> The Music of the Spheres
>  by MrBossMan
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Astromancy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's note: A* is pronounced "A-star"

        Bigger.
Yes, it was definitely getting bigger.
        Well... or closer. Or both. But regarding perspective, it was getting bigger.
There was no doubt of that, now. Twilight had been checking the sky periodically for the past five hours, just to be completely sure that she wasn’t seeing things. And as she did she had looked through every astronomical manuscript on hoof in a desperate attempt to discern just what it was that was getting bigger. None of them contained any useful information.
It had all started at around ten o’clock. Twilight had set aside some time for leisurely stargazing before bed that night, as she made sure to do once every few weeks for personal reasons. It gave her a chance to get better acquainted with the night sky, and the deep reaches of the universe far beyond Celestia’s influence. Not to mention she was running out of time to see Antares, and there was no way she was going to miss that!
It was while viewing the area near Sagittarius--roughly the galactic center--that she noticed something odd. The normally rather uniform star cluster in that region seemed strangely warped. Twilight methodically checked each of the lenses and mirrors in her telescope for imperfections, but found none. She looked again, and then once more through her refracting telescope, and once again saw the disturbance. And, what was more, the stars being affected seemed to be creeping away from each other, as if opening up to allow something through. The motion was hardly noticeable, like the path of planets against the starscape, but visible to a careful eye, and Twilight was sure she saw it.
It was growing late, and the library was supposed to open at eight o'clock sharp the next morning, but this was important. It wouldn’t be the first time the unicorn had pulled a spontaneous all-nighter for whatever reason, and it wasn’t like she would be able to sleep now anyway. Not without figuring out that anomaly.
Minutes viewing the object grew into hours. Books and hastily-scribbled notes piled upon the desk, then the floor. Before Twilight realized it, the clock on the wall showed three in the morning, she had drained her fifth mug of coffee, and the thing in the sky had grown at least one whole arc-minute in apparent size. Yet she still had no clue what it was.
        Well, she did have some information. She had come to recognize the distortion as gravitational lensing, which resulted from a very massive object bending light around itself and warping the view of whatever was behind it. And there was a commonly accepted theory that the center of the galaxy--exactly where she had been looking--contained a supermassive black hole known as Sagittarius A*, around which the rest of the Milky Way orbited. But the central axis of the entire galaxy wouldn’t simply decide to move toward Earth on a whim, and even if so there’s no way it could have gained that much speed that quickly with its huge amount of inertia. Nor could it have grown any larger; all its satellites were relatively stable, so it hadn’t consumed any of them, and the Law of Conservation of Matter stated that it couldn’t just spontaneously obtain mass.
        So the anomaly had to be something else. But what?
        … Twilight had absolutely no clue. And there was probably only one pony alive who was better acquainted to the night sky than she--and definitely only one who would know more about it than any book in her library.
        “Owloysius!”
        The owl turned his head 180 degrees from his perch by the window.
        “Take a letter.”
        “Who?” he asked.
        “To whom,” Twilight corrected.
If owls had been physically capable of rolling their eyes, Owloysius would have liked to do so. Instead, being a helpless slave to biology, he had to settle for a blank stare.
“Princess Luna, please. Celestia is asleep by no-” The unicorn looked at the time. “... Isn’t awake yet. Besides, I’m sure the famously neglected night goddess would be delighted to be getting mail at this hour.”
It had been quite a chore to teach Owloysius to write with his talons. His penmanship was still far from perfect, but through several years of working with Spike, Twilight had grown accustomed to dictating her letters. Otherwise, they sounded awkward and usually contained several scratched-out sentences--not at all befitting for royalty. The chicken-, or owl-scratch, was a worthy tradeoff for more flowing diction.
Thus, a clear and concise description of the situation was penned and addressed to the currently-waking Princess, attached to some more technical notes on the subject. The whole bundle was rolled, bound, and stamped with an Omega rune to direct the translocational magicks about to be used.
Twilight levitated it as she stepped out onto her balcony. Channeling her spectral energies and touching her horn to a corner of the parchment, she lit a magical fire which quickly began to consume it. The ash was carried by an aether wind up toward Mount Avalon and into Canterlot Palace.
It was then that a quickly growing light consumed the sky behind Twilight’s head. She whipped around just in time to see a fierce blue-white fireball burn through the atmosphere above Ponyville, flashing north toward Canterlot. Multiple sonic booms, trailed by a prolonged ear-splitting roar, filled the air.
           As the meteorite neared Mount Avalon, it slowed considerably, orbited the mountain exactly five times, and entered the Royal Palace just as harmlessly as Twilight’s letter had moments before.
The unicorn might as well have knelt over and pawed at the ground to search for her dropped jaw. That had literally been the single most implausible thing she had ever seen happen. She guessed that it may have been the most implausible thing ever to have happened period.
Had she just witnessed a UFO?! No, it wasn’t flying anymore... Just a UO, then? Well, by definition it was an object, and at the very least she hadn’t identified it, so it met all of the qualifications. But UFOs were the stuff of urban legends and crackpot conspiracy theories. There had to be a reasonable explanation for this...
A wizard did it! Maybe it was a Guided Bolide spell... but those can’t be thrown at anywhere near supersonic speeds, and at that sort of distance there was no way the caster would be able to guide it so precisely. What if it was imbedded with a low-level Come-to-Life enchantment? Such a thing had never been attempted before, but theoretically...
Twilight’s thoughts were interrupted as a cloud of magically glowing ash floated in front of her face and coalesced into a letter. She unfurled it and eagerly read, hoping for some answers to her many questions.

Twilight Sparkle,
An astute observation, but we already know of this matter. Takest thyself and thy friends to Canterlot on the morrow--ye must arrive by midday. All will become clear then, but be forewarned: it may not be to thy liking.

With urgency,
        HRH Princess Luna.
P.S. Get thee to bed. Thy penscript is nigh-illegible.
> Apollyon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

        Twilight Sparkle shifted nervously in her seat, watching the meager silhouette of Ponyville recede into the distance. Spike had unwittingly allowed her to oversleep, which meant that she and her friends had left a good ninety minutes later than she would have liked them to. The unicorn couldn’t help but wonder whether their tardiness would net only disapproval from the Princess, or instead something far worse for the fate of Equestria.
“Well?” 
        Twilight, wide-eyed, turned from the window to see Rainbow Dash staring expectantly at her. In fact, all of her friends were doing so. “... Oh.” In her hurry she had avoided telling them exactly why they were going to Canterlot until they had gotten on the train, saying she would explain on the way. She still hadn’t said anything. 
        “Well,” the unicorn began, “last night I was stargazing, and I noticed this really weird distortion in the sky. I think it might have been a faraway black hole, but I’m not sure. I sent a letter to Luna about it, detailing all of my observations. She sent back this.” A scroll levitated from the saddlebag sitting next to her. It hovered to Applejack, who read it aloud to everypony. 
        “So that’s it?” said the earth pony when she was finished. “Ya don’t know anything else?” 
        “Not really.” Twilight shrugged, then looked thoughtful. “Well, actually...” 
        “Yes?” Rarity prompted.
        “Right after I sent the letter, a fireball flew across Ponyville and into Canterlot Palace.”
        “What?!” said almost everyone at once.
        “Oh, it didn’t crash into it or anything. It just kind of... slowed down and went around a few times. Then it just floated into an open window, almost like my letter.” Twilight smiled sheepishly, realizing that she wasn’t making much sense.
        All five of the other ponies were speechless for a moment. Pinkie Pie was the first to speak up. “Wait, was that the big boomy rumbly sound this morning?”
        “Oh, I heard that as well,” said Rarity. “I wondered what was making such a dreadful noise--it was a beautifully clear night last night, not a cloud in the sky. There’s no thunder scheduled for days.”
        “Do you know what it was?” Fluttershy asked, directing the attention of the group back to Twilight.
        “Umm... I think I’ve decided that it was an enchanted meteor of some sort. It went too fast and too far for it to have just been a spell cast by a unicorn--plus, even though I didn’t get a good look at it, I think it was too big, too. So I followed an old axiom of reason: ‘Once you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however unlikely, must be the truth.’”
        “But who would enchant a big rock?” asked Pinkie.
        “And how?” Rarity added.
        “That’s what I’m not sure about,” Twilight replied. “Who, how, why--there’s no logical answer. What kind of pony would send a cosmic fireball slowly and safely into the Palace? Was it just to demonstrate how powerful they are?”
        “What if they were trying to kill the Princesses?” Rainbow Dash posited.
        “Yeah!” Pinkie Pie concurred. “There’s probably a lot of baddies who would want to hurt them!”
        Twilight shook her head. “No, that can’t be it. Not only could either of them stop it pretty easily, but they’re immortal--they can’t be killed, anyway.”
        “M-Maybe it was d-dragon fire?” Fluttershy stuttered nervously.
        “Dragons can’t guide their fire like that, especially not from a distance. There would need to be a unicorn nearby to enchant it or guide it, and that makes just about as much sense as the meteor idea. You girls have experienced it first-hoof: most dragons aren’t very friendly toward ponies.”
        “Now wait a second,” Applejack said. “Did this all happen before or after Luna sent the letter?”
        Twilight thought back for a moment. “It was before, but right before. She was probably already sending it by the time the meteor got to the Palace.”
        “Then it has nothing to do with why we’re goin’ to Canterlot.”
        “... Probably not,” Twilight conceded.
        “So why are we going to Canterlot?” Fluttershy asked.
        “I suspect it has something to do with the black hole,” Twilight said. “But I don’t think you can blast away an incredibly powerful cosmic force with the Elements of Harmony. It could be a scientific summit, but in that case I don’t know why all of you are coming along.”
        “It’s probably some sort of bad guy we’ll have to fight,” Rainbow Dash proposed, not exactly disappointed by the prospect.
        “One that moves the stars?” Rarity asked.
        “Nightmare Moon kept the sun from coming up,” Pinkie pointed out. “And Discord messed up day and night and made the sky all different colors.”
        “I thought that was just an illusion,” Fluttershy murmured, though she was largely ignored.
        “If it’s some sorta threat to Equestria like that, the Princess woulda been more urgent,” Applejack argued. “Showing up at noon wouldn’t be much help against the likes a’ Discord.”
        “Girls!” Twilight said. “We’re here.”
        The train braked slowly to a halt. The six ponies rushed down the stairs and across the platform. Twilight noted the time displayed on the clock above the station--almost one o'clock. They were an hour late.
        The friends galloped through Canterlot as quickly as their legs could take them, but not far from the front gate of the Palace they ran into a dense and seemingly disconcerted mob of ponies. Twilight recognized a few faces, and otherwise knew very well the poise of some of the unicorns--most of these were Canterlot ponies, though only most. Whatever had drawn the crowd, it had drawn them even from outside the city. “Hey, what’s the big deal?” Rainbow blurted. Trumpets began to blare.
        They were just out of view of what the ponies were looking at. Twilight searched with her magical senses, finding a break in the crowd a couple yards away in the direction that everypony was facing, just barely large enough to fit the six of them. “Teleport! Gather up!” she commanded, and her friends did as instructed. They disappeared in a flash of light.
        At the far end of the translocation spell, Twilight immediately looked up, being well acquainted with this part of Canterlot and knowing exactly what was attracting the crowd. She locked onto a balcony jutting out of the tower above, which she knew served as both a pegasus takeoff zone and an aerie for Royal decrees. It was clearly functioning as the latter presently.
        However, nopony at the moment was standing at the railing. Princesses Luna and Cadence were standing on the lefthoof side of the door, the former with a small frown and fearful eyes, the latter visibly shaking with terror. Princess Celestia was on the opposite side, her brow furrowed in a look of staunch defiance. The Sun Princess noticed the light of Twilight’s blink and gave her a sidelong look, shaking her head slowly. The unicorn nodded once in understanding.
        It was then that the doors flung inward, engulfed in an onyx aura and a dark, inequine figure was silhouetted in the archway. As it stepped into the light, the unicorn saw that it was like no creature she had ever encountered: its bottom half resembled a black-furred pony, tall like Celestia though much bulkier. Where the pony’s neck would have been there was instead a torso that approximated that of a minotaur, covered with the same black fur. Atop its shoulders sat a head that looked rather like a stallion’s, though with a somewhat flatter face. Its eyes were blacker than anything Twilight had ever seen, as if they literally absorbed every light wave that touched them--no irises, just pupils and coronas. Hair, like smooth wisps of dark smoke but with some faint, ghostly luminance, poured from its head. There was a crown at the top made of immaculate gold--the upper half of its body wore a golden breastplate and rerebraces, the lower half golden barding, and its hooves were similarly shod in gold. A set of scarlet wings were folded against its flanks, and another pair draped over its upper shoulders like a cape. In one of its hands it held an ornate golden staff, topped with the astronomical symbol of Sagittarius: ♐.
        As the creature passed the Princesses, each of them, with varying hesitation, bowed low to the floor. A harried murmur rose throughout the crowd, and Rainbow Dash took a step forward, her face set in a determined scowl. “Wait!” Twilight cautioned. “We can’t go up there yet.” The pegasus sighed dejectedly and heeded the warning.
        Moments later, a deep masculine voice boomed almost unnaturally through the air, loudly and suddenly enough to cause half the ponies present to jump. “I am Apollyon,” he said, and Twilight saw as he spoke that his mouth was full of sharp, carnivorous teeth. “Manifest of Sagittarius A*. Father of this galaxy. And your King.”
> Quietus
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

        Twilight’s brow furrowed slightly as she frowned up at Apollyon. King? By what right? And how had he managed to intimidate the Princesses?
        The unicorn’s breath hitched in her throat as she remembered what she had seen in the sky last night--or, rather, what she speculated she had seen. The supposed god standing before them claimed to be the incarnate form of Sagittarius A*, which fit perfectly with her hypothesis. But how could a black hole have a physical body?
        No matter. They had to get to the Elements of Harmony and stop him.
        But Twilight’s curiosity overpowered her sense of urgency as King’s voice boomed outward again, cleaving the air with its sheer force yet carrying an almost conversational tone, as if speaking in this volume took no effort at all for him.
        “I have come to this world from across a vast gulf of insincerity,” he said. “It feels welcoming here, for it is warm and lively and energetic. I see much potential.”
        The lavender unicorn’s head swam as she attempted to decipher the meaning of that statement. Apollyon’s black eyes scanned the crowd slowly, as if searching for a reaction. He seemed almost amused at their bewildered expressions. As the King’s gaze passed over Twilight and her friends, she would have sworn that he lingered a moment longer than was necessary.
        He spoke again, more quietly now that he had the crowd’s full attention, and his voice seemed to hold a certain eagerness. “It is your honor, and your privilege, to fulfil your ultimate purpose within this month. This planet, Earth, has finally reached its prime, and it shall be my next repast.” The throng of ponies was quiet and staid. They seemed to wither under his gaze as the true implications of his words began to sink in. “It is, as should be reminded at these events, the way our universe works. Not only the Earth, but indeed the entirety of this solar system shall be consumed upon the arrival of Sagittarius A.”
        Still, the crowd stood silent. Many faces paled, many eyes turned to the sky, as if they would be able to see their doom through the blue firmament of the daytime atmosphere. Twilight’s gaze remained fixed on the supposed King before them, her mouth curling into a partial snarl. Most of her friends were standing stock still, their jaws hanging limp. Fluttershy had become a trembling yellow and pink ball.
        Apollyon seemed to disregard the general reaction of the ponies. A sickly grin and a gesture across the horizon. “And what a world this is. Standing here now, I can feel the abundance of energy and magic stored within this ecosphere. It will make quite a meal.” He turned suddenly and dramatically to the Princesses. Cadence made a reflexive move to curl in upon herself, but kept her composure for the most part and continued to shake in fear. “And to you three--but especially you, Celestia--I must congratulate you on a job well done. Without the tender care you took in raising this world, it would not have made nearly as worthy a sacrifice.” Celestia stood unfazed, staring defiantly back into his eyes. Apollyon frowned at this, but made to turn back to his audience.
        Sacrifice? And he claims Celestia was not only aware of it, but helping to make it happen? Twilight was practically outraged. She took a step forward and prepared to shout up at the balcony in defense of her Princess, her country, her planet...
        “We don’t appreciate your threats!” 
That wasn’t her. A large, gray stallion hovered above the crowd, his face seething with anger as he shouted at Apollyon. “You aren’t our King, and you have no right to be here! Leave us and our Princesses alone!”
Staring almost quizzically at the outburst, his head tilted slightly, all emotion fell from the King’s face. His eyes flicked back to the goddesses before returning to the defiant pegasus. “Child,” he began, his words taking up a biting chill. “Do you not understand your purpose? These are the essential laws of this reality; it is only by my presence and my mercy that you or anything you know of exists. As you should be aware, there was once a time when the elements that compose your very being were formed in the heart of stars. You have come from beyond this world, and the time is nigh that you and all life on this planet be returned to it.”
The stallion huffed as his wings flared beside him. “We won’t let you! We can and will defend our world!” He looked down at his fellow ponies. “Stand up! Don’t let this coward destroy us! You all know what we can do--together, we can stop this!” Rather uncertainly at first, other voices in the crowd began to join in. With rising vigor, shouts began to ring out, an empowered unity in the increasing noise. The ground shook as the mass of ponies stomped its hooves as one.
Apollyon didn’t seem moved by this. In fact, he looked almost disappointed. After a moment, he decided that the interruption had stretched on long enough and slammed his scepter on the marble floor of the aerie, cracking it harshly. His eyes glowed stark white as he began speaking in an ancient, unknown language, deep and powerful enough to shake bones. His words hinted at the unimaginable weight of stars; the vast distances between galaxies; the white, searing heat and the empty, bitter cold; and at the core of the chaotic whirling, the black void solidified into a crushing, all-consuming darkness. 
The crowd was still. The pegasus almost plummeted to the ground, having literally forgotten to flap his wings. 
Celestia and Luna looked out at the ponies with concern, the latter fidgeting slightly at what had just transpired. The God King collected himself instantly, as if he had done no more than mutter a short, trivial phrase. “I will not tolerate such behavior in my presence! I have come to offer this world its honorable closure, and this is how I am repaid?” He cast a sharp glance at the Royal Sisters. Luna tensed under his gaze.
        “I will not stand before such a tumultuous crowd again. This is the way of the universe, and nothing will change that. When I return, I shall be expecting a more welcome reception.” Apollyon spread his two sets of wings and took off straight into the sky. After a moment, his silhouette disappeared into the distance.
        Conversation started up in the crowd, ponies coming to terms with the striking change in their perception of reality. Up on the balcony, a golden aura consumed the double door and swung it open. The Princesses filed into the palace one by one.
        Twilight nodded at her friends, and they all gathered as close as they could. A spark from her horn exploded to a blinding flash, and the six ponies were standing on the aerie. The lavender unicorn caught the door as it was closing and stepped through. Inside, the three goddesses were trotting dejectedly just away from the entrance. “Princess!” Twilight called. “What wa-”
        “Where have you been?” Celestia snapped without turning around.
        Twilight paused for a moment, hurt. She then gave her lowest bow, her horn almost touching the floor. Her friends followed suit. “I’m so sorry, Princess. I... I slept in. Accidentally. I’m sorry.”
        The alicorn sighed. “It’s okay, Twilight. Excuse me for that outburst, I’m not exactly having the best day.”
        “Who was that?” Applejack asked, rising from her bow with the others.
        “King Apollyon,” Luna said, seemingly confused that the question was being asked. “The black hole around which our galaxy rotates.”
        “So you mean everything he said was true?” Rarity demanded.
        “Yes,” Celestia confirmed. “Everything.”
        “Well then, just open up the vault with the Elements in it, and we’ll take care of him!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed enthusiastically.
        “No!” Princess Cadence cried, her eyes wide and fearful.
        “We are afraid that the Elements of Harmony may not truly work... exactly as the legends describe,” Luna said carefully, taking a step forward.
        “What?” Twilight’s voice held almost shattered disbelief.
        “But we already know they work,” Pinkie Pie countered. “We used them two times!”
        “You have,” Celestia agreed. “The Elements do work fine under certain conditions. The problem is that such conditions are rather limited.
        “You see, the Elements of Harmony were created to keep balance not only on Earth, but throughout the galaxy. Each set can be used by a god, or a coordinated group of vassals such as yourselves, to defend his property from thieves, or his authority from usurpation. As such, it cannot be used against a heavenly body around which the wielder orbits, as that translates to greater authority. This is why I could employ them against my sister as Nightmare Moon, but she could not do so against me. The Moon orbits the Earth, which orbits the Sun.”
        There was a short pause. “But what about the Virtues?” Fluttershy asked. “Kindness, Generosity, Loyalty, Magic?”
        “Those are not exactly bad traits to exemplify when wielding the Elements,” Luna said. “They promote the unity that is needed for a party of mortals to successfully work together when using them. However, that is all that they do--the Virtues hath no real connection to the Elements of Harmony.”
        “Wait,” Twilight said, directing the attention back to Celestia. “You said that they could be used against anyone who disobeys a higher god’s authority. If Apollyon’s in authority, doesn’t that mean that he could use the Elements against you?”
        The Princess nodded appreciatively at her student’s cleverness. “Yes, he could. That is why we are doing as he says--why we were standing out there when he spoke. The Elements of Harmony are very literal with their judgement, so by treading carefully and exploiting loopholes we should be able to avoid conviction.”
        “Doesn’t matter any,” Applejack protested. “If he’s got ‘em, and we can’t use ‘em, we won’t be able to stop him.”
        “Apollyon’s gonna gobble us up and we can’t do anything about it?!” Pinkie screamed.
        Celestia was smirking, though. Twilight recognized that look: the Princess was cunning and meticulous, with a plan for almost every possible occurrence. The unicorn imagined that that’s what she did with millennia of sparse free time--she spent it planning, obsessively, for any and every potential threat or danger. It was very rare that she shared these plans with anypony, or even hinted that they existed. But when she did, she smirked, just like that. 
        “There is a way to stop him,” she said coolly. The six mortals leaned in, and Princess Cadence edged closer. Luna seemed pretty disinterested, as if she had heard all this before.
        “I have prepared for the eventuality of Apollyon’s return. In fact, I began preparations over three thousand years ago. That was when I realized that, upon this day, there would be only one force in the whole of reality able to save the Earth.”
        “He’s a supermassive black hole,” Twilight argued. “The only thing more massive than that is maybe another supermassive black hole, and assuming the others are anything like him I don’t think you would be able to convince one to help us...”
        “Yes. As far as the Earth is concerned, Apollyon is the most powerful being in the universe.”
        “But I thought you said there was something that could stop him,” Rarity said, bemused.
        “There is. Outside of the universe.” Celestia’s eyes turned to the ceiling as if in veneration.  “The Unmoved Mover, or Primum Movens, which inhabits the Hyperuranion located at the outer bounds of our reality.”
        “The Mover is a myth, even amongst us gods,” Princess Luna added. “The stars are born from gas, and the planets from the stars, with a catalogue of innate knowledge of themselves and the universe around them--their name, their tongue, their being, and their purpose. Amongst all this, in every incarnate body, is the idea of a greater force that guides the myriad complex motions of the cosmos. And with it is always a name, which is exactly the same for every one of the divinities from the moment of their birth.”
        There was a moment of silence as the mortals balked at the grandeur of this concept. Then Pinkie Pie started talking. “But she said two names,” she interjected.
        “I simply gave you two different translations,” Celestia said. “In the True Language, in which you heard Apollyon speak briefly, the word is always the same.”
        “How do you know It’s real if you’ve never seen It?” Rainbow demanded brashly.
        “Unlike in mortals, instinct and intuition in gods appears to be completely accurate,” Princess Celestia explained. “It hasn’t failed me yet, at least. And in the four billion years since my birth, I have never once seriously doubted the existence of the Primum Movens, so I can tell you with a fair amount of certainty that It is out there. It is only my best hope that It can be convinced to help us.”
        “And how do we get to this Unmoved fella?” Applejack asked. The royalty present cringed slightly, as if using that name so casually was highest taboo.
“The entrance to Its realm lies at the edge of the universe, a gate set into the wall of reality, billions of miles away.”
“I repeat,” Applejack said, deadpanning. “How do we get to It?”
        Celestia only smiled.
> The Aethon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	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.”
> Sole Intention
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The evening was late, and the sun was being shepherded on its trip to and beyond the horizon. Twilight strode along a wide, brick-laden road that curved its way gracefully through the commons of Canterlot. The streets were darkened by the shadows of homes and shops, their roofs glowing a soft amber in the dying sunlight. 
She gave a deep breathe as she trotted along, her mind entirely separated from the surrounding lazy scene. Many ponies around her were heading home from work or standing about and idly chatting with their fellow townsfolk. The unicorn needn't listen to know what they were all discussing—what by now all of Canterlot was discussing. And by tomorrow, all of Equestria.
It was on her way back to the city that Twilight began to fully grasp the implications of the day's events. Her excitement had waned steadily and was entirely absent upon arrival; in its place rose a sort of passive dread. There was no anxiety, no stress, yet the unicorn felt a strange haze about herself. It was as if her vision was blurred with inattention, and she found her mind wandering aimlessly as time slipped by before her eyes.
She continued on, her hooves clapping starkly against the silence as they came to a stop before a familiar door. The house was built in a cookie-cutter style like most homes in Canterlot, yet to Twilight it seemed to hold a certain charm. The door was painted a light brown, and the lower windows were open to the cooling air. A glow escaped through the openings, passing over the small plants hanging before them, and Twilight heaved a sigh before softly knocking.
The door opened shortly afterward, an older mare answering the call. Her coat was an eggshell white; purple and white streams ran through both mane and tail. Her azure blue eyes lit up almost instantly and a serene smile spread across her face.
Twilight gave the mare a warm hug. “Hey, Mom.”
“Oh, Twilight,” she sang back. “I’m so happy to see you, especially so soon.” Silver Moon ushered her daughter inside with a slight pull. Twilight stepped in solemnly, her eyes taking in the foyer and the surrounding linked rooms. It was the same as ever, really, and in a small way she was grateful for that.
Silver gave a sharp shout up the stairs, calling for her husband. A grumble could be heard along with the scrape of a chair. Hooves followed, and Indigo Sparkle came into view as he rounded the stairway. His expression matched Twilight’s sad smile when he saw his daughter.
“Twilight,” he began, meeting them on the foyer floor, “It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”
“I’ve been well, Dad,” she replied unenthusiastically. Her mother escorted them to the den, where Twilight sat down on a couch across from her parents. Indigo stared blankly at the table between them while Silver Moon telekinetically fidgeted with a nearby family portrait, attempting to wipe the dust from it.
She suddenly hooked her eyes onto her daughter. “Dear, what brings you here so soon? The wedding was only, what, six or seven months ago?”
Twilight swallowed, her mind groping frantically for a smooth response. “No, I—well, yes, but... I’m here to tell you something. Something important.” She hesitated.
“Oh, well.. What is it, Honey? You know you can tell us anything.” Silver Moon’s smile stretched unevenly.
“Moon,” Indigo said, looking up but not into the eyes of either mare. “You know why she’s here. Just let her speak.”
The elder mare’s face fell immediately, and she looked at Twilight with pleading eyes. “It’s about... him, isn’t it?”
She swallowed again. “Yes. Something bad is coming. Err, well, something bad is already here. But much worse is about to arrive, and-”
“And the Princess is sending you on another one of her errands,” Indigo finished, poorly hidden resentment occupying the statement.
Father and daughter locked eyes, if only for a moment. “Yes,” she replied, and the stallion nodded slowly. Twilight detected the dread and hopelessness that had spread so quickly since the announcement of Equestria’s impending doom.
“Twilight, Honey, I have no doubt of your abilities,” Silver Moon said, her eyes starting to stare blankly into space. “But... I was there. I felt the power wash over me. This isn’t like the other times, is it? It didn’t feel the same as Discord, or Chrysalis, or Nightmare Moon—it wasn’t a threat, or a possibility. It was real, and it was wrong.” Silver Moon looked back up at her daughter. “Do you—no, does Celestia even know how to stop it?”
Twilight nodded. “She does. The Princess already has a plan laid out, and my friends Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie will be coming along with me.” At this, Indigo looked up. “You’re right that this is different, and we can’t do it on our own, but with luck everything should be alright when we get back.”
Indigo cleared his throat, and the two mares looked in his direction. “It’s just you and those two friends?” he asked. “What happened to the other three you told us about?”
Silver Moon gave a thoughtful nod. “I was just wondering the same thing.” She turned to her daughter. “Here I thought you and your friends were just going to go face the threat like normal. But you’re saying that you’re going on some sort of journey? What about the... Elements of Harmony?”
Twilight shook her head. “They aren’t enough this time. Apollyon—the stallion you saw—outranks Princess Celestia, and something about the Elements keeps them from working in that case.” A pause. “I admit that I don’t understand all the details, but that’s what the Princess told us at least.”
“And she knows of another way?” asked the elder mare. Twilight nodded the affirmative. “How confident is she in this plan? What will you be doing—where will you be going? When will you be back?” Silver Moon’s voice grew more frantic with each question.
Twilight halted as she considered these questions. She realized that nobody had given much specific information—she wondered if any of the alicorns actually knew, or whether it was just more divine intuition. “I don’t know. But honestly, I don’t think it really matters at this point. If we can’t trust the Princesses, what else can we do?”
Indigo sighed. “I suppose you’re right. It’s better than doing nothing, at least.”
“But you still haven’t told us where you’re going,” Silver Moon reminded. “Is it too far? Or too dangerous?”
Twilight winced slightly. She knew what the reaction would be to what she was about to say, and she had hoped to avoid saying it. But she wasn’t about to lie to her parents, however bitter a medicine the truth may be. “It’s... about as far as you can get. Princess Celestia said we’re going out in space, to the edge of the universe.”
“What?!” her father shouted.
“Twilight!” said her mother. “I... Are you sure this is necessary?!”
“Well, Apollyon rules the entire galaxy,” Twilight explained. “It makes sense that we’d have to go somewhere else to be able to stop him... right?”
“But this is dangerous! It’s probably never even been done before—how can we be sure it’ll even work?”
“What if you don’t make it?” cried Indigo. “We wouldn’t even have a body to...” He trailed off, his jaw hanging with a half-formed thought and his eyes staring into his daughter’s.
Twilight was sobbing, tears streaming down her cheeks. That was it—all the fear, all the uncertainty that had built up, unnoticed, just under the surface of her mind finally burst out. “Don’t you think I’m scared, too?” she breathed.
“Oh, Honey...” Silver Moon brought her daughter into her embrace, allowed Twilight’s tears to fall upon her shoulder.
“I mean, what if I fail?” she whimpered. “It would... The whole world...”
A hoof stroked Twilight’s mane. “Sh-sh-sh. You won’t.” The elder mare pulled back to make eye contact, and her face was set and determined. “Twilight, you are the most intelligent, most capable, strongest young mare in the entire kingdom, and I have personally seen that you can do whatever you put your mind to. That’s why Celestia chose you as her student, and that’s why she chose you for this mission. Because you can do it.” Silver Moon searched for words. “You will. You’ll go wherever you need to go, do whatever you need to do, come back whenever the Fates decide, and when you do...” She paused and gave a small smile. “I’ll be here, ready to say ‘I told you so.’”
Twilight sniffed, wiped her eyes, and smiled back. Her mother had always had a certain way with words when it mattered most. “Thanks, Mom.” The two mares looked questioningly over to Indigo.
“I’m not happy about sending you away like that.” He then smiled as well. “But, for the sake of the planet, I can think of no one more qualified for this mission than my daughter.” Twilight drew her father into a hug, the force of which made him groan softly before returning it. “Just be careful, alright?”
“I will.” She drew back. “And the second I set hoof on terra firma again I’ll come running to let you know I’m okay. Pinkie Promise.” Her parents looked queerly at her, understanding the sentiment but not the context. “Uhh, it’s something Pinkie Pie says. Speaking of, I hate to cut this short, but the other two are probably waiting for me.” She looked out the window to see that the sun had already set. Come to think of it, Celestia had said something about seeing them off. Twilight was keeping her up.
“Good luck, Sweetie,” said Silver Moon as the three Sparkles rose and cantered into the foyer. “We’re so very proud of you.”
“Thank you. I’ll miss you both.” She wrapped one arm around each of her parents’ necks.
“We’ll miss you too, Twilight,” Indigo said, smiling warmly.
She broke the hug and turned to leave. It was a good thing that she was able see her family before she left—chances were this info wouldn’t be released to the public, and she would be bereft if she disappeared without saying goodbye to her relatives.
“Oh,” Twilight realized, turning back. “Make sure to let Shiny know. I might not see him before we leave.”
Silver Moon nodded her head. “We will. He’s just been at the palace so much ever since the wedding.” She suddenly looked thoughtful. “I saw Cadence up there this morning, standing next to the Sisters. Poor thing, she looked terrified.”
“She did. I saw, too,” Twilight commented. “I should probably ask Princess Celestia about that. Anyway, bye!” she added hastily—and perhaps awkwardly—attempting to quash any possibility of further chatter. She hated to do that to them, but if she let it go on much longer she would be there all night. She really had to be going.
“Goodbye, Twilight,” her mom said as the unicorn stepped through the door. “Take care, and follow up on your promise.” Her chin quivered slightly and her voice was choked as she continued. “We love you, so much.” At this, Indigo nodded slowly.
Twilight turned her head and looked in from the front steps. “I love you too. Both of you. I’ll be back before you know it.” She offered a final reassuring smile before turning back toward the light of the gas lamps outside. “Goodbye!”
She trotted a few steps, then stopped to listen to the sound of the door shutting behind her. She heaved a sigh through her nostrils, then continued on toward the market with renewed vigor.


*        *        *


Rainbow Dash soared purposefully across Canterlot, weaving through the sky-piercing marble spires with ease. She found that the airways were remarkably empty for such a big city, even at this time of night—this was due to Canterlot being populated mainly by unicorns, with pegasi and earth ponies mostly commuting in for those jobs that required them. Royal guards flew in formation here and there, but otherwise Rainbow almost had the skies to herself.
The wooden cart trailing behind her was weighty in its impossible way. It didn’t have any tendency to fall thanks to her intuitive flight magic, nor did it add any drag, but some part of the pegasus’s psyche felt the need to constantly notify her that she was carrying something heavy, that she couldn’t stay aloft forever.
This weight was due to the mountain of literature that a certain unicorn mare had commissioned her to buy. Hipparcos had some manner of prep to take care of for the Aethon, Pinkie Pie was in charge of the food, and Twilight actually had a family to see, so Rainbow was left with a lengthy shopping list of necessary scientific references, speculative essays, and selections from the small, but apparently burgeoning, new genre of space-related speculative fiction—as well as a few suggestions from Twilight of book series that might interest the pegasus now that she was finished with Daring Do, and a couple rather odd requests by Pinkie Pie.
Rainbow Dash touched down as gently as she could onto the road below so as to not topple the tower of books she was attached to. She undid the harness and scanned the area around her. Various wooden stands with colorfully painted signs advertising their wares, most of which were being emptied and closed as the purveyors packed up for the night. This was the market district, alright—but where was Pinkie?
The pegasus left her cart behind as she began trotting along the road in an attempt to find the pink pony. Pinkie Pie wasn’t one to take very long with any task, thus by now either she was finished and doing something completely random, or she hadn’t started and was doing something completely random. Rainbow Dash hoped that it was the former.
A short trot down the road revealed a large metal structure resembling a warehouse, only distinguishable from one by the large glowing sign across the front and the sliding glass door that poured cold white light from the inside. It was one of those new chain superstores that were starting to catch on. Rainbow had heard of them, but since there weren’t any in Ponyville and it was nigh-impossible to put one in Cloudsdale, this was the first time she’d seen one with her own eyes.
It was likely the same situation for Pinkie Pie, so this was the best bet for finding her. And it wouldn’t hurt to check it out, anyway.
The pegasus strode up to the front of the building, whistling in appreciation as the door slid open for her, hitting her head-on with a gust of conditioned air. It wasn’t uncomfortably warm outside, nor was the air inside particularly cold, but it did make her aware of just how humid the Summer air was. She concluded with disapproval that it was probably due to the magical weather service here in Canterlot--all done on the ground, no real intimacy or understanding.
Rainbow Dash cantered slowly through the leviathan and labyrinth of a store, taking in the ridiculous selection of items weighing down the rows of shelves, as well as the exceedingly simple sterile white ambience otherwise. It almost reminded her of the sky, though the relatively small amount of appliances fit for use by hooves reminded her that she was still on the ground, in Canterlot.
Roughly a minute passed before the pegasus’s tendencies began to shine through, and she stopped admiring the surroundings to resume her search for Pinkie Pie. Her pace began to quicken as she scanned aisle by aisle for her pink quarry. Briefly she lifted off to seek from above, a feat made easy by the huge vaulted ceiling, but an unfamiliar masculine voice commanded from afar that she keep at least one hoof on the ground at all times.
Rainbow was just about to give up and try somewhere else when her ears pricked with the distant sound of falsetto giggling. The pegasus crouched low, stalking across the aisles in the direction of the laughter. It wasn’t long before she heard it again and, pinpointing its origin exactly, she flapped her wings and dove toward her prey with wanton disregard for store policy. 
A pink pony, bowled over and lying spread eagle in Rainbow Dash’s hold, was nonetheless still chewing happily on some manner of free sample.
“Pinkie Pie!”
“Hi Dashie!” she squeaked through her full mouth.
“She yours?” said a gruff, and very exhausted, female voice originating from behind the nearby stand.
“Unfortunately.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” breathed the salesmare. “I was supposed to close down thirteen minutes ago, but management won’t let me do that when there are any customers still here.” She began to clean up her station.
The polychromatic pegasus looked back at Pinkie Pie. The latter swallowed. “What?”
Rainbow sighed. “Did you get everything on the list?”
“Well, yeah!” The blithe pink pony wriggled out of her captor’s grasp to canter a few steps beside and snatch up a pair of saddlebags in her mouth.
“Pinkie, we’re gonna need more than that,” the pegasus said dryly.
“Nmm-nmm!” Pinkie argued mutely through clenched teeth. She pranced daintily to Rainbow Dash’s side and rested the pair of bags on her withers.
Immediately the pegasus felt her legs buckle under the immense weight, her eyes bulging outward in surprise as she strained to remain upright.
Pinkie Pie took the bags back off and slid them onto her own back with incredible ease. Rainbow was sputtering. “What... How did... Huh?”
The pink mare giggled. “Silly Dashie, you act like you’ve never seen a bag of holding before!” She turned and began pronking merrily toward the checkout.
Rainbow Dash blinked, then shook her head. “Earth pony strength...”


*        *        *


Twilight Sparkle eyed the cart before her inquisitively in an attempt to identify it. She began reading the spine of each book inside and scouring her memory to see if it was on the list given to Rainbow Dash.
Then, with a blush and a few sidelong glances, she pulled said list from where it was hiding oh-so-sneakily right before her eyes. This was definitely their cart; the problem was that her friends were nowhere to be found.
The unicorn sat for a moment wondering what to do. Should she go looking for them, or should she wait? What if they came back while she was gone and ended up waiting for her? Then again, what if they were lost? Or worse? Princess Celestia was waiting on them, and tardiness simply would not do.
Twilight took a deep breath, recognizing how stressed she was getting, and elected to stay put. After all, Rainbow wouldn’t leave their cart unattended if she planned to be gone long.
Or, rather, she shouldn’t. Come to think of it, that sounded just like something Rainbow would do...
The Cosmic Adventures of Ad Astra levitated violently from the top of one of the stacks to Twilight’s eye level and, with a determination to stop worrying, she set upon reading it for the third time.


*        *        *


“Yes, yes!” the Nightmare laughed erratically. “Without your ship, you will be forced to stay here with me! And worship me, and love me, forever!”
Ad Astra smirked and lifted a leg to her muzzle. “You forget, oh Exile Queen--I have full control from here!” With a press of a button on the built-in control panel of her suit, Astra’s spacecraft burst from its dark magical trappings and sped toward her.
As the Expedient flew on its set trajectory through the Queen of Darkness and to its master, Nightmare Moon let out a piercing shriek...

Twilight looked up from the book as a high-pitched voice cleft the air. Pinkie Pie was bouncing toward her, Rainbow Dash in tow, squealing her name. “Twilight!”
The book shut itself with a thump and floated back to its place on the cart. “Where have you two been?”
“This one was gorging herself on samples and annoying supermarket employees all evening,” Rainbow Dash replied, gesturing toward her energetic friend with her head as she flew on at a semi-hurried pace. “Anyway, we got the stuff, let’s go.”
The pegasus was quickly secured into the harness of the cart while the other two ponies climbed in among the luggage, Twilight pushing some books aside and Pinkie perching atop the very peak of the mountain of books. The wagon lurched as Rainbow took off--so much so that Twilight had to use magic to keep the precious cargo from toppling over and falling out.
“So...” said the unicorn once she had finished casting her spell. “Anyone having any doubts about this mission?”
“No way!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed without a moment’s hesitation. “I mean, I’ve flown pretty high before, but I never even thought about going to space! I always thought the sky was like...” She made a wide, upward gesture with her forehooves, “Like a big dome above the ground that you couldn’t get through, y’know?”
Twilight blinked and looked up at the pegasus, who had now locked eyes with her. “Uhh, yeah, me neither!” Rainbow cocked an eyebrow. “The not having any doubts... part.”
“It’s so exciting!” Pinkie Pie enthused. “We’re going into space! I wonder what it’s going to be like; will we get to meet space aliens? What are stars really like, up close? Oh Celestia, it’s going to be so cool! And the best part is,” she hugged Twilight in one forehoof and left the other groping blindly in Rainbow’s direction. “I get to spend the whole trip with two of my bestest friends! Although, I will miss my other, equally-bestest friends. And even my slightly-less-bestest friends! But that’s what we’re doing this for, right? What kind of world would it be if all the bestest, and less-bestest, and future-bestest friends got gobbled up by some big interstellar meanie? It wouldn’t be a world at all, because even the world itself would be gobbled, so we-”
“Pinkie!” shouted Rainbow Dash. “We’re here!”
The spires of Canterlot Palace loomed impressively over the painted concrete balcony upon which they had touched down. An identical pair of unicorn guards stood motionless beside a large set of ornate double doors.
Twilight blinked for a moment, then hopped off the cart and began trotting toward the guards. The two stallions instantly recognized the Princess’s student and, without a word to her or to each other, telekinetically opened the doors for her. “Thank you,” she recognized quite sincerely as the trio of mares entered the palace.
Then Twilight halted. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. She looked both ways down the saffron-carpeted hall that they had entered. “I don’t know where to go,” she admitted. They had been told to return to the Palace when they were ready, but only now did the unicorn realize exactly how vague and unhelpful a direction that was.
Just as she had determined to find the nearest guard and ask whether he knew where Celestia was, a burst of warm golden light softly lit the room. The show of vastly powerful solar magic that was this godly teleportation spell impelled the three mares to bow in fear and veneration as the Princess of the Sun stepped out of the light. “I apologize, my little ponies,” she said calmingly, “I try to avoid exposing my subjects to my magic if possible, but every second is precious.”
The ponies rose and listened, wide-eyed. “This is, as you might expect, unlike anything you have done before. I must stress that failure is not an option, whatsoever; which means I will accept even the sacrifice of every one of the crew’s lives as prudent and necessary if doing so is the salvation of all life on Earth. Not the ship nor the safety of anypony on board, nor anything otherwise, will be held at higher value than the completion of the mission, understood?” 
There was a pause, and the mares nodded gravely.
“I must admit,” the alicorn continued, “I cannot know the distance nor the time you will have to cover in the journey. Only my intuition can assure that you will reach the destination in time, and only faith allows me to trust that estimate. Which is why you have to leave as soon as possible and travel quickly; for the sake of the planet, you mustn’t waste a single second. Even shrouded in uncertainty, this is still our best hope of survival, and it is to be treated with the utmost care and respect.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Twilight replied soberly as the others nodded behind her.
“Your friends have returned to Ponyville to tend to their affairs but have sent their most heartfelt regards. An escort is waiting outside the main Westward gate to take you to the Aethon; Hipparcos will brief you on the launch when you arrive.” 
The Princess paused to emphasize her parting words. “Good luck and godspeed, little ponies.”


> The Launch
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Twilight Sparkle was in a nondescript room. Hipparcos had said something about each member of the crew furnishing her own room, but the mare had completely forgotten about it.
Well, not exactly forgotten. It had not really registered in her mind at all. That is, until she had entered her simple chamber, with its monochrome spread and default, flat-sided nightstand and dresser, and had been thoroughly bored by it.
Somepony just now meeting Twilight might assume that she would like things utilitarian, simple, and uncomplicated. Granted, this wasn’t exactly untrue, but like anyone she preferred a measure of personalization, of familiarity. The lamp didn’t even have a shade. She could’ve asked for a lampshade from her parents, a lampshade with which she had grown up. It wouldn’t have added more than a few seconds to the visit, her parents couldn’t have refused, and she would’ve had a memento that would’ve comforted her on her journey.
She was scared. Dear Celestia, she was scared. Of course, she had no doubts of her safety, her crewmates, her own competence, but...
The walls of the craft weren’t very thick, and her bed was against the perimeter. It was well within range of teleportation, and no one would be able to hear or see the pop. Nopony would know until the launch was over, and then it would be too late to fetch her. There would be no more confinement; she would be free.
However, if her estimates were right, less than one twenty-ninth of a second after leaving the barrel of the mountain, even teleportation straight down at maximum range would place her far enough from the peak for the impact to kill. 
There was one splash of color in the otherwise slate-gray room: a bright red alarm light, which would flash, accompanied by a buzzer, as soon as the takeoff began. It would deactivate again when the ship had exited its barrel, to signify that it was safe for the occupants to leave their rooms. When the buzzer stopped sounding, equine reaction time plus the activation and execution of a teleportation spell would take almost twice her theorized window of opportunity. Twilight would be trapped.
Deep inside of her, a remnant of her evolutionary past was screaming at her, feeling the walls closing in and all escape being blocked. It urged her to flee.
She intently directed her mind at other things. Hipparcos had said that the crew should lay on their beds to help reduce the effects of acceleration as they were taking off. She climbed into and lay on her bed. The launch hadn’t begun yet, of course, but she had nothing better to do and she might as well prepare. There would only be a few final systems checks before the ship was ready and her fate would be sealed...
Focus.
Rainbow Dash had been breathing rather heavily when they entered the craft. The pegasus was trying her best to hide it, but Twilight had known her long enough to see right through the act. She wondered what part of the mission was upsetting her so. The launch itself? The confinement of the Aethon, perhaps? The pegasus was known by her friends to be fairly claustrophobic, especially when there were no windows allowing her to see the sky. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was the fact that there would be no escape...
Focus!
Pinkie Pie had seemed just as cheery as usual. In the briefing Hipparcos had mentioned something about the g-forces during launch being reduced to little more than that of a large rollercoaster. In response to that one misstep of phrasing, the earth mare had begun bouncing and gushing about how much she loved carnival rides. Twilight had always hated rollercoasters, personally. Just a lot of spinning and a lot of nausea. She had only ridden one once, dragged along by her older brother when she was just a filly. The unicorn recalled the fear beforehoof, and the terror when she realized that the harness wouldn’t come off however she pulled, that there was no going back...
Focus...
Focus...
Dear Celestia was she scared! 
A blaring siren; the world was red. Twilight’s gut twisted as she realized what was happening, and her mind waged war with itself. She clenched the legs that told her to bolt. She quieted the horn that told her to blink. She bit the tongue that told her to scream. There was a crack like a massive explosion, and then there was a pony on Twilight’s chest. Then it was a manticore. Then a dragon. As the pressure built exponentially, a shriek echoed through the ship. The unicorn didn’t know which of her friends it was and didn’t care. 
She had the excuse, and she screamed.

The wail choked off quickly as the air was fully expended from the unicorn’s lungs, leaving her sputtering and writhing in a futile attempt to inhale.
The rumbling of the ship soon turned into the wicked rattle and squeal of metal against metal. Mental images of the hull buckling and wrenching under the stress, despite its stability and all the precautions taken, flooded Twilight’s mind in terrifying flashes during those short, yet seemingly endless moments. She told herself that it would hold, that the pressure would ease up and she’d at least be given the chance to die in some peace. Her eyes ached dully in their sockets as the world struggled to show through a quickly constricting tunnel.
The pressure began to lessen at a sluggish pace. The muscles in Twilight’s chest pulled her lungs open slowly and with great difficulty, causing air to sickeningly trickle in accompanied by a dry wheezing. The unicorn knew that this was supposed to happen, but in her daze it only served to frighten her even more. 
For the briefest of moments, the acceleration was roughly equal to one standard g, and at that point Twilight’s eyelids fluttered open as she regained consciousness. She greedily gulped down the air that she was finally granted access to, and immediately started panting at the ordeal she had just been through. She still ached terribly, but now that her upward plummet was beginning to level out a sense of relief was rising in her mind. The worst was over.
She struggled to regain control over her breathing and her thumping heart. Groping lightly at the sheets, she tested each muscle and joint in her body with hairsbreadth movements to be certain that all was still functioning and in one piece. It was, and at that she released a tremulous sigh. She hadn’t noticed just when the creaking and rumbling of the ship had stopped, nor when the red alarm had switched off, but she was relieved that they had.
Slowly she calmed herself and took hold of her emotions, gingerly reassuring them and rousing them from the primal fear that they had so rightfully been consumed by. Nearly a full minute passed unnoticed before she realized that she was no longer being pushed harshly against her mattress--in fact, it was now pushing her back, the springs taking their shape as they gently released their occupant into the air.
Twilight blinked in surprise, turning her neck to inquire just what exactly the mattress thought it was doing--then instantly regretted it as a stark throb of pain shot from the back of her head all the way down her spine. With startling suddenness her eyes began to protest the searing light which filled the room from the tiny apertures in the ceiling and cast the walls and furniture in bright contrast. Huge round splotches of gray invaded her vision as dark specks darted across her periphery, all accompanied by a soft ringing in her ears.
The unicorn observed this rebellion of her own senses with bemusement, slowly coming to the conclusion that it was due to blood flow being diverted back into her abused sensory organs. She may have entertained this curiosity, along with many other onrushing thoughts, had she not come to realize with a squawk that the ceiling was approaching her. She pulled in her forelegs and braced for impact.
As she bumped softly against the metal surface then gently rebounded in the direction whence she had come, she decided that her initial terror was a bit of an overreaction. 
Right. Now it was time to really start moving. She grimaced as she stretched and rotated her shoulders, a minor jolt of pain running down her spine. She quickly noticed that this simple action had started her spinning over herself in an almost serene motion, turning her over to see a shallow pony-shaped imprint that was beginning to even out. Twilight wasn’t stupid, and seeing her bed a leg’s length below the truth of the situation finally dawned on her. A rush of excitement filled her being, joined by the triumph of having conquered herself and stayed onboard and amplified by the lingering adrenaline from the takeoff.
She turned again, the remaining aches slowly dulling, starting to become a nonissue for movement. The strange paths she took through the air as she moved felt weirdly familiar--as if she were floating in water, but without the friction or buoyancy inherent with the water itself. The feeling was odd, being simultaneously recognizable and yet very new, but wasn’t unpleasant in the slightest.
“This--well, uhh.... Huh.” Twilight blinked dumbly at the sensation. She then twisted her body again and began waggling her legs pathetically, but this motion only started her drifting lazily through space once more. She struggled to find traction in the thin air, but found it incredibly difficult to maneuver, her random flailing simply convoluting her trajectory. “Curse you, Laws of Motion!” 
Despite her desperate attempts to act like a jellyfish and propel herself toward any solid surface, she just continued to spin and bob uncontrolled.
She released a loud sigh in irritation. A purple aura wrapped around her hooves and tugged them toward the floor, harshly enough to cause her to emit a small squeak. When she touched down on the darker metal, luminous tendrils of magic rose from below her and grasped her hooves like translucent vines. Somehow this only felt more awkward, being stuck onto the floor and yet still floating within her skin. Her mane wafted around her head, briefly obscuring her vision, and she could feel her tail floating as well. As she passively observed the state of her body, she absently wondered how long such a thing would take to get used to. She pondered just how well each of her friends would cope with it.
Then she remembered that two of them already were.
Weakening the spell on one foreleg, she lifted it to step toward the door, then promptly hit herself on the lower jaw and bit her tongue. 
“Ach! ... This might be harder than I thought." Her noodly appendages pulled the foreleg back down slowly, intentionally landing it a touch ahead of where it had been. She repeated the process--sans kicking herself, of course--and tenderly and sluggishly worked her way across the room.
As she approached the entrance to her room, Twilight was surprised to find herself adjusting somewhat. Maybe this wasn’t really too bad a situation--though she still worried about the other passengers that didn’t have magic to help them. Rainbow may be doing alright, but judging by the difficulty in walking, flying might be an ordeal as well. Hipparcos, she imagined, could do just what she was doing; if anything the weightless environment made it even easier to maintain spells, without anything except air friction to wear them down. 
When she came within reach of the door, Twilight heard a rather distinct “Wheeee!” pass through the material between her and, obviously, Pinkie Pie. With a click, a whoosh, and the tinkling of magic, the metal partition slid aside and hid inside of the wall.
In hindsight, she really should have seen this coming.
A pink blur was bouncing jubilantly across the hallway, jumping from wall to wall without a care. Twilight barely recovered her stance after awkwardly dodging one of the ricochets.
“Pinkie!” shouted the unicorn. The mare in question somehow managed to turn in midair and face her friend with wide eyes and an even wider smile. She had neglected to stop herself, yet she seemed not to care as she collided with the wall without so much as a blink.
“Good to know that you’re doing alright. I assume the liftoff went smoothly for you?”
In response, Pinkie Pie pushed off a wall, pirouetted, and stuck the landing right beside and in line with Twilight. She seemed almost unresponsive for a moment, staring blankly ahead of her with the same casual smile. She dramatically drew in a breath before squealing, “YES!”
Her hooves clamped over her mouth suddenly and she somehow managed to blush through already-pink cheeks. “Yes, yes! Well, no, actually.” Pinkie’s expression and tone took an immediate sharp turn. “The being-shot-through-a-cannon part really wasn’t fun at all. I know Celestia said it was going to be bad, but that hurt! You think she’d say something about that, right? I mean, the Princess wouldn’t have lied to me!”
Twilight stared blankly for a moment, then blinked at Pinkie as her brain clicked into focus. “No, I suppose not.” She paused awkwardly. “Anyways, I just wanted to be sure you guys were alright and, well, you seem perfectly fine.” The pink mare was now spinning herself on a horizontal axis. “Yeah, you’re good,” Twilight concluded with a chuckle.
Pinkie stopped spinning and landed on her hooves, her wide eyes aiming toward the opposite end of the hall. “Dashie hasn’t come out yet, and I heard her screaming when the ride started.” The earth pony said this wistfully and with a twinge of concern. “I-I was worried about both of you.” She turned to Twilight, “I heard you scream, too. I had a feeling that everything was going to be okay, but I still didn’t like to know you two were scared.”
The unicorn smiled warmly and nuzzled her friend. “Thanks, Pinkie. I was just a little... unsure, that’s all. I’m fine now.” She then directed her focus at the opposite door. “I don’t know about Rainbow, though. The way she was acting, I think it was the launch itself that was worrying her. We should probably go see-”
Twilight was interrupted by the hiss of hydraulics. A very haggard sky-blue pegasus floated awkwardly out of her room, the plane of her body slightly askew and bobbing in small circles from the motion of her wings. She was silent, carrying a very worn and apathetic look.
Somehow Pinkie Pie was now floating alongside Rainbow. “Hey!” she said gleefully, trying to cheer her most-excellent friend back up. “You don’t look too good, Dashie. But that’s okay now! The worst part is over, right? And now that we’re outside of the atmosphere we can play in the relative freefall caused by the expanding orbit counteracting the microgravity from the Earth!” Twilight blinked again.
“Pinkie?” Rainbow rasped when she was sure her friend was done.
“Mhm?”
The pegasus cleared the obstruction from her throat and continued weakly. “No, please, not right now. Please? I feel sick.”
“O-oh. But...”
Rainbow’s brow furrowed as she shook her head again. “Stop. I’m serious this time.” She angled her wings to glide silently around and past Pinkie Pie, who had now frozen in place, her jaw slack. She then quickly set her expression, seeming to understand.
Twilight eased up toward the pegasus, who had awkwardly taken a seat on a padded bench bolted to the wall and was now staring blankly at her lap. “... Rainbow?” said the unicorn as smoothly as she could manage.
Rainbow Dash snapped her head upward and glared, but her expression quickly softened at Twilight’s hurt response. She sighed. “I’m sorry, guys. I really am.” She looked straight forward, daring not to look into anypony’s eyes. “I just... I didn’t like it, alright? I’m not a huge fan of flying without using my own wings.” She rubbed her eyes furiously, then grumbled, “And smacking a wall the second my chest stops hurting didn’t help, either.”
Twilight imagined the pegasus flaring her wings, firing herself across her bedroom and into the hard metal surface of the ceiling. She suppressed a tiny giggle at the irony of the scene. This mirth quickly fell as Rainbow pulled her hooves from her eyes to reveal the slight wetness surrounding them.
“I’m... sorry that happened, Rainbow Dash.” Twilight gave a reassuring smile. “But Pinkie was right about one thing--well, she was weirdly correct about a lot of things just now--but yes, it’s over now. And that’s going to be the worst part of the trip. Not even the reentry will be quite as bad as that.”
“Yeah, alright. I hear you.” Rainbow was now floating a few inches above her seat. With a flutter of her wings she forced herself back in, then folded her hind legs underneath to keep herself grounded. “But could you at least get the gravity going? This is really annoying.”
Twilight hesitated. “Oh, sure.” She turned and crept the short distance to Hipparcos’s door, then knocked briskly. Silence greeted her. She knocked again, and this time the stallion’s voice bid her enter.
Inside, she found him rummaging around in a bureau that was bolted to the floor. He levitated out various items; pens, papers, small booklets and an astrolabe. Eventually he came across a rather chunky picture camera, and at this he replaced everything else in the drawer. The camera seemed rather expensive and had a very large eye.
Twilight looked on, wondering just what there was onboard he could be photographing. She nearly gasped when she realized that what he had it for wasn’t onboard at all. Immediately she began scrambling around in her position in search of the nearest window. There was one above Hipparcos’s bed and, foregoing the magic that held her to the ground, she leapt.
Upon smacking face-first into the wall, she took a moment to simply lie prone and wallow in whatever-it-was-that-ponies-who-catapult-themselves-into-walls-were-supposed-to-wallow-in. She then wrapped a magical tendril around her torso and pulled her head up to gaze through the porthole, and while doing so noticed that she had finally caught the attention of Hipparcos, who was now smiling at her.
“I understand your enthusiasm,” he commented as he continued to tinker with the camera. “It really is beautiful, isn’t it?”
Twilight didn’t speak. Not at first. She gawked, her mouth agape, at the staggering abyss of space. She saw the vibrant swirls of nebulae and the brightly burning lights of uncountable stars. Were they all like Celestia? Twilight could imagine a cosmos as abuzz with life as her own planet, only on a far grander scale. There was magic here, untapped magic much unlike anything she had ever experienced.
The unicorn pivoted her head in an attempt to soak in as much as she could of the unimaginably vivid starscape that lie before her. She was well acquainted with the sky, of course, but even through a telescope on a clear night it was sullied by atmospheric disturbances and light pollution. Never before had she seen it so close, so unspeakably vast. It made her feel so small.
Hipparcos chuckled. “I suppose that’s a ‘yes.’” A loud click and high-pitched whine came from the camera. Seemingly satisfied, he retracted the device’s lens and hung it by a lanyard around his neck. “I’m happy to know that you and your friends survived the launch in one piece,” he said while looking out the still-open door. Pinkie was gazing curiously inside, while Rainbow was still sitting on the bench, her eyes closed.
Twilight still seemed wholly distracted. The stallion coughed. “You know, we could get a better view from the top. The oculus up there is much larger.”
“Yes!” she exclaimed, giddy excitement plastered on her face as she finally turned it away from the pane of glass. “I didn’t even think of that! Oh, and we also need to turn on the-” She paused, looking down at Hipparcos’s strangely sure footing and inert horn. He followed her line of sight down to his hooves, which were adorned with strange-looking metallic boots. “What are those?” Twilight asked, almost accusingly.
He lifted a foreleg and turned it over for inspection. “These? Magnetic shoes. They keep me on the floor so I can work easier in zero-gravity, and can keep me on the side of the ship if we go outside.”
“Magnetic? Why not just use magic?”
He shrugged. “Why not use magnets?”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. Anyway, let’s get to the bridge and look at more stars!” She then remembered Rainbow Dash’s issue earlier. “And we should start up the magical systems, as soon as possible.”
Hipparcos nodded and began trotting toward his door. Twilight noticed a bit of resistance each time he lifted a hoof and a sharp bang each time he put it back down. The magnetic field was a bit too strong; there were drawbacks to each method, she supposed.
When they exited the room, Pinkie Pie floated up to Hipparcos and began talking. The very sound of her voice caused Rainbow to put a hoof to her temple. “Ooh, what are those?” the pink mare asked. “What do they do? How do they work?”
“They’re magnets,” Twilight interrupted before Hipparcos could speak. She continued rather hurriedly, “We’re going to the bridge to turn on the ship.”
“Ooh, can I come?”
Twilight thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, probably wouldn’t be good to have the distraction... no offense.”
“None taken! I’ll just stay down here and...” She glanced back at Rainbow Dash. “Stay here and be very quiet, then.”
Twilight nodded in agreement, and the pair of unicorns started up the stairs to the top floor. The purple sorceress paused midway to peer through the archway to the kitchen, noticing inside four chairs and various types of cookware all floating in the air. She suppressed the urge to reorganize and pushed onward.
One more semicircle around the perimeter and they reached the gilded ivory of the bridge. Twilight nearly stumbled as she hurried toward the center, still not quite comfortable walking with her magic. She attempted to look up at the oculus, though it was quite far away. The act of craning her neck at such an angle brought back old aches from the launch.
Then she remembered the basin. She looked down, noticing appreciatively that the pool of mercury almost perfectly framed the view through the oculus, and once again stared slack-jawed at the most astounding view she had ever seen. This time she focused on picking out heavenly bodies that she recognized against the stunning splashes of color. She barely noticed Scorpio, its individual stars shining somewhat brighter than the surrounding areas--then she spotted Venus, impossibly far away, reflecting the light of the sun in its creamy hues. 
Twilight was completely absorbed in playing name-that-constellation until Hipparcos clanged slowly around to the other side of the basin and appeared at the edge of her view. “Let’s save the stargazing for after we have the systems running,” he suggested. Twilight looked up and chuckled nervously.
“So I’m the one that’s going to be powering this, right?” she said, immediately getting down to business. “But... you’ll be doing all of the actual piloting?”
“Yes,” the stallion affirmed. “The mercury will accept your magic and redirect it through the ship. The life support and gravity will always be on, and I’ll have the ability to redirect the power flow to other processes to guide the ship.”
Twilight nodded. “Makes sense.” She then looked back down at the quicksilver pool. “So I just shoot raw power into it? How will I keep that up while I’m in other rooms?”
“It’ll bond with your aura, making it a lot easier. This is quite typical for mercurial spells... though I can see why you might not know that. Quicksilver hasn’t been used for magic in almost a century.”
“I’ve read about it,” Twilight retorted, “but all the books were rather fuzzy when it came to the practical details. I think I get it now, though.”
The younger unicorn aimed her horn downward and focused. Casting raw magic didn’t so much take skill as it did discipline; sorcery was a very mental art, requiring complete affixation on whatever task was wanted. If a unicorn were to, say, levitate a pen, they must first imagine the pen floating in the air. 
This was usually simple enough, of course; but raw magic was different. In order to channel unaltered energy intended to literally do nothing before receiving further orders, one had to completely empty one’s mind. Any stray thought or sensory distraction could corrupt the magic, so the mind had to be completely blank--even thinking about casting raw magic would make casting raw magic impossible.
Many unicorns required several minutes of meditation to achieve this, but Twilight was very well-practiced and well-acquainted with her own mind. After just under thirty seconds of intense focus, an electric-blue bolt of energy snaked its way up the spiral of her horn and shot upward, soon arcking down as if drawn magnetically to the mercury.
There was a strange moaning sound when the energy hit its surface, and then a backwave pushed its way up the arc and back into Twilight’s horn, sucking the color out of magic as it did so. As the silvern power reached the base of the her horn, the entire arc fizzled away and the runes on the walls began to glow with a golden light.
However, Twilight didn’t stop floating when the gravity came on. Nor was the light of her horn extinguished. Hipparcos looked on in recognition and horror as the mare’s eyes flashed open, burning with an immaculate inner light.
Power flowed out of Twilight’s being in an unbearable torrent of fire and brimstone. The gentle tug that had accompanied the connection with the spell matrix was overshadowed by the increasingly violent energy that felt like it was going to blow her horn from its socket like a missile. Her mind raced, and as it did she could feel the immense power that she was wielding scurrying to latch onto any stray thought.
Twilight’s shocked expression quickly set, and she focused on tapering off her magical flow. She could do this, she just had to remain calm. It was purely psychosomatic...
Soon her hooves were back on the floor, and her eyes once again showed their pupils and irises. 
She blinked, then looked across the room to see Hipparcos standing numbly, terrified shock displayed on his face. Twilight was suddenly frantic. “Ohmygosh, I’m so sorry! I just... I didn’t know what it would feel like to have it bond with me! It asked for more power, enough to give to the whole ship, so I just opened up, and I was so focused that I didn’t realize I was losing control! It broke like a dam, and I couldn’t close it right off, but-” She trailed off.
Hipparcos was laughing heartily. “Well! At least we know we have some surplus power!” He chortled again, then straightened up. “You’re quite a talented young mare, Twilight. I can see why Celestia took you under her wing; if you hadn’t learned to take control of that power, you might’ve fried me. Or worse, punched a hole in the ship.”
Twilight blushed for a moment, then realized that her hooves were firmly on the ground and that her hair was hanging limp over her head and hind legs. She glanced around at the illuminated runes. “So I guess it worked? No problems?”
The stallion closed his eyes and his horn briefly gleamed. “None that I can feel; you did a good job. And with that out of the way, we can now start our journey in earnest.”


*        *        *


Celestia continued to stare into the sky, despite full knowledge that she couldn’t possibly see anything. The craft was too small to sense by her own power, and too far away for her earthly avatar to spot. The trail it had streaked through the atmosphere had long since faded, but still she stared.
Another pony slunk up behind her, so light-footed that Celestia saw her before she heard her. “They’re gone, Sister,” said she to Luna, sounding almost disappointed. “It’s out of our hooves.”
Princess Luna followed her elder sister’s line of sight, and gave a slight nod. “Thou hast prepared for this event for five thousand years. Finally, it has come time for us to rest. There is naught left that we can do.”
        Celestia’s expression shifted, hardening slightly. She still felt driven to do something, to continue working toward her subjects’ safety, though she didn't know what. Perhaps she had simply grown accustomed to it, stuck like a muscle that has been held in place so long that it can’t be put to rest. She worked to soothe that impulsive part of her mind.
In the morning Apollyon would return to the Earth, and so would begin the delicate dance to retain peace among the populace while dodging the Elements’ vindictive might. But even should they fail, the planet could be safe. Lacking its Diarchs, perhaps, but safe nonetheless. They would be safe.
A white streak drew across the sky, the reflection of Celestia’s light off of a metal surface. Had she really been standing out here long enough for them to orbit?
Luna must have noticed this as well. “Thou truly shouldst be asleep, my sister.”
With a reluctant sigh of exhaustion, Celestia relented. “I suppose you are right.”