Transition to warp space. And then sleep.
Transition to normal space. Then sleep.
Repeat.
Warp space, sleep.
Normal space, sleep.
And repeat. And again. And again.
And again.
The thing with space was that there’s a lot of it. And most of that space was empty. The only thing to do when travelling between stars was to sleep. That, or watch centuries old video recordings. Twilight alternated between the two activities for the past year. There was one time when she had accidentally combined them, but she tried to avoid that as much as possible.
Currently, she was staring intently at her primary display.
She watched as sunlight washed across every surface of the Crystal Empire. A pair of royal guards flanked Princess Twilight as she trotted along the radiant streets. She was only about a head taller than everyone around her, but the poise and grace with which she carried herself made her seem larger than life. Approaching the central concourse of the Empire, she walked past the crystal stallions standing at attention. She took one more step, before doubling back and—
“WARNING: FUEL LEVELS CRITICAL, 4.999%”
“Silence alarms,” Twilight said in irritation, refusing to turn away from the video. She already knew that her energy situation was less than ideal, and didn’t need her recordings interrupted with reminders.
“Continue playback.”
“WARNING: FUEL LEVELS CRITICAL, 4.998%”
“Disable all fuel alarms for 30 minutes!”
Frustrated, Twilight stamped a hoof down. The ringing impact startled her, and she quickly brought the offending foreleg to her chest. Her ears wilted as she frowned at the floor of her cockpit.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you, Harmony. I’m hungry too, you know? A year on half-rations of magic hasn’t done me any favors either.”
Her stomach growled as it was reminded of its poverty. The mana conduit that ran under her seat glowed dimly as she pulled a tiny bit of magic from it, just enough to keep her alive and conscious. It was enough to awaken her appetite, but didn’t sate her in any way. She reluctantly diverted the smallest amount to scan herself.
“Lethargy, fatigue, irritability. Fortunately, no major atrophy. Initial symptoms of dehydration?”
Prodding at herself, Twilight tried to check if she was actually thirsty. It didn’t feel that way, but her magic never lied to her before. She shrugged and stood up grudgingly. The water recycling system was a short walk away from the cockpit, but every single step was grueling and long. When she finally made it there, she briefly considered getting rid of the artificial gravity plating that lined the floors, if only it wouldn’t take even more effort. Instead, she put that energy into the task of turning a space-rated handle using only her hooves.
With a look of confusion, she stared as water fell from the opened valve. Twilight had never needed to drink anything on her ship, and usually had magic to help her whenever she wanted to.
“After years of preparation, with unlimited access to the Federation’s full manufacturing capabilities, I still forgot to bring cups. Well, at least no one is watching. Who needed dignity anyway?”
Twilight stuck her head under the flowing water, and drank from the stream. It was cold and crisp, and one of the best things she had ever tasted. It soaked her mane and dribbled down her chin. A bit ran along her neck and into her flight suit, but she didn’t care. She pulled back for a mere moment, to catch her breath.
She stared at the reflective wall in front of her, and an utterly disheveled mare stared back. Her mane was a disaster, heavily matted with water that dripped down the tangled strands. She ran a hoof through it and straightened it out as best as she could. It had been a mess yesterday, and would probably be a mess tomorrow, but at least her mane could take on some of its original beauty for today. After examining her efforts in the makeshift mirror, she grinned and threw herself back under the stream.
Fluttering her wings, Twilight relished in the feeling of water running over her feathers. She spun around and left no part of herself dry. After another moment of indulgence, she stepped back to take another drink. She closed her eyes and drank deep.
“WARNING: FLOODING DETECTED IN COMPARTMENT B. VENTING PROCEDURE INITIATED.”
Twilight choked in surprise, and sputtered in an attempt to clear the water from her lungs. She panicked, the sensation of near-drowning foreign to her, and teleported as much water as she could into the void. Immediately, she felt the depletion of her magic and collapsed as the doors locked around her.
“No! Emergency override!” Twilight said, between coughs. “Do NOT vent compartment B! I said I was sorry, Harmony! If you’re still angry at me, just say so.”
She stood up, shakily, and drew in magic to replace everything she just wasted. She took one last, hesitant sip of water from the mere trickle that still fell from the valve, before shutting it off. The doors opened after a few more seconds, and she stumbled back toward the cockpit.
“Ugh, that’s more than enough water for a lifetime,” she said. “That was bad. That was really bad. I’ll have to burn hydrogen to replace at least some of the water. Compound that with all the wasted magic, and it looks like we’ll fall short of our destination by… 2.7 light days.”
A secondary display came to life, filled with dancing numbers and nearly indecipherable characters. Twilight stared at the power distribution screen for a moment, before fiddling with a few sliders.
“No choice but to make the best of what we have left. Thermal regulation off; it might get a little chilly in here, but we’ll survive. Probably. Water management… well, there’s not much water left to manage. Let’s give it 5%. Life support: 30% power? That sounds like it might work. All of this brings us down to… 2.4 light days. Roughly two months of subluminal travel.”
With a loud click, Twilight pried the cover off a breaker panel and began flipping switches haphazardly. After turning the cockpit lights off, she had to fumble around with little more than the scintillating colors of warpspace for illumination.
“Compartment C, all systems off. Compartments E and F powered down. Rerouting magic to auxiliary stabilizers… I think? We’ll know in a few seconds otherwise. Secondary displays now offline. Primary display… can I—just let me finish this video. Delayed disconnect: 5 minutes.”
Twilight looked back up to the screen and smiled.
“Continue playback.”
Princess Twilight turned to one of the crystal guards, and approached him with an unreadable grin. Releasing a small amount of magic, the alicorn gave off an unearthly glow as she spread her wings to their fullest extent. She bowed her neck just enough to stare directly into the guard’s eyes. He stared back, impassively, as if one of the world’s most powerful beings wasn’t bearing down on him.
The contest of wills carried on for a short while, and neither opponent could find an advantage over the other. Then Twilight crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue.
The guard’s stoic gaze cracked with the slightest bit of imperfection. Twilight cheered in victory, having provoked a grin.
“Hah! I win, BBBFF!”
“Aw, Twily, how did you know it was me?” Shining Armor removed his helmet and dispelled his disguise. “I was undercover, trying to determine the state of the Empire’s military—”
He gave a quick wink.
“Which appears to be PITIFUL! Privates, at attention! Chins up! Backs straight! Straighter!”
Passing his gaze over his guards, Shining Armor looked for any imperfection at all. Having found none, he decided to single out the one at the center of the group. He flashed an apologetic smile that faded instantly.
“You there! I see a spot on that armor! You are currently in the presence of Equestrian HIGH ROYALTY! Before you stands Princess Twilight Sparkle, savior of the ENTIRE WORLD!”
He teleported in front of the guard and towered over him. The armor was spotless, of course, and his guards had always exceeded his high expectations, but Shining could never say that out loud. Instead, he returned to his shouting.
“She personally liberated you from the darkness 16 years ago, and as thanks you present a DIRTY CHESTPLATE? She is capable of erasing every trace of your sorry existence with just a single thought, and you dare to show disrespect? Get it cleaned on the double, or I’ll court martial you myself!”
Twilight caught up with her brother and watched the poor guard run off.
“Don’t be too harsh on them, Shiny. At least try not to tell them I can erase their existence. They’re new and impressionable.”
“Well, is it a lie?” Shining Armor smiled at his sister, but she only stared at her hooves and scuffed them against the crystalline road. Immediately, he transitioned into a pout.
“Twily… I’m sorry. Come over here and give your big bro a hug. I promise I won’t tell them that again.”
Twilight fell into her brother’s embrace and relaxed. The sharpness of her eyes, the stiffness of her spine, the neatness of her wings, all the little things that made her truly seem like a princess faded for just a brief moment. She even seemed quite comfortable while craning her neck into the hug.
“Thanks, Shiny. It’s good to finally see you again.”
“Same to you. Geez, you’ve grown tall. It’s going to take some getting used to, being the shorter one now. I hope you don’t expect me to start calling you big sis any time soon.”
“Oh, I’d never do such a thing, little brother,” Twilight said. Shining Armor groaned in response.
“Come on, let’s go. Everypony will be so happy to see you again! Cadence has been talking about your visit non-stop for the past week. Little Flurry is excited too, even if she tries to hide it.”
The two continued down the road, followed by their motley mix of guards. The street continued to shine under the midday sun. Twilight could almost feel the pavement under her hooves, as the sound of cheerful conversation retreated into the distance. She leaned back into her seat, to reminisce, until the screen faded out.
Twilight closed her eyes for a moment, and opened them to the beautiful black of space. She tapped on her command console once, and settled into her seat as her ship gently shifted around. After a final glance at her status displays, she turned them off and gave her chest a quick tap.
“Journal #418. Hey girls, just checking in for another daily entry. Nothing to report… not like there’s an abundance of news out here. Though, I did just almost drown myself under a space faucet. Wasted a lot of magic too, so it looks like we’ll be taking the two month scenic route. There should be enough magic to make it to the next star, but that doesn’t leave much for me. I might be able to scrounge up enough for a hibernation spell though.”
She grabbed her pen and a dusty notepad, as old as the Harmony itself, and began to idly sketch the components of the spell. Satisfied with her work, Twilight spat the pen out and flipped to an earlier page. She frowned, briefly, before resetting her expression; this was all just an attempt to delay the more difficult conversation.
“I crunched all the numbers. It’s not like I had anything better to do out here. Early on in my explorations, I noticed a trend: the closer to the center of the galaxy I got, the more magic I could find. It’s remarkably consistent, even in the void of interstellar space. Well, I came up with a plan – but this is actually the first time I’m telling anyone about it, so the details aren’t really finalized. Though, the plan itself is still here.”
Twilight rested a hoof on her diagrams, reverently. She let out a sigh, and ran her other hoof through her mane. Realizing that it was already impeccably straight, she froze half-way through the motion. The awkward pause passed, as Twilight continued with excessive cheer.
“Anyway, back on topic! I wasn’t sure at first, but all my models seem to agree. Of course, mana tends to gather in any gravity well. But the maximum magical field density increases hyperbolically as you approach the center of the galaxy. My current theory is that there’s an unimaginably large reservoir of manic just waiting for us there.” She lifted up her forehooves and held them just a short distance apart.
“Out there, there’s more magic in this small volume than there is in the entire Federation. There’s enough to… well, I’ll have to figure that part out. I might use an enormous time-travel spell. Or maybe create an alternate universe. I wonder what it would take to make an entirely new one from scratch.”
Flipping to a new page, Twilight reached for her pen—
With an empty mouth, she glared at the console her pen had rolled under. She settled with drafting the patterns of magic using her imagination instead. With her memory, it was functionally the same as drawing them out on paper, but far less satisfying. The physical act of working through a problem gave a visceral sense of accomplishment, and skipping that part just made everything feel hollow. Twilight abandoned her half-hearted attempt after a few minutes.
“Well girls, that’s all for now. I’ll be skipping the next few entries. Have to take a two month nap to stave off insanity and starvation and whatnot. I’ll… see you again someday.”
With one final click, the last of her tiny lights faded out.
.
The fragrance of tea mingled with the smell of oak. Twilight and Celestia were gathered around a steaming kettle while enjoying the numerous books around them. Hours passed as if they were seconds, while the two read in comfortable silence.
Twilight turned to discuss her most recent passage with Celestia, only to catch Luna sneaking through the front door of the Golden Oaks Library. She stared, confusedly, and Luna returned the perplexed gaze. It was a few awkward moments until Celestia finally spoke up.
“Sister dearest! ‘Tis great that thou—you could join us!”
Luna winced and gave Twilight a sidelong glance, before responding.
“Ah, yes. I… was in the area and wished to catch up with you two.”
The entire exchange seemed wooden, poorly rehearsed or perhaps merely uncertain. Twilight shrugged it off as an artifact of her overly active imagination, and cheerfully invited Luna in for some tea. She watched her visibly relax as she sat down at the table.
“So, Luna, how’ve you been? It’s been months since we last talked,” Twilight said as she took a sip from her cup.
“Months? – Oh, everything has been good. Good, very good.” Without warning, Luna wrapped both hooves and wings around Twilight and pulled her close.
“It’s so good to see you again.”
“By the stars, you’re acting like we haven’t seen each other in years. Don’t worry, I’m not going… anywhere…”
Twilight pushed herself out of Luna’s embrace, and backed a few paces away for good measure.
“This is another dream,” she stated. She prodded Celestia with her hoof, who then disappeared into a cloud of stardust. “None of this is real. None of it. But…”
Twilight turned to Luna with a growing sense of dread. She pressed a hoof to the interloper’s chest, confirming her hypothesis. The instant it made contact with the cold metal of her regalia, she pulled it back and scrambled away. “But… you are. But that’s… how is… no, impossible!”
“Twilight, please just –”
“No, stay back!” She charged her horn and let a wave of light wash over her.
Twilight blinked repeatedly in an attempt to clear away the pure white that dominated her vision. She squinted and shaded her eyes with a hoof, and was finally able to see past the enormous spotlights shining upon her. They dimmed simultaneously, and gave way to a sea of flashing cameras. The next thing Twilight noticed was the endless waves of questions from the crowd. That must have been why her heart was racing – a news conference always put her on edge.
“Princess Twilight! Princess Twilight!” The shouting of a blue mare rang clear, audible from across the entire room. “What words of wisdom would you like to pass onto Equestria?”
“Well, if you read through my reports, you’ll notice a lot of worlds out there are utterly devoid of life in any way. It’s lonely out here, among the stars. Every bit of life is like a gem, shining in the darkness that is space. We must cherish and protect all life, both out there and within the Federation, for it is rare and delicate. Next question, from the stallion in blue.”
“Thank you very much. Chandra, from the Canterlot Times. Is there anything you wish to say, that you have left out of your reports?”
“As far as I can tell, we are alone in the galaxy. We, sentient creatures originating from the planet Caballus, are the only intelligent beings that I know of. However, I have a little pet theory. I have come across some pieces of technology, primitive compared to modern Equestrian science, but still quite advanced. Something must have created that technology. We are alone now, but there have been people travelling among the stars long before us. I have no reason to doubt that people will follow after us when we are gone.”
Twilight shifted uncomfortably. One day, other beings from a different planet will look to her stars for inspiration. They may even travel among them. But there is no reason for them to go into that darkness alone. She filed the thought away for the future, and called for another question from a mare with a blue mane. The entire crowd seemed to quiet down to listen to her.
“Now that you have once again revolutionized modern science, will you be coming back home?”
“No, I don’t think I ever will.”
“Then what are your plans now?”
Twilight pondered for a moment. The question was innocuous enough, but she never prepared an answer for it. She shrugged, and decided to ad lib it.
“Short term or long term? In the short term, I have an urgent need for fuel. I’m still some distance from a nearby star. It’s the last one before I’ll be able to jump to the Horseshoe Nebula. From there, I should finally be able to fill up and continue on at full speed. In the long term…”
“Go on,” the reporter gently prompted her.
“In the long term, once I reach the center of the galaxy–”
“Collision Course!” The reporter cut off Twilight. The two stared at each other, equally bewildered. The reporter opened her mouth, but lost control over the words that came out. “Warning: Collision Course! Warning: Collision Course!”
“WARNING: COLLISION COURSE.”
Twilight would have launched herself into the ceiling if it weren’t for the restraints holding her in her seat. With a few waves of her hoof, the ship came back to life. She still had a few minutes to perform the necessary correction maneuvers, but the sooner the better. She checked over her numbers and promptly slammed her head into the control console. Repeatedly.
“Not enough fuel for orbital insertion, not enough fuel to make the jump, not enough time to passively gather enough fuel. Well, Harmony, looks like we’re going star diving. Re-engage manual controls.”
She grabbed the deployed yoke and stared straight ahead, smiling. The memory of her mother lecturing her not to stare at the sun wormed its way through her mind. Her ascension rendered the lesson moot, but she dipped her head to offer a silent apology. After a few more moments, she bowed her head farther and lit her horn.
“Alright! Atmospheric entry in 10, manual controls responding, manual shield…”
Twilight stared into the magenta glow that stretched across the window. It flared as roiling plasma washed over it, but that only reinforced the colors that flooded her cockpit.
“Manual shield is holding! Fuel scoop running, 32% and rising. Reactor running at full efficiency!”
Beads of sweat rolled down Twilight’s forehead. She slammed the throttle forward with a manic grin. Her entire body was flung against her seat, but she barely even blinked.
“And engines running at maximum power!” She wiped at her brow, and was launched to the left as her ship hit the edge of a convection cell. Her shield flickered for a moment and some solar flames licked at the window. “Whoop! Guess it’s time for us to leave now.”
Twilight let out a cheer as she trailed plasma out of the star. She released her death grip on the control column and struggled to bring her breathing under control. She unbuckled her restraints and stood up on shaky legs. Turning around, she looked at the edge of the star she just passed through
“Well… hah… tit for tat, I guess. You gave me a full tank of fuel, it’s only fair I give you something back in return.”
The cockpit filled with the glow of magic, as Twilight charged a few teleportation spells on a truly enormous level. She flung her head forward and let out a roar. The star behind her ship pulsed a bit, as if it were satisfied. Twilight happily collapsed to the floor after seeing the success of her spell.
“There, brought extra fuel into your core, and got some of that degenerate matter out. That should last you an extra million years. It might mess up stellar evolution sequences around here, but services rendered to the crown are always compensated fairly.”
Twilight climbed back into her seat and sat as straight as the adrenaline still coursing through her veins would allow. After another moment to catch her breath, she shouted.
“Set course, full speed to the Horseshoe Nebula!”