Cryo-7

by Metal Pony Fan

Out of Her Mind, and In Others

"Out of the way!" Ribbon had to shout those words over and over as she ran back towards the medical bay. The constant construction and reworking of the station's layout turned every walk into an obstacle course.

But, that was fine with her.

She came across a blocked catwalk on the second level of what would one day be the social district. Without a second thought, she leapt over the retaining rail, down to the main level, ignoring the surprised shouts of the crowd and continuing her run.

As long as the jumble didn't interfere with medical response times, the resulting maze was actually kind of fun. The thrill of running around, over, and sometimes even through obstacles at top speed was just so liberating. Plus, not many ponies would realize that the crazy pony barreling past them was the station's telepath. Not that it should matter in a crowd. Unless she chose to focus on a specific individual, all she really heard was chatter. Sure, really strong thoughts sort of stick out, and she could generally sense how anypony she passed was feeling, but it wasn't like she tried invade anypony's privacy.

As she cut through the center of the atrium, Ribbon made a leap over two, short, stout dragons hauling a tray of plants between them. They barely even noticed the rainbow colored blur pass over them, and they didn't notice the flower missing from the tall tiger lily in the center of their tray.

Ribbon laughed as she used her magic to tuck the spotted flower into her hair. This must be what a Pegasus feels when they fly, total freedom, and exhilaration. The unicorn took a deep breath and held it for a moment as she slowed down. She let it out in a long, drawn out sigh as she came to a complete stop.

She took a few more breaths, letting them out in short puffs as she willed her heartbeat back to a resting state. Medical was right around the corner, and she had to act professional in front of the patient, especially since it was a young foal. Appearing frantic or excited would only cause the young patient concern, and possibly cause panic.

As she calmly walked around the corner, she "listened" to the area. She could sense the pain and irritation that usually accompanied the medical, a mare had cut herself while cooking, a stallion was itching at his cast, and a human businessman was impatiently awaiting an immunization booster before heading down to the planet.

Amidst the jumble, she could sense a concentration of worry. Ribbon focused on that, and was able to make out three separate minds. The first of those she focused on turned out to be Nurse Growl, wondering what was taking that telepath so long. And, to Ribbon's confusion, swearing she would find somepony more reliable to foalsit.

The next mind was either Lilybelle or Annabelle, they were hard to tell apart sometimes. It wasn't until she wondered where Lilybelle was that Ribbon was able to identify the pony as Annabelle.

That meant that the last one would be Minuette. As she focused on the foal, she walked through the sliding glass door into the medical bay. She immediately turned around in surprise. Medical didn't have a door, at least it didn't when she left. They must have just gotten it installed. Come to think of it, the welder who was working on the entry way for the last week was nowhere in sight. He must have finished it after she left.

Ribbon shrugged it off and continued towards the source of the worry. She didn't share in the worry though. The foal wasn't in pain, and her worry seemed to be centered on, "momma's gonna be angry."

The unicorn made her way through canvas maze to the room that held the patient and her fellow nurses, putting on her best smile as she pulled aside the flap. The improvised room was set up in a standard triage layout, with a simple bed, a rolling cabinet of basic medical supplies, and a chair for a visitor. Growl and Annabelle stood on either side of the chair, neither one claiming it for themselves.

The bed was occupied by a little earth pony filly, around the age of five or seven. She was well groomed, and had a grey coat, and a darker grey mane. She wore one piece of clothing, a white collar tied with a little pink bowtie. Ribbon had seen her around the station before, usually with her mother, whom the filly resembled greatly.

Ribbon didn't waste time talking to Growl or Anna, she knew why she was here, what she was supposed to do. She walked up to the little grey filly sitting on the hospital cot. She sat down as Minuette fiddled with her little collar. "Hi there, Minuette? My name is Ribbon, how are you feeling?"

The little filly rolled her eyes.

The telepath patted the filly's charcoal-colored mane. "You don't have to, I'm a telepath. I help ponies talk when they can't do it themselves."

The filly looked up from her bowtie.

Ribbon nodded reassuringly. "Of course I'm going to help you. That's why I'm here." The unicorn leaned against the bed. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Minuette fidgeted uncomfortably.

Ribbon shook her head. "Don't worry about your mother, I'm sure she just wants you to get better."

The filly looked Ribbon in the eyes.

The telepath listened intently as the young patient recounted the events that led her there. It was always a challenge, working with the young. Their language skills were still developing, so they didn't think in terms of words or thoughts all the time. Sometimes, it was just images, or vague feelings. At one point in Minuette's explanation, Ribbon experienced something that caught her attention. It was a brief feeling of impatience, the scent of food, and the color green. But, what really caught her attention, was the bitter taste on her tongue, too strong to be imagined, but nothing she could identify.

Ribbon put her hoof on Minuette's. "Did you eat something? Something that tasted bad?"

Minuette nodded.

Ribbon blinked as another image flashed through her mind. "Wait, go back. That plant, what was it?"

The filly shrugged.

"It's ok," Ribbon said softly, "you don't have to know its name. Just think about what it looked like."

Minuette closed her eyes and thought about the plant.

The telepath concentrated on the image as it slowly faded from a shadowy memory to a clear picture of a broad-leafed plant with curly tendrils. After a few moments, its waxy, mottled coloring nearly sparkled under the bright light of a special bulb. An actual light bulb too, not an led, crystal fixture, or flouro-panel.

Ribbon looked over at Nurse Growl. "I can see it, but I don't recognize it. I've gone over the database of all the potentially harmful plants and animals on the station before, but I don't think this is on it."

Growl nodded slowly. "It could have been smuggled on. Or, it might not have been considered dangerous." She rummaged through the cabinet until she found a marker that was usually meant for marking patients. "Here." She gave the felt-tipped pen to Ribbon. "I know you can't show us the image, but I need to see what it looks like." After Ribbon took the marker in her magic, the older nurse started digging around for a piece of paper. The closest thing she found was a piece of gauze in a blank paper wrapper. She tossed it over to Ribbon. "This will have to do."

Ribbon took it and started drawing the plant. She wasn't the best artist, but she took special care to get the shape of the leaves just right. Next, she started adding tendrils, and began filling out the over all shape.

"That's enough." Growl snatched up the guaze pack and examined the drawing. "Did this plant have a light above it?" she asked Minuette. When the filly nodded, the mare tossed the drawing to Annabelle. "Get to Miss Melody's quarters, bring me that plant, you have medical authorization for search and seizure. Make sure you bring the light with it."

Anna caught the drawing in her magic and nodded quickly. "Yes, ma'am." She turned and left quickly.

Growl walked over to Minuette. "Don't worry," she told the filly, "we'll have you talking again before you know it."

There was a quiet swish as the hospital's door activated, most likely letting Annabelle out into the station. The door activated again a few seconds later. Ribbon could taste the concern emanating from the pony that just entered. It was stifling, all-consuming worry, bordering on a state of panic.

"Minuette?!" A mare called out. "I was told my daughter was brought here, where is she?"

The head nurse went and poked her head out of the curtains. "Miss Melody?" She waved the newly arrived mare over. "Over here. Your daughter is safe, so please try to relax."

Nurse growl held the curtain open, and the mare came running into the small treatment room. She very much resembled the filly on the examination bed, from her colors to her collar. Her coat was the same slate grey, and her mane was the same shade of charcoal. Even the purple-pink of their eyes was the same. The only differences, aside from their age, were that the filly lacked a cutie mark where the mother held a treble clef. That, and they wore different color bowties. The mother's tie was a vibrant blue, compared to the daughter's pastel pink.

The mare immediately ran to her daughter, sweeping her up in a warm embrace and rocking the filly back and forth. "Oh, Minuette, why'd you run off like that? I was so worried." She let the filly down and checked her over like anypony with a young foal learns to do. "Dinner was almost done, where did you go? Did somepony find you and bring you here?"

As the filly stared up at her mother, Growl placed a hoof on the mare's shoulder. "Octavia, she can't answer you right now."

The mare looked over in surprise. "What do you mean, she can't answer?"

"She can't speak at all. She's lost her voice." Growl gestured to her unicorn assistant. "This is Ribbon, our telepath. She's been helping us communicate with your daughter. Based on Minuette has told us, she seems to have eaten a Chorian Bellflower. I've already sent one of the other nurses to retrieve it."

"A Bellflower?" Octavia shook her head. "Minuette knows better than to eat anything strange. And where would she even find something like that?"

"Well," Ribbon chimed in, "based on the images and sensory impressions I got, it seems like the plant was in your quarters. Somewhere near the kitchen, maybe?"

The grey mare turned on Ribbon and shoved an angry hoof in her chest. "You go rooting around in my daughter's mind without my permission, and you don't even have the competence to do your job right?" She pushed the telepath back. "For your information, I don't own one of these bellflower things, and I would never keep something dangerous where Minuette can get to it." She kept jabbing her hoof into Ribbon's sky-blue fur, pushing her farther and farther away from the exam bed. "So you had better have some way to find out where my daughter got ahold of it, because I-"

A sharp, insistent tug at her tail froze the frantic mother mid-poke. When she looked down at her tail, she saw her daughter, straining to pull her back. The filly pulled and struggled until her hooves slipped on the metal floor and she fell back on her flank. Then, she spit out her mother's tail and stared up at her with a defiant frown.

"I..." Octavia met her daughter's eyes, and slowly shook her head. As her ire gradually faded, she closed her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said with a sigh, apologizing to the empty space that Ribbon had run crying from. "That may have been out of line." The grey mare opened her eyes and looked over, blinking in confusion at the drab canvas curtain that replaced the many-hued pony she was expecting to see. "Where did she..."

Growl stepped in and moved Minuette back onto the bed. Then, she addressed Octavia quietly, keeping her anger at her subordinate's treatment away from younger ears. "For your information, Ribbon is the best nurse we have, and the only telepath I've ever met who doesn't try to use her power for her own gain. She only did what I ordered her to do, what we needed done to make sure your daughter was safe. What if she had eaten something toxic? What if someone, or something had poisoned her? We needed answers, and Ribbon helped your daughter give them to us."

Octavia nodded slowly. "Yes, of course. It's just..."

"It's easy to become overprotective," the nurse finished. "I understand, but yelling at an overworked intern is not going to make anything better, no matter how tempting it is to do." Growl sighed and gestured to the chair. "Why don't you sit down and relax. Annabelle will be back with the plant soon enough, but we can't do anything until then."

Octavia moved the chair closer to the bed, then sat down wearily. She ran her hoof down her daughter's back, trying to calm herself as much as she was trying to maintain a reassuring presence for the filly. "I think she's taking this better than I am." After a moment of silence, Octavia spoke up. "Growl, you know I trust you. All of the Tankrit refugees do, without question. But, I've never even heard of a Chorian Bellflower before today. What makes you so sure you'll find it in my quarters?"

Growl leaned against the bed. "If Ribbon had told me it was there, that would have been enough. But that wasn't it. You see, Chorian Bellflower is one of three plants commercially sold as the Music Plant. Sound like something you would own?"

Octavia groaned and brought a hoof to her head.

Growl nodded knowingly and continued, "It's the rarest of the three, and requires very strict care, but I know you. A little extra attention to detail is nothing for a pony like you." The nurse shrugged. "It's not labeled as toxic because, technically, it isn't. The compounds that caused Minuette to lose her voice are a naturally occurring paralytic. Normally, these compounds have to be heavily, and artificially, concentrated before they would have an effect on any creature larger than, say a spice-mouse. The only exception is the day, every two weeks after the first year, before the flower blooms."

Mother and daughter exchanged glances. "There was a bud," Octavia admitted. "We were excited that it was going to flower, and I guess I spent too much time making our celebratory dinner."

"Well, that flower is also the antidote," Growl continued. "The plant concentrates the toxin when the flower bud forms, then metabolizes it into the compound that gives the flower the gold color it's named for. That compound also reverses the effects of the toxin. Some singers use Bellflower to as a natural treatment for strained voices, by taking the leaf at night, and eating the flower for breakfast the next morning."

"Um..." Octavia's eyebrows pulled together slightly. "You sure seem to know a lot about this, 'rare,' flower."

Growl nodded. "Of course I do. I'm from Choria. Bellflower may be the single least dangerous thing on the planet, but it was also quite useful."

"Useful, how?" Octavia asked.

The nurse grinned. "Miss melody, surely you remember those poison darts I used on Tankra?"

A short laugh escaped the grey mare. "I should have known. Well, once Minuette gets her voice back, you can keep the plant. And it's not Melody anymore, I changed my name back to Philharmonica."

"I was wondering how long it would take." She looked over at Minuette. "Did you change hers too?"

Octavia shook her head. "Not yet, and I'm not sure I will. Her brother hasn't expressed any interest in changing his, and they're pretty close. I'll talk it over with him and Vinyl, but their names will probably stay the same."

Growl nodded lightly as she listened, tilting her head to the side as the conversation brought up the other members of the former Melody clan. "I haven't seen her brother in a while. How is the colt?"

"He's been good." Octavia smiled. "He should be getting off work any moment now."

---

Octavia was a little off. The colt's shift had ended a few moment's ago. Growl was a little off too. He couldn't really be called a colt anymore. He wasn't quite fully-grown, but he still stood as tall as the average stallion. And years of hardship had made him more than strong enough to handle anything life on this station could throw at him.

The young unicorn stallion stood in the center of manufacturing bay zero, motionless and listening as his coworkers shuffled out of the neatly arranged workshop. The bay and the workshop, while used interchangeably by most station residents, were two different things. The manufacturing bay consisted of five separate rooms. Of those, the largest room, was the workshop.

Forming a sixty meter square, the workshop was the room workers spent most of their time in. Tables in the center of the room formed workstations that could be used for separate projects. Each one had a set of common tools with it, and the tables could be moved around as needed, or even folded up for storage. Around the outside of the room, larger, specialized tools stood at the ready. The instruments ranged from cutting and milling machines, to fused deposition units, to electrochemical processors, and there was never more than two of any one type.

The other four rooms were much smaller. The second and third largest rooms were the same size, both twenty meters by thirty. One was storage, and held a variety of materials, parts, and tools. The other was a clean room, guarded by an antechamber based on the dreaded Dempsey chamber. The last two rooms were there for the worker's needs. One was a basic washroom, and the other was a break room. Both were floored with a basic tile instead of the metal plating in most of the station, balancing the desire for the rest areas to be different from the workspaces with the need for easy cleaning.

Of the rooms, the break room was the only one that didn't branch off from the workshop. Instead, it served as the entrance, standing between the lower level maintenance corridors and the workshop. The break room floor stood ten centimeters above the workshop floor, and the transition was preceded by a one meter patch of drab, abrasive carpet. This kept dirty hooves, shoes, and claws from tracking dirt and oil around. Also in the break room, couches, tables, and entertainment screens accompanied a full kitchen setup, creating a small home away from quarters for the workers to relax in.

Right now, the break room served as a portal, an exit ,as everypony shuffled out into the cramped halls of the station's lower levels. Most walked with the slow, plodding pace brought by the work day's end and lamented its length. Others trotted out out, joyous and fervently chatting about what they would do with the free time they now had. Still others walked with no discernible pacing and aimed backwards glances at the place they left, gossiping about the weirdo who decided to stay late.

A single, solitary colt, working alone and targetted by stares and mumbles. He didn't really care about any of it, but he was aware of it. They could talk about him as much as they wanted. Right now, they were just background noise, fading into the hum of equipment.

There was a new piece of machinery today, a compression anvil, and it was still running. It was a beast of a machine, made to apply massive amounts of heat and pressure on metals in order to create blocks of the highest purity and uniformity for later tooling. If you used the right mineral compounds, you could even create artificial gems and glass that were perfect for optics and magically-assisted machinery. Best of all, it did its work with a solid, one-two-three beat that any waltz would envy.

Actually, the machine had been installed a week earlier, but he had only gotten to play with it today. And play he did. He had been preparing compounds and mixtures for a month in anticipation of this day. Most of them turned out to be useless, but a few had turned out pretty well. It would take a few weeks of analysis before he could start refining anything, but he could be patient. He had plenty of things to do in the meantime.

Such was life in the main prototyping bay. Unlike the two secondary units, which were dedicated to plastic parts modeling, the workers in this one, also called the customization bay, could be called on to do anything. From creating a new toy, to recreating parts from a two-thousand year old freighter, this bay took on all kinds of jobs.

The young stallion ran a grimy white hoof through his oil-splotched, electric-blue mane. He wouldn't trade this job for anything. As filthy and grueling as it may be at times, it was something he knew and loved to do. Getting paid to do it for a change was a huge plus. As was being able to create anything he wanted, including weapons and communications equipment, without the constant threat of torture.

Some of the other refugees thought he was crazy for choosing to do the same work he had in the prison camps. A few counselors had even called it into question, wondering if he had just never let go of things. But the act of building something was never related to his imprisonment in his mind.

He laughed as he thought about it. He had secretly built weapons and, at his mother's suggestion, musical instruments, radios, and transmitters while on tankra. Being able to do all that and more without hiding was the greatest thing ever.

The compression hammer slowly ground to a halt, ending the industrial waltz that had kept the colt entertained. He pranced over to the device, unable to contain his excitement as he waited to see what became of his last mixture.

He located the dispenser, where the material slugs were deposited after processing, and waited. This last mixture was the one he worked hardest on. Chemistry was never his strong suit, but he had put a lot of research into getting everything just right.

A blue cylinder dropped into the tray, and the pony shouted. "Yes! Whoo!" It worked. All the planning had paid off, all the chemicals he ordered, and painstakingly mixed had blended perfectly. He picked the disc up in his magic as if he were handling the shell of a gossamer beetle, treating it as if it would disintegrate at the slightest shock even though enough nothing could be farther from the truth.

The tiny disc, one centimeter thick and three across, was a flawless sapphire. Such a gem would be suitable for any number of uses. It could be cut, polished, and turned into jewelry, or it could be used as a window in a high pressure application, like an engine core or ship exterior. Though, it was a little small for those last two, and it was tinted, rather than clear. He had also tampered with the chemical composition a little, so instead of the normal sapphire blue, it was a little lighter, matching his mane.

He didn't dare touch the thing, as filthy as he was. He wanted it to stay nice and clean. It was meant to be a piece of jewelry after all. He slid a small duffel bag out from under the work table beside the compression anvil. It was mostly full of empty containers, containers which once held the mixtures he ran through the anvil. But, there was also a velvet jewelry box.

He opened the box and pulled out the unfinished necklace within. Again, he used his magic to avoid sullying the metal. At the end of a thin, simple chain, hung a gold ring edged by a pair of golden wings.

On the ring, four unbent retaining tabs surrounded an opening the same diameter as a young unicorn's horn. The young stallion pressed his sapphire disc into the opening and folded the thin prongs down. After that, he held the pendant up by the chain, letting it slowly twist and catch the light as he admired it.

It had come out even better than he expected it to, a beautiful piece of jewelry born from the instruments of slavery. He had always wanted to make something out of the limiter he was forced to wear on Tankra, and finally, he had. Now, the only question was, what would he do with it?

He sighed and put the chain and charm back in their box. He supposed he could wear it after he cleaned up. But he wouldn't be able to wear it at work, not without it ending up a filthy mess. He could give it to somepony instead, but he wasn't sure who. His mother wasn't one for fancy stuff, but his sister, Minuette, and Octavia were. Still, he had never seen either of them wear jewelry, just different color bowties. He could always give it to his marefriend, but that would require getting a marefriend in the first place.

He set the box back in his duffle bag and hooked the bag over his neck, letting it hang in front of him. One of his human coworkers said the way he held the small bag reminded him of some earth saint named Bernard and who carried a barrel. He laughed, just like he did every time he thought of it. A human would look ridiculous carrying a barrel around his neck like that.

His laughter died when the lights did, at exactly nineteen-thirty station time, leaving him in darkness. "Ah! Shoot!" He ran for the faint, lit outline of the bay doors. "It's my turn to cook!"

The doors slid open as he barreled straight at them, revealing the outline of a pony he didn't. She was a brightly-colored unicorn, either an older filly, or a really young mare. But, more importantly, she was in the way, and he couldn't stop.

He slammed into her at full speed. With the difference in height, her horn tore into his duffle bag and tangled there as he came crashing down on top of her and they slid out into the corridor. Empty containers scattered across the floor along with the two ponies.

Before the colt could get off the the other pony, he was bodily lifted into the air, with the rainbow-maned unicorn bench-pressing him up. She held him up and shook the remains of his duffle bag of her face. "I'm so sorry," she cried, tears running down her face. "I shouldn't even be here. Please don't get mad at me."

The colt had to stare down at the other unicorn for a moment before he remembered that she was holding him up and he needed to move. "N-no! It's ok," he said as he scrambled off of her, "I should be the one apologizing." He helped her up quickly. "You're crying, are you hurt?"

"Huh?" She sniffed and rubbed at her face, wiping the tears from her face. "No, I'm ok. You weren't all that heavy." She looked around her, at the scattered containers littering the cramped hallway. There were all sorts of them, from foal-food jars, to mane-gel tubs, and even a few hoof-polish bottles. "What's going on? I was trying to get away from everypony, then I started following some music, but it's gone." She rubbed her head and horn. "I guess I got scrambled again. Does that mean somepony was imagining it?"

"What the..." The colt shook his head. "Anyway, I'm Mezzo, Mezzo Forte Melody. And you are?"

"Cute?" Ribbon shook her head quickly, making herself a bit dizzy. She grabbed her face to stop it, and stared at the other unicorn. "Everything's fuzzy, but you really think I'm cute?"

Mezzo's eyes widened and he took half a step back, keeping one hoof up like he was preparing to run. "Uh, well... Sure?" What was she asking that for all of a sudden? "I guess?"

To the young stallion's discomfort, Ribbon didn't respond. She just kept staring at him, mouth hanging partway open like she wanted to say something. Then, she suddenly shook her head and ran down the hall. "Excuse me!" Mezzo watched, dumbfounded, as she stopped at a maintenance closet a short distance away, and ducked inside. As soon as she was in, and the door slid shut, she let loose with a loud, filly-like squeal that echoed through the hallway. "He thinks I'm cute! Ohmigosh! Ohmigosh! Ohmigosh! He really thinks I'm cute! And it's not a trick to get me into bed like it was with that dirtbag, Soaker. Or that idiot Coal Dust. Or Block! Ugh, Block Head was the absolute worst! Just because he was top of the class, he thought he could just get any mare he wanted."

"What?" Mezzo whispered to himself as Ribbon continued her tirade. He stared at the closet door a little while longer before gathering up the scattered containers. He stuffed them into his torn bag as best he could and started walking down the hall. He paused in front of the closet and waited for the rainbow filly inside to finish ranting about all the colts who called her cute before. "Um, I've got to go," he said, with some hesitation, but raising his voice loud enough to be heard through the door. "But it was, um, nice, meeting you. Very, uh, interesting." Mezzo sighed quietly. "Yeah... Well, bye."

Inside the closet, Ribbon buried her face in her hooves. She was blushing furiously and slumped against the door. "He heard that. He heard it all." She groaned quietly. "Why? I finally met a guy that legitimately thinks I'm cute, why did I have to embarrass myself like that?" She sighed. "At least he doesn't know my name." She gasped. "He doesn't know my name! And I don't know his! I know he introduced himself, but I wasn't paying attention!"

Ribbon scrambled to her hooves and rushed out into the hall. The young stallion with the blue mane was gone. "Hello?" The young mare called out in desperation. "If you can hear me, my name is Ribbon! I'm one of the nurses, so you can find me in medical!" She listened for a response, any response, either sound or thought. She was greeted only by silence and void. The young stallion must have left at a full run, because he was out of range of both her ears and mind.

Though, her mental reach was still greatly reduced from that blow to her horn. She rubbed gingerly at her horn. Why were there so many glass bottles in that gym bag?

Quiet music answered her musings. She looked up and down the hall in surprise. The music she had followed down here was playing once more. Then again, it might not have stopped. It was possible that the music came from some pony's thoughts, and her scrambled telepathic sense was returning.

But, who could it be coming from? Creative expression usually creates strong thought patterns, but there was nothing alongside the music, no stray thoughts, none of the concentration that normally accompanied a performance. It was pure music, beautiful and emotional, with nothing unnecessary.

Ribbon stared down the hall. If anypony had seen her, the blank stare on her face would most likely have caused concern. After a few moments, she got up and started walking. She couldn't remember having sat down, but she must have. What was this music? It was so... captivating. It demanded her attention while feeling like it was avoiding her. A simple melody, a sweeping symphony, all tied to the rhythm of machinery and simple feelings. Hope, sadness, joy, the music swirled through all these, sinking into despair, only to rise in a swell of uplifting delight.

Ribbon walked into a wall, smacking her nose against the cold metal paneling and leaving a smear. She shook her head quickly, forcing herself back to reality. As soon as she saw the clear streak of liquid on the wall, she wiped a hoof at her nose. It was wet. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes with her other hoof. She was crying? Why? Was it because of the music?

She did her best to remove all traces of tears and... well, mucous discharge, from her face. She knew she wasn't the most emotionally stable pony around, but she still prided herself on not crying in public. At least, not crying in public very often. At the very least, not more than once a week. Absolutely not more than twice a week.

Ribbon wasn't even sure how long she'd been walking. For all she knew, she was halfway across the station. She looked behind her. The maintenance closet, the one she had ducked into earlier, was a few meters behind her.

The young mare buried her face in her hooves. How out of it do you have to be to walk straight down a hall and into a bulkhead? At least no pony was there to see it.

A burst of static sent Ribbon's heart up into her throat and set her fur on end. "Hello? Ribbon?" Nurse Growl's voice came through the intercom. "Are you all right?"

"Yes!" The younger nurse yelled far too quickly. "I'm just fine!" She looked up at the ceiling and saw the dark glass dome of a security camera. "Um, how much of that did you see?"

"Enough to see you shambling down the hallway like a drunken zombie." The camera whirred as it adjusted, zooming in Ribbon. "Are you crying? What the hell are you even doing down there? That's a restricted area, authorized personnel only. Technically, you're authorized, but the security algorithm flagged you, tagged your behavior as consistent with a pony under chemical influence. After what I saw, I have to ask, is that true?"

"No!" Ribbon shook her head. "It's just... How do explain this? Um, I was listening to music."

The camera whirred again, zooming in even further. "I don't see any ear buds or headphones. You do know that station personnel aren't allowed to have frivolous implants?"

Ribbon waved a hoof in front of her, shrugging off Growl's implications. "I don't have an entertainment implant. It's, um, the music isn't exactly real."

"Not exactly real." Nurse Growl repeated in a deadpan tone. Ribbon could almost feel Growl staring at her through the camera. "How does that work?"

The colorful unicorn scratched at her mane. "Well, it's real, but... I believe it's some sort of... psychic phenomena?"

A loud sigh issued from the hidden speakers. "Anything I need to worry about, or should I just chalk this up to you being you?"

Ribbon chuckled self-consciously. "That last one, I guess."

"Eh, whatever." The young nurse could almost hear her boss shrug. "Just quit hanging around restricted areas unless you have a reason to be there. Oh, and stop by the security office the day after tomorrow. Mr. Plane just left us a rather interesting gift, and I want you to handle it."

She signed off with a loud burst of static before Ribbon could respond, leaving the colorful mare alone in the hallway. Alone, with nothing but the music to keep her company. It hadn't stopped, but it didn't seem as loud when she wasn't focused on it. Was it responding to her in some way?

She definitely got that impression. Now that she was focused on it again, it was growing louder. It was different though, the simple melodic overtones were replaced by upbeat, energetic percussion. It sounded like a hundred hooves stomping out a victory dance. She also got the distinct impression that whatever was causing the music was behind her, very close, but still behind her.

She turned back to look. The hallway was empty. "Hello? Is there some sort of non-corporeal entity in this area?" She felt silly asking that, since there hadn't been a report of NCE sightings in this system in the last two centuries. But still, she had to cover the possibility, at least according to her mentalism professor. She might even get extra credit for her distance courses for this.

After a little searching, she found a small box wedged in a damaged floor vent. It was covered in a burgundy velvet material, like a jewelry box. She carefully worked it out with a hoof, preferring to avoid touching it with magic. She couldn't be sure it was related to the music she was hearing, but it was such a random coincidence that she wasn't about to risk it.

After a few seconds of careful maneuvering, the box was free of its prison and nestled safety in Ribbon's hooves. She turned it over, inspecting the outside surface. Its time in the vent had left it with a few tears and scratches, but no apparent structural damage. Whatever was inside was most likely intact.

She didn't know what was inside though. It was most likely a piece of jewelry, given the design of the box. But, why would a piece of jewelry cause psychic phenomena?

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and got ready to open it. "I know it was just a movie, but please don't be a face-melting religious artifact." With a little pressure, the box popped open with a soft creak. The absence of bright lights and screeching prompted the young mare to peek out of one eye.

Both eyes snapped wide open when she saw the necklace within. "Holy crow, this is nice." She stared into the clear blue gemstone in the center of the winged pendant. "I sure would like to be the pony on the receiving end of this gift." She ran a hoof over the azure-colored stone.

She then thanked the shopkeeper for the great deal he gave her on the last bunch of non-reconstituted carrots. She stuffed the nearly fresh vegetables into her gym bag and set off for home, still mentally kicking herself for not catching that cute filly's name. Sure, she was a little odd, maybe a bit ditzy and out of it, but her smile... It was a beautiful smile. It was the kind of smile you could only have after being put through the worst life has to offer. The smile of somepony who's learned just how good everything else is in comparison. Maybe she would be able to understand.

"What the hay?!" Ribbon yanked her hoof back, dropping the box and pendant. While the box clattered, the pendant bounced of the metal floor plates with a high-pitched clinking noise. Ribbon dove for it, catching it before it could bounce again.

As she walked past the cafeteria, the smell of greasy, fried food assaulted her nose. The smell made her hungry after the double shift she put in, and made her regret skipping lunch to monitor the anvil. But she couldn't stop now. She was already late for her turn to cook, and there would be two hungry mouths waiting. Three, if mom came back from her hunt on time.

Ribbon forcibly pulled her mind back to herself. It wasn't easy, but mention of mom was enough to help her break free. Pendant still in hoof, she scrambled for the box. The moment she got hold of it, she crammed the necklace into the box and sandwiched it shut between her hooves.

With tears in her eyes, she stared at the box. "You're the one who wouldn't understand!" She screamed at it. "My mom can't come back that easily!" She slammed the box to the floor and sat down next to it, almost curling up into a ball.

She sat there and cried for a few minutes, eventually calming down enough to look over at the box. "At least I know what's going on now." She sniffed loudly and tried in vain to compose herself. "But, why would that colt have a psychic amplifier? And why is it linked to him?"

With a sigh, Ribbon got up, dusted herself off, and scooped up the box. It was now emanating a smooth relaxing jazz tune, but as long as she didn't touch the pendant directly, she should be safe from randomly connecting to that colt's thoughts. She transferred the box from her hoof to her mouth so she could carry it while walking and set off for her quarters.

Her quarters were, out of necessity, in a relatively secluded section of the station. Even with magical shielding, most ponies didn't want the rooms next to hers. When she was in regular quarters, everpony around her would request alternate quarters, usually citing privacy concerns.

The worst part was, she always tried, really tried, to protect every pony else's privacy. It was hard for her, but she tried her hardest not to read thoughts without permission. And she never, absolutely never, tried to influence some ponies thoughts or dig up memories against their will.

That was why she was headed to her quarters with the pendant. Aside from the fact that she was a complete mess from crying and wanted to hide it, she had to protect that colt's privacy. If somepony got their hooves on this necklace, there was no telling what could happen to him. It wouldn't even have to be a telepath for the pendant's link to its owner to be abused. Any reasonably skilled unicorn could take advantage of it with a few simple spells.

But, why would that colt have such a powerful psychically charged object? Did he even know the implications of owning such an object? Given the way it was haphazardly left behind, he might not even realize the power it held.

She had to get it back to him. This simple necklace was a doorway, one that led straight into his mind, his thoughts, his very soul. He needed to be aware of that, and she needed to be the one to tell him.

She had already invaded his thoughts. She had to let him know. She had to apologize. Even if he hated her afterwards, she couldn't keep what happened a secret.

Before she knew it, Ribbon was standing in front of the door to her quarters. She hung her head low and sighed wearily. All she had left to do was inform Growl of the security ramifications of what she was about to do. Then, she could set out to return the charm.

She entered her access code on the keypad next to the door. With a happy chime, the door slid open. Ribbon trudged right on in, past a thin ribbon of light, into the darkness beyond.

Once she was past the magical shield, the music coming from the box faded. It didn't completely disappear, but it was much softer now. It was almost like a music box playing a lullaby, a calming, soothing melody that seemed to melt away the stress of the day.

Without turning on the lights, Ribbon felt her way over to her desk and set the jewelry box down before making her way to the bed. She crawled up and flopped down on her belly, mentally making a list of everything she needed to do after a quick nap. After all, today was... kind of... a long...

Comments

[KarmaDash]

Loved this chapter

[Moongaze14]

Nice chapter.

[TheStratovarian]

The interesting side notes of psychic imprinting.

[Metal Pony Fan]

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Thank you all. I had a ton of fun writing this one. Life aboard Canter Station Delta will continue to be a big part of the story, mostly filling in while the heroes are traveling over vast interstellar distances, but the next chapter puts our small crew planetside. Hope you're looking forward to it, and thanks again for reading.

[Timuri]

Powerful psychic imprint left on an object that is both a reminder of his enslavement and the joy of his liberation? Yeah, I can buy that.

And apparently Octavia and Vinyl join the list of Ponyville residents no longer frozen, and had a pair of children together. Magic was undoubtedly involved.

[The Chronicler]

Okay, I'm confused. Are the residents of Ponyville frozen or not? I was under the impression they were all together on the same ship, but they seem to be scattered all around... having been awake for at least a few decades after so many thousand years? Or are they doppelgangers? Is this a conspiracy within a conspiracy?

[Draco Dei]

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I am not sure if their children were with each other?