//------------------------------// // 5: A Night on the Docks // Story: Salvage a Better Life // by law abiding pony //------------------------------// Trading with the Rainbow Dash took longer than Howling Tempest would have liked. The Cloud Jumper was not properly set up for proper mid-deployment resupply, and Wiggly knew exactly what they had even if she didn’t know how to make use of it. Nevertheless, the trades were finalized and the papers stamped. What was requested of the Rainbow Dash’s technicians was not as easy as rolling pallets across an airlock. Mounting the two turrets, repairing and installing proper flight controls, and the coding for it all was no small task. It didn’t help that once Sprocket saw just how desperate the quartermaster was for some of the parts she leaned into him.  So it was that the Cloud Jumper tagged along after the light combat carrier to Felscia Shipyard. Upon getting close, the siblings plastered their faces against the screens.  The blue, green, white, and brown marble of New Tranquility was a sight to behold for the spacer rats. Close by, and difficult to make out due to the planet, was the shipyard. In its heyday, the long spindly station was a forest of partially enclosed bays and docks. All manner of ships from the largest civilian liners to battleships to single pony shuttles were in constant traffic.  The war had shattered Felscia shipyard into eight large pieces with a debris cloud that was only recently cleared away. The core of the shipyard had also been made whole once more, as well as multiple docks.   However, these docks were lifeless, save for two which housed capital ships that had not left port in years. The heyday of scores of mass freight, commuting passengers, and crowded airwaves of traffic controls had been reduced to a pale shadow. There was a spattering of warships encircling the living corpse, immobilized by lack of supply.  With pirates making the asteroids untouchable for miners, much of the industry had to be moved planetside. However, that was a long and expensive process which was only in the last month starting to fabricate advanced machinery once more. But the order of the day remained rebuilding the industrial base, with the navy taking the scraps. Anything bigger than a corvette was still many years away from being flush with supply and spare parts.  Even so, the shipyard still lived up to the name.  The station’s core had repurposed the larger cargo receiving areas into repair bays for small craft. The only dock capable of genuinely servicing a warship was restored for the Rainbow Dash, and she was arriving at this very moment.  The Cloud Jumper pulled away from its escort and docked at one of the repair bays. Much like Trireme, the chamber was pressurized thanks to the atmospheric shielding.  While her brother completed the landing, Wiggly Sprocket was practically bouncing on her hooves as she eagerly awaited visiting the fabled Felscia Shipyard. Once every light turned green she slapped the open button and the loading ramp came down. Trotting on down, she took in the sights. Patrol wings were in various states of repair, the air stank of exhaust and machine lubricants, industrial music pounded over the PA speakers, ponies from front to back edge hard at work keeping it all going.  She took a long deep breath, and exhaled out of satisfaction. Now this is where I belong. Fixing up starships and getting dirty doing it. Her wings quivered at the sight of an interceptor that was pulled open for an overhaul. Her eyes went wide at the instinctual draw to put it all back together and hear the engine purr. Flaring her wings, Wiggly started floating over to do just that. She needed to touch the interceptor, inspect every nut and bolt, to feel the rumble of the engine.  That is, until a hoof grabbed her back right leg and tugged her back down to the floor. “Whoa there, idgit, you’re lucky you got to land here at all. There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near my work.” Still in the throes of her need to fix things, Wiggly resisted without paying the mare holding her even an ounce of attention. “Just let me touch it, and get me a tool box. I need to see how it works. How to fix it.” “Hey!”  The mare yelled loudly and spun Wiggly around to be face to face. “Snap out of it, Sparky, or I’ll toss you right back on your ship and post a guard to keep you there!” The derogatory term did the trick and broke Sprocket out of her trance, and she hastily felt her horn to ensure the mesh was still there. Seeing as it was still in place, she fixed the mechanic with a scornful glare. That glare faltered after realizing the mare was a pegacorn as well.  The other mare wore a dirty work suit that identified her as crew chief Loose Bolt. “That was uncalled for.” “Was it?” Loose Bolt retorted hotly. “You got the urge, and you got it somethin’ fierce.  Keep your nose where it belongs. If that proves too difficult for you, you can forget about the work order we have with this heap of junk.” Deeply incensed, Wiggly dearly wished to wring the mare’s neck for the comment, but murder wasn’t on the table yet.  So she had to settle for words alone. “My baby is not a heap of junk.” Seeing that she was getting through, the mechanic chief made a show of eyeing the freighter. “It won’t be after me and the boys have a go at it… Wait a second.”  The crew chief had a flash of confusion as she surveyed the interior, then rechecked the work order detailing the scans the Rainbow Dash had on file. “Is this a terrapin freighter?” Adopting a superior smirk and haughty shaking her head, Wiggly fully expected accolades now. “She is. You should have seen what she looked like when I got her.”  Wiggly dearly wished she had her slate with her. “Just wait til I find a picture. I’d like to see you do better on a poor mare’s budget.” Loose Bolt rubbed a featherless wing along the vessel’s hull, taking a keen interest in the feel and sound. “This is AY-57 grade adamantite.”  She scrutinized Wiggly Sprocket closely. “You pulled this off a destroyer.” The heat in Bolt’s voice made Sprocket grow wearily defensive. “Which was legal by the way due to the right of salvage.” Bolt groaned, completely dismissing the legality of the issue. “I don’t care about that. I wanna know how two ponies pulled this much armor.”  Bolt took several steps back, looking for welding lines. “And as big’a chunks as you have…” The crew chief's eyes dilated completely open. She rounded on Wiggly. “You found a tether gun, didn’t you!” Alarm bells sounded in Wiggly’s head hard enough to cause ringing in her ears. The tether gun was priceless, and fears it could be forcibly requisitioned away from her surged.  “No.  Wire and I just had to muscle it over.” “I’ll pay you for it.” Sensing it could be a trap, Wiggly held firm. “I told you I don’t have one.” Not buying that for a second, the crew chief persisted. “I’ll let you help with the repairs around here.” Starting to sweat as Sprocket couldn’t stop herself from looking around the bay, her mouth went dry. She wasn’t thinking straight anymore. Her wings were slowly flaring as she saw a shuttle, a fighter, then a reentry cargo plane, all of which were just begging for a mechanic’s touch. “I -  well.” Live Wire came down the ramp and bumped Wiggly hard enough to derail her thoughts. “Hey, clown, you square things away with-”  He saw the crew chief and recognized her from the picture the flight controller provided. “Oh, hey. I didn’t think you’d meet us at the ramp.” Seeing how Wiggly was calming down, Bolt feared her chance was lost. “This is my bay, so I prefer to know who's in it.”  Adopting a matter-of-fact expression, Bolt made a show of surveying the Cloud Jumper. “‘Fraid you’re going to take a while. The work order for this tub is too extensive to just get you in and out.” “Ahh, that’s a real shame,” Live Wire started with a disappointed ‘tsk’. “Thing is, we came across a pantry and freezer half the size of our little lady.”  He tapped a hoof on the ramp. “I was going to cook up some choice prime rib, fully loaded baked potatoes, and seasoned asparagus. I’d be happy to make an extra plate for whoever helped us get out of your mane that much quicker.” Sprocket hastily grabbed his head and pulled it close to her own. “What are you doing?!” “Relax. You don’t spend years behind a desk without knowing how to grease the wheels.” When the siblings separated without a resending of the offer, Bolt glanced about, knowing full well how quick news of such a deal would spread. “You have all that?” Wiggling his head back and forth, Wire leveled a sly grin. “It all got a bit of freezer burn, but it’s still top shelf. Sprocket and I have been living like alicorns since we left.” Loose Bolt hemmed and hawed over the prospect. “Ten heads and tomorrow’s lunch too, and we can get you outta here in two weeks.” Live Wire laughed happily, and gave his sister a knowing wink. “You got a deal.” Elsewhere, on the shipyard, a gathering of sixty pilots and other flight crews were celebrating a safe return home.  With Gleaming Light’s official funeral slated to happen in a week, now was the time for booze, song, and everything in between. The fliers of the Rainbow Dash were the guests of honor, while those who patrolled around the colony and shipyard toasted, drank, and roasted them.  The middle was a busy dance floor, but since she couldn’t bring Live Wire to the party, she avoided it. The end closer to the center of the station however was the ‘story corner’. Using augmented reality, they visually recreated tales of ‘daring do’ straight from memory. On the other side of the room rested the bar and karaoke stage. Winter Gale sat aloof on the stool closest to the stage. Presently, only drunken pop rock songs were going on, and it was only mildly more interesting than the thin beer she was nursing. She pined for the songs of her homeworld, and the melodious spirit she shared with all ponies simply wasn’t satisfied by such paltry, drunken off-key singing coming from the crowd.   Jerrycan surprised Winter by coming up next to her and sitting down. The telekinetic pull of the stool kept him rooted. “There you are, your highness.” “Oh sush,” she lightly chastised her half drunken co-pilot. Nopony really questioned the strange honorific, so she left it at that. She was silent for a spell as he ordered a drink.  No matter how many times he addressed her as such, it left her pining to see her family again.  “I do miss our home, though. Our sailors knew how to sing no matter how deep into their cups they were.” Jerrycan grinned broadly at the foamy ale brought his way. “Are you kidding?  We had an art to singing in tune while completely plastered.” She gave a side grin at him. “I’ve heard of that, but never got a chance to see it.” “Is that so?”  Jerrycan laughed uproariously and slammed a hoof onto the bar. “You know what?  I’m not surprised at all, given where you grew up.”  He claimed his ale and guzzled it in one long go, rivulets of ale ran down his face. It was an act that elicited a distant yet impressed eyebrow out of her. “You remember that one song?  Ahhh what was the name…” He clicked his teeth trying to remember. “You know, the one our flight instructor taught us before we were sent out.” “Fish of the Midnight Sea,” she answered with a smile full of nostalgia.  “Well go on then.”  He pointed at the karaoke stand.  Her musical nature warred with her trepidation. “I am not nearly drunk enough to lead a song.” He leered at her with a bit of annoyed humor. “Since when do you drink enough to get drunk, your highness?” “My point exactly.” Snorting at the challenge, Jerrycan spun around and waved down the bartender. “Gimme a blackout stout!” “Wanting to end the night early?” The barkeeper asked with derisive humor as a few other patrons started to take notice.  A large black mug with a foam that utterly reeked of powerful alcohol slid over to a stop between the two pilots. The stout was tailor made for cyborgs, as there was more to it than alcohol and flavoring. So much so that the more natural you were, the less it affected you.    It might as well have been a glass of cyanide to her. Winter shrank away from such a concoction.  “That thing would kill me.” “Ahh don’t be such a pomp. You're only fifty percent prosthetic. You’ll be fine.”  Jerrycan pushed the cup towards Winter who pushed it right back.  “If I drank like you did, maybe.  I never got a liver replacement because I don’t need one.” “You’ll fight a squadron of Rubies, but can’t stand in front of a crowd or drink some proper booze.” “Proper?” She scoffed. “Proper is a glass of red with sweet meats,” Winter confessed readily.  “Eggghhh,”  Jerrycan turned his nose up at the idea. The thought of wine had the whole bar was paying attention.  Some were quietly taking bets on if either of them would actually drink the borderline toxic tankard.  Seeing this and not wanting her reputation as a warrior to be tarnished, Winter stood up and primped herself to remove any wrinkles in her uniform. “Singing it is then. But you need to do the chorus.” “Ah ha! Now this will be fun.” With the current singer on the stand passed out from drinking, Winter flew up to it and daintily used the edge of her right hoof to shove the other pilot off the stand so it would recognize her as the new singer. A few of the pilot’s friends jeered the previous singer for her poor performance and helped drag her fully off the stage.  Once done, a list of songs appeared in front of Winter. She dismissed them all to focus. She cleared her throat and scanned for Jerrycan. He had taken his place front and center of the crowd. Winter couldn’t help but to grin a bit at the support. “I’ll be singing a shanty from my homeworld.”  It was all the preamble she gave before grabbing the holographic mic in front of her.  Her voice came strong and with a steady tempo. “Come all you spacefarers, young and hale. I'll sing you a song of our home from the pale.”  She projected the next few stanzas for the crowd to see.     Jerrycan joined in for the chorus, with Winter adding her voice as well. “And it's windy weather, boys, stormy weather.  When the wind blows, then we're all together.  Boys blow ye winds fringeward, blow ye winds, blow. Out to the galaxy, steady she goes!”  With each word of the chorus, more and more ponies joined in.  Winter fell into a groove and sang with strength and comradery. “Up comes the Ruby Fleet in search of our home. Through space to a place that's beneath shade and throne!” Now the whole crowd joined in with gusto. “And it's windy weather, boys, stormy weather. When the wind blows, then we're all together. Boys blow ye winds fringeward, blow ye winds, blow. Out to the galaxy, steady she goes.” Winter was enthralled by the love of the crowd, and let the music flow freely.  “Through fire and flame, they made to torch us all. Daring and brave, our sailors flew to answer the call.” “And it's windy weather, boys, stormy weather. When the wind blows, then we're all together. Boys blow ye winds fringeward, blow ye winds, blow.  Out to the galaxy, steady she goes.” Rocking with the melody, Winter matched the crowd’s surging energy. “With honor and valor our guns did speak. We chased them back from every pond and peak.” Ponies from the dance floor were breaking away to join in, and the bar patrons were rocking their drinks. “And it's windy weather, boys, stormy weather.  When the wind blows, then we're all together.  Boys blow ye winds fringeward, blow ye winds, blow.  Out to the galaxy, steady she goes!” “Time and again we fought for our home, we found the Rubies wherever they be. Now that it’s over, hold your head high and taste victory.” “And it's windy weather, boys, stormy weather.  When the wind blows, then we're all together.  Boys blow ye winds fringeward, blow ye winds, blow.  Out to the galaxy, steady she goes!” With that, Winter Gale took a bow and the words vanished. The crowd cheered with wild abandon. Still overwhelmed by the thrill of music, Winter waved at them all as she stepped off the stage.  The fame barely lasted a minute before a new singer took her place, eager to ride on her coattails. It didn’t bother her overmuch though. As the thrill ebbed, her desire for a quiet place to rest and center herself grew quickly.  Jerrycan weaved through the crowd, and found her awaiting him at the bar. “You changed the words up.” “Aye. I’d like to think mother would approve.” “Of that I have no doubt,” he claimed while sweeping a hoof to the crowd. All other festivities had been abandoned as the system’s pilots indulged their instinctual need for song.  Winter was about to join in, only to be pinged with a lobby invitation. Hastily assuming it was Live Wire, she accepted without thought.  “Watch over me, Jerry, I got an invite.”  Her body slumped against Jerrycan as her consciousness flew back to the Rainbow Dash. She materialized inside the captain’s office again.  Even in cyberspace it was a spartan affair, just a desk and a neutrally lit room. He typically saved it for disciplinary hearings anyway, but tonight he had an approving look on his face. A look that morphed into a wiry grin upon seeing she was still sober. “Ahh, First Lieutenant, my apologies for interrupting your festivities so early.” What he said next didn’t register to Winter Gale. Being in this office set her on edge. She tried to salute him, but hit her brow a bit too hard. Pain was present, even in cyberspace. “Did I do wrong, sir?” “Not at all, not at all.”  Howling Tempest completely ignored her panicked state and returned the salute hoping it would set her at ease. “Please, sit down.”  He summoned a seat cushion to which she tumbled into more so than anything else.  “Normally I would have waited until after the party, but time is a bit critical. You’ve received new transfer orders.” He handed her a sheet of paper, and the mare took it while rocking on her cushion. “A flight instructor!?” “More of an assistant instructor to start, but yes. Your time on the RD is invaluable to new pilots.  Congratulations.”  He held out a hoof to shake hers.  Riddled with self-doubt, Winter didn’t want to take that hoof. Her heart belonged to the midnight sea, and to her comrades. To leave the Rainbow Dash felt like she was getting sidelined.  Winter didn’t feel like celebrating anymore. “Sssir, is there any way I can decline?” The side of Howling Tempest’s lips jerked up. “One go around flight school was enough for you?”  The tears starting to run down her face was all the evidence he needed that the transfer would end poorly. “In that case, I can come to the reason I called you now as opposed to the morning.” Howling Tempest manifested a new piece of paper beside him. “Your transfer to flight school would be effective tomorrow, but I have an alternative transfer option, should you desire this instead.  I’m afraid either way, you will have to leave the RD. As good of a flier as you are, other pilots need to be honed by carrier deployment as well.” Sniffing and wiping tears away, Winter worriedly grabbed the page. Her breath hitched upon reading it. Then a second time. A third just to make sure the system didn’t mess with her eyes somehow. “The - Cloud Jumper?!” “Aye.”  Howling Tempest gave a long somber sigh. “I want that ship protected.  High Command authorized me to give the salvagers an attaché to aid in their survival.  Be it your piloting skill or your talent in EW, I’ll rest easier knowing at least one salvager has a better chance out there. As I understand, they plan to leave in two weeks. I wish I could grant you more time to make a decision, but the school needs your answer by 0800 tomorrow. so I would come to a decision quickly on the matter if I were you.” The emotional shock was too much and Winter was utterly dumbstruck by the offer.  Being at Live Wire's side was already playing heavily on her. She remembered all too well how the mechanic crews were utterly delighted by the supplies the Cloud Jumper had delivered, let alone the reserve pilots were finally able to fly as well as the squadron could be brought up to full strength for a month. If I can save Wire and the freighter alive, I can keep our boys flying. Worried looking far too eager could look back on her, the only thing she could think to do was fall back on her training.  She saluted robotically, and spoke loud and proud.  “Thank you, sir.” It was a look he had seen before; himself when he was given command of the Rainbow Dash.  “Dismissed, Lieutenant, and good luck.” Winter pulled herself back into her body, and she woke up with a start.  Jerrycan had dutifully stood guard over her, yet that didn’t stop him from sipping the nearly forgotten blackout stout, as he tested to see how much he could handle before the drink lived up to its name. He stopped short of his next swig when she roused. “There you are. The club’s not exactly the best place to go diving into the net, your highness.” She pulled herself away and blindly smoothed her mane.  Her eyes darted around to see if her absence had drawn any mocking eyes.  “It was the captain, actually.  He had transfer orders for me.” Sighing in disappointment, Jerrycan set the mug back down.  “Well damn.”  He shot her an approving snort.  “We were bound to be pulled apart at some point.  Honestly, I’d rather the captain separate us as opposed to some lucky ruby.” “Aye,” she added with a forlorn, thin smile.  As much as she wanted to be with Live Wire, Jerrycan had watched her back for years.  “But who knows, maybe you’ll get orders soon too.” Giving a wiggling shrug of helpless ignorance, Jerrycan finally shoved the stout away and ordered something that wouldn’t make him drop to the floor.  “Ehhh, maybe.  Who knows, maybe I’ll be promoted out of the cockpit.”  He heavily dropped his head on the bar, uncaringly rattling the nearby glasses.  “Instead of dying at sea, I waste away in a classroom.” Shivering at the thought of new prospective air crew turning to him for instruction was not something she saw for him.  “I almost got that fate.  But Tempest let me go with Live Wire’s ship instead.” With a jerking head move towards her, Jerrycan flashed a toothy derisive grin.  “You’re kidding me.” Falling back on a dignified posture, Winter disliked his insinuation by his expression alone.  “I’m there to lend my expertise to ensure their survival.” “Uh huh, and to get busssy!”  He laughed wholeheartedly, earning red faced embarrassment out of Winter.  “What is it with your family and marrying down?  Is it some tradition you’re upholding or something?”  She made to reply, but he waved it off.  “Oh don’t worry about me.  If he’s the one, then don’t hang around on my account.” Her cheeks returned to normal, and she pulled a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Are you sure?” “Of course I am.” He rested a friendly hoof on her withers, and shored up as much seriousness as his increasingly inebriated face could muster.  “It was an honor to watch over you, your highness, but if anypony is going to take over for me, let it be the stallion who claimed your heart.”  He paused for a moment as his face darkened a touch. “Does Wire know?” She shied away, hugging herself with her wings. “No.” He gave a neutral huff. “Eh, it won’t matter if we die before Faraway is repaired.  So just do what you think is right.”   He grabbed a mug and rose it in a toast.  “To you.” Giving a knowing smile, Winter was grateful he only ever went as far as ‘your highness’.  She lifted the other mug and clicked his own.  “And to you.” Bright and early the following day, as Wiggly Sprocket tested all of the newly installed equipment, Live Wire was cleaning up the kitchen. The telekinetic pusher they had poached from the Sword’s kitchen made the process much simpler in the microgravity. The facsimile of gravity it created was a blessing all on its own. Several other pushers had been wired into one of the hallways so the siblings could exercise, yet medication still proved to be their ‘go-to’ for combatting the long term effects of microgravity.  He was whistling a cartoon theme song from his childhood as he scrubbed down the stove. Pulling back to admire his work, the stainless steel was as spotless as its name implied.  “Nothing like a clean kitchen after a great meal.”   He stashed away his cleaning supplies when the ship itself buzzed him. Imposing itself on his vision was the loading ramp with a welcome sight waiting for an answer. “Winter!  I’ll be right there.” Making his way out of the kitchen and through the cargo bay, Wire was giving off a mad grin to embrace her once more before they left.  He arrived at the ramp fast enough to almost miss hitting the open button. Twisting himself to sail through the top as it barely opened in time. Spotting his unaware prey, he kicked off the overhang and stretched his forelegs open wide. “Rawr!” Moving purely out of instinct, Winter Gale flared her wings and got out of the way, resulting in Wire nearly slamming his face on the deck. He barely got his legs up to shield his head before the collision.  Winter cupped her mouth with a hoof out of empathic pain and embarrassment. “Wire, are you okay?!”  She flew over to keep him from drifting off into the bay.  Trying to suppress the pained tears in his eyes, he tried to wink at her. Yet his protective efforts were for naught as his nose was badly reddened and his forelegs were in agony. “Didn’t feel a thing.” “You’re such a laudable idiot.”  Winter helped him out by pulling him back over to the ramp.  “Laudable, eh?” He joked nasally, trying to distract himself from the pain. “I’ll take what I can get.” A small part of Winter was glad he had inadvertently clogged his nose. Winter preferred to wear various perfume during their time in private lobbies. Matters were made worse by the stink of hard apple cider saturating her fur. Winter partied with the rest of the crew long into the wee hours of the morning only because it was expected of her. Even though she barely drank, others constantly splashed their drinks on each other as some wasteful tradition. Presently though, she fussed over his bruised nose, idling wondering if he would refuse some makeup to hide the bruising if she actually carried any. “You should know better than to try and ambush a pilot like that.”  She pulled out a box of tissues from a small saddlebag, and offered one to him to stop any bleeding before it happened.  “I might get you one day. But - ow - maybe I’ll save the speedy attacks for a lobby.”  Hooking a hoof around a handle, Wire more or less secured himself to the ramp. Winter uses her wings to remain free, yet close. “You’re early. I thought for sure you’d pop up around lunch.”  Before slamming his nose onto the deck, he had detected the sink clinging to her, but avoided it to keep from embarrassing her.  “I would have loved to clean myself up better, but things have come up.” “Please don’t tell me you’re already leaving.” Wire dabbed his nose with the tissue and was annoyed it indeed came back with blood.  Giving a wistful smile, Winter nuzzled his cheek to avoid the blood. “My time on the Dash is on hold for a while.”  She saw him getting flooded with anxiety in a hurry. So she pressed on to keep him from sinking into despair. “I was offered a couple of transfer options. Can you believe they want me to be a flight instructor?” “Sure I can.”  He nodded his thanks as more tissues were presented for his bloody nose.  His elation was strong enough to make him let go and float freely for a few moments.  “If even half the stuff you boast about is real, you’ll be great at it.” Giving off a self-disparaging smirk, Winter looked at the ground. “Hardly.”  She held out a leathery wing to flex a knot. “I can maybe teach somepony who is already a natural flier, but those who aren’t?  Not a clue.” She didn’t want to hear any more words of encouragement down that path, so she cut him off by placing a wing over his opening mouth. “Besides, I have a better option.”  She mentally commanded a letter to appear before him.  As the wing fell away, Wire held his tongue for the moment, as he read the highlighted text. “Here?!”  He looked at her utterly dumbfounded.  Giggling behind a hoof, Winter nodded vigorously. “Precisely. The captain thought I could help protect you with electronic warfare if the pirates ever showed themselves.”  She held back the flying potential, as she was not one to rob a pilot of the midnight sea. Laughing with utter abandon, Wire roped her into a crushing hug. “That’s amazing!”  They shared a few more moments before he separated. He adopted a stoic posture, but didn’t bother trying to hide his stupid smile. “Then as the skipper, let me formally welcome you to the crew.” Her own smile faltered however, as concern revealed itself. “Sprocket’s not going to take issue with it is she?”  Winter’s imagination of the protective pegacorn getting violent over being around Wire so much started to cripple her resurgent excitement.  “‘Course not!”  Wire couldn’t contain himself and was starting to forget to keep the tissues on his snout, even as the bleeding was ebbing away. “We have four cabins, so there’s plenty of room.”   “Oh good.”  Winter actually sighed in relief, hoping using separate rooms would give Sprocket time to get used to her.  The two mares had never actually met since the all natural pegacorn couldn’t enter lobbies. “I’ll go grab my bag.” “Let me show you to your room first,” he practically insisted. “You’ll love it, a family friend did some great work on it. They also double as escape pods, believe it or not.” Using a wing claw to pull an errant lock of hair behind her ear, Winter grinned at the idea. “Sounds fun.” The couple slid past the cargo bay that was now almost completely bare. Aside from a set of tools and a few spare parts of their own, the siblings had sold just about everything. Not even boxes remained, leaving the cargo room with enough space to host a hoof ball court with ease.  They found a grease stained and fatigued Wiggly Sprocket yawning and floating in mid air. She was wearing a newly purchased Twilight Glove, a metal and cloth mesh around her wings that allowed flight.  Her curiosity perked her up upon seeing Winter Gale tagging behind her brother. “Bro, seriously, I don’t need to know when the two of you plan to get nasty. Just tie a sock on the door.” Winter’s face went tomato red at the comment and she hid her face behind her mane as best as the microgravity allowed. It was one thing to talk about such things with her fellow pilots, but here with the stallion she loved, it was intensely embarrassing. So much so she could only stutter, enabling Wire to speak for her.  “Not a bad idea.”   The redness on Winter’s face stretched down to her neck. “But no. I wanted to let you know she’s been given leave to join our crew!” “Join us, eh?”  Sprocket’s wings hummed as she closed in. She gave the navy pilot a studious evil eye. “You get one physical date, and you’re already trying to move in?” Suddenly realizing that’s exactly how it looked, Winter sputtered with half-baked excuses, and her embarrassment spiked.  Rising to her defense, Live Wire magically pulled Sprocket away from his marefriend. “Wiggs, play nice wouldja?  You can’t tell me you haven’t been wanting to hire an extra set of hooves.  A free set of hooves I might add.” “Free eh?”  Sprocket eyed the blushing mare with a sinister grin. “Didn’t realize you were-”  Wiggly was cut short by Live Wire magically clamping her mouth shut.  “Wiggs,” he started dangerously, even as she kept trying to mumble on through shut lips. Wire flashed a sheepish grin at Winter who was starting to have doubts over Sprocket.  “Don’t worry, this is how she tells ponies she likes them. Why don’t you go grab your bags, so I can have a small, little, tiny, itty bitty, chat with gnat brain here?” Winter had not signed either transfer yet, so she glanced between the siblings with a dubious look. Troublesome coworkers she could handle just fine, but if Sprocket’s assumed jealousy was already this bad, it risked Winter’s relationship with Live Wire. And that was something she adamantly wanted to avoid. “Are you sure I should stay?” “Absolutely, you’ll fit right in.”  Wire shared an easy grin with his marefriend. He casually flicked a text her way. At that moment, Winter couldn’t tell if those two were actually siblings or bantered like an old married couple. She hoped it was the former. Deciding to trust him, Winter Gale exhaled some stress and nodded. “Okay.  I’ll grab my bags.”  Getting excited, Winter wanted to kiss him, but with Sprocket eyeing her so intently, Winter opted against it and simply left. Once Winter was fully out of sight, Wire pulled Sprocket in close and leveled his own brotherly evil eye of ultimate doom at her. “Wiggs, she’s a bloody navy pilot and a great mare. If you screw this up for me, I will make your life hell for every month Winter’s been my marefriend.” Finally tearing her muzzle away from his magical grip, Wiggly tried to snort his threat away. “Oh come on, Wire. If you actually plan to make her part of the family, she’s gotta be able to handle the bants.” “See this is why you have no friends.  Mostly,” he clarified as she tried to open her mouth. “You have to ease her into your Wiggyisms.” “Oh come on, Wire. She’s a fighter pilot. A navy fighter pilot. I ought to be the one running away red-faced, not her.” Trying to be patient with her, Live Wire nonetheless was steaming.  “You are all foam and no beer.   Can ya at least give her a few days to settle in first?  If Winter snipes at you first then by all means, but until then, keep the bants to just me.” “Ugh, sure, fine, okay.”  Wiggly folded her forelegs and made an over exaggerated move as if she were coddling a child.  “I’ll play nice.  But once the game gets going, there’s no holding back.” Giving his sister a flat look, Wire tried to flick her horn, yet she pulled back in time.  “Just try to keep it proportional.”