//------------------------------// // Chapter 14 // Story: The First Equestrian Starliner // by computerneek //------------------------------// “Wait.  Where’d that bubble thing go?” Twilight looks at the pegasus.  “Bubble thing?” They’d just performed that- what did he call it, ‘extravehicular switch’?  Luna’s bubble shield had lasted about as long as they expected- that is, the air in it had. She could probably have maintained the shield itself for much longer, had that not been an issue.  They’d made it all the way out, thanks to what Athena called a ‘high-speed ejection’ involving very fast motions of the doors. She’d missed exactly what had happened, but hasn’t had the opportunity to ask the ship to explain it. The…  very hot ship.  She hopes she hasn’t destroyed it- and that it remembers their path. The strange pegasus, one of the crew of the ship that came for them, nods.  “Yes. It looked like you were in a giant bubble of some sort on the way over here; where’d it go?” Twilight stares at her for a few seconds.  “Where’d it go…?” she parrots slowly. The pegasus sighs.  “Nevermind. Is everypony okay?” Her question is met by a round of nods. She blinks.  “Soo, the injuries I see are…?” “Old injuries, yes,” Twilight states, and shudders, glancing at the tip of her horn.  “Whatever you do, do not overheat a Distortion Drive.” Blink.  “Wait, what?  You had a Distortion Drive?  I thought those were still in the early testing stages- and liable to destroy the entire ship.” Twilight blinks.  “Uh, maybe? I mean, it got us to Princess Midnight’s world…”  She looks at the named princess, who raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. “Is it still working?” She shakes her head.  “I don’t think so- we did trigger the emergency shutdown.” Blink.  “Do you have the blueprints?” “Maybe?” She offers a level-lidded look. She sighs.  “We don’t have them with us, but the Athena might remember them.” Blink.  “That’s your ship, right?” Nod. “I take it you’re not the engineer.” Blink.  “No, but I’d love to learn.” Another sigh.  “I’m also gonna guess you’re not from Earth.” Blink.  “Uh, no, we’re from Equus.”  She glances at Midnight. “Never found out what her world was called.” “A headache,” Princess Midnight states.  “That world had a ninety-seven syllable name.  Everyo- pony just called it ‘the world’.” The pegasus blinks some more.  “Wait. You mean I’m in the presence of actual aliens from outer space, and you look just like ponies?” Twilight blinks.  “We are ponies.” Midnight nods.  “Yes, I believe so.”  She chuckles, an amused smile spreading across her face.  “I’m also pretty sure I’m the only one with any experience meeting extraterrestrials.” The pegasus’ eyes sparkle.  “Really? Can I ask who you met, how it went?” She shakes her head.  “Another very long name.  Some two hundred syllables, if I remember right- I never learned it.  We just called them, ‘them’.” She sighs. “They destroyed my world, killed my people.  It’s thanks only to Princess Twilight and her ship that there are any survivors at all.” The sparkle leaves her eyes while her excited smile fades to nothing.  “Oh… I’m sorry. Um…” She smiles apologetically, before turning back towards Twilight.  “Anyways, um… I notice you don’t have hands.” Twilight blinks.  “Hands?” she asks. Midnight smiles.  “Why would we?” she asks. She blinks.  “You don’t know?  Oh. Um, it’s an acronym, for Hoof-Attached Natural Digit Systems…”  She holds up one foreleg, showing off the metal device attached to it- including extending the fingers to demonstrate the gripping action.  “That’s this thing. You do have something similar, right?” Twilight blinks.  “Why would we?” “Uh, to grab something?  Maybe use the controls?” Twilight tilts her head.  “Why wouldn’t we just… well, grab it?” She offers another level-lidded look.  “You’re telling me you can just grab it with the flat surface of your hoof and magic?” Nod. “Really?” Twilight tilts her head.  “Yes. That’s how the hoofgrip works.” “Magic.” “Yes.” “We don’t have it.” “You don’t?” She shakes her head.  “It doesn’t exist here.  You’re going to want to hide it from the public, unless you want to be mobbed.” Blink.  “I don’t suppose that means we can’t fly, does it?” She shakes her head.  “We can’t fly- if you can, you won’t want to.” Two weeks pass.  Princess Midnight, while she has damaged doors or floors on occasion, seems to have adjusted to the no-magic restriction the fastest.  And these strange ‘hands’ things the local ponies gave them. Almost like she’d already been adjusted, as a matter of fact- she just…  lived.  Which, Twilight has to agree, if magic wasn’t part of her education, she would be like that. The rest of her crew has had difficulty- including herself.  Multiple times, she’s had to pretend the hornache from trying to use magic is a migraine of some sort.  Pinkie had basically glued herself to Midnight’s side, and adapted very quickly; Applejack was the second-fastest to adjust. Rarity never removed her cloak.  The local’s medical science, apparently, wasn’t enough to heal the damage.  The unicorn still hasn’t adjusted fully; she’s been hiding out in the space center they’d been taken down to, trying to get the hang of using the ‘hands’ things instead of her horn. Rainbow fell down a few times, but has managed to adjust.  Fluttershy… She simply put on the ‘hands’ and headed outside, like adjustment wasn’t even an issue.  A rumor has sprung up of a pegasus that could fly, but that’s about it. Right now, Twilight is in the control room with Chief Emergency Engineer Cold Coils.  She’s been studying the engineering thing- and, to the chief engineer’s surprise, she’s already ready for field training. That is to say, ready to be in the control room with a regular engineer during some operations.  And, even, to help with them. She glances to the sides as she walks in, duplicating the older engineer’s immediately prior motion.  The room is empty. Cold Coils lets out a sigh.  “Looks just like it did when you appeared,” she states.  “Night crew didn’t bother to stick around. I wonder how many fresh disasters are going unchecked up there.”  She glances at the ceiling. Twilight also glances up, and looks at the controls.  “None quite like ours, I hope.” The pegasus lets out a snort of laughter.  “You’d be surprised. Sure, yours is the biggest ship we’ve ever seen, and we’ve never had one survive nuclear weapons cookoff before, but overheating is the most common problem we have.”  Sigh. “And they still won’t let us issue or require pilot’s licenses.  Did you know, I had a ship just last night- a private vessel- with a foal at the helm and the parents sleeping in the back?” Twilight blinks.  “How bad was it?” Sigh.  “At least the aforementioned foal understood the controls enough to get the thing into a semistable orbit before I made her go get her parents.  Had to displace a few other ships- and she did get somewhat dangerously close to yours in the process, creating a heat problem.  Nothing we couldn’t handle, but still.” She shakes her head. “Had I been able to get that poor filly safely off the ship, I would have left it on its original course.  It was going to fly straight through a couple of the radiator zones on your ship- and as I’m sure you know, even our heat-shielded probes melt there in seconds.” “Wow.  They probably would have been vaporized…  Very fast way to die.” “Probably painless, too.  We’ve got legal action against them instead, but they’ll probably get away with it; she did know how to fly the ship.  Oh- and it looks like the first controller is here.  Good morning, Swift Orbit!” The unicorn entering the room pauses in the door.  “Good morning, Cold Coils, and…?” He looks at the alicorn. She blinks.  “Uh, I’m Twilight Sparkle.  Good morning!” He raises an eyebrow.  “Twilight Sparkle? Like Captain Twilight?” A couple more blinks.  “Uh, yes? I think?” Cold Coils lets out a chuckle.  “Yes, that’s her. Twilight, this is Flight Controller Swift Orbit, the one that reached out to you shortly after your arrival in-system.”  She glances at the closed door behind him. “And the only dayshift flight controller that seems to understand the importance of punctuality.” He snorts.  “Low Trajectory called off today.  I’m the only one.” He trots towards his control panel.  “No nightshift again?” The pegasus nods.  “Yep. No emergencies, too.”  She sighs. “And on the busiest night of the year, as well.” He groans, deploying his ‘hands’ and punching at the keys.  “Don’t forget, it’s also the eave of the busiest day of the year.  Let’s find out how badly things have broken.” Twilight blinks.  “Maybe Athena could help?” He glances up at her.  “Athena? That’s your ship, right?” She nods.  “Yes. She’s also very helpful.” “Even though nopony is aboard?” Nod. “I’ll…  let you handle that.”  He waves at the other controller station.  “Frequency oh-niner-three-seven-two. You do know how to do that, right?” Cold Coils nods.  “Yep. She’s a very quick study- I made her study up on the traffic controllers as well before today’s visit.” He raises an eyebrow.  “Oh? Might be handy. Well, give it a shot- see how responsive a large hunk of overheated alloy can be.”  He glances at the control station. “At least, I assume it’s alloy.  I don’t think any pure metal could tolerate the temperatures you named.” Cold Coils snorts.  “Nor any alloy we know of, as a matter of fact.  Anyways, Captain Twilight, we’re wasting time. To the radio!” “Right, yes!  Um…” She trots towards the panel, glancing over the buttons.  She reaches out with her magic, to punch in the frequency- “Arrggh!”- and cringes in pain.  She’d forgotten about her horn… again. “You alright?” Cold Coils asks.  She can tell that Swift Orbit was asking the same thing- he cut off in the middle, though, being a fraction of a second later than Cold. She waves it off with a hoof.  “It’s just my horn,” she mutters, reaching up to feel the jagged break once again. Swift shudders visibly.  “I… I wish I could do something about it.  They’re pretty useless, but even attempting to break or remove them is considered inequine torture because it hurts so much, for so long.  I’m sorry.” She shudders.  “No, it’s… It’s alright.  I once knew a unicorn whose horn was broken in a monster attack…  Took her a few years to recover, but she managed to cope.” She eyes the jagged tip of her horn.  “I’ll manage.” Then she looks down at the control panel, remembering to use her ‘hands’ instead of her hooves in the knick of time. Moments later, while she punches up the named frequency, she sees his general IFF request go out- with the very first response coming in almost instantly from her ship, the Athena.  She’s not surprised, given what the ship has shown itself capable of. At his panel, he chuckles.  “You know, I probably should have expected that.  A ship that large and expensive won’t have spared many expenses.  I should have expected you’d have an automatic IFF responder on it.” “Huh?” He shrugs.  “Nopony bothers.  They’re expensive and labor-intensive to install, for a very, very small reduction in comms workloads- and, though spacecraft pilots never feel it themselves, a massive reduction in IFF query wait time.” She blinks.  “Huh. Alright then…”  She pushes her button. “Orbital Control to Alpha-Tango-Hotel-Echo-November-Alpha, do you copy, over?” The response is instant.  “Starship Athena to Orbital Control, Copy that, over.” “Wait,” Swift blinks.  “Did an empty ship just respond verbally?” She nods, and punches the button again.  “Alright. Do you have records of what happened overnight, over?” “Controlled information cannot be sent over an insecure channel, over.” He blinks.  “I suppose that makes sense.  These things aren’t capable of secured channels, though.”  He shudders. “Those things take enormous amounts of processing power, are intermittent, and tend to be unreliable.” She scowls at the control panel.  “Huh… Well, maybe she can help.” She punches the button.  “Can you secure the channel, over?” Silence reins for two seconds. “She won’t be able to,” Swift states. Cold Coils raises an eyebrow at him.  “Honestly,” she states, “with what we’ve seen of that ship, I wouldn’t be surprised if it could at least try.”  She lets out a chuckle. “Makes me curious how.” Then the control panel blinks.  Every light, every screen, everything goes out for a half-second, before coming back on again at exactly the same screen as it had before. “What the-?” Cold Coils asks, and looks towards Swift.  “Did we just experience a power fluctuation?” He scowls.  “Nope. I got an idiot ranting about fuel prices right now, and he wasn’t interrupted.” “Secure connection established.  Confirm Captain’s Request: Release external sensor data from the previous eighteen point three hours to Orbital Control?” The control room goes completely silent, save the constant squawking of Swift’s headset. “Uh, what?” Cold asks. “Um, yes,” Twilight states, without touching the button. “Orders confirmed.  Initiating download…  Download complete.” Thirty seconds later, the big screen on the wall is displaying a live-updating view of the traffic all around the planet, fed directly by that secure connection.  The control room has also become a little bit of a disaster- there’s almost thirty ships overheating, and over six hundred in…  problematic positions. “No, you are not in trouble, but your current orbit will destroy your ship.  Maneuver carefully, and keep your eyes open.”  It’s Swift Orbit, talking to some spacer on an orbit set to run him through one of the Athena’s radiator zones.  He releases the button, hits the channel switch, and depresses it again. He’s holding two conversations at once, one in each ear.  “Yes ma’am, I need you to move. You’re on a direct collision course with an unmanned vessel. I have a clear orbit for you- in about forty seconds, I need you to divert ten degrees to the south.”  He releases the button again, glancing up at the screen before punching in a third channel code. “Any chance your ship could help us out, Twilight?” He depresses the button, channel entered. “Orbital Control to Echo-Alpha-Seven-Three-Echo-Charlie, do you copy, over?” Twilight blinks, having just guided one single ship into a safe orbit.  On Swift’s request, she’s helping with the control operations rather than the emergency ops; Cold Coils is handling those, and targeting the hottest vessels first.  Rather helpful Athena’s sensors can see straight through their various heat shields to read even internal temperatures- and that nopony is at truly dangerous temperatures, yet.  “True. Athena?” “Confirm and Authorize Orbital Control’s request for assistance in traffic control operations?” She blinks.  “Uh, yes.” “Request and authorization confirmed.  Activating directional comm relays. Requesting specification of minimum six hundred thirty-seven non-reserved orbital positions.” “Uh, can we just send her the database?” Swift asks.  “All of our orbits are reserved for different classes of vessels.” “Confirm authorization to upload Orbital Regulations Database?” Twilight blinks.  “Uh…” “Say yes,” he states. “Authorization confirmed.  Upload complete. Establishing two hundred eighty-three communications channels.”  At the same time, numerous lines appear over the map on the wall, with little dots of various colors sliding along them…  with associated orbital codes. Twilight looks just a little longer than the other two, before letting out a small gasp.  “Oh! The lines are orbits, the red dots filled positions, and the green ones empty! Swift glances at the screen.  “What about the orange?” “Looks like they’re partly filled.” A slowly pulsing blue line appears on the map, connecting a symbol representing a ship to a green dot- which turns orange at the same time. Up in space, the represented ship lights their engines to move to the orbit that, as far as they know, Orbital Control has just assigned them.  Rather nice how very little fuel it’ll cost to achieve that orbit- Orbital Control is not known for fuel-efficient orbit designations. Ten minutes pass, and a good three quarters of the rogue ships have little blue lines connecting them to orange or red orbital slots very close to their prior orbits.  During that time, some seven new ships also arrived, made contact, and were assigned orbits- orbits that, as near as Twilight can tell, required only minimal fuel to attain. Twilight has her eye on a flight of almost two dozen little tiny ships on approach to the planet.  They’ve already passed the regulation contact distance without calling in for orbital insertion or even to get clearance for a fly-by.  They haven’t reached the mandatory contact distance yet, though. Swift Orbit has been fairly idle; Athena is easily outperforming a hundred controllers, guiding even the most confused of starship captains through their maneuvers- and, unless she misses her guess, even taking their apparent familiarity with their ship into account with the orbit designations!  Twilight and Cold Coils have been busier, working with the various starship captains- and, occasionally, engineers- to help them regulate their ships’ temperatures properly. By now, though, they’ve managed to stabilize the situation, and are freshly idle as well. Then the call comes in.  Athena very quickly flags it as a priority transmission, routing it directly to Swift Orbit; she has been absorbing most of the traffic control calls, as there are simply too many going around right now for any one pony to even hear them all, let alone understand or keep track of them.  And responding? Not a chance. The voice sounds young.  Like, really young, when Swift Orbit allows it to play.  Cold Coils narrows her eyes. “Um, Short Flight to Orbital Control, um, do you copy, er, over?” Twilight tilts her head, glancing at her panel- half of which has been dominated by a constant readout of Athena’s control operations.  “That’s priority?” she asks. The answer is instant.  “Transmission comes from a vessel already residing within an assigned orbit; vessel has self-identified with insufficient fuel for departure and has not taken any aboard; vessel is in not in possession of any small craft.” “That’s her,” Cold Coils mutters.  “That’s the filly from last night.” Swift Orbit raises his eyebrow, and depresses the key to respond.  “Orbital control to Short Flight, we copy, over.” He releases it, and glances back at Cold Coils.  “Filly?” he asks. She nods.  “Self-identified, eight years old.” Twilight blinks- but before she can speak, the response comes back. “Okay, um…  I’m supposed to guide the fleet in…  Can I get some help?” “The fleet?” he asks, then depresses the button.  “Absolutely. What is the composition, position, and intent of the fleet?” “She’s as old as the Crusaders,” Twilight utters.  “This can only end in a disaster.” The response comes back.  “Um… I don’t know what composition is…  they’re forty k-clicks out, thirty-seven by forteen off from the solar heading.”  A dot appears on the big map, labeled ‘The Fleet’... right in the middle of the flight that hasn’t called in yet.  It almost instantly expands to indicate the flight. “Um… what was that last one?” He sighs, and depresses the button.  “Roger that, I have the fleet on long-range radar.  Do you know how many of what sizes of ships are in the fleet?” “They didn’t tell me.” “That’s going to make it harder…  Do you know their intent?” “Um…  No… um…  wait. They want me to, let’s see…  ‘guide the cruisers to the defensive nodes and the destroyers to the control nodes’...  is that okay?” They simply stare at the control panel. Silence holds for almost three seconds, before Athena’s voice comes on the line.  “To confirm- The Fleet consists of two ship types with two goals: The cruisers, to gather around the planetary defense nodes, and the destroyers, to gather around the communications relays?” “Uh…  yes.” The response is instant.  “Do you know what they intend to do after gathering at these locations?” “No…  My parents said something about destruction…  They won’t wake up right now, I tried. I think it’s the…  al-co-hol they won’t let me try.” A momentary pause, but she doesn’t stop transmitting.  “I don’t think I want it if it puts ponies to sleep… Wait. Was that a rada-” The transmission cuts off abruptly. Athena immediately starts talking.  Her voice sounds slightly different, making it somehow clear she’s not transmitting it to Short Flight.  “Situation confirmed. Short Flight is the only active crewmember aboard a class five stealthed military sensor boat; incoming fleet composition is eighteen dreadnoughts, ninety-seven cruisers, one hundred thirty-one destroyers, and eight hundred small fighter craft, all under stealth.  Stealth is imperfect; the dreadnoughts have been detected as fighter-size craft to this point. Short Flight has named the approaching force as hostile. This vessel is not a likely target, given available information; Orbital Control Central is.” Nopony moves, or says anything, staring open-mouthed at the controls. Short Flight then comes back on.  “Sorry about that, thought I saw something…  can you help with that?” Athena’s response comes back instantly- and as it does, lots more dots start appearing on the map, surrounding the planet.  “Affirmative. We will need beta-four level access to your vessel, though.” Twilight and Swift Orbit both blink, but Cold Coils baulks.  “Beta four?” she asks. “That’s… That’s complete remote control access.”  She glances down at the other two.  “They don’t tell us controllers or engineers- but I used to build starships.  Beta four allows complete remote control, and the onboard crew can’t stop it once allowed.” Short Flight comes back on.  “That was… Oh. Um, they said never to allow that, that the ship would be destroyed…” “Your vessel will not be harmed,” Athena states immediately.  “As a direct communication from us might convince the Fleet you are avoiding your duties, we intend to use your ship as a relay.  This will allow us to guide the Fleet in safely and smoothly- and leave the praise with you.” “Huh?  … Oh, that makes sense.  So, beta four only lets you use us as a communications relay?” “Affirmative.  We’ll send the request in a few seconds; when you accept it, your control screens may flicker momentarily.  This is normal.” “Ahh, okay.” “Alright.  Sending the request now.” “There it is!  And… accepted.  U--- Wow, you were right.  They did flicker.” Cold Coils breaks the silence in the control room.  “That… That worked. I don’t believe it.” “Affirmative,” Athena states, to them.  “Beta Four access acquired; secure connection established, systems overridden.  Database downloaded, analyzing now. Approaching fleet confirmed hostile.” “And completely legally, to boot,” Swift Orbit mutters- before glancing at Cold Coils.  “Beta Four is legal, right?” She only nods. Then Athena comes on the transmission once again, while lines start drawing themselves across the map, indicating her planned courses for the various vessels in the inbound fleet.  “Thank you. We’ll be initiating contact with the Fleet in just a few seconds.” “Wait,” Twilight mutters, looking at the screen.  “That’s not where they wanted to go, is it?” Athena’s response comes back instantly.  “Correct. Approaching fleet is not aware of local defense or communications node locations; various unmanned craft have been selected to serve as decoys for such; relay access has been acquired on all decoy craft.  Orbital Control operations will switch to decoy relay network in thirty seconds. All decoys are in isolated orbits with clear fire lanes from the real defensive nodes. Requesting Beta-Three access to system defense nodes; requesting authorization to use lethal force against the approaching enemy.” All three ponies blink.  A prompt appears on Swift Orbit’s control panel- the access request. Swift orbit looks at the panel, then back at Cold Coils.  “What was Beta Three, again?” She blinks.  “Beta Three? That’s full remote control, with the option for local override.  She’ll have full control of the defense nodes, but we can take it back at any time.” He nods.  “Alright then, authorization granted.”  He punches a key, and the prompt disappears. Twilight blinks.  “Uh… yes, I suppose.”  She looks up towards the ceiling.  “Try not to kill anypony you don’t have to, okay?” “Beta Three access acquired; secure connections established.  Orders confirmed; defensive fire authorized on condition: Aim to disable, allow surrender.” Then the voice changes again- onto the transmission.  “Orbital Control to Short Flight, do you copy, over?” The response is instant.  “Huh? Um… Short Flight to Orbital Control, um, I copy, over?” Athena again.  “We have established contact with the Fleet.  Your vessel is well within their expected firing lanes, but the Fleet has requested you maintain your existing orbit, for ease in communication.  Would you prefer to temporarily vacate your vessel, for your safety? We can relay any transmissions you make through it as well.” “Huh?  But what about my parents?  Won’t they find out?” “Negative.  They are not likely to awaken for several hours yet; if your vessel survives the coming action, we can safely return you aboard before they awaken.” “Okay!  Um… How should I vacate, and where to?” “Your vessel is equipped with an escape pod, correct?” “Uh, yes.  I’m a unicorn, though, so it’s not exactly comfortable…” “Roger.  You see that big ship on sensors, correct?  The Starship Athena?” “Big ship…?  Um… Oh, do you mean the ship that dwarfs supercarriers?” “Affirmative.” “Uh…  isn’t it a bit hot…?” “Negative.  Starship Athena has recently recovered from an overheat status, and interior temperatures are acceptable at this time.  We will be using her as a transfer location to a ground-based shuttle for transit to the surface; should the shuttle approach your craft, the Fleet- or other nearby vessels- may notice and fire upon it.” “Right.  Um, tell me what to do.” “Time your launch for zero-seven-thirty-six and eighteen seconds, by your shipboard clock; remain braced for sudden acceleration even after the escape burn ends, until the pod lands aboard the Starship Athena.  We will handle the docking process; Starship Athena is equipped with the necessary technology.” The voice changes- off the transmission. “Requesting permission to acquire control of an empty, sealed-cockpit surface-to-space shuttle for use in transferring Short Flight to the surface.”