Through Fire
The ship was gold.
The ship was also fire, and ice, and love, and friendship, and courage, and a thousand other things, but although they could not come up with a name they could all agree on, gold was obvious. The giant spaceship rising into the sky above Equestria on a pillar of flame and smoke was hope given physical form, a desperate gamble, a second fling of the cosmic dice with the forlorn wish of all involved that the sacrifice of their beloved Princess of the Sun would not demand a similar sacrifice for her safe return.
If she could be returned.
Although the golden ship was fire as it ascended, the metal walls inside were slick with ice, and liquids colder than pony imagination coursed through metal arteries and veins. Bundled in their insulated suits, ponies and yaks and griffons and all other races hunched over their machines and gauges, watching for the slightest imperfections. In the very core of the golden vessel, floating in a pool of liquid air, the Princess of the Moon held the shadow of her domain across the ship’s protective surface of glistening gold. She was the first to call for the ship to be constructed, first to reach out to all of the races of Equestria with her desperate plea, and first to board, lowering her body into the liquid pool with her eyes closed and her heart open to all who trusted her moon’s protection on their dangerous journey.
Where they were going, even that promise would not be enough.
On the bridge, brother and sister sat together in silence, one to raise his magical shield around the ship when they approached their destination, and one to bend over her intricate calculations, measuring and estimating, because locating their elusive destination made finding a needle in a haystack a near certainty by comparison.
Below them, as the glitter of gold vanished into the darkness of space, the Princess of Love continued to watch with her foal under one wing. If this gamble failed, she would lose both friends and family, but she refused to shed a tear, for true love was a beacon, and if her family and friends survived their mission, she would be the light they would follow to return. With or without the only mare she dared think of as mother.
Onward the golden vessel flew, growing closer to the sun’s warming rays while the crew of mismatched creatures drew together over their practiced tasks. Changelings chittered as their crystalline forms of ice began to shimmer with heat, scuttling around the workponies who brought new cooling devices into action. Yaks bulking in their insulated suits shoved against massive valves to let liquid air circulate through the mechanical veins of the ship, blast into vapor against the sun-warmed hull, and crush back into liquid again.
And still the sun grew closer, until even the crew in the interior spaces could feel the warmth against the walls, and the howling of the fire outside filtered around the constant rumble of the pumps that kept them all alive.
There had been enemies among their numbers at one time, changeling queen and broken-horned unicorn, flamboyant performer and fanatic equalist, even diminutive young pegasus and failed unicorn student. There were no enemies now, or at least until their mission was complete. They each held their own personal reason for contributing to the mission, whether to assuage their own guilt, complete a long journey of redemption, or merely the vengeful fury of refusing to allow some other force of the cosmos to destroy the Princess of the Sun before they could. Something far greater drew them all together now, something several of them would rather die than admit even while the ship’s supporting girders groaned with the strain and the lash of fire on the softening hull grew more powerful.
The roar of vaporizing gas was deafening, muted only slightly as a shield formed around the ship. Powerful enough to cover a city, it was a trivial thing to the power of the sun, but sufficient for the bubbling of the golden hull to cease.
And still the frail golden vessel descended.
Vast tongues of fire arced away from the sun’s surface, each of them powerful enough to not only wipe out the ship with only a tiny fraction of their power, but their homeworld also. At the helm, a pegasus with unsurpassed skills drove the ship between those deadly jets of plasma and death. This was not the time for flamboyant maneuvers, because a single crash would destroy them all. Habits drilled into her head by her fellow Wonderbolts ruled the maze of death, allowing them to draw even closer to their unseen destination.
And then…
The gods of the sky are jealous of their powers. Chaos had offered his assistance in their mission by removing himself to a place far away, but even his absence did not prevent misfortune. All it took was a failed sensor, a moment of distraction, the overconfidence of a plan going as it should. The tip of a tongue of fire licked against the ship, piercing the shield of love and shadow as if it were tissue paper. The golden skin of the ship did not simply melt, it turned to vapor in a long stripe, exposing the ice inside and sending creatures tumbling out into the burning void as the frozen atmosphere vented.
The disaster happened too fast for anypony to stop, but the falling crew were grabbed by both unicorn spells and the stabbing tentacles of the changeling queen, who ripped her protective suit to ribbons in order to snag the screaming crewmembers before they too exploded into molten vapor. The entire ship shuddered with the impact, resonating to the cries of the injured and the terrible rending of the vessel’s golden skin.
Without hesitation, the remaining crew flung themselves into action while the engines spluttered and died. Kirin and dragons working together heaved spare panels of gold into place, straight into the excruciating heat of the sun without regard for their own safety. Even though both races possessed a legendary resistance to fire, the scouring plasma of the sun was no mere flame. Burnished scales and blazing hide charred under the brief exposure where their protective suits failed, and even though the ship resounded with their screams of pain, not one creature faltered in their duty.
The protective bulwark of their sacrifice allowed the rest of the crew to surge forward, horns blazing with magic in order to make the most of the scant time they had been given. Changelings and unicorns welded and strapped the patches into place, using their spells to fuse the ship’s golden skin until no gaps remained in their armor against the deadly storm of plasma raging outside.
While the crew fought to save the wounded ship, others gathered the scorched and burnt casualties as fast as possible, and stuffed them into pods filled with changeling goo. Even the cursing changeling queen, shedding burnt chitin and frostbitten flesh in equal chunks, was forced into a hibernation pod of her own, and the prince of yaks stood guard over the entrance to make sure she remained inside.
Their lives were safe, but only for the moment. For flesh and hide would take far longer to heal than the skin of the ship, which was rapidly buttressed and braced against a second blow. Ponies skidding in the puddles of melting ice worked hard as they could to make the engine function again, heaving open crates of spare parts and cutting away damaged equipment. At the head of them all, a pony most known for growing apples brought her mismatched team together, focusing their efforts where they would do the most good and praying that their efforts would not be in vain.
The ship fell deeper into the fire. Down and down, through the streamers of lashing plasma and into the crushing embrace of the sun.
With splutters and pops of thrust, the golden ship sluggishly dodged its way through the swirling maelstrom. Where chance had scored a bubbling scar against its fragile hide, chance now cradled the vessel in good fortune, although the pilot would be first to take credit for her intent use of every spark and pop from the wavering engines.
One patched and repaired circuit at a time, the crew fought their replacement parts into the charred spaces carved into the vulnerable guts of the golden ship. One small bit after another, their race against time was won, and the powerful engine of the ship was again made whole. With that victory came welcome thrust, spitting out in fits and starts until the roar of power once again pressed the crew against the decks, and a ragged cheer swept through the ship. Battered but not beaten, with crew still patching the last of the bubbling gash in the hull and one frantic seamstress patching the lifesaving suits of the injured crew, the ship resumed its descent.
Through some fluke, there was an upwelling from the sun’s burning core that made a temporary sanctuary of their course, hotter than ever before but at least without having to endure the lash of energetic plasma arcs. They had barely begun to descend into the hellish heat when another cry rang out from the isolated and filtered observer station, barely loud enough to be heard.
It was her.
Buoyed aloft on the upwelling of solar plasma, the Princess of the Sun floated limply in the embrace of her beloved celestial body. It was too early for celebration. The ship still needed to descend even closer to the heat that threatened to turn them all into a simple puff of vapor, and even if they were able to reach her, it was possible that the tragic sacrifice that Celestia had offered to reignite her failing sun had been fatal.
Every member of the crew bent to their tasks with renewed vigor, trying not to think of the unthinkable. The support members of the ship groaned with stress while the engines roared defiance against the crushing forces of gravity and turbulent plasma. The theoretical limits of the vessel had been surpassed some time ago, and the only thing holding it together was the dogged determination of the crew and a complete disregard for the laws of physics. Ever so carefully, the ship maneuvered closer and closer to the limp form. The motions they could see might have just been from the flow of plasma keeping her suspended, or they could be a spark of life. Further down they descended until the pilot could go no deeper into the hungry fire because of the certainty of their destruction. Engines howled at the end of their power gauges, the golden skin of the ship was shimmering and vaporizing at a dangerous rate, and even another few lengths into the plasma upwelling would have been fatal.
Equilibrium.
Even this eventuality had been planned for. Moving at a near blur, the mission specialist unlocked the grapple, flipping switches and moving knobs faster than any mortal pony had a right to, and a gripping metal claw descended from the belly of the ship. More carefully now, she took out her lucky bit and inserted it into the slot of the controls. There could be only one attempt at this prize, and the claw descended into the swirling plasma below with inevitable steadiness.
Enchanted steel links from the depths of Tartarus glowed white-hot, but refused to bend or warp as the mare manipulated the joystick, dropping the claw closer to their target, then with infinite delicacy, she touched the red button.
And the claw closed.
Every member of the crew held their breath as the chain clattered up, wound back into the belly of the ship far slower than any of their nerves could stand. And at the end of that chain hung their goal, an alicorn so radiant with light that it was impossible to see just how well the claw was holding her until it finished its ascent, and the golden doors swung closed.
A joyous cry came from the medical pony peering through the window into the insulated chamber, a declaration that the Princess of the Sun survived, but too weak to move and far too hot to approach.
Only then did the crew let out a brief cheer.
But their mission was not over. The sun is a greedy creature, and was not about to give up ownership of its prize so easily. The engines of the unnamed ship shrieked as loud as they could, with the throttle controls pressed against the stops so hard they bent. Despite every effort, the ship remained firmly in place while the golden hull continued to ablate in a haze of vaporized metal.
Then the Alicorn of Friendship lifted her head from the calculations that had guided their path to this point. There could be no greater friendship than coming together with others who shared your goals, no matter how different they were, no matter the risk. Voluntarily submitting themselves to the cleansing fire and forged in those flames, the crew had become something more than ever before. Something wonderful. Something that would transcend the ages, and become an example to all who came after.
And that friendship… became magic.
Great golden wings spread from the ship, vast expanses of shimmering feathers that caught the solar wind and swept them up. No mere slog to escape the sun’s immense gravity ensued, but the soaring of joy and the power of harmony.
There may have also been a Solar Rainboom. Although the pilot took credit.
On a trail of molten gold and rainbow light, the unnamed ship soared into the frozen void between worlds, following a beacon of love to guide them all home.
In the years to come, many histories of this event were written, most reflecting favorably on the writer’s viewpoint. In some, the pilot of the great ship was a griffon, or the operator of the crane a yak. Still, they all reflected the great joy celebrated by all of the races of Equestria for the return of their beloved Celestia, and the reuniting of the Royal Sisters. Again.
And although the great ship launched without a name, every creature within, even the fierce changeling queen from her cocoon, agreed on a name by the time the battered and ragged craft returned from its one and only flight. Even today, the glittering vessel sits upon a place of honor, in a Canterlot park where every visitor of whatever Equestrian race or beyond knows its story. Families gather to reminisce as older members tell the tales of their own ancestors, driven by love and friendship and family to do what no creature thought possible. They take photographs and touch the golden skin of the ship, worn to paper-thin in places and with the warped patches still visible, but they all eventually gather at the plaque by the crumpled tail where the ship landed after its epic journey.
Here we give thanks to those brave heroes
who challenged the impossible to bring back
our Sun and Moon
On this day, we dedicate this memorial to their memory
so that all of the world knows what can be accomplished
with true friendship
The Prometheus
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First comment for the author. Publishing this before getting set to head cross-country to Bronycon 2019, which involves just about as much heat.
The Golden Apples of the Sun is from "The Song of Wandering Aengus" by W.B. Yates in 1899 (No, I wasn't around to read the original. Shut up.)
No, I’m not quite sure what he meant either. I guess I don’t have the heart of a poet. (although I do have an empty jar on my desk in case I find one)
This brings us to the Ray Bradbury story Golden Apples of the Sun (text at the link), which was published ten years before I was born, so chill. I read it a few times while growing up, and like the 'feel' of it, so when I fell in with you lot of scroungy creatures, I had the idea in the back of my head to do something like it. The Writeoff entry over here is what happened after that final poke pushed me off the ledge.
Now although I love Bradbury, and the story is inspired by him, I did not and probably could not follow his style. Something in the back of my head (probably too many years in science classes) refuses to squarely believe a robot hand with a cup scooping up a bit of the sun's surface, and the dialogue in the story keeps jarring me out of that happy fog of belief. Oh, I'll still read them until the covers fall off. I just can't write that way. (Which is fine, because I write like Georg)
Enjoy! And don't forget to wear sunscreen and stay hydrated. It's hot out there.
I've always loved the optimism and minimalism of Bradbury-era short science fiction stories. Great job on this one, really enjoyed it.
It's been a long time since I read any of them. I think I'll go have a dig in my bookcase
This is spectacular and moving. Bravo, good sir.
The Prometheus, that is a quite fitting name for a vessel to undertake such a mission.
I find I cannot conjure up the words that adequately express my awe of this story. Another masterpiece from the master.
Um... wow.
Okay, crying over here. That was wonderful. And I'm a sucker for everyone coming together to do the impossible and risking everything for the chance to do the right thing.
Reminds me of a few other stories with a similar premise:
noticingpaying attention.”Bradbury wasn't an SF writer who occasionally drifted into fantasy, he was a fantasy writer who committed SF.
A lovely tribute to a poetic classic of a tale, and to the various races of Equestria. May they soar higher than Changeling Space Programs.
Double +1 just for the reference to Bradbury, and for an excellent Pony take on the original!
Prometheus gave fire to Man and suffered a eternity of torment for the act. It is only right that fire be brought to the Heavens again in thanks.
sweet
Ohhh.... this was touching.
Stop touching me Georg!
Hmm, while the premise is mechanically decent, the story in itself is a bit too minimalist for my taste, along with there being simultaneously too much and not enough prose. I honestly feel like the story of how and why this happened would be more interesting, though that could potentially be me just needing more context.
Of course she would insist on making it a crane game.
9755203
Hooray for mythology and references!
Hmm. I wonder if I can recreate this in Kerbal Space Program. It'll be pretty hard: changing the apsides to go that close to Kerbol will require a lot of energy, though thankfully I won't have to deal with solar activity or vengeful deities.
The Kraken might get me, though.
Go beyond, yes?
Damn you and you army of onion cutting ninjas
But seriously, gorgeous writing here. Right in the feels
I like this story very much, but now want to know the forstory (?). What happened?
The Golden Apples of the Sun is one of my all-time favorite Bradbury stories, so I love what you have done here, complete with all the Equestrian flavor. Well done!
Why didn't they name it pre-launch?
A ship that stole fire from the gods. Definitely appropriate. Lovely job, Georg, and congrats in the placement in the contest!
The engineers had balked at the idea of a coin-operated anything on the ship, but she had insisted.
In all seriousness, magnificent work. Suitably epic in scope for such a mission. Thank you for it.
9755769
Because they couldn't agree on one before the launch.
Strangely poetic and beautiful.
At first I thought the name would be _Apollo_, for moving the Sun back into its proper place, but the Greek myth you chose works too.
I remain in awe of authors who write stories like this for simple reasons.
Im simple, and like to try and work out how to do it with what I know.
I know water remains solid at solar surface temperatures if compressed to several million bar.
The biggest chunk of ice designed by man was the Habbakuk.
The NIF pulse fusion reactor can be made workable using a million Toyota laser sparkplugs.
MITs Optical Lattice can be used to duplicate EE Doc Smiths Wall Shield.
High frequency energy injection into plasmas have been used to clean wonds by cooling the plasma to 35 Celcius.
Plus many other demonstrated technologies.
But.
Wheres the story in that.
Noone likes just being given the answers. So what if its someones Cutie Mark?
They did what they could, with what they were given. And Succeeded.
9755361
Okay, get ready to match our velocities with the retro thrusters and get ready to party!
Specialist Pie! It's not possible!
No... It's necessary.
9755541
Plus Harmony
9755289
Yeah, while it's fine, I would appreciate a bit more backstory as well.
Abstract and thrilling. Nicely done
Very nicely done. I liked the concept of how Celestia was so beloved that her subjects would not abandon her if there was any chance of rescuing her.
A lot happened in just over 2000 words. This is how you short story people.
9755657
Everypony loves summer. Foals have more time to play, farmers have more time to work, and few things are as relaxing as sipping a cool, refreshing beverage on a pleasant summer's evening. Heat waves, however, are another thing entirely: it is too hot to play or work, and when the longer days have finally ceded to evening the air remains too uncomfortable for sleep.
On the first day, there were idle complaints. On the second, there was serious grumbling. On the third, accusations began. At first the weather ponies were blamed for providing no clouds, but they said they could not: Cloudsdale had no water. The town that was supposed to have provided it was blamed, but they had none to give: there was a drought. The farmers were at fault, they used too much! No, the pegasi were: they brought us no rain! Don't start that again, they yelled, we can't give you rain without water! By the fifth day, discord (the noun, not the draconequus) was thick throughout Equestria.
On the sixth day, somepony looked up.
On the seventh day a sweaty mob arrived at Night Court, dripping on the too-warm stones as they made their case to Princess Luna. She heard them, then, without comment, gestured them out. Advisors were consulted. Laws and decrees examined. Historical texts pored over. There were no historical precedents for such a case, save one.
Luna considered the pleas of the mob, and the words of the advisors, both for and against. There were many possible things for her to say, but in the end, she spoke from her heart.
"Payback's a bitch, sister."
And Celestia was gone.
9758813
I just wanted to add, in addition to my other comment, that by far my favorite part of this was that the entire mission hinged on a pony whose special talent... is claw machines.
I was laughing about that hours later. Like, "PEOPLE THINK YOUR TALENT IS USELESS? WELL GUESS WHAT YOU JUST USED IT TO SAVE THE PRINCESS OF THE SUN WHO IS LAUGHING NOW" Beautiful. I need a description of this heroic pony so I can properly visualize her in all her underrated talent cutie mark glory.
I vaguely remember reading that Ray Bradbury story as a teenager and finding it quite gripping and atmospheric, but at the same time thinking: What is this? This makes no sense! This isn't proper science!
You have beautifully recreated the scene with ponies.
9759256
I take no responsibility for what comes out of my mind when distressingly sleep-deprived. I'm just as much a victim as you.
9759507
Realistically the claw would've let go halfway up, and everycreature would be sweating and holding the ship together for another twenty minutes while the mission specialist kept feeding in tokens.
9758813 Well, How Many Princesses Does It Take shows what happens when the bulb burns out. I should write something where...
Luna looked up at the inert dark orb floating over the horizon, then over at her sister. "Well??"
Celestia let out a long breath. "The pilot light went out again. We should have bought the extended warranty."
"Or bought an electric one," chided Luna. "And I thought I was behind the times. And hurry back!" she called out as Celestia flapped up into the sky with a wooden match clutched in her teeth. "I swear, if you bake in there like a sauna too long, I'm going to made a giant golden ship and drag you back!"
Luna watched until her sister vanished into the sky, and her irritated expression slowly transitioned into one of contemplation. "Hmmm... It would teach her a lesson. And I've always wanted to fly a ship."
9760165
Naw naw, she is clearly the pony equivalent of that dude who made the news like a year ago because he is so good at claw machines he can empty the things out.
Why didn't they make the hull out of the 'enchanted steel from Tartarus' that they used for the chain, or whatever they used for the claw? Why not use magic to grab Celestia instead of a claw on a chain being buffeted about by solar material, since Shining Armor's magic worked in that environment?
Goddamit quit making me cry!
9765954 Hi, I'm Georg. You must not know me very well.
9759895 The fun thing is I couldn't do it *without* ponies. Almost literally no other developed world would work for this angle.
While you may have been gearing towards Bradbury, both the style and the repetition of a golden ship made the connection more with Cordwainer Smith… "Golden the ship was – Oh! Oh! Oh!"
9767940
I would love to see some ponified Cordwainer Smith so much, but I don't think anyone can do it right. I know that I sure as heck couldn't, which is why I haven't even tried... but oh Celestia, how tempting the idea is. The Pony Who Bought Old Canterlot?
9767940 9789987 I so want to see more stories in Cordwainer Smith's style, too! I have seen him ponified once, in a short vignette which invites a longer story we'll probably never get: "Voyage of the Harmony".
9848180
Thank you for bringing that to my attention!
This was lovely! A short story the likes of which we might find in old sci-fi magazines. Optimistic and dramatic, with a neat little choice not to name anyone and leave it to us to know who they are.
Stories of Celestia making great sacrifice have my attention (having written like 6 of them myself >_>), but for there to be a happy ending after such a sacrifice, returned with love from those she saved, made for a beautiful story. Thank you for writing.
That’s one small step for a pony, one giant leap for friendship.
Really cool, self-contained sci-fi adventure! Love how much character development and world building you managed to do in such a short word count.