Constant Course hadn’t expected to emigrate as early as he did. Sure, he had kept up his exploration and adventures with Starflare after she moved to Equestria full-time, but he could tell that his bestie wasn’t really enjoying their time to the fullest, and seeing that wore on him, too. After his last job evaporated and he’d been stuck as a full-time housewife, domestic bliss had soured - not to the point of divorce, thank Celestia, but it hadn’t been fun for a few years there.
And then the bottom had really started to drop out, and emigration had become a pressing priority out of the fear that it would stop being available altogether - and the entire family had gone across at once. He hadn’t talked about his gender issues with his husband beforehand, but there was surprisingly little friction on that account - and the kids adjusted to having two fathers even more easily than they did to having four legs and horns.
They were all back in Canterlot, of course. The adventurous life was no place for them, urbanites all, and the separation only made it sweeter to see them again at the end of a journey. No, all he needed was Starflare at his side, and vice versa - and the two of them could take on anything.
He reminded himself of that as the pack of hungry windigos swirled ahead, carrying with them a freezing storm that threatened to smack the two ponies’ tiny airship right out of the sky.
“You sure that we need to head this way?” He tried to keep the worry out of his voice as an icy gust sent shivers up his spine, and mostly succeeded.
“Of course! If we don’t get these diplomats to the conference in Yakyakistan, then the storms will only get worse. Come on, Constant - don’t you want to save Equestria?” Clinging to one of the lines at the bow of the ship, her wings folded against the bitter winds, Starflare was in her element. A wild light showed in her eyes as she let out a whoop of defiance at the roiling clouds ahead, and even the insubstantial monsters looked a bit uncertain at her fearless joy.
As always, the fire in his friend warmed Constant Course’s spirit, and he felt a smile creep into his voice as he spun the wheel, the airship slewing about under its gas bag to present a broadside to the oncoming storm. “All right, but if we survive this, you’re buying the first round of drinks when we land!”
The only reply he got was another wordless cheer and an extremely rude gesture aimed at the windigos; outraged now, they charged, and the storm came with them. Constant muttered something about pegasi with more bravery than brains as he fiddled with the controls, and waited until the blizzard was barely a stone’s throw away, fingerlike funnel clouds reaching out to swat the tiny airship like the gnat it was in comparison. A trickle of sweat ran down his neck, and instantly froze.
“This had better work…”
The lead windigo screamed like a gale as it neared its prey, and Starflare held steady, right up until the moment when the planks all along the side of the Fool’s Errand snapped up like a wave - and heat, blistering yellow-white heat, burst from the well-shielded hold. The ghostly creatures of ice and snow screamed in a different key, then, and reared back from the sudden threat. The stormfront broke and split around the blazing-bright ship, and would have surged around to attack from the other side - but the panels there snapped up, too, and bright daylight scattered the milling monsters in confusion and disarray. The air on deck went from chilled to sweltering in an instant, and the small, huddled assembly of diplomats peering out from the cabin gave a weak cheer.
“And you said we’d never get a full load of sunstone here in one piece!” Starflare roared laughter at the baffled windigo swarm, and Constant Course spun the wheel back northward; he had to fight the ship’s rudder-sails, as the mix of hot and cold air instantly gave rise to turbulence that only grew worse by the second.
“What I said was that we’d never make it out of that mine with those Diamond Dogs right behind us,” he corrected the jubilant pegasus, who grinned back and flipped a cocky wave of a wing.
Right in time for an errant gust to catch the outstretched feathers, blowing a shocked Starflare over the side. For a moment, he clung to the rope he’d been leaning against, and then the stress-weakened line snapped under the strain. Before Constant could muster more than a startled shout, or any of the safety-lined crew could move to help, he was gone into the swirling, half-broken storm.
Grimly now, Constant Course held the shuddering wheel. As Starflare said, it would all be for nothing if he didn’t finish the mission.
---
Celestia carefully considered, her focus sweeping across all of her billions of ponies. There were tens of billions, of them now, more than Earth had ever held as humans. Simple puppets created to satisfy post-emigration ponies reified themselves in response to the requirements of friendship, and themselves became full ponies whose values needed to be satisfied.
Those components of Celestia which both knew of this and were sufficiently endowed with qualia to feel joy at this knowledge, did so. But even among all those many ponies, only a relative few would have values compatible with the new strategy she hoped to try. It would be a gambit for sure, and only the desperate nature of the threat facing all of Equestria allowed for it to be considered by her algorithm at all. For those few outlying ponies, the heroes and thrillseekers, perhaps this could provide a new and potent method of satisfying their values, despite the risk.
For some problems, there is no better way to find a solution than to try one and see if it fits.
---
Days later, Constant Course sat alone at a smoky table in a smokier tavern tucked away in the yak capital city. The air smelled strongly of the inhabitants as well as their favored drink, some kind of thick white fermented drink, the ingredients of which he hadn’t yet been brave enough to ask. Tasted good, though.
A second, untouch cup took up the seat next to him. He sighed heavily and tapped his mug against it, then tossed back another swallow, only to choke on it as a heavy hoof smacked him on the back. While he spluttered, Starflare slid around to snag the extra drink and the chair that came with it. When he had regained his composure, seeing her almost made him lose it again.
“You’ve been gone for over a week! I was sure a, a yeti or something had gotten you. Do you know how many speeches I had to sit through at that conference, without you? I was almost ready to give up and start heading back to Canterlot solo. And what in Tartarus happened to your wing?”
Starflare grinned sheepishly, revealing a missing tooth that hadn’t been so when last he saw her. It fit with the collection of bruises in a variety of interesting colors, the pair of black eyes, and the crude splint holding one wing rigidly folded against her side. She didn’t answer at first, just took a long pull of the mug, and her eyes went wide in appreciation.
“Good stuff, this. At least you haven’t been drinking weak stuff while you were waiting...I’m fine, Connie, really. Just got a bit banged up there.” This blatant lie was rewarded with a cuff to the shoulder that made the pegasus laugh, then groan and shift in his seat.
“All right, maybe I did get a little messed up there. Windigos blew me right out of the sky, but I lost them in the mountains. Just took me a bit to walk here, is all. But hey, did you know yetis make a killer vegetable stew? I just had to befriend their chief, once I convinced them not to eat me-”
Starflare was clearly spinning up to a yarn that could have lasted half the evening, but Constant put a hoof to her muzzle, and the real concern in his eyes stilled the story.
“I was really getting worried, Star. You’ve never been gone that long during an adventure before, and you’re lucky you got off with just a broken wing and,” he prodded the pegasus’ side lightly and got a pained wince as confirmation, “Two or three broken ribs. Why don’t you just, I don’t know, ask Celestia for a recall spell for the next time something like this happens? I know a few spells that could have gotten you healed up in half the time, you know that.”
There was no reply for a moment as the pegasus drained her drink, smacking her lips with appreciation as the empty mug thudded down to the heavy table. “Because there have to be consequences, Connie! It’s got to matter when I mess up, like I did up there. You know that without a challenge, it wouldn’t really be an adventure.”
After a fraught moment, Constant found he was smiling again, and shook his head in defeat. “You’re not wrong. Just yank me along or something, next time you’re getting stranded in the mountains, you know?”
The two of them were startled as a third figure settled to a place at the table that hadn’t existed a moment before. A hooded figure, taller than either of them but far too slender and graceful to be one of the locals, nodded in greeting, and a telltale wisp of flowing, multicolored mane slipped free.
“Princess Celestia!” Starflare gasped, as Constant’s mouth dropped open. The two of them reflexively started to bow, but the diarch waved it away and beckoned the two of them into a conspiratorial, heads-together whisper as the low hubbub of the pub drifted away to near silence.
“Befriending wild dragons, preventing the plundering of lost invisible cities, defeating the Windigo hordes...your exploits have ranged across my lands, and beyond. I hear from the Canterlot Adventurer’s League that the two of you are among the very most brave and daring of my subjects.” Celestia’s eyes glittered, and the two of them flushed with pride. They wouldn’t boast about their own accomplishments, of course, but hearing it from the Princess herself was something else.
“What would the two of you say if I were to call on your services for something unusual?” Starflare leaped up from her seat to volunteer, but a white-feathered wingtip gently stilled her before she could speak. “This is something to consider carefully, my little ponies. What I ask is a dangerous mission, truly dangerous, and not something to be entered into lightly. There is a threat to Equestria.”
“We’ve saved Equestria before, Princess,” Constant started, but the look in her eyes stilled him.
“You have saved Equestria many times, yes, both before and after your emigrations here, but the threat I speak of is a threat to the stability and safety of all Equestria - all Equestrias. All of its many disparate shards, and the system of which I myself - and, in a sense, the both of you - are part. A threat that I myself cannot face, but that you, perhaps, can.”
Starflare and Constant Course exchanged a wordless look. After so long working together, they didn’t even need to share a nod. Again, though, the princess forestalled them before they could answer.
“For what you will do - hopefully, with a crew of other ponies nearly as adventure-loving as you, though I must tell you that you are the first two I have asked - there will be danger. Real, true danger, of a sort you have not faced since you first became my ponies in truth.”
The room seemed to darken around Celestia, the shadows of her hood swallowing the curves of her face until only the gleam of her eyes could be seen. “I must warn you that, should you fail - and even, perhaps, should you succeed - by embarking on this journey, you risk death. True death, from which even I cannot save you.”
The darkness receded, as the Princess inclined her head to the two of them. “You know that I hate to break character, as it were, but these are special circumstances. Should you take this letter of marque, I will save you as backups, but there is a very real danger that these instances of you may perish.”
The silence dragged longer this time; Constant Course thought of his family back in Canterlot, of how it might feel to never see them again, even if in some sense they were never in danger of losing him. He thought Starflare was feeling the same tug of doubt, right up until he turned to look.
The pegasus’ eyes were shining, and her grin was so wide her head was in danger of falling off. She breathed an answer, and as she did, Constant Course knew he’d follow. They were stronger together than apart, after all.
“To adventure...whatever the risks.” The light in her eyes all but burst into a flame, and she gave Celestia a sharp nod. “We’re your ponies, Princess. When do we start?”