//------------------------------//
// Chapter 32 
// Story: Return to Sender 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//

This was probably the wrong time to direct her attention to helping Delta. She would have more time once their position on this salvage ship was secure, and the communications were back up. Once that happened, she wouldn't have to rely on the will of a single, diminutive shred of Harmony to protect her from forces that desperately wanted to escape it.

But when Harmony said that “her species” was driven to socialization and cooperation, she didn't really know for sure what that meant. But seeing a friend she had dragged here, who had only wanted to save her—that wasn't something she could just brush aside.

She stopped beside the pony, resting her wing across her back. It was the closest thing to what she would've usually done with those tentacles. "Listen to me, Delta. We aren't here to hurt Effervescent Meridian, or any of the other growing things on your world. Even the motionless ones in the trenches are safe from us." More specifically, they would be, if only she could negotiate this properly. "You wanted to see what life was like off your world. You wanted to see beyond your city. With me, you will. You'll see things you've never imagined."

Delta turned her head slightly to look at her. Was she learning, or was that just a bit of lucky coincidence? "Tea. I can't smell anything. You look so strange. Was any of it true, the things you said?"

"All of it," she said. "I'm from a world called Equus. My ship came to meet other living things, but we were attacked in orbit. I'm part of the rescue fleet looking for our survivors."

Delta stood. How she managed it after such a short time, Felicity could only be amazed. Maybe that just meant she was “higher complexity” than Felicity herself. Maybe she was just lucky. Her hooves wobbled and shook with the effort, but somehow she managed it. She looked between them, and the strangeness of the room. She looked down at herself, and the body she'd been forced into. "There are old stories," she said. She didn't seem to grasp yet a difference of volume. Without scents to regulate, all she could really do was shout. "About predators who could hunt better than all others. Predators clever enough to swim through the stars. Our priests protect us from them, keep them from reaching our world. You've come to hunt us."

Escape Gear laughed, her voice booming through the enclosed space from the speakers on her helmet. She looked down at Delta, with a human expression the alien could surely not read. But then, she probably couldn't read Felicity's emotions either. How long had it taken her to understand what the growing people did, and why? 

"You were plants, filly. If you're smart plants, that's not even close to the weirdest things we've done. What you are is abundant, now that the genes are off the hallowed homeworld. Why in the queens' ancient names would we hunt plants that think, when we have greenhouses full of plants that don't. You're the exception, not the rule."

One eye seemed to watch Escape Gear, though just because she could somehow speak the language didn't mean any of that would sink through to the mind beneath. Could she possibly understand? And of course, Felicity was the one who knew enough to make that translation make sense. 

"Her world doesn't have any," Felicity said, before Delta could form words. "Or..." Then she stopped, considering. It did, actually. "Delta, most plants we encounter are like the ones that live on the surface of your world. The indigenous population. They are not capable of feeling anything, they have no minds, no will beyond their genetic drives. Those are what we eat."

"When we bother to eat at all," Escape Gear added. "The Varch'nai get our power electrically most of the time. You have any idea how inefficient natural photosynthesis is? Growing our food in a greenhouse would be completely missing the point."

Delta looked between them, obviously listening. But there was little sign of comprehension on that face. Then again, would she even use familiar expressions? "So beyond the ocean is... a sky without voices? Dead things growing, and being devoured by other dead things."

"Do we look dead?" Felicity asked, sharply. "Think, Delta. I've been living with you in Meridian for a long time, probably years. Was I dead? Could I do less than anyone else who grew there?"

That silenced her. When her face did change, it was to break into another familiar expression—a grin. "You were just a sapling, Tea. Even for Grovetenders, you couldn't do most things."

"Exactly. Everyone out here is the same. We aren't 'predators'. We're people. We grow the same as you do, just not using the same energy."

Harmony cleared his throat, loud enough to force Felicity to look up. "The crew of this vessel have begun repairs as I suggested," he said. "They won't admit it, to save face. But they should only take a few hours. Beyond that, we can only hope things have gone better in orbit. The destruction of one ship should not mean the loss of all."

"I should help them." Escape Gear turned towards the makeshift airlock. "Techs are good people, but their thinking is so... mechanical, so rigid. Go down the damn checklist until you've tried every possible repair, instead of just fixing the damn problem." She stalked off. "I'll keep you posted, captain." 

Harmony didn't follow, though Felicity half-expected him to. it was a stupid instinct, even so. He could manipulate the systems of the entire ship no matter where he was. He was probably still supervising the repairs, even if he stood beside her. "Sounds good," Felicity called. "Remember why we're out here. We still have people to find."

Escape Gear left without another word, leaving them alone.

"That is a very... strange idea. Growing different ways. Not here to hunt."

"I would not tolerate the needless destruction of new minds," Harmony said. "You have developed differently than most of my population. Your insights will be valuable to our Harmony." He shrugged one shoulder, dismissively. "If we thought otherwise, we would not hunt you, in any case. Biomass is too common to conserve. We would sterilize your planet without ever landing on it. But there is no need—as you will see, ponies prefer to be friends."

"You could work on your bedside manner," Felicity snapped. "And maybe your tact. Do you know anything about negotiation?"

"No," Harmony said, as frankly as commenting on the weather. "Other parts do. But your mission was not meant to be diplomatic. You are not a negotiator."

And here I am anyway. Felicity rolled her eyes. "Here's your first lesson: please stop threatening people, even if you mean it." She looked down, back at her helpless friend. "Hey. You want to try walking? If you can get around on your own, it will make things a lot easier going forward."

"Walk," Delta repeated. Her voice was withdrawn, confused. "What does this mean?"

"Like swimming, only dryer. I'll show you."

There wasn't much better to do, under the circumstances. Delta was hardly a natural when it came to moving around. But she was determined, and picked things up with only a little practice. Felicity went over the basics of how to move around, moving at a painfully slow pace. She'd never imagined what it would be like to explain what a head was, or why limbs could bend one way and not others.

The conditions were hardly ideal for practice like that. The air was cold, and probably oxygen poor too from how quickly they could get winded after exercise. When they'd been going for a little while, she fished around for supplies, and came up with an ancient emergency-kit meant for passengers. There were dry brown meal bars inside, and a few foil envelopes of water.

She could get Delta to drink at least, with some coaxing. But she refused to touch the ration bar, even after Felicity explained. "You're looking at a construct of lab-grown proteins, fats, and sugars meant to keep you alive. None of it came from your world, or ever grew. It comes straight from chemistry."

Felicity wasn't too good for it. Neither was Harmony, who came for half the nutrient pack without a word. She gave him one bar, then settled down beside Delta to eat the other. The creature merely watched. She must be feeling hunger by now, given that she was about Felicity's own size. Growing filly like her could eat her weight in grass in a day, maybe more. But she wasn't watching anymore—all the moving around had worn her out, so she curled up against the bed, stretching her legs around one metal bar like they were tentacles. She fought sleep, nodding off and then twitching blearily back again.

"I've been thinking about something," Felicity said. Quietly, so she wouldn't wake her companion. Or that was the hope, anyway. "About you."

Harmony grunted, and kept chewing. He did it mechanically, obviously not paying attention to what he was doing. It was a simple process, extracting the nutrients from the food he ate.

Not much of a conversationalist, then. But that was the way most people liked it, at least the ones who lived down here in the real world. They wanted the freedom to live their own lives.

"You're not really Harmony, anymore. You're a little piece, one that spent a lot of time getting your own memories."

The colt grunted again, but this time there was something different in it. That disinterest was a feint.

"I'd like to call you something new," she went on, without missing a beat. "So long as you're separate from the rest of Harmony, I want a way to talk about you, but not all of you. If that makes sense."

His face twitched once, so small it was barely noticeable. But whether that was a smile or a grimace, she couldn't quite tell. "There is some... virtue in that decision," he eventually said. "Reflecting unique experiences. I'll allow it."

She sat up on her haunches, curious. "So what should I call you?"

He didn't meet her eyes. It was probably the first time ever that he'd avoided looking at her since his transformation. "You must choose."

There's something else at work here. True or not, she didn't argue. She already had a name picked out anyway. "How about... Manny?" she asked. "You're part of Harmony, but you're not the whole thing anymore. Maybe you're less capable, but so what? If we all judged each other purely on what we could do, we'd all come up short."

She reached out with one of her wings, patting him gently on the shoulder. He might be taller, but she could still reach. 

"You saved my life. If that doesn't make you a friend, I don't know what would." She sat back, thoughtful. "It will take a little getting used-to. You were an implant, now you're a person. It is a confusing transition."

"Not as confusing for me as her," Manny said, nodding towards the unconscious body beside them. "Controlling bodies is simple. Controlling only one is less complex than my capacity. But Delta was construction machinery. Evolved beyond her purpose... no one can say what she's capable of."

Hopefully Delta wasn't still listening, or that was all going to sound terribly rude.

Felicity settled down beside the semi-conscious figure. Ponies and plants had this habit in common too—communal sleeping. "I'm not sure when I'll get another chance to rest," she said. "Wake me up if anything crazy happens."

"I'm certain it will," Manny said. "Hopefully we can survive it."