The DESTINY Exploration

Chapter 1 : Adieu, Jonah

[GOOD MORNING, CAPTAIN]

“Good morning, Jonah! How is everything looking?”

[ALL LIFE-PRESERVING FUNCTIONS ARE OPERATIONAL]

[SLIGHT MAGNETIC SHIELD REDUCTION AFTWARD IN QUADRANT 2; PRIORITY 0.3]

[TIME SINCE INITIAL DEPARTURE: 6 MONTHS, 1 DAY]

[TODAY’S BREAKFAST: BACON, HAM, CHEESE IMITATION OMELETTE, ORANGE JUICE]

“Man, 6 months? Have to be clearing the system by now…hey Jonah, can you transfer energy to the aft from the starboard sections, please?”

[CONFIRMING ENERGY TRANSFER…ALL SECTIONS OF THE MAGNETIC FIELD UNIVERSALLY EFFECTIVE]

“Thank you, Jonah. Let’s listen to some tunes, shall we?”

Waking up every morning to the Beatles never gets old, but this experiment the United States threw me into can be rather lonesome. Project DESTINY only needed me to program the basic interfaces in the ship’s mess hall, a really simple task; yet the council in charge of the Astronautics Exploration Administration insisted on employing me full-time. Eventually, I became the chief programming officer of the entire project, which landed me on this drifting space lunchbox they called a ‘scouting ship’.

Being in space for the first time is still exciting, but seeing a gaping void for the past couple months might be getting to me. I didn’t expect them to send me in this tin can they called a ship. Not my recommendation for the heavy-hearted. At least I still have Jonah, right?

[APPROACHING SOLAR SYSTEM’S KUIPER BELT; ESTIMATED THRU TIME: 16 HOURS]

16 hours of hellish travel through an asteroid-infested brick wall. This is the only part of the journey I feared the most because our automatic piloting algorithm remains physically untested. Also concerns me that the lead nation developing it was Japan. I pray we had competent translators, and the ON/OFF toggle doesn’t actually mean LIFE/DEATH or some other metaphysical jargon.

One thing I remember when the Administration trained me for this exploration was the constant reminder of the risk involved. Granted, I was pretty frightened by the idea of becoming the first human guinea pig to be jettisoned beyond Jupiter, but the balance between life and death never dissuaded me from doing any of this. However, I was pretty stubborn to try this; the project managers had more qualified astronauts that could take up the mantle. Probably should have listened to them, now I can’t stop quaking in my bodysuit!

Jonah, however, is a different story. He may sound like a plutonium-enhanced artificial intelligence without a heart, but his sense of humor is top class!

[YELLOW ALERT STATUS: OUTER KUIPER BELT OBJECTS AVERAGE VELOCITY: 3.6 KM/SEC]

“Ha, it almost sounded like you said there were gigantic boulders moving that fast in space. I was scared for a moment.”

[CONFIRMING VELOCITY: 3.6 KM/SEC]

“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO REPEAT YOURSELF! *ahem* Jonah, how long until our destination is reached?”

[APPROXIMATE ARRIVAL TIME: 10 MINUTES]

“Keep it up, we are almost in the clear!”

Typically, one would think that a string of closely-knit objects would be more dangerous; less room to maneuver. But for the faster objects, especially ones that can be half the size of some of Saturn’s moons, it is even more suspect. In an instant, you could be colliding with something many thousand times your size-

[EXITING KUIPER BELT; SWITCHING SECURITIES TO NORMAL]

“Thank you, Jonah, you done goo-“

A loud crash resounded from the side of the ship. “What was that?!”

[EXTERNAL DAMAGE TO STARBOARD HULL; SHIELDING DOWN TO 10% CAPACITY]

“Jonah, you said you fixed it! Why is it…WOAH”

[WARNING: ANOMALY DETECTED ON FLIGHT PATH, INTENSE GRAVITY FIELD DETECTED]

“Identify it, JONAH!”

[ANOMALY DETECTED IS IMPOSSIBLE: CLASS A SCHWARTZCHILD WORMHOLE]

“Jonah, we’ll be crushed if we go into there! Can’t we avoid it?!”

[GRAVITATIONAL PULL IS INESCAPABLE; CONFINING AIR PRESSURE TO BRIDGE, PREPARE FOR COLLISION]

“Jonaaaaaaaaah!”

“…Jo…Jonah…we lived…where are we?...”

[SWITCHING TO MANUAL CONTROLS, JONAH A.I. OFFLINE]

“Figures, he had to go and crap out on me. Let’s see…I don’t have any idea what system we are in. Uncharted, huh? This isn’t what I had in mind when they told me “the first great adventure for our race.””

I quickly figured out that I couldn’t control the ship, and I realized we were in orbit around a planet similar to Earth: land, oceans, clouds, and the computer indicated a breathable atmosphere. One moon orbited the world we happened upon, everything pointed in the direction of it being my home, but…

But something didn’t immediately sit well with me; I needed to figure a few things out.

“Ummm…Jonah, how long has it been since we escaped the wormhole?”

[…………….]

“Right…you aren’t online. I have to figure this out myself?!”

I did recall during training a hand guide containing emergency formulas in case the onboard AI kicked the bucket temporarily. ‘Approx’s Formulae’ contained all the necessary calculations I needed, to include compensating for red or blue shift, identifying the parallax of neighboring star systems…I wish I had paid more attention when I minored in Astronomy.

Using the booklet, I figured nothing out as far as location: the constellations are completely foreign to me and to the astronomical atlas. However, I did figure out a couple interesting items. Technically, it’s been a couple hours since we were ejected from the wormhole, but the computers read 12 hours. Somehow we jumped ahead 10 hours, even though physically it has been 2 hours since our collision with the anomaly.

In my peripheral vision, something flashed and caught my eye. Quickly, I ran to the starboard viewing platform to see the object approaching. It was too bright to identify, but it made a beeline for the belly of the craft!

“Jonah, wake up! Foreign object approaching us! Wait…why am I saying “Wake up!” to a friggin computer?!”

[PREPARE FOR CRASH LANDING; APPROXIMATE TIME OF CRASH: 25 SECONDS]

“Dang it, Jonah! You turn back on AFTER we get hit! Why did you…aaaaaah!”

“…hey there fella! Git yerself together!...HEEEY!”

With a jolt, I sprang up, gathering myself. Amazingly, I didn’t feel injured at all, just a slight dizziness in the noggin. I stared up at the person talking to me, but then, what I saw completely flabbergasted me.

“Hey…WHAT?! Holy crap, you’re a…oh my God, what hit me in the head?”

“Slow down, take it easy there, fella!”

I sat there staring at the incredible sight that stood before me: a talking pony. I just crash landed in the universe of a 9-year-old girl…or I’m having a really bad, coma-induced dream, and this was my natural way of coping.

“Hey, have you seen my spaceship? Where’s Jonah? I need to repair it and then fly out of here, I gotta get home!”

“Ha, what in tarnation are you jammerin’ about? Spaceship?!”

She immediately fell flat on her back, laughing hysterically, as if what I said to her was a stand-up routine by Jeff Foxworthy. That’s the only comedian I could think of at the time; her voice was strictly ‘yee-hawish’.

I glanced to my right, and saw a puddle of water and my reflection in it. I was staring at a pony with a blonde mane and a red coat. He had solid, coal black eyes and an incredible set of straight, even teeth. Not crooked at all, that handsome devil!

I then inquired further about my current situation, seeing if this pony noticed anything out of the ordinary.

“Wait, you didn’t see a crash landing anywhere?”

“Nah! All I saw was you layin’ on the dirt, sprawled out like you was hit by a lightning bolt or somethin’ scary. Are you feelin’ ok, sugarcube?”

“Not at all! I’m a pony, why am I pony?! This isn’t RIGHT!”

My screams of protest were met with a throbbing sensation in my skull. Not good.

“Because you are one, sugarcube? What else would you be? A griffon? A dragon?”

“Ha! You make it sound like this is…normal…oh God! Why…” *faints*

“…wha? Where am I now?”

Having the urge to survey my new surroundings, turns out I was in a plain room with just the bed I’m napping in, a mahogany dresser with a lamp, and a clock with a cranking alarm. The window next to the bed was cracked open to let a light breeze into the room. Wanting to know more, I climbed out of bed and stood on the floor, quivering as I tried to maintain my balance.

Looking outside the window of the guest room, I saw a vast apple orchard that probably spanned for miles every direction. A mightily-sized barn sat adjacent to the cottage I was resting in, probably containing all the equipment necessary to harvest the apples. Piles of hay were dispersed throughout the yard, so she likely did some milking on the side for their personal supply of milk and dairy.

The same orange pony from the path outside opened the door, checking in on me.

“Goodness, you gave us quite a fright there, fella! You feelin’ ok?”

“Yeah, just a bit groggy. This is unbelievable though…I won’t get used to this-“

*thud*

“Wow, you must still be tired, sir! Get back into the bed, ya hear?”

“But I’m not tired! I just fell down, and I can’t walk properly. What is this…”

I attempt to stand up, which was probably the most arduous task I’ve had to perform this entire journey. As I began to stand up, all the memories with Jonah flooded back to me, giving me the willpower to stand up and face my heroine. She kept urging me to take small steps toward the bed. My lack of coordination granted me the pleasure of introducing my face to the floor dozens of times.

After resting for a while, I rolled myself out of bed, and stared outside for about 8 minutes, watching the sunset. During that time, I thought about what became of Jonah and the spacecraft. Did Jonah and the ship survive the initial landing? And…!

Something had just occurred to me: wasn’t it strange that the orange pony laughed at my crash landing tale? Why was I so distant from the crash site? What, or WHO, placed me so far away from there, that from what I could surmise, nobody even knew that a metal lunch box descended from the clouds?

I heard the rumble of chatter downstairs, and caught the entrancing aroma of hot apple cider and apple pie. Something about that smell permitted my legs to rhythmically trot towards the staircase, but no farther. The 14 steps that loomed before my hooves mocked me, coaxing me to take the initial step towards my imminent doom.

A petit, yellow pony trotted to the bottom of the stairs, and called out to me.

“Hey there, our most honored guest! Come on down here, sir!”

She said this in the cutest, most nasally way possible. How could I say no to her request? Oh, well, there is the staircase, the only thing standing between me and delicious apple goodness.

Carefully making my way down the stairs, while keeping my natural, equestrian stride was the most awkward thing I’ve ever had to accomplish. One hoof forward, back opposite hoof up, alternate, switch hooves, repeat. Why could I do it so perfectly a minute ago? Nevertheless, natural instinct took over for once, and no falls! Basking in the glow of my accomplishment, I fist-pumped my way to the dinner table, and relaxed in a seated position, the only pseudo-human thing I’ve done all day.

Sitting around the table, clockwise, was the petit, yellow pony that called me down, a lean-muscled red pony with a heavy yoke around his chest, the orange pony who found me on the side of the path leading to their home, and a wrinkled, elderly green pony staring at me, grinning from ear to ear as though I were a long-lost friend who just surprised her with a visit.

“’Ello, young’un! How are yeh feelin’, son? The name’s Granny Smith, but you can call me…uh, whazat the kids like to call me, Applebloom?”

The elderly pony, Granny Smith, addressed the petit one sitting next to me.

“Don’t they just call ya Granny Smith…Granny Smith?”

“Oh, yea! Just call me Granny Smith, son!”

The red pony looked towards me and addressed me next.

“I’m Big Macintosh. Just call me Big Mac, eeyup!”

Finally, the orange pony who ransomed me from my dirt nap introduced herself.

“And I’m Applejack! Pleasure tuh have ya as our guest!”

The entire family beckoned me to try everything on the table. Befitting of the nature of this place, apple desserts commanded the whole army of plates across the table. Leading the charge was that scrumptious apple pie I caught a whiff of upstairs, and scattered about the battlefield were various apple-based confections: a pile of apple fritters, a pitcher of hot apple cider, a strange bowl if rainbow-colored apples (could have sworn I saw static electricity spark the bowl), three towers of cinnamon apple pretzels, and far too many caramel apples to count.

After the taste testing ended, Applejack gave me a pondering look, and began to question me.

“So, what’s yer name? You know ours, what do we call ya?”

“…I’m Tom.”

Applebloom chuckled a bit, and I wondered what was so funny. “Haven’t you ever heard that name before? I think Applebloom is a pretty ridiculous sounding name.”

The little filly suddenly teared up, something that even the strongest boned person would instantaneously melt seeing the sight.

“I’m sorry! It was a gut comment, I take it back.”

Applejack quickly rectified the situation. “No need to apologize. Applebloom! Stop laughing at our guest, ya hear?!”

“Sorry, sis! He just haaaas a funny name is all!”

“Anyways, so ‘Tom’, you were tellin’ me about finding a ‘spacecraft’. What’s that all about? You seemed real serious when you told me. Be honest with us.”

The whole family raised their eyebrows, and gave me an inquisitive stare. The question Applejack just asked would be terribly difficult to answer, much less convince them that what happened to me was the truth. How was I going to explain to simple ponies about a complex series of events that got me here in the first place?

Would they even believe anything I say…