The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy has many omissions, and as a general rule the only way to be sure that it contains an article on any specific subject, is to make sure that said subject revolves around something the guide staff are actually interested in. As such, the article on the fantastically dangerous planet Sirenium V does not note the fact that the beautiful women broadcasting requests for company and judges for bikini contests have an unfortunate tendency to tear any intrepid or lonely explorers into several thousand pieces, apparently for the fun of it. Instead, it goes into rather disturbing anatomical detail, and the article ends half way through a sentence.
One article that could do with rather more information is the article on the unconscious self-defence mechanisms that most evolved races develop, such as the production of adrenaline when scared. Quite what any species will do when exposed to absolute psychological torture, such as the reading of Vogon fanfiction, is difficult to predict without extensive experience. Twilight Sparkle is a unicorn of significant power, and her brain, right about the eighth contradictory element and the fifteenth overlong description, let the magic take over, in a desperate attempt to save her sanity. She managed to extend the magical field to take in her nearest friends, it’s just a shame three weren't close enough.
*
There was a brilliant flash of purple light, momentarily illuminating the recital room, and its many chairs and restraining devices. As the light faded, Jeltz put down the page and peered around through his small, piggy eyes. What they saw did not please them, and the report sent to the brain had the hormonal equivalent of “don't shoot the messenger” attached to it. Three of the ponies, and that little reptilian thing had vanished. He blinked, then felt a thrill of satisfaction. He was about to get angry.
“Who tied the prisoners up?”
His voice was dangerous, and it was clear that answering would be almost as fatal as not answering. A young Vogon, too new to know what to expect, raised a hand.
“Your vastness, that was left to...” he never got further than that, as Jeltz had just, in some small way, made the universe a better place.
“NO SNITCHING” he snarled, lowering the gun. “And if nobody tells me exactly who did this, ALL of you will die.”
Internally he almost smiled. This was fun. One of the Vogons suddenly became aware of a spreading pool of space around him. Novogon seemed to be moving, but certainly he was left alone in the room. He was very aware of the keycards on his belt, and the barrel of the gun, now pointed at his head. His brain, which due to the unique nature of Vogon evolution was a malformed liver, worked faster than it had done ever before. Unfortunately, this was not saying much, promotion in Vogon society being based more on stubbornness and anger than anything, and his brain was very shortly on display, very viscerally indeed. The ponies left watching were frankly relieved that this was all they had to witness, as at least the fanfic seemed to have been put on hold. Some of those sex scenes had been graphic. Jeltz Gestured at them.
“Throw these inferior ponies out of the nearest airlock immediately, the others can’t have gone far.”
Rough hands grasped Rainbow, Fluttershy and Rarity and hustled them out of the door. Jeltz picked a piece of liver spotted brain tissue off his weapon, and snorted in derision. His crew were learning how to avoid giving him even the slightest excuse to pick on them. Soon he would have to have them promoted, so they could have new things to get wrong.
*
The Hitchhiker’s Guide states that evolution simply gave up on the Vogons, apparently from pure disgust. This is not technically true, it is truer to say that the concept of self improvement was not a wise thing to have on Vogsphere. Friendship might be magic in many places, but in Vogon terms, a good friend was someone no better than you. Any Vogon demonstrating Honesty, Generosity, Kindness, Laughter, Loyalty or even Magic would have been immediately and brutally disposed of. As for physical improvements? Forget about it. So, Vogons remained as they were for as long as it took to invent plastic surgery and space travel, and by then had become so good at bickering, stubbornness and pedantry that they very quickly rose near to the top of both the political and bureaucratic ladders in the galaxy. Indeed, there remains only one politician in the entire galaxy with no influence from Vogons, and he has been locked in a stasis field for many centuries and as such is in no position to do anything positive.
*
Twilight, Applejack, Pinkie and Spike meanwhile, found themselves in another cabin, somewhere else on the ship. All except Twilight had minor burns from the magical teleport, which although more pleasant than a scientifically achieved one, would singe the unprepared in transit. Twilight collapsed. Applejack was immediately on her feet, and with a grunt balanced the lilac pony on her back.
Spike was trembling. “Twilight?”
“She’s ok young’n, she just tired herself out is all.” The earth pony looked around. “Now where in tarnation‘re the others?”
Pinkie Jumped to her hooves “They must have been left behind! Behind with those big ol’ meany Vogons! They’ll throw them off the ship! We have to get to an escape pod and pick them up as they get blasted out! Come on!”
She galloped down the hall, Applejack keeping pace, Spike puffing along behind.
“But Pinkie!” he gasped “What the hell is an escape pod?”
*
The others had been roughly thrown into a small room. Fluttershy stared around wide eyed.
“Um.”
Rainbow pounded at the door; “Lemme out, I’ll take all of you on!” She had momentarily forgotten how easily she had been subdued, and was ready to fight tooth and hoof to face the Vogons down. For once, Rarity was ignoring the greasy handmarks on her previously perfect coat. Her magic was geared for precision, enchantment, beauty. She could create dazzling illusions, light shows and many other things, but when it came to brute strength, such as punching through foot thick steel, she was out of luck. But she could feel electricity in the air. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Somehow, the computational language spoke to her well. Well, a Vogon ship didn’t speak well. It spoke in the sort of voice geared to yell obscene compliments to other passing ships, causing them to blush and hurry on.
It was the computational equivalent of a drunken lout who is just smart enough to get away with any number of petty offences. She thought she could hear the right command for open though. It’s a shame really how badly she got it wrong; this was a good show of skill from a pony from a place which had barely any computers, and indeed from a pony unused to anything more complex than a sewing machine. the Open command she pulsed out was not as specific as would have been wise, and every door in fifty metres responded as though they had been waiting for the command. Including the airlock behind them.
Technically even a moderately talented unicorn could summon enough power to keep a pony from asphyxiating in deep space, and most earth ponies were hardy enough due to their own untapped magic (see Magical Beings, later chapter) to survive there almost indefinitely. That is, if the ponies had extensive training, willpower and self control. But training is famously difficult to obtain within thirty seconds of being blasted from an airlock, and that really is the most important of the three in this context. Luckily for them, the commandeered escape pod will pick them up within a mere four seconds. Hopefully this is enough good news to tide you over the bad news that they were not, in fact, picked up. For the briefest flash of time, and by the most amazing coincidence, a great white ship appeared around the jettisoned ponies, and when it vanished, it left only a few random objects floating in the ether. As it was, the pod did not collect anything more than a large supply of rubber ducks, a small sentient pudding named Charles and a perfect scale model of Manehatten composed of mouldy butter. None of which, in the circumstances, were in the least useful or comforting. At least they might inform a certain pink pony what exactly has just picked her friends up, and that they are most likely safe, if utterly confused.
*
Aboard the Heart of Gold, a boyish voice complained;
“Fluttershy, you’re turning into a tree, stop it!”