Barnon & Twilight
6 Days from Handelgrohba Station

Twilight slowly spins past Barnon, who idly floats a few meters from the ship.

They're suited up again and on their second space-walk, the Ship-Post slowly coasting past a tri-planet system. Shifting, swirling distant crimson galaxies pepper the distance, light-years away. This time, after some extensive reading, Twilight is the one wearing the propulsion belt.

Good thing it was adjustable.

She's picking up on the controls pretty quickly; it primarily handles all the calculations by itself, just need directing.

She spins past him, giggling as she tries to orbit the ship. The belt makes various, quick boosts of adjustment; rather than warn her, Barnon decides to let her discover her tether is only so long.

One loop.

Two loop.

There's no sound, but he hears her grunt over their comms as her line reaches its end, wrapped around the ship, and she thumps against the side of it.

Barnon can't help but laugh, getting an irked and confused Twilight questioning him.
"W-what happened? I didn't break something, did I? Why are you laughing?"

"You forgot about your tether." Barnon oh-so helpfully points out. Twilight glances back, gaze trailing up the sturdy cord that was now wrapped around the ship several times.

"...Oh."

"That's your lifeline, that stops you from flying away into nothingness. Always have to keep it in the back of your mind." Barnon explains. He wasn't so worried in her case, as he could just crawl his line back and fly over to catch her, but in solo scenarios, there was nobody to help.

But it was also funny seeing her wrap herself around the ship.
"Alright, now you gotta go back. Unwrap yourself." He wiggles a finger, reclined in nothingness.

"Okay." Twilight nods. She pushes off the ship, belt carefully adjusting her to reverse her process. It takes her longer, since she's trying to be so careful now.

Eventually, she's unwrapped, tether floating idly in space after her. She coasts towards him, belt pack carefully adjusting her to stop very, very close to him.

"Gonna try again?" Barnon teases, alluding to the last time they had their helmets this close together.

He can barely see the cheeky grin on her face through her visor, as her horn begins to glow.

"Twilight, what are you --" Barnon starts, glancing up.

A shimmering, purple glow begins to encapsulate them, blinking into existence above their heads. It slowly swirls around them, encapsulating them in a twinkling bubble. Their tethers are held still, the bubble formed around them and holding them firm.

Barnon waits with squinted eyes for something to happen.

Nothing happens.

"I've... studied the pressurization effects of the airlock." He hears Twilight say softly, voice crackly through the comms.

The bubble slowly shifts in hue, becoming more and more translucent, until it's nearly invisible.

Barnon watches as Twilight slowly unclasps her helmet with her magic, before he can reach out to stop her.

She shakes her mane once it's free, smiling at him. She's fine.

"...Did you just surround us in a warm pressurized bubble? With air?" Barnon asks quietly. She doesn't hear him; he's still wearing his helmet, and she's not wearing hers.

He feels his helmet get tugged on, hissing as it unclasps. A moment of panic instills Barnon; he's in space. Bubble or not, the helmet stays on.

Yet, off it goes, floating alongside hers.

He's in space. Without a helmet. The ship is past them, meters away, the void of nothingness held back by a thin, sparkling bubble that's barely visible.

"...How did you?" Barnon goes to ask -- only find a certain Purple Pony pushes herself forward with magic, pressing her lips to his. She wraps her hooves around him, leaning into him.

His arms slowly trace up her back, hugging her in turn; it's awkward with the air tank on her back, but...

Twilight pulls away, grinning proudly.
"...Didn't butt visors this time."

"Did you do all this just so you could--"

"Maybe."

"...I'm impressed, Purple. And also a little scared. How did you pull this off?"

"You know the answer, Barnon."

"Right; Magic."

"No--well, yes, but also hours of careful calculations and research. Matching the air composition and pressure, ensuring we wouldn't freeze or that the bubble wouldn't snap our tethers. Simple stuff."

"Right. Good job, Twi."

She grins, giggling. "Just good job?"

A hand softly brushes her cheek, cupping her chin.

"Amazing, as usual. Incredible. The one and only." Barnon whispers, Twilight giggling.

They lost track of how long they spent out there.

Barnon & Twilight
5 Days from Handelgrohba Station

Another package for the nerdy purple pony has arrived, the Spamazon Drone announcing its arrival as it slots onto the side of the ship.

Twilight has fully fallen to the dopamine circle of neo-capitalism, excitedly trotting in place in front of the drone chute. She doesn't even wait for Barnon, plucking the package from the slot with her magic.

Within moments, she's already tearing into it.

The bathroom hisses open as Barnon emerges, tugging at his jumpsuit, scratching his face. He pauses, looking at the package-pouncer.

"...Oh, delivery came in. Nice." He muses, walking over to slump across the cushy bed-couch-but-never-couch, watching her.

A variety pack of writing utensils -- apparently they only had quills and ink there, so pens and pencils were a big step up. They'd all probably get disassembled later to see how they worked.

A random combo-package of frozen meals to try. They really should try cooking at some point, but the cheap price made them just so, so tempting. Any with meat were obviously for Barnon, but Twilight seems to have adapted to the whole meat thing. Doesn't eat it herself, but doesn't go green when it's mentioned.

Ah -- that's what Barnon was watching for, smile on his face.

Twilight's pulled out a jumpsuit; sized for her, and styled close to his own.

Again, sourced from some distant space-dog program with surplus. Humanity really wanted dogs in space, so that left him some good wiggle room, since Twilight was about the size of some of the largest breeds.

"...Is this for me?" She grins, turning to look at him excitedly.

"Wanted you to have something to wear at the station. Not all species wear clothes or whatever, but I..." He trails off. How does he say, I thought it'd look cute if we matched, without sounding gay?

She bunches it up, holding it close to her nose, giving it a sniff.
"...Dog again?"

"Lucky you that an entire, domesticated species exists that fits your dimensions." Barnon nods. About as fluffy in some cases, too.

She's already checking the tag to see how to wash it. At least she liked it; he could tell by her smile, and the way she keeps holding it up to herself.

"Oh, should be something else in there." Barnon points to the box. Her ear flicks curiously, peering inside, before her magic pulls out a small... it looks like an earpiece, with a clip.

She looks at him quizzically, holding it up.

"Translator; goes in your ear. Not every species speaks Galactic Standard like we do... which, I'm still not going to even try to broach why we speak the same language."

Oop. Shes got that look on her face again, the one where she's about to go for a long winded explanation. Normally, Barnon doesn't mind those at all; except she just turned the translator on, gripping it too tightly with her magic.

His own translator, built into his surgically-installed translator (work requirement), pings. Uh oh.

With nothing to translate, being spoken in the same language, Barnon is delightfully treated to the same explanation, twice, one slightly delayed behind the other.

"Actually, it's a very interesting conundrum!"

"Twi."

"I've been reviewing the mutual histories of our worlds, and I've found some remarkable coincidences that could truly lean to one, or the other, almost appearing like an... inspiration to the other!"

"Twi."

"We share numerous technologies, several species of my world are mentioned in yours as legend -- I have several theories currently floating, each gaining more or less credibility with every new thing I learn. And the --"

"TWI." Barnon cuts in.

"Yes?"

He holds a finger up, waiting for the second, machine-translated Twilight to stop echoing the same words in his ear.

"You wanna turn off the translator when you don't need to translate?" He asks weakly, jamming a pinky in his ear.

"Oh. Oh! Was it trying to translate but had nothi--" She starts to summarize.

"Off first, please." He reminds, wincing again.

"Oop--" She mutters, fiddling with it with her magic, until it blinks off. "Sorry."

"...We're good. Continue?"

"That seems like a... significant oversight, to let them just echo like that." Twilight muses.

"Works for dialects of the same language, too. Accents." Barnon explains.

"Are you able to turn yours off?" She asks, tilting her head, unsure of where his is.

"Nope. Labor-Class Citizens are required to have a usable and ready Translator. Mixed species, mixed jobs." He explains, pointing to his right ear.

"And that never backfires?"

"Yours is a knockoff brand; mine and other Labor-Class are set to specific frequencies and codes, so we don't do that to each-other." He clarifies.

"Oh. Well -- so with this, I can speak to aliens, like you?"

"If they're a recognized species, but can't speak Galactic Standard, they'll have a language file that translates words, phrases, meanings and body language to you, depending on the organism." Barnon nods.

She ogles it, trying to blindly clip it to her own ear. Barnon leans over, helping nestle it against her ear, clipping it to the edge.

"Not quite the ear shape it was made for, but close enough." Barnon says, leaning back.

She nuzzles his leg in passing, bolting down the ship to get her suit washed.

Barnon squints, thinking back to her echoed explanation. Why were their worlds so awkwardly similar?

Barnon & Twilight
4 Days from Handelgrohba Station

"Oh, Ghorutal! You can't!" The four-armed, squiggly probably-a-woman Zhapdonian dramatically yells.

"But I must. Cry not for me; know that every sunrise, I rise with it, thinking only of you." The Ughdosan... something, whispers, holding its... face. Probably.

And then their numerous orifices meet very sloppily, on the cusp of a heroic sacrifice.

Twilight's lips are pursed, watching with... well, it was something alright. This seemed more Rarity's fare than hers. Not that she couldn't get into a good romance work...

She glances beside herself, to Barnon. The two were comfortably laid on the bed, watching some Intergalactic Dramas or whatever was popular at the time. Barnon seems far more invested than she is, sniffling and dabbing his wet eyes. She swears he even mutters something about how sweet the moment is. Yeah, he'd get along great with Rarity, Twilight chuckles to herself.

The sad pang of thought about the looming end of their time together is quickly ignored.

Honestly, she was just glad Barnon had the same amount of limbs, and roughly the same count of holes.

They have a few snacks on the coffee table, but those have long since been demolished. Twilight's stomach growls softly. She could use some actual food.

She turns, hopping off the back of the bed towards the kitchen.
"Want anything?" She asks aloud, pulling the fridge door with her magic. Frozen burritos, times five... and not much else that she was keen on touching. They weren't bad, but she was getting a little... tired of the same thing.

Barnon watches Twilight ruminate over the exact same five frozen meals, propping his head up.
"Want to order something?" He asks.

She tilts her head. "Like, from Spamazon?"

"No, from a restaurant. Now that we're in Sector 52, we're in range of a few places Delivery Distances." Barnon corrects.

Twilights eyes go wide at the prospect, slamming the fridge shut, practically launching herself back onto the bed.

"Computer; pause show, list all restaurants in Delivery Distance on TV?" Barnon calls out.

"Ay, fuck off yoo. Get it yerself." The computer helpfully pings, before the TV display flickers from the drama, to a listing of nearby places they could get delivery from.

"...Phasobar Pasta? Not on your life." Barnon gripes, face scrunching.

"What's wrong with Phasobar?" Twilight asks, curiously glancing between him and the TV.

"Not for our kind of digestive tracks. It's like... you know how coins taste? Now, absorb that, as pasta, through your skin."

Twilight looks objectively horrified, face contorted in a sickened shrivel.

"My thoughts exactly. Next is... Mexican. Not bad, but we've already been eating frozen that for weeks. Defeats the point."

"Huh. Burritos are from this Mexican in this place?" Twilight tilts her head.

"Well, it's a heavily watered down cultural food, spread across the stars. People will argue how true to form it is for hours. And sure, they have more than burritos, but..."

"Something new, if we're eating in." Twilight agrees.

"Bingo. Let's see... oh, hey. There's a food ship passing us soon." Barnon hums, curious.

"A what?"

"Oh, like a food truck, but in space."

"...A what?"

"A food... wagon?"

"Explain."

The rest of the day is spent looking up the long history of Food Trucks, their transition to Food Ships, and what cars even are.

They spent so long on it, they missed the window to order.

They went with Mexican.

Barnon & Twilight
3 Days from Handelgrohba Station

The soft low-light of Night Mode is the only thing that keeps the ship from being in pitch blackness.

Twilight lays nestled against Barnon's side, turned to him, while he lays on his back.

She's been having trouble falling asleep.

Barnon idly strokes her back, the other hand holding the hoof laid on his chest. He can tell by her quiet ruminations. Little pony, big thoughts.

Twilight lets out a long, built up sigh.

Very big thoughts.

"...Are you still awake, Barnon?" She asks softly. A little pinch of her flank tells her, he in fact, is.

"Do you ever miss your home, Barnon?"

"This is my home. If you mean, like... before, then no, not really." He shrugs.

She shifts to look at his face.
"Could you... tell me about it?"

"Little homesick?" He whispers back.

After a short pause, she nods.

"Sure, Purple. Nothing special really..." Barnon starts, taking in a slow breath as he recalls and regales Twilight.

Born on one of the thousand Colonies that Earth had long since shot to the stars, everything was idealic, even dreamy. His mother, father, three sisters and four brothers worked the Hydro-Farms, toiling the hours away alongside their mechanical laborers.

He called Hyderoxi-3 his home until he was a young man; there's only so many nights where you can look up from the crops, and stare at the stars, where the shipping lanes and frigates rocketed from the atmosphere towards, and wonder... when is it my turn?

Of course, it all went terribly when the Reapers attacked --

Twilight softly smacks his chest.

Barnon tsks. "Tried to slip that one by you, see if you fell asleep."

"Nope. Listening with rapt attention. Continue?" She prods; littlest smirk visible in the soft low-light.

Barnon chuckles, continuing.

Eventually, his chance came. A mining company ship that had stopped by to re-fuel, had put out a hiring notice among the locals; they were headed out to a job mining asteroids, and were looking for a few extra, cheap hands. A few of the younger guys, Barnon included, were interested; hard work, but a chance to see space. The stars.

And with a tearful goodbye, Barnon went. He had a few chances to go home, kept up now and then with his family through email, but... he just started doing his own thing. Got good at what he did, worked hard. Put forward a smart investment on a refurbished ship, later to be known as the Ship-Post, and within a few years, was doing things by himself.

"...And now I find myself sharing my little ship with a little pony, snuggled up on my bed." Barnon rounds it off, pressing her nose with a finger.

"How often do you talk to your family?" She asks.

Barnon shrugs. "Holidays, mostly. They were good, but... I'm better out here, on my own. Comfortable."

"What about friends? You don't seem to talk to many people, except the Computer, and those people you insult on the Forums." She muses quietly.

"Yeah. Just... work guys I knew. Little hard keeping relations in this line of work, and with a ship this size." Barnon relents; not before he gets a chuckle out of Twilight knowing what he gets up to.

"I think you'd like my friends. I hope you can meet them, one day." She sighs.

"Not making as much progress as you thought?"

"I'm trying to research your dimension, while trying to practice and ascertain as much of the spell as I can that brought me here. It's... difficult. I don't know if I'm missing something, or if your world... worlds, are just so different. But there's no magic here. Anywhere that I've seen. And without that to work off of..." Twilight starts to mutter in sad thought.

Barnon softly kisses the top of her head, just below the horn. He's gotta tilt his head to do it, but she always melted a little when he did.
"Told you, I'd wait as long as you need me to. Why don't you tell me about your home, then? About your friends? You've mentioned Spike a few times."

Twilight nods, shifting into a more comfortable lean, starting with how she first moved to Ponyville...

Barnon & Twilight
2 Days from Handelgrohba Station

Barnon sits comfortably on his captains chair, one leg crossed over the other.

Twilight is comfortably laid on the bed at the moment, doing her usual. She's started to commandeer both the Holopad, and the TV, using both for her research and note-taking. She'd figured out how to use a pen to tap on the keyboards, but felt like her voice was just faster.

Barnon enjoyed her voice, so he didn't mind. It let him chime in with interruptions; he could get away with one or two before she got snippy about it.

Barnon didn't mind basically being ousted from his entertainment sources. He was the one that showed her how the screens could cross over between devices.

No, his current problem... was trying to play off that he's been staring at Twilight for the last hour.

Whatever pose she got into that she found comfortable, half-tucked in blankets and propped up on pillows... it was fucking working for her. The back arch? Arching. The ass? Assing. Good lord. Lording.

She of course, was none the wiser, fully engrossed in her work. It was primarily split between discovering everything she could about his dimension, and experimenting with her magics and its effects in a place without magic.

The most notable thing, was how quickly she stopped casually using her magic. She realized that, without being 'home' to recharge her natural magic state, she was basically emptying a gas tank she had no way to refuel. While her body naturally produced magic, here, it was not at nearly enough of a rate.

She was relieved that she had left him that charged gem; it could serve as a power source if the demands of re-opening the portal were too much.

She was also trying to find if any other systems or planets were host to similar phenomenon like her magic, but nothing so far. It wasn't from a lack of trying, though. Barnon was always happy to bring her something to eat or a coffee to keep her going. It kept her mind off the very thing she was researching about.

Funny, that.

But back to the important part. Twilight's ass. She shifts her weight on the pillow she's got her hips on, Cutie Mark barely peeking out of the blankets. At the right angles, this little purple nerd had some serious curves.

Barnon has to bite his fist at one point, spinning around to watch the passing stars at they continue to zip through the endless void at BlipSpeed.

He turns around again pretty quickly. He doesn't even need to pretend to be doing anything else; not that she'd be upset or anything. She knows that he stares. But she's so entirely, completely distracted.

...

He should try grabbing her ass. But she's distracted. Well, that's the whole point. What if... she kept working. And he grabbed her ass. They were that far along, right? It was one thing to grab her flank when they were... in the mood, or being intimate. But just a candid ass grab?

...Fuck it.

Barnon slips from the chair, making it seem like he was casually meandering to the kitchen for a snack.

She's none the wiser, facing away.

Leaning against the countertop, Barnon plans his approach. He waits until she's in the middle of recording another of her findings, scrawling through a page, clearing her throat before she speaks.

"--orary log, Thirty-One. Today's research has proven fruitful. I continue to learn of Atoms, and the building-blocks that structure this reality. If my studies are to be believed, which after numerous quality-checks from a variety of sources, they are, Equestria too may be built of these 'Atoms', at the some molecular--"

Barnon slowly creeps forward, pushing off the counter. He steps slowly, and carefully, walking on the balls of his feet.

"--that magic itself, may be a molecular property. An independent study into the direct definition of magic would not be anything new, but--"

He's getting close to the edge of the bed, ever so carefully leaning, hands pressing slowly into it. She's none the wiser, poking at the Holopad with a hoof.

"--useful in my current search for a possible anchor between dimensions. I will include this in my... uh... -- hm." She pauses, tapping the pause button with a hoof.

She turns, glancing towards the Captains chair. "Barnon, how do I 'bookmark' again...? Barnon?"

Perfect.

"EEP!" Twilight squeaks loudly as both of Barnon's hands grab her flank, flinching upright.

"Yes?" Barnon answers, grinning -- Twilight's tail flicking his face several times in retaliation.

"Don't DO that!" Twilight huffs loudly, glaring over her shoulder at him.

Barnon grimaces, letting her go. "Oop. Sorry -- I thought that--"

"No, not that. You can... grab my flank, you dingwad. Just don't sneak up on me!" She pouts, glaring at him.

"...Oh, okay." Barnon nods, pursing his lips.

The two stare at each-other. Twilight glances between his hands, and her flank.

"...Well?" She tsks expectantly, kneading the bed with her hooves.

"Oh. Sorry." Barnon grabs her rear again.

Twilight hums.

"...Anyway, how do I 'bookmark' things I want to visit again?" She continues on, 'ignoring' his hands.

Squeeze.

Barnon & Twilight
1 Day from Handelgrohba Station

Another quiet 'night' in Galactic Standard time.

Another night spent side-by-side under the sheets of Barnon's bed.

Another night where neither are quite asleep yet.

Barnon was ready to conk out for the night; but a fidgeting purple pony nestled against his side, under his arm, was having trouble doing the same.

In an effort to keep it a surprise, he forbade her from searching up anything about Handelgrohba. It had the unfortunate side-effect of overexciting the Pony, and now she couldn't sleep.

Both stare up at the ceiling of the Ship-Post. Trying to stem her rampant, can't-sleep-jitters, she's been asking questions. A lot of them. Barnon is doing his best to humor her, and said questions, but is the actually tired one of the pair.

"...How many Aliens do you think we'll see?" Twilight asks quietly, hooves tapping together.

"At least three." Anon mumbles back through half-closed, tired eyes.

"What kind of ships do you think will be there? More like the Ship-Post?"

"Probably. A class or two higher at most. It's a labor-focused Station with some amenities for passing crews, so nothing crazy you've probably already looked up about other stations." Anon mumbles again, though now behind a playful side-eye.

Twilight purses her lips, guilty as charged. She may have snooped and circumvented his rule by looking up other, similar stations; also Residential, Commercial, Vacation -- lots of Station types. And ship types. And alien types.

"...I haven't been this nervous since I started tutoring under the Princess." Twilight admits, shifting to try and look at Barnon's face. He looks half asleep, but gives her a soft, reassuring smile.

"I think compared to that, this is nothing."

"Barnon. Visiting an Alien Space-Station? That's a first for Pony-Kind, on numerous fronts. The scientific documents that could be written from being able to say that sentence ALONE is crazy!" She protests.

"Perspective, then; because to me, having a Princess, who can move the Sun, whose sister moves the Moon, and is one of three Alicorns in all of existence, kind of tops visiting some space-trucker refuel gas-space-station." Barnon chuffs. "Makes you pretty damn special in my eyes, if you're her top student. Well, for more reasons than that, but still."

"Please, Barnon. It's not that impressive." She mutters, huffing to hide her growing blush; before she finds a hand tenderly holding her chin.

"Hard disagree, purple. Most special Pony I know."

"I'm the only Pony you know!"

"And if I knew another, you'd still be the most special."

She purses her lips, pouting.
"...Promise?"

"Promise."

Hoof on his chest, she slowly shifts to lean against him, pressing her lips to his.

Author's Note