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Challenger

by Aiyonbeam

Chapter 1: Call Back the Cap-Com

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The crowd is silent as they stand before the podium in front of me. My subjects, normally so jovial, so cheerful and happy, so alive, are gathered around in somber silence.

Running a mental check to make sure my speech is properly and fully memorized, I begin.

"My friends," I say, the words coming soft, yet clear; amplified by the microphone, they ring out through the crowd, reaching even those on the edge of the mass and the cameras ensuring that they reach all of Equestria.

"I'd planned to speak to you tonight to report on the state of Equestria, but the events of earlier today have led me to change those plans. Luna and I..."

Tears, unbidden and unwanted, begin welling up in my eyes, and I blink them away. I will not - can not - show...

...Show what? Weakness? Sadness?
They've seen plenty of that from me recently.

When the tears come again, I do nothing, letting them etch lines down my face, dripping onto the wood below me. Still, I must reassure them. Even if their leader is broken, they need hope.
I need hope.

"Luna and I are pained to the core by the tragedy of the shuttle Challenger. We know we share this pain with all of the people of our country. This is truly a tremendous loss." My voice wavers as the flags behind me - one for Equestria and one for the Equestrian Space Program, both at half mast - flutter in the breeze, framing the large portrait of eight figures.
Eight of my charges, of the souls I'd tried so hard to protect...
Gone.

"Everyone knows of the multiple failures of the ESP; getting a rocket into the atmosphere was never an easy task. At times, it seemed an impossible one. But we'd never had a failure in flight. We've never had a tragedy like this."

The crowd is still quiet. I can hear sniffles; the sound of quiet weeping as the gathered mourn together.

"I've always had great faith in and respect for our space program. And what happened today does nothing to diminish it. We don't hide our space program. We don't keep secrets and cover things up. We do it all up front and in public. That's the way freedom is, and we wouldn't change it for a minute.

I wish I could talk to every man and woman who works for the ESP, or who worked on this mission, and tell them: 'Your dedication and professionalism have moved and impressed us for decades. And we know of your anguish. We share it.'

"And perhaps we've forgotten the courage it took for the crew of the shuttle. But they, the Challenger Eight, were aware of the dangers, but overcame them and did their jobs brilliantly. We mourn eight heroes today."

The poster behind me lights up, illuminating the figures in turn.
"Applejack. Rainbow Dash. Pinkie Pie. Rarity. Spike. Fluttershy. And lastly, my two students..."

The words won't, can't come. I'm perfectly aware of why; I know that once I say them, I'm forced to accept them as fact.
But this is what we do, what I do; what Equestria does. We move on. Even when darkness chokes us, we move on.
And I need to say them.

"Sunset Shimmer and Twilight Sparkle." I finish.

The crowd's crying intensifies, as does mine and my sister's beside me.

"For the families of the eight, we cannot bear, as you do, the full impact of this tragedy. But we feel the loss, and we're thinking about you so very much. Your loved ones were daring and brave, and they had that special grace, that special spirit that says, 'Give me a challenge, and I'll meet it with joy.' They had a hunger to explore the universe and discover its truths. They wished to serve, and they did. They served all of us.

We've grown used to wonders in these recent years; With the meteors that have landed, bringing us new technology, new materials, and new ideas, it's hard to dazzle us. But for five years now the Equestrian Space Program has been doing just that. We've grown used to the idea of space, and, perhaps we forget that we've only just begun. We're still pioneers. They, the members of the Challenger crew, were pioneers."

And now I've arrived at the part of the speech I dread the most. The children, the ones who will never fully understand what happened this morning, the ones who my precious ones sacrificed their lives to help; I must address them now, explain why they'll never see Princess Twilight or Spike or their sisters ever again.

"And I want to say something to the schoolchildren of Equestria who were watching the live coverage of the shuttle's take-off. I know it's hard to understand, but sometimes painful things like this happen. It's all part of the process of exploration and discovery. It's all part of taking a chance and expanding man's horizons. The future doesn't belong to the fainthearted; it belongs to the brave. The Challenger crew was pulling us into the future, and we will continue to follow them."

There is a collective silence. It's fitting, in a way. The smart ones put two and two together, and the others have simply run dry on tears. No matter; the final address will be the thing they remember most.
The tears have stopped. My voice is no longer trembling. The next words I speak are loud, bold, and clear; they need to be.

"We will continue our quest in space. There will be more shuttle flights and more shuttle crews and, yes, more volunteers, more civilians, more teachers in space. Nothing ends here; our hopes and our journeys continue.

The crew of the space shuttle Challenger honored us by the manner in which they lived their lives. We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye, slipping the surly bonds of this world to venture boldly into the infinite.

Thank you."

The crowd explodes with noise, an outraged cry of rage and pain and fear. I stand there, staring it down, taking it in.
It's my fault this happened; this is my penance, my punishment.

As I stand there, and as the crowd roars, as the Royal Guards attempt to keep them back, there is a flash.
A blinding light.
A wave of magic that makes the world sway.

And there they are.

All eight of them, standing proudly on the stage, dressed in the same orange uniforms they donned only hours ago.

This can't be real.
This is not real.
They died. All eight of them. I saw the shuttle explode; felt the sweeping loss as eight lives disappeared forever.
And yet here they stand, unharmed and unworried, as if they'd only been gone for a few minutes to use the restroom and have come back to find everything different.

There is a stunned silence as everyone - myself included - attempts to process this.

"Well," Sunset Shimmer finally says, blinking and gazing at the scene. "This has a twisted sort of irony to it."

"You can say that again." Twilight replies.

I can't tell if I black out at that, or if it's Pinkie Pie's cry of "This calls for a celebration!" that does it.

Author's Notes:

All right, here we go! Another series!
I got the idea all at once while listening to a certain song, and decided to make it a fic. I've got some neat ideas for where to take it, and I'm pumped just thinking about it!

Next Chapter: Tick Off the Time Bomb Estimated time remaining: 31 Minutes
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