Of the three thousand Duplicants living in the space colony of Equestria, only a few dozen had seen the Surface. They're mostly astronauts, space cadets, miners, electrical engineers, or, like Twilight Sparkle, astronomers.
While being there was considered a privilege, nopony regretted never being there, and the sight that Twilight saw answered why: the surface was desolate, almost a wasteland, with nothing interesting but regolith hills, regolith valleys, and the occasional regolith craters. Oh, and never forget the Shove Voles, small drill-like critters that occasionally poked their cute, innocent heads from underground, ready to be caught, mercilessly murdurized, and cooked into delicious dinners.
With tonnes of regolith covering the asteroid, finding a landmark from a random point would be like finding a leather jacket in space, for there were only four across its entire surface. Luckily, two of those were only twenty meters apart, and Twilight came from one (the colony's entrance) to go to the other (the observatory).
The other two landmarks were, of course, the currently closed launchpad opening and four hundred square meters of solar panels. The solar panels were currently exposed to space, having the heavy bunker doors—exactly like the ones Twilight had just gone through—above them opened up, ready to be automatically closed at a moment's notice of incoming meteor showers.
Seeing the doors opened eased a part of Twilight's mind. Or, for that matter, anypony's. Knowing that the sky wouldn't fall on the Duplicant's fragile, squishy heads for the next few hours was a nice thing to have in mind.
As Twilight trudged her way across the Surface, she looked around for the labeled poles here and there, searching for the one marked 47.
45 . . . 46 . . . Ah, there it is, 47!
Reaching the pole, Twilight pressed a button on her multitool belt, and something akin to a laser gun twice the size of her head appeared from one of the pockets directly above her back. Twilight let out a little "Oomph!" as it landed on her, its nozzle mounted on her right shoulder.
Twilight pondered for a split second on how the phrase 'laser gun' described it well, for it emits a ray of precise electromagnetic radiation in such a way to break the molecular structure of the target it's pointed at. The thought evaporated, however, when she saw the brand Alicorn Tech etched in its sides, along with the name Mining Guntm 3.0 right below it.
Indeed, calling it a 'mining gun' would save a lot more time than 'laser gun used for precise excavation and demolition'. It would also prevent any sort of confusion from the audience, awarding explainers with less time wasted on useless social interactions that could otherwise be spent on colony maintenance.
So she did just that, and carefully dug out the regolith until she hit a metal surface. When she did, she started going sideways, looking for the latch. As soon as she found it, she turned her mining gun off, which responded by retracting to her pocket, and opened the latch.
She was greeted by a cloud of smoke. Luckily, there's a thick layer of glass between it and her face, protecting her from the need of taking an early bath. She wiped her helmet clean with her two-layered-gloved hoof and inspected the damage.
The conveyor belt itself didn't suffer. Instead, it was the motors that overheated and malfunctioned. Upon further inspection, she found that the overheating was caused by the leak from the massive pipe underneath it, sending near-boiling coolant all around the entire junction, frying the electrical and automation grid as well. It seemed that somepony below had shut the pipe, for by then it was merely dripping.
She estimated that she needed at least fifteen kilograms of iron ore for the pipe and both grids and ten kilograms of refined copper for the belt. She only brought five kilograms of refined copper.
Doesn't matter, she thought, I only need to fix the conveyor belt, anyway.
After she finished fixing the conveyor belt, she closed the latch back and continued her slow and uneventful walk towards the observatory.
The small airlock chamber locked behind her as she stepped into the observatory. As soon as it did, she took off the spacesuit as quickly as she could. Without the helmet between her nostrils and the room's air, she quickly caught the familiar smell of paper and smiled.
The observatory was claustrophobic, what with all the tables and astronomical charts covering almost every centimeter of available space. The only unoccupied space was that between the telescope's seat and the entrance, a grand total of one meter long. Barely enough for a Dupe to walk and operate the observatory.
Twilight carefully stepped through the piles of papers into the seat and ungracefully plopped down. As was usual, it wasn't comfortable to sit in with her multitool belt on, so she unstrapped it and dropped it to one of the tables along with her saddlebag.
The position sent her into a familiar bliss, and soon she was already holding a pencil and unrolled her latest chart.
Hours went by unnoticed, but it was of no concern to anypony, especially Twilight. She didn't need the multitool belt to notify her of the time, for the bunker door above the observatory was automated by the automation grid to close an hour before downtime to give her time to travel back and reach Regoville Frontier's Grand Hall before dinner.
Or, at rare moments, when the radar detected an incoming meteor shower, in which case her beautiful moments with the beauty of space would be mercilessly cut short.
A knock came from the door. Twilight frowned and wondered who might be visiting. Hopefully not Minuette; she had done that once because she thought—
Another knock came which alerted Twilight. Mainly because she heard it as a deafening SLAM on the door.
She tip-toed from her chair to one of the windows on the side, wondering what the ruckus was about. She found out that the ruckus was a molten block of copper coming straight into her vision.
She jumped aside too late, but fortunately, the window was thick enough to stop the meteor. Unfortunately, it's not enough to not crack at the impact, bleeding out oxygen into space.
At the sudden drop of pressure, an alarm blared that told anypony inside that the ventilation system was shut down from the facility, preventing further loss of oxygen.
Twilight wondered with disdain at whoever came out with that logic. She also wondered why the automation grid didn't shut the bunker—
And she remembered that the grid at #47 connected the radar to the observatory's bunker door.
"Well, crap."
Another SLAM from above broke her out of her stupor. Thinking quickly, she grabbed her spacesuit and put it on, but not before packing her precious charts underneath it.
As she finished suiting up, she stepped into the airlock chamber and waited for the second door to open.
She found out that the rude knocking from before was a metric ton of regolith slamming right at her door, as was seen from the grey sand hugging her tight as soon as the door opened.
Twilight stepped out from the pile of regolith and stumbled into the floor.
Alright, she thought, there's a meteor shower outside that can destroy the observatory. I'm locked inside the observatory. With both information, I can deduce that there's a meteor shower that can destroy me along with the observatory.
That's bad. To avoid a bad situation, think. Wait no don't think just dig dig dig why is regolith so hard to dig oh, right, the mining gun yeah that can really help right now but where is it!?
In the midst of her panic, she didn't notice her multitool belt right underneath her hoof until it got tangled and tripped her. Putting it on, her mind was bombarded with a plethora of direct commands from the Colony Manager telling her to get out of the observatory. She was also notified that up to twenty floors down, the colony had been put in Red Alert and every activity, including oxygen generation, had been suspended to focus on getting her out of there. Some Dupes had already been on the entrance airlock chamber, hopelessly waiting for the bunker door to open, while others are trying to dismantle the thick walls protecting the solar panels to let them through.
Another meteor struck the side of the building, this time big enough to shoot right through the wall, missing centimeters from Twilight.
As luck gave it, the hole was big enough for her to slip through.
Once outside, the sudden change in pressure caused her suit to pressurize, leaving her stumbling through the surface at a general direction of the colony entrance.
A regolith meteor nearly missed Twilight, forcing her adrenaline-induced brain to focus. She began trotting in a straight line, but still too slow for her to not panic or for the Colony Manager to not flip out and send her another two dozen commands of 'RUN FASTER'.
A meteor of molten iron flew by, impacting right behind her. Twilight felt as if the meteor shower was meant specifically for her.
Until she looked up, at least, by which she saw meteors coming by the dozens, spraying the surface with more rocks than Stinky spraying anypony with his body odor.
Panicking was by then justified. Not preferable, but justified.
Justified because even the Colony Manager dropped the Red Alert another ten floors down and began to desperately command the Dupes to dismantle the bunker door instead of waiting for it to open.
Not preferable because it caused her to stumble and hit her helmet to the surface. A huge crack appeared across her helmet, letting out an audible hiss and a visible stream of precious oxygen.
Twilight felt time slow down as she processed the situation. Looking up, she felt relieved to see the bunker door, already two-thirds open, only three strides away.
She pulled herself up and began to jump. Due to the heavy spacesuit she was wearing, her jumps were pathetically short, but nonetheless still faster than trotting.
Her anemia caught up, and the edges of her vision went dark, despite her hyperventilating. Unable to keep her pace, she resorted to walking, slowly but surely, to the bunker door.
Just another step away . . .
The bunker door was happy to see her so close. It was so happy, in fact, that it chose to let go of its hinges for a hug.
"OH, YOU'VE GOTTA BE KIDDING—"
Unfortunately, Twilight, bunker doors don't have the mental capacity for comedic banter. Yes, we know, a crushing hug had never been so painful nor literal.