//------------------------------// // First Part of the Journey // Story: Star Sickness // by boardgamebrony //------------------------------// The Earth is a bright ball of fading light in my viewport and I’m drifting backwards towards the end of my life. I’m sitting here, typing this into the console as some consolation that maybe, just maybe, someone will read this. This is the flight journal of Equinaut A.J., Captain of the Starsong. I stopped using my full name. It reminds me too much of my family back home. Right now, I’m typing out my emotions, trying my best to think of something positive, something inspiring, and all I can remember is that my friends always seemed to think I wasn’t as smart as everyone else. They’ll never read these words. Never know all the thoughts in my head and all the hopes and dreams I’ve had. Just because I’m a farm girl, doesn’t mean I don’t have dreams. And here I am…a pilot of an interstellar exploration ship, forging my way into the stars. I thought…I would have partners on this journey. Two others to share the years that will pass by… It hurts too much to think about that right now. Equinaut D. Diamond and Equinaut Spitfire were hit by the affliction coursing its way through the planet right now. There’s no way they could’ve been of any use. No way they could’ve done anything but spread the sickness to me too. So the Equestria Space Corps had to do everything they could to train me in all the other components of the mission that usually required more than one individual to function. There wasn’t much I didn’t know. I had taken the time to learn everything possible, just in case the others needed my help. Now, I would be the only one on a mission to reach the end of the solar system, in hopes of finding an answer to the problem that plagued our planet. So many had already perished…thousands of citizens in the capital city of my home nation succumbed to the sickness weeks after its first appearance. My hometown went into lockdown. My family… No, not thinking about them. They’re not here. Not thinking about them. Focus on the mission again… Top Equestrian scientists discovered a set of anomalies at the edge of our solar system. They hailed from the planetoid Pluto and its moon Charon. Something on those frozen rocks caught their attention. When they analyzed them, the data suggested that the source of the sickness on Earth was related to the anomalies on both those rocks. Back home, they found the same components in meteorites that they discovered from the data about the anomalies, suggesting that something came from Pluto, Charon, or both, made its way across the solar system, and impacted on Earth. Soon after, the plague spread wherever the meteorites were found. Scientists found they could contain the disease, but soon after, more meteorites came. And then more. They kept appearing. Something is happening out there on the rim of known space and whatever it is, it’s targeting us with deadly precision. I am the only hope at stopping the disease at its source. It’s a lot of pressure. Heh. Normally a trip like this would take nine and a half years, but top Equestrian scientists did everything they could to maximize fuel capacity using their magitech-inspired creations. They were able to drop the travel time to a mere one year, two months and fourteen days. But… There’s always a “but.” I would never be able to come back home. All the fuel is meant for a one way trip. I won’t be able to go back. And if I somehow managed to point myself in the right direction after losing all fuel, the drift through space would take me so long that I’d pass away long before I even reached Neptune. I…I don’t want to die. But… This is hard. I think I need to stop for a moment. --- I lost contact with Command a few days ago. Before the signal cut off, I sent them several bits of my writing. I wanted whatever friends were still alive back home to read what I was going through and know that I would do everything in my power to save them. I love you all and I’m going to do this for you. Whoever’s left. Last time I asked, Command told me that nearly 25% of the national population had died due to the Star Sickness. Their bodies…they faded away like stars floating into space… How do you fight that?! How? It isn’t fair! I mean, the body can repair itself against viruses and bacteria and micro-organisms, but to see those cells turn to gas and dust? How can we fight that? This is a nightmare! This universe is so uncaring to have such a monstrous creation afflict us all. At least…at least the doctors said they don’t feel pain during the worst of it. They just… I’m sorry. --- I haven’t been keeping track of what date it is. I have to be better about that. According to the onboard digital calendar, it has been three weeks since I left Earth. Only twenty-one days. I still have a little over thirteen months left in my trip and I can’t imagine how I’ll make it through all of this. I have enough food. Shoot, I have enough food for almost five years since they originally planned to sustain three Equinauts for 1.5 years. I bet I could train myself to eat less and make it last even longer. The food was never the problem. The fuel is the issue and always has been. I only have enough fuel to reach Pluto, perform a series of maneuvers fora month, and then get to Charon and do the same for another thirty days. Once, on Charon. I’ll be stuck on that frozen rock for however long till my food runs out. This is my life. This is the rest of my life. I could die tomorrow. I could live five years or more. But whatever happens…I’ll never see another living being again. I wish I could type out the pain of that realization. I wish I could fully express it, knowing I’ll never spend another birthday with those who care or…or… I hate this. I wish they had just given me some comfort object. Some stuffed doll or something to hold. All I have are these pillows. I hold one close sometimes and pretend its someone special, telling me I’m going to be okay. No one’s here to judge me. In fact…I don’t know why I even write this, knowing that. I’m the only one that’s ever going to read them. Unless someone finds these writings long after I’m gone. Oh how wonderful it would be to be rescued a few years into this mission. To make it to the end of the supplies and in that final moment, see someone swoop down and rescue me. Can technology advance that far in only a few years? Will anyone be left to advance it? Maybe. But even if they did, why send a rescue party to retrieve me? I’m just one Equinaut. I knew what I was signing up for when I started the training. Knew I’d be saying goodbye to everyone. I’m holding the pillow close now. I should give it a name. I don’t know what though. --- It talked. I’m not joking. I heard an audible response to a question I posed out loud. In order to keep myself focused, I like to talk aloud while I’m working. Sometimes, I’ll direct my question towards the pillow. I think it helps me forget for a brief moment that I’m alone. But this time, I asked a question and the pillow talked. Here, let me run through what happened. I was looking through the old pictures of home. I wanted to see my old family farm and I was thinking “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be down there again? Feeling the dirt beneath my steps and the smell of the fresh cut grass wafting through the orchard?” I visualized myself walking there, but it had to have been only a minute or two. I want to point out I wasn’t tired, so I wasn’t likely to have nodded-off. And I’ve been eating well. I mean well enough considering the food options I have. So I don’t feel weak or malnourished. I thought I saw the orchard in the distance, through the viewport. Kinda like…as if the scene was overlaid on top of the starfield moving all around the ship. It’s hard to explain. Almost like a projection in a movie theatre. So I said, out loud “Will you look at that. I think I’m starting to hallucinate about home. I can see my farm outside the window.” And then, without warning, the pillow spoke the following words “You’re not hallucinating.” Now, to be fair, if a pillow tells me I’m not hallucinating, then I feel it’s important to question its credibility. Pillows don’t talk. It doesn’t have a voice box and I know it’s not robotic. It’s filled with memory foam and covered in durable stain-resistant cloth (I drool while sleeping. Don’t judge). It has a zipper to seal the foam component of the pillow inside the cloth sleeve. That’s it. There’s nothing more to it. Hold on. I’m looking at the pillow right now. It’s not doing anything. Well…it’s floating, because there’s no gravity here. But it’s not doing anything else. I want to ask it a question, but I’m scared it’ll answer. Maybe…maybe I should just wait it out. Silently. --- I woke up crying. I had to start journaling right away. I dreamt I was over a planet. It might have been Pluto (I’m not having that argument right now that’s it not really a planet. No one is here to argue otherwise). I hovered over the frozen world and stared down onto the lifeless fields of ice below. I saw valleys of ice which defied some of the images we’d taken of Pluto before. Those valleys couldn’t have existed when the flyby of our probe happened. Something made them. And I saw what it was. An opening into the planet stood before me. I hovered over it and I saw…ah it hurts… I saw all their faces coming at me. All the faces of those who had gone. It’s like they were there, on that icy world, alone and lifeless, with eyeless expressions just as cold as the planet itself. I woke up yelling and held my pillow tightly. I cried for a while until it told me everything would be okay. After that, I felt better. --- I keep seeing something in the corner of my eyes. Like some small movement. Skittering of some sort. I check the cameras recording the interior of the ship and spot nothing on them. “Did you see that?” I asked Pillowstia. “No. Nothing,” the pillow responds. It doesn’t have any eyes, so I can’t really trust it. Then again, it doesn’t have a mouth, so it’s hard to trust what it says. Maybe it did see something and didn’t want to say anything so I wouldn’t worry. But I am worrying. “Do you want to cuddle for an hour tonight?” I asked. “I’m feeling really bad.” “That’s fine,” she responded. “You’ve been working really hard. You deserve a break.” She is really nice to me. It’s good to have someone who’s looking out for my well-being. The cuddling was fun. Technically still is. I’m typing with her in my arms right now. She doesn’t have any arms herself, but she’s really good with words. Tells me I’m doing an amazing job and that I’m the bravest pony she’s ever known. I don’t want to bring up that’s she’s probably never met another pony since she’s lived her whole life in this ship, but I do appreciate her flattery. She’s such a sweetheart. --- The mirrors are…wrong. I don’t know how else to say it. It’s been three months on this journey and I can’t stand looking at the mirrors anymore. When I stare at them for a long period of time, the eyes that look back feel off. I’m scared they’ll blink when I don’t. I’m scared they’ll move ever so slightly off to the side, as though they were looking at something directly behind me. You’d think I’d feel safe looking into a mirror. If anything was behind me, I’d be able to see it. It…doesn’t seem to work that way anymore. Sometimes I see things that aren’t there. Sometimes I don’t see things that are there. I can’t trust the mirrors anymore. They don’t spot the small skittery things on the edges of my vision. They don’t help my pillow friend in any meaningful way, since she’s just a featureless pillow. No. No that’s not true. I swear I’m seeing an indention in the foam. Something pushing through the cloth. Like a set of features I didn’t see before. Like…a face. I think she’s trying to get out. I know how she feels. I want out to, but I have a job to do. Can’t leave the ship until we get to Pluto. Thankfully, I haven’t had to do a spacewalk yet. --- I swear to you I just passed a planet. The external cameras didn’t see much of anything save for the distant stars of space, but I saw something. There was this wide and dark mass of space which blotted out the stars in one region of my vision. I thought black hole at first, but then realized there are no black holes in this part of our solar system. And I would experience all sorts of strange phenomenon if that were the case. No, this was a circular dead zone where no stars existed. But I could swear I detected the form of a planet with my own two eyes. The space around this region was wavy, like a haze trying to settle and yet never fully forming. I wanted to reach out and touch the edges, but the glass of the viewport was in the way. I know better than to go spacewalking next to a potential planet. The tether might break and then I’d be stranded in space and my mission would end in failure. But it was so magnificent in its nothingness. A dark planet is still a planet, even if it can’t be seen by the naked eye. At least, not unless you’re really close. Good thing I had enough thrust in the engines to push me away from it. I didn’t have to adjust anything. The engines themselves just kept going. Guess this was a small planet with very little gravity. I’m just glad I didn’t run into it. It was so close… ---