"Captain, this is Command, please run a diagnostics check and send it back to us for comparison."

"Roger that, Command, running diagnostic now and eager to go," was the enthusiastic, yet tempered, response to the stallion's message.

There was a laugh on the other side that was almost drowned out by the sounds of electric instruments and tape reels. "You've been raring to go since day one, Captain Andromeda."

"Please," the blue mare with a pink mane stuffed inside her bubble helmet said with an almost goofy chuckle, "that's Space Captain Andromeda to you, Dr. Comet."

The war with the zebras not going so well. Of course, the very idea of war made anypony feel unwell; perhaps even the zebras shared the sentiment. But greed was the root of all sins, and both sides had something the other wanted, but neither side was willing to show weakness. Littlehorn was the final nail in the coffin, a misunderstanding that the media on both sides twisted and skewed just to sell more newspapers. Perhaps they didn't realize what would happen. Very few knew the actual truth. But even then it could have been worked out, until zebras took things a step too far, massacring everypony at Luna's academy, from the oldest teacher, to the youngest foal.

Things only escalated from there. The Ministry of Morale started an almost inquisitorial search for spies and traitors. The Ministry of Magic was developing spells and enchantments for spies and soldiers. The Ministry of Technology began creation of bigger and better weapons and armor. The Ministry of Image was producing the propaganda and ensuring soldiers kept in style. The Ministry of Awesome... who knew what they were doing. The Ministry of Peace was unwittingly devising the megaspells that would be their doom. And they were, all of them, better on paper.

Not quite near the middle of the war and not quite at the end, they all came together to discuss the most frustrating aspect of the whole war. The zebras, with their archaic magic potions and mystical prowess, could copy just about everything the ponies threw at them. Land, air, and sea, there seemed to be nothing they couldn't do. The solution took nearly a week to arrive at, even after being suggested by the Minister of Morale a few times and been left ignored. The one place no zebra could reach. Space: the final answer.

With a budget the size of Equestria, and the most brilliant minds of the time (although it took a while to convince them it wasn't a joke), they began the most daring feat of engineering the world would never seen.

They couldn't afford alerting the zebras to this project, which meant that they only had one shot. No test launches, no retries, no bringing in independent companies, no telling friends or family, and absolutely no mistakes. It would have the best materials, the best controls, the simplest controls, the most advanced mainframe, the best enchantments the Ministry of Magic had to offer, the longest ranged radio ever made, the most precision-based weapons, and a pilot who was competent enough to follow directions without any hiccups. The test to become the pilot involved a questionnaire and puzzle contest on the back of a cereal box.

Mercy Andromeda sat at her kitchen table, eating Ministry of Morale approved Chocolate-Coated Sugar-Bombs. She liked to dim the lights and watch as the cereal glowed when she poured in milk. But today, if the ungodly hours she woke up at could really be considered days (she hated waiting for the sun to come up), she left the lights on as she went over the little game on the back of the box.

Sure, maybe they were for foals, but ever since she was a filly no pony could keep her from little games and childish delights. Even now, as a full grown mare, she would cosplay as numerous different figures from her favorite fictions. Thankfully, she kept herself indoors when she did this, which was the only reason her neighbors still talked to her. Her favorite games of pretend always involved outer space. Whether she was the heroic heroine or the damsel in distress, it didn't matter. Just to think about space was enough to lull her into a state of trance-like serenity.

Unfortunately, that was how she lost her first job.

That day, the back of the box was extremely fascinating. It was all about space, with little games involving how to control spaceships, which she had to make some corrections on with a sharpie. It was unbelievable what would get past quality control these days; the questions were simple enough as well.

"How much would I weigh in space?" She looked at the box as though it had just called her stupid. With an almost contemptible sigh, she answered it, talking all the while. "Absolutely nothing. In fact, the only way for you to weigh something would be to create centrifugal force, a magic field, or use magnets to hold you down, in fact that would help keep your body from atro... oops. I really should stop writing everything I say."

By the time she was done, the back of the cereal box was almost completely black with lengthy answers and corrections. She smiled and laughed at it in good humor. "That was fun, they should make more of these." Her eyes retraced the answers scrawled across the box, brow furrowed as she considered their accuracy a second time. She was just finished checking the fallacies of an air vent in outer space when she noticed a block of text she had not read before. Written in small print near the bottom of the box was a contest announcement.

Are you a space cadet? Do you have what it takes to battle Maretians and little green stallions? Then complete all seven boxes with a chance to win a toy Space Mareine Bolter with blinking red light. Participants must turn in all seven at once, completed with pen or marker and mail to P.O. Box 40,000, at Katipos Way, Pranceylvania, 62141.

In less than an hour, she'd been to the grocery store and back with the over six boxes. It was more a matter of principle to her than anything else. She didn't really care about the prize, she just wanted to let the company know that they were making some mistakes with what she considered a serious subject. Besides, she already had a Space Mareine Bolter, made of PVC and metal, and could shoot little balls of aluminum foil. She made quick, if rather profuse, work of it all and mailed it off before the sun rose. Those nice mail workers even opened early for her.

Three weeks later, she found herself sitting hoof-cuffed to a table, staring across at the Ministry Mares.

"Are those really necessary?" Fluttershy asked quietly as she looked at the metal cuffs.

The guard, a green and yellow stallion who was sporting a recent hoof-shaped bruise on his face, nodded. "Yes, ma'am, she put up quite a fight. Shoutin' about how the Ministry of Morale made a mistake, or something or other."

Pinkie Pie facehoofed and sighed. "I gotta tone it down."

Twilight Sparkle gave the pink mare a glance, looking at a bulge in her pocket. "That's not all you have to tone down," she muttered. If Pinkie heard her, she didn't show it.

"You really should relax, Andromeda, dear," Rarity said in a soothing tone as she looked past her curled locks. "No need to get such a fine figure in a wreck."

Knowing that they knew her name made her even more nervous. She sobbed loudly, pleading for mercy and admitting to crimes that would make an eight-year-old roll her eyes. This carried on until Fluttershy came over and gave her a soft embrace.

"There, there," she said in her soothing, buttery voice. "There's no need to be frightened, you're not in trouble. In fact, we need you for a very special..."

"Then why am I restrained?" Andromeda demanded, then cringed when she saw the stallion huff point at the bruise on his face. "I-I suppose I brought it upon myself. I apologize... f-for your face... er, that is... oooh, I'm digging my own grave."

"No one's digging your grave," Rainbow Dash said, stifling a chuckle. "More like a tomb with your own monument." It sounded better in her head than in actual words.

Twilight sighed and rubbed her horn in exasperation. "What Rainbow Dash means, is that you're here for something incredibly special."

"Special," Andromeda sniffed, wiping her eyes with her hock.

Fluttershy patted her on the head and went back to her seat. "Oh, yes. We have an idea that's right up your alley. You passed our test with flying colors. You're going to do something very special... if you don't mind, that is."

"Tell us, sugarcube," Applejack said, leaning forward and tilting her Stetson back. "Do you remember taking a little test a while ago?"

It took several explanation before Andromeda's stunned brain could remember the cereal box games and quizzes. She found out later that she came in second, and the only reason she was chosen was because the Ministries and Princess Luna didn't feel it a good idea to send up a six-year-old colt. After a brief fainting spell from hearing that she was going to be the first -- "Second," Rainbow Dash reminded her, earning an elbow in the side from Twilight -- she quickly agreed to the project and accepted all benefits and rewards that came with it.

She eyed the check Rarity had levitated in front of her with a wide-open mouth. "That's a lot of zeroes. I could live rather comfortably for the rest of my natural born life."

Rarity chuckled in amusement. "Oh, no need for being comfortable. Enjoy paradise, dear. It's an absolute wage, after all."

"A what?"

"It means, Andromeda, or, that is, Captain Andromeda," Rarity began as she tucked the check in her saddlebags for later deposit, "That no matter how much you use, at the end of the year, we'll simply level it back off. Splurge and enjoy a life grander than royalty."

"All for dropping bombs on a bunch of zebras?" Andromeda felt her legs wobble in both astonishment and illness. "Speaking of that, I know we're at war with them and all, but..."

"But it jes' don't feel right," Applejack finished for her. Andromeda nodded, and looked at the floor. Applejack smiled at the still lingering innocence of the young mare. "This project ain't about killin', Mercy. It's about showin' those varmints we can kill 'em if'n we want to. Even if'n they did kill my brother, Lord rest his soul, I wouldn't feel right to be a part of an all out massacre. We'll show them we're prepared for 'em, and that we're better'n 'em. They may 'ave killed whole mess o' our young'uns, but we'll jes' drop a few bomb near their cities here and yonder. That oughta be enough to scare them inta signin' a peace treaty."

"So, not on anypony, jes', er, just near them? To scare them?" Andromeda asked, hoping she heard her right. Applejack nodded. It felt good hearing that from the Element of Honesty herself. "So what am I supposed to do exactly?"

"We get you fitted for your suit, Captain Andromeda," Rarity said with whimsical a smile on her face.

Andromeda grew a smile of her own. She cleared her throat and proclaimed boldly, "That's Space Captain Andromeda, my dear Ministry Mare." That earned her a few laughs.

The spaceship itself may have been a grand piece of engineering, but the space suit rivaled it in almost every way. Containing dozens of talismans for self-repair and medical administration, along with digital magic matrixes that allowed her to levitate objects with tiny magical cubes. Not unlike the suits made for Canterlot foals in case of megaspell bombs, but more advanced and costlier, with multiple padded layers of fabrics and enchantments. Then there were the microscopic talismans implanted directly into her body, three of which were inserted into her brain.

"I'm a unicorn already, do I really need the technology to levitate objects?" Andromeda asked as she lay facedown on a padded table while a unicorn doctor slowly inserted a needle under the back of her skull to place the first of the three talismans. She was suddenly grateful for modern medicine and all it's painkillers.

Twilight stood nearby, taking notes and watching the process while casting an x-ray spell to guide the doctor's needle to its target. "Oh, yes. At best you can maybe carry several light objects. No offense."

"None taken," Andromeda said, attempting to shrug. The painkillers had paralyzed everything below her neck.

"This feature we put in the suit will boost that power exponentially, enough to carry a train car or two... five tops," Twilight said enthusiastically. "The talismans we're inserting now will allow you to control them almost as well as your own magic, maybe even better. The pegasus talismans in the shoes will let you walk on clouds, while the earth pony talismans spread throughout should grant you the strength of two earth pony stallions."

"Are those other two really necessary?"

Twilight nodded. "Of course. Who knows what's out there. Never know when you might need a few extra abilities."

"So, I'm like an alicorn in the suit?" Andromeda couldn't disguise the amazement in her voice.

"Uuuh, not exactly," Twilight admitted. "You wouldn't even be at a twentieth the strength of one, I'm afraid. Don't think we didn't try though."

"Why aren't our soldiers wearing these?" If they had this advanced of equipment, why hadn't they won the war already?

"Too expensive," Twilight said simply. "Just one almost made us spring for an automaton. We decided against that, because there would be too much room for error, and a pony has the ethical awareness we're going for. We're looking to end the war without a lot of dead civilians. If everything goes according to plan, it should be sunshine and rainbows."

"And if it doesn't?"

Twilight scowled. "We can't afford that."

Everything looks good on this end. We'll begin countdown in a few moments, I suggest you prepare yourself, Captain.

Six months of constant, hard training for extreme pressures and temperatures without the suit, and one week's rest, with a smattering of letters she was allowed to send her family to let them know she was alright, she was now ready to be the second mare in space. Though she felt her departure would be much cooler.

"I've been preparing myself for six months," Andromeda said with a sigh. "Couldn't we just skip the count down?"

"No."

She groaned, then looked around the interior of the rocket from her horizontal seat near the nose. Switches, buttons, view screens attached to sensitive telescopes for precision aiming, little lights, and it was all painted white. Twilight had said the color would make it easier for her to detect any problems, such as cracking or hull breaches. No matter how improbable it was that any such thing might happen, they still insisted on putting aboard several pints of a magical sealant made from reverse engineering zebra technology.

Then there was the storage closet, more of an armory, full of an assortment of sidearms and rifles stuffed into individual metal tubes to be launched from space to supply the Equestrian frontlines with advanced weapons just in case the zebras weren't too keen on surrendering early. Wouldn't they have to be insane not to surrender? Andromeda thought to herself. Then again, this whole war was insane.

Next, she looked down at her suit, still giddy with interest. White boots, a rust-red upper body, a fishbowl helmet with an antenna atop of it, and a pipbuck of Ministry creation on her right foreleg. She couldn't remember all it did, but it would have been enough to make even the most geeky ponies she knew turn green with envy. The best part about it was that it was connected directly to the mini mainframe attached to her helmet that would then project multiple displays on the glass with verbal or mental commands.

Her tail stuck out the back of the suit, Rarity's idea, and a vacuum seal was placed there to keep any harmful agents from seeping inside, or the emptiness of space sucking her out. It lowered the cost of the suit, and made it stylish at the same time. Not only all of that, but it was as comfortable as a cloud. Or so she was told.

"Alright, Captain Andromeda," the stallion's voice came back over the radio again. "We're ready now. All external diagnostics check out. Prepare yourself for countdown."

Andromeda totally didn't let out a shriek of schoolfilly glee. It was much too high pitched for that. She snuggled into her chair and braced herself, hooves gripping the leg rests tightly in anticipation.

"Ten... Nine..."

Her ears twitched. What could be rattling here?

"...Eight...

She still had a little bit of time, so she leaned over and peered back at the white interior. There didn't appear to be anything.

...Seven... Six... Five...

There was the rattling again. This time she was sure she heard it. She turned around and scanned the area, using the mental talismans to bring up the pipbuck displays. She would hate to be trapped with a rat aboard. Rarity had insisted on making the display color purple.

...Four... Three...

The display wasn't bringing up anything, and she didn't have all that much time. She shifted back into position and then held out her pipbuck to scan the area behind her while she faced forward and up at the sky.

...Two... One...

She saw it too late. A hoof materialized out of nowhere for a brief second. Even if everything was purple on her screen, she knew of only one group that used invisibility. Her scream came loud and clear over the radio as the spaceship began to climb.

"There's a zebra on board."

The zebra stallion threw off the invisibility cloak and looked up at the back of the mare's seat as the g-forces pushed his body against the floor. He had a small metal capsule strapped to his back, connected by a cord to a large metal hoop that he slipped a hoof through.

He yanked his hoof down and pulled the cord. Pink clouds oozed out of the capsule, filling the rocket to capacity amidst the mare's screams and alarmed shouting over the radio.

"Andromeda? Come in. Do you read me? Captain Mercy Andromeda?" Dr. Comet.

"What happened up there? Listen to me, Space Captain Andromeda," Twilight sang in chorus with Dr. Comet.

No matter how loudly they shouted, all that came back was static. They watched in despair as their greatest hope climbed higher and higher into the sky, until it was eventually lost to sight.