//------------------------------//
// Small Talk, Please 
// Story: The Olden World 
// by Czar_Yoshi 
//------------------------------//

In the cargo bay at the Immortal Dream's stern, Shinespark sat surrounded by parts, multiple chunks of metal held aloft in her aura and Braen's armor splayed before her. The suit had been largely disassembled, each leg detached and split along its length, the barrel separated into four sections and detached from the hips and wings. The helmet lay on its side on the ground, with the neck assembly partially peeled back and the damaged chestplate the focus of her attentions.

"Shinespark?" Slipstream's voice asked, calling from the pantry door.

"Come in. Nothing's going to explode." Shinespark's voice was still weak, but she had recovered enough to manipulate tools, and a severed manacircuit sat on a desk before her as she fiddled with a similar chip, making tiny infusions with a spark gun.

"I brought soup," the pegasus offered, wings spread and a bowl carefully balanced on each. "You've been working in here for nearly two days, now."

Shinespark sniffed, her nose catching the aroma. "Soup? Is Maple worried about me?" She carefully put down her work, turning with some effort. "There isn't much else I can do, and keeping busy is much better than doing nothing. Thank you, though!"

Slipstream glanced around for a place to set the bowls, and Shinespark quickly cleared half of her workbench. "Oh... err... these aren't from Maple," she admitted. "The kitchen was empty, so they're from me. Would you mind if I sat for a moment to chat?"

"Sure. I could use some company." Shinespark cleared more room, sliding over a small crate for Slipstream to use as a stool. "It smells good," she offered. "You know how to cook?"

Slipstream shrugged, setting her bowl down and blowing on the broth. "I had to take care of myself somehow during school, and it's a good way to score points with your friends."

"Huh." Shinespark nodded. "So what did you want to talk about? Don't let me get carried away with small talk. What's on your mind?"

"Oh, no, small talk is why I'm here." Slipstream reddened a little and took a sip to hide it. "It's just... with Nyala gone, it's back to only me and Gerardo on the bridge. Kind of like how it was after Dior stayed in Riverfall. That's us, always the backup team... only we're the two who don't come and go. Make sense? So I'm trying to get out a little more before the cabin fever sets in like on the flight here from Ironridge."

Shinespark looked up from her bowl, tilting her head. "You're not going to ask how long until Nyala is back, then? That's... a lot more patient of you than some of the ponies I used to know." She stared at her hooves for a moment, then chuckled. "Sure. I can do small talk. What do you think of the view?"

Slipstream gave an understanding smile. "You're a mechanic, which to her is the same as a doctor. I won't hurry anything up by asking or pestering. I know you're doing your best."

"...Heh." Shinespark kept watching her hooves. "I stand by what I said."

She hesitated, then added, "I can probably fix her enough to talk again."

Slipstream's ears fell. "Oh. So she'll be...?"

"A box on a shelf with a speaker and microphone and camera?" Shinespark feebly shrugged. "I'll see if I can do more than that, but Braen's armor is... complicated. I don't have enough spare parts or raw materials, let alone a forge to remake the severed plates. We'll see how good it can go. The actual obsidian interface is intact, but most of the control logic is broken. Replicating the original experiment, I can do already, but I at least want her to hear, see and talk before bringing her back to awareness."

Slipstream nodded solemnly, listening.

"What I'm most worried about is her memories," Shinespark admitted. "Braen remembering things is something we never built or intended to make. It just happened, and we don't understand it at all. If memories were stored only in a pony's body, swapping their soul like Puddles or Valey wouldn't cause them to forget their past life. But if they were attached to their souls, then Braen would have had my own memories from her time when I was both of us, and Nyala would remember her past. So I don't know at all how that works, and whatever happens will just be up to chance. At least if she's back, I'll be able to make other modifications, like maybe adding wheels so she can get around..."

"Sorry to change the subject," Slipstream murmured, sipping from her soup, "but I'm trying not to think about that. It doesn't change anything and there's nothing I can do, and I'd rather wait to grieve or celebrate until she's out of limbo."

"Sorry." Shinespark winced. "Most ponies in your situation, I'm used to coming to me for answers."

Slipstream sat back on her crate. "What was that even like? Being a big... societal figurehead for half the city? More, even, since I heard plenty about you in the Stone District. I was popular in school, but it probably can't compare."

Shinespark flicked her tail. "It wasn't glamorous like being popular. There was a lot of attention that came with it, but if I was only interested in that, it wouldn't have been worth it. My time was either spent walking with my populace, especially the jobless or displaced Sosans, listening to their stories, telling them there would be a better tomorrow, and actually working to make that tomorrow. There was a lot of planning, research, trying to read ponies and keep secrets, and not a lot of time for the things most ponies do with their lives... or their teenage years. It's one of those things where I'm proud to say I did it, but am glad it's over and I can do everything else with my life again. All things considered, I probably came out of it a lot more well-adjusted than could be expected."

Slipstream listened attentively until she was done. "Sounds not gilded at all. My life, I was either at work or not. You just didn't take any time not at work at all? Nothing to blow off steam?"

"Oh, I had to take care of myself." Shinespark's eyes grew distant. "Trying to share your subject's burdens isn't something you can do for free."

Slipstream chuckled. "Guess I'm eager to find some common ground. Growing up in the Stone District, you know, it was easy to idolize 'the high life'. I don't mean to be disrespectful, but my school friends and I had kind of a mental image of what being at the top was supposed to be, and wow, if it wasn't fun to pretend to be there."

"Really?" Shinespark gave a little smile. "What did you get up to? Tell me it involved dresses."

"Welllll..." Slipstream's gaze drifted upward, an embarrassed fantasy growing in her eyes. "Hot bubble baths. A friend's place even had a sauna. Talking about crushes. Dancing to loud music. Trying on... clothes. All those can be done with friends or alone, and they're a little different either way. Reminiscing about the good old days, remembering in-jokes... Not Sosa's good old days, but like a few weeks ago. Especially after a payday, planning for the future is fun and relaxing. Those were my jams."

Shinespark nodded along. "It's important to maintain your appearance when you have a public image to focus on, but I couldn't pamper myself too much in that regard. Sosa needed a champion who had self-respect, but not someone who cared about themselves more than the district, so I found a balance and got a look and stuck to it. And now you'll sooner see Valey in a dress than me."

Slipstream giggled. "Girl, you don't know what you're missing."

Shinespark grinned. "Who says I didn't do things differently before I became a figurehead?" her grin faded slightly in worry. "Don't take that as a challenge."

Slipstream just gave a knowing smile.

"Anyway!" Shinespark pushed on. "Never had time for crushes. A lot of the time, I centered myself or cleared my mind by going to the old forges and just watching the machinery. It was important to keep my goals at the forefront of my mind, because they were what gave me the strength to go on, and how I controlled or guided Braen. They were also how I coped with all the stories I heard, listening to my constituents. It's hard for even me to believe, but I'm not even twenty and probably have the least innocence of anyone here."

"Well, I was going to ask about the stories you heard, but when you put it like that..." Slipstream drained the last of her soup, declining to finish her sentence.

"Do you not already have an idea?" Shinespark tilted her head. "I feel like my past's been most of an open book to everyone on this ship so far. We've been here for how long, more than three months? You're welcome to talk about yourself, too."

"Oh, I mean, I wouldn't want to..." Slipstream reddened. "I'm just an ordinary passenger, though. You're the ones who are impressive."

Shinespark shrugged. "Doesn't mean I'm bad at listening. If you're undervaluing your story because you think it's less-interesting than mine, I've listened to ponies whose problems ran the scale from thirteen breakups in one month to accidentally killing a houseplant that was a gift from a friend. And some ponies have similar tales. It happens when all of them live in a city with the same major event twenty years ago. But I've never heard the exact same story twice."

Slipstream fiddled with her forehooves. "I mean, I went to school, made friends, had a few misadventures with normal-pony levels of drama, got a job working in the skyport..."