Pilot Lance Wing tapped the control panel in front of him one last time before sighing. “It’s real, we are no longer on the shipping lane; something pushed us off.”

He turned to Fry, the docking pilot that had awoken him from cryo moments ago. She was stretching her limbs while toggling different knobs and keys with her magic. “Debris? Look at this.” She pointed to a screen that showed electromagnetic frequencies. “I think we went through a meteor shower.”

He rubbed the back of his head then shook himself. “We’re venting air! The hull is breached!” He swore and floated over to the com unit at the back of the room. He strapped himself into the harness and tried to contact the captain. “I’ve got nothing here!”

“Running a diagnostic.” Fry tapped her hooves against the side of one of the old computers in frustration. “It says that the forward control station is gone!”

The two looked at each other in realization. They both scampered over to the closet and started to put on their protective gear. The light brown suit clashed against the indigo blue of her fur. “Get to the secondary command unit ASAP, I’ll holler for help.”

Fry pushed off with her hooves, heading for the harness at the far end of the room when she deviated and hit the floor. “Gravity?” He heard her and paused on his was to the comms. He looked at a nearby screen. “Zero point three times Equestrian gravity: we’re entering an orbit! Get eyes out there!”

He used his wings to speed up. He reached the computer that controlled the entire communication array just as she arrived at the piloting post. “Opening exterior shields.” The wall in front of her split in half and pulled apart, revealing the powerful light of a sun that lit up the shadowed room. Fry held a hoof to her face while she tapped in various commands. “UV shields up.” She sighed and looked out once more, this time the world was clear. There were three planets within their view and they were heading right for one. Fry turned to Lance Wing. “Off-course by how much again?”

“One sec.” he tapped a command into the console. “Almost six degrees, why?”

 “Get that rescue message out now; were about to crash land.” At this, Lance edged above the stack of electronics and stared at the great orange planet that was approaching quickly.

“Huh.” Lacking words he jammed his hooves into the machinery and quickly entered the appropriate codes. “This is transport ship Hunter-Gretzel, we are inbound to point Five-Zero-One, our ship has been driven off-course, our captain is MIA. We are requesting immediate help. I repeat, we request immediate help!”

“Opening air brakes, we’re about to hit atmo!” Fry grabbed a series of levers and shut them all down, clanking could be heard throughout the hull. The view port in front of her was now filled with planet; it was all that she could see. The orange and brown world of swirling clouds was growing larger by the second.

Suddenly the entire ship rocked as her view port filled with flames caused by the ship’s nose burning up.

“This is transport and cargo ship Hunter-Gretzel, we are inbound to point Five-Zero-One; we have forty civilian passengers on board. Our ship has been driven off course, our captain is MIA. We are requesting immediate help!” Lance’s voice filled with panic when one of the lights on his dash flashed red.

 “We lost comm! How’d we lose comm?” Fry had an answer for him when she saw the lumbering antenna at the front of the ship bend itself backwards and rip apart in the heat of the oncoming atmosphere.

Suddenly the rocking stopped and was replaced by an eerie silence. “We are through. Applying all air brakes, I’ll try to steer this baby into a nice landing!”

Fry pulled on the levers that activated the air brakes with her magic. As each brake opened the ship received a noticeable decrease in speed. “We might make it!”

“Come on Fry, slow her down!”

“Trying!”

The ship suddenly lurched as the nose rose up above its tail end. “No, no, no, no, no: can’t have this!” Fry swore as the ship gained more speed: upside-down the brakes were completely useless. She looked around for a solution, when her eye caught the “jettison cargo” controls. She smirked before stabbing at the buttons above her head. The ship shook violently when the rear section ripped off and twisted away. “Almost, come on baby; you can do it.” Fry petted the dashboard of the ship affectionately.

“Did you jettison our cargo?”

“Can’t sell it if we’re dead!”

“Point taken, just don’t eject section eight.”

Fry jabbed at the controls once more, and again the ship righted itself as it lost weight at the back. “Just one more. We’re in section seven, we should be fine as long as the wall holds!”

“No, don’t! That compartment holds the passengers!” Lance Wing yelled as he was tossed violently in his seat. “For Celestia’s sake, don’t.”

Fry considered his words for a few seconds before looking out her window and seeing the ground quickly approaching. “Sorry Lance,” She said gravely before lifting the tab and pressing the button.

Nothing happened.

“As senior officer of this ship I remove your ability to use any of its systems.” Lance Wing stared her down while entering his command code into the mainframe.

“What the hay Lance! This isn’t the time for an ethical debate! Release the capsule!”

“I am sorry.” The ship rent as it hit the ground in a resounding crash.

Big thanks for the folks over at BROHOOF for their help and inspiration to write and to TheWattsMan for the epic editing.