Princess Celestia seemed to take on a sudden no-nonsense demeanor, the type of attitude used to give orders and explain directives rather than answer abstract questions.
“Inside the base of Mount Avalon,” the alicorn explained, “there is a vehicle known as the Aethon. It is designed to protect mortals from harm, and preserve their life, as they exit the Earth’s atmosphere and travel through the heavens. It is the only such craft in the solar system.”
Twilight’s eyes glimmered as she bore an open-mouthed grin. “You mean space travel is actually possible?” She was almost giddy with the idea. There had been four or five science fiction or fantasy novels written about leaving the planet, especially in recent years, though none sent the protagonist any further than a trot on the moon--some even had the crew encounter and do battle with Nightmare Moon. However, these stories were not usually taken seriously and were often criticized for their outlandish inaccuracy. “How does it work?” she asked eagerly.
Celestia smiled. “I intend to show you, rather than tell you. It isn’t far. But first, we must decide upon the crew.”
The six ponies looked at each other in confusion. “Why can’t we all go?” Rarity asked.
“The Aethon does not have enough beds and cannot hold enough food or water for six ponies. The crew is limited to four.”
“How come none of y’all can go?” said Applejack, broadening the conversation to include the other two Princesses.
Luna answered. “The incarnation thou seest before thee is but an avatar. In truth, our consciousness lay within our respective heavenly bodies--mine in the Moon, my sister’s in the Sun, and Princess Cadence’s is in the planet of Venus. The manifest is, in a way, like a unicorn’s conjuration. As it moves further from the point of origin, the power weakens and the body shrinks. If the avatar leaves the influence of its body entirely, it will fizzle away.”
“Conceivably, one of us could complete this mission taking our star or planet in tow, but that would be needlessly complicated,” Celestia added. “In addition, we are needed to keep the peace as best we can here on Earth, and if we were to try to leave then we would almost certainly be stopped by Apollyon and the Elements. Hence, we must use a pony crew, and I think that the six of you are as good a set of candidates as any.”
Twilight had doubts. After the initial enthusiasm had worn off, the potential problems had started to manifest in her mind: if the ship were to stop functioning, would they be stranded millions of miles from any habitable planet? How surely could the craft protect them from the perils of space? Did anyone even know exactly how far the Hyperuranion was from Earth, and was there enough supplies for the trip?
But there were inherent dangers in every one of the missions that they had undertaken in the past. Without risk, there can be no reward--and though the risks were high, none were too great if the fate of the world was at stake.
Determined, Twilight saluted. “We’ll do it, Princess. Just name the positions that need to be filled.”
Celestia nodded back at her. “First is a technician, to-”
“Ooh!” Pinkie interrupted, raising a hoof. “Pick me! Pick me! I’m good with machines!”
The Princess smiled fondly. “The technician must be well acquainted with magical theory and practice in order to run the various arcane processes of the ship. I had Twilight Sparkle in mind, not only because she has proven herself more than worthy of the job, but because her vast wells of inner power would go quite a ways in powering the ship.”
“I would be honored, Princess.”
“Good,” Celestia smiled back at her. “Next would be the navigator: somepony familiar with movement in all three dimensions to plot the course through space. Preferably a pegasus.”
“Ooh! Ooh! I-oh...”
Fluttershy squeaked nervously and attempted to hide.
“I’ll do it, Princess,” Rainbow Dash volunteered. “Going into space sounds awesome! We’ll probably get to fight all sorts of space monsters and stuff!”
Celestia opened her mouth as if to respond to that, but then moved on. “Finally, there will be a chef, whose purpose is simply to prepare all the meals onboard the craft.”
“OhohOH!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, bouncing up and down. “I’m already a chef! I can chef things up real good!”
“Would you like to do it, Pinkie Pie?” Celestia asked, amused.
“Yes, please.”
“Wait,” Twilight said. “You said there was going to be a crew of four. That’s just three.”
“The pilot has already been chosen, and he is waiting with the ship,” the Princess explained.
Outside the back door of the palace there was a wooden carriage with room for five and a gilded Royal chariot with only two seats, each with earth pony guards already harnessed in. Celestia justified using the ground route as opposed to flying as a means of secrecy, to prevent their destination from becoming public knowledge. Though this explanation was accepted by most, Twilight saw through to the true purpose of this subtle manipulation of events. She knew exactly why the Princess had chosen the slower path, and why six ponies couldn’t fit in the carriage.
“Do you have any further questions about the mission, Twilight?” Celestia asked calmly once they had started moving.
And she was, of course, happy to oblige. “A few,” the unicorn replied. “There was some sort of... meteor in the sky last night, and it was behaving really oddly. Does that have anything to do with this?”
“An asteroid,” the alicorn clarified. “Used by gods to send messages. This one from Apollyon, merely confirming what we had already figured out: that he was coming, and that he intended to consume the Earth.”
“A message?” Twilight asked, thinking of the implications. “Why can’t you use one of those to ask the Unmoved Mover for help, rather than sending us?”
“I don’t know,” the Princess admitted. Twilight cocked an eyebrow at her. “I just... can’t conceptualize it. A pegasus foal who’s never tried to fly to the moon can’t tell you why it cannot be done, but knows nonetheless that it can’t. A god’s intuition is a strange thing, I admit, but I have come to trust it.
“In addition,” she continued, “it would not be a very wise idea to send a single plea to a Being that I have never met. There would be no possibility of dialogue--by the time the asteroid reached the Empyrean and another was sent back, the Earth would be long gone, and I with it. If the Mover isn’t convinced by that first argument, then we would have no other hope.”
The unicorn nodded in understanding. “Another thing that bothered me,” she said. “You said that the Elements of Harmony wouldn’t work against a higher god. But wouldn’t Discord, a god of chaos, outrank you?”
“Discord wasn’t a god of anything. His form and consciousness manifested purely by chance from the random magical distortions of the universe, complete with delusions of grandeur. His existence was pure happenstance, and his claim to authority insubstantial. Thus the Elements were effective against him, once we found where he had hidden them.”
Twilight nodded again. She then looked out over the side of the carriage, past the ledge of the path at the ever-approaching green fundament of the earth below. “One last question,” she began somewhat bleakly. Celestia leaned closer. “If you and Luna knew about this the whole time... why didn’t you tell us?”
The alicorn’s face grew sorrowful, and she paused as if searching for the words to say. “I very much would have liked for my ponies to have been prepared for this day, to not have it come as such a shock. I would have preferred to have told you. But I had no idea when the day would arrive, nor how many generations would live in fear of a sudden judgement day that wouldn’t even come within their lifetime. I owe myself to my subjects’ happiness as much as to their safety, and upon weighing the odds... I found that this was the better choice.”
Twilight didn’t reply, simply staring at the ground and attempting to come to terms with her world suddenly changing around her. Celestia frowned. “If it’s any consolation, when you completed your studies, you, if not all of your friends as well, would have become one of my official confidants.”
The unicorn gave a small smile, though her eyes were still sad. “I suppose that helps.”
The last few minutes of the trip passed in relative silence, though it was by no means uncomfortable. As the chariot approached flat ground, a small wooden house built against the side of the mountain appeared around the bend. They stopped, and Twilight heard the ends of a cheery conversation about nothing in particular as her friends exited the carriage. The unicorn surmised that the other ponies simply saw this as one of their many adventures in which they go up against the bad guy, keep hope, and in the end everything will be alright. She hoped that that would be the case, but a part of her feared otherwise.
One of the guards that had been pulling the biga removed his harness and trotted to the front door of the dwelling, knocking on it five times. He stepped aside, allowing Princess Celestia to stand in front of the entrance, flanked on either side by the six ponies.
After a moment, the door opened and a unicorn stallion stepped through the threshold. His coat was a very pale yellow, almost indistinguishable from white, his mane and tail, plus the short beard on his muzzle, were various shades of gray, and his eyes were golden. He appeared to be nearing middle-aged, but wouldn’t be considered old--in fact, he seemed abnormally young to have such ashen hair. His cutie mark was a brazen armillary sphere with thin and uneven patina. To Twilight he wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, though that wasn’t surprising considering his proximity to Canterlot.
“Hello, Princess,” he greeted, and his voice was warm and friendly, especially when compared to the somber expression on his guest’s face.
“He has come, Hipparcos,” Celestia said.
The stallion sighed. “Yes, I’ve noticed the signs.” He looked inspectingly at the six mortal ponies. “I assume some of these are my crew, then? They seem awfully young.”
“They are competent. They have protected Equestria, and sometimes the entire planet, several times in the past.”
The unicorn paused for a moment as he connected the dots. “Ah! The Bearers of the Elements, then. I’m honored. My name is Hipparcos Lucian--my family has preserved the Aethon, and lay in wait of piloting it, for generations.”
“Hi! I’m Pinkie Pie!” and she vigorously shook his hoof. “I’m the chef!”
“Rainbow Dash,” the pegasus introduced herself. “I’m your navigator.”
“And I am Twilight Sparkle, the technician,” Twilight said. “This is Fluttershy, Applejack, and Rarity, who won’t be coming.”
“Pleased to meet you all,” Hipparcos said. “Do come in.”
The stallion’s house was rather spartan in its furnishings, though it seemed to have a few more bedrooms than was necessary considering there was no sign of any other ponies living there at the moment. At the back the walls connected to the side of the mountain, which had been carved to a flat surface. There was a large stone disc standing flush against this wall, and as Hipparcos began to telekinetically roll it away an icy draft billowed forth from the gaping darkness on the other side.
The congregation filed into the inky dark, smoothly cut stone tunnel. A short moment later, the Princess’s horn burned gold and a brilliant light flashed in the cave, which quickly dimmed to a more comfortable brightness. Twilight saw, as the cramped shaft opened into a massive cavern, that the illumination came from magelights spread evenly across the walls, each with a glow matching that of Celestia’s magic. She also saw, in the center of the cave and only feet from the walls on each side, a massive argent bullet the size of a large house, pointing upward. A sturdy hatch faced them, but otherwise there appeared to be no sign that the metal was ever anything but one piece--no rivets, overlaps, or welds, though there were thick, seemingly decorative grooves curling downward from the top of the craft that may have hidden such seams.
All of the mares oohed at its grandiosity. “Is that it?” Applejack asked.
“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” Fluttershy marvelled.
“It looks like a bullet,” Rainbow Dash remarked. “So what, you’re just gonna shoot us up and out?”
“More or less,” Celestia said. Twilight looked up at the dark shaft above, far too tall for sunlight to reach the bottom at anything but high noon, and prayed that the barrel wasn’t rifled.
A silver aura suffused the handle of the door and it swung outward slowly, the mortal ponies filing in. Celestia wished the crew the best of luck and said she would see them all again before launch. Hipparcos nodded at her, and the Princess excused herself.
Through the hatch was a cramped room with barely enough space to fit everyone inside, a similar door on the opposite wall. “A bit bland for a foyer,” Rarity commented. “Not even a painting? Or at the very least some wallpaper?” She indicated the bare metal walls.
“This is an airlock,” Hipparcos corrected. “The Aethon can only hold so much air, and this keeps it from rushing out into the vacuum when we go in or out.” The other hatch swung inward and they passed into a much larger room.
It was a library. Or, at least, it had the potential to be a library. Wooden bookshelves curved around the circumference of the room, another arc of shelving nested inside it with an opening facing the entrance, and in the center was a circular table with four chairs. There was obviously something missing, though. “Where are the books?” Twilight inquired.
“The literature that was first stored in this library was in languages that are long since dead. They were donated to museums and archives and the shelves were restocked, but since then the replacement books have become archaic and obsolete, and were taken out as well. After that, we just left it empty. The crew is expected to obtain the books they’d like to take.
“There’s only one book from the very beginning that we couldn’t get rid of.” A thick navy-blue tome with only a five-pointed star on its cover levitated from the edge of the inner shelf and presented itself to Twilight. She opened it and found no words, only complex circular diagrams. The pages were almost immaculate despite their apparent age, which wasn’t too surprising: there was a known charm to prevent wear, it simply wasn’t common to use en masse due to the amount of power it would consume. “A visual reference of helpful magicks for space travel. Each of these spells was created solely for this voyage, and there is only one other copy of this book in existence, which is kept in a vault beneath the Canterlot Archives.” Twilight quietly squeaked in delight.
The spellbook was replaced on the shelf and Hipparcos lead the assembly to the back of the room, where an archway opened to a spiral staircase that seemed to circumnavigate the ship. They ascended until, approximately 180 degrees away, a similar arch appeared. “Bedchambers,” he said, motioning down the hallway, which had two doors on each side. “The rooms are rather empty, though I’m sure you can bring some of your own things to make it feel more like home. The beds themselves, on the other hoof, are very nice.”
They continued upward without entering any of the rooms. Another semicircle and they were at the entrance to another area the size of the library, this one with a slightly larger table with, again, four chairs, a kitchen against the opposite wall, pantries and cabinets lining the rest of the perimeter. “Kitchen and mess. It once had nothing but a fire pit, but it has since been remodeled and more modern appliances were teleported in.”
Applejack pointed at the sink. “How do ya get water in here when you’re up in space?”
“All the waste water is recycled,” Hipparcos explained.
“... Ew.”
The stallion didn’t seem to give her any mind. “The pantries are empty right now, of course. The chef will be in charge of procuring the food.”
Said chef was about to say something, but Twilight interrupted. “Don’t just get candy!”
“Well, of course not, silly!” Pinkie replied. “I’m also going to get cak-”
“And not just pastries, either!” the unicorn commanded. “We need fruits. Vegetables. Grains. Dairy. At proper nutritional ratios!”
“Aww...” groaned the earth pony. “Okay.”
They rounded the staircase once more and reached yet another archway, past which the stairs ended. Inside was a large rotunda, walled with marble just like the rest of the interior, but with alabaster columns rising from the floor to a coffered dome, in the center of which was a crystal oculus. Inside each compartment in the ceiling was a complex geometric shape, and each pillar was embedded with runes reading vertically and twined with golden filigree which sprouted from straight lines in the floor that formed radially symmetric patterns and concentric circles. In the center there was a raised basin.
“This is the bridge,” Hipparcos announced. “I will be in charge of the piloting for the most part, but there may be some responsibilities that will need to be taken care of while I’m asleep--we will be sleeping in shifts, by the way. In that case, any unicorn can access the interface, and I will show you what to do beforehand.”
“It looks like one of those ancient Celsan temples in the history books,” Rarity assessed appreciatively. “It’s quite an interesting aesthetic.”
Twilight cantered to the basin in the center, in which she found a pool of still silvery liquid that reflected the view from the oculus. She dipped in her hoof, frowned at it, and then telekinetically picked the fluid from her fur. “Mercury,” she concluded.
“Yes,” confirmed the stallion.
The younger unicorn turned to look at him. “Neither I nor any of my friends are leaving the atmosphere in this.”
“What?” Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie blurted in conjunction.
“Why not?” Hipparcos asked.
“I understand that it’s old, so it makes sense,” Twilight explained. “But nearly everything in this room is many centuries obsolete. These are relics from a time when magic was thought of as just miracles and curses--it’s like walking into an emergency room to find that they still use bloodletting!”
“It isn’t as bad as it looks,” the stallion assured her. “The underlying enchantments have been updated hundreds of times since the ship’s construction. And, in the first place, it was designed by Celestia herself, and she knew more about magic than any mortal at the time.”
“Yeah, well, what if the ship shakes, spilling the mercury, and... I don’t know... Pinkie Pie starts licking it up?”
“That does sound like me,” the earth pony admitted.
Hipparcos raised an eyebrow. “In that case, I would be more worried about the loss of the quicksilver than for your friend. There are ways to prevent mercury poisoning from setting in and minimize damage to the body, but the fluid itself doesn’t come out in any usable form. And it doesn’t just fall from the sky, either.”
Twilight’s eyes narrowed.
“The artificial gravity field also insulates the inside from any external disturbances,” he said. “Plus, when the ship’s magic isn’t inert as it is now, there is an ethereal shield over the bowl.”
“... Alright,” the mare conceded. She knew that she was only trying to disprove the craft’s safety because of her own fears of leaving--but she had already made a commitment, and there was no getting out of that now.
“Alright,” Hipparcos echoed. “We will launch tonight. Courtesy of the Princess, you will have unlimited funds for supplies, which will be chosen mostly at your own discretion. The weight of the cargo should be considered, however.
“Also,” he said. “Speak with your families and friends. There’s no telling... exactly how long we’ll be gone.”