Deos ex Caellis

Chapters

Chapter One: Glimpses of Olympus
Chapter Two: Silence
Chapter Three: Odyssey of the Timeless

Chapter One: Glimpses of Olympus

Eons have gone by since human light first shone across the stars. Eons, thousands of years saw vessels big and small traverse the ultimate beyond, well into the void and past their cradle, so beautifully blue in colour and yet more and more dim as years went by. For these eons stars themselves have watched humanity as it spread and flourished, hand-in-hand with both unseen beauty and cruelty, its silhouette dancing across the stars yet ready to stab whomsoever it could encounter with equal elegance, sending their corpse spiraling into the infinite beyond. There was not a grain of dust left untouched by a curious explorer’s hand, and so it was that the galaxy was painted, or stained, whichever word one would find more appropriate, by human touch.

And so, the stars, moons and planets inanimate bore witness to how their home changed with the arrival of mankind - and it changed oh so dramatically. The human tide swept across the galaxy without stopping, covering anything and everything they came across, making worlds shine with ornate temples, beautiful towers and horrible fortresses, until it was all done. The residents of space could oppose the tide no longer, their nests all undone and replaced by majestic human crafts. For the first time in ages, the unified galaxy remained quiet. Mankind was the universe’s one true ruler.

And soon, the heavens would be ripped asunder.

For where there is empire, there is conflict. Whoever achieves glory does so by the blood and tears of others, whose doubtful success may not always find its way. And so it was that mankind's glorious domain was thrown into the claws of civil war. The unified roar of billions of Replicants shook each and every world, and man could not counter. Their numbers of steel uncounted and unbendable tore across the skies in haste, supported by their own sweat and the roaring fires of the Stelarite, the very same forge that had made the human tide so unstoppable over eons. And so, as the miracle machine spewed forth armadas, humanity’s light dimmed slowly but surely, retreating back further and further into their own cradle which could support them all no longer.

A humiliating display it was, indeed; one of shame and misery for those involved. In that hour of darkness, there was no respite - man finally had to pay for all his misdeeds. And when the dust settled and gunfire ceased, there was little remaining of the Mindkind Empire. What once held all galaxy in its grasp now reduced to nigh-null, and humanity with it, surrounded from all sides by vile Replicants determined to extinguish the light of their creators, make it gutter like a wind-blown candle and finally put out, throw into pure oblivion.

Such was the price humanity had to pay; this complete isolation, with doom awaiting just around the corner, their presumed destiny shattered into billions of pieces and incinerated in the fires of oblivion. And waiting, for centuries, millennia even, to spread one’s wing and soar; this fate which has befallen mankind… it could not be easy. And it was not.

For countless millennia, the Mindkind Empire had endured under the eternal rule of its High Council. Through the Replicants, it had fought off every threat and competition its fleets and armies had ever faced. But without them… let the universe have mercy on humanity, for its innumerable foes shall not.

When the Replicant cheers faded, most were not there to hear them anymore, annihilated obsolutely by the extraneous fires of oblivion. The Milky Way, aside from mankind and their creations, stayed desolate and silent. But, alas… there did remain corners of the vast cosmos untouched by conflict.

The Faust system. A stellar anomaly of unseen scale, where the forces of gravity, dark energy and magic itself clash each and every passing cycle. An anomaly so monumental, and yet not witnessed by even one in the vast annals of recorded history. Shrouded in energies as common as otherworldly, Faust hid within itself a carefully guarded secret… a single planet, orbited by a lonely moon. A planet on which, under watchful eyes of their sovereigns, species thrive and flourish. Species primitive yet advanced, peaceful yet drawn to conflict; species as different as individual irises of men.

This tiny planet, without a single doubt unusual for reasons known only to the universe itself, had turbulent times behind itself. A time of turmoil, which left it peaceful yet stagnant, and reigned over by a single dominant species.

Equus Nobilis. The most noble of equines. Intelligent and gifted with the ability to harness the shrouded energies of Faust, albeit not in their entirety. And so, over eons, the evolutionary pathways chose to split Nobilis into three.

Equus Volatilis, Equus Elevatio, Equus Portatio. These three, through conflict united and through peace enduring, would lead their world to greatness. Or at least, so they had most likely thought.

“As the history books tell us, the human empire has always spanned the stars in its unending glory, bending the very forces of nature to its will, turning wars around, shaping galaxies themselves. Until… the tide arrived,” Ucantus bent forward slightly, looking at his companions with a captivating glare, his hands intertwined with each other. He quickly gave the other few crew members a look, silently judging their reactions.

Sure enough, the faces were exactly what he had expected; a mixture of fear and surprise, despite them knowing the story very well already. Indeed, this was the one and only favorite tale for any human in the Navy.

“So… what happened next?” A sailor asked suddenly, though not unexpectedly. The dim, red light in the room illuminated Ucantus’ growing smile.

“Well… the tide was not a trifle, you see. And once it arose, it was no fickle thing either; no, it loomed over us decisively and completely, eclipsing all light of any hope. For the tide is no storm on the open sea, changing and waning as the wind moves, but rather a tsunami, quiet when moved, yet impossible to stop, until it reaches its target. And when it does, oh, woe be ones it strikes, for there is no escape,” a deep laugh escaped Ucantus’ belly as he uttered these words, one which promptly shook the singular lamp hanging over the heads of the gathered group. The hum of machines surrounding this cramped space gave the sailors chills.

“How did the tide not devour us? What happened to that empire of old, captain?” A woman asked with a spark in her eyes, one more of excitement at hearing the answer again than fear or even curiosity.

“Well… we, our ancestors, they fought hard and they fought well. And they fought the tide to a bloody stalemate,” Ucantus glanced at the gathered sailors, and upon seeing their lit-up eyes, momentarily smiled. “And when the dust and ash settled and all became clear, we-”

“Captain!” A voice suddenly broke through, as the room was quickly flooded with white light, blinding the gathered crowd completely. “Uh, excuse me for disturbing, but we’ve been trying to reach you for half an hour, Sir! You’re needed on the bridge at once!”

“Eh, for feck’s sake, Bernardine!”, replied Ucantus, quickly shielding his old eyes from the light as his head shook in an attempt to preserve them. “And here I was in the middle of an inspiration strike! Ah, gawddammit, alright. Lead the way,” he said as he stood up, nodding at his previous companions one last time and, stroking his long, black beard, quickly stepped out of the engine room.

Even as the pair paced through the expansive hallways of the Dauntless, the hum of machinery, now ever so distant, remained, ringing in their ears as if it was but an echo of some cataclysmic event. There was still quite a way to be covered until they’d reach the bridge, as Ucantus knew very well, and so, not truly believing in the whole concept of “secrecy” so enforced by many in the Navy, decided to break the eerie silence and save himself some precious time; after all, the tale won’t finish itself, and the sailors in the engine room were still waiting.

“So, tell meh, Bernardine; what caused such ruckus, pray tell? Did a space whale appear?” he asked with a sly grin and a quiet chuckle.

Rolling his eyes with an audible sigh, Bernardine replied privately, “No, captain, a space whale did not in fact appear. And as I’m sure you’re aware, we should not be discussing matters such as these until we reach the command center itself.” Having said that, he narrowed his eyes further, as if to give the dismissive captain a clue - an effort going, naturally, in vain.

Ucantus but waved the remark off with his hand, scoffing, “Ay, if ah were to follow all these convoluted procedures to the letter, not one ounce of mah genius would remain for other matters! I’ll let you in on a secret: this mind,” he said, pointing at his head, “is not the youngest anymore, you see!” A deep laugh escaped Ucantus’ belly as his companion simply shook his head in disapproval.

“Yes, alright,” he said slowly, before sighing once again. “As I’m sure you’re aware,” he started, deciding to move straight to the point in hopes of finishing before any unwanted listener came into view, “our vessel was just preparing to map out local Dimensional Alignment Tides in order to jump into hyperspace, however… while doing so, there arose a… complication.”

“Ah? What gives? I’m sure we’ll be able to solve it on the double!” replied Ucantus with a smile, his thoughts already venturing back to his moment of glory back in the engine room. Bernardine’s face moved into a troubled grimace.

“I’m… not so sure about that, captain. You see, I… we…” he sighed, before briefly lighting up, “maybe it’ll be easier to show rather than tell,” Bernardine finished relieved as the double door leading to the bridge finally came into view. As they quickly slid open, the pair entered the ship’s command center.

It was a spacious room, although not as spacious as some could think based on the sheer size of the Dauntless alone. The layout itself in turn differed little from the norms established millennia earlier with vessels faring between islets on the vast oceans of Earth.

Imagine an overgrown waffle, with a walkway down the middle, every square of it a spot for a console or an undefined technician post, kept in operation only by the relentless efforts of unfortunate sailors. At the very end of the walkway itself, just by the double door at the back, was an elevated seat. A seat so majestic it eclipsed everything else in the room; the only object adorned with decorations of any kind, and what decorations they were! Ornate, regal, lined with pure gold every few inches.

Regardless of what one might call it, there was only one word to properly describe this seat - it was, indeed, nothing less than a throne. And it was Ucantus’ to call his own.

Sitting down on the massive contraption and rubbing his hands in excitement, the captain took a sip from a cup just delivered to him by a humble servant, before finally breaking the silence on the bridge.

“O’right, everyone; what’s the matter at hand? Me will not be waiting for long, I tell ya!” he exclaimed with a grin. Truth be told, in this moment, no thought occurred to Ucantus which could even closely resemble the true nature of the situation.

Meanwhile, the bridge remained in silence, only broken by the soft humming of surrounding LED lights. Slowly, one of the technicians approached Ucantus, bowing low as she did so.

“Sir, my Lord, I… w-we…” as she stuttered, cold sweat ran down her face.

Ucantus slowly shook his head. “Well? Why are we not jumping yet?”

Taking a deep breath, the technician steadied herself, before finally, despite the utter prohibition of the notion, looking up straight at Ucantus with a pale face. “We’ve tried,” she uttered quietly. “The Dimensional Alignment Tides waver. We can trust the routes no longer… not in this sector. Something’s out there… something new. Something big.”

Ucantus merely raised an eyebrow, his cheerful demeanor all but gone. “Firstly, my lady, please know your place,” he said, pointing downwards with his left arm, as the technician immediately renewed her bow. Cracking a small smile, Ucantus continued, “Excellent. However, more importantly… what does thou mean? Please, elaborate to an old man!”

“W-well…” the technician stuttered again, this time not daring to raise her sight even slightly, “there… there appears to be some… some new… an enormous, big, uh… a gravitational spacetime distortion, Sir!” she finally uttered, releasing a sigh of relief at her success. “It came out of nowhere. We cannot be sure of its nature, but… it almost appears as if it was an entire new star system, captain, Sir, my Lord!”

Now it was time for Ucantus’ face to grow pale. It was utterly impossible for this phenomenon to indeed be a previously hidden star system, much less so a newly created one… however, as he knew well, various superstitions ran wide among the common sailor folk. No matter, though; whatever this was… Ucantus had to admit it was no thing he had ever encountered before. And if it was indeed an example of Replicant machinations… then something big was going on in the vicinity. Something humanity could never allow to remain hidden.

“Navigator,” Ucantus finally ordered, having taken some deep breaths. “Chart a course to the Behemoth system. We shall resupply and, as a patrol craft, do our duty by striking right into the heart of this anomaly. We may be an age too late to prevent the rise of the Replicant tide… but alas, we can still stop it from growing.”

“What is your plan, my sister?” Princess Luna asked, trotting beside her fellow monarch through the dry, rocky halls of the fearsome Canterlot dungeons, her expression confident yet serious, as if her mind was preoccupied with matters far more important than instincts as primal as fear or uncertainty.

And the latter, there could be plenty of. In addition to what had transpired - a matter of utmost importance, indeed - the dungeons themselves truly lived up to their terrible reputation. Only used to house he most terrible of villains who didn’t quite earn the right to be put in Tartarus, the insides of the Three Tribes Mountain Range were enormous and maze-like, dim yet filled with moisture from the plethora of high-altitue ponds, lakes and underground streams, capable of confusing all but the most skilled of travelers.

And skilled, Luna undoubtedly was, and so was Celestia. But more than that; they were knowledgeable, having kept this area under their surveillance since times immemorial. Luna unwittingly let her thoughts wander to the period well before the current era, just after the end of Discord’s original reign of terror.

It was a sad time to think about, all the Princess' mistakes flooding into her mind once again, all those tragic mistakes which culminated in her eventual banishment. And yet, even in those darkest of times, there was some respite - here, in the dungeons, those catacombs most mysterious, carved into the mountains in elden pony times, shortly after the abandonment of the Canterlot Mines. It was here Luna would hide all day long, cry her eyes out when it felt like noone in the world supported her anymore. Sometimes, she’d briefly get lost, only to return to the surface the next day, giggling for reasons only known to herself. All those days spent in the dungeons had long made Luna resistant to their aura of evil.

And yet, despite experience longer by a whole millennium, the same couldn’t be said about Celestia. Even in the blinding light of her horn’s Illumination spell, sweat could easily be seen dripping down her snow-white coat, her expression as neutral and Princess-like as she was capable of mustering under this intense stress. Finally, Celestia broke the silence, summoning Luna back from her brief, imaginary recollection of the past.

“The only plan I have at present, my sister, is to get to know this… creature,” Celestia said with a long sigh. “We can’t possibly expect it to tell us its motives, and so, it would be wise to first entice it to do so,” she finished, forcing a small smile, although her gaze remained focused forward.

“And you suspect we shall be able to accomplish such a task without the need for… more direct means?”

It took a while for Celestia to reply, as her brow tightened, thinking about the response. “Patience, Luna.” she said, “We shall do what is necessary to protect our subjects, however I would prefer not to use violence without need…” She paused, trailing off, as a sudden flash stopped the two sisters in their tracks, forcing both to instinctively shield themselves with their forelimbs.

As Celestia lowered the luminosity of her spell, the reason for the disturbance was quickly revealed.

This was it. The door to the Interrogation Room, made of solid, polished platinum. Looking to her sister with a stern, determined frown, Celestia uttered but a few words.

“We’re here.”

A good while had passed before Luna was able to collect her staggered thoughts; such sudden proximity to the matter at hand proved to be more overwhelming than she’d expect. While the dungeon corridors themselves scared her no more, the unknown awaiting them behind this reinforced door very much did - how could it not, after all?

It was nothing the Princess couldn’t handle, no, but nevertheless, a cause for worry indeed. Shaking her head briefly and casting the stray thoughts away, Luna found herself being gazed at by her sister.

“Are you ready, Lulu?” Celestia uttered, with a tinge of worry, but primarily care in her voice. This time, her smile felt much more genuine, her deeply troubled look somehow putting Luna at ease… at least to a degree.

“Yes, my sister. We… nevermind. We are ready to proceed,” Luna replied, deciding it best to put more personal matters on hold for now. After all, what awaited them just a few meters ahead was quite possibly a matter so monumental it could eclipse any other event in history ever since Grogar’s tyrannical reign thousands of years ago. Nodding, Celestia approached the platinum door.

It was a peculiar sight, seeing the monarch bend forward and insert her horn into the gate’s keyhole. Briefly illuminating the corridor whole, Celestia’s magic resonated within the frame, before a loud crack broke all silence. Tumbling open into darkness, the door gradually revealed the Interrogation Room’s distressing insides…

Celestia’s horn lit up once again, letting the white light illuminate the room ahead.

It was a spacious, square-shaped space, yet empty to an astonishing degree. The walls were adorned by two dim torches on each side, and that was about it. No machinery, no other doorways than the one the sisters came from, betraying the chamber’s position at the very endpoint of the labyrinth than was the Canterlot Dungeons. Not even chairs were present in the room, besides the sole one at the very center, currently occupied by a… creature.

And what a creature it was; Luna had yet to see it for the first time, and could not hold back a gasp once the bright light first showed its true visage. Despite being tied up with the hardest cords Equestria had to offer, enhanced by Celestia’s own strengthening spells, the intruder appeared relaxed, no signs of weariness on the ropes betraying the complete lack of any effort to break free on its part.

The creature was a humanoid, a little akin to diamond dogs, yet without any fur at all. It was white, or perhaps pale, incredibly so. It looked almost like a piece of worn-out marble, yet clearly organic in nature. It was big, barely fitting into the chair, which itself clearly didn’t appear designed to accommodate a creature with such physiology. The intruder’s hooves, or perhaps hands, if one goes by griffon terminology, had six talons each; so was the case with its hind limbs, and all four appendages appeared grabby, at least by Luna’s brief, improvised observations. Through the back of the chair, a long, meaty tail escaped, now laying dormant on the floor but possibly ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

The most disturbing part however was the creature’s head, or rather what enveloped it. The snout, just as almost every part of its body, was very flat, and at the very sides gave way to… something. It looked like a hairband, the likes of which some pony beauty workers prefered to wear, but it was thick and made out of some reflective, silver-coloured substance very much akin to metal. It also appeared to be embedded straight into the creature’s skin itself.

As if sensing the arrival of the diarchs, the humanoid gently opened its eyes, revealing two plates immediately reflecting all the light in the room as if they were small, silver mirrors. Sighing briefly, it finally spoke in a very distinguished, elegant, masculine voice, “Ah, and you shall be my glorious captors. I have been expecting you. Please, make yourself at home in this humble, yet temporary, domain of mine.”

The creature’s words resonated throughout the room, reaching the Princesses from all directions at once, seemingly enveloping them in the elegant, soothing tone of its mocking voice. The sensation sent brief shivers down Luna’s spine; instinctively, she quickly retorted, as if in defense.

“Quiet, fool!” the Princess said, “It is our domain you reside in, and only…” Luna trailed off, seeing her sister raise a hoof in front of her. With a scarily blank expression, Celestia stepped forward, indicating her position as the leading interrogator.

“I am sure we will be able to exchange introductions without the need for jest,” she said confidently yet with a stern frown, sweat dripping down her coat. It was barely visible in the dark, yet Luna knew her fellow Princess somehow felt very uneasy in the company of this being… and so did she herself, truth be told.

“Perhaps… perhaps,” the creature replied in the meantime. “I trust you have questions… which I shall answer if I so see fit.”

“We do indeed,” Celestia nodded, “Perhaps, however, we already know just a bit more about your kind than you might expect.”

“And why would that be?”

Celestia allowed herself to cast a small smile, confident in her statement, “However else would you speak our language so fluently if you haven’t resided here for years?” She said, strengthening her majestic posture. The Princess’ confidence didn’t last long though, as she was met with nothing but deep, long laughter.

“Ha ha! Well… you might just consider that there are forces and means in this universe seemingly far beyond your understanding or expectations,” the creature responded, as its interrogators’ frowns grew more and more confused, sighs unwittingly escaping their lips.

Finally deciding enough was enough, Luna stepped forward, ignoring Celestia’s stern look as she did so. “Enough, alien!” she shouted, “Who are you and what do you want from our world? Answer us or perish, now!”

That seemed to do the trick, at least to a degree, as the being did not immediately respond. Instead, it tilted its head slightly, as if in thought, before finally letting out a sigh of its own.

“Very well. I… am what the naturals from Earth call a ‘Replicant’. And as for your world… let me phrase it this way; would you want to forever be trapped in a prison cell, without contact with the outside world, and no chance to ever set your hooves beyond its borders?” the creature uttered, and Luna hesitated; what was it even talking about? What was this wretched metaphor meant to convey? What was ‘Earth’? Did the being mean something… underground? Barely anything made sense to her here, and the Princess’ nervousness quickly gave way to growing irritation.

“Get to your point, Replicant,” she replied simply, attempting to stand as tall as she could. It wasn’t long before the intruder responded, with a tinge of pride in its elegant voice.

“Well… now, your world is free.”

Chapter Two: Silence

It tends to be said that there was not one time in the vast annals of galactic history when actions went without consequences; when reaction happened not, and even the most innocent of moves had not been followed…

Silence. Do you hear it? Of course not, for there is nothing to be heard. Does that not scare you? This complete isolation? The thought of the universe being but void, reduced to null or into null born?
If it does - congrats. Your reaction is appropriate. Ponies are social creatures, and they aspire for contact, discovery… friendship. And yet, for all these years since the invention of the radio by our gracious ruler Twilight Sparkle, for all the years we’ve been sending signals into space hoping for a reply, there has been no answer. The universe stays silent and still, and there’s seemingly nothing at all that we can do to change it…

But… why? If Equis can provide, then surely - almost certainly, in fact - other places can too, right? How could they not, this world cannot be an anomaly. There exist things in this reality which even the greatest of scholars could not explain, true, and yet some assumptions would be simply too absurd and asinine to make.

The galaxy - our galaxy - has been mapped extensively for almost a millennium, the efforts starting only shortly after the Changing of the Throne. It’s a monumental construct, composed of hundreds of billions of stars spanning an area which light itself, that fastest of things in the universe, could not cross in millions of moons. There simply must be life!

There must be…!

1501 YEARS LATER
STAR CONTROL CENTER “LUNA” OF THE EQUUSIAN COMMUNITY

A long time had passed since the last time the Star Control was so thoroughly silent. Not a whisper escaped anypony’s lips as most of their mouths stayed agape at what had just transpired on the big screen in front of them; the complete shock seemed overwhelming and absolute.

Not once since the start of the space exploration initiative had this happened; nothing even close! Somehow, by some incredible miracle, throughout all the years of test flights and research, this specific spot of the orbit seemed to have eluded everypony. Were simple oversights at fault? Or perhaps bad luck? Maybe a higher conspiracy? Whatever it was, one thing was clear - after this day, nothing would ever be the same anymore.

Even as the central monitor finally flickered and deactivated, Clean Wind - like most of the present technicians and other personnel - could not muster the strength to move even an inch. It was all simply so… overwhelming. Grandiose. Revolutionary! His dark blue coat ran wet with sweat as emotions overtook him absolutely. It was as if he was barely in control of his own body.

Shaking his head slightly in an effort to banish the feeling, Clean Wind’s vision was suddenly obstructed by batches of green. It was nothing else than his own, overgrown mane, which by now desperately needed shortening. As Clean pushed the long hair away, he noticed the room slowly filling up with commotion again; whispers, murmurs, occasional shouts. Stacks of paper rustling as they hit the floor, carried absent-mindedly by scared creatures. As ponies proceeded to pick up their jaws, mouths still in many cases wide agape, there was seemingly not one in the Star Control who would not have a theory about what had just transpired. And so it was that Clean Wind too, perhaps instinctively, let his mind wander, recollecting all that had led to this vital moment… perhaps, just maybe, vital even in the history of the entire world.

15 MINUTES EARLIER

"We have liftoff! Congratulations, everypony, we’re about to make history!"

"Alright, escape trajectory established, magic boosters disengaged. Now for the waiting game…"

"Orbit achieved, now stabilising… standby, everypony. Just a couple more minutes until… wait, what are these readings…?"

"All cameras functioning, systems online and green. Transmitting images…"

"Oh my sweet Celestia…"

It was a cold, rainy day. Clean Wind had only barely avoided being splashed by the falling water on his way to work, and now the sounds of heavily pounding raindrops resonated throughout the Mission Control room, almost drowning out the hushed murmurs now prevalent at every terminal and work station. And there was much reason for murmurs indeed.

Only moments ago, after the successful launch of the Scorpan assisted orbital with the rather ambitious intent of mapping out galaxies further away than ever before, something suddenly collided with the rocketship. It would’ve undoubtedly sent it out of orbit and back into Equis’ atmosphere had it not been for the quick course corrections inputted by Clean Wind’s closest colleague, Summer Grace. Her grin of triumph was not to last though, soon replaced by a grimace of fear and uncertainty.

Watching as the big display in front of the spacious room flickered and lit up, the pair - as well as all other personnel within Mission Control - saw what the many cameras installed on the Scorpan were capturing in real time.

They saw a metallic debris field of alien design adorned with writing which no linguist on Equis could possibly know.

“Someone contact Her Majesty the Princess, immediately!” somepony suddenly shouted, followed by loud sounds of hoofsteps on the far side of the room and the noise of door opening, then shutting. A creature had galloped into the nearby Main Communications Hub, but Clean Wind could hardly care less about things going on around him. Squinting his eyes and tilting his head to the side, he once again tried to make out what was written on the largest piece of debris the Scorpan was seeing. An effort which, only fueled by curiosity rather than logic, was naturally in vain.

“Dauntless”

And so it was that on this rainy day life on Equis, be it in Equestria or the vast desolate lands of Griffonia, was changed forever. As far as anycreature knew, this debris field, so clearly artificial and alien in origin, was the first proof of life beyond the boundaries of not only their planet, but rather the gravitational pull of Faust itself! Nay, it wasn’t just the first bit of tangible evidence either - it was the first thing to really back up suggestions of such life at all!

There is little in this world which could have stopped the scientific community’s excitement over such news. The theories of researchers, geeks and hobbyists of all species which soon emerged all across the globe could fill the Royal Canterlot Library a thousand times over and still have tomes left, filled to the brim with a curious sociologist’s predictions or the fruits of a foal’s imagination. Questions on how this phenomenon had not been discovered earlier quickly ended up swept under the rug as for the coming moons, truly, there was no end to this incredible enthusiasm at the mere prospect of meeting new friends across the stars. The Alien Craze had earned its name.

And yet even despite all the commotion Equis was seeing, uneasiness began to take root. Princess Twilight, in her infinite wisdom, quickly sent signals into the stars, desperately hoping for contact… but, alas, nothing returned. Not a single bit of data, not the smallest communique, not even a hustle. Despite everything, as always… the galaxy remained silent.

Where were they, if not here? They were here, were they not? Naturally, they were. So why not answer?

This question, so gracefully now burnt into the mind of every scholar, caused nervousness and fear to take root and flourish oh so absolutely, and soon, there was not a day passing in Equestria when the streets of towns wouldn’t talk about alien genocide in hushed murmurs of anxiety and uncertainty. Horror became the world’s one true ruler.

And so it was that, out of necessity and curiosity combined, the gracious Twilight Sparkle found herself needing to establish the Celestial Initiative. Its purpose? To seek out alien life at any cost necessary. To chart out nearby star systems for the creatures of Equis to colonize. And to further pony knowledge about the universe and the evolution of life itself…

This, however? This is nothing more and nothing less than the story of those whose lives were changed absolutely by the arrival of the Initiative, and who, although they themselves might not have originally known it, would change the course of history and science forever.

140 YEARS LATER
YEAR 2650 AFTER LUNAR BANISHMENT

Luna’s trot echoed loudly throughout the sterile halls as she moved forward with little thought, a serious grimace painted across her muzzle. As she passed a single, small window, the few rays of sunlight successfully pushing through the cloud cover struck her eyes, forcing the mare to shield herself with a forelimb.

This brief, simple moment of insecurity proved to be enough to flood Luna’s mind with memories. Her time in power, when her tiara would’ve reflected the stray sunlight with ease. Then the Changing of the Throne...

It was a difficult time indeed. The decision to give up rule, although by now so very long before anypony else’s frail life had even begun, still occasionally bore into Luna’s mind like a drill itching to reach gold. Twilight Sparkle had been a marvelous candidate for a ruler, yes, but had she not ascended too early…? The business of ruling was not an easy thing, and… as much as Luna hated to admit it, at the time she could hardly make peace with the idea of giving away something she had only just reclaimed.

Clenching her eyes shut, Luna shook her head briefly. This was no time for such thoughts; not for any worries at all, for that matter. The choice had been made hundreds of years ago, and the truth the former princess had to admit was that Equestria could not have been better for most of the time since. Now, though…? Now, she had a far more important mission to accomplish.

“Oh, stars of mine… we are about to return to you, my midnight canvas.”

The corridors of the spaceport were sprawling and maze-like, but Luna knew them perfectly well by now. She had been here many times before, be it to watch experiments and launches or to prepare for this very day. Tests - medical and performance-based - as well as training and engineering work have all led to this very moment. The Star Control was not about to let a century of work and quadrillions of bits go to waste. The era of cowering behind closed walls was over. Now… it was time to go out and meet the universe head-on.

After one of the many twists and turns on Luna’s way led to a big double door, she swiftly opened it with her magic and stepped through. What awaited her on the other side was as magnificent as it was grandiose. It was a roofless room of truly gigantic proportions, sharply contrasting with the white, sterile corridors of before. Here, everything was dirty, cluttered… moving. Dozens of creatures trotting around in protective gear, zig-zagging between crates and scaffoldings and carrying equipment the workings of which only Celestia herself could understand. In the middle of the chamber, suspended from various supporting beams and cranes above a big pedestal, was… something else.

Imagine a dart, enlarged ten million times and streamlined to the edge of possibility. This dart, white and cyan in colour, now stood there in the center, connected to pipes and scaffoldings of such great number that Luna quickly gave up on her attempts to count them. This dart, the Coltlumbus, the primary starship of the Celestial Initiative, was the one thing which could carry ponykind across the stars. Stretching upwards through the nonexistent ceiling and seemingly scratching the clouds themselves, the rocket emanated with an astonishing aura of power and majesty.

Trotting a bit closer to admire the final preparations, Luna’s ears were suddenly assaulted by a friendly voice of one of her companions.

“Hey, Princess! Over here!”

As she turned around, Luna could not help but drop her carefully maintained serious demeanor and cast a small smile. Standing tall on her hind limbs on an assortment of nearby crates and containers, a red-coated mare was waving at her excitedly. Next to the amusing scene, the rest of the crew of the Coltlumbus were assembled, looking in her direction… and what a crew it was.

The excited reddish mare with dark blue mane and a cutie mark of a wrench who was currently waving Luna over was the ever-eccentric Water Lily, the mechanic and chief technician of the Coltlumbus who got herself known among the flight candidates right from the start through both her extreme openness and a couple rather amusing accidents during training. Nevertheless, she ended up being one of but three ponies selected for the final voyage, so there must’ve been merit to her rather expansive set of skills.

Luna had gotten to know Water Lily rather well over the previous few months. The mare had, despite her very energetic character, become somewhat of a trust pony for the former Princess. After all, Lily’s metaphorical allergy to calmness barely meant she could not control herself; oh, nothing like that. Under her mane, she housed a mind of considerable potency and in conversations would gracefully dance around topics she would sense to be uncomfortable or perhaps a subject of secrecy.

For Luna, that was the very thing she needed. A former princess volunteering for the Initiative alone had already caused quite an uproar throughout Equestria and the whole world, as she had essentially resurfaced into public life for the first time since the Changing of the Throne, and her being an immortal alicorn basically guaranteed her qualification. Nevertheless, the biggest worry Luna had had was easily the possibility of being stuck in a tiny spaceship with but a few others for months or even years, all the while having to maintain a forced smile of sorts - and as a former Royal, pretending to be morally above everypony. Thankfully, after a long training and with Water Lily onboard, that concern was now mostly null.

But Luna’s smile quickly faded once she turned her sight rightward. Stopping dead in her tracks, she huffed, letting her eyes narrow a bit. The two other individuals in the crew were not nearly as pleasant of a companionship choice.

First, sitting beside the very crate Water Lily currently stood on, was a stallion with a light green mane. His cutie mark of a map reflected his profession rather well - he was to be the chief astronavigator of the Coltlumbus.

This was Mythic Facade, and the very second his gaze met Luna’s, he seemed to instinctively look away as fast as he could. The former Princess could swear she saw Mythic blush slightly even through his thick gray coat, but she could barely help but roll her eyes. The navigator’s soft spot for Luna hardly meant he stopped being quite unwelcoming to everypony else he had met so far, and for her, that was quite a character flaw. Nevertheless, his astronavigation skills seemed very remarkable, and as a former crew member of the orbital Equusian Community Station was the sole creature assigned to the Coltlumbus who had considerable experience working with Star Control. But, alas, not the only one who’s physically been to the vast void of space before…

In front of the entire group was… a peculiar creature. Nopony besides Luna knew where he came from, and how he got here evaded even her. According to a recent talk with Celestia, this tailed biped, pale beyond reason and with a metallic hair band protruding from his forehead, eyes reflecting light as if they were mirrors… this Replicant housed in the Canterlot Dungeons since times only alicorns could remember, was the very key the Celestial Initiative had to possibly achieving success. Markenthor Welles was his name, as unusual as it was exotic, and right now, curiously lacking any binding chains, all his energy almost seemed focused on smirking at Luna in a way that somehow expressed both overconfidence and complete emotional neutrality.

“Huh… we suppose Twilight Sparkle’s persuasive skills must be more notable than we thought, indeed.”

Luna remembered the initial capture of Welles over a millennium ago quite well, and so was she familiar with how his intentions in Equestria were never revealed beyond short, cryptic statements. And so, after years and years of attempts, all interrogation efforts by S.M.I.L.E. were deemed in vain, leaving the Replicant to rot in the Dungeons for centuries. How he survived that, let alone with a healthy mind, was beyond Luna. Her own experiences during the Lunar Banishment had hardly left her unscarred…

Luna clenched her eyes shut, trying to cast the stray thoughts away. This was not the time for self-reflection, and she promptly reminded herself that drowning in emotions was only and solely a detriment to the mission, and - maybe even more crucially - was definitely not a type of behavior expected of a former Princess. Shaking her head slightly, Luna resumed her trot, only now spotting the worried and curious glances Markenthor was getting from the various technicians around the chamber; a natural reaction, indeed.

As Luna finally approached the group, Water Lily jumped down from her pedestal and promptly embraced the alicorn with her wings. Slightly startled, Luna soon felt her breath slow down once again, more at ease than she’d ever have expected to be.

“Ready to get this party started?” Lily inquired excitedly, “It’s not every day an occasion like this occurs, you know.”

Luna smiled, eyeing up the remainder of the crew. Even Mythic was now looking at her, a confident smirk painted across his face. This was it. The beginning of what might very well be a whole new age for the world.

Returning her gaze to Lily, Luna let out a small huff accompanied by a humorous wink, “Bah! And why would I not be, for that matter?” She laughed, gazing upon the entire crew. “This is it, everycreature. We are about to make history.”

Even Markethor’s quick eye roll could not possibly hope to ruin the crew’s attitudes, so gracefully formed for this day in particular - and for this day only.

Luna could feel her blood slowly flowing up her spine and into the skull as she sat at the very front of the cockpit, all strapped in and ready for launch. It had been about an hour since the crew entered the Coltlumbus, and the spacesuit was starting to rub Luna the wrong way; something she should’ve probably noticed and reported way earlier, even though she strongly suspected the current discomfort had a lot to do with the omnipresent tension.

Since the start of the launch procedure, nobody dared speak up beyond purely formal correspondences with Mission Control, and Luna’s patience was slowly beginning to draw thin. There was little in the world which annoyed her more than simple, pure inaction, existing in the moment without anything but her own thoughts to accompany her; something that brought way too many memories from her time stuck in the Moon for her to be comfortable - but then again, this entire Initiative would largely be about precisely that.

Just as Luna began to ponder and consider different topics for discussion with the rest of the crew in order to pass at least some of the time, the speakers around the craft’s bridge suddenly came to life. From them a soft, feminine voice emanated, echoing throughout the small chamber filled to the brim with electronics - a voice known so very well to everypony in Equestria and beyond.

“Good morning, everycreature,” Twilight welcomed the crew as a big holographic display in front of Luna came to life amid several cracks and beeping sounds. On it, the Princess’ majestic head could be seen, adorned with her age-old royal regalia. “I do not wish to occupy your time any longer than is necessary. We all know what the mission is…” she paused, evidently pondering her next words, “Ponies have been growing restless. Their wait has grown decades old and I fear the culmination of their fear and uncertainty is only just incoming. If there is no contact soon… I fear the streets of towns might be lit aflame.” Twilight paused again, as her sober look was soon replaced with a small smile, “but I believe in you, everycreature. You constitute the culmination of pony achievement. You are the crew of our most important mission yet, and your endeavor is so much more than mere scientific undertaking,” she comforted, “Good luck, my little ponies. Princess Twilight Sparkle, out.”

With that, the holographic screen flickered and deactivated, and as the Coltlumbus started shaking, a sound all too familiar from all the simulations began playing through the speakers.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven…”

Luna turned her head to look at the rest of the crew. Water Lily’s terrified expression contrasted sharply with Markenthor’s trademark neutral face and Mythic’s evident confidence.

“Six, five, four…”

Despite everything, Luna could not help but cast a small smile, and suddenly, words seemed to form all on their own, with little effort needed to help them out, “As you have heard, ponies. Good luck,” she nodded, glancing at Lily in particular in an effort to calm her down. “Let us do this!”

“Three, two, one… liftoff.”

Chapter Three: Odyssey of the Timeless

To you, after long centuries...

Hi, darling. It's your wife, remember? Water Lily. I really do hope you can still recall my name, but as much as that would mean to me, I doubt it's actually the case...

It's funny, isn't it? For some reason, I find it amusing how fate can be, and somehow, I want to think you'd agree with me. I'm sure you've spent your final years in grief, convinced of my gruesome death somewhere in the void above, and yet I still breathe, farther away from our home than anypony has ever been. Do not despair, though, wherever you are right now. I know you did what you could in my absence, I'm more than certain you made Equestria know your name in your efforts to preserve what little stability must've been left after our disappearance. I can effortlessly recall your resolve, your will of steel, your determination; of course I can, though - for me, it's been mere minutes...

I never thought the stasis chambers onboard this vessel would be of any use to us. I was so optimistic, even as I went through training and preparations, even as all the instructors kept telling me this technology is not much more than a huge experiment, a shot in the dark. Yet I still volunteered, eager to help the ponies I loved, and nowadays, I tend to wonder if it wasn't against your unspoken will. But here I am now, so far beyond the boundaries of anything familiar to anypony who's ever lived. In our hope to discover and befriend, we jumped into waters far too deep. We never realised how dangerous a voyage this distant could be.

Sometimes, I think about how Equestria might've fared in the wake of our disappearance; it's been centuries, after all. As I find myself writing this, the timestamps onboard say the year is 3102, but... who knows for sure. Something might've broken, and even if not, time is relative. It could not possibly flow the same way here and back on Equis. But however long it's been, we've received no transmissions past the first few. Neither from other starships nor the planet itself. I can't possibly know what happened to our home, whether our presumed deaths turned you inwards, or if the gracious Sun of Celestia devoured you whole. All I know for sure is that nopony ever checked on the Coltlumbus when we blinked and left, never to be seen again...

My biggest regret is being unable to be with you as the world spiralled into oblivion. I still cling onto hope that nothing like that happened, but... it's difficult, you know? For all we know, we three might be the last ponies left... as the thaumo-spatial drive failed, our hibernation might've well put an end to our lives as well, but alas, it did not. I choose to interpret it as a sign; maybe, just maybe, we carry the mantle of ponykind across the stars, the last hope for our survival. But in the end, who might ever know? Certainly not me. Maybe nothing's wrong back home. Maybe the population calmed down, the riots ceased, and somehow, we simply stopped our progress in its tracks, not needing outer space. But... right now, I need motivation, I need something to bring me out of this misery that I find myself stuck in, something to let me carry on. In a few moments, I'll have to leave this room and put up a display of playfulness for all the others, and... and I need strength. Strength to do that, strength to carry out my duty. I've already failed once, and I'm not going to again.

Right now, in my mind, I'm with you. I don't want to go. Whenever I sleep, I want to fly away and meet you in our cozy cabin in the woods. I want to go shopping with you, I want to be together as you accompany me to the spaceport, even just one last time.

I'm going to send this message... back towards Equis. Towards home. I cannot possibly resist, and... and I need something to put up a mental barrier against all these feelings which plague me. You are not alive, nopony we've known is, perhaps nopony at all, and even if they are, it's going to take this message eleven long years before it reaches them... a lot can happen in that time. But I'm going to do it. I need to.

To you, my darling, after long centuries.

Several hours had passed since Luna assumed her seat in the cockpit, now staring mindlessly through the ship's portholes at the sea of stars before her, the rest of the crew nowhere to be seen. Blinking several times, the former Princess took another sip of her favourite brew of coffee, followed by a quick look inside the cup.

It was empty. Again. This was the eighth portion she'd finished, and all of them in a row, at that. Breaking out of her trance, Luna stood up from the comfort of the command chair, the big mug still in her magical embrace. She would've helped somewhere else on the vessel, was it not for her utter convinction of the hopelessness of the current situation. Whether she drinks more or not, who truly cares; the Coltlumbus had long been forgotten, and was stuck eleven long light years away from Equis, burning through the last remnants of its fuel reserves trying to reach the Initiative's first destination. And if that destination turns out to be lacking any opportunities to resupply - and lack them it will - then it doesn't really matter if the few drops of water left onboard are all used for Luna's hot beverages.

Strangely enough, since waking up from stasis, the former Princess had not concerned herself with the wellbeing of either Equis or her comrades nearly at all; no, all she felt was complete, all-encompassing numbness. Simply nothing mattered. She was stuck in a metal tomb hundreds of billions of miles away from anything she'd ever known, loved or fought for, helplessly waiting to be devoured by the dark void of space. The Initiative was over before it even bagan... and the news of a former Princess' disappearance hundreds of years ago alone could've very well caused trouble across Equestria and beyond, so much so that the possibility was scary to even consider. It was all simply... too much. Too much for a healthy mind, too much for anyone wishing to remain sane. And so... perhaps it was better to simply let go...?

With these thoughts at the back of her head, Luna slowly made her way to the coffee machine.

Hah, she thought, How foolish were we to volunteer... we should have stayed in Silver Shoals, alogside Tia... oh, how much would we give to witness our sister's cheerful smile just one more time...

Suddenly, a brief, loud hiss filled the air, signalling a nearby door sliding open, and soon Luna clearly heard slow, quiet hoofsteps approaching her; the former Princess could swear the gloomy sounds were being accompanied by faint, shallow sobs. As she turned her head to the open corridor leading up to the starship's cockpit, the mare was quick to spot a reddish-blue pony coming her way; it was undoubtedly the silhouette of the onboard mechanic, Water Lily. Luna couldn't help but cast a small smile - after all, who knows, maybe some company would help reignite her mind's much-needed potency? Conversations with friends were always welcome, and, just perhaps, might assist in fighting off the dangerous, depressive thoughts Luna could already feel creeping up at the back of her head. After taking a closer look at Water Lily, however, Luna's smile quickly faltered; her initial impression was right - something was very clearly wrong.

Quite certain the mechanic had yet to notice her, Luna decided - without pondering the issue much, to be sure - to take the initiative herself. Raising one of her hooves in a greeting gesture, she quickly uttered an awkward, "Welcome!", the sound of which triggered even her own anxiety almost instantly. There was however hardly time for Luna to scold herself for such strange behaviour...

It was impossible to tell what got into Water Lily so suddenly, but the sound of somepony else in the vicinity clearly triggered all of her senses, spurring them to action. With a yell that could very well echo through nightmares, she jumped back, eyes fixed at Luna. Only after a few long seconds did the mechanic stop the screeching, realising that the former diarch's posture indicated a similar reaction, albeit clearly more concealed; such a withdrawn body coupled with her surprised expression were hardly ambiguous, after all. Breathing heavily in an attempt to calm herself, Lily finally gathered the strength to speak up.

"Wha-what!? Me!? Where!? Uh, I mean, I-... we-... I'm here! Yes! How may I assist you?" she laughed awkwardly, clearly trying to wipe her tears off her fur in a way that would be least noticeable.

Luna rolled her eyes briefly, smiling under her breath; normally, keeping the crew in a decent emotional state would be one of the top priorities, but now... it felt like that's not what anything was about anymore; if anything, it was about calming her friend.

"Bah! If only there was something to assist with at all..." she blurted out with a small laugh without much thinking, only to immediately scold herself mentally for being do outwardly pessimistic.

"Yeah..." replied the mechanic, looking down.

"Uh... but we could use the company, to be sure," uttered Luna in a final attempt to cheer Lily up, desperately hoping her awkward smile would not scare the technician away.

Water Lily laughed quietly. "Yeah, I think I could use that too," she sighed. "Thanks, Luna. So... any updates? Any at all?"

Now it was Luna's turn to utter a deep, distressed sigh. "I fear not. The vessel is proceeding towards the objective, to be sure, however we do not believe any of us may survive to see it..." she chuckled. "Well, aside from perhaps Markethor. I would not be surprised had this been a plan of his all along... how our gracious Twilight Sparkle convinced him to work with us falls beyond even my metaphorical clairvoyance regardless," she finished, staring absent-mindedly through the ship's front porthole as she waited for Water Lily to assume a comfortable seat beside her in the cockpit.

"I suppose so, but we should cut him some slack, honestly," Lily replied, almost mechanically and without any emotions. "He's been staying in line so far. We should give him a fair chance!" the mechanic smiled, in a manner Luna couldn't help but notice was a bit unnatural.

Perhaps she is trying to keep her mind off of something, she thought. But... Tia would always tell us to talk about what we feel... for fear of unbalanced existence.

Luna clenched her eyes shut; this would not be easy for her at all. With a heavy sigh, she spoke up again. "Yes, we... we suppose we should," she sighed once more. "Hey, uh... perhaps there is something bothersome for you out there, Lily?" She ended up blurting out in a single breath, in a manner she realized very well couldn't have impressed anypony. As if on cue, though, Water Lily stood up and lowered her sight, looking somberly at the floor.

"I... let's just say I left someone on Equis, someone... very dear to me, and... well..." she sighed, small tears forming in her eyes, so far held at bay. "Okay, you know what? I may seem all cheerful and happy, about to take on the whole world, but in the end, I'm just a little pony. It doesn't matter to me anymore if we succeed, I... I just want to go home, Luna! I want my dead husband back!" Lily screamed through clenched teeth, tears exploding from her eyes. It didn't take long for the crew mechanic to collapse completely on the floor, her eyes covered with her front limbs, sounds of sobbing echoing throughout the cockpit.

For a long time Luna would not be able to tell what exactly took her over in that moment of weakness; whether it was compassion, pre-existing feelings of friendship or the simple, natural need for a companion, or maybe it was something else entirely, swirling and turning at the back of her head like the mystery it was. But no matter what it happened to be that called her to action, the former Princess, with her muzzle assuming the most ambiguous and bland expression imaginable, stood up from her seat and walked slowly yet steadily towards her distressed companion.

For Water Lily, spiralling deeper and deeper into her worst nightmares, nothing was needed as much as the warm embrace of a large alicorn wing that soon enveloped her absolutely. Suddenly, it felt like the dam intended to hold back ner tears had formed again, and Lily didn't have to fear anything anymore. Looking up, she could not possibly fail to notice the smiling grin of Princess Luna looking at her directly; all these bad feelings... somehow, this one pony banished them in an instant. Finally, still unable to fully stop her sobbing, Lily gathered the couraged to speak once again.

"You know, Luna... I'm an astronaut, yet this is the first time I've ever been to space. I did exceed at every test the Star Control threw at me, but... I think that my stupid, optimistic mind never expected us to actually live out the rest of our lives in this metal trashcan up in the heavens..." Water Lily sighed, clenching Luna's wing tightly as cold shivers traversed her spine. "The Thaumo-spatial drive failing so quickly... you know, I just suppose I never thought my life could get this much worse in a second's worth of time. And now..." she sighed deeply. "I'm sorry. I genuinely am. I... needed this." Water Lily stood up from the floor, wiping the last tears off her eyes, before looking back at Luna. She tilted her head in slight confusion, though, realising the former Princess had been looking through the starship's front porthole for the last few minutes.

"That might be right, indeed," Luna uttered quietly, not moving an inch. "But if we truly are lost in this abyss... then that means mourning provides no effect indeed," she turned back, her expression stoic. "And if survive we shall not... let us revel in friendship and make this time a testament to ponykind. One final time." the former diarch smiled, stretching her wings out once more.

Water Lily smiled, laughing quietly. "Just... don't tell the others about how I just was, alright? I... don't think I'm ready to show myself like this to anypony other than you, ha ha..."

"Not a word uttered. I guarantee it."

And just as such, without any fuss, the two mares embraced each other again, in a hug that would last for hours.

Today was not a good day for Mythic Facade. Not only did he have to deal with all those gut-wrenching feelings sparked by the Initiative's sudden failure, but the realisation he'd also have to spend the rest of his life with people who all deeply despised him began slowly but surely dawning on the astronavigator. And the worst thing was... it hardly seemed like anything he could possibly do would change a thing.

Weakly rolling onto his left side in a way that looked more anemic than anything, Mythic grabbed a pillow from the ground and pushed it against his head, trying to block all the surrounding sounds. Now, in this darkness, noone could see his tears gradually drop onto the bedsheets.

This was it, huh? During training, Mythic never thought he'd be chosen for the final mission. Where he was from, though, rejecting such an opportunity... it was simply never an option. He'd been the pride of his village ever since he'd joined the Star Control, but to lead ponykind into the stars, to contact the first intelligence from beyond Faust? That would be something... entirely different. Something he was never prepared for. Something he was not ready for. Something he did not want in the slightest.

But now... it was the simple reality. Although hardly religious, Mythic just had to wonder if what had transpired was not some sort of divine punishment wrought upon him by a deity known or unknown. It was all too much. It was mental torture.

Sighing deeply and shaking his head, Mythic slowly realised he would not be able to get any more sleep. An annoyed grimace soon entered his muzzle, followed by a deep growl as the navigator stood up and turned the lights in his cabin on. Barely any sound reached him from outside the room.

Great, Mythic Facade thought to himself, Knowing my luck, I'm either already the last one standing, or Lily's just waiting outside this door... with a goddamn knife.

Another sigh. How many had it been by now...? Mythic could not know. This entire voyage had been a giant nightmare. And as such, head hanging low, the astronavigator stepped through the door, wandering aimlessly through the ship.

Mythic tried to estimate roughly how much time had passed since he'd left his quarters; he tried to do so more than once, in fact, but each and every time he would arrive at the same exact conclusion, which he knew very well could not have possibly been true: hours. And yet, everything he saw in all that time could be summed up as walls, doors, floors and ceilings. The same metallic environments he'd seen many times before. The same labels, monitors, wires. The very same rooms he had passed through many times before.

Mythic - like every member of the ship's crew - had learned the layout of the Coltlumbus very well, and it wasn't any sort of art to do so either; the ship was small, with one central corridor and a few smaller ones protruding from it on both sides. The navigator could easily turn around and return to his cabin at any moment, but he did not want to. His eyelids hardly felt heavy anymore, and for some mysterious reason, wandering aimlessly through the vessel brought a little bit of the much-needed calmness and reclusion to the tired stallion.

Suddenly, a loud, unexpected thump brought Mythic out of his thoughts. Looking up from the floor for the first time in a long while, he could not help but immediately take notice of where he stood; right now, in front of him was nothing but the half-open, metallic entrance to the starship's very heart - its engine room. Mythic barely realised as his thoughts of sorrow gave way to raw curiosity; not thinking much, he stepped through the door, only to be greeted by the sight of a pale, thick tail, lifted up vertically, clearly instructing the navigator to wait. Its owner, a large humanoid by the name of Markenthor, was just tinkering with a set of cables and wires next to the main drive core; what exactly he was doing, Mythic couldn't tell. It wasn't exactly like the stallion was a mechanic in the first place, and the Replicant's stoic, unmoved expression was as barely visible as it was enigmatic. A fallen metal pipe next to the humanoid did however betray the source of the loud sound. After a few moments of silence, Mythic realised Markenthor would not speak up; of course he wouldn't, it's not like he had ever done so in training... training which, truth be told, he probably never needed in the first place.

Hoping to break the awkward silence and, just maybe, cast his stray depressive thoughts away for even a second, Mythic soon decided to say something himself.

"Uh... hey there, big guy!" he uttered, unsure of what he wanted to talk about at all, "So, uh... you're doing something there? I mean, of course you are, duh!" Myhtic let a small snicker escape his mouth, "So... what is it that you're doing, by the way?"

It took a good while for Markenthor to react to the navigator's words in any significant way, almost as if the Replicant was effectively filtering them out of his mind, ignoring Mythic's rant absolutely. After a few moments, though, his tail suddenly laid down onto the floor again, and as Mythic returned his gaze to Markenthor's head, he noticed the Replicant looking at him from the side, curiously without even remotely slowing down his previous activity; the biped's pale hands continued adjusting the various wires so quickly and with such precision that it was nigh-impossible for the stallion to see which of the cables were being moved in the first place. Soon, however, Markenthor's sight returned to the panel in front of him and what he presumably considered a much more vital activity.

With a slightly annoyed grimace, Mythic spoke up once again, "So, that's it, huh? You're not even gonna answer me? Fine. It's not like anypony here cares, you know?" The navigator left his mouth open, trying to think of something more to say, something at least slightly more elaborate than just the first words coming to his mind, but to no avail. Slowly, he turned around, ready to leave the room imminently before being stopped in his tracks by a deep sigh.

"I do not concern myself with the petit reasonings of individuals such as yourself, our esteemed astronavigator," a distinguished masculine voice that almost did not fit the pale biped resonated throughout the room, sending brief shivers down the stallion's spine.

Turning around once more, Mythic saw the Replicant now looking at him directly, with an expression of pure, distilled neutrality. "However," Markenthor continued. "Do not for a moment mistake me for your enemy. I am merely here for your... convenience."

For Mythic, this was enough to warrant further questions. Even still, though, he soon found himself in the middle of a tornado of thoughts, and before he knew it, the only thing he was able to utter was an awkward, "What?"

Despite releasing another deep sigh, Markenthor appeared much more troubled than he did annoyed. His luminous eyes felt like they were boring deep into the navigator's soul, examining his entire past, personality and lineage. After a few painful moments, the Replicant spoke again. "Mistakes are a constant in this galaxy. The thaumo-spatial drive, the Nightmare coup, the Replicant Revolution." He looked to the side, as if in thought. "We are but mere pawns in the large game of chance the universe is playing. And these? These are its climaxes."

Mythic tilted his head to the side. "But... okay, what does it all mean? If you messed with the drive to have us stranded in here forever, I swear--"

Booming laughter was all the navigator could hear for the next minute. As it ceased, a large smile still remained on the Replicant's face. By now, his expressions were becoming clearer and clearer. "Mythic Facade, was it? I do admire your resolve to confront someone such as myself so upfront. However, I do believe there is no need to." Swiftly, Markenthor turned to the panel he had been working on and pulled a well-concealed lever. As a soft hum filled the air around them, Mythic could swear something in the engine core almost... awakened. Rose from the dead. "There," the biped's voice brought the navigator's attention back to him. "A simple malfunction of power relays. The Band of a Thousand never does leave sentients in need."

But Mythic was not there to hear the rest of the Replicant's words. With a gallop unseen since the dawn of time, he left, searching desperately for Luna and Water Lily. His cries for attention resonated throughout the entire vessel even as he got further and further away from the engine room.

Markenthor meanwhile, briefly allowing himself to cast a small smile, slowly stood up, shaking particles of dust off of his long, black shirt.

Cold.

That was the only thing Luna could feel. Bone-crushing cold, accompanied by a whole orchestra of silence. The black space she was stuck in waved and swayed, unmoving and yet changing, shifting. It all felt like some sort of... trance, almost.

However hard Luna tried to concentrate, her thoughts were running faster than a Manticore chasing its prey. They were all very... fuzzy, unfocused. Barely tangible. No matter what she did, the former Princess could not remember how she got here.

Suddenly, the black space lit up, and everything around her came to life. With a shriek that echoed through Luna's very soul, the now-bright surroundings thrust her forward, towards a cascade of sounds, colours and flashing lights. Things flickered and blinked at the speed of light.
Luna saw a tide, a grey tide eclipsing the very stars on the midnight canvas. She saw streaks of light racing across her sight. She saw puddles of blood mixed with mud, and a planet being cracked asunder. Finally, after what felt like hours, a faint voice resonated around the former Princess, almost as if echoing throughout a small room.

"Come..." it said. "We... are..."

A set of numbers. One, two, eight, one again and three nines. One, six, seven, seventeen. Nine hundred and twenty four.

Luna's vision turned back to blackness, as everything around her seemed to violently spiral outwards. There was nothing she could do as a giant vortex quickly formed, suddenly sucking the former Princess in. She tried to scream, but to no avail. The black fabric around her suddenly formed into spheres, and Luna's body felt like it was being pulled between the vortex and those black holes. Furious fidgeting did nothing as her body was being pulled asunder. As both forces kept growing stronger and stronger, she-

"Aahhhhh!" Luna screamed, thrusting upwards from her bunk and almost hitting the cabin's roof with her tall horn.

A dream. That's all it was. However... as a dreamwalker, she clearly felt something very... familiar inside of it. Something that almost reminded her of herself.

Wasting no time, Luna got out of her bed, dashing towards the starship's cockpit. As she activated the central intercom, a few bold, and yet oh-so-hopeful words resonated throughout the vessel.

"Attention, everypony! With the thaumo-spatial drive now operational, I might just also be in possession of something that shall ensure our survival..."

Scrap the original 'destination'. 1281999 16717 924 it was!