//------------------------------//
// 8: Wings of Steel 
// Story: Memoria 
// by Li Cruz 
//------------------------------//

	The airship bobbed in its hangar, an armed whale at home. Across the floor, laid various tools and strange mechanical artifacts. Luna picked her way through.
"Hey, you down there!" A male voice called. "Could you hit the green lever!?"
Luna looked up. Tangled in the ropes, a pony hung upside down! Luna stumbled over a pipe to get at the green lever. 
A short scream later, the stallion in question was extracting himself out of the ropes. She recognized the bat-pony from the chamber. He grumbled as he worked himself loose.
Clang.
Luna felt a little nauseous as one of his wings just popped off and fell to the floor.
"Horsefeathers." The stallion grunted as he scooped up the wing. "I hate reattaching my wing."
Freed, the stallion moved over the clamp and placed the wing in. He examined the exposed end for a moment before perking up.
"Ah, thanks, Miss Prisoner." A blush was seen through snow fur. "Old Flamey got herself in such a tizzy. And well -."
"Anyhow, you can call me Gear. My original name is too stuffy to be used." He held out a grimy hoof.
Luna gingerly took the offered hoof in a quick shake. "What do you do?"
"Ah, well, little old me? I'm the Head Mechanic for the Coven." He flashed a brilliant smile. "You can say the opposite of Herb-colt - I mean, the Head Mage."
"Mage? You mean the Earth pony born of Starswirl?" Luna's ear perked despite her self.
"Ah, don't be talking about his father like that." Gear poked something stone at the end. "He's a mite easily angered about that."
"Do you know why?"
"Eyup." The steel edge warned Luna off.
"What happened to your wings?" Luna watched him pick up a tool with the opposite.
The steel disappeared. "Well, lost this one in an incident back when the Boss's parents were around. I served the late Lord - after all, not many of us batties take up mechanical work, though we're good at it."
"I didn't know." Luna admitted.
"Eh, well then you're no Hecate. Thank the Night for that." The wing in the clamp moved by itself as he prodded. "Back home, most of us specialized in animal care, scouting, or smithing to be honest." 
"The Boss and old Shadow came to help me after I was grounded. After all, how can you be a batty or featherhead without both wings?" Luna blinked.
"Anyway, old Shadow might be a grump but he has some clever ideas in that noggin of his." He bounced in place for a moment. "And the Boss has some fine instincts about weird stuff. Helped me designed this wing and a number of other false limbs."
"False limbs?"
"Yeah, I'd say about forty percent of the civs that live here has one and at least half of our guard does." The joviality in Gear turned. "A number of enemies seem to enjoy collapsing buildings and breaking limbs."
Luna sat in silent contemplation of such thing. "I hadn't noticed."
"Good, means the designs are worthwhile." Luna watched him back up into the wing's end. Luna heard and felt the buzz of magic as the wing reattached with a click. Gear flexed the wing experimentally.
"Enough of this depressing talk." Gear grinned. "The Boss said I was to take you out."
"What?" Luna's ear went back.
"Nothing like that, Miss Prisoner." Gear laughed. "There's a lovely bar about two floors up with a fantastic veiw of the night sky. The Boss mentioned that you're probably feeling lonely and out of place."
Gear herded her with practiced ease. "Sides, the old man, Flamey, and KinGin are having a card game! You any good at Poker?"
"Poker?"