The disillusionment overshadowed Dash's enthusiasm after hearing the truth from Ferrin as she vacantly stared towards a large map of Equestria displayed on the wall of the flight deck briefing room.

"Are you okay?" Ferrin asked with genuine concern.

She kept her eyes on the map. "Why do you care?"

He took an enduring breath and leaned against one of the metal foldout chairs that filled the room. "You know, since I'm your acting wing commander until we get to Sirius-68, it wouldn't kill you to have a little more respect."

She finally tore herself away from the map, seating herself on one of the chairs and adjusting herself as the metal felt uncomfortably cold.

"Alright, look," Ferrin started, seating himself next to her, "I'm sorry you had to find out like this. But I assure you Celestia didn't have malicious intentions when assigning you here, you know her better than that. You're gonna be a part of something that-..."

Dash cut him off: "I don't mind playing a part in experimental warfare if it means ensuring the safety and security of Equestria, alright?"

Ferrin was puzzled by the exclamation, scoffing in contempt. "Then what's with the attitude?"

She looked at him dead in the eye before answering. "I don't like being deluded like a mindless sheep. I'm nopony's pawn."

Ferrin nodded with a shrug. "Well, that's all well and good, but now you're here. We're both here and now we both have to take shit from Naval brass. And since they chose me to temporarily lead this lab squad, you'll be taking my shit as well. Now's the time to buck up and take it like a real Battlewings pilot. If you don't like it, the docking sleeve is still there. But don't forget how rare this opportunity is. Lots of people would kill to be in your place. Besides, you wouldn't want to disappoint Celestia, would you?"

Dash sighed in contempt. "I guess not."

"Don't be foolish, Dash. I know you have what it takes. We just need to do some refinements... and work on that hot head of yours."

She eyed him darkly.

"I want to get something straight before the briefing starts." He paused for a moment, his eyes downcast as he mentally prepared for the seriousness of what he was about to say. "There's a chance we may be out here for a long time. I'm not sure if you're familiar with the principles of time dilation, the theory of relativity..." He trailed off with an inquisitive delay.

Dash was like a deer caught in the headlights. "Time... what?"

Ferrin nodded. "That's what I thought. Okay, basically what I'm saying is that time works a lot differently in space. You'll notice extra clocks supplemental to the Equestrian region ones throughout the ship. You see, depending on where we are in the galaxy, an hour could be the equivalent of a whole decade back home."

"But doesn't FTL travel defeat that issue?"

"Sometimes. Not always. I mean, sure, at least some of the required mods could be done to our ships in 48 hours, but it's basic politics. I heard through some of my friends with connections to REQ-NORTHCOM that the timeframe was only suggested to ensure the proposal went through. The reality is that it could take weeks, maybe months to adequately prep our spacecraft for these new weapon systems. Not to mention training new pilots. It takes time, and that means more time Equestria is left defenseless. See what I'm getting at?"

Rainbow nodded in understanding, though her uncertainty was still noticeable as she digested the facts being presented to her.

"I don't mean to add more to your plate, but you deserve to know all the facts. Better you learn them now before Jones has you running for the airlocks with his method of conveying things."

She managed a smirk.

"Look, there's still the GALCOM-NET. The galaxy is filled with hidden networks being bounced around, data streams almost everywhere... you can stay up to date with your friends back home while you're away. Keep up on the CRAI situation. That is, in between dead zones."

"Yeah," She agreed, "I guess you're right."

Ferrin looked at his watch. "Jones should be here any minute now."

"What should I expect from this briefing? Is he gonna tell us about the CRAI fighters, or how to use these new systems?"

"No, that comes later. Basically, he's gonna tell you everything I just told you, just with a little more... assertiveness. Mostly to weed out the chickenshits that are better off on civie security duty. Just relax, you'll make it."

Lieutenant Commander Jones checked his paperwork as he headed for the flight deck, traversing a particularly busy corridor filled with crew moving to various places. He focused on dossiers regarding some of the new pilots, smirking as he imagined the duration of their service on board the 125th vessel, especially considering his manner of authority. He began clenching on a cigar between his teeth like a no-nonsense admiral.

Jones had been an Officer of the deck (OOD) of the Dreadnaught since he was First Lieutenant, just before it was decommissioned. Until now he saw temporary duty as XO of the Akira-class battleship RES Virtroso, a duty he anxiously awaited transfer away from as he preferred the command of space wings and marine squads aboard carrier starships.

"Deck Officer Jones?" A voice called from behind, which Jones identified as First Lieutenant Higashi as the lean Japanese officer jogged to his side.

"I do have a rank, Lieutenant," Jones grunted to the ship's Warrant Officer (WO), his voice gravelly and accentuating of his African-American ethnicity. He gave Higashi ease as the newly-appointed officer must have been mingling with the regular personnel who mockingly referred to the typically irritable OOD as "Deck Officer Jones." It was bad enough that him and Gregory clashed in ideals to the point of the latter also calling him by that name on occasion.

Higashi shook his head apologetically. "Oh, sorry, sorry... Lieutenant Commander Jones."

"What do you need, Lieutenant?"

"I can't figure out the VI interface-..."

"It's the most comprehensive of any REN vessel, Higashi, what can't you figure out?" Jones chomped on the cigar with his posture taut to intimidate the fresh WO.

"Yes, well, I was looking for the flight deck briefing room."

"Ah, you're in luck. I'm heading that way. What business do you have there?"

"Well, you see-..."

"Aren't you needed on the bridge?"

"Actually, I was assigned to the Combat Information Center on the flight deck. Captain Mead requested my presence at the briefing, that's all I know."

"Alright then, I'm sure we'll find an extra seat for you."

"Excuse me, excuse me! Coming through! Payload containment breach imminent!" Chief Engineer Alessi rushed through the crowds of personnel with a look of panic as he passed by the two officers. "Merda, merda, merda, merda, merda..." He disappeared behind a bend in the corridor ahead.

Higashi pointed awkwardly ahead. "Who was that?"

"Chief Engineer Alessi. He's a little... erratic, but you'll get used to him."

"I'm telling you, these seals are going to wear off!" Onyx maintained to the unicorn Machinist that fabricated containment welds on a duct leading to the Light Drive main reactor.

"Sir," He replied patiently to the ETO, "That's impossible below 400 Celsius. That's well above levels when emergency venting."

"This duct goes to the heat exchanger on the FTL reactor core, not the vacuum drive reactors! Do you have any idea the levels of heat and pressure that's going to pass through there? It's way fucking hotter than 400 degrees! We're talking red zone! We might as well be passing magma through there!"

"I'm just following orders, okay?"

"Whose orders?"

"Chief Engineer Alessi! He just messaged me on my PDA a few minutes ago."

Onyx looked at him quizzically. "Alessi ordered these seals?"

"Yes! Can I get back to work now?"

Onyx waved him off to continue his duty, pondering why his usually competent superior would order such a weak containment seal.

"Greetings, my slaves!" A familiar voice echoed nearby.

Speak of the space kraken himself.

Alessi slid down a ladderway to the catwalk near the primary engine control center where Onyx was at, with newfound vigor in his stride as his load was now lifted. He looked around and threw his hands up. "Well, nobody welcome me back all at once."

The ETO confronted him: "Alessi, did you order those seals on the heat exchanger?"

Alessi looked towards the ducting connected to the reactor core. "No..." He suddenly bolted to the unicorn welding the duct. "Whoa, hey, wait a minute!"

The Machinist ceased his activity, turning to the approaching Chief Engineer. "What?"

"I told you to seal off the vacuum drive core, not the Light Drive! I was going to apply those welds myself!"

"But your message said-..."

"Go! Va via! Do your fucking job!"

"Yes, sir." The unicorn climbed down from his maintenance platform and headed to the ducts near the vacuum drive reactors.

"Oy, Mio dio sopra, it's so hard to find good engineers nowadays!" He turned to Onyx. "Come, let's get some coffee."

The briefing went better than Rainbow expected. She joined her fellow pilots as they exited the briefing room, remembering everything that Jones had said was a subject that Ferrin had tackled beforehand, just as he said. She was thankful for the preparation as everyone else succumbed to the coarse course nature of the ship's deck officer.

One of the earth pony security pilots had folded completely, though, handing in his transfer papers requesting his reinstatement to security service. Apparently he was reluctant about the idea of his loved ones back home aging faster than him, especially paranoid about his wife's prolonged loneliness during that time. That was enough to make the lot of them paranoid.

As soon as the frightened pony left the flight deck and proceeded to the docking sleeve, many hatchways and doors began sealing.

"All hands, make preparations for getting underway." Gregory's voice was loud and clear over the ship's communication system.

Ferrin emerged from the crowd and gestured for her to follow him. "We need to get to our quarters."

As she accompanied him down one of the corridors, she looked out the viewports that passed by. She could see the docking sleeve retracting into the station drydock, with several maintenance vehicles heading away from the Dreadnaught.

"Docking sleeve retracted," Gregory informed.

"Good," Mead replied to his XO, standing next to him near the center support structure, "McKelvy, did you run a diagnostics check on the nav systems yet?"

McKelvy leaned against his mapper with a smile. "I ran it three times already. Everything is functioning normally."

"Alright. Well, if anything gets screwy just replace the OS canisters with fresh drives and reboot the system. Don't bother with the memory until we're at Fort Arsenberg."

"Aye, Captain. Although, the replacement drives are well over two decades old."

"I suppose we'll get some replacements when we dock."

"Implying the format hasn't changed after all these years."

Gregory edged closer to Mead and muttered to him discreetly: "No one thought to replace our drive stock with updated canisters?"

Mead shrugged with a sigh, "She's been sitting decommissioned in a drydock for twenty years, what do you expect? I was busy trying to get her back into commission."

"Fair enough."

"Now... station the maneuvering watch, please."

Gregory punched a button to the open comm system. "All hands, man your stations. Report readiness."

A readiness indicator was located on a control panel ahead of them, with labels printed next to color-coded diodes to indicate the readiness level of each labeled section of the ship. Currently the lights were red, but were slowly turning green one-by-one, with the superior personnel of each section confirming their readiness on the intercom.

Engine room: "Engine room manned and ready."

Flight deck: "Tower receiving, standing by."

Missile bay, starboard: "Starboard missile room manned and ready."

Missile bay, port: "Port-side missile room manned and ready."

Missile bay, bow: "Forward missile room manned and ready!"

Missile bay, stern: "Aft missile bay awaiting command."

Battery control: "Auxiliary battery compartments manned and ready."

Medical bay / science station: "Life-sciences standing by."

Conn (McKelvy): "Navigation online and standing by."

Conn (Lowther): "Helm manned and ready, Captain."

Gregory turned to the captain. "Sir, all stations are manned and ready. Maneuvering watch set."

"Very well," Mead responded, "Release captive restraints."

Koroma headed for a console, opening a channel to the station STC. "Gateway, this is Dreadnaught, we're ready to get underway. Please retract umbilical and all docking latches."

"Roger, Dreadnaught," The STC acknowledged, "Removing docking restraints."

Closed-circuit TV monitors captured the action of the massive umbilicus retracting away from the ship's surface, smoke spewing from pressurized sources and sending vibrations through the supercarrier's hull. Other docking latches popped away from the ship's surface in a blur, rendering the spacecraft free to move about the zero-G maintenance bay.

"Umbilicus retracted," The STC reported, "All docking latches are now clear."

"Sir, the ship is clear of restraints and maintenance traffic," Koroma relayed to the captain, "She's ready to get underway."

"Prepare for launch," Mead ordered.

"Aye, sir!" Gregory's motivation was sincere in his excitement for the ship to be spaceworthy again, as was Mead's. "All hands, prepare for launch!"

Mead turned to Lowther at the helm. "Main engines engage, forty-six power!"

"Aye, Skip," Lowther acknowledged, "Main engines forty-six impulse."

Onyx flipped control relays to the on position on his console, allowing Conn control to the vacuum drive. "Main engines at full start! Forty-six power input!"

Alessi monitored the main drive on a viewscreen at his own console. "Capito! All engines responding! Starting ignition sequence!" He turned dials, activating the rearward boosters.

The massive turbines that generated energy for the vacuum drive reactors whined to life, generating thrust for the engines. Onyx and Alessi both hoped that the maintenance job done to the powerplant would hold, for both the launch and FTL travel.

"Conn," Alessi hailed the bridge, "Engine room, we're at standard impulse power!"

"Engine room, Conn," Lowther responded, "Confirming green lights on my board."

Alessi pumped his fist in the air victoriously.

"Sir," Lowther shouted to the captain, "Engines are hot and standing by!"

Mead took a moment to realize what he was about to order. For twenty years his ship had been in the Almahni shipyards, and now his dream of commanding his prized supervessel again had finally come true. As of this moment, it was ready to be among the stars again, where she was meant to be. Where he was meant to be, with her, as well as his fellow crew. It was time to further cement this dream into a reality. "Launch!"

"Aye, Captain." Lowther eased forward on the manual helm controls, expertly guiding the ship on its journey out of the drydock.

"All ahead standard, mind your rudder."

"All ahead standard, aye."

The exit to the drydock was approaching at a snail's pace from their perspective, despite traveling at a standard departing speed of fifty knots. The desire to be out amidst those gleaming specks of light tested their patience immensely.

"Decrease thrust at eighty-two meters and increase vacuum drive impulse power on my command."

"Aye."

After what felt like ages, the mighty RES Dreadnaught finally emerged from the drydock exit, now officially back in REN duty as she drifted for the void ahead. Elation washed over the crew when the brilliance of the Horsehead Nebula engulfed their view out of the main viewport, as well as the New Solar Sun despite the smart polyglass filtering its ultraviolet intensity.

Mead recalled how Equestrians described the beauty of the purple glow that the nebula cast over the planet's night sky. It was nothing compared to experiencing it out in space itself with unsurpassed clarity.

"RES Dreadnaught," Gateway's STC hailed, "You're clear from Drydock 89. Have a nice flight."

"Thank you, Gateway," Mead personally responded, "Dreadnaught signing off." He turned to Lowther. "Make your heading zero-one for the Westwind Quasar at 500 knots."

"Aye," Lowther acknowledged, typing commands into his console, "Laying course into the nav-computer. Speed, 500 knots."

Mead reached out to the support structure, touching an intimate hand to the cold mechanical surface with pride. "Welcome back to the stars, my dear. Hope that twenty-year slumber did you well."