Blue Venture waved cheerfully at the sky-blue pegasus on the dock as the Radiant slipped out of her berth in the Cloudsdale skydocks.
“You know, Venture…” Captain Tandem chuckled beside her. “In the five times you’ve been on my ship, this is the first time I think I’ve ever seen you smile when that lanky flygirl of yours isn’t with you.”
“Lune is not lanky!” Blue huffed, though she did it with a smile. “She’s just tall!”
“Everypony’s tall to you, Venture.”
“That’s beside the point!”
Captain Tandem slapped Blue on the back with one of his enormous brown wings and laughed. Blue almost took a tumble onto the deck of the Radiant, but managed to keep her hooves under her. She gave the captain a baleful glare, but only mischief shone in his orange eyes.
“She’s been good for you, Venture. I’m happy for you, really am. You’re sure you’re okay with taking separate ships to North Ridge?”
Blue’s eyes zeroed in on the pegasus still waving from the docks. She made sure to capture an image of every part of the mare. Not that she needed to. Still, it was like skimming the latest issue of Crystal Conductors Monthly, it never hurt to brush up on a subject.
Blue took in the sky-blue coat that could make Lune nearly invisible against the Cloudsdale sky. A mane the color of the sun reflected off of Neighagra Falls on a brilliant summer’s day. A lean—not lanky—body of an active pegasus who loved adventure a little too much for her own good. Strong wide wings—perfect for wrapping around small pegasus engineers.
Tandem chuckled again. He probably saw a silly look on Blue’s face, but she didn’t really mind.
Because then she filled in Lune’s best feature—her eyes. Deep blue, like the waters of the Luna Bay. But more than that, what lay behind those eyes. The way they darted across engineering schematics. The way they crinkled at the edges when she laughed. The way they sparkled whenever Lune said a particularly bad pun—intentional or not.
But more than anything, Blue could see—even from this distance—the way Lune looked at her. It was the way that made her know she was understood.
More than that… she was wanted.
“Venture!” Tandem waved a wing in front of Blue’s face. The young mare snapped out of her reverie and smiled up at the captain sheepishly. “So, when you popping the question?”
“Captain!” Blue squealed, flushing scarlet.
“Hey, I’m just calling it like I see it,” Tandem said, his smile never fading. “Ain’t every day I see two ponies get on like the two of you do. You don’t want to let go of that one, Venture.”
Blue’s mouth quirked up at the edge as she glanced toward Dock Four, to the sleek cargo ship being loaded as the Radiant cleared the final airbuoys. Tandem waved to his navigator on deck and the Radiant’s engines ramped up to full.
“I don’t plan to,” Blue said with a shrug. “And I’m not worried. Even if Captain Bluster was a jerk, Lune can take care of herself. I told you Bluster only offered to take me on as a sailor—and that was only after Lune pestered her for like, an hour—and that pays next to nothing compared to my usual fee! Nah. It’ll be fine. Anyway, her pay for that job alone will be enough to spring for the final components of Lune’s latest storm-cell!”
“You don’t mind being brushed off?” Tandem took a step back, as if Blue was some sort of imposter. “Damn, girl. Lunar Skysong has rubbed off on you. A year and a half ago, you would have torn somepony a new one if they’d tried that kind of stunt!”
A flash of sunlight reflected off the hull of Lune’s ship, illuminating the name of the vessel for just a moment. But Blue hadn’t become an engineer because her eyes were slow.
“If Lune says she can handle the Icarus, she can handle the Icarus,” Blue said, conviction in every word. “Anyway, I can’t wait to see what she has in store for me in North Ridge. Some sort of special surprise.”
“Maybe I wasn’t too far off the mark,” Tandem mused as he rubbed his stubbly chin. “I just want an invite, okay?”
Blue rolled her eyes as the Radiant pulled up and slipped through a fogbank, leaving Cloudsdale behind in their wake.
“I’m sorry, Blue,” Captain Tandem said on the other side of the blackened crystal core cage. It was only like the hundredth time he’d apologized. “I know you were looking forward to North Ridge.”
Blue threw a rag at him and laughed, though she didn’t respond until she had tightened the number four core plate into position. With a sigh, she leaned back and studied her work with a critical eye.
“I told you, Captain!” Blue replied as she mopped the sweat from her forehead, ignoring the oil on her hoof. “I don’t mind. This just gives Lune more time for that special something she had planned!”
“You’re sure you don’t want to send a message ahead?” Tandem asked.
His uniform was almost as stained as Blue’s engineer cloak. It was something Blue liked about Tandem. One of the few captains willing to do the grunt work and get their hooves dirty. A rare thing in her line of work.
“Captain, we’ve both been airship engineers for years. We know how this goes! There’s nothing to worry about.”
Tandem shook his head. “Once upon a time, you worried about everything.”
Blue beamed at him. “Once upon a time, I didn’t have Lune.”
Ten minutes later, they were both topside and Vanhoover was behind them.
But what really mattered was that North Ridge was before them.
And Lune.
Lunar lay dozing in her bed, legs twitching, mumbling in a distraught voice. “What do you mean stockings don’t come in extra small?!”
Off in the distance, the telltale crack-boom of cannon fire echoed. Oblivious, Lunar rolled over with a sloppy grin. “Mmm yeah, blue ‘n blue.”
Suddenly, the ship jerked wildly. Lunar catapulted from her bed. Her head grazed the wall opposite her bed in the engine room of the Icarus. She abruptly landed on the floor with the wind knocked out of her.
“Pirates!” A cry went out above deck.
The sky blue pegasus whimpered in pain as she rubbed her eyes with her wings and her head with a hoof. “You’d think they’d have the decency to fire a warning shot or two fir—”
Another loud crash, this one right below Lunar. The ship shuddered with the impact. Suddenly the floor dropped out from below her.
“No! Not the engine!” Lunar’s eyes went wide in horror as she fell away, wings spreading to slow her decent. A barrage of cannon fire pelt the side of the Icarus, finishing it off, in the midnight, moonless sky.
“No!”
A few seconds later the engine, with a couple of Lunar’s undocumented and storm-powered improvements, detonated. The blonde pony had just enough time to wrap herself in her wings to protect her face from the inferno before it enveloped her, tossing her head over hooves away at an astounding rate.
“No signal?” Blue repeated, scratching her mane. “Not a single peep from the Icarus?”
Outside the wind howled. This close to the Frozen North, ponies had long ago learned to accept that not all weather could be controlled by pegasi. Blue didn’t mind… as long as she didn’t have to fly in this accursed weather.
Beside Blue, Tandem glared out the window beside the dockmaster’s office at the storm. She knew the captain could slice through storms like that without blinking. He just didn’t like them. Like most sane captains.
The mare behind the counter adjusted her glasses and flipped through another clipboard. “No, Miss Venture. I’m sorry. They’re two days overdue at this point, but considering the storm and the… nature of the Icarus… it’s not surprising.”
“Wait, what ‘nature?’” Tandem interjected. “I don’t know Bluster. What sort of ship was he running?”
Blue put a hoof on the captain’s shoulder. “The Icarus has a 7J Core, captain.”
Captain Tandem winced. “Damn, that Bluster likes to live dangerously.”
“Oh, please.” Blue rolled her eyes. “There’s been only three full failures on record for the 7Js. But if the cage isn’t perfectly aligned… well, I usually helped Lune with that. No matter what, though, she’ll handle it. I’m not worried.”
A crash of thunder washed over the dockmaster’s office. Blue winced as lightning flashed through the windows, blinding her for a second.
A tiny seed of doubt appeared in the very back of Blue’s mind, but she shoved it aside. Putting on a smile instead, she said, “Anyway, for the first time, I’ll get to surprise her!”
Lunar opened her eyes to sunlight gently pouring through the canopy of trees onto her face. She blinked violently to help her eyes adjust to the otherwise dim surroundings of the forest.
We don’t remember being here.
“Blue?” Lunar limped around in a circle, testing her gait and stability, feeling the ache of each of the individually bruised muscles in her legs, before emerging from the trench her crash dug in the forest floor, looking for anypony. There were nothing but trees as far as she could see.
Wait, no, Blue wasn’t with us on this trip.
The pony shook her head, trying to get her gears moving. She started to stretch her wings to take off.
“Sweet Celestia!” Lunar fell into a fetal position, tears streaming from her eyes as she looked at her left wing, the sharp pain her sudden movement caused slowly subsided, allowing her to focus. With her pain only radiating from wound now, she took a closer look at her wing. It was bent at unnatural angles, blood matting the feathers together in a gory mess.
Shoving back tears, she tenderly folded her wing into, well, what looked like the right shape, but…
Lunar’s head hit the forest floor, pain overloading the poor pegasus’ ability to remain conscious any longer.
“So… think the rose petals are overkill?” Blue asked sheepishly.
Tandem couldn’t answer because he was too busy rolling on the floor laughing.
Blue may have gone a little overboard on the petals. She had covered half the suite in rose petals. And there were four bottles of cider. And three bouquets. And the set of thunderforged hex wrenches—including the elusive T15.5 stembolt sealer!
But Lune was worth it! And considering the ship was now four days late, Blue was positive when her marefriend got in, Lune would be exhausted.
“No…” Tandem gasped. “No… I think it’s… I think it’s great.”
“You’re enjoying this too much,” Blue said flatly, but she couldn’t keep a smile off her face.
“Probably,” Tandem replied as he finally got control and climbed back to his hooves, brushing a few stray petals off of his feathers. “Nah, Lunar will love it. Not a doubt in my mind.”
Outside, a few rays of sunshine finally broke through the clouds overhead just as the sun began to set. Blue glanced out the window and smiled.
Months ago…
Lunar tinkered away at the engine as quickly as her wings and forehooves would let her. The dilapidated, nearly ancient hunk of junk of an engine in front of her slowly gave way to her gentle ministrations.
We’re surprised to find a model like this still in the wild! It belongs in a museum!
An argument, or at least angry and loud voices, echoed from outside the engine room, growing louder with each passing second. A livid female voice was finally discernable, “... at the state of this ship! You better make good on your money!”
The door opened and Lunar yelled from behind the engine to her intruder, “I told you! I was not to be disturbed unl—” Lunar cut off as she craned her neck from behind the engine and realized it was not the meddlesome captain coming to check on the status of his rustbucket of an engine, again. Rather, it was the first mate and a short, dusty-blue pegasus with some sort of bracer on her foreleg, and a unique bow-like device on her side. Lunar’s face melted into an expression of pure delight.
Well hello there cutie! Hope you’re half as smart as you are pretty, otherwise this is going to be quite a long and boring trip.
Lunar’s voice similarly changed into a pleasant, almost sing-song tone upon seeing her new guests. “Oh, just a second!” Lunar extracted herself from behind the confines of the engine “Thank you ever so kindly Brunt, for delivering our newest engineer to me. I’m so very sorry for yelling at you. It’s been… a long trip.”
Brunt nodded knowingly, then turned to the new engineer and said through gritted teeth, “I will register your concerns with the Captain, Little B… Ms. Venture.” Blue glowered at Brunt at the use of her nickname, but Brunt had already turned away. He nodded politely to Lunar before he closed the door behind him.
Lunar then turned her attention to the new pony; the pepper and raven-haired, almost midnight-blue flank, can lose yourself in those… Wait, why is she looking at us funny?
Lunar blinked herself out of her reverie. ”You must be the help I asked for! Great. That’s so great! I haven’t slept in three days. So great...” Lunar rubbed a spot of grease off her face with a nearby rag while her thoughts trailed off, then resumed by gesturing vaguely to the single twin mattress tossed in a corner with a blanket covering it.
“That’s our bed. Yes, singular. We’ll be taking turns, at least until things start running smoothly again. This thing barely turns over as it is. Oh, I’m Lunar Skysong. And you are?”
Available? Sweet Celestia, we hope she’s not too much of a distraction for us.
Lunar opened her eyes again. Or was it for the first time?
Wait, why are we outside? Trees?
Her left wing refused to cooperate, instead radiating pain from the wound with each slight movement. Slowly, she rose to her feet, fighting the pain.
Right. We need … we need to fix that. Maybe there’s a … there’s a screwdriver around here. Is that right?
The pegasus woozily scanned the woods, hoping, praying to see anypony else.
Nope. Not a great place to find a wrench. Maybe these leaves...
It took her awhile, but she managed to construct some very crude wrappings, and secured her wing to her side.
That’ll have to do for now. Hopefully. Okay Skysong. Water. Food.
Lunar peered at the bright sky peeking through the branches of the tall trees, trying to judge what time it was. The pain rippling through her body kept shattering her focus.
And maybe some shelter by mid-afternoon today. We took this route because it was the fastest, not because it was the most travelled. So, what, we’ve got another three days, maybe seven tops before somepony comes by?
The pegasus glanced at her wing, at the break, and her pitiful bandage efforts.
We probably need a doc’ before then. Okay Skysong, we set out tomorrow.
Lunar scouted the nearby trees and brush, limping along, finding a hollowed out tree that is big enough to fit most of her after about half an hour.
Hello, temporary house. Are you our friend for tonight? You look the right size. Do you come with indoor plumbing and a buffet?
Her stomach grumbled at the thought of food and water.
We don’t even know what we CAN eat.
She glanced around at all the greenery. The berries and leaves she could make out were not ones she could readily identify, not that she’d really had any sort of training. Thoroughly confused by what is even edible or not, her ears sagged, slightly defeated.
Well, water’s more important anyways, they say. Maybe we should find some of that.
She circled her camp, always keeping her makeshift housing in sight. Light faded, and unable to find any water, Lunar tucked herself away in her log. She slept fitfully, excruciating pain jerking her awake when she bumped or moved her broken wing in her sleep, and radiating pain of soreness seeping into her other bones keeping her awake once she woke.
Blue? Where are you
Sunlight crested Lunar’s eyes, dragging her begrudgingly from the sleep she worked so hard to achieve the previous night. Groggily, she re-secured her makeshift bandage with only mild cursing as she prepared to trek out, and looked towards the clear morning sky peeking between the leaves of the canopy.
Come on, Blue. Which way do we go?
Lunar shook her head.
Get it together Skysong. We’ve been in worse pickles than this. Right?
She withered a little.
Okay, maybe not. But this isn’t so bad! We just have to find that train track we passed in the Icarus a few leagues back. Now… which direction was that?
The flightless pegasus spent a few hours orienting herself, gauging the position of the sun through the breaks in the trees. She managed to find a spring and take some very long drinks from it. Finally, she headed toward what she hoped were the railroad tracks.
“You’re sure you don’t want to join us, Venture?” Tandem asked from the gangplank of the Radiant.
Blue could see the worry in his eyes. In all honesty, she couldn’t really blame him. After all, six days had passed since the Icarus should have docked. There were a few rumors running around the skydocks. Stupid rumors about pirates and plumes of smoke.
Blue ignored them all.
“I’ll be fine, Captain,” Blue said with a grin that was almost entirely genuine. “You already delayed by a day just for me. And I appreciate it! But I know the job. If you don’t get to Las Pegasus soon, you’ll lose your commissions and I don’t want that to happen just because Lune had engine trouble.”
“Blue…” Tandem hesitated. “It’s been almost a week. And you’ve heard about—”
Despite his use of her first name, Blue held up a hoof to stop him. “Thanks, Captain, but it’ll be fine. I’ll make sure to tell Lune you were worried enough to delay for over twenty-four hours. That might even be enough to earn you a discount next time. Might.”
Finally, Captain Tandem laughed and held out a hoof. Blue shook it. She was pretty sure only a slight tremble got through.
“You take care of yourself, Blue,” he said in a voice that was way too somber.
“Fair winds to you, Captain,” Blue replied.
A few minutes later, she waved goodbye to Captain Tandem and the Radiant as the airship pulled out of dock and headed south.
It was only when the ship was completely out of sight did Blue make her way back to the Moon Shine Suites.
She needed to make sure the rose petals were still fresh.
Lunar crawled forth from the woods, fighting the heavy terrain and her own injuries. As she stepped forth, the clearing transitioned between full fuzz and clear as a bell in alternating succession, and with great difficulty, she eventually located the train tracks. With that, a sloppy grin spread across her face.
FrEeeEdom!
She slowly wove her way towards the track, as though navigating the deck of a ship at sea during a storm.
Skysong? Do way go which?
She glanced left and the scene swam in and out of focus. She wobbled her head to the right, and she squinted to try to make sense of the mishmash of colors in front of her. She slowly lolled her head up towards the mid-day sun, and her eyes rolled back. That final exertion pushed her body beyond what it could bear, and she passed out again, falling to the ground.
Blue stared at the front page of the Northern Trade Times. Her eyes read the words. Her brain refused to process them.
“That’s… not right.”
It was the eighth time Blue had said that since she had wandered by the newsstand on her way back from picking up fresh rose petals. It had been a day since the Radiant had left and it had been time to refresh her stock.
The town of North Ridge continued on around her. For the most part, they ignored her. One or two ponies may have jostled her, but she barely noticed. They could have been on the Moon for all she cared.
Only a few words stood out in the article.
The first word, repeated several times, was the word Icarus.
There was another word: wreckage.
A third: pirates.
Finally, there was a two-word phrase:
No survivors.
Blue stood there for additional twelve minutes and forty-seven seconds.
Then, an explosion of rose petals announced Blue Venture’s immediate departure from the town of North Ridge.
“Lune, where are you?” Blue’s voice echoed in the vast nothingness that surrounds Lunar.
“Blue! I’m right here!” Lunar yelled up, startled, looking around in a panic.
“Lune! Where are you?” Blue’s voice echoed from a different direction, and Lunar turned around quickly to try to find her love.
“Blue! Hon! Babe! I’m right here! Can’t you see me?” Lunar tried to spread her wings, and then realized with growing horror that she’s now, somehow, an earth pony. As she looked down, she realized she’s standing on more nothingness.
“Lune! Where are you? Fly to me!”
Lunar began to cry and plead, “Baby, please! I’m right here! I’m right here! I don’t know what happened to my wings! Can you help me find my wings?”
The vast nothingness below Lunar cracked, and raw, tumultuous storm power boiled beneath. The clouds below hummed and bristled with energy, and lightning occasionally arced out of the cracks onto the flat plane of nothing Lunar is somehow suspended on.
She scampered away, avoiding the arcs, terrified.
“Lune! Fly to me! Quickly! Save yourself!”
The cracks splintered further, then shattered the nothingness of her ground. All but the single island she was standing on fell away into the storm below her. Slowly but surely, the clouds drifted upward, consuming her, starting at the hooves, then torso, and finally covering head, and then her entire vision fades to white.
A weak “no” escapes her lips, eyes wide with panic. She tries to jerk around, looking wildly at the ponies around her. She’s so tired though, and this blanket is so heavy.
“Somepony hold her down!”
“She woke up!”
“Get that doctor fellow!”
A wild cacophony of voices could be heard in the background of shock and surprised ponies.
Blue... we’re coming...
A white unicorn stallion finally moved into view, blocking her view of the…
Are we on a train?
And he shone a light in her eyes from his horn.
Lunar’s vision faded to white, and she murmured, “...lue…” as she fell unconscious again.
Blue’s wings informed her they were about to fall off.
She kept flapping anyway.
Below her, the long winding blue line of the Coltumbia River ran through a thick forest of pines and aspens. She pulled out the newspaper article she had ripped from the newsstand back in North Ridge. She’d already gone over it at least one hundred-and-thirty-two times.
All data had been gathered. All information had been collected. There was no logical reason for her to continue reviewing the document.
She read it again anyway.
The words ‘no survivors’ stabbed at her like twin daggers to the chest, cutting out chunks of her heart, her lungs, her soul.
Pain was an emotion. And emotions were simply chemical and electrical impulses through the body. Therefore, emotions were essentially energy. Pain was essentially energy. She knew how to harness energy.
She rerouted the energy to her wings.
As the sun set behind her and the stars came out, she saw a tiny stream of smoke in the far, far distance. She’d have to be insane to try to make it there by morning. Nopony could make that in a night.
Blue continued flying anyway.
Recovery operations were underway when Blue Venture slammed into half-burned pine tree on the outskirts of what remained of the Icarus. She vaguely noted a few shouts of alarm as she plummeted to the ground.
Instinct saved her life. Her hoof moved to her side. A contraption linked up to an electromagnetic bracer. Two mechanical arms snapped out. The bow-like device fired.
The grapple caught on a piece of hull impaled on the top of half-burned tree. Rope spun out from a small device in the tool.
Blue jerked to a halt about three feet above the ground.
Ponies came rushing forward. Her eyes ran over them in quick succession. None wore standard-issue airship crew gear. All wore the orange and yellows of emergency responders.
More importantly, none of them had a sky-blue coat that could hide in a Cloudsdale sky, or had a golden mane the color of sunlight.
Blue’s hoof flashed against the rope holding her aloft. The rope broke with a snap.
Her wings, cramping in agony at the murderous strain she’d put them through, filed a complaint upon her impact with the ashen earth. She ignored the complaint and forced herself to her hooves.
“What… are you okay?” one of the ponies who wasn’t Lune said.
Blue tried to speak, but nothing came out. She snarled at herself and took a gulp from a canteen she’d stolen from a campsite along the Coltumbia River.
Biological needs satisfied, she spoke for the first time in two days.
“Survivors.”
The lead pony—some irrelevant unicorn in a hard hat—took a few steps back. He paused, an action which annoyed Blue. It had been a one-word statement. Could these simpletons not respond to that?
“I’m… I’m sorry, Miss…” the unicorn said.
He hesitated again. Blue forced herself not to buck his sympathetic face in.
“There were no survivors. We’re here from—”
The unicorn stallion started listing off corporation names, assignments, duties and even more useless trivia that she didn’t care about.
Blue snapped her multibow closed and lifted the goggles from her eyes. She didn’t think about how Lune had purchased these for her exactly fourteen weeks and eight days ago. That detail could wait.
These ponies were obviously incompetent. They hadn’t accounted for all ponies aboard. It was inexcusable. She would report them for gross negligence as soon as she found Lune and got her out of this mess.
Blue’s eyes scanned the wreckage until she spied the bent and twisted remains of a Seven-J Core Cage. Then, ignoring the prattling moron and the rest of the imbeciles, she darted forward.
After all, Lune was waiting for her.
Ponies continued to annoy Blue. They tried to get her to eat. Or sleep. Or drink. Or get medical attention for her wings. Or do things other than look for Lune.
They were a waste of time. They didn’t matter. Only Lune did.
The Core had shattered into four large fragments. She had located three after analyzing a basic dispersal pattern caused by the explosion. From the data available, the Core had been struck by a projectile after being blown free from the ship. It was the only thing that explained the scorch marks.
It was also—without a doubt—the Core of the Icarus. Blue recognized the storm-driven enhancements to the cage. Nopony but Lune crafted devices like that. They were Lune’s trademark.
She stepped over the twelfth charred corpse—one that appeared to be wear a captain’s epaulets—as she followed a small line of burned brush. There, underneath a low, rocky overhang in the shape of a bird, lay the final piece of the Icarus’s Core.
A small hooflocker lay beside it, looking strangely untouched by both fire or the elements. On the lid, a beautiful bottled storm gleamed proudly in the afternoon sun.
Blue stared at Lune’s cutie mark for a time. She traced every color, every line, every pattern with her eyes. A simple design, but like a fractal, infinite in its complexity.
Infinite to Blue, at least.
Another pony walked up beside her. It wasn’t Lune.
“Miss, I’m sorry,” the irrelevant pony said. “But… we’ve done a thorough count of the casualties. Thirty-seven. The same number as the crew of the Icarus.”
It was pathetic how this team couldn’t even do basic addition correctly. They had obviously miscounted. But Blue didn’t care about that. This wasn’t about correct data. This was about Lune.
Blue ignored the fool and stepped up to the hooflocker. She knelt down and entered the digits by hoof—as her wings were still too cramped to properly manipulate fine objects.
It was a simple matter to enter the digits—they were the ohm coefficient of the ‘storm-cell’ Lune and Blue had been working on for the last six months after all— and allow the lock snap open and fall to the dirt.
Hoofsteps sounded behind her. Blue couldn’t tell if they were coming or going.
She lifted the lid of the hooflocker.
Inside, lay several weather journals, a few mouth-drawn schematics, a picture of Blue and Lune aboard the Skyseeker… and an electromagnetic bracer.
Blue slowly lifted the bracer out of the hooflocker and turned it around in her hooves. It had an intricate design. Delicate tungsten and steel wiring, copper plating and stainless steel. Hoof-forged chassis. Small sensor plates located throughout the bracer. At least twenty-eight combinations of potential triggers. A small circular generator designed to be attached to a engineer’s chestguard or—in a pinch—conduct the natural magical field of any pegasus.
The device was extremely familiar. Blue wore it’s twin.
Blue sat there for a while, staring at the bracer. Lune loved the thing. She wanted Blue to patent the design. It could net them a tidy bag of bits. Probably enough to help get the materials to finish that crazy ‘storm-cell’ idea of Lune’s.
Blue—in a rare streak of sentimentalism—refused. She only wanted two ever made.
One for Blue.
One for Lune.
The only time Lune ever took it off was for bed. The first thing she did after she woke up was to put it on. For Harmony’s sake, Lune showered with the silly thing. Even Blue didn’t do that.
With a soft click, Blue released the catch on the bracer she wore. It fell to the ground with a thud. Four and a half later, the leftover magnetism wore off and her tools fell off. She stared at the tools for eighty-two seconds. Then, Blue took Lune’s bracer and cinched it around her forehoof. She had to adjust a strap by a single unit.
She powered it on and it began to hum. She picked up her tools and attached them in their proper places to her replacement bracer.
Then, she reached into the hooflocker and pulled out Lune’s effects. With careful, slow, deliberate motions, she neatly packed all of them and put them into her saddlebags.
She put her old bracer into the right saddlebag as an afterthought.
It took her three minutes and forty-one seconds to locate a member of the recovery team.
She made her request.
And the pony led her toward a small flat area of dirt where shapes lay draped in black sheets.
They could only guess, and that annoyed Blue.
But the body had fit the dimensions Blue had specified. The burns made a proper identification impossible. Not without a verification of the corpse’s magical signature. That would take weeks—and those were only 47.3% accurate.
To the best of Blue’s knowledge, Lune had never submitted to a magical signature scan.
Therefore, Blue took all available data and came to the only possible conclusion.
She had sat there for nine hours, twenty-six minutes and twelve seconds, staring at the body. Despite this, she did not commit the burned figure to memory. She refused to allow it into her short-term or long-term memory. That data was incompatible with the sight she wanted to access when she thought of Lune.
Instead, she remembered Lune as she had been. The sky-blue coat that could hide in a Cloudsdale sky. The mane the color of reflected sunlight. The eyes the deep blue of Luna Bay.
Blue remembered waking up beside Lune in Cloudsdale eight days ago. She kept that image in her mind. She superimposed it over the corpse. If she concentrated, she could almost see it. And then, Lune was only sleeping.
The recovery team had completed most of their work. An airship arrived to take the wreckage back to Vanhoover for reclamation. And to allow the bodies to be claimed and properly processed.
After another twenty-two minutes, Blue gave instructions for Lune’s remains in a clipped monotone to the head of the operation.
The pony offered to take Blue to Vanhoover.
Blue didn’t answer in words. Instead, she simply walked away into the forest.
A day or two passed. Luna’s Moon was out. So were the stars. It was cold, but Blue had never cared about the cold. She was alone, but she didn’t care about that either.
At one point, two timberwolves attempted to eat Blue. Blue shot them both with cold efficiency.
After that, time had become difficult to track. She wandered, waiting for her wings to recover. She ate from the forest. Lune had taught her how to do that.
Occasionally, she talked to Lune, though Lune never answered. That saddened her for some reason.
Eventually, she got bored of the forest. She took to the air in the dead of night.
It took only minutes for her to locate an airship in the crisp clear sky, though she didn’t arrive there until an hour and three minutes after sunrise.
She landed badly on the deck of the ship, a small ‘expedition’-style yacht run by some tourist company Blue didn’t know. After a brief interrogation, ship’s security had deemed her to not be a threat. She spoke briefly with the captain, a pegasus mare by the name of Solar Skies.
Blue twitched only once when she heard the pony’s name.
A brief discussion followed. While Lune could have negotiated for better rates, a quick display of Blue’s multibow—and the repair of a faulty power conduit leading to the crew’s mess—convinced Captain Skies to take Blue on as a temporary engineer.
The next night, as the Wind’s Haven sailed toward the distant city of Manehattan, Blue looked out into the star-strewn sky. A bright moon hung there. It illuminated the world. Everything glowed a soft white. She studied her bracer. She looked down at the forests.
None of it gave her even a hint of comfort.
But that didn’t matter right now. Maybe comfort would come back someday. Maybe she’d get it for whipping the engineering bay into shape. Their standards were sorely lacking Lune’s perfection. Perfection that Lune could no longer ensure.
After all, Lunar Skysong was dead.
Blue closed her eyes and whispered a prayer to Harmony, just like her mother had taught her when she’d been a little filly.
It didn’t offer her any comfort.
That was fine. Comfort could wait. She had a job to do.
Blue Venture turned her back on the night sky and headed belowdecks. The door clanged behind her.
She didn’t notice.
Blue? You there? Wait, we’re in a bed? How did we get in a bed? Skysong, inventory!
Lunar surveyed her surroundings in a panic.
Overhead lights. Window to a … tree? Firm bed with white sheets. Unfamiliar, beeping equipment. Is that medical? Bandages on us. And what’s that smell? Cleaning alcohol?
Her eyes widened at the implications and she tried to move to get a good look at her wing. Just then, an older, purple earth pony in a nurse’s uniform bumbled in.
“About time you woke up missy. You were touch and go there for a while.“ Seeing the panic in her face, she continued, pulling a notepad from the foot of the bed the blonde pegasus was in. “Now that you’re awake, what’s your name, for the hospital record?”
Lunar blinked slightly confused and slowly stopped struggling. “Uhm, Lunar. Sky… Skysong. Wh… where—” A dry cough escaped Lunar’s throat, just as the nurse offered a cup of water with a knowing look.
“You’re in Canterlot. You know where that is?”
Lunar slowly nodded, eyes widening further.
“Blue! I hav—”
“You,” the nurse interjected and paused meaningfully, getting Lunar’s attention and the rest of the pegasus’ objections died in her throat. The nurse smiled and continued, ”You have to lay right there, and not move until the doctor says you’re good to go. That’s what you have to do.” The purple pony moved with a practiced expertise, quickly and efficiently, checking her charts, reading various equipment, and taking medical stats from Lunar all the while.
“You were out for two whole weeks! You can’t even stand right now if you tried, I reckon. Not that the traction on your back is going to let you out of bed to try.” The nurse pony gestured to the rest of the bandages. “Thirty-seven lacerations, twelve contusions, a mild concussion, and a broken humerus. I don’t know what you kids do for fun these days, but count me out!” The nurse then smiled gently at Lunar. “Just get some rest deary. You’ll be up and about in no time.”
The nurse, having completed her charts, turned to leave, then hesitated when looking at the wing in traction. “The doctor did the best he could. The rest is up to you. And I do mean rest. I’ll come by later with some books.” And with that, the nurse bustled out. The blonde maned pegasus was so tired, even just trying to focus on her nurse for that long was exhausting. Lunar drifted off to sleep with a final thought:
Blue...
“Okay now Lunar,” coaxed the physical therapist gently. “Just like we did yesterday.”
We can do this Skysong. They’re not gonna let us out of this flippin’ prison until we can prove we’re not going to complicate the recovery of our injury. So let’s do this!
The yellow earth pony carefully removed the bandage from Lunar’s left wing, and extended it to a resting length on the table next to his patient.
Lunar shuffled her right wing with frustration, then focused. And closed her eyes. And concentrated. She poured her will into raising her left wing off the table.
“Lunar…” the therapist chided warningly. “Relax. You can’t rush this. You’ll only make it worse.”
Perspiration forming on Lunar’s forehead ran into her eyes, and she was shocked to find tears already forming there. She stopped, and took a steadying breath, and then opened her eyes at the therapist.
“This is going to sound weird, but do you have a fan? I think that would help.”
The yellow pony looked at her curiously. “You stay right there, and don’t move. I’ll see what I can dig up.”
Blue, we can’t do this! We’re not strong enough. Get us out of here! Where are you? We don’t even know where we can send a letter to find you!
A few minutes later, the pony returned with an oscillating fan in tow.
“Perfect!” She smiled her best winning smile at him. “Can you turn it on high and just blast it right at me?”
Now even more puzzled, he did so.
Its force was disappointingly weak. And it was oscillating, so really only on her half the time.
“How’s that, Lunar?”
“That’s amazing! Thank you so much.”
White lies, right? Maybe next time we’ll get him to adjust it better.
“Okay, now, let’s try again.”
But the fan was already having the desired effect. The stress and pain melted away from her, and she focused on her wing and raised it as high as she could. After a few seconds, the fan switched away from her, and she heard it thump back onto the table.
Lunar opened her eyes in shock. “Did… did I just do that? I heard a thump! I felt it thump! How high was it?!”
The pony just smiled back at her, “I told you you could do it. Come now, we’ve got a few more of these to go.”
Maybe this isn’t hopeless after all, Blue! We’ve got a chance!
“Well, you’ve been cleared today, Ms. Skysong. Your doctor and physical therapist have both signed off on your release! Congratulations! You get to go home! I’ve never seen someone recover so quickly, but you need to keep up your exercises to get use of that wing back.”
Home. Blue.
“Thank you! You’ve all been so wonderful here. I do have one question though. Where are the airship docks? I’m expected somewhere, and I’m afraid I’m several weeks overdue at this point.”
We’re coming, Blue. Don’t give up.
It’s been twelve months since the Icarus, Skysong, and we’re not one step closer to finding her! What are we even doing with ourselves? She can’t still think we’re alive. Does she even still want to see us? It’s our fault for the engine blowing up anyways.
Lunar’s now customary eye-patch graced her face, above the glowing green scars on her right cheek. She sighed, washing away her own thoughts, then stretched her wings, enjoying leaving them extended in the breeze, lifting her muzzle to the full moon.
“Skysong! You gonna wreck my deck again? Put those things away!” Brisk Bronco, Captain of the Brantforth, barked at the curly maned pony.
Lunar shook her head, stowing away the longing plain on her face, and putting back on the mask of the professional engineer. “Aye Aye Cap’n!” Lunar responded, and saluted the captain with her wing, to which he just rolled his eyes, and shook his head.
Dropping her wing to her side, she approached him more quietly. “A word, cap’n?”
Brisk looked up from his charts as, Lunar, his chief engineer approached. “Of course, Skysong. What do ya need?”
“I’d like to stay on for the next few runs. You run a good ship, honest, and true. That’s rare. I like it.” She smiled genuinely at him.
The captain took a moment to consider Lunar, then responded, “you’ve been in and out of every port, chasing ghosts for how long, and now you want to stick to a crew? What changed Skysong? Not that I mind at all.”
“Not ghosts.” Lunar fought back some tears, though it was getting dramatically easier these days. “I suppose I’ve been the ghost. Chasing a memory, Captain. I think it’s time for a change, and I couldn’t ask for a better place to do that.”
The captain nodded. “Well, we’ll see after this run. Now get yourself busy in the engine room Skysong, and make my boat sing.” And with that, Lunar nodded and ducked below deck.