//------------------------------//
// Chapter 7: Derpy Watches 
// Story: Ad Astra Per Derpy Aspera 
// by SparklingTwilight 
//------------------------------//

Derpy clutched her stomach and grimaced, but she pushed through the pain and made her way to the testing grounds. She waved at the guards who flew up to meet her.

"You can't be here," one said.

"Only authorized personnel."

"I'm not authorized anymore?" Derpy bobbed in place.

"You were removed from the program."

"But I can visit?"

She was banned, but the first guard looked at the second. "She is married to the Doctor."

"Can you not touch anything?" 

Derpy nodded.

The first guard smiled at her. "Welcome back, Derpy."

The second guard glared at the first. "I'm checking with Mrs. Harshwinny."

"You can take me to her," Derpy said.

The second guard sighed. "Sure," and she waved for Derpy to follow.

Minutes later, they landed behind Mrs. Harshwinny who was absorbed in thought, staring at Spitfire who was struggling to affix a helmet to her head. Every time technicians attempted to mount it, Spitfire shied away.

"Whoa. Whoa there." A big strapping technician held up a hoof. "Follow the hoof, pay no attention to the mare behind your right ear--"

The mare behind Spitfire's right ear yelped in pain. "Don't nip me!"

"Sorry," Spitfire bit her lower lip. "Reflex."

"Doomed," Mrs. Harshwinny facehoofed and hung her head, whispering quieter the repeated word: "doomed."

"We could forgo the helmet and merely use the Device... the PPBBDD... instead of a helmet. If claustrophobia is a problem." Twilight Sparkle suggested. 

"There may be pressure problems," Mrs. Harshwinny said. "If the candidate cannot wear a helmet at all, the candidate may be depressurized during a descent or frozen in space. It may also be necessary during an emergency--if the Device ruptures and the ponynaut cannot properly convert space elements to oxygen, then nothing could be done."

"Of course.... but perhaps there is a way to create an alternative that solves those problems without the need for such a claustrophobia-inducing helmet. If ponies work around the clock--"

"The helmet is already clear glass, Princess," Mrs. Harshwhinny frowned. "We can solve many problems, but production of prototypes takes time. And refinement," Mrs. Harshwinny added. "I am not a materials mare though, so you may receive a more precise answer from Doctor Hooves. Still, several days is not enough time to change the designs. This helmet has been developed over months through much trial and error. The first versions cracked. Any other pressurization apparatus will be shaped different and may have unique gravitational stressors. If it breaks in space, there's likely to be no chance of fixing it, not even with duck tape.(Note 1)"





Note 1: Duct tape.





"Duck what?"

Mrs. Harshwinny held up a shiny roll of material. "Hooves invented it. We use it to tape up beams and sagging rods so ponies no longer need to duck. It also works to seal cracks. But only small ones. If the fracture is lengthwise--"

"Then there's nothing doing!" Derpy added.

"Yes. The original test pony had several shatter and in our vacuum simulator--speak of the devil!" Mrs. Harshwinny bolted slightly, then returned to glare at the gray mare. "What brings our lovely disastrous detector here?"

"I heard there was a problem. I want to help."

"You're out of the program. We have enough difficulties without you bringing up new ones."

"Should I escort her out?" The second guard asked. "We brought her here to see what you wanted to do with her."

The ponies inserted the Device in Spitfire's mouth and then placed the helmet over her head. She closed her eyes and breathed heavily. 

"Calm. Reduce your rate of oxygen intake. Imagine you're flying high."

"Mother bucking Celestia, you mother--" Spitfire hissed, a tinny sound outside of the glass helmet. Then she gulped in a couple of deep breaths.

"Try flying. That should calm you down."

"She's still having trouble with tight spaces?" Derpy asked.

"Yes, she is. How did you know?" Harshwinny demanded.

"The Doctor told me."

"Of course. You're married."

"Yep!"

"Weren't you a test pilot in the early stages, before our Government assumed control over the program?" Princess Twilight Sparkle asked.

"Indeed I was," Derpy shook Twilight's non-proffered hoof. "Been a long time since we've seen each other socially. Though we never were close friends. Not a particularly harmonious relationship, right? Ha-ha. How's the Princesspality doing? Spike? Shining Armor? Your friends?"

"Very well in all cases, I think," Twilight Sparkle said. "And as to my question?"

"Silly me." Derpy batted her forehead with a hoof. "Yes! I was a test pilot. But I didn't make the grade. Had an interview with the Missus here and it didn't go well, I guess. I don't always make the best impression when talking, you know." She grinned a goofy, self-deprecating smile. "But I know what happened to Soarin and Rainbow Dash... although I suppose everypony knows that. Sorry if that wasn't helpful. But I also know Lightning Dust has run into a bit of a dustup. I think. That's why you're practicing so much with Spitfire."

"I can't confirm or deny any of that," Twilight said.

"Nor do we need to. Please run along. Doctor Hooves should be at his usual workstation. Inside." Mrs. Harshwinny pointed toward the building.

"But I need to speak to Pony Resources. You. Right?" Derpy cocked her head at Mrs. Harshwinny.

"To what end?"

"I want to confirm my availability to participate in any necessary rescue."

"Dear," Mrs. Harshwinny looked at Derpy's protruding belly. "You weren't acceptable before and now you have other matters to focus on."

Derpy patted her mound very lightly and a tinge of pain coursed through her, which she knew wasn't something she should normally feel. "I'm... It's important to be friends to ponies and to be helpful. I think I can help. Maybe advise Spitfire on how to use the helmet. It's safe. She needs to know that. After all the iterations that broke with me, this one stuck. It's really good. She doesn't need to be afraid."

"If she doesn't listen to us, there's little chance she'd listen to you," Mrs. Harshwinny said.

"Sorry," Derpy cringed. "I need to... bathroom."

Mrs. Harshwinny rolled her eyes. "No need to return."

Derpy tried to ascend with her wings but the pain was too much and she alighted and trotted to the privies.

"Not like this isn't a matter of life and death or anything," Mrs. Harshwhinny sighed.





Spitfire took off on the scale test rocket and she made it to the stratosphere, wearing the hated helmet, blinking incessantly and heaving breaths. She alighted again after the short jaunt, took two steps and, red-faced, she collapsed.

Mrs. Harshwhinny looked at Twilight.

"We will do everything we can to prepare her."

Derpy peeked out the privies and saw Spitfire's fall. Then, with a wince of pain, Derpy hung her head and clutched her lower barrel. And she retreated.

I wish I'd called for a Doctor. Medical or spousal. But it probably wouldn't have changed much. Still, my mind was maybe too much on others who didn't seem to care too much for me.