Through the narrow and scratched window, a probe was visible emerging from the base of the vessel and floating slowly into the asteroid field immediately outside, manipulated by an extension of blue energy. Once it was positioned amongst the asteroids, the blue energy released it and the scanning process began.

Scootaloo watched it go. Seeing it was actually quite boring, but this had rapidly become the most interesting part of her job. As the probe relayed information back to the ship’s internal systems, Scootaloo checked the translucent blue panels of magic that relayed information about their position.

“Sassa!” she said, “we’re drifting eight degrees to port! Are you just going to sit there or are you going to beach us on an asteroid?”

The cyan-colored hemsmare jerked awake, pulling her head off her control panel. It had left a large red mark on her forehead. “Huh? What? Where am I? Oh.” She looked around and yawned. “It’s fine. A little drift is normal…” She lifted her forelegs and put them across the controls, laying back down.

Scootaloo sighed, resisting the urge throw Sassaflash off of her threadbare surplus chair. Instead, she opened a separate window at the side of her captain’s chair and took control of the helm herself. It was not complicated, but it was not her job.

Her other panel indicated that data was coming back from the probe. A Pegasus mare approached Scootaloo’s right side. She was pure white, save for her deep red eyes and her luxurious mane and tail, both of which had been dyed a matching color.

“The report, Wintry?”

“The field contains high concentrations of platinum, palladium, iridium, and boron,” she stated. “Among other things. Selenium and iron levels are low. Interestingly, we are also detecting the partial wreckage of a vessel.”

“Anything recent?”

Wintrygust shook her head. “Age estimates put it at over four hundred years old. The asteroids have damaged it badly. Unfortunately, there is little worth salvaging.”

“So this one is useless too.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Scootaloo sighed. “Well, raise the beacon and send the report to the survey database. Onto the next one, I guess.”

“Yes, Captain,” said Wintrygust, smiling. “Don’t worry, Captain. I’m sure we’ll find plenty of resources in the next one.”

“It’s not like we get paid more if we do,” noted Sassaflash from her half-asleep stupor.

“You’re not going to get paid at all if you don’t start doing your job,” said Scootaloo.

“I am doing my job. I’m at the helm, aren’t I?” She adjusted herself, and then started snoring softly.

Scootaloo groaned and started to maneuver the vessel out of the asteroid field. Behind her, Wintrygust walked along the row of control stations that sat behind Scootaloo, activating and validating the beacon’s signal. Despite the tiny amount of space between those panels, they were meant to be commanded by several ponies. There were even rusted mounts for their chairs in the floor. As a breeder, though, Wintrygust was able and happy to run all of them on her own.

Suddenly, something beeped. Scootaloo instinctively held her breath, not knowing if that was a normal beep or an “atmosphere venting” beep like the week prior. She looked over her shoulder and saw Wintrygust looking at the panel, surprised.

“What is it, Wintry?”

“A priority transmission. On a diplomatic channel.”

“A diplomatic channel? Why would anypony want to talk to us?”

“Should I ignore it, then?”

“No. Open it up. Probably a wrong number.”

Wintrygust nodded, activating the system. In the front left area of the tightly packed bridge, a projection apparatus smoked and hummed to life, projecting a blue hologram. Initially, it appeared as a repeating image of a stallion prancing in socks.

“Ah, crap, Sassa!” cried Scootaloo, turning away as Wintrygust giggled and covered her mouth. “Is that what you do on the third shift?”

Sassaflash snorted herself awake. “Huh? Oh. Caramel. I think he’s cute. Oh. Wait. You’re not supposed to see that.” She slapped her hoof against her panel several times until she hit the right button, deactivating her recording. Scootaloo was glad that she had cut Sassaflash’s helm control, or their ship probably would just have jumped to FTL speed as she fumbled for the off switch.

The hologram was now replaced with one representing a transmission. It rapidly resolved, but instead of forming a translucent stallion it resolved into a lanky unicorn with a terribly uncomfortable looking dress.

Scootaloo blinked and leaned forward sharply. “Sweetie Belle?”

Sweetie Belle’s translucent and monochrome holographic eyes turned to Scootaloo, her image flickering slightly. She smiled, but then looked around the bridge and stuck her tongue out in disgust.

“Scootaloo, this is the ship they gave you?”

“Yeah,” admitted Scootaloo. “You don’t like the RENS Failure?”

“It isn’t called that. Is it?”

“No, but it might as well be. It doesn’t actually have a real name.”

“What happened to the Rainbow Dash?”

“Decommissioned and shoved into the sun. The name got shifted to a new battlefrigate.”

“Harsh.”

“Why are you here, Sweetie Belle?”

“Is it wrong to want to talk to my second-best friend in the whole galaxy?”

“It is when you’re using a priority diplomatic channel. Where did you even get access to it?”

“I’m borrowing my sister’s.”

“DON’T do that. Trust me on this, Sweetie. I’ve tried. It never ends well.”

“Well, I didn’t know how else to reach you.”

“We have a communication relay uplink,” explained Wintrygust.

Sweetie Belle blinked, surprised by Wintrygust’s presence. “Scootaloo, when did you get a breeder?”

“I didn’t ‘get’ her. She’s part of my crew.”

“I like what you did with her hair. But I thought you weren’t supposed to color them like that.”

“The Captain gives me leeway to change my own colors,” said Wintrygust with uncharacteristic defensiveness, however slight it might have been.

“It’s just…weird. But that’s not why I called.” Sweetie Belle leaned in closer to the camera she was using as though that would actually get her closer to Scootaloo instead of enlarging and distorting her hologram. “I just got word that something big is going down. I’m at the Citadel right now- -you know, the alien one?”

“I’ve been there,” said Scootaloo. “I almost watched Rainbow Dash blow it up.” Still, Scootaloo was surprised. She had not been especially familiar with current events in Equestria, but she had heard that there were motions a few years back to begin establishing diplomatic relations with the Council. After what had happened five years ago, though, Scootaloo had never assumed that it would work out.

“Oh. I forgot. Hey, do you think it’s weird that even though we’re from different galaxies, everypony here speaks the same language?”

Scootaloo had actually never thought about that before. “Is that what you came to ask? I’m not a linguist.”

“It’s not that! Something big is happening! There’s a crystal pony here- -”

“Crystal pony?” said Sassaflash, waking up with a start and then immediately falling asleep with her head lolling back over the edge of her chair. Scootaloo had roughly the same reaction internally, but did not show it as obviously.

“There’s an actually crystal pony? There?” said Scootaloo.

“Yeah. I’ve never seen one. He’s actually not that bad looking. But he says some kind of big ship is headed for his galaxy. Rarity says he thinks it’s Equestrian, but…”

“With Rainbow Dash as Fleet Commander, I don’t doubt that,” said Scootaloo coldly.

“But Rarity knows Rainbow Dash. Scootaloo, I think this is something completely different. Call it mare’s intuition.”

“Sweetie, I’m a mare too. And my intuition isn’t saying anything.”

“Oh. Sorry, sometimes I forget. The short hair and all. But I really think you should know about this…imagine what Rainbow Dash would think if you went and caught up with this thing? If you were the first to get information on it? It might- -”

Scootaloo held up a hoof, silencing Sweetie Belle. “No. Just, no,” she said. “I tried that once. Almost exactly that. And do you know what happened? It ended up destroying my relationship with my so-called ‘sister’ and torpedoed my career.”

“But you didn’t even get demoted- -”

“I mutinied and took control of the Fleet and directly threatened to destroy Tertiary Commander Lightning Dust and her entire crew. She has repeatedly submitted court-martialing proposals. The only reason Rainbow Dash didn’t take my rank is because of how bad it would make her look if her sister got demoted. So they put me here, and I’m going to survey space garbage until the day I die.”

“The way I heard it, you averted a war.”

“Which is treason to Rainbow Dash,” said Scootaloo, darkly. “Sweetie Belle…thank you for telling me, but I’m not doing that again. I just…I don’t care enough anymore. I’m done. This is my life now.”

“Scootaloo…”

“Goodbye, Sweetie Belle. Don’t call on this channel again.”

“But- -”

Scootaloo motioned for Wintrygust to cut the link. Wintrygust nodded and obeyed, causing Sweetie-Belle’s hologram to suddenly dissipate.

“That was a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“I just didn’t want her to get in trouble for using the channel. And besides, that dress…” Scootaloo shifted uncomfortably.

“Ah. I see.”

“We’re not changing the mission, though.” Scootaloo slid out of her chair. “We’re going to keep doing what we’re doing.”

“Are you sure that’s really what you want to do?”

“I don’t really want to do anything anymore. But this is what we WILL be doing.” Scootaloo started toward the door. “Do you mind watching the bridge for me? Before we start to the next site, I want to check on Trixie.”

“Of course, Captain.” She paused, and then smiled. “And…if I might say…It’s really kind what you do for her. It wouldn’t even occur to most ponies to go through that much trouble for a Core. Or for…one of my kind.”

“Both of you are part of my crew, and both of you deserve no less.”

Scootaloo left the bridge, the door hissing partially closed behind her before once again jamming. Like everything else on this ship, it barely worked. Scootaloo sighed, making a mental note that she would have to repair it. Then she continued down the long, stained hallway.

This ship- -technically called CN12-88B, but colloquially referred to as the RENS Failure- -was actually quite large, despite the size of its tiny bridge. When it had actually been modern close to ninety years earlier, it had been a freighter. From the smell of it, Scootaloo surmised that the last thing it had been carrying was tomatoes, and that more than a few of them had fermented beneath the deck plating. The ship was hideously non-aerodynamic, consisting of three identical decks filled with vacuous, empty cargo holds. Some of these had been retrofitted into crew quarters or storage and launching bays for the probes, but most were empty. That was actually critical; during the conversion of the old freighter into a naval ship, the decrepit engine module had been replaced with a modern one. The modern engine, however, was significantly smaller than a ship this size would normally require. It worked well with the cargo-holds empty- -which they always were- -even if handling on such a wide inertial load in tight corners was almost impossible.

The ship was only marginally habitable. As Scootaloo walked along the retrofitted gravity plating that lined the hallways, she heard the normally roaring ventilation system hitch and shut down. She paused, slamming her hoof against the wall where she knew the unusually large ducts were. The system clicked on for a moment, belching hot air from one of the dust-caked vents, and then coughed and died again.

“Crap,” said scootaloo. “Not again…”

Near her, one of the cargo bay doors was pulled open. A white Pegasus floated in from the dark room beyond, landing gracefully on the gravity plating. She checked a clipboard held under her wing, and then tucked it away.

“Blossomforth,” said Scootaloo, approaching the taller pony.

“Captain!” Blossomforth stiffened and saluted.

“Um…at ease, ensign.”

Blossomforth immediately shifted to an only mildly more comfortable position. Scootaloo had to look up to address her. Even though Blossomforth was only a few years older than Scootaloo, she was significantly taller. Looking at her was not exactly easy, and not only because Scootaloo had to look up. Despite having a coat color identical to Wintrygust’s, Blossomforth had garishly clashing green and pink hair and intense blue eyes. This combined with a white body- -a rarity among Pegasi- -made for quite a combination.

“Can you work on repairing the ventilation system?” asked Scootaloo.

Blossomforth blinked. Scootaloo could see the ever-present contempt in her expression grow. “I’m not a mechanic, Captain.”

“No, but we’re short staffed. I need Wintry on the bridge, and if I give this job to Sassa, it’ll never get done. That and I doubt she even knows how to work a toaster, let alone fix a duct motor.”

“I really think the breeder would be a better choice for this task.”

Scootaloo’s expression hardened. “I didn’t ask her to do this. I asked YOU. And her name is ‘Wintrygust’. I would recommend that you use it.”

“Y- -yes, Captain.”

The ventilation system suddenly clanged loudly, as though something large were moving through it. Scootaloo and Blossomforth watched the ceiling, following the sound with their eyes before it suddenly disappeared.

Blossomforth’s eyes were wide. “I swear to Celestia that we have a clingon,” she said, shaking her head.

“We can’t. This ship was stored in vacuum for thirty years. And fumigated. Twice.”

“Well, that clearly worked on the cockroaches.” She extended one of her wings. “I think they eat pieces of me while I’m sleeping…”

“I know it’s bad,” said Scootaloo. “I’ve put in a recommendation to get you promoted out, but…you know how it is.”

Blossmoforth’s eyes narrowed. “Of course you did. With all due respect, Captain, I don’t know how much your recommendation is actually worth.”

Scootaloo frowned. “Just fix the vents. And don’t be late for dinner. It’s Wintry’s turn to cook, and you know she’s the only one that makes anything edible. Unless you want Sassa and Heart to eat it all again.”

“Finally, a job actually suited for her,” mumbled Blossomforth as she passed Scootaloo.

Scootaloo ignored that last comment. It was no secret that Blossomforth did not like Wintrygust, and in a way, Scootaloo understood. Blossomforth was actually not a bad worker. Her conduct was always exemplary and her work was excellent. Even her record had no indications of anything amiss. Yet, somehow, she had never once been promoted above the most basic naval rank. That, and, somehow, she had been assigned to the Failure. Scootaloo was not sure why, but she understood why Blossomforth always seemed so angry. She was qualified to work on much more significant vessels at a much higher rank.

Still, interactions with Blossomforth often left Scootaloo in a foul mood. She tried to ignore it as she made her way to the technical level.

Below the levels of empty cargo rooms sat a region where, essentially, a large section of the ship had been cut out and a new one welded into place. This one contained the engine and the Core housing, both tightly packed tightly and hardwired into the ship’s systems by a number of messy cables and conduits.

The center of this area was crowded with machinery, but also with a number of unusual items. A narrow desk had been placed between the central gravity conversion breaker and the computational cooling stacks, and a bookshelf had been placed against an obsolete but still marginally functional power distribution relay. A patched but very comfortable chair sat between them in the center of what little space was left.

Scootaloo edged around the chair and the table, noticing that an old and dog-eared copy and old Daring Do book was sitting on the desk next to a rebuilt control consul displaying a blue-tinted holographic image of a landscape on Equestria Prime.

In the center of the room, as with most ship cores, there was a large tube in the center. Scootaloo stood up on her hind legs to access the manual controls. She pulled a large handle to draw back the blast-shield surrounding the hollow glass cylinder in the center of the tube. It rose slowly, revealing the pale yellowish fluid within and the thin blue unicorn floating within it, her spine and skull linked to the ship’s systems by long, snaking cables.

She appeared to be sleeping, but Scootaloo knew better than that. She was unconscious, yes, but not truly asleep. Carefully, Scootaloo activated the manual release. The liquid in the tube shifted suddenly, causing the pony’s short white mane to swirl with the sudden jets of bubbles. Within a few seconds, the liquid drained completely and the pony was lowered through the base of the apparatus onto a platform below.

Scootaloo approached her, putting a hoof on the pony’s shoulder.

“Trixie?” she said.

Trixie stirred, and looked up at Scootaloo. Her face was gaunt and her eyes cloudy, but she still smiled.

“Scootaloo,” she said, slowly rising to her feet and brushing off some of the rapidly drying amniotic fluid that still covered her. “Where…where are we?”

“Space,” said Scootaloo, simply. “We finished the last mission quicker than normal. I wanted to give you a chance to come out before we started off again.”

“Oh,” said Trixie, smiling. She stepped forward to where a towel was hanging near the housing, the cables that still penetrated her body and linked her to the ship trailing behind her. She picked up the towel and dried herself off. She used her magic to levitate it, but Scootaloo could still not help but notice how much she shook when she walked, or how horribly thin she was, or the thin trickles of blood from her eyes that she tried to hide.

“Trixie, are you okay?” asked Scootaloo.

Trixie grinned. “Why would the Great and Powerful Trixie be anything LESS than fine?” she said with characteristic bravado, rolling the ‘r’ in her name with some difficulty. “This new ship is certainly not up to my usual standards, but I would say that my extensive ability is far more than adequate to power it.”

Scootaloo smiled. “You’ve been doing great. I just wish the channeling systems were better. I know that’s hard on you.”

“Not at all! It is only a shame that this vessel cannot feel the full might of Trixie!” Trixie raised her hoof dramatically, but then clapped it over her mouth to suppress a cough.

“Trixie?”

“Trixie is…tired,” said Trixie after some consideration. “Yeah…I think I’ll read for a bit and then…I’ll go back to sleep…”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” said Scootaloo.

“I wish that were true.”

Scootaloo sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just…”

Trixie wrapped Scootaloo in a hug, and Scootaloo felt her breath catch when she realized just how weak Trixie had become. She also for a brief moment though she felt several droplets of something wet fall to her neck just above her uniform collar.

“It’s okay,” said Trixie. “It’s okay.” She released Scootaloo and limped to her chair.

“Do you want me to bring you any food?” asked Scootaloo. “Wintry is making dinner tonight, so you know it’ll be good.”

Trixie smiled. “Of course. The Great and Powerful Trixie cannot be expected to operate this ship without adequate sustenance.”

They both smiled, even if the charade ran hollow. Trixie had not been able to keep down solid food in months.

Scootaloo started to pull up a folding chair to sit with Trixie, as she did sometimes. They sometimes talked, but not always. Usually they would just be together, often while Trixie read. On the bad days, Trixie would sometimes have to ask Scootaloo to help her when the cataracts obscured her vision. On the very bad days, sometimes Scootaloo would have to read the books out loud.

Before she could even sit down, though, a static voice came through Scootaloo’s earpiece.

“Captain?” said Wintrygust. “It appears that Blossomforth has gotten stuck in a vent again. She is apparently panicking, claiming that she saw a clingon. Again. She’s really jammed in there. I could use your help on this.”

“You left Sassa alone on the bridge?”

“She appears to be in a state of profound rest. And with Trixie disconnected, it is unlikely she can break anything too badly.”

“Okay. I’ll be up there right away.” Scootaloo turned to Trixie. “Trixie, I’m sorry. I have to unstick Blossomforth again.”

“It’s okay. I’m more than capable of entertaining myself on my own.” Trixie smiled. “Besides. There are some things that the Great and Powerful Trixie does not feel comfortable doing with you watching.”

“Eew, gross!” laughed Scootaloo, returning her chair to its original location. “I’ll be down later if your still up, with the food. Take as much time as you need.”

“Hopefully it is peanut-butter crackers…”

Scootaloo smiled, and was not sure why her eyes were so full of tears. She wiped them away and walked through the narrow hallway out of the engine room. Near the door, however, Scootaloo realized that she was not alone. A yellow unicorn was waiting in the shadows.

“Dr. Heart,” said Scootaloo. The unicorn smiled and stepped from where she had been waiting. Technically speaking, Lemon Heart was not part of Scootaloo’s crew. Normally only earth ponies and Pegasi were part of the Equestrian navy, and Heart’s uniform signified that she was not actually an officer but a scientific operative associated with the company that made Cores.

“Captiain,” she said. “We need to talk.”

“Not now,” said Scootaloo, pushing past the unicorn scientist. She immediately felt herself being slowed, though, as Heart’s magic grabbed her shoulder.

“Scootaloo,” said Heart. “You can’t put this conversation off. “I’m a specialist in geriatric Cores- -”

“Trixie isn’t ‘geriatric’,” hissed Scootaloo, hoping that they were out of earshot from Trixie. She resented the fact that Heart had used Scootaloo’s visits to Trixie as an ambush. “She’s barely twenty four.”

“Which means that she’s been a Core for over two decades. Scootaloo, they aren’t meant to last that long. Especially not ones like her.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that her magical capacity is marginal at best. Had it not been for the surgery, she probably would have lived life as an unspectacular unicorn.”

Scootaloo shivered. Many ponies truly seemed to believe the propaganda that the Equestrian government provided, that Cores were not really ponies, that they were born as parts of a machine meant to exist as FTL engines. Even the few who knew the truth at least pretended to believe- -but not Lemon Heart. She accepted the fact that Cores were made from ordinary unicorns taken from their families as children without a hint of remorse or empathy. Scootaloo found this nonchalance deeply disturbing.

“She should have burnt out years ago,” said Heart. “But, admittedly, she is stubborn. And proud. But that’s not enough to keep her alive. Her power output is dropping.” She looked Scootaloo in the eyes and had the audacity to smile. “Scootaloo, we need to seriously consider euthanasia.”

“Don’t you dare even suggest that on my ship.”

Heart frowned. “Do you think I’m implying that we should murder her? Look at her.” She pointed, and Scootaloo looked back to where Trixie was trying her best to read far on the other side of the room. “She cannot even be disconnected from the machinery anymore. Those cables are the only thing keeping her alive, and even then, only barely. You may not accept it, and she’ll never show it, but she’s in agony. Every second she is conscious is torture. Even in the core, she’s going to feel the pain. It would be a kindness.”

“No,” said Scootaloo. “Never. She’s my friend.”

“She is a part of machine,” corrected Heart. “And she is going to burn out soon.”

Scootaloo looked up at the unicorn. “And the instant she starts to go, I want you to contact me. No matter what I’m doing. Because I will take her out, disconnect her, and let her go like the pony she is. Not like an animal, not like a piece of equipment, and not alone in a vat of fluid.”

Scootaloo expected Heart to resist the decision, but the unicorn just shrugged. “Okay. It’s your choice. Her pain does not actually bother me. In fact, it provides even better data. I just wanted to point it out.” She turned toward the door, but then paused before turning back to Scootaloo. “Just remember. Once she’s dead, she belongs to ME. I want her horn and her spine. I need them for my work.”

She giggled slightly at the thought, and then pranced out the door.

“Sick buck,” whispered Scootaloo.

“Captain,” said Wintrygust over the intercom. “She’s gotten her leg behind her head- -somehow- -I don’t even know how this is possible. Could you please see if we have any butter?”

“I’m on my way,” said Scootaloo. She paused for a moment to look back at Trixie, and then walked out the door, closing it behind her.

During the day, it was easy for Scootaloo to dismiss the notion that there was a clingon dwelling in the ventilation system of the Failure. At night, though, as she lay in bed, sometimes it was not so easy. In the dark of the parsed and repurposed cargo bay, sometimes she would awake to see what she thought were the reflections of blue eyes staring at her through the dirty vents, or she would swear she heard the sound of a distant giggling.

This night was no different, and in the dim light of the room, she found herself looking up at the vents, wondering just what exactly might have been living in them, and what this ship had seen in its lifetime. She wondered just how many Cores had lived and died on this ship, and if at any time they knew that they had spent their entire lives doing nothing but hauling tomatoes. These were things she often wondered while lying on her back in bed.

Then, suddenly, Scootaloo cried out. She gripped her mattress tightly as her body spasmed and her mind went blank. She knew that the walls were thin, and that the others probably could hear her, but she could not help herself.

After what felt like several minutes, Scootaloo finally relaxed and laid back down. She was sweating and breathing hard. She looked down as Wintrygust’s head peeked out from beneath the sheets, her hair a mess and a smile on her face. She wiped her mouth with one of her hooves and then set her cheek against Scootaloo’s stomach. Scootaloo reached around the back of her neck and hugged her like that.

“Damn,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “Just…damn.”

“Your welcome,” said Wintry.

“Where…oh Celestia…where did you learn to do that?”

“A great many of us are taught it as part of our standard education. Rainbow Dash always preferred stallions, though, so I suppose I’m just a natural.”

Scootaloo let her mind regain composure for a moment, and Wintry pulled herself forward until she was hugging Scootaloo’s chest. She was surprisingly muscular and fit, but her coat was soft and she smelled nice.

“I’m just…I’m sorry,” said Scootaloo. “I know it’s wrong, I shouldn’t be forcing you do to this. It’s just, the pills, they’re hardly doing anything for me anymore and I just can’t stop thinking about…this…”

Wintry pulled herself closer to Sctootaloo. “You’re not forcing me to do anything. You didn’t even order me. You don’t have to. I enjoy it as much as you do. Because I love you.”

“Aww, Wintry…”

“And I know the first few estrus cycles are especially powerful. The pills sometimes don’t help the younger mares. You need another pony to help you with it.”

“Was it bad for you? When you started your cycle?”

Wintry’s smile faded. “I…I didn’t…”

Scootaloo Cringed. “Oh, Wintry. I’m so sorry.”

“No, no. It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t okay. Not even a little. What Rainbow Dash did to you- -”

Wintry shook her head. “It wasn’t Rainbow Dash’s fault. Buyers generally don’t want intact breeders, and the company doesn’t want to sell potential breeding stock. It’s just something we do when we’re young. It was always harder for our brothers, but we got through it together.” She smiled with no hint of darkness. “Besides. Not having gone through puberty means I get to keep my fillyish figure. And I suppose I’ll never die of ovarian cancer.”

As far as Scootaloo could tell, Wintrygust did not actually seem to mind what had been done to her or what she was. That was supposedly something that had been bred into commercially produced Pegasi, and extreme docility bordering on passivity. It made Scootaloo sick, though, to know what had been done to her friend.

“I just…I have to be honest,” said Scootaloo, turning toward Wintry. “I know how you feel, but- -”

Wintry shifted, curling against Scootaloo’s chest. Even though she was larger, she felt light. “I know,” she said. “You don’t need to tell me. I love you. You gave me my name. But to you I am just a friend. Your heart lies with another. Perhaps more than one other. And it is better that way.” She moved even closer to Scootaloo. “I like to dream, though. Is that wrong?”

Scootaloo did not answer. Instead, she turned Wintry toward her. The larger pony allowed it, and the two of them started kissing. After several minutes, Scootaloo moved Wintry again, this time putting her belly-down against the bed and exposing her large, perfectly white wings.

“Scootaloo, no,” said Wintry. “You don’t have to do that, it’s not your job- -”

Scootaloo smiled mischievously. “As Captain of this ship, I simply cannot have my second-in-command having such messy wings! Present them for cleaning immediately! That’s an order!”

Wintry giggled. “Oh, well, if it’s an order from my Captain, how can I refuse?”

She spread her wings, and Scootaloo sank into them, gently taking each feather in her mouth and carefully preening them as Wintry tried so suppress her moaning below.

Then, suddenly, there was a resounding explosion on the far side of the room. The force was enough to send several items flying off of Scootaloo’s desk. Scootaloo herself turned around quickly to find herself facing a violet, translucent alicorn hologram.

Wintrygust turned too, and upon seeing the representation of the Princess of Friendship squeaked and hid herself beneith Scootaloo’s sheets.

“Ah,” said Twilight, her magical representation smiling. “There you are! Finally, the correct ship! You have no idea how many I tried. It’s weird, I can transport a representation of myself halfway across the galaxy. That’s easy. The problem is getting it to go to the right place…” She looked at the lump where Wintry was hiding. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“No, definitely not.” Scootaloo had meant the comment to be heavily sarcastic, but with Twilight Sparkle being Twilight Sparkle, she took it literally.

“Good. I need to talk to you.”

Scootaloo was about to tell her to leave, but somehow, that seemed less appropriate than letting her stay. Twilight was, after all, one of Equestria’s three goddesses. That, and Scootaloo actually considered her to be a friend of sorts.

“What is it?” said Scootaloo, trying to move the sheets around her to hide where Wintrygust was located.

“You…have something on your mouth.”

Scootaloo wiped her mouth with her hoof and found several white feathers stuck to it. She blushed heavily and spat them away.

Twilight smiled, as if she were completely oblivious to what Scootaloo had been doing. Technically, it had not been illegal because Wintry was farm-raised and not legally considered a real pony, but it was still highly embarrassing.

“I need your help,” said Twilight. “I just received word from my brother.”

“You mean Shining Armor? He actually contacted you?”

Twilight nodded. “Something is wrong. Proximity alarms have detected something approaching the Crystal Galaxy. Something large.”

Scootaloo shivered. She had already been aware of this fact. “Well, the Crystal Empire is more than capable of managing it.”

“True,” said Twilight. Her eyes shifted slightly. Even as a hologram, she was still easy to read. There was something she was not saying. “But he was deeply concerned. He asked me for help.”

“Then you should go help him,” said Wintry, poking her head out from beneath the sheets at the foot of the bed. “He is your brother after all.”

Scootaloo quickly shoved Wintry back beneath the blankets. Twilight did not seem to notice. Scootaloo realized that it was quite possible that the hologram she had sent was not actually capable of seeing. The technology that Twilight used was vastly different than any that had been developed elsewhere in Equestria; Scootaloo was not at all familiar with how it worked.

“That’s the problem,” said Twilight. “I’m sure you’re aware of Equestria’s current situation. What with the continual threat of the chaos wizards, the Carbanado-Canid rebellion, and general defense, we can’t spare the Harmony.” Twilight paused. “In fact, to be honest, we’re spread thin. Too thin. We don’t have any ships to spare. Not right now.”

“So, let me guess,” said Scootaloo, her mood darkening. “You want to send a ship that has no tactical significance?”

Twilight beamed. “Exactly!”

Scootaloo sighed. “So you, what exactly? This is just a survey ship. It doesn’t even have forward guns. That, and its captain isn’t exactly in good repute.”

“I would disagree,” said Twilight. “Five years ago, Rainbow Dash attempted to use my power to start a war. I was injured and unconscious, and she…she used me.” Twilight’s hologram shivered. “You saved hundreds of millions of alien lives, Scootaloo. And it…it hasn’t been the same with Rainbow.” Twilight looked Scootaloo in the eye. “There’s not a lot of ponies I can trust anymore. You are one of a very select few.”

Scootaloo was not sure what to say, although she was acutely aware of the irony of Twilight’s statement. Twilight was a Core, the same type of pony as Trixie- -except that while the countless thousands of other Cores remained unconscious during their vastly shortened lifespans, Twilight remained awake and in control of the Harmony and would continue to do so throughout her immortal lifetime. Scootaloo would have gotten up and left the room right then and there if she had not already been aware that Twilight was equally if not more so aware of the same irony.

“I just want you to check it out, in the spirit of friendship between our peoples. It’s important diplomatically, and, well, if Shining Armor is right I need eyes on whatever it is that he’s detecting. Whatever it is, it’s moving quickly, and there’s not much time- -”

“No.”

“- -Until it reaches- -wait a second,” Twilight sputtered. “What did you just say?”

“I said no,” said Scootaloo. “I’m just a survey pony. I hate saying no to you, Twilight. Not just because you’re my Princess but because you’re my friend. But I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not the Fleet Commander. You’re not even in the naval hierarchy. I can’t go against Rainbow Dash. Not again. I’m already hanging by a thread. If I push her on this…”

“You’ll lose your command.”

Scootaloo nodded, even though that was not the case. She had never wanted to be a captain in the Equestrian navy; she had never even wanted to join. Those had been Rainbow Dash’s doing. The command meant nothing to her- -but if she was forced out, they would take Trixie away from her.

Twilight sighed- -an unusual sight for a system created entirely out of plates of magic- -and looked up at Scootaloo. “Then you give me no choice. I’m expediting Tertiary Commander Lightning Dust’s court-martial request.”

Wintrygust sat completely upright, her red-dyed hair splaying out around her as she emerged from her hiding place. “You- -you can’t! You can’t do that!”

“I just did,” said Twilight. “Scootaloo, you are found guilty of mutiny, making of threats against superior officers, and subverting the chain of command. By the authorization of the Royal Equestrian Navy, you are hereby stripped of all rank, title, and rights as a naval officer. All commissions and Naval property will be confesnscated immediately.”

“I see,” said Scootaloo quietly.

“Scootaloo,” said Wintry. “She can’t- -there is an appeals process, we can- -”

“Appeal has been denied. Parole has been denied. I have done all the paperwork, Scootaloo. You are no longer a member of the Equestrian navy.”

Scootaloo stared for a moment at her former friend, and then took a long look at Wintry. Then, slowly, she got out of bed. She instinctively reached for her uniform, but then pulled her hoof away. She wiped her eyes with her hoof, and then turned back to Twilight.

“I’ll go without a fight,” she said. “Send the shuttle to pick me up as soon as you can. I can’t…I can’t be here anymore. Just, please, just let me say goodbye to Trixie.”

“I’m not finished,” said Twilight.

“What else is there?” snapped Scootaloo.

“By my authority as a Divine Princess of Equestria, I hereby reconstitute you as a Priestess of the Cult of Harmony.” Wintrygust gasped, and Scootaloo looked back at Twilight, who was smiling. “This decision is effective immediately. You are no longer bound by normal Equestrian law, and your life will be dedicated toward serving in the name of Harmony until you either renounce your faith or, well, die.”

“Can you…can you do that?” asked Wintrygust.

“I’m a Princess,” laughed Twilight. “I can do whatever I want.” She looked down at Scootaloo. “But I am serious. Deadly serious. You report to me now, and only me. No Fleet Commander, no navy.”

“You’re kidding,” said Scootaloo.

“Of course not,” said Twilight. “I’m even having a new Priestess uniform sent to you. It should be really nice, Rarity designed it personally. I haven’t really had a chance to use them yet. You’re my first Priestess, after all.”

“What?”

“I’ve already filled out the paperwork to this ship’s crew to serve you. I actually did it while we were talking. Filled, initialed, and sent. Oh, and I’m sending out a new ship- -”

“No,” said Scootaloo. “I’m taking this ship.”

Twilight blinked, confused. “Seriously?”

“Trixie can’t survive another transfer. And I’m not leaving her behind.”

“Scootaloo, I know you have an affection for her, but she’s nearly gone.”

“I’m NOT leaving her. She’s my friend. What kind of Priestess would I be if I did that to a friend?”

Twilight smiled broadly. “So…you accept?”

“I can’t really not accept,” said Scootaloo. “You did just court-martial me. Do you know how pissed Rainbow Dash is going to be?”

“Not very. That would require her to be sober. And she hasn’t really been since you were demoted.”

“Consider it provisional, though,” said Scootaloo. “We’ll see how this goes, first. Alright?”

“It should go perfectly,” said Twilight. “Oh, I’m so excited! An actual Priestess!”

Wintrygust smiled and clapped.

“You will need to send somepony to get Lemon Heart, though,” noted Scootaloo. “She’s not part of my crew, and I don’t think she’s going to take kindly to having her research interrupted.”

“No,” said Twilight, suddenly serious. “You need to take Lemon Heart with you.”

“What? Why?”

“No reason,” said Twilight, clearly lying. “I mean…if you’re taking Trixie as your Core, you need somepony who can take care of her. And despite her…inclinations…Dr. Heart is a leader in her field. If anyone can keep Trixie going, it’s her.”

“It’s going to take some time to prepare,” said Wintrygust. “From a logistical standpoint, this isn’t going to be easy.”

“My recent upgrade has given me greater teleportation range,” said Twilight. “I’m encoding your central computer to access mine. My brother has already given me the necessary authority to move you to the Crystal Galaxy. When you’re ready, let me know. But do hurry, if you can.”

“Yes,” said Scootaloo. “Um…Princess?”

“Princess if fine,” said Twilight, “but you can also address me as ‘Goddess’. Or just ‘Twilight’ is fine.”

“Yes, Princess,” said Scootaloo, saluting.

“Excellent. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a lot to do today. Most of it involves blowing chaos wizards out of orbit. You know, spreading friendship across the galaxy. But we will be in touch.”

Twilight waved, and with a loud implosion her hologram vanished, leaving Wintry and Scootaloo alone once again.