//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: The Equestrian Starliner // by computerneek //------------------------------// She awakens quickly this time, with no buzzer involved.  After a small yawn, she rolls over and pushes herself partially upright before freezing still.  Her eyes grow wide at the same time, her tail lying calmly on the bed. She could swear she didn’t have a tail last night. She slowly turns her head to look.  A semi-tangled mass of golden hair greets her.  If brushed, it would probably look really nice. She turns her head further, looking at her own back.  She couldn’t do that before, either. It’s blue.  Sky blue- with matching wings folded at her sides. “Wha…  What happened to me?”  At least her voice didn’t change. The answer is immediate.  “Physical transformation coincides with mental adaptation to energies residual in the hull of this vessel from testing cycles.  No harmful effects noted; multiple beneficial effects observed. Simulations suggest the addition of multiple new abilities.” Groan, as she turns back forwards to make sure she still has hands…  and finds she doesn’t. It looks like a hoof of some sort.  “So… What am I?” “Unknown.  Observed visual similarity to a pegasus; no equine or avian genes detected.” Blink.  “So…” “Closest genetic match is human, at forty-eight percent.” She lets out a sigh.  “So, I’m a pegasus with odd colors…  How am I going to run a ship like this?” “Simulations suggest the retention of full gripping capability, through metaphysical means, at the hooves; gee tolerance increase on the order of eighty percent; subsonic flight capability with the wings; possibility to retain normal walking ability in zero gravity.” Blink.  “Won’t the crew laugh at me?” “All crew currently aboard are experiencing similar transformations.  All crew not currently aboard are expected to experience transformation immediately following arrival.” “Uh…  Can we hide the transformation effect from anyone outside the ship, or is it too late?” “Affirmative.  Confirm directive:  Conceal transformation effect from outside?” “Uh, confirm.” “Orders confirmed.  Departure of exposed personnel will be disallowed; non-crew will be warned of this restriction prior to arrival.” “Huh?  How will you do that?” “Unknown Energy One does not penetrate matter with significant speed.  Transformation effect has begun at debarkation from small craft on all present crew, yourself included; residual energy on the skin of visiting craft will decay completely prior to craft landing at another location, preventing transformation effect.  Communications out will be altered to disguise transformation; any crew placing or receiving calls will be notified of this restriction and required not to disclose any information.” Blink.  “What if they use an independent system?” “This vessel is armored; independent systems do not possess the signal strength to penetrate this vessel’s passive shielding.  All internal signals must be relayed through the ship transponder to reach external receivers, and vice versa; alteration of visuals will be performed at this stage.” “What if they transmit from one of the small craft?” “Small craft transmitters are not strong enough to penetrate this vessel’s passive shielding either.  Should any crew travel beyond the limits of this vessel to participate in an exercise and attempt transmission during the exercise, transmission will either be blocked or altered prior to transmission.” “Huh?  You have that kind of access?” “This vessel is equipped with a powerful Electronic Warfare suite.  There is no known software or device capable of preventing access; all known encryptions have been penetrated.” “...  Oh. Um…  So, I’m, what, quadrupedal now?” “Affirmative.” “Right.  Um…” She scans herself.  “Where’s the nearest mirror?” “A full body mirror can be found in your dressing room.” “Dressing room?” “The door on the right.” She looks up, scanning the room.  Three doors- one, right in the middle of the wall facing the bed.  If she remembers correctly, that’s the one she arrived through. Then, just off the corner on each of the side walls, another door.  She lifts an arm- er, hoof- to point at it. “That one?” “Affirmative.” “Okay.  Um…” She looks down the edge of the bed, then slips her way off.  She lets out a little bit of a yelp as she tumbles to the floor, then rights herself, standing up on all four limbs. Then she blinks.  “Huh… This does feel natural.  Now then, mirror.”  She walks carefully around the bed, towards the bathroom.  As it turns out, if she thinks about it like she’s walking on her hands and knees, it works, somewhat.  She experiments on a few different ways to walk on the way; a couple of them drop her on the floor, and one of them feels more natural.  When she looks back at it, it even looks more natural.  To her. The powered door on the dressing room slides smoothly open for her as she reaches it, and it takes her about thirty seconds to locate and walk in front of the mirror. She spends some time staring at her reflection.  The wings are there; so are the hooves. She does look vaguely equine in shape, but her eyes are way too large.  Her hair- mane- is moderately tangled, like any other bed hair. “Pony,” she eventually states.  “I’m a pony.” “Confirm form designation:  Pony.” She blinks.  “Uh, confirm.  Um, can you help me brush, or no?” “This vessel is not equipped with grooming assistance hardware.  Would you like to submit a fabrication request?” “Uh, no.  I’ll see what I can do on my own first.”  She fumbles for her brush- and shortly finds the ship’s claim about her gripping capability to be accurate.  She finds it amusing how the brush simply sticks to her otherwise smooth hoof. Take that, science! …  Though, her ship had predicted that behavior, despite calling whatever energy makes it possible ‘Unknown Energy One’... A chime sounds while she’s in the shower, trying to figure out how to shampoo thoroughly.  She glances up. “What is it?” The answer comes back immediately.  “There is a call for you; no ID, sourced from Hermes Station with Fleet scramble.” Blink.  “Can you handle it?” Pause.  She tilts her head; hadn’t it been instant before? “Affirmative.” “Ok.  Uh, lemme know if you need me.” “Would you like to listen to the call?” “Uh, sure.  Probably a good idea.” “Confirmed.  Accepting call now.”  A momentary tone chimes, and the tone of the voice changes slightly, as if the speaker were facing the other way.  “Captain Matthews is bu-” Another voice cuts it off- male, and irritated.  “I will speak only with the Captain. Get her on the line.” “Please hold.” She blinks, and sighs.  “I suppose I’ll have to, won’t I?” “Negative.  This vessel can synthesize the required datastream.” Blink.  “Nice. But I definitely want to listen.” “Affirmative.  Releasing hold with simulated crew in thirty seconds.” “Simulated?” “Simulation includes all crew currently aboard, without Unknown Energy One.  Simulated Commander Matthews is suspending a tactical exercise to answer the call.” She lets out a snort of laughter.  True, had she not been so tired after coming aboard, she might have spent much of her time with exercises.  Of course, that would likely change upon arrival of her crew, but… A tone indicates the hold release- then her own voice sounds from the walls, again sounding as if she were facing the other way.  “This is Commander Matthews of the Sta-!” He interrupts again.  “You’re there? Good. Do you know who I am?” Her voice becomes stern.  “Does it matter?” He lets out a derisive laugh.  “Well of course! I’m only your chief engineer.” She raises an eyebrow.  “Oh?” The voice from the wall is of the same mind.  “Oh? I was not aware Command assigned any to this vessel.” “Hah!  They did!  Five minutes ago!  But your exec held the flight!” Her voice floats back, sounding like it’s around a corner now.  “Chief Ta’leer?” A strange voice comes now, vague.  “Uh… Yes, Ma’am, he’s right. Lieutenant Commander Chaftan.” Her voice again, back to just facing the other way.  “Why did he hold the flight, and for how long?” “I don’t know!  His hold releases in ten minutes- but I want aboard now!” She drops her jaw. The simulation seems to be of the same opinion.  The voice has grown cold and sharp, turning the corner again.  “Is this call recorded?” As it does so, she mutters gently into the bathroom air.  “I don’t want him.” The answer comes back, unfamiliar.  “Yes Ma’am.” “Good.”  Back to just facing away.  “You are hereby relieved of your-!” He interrupts.  “You dare!” “-your post and forbidden to board-” “You dare do that to me!” “-to board this vessel.” Seething silence holds for two seconds, before he speaks up again, low and furious.  “I’m gonna kill you for that,” he states. “And I’m gonna be the engineer on that ship anyways.” The ship’s voice comes next, low and gentle- clearly not part of the call.  “Permission to issue a threat of deadly force?” She nods.  “Granted.” Her voice comes next, from around the corner again.  “How many Marines do we have aboard?” A second later, Chief Ta’leer’s voice comes again.  “Seven, including the Major.” The engineer’s voice comes back.  “None of them will hurt me. You know that.” Her voice again- sounds like a different corner.  “How is the internal defense grid?” Another unfamiliar voice.  “All systems nominal, and on automatic control.” Her voice again.  “Athena?” The ship’s voice comes on- but she hears it in two places:  The odd around-the-corner sound from the call, and the regular one from right next to her, speaking softly…  and omitting the first word. “Confirm authorization for internal weapons fire against Lieutenant Commander Chaftan?” She grins evilly.  “Yes please.” On a moment’s delay, her voice on the call responds.  “Confirmed.” “Orders confirmed.” A momentary tone.  “Call disconnected by remote host.  Simulation will continue for one hour, in case of redial.  Simulation would like to request submission of call recording to Space Police- confirm?” She blinks.  “Uh, confirm.  How good is this simulation?” “Simulation includes physical states of all crew and associated spaces; neural processes and private thoughts also simulated based on past sensor readings.” “So…” “Simulation accuracy is estimated at ninety-nine point nine three percent.” “So, really good.” “Affirmative.” “Um, does it suggest anything for shampoo?” “Negative.  Other simulations suggest use of the wing muscles may enhance reachability of the sides.  Additionally, simulations suggest shampoo and conditioner are superfluous for your new form.” She blinks a couple times; she’d been trying to stuff her hoof underneath the folded wing.  “Right.”