It took almost a full day before everyone except Winter roused from their beds. With the complications of gravity sickness and the medication exiting their systems, Wiggly and Wire were left stiff and bruised both inside and out. But they were alive, and that was enough.
Morales awoke with a crippling headache in his bunk. His throat was parched and his thoughts full of cotton, and his fur from head to tail fiercely itched. A dull pain in his arm was new and he saw an age old tool: an IV drip drone hovering over him. The faintly blue glowing liquid was instantly recognized as mana infused saline.
“It's kinda weird how some really old solutions work so well,” Sprocket announced herself from a chair she had been reading in. She got up and carefully pushed the quietly hovering drone out of the way. She fixed a warm grin upon her face. “Winter’s not a bad nurse, and Mote was a big help.”
A beleaguered, weak smile tugged at his lips as he resisted the urge to scratch. “You seem to be doing well yourself.”
Mote manifested nearby with a bow. “Prognosis. Your metathermic levels have risen enough for you to be out of danger. I’m sure you will be pleased to know that the ration bar has resolved your iron and vitamin A deficiency.” She paused and grinned after seeing Morales burst out into pained laughter. “Yes, I thought’s appreciate the news. However, I would advise you to remain outside of your ‘fish tank’ for a day or two.”
“I’ll be fine.” Morales fixed the hologram with a brief unamused glare about his job before grabbing a recessed shelf near his bunk, and tried to pull himself up. Wiggly helped prop him up with a hoof into a sitting position. Every muscle was stiff, but he was able to move. “So. You got up before I did. What next?”
A bigger grin cleaved her muzzle. “Next is brunch. We didn’t just bring ration bars. Winter kept a few MRE’s in her cabin, so we’re cracking those open to celebrate. My brother cooks a mean soup by the way.”
Morales’ hunger roared to the fore, and he was already salivating. “A soup?” He was almost giddy at the idea of a foreign meal, even one as simple as that. “Truly?”
Nodding, Sprocket took a few steps to the door. “We only need to know what kind of spices we can use. Not exactly an easy thing to test when you were out of it.”
Morales all too eagerly rose to his hooves. He had to think about translating his terms for a bit. “Anything! If I can’t handle it, I’ll use the lab to edit myself until I can.”
That’s a bit extreme for spices. Sprocket opted to keep that to herself, and mentally shifted gears. “The Akira has a genetics lab?”
“Naturally,” he replied with growing anticipation of the meal to come. “I only wish I could’ve had enough power to make the salads and lizards more palatable.”
The existence of that lab both worried her, and dare she think it, intrigued her. “We can nose around it later. Come on, I’ll let Winter know to join us in the mess hall.”
“Most exciting.” He paused a moment as Mote’s pad caught his eye. “Erm. Now that we have power again, I have a couple of things to take care of. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
The request was not unexpected, but as much as Wiggly’s curiosity wanted to pry, she had technical journals and manuals to read. “Of course. I’ll see you there.”
As she trotted away, Morales had to grasp his nightstand for stability due to a sudden bout of lightheadedness. It was there that his fingers grazed Mote’s pad. “Right. Time to put you back together.”
After a brief wobble, he claimed the pad with Mote projecting herself into his vision. “Statement. It is good to see you are ambulatory. More or less.”
Snorting in amusement, Morales stretched his face with his hands before shaking himself to limber up. He finished by rubbing his hands along the exposed parts of his limbs to get his fur all going in the proper direction. With an almost restful absent mindedness, he watched a few loose bits of fur drift leisurely to the ground. “This weak gravity is a big help. But I think it is high time you stop being lazy and carry yourself around for a change.”
Mote giggled excitedly as he stumbled his way to the bridge. “Agreement. I do miss being more than a slab.”
Thanks to his pounding headache, Morales had to squint halfway through the ship due to the strong lighting. His tail dragged a bit on the metal plating as he arrived at a small closet sized room. Within, bound by clamps on the arms, legs and torso was a powered down cathrex gynoid. It had gray fur that felt both smooth yet clearly artificial, and that was the theme for the rest of the body. Her clothes were form fitting and covered only what was required to preserve her modesty. Her vibrant blond hair was done up in a high braided ponytail. One might presume her to be a well preserved corpse were it not for Morales revealing a thin, rectangular hole below her ribs by peeling back a rubber plug. Off to the side, a small screen indicated the body had been fully charged.
Morales ran a finger across her shoulders and exaggerated his disgust at finding dust. “You really need to bathe more. This is just unseemly.”
Mote tapped her paw impatiently on a nonexistent floor, and her tail thrashed about. “Rebuke. And whose fault is that? You’ve had a monopoly on the physical hands around here.”
Acting as if he had just been slapped, he recoiled with a dramatic flare. “And put my hands on a helpless jane? How criminal.”
Her eyes flared with indignation and she held an accusatory claw up with a deep pout on her lips. Yet she held her tongue for a moment until Morales relented with a cracking grin. “Factual statement. You are so mean.”
“Me? Never.” Morales reached for a small recess along the wall and pressed it. A small autoclave hissed open, and he placed the pad within. After wiping away five years worth of fingerprints and dirt from the pad, he reclaimed the pad before pressing it into the socket below the gyroid’s ribs.
Taking a step back, the pad was accepted by the gynoid and disappeared behind furry skin that sealed up behind it. Slowly, small lights of various colors lit up from under her fur along her spine, arms, legs, and quite prominently along her tail before her face started twitching. Mote opened her eyes to reveal luminous sapphire irises as more multicolored lights appeared along some of the contours of her jawline and ears.
Starting from above, the clamps released her one by one. When she was free, Mote gave a halting step forward and stumbled with a foot catching the door’s recess. Morales caught her, yet surprise and her weight nearly toppled him over. “Observation. Seems my joints need time to loosen up.”
“Join the party,” he added with a wink.
As the gynoid steadied herself by resting a hand on the wall, and stood upright she gave quiet thanks to him. She held her hands in front of herself and wiggled her fingers. “Exaltation. It feels so good to be tactile again!” She pounced Morales into a bear hug, her strength limited to organic norms.
“Ow,” he yelped in pain as his sore back protested, yet he managed to return the embrace. Even her limited state was too much for him. “Too tight, too tight!”
Letting him go, Mote’s gaze shifted back and forth down the hallway, checking for their guests. As her mind finished expanding to fill the dormant nooks and crannies of her complete self, her thoughts returned to the ponies and the deal that was made. Satisfied none were around to investigate Morales’ cries for mercy, she stretched herself to be tall enough to whisper in his ear. “Cautionary. You risk a lot letting these ponies keep the ship.”
She fell back into a normal posture as he let off a regretful sigh. He scratched an arm, and let off a tense gasp. “You don’t honestly think they’d just walk away do you? Even if they did, we can’t crew the Akira by ourselves.” He leaned back as he thought his ear caught the sound of movement, but it turned out to be a few small hatches opening. Upon seeing cleaning drones march out to perform their function, he faced her once more. “Besides, trust is all we have right now, and I’m hoping these three follow that creed of Harmony they espouse so much.”
“Cautionary. What is said on media can be very different from the practice of individuals.” On a whim, Mote dragged her tongue around her mouth, and was disgusted to find dust and mold. Her body wracked with shivers over it, yet she held fast. The soup will take care of it.
Lifting a curious eyebrow at the sudden case of jitters from Mote, Morales nevertheless stayed on topic. “I’m sure my father species’ sense of morality is as varied as our own. But right now we all need each other. So long as they believe both of us are irreplaceable, we’ll be fine.”
“Will we?” Mote crossed her arms, and tendrils of fear bled from her. “Observation. These ponies. The Initiative. They did not go down the path of ever producing a PI, or anything close to a GI hopefully. They haven’t even begun the discussion on synthetic rights, and here I go walking right into that. Winter Gale and Live Wire, those two might be fooled into thinking I can not be replaced, but Wiggly Sprocket? She sees machines as a weaver looks upon strands. She will see that you and the onboard intelligence is all the Akira needs to enter hyperspace. Not me.”
Growing tense, much of Morales’ mirth fell away like ash. “As your whole self, you are as much alive as any of us. You mechatrex are people, not tools.”
Mote turned around to take a few nervous steps away. Out of her direct control, the synthetic blood pumped loudly in her ear, and she started nervously pressing both sets of claws into her arms. The stinging pain made her flinch.. “Query. Do you honestly believe they will care? Once the wider Initiative realizes the potential of their own terracorns, we are expendable.”
Morales came up to her and carefully pulled a claw off of her arms, frowning at the blue blood leaking out of the cuts. “My xenotype. We are renowned for being a friendly bunch. Too trusting at times, and loyal to a fault.” He turned her around to Mote would look him in the eye. “I prefer to believe a good deal of that come from my fathers. So long as we act with honor, I believe so will they.”
Looking down at her remaining claws, Mote gently releases her other arm. “Maybe you’re right...” he let her go as well, allowing Mote to lick her wounds. Much like most other xenotypes, the act released a wound knitting salve. Satisfied she was no longer bleeding, Mote bowed her head a bit. “Thank you for not telling them about my erstwhile kin.”
Morales pulled Mote into a comforting hug as she began to cry. “I would rather you be the first synthetic face they see.” They remained together for several moments so she could exhale the growing stress.
It was Mote who broke away first, the lights on her face burning red and her tail wiggled against her wishes. “I’m a mess.”
Flashing a disarming smile, Morales gently pulled her by the arm to a nearby washroom. “You’ve been separated from your greater self for five years. You’ll be fine. Now come on. Let’s get you washed up before reintroducing you to the new crew.”
Clasping her hands over her muzzle, Mote pulled free and bolted into the washroom, but stopped at the door to face him once more. “Query. How should I do that, exactly?”
Waving her to go inside, Morales stood guard at the door as Mote retreated inside to wash up. That gave him time to think, and turned to the most obvious thing he knew of the ponies: Harmony. “These ponies are a strange species for being more or less as evolution made them. At their base, they are both prey and predator. Just go with what feels… Honest.”
Running water splashed from within, making normal speech difficult. “Commentary. I think we’ve already been to honest with them already.”
Throwing his hands up a bit, Morales went with the next best thing. “Then try laughter. Be obnoxious and cheerful. You know, how you always are.”
In the mess hall, Live Wire was whistling a joyful tune as he improved the rations provided by taste tested ferns and grasses. The lack of the usual herbs and spices was a challenge he was up for. The saving grace for it all were the two ration packs of beef cubes for his soup stock.
Wiggly Sprocket was nose deep in a data pad she found in the chief engineer’s quarters and was overjoyed that Mote was able to translate it all, and to find it held technical schematics and journals about the various systems found on the Akira. While the engines and hyperspace transit systems held her focus at first, it was the mosaic of technologies that gave the frigate its form that locked her interest. She was so absorbed by it that she heard nothing of Winter Gale’s holo-vid about recent news and fashions. The pilot was using a screen she had pilfered from her escape pod to play it for Wiggly’s sake. For all the good it did for the distracted mare.
“Absolutely astounding,” Wiggly announced to no one but herself. “And frustrating. Some of this stuff I’ve only seen in fiction, and other stuff is outmoded even for us! I wouldn’t be half surprised if a piece of an ancient chemical rocket component was in here.”
While professional curiosity pulled Winter towards the odd declaration, she quickly realized Sprocket was lost in her own world. So she opted to leave the pegacorn well enough alone.
The talking heads of the news switched topics that made her fur stand up. “The Navy spokesmare made an announcement today. Thirty six hours ago, the centuari pirates attempted to launch an ambush against our valiant defender the Rainbow Dash. Scout craft spotted the ambush of over six vessels and two dozen strikecraft. Revealing once again just how far they’ve fallen, the centuari fled before the Rainbow Dash could strike the cowards. Seeing them on the run, our brave scouts engaged and destroyed four centauri fighters before being recalled.”
Winter didn’t care much about the propagandized spin, she had lived that life in the cockpit. They made a move on us. A big one. If they’re willing to commit that much strength, then they must be manufacturing more ships. Even an idiot should see a coward was in command. That won’t happen again.
The quiet steps Morales was known for caught her ear right before he stepped into the dining area. What she had not expected was the gynoid behind him.
“Everyone,” he announced with a wave of his hands behind him. “I would like to introduce you to Static Carillon, or as you’ve known her lesser self: Mote.”
“Salutation. So glad to meet you in my full self.” She curtsied formally, and eyed each of them with fraying nerves. The shocked mares weren't helping Mote’s growing anxiety. Live Wire poking his head out from the kitchen was followed by a low whistle. “Well grease my pan. You look like a cathrex version of Gearbox.”
The comment broke Wiggly from her stupor and she gasped. “No way. Ack! You’re right she does!” The pigeon blue pegacorn jumped up to prop herself up on the table so she could better observe it all. “Right down to the light pattern!” Embarrassed with herself, Wiggly sat back down, and rubbed her mane smooth. “Sorry, it’s a character from a kids show we used to watch.”
Mote laughed haltingly at that, hoping the comparison disarmed them about her. “Assurance. Ahh. Well, I can tell you I at least never acted.”
Winter tilted her head a bit as she intensely studied the gynoid. “Lesser self? It must have been horribly dreadful being restricted to a pad.”
Feeling encouraged, Mote spun in place, with her tail thwapping Morales across the leg before ending the spin by grasping back of a chair. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I’m just glad to be able to move at all!”
Wiggly’s eyes ran all over Silent Carillon while also straining her ears to listen for any machine noises as Silent Carillon moved around, finding none. “Amazing! You move so fluidly.” A high pitched girly whine escaped her, causing Wiggly to cover her mouth.
“Gratitude. You’re too kind.” Still unsure how to take such an animated response, Mote mentally did a little dance before claiming a seat near Sprocket.
Wire was pulled back to the stove when he smelled the beginning of something burning. That left Winter to take a more measured assessment of the synthetic cathrex in front of her. “So what name do you prefer?”
“Explanation. Silent Carillon is my formal name. Mote is a name I took up when I was diminished.” She touched thumbs and fingers together to form a thin rectangle. “But since you met me as Mote, it would not be incorrect to continue calling me as such.”
Morales sat down next to Mote and playfully leaned his whole weight against her shoulder, causing the jane to ‘gack’ out of surprise, and grip the table to keep from falling to the floor. “You lot are a lucky bunch. Normally she’s very formal about names and titles.”
“Command. Get off, get ooooff!” She whined until Mote managed to scramble out from under him, causing him to fall to the floor. She rubbed her shoulder to massage the pain away. “You are such a squid.”
“I like her!” Wiggly proclaimed with a firm head nod towards Winter. She spread her wings and hovered around to lend a hoof to help Morales back up, but the cathrex was already climbing to his feet. Sprocket turned her attention towards Silent Carillon, and kept looking for signs of mechanical joints under the jane’s full body jumpsuit, but it all seemed organic. “Now I got a big question. If you guys can make somep - someone like Mote, why is the Akira such a hot mess?”
Winter raised an interested eyebrow as well. “I must confess my curiosity falls along the same lines.”
Patting her on the back, Morales gave Silent Carillion a sly wink. “I said once before we tried to create xenotypes for all manner of planets we were too impatient to terraform. When biology failed us, we took a different approach. Carillion here is a Personified Intelligence.”
“Personified?” Winter took special interest in the word. She glanced at Wiggly, and was glad to see the engineer picked up on it too. “If that is your custom, I can assure you, the Initiative will respect it as well. But I must confess I’m interested in the matter beyond just a legal status.”
Mote didn’t release the breath she was holding until she spoke. Morales’ stunt had only been a temporary reprieve from the stress that was painted over her face and animated tail. “Recitation. To echo the argument that allowed my xenotype to be recognized, we learned to mimic life so well and in so many ways that we became truly alive. That effort saved us in the end.”
“Does that mean you can eat a good soup?” Live Wire announced as he entered the room with a serving bowl of steaming food and five small bowls floating around his head. “Because if so, that’s enough for me.”
He set the food down and the two cathrex took long, deep whiffs of the tantalizing meal before them. Live Wire had taken a pair of jerky rations, cut it up into small pieces and used it to stock soup before thickening it up with some taste tested grasses and ferns from outside. All of it being gathered by Winter Gale. “We seem to have somewhat similar palettes. The garden you have seems all to be edible for us as well. Or at least it’s going to take longer before I break out in hives or go into anaphylactic shock.” He finished it all by placing a pile of salt and pepper packets, and tiny bottles of hot sauce in between everyone. He raised a ladle and small bowl up. He had to be careful that the low gravity didn’t make the meal fly out of his control. “First helping goes to the good doctor for saving our tails.”
Morales could barely contain himself as the hearty soup was presented to him. It was his knowledge that ponies preferred to eat only after everyone else was served that kept him in check.
The two mares opted to save any further questions for the time being and gave him thanks for the delivered food.
Silent Carillon was barely any better than Morales. She had to keep her hands off her spoon for fear that she couldn’t control herself if she touched it. “Oh I can eat food alright. Electricity can only do so much.” The ponies were surprised to see Carillon was actually drooling over the smell.
Live Wire put a bit more haste into serving the mares and then himself. Once complete, he lifted his spoon and cheered. “For survival!”
“For survival,” everyone cheered back.
The two cathrex leapt upon their bowls with abandon while the siblings ate with equal gusto. Only Winter Gale ate in a dignified manner, taking time to actually enjoy her meal.
The soup was hardly fine dining, but to the taste starved group, it might as well be. They were all silently eating until Wiggly Sprocket came up for air after guzzling her broth. “That-” she took another breath. “Was the best beef I’ve ever had.”
It was a sentiment that was shared around the table. Morales was fully moved to tears, and had to refrain from licking the bowl. “If this is what you can make from rations, I must taste what you can do with a properly stocked kitchen.”
Live Wire took a deep sense of pride in his cooking, and grinned widely at the praise. “And I might find just that in Ponipolous.”
“Speaking of which,” Wiggly asked as her wings quivered with anticipation. “The code box made it through intact, all we need to do is get back up there. So how exactly are we getting this bird to do that with only maneuvering thrusters?”
Morales gave a knowing glance towards Mote. “Because we don’t need the engines to slip into hyperspace. Only Silent Carillon and myself.”
A day later, after everything was prepared, the ponies sat uncomfortably on the bridge. The chairs did not agree with their quadrupedal anatomy, but at least the controls were made accessible to Winter and Live Wire via cable connectors after Wiggly rigged up some poor-man’s adapters. Winter Gale strapped into the pilot’s seat with Wire manning the gunnery station. Wiggly claimed the captain’s chair had to use a holographic interface. Morales was in his ‘fish tank’, and Mote claimed the comms station. She did not touch the controls, instead her tail had a series of wires connecting to ports below the chair, and her gaze was vacant.
Live Wire cautiously tapped a few commands to boot the console in front of him. “Let’s hope that crash course was enough.” He took the role of co-pilot, but had few illusion he would actually take control over Winter.
Wiggly had taken to learning the ins and outs of every aspect of commanding the frigate, yet she felt nervous about how new it all was. Give me an engine room any day over this.
Mote’s voice chimed in from the PA speakers all around them. “Declaration. Finalizing setting biometric locks and passcodes. In the absence of the original crew, I will serve as officiator. Wiggly Sprocket. Do you agree to accept the role and responsibilities as captain and chief engineer?”
Still not entirely sure why this little ceremony was necessary, the ponies went along with it. Wiggly wasn’t sure if she had to nod at some hidden camera. “I do.”
“Live Wire, do you accept the position of executive officer and ship’s chef?”
The stallion was a bit giddy at having such a formal title, even if it meant little outside the ship itself. “Absolutely.”
“Second Lieutenant Winter Gale, do you accept the helm and tactical command?”
“Naturally.”
Silent Carillion wiggled a bit out of excitement. After being marooned for so long with minimal power, she was glad to be underway. “Crew registry updated. Gravitor Morales, we are clear to begin transition.”
“Gladly.” Morales’ horn lit a rich emerald light that bathed the upper half of the bridge in its brilliance. He held his hands up and out as far as the tube allowed with his eyes closed. The Akira groaned and shuttered from its rest.
As his magic flooded the ship and the surrounding greenhouse, Silent Carillion leveraged the Akira’s systems to mold it properly. While she could have let the onboard computer handle it, Mote was still nervous about appearing superfluous around the two cyborgs.
While the crew was protected within the hull, the space immediately surrounding the vessel warped and tore as gravimetric shearing increased to the point where the roof and walls of the greenhouse started breaking down.
Winter Gale saw the ground was becoming soft and unstable. Even after reading the manual Silent Carillion provided, it was a little heartbreaking to watch the small patch of life being torn asunder. Poor things. I know they claim the plants `n adapt to the moon’s atmosphere, but what about the rest? Having to shelf that concern away, she kicked on the maneuvering thrusters. “Keeping us stable.”
Wiggly kept an eye on the power draw and was amazed how fast the capacitors were depleting. The backup reactor could only produce so much power, and she was growing worried they’d run out before long. “Capacitors are down to forty two percent.”
No one answered straight away, leaving the mare to bite her hoof with growing anxiety.
Then, the outside world was masked by the warped and twisting light until it, or more accurately, the Akira, vanished. In its wake, the damaged greenhouse shattered and was left open to the outside air.
The next moment, Wiggly peered through the cameras, only to see what looked like light purple fluid. They were submerged in what quickly appeared to be a universe sized ocean.
All of the ponies could see this, and even with the briefing the cathrex provided, it was truly shocking to behold. Yet before Wiggly could think to check the readouts to ensure the massive hull breach over the engineering compartment was not leaving them compromised, the Akira began drifting and was pulled into the opposite direction.
There. Looming over them as if they were nose to nose with its atmosphere was the pale green gas giant. Close enough now to see the hurricane force winds and storms below. The proximity of it felt as if it was dragging Sprocket inexorably down the giant’s gullet. “W-why is it suddenly so close?!”
“Spatial contraction,” Morales explained with an even temperament. “It only looks that close because of the gravity well’s lensing effect. Didn’t you read the primer Mote created for you?”
Struggling to calm down, Wiggly looked to her fellow ponies. Winter was more or less still cool and collected, her focus set on getting the Akira moving towards the planet. Exhaling slowly, Wiggly sat back down. “Hey! A lot of the bags I’m having to wear comes with too much reading to do in a single day.”
“If you knew her like I do, that’s saying something,” Live Wire chimed in with a reassuring nod in her direction.
“Suggestion. Hyperspace has a beauty of its own. Perhaps you should observe it while we’re still here.”
Sluggishly, Winter dragged them out of the foggy purple waters and into a thin layer of clear blue between the distortion of the moon’s gravity, and the monstrous gas giant. In those brief seconds, Wiggly could see the wider expanse of hyperspace. Instead of a distant white light, the star appeared as massive now as the gas giant had from the moon’s surface. Foggy spheres of purple mist amidst the ocean of thin blue marked the smaller planets’ locations while the other gas giants could be seen by the naked eye. Beyond that, dense clouds of roiling fluid seemed to burn and light up in sudden violent energies that gave the impression of storms. One such storm fully encompassed the system along the western section of the elliptical plane.
“Warning! We’re about to be pulled back into real space. Expect turbulence beyond what the inertia dampeners can compensate for!”
Turning her cameras back to the front, Wiggly grasped her chair for dear life as the Akira passed through what felt like the surface of a raindrop. In a snap, the blues and purples of hyperspace vanished, and the darkness of real space and the gas giant returned. Instead of feeling close enough to reach out and touch the planet with a hoof, the Akira found itself in between the moon and the gas giant.
Morales plastered his face against the glass to try and get a better look at the wonder laced panic still written all over Wiggly’s face. “That went well.”
Seemingly ignorant of his gentle teasing, Sprocket looked to her readouts. “Ahh… The hull made it through okay. No new breaches or anything. We burned through all but a quarter of the last AM tank.”
Winter used the report to shake off her jitters from the transition. “Right. We’re - Ah - four hours away from Ponipolous at full thrusters. Turning there now.”
“Advisement. All systems at energy saving mode,” Silent Carillion said with tittering cheer as she struggled to remain professional for a few moments longer. “Navigation shielding is active, and that signal box of yours survived as well.”
“Oh yeah! Clownfish, we’re back in business!” Live Wire reached over to offer a high one to Wiggly, and she hauntingly returned the gesture, and she struggled to recollect herself. The gas giant was no longer brushing her face, but a safe distance out. Turning to see, the star was back where it belonged. The moon no longer held them in its grasp.
Shaking it off as best she could, Wiggly focused on the work that laid ahead of her. “Right then. Let’s go to the store and pick up a new engine room. You think they left one on the shelf?”