> Wonderbirds: Chasing the Darkness
>  by 8_Bit
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> I: Onwards and Upwards
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Relentless sunshine beat down upon the dense canopy, casting dappled shadows on the narrow trail that wound its way through the lush flora. The jungle seemed to echo with the symphony of wildlife, from the distant calls of exotic birds to the chirping of unseen insects. Earthy scents of damp soil and decaying leaves mingled with the heady fragrance of tropical flowers.  Combined, they created a sensory feast that hung in the moist air. Thick underbrush almost seemed to reach up towards the treeline above, curving around the trail in a peculiar way that appeared to form a near-perfect tunnel through the trees.

As she galloped along, beads of sweat glistened on Pinkie Pie's brow, streaming down her face and soaking into her tank top. The path ahead was uneven, strewn with roots and fallen branches, demanding her full attention. Each fall of her hooves kicked up small clouds of dust, adding to the hazy, dreamlike quality of the jungle. Despite the sweltering heat and the physical challenges of the terrain, a sense of exhilaration coursed through Pinkie's veins. Harmony Island was a veritable nature reserve in its own right, mostly untouched by the hooves of ponykind. This particular region of the isle was treated by its few equine inhabitants as sacred ground. They could pass through it, observe it, Fluttershy had even taken to cataloguing it, but under no circumstances were they to interfere with it. Pinkie loved running through its winding trails, trip hazards be damned.

With every pounding heartbeat, Pinkie's muscles started to cry out in protest. Like a symphony of ache and fatigue that began to resonate throughout her whole body. The heat bore down on her like an invisible weight that sapped at her strength and resolve. Oh, but she was so close to her personal record. Even as the sweat stung at her eyes and blurred her vision, she couldn't bring herself to stop yet. She was too determined, especially when she set her sights on a particular goal.

Finally, Pinkie came across the scene of tranquillity she'd been so desperate to reach. It was, quite literally, a breathtaking sight. In front of her, a vast, rippling pond sat nestled within a lush clearing. The pond's surface reflected the azure sky above in gentle undulations, creating a mesmerizing, almost surreal scene. Across the water, a majestic waterfall thundered from the heights of a moss-covered cliff on the opposite shore. It cascaded down and shimmered in the dappled sunlight, sending silvery droplets dancing through the air.

There, right by the waters edge, a small wooden bench had been set up. A rest stop that managed to sit within its habitat without detracting from it. Pinkie made a beeline for the bench, clopping a front hoof down hard on it, and reaching up with her other hoof to stop the timer on her watch. As her chest heaved and her breaths came in heavy puffs, she pulled the water bottle out from her compact saddlebag. She sucked at it with relief. Her nostrils flared as she drank, struggling for air as she put equal priority on quenching her thirst. Much of Pinkie's weight shifted to the trembling hoof resting on the bench, as the exertion of her run finally caught up with her.

She gasped as she drained the final few dregs of water from her bottle, and fell to her haunches. Still shaking, she raised her hoof to eye level to examine her watch. Disbelief washed over her as a colossal grin contorted her face. She had smashed her previous record by an entire twelve seconds. And that record had been set on a day nowhere near as hot as this. Pinkie pattered her front hooves at the ground, her tippy taps of elation only adding to the ambient sounds of jungle wildlife and running water.

Oh! The water. Well, she reasoned, she'd earned a chance to cool down. Swims in the pond were permissible, after all, within the established rules that Fluttershy had set down for the nature reserve. The surface was like a perfect mirror, reflecting the vibrant greens of the surrounding jungle and the cloudless sky. After setting her saddlebag aside, and with cautious steps, Pinkie waded into the crystal-clear water. A slight moan escaped her lips as the refreshing chill enveloped her overheated body. As she ventured in, the pond's depths surrounded her in a gentle, cool embrace. The sensation was pure bliss, a soothing balm to her weary muscles. Her breathing became less laboured as she settled herself in place, hooves resting on the muddy bed of the pond.

In the peace and serenity that settled upon her, Pinkie shut her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy the moment. Cool, refreshing water hugging every inch of her body. A mesmerising cacophony of wilderness sounds echoing around her. The dull roar of the nearby waterfall. Pinkie loved it here, this spot especially. The fact that she was able to call this island her home was something she often found herself unable to believe.

She jumped when she felt something brush against her muzzle. Blinking as she peeked her eyes open, a bemused smile spread across Pinkie's face. She actually had to cross her eyes, but she recognised the faint outline of butterfly wings resting atop her nose. It was a tiny little creature, boasting vibrant pink wings splotched with black polka dots.

"Oh, good morning Mrs. Flutterbug," Pinkie giggled. "How's Mr. Flutterbug today?"

The butterfly twitched its antennae, gave the slightest flutter of its wings, and generally failed to provide any solid impression that it had even heard what Pinkie had said. Let alone even understand her words.

"Yeah? Uh-huh. Oh, is that so? Well, you know how men are, but I'm sure he'll be fine!" Pinkie beamed in reply.

As was the norm for Pinkie's life nowadays, however, the peace and quiet was short-lived. Her riveting conversation was interrupted as her wrist watch trilled with a high pitched tone. It was still loud, despite the fact it was attached to a hoof being held several feet underwater. The butterfly responded immediately, flapping its wings and zooming off into the sky. Pinkie looked around in surprise, trying to watch it as it flew away, but glare from the sun reflecting off the rippling water blinded her to its path.

She suppressed the urge to say a rude word as she raised her watch out of the water. "Go for Pie," she said to it.

"Hey Pinkie, it's Twilight," a voice sounded from a tiny speaker. "Judging from the time, I'm guessing you must be out on your morning run?"

"Uh-huh," Pinkie said, nodding despite the fact her watch was incapable of video calls, rendering it a moot gesture. "I'm out in the West Reserve right now. Just cooling off in the pond with the waterfall."

"Ahh, that's one of my favourite rest stops as well. Anyway, can you get back here as soon as you can please? It looks like we have a rescue for you, but we need to sit down and have a talk about it."

Despite her exhaustion, a fresh wave of adrenaline flooded into Pinkie's chest. "And when you specifically say a rescue for me, do you mean..."

Her watch chuckled. "Yes, Pinkie, I mean it's a space rescue. But it's not exactly straightforward. Get back to the villa, shower yourself off, and meet me in the lounge so I can explain."

"Copy that, see you soon."

Anticipation seemed to send Pinkie into overdrive as she surged towards the edge of the pond. The water clung to her fur, cool and invigorating, as she scrambled up the mossy bank. Droplets cascaded from her body, creating a shimmering trail in the warm sunlight. Standing at the water's edge, she took a moment to steady herself as a single thought danced in her mind: she would be taking Wonderbird Three out for a serious rescue. Its first mission in months, finally. A triumphant grin spread across Pinkie's face as she watched the waterfall for a moment. She contemplated the endless supply and shuttle runs. For what felt like an eternity, her only space duties had been ferrying Rarity back and forth to Wonderbird Five for her tours of duty. As if her magnificent rocket was nothing more than a giant red taxi.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, determination surged through Pinkie once more. She donned her saddlebag and sprinted away from the pond, the jungle trail seeming to point her home, and the world around her turned to a blur as she raced back towards Harmony Villa. Wonderbird Three was her craft, a towering rocket of fiery red that dwarfed Wonderbirds One and Two, but space rescues were few and far between. Ponykind was only now starting to reach the true potentials of space travel, and there were only a few inhabited stations in orbit. Additionally, to best of Pinkie's knowledge, there were only two missions of exploration currently under way from any global space agency. 

Her mind reeled with possibilities as her second wind propelled her homewards. Though dramatic in its potential consequences and harrowing for its survivors, much of Pinkie's back-catalogue of space rescues had been borderline mundane compared to ones pulled off on Equis by Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and even Fluttershy. On her last outing, at least, one that hadn't been a trip to bring Rarity to or from Wonderbird Five, Pinkie had been tasked with tracking down an astronaut from the GRIFF-X Space Station. His safety tether had broken during a spacewalk. She'd found the griffon adrift somewhere over Brayzil with plenty of time (and oxygen) to spare, and dutifully returned him to his station. He was dropped off with well wishes, advice for overcoming the vertigo, and some strong opinions about rope manufacturers.

Compared to the high-octane, often explosive rescues that were pulled off within the safety of an atmosphere, some ponies could be forgiven for considering the space rescues a charge riddled with mundanity.  Pinkie, however, had a touch more insight. Her job may have been repetitive, but it was never boring. Plus, she was often called upon to assist with a plethora of rescues, and spent more time in the jumpseat of Wonderbird Two than she did her own rocket. Drama and loud explosions, she was happy to leave those problems down on terra firma. It wouldn't do her any favours to wish such excitement upon anypony in space.

Before too long, Pinkie had left the nature reserve behind. By the time she was entering the part of the island that bore more signs of civilisation, her wet clothes had begun to dry off. She slowed to a jog as the dirt path underhoof made way for paved stones that emitted loud clops with every step. Dense trees thinned out, replaced by a thicket of shrubs that rose to shoulder height. And as Pinkie rounded a corner, a short but wide staircase rose in front of her, embedded into the side of a rocky cliff face. She jogged up, emerging at the top by the side of a large swimming pool. To her right, the cliff face rose higher and higher, and to the left was the pool with the Pintocific Ocean stretching into the horizon beyond. In front of her, up another flight of stairs, sat Harmony Villa. Its sleek and modern lines, jet black polarised glass windows and sprawling balconies would have contrasted harshly with the terrain, were it not for the well cared-for plants and shrubs that nestled it into its surroundings.

From the pool, the sounds of splashing drew Pinkie's attention. A short-cropped mane of pale pink skimmed above the surface of the water, bobbing along as its owner swam laps. Behind the pool, Pinkie could see a sunglass-clad Rarity snoozing gently on a sun lounger. The towel loosely wrapped around her rose and fell with every subdued breath. Her spells of duty on Wonderbird Five operated on a monthly rotation, three weeks on-board and one week of rest. None of them would begrudge Rarity the chance to relax in the sun during her time on back on the island.

Reaching the edge of the pool as she finished a lap, Fluttershy made to twist herself around to start another. She paused when she spotted Pinkie.

"Hey," Fluttershy called out, stretching her wings as she rested a hoof on the poolside. "Did you have a good run?"

"Pretty good, beat my record from here to the Waterfall Pond," Pinkie replied, wiping a line of fresh sweat from her brow. "And I saw the most amazing little pink butterfly while I was cooling off in the water."

"Pink butterfly? Did it have stripes or spots?"

"Err... spots, why?"

"How many on each wing?"

"...six, I think?"

Fluttershy thought for about two seconds. "Oh, that's Derek. He's such a sweetheart."

"Wait, what?" Pinkie gasped, an ear drooping. "Mrs. Flutterbug's first name is Derek?"

As Fluttershy tilted her head in confusion, both her and Pinkie jumped slightly as Rarity let out a single, loud snore. This was followed by a contented moan, a re-adjustment of her position, and then silence again. Pinkie and Fluttershy grinned at each other, suppressing laughter.

"Anyhoo," Pinkie continued. "I need to go shower off and report to Twilight."

Both of Fluttershy's ears perked up. "A rescue?"

"That's what she told me. See you later!"

Having been in the rescue game long enough, Pinkie had grown used to judging the severity of any situation purely by Twilight's initial reactions. Absolute crisis, perilous situation, immediate action needed? Twilight's orders would have been for Pinkie to get back, launch immediately, and she would be given instructions when airborne. Today, following the directive of getting home, showered, and meeting with Twilight to discuss the situation? Well, it had to be an urgent situation, Equestrial Rescue didn't launch for anypony and everypony for the sake of saving a cat from a tree. Twilight would have dismissed it immediately if she didn't think they were needed. But they had some time to work out a plan, that made things less stressful.

When she was feeling refreshed, showered and basking in a post-workout glow, Pinkie trotted into the lounge. Twilight was sat at her desk, a panoramic view of the ocean framed in the full-height window behind her. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy lazed on a nearby sofa, the latter wrapped up in a towel and still looking damp from the pool. Twilight's face lit up as Pinkie entered.

"Excellent, thank you for your promptness, Pinkie. Have a seat and we'll get started."

As Pinkie settled into a plush armchair, both Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy sat to attention. It was possible that Rainbow Dash had also been summoned by Twilight, but Fluttershy appeared to be there out of curiosity more than necessity.

"So," Twilight began. "Firstly Pinkie, I'd like to ask you, what do you know about Project Duskwalker?"

Pinkie's pulse raced and her shoulders tensed as the gravity of the situation dawned on her. "Duskwalker is one of STEED's latest missions, and probably the most expensive to date. It's a mobile research lab stationed on the planet Marecury. Well... research lab doesn't really even cut it, it's a ginormous tracked machine that's supposed to stay in constant motion. Last I heard, the mission was underway and going well."

"It was going well," Twilight corrected. "Until a few hours ago when they lost contact. The crawler was stationary at the time the communications went dead, pausing to drill some material samples from the planet’s surface. But it missed its rendezvous to get underway again, and as of the most recent satellite photos, it still hasn't started moving."

"So, they're just broken down?" Rainbow Dash interjected. "What's the problem, why don't STEED just send somepony out with... do they have tow trucks for giant mobile labs?"

Uncomfortable silence emanated throughout the room. The sheer ludicrousness of Dash's comment took a moment to fully settle upon all of them.

"Err... not really, Dashie," Pinkie replied, moments after the awkwardness peaked. "Duskwalker is too big, there isn't any kind of machinery that STEED has in stock that could just... pull it along. And that's not even the biggest problem."

"Nope, daylight is," Twilight confirmed.

Never one to miss the opportunity to double down on looking silly, Rainbow Dash tilted her head to one side. "Huh?"

"Marecury is the closest planet to our sun," Pinkie explained with a roll of her eyes. "During the daytime, the temperature can reach as much as four hundred degrees. And then at night, it plummets to one hundred and eighty degrees below. The thermal insulation on the crawler is designed for extreme low temperatures, because for safety reasons they deemed it better to operate in the night zone. It's super good at standing up to the cold, but the heat could do some really bad damage. That's why it's a mobile lab, it's constantly moving so it can stay in the darkness. I don't think it would last more than a few minutes if direct light got to it."

The weight of the situation hung in the air, but Rainbow Dash seemed to be going for a hat-trick of asking silly questions. "Those... those temperatures. Were they in Fahrenheit or Celsius?"

Twilight leaned forward against her desk. "First one, then the other," she deadpanned. "So, in short: the crawler has stopped moving, their communications are dead, and if the sun rises on them? Everycreature on board will be charbroiled alive. Any other questions, Rainbow Dash?"

"Nope, I'm good," Dash replied, slumping deeper into the sofa cushion and pursing her lips as her ears twitched.

"Alrighty then. So we can start working out a plan."

"Wait a second. You said everycreature, not everypony. Have STEED given you a crew manifest?" Pinkie asked.

"Mmhmm, I've got it right here," Twilight nodded, tilting her head towards the computer screen on her desk. "The full crew complement is seventeen ponies, three minotaurs, six griffons and a changeling."

Fluttershy cocked her head towards Pinkie. "You didn't know it wasn't just ponies on board?"

"STEED never said there were other creatures on board. They announced the number of crew and that was that. For a research mission on such a hostile planet, they sure were vague about a lot of details."

"I imagine they had their reasons," Twilight mused, ever taking the path of diplomacy. "Quietly building a culture of co-operation between races and organisations, likely. Imagine the publicity after their return journey. Emerging victorious, and revealing that it had been four races working together on a mission of discovery. You'd never be able to buy that much good press."

"Hang on," Rainbow Dash interjected, her tail flicking in agitation. "Return journey? That's something, how were they supposed to get back in the first place?"

"The main body of their ship is orbiting the planet," Pinkie explained. "And the crawler is fitted with escape modules. When the time came for them to return home, the plan was for them to launch from the crawler and dock with the main ship."

"So... why don't they just do that?"

Okay, that was a reasonable question. "If the communications are down..." Pinkie said, trailing off at the end of her sentence as she looked to Twilight for confirmation.

"Exactly right," Twilight obliged. "The main ship also acts as a communications relay between them and STEED. I have the data right here, the line between STEED and the ship is operating perfectly. But from the ship to Duskwalker, that line is currently down. They could try to launch, but they have no way of knowing where their ship is to dock with. It'd be like throwing darts in a pitch black room."

"Okay then Twily," Pinkie said, sitting up straight. "What's the plan, repair or extraction?"

Twilight leant back in her chair as her ears folded slightly downwards. "When Bright Star made the emergency call, she begged for us to focus on repairing the crawler, citing the value of the research on board. I just told her we'd do the best we can, but ultimately our job is saving lives, not property."

That was a mark change from the younger Twilight that Pinkie had first come to know all those years ago back in Ponyville. That Twilight would have sympathised on valuing research above all else. The more mature, coolheaded Twilight knew better. Machines could be rebuilt, experiments re-attempted, but there was no bringing back the deceased. Save lives first, that was the mantra she'd aspired to when she'd founded Equestrial Rescue.

"Alright," Dash said, rising to her hooves. "Enough talking then, we know what we're up against, let's go."

"Hang on, Rainbow Dash," Twilight interjected. "There's one other thing we need to discuss."

The cyan mare stood dumbfounded. "What do you mean, 'other thing'? Time's a-wasting, let's go already!"

"This is not a straightforward mission, and there is one more layer of complication. Now please, sit down."

Grumbling, Rainbow Dash perched herself back onto the edge of the sofa.

"It took STEED nearly three months to reach Marecury," Twilight explained. "Our technology is a few decades ahead of them, so we can cut a huge chunk out of that journey time. But it will still take about two weeks, each way, which amounts to being away in space for at least a month."

The room was silent for a moment. "Can we even get there in time?" Fluttershy asked. "I mean, if it's two weeks to get there, and they only have until sunrise?"

"Marecury days are longer than Equis days," Pinkie explained. "Fifty eight and a half here, is one there. So a night there lasts for about twenty nine days."

"It'll be tight, for sure," Twilight added. "Based on their position at the time of breaking down, I'd say they were about sixteen Equis days ahead of sunrise. So we'll have two days to play with. But it's not just a timing issue, it's also a personnel issue, for lack of a better term."

"Meaning what, exactly?" Rainbow Dash asked, raising an eyebrow as she cocked her head.

"Meaning... well, I know it's our standard practise for you to be Pinkie's co-pilot on space operations. But... I don't think it's entirely wise that Wonderbird One should be without a pilot for such an extended period of time. Nor Wonderbirds Two, Four or Five."

"Hang on a sec... that's why you didn't put a call out to me either, why I had to hear about this from Fluttershy! If you're saying what I think you're saying... then you want to send Pinkie to one of the most dangerous places any of us have ever set hoof... and you want her to go alone!?"

Twilight took a deep breath before she answered. "Yes."

All it took was this single word, and immediate rage was unleashed. Rainbow Dash was on her hooves again, roaring her disapproval to Twilight. And for a few moments Twilight appeared to take the abuse with calm acceptance. Her ears slumped all the way down and she hung her head, her eyes fixated on a spot on her desk, as she seemed to be mouthing silent reassurances to herself.

"Dashie."

The room fell silent, as Pinkie's quiet utterance somehow cut through Rainbow Dash's furious yells. Three pairs of eyes turned towards Pinkie. Rainbow Dash, her chest heaving and nostrils flaring. Twilight, her eyes glassy and ears still hung low. Fluttershy, who appeared to be undecided on whose side she should take, and had settled for looking bewildered.

"You don't need to lash out at Twilight like that," Pinkie murmured. "She's right, we can't afford to lose anypony else for such a long time. Say if somepony needed help and Wonderbird One was the only thing quick enough to get to them in time. What then?"

"But Pinkie, I-"

"And I know you're only angry because you're protective of me. Of all of us. But we all agreed, when we signed up for this, that Twilight was in charge. That we knew she wouldn't make any decision lightly. And you, Dashie, you're not just doubting her judgement, right now you're acting like I'm not able to do this myself. I know it's dangerous, I know the risks. And I don't care, there are creatures up there that are in danger. I'm going."

Rainbow Dash's tail twitched as she seemed to consider this. Her eyes were unfocused, and a vein pulsed on her forehead. Tense moments passed inexorably by, until finally, she let out a deep sigh, hanging her head down low as she clenched her eyes shut.

"Twilight," she whispered. "Permission to be excused?"

"Permission granted, Dash."

"Thank you. And I'm... I'm sorry for shouting at you."

"Apology accepted."

Deafening quiet fell on the room, broken only by the light clopping of Rainbow Dash's hooves against the hard wooden floor. Fluttershy seemed to take this as an opportunity for slipping out as well. She whispered reassurances as she went, that she'd give Rainbow Dash a moment of peace before she went to check on her. When the exiting hoofsteps faded to silence, Pinkie and Twilight looked at each other.

"So," Twilight said, coughing awkwardly. "You're sure you're up to this?"

Pinkie nodded. "Absitively posolutely."

"Alright then." A small smile clawed at the edges of Twilight's face, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Rarity's next tour of duty wasn't supposed to start until tomorrow. She might not be too pleased about a premature end to her week of rest, but better a day early than a month late. Please go fetch her, and then prep Wonderbird Three for immediate launch."

Silence. Stillness. Pinkie Pie remained in her seat, frowning to herself as she seemed to be mulling something over in her head.

"Pinkie?"

A few more moments passed before she finally spoke. "I think... I think we should wait. For a day, maybe two."

Though she had requested a rocket launch, it was in fact Twilight's eyebrows that made a rapid ascent. "You... think we should wait? Wait for what, exactly?"

Pinkie rose to her hooves, making her way over to join Twilight behind her desk. She wordlessly ushered the alicorn aside as she stood herself in front of the small computer. Tapping at the keyboard, she worked her way through a complex system of menus and options that comprised Equestrial Rescue's computer interface. Soon she landed on what Twilight recognised as a real-time map of the solar system. Pinkie zoomed in, focusing on the sun and the innermost three planets.

"So there's us, Equis," Pinkie explained, gesturing to the third planet orbiting out from the sun. "And there's Marecury. Launching right now, I don't think Equis is in the best position for us to get there as quickly as we're able to. At least, I'm pretty sure we're not."

To illustrate this, she programmed the computer to plot an optimal course between the two planets. Additionaly she asked it to calculate the time it would take to travel, if they launched immediately. It took a few moments, but soon the map of the solar system had a line curving across it. The forecasted time for transit was fourteen days, eleven hours and thirty six minutes. Near enough exactly correct to the two weeks that Twilight had said it would take.

"But, if we wait just a day or two," Pinkie continued. "I think that planet Veneigh will be in a good position for Wonderbird Three to slingshot around it with a gravity assist, and get to Marecury sooner."

She entered this request into the computer. It took a bit longer for the computer to process. On top of plotting an optimal course and calculating the travel time, Pinkie had also asked it to work out what time and date they would need to launch to get to Marecury as soon as possible. She fought the urge to look smug as the route and figures popped up on the screen. Ten days, six hours and thirteen minutes, if they departed at twenty seven minutes past seven in the morning, the day after tomorrow.

"Wait two days, and we gain two days," she chuckled, and her tail seemed to bounce around in satisfaction.

The smile that spread across Twilight's face was a wonder to behold. "You worked that out in your head?"

Pinkie shrugged. "Ain't nothing to it, Twilight. And it means Rarity gets an extra day of rest in the sun. I'm always looking out for the wellbeing of my friends, you know?"





"This is 'Three calling base, me and 'Five are in position, requesting startup clearance."

"Startup clearance granted, 'Three."

Pinkie and Rarity set themselves to work. As they started pressing buttons and performing checks, the dark cockpit of Wonderbird Three became alive with glowing lights. Switches and screens flickered into life, illuminating the two mares strapped into their seats. Pinkie was seated in the primary control position, and Rarity operated a supplemental backup console.

"Activating engine sequence," Pinkie said.

"Engine sequence is a go," Rarity confirmed. "Anti-detection shield is green, hydraulic systems green."

"Set primary fuel pumps."

"Primary fuel pumps are set, redundant pumps on standby."

Somewhere far below them, a deep throbbing whir began to emanate from the bowels of the rocket. The change was immediate, as propellants, oxidisers and coolants began circulating. Vital fluids, breathing life into the dormant machine, like rousing a mighty dragon from its slumber. The vibrations steadily increased, reverberating throughout the body of Wonderbird Three as if its pulse was rising to full strength.

"Retro systems are green," Rarity continued. "Guidance systems are green. Engine sequencing complete."

"Check reactor stability," Pinkie requested.

There was a pause as Rarity examined her screens. "Fusion reactor is stable," she confirmed.

“Ion drive?”

“Green and standing by.”

"Life support systems?"

"All online and green."

"'Three to base, requesting clearance to open launch doors."

"Clearance granted, 'Three," Twilight's voice replied. "You may open when ready."

"Copy that, base. Opening launch doors and preparing for thrust check."

Pinkie flicked a switch, and somewhere high up in the darkness, a colossal orchestra of machinery began to stir. Deep, rumbling vibrations resonated down the sides of the hangar, as the dark yielded to sunlight. Above Wonderbird Three, light bore down in the perfect outline of a three-pronged star, as the building sat atop began to segment and slide apart. The Roundhouse, home to the main library on Harmony Island, became alive with hissing and rumbling as airlocks slid into place. Splitting into perfect thirds, the neat slices of the building inched gradually out of the way, in preparation for the launch of the rocket housed below it.

This was the slowest part of the launch. A great deal of the background systems that made Wonderbird Three function would bring themselves online automatically. This was part of a digital domino chain preceeded by the manual startup of the core systems. Pinkie, Rarity and sometimes Rainbow Dash (when co-piloting) would often sit silently during this time, monitoring the various systems starting up. It killed time as they waited for the launch doors to fully open, before takeoff could proceed.

"We have confirmation, 'Three, launch doors open and locked," Twilight's voice said from their headsets.

Pinkie confirmed this on her screens. "I'm showing full open and lock here too."

"All subsystems online and functioning correctly." Rarity added.

"Same here, all subsystems green," Pinkie agreed. "We are go for thrust check."

Reaching out to the throttle lever, Pinkie nudged it forward until she heard a small click as it locked into launch position. The effect this had on the rocket was immediate. Well and truly awoken from their slumber, the colossal engines at Wonderbird Three's base roared into life. A deep, throaty grumble echoed through the cavernous hangar. Flames began to lick at the launchpad, the blast ducts diverting the inferno away from the craft. So strong was the vacuum effect, not even a puff of smoke managed to rise up and away from the fire below. The vibrations in the cockpit increased tenfold, juddering Pinkie and Rarity in their seats.

"Ten million pounds of thrust," Pinkie observed. "It's holding steady. Arm gantries and umbilicals for retraction."

"Armed for retraction, confirmed."

"Go."

Down the length of Wonderbird Three, a labyrinthine web of crisscrossing girders and metallic tendrils began to detach themselves. One by one, they sprang to life. Fuel lines and conduits leapt away from the rocket and pressed themselves against the surrounding walls. It was as if they were steeling themselves for the apocalyptic event to come, as roaring engines passed them by. Each lifeline between Wonderbird Three and its support systems in the hangar slid away in a harmonious ballet, accompanied by loud clicks and hisses as openings on the rocket's hull sealed themselves shut. A shimmering cloud of vapour began to form. Born of liquids dripping from curling and coiling pipes, it was swiftly dragged down and out of sight by the incessant force of air pulled by the ferocious engines.

"All gantries retracted and stowed, and all external ports locked and ready," Rarity announced.

"Copy that, system status for electromagnetic assist?"

"Electromagnetic assist, green and ready."

Pinkie took a deep, steadying breath. "All checks complete and good to go, base, Wonderbird Three requesting launch clearance."

"Launch clearance granted, 'Three. Good luck."

Turning to Rarity and grinning, Pinkie began her countdown. "Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Go."

Within a fraction of a second, two things happened. First a powerful array of docking clamps, that anchored Wonderbird Three in place atop its launch pad, all released in perfect unison. Second, either side of the rocket's hangar, two gigantic pairs of rails sat opposite each other came alive with electric current. Lengths of conductive alloy that ran the full height of the cavernous space, from pad to doorway, crackled with immense power as the current flowed through the strips and into Wonderbird Three. Rather than ignite any explosive material housed within the rocket, the electricity instead generated a magnetic field that encompassed the entire machine. The electrical current exerted a force on the magnetic field, one that was perpendicular to the direction of the rails: straight up. The result of this was instantaneous.

Riding within the electromatic field and propelled by the thrust of its engines, Wonderbird Three launched upwards with blinding speed. Pinkie Pie and Rarity found themselves pressed hard into their seats by the immense forces sending them skyward. The vibrations abated ever so slightly, but only because of the acceleration that had taken their place. Within a second, the three-pronged star of daylight above them had taken up the entirety of the cockpit windscreen. They soared past the trisected library and into the sky.

"Clear of launch area," Pinkie called out. "Go for maximum thrust."

And with that, she pushed her throttle lever all the way forwards. The world behind Pinkie and Rarity exploded as the engines surged into full power. Vibrations that had previously eased off returned with a vengeance. Wonderbird Three charged upwards with a renewed vigour. Forces being reaped upon the two mares seemed to pull them back down into their seats, with ferocity that threatened to squeeze the air from their lungs. The rocket ascended, with Pinkie Pie and Rarity both trembling in their safety harnesses as their muscles strained against the pull of gravity. Were it not for their helmets, the noise would have been deafening.

But Pinkie couldn't help herself. She whooped and hollered as they rose higher and higher, up into the stratosphere and away from Harmony Island. Spurred on by Pinkie's glee, Rarity let out fits of laughter as she found herself once again revelling in the thrill of the ride. And what a ride it was. Nothing on Equis could compare to this.

"Wonderbird Three is go," Pinkie declared, cackling to herself.
> II: Desolate New Horizons
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Space. The final fun tier. These are the voyages of the starship... PFFFT, nope. Okay, there's no way I can keep that up!"

Readjusting the stance in her seat, something difficult to do in zero gravity, Pinkie Pie swallowed the urge to burst into a self-imposed giggling fit. She continued talking to the small camera mounted to the console, opting to drop the low, dramatic voice in favour of her regular speaking tones.

"So, daily log number ten! Yeah, tenth day on board Wonderbird Three, it's... pfft, hehehe... it's flown by! Which means I'm just a few hours away from Marecury. Going by the ship time, same time zone as Harmony Island, it's currently eight thirty in the morning. So it's all going super duper smooth, we're on schedule for the planned arrival, which should be in five hours and ten minutes. I can actually see the planet ahead of me right now, just out the windscreen, but it's still a ways off."

She paused to take a sip from a silver pouch. It contained a fruity yogurt, mixed with a number of vitamin supplements to counter the detrimental effects of space travel. Not exactly haute cuisine, but like all the other food rations on-board, it was sufficient to her needs. Nothing more, nothing less.

"It's a pretty straightforward plan. The gravity assist from Veneigh gave me exactly the slingshot effect I needed to catch up to Marecury, but now I've gotta slow down enough to enter orbit. Wonderbird Three's computer's can handle the basic course corrections, but I'll need to run some burns of the retro rockets to bring our speed down a smidge, just so I don't catapult myself off into deep space."

Taking another mouthful of yogurt, the thoughts of careening out into the empty black nothingness lingered just long enough to feel uncomfortable. She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind.

"So the first burn will be in... hang on." She tapped at one of the screens. "Three hours, thirty eight minutes. This will be the capture burn, which will insert Wonderbird Three into position for another burn about an hour afterwards, when we reach apoapsis. Oh, that's a big big word, umm, how can I explain it... well basically the first burn will put us into a sort-of orbit, but it'll be in an oval shape, and we don't want that. A good planetary orbit should be a nice, neat circle. So we do the second burn at the highest point of the oval, also known as the apoapsis, just to squish that oval down into an actual circle. Make sense?"

The camera, only filming and not transmitting a video call, didn't reply.

"Finally, once I'm in a stable orbit, I can locate the Duskwalker on the surface. Then it's just one last burn to get Wonderbird Three into freefall, down to the surface of the planet where I can get this rescue party underway! I'd kinda hoped by this point that Rarity or STEED would have at least heard something from the crawler, but nope! Not a peep, nothing from them. If they'd started moving again or called in to say they're all good, plan was for me to abort and skedaddle back home. Not even one of them stepping outside for a stroll, so I guess I just gotta carry on, see what's down there, and just... just do a rescue, I guess?"

Pinkie sighed. She hated not knowing what she was walking into.

"So that's the plan for today. It's been a pretty smooth trip, Twilight asked me to keep an eye on the ion accelerators, see how they stand up when they're going full power for days and days, and they're running just fine. She's still not too happy about me being away for so long, she says that when I get back, she wants to overhaul them and cut the trip time down to five days. Yeesh, she needs to slow herself down a bit. And the last I heard, Rarity's sunburn is finally healing up. I told her she needs to be more careful, but I made sure to bring an extra few bottles of pelt lotion when I dropped her off on Wonderbird Five, and she says it's helping."

She thought for a moment. There was one more thing she had wanted to get off her chest. What was it...

"Oh! And Twilight finally managed to talk to Dashie about her little 'outburst' before I left. They went for a hike up to the big cliffs in the East Reserve, just the two of them. She thinks that Dash is feeling a bit stressed and overworked, so she's bringing her shore leave forward a few months. When I get home, I'll be getting a refresher course on piloting Wonderbird One, and Dashie's gonna spend a few weeks in Cloudsdale. Twilight thinks we need a better solution though, a long term one. I asked if there's anypony else who could stand in as backup pilots when need be, and she's gonna reach out to ask Scootaloo once their racing season ends. I think it'll be good for Dashie as well, something about having Scootaloo around really brings out the best in her. Training a young padawan could do her so much good!"

The console trilled and beeped, and Pinkie felt the seat jostle against her as Wonderbird Three tilted. It was a course correction, a brief burst from one of the external manoeuvring engines to keep the rocket on the correct path.

"Blah blah blah, spacey space space, I've got my checks to run before we get there, so I'm signing off. Later, taters!"

Over the next few hours, Pinkie kept herself busy. Even after days of travel through space, she never found time to waste on things like boredom. She ran her diagnostic checks on all the on-board systems, radioed her morning report through to Rarity on Wonderbird Five, had a brief spacewalk to inspect the exterior of the ship, and then finished with a morning run tethered down to her treadmill. Zero gravity made movement and lifting a lot easier, but she had to adhere to a strict exercise routine to avoid suffering from atrophy.

By the time she'd washed herself off post-workout, she found herself back at Wonderbird Three's controls with a few minutes to spare before she needed to carry out the first burn. Marecury was a gleaming celestial jewel, hung in the black void ahead. The polarised windscreen just about managed to dim the brilliant glare of the sun bouncing off the rocky surface. As an added layer of precaution, she had already donned her full uniform, helmet and all. Pinkie's heart raced, and she pulled her seat harness tight.

"Ready to burn retros for insertion orbit... burning in three, two, one..."

A powerful roar filled her ears as she felt herself thrown forward in her seat. Wonderbird Three jolted and juddered, vibrations coursing through the frame of the entire ship, and transmitting the fiery intensity into Pinkie's chair. What a wild ride, this put the Poney Island rollercoaster to shame. Despite the deceleration underway, Marecury grew and grew through the window, The surface became clearer, as indistinguishable masses of grey evolved into rugged craters and long scarry trails carved into the surface. Realising she'd been holding onto a breath, Pinkie let out a loud gasp as she cast her eyes over her gauges and dials. Despite the rocky ride, she was on course. Though forceful and not especially gentle on her tailbone, the descent proceeded without incident. 

She completed both burns to bring Wonderbird Three into a stable orbit, and it was soon after that she caught her first glimpse of the Duskwalker. It stood out against the bleak, rocky terrain. The crawler was built out of three modules, each the size of a city block, painted in neon orange, and shaped like a long, thin triangular prism with rounded edges. Connecting each module were chunky black tubes that no doubt contained pipes, wires and cables wrapped in heavy insulation, as well as airlocked walkways to get between each section. All three modules sat on gigantic caterpillar tracks, ones that must have been several stories tall by themselves. Pinkie had seen the computer renders of Duskwalker, but seeing it for real, she could see it was on another level to anything else that STEED had built before.

Letting Wonderbird Three make one more orbit, Pinkie programmed the computer to plot a course to bring her down to land in close proximity to the crawler. It obliged, calculating a landing just a short distance from the frontmost module. The time spent waiting ticked by at an agonising pace as the rocket floated high above the craggy planet. It took a great deal of patience, and constantly squinted eyes against blinding sunlight, but following the guidance, she waited until she was about halfway around her orbit before she initiated a gentle burn of the retros. In sharp contrast to the violence of the deceleration, the engines purred gently against the vacuum of space. Pinkie's hooves made delicate movements on the controls. Crater shadows on the ground grew longer and longer, until she passed back into the relative shelter of the night-time region. Surface details became larger and clearer, Duskwalker came back into view over the horizon, and with a loud humming noise as Wonderbird Three's landing skids extended, Pinkie settled her rocket down with a gentle poof onto the dusty surface of Marecury.

She clicked switches, pulled levers, and ran through a quick checklist as the whining engines ticked down to silence. For the first time in over a week, there was not a single noise to be heard. As she worked through the list, she couldn't help but be aware of the renewed presence of gravity. Previously she'd been harnessed to her seat to stop herself floating away, but now with Wonderbird Three sat upright on the rocky surface, Pinkie could feel the effect of the gravity pulling her downwards. Or, from her perspective facing up into the black sky, backwards into her seat. When she was satisfied that the checklist was complete and that everything was in order, a flash of adrenaline rushed into her chest. Her breath caught in her throat as she realised she was moments away from setting hoof on an entirely new planet.

"Wonderbird Three calling Duskwalker," she called out on her radio. "This is Wonderbird Three calling Duskwalker. Do you read me? Over."

No reply. 

"'Three to 'Five, do you read me?"

There was a brief pause before her headset crackled to life with Rarity's voice. "This is 'Five reading you loud and clear, 'Three."

Pinkie sighed, her shoulders releasing tension she hadn't been aware she was carrying. "Okay, good. I've successfully landed on the surface of Marecury, about half a kilometre in front of Duskwalker. No response when I'm trying to hail them, so I'm gonna head on over and see if I can't slip in through an airlock."

Another short pause preceded Rarity's reply. "Copy that, 'Three, keep us updated."

Huh. Pinkie frowned at the radio as a thought occurred to her. "Hey 'Five, stand by a sec, I wanna run a latency test." She cleared her throat, and sang. "Come on, everypony..."

Lo and behold, the pause before Rarity's reply of 'smile smile smile' was consistent in length to her previous two messages. 

"Okay 'Five, looks like we've got about an eight second delay on voice comms. I think the radiation from the sun might be causing some interference. It shouldn't be too big a deal, just bear it in mind."

Pinkie's lips silently mouthed numbers one through eight before Rarity's voice sounded a "Copy that, 'Three."

Steeling herself, Pinkie unstrapped herself from her seat, and made the slightly awkward journey from the cockpit to Wonderbird Three's main outer airlock. The adrenaline still danced in her chest. With a hiss and a click, the outer door swung open, and in an instant she felt the temperature plummet. A chill ran over her whole body. Her suit would protect her from the extremities, but at a balmy one hundred and seventy three degrees below zero, she wasn't surprised to feel some of the cold. As the access ladder began to lower itself to the ground, Pinkie couldn't help but take in the view. Though shrouded in darkness, she was awestruck by the dusty canvas of scorched rock, cracked and desiccated by the merciless fury of the sun. Just a short distance away, the hulking mass of Duskwalker seemed comically out of place in the desolate wasteland.

A chiming alarm signalled that the ladder had extended all the way to ground level. Not needing any further invitation, Pinkie began her descent. As she lowered herself down, the difference of gravitational strength between here and home became more apparent. She knew from her studies that Marecury gravity was roughly one third the strength of Equis gravity, but feeling the difference was what really hit home. She didn't feel quite as light as she had on lunar excursions, but it was still a huge difference. Pinkie decided she didn't need to do the ladder one rung at a time. She held the outer support with all four hooves, and let herself slide gracefully down to ground level.

She yelped in surprise as she slid down into a cloud of grey dust. Then she kicked herself, Marecury had no atmosphere and very little gravity. Of course the dust that Wonderbird Three had kicked up during landing was going to just linger in the... Pinkie's gut instinct was to say 'air', but there wasn't any of that here. So her first steps on a new world lost some of their significance as she put greater focus on making her way out of the haze. Her hooves brushed the ashen surface as she walked, every step feeling like she might accidentally push off the ground and float away. She tried some running jumps. And as she sailed forwards in slow bounds, she couldn't help but let out snorts of laughter as she drifted off the ground with ease.

Losing herself in the experience for a short while, she came back around to her senses when she realised she had long since cleared the dust cloud. Heck, she'd closed most of the distance to the Duskwalker. She looked back for a moment, admiring Wonderbird Three. Though the lingering ash obscured most of its lower half, Pinkie couldn't help but swell with pride as she took in its sharp lines and its slender form. Her Wonderbird, a crimson arrowhead that had soared across the cosmos in a little over a week. 

"Jeepers," she muttered, a lump forming in her throat. "I really love this job."

After a few more minutes, Pinkie found herself approaching the caterpillar tracks of the Duskwalker. Her assessment from above had been right, the tracks alone were at least two stories tall. She couldn't begin to imagine how STEED had managed to build this thing. As she got closer, she spotted a small ladder hanging alongside the tracks. Glancing upwards, she could see it rose up to a small platform embedded into the side of Duskwalker's main fuselage. Pinkie grinned when she spotted an access panel, a telltale sign of the presence of an airlock.

"Welp," she said to herself, moments later when she stepped into a gloomy corridor. "At least the power's on. Sorta."

The airlock hissed shut behind her as she took in her surroundings. Emergency power, clearly, judging by the darkness and pulsating red beacons at regular intervals down the corridor. The spinning lights cast an eerie, crimson hue that washed over the industrious corridor. Dark metal walls and flooring that still had a little too much shine to them, a very clear indicator as to exactly how new the laboratory was. Extruding pipes, wires and vents cast erratic shadows in the dancing light, as if phantoms in the walls were struggling to free themselves. And despite the sub polar temperatures outside, it was stuffy and warm inside. Then Pinkie realised how heavy she felt. At least, compared to outside. Experimenting, she jumped up and down on the spot.

"Huh, artificial gravity," she noted. "They didn't mention that in the specifications."

Pinkie checked her wrist-mounted computer. First and foremost, she wanted to confirm the air quality. She'd had ten days of travel to study the Duskwalker's schematics that STEED had provided, and she knew that even in emergency power mode, the oxygenators and the carbon dioxide scrubbers should still be running. The tiny screen built into her suit would be able to give her a yes or no about whether or not it was safe to remove her helmet. Air pressure was fine, oxygen levels stable, carbon dioxide levels were about normal. But for airborne contaminants, the screen was showing an error message. She frowned.

"'Three to base, I'm on board Duskwalker now, I think something's going loopy loo with my suit. Can you see this?" Pinkie said, holding her wrist up level with her helmet camera.

After the irksome pause, Twilight replied. "Yeah we can, 'Three, we're not sure what to make of it either. For now, just proceed onwards and keep your helmet on. It could just be a faulty sensor, but we'd rather play it safe."

"Copy that."

With nothing else for it, she reached up to her helmet to flick on the inbuilt torch, and proceeded down the dark corridor. Owing to the incomprehensible size of the crawler when viewed from outside, and despite all the time she'd had to study the layout of the inside, Pinkie struggled to navigate the labyrinthine sprawl of passages. There was little to differentiate one hallway from another. Dozens of windowless doors led into unseen sections, each one labelled with an identifying code that Pinkie had more or less managed to memorise. Research laboratories, storage rooms, crew quarters, access hatches to engine rooms below. Poking her head into any that she passed, Pinkie only found glimpses of life in the vicinity. Unmade beds in the quarters, still-lit bunsen burners in the labs, half empty boxes of food on the shelves in the storage rooms. 

"Hello!" she called out from time to time. "Is anycreature there? Can anycreature hear me?"

Only one sound seemed to join the unsettling echoes of her hoofsteps on the cold metal floor: a consistent muffled hum that permeated from the level below. The noise became louder whenever she opened a doorway that would lead to a ladder down to maintenance areas. At least some of the engines were still working. After about fifteen minutes of searching, fruitless in the attempt to find any of the Duskwalker's crew, Pinkie decided to check the lower levels.

Her hooves crashed on the grated floor as she dropped onto the raised platform. Spread out before her was a towering expanse of gleaming pipes, colossal turbines, and a network of catwalks that crisscrossed through the heart of the mechanical leviathan. It was too quiet. In an engine room of this size, she'd have expected to be overwhelmed by the deafening thunder of machinery. Instead, only a high pitched whine. This had to be the backup turbines, giving it their all to keep the basic systems going. The main engines loomed below her like titanic monoliths, with colossal pistons sat woefully stationary.

Though her search was for survivors, Pinkie figured she could take the opportunity to have a closer examination of the engine setup. She'd formulated a theory on the journey here, but she needed to confirm it. Now as as good a time as any. One of the backup generators was sat resting against a bulkhead about fifty feet in front of her. As she walked over to it, she noticed the air above it rippling and distorting in the torchlight. She found out why when she got closer. The heat it was producing was incredible. Her suit even sent a warning chime to her earpiece, such was the increase in temperature. Air circulation was a critical system that the backup generators could power, but air conditioning wasn't.

"That's why it's so warm," Pinkie gasped to herself. "These generators are cooking themselves alive just to keep the lights on."

Her worst fears were realised when she reached the diagnostic screen mounted next to the generator. Each module of the Duskwalker had four backup generators, spaced evenly throughout the engine rooms. As she could see on the screen, all twelve generators were flat out, burning themselves up to keep the crawler a habitable environment. They were all constantly at maximum output. Pinkie had hoped that she'd be able to use them to jumpstart the main engines, but they wouldn't be able to produce enough power. Not without cutting off the life support. If there was another way to get the crawler moving again, she'd need time to brainstorm it.

Her ears flicked. "Huh. Hello? Is there anycreature down here?"

She turned around, casting the beam of her flashlight across the catwalks. There'd been a noise, she could have sworn it. Like hoofsteps. Her heartrate accelerated as a distinct pinching sensation spread across her knees. Even over the heavy thrum of the backup generator, a disconcerting stillness settled over the cavernous space. Like a mechanical behemoth pausing to bear witness to whatever lay ahead.

There was a jolt of pale blue as the torchlight flashed around the room. Pinkie turned back to it. There, stood right at the ladder that Pinkie had just descended, stood a pony. A stallion, as far as she could tell. Her eyes picked out the silvery grey mane, the blue coat, and the distinct cutie mark of a toolbox. A name formed in her mind, one she'd obtained from the crew manifest.

"Well hi there!" Pinkie called out, forcing a cheery air to her voice but unable to suppress a quiver. "You must be Steel Wrench, assistant engineer, right? Well, you can call me Three, I'm here with Equestrial Rescue and we're here to help you guys get moving again. It's super great to meet you!"

Steel Wrench didn't reply. He stood there, staring at Pinkie. 

"Uhhhh... you doing okay, buddy?"

His eyes, vacant and hollow, bore into her with cold indifference. His head sat at a slight tilt as he seemed to be considering her presence. A sliver of drool hung from a gawping mouth that drew rattling breaths. Then he stepped forward. His movements were clumsy, uncoordinated, as if he was a giant marionette being pulled along by unseen strings. A gasping moan escaped his mouth as he moved quicker and quicker, fixated on the newcomer.

"Nope, heck to this!" Pinkie yelped, turning tail to run away.

With an other-worldly, guttural howl that echoed through the chamber and sent shivers down Pinkie's spine, Steel Wrench broke into a sprint. The crazed stallion charged in pursuit, his hooves crashing heavily down on the meshed steel floor. Answering cries seemed to call out in reply from somewhere else in the darkness, as if being summoned from the depths of Tartaurus. Pinkie dared a glance back as she ran. With his teeth bared like some wild animal, and foam pouring from the corners of his lips, there was absolutely no sign of the calm, collected and fiercely intelligent mechanic that Pinkie had read up on.

"'Three to base, 'Three to base," she screamed into her headset. "What the heck is this guys problem?!"

For the next eight seconds, Pinkie fought back the urge to shriek every obscenity flowing through her head. She focused on winding her way through the sprawl of raised catwalks, desperate to put as much distance as possible between herself and Steel Wrench. Despite the initial clumsiness of his movements, the stallion was fast. Very fast. 

"We don't know, 'Three, we don't know! Just get out of there!" Twilight finally replied, an answer that was frustratingly unhelpful.

Sharp corners and precipitous ledges occupied Pinkie's entire mindset. She didn't know what would happen if Steel Wrench caught her, but it couldn't be good. She had to win this battle of agility. The metallic whine of the engine room had transformed into a terrifying opera of adrenaline and frenzy, and she couldn't let herself stumble. More howls emanated through the room, but not just from behind Pinkie: they seemed to be reverberating all around her. The backup generators, the crazed stallion, her heart pounding in her ears. The noises all combined in a nightmarish symphony that urged Pinkie onwards.

But then there he was. Another stallion, emerging from the darkness right in the torchlight right front of her. From the purple coat alone, Pinkie's head produced his name: Star Searcher, captain of the expedition. A brilliant pony, one of the most famed astronauts in Equestrian history. Here he stood, silhouetted in the erratic dancing of Pinkie's flashlight, his body lopsided and convulsing. As Pinkie skidded to a halt, she heard his frenzied gibbers and screeches. His wild eyes settled upon her.

"Oh, crab-apples," Pinkie moaned.

She was cornered. Steel Wrench was only seconds behind her, and Star Searcher had begun to stumble forward to lock her in with a pincer movement. Desperately she looked around, her eyes scanning for something, anything that could get her out of this. The section of catwalk she was on sat was resting against the hull. In the centre of the room, another catwalk dead-ended at a ladder that rose up into an access hatch. No way to get across, there was at least fifty feet of open space between the two platforms. Except, her torchlight flicked across the hulking shadows of the Duskwalker's engines, hiding in the dark.

There wasn't enough time for Pinkie to consider any other options.

With a scream, she leapt over the railing of the catwalk. Her hooves slammed painfully down on the uneven top of the gigantic engines, as behind her, the two mindless stallions careened headfirst into one another. She skidded on the slick, angled top of what she guessed was the manifold, teetering over the dark abyss below. Her heart skipped a beat as she scrambled her hooves to regain balance. Desperately Pinkie pulled herself steady, and lunged forward into the darkness a second time. Her leap of faith paid off, as she found herself prepared for the uneven shape of the next engine block. The platform and the ladder was now just one more jump away.

As Pinkie made her final vault through the void, ending up clung to the side of the catwalk handrails, she heard frustrated grunts from behind her. Loud clanging hoofsteps pierced the air. Steel Wrench and Star Searcher had recovered from the tumble, regained their footing, and were making their way around to intercept her. Pinkie hauled herself over the railing, landing right at the base of the ladder. Gasping for breath, and with a bead of sweat trickling down her muzzle, she grabbed at the rungs with trembling hooves. Frenzied hoofsteps on metal grating drew nearer and nearer as she climbed.

She reached the hatch at the top, and pulled at the locking wheel with all her might. Her blood turned icy cold. It wouldn't budge. Desperation clawed at Pinkie's chest as she screamed, pounding on the hatch with every ounce of strength she could muster. Her relentless pursuers were bearing down on her, barely even a breath away now, their incoherent howls ripping through the surrounding air. Then the hoofsteps stopped. Pinkie looked down. The two stallions stood side by side only ten feet away, their breaths ragged and gargling as foam gushed from their mouths. They were looking up at her. Their eyes were rabid and vacant as before, but something about their expressions had taken on a monstrous glee. Satisfaction, almost. As they had cornered their prey, savouring the last moments before victory.

Pinkie was frozen with terror. She'd fought fires atop skyscrapers. Dove headfirst into a typhoon. Helped bring down a Timberwolf the size of a battleship before it could reach Manehatten. But something about this was worse. These two stallions, mindless and beyond reason, looked like all they wanted to do was tear Pinkie to shreds. And she wasn't sure if she could fight them off. She winced as Star Searcher took a slow, juddering step forward.

Then with a sudden creak, there was light. Gasping as she looked up, she saw the hatch sitting open as a beam of torchlight ripped down through the darkness.

"Aye, dios mio!" shouted a voice from above. "Los caballos estúpida!"

Pinkie yelped as a clawed hand reached down through the hatch, and yanked her upwards. Whoever it was had tremendous strength, as they didn't seem to struggle at all with lifting Pinkie's entire weight up through the hatch. Then she was thrown across the corridor, rolling painfully and landing in a heap against the opposite wall. As what little remaining breath she had was knocked from her lungs, she squinted over at her unexpected saviour as they slammed the hatch closed again.

It was one of the griffons. Her back half, where most griffons were part-lion, was yellow, spotted and ended with long, striped tail. Her bird half was varying shades of dark grey, her beak was stocky and crooked, and she had a line of feathers rolling in a long mohawk that extended from the top of her head to the middle of her back. Around her neck was a white bandana, and a pair of old-fashioned aviator goggles. She was a rare subspecies of griffon, part ocelot and part falcon. Once again, having studied the crew manifest, Pinkie was able to pull a name from the depths of her memory.

"F... F... First Officer... Kamryn?"

The griffon turned. "Sí, caballo. Now come on, we've gotta move. Comprende?"

"Yep, yes ma'am..." Pinkie moaned back. "I comprendo a-okay, just... just gimme a sec."

"No time, ese. Get up," Kamryn insisted, pulling Pinkie to her hooves.

"Wh... what's the heck is going on here?" Pinkie wheezed, her lungs struggling to catch up as she followed Kamryn down the corridor.

"What's happening, caballo, is you rang the dinner bell. Now we gotta get to safety."

As Pinkie was struggling to walk, Kamryn turned back around and threw one of Pinkie's hooves over her shoulders. Then she led Pinkie off at a brisk pace, ditching her own torch in favour of the one on Pinkie's helmet. Though the dark sprawl of hallways was still a bewildering mess to Pinkie's eyes, Kamryn walked hastily but with confidence. Then far ahead of them was something different. A large airlock, with glass windows set into the centre. Pinkie could just about make out further corridors beyond, leading into a large open space. It took her hazy mind a moment to register that this must be the airlock between the Duskwalker's modules. As huge as the lab was, Pinkie had barely even seen one third of it.

"Andele!" Kamryn shouted suddenly, as she glanced backwards. "Más rápido!"

The stumbling pair sped up as Pinkie cast her own look behind them. Another pony, a mare with a pale green coat, had just emerged from a side corridor. Though initially unaware of the presence of Pinkie and Kamryn, the mare's eyes had been drawn their way by the shouting griffon. Pinkie watched for a third time as realisation made way onto an irrational face. Hungry eyes sighted prey. Stumbling hoofsteps grew into a predatory sprint. And once again, Pinkie was a target in the crosshairs.

"Get ready, toro!" yelled Kamryn "We got company!"

They had barely made it halfway to the airlock. In the doorway ahead, illuminated by the occasional flash of red from the beacons, Pinkie saw the hulking mass of a minotaur lean out. He looked from them, to the pony giving chase to them. Realisation dawned on his face as he took up position at the airlock controls. Behind them, the same heavy, rattling breaths sounded from the crazed mare as she bore down on them. As Pinkie and Kamryn inched closer and closer to the airlock, the mare closed the gap by entire meters. Approaching hoofsteps echoed. Kamryn's beak clacked. Pinkie dug deep and drew on her last reserves of strength.

With one final heave, Pinkie and Kamryn hurled themselves through the airlock, apparently at the exact moment as the minotaur closed it. The opposing doors raced at each other as the pony and griffon launched through the air. The doors slammed shut with inches to spare, and the mare in pursuit collided facefirst into the glass cutout. It didn't seem to hurt her. If anything it steeled her resolve. She pounded at the window, gnashing her teeth and foaming wildly. The minotaur could only look on at her with a sombre expression.

"I'm so sorry, Melody," he whispered, his eyes turning glassy.

"Ah don't get your pantalones in a twist, Granite," Kamryn berated as she sat up to her haunches. "We got another mouth to feed here, somehow. No idea where she came from."

As if noticing Pinkie for the first time, Granite's eyes widened. On closer inspection Pinkie noticed he was rather slim by minotaur standards, and a silver grey streak ran through his hair that he wore in quite a dignified manner. "B-bloody hell, that uniform," he gasped. "You... you're with Equestrial Rescue..."

Pinkie rose to unsteady hooves, her breaths coming in shaking heaves. "Y-y-yeah... here to help..."

"Help?!" Kamryn screeched, although it might have been a laugh, Pinkie wasn't sure. "For a rescue agency, the only thing you've done so far is be rescued. Oh, and muy bien on stopping me from getting more food so I could save your trasero. Dios mio..."

With a huff and with a ruffle of her feathers, Kamryn stomped off down the corridor towards the other airlock.

"Sorry mate," Granite said, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's been in a right state ever since all the ponies went crazy."

"Since... since what now?" Pinkie asked, cocking her head. "Please tell me you know what's going on here..."

"Well let's just say it's a good thing you've got that helmet on. Our best guess, we think there's some kind of pathogen going through the air. And it's turned all the ponies into savage, mindless monsters."

"Just the ponies?"

"Just the ponies. We managed to confine them all to the first module, but that means we can't get in there to restart the engines. So... yeah, let's just say tensions are a smidge off the charts right now. Come on, let's find you somewhere to sit down for a bit."

As Pinkie stumbled along next to Granite, a minotaur she recognised as being the head engineer on-board, her mind raced. Airborne pathogens? Crazed ponies? She'd flown here for a straightforward, two-option scenario: fix the crawler, or bring everycreature home. This was way, way worse than she'd prepared for.

"Base from 'Three," she called into her microphone. "We have a pretty bad situation up here."
> III: These Mortal Coils
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Smacking her lips, Pinkie Pie sat observing. Around her in the dim light of electric lanterns, the sounds of frenzied eating echoed through the cavernous room. It had been a blessing that she'd had the idea to delay the launching of Wonderbird Three for a couple of days. It had given her and Twilight the time to consider the possibility of food rations. If she'd been forced to bring all twenty seven creatures back to Equis from Marecury, Pinkie would have needed to provide them with sustenance while on board Wonderbird Three. Two weeks worth at minimum, plus an extra weeks worth for redundancy, for twenty seven creatures. Much of the day before launch, she'd spent transporting ration packs from Harmony Island's underground warehouses into Wonderbird Three's cargo hold.

The central module of Duskwalker was known as the escape module. It housed the large rocket-propelled pods that were designed to reach the command ship orbiting the planet. While smaller escape pods could be found in both of the other two modules, these weren't quite as capable as the primary launch system. And with the pods and necessary launch mechanisms taking up the entirety of the central module, there wasn't room for anything else, such as food storage. The same went for the rearmost module, housing fuels, coolant, water, and all the other necessary fluids for the Duskwalker to operate. Only the front module was habitable for any extended duration of time. The creatures before Pinkie had managed to siphon drinking water from the bathroom taps, but they hadn't eaten since the crawler broke down. Which was ten days ago.

Another stroke of luck was that Twilight Sparkle had planned for every eventuality. The warehouse back on the island had contained food supplements that met the dietary requirements of every sentient race on Equis. Granite, as well as his fellow minotaurs Minerva and Steelhoof, crammed down packets of grass salsa. Morpha, the chief medical officer and only changeling on board, had a similar diet to the griffons. She joined Kamryn, Robyn, Swiftwing, Orion, Gildcrest and Skyfeather in gorging themselves on pulled pork gnocchi. Pinkie was glad she couldn't smell the meat one through her helmet.

She also got the distinct impression that the First Officer wasn't keen for her to be there. Kamryn, almost identical to her sister Robyn and only differentiated by the mint green eyes to Robyn's pale pink, had been reluctant to accept the food. Several times over the last week, the remaining crew had attempted to venture into the first module to scavenge for something to eat. Every single time, the crazed ponies had found them and they'd been forced to retreat to safety. With the Captain very much an invalid, Kamryn was in charge. She had luckily been scavenging nearby when she'd heard screams coming from an access hatch. And her quest to find some food to feed her starving crew had been interrupted, to save Pinkie. Fair enough, her annoyance was justified there.

But when Pinkie had announced that she had food rations on board Wonderbird Three, all ten faces had lit up in disbelief. Like all their Hearths Warmings (or whichever cultural Winter holidays each of them observed) had come at once. Only Kamryn's expression had then fallen into one of resignation. Pinkie had taken care to follow decontamination protocols back on her ship. She'd waited in the airlock as anti-bacterial agents pulsed through the air, and gentle ultraviolet radiation washed over her. When she was clean, she'd made her way to the cargo hold and loaded two crates of food onto an all-terrain dolly. Nine creatures gave Pinkie a heroes welcome when she returned, and Kamryn had rolled her eyes. Hey, Pinkie had worked retail before. She knew she couldn't please everycreature.

"So tell us, Tres," Kamryn said, strands of pork hanging from her beak as she prodded at her food packet with a spork. "You got a plan for us to get this this hunk'a junk going again, no doubt. You gonna share with the class?"

"Oh, umm..." Pinkie felt the various eyes in the room turning to her, expecting an answer. "Well... I had time to try and figure it out on the trip here. I wanted to try overclocking the backup generators to jump start the primary motors. But when I was down there earlier, I saw that they're all already going flat out just to maintain the core systems, and putting out a lot of heat to do that. So, I don't think we can risk it. We'd either have to shut off life support to try, or try anyway and risk blowing those generators too. And we'd lose life support systems either way."

"Mmmhmm. If you're done stating the obvious, caballo," Kamryn drawled. "What's your Plan B?"

"Evacuate. Get you all onboard Wonderbird Three."

"No evacuation, Tres. I mean a Plan B that involves getting Duskwalker moving again."

"I'm... err... still working on that one... wait, what do you mean 'no evacuation'?"

Kamryn froze, fixing Pinkie with a dangerous stare. "What do I mean?" she asked, putting her food packet to one side. "I mean me and my team, we sunk ten years into preparing for this mission. And we sure as heck aren't going to abandon it after a few months over some low batteries!"

"Oh-kay!" With a flash of lime green, Morpha had thrown herself into the fray. "Timeout, I think! She's here to help us, boss, we don't need to be getting feisty with her now, do we? Keep your blood pressure down, doctor's orders. Trust me, your future self will thank you."

With a grumble, Kamryn picked up her food packet and resumed eating.

"It's fine, I get it," Pinkie replied. "You guys have spent so long and put in so much effort just to be here. Of course you don't want to bail out. But if you can't get this lab rolling again, in four days you're all gonna be baked like cupcakes."

"Well," Morpha said, turning to face Pinkie. "The way I see it, whatever we do, the first order of business is making sure we can get safely back into the lead module, right?"

"Main engine interfaces are down there," Granite confirmed. "If we're gonna restart this puppy, that'd be the first port of call. In theory, we could mirror the controls to any interface on the crawler, for the sake of convenience. But you'd need to set that up on the terminal next to the primary backup generator first."

Pinkie thought for a moment. "Well, you guys have had a chance to watch those ponies closely, see how they behave. Anything we can use to lure them out?"

One of the minotaurs, Minerva, spoke up. "If it walks and breathes, they'll hone in on it."

"And if they catch you?"

"None of us have been slow enough to find out so far," Kamryn deadpanned.

"Well, here's hoping it doesn't spread to other creatures through bites," Pinkie mused. "Hey Morpha, how well supplied is the medical bay? You think you could whip up something that could knock them out?"

All heads turned to the changeling. "Ummm... maybe? I have enough sedatives, for sure. But you'd have a heck of a time trying to get close enough to any of them to inject them."

Pinkie remembered something she'd thought about when she was examining the backup generators. Air conditioning wasn't functioning, but air circulation was. "What about an aerosol? You should have a dispersal unit on board."

Silence fell on the group as the suggestion processed in each of their heads. "Would we be safe in here?" asked the other of the twin griffons, Robyn.

"Isolate the air supply to the primary module," replied Kamryn, her beak full of pork, cheese and pasta. "Each one has its own scrubbers and oxygenators, they can all act independently of each other. It's just simpler having one big supply. But you can cut one off from the others at any of the link terminals, it just needs confirmation from the on-duty commanding officer. It could work, Tres."

"It could," Pinkie nodded. "We'd have to sneak through the front module to the medbay. Then load up the dispersal unit with enough sedative, and take the whole thing up to the ventilation relays. That would spread it through the entire module. Should only take a few hours to fully dissipate afterwards, by which time we should be able to find all the ponies and get them restrained. What do you guys think?"

"Well, it beats kicking my hooves up and waiting to die," admitted Granite. "So, who's going?"

"I will," both Pinkie and Morpha said in unison.

Turning to the changeling to protest, Pinkie was met with a raised hoof. "Don't waste time arguing with me, Three. I'm a medic, they're my patients. I know the way to my medical bay, and I'll bet you any money that your vision in the dark is nowhere near as good as mine. You need me for this."

"But..."

"And I'll bet that while you've got some medical experience, you might struggle to work out the dosage rate for seventeen ponies. All of whom differ in size and stature, and none of them are entirely cognizant right now. Overdo it and they could suffer permanent brain damage, or even worse."

"Ughh... fine." Pinkie hated to admit it, but Morpha was right. She was the medic, and she had every right to insist she come along. "But nocreature else, I don't want any unnecessary risks."

Looking over to Kamryn, Pinkie waited for a go-ahead. Respecting the chain of command struck her as a good first step to building bridges. She knew that her face was obscured by the polarised glass visor of her helmet, but Kamryn still looked her up and down all the same. Like she was trying to get a read on Pinkie.

"Okay then, Tres," she said finally. "Look after my colleague, sí? Take a minute if you need, then get going." Kamryn turned to Morpha. "And you, ese, wear your EVA suit. Don't want you going loco on us when you release that stuff, eh?"

Nodding, and scurrying away to suit up, Morpha's jump to action appeared to signify to the rest of the group that it was time to disperse. Pinkie looked around, impressed. They hadn't wasted their ten days of isolation. Each of them had their own task. Makeshift beds had been set up out of tarpaulin along one wall, with access to a barrel of water nearby. Several tables had been pulled close, a scattering of laptop computers sat on top. Most of them were shut, but a few were running and displaying complex lines of code on their screens. Several of the griffons had pulled the food crates aside and started sorting through them, rationing them. Unnecessary, Pinkie hoped, but for now it would help to have something to occupy their minds with.

As Kamryn grabbed a lantern and set off with Robyn in the direction of the airlock that led to the primary module, Granite walked up to Pinkie.

"You got a sec?" he asked.

"Apparently I do," Pinkie replied, watching as Minerva struggled to help Morpha climb into her bulky EVA suit. It wasn't helping her that she was trying to assist whilst juggling to keep hold of another lantern. "What's on your noodle?"

"I just wanted to say thank you, really. On behalf of Kamryn, because I know she's too proud to admit it. But things here were getting pretty desperate. You turning up out of the black... well, it's given us some fresh hope, y'know?

"Awwr, it's no biggie, really," Pinkie gushed with a wave of her hoof.

"It's a big biggie though, Like, a really big biggie. You think I don't know where we are? How risky it was for you to get here? I don't even know how you got here so bloody fast, but I'm glad you did. Kamryn's a grumpy bean, but that's only because she cares about the team she's got here. Apologies in advance for any more of her grumblings, but... yeah. Well, I've got your back with whatever you need, okay?"

She nodded in appreciation as Granite left her to her thoughts. With a few more minutes to pass before Morpha would be fully suited up, Pinkie took the chance to radio in to Twilight to explain the plan. For a few moments, Pinkie suspected Twilight was fending off a coronary. It had been bad enough when she'd first heard Pinkie's report about the pursuit she'd escaped from in the lead module. To hear that she was going back appeared to cause her anguish to double down. Twilight worried too much, justified or not. Even if, in this instance, it was justified. But Pinkie talked her through her rationalisation. That she couldn't just abandon those seventeen ponies to their fates, nor could she let them loose through the crawler. There weren't any good options, but this one posed the least risk.

By the time she'd finally ended the transmission, Morpha was geared up and standing to attention at the airlock door, talking to Kamryn. Pinkie took a steady breath, nodded in assurance to herself, and strolled over.

"Okay Tres," Kamryn said. "As soon as you two are gone, we'll isolate the air supply and start suiting up ourselves. Morpha's all good, you ready?"

"Just one thing, actually," Pinkie replied, eyeing up the control panel next to the airlock. "Would you mind just... opening and closing that door for me, pretty please?"

Kamryn cocked an eyebrow, but nodded to her sister all the same. As requested, Robyn stepped up to the control panel. She pressed one button, causing the door to whoosh open, and then another to make it hiss shut. Pinkie lifted her hoof to examine her wrist-mounted computer. She navigated through the menus, muttering to herself as she went. She gave a quiet 'ah-hah', then asked Robyn to do the same thing again. A scowl spread across Kamryn's face as her feathers began to ruffle. Robyn, meanwhile, obediently opened and closed the door again, making no effort to hide a smirk.

"You gonna play with doors all day, Tres, or you gonna get on with this plan of yours?"

"Hang on," Pinkie declared. She gestured at the door with her hoof, and it immediately shot open, causing Kamryn, Robyn and Morpha to all leap away from it in surprise. "Okey dokey lokey, all ready to go!"

"Whu... what just happened?" Morpha asked.

"I managed to clone the input signals from the control panel to the receiver circuits in the door matrix," Pinkie explained. "Then tied the cloned signals into the gesture controls in my suit, so I can wave a hoof and open any of the airlock doors on this lab. Pretty neat, huh?"

Ignoring the the looks of disbelief on the two griffons, Pinkie made a big show of exaggerating her nonchalance as she strolled through the doorway. She switched on her helmet-mounted flashlight, and Morpha took a few moments to process what she'd seen, then scrambled to catch up.

"You got some pretty sweet gear," she gushed as she kept pace with Pinkie down the dim corridor. Her short legs scuttled twice as fast as Pinkie's, making haste to keep up.

Pinkie giggled in appreciation. "I know a pretty smart cookie with a flair for the dramatic. But we can talk toys later. You said you can see in the dark really good, yeah?"

"Uh-huh, all changelings can. Back in the hive days, we didn't ever get natural light in the deepest catacombs, so we kinda had to see well or we'd all just get lost all the time."

"Well... looks like I'd better lose the nightlight if we don't want to wake some snoozyheads..."

Morpha looked up as Pinkie drew to a halt. They'd reached the airlock separating them from the module infested with rabid ponies. The beam from Pinkie's flashlight flicked across the dark pane of glass set into the middle of the door, and flashes of red light danced from beyond. Morpha gave a sharp, juddering intake of breath.

"We got this, okay?" Pinkie said in the most gentle tone of reassurance she could muster. For good measure, she even reached a hoof around Morpha's shoulders. She pulled her in for a semi-hug that appeared to help steady the trembling changeling. "Talk me through this."

"So, basically," Morpha squeaked back. "It isn't that far. We go in. Keep low, slow and quiet. Stay right on my tail, and we should go unnoticed. Once we're at the medbay it'll be pretty straightforward, there's an access hatch in the ceiling opposite that can take us up to the ventilation regulators. Ten minutes tops, from this door opening to sedative dispersal."

Pinkie nodded. She gestured to the airlock door with her hoof, causing it to slide open, and then inclined her head in a gentle bow. "Suits me just fine and dandy. After you then, m'lady." 

With her hooves still trembling, Morpha shuffled delicately into the flashing abyss, Pinkie only a few feet behind. They both paused as the door hissed shut again. Waiting to see if anypony came running, drawn by the sound. There was currently nopony in sight, which suited them both fine. After an agonising few moments, Morpha seemed to find her nerve, and started taking tender steps forward. In the foreboding embrace of the dark maze, Pinkie and Morpha ventured onwards. Their every move was concealed, they hoped, hidden beneath the shroud of murky twilight as they proceeded. Overhead, the menacing red beacons cast eerie, blood-red illumination that pulsed and writhed across the walls like the heartbeat of a sinister beast.

They progressed steadily, with Pinkie putting her full faith in the small changeling to guide her. And to her credit, Morpha was ever the vigilant sentry that Pinkie needed at that moment. Morpha's outline could just about be seen looking both forward and backward, on high alert for any signs of life. Her movements were deliberate. Calculated. A careful deduction of the shortest distance to their destination, taken at a snails pace that seemed as quick as she dared to proceed. Even the slightest increase to the weight of each hoofstep risked being enough to draw attention to them. It was a risk neither of them dared take.

Further and further they went through their labyrinthine nightmare. The menacing crimson beacons, their eerie light dissecting the darkness, created an otherworldly atmosphere. They sent surreal, ever-changing patterns across vents and pipes that seemed to taunt Pinkie and Morpha at every turn. The air itself felt charged with electric tension, and they remained acutely aware of the crazed ponies hiding somewhere in the shadows. It was enough to keep both of their heartrates at an uncomfortable high.

Several passages converged into a crossroads, a junction at the heart of the sinister web of corridors. Pinkie, keeping her head low, followed as Morpha led her around to the left. Then, just about suppressing a gasp of surprise, Pinkie found herself being pushed backwards. Slowly, but with a deliberate forcefulness. As Morpha wordlessly ushered her back around the corner of the intersection, Pinkie saw it in the distance ahead of them. A stream of red light from the beacon had washed over the listless, empty expression of the green mare who had almost accosted her and Kamryn earlier. Granite had called her Melody. So, that had to be Melody Sprig, a botanist and assistant medic. And she was shuffling their way.

They crouched behind a ventilation duct, their backs pressed against the cold, unforgiving wall. In the distance, Melody Sprig's stumbling hoofsteps echoed through the corridor, a dissonant melody of madness. She drew nearer and nearer, shadows from the beacon lights casting a grotesque silhouette against the opposite wall. Heartbeats hammered in Pinkie and Morpha's chests like desperate war drums, the sound reverberating in their ears as neither dared to even breathe. The darkness had to keep them hidden, it just had to.

Melody Sprig trudged past, mere inches from their concealed sanctuary. The red beacon light danced on her emotionless face, grotesque and twisted by her slack jaw and foamy, rattling breaths. She continued on her mad, aimless path, oblivious to the invisible figures crouched mere feet away. Only when the echoing hoofsteps faded into the distance, lost to the sprawl of passages, did Pinkie or Morpha dare to exhale.

Despite the silence, Morpha remained still. Concerned, Pinkie rested a hoof on her shoulder, where the frantic rising and falling of her chest became apparent. She held her hoof there for a long pause, giving Morpha a chance to regain her nerve. It was only as Pinkie's mind began to consider whether or not she might have to leave her behind, that she finally appeared to calm down. In the flickering red light, she saw Morpha's outline steady herself, give a small nod, and then rise from her squatting position. She led Pinkie around the corner once more, and proceeded down the corridor.

The close call with Melody Sprig had shaken them both up. While Morpha inched forward with a touch more haste and a stronger quiver in her step, Pinkie found herself wishing the adrenaline in her chest would abate. It was incessant. Her limbs felt light and numb, her heartrate would not slow down, and it took every modicum of her focus to keep herself creeping forward in silence. So it was a great relief to both of them when Morpha stopped in front of a doorway a few minutes later. She pushed it open, waved Pinkie inside, and eased it shut again. With a flick of her hoof, Morpha switched on the headlight attached to her EVA suit, prompting Pinkie to do the same.

It was a small room for a medical bay. A large examination table dominated much of one side of it, with several bookcases, rows of shelves and a computer desk on the other side. The back wall was decorated with several photographs and pieces of artwork, including a neat, hoof-drawn sketch of one of Duskwalker's modules. But it was what was sat flush with the back wall that drew Pinkie's attention. Two doorways, marked with codes that indicated storage rooms, one of which also had a snowflake symbol that identified it as refrigerated storage.

Pinkie went to take a step forward, but paused. Morpha had stopped to lean against the examination table, her limbs still quivering. Making her way to her side, Pinkie turned Morpha around so they were stood face to face, getting no resistance in return. Her EVA suit helmet filtered out the sharpness and intensity of Pinkie's flashlight, but still maintained transparency. Inside her helmet, Morpha's face wore an expression of pain, shock, and utter disbelief. Her eyes, brilliant red geodesic domes, were awash with tears.

"Hey," Pinkie whispered, swallowing her own anxiety. "You did it. Got us here in one piece. You did amazing, okay? We're nearly done here."

Morpha sniffed. "I know," she moaned. "It's not that. It's... it's Melody. Did you see her? Ten years we've been friends, colleagues, and we've been though so much together. Seeing her just now... she's a hollow shell of herself. A ghost. Just... a remnant. I don't know who that was, but that wasn't my Melody..."

There was only one thing Pinkie could do. She wrapped her hooves around Morpha's midriff, and pulled her in tight for a hug. Morpha didn't struggle. She only seemed to hesitate for a moment, unresponsive, unsure how to react. Then she grabbed Pinkie and held her as she let her tears flow. Pinkie almost lost her footing as Morpha leaned into her, and for a few moments the two held their embrace. Ten days of hunger, isolation, darkness and uncertainty had done their damage on the petrified changeling.

Then as Pinkie adjusted her stance, her torchlight fell on the sketch of Duskwalker again. This time, she noticed the long, thick arms drawn protruding from the upper parts of the triangular shape. She narrowed her eyes and bit her lip, thinking. A lightbulb moment. It all flooded into her brain: a fully-formed plan, and it would work. She knew it would. All it took was one realisation, set off by a simple sketch, and Pinkie understood exactly how she could get the crawler moving again. But one thing at a time. For now, she had to focus on her immediate problems.

"Okay, Morpha," she cooed. "We have a job to do, let's get on with it, yeah? Sooner we do that, sooner we can start helping Melody, and everypony else."

Morpha pulled back, forcing a smile to crease her tear-stained cheeks. She nodded her head towards the storage cupboards. "Okay. I'll get the sedatives, you get the dispersal unit. It should be somewhere near the back, middle or top shelf."

It didn't take long for Pinkie to find the correct box. By the time she emerged back into the medbay, with the box balanced on her shoulders, Morpha was already measuring doses of a crystal blue liquid into a thick vial. She worked in silence, taking the box from Pinkie and pulling out a long, cylindrical device. Popping a small hatch open on one end, she slid the vial inside and clicked it shut. The dispersal unit gave a short, whistling alert, and an LED panel lit up green.

"Is... is it ready?" Pinkie asked.

Morpha nodded, gesturing to a switch on the side. It had a cover on it to prevent an accidental activation, much like many of the switches Pinkie had in Wonderbird Three. "Flick this, wait ten seconds, and you'll have one heck of a fog bursting out," Morpha explained. "The access to the ventilation relays is directly opposite here. Come on."

Switching off her light and following Morpha through the medbay door, Pinkie found herself back in the corridor. She looked up, seeing the outline of a hatch built into the ceiling. After a quick look around to check the coast was clear, Morpha's wings came to life in a gentle buzz. Hovering near the hatch, she pulled at the locking wheel with a light touch. It creaked open with a jolt, causing both Pinkie and Morpha to flinch. All Pinkie could do was gesture for Morpha to hurry up, and the changeling obediently zipped into the dark hole.

With her heart plunging into her stomach, Pinkie realised she could hear the distant thuds of approaching hoofsteps. Darting her head back and forth, she saw it after a few terrifying moments. From the direction they'd come from, Melody shuffled around a corner with haste in her step. She appeared to notice Pinkie at the exact moment a thin mist began to gush out of all the ventilation grates along the corridor. Pinkie braced herself to run as Melody seemed to notice her, but the pursuit never came. Melody's movements became more and more sluggish, her expression somehow even more slack and vacant. Her forward charge lost all momentum, until, right underneath a flashing red beacon, she slumped forward and collapsed on the floor.

"Morpha!" Pinkie called out. "You did it!"

A helmeted head emerged from the hatch. "It's working?"

Pinkie gestured down the corridor, where the prone outline of Melody sprawled out underneath the spinning lights. Morpha made a noise somewhere between a whimper and a gasp, but turned back to Pinkie. "Let's get back to the secondary module. We'll need the whole cavalry to find all these ponies and round them up before they come to."

Without a word, the pair of them ran back through the winding corridors back to regroup with the other creatures. No longer concerned about noise or light, they switched their flashlights on. It made the return journey a lot less harrowing, even with the veil of fog gushing from all the vents. Compared to the eternity it had seemed to take previously, they found themselves back at the airlock only a few minutes later. Pinkie opened it with a wave of her hoof, and they made their way back down the access corridor. When they opened the second airlock, three minotaurs and six griffons greeted them. All of them were wearing their EVA suits, ready for action.

"Okay, the sedative is working through the ventilation system," Pinkie announced. "Keep your helmets on until all seventeen ponies are accounted for." She turned to Morpha. "You need a breather, or you good?"

"I'm okay. Let... let me take point on this."

Pinkie nodded, then turned to address the whole group. "One thing though, before you all go. Kamryn said to me that after ten years of work, she isn't willing to abandon this lab without a fight. Can I just get a show of hooves... err, and hands... and claws... for everycreature who feels the same."

Every arm that wasn't Pinkie's rose into the air. Even Morpha's.

"So if I flew these ponies back to Equis to get them medical help, you'd all rather stay and take your chances trying to get this thing going?"

A flurry of nodding heads and mutters of 'yes', 'yep' and even a 'heck yeah' washed over the group.

"That's all I needed to know. Morpha, I'll pass over to you."

"Okay, everycreature follow me!" Morpha called out shakily, backtracking down the corridor as the group began to follow. "Flashlights on, we need to organise some search patterns. Let's do this!"

"Kamryn, Granite," Pinkie called out, as everycreature else began to file their way back towards the front module. "I think I have a plan to get this thing moving again."

Both the griffon and the minotaur peeled away from the group, which continued down the corridor as Morpha's voice faded away into the distance. Though Pinkie had come to expect a certain attitude from the griffons, Kamryn actually looked intrigued. Perhaps the ordeal Pinkie had put herself through had earned her some brownie points. She'd take what she could get.

"A plan's a good start," Granite said, grinning. "What's the action?"

"First, a question. These modules have retractable cranes, right?"

Kamryn raised an eyebrow. "Sí, they do, Tres. How did you..."

"There's a sketch, framed and hanging in the medbay. It shows Duskwalker with its cranes deployed. I'd already seen them when I studied the schematics, but it was the sketch that got me thinking. How strong are they?"

Granite blushed. "Yeah... I drew that, it was a gift for Melody... and each crane is independently strong enough hold the weight of the entire crawler, without breaking. Maybe a teeny bit overengineered, but I don't build anything less than a quality product."

"Perfect. Step one, I bring Wonderbird Three a bit closer, and you grab it with a crane. Or several. As many as can hold it flush to the side of the front module, ideally. Line it up so the rockets face towards the rear end of the crawler."

Now Kamryn's other eyebrow rose upwards. "You wanna elaborate on that, Tres?"

"We benefit from this in three ways. First, we can line Wonderbird Three up with the upper airlocks, giving me direct access between my ship and the crawler. Second, we can loop it in to the power grid. I got a fusion reactor onboard kicking out enough gigawatts to knock your socks off, but we can use it to take the strain off of the backup generators. And third, we get a bit of thrust for a jump start."

"A jump start?" Granite asked. "Hmm... maybe. But we've been stationary for more than a week. It also depends on how much the generators have been able to sustain the battery banks."

"Wait a sec," Kamryn jumped in. "What about using the emergency solar array as well?"

For a few seconds, Granite seemed to consider this. His eyebrows creased as the tiniest of frowns worked its way across his muzzle. "That might work," he whispered.

"Solar array?" Pinkie asked.

"As a part of the redundancies on board," Granite explained. "They gave us a few crates of solar panels, with a couple of miles of cabling. STEED's thinking was that in an absolute crisis, we could set the panels up miles behind the crawler. The rising sun would power us up and we could get moving before the light hit us. I told STEED it was pointless to send them up with us, because on their own it wouldn't be enough power, but... well, guess I'm eating my own words now."

"So, let's get this straight," Pinkie said. "Lay those panels out, a mile behind us? Gives us another mile of slack to get moving with. Combined effort of the panels and Wonderbird Three's reactor to get the power banks charged, then fire the rocket engines to give us a real jump start. Once the engines are going, crank Duskwalker to full speed and get ourselves well and truly out of the sun."

Granite turned to Kamryn. "It could work boss. Like, seriously, it could really work."

"You're actually gonna stay and help, Tres? You could just take these ponies, get them home and leave us to it."

"I hate uncertainties," Pinkie explained. "I could fly them home, but if you guys can't get going you'll all be toasted. And that'll be on me. If I stay, it gives us more chance of success, and you get a chance to escape if it goes wrong. Though, I'll only stay on one condition."

"Okay Tres, what's your bargain?" Kamryn asked, cocking her head and crossing her arms.

"Anycreature non-essential to the restart? I want them on board Wonderbird Three, seated and secure with thirty minutes to spare before the sun first hits those solar panels. If anything goes wrong, we won't have time for a full evacuation. And if it does go wrong, we bail at the first sign of trouble and get ourselves home. If all goes well though, everycreature willing to stay can disembark and I'll take the ponies back to Equis."

"We'd only need the three of us, boss," Granite added. "It sounds fair enough."

With narrow eyes, Kamryn looked Pinkie up and down again. Not that it would accomplish much. Pinkie's helmet visor was solid black when viewed from the outside, so it must had to be a performative thing. Griffon nature, maybe a show of superiority? Whatever, Pinkie didn't care, as long as she stayed in Kamryn's good books.

"Okay Tres," she finally said, offering a claw of agreement out to Pinkie. "Deal. Now, let's get this damn machine going again."
> IV: Sol Quidam Orietur
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"'Three to base, we are at thirty five minutes until solar kickstart, making final checks now. All passengers except Kamryn and Granite are seated and secure onboard Wonderbird Three."

"Copy that, 'Three. We expect signal loss ten minutes before you have sunrise, so check in with us as soon as you're clear."

"Thanks, base. Here's hoping we'll be back with you in no time. Over and out."

It turned out, four days was not much time at all when preparing for a plan as elaborate as jumpstarting a several-hundred-thousand tonne mobile laboratory. To the surprise of everycreature, the initial process of finding and rounding up the sedated ponies had been fairly straightforward. Less than an hour after Morpha had released the aerosol into the ventilation, seventeen dozing bodies had been laid out in the corridor outside the medbay. The next step had been more complex. Recruiting Minerva, Robyn and Swiftwing as assistant medics, Morpha had opted to place every single pony in a medically induced coma. The process had been arduous, restraining each of them to metal bedframes with heavy cargo straps, then giving each one a intravenous drip and a feeding tube. They all looked just as malnourished as the non-equines, having had the same ten day span since their previous meals. At least being under observation meant they'd all get some much-needed nutrition.

When everypony was secure, and Kamryn was satisfied that they wouldn't be waking up any time soon, she'd ordered the air supply to be reconnected to the rear two modules. With fresh, untainted air circulating, the aerosol would dissipate faster. Everycreature on board waited on Morpha's all-clear before removing their helmets, but Pinkie kept hers on. If there really was some kind of pathogen still doing the rounds, one that only affected ponies, she couldn't take that risk.

With one problem at least under control, Pinkie could start on her side of the arrangement. She had returned to Wonderbird Three, engaged the manoeuvring thrusters, and set about the delicate task of easing the rocket into range of the Duskwalker's cranes. Thick articulated arms had emerged from panels in the frontmost module, one of them reaching a clawed hand to grasp the midsection of Wonderbird Three. It had picked up the rocket, swivelled it to face the nose forward, and then pulled it tight into place against the hull. Two more cranes had emerged from the module, grasping the top and bottom of the rocket to anchor it firmly in place. When Pinkie returned to the airlock, she was pleased to find it lining up exactly with the external doors of the Duskwalker. She'd extended the docking tunnel, her console confirming a good air seal. Transit between the two craft would be a lot simpler.

The next few days were a flurry of non-stop activity. With the combined power of the two machines, there was enough energy in the grid to turn the main lights back on in the crawler. This made the preparations a lot easier. Pinkie worked with Morpha to section off a large area of Wonderbird Three's cargo bay as a hazmat zone, somewhere to secure the beds of all the sedated ponies, and isolate them from the rest of the ship. Each of the machines connected to them would keep them fed, hydrated and stable, Pinkie would just need to monitor them during the flight back to Equis. STEED were informed of the situation, and Pinkie was to fly straight to the control centre in Hoofston where a medical team was being prepared. Meanwhile, the crew of Duskwalker took shifts to monitor the ponies and their intravenous machines.

On top of their medical obligations, everycreature worked hard to prep the crawler for the big restart. With access to decent food, they progressed quickly. Kamryn and Granite spent most of the second day loading the solar panel array onto a giant buggy, which they drove off into the darkness. They had to progress slowly, unspooling a long line of cable as they went. It was more than six hours after they disappeared over the horizon that they finally returned. But, they had been pleased to report, the solar panels were all in position. Unloading, setting up, and aligning the panels had been an agonising process. It had taken far longer than either of them had anticipated. They had made sure to leave one mile of slack in the cable, as agreed, to give Duskwalker some time to get up to speed before the line went taut and ripped away from the panels.

One of the more harrowing parts of the plan, however, lay in setting small explosive charges to each of the grab arms attaching Wonderbird Three to Duskwalker's cranes. Pinkie had reasoned that if they needed to abandon the restart plan, there wouldn't be time to manually disengage the clamps. So if they needed to disconnect in a hurry, the only way to do so would be with a small, controlled explosion to sever the connection. She'd set the charges herself, heart in throat the entire time.

If Pinkie was ready for one thing, though, it was the ability to travel from one place to another without having to deal with long-winded decontamination procedures. Several times a day, she had to pass through the airlock between the crawler and Wonderbird Three, every time being subjected to awkward minutes of air purging, scrubbing and ultraviolet cleansing. It got old very fast. When time came for sleep, she'd return to the rocket, radio a report through to Rarity, and then retire to her sleeping quarters. She had to take all her meals in isolation too. It got lonely, also very fast.

So she skipped with excitement as she left the airlock, entering Duskwalker for what would be the final time, however things played out. After checking on everycreature, including the sleeping ponies, she'd carried out the startup procedure on Wonderbird Three. It would have to be ready to go at the push of a button, which necessitated its engines be prepped for launch well in advance. The stunned looks on everycreatures faces when she'd announced to them her rocket could be operated by remote control was a sight she'd savour for a long time.

"Everycreature secure and ready," she announced as she stepped into the secondary module. "Sunrise contact with solar array in twenty five minutes."

"Sí, twenty five minutes, Tres. All looking good our end," Kamryn replied with a nod.

"Connection with solar array steady," Granite added, holding up a tablet computer. "Cells have started trickle charging in the light from dawn, but we won't see any big numbers until we get direct sunlight on them."

"Copy that," Pinkie said. "Let's move."

All three of them walked through the cavernous space, heading for the aft end. The tail module, housing the fuels and coolants that made the crawler function, also housed all the relays and pumps that circulated the critical fluids throughout the entire machine. Granite had explained that to ease the restart process, it would be better to oversee it from a computer terminal there. Thankfully there was one right by the airlock that connected it to the second module. The proximity to an airlock was ideal if they needed to evacuate. But just as a precaution, both Kamryn and Granite were wearing their EVA suits.

"It's pretty loco," Kamryn mused as they walked. "This huge machine can't stand up to the sunlight, but your little rocket can."

"Well there's no atmosphere here for Duskwalker to descend through on landing," Pinkie pointed out. "The heat shield would be extra weight. Wonderbird Three needs to withstand re-entry on Equis, so it needs its advanced shielding to maintain structural integrity. And it makes for pretty convenient plot armour."

"Sí, I know, it's just... wait, what?"

"Hmm?"

"...actually, never mind."

Granite snickered to himself as they approached the airlock. With a flourish of her hoof, Pinkie waved it open. The trio proceeded down the link corridor, emerging at the other side moments later into another cavernous chamber. It was a huge space, dominated by towering storage tanks and pumping stations the size of buildings. Just to one side of the main airlock, a control booth sat on a slightly elevated platform. Inside was a large, wraparound console covered with illuminated screens and switches. Pinkie, Kamryn and Granite all took their places, and set themselves to work. Minutes ticked by in a hushed symphony of tapping and clicking, as they each performed the various checks and tasks they'd divided between themselves. 

"Two minutes until solar kickstart," Granite announced. "You guys ready?"

"Ready," Pinkie and Kamryn replied in unison.

The countdown continued. Tension hung in the air, palpable and relentless, but there was nothing else to do but steel themselves. It was too late to change any aspects of the plan now, the only options were to commit or bail. Fight or flight. An odd sense of calm settled over Pinkie as Granite started counting down, out loud, from ten. They had their plan. They all knew what to do. They were going to pull this off. With a slow exhale, Pinkie cracked her neck as Granite's countdown reached zero. Immediately, the tablet in his hand trilled with excitement.

"Híjole," Kamryn gasped as she watched the numbers on her screen start to rise. "Power banks charging successfully, really damn fast too!"

"I'm getting the same readings here," Pinkie confirmed. "By these numbers, I give us eight minutes until we have enough charge to push for a good restart. How long will those panels last in direct sunlight before the heat destroys them?"

Kamryn let out a subdued chuckle. "About ten minutes, Tres. And how long before the sunlight hits us?"

"Errr... nine minutes."

"Gonna be tight, ese. Keeps things interesting, sí?"

It was the longest eight minutes of Pinkie's life. At least, it would have been, if they'd made it to eight minutes without any distractions. Pinkie had set an eight minute countdown timer, a reference point to help her monitor the battery charge rate. As the countdown reached three minutes remaining, her console blared in warning and an alert flashed up on her screen.

"What?" she gasped. "Kamryn, what does this mean by 'security hazard'?"

The griffon inclined her head towards Pinkie. "Err... looks like the security systems just came back online. It means the cameras picked up suspicious activity. I set you up with Star Searcher's login so it probably defaulted to you due to rank. Just ignore it Tres, everything is pretty damn suspicious at the moment."

'At the moment', yeah, everything was completely out of the ordinary. But Pinkie pursed her lips as she looked over the alert flashing on her screen. This 'suspicious activity' had a timestamp from two weeks ago. On the day the crawler broke down. Pushing Kamryn's objection to the back of her mind, she reached up and pressed at it.

It was a video file, security camera footage. Some hidden section of the crawler, but she recognised the shape of one of the ventilation relays. Flashing red lights lit up the screen in momentary bursts, so the footage would have been captured just after the engines shut down. And just moments before the on-board computers deactivated the security systems to direct all power to life support. Pinkie watched as a figure appeared from one side of the screen, holding a cylindrical object. The figure flicked a switch on the cylinder, lifted a cover and dropped it into the relay. Then a strip of beacon light cast itself over the hidden figure, momentarily bringing its features into clarity: two large horns on its head, a tall but slender frame, and a dignified streak of grey running through its hair.

*click*

Pinkie froze. She twisted her head ever so slightly, peering her eyes around to catch it in her peripheral vision. The gun, hammer cocked, hovered just inches from her helmet.

"I really wish you hadn't seen that," Granite murmured. "It would have made this whole process a lot simpler."

"Toro, what are you doing?" Kamryn hissed. "Where the heck did you get a gun? Have you lost your gizzard?!"

"Sorry boss, but there's a plan I have to stick to. Don't move a muscle, unless you want to be responsible for something pretty grim. Three here's been good for morale, but bad for keeping things how they're supposed to go. Believe me, I don't particularly want to pull the trigger here, but I'll do what I have to."

"You sabotaged Duskwalker," Pinkie said in a whisper as she turned her body to face Granite. "You cut the engines off, released the pathogen into the air circulation."

Granite smirked, raising the hand holding his tablet in the air in mock surrender. "Guilty as charged! You know, it's surprisingly difficult to manufacture an airborne disease that only targets the DNA structure of ponies. At least, that's what I've been told."

"Told? Told by who?"

"The folks who made it, of course."

Kamryn had fallen to her haunches, beak clacking and eyes turning red as she took in what she was seeing. "Y-y-y... you broke my crawler? You turned my crew into mindless monsters? You left us all stranded without food on some feathering rock in space for ten days?! What the heck is wrong with you, are you loco in the head?!"

With a resigned sigh, Granite clipped his tablet to a loop on his belt, then reached up with his free hand and pulled his helmet off. "Oh get over yourself Kamryn, it's not your crawler, it's Star Searcher's. And it's pretty straightforward: I make sure the mission fails, and my benefactors make sure my family is set for life, financially. My calf, as you well know, he's pretty sick. Even on my wages we barely manage to get him the help he needs, but if I do this? All his bills will be taken care of, for life. You see Three, not everywhere has a nationalised health system. And I'll do anything for my calf, so don't you dare test me."

Granite's tablet let out a frenzied series of beeps. Casting her eyeline down to it, Pinkie saw the warning lights flash up. The solar panels had been destroyed. Almost simultaneously, the hull of the crawler began to creak and moan above them. If their timings had been correct, then Duskwalker had been sat exposed to direct sunlight for about a minute. The sounds were not a good sign.

"So your family gets money," Pinkie said, her breathing shaky as her mind raced to formulate an escape. "What do your 'benefactors' get out of the bargain."

"They get to prevent a united global space agency from forming. Oh, just imagine the scandal of the news dropping. Minotaurs, griffons and a changeling, sent to their doom on a piece of Equestrian technology. The sentient races will never collaborate again. And hey, if the other races choose to blame Equestria for the disaster, who knows what'll happen next? Sanctions, disputes, maybe even war? Not that it'll be a problem for any of us."

"Why go along with the ruse all this time?" Kamryn asked, a tear running down her cheek as she sat seething.

"Simple really," Granite said with a shrug. "I had to make sure it all went without a hitch. If word got out that it was my sabotage, it would kinda lose the dramatic climax back on Equis. Wouldn't quite kill the idea of unifying space exploration in the right way. And everycreature would be placing blame on the Minotaur Fiefdoms, not on Equestria."

"I invited you to my wedding!" Kamryn screeched back, rearing up in fury. "You were at the hatching of my first chick! I trusted you, toro, and you betrayed me! Betrayed all of us. This whole time you were planning against us, leading us to a grisly fate and just... just pretending to be our compadre!"

For the first time, a crack began to show in Granite's resolve. His eyes turned watery, and his expression hardened as the gun began to tremble in his hand. He bit his lip, but never took his eyes off of Pinkie.

"So what now," she asked. "Hold us at gunpoint, make sure we don't go anywhere and then... just wait for us all to burn?"

Granite nodded shakily. "And with the radiation interference from the Sun, there's no way any signals will get back to Equis, even with your advanced equipment. All anycreature down there will know is that something went wrong, and none of us walked away. Even the great Equestrial Rescue couldn't save us."

A sound like a gunshot ripped through the chamber. Pinkie flinched, but no pain came. Nothing. The weapon held in front of her hadn't moved. In surprise, Granite looked up and around, seeking out the origin of the noise. Giving Pinkie the exact opening she needed. She wheeled around, turning one hundred and eighty degrees on the spot, and kicked hard with her back legs. Her hooves thudded as they contacted Granite's sternum, and sent him flying with a wheezing grunt. The gun clattered to the floor at Pinkie's hooves as Granite sailed out of the control room, crashing down the stairs and landing in a heap near the airlock door. His tablet followed him, smashing against the handrail on the stairs with a sickening crunch. His helmet slid under the guardrails and fell out of sight.

Pinkie grabbed the gun and hurled it across the cavernous module, far away from Granite's reach. "Come on!" she shouted to Kamryn. 

It took a few seconds for the griffon to come back to her senses, but she nodded as a gasp of disbelief escaped her beak. Pinkie led her down the stairs, leaping over Granite's crumpled form and waving a hoof at the airlock door. It whooshed open, and Pinkie charged through with Kamryn right on her tail. For a brief moment, she tried her best to recall the quickest route back to Wonderbird Three. Her focus was dragged back to her present location as a sharp crack erupted through the air, and she leapt aside as a bullet ricocheted off the floor just inches to her left. 

She screeched to a halt, Kamryn bumping into her flank, and she turned. Just on the other side of the airlock doorway, Granite was pulling himself to his hooves, another gun held in one shaking hand. It was pointed right at them.

"Are you stupid?" he scolded. "You really think that I would risk losing the gun? Of course I brought a spare one, just in case anycreature tried somethi-"

Granite never finished his sentence. As he spoke, a deafening groan pierced the module. Another sound similar to a gunshot followed, accompanied with an almighty whooshing noise. Pinkie and Kamryn yelped as they found themselves yanked forwards by an invisible force. They rolled and tumbled, dragged towards the doorway in a roaring tempest of air pressure, and Pinkie clenched her eyes as she willed it to be over quickly. Then the wind was knocked out of her as she stopped dead against something solid.

With a moan, she peeked open her eyes. The airlock had slammed shut, halting them in their tracks, but the force of air being dragged out of the chamber had given them enough momentum to crash into the door. Painfully. Pinkie gasped, the glass section of the door level with her head. She had a clear picture of what lay beyond. The tail module was a scene of total devastation. Subjected to the incredible heat of sunlight, the hull integrity had failed, popping open like a soda can and ejecting every loose object out into the burning vacuum. Anything still inside was now being exposed to blistering heat. Pipes exploded in torrents of steam. Panels and consoles fried on the spot, releasing showers of sparks. Silos and tanks, previously bolted to the floor of the module, collapsed and buckled, dumping their contents in a maelstrom of writhing fluids that instantly vaporised as they were sucked out into the blackness. 

And Granite. He'd been stood just the other side of the doorway. Now he was gone.

"We gotta get out of here, Tres!" Kamryn screamed, turning to run.

Pinkie followed suit, with a really bad idea at the forefront of her mind. They weren't going to restart Duskwalker now. The crawler itself was doomed. But the secondary module, the one they were retreating into, would fall to the same fate as the rearmost one if they didn't get it out of sunlight, quickly. Since it was no longer able to move at all under its own power, only one option remained. Interrupting her charge to safety with as brief a pause she could manage, Pinkie stopped just as she passed through the airlock. She reached to her wrist-mounted computer. With her hoof trembling furiously, she selected Wonderbird Three's engines and activated them. She set them straight to full throttle.

An almighty roar filled their ears as both Pinkie and Kamryn were thrown backwards to the floor. The cavernous space around them screeched and lurched as the power of the rocket began to propel it forwards. Pipes hissed as they ruptured at the fittings, handrails groaned against the vibrations that emanated through the hull, and even light fixtures tumbled down as the ceiling far above began to fill with darkness. The entire crawler led out a deep, trembling moan as Wonderbird Three dragged it along far faster than it had ever been built to go. Like a colossal beast rising from slumber, and thrown immediately down a path of destruction. 

As their world quaked and rumbled around them, Pinkie looked up to see Kamryn pulling herself to her feet, a vicious looking crack now marring the helmet of her EVA suit. Pinkie struggled to regain her own footing, her tail twitching furiously, as sparks flew out from panels around them. The escape module, once a hall of salvation, had become an echoing chamber of nightmares, as metal rafters high above groaned out against the horrific stresses being put on the hull of the disintegrating crawler. Gigantic ceiling panels began to crash down to the floor as Kamryn ripped off her helmet.

"Go, Tres! Go!" she shouted. "Get the doors, I'll catch up!"

Without any time to argue, Pinkie ran. She cast a brief look back over her shoulder, seeing Kamryn pulling the top half of her suit over her head. Without the helmet it was useless anyway, extra bulk and weight that would slow her escape. Pinkie struggled against the growing intensity of Duskwalker's death rattle, diving forward in quick bursts but only progressing slowly. Huge metal panels continued to rain down from on high, and she had to keep casting upward glances just to make sure nothing landed on her. Junction boxes burst like balloons, sending showers of sparks from above, and turning the path ahead into an uneven mass of twisted metal and glowing embers.

Then, with an thundering boom, she was airborne. As Duskwalker charged forward, it must have hit something. Images of the craters dotting Marecury's surface raced through Pinkie's mind. For a gut-wrenching few seconds, she found herself lifted up into the air. Or had the artificial gravity failed? Either way, she figured she'd find out in a few seconds. If the crawler crashed back down again, she'd be thrown straight into the floor. And that was going to hurt.

Except then, she remained airborne. Something had grabbed her from behind. Pinkie yelped as the unseen something tackled her, wrapping muscular arms around her midriff and sending her hurtling forwards. Below her, all the floating debris slammed down with a sickening crash to the floor of the chamber once again. But instead of impacting the floor, Pinkie was rocketing along through the air above it. Stunned, she looked back over her shoulder.

It was Kamryn. Out of the chaos, she'd caught up. Having ditched her EVA suit, she was now totally unrestricted in her movements. While Pinkie had been floating and flailing, Kamryn had grabbed hold and wrapped both arms and legs around her midsection, plucking her out of the air like a claw machine. Now, Kamryn was flying them both through the chaos of Duskwalker's rapid unplanned disassembly. Her wings, small but powerful, seemed to effortlessly power the pair of them through the tumultuous module. She dipped and weaved, dodging falling debris with knife-edge precision.

"Get the door, Tres!" she shouted, barely intelligible over the deafening noises.

Looking forward, Pinkie gasped. They had already made it across the full length of the secondary module. Careening towards them was the airlock door, the access into the primary module. Kamryn wasn't slowing down. In the space of a breath, the door grew from a small spot on Pinkie's peripheral vision, to occupying her entire eyeline. She flicked her hoof. The door whooshed open a split second before the hurtling streak of pony and griffon raced past. Only moments later, the second airlock door was bearing down on them, and Pinkie had to give another wave of her hoof to prevent them from crashing into it.

Kamryn maintained her pace once they were inside the cramped corridors of the frontmost module. The sprawling passageways, once a hub of scientific endeavour, had been thrown into absolute pandemonium. The floor trembled and cracked apart, gigantic strips of metal buckling under the immense strain. By now, every single wall seemed to have shaken loose any pipework or ventilation shaft that had been bolted to it, and the debris danced around in frenzied movements along the ground. The narrow passages seemed to intensify the echoes of every sound: clanging floor plates, tearing metal as jagged beams crashed through sections of ceiling, screaming pipes erupting with steam. All of it accompanied by the constant, throaty grumble of Wonderbird Three's engines.

As they passed walls showing ever-increasing signs of total collapse, Pinkie could feel Kamryn's pulse quicken. The griffon must have been mustering every ounce of agility she could spare. She banked sharply, left and right, seamlessly joining the dots from one corridor to the next. Her feathers brushed against buckled sections of wall that reached outwards into the passageways, and seemed to be reaching out further and further with every passing moment. If they continued, Kamryn's forward flight would be less of a desperate charge to freedom, and more akin to threading a needle. Then, suddenly , she pulled up in a sharp ascent as they reached a small stairway. One that led to the upper levels. They were nearly through.

"Computer!" Pinkie yelled into her headset. "Override decontamination protocols, stat! Authorisation code Alpha-One-Thirteen!"

"Override confirmed. Decontamination protocols suspended," a robotic voice chirped in reply.

They banked around one last corner, and there it was. Right in front of them, the grey metal airlock opened onto a red one. The red door danced and jolted around in the background, like the link between two bouncing train carriages. Pinkie gave one last flourish of her hoof, and both sides of the airlock shot open. Only when they were through both doors, did Kamryn attempt to slow down. Thrusting her paws into the floor and spreading her wings to full width, Pinkie and Kamryn screeched to a halt just a moment too late. The pair of them slammed into the wall opposite Wonderbird Three's airlock, hard. Even with the wind knocked out of her, which had happened far too often in the last few days, Pinkie was quick to recover. Adrenaline had taken full control. 

"Buckle up," she ordered, gesturing Kamryn to a folding seat mounted the bulkhead.

The griffon obliged, pulling down the seat and proceeding to strap herself in. Pinkie bounded towards the cockpit, slamming her hoof against the button to close the airlock as she went. No longer inside Duskwalker with the artificial gravity to assist, her movements felt sluggish. But she made use of her surroundings, pushing her hooves against various sections of Wonderbird Three's wall and floor plates to expedite her access to the flight deck. Emerging through one last doorway, she gasped as she took in the view through the windscreen. 

Marecury's sprawling grey landscape raced by in a blur, an alien terrain deforming into an abstract painting as it shot past the windows. But ahead, looming out of the darkness, a gigantic formation of rock rose high above them. A sheer cliff face, growing closer and closer as the rocket sent the crawler hurtling towards it at speeds it had never been designed to reach. 

Pinkie dove for the control seat. With the constant acceleration working against her, she had to scramble and grab at any piece of purchase her hooves could find. But with one hard push off of one of the passenger seats, she managed to grasp one of the safety harnesses on her chair. Using it as an anchor point, she hauled herself forward, pulling herself up and over the back of her seat, and jumped down into place.

"Detonating charges," she shouted, flicking up a safety cover and pressing down on the button below it.

Three loud puffing sounds emanated in quick succession from somewhere outside. The grabbing arms holding Wonderbird Three against the Duskwalker shrieked a metallic wail, as the shockwaves from the charges shattered their internal workings. One by one they fell limp, jolting the rocket as it freed itself from the ball and chain weighing it down. No longer confined to the duties of towing, and with the engines still at full throttle, the acceleration increased tenfold. Pinkie was thrown hard into the back of her seat as her hooves eased at the controls, nudging Wonderbird Three away from the out-of-control crawler now careening across Marecury's dusty landscape under its own momentum.

When she was satisfied the rocket was no longer in danger of colliding against the Duskwalker, Pinkie pulled back on her controls. Wonderbird Three rose steeply, dragging Pinkie downwards with crushing force that caused the muscles in her face to twitch. The grey terrain outside jolted into black as the rocket rose up, away from Marecury and into the blackness of empty space.

Amidst the thunderous roar of the engines, a series of deafening crashes reverberated up from somewhere far below. Pinkie strained to hear as her ears picked up on the curious sounds, but shuddered as she understood. The cacophonous, bone-chilling sounds of the Duskwalker, a hurtling iron behemoth, colliding ferociously against the cliff face. An apocalyptic symphony of destruction, rending metal and the shrieking of tortured wheels echoed through Wonderbird Three. Despite the fact that she was racing up and away, Pinkie's gut stirred as her mind's eye formed a clear picture of the Duskwalker meeting its cataclysmic end.

She eased back on the engine power as they rose higher and higher, the darkness of space enveloping Wonderbird Three as it soared away from the dusty planet. Pinkie's heart was still pounding as she swapped from rocket thrust to ion acceleration, immersing the whole craft in an eerie silence. The dying screeches of Duskwalker's final moments seemed to reverberate in her mind, a haunting reminder of the close shave they'd experienced. But they'd escaped.

Well, most of them had.

"Hey, Tres," came a voice from the doorway. Pinkie turned around and saw Kamryn, floating upside down and pulling herself along by rungs in the ceiling. "We... err... we made it."

Pinkie nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry. About... about Granite."

Kamryn's beak clacked. "I can't believe it, ese. He was my compadre, my amigo. I trusted him... but even he didn't deserve..."

She couldn't finish her sentence. Pinkie gestured to the co-pilot seat, and Kamryn pulled herself down into it.

"Look, I know it's not gonna be much comfort," Pinkie said. "But... I programmed my computer to link to the Duskwalker's data banks as soon as they powered up. I made a backup of all of the research you guys carried out down there."

"Wait, what? Seriously?"

"Mmmhmm. One of my best friends is a real intellect, you know, sciencey type of creature. I know how much she values research data, and I just wanted to make sure that, if the worst happened, the months you guys spent on Marecury would at least count for something."

The tiniest of smiles tugged at Kamryn's beak. "Tres... I dunno what to say. That... that..."

"Don't say anything," Pinkie replied, holding a hoof up. "I'm just doing my job."

Kamryn sighed. "Do me a favour though, Tres. Delete that recording from the security camera."

Pinkie's head tilted towards Kamryn. "...why, exactly?"

"I don't give a damn that Granite got stupid. He was still a good toro. I don't want it getting out there, what he did. And if anycreature asks, he sacrificed himself to save us."

"You're... you're sure about this?"

"Sí. And he was right, if the Equestrian government finds out a minotaur tried to sabotage the mission... well, I don't want any conflict to come from this. We tell everycreature he was a hero. Make sure his family are well compensated."

Warmth flooded Pinkie's chest. "You're kind of a sweetie, aren't you?"

"Eh," Kamryn shrugged. "Tough façade has to slip every now and then, ese. And looks like it don't matter whether or not I like it, we're going home now."

Pinkie winced. "Yep, twenty seven of us on this one rocket. Get comfy, it's gonna be a cramped two weeks."

"Actually, I had a thought about that. Can you dock with our command ship?"

"Errr..." Pinkie thought for a moment. "I should be able to. Why?"

"More thrusters, more speed, quicker journey. Sí?"

For the first time since leaving Wonderbird Three earlier, a genuine smile plastered itself across Pinkie's face. "And more room for us all to roam, right?"

Kamryn nodded. "Proper beds, room to walk around, and some bio-chem labs. Granite said the pathogen was manufactured. Now we know that, we could be able to produce an antidote."

"Alright then, you're the boss. Deal. Let's find that ship, and then let's get our keisters back home."