Unlimited Books, But No Book

Princess Celestia
Ponyville Library, 2 Weeks following Twilight's Disappearance

Ponyville was still in a tense state, one of it's Elements missing. There was a smaller guard presence, as the weeks carried on, now that the alarmed state had settled to a cautious investigation. The Library was still cordoned off and staffed, but seeing Princess Celestia through the windows, or discussing with the posted Royal Guards, was becoming the norm for the locals.

The other Elements would check in often, offering help or checking progress. Without their Element of Friendship, Equestria felt vulnerable, weak to any attack that might loom.

Princess Luna was maintaining Canterlot in Princess Celestia's absence; the Sun Princess having remained inside the library since this whole mess started, rarely leaving, requiring food and such to be brought to her. She was disheveled, forgoing self-care in her persistence to track down Twilight. There were scant few others who could; she was following two-week old magical traces of a now-closed portal, through a microwave, to who-knows-where. It was... trying work, and Celestia's appearance showed it. Her mane was frazzled, she had bags under her eyes, and her mood had soured significantly.

The objects recovered from this entire incident now sat quietly in the forbidden archives, secured under magical lock and key. Twilight's journal had been scoured, time and time again, hoping any new reading might give more insight. Other than her poorly crossed out sections trying to hide her 'stash' under the couch, nothing.

Her horn stops glowing, Celestia's head lowering as she sighs. She is tired. Tired of this... tired of losing students. Twilight's pained face, eyes red as her horn flashed with her magic -- the last moments Celestia saw Twilight still playing in her mind often. She was simply... doing as Starswirl taught her. That interdimensional travel, time travel... any, of these kinds of magics, were dangerous. That even trying to say goodbye was a risk.

Yet Twilight's sheer upset still rang in her head, mirroring Celestia's own upset at being barred from the mirror world, all those years ago.

The portal was closed now; but who knew how things were being affected by Twilight's presence over there. As dangerous as re-opening the portal could be, Celestia had to try. She wasn't losing another student.

With a weary breath, Celestia focuses, her horn glowing brilliant gold once-more, intermingling into the air, seeping through the library, the living room, the kitchen; the entire tree radiating her magic.

Her eyes flash open, her gasp nearly rending her from her spell.

She found Twilight. It's like her magic is a string that goes taut, snapping into place. Her surprise over-rides any long-term common sense. No time to tell anyone. No time to even so much as write a letter.

Without wasting a single moment, every passing second a risk to her student, Celestia's magic swirls and bundles around her in a twirling sphere -- and pops. Princess Celestia is gone, a curious guard peeking their head in through the front door, wondering what the noise was.

Barnon & Twilight
Handelgrohba Station

Twilight can barely contain her excitement, plodding in place as Barnon sits on the Captains chair. Its more of an obligation in case anything goes awry, the Computer handling the actual docking calculations and process; the Ship-Post approaches the large, structure in the distance, the ships screens showing its quiet conversation with the station, getting permission to dock. Ship licenses and docking codes scrawl by, the ship quietly adjusting it's approach.

The Station is sizable, and shaped like a big, blunted oval with several rotating half-rings. Metal and glowing lights, ships of a variety of sizes; it was one thing to look it up on the Holopad. It was another to see the sheer scale for herself. Twilight's eyes are huge, staring through the front window.

"Should be docking in the next... fifteen or so minutes." Barnon informs, leaning to read the console.

"...It's that simple?" Twilight asks, still staring. She looks good in her jumpsuit. It's very... form fitting. Twilight catches him staring, rolling her eyes.

"Uh, yeah. It's just protocol to keep someone in the chair during the whole thing, in case anything kicks up, but otherwise, all automatic." He diverts his gaze, motioning to the console. Twilight trots over, watching the exchange of code as the station gets ever closer, fascinated. Two walls of text, one Green, one Red, run alongside each-other on the screen, taking turns rapidly exchanging lines.

Soon, it's impossible to see the entirety of the station, they're so close. Details become clearer, the large ridges between massive bolted, welded and riveted plates keeping it all together. Blinking lights become easier to see, their scale surprising to even be visible in the eternal blackness that surrounds this floating hunk of metal.

Another small shift drifts away from the station, Twilight's eyes glued to it as they pass.

And after a few, long moments...

Cha-Gunk. A long hissing noise -- and the Ship-Post shakes, securing itself.

"And we have --" Barnon starts, but the Computer pings on loudly.

"Docking completed. Welcome to -- Handelgrohba Station. The food court is currently hosting... Three Deals, at associated Vendors. Medical, Educational, and Enjoyment features are readily available. Thank you for visiting Handelgrohba Sation; kept secure by Bubble Buddy, the lead manufacturer of Childrens Toys, and Ship-To-Ship Missiles." It beeps helpfully, the ship falling silent again.

The airlock light blinks green, signaling the threshold between ship and station is safe.

Barnon motions for the doors; Twilight is practically bouncing in place in excitement. It's hard not to let that infectious mood of hers affect him, catching himself smiling widely.

"Oh, right. I do need to stop and handle the finalization of this contract, but once I'm done with that, then we can check out the Station." Anon explains as they step into the airlock. He's wearing more clothes than he has in the last few weeks. Namely, shoes, socks, and a jacket over his jumpsuit. Spacer fashion at its finest.

She stares at him, lip wobbling, pouting.

"...If you can wait, I'll buy you whatever you want. Within reason." Barnon groans, folding quickly.

The lip-tremble is instantly gone, replaced by a wide, cheeky smile. Manipulative little pony. She knew exactly what she could do to him.

She leans over, nuzzling and resting against his leg.

... Alright, he was over it.

Somehow, Twilight's eyes were wider when the Airlock opened this time, compared to opening to the vast emptiness of space. This wasn't even one of the Luxury stations; more akin to a strip mall, gas station, small town amenities and a truck stop all jammed into one. But to a Pony whose never seen most of those before, Barnon gave her plenty of time to bask.

Industrial was definitely the word to use. Solid, heavy metals, wires and steel, bolts and rivets. Lights would blink, vents would hiss; large signs everywhere, most in Galactic Standard, warning to watch your head, hours of operations, the works.

The Airlock opens to the docking section, a multitude of sizable, simplistic steel hallways, each dwarfing the pair as they cross through them. Eventually, they funnel into a culmination that sections off to different docks for ships, like the one they just came through.

All the various halls culminate in a Checkpoint, eerily similar to an industrialized version of an Airport. Three different lanes are available, with a side waiting area, each organized by priority. A large sign hangs over each, monikering something about Citizen Class. Premium Elite Citizen, Elite Citizen, and Citizen; each progressively looking less tourist-friendly, each Guard stationed smiling less and less.

It's pretty quiet on this side of the Checkpoint, only another Alien in the Elite Citizen line getting paperwork checked. They look nearly human, but have weird slug-eye stalks and a shell on their back. The Checkpoint worker tending to them looks like... a bipedal Winona, panting included.

Twilight is both utterly fascinated, and quickly concerned. Paperwork. She doesn't have any.

Twilight's growing worries are confirmed as Barnon shuffles into the line with the meanest looking guard. Nearly half of this thing is teeth, covered in chitin, hunch-backed and sporting large mandibles. Like someone went crazy with the idea behind a Changeling, but went crazy with it. Big, squishy bug eyes stare at them as they approach.

"Barnon! I don't have papers! Do I need papers?!" Twilight hiss-whispers as she tries to stick close to him, ears pinned back.

Barnon didn't even have any papers. Why did that alien? What was the difference in all the lines?

"Huh? Oh, I'm a Labor-Class Citizen, we don't need those." He replies simply, shrugging.

"He doesn't look very... friendly." Twilight warns, trailing wearily.

"Just follow my lead, and roll with it, alright?" Barnon smiles.

That didn't really help her worries.

The creature chitters as they reach its desk. It's wearing a vest, with a little company logo on the front, matching the stations name.

Twilight can feel her translator make a small vibration, as its chitters, clicks and buzzes are converted.

"Docking. Bay? Ship?" It chitters.

"Bay Four, the Ship-Post." Barnon replies.

"Reason. For. Visit?" It demands, leaning forward.

"Delivery of Ore for the foundry, and resupply for the ship." Barnon informs.

"Cargo..." It buzzes quietly, checking a screen. "...Borutine. Passengers... One."

It leans over the desk, squinting at Twilight.

She tries to smile, but feels like she'd rather go running back to the ship; she compromises by partially hiding behind Barnon's leg.

"Anything. To. Declare?" It turns to look at Barnon.

"Hm? Oh, not at all. Just my... long-term spaceborn solitude support pet." Barnon simply shrugs, leaning against the desk.

The bugs eyes narrow.
"No. Pets. On. Station. Keep. In. Ship."

"Hey, right. Not without paying that uh... pet fee, right?" Barnon nods, glancing back and forth as he slips a small credit chit across the desk.

The bug quickly snatches it, looking under the desk for a few moments. It's wings buzz after a short pause.

"...It. Behaves?"

Barnon nods, throwing Twilight a grin. She frowns slightly, but forces a smile at the bug-man thing.

"Go." It buzzes quietly, shooing the two of them through. The gate blinks, blocker sliding out of the way.

Twilight finds herself quickly scooted through by Barnon's foot, as it shuts firmly behind them.

"...Barnon, did you just bribe that guard?" Twilight whispers once they've gotten a few feet from the checkpoint.

"Not at all. Just paying... fees, to individuals in places of fee-collecting positions." Barnon grins. "Happens all the time. If it wasn't for you, he'd probably have grilled me about the Borutine and some kind of new tariff on ores."

"Is that really how things work around here?" She asks, a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"On Labor stations like these, yeah. Being willing to grease a few palms, appendages or tentacles makes these trips a lot smoother." He continues to explain.

"...So I'm your pet now, huh? Tell me how you really feel." She huffs playfully, trying to ease herself out of her nerves.

"Well, easier than trying to explain you're an uncategorized, sapient species. Unless you'd like to wait the... two Galactic Work-Months and pay the 50,000 space-buck fee, before going in front of the committee to have your 'people' registered and tested for sapience." Barnon offers, throwing her a cheeky look.

Twilight is about to retort, but squints at him. Did he spend his time researching ways for her to stay? Okay, actually kind of sweet.

"...Just don't go buying me a collar or anything. I'm not into that, and the dog-outfits were enough." Twilight finally retorts.

"Duly noted."

The gate slowly opens up into the main hub of the Station; with a massive, supported roof, its like an industrialized multi-level space mall, with a variety of districts, drones flying overhead, and aliens passing by, selling goods, running shops, or milling around. Limbs vary in count, and they're just as colorful as the Ponies in Ponyville; though there's not a cutiemark to be seen. Even just at the entrance, there's already numerous things that draw the attention.

There's some kind of noodle shop being ran by a creature with near a dozen arms, serving some kind of armored bear-creature whose young hang off its back. Numerous more creatures, all varying in limb count -- even a few more humans -- can be seen huddled and sat around it, slurping loudly. Twilight had already seen other humans while scouring the net, but seeing them in person, as with other creatures, for comparison to Barnon? Her eyes were bulging out of her head already.

Further down, there looks to be some kind of Ship vendor, selling a variety of services and parts for passing vessels; he almost looks human, but frills sprout from his head, as do numerous eyes.

A group of chuckling, hefty creatures meander past, heading towards some kind of slummy bar, dressed in varying levels of overalls and working gear, not too dissimilar to Barnon's gear.

Barnon notices her staring, pausing to let her catch up.
"Those guys are Atmospheric Miners. They land in a drop pod on a planet, mine, load up and head back to their Carry-Ship. Different style of work, since they don't rely on lasers." Barnon explains, once she's back to trotting alongside him. "They have to deal with local flora and fauna, weather conditions... whole different beast from my work. And half the time, they still have to wear suits."

Twilight stares after them, looking into the bar. It seemed rowdy in there.

"Just need to confirm the delivery with the Contractor; tag says he's at the stations Foundry." Barnin adds, pausing again. He had a feeling he'd need to keep waiting for her, but he didn't mind. It was fun, seeing her rampant curiosity, her brain clearly brimming with thoughts and questions.

Whatever the Foundry was, it wasn't what Twilight was expecting. It looked like a massive workshop, with loud machines, massive conveyors and cranes, and numerous machines working. Barnon explained it as the Stations in-house means of producing what it needed; they had to get submitted through another checkpoint just to get to talk to his Contractor. Thankfully, no bribe this time.

It's like... a large, fat cat, sat on its back legs, in a business suit. Like Opal. But nearly eight feet tall, and almost as wide. It's talking to several of the workers, all donning hard hats and safety vests. The workers look like four-foot tall upright ants, of various species of ant. One of them has a comically large, flat head.

Barnon asks Twilight to sit back for a moment, before he approaches the large cat-thing. She watches curiously, as Barnon greets him with a... big, fluffy hug. Okay, maybe not so bad.

The two get into some conversation, the cat grinning widely. Very large, very sharp teeth, and predatory eyes that flicker around the room -- especially her. Twilight feels a shiver run down her spine. That might be why Barnon asked her to stay back.

The conversation doesn't seem to last terribly long; it's hard for Twilight to pick up anything past the sound of the machinery, and the hardhat they leant her temporarily. The two shake hands and paws, and Barnon heads back over towards her, nodding for him to follow.

Once they're back out if the Foundry, machinery no longer ringing in her ears, Twilight finds a chance to speak up
"So... who was that? Do you know him? Is that... it, now he has the Borutine? Do we need to bring it to him?" She starts peppering, curiosity overflowing.

"That was Mister Ograrrus Fudgepaw, an Offiander. They're almost 1:1 like the Cats from my world, but large and bipedal; their planet is apparently a lot bigger than ours, so they all have this... respiratory machine to help with their air intake." Barnon starts explaining; not quite what she asked, but he'd get there, and he knew any tidbit of information he was willing to offer, Twilight would gobble it up.

She nods along furiously, requiring some slight aiming with her foot so she doesn't bump into one of six legs of a passing Ubiqi. "S-sorry!" She shouts after it.

It jiggles at her, body made of some kind of jello. Her translator beeps softly, responding in a far less kind way, filled with a colorful variety of disgruntled slurs.

Twilight blinks several times, eyes wide, before quickly cantering to catch up to Barnon.

"Anyway, the Station will unload it from my storage Bay, and place it in Mr Fudgepaws. Once that's done and it's all accounted for, I get paid directly to my bank account." Barnon rounds up, putting hands in his pockets as he turns to Twilight, right as she comes to a stop in front of him.

"That seems awfully... trusting. Do you know him?" Twilight fields carefully.

"Nope, but there's little to worry. Most of it is automated, and heavy laws against skimping on work like this keep most people lined up straight. He'd get struck by some serious fines if he didn't pay, like I would if I failed to deliver without proper reasoning. Big company get mad when no get their precious ores." Barnon says in a mocking voice, chuckling. Since they arrived, he's been in a better mood. Probably because payday was around the corner.

"Proper reasoning? Like... if the Ore Deposit was small, or already mined?" Twilight guesses.

"Yeah, that kind of stuff." Barnon nods. "If it's an ore collection on an asteroid, it might have drifted between the reported times and when someone actually got out there, too far to be found..." Twilight makes a little 'Ooh' noise, nodding as Barnon continues to explain.

But a new curiosity tickles her little purple thinktank.
"So... why did I have to sit back? Could I have met the big cat guy, Ograrrus?"

"Oh fuck no." Barnon laughs loudly, confusing Twilight. When he's done chuckling, he holds up a hand to explain. "Offianders can only work with other Carnivores, and are dicey at best with Omnivores. They get hungry around Herbivores, and even us Humans barely squeeze in to get tolerated. If the deal was out in the wild and not on this station, he might've tried eating us."

Twilight's eyes are wide, mouth agape. He looked like a big, cuddly bipedal version of Rarity's pet, mind for the sharp teeth and creepy eyes. Now she knew why.

"He asked me like, three times if he could buy you, because you looked so tasty." Bardon explains, amused at the horrified look on Twilight's face.

"H-he what?!" She exclaims.

"Said no, obviously; explained you weren't for sale. But, since you aren't a recognized species, right now you're only protected by property laws, being listed as my Long-Term Spacetime Emotional Support Pet. So, uh... don't wander to far. And do not get stuck alone with that guy." Barnon grins sheepishly.

Twilight stares at him for several, long moments.

She... has been entirely relying on him to not be screwed over, considering the insane technological and cultural schism between their worlds. She's already this deep on trusting him... and he's been entirely upfront.

She did also have full unbridled access to his ship and information sources. Her world wasn't squeaky clean either... and she can't fault him for simply knowing how to navigate a harsher world that he was born into.

She sighs, bumping her flank against his leg.
"I am... safe, right Barnon?"

"Of course. Nothing will happen to you, I promise. We just have some extra rules to play around." Barnon reassures, smiling down at the little pony.

"Just no collars. Or leashes. Or saddles." Twilight chuffs, trying to lighten the mood.

"You guys know what Saddles are? Wait -- who rides them?" Barnon asks, face twisting in confusion.

Twilight looks at him, confused.
"Nobody rides a Saddle, Barnon." She snrrks, shaking her head.

...He'd break that one to her later.

As hooves and boots softly clank on the metal floors of the station, headed for more commercial and consumerist-focused sections to enjoy what Handelgrohba had to offer for the travel-sick and space-weary, chatting and joking about the oddities they passed.

Unaware of the quiet, yellow slitted eyes trailing them from behind, shifting through crowd and shop alike in the shadows.

Nor the sudden appearance of a large, confused white horse, directly into the Ship-Posts kitchen with a burst of golden light.