Cryo-7

by Metal Pony Fan

Nothing Ever Changes, Even Names and Faces

"ASTRAL PLANE," scrawled the words on the wall. The drone that wrote the words there collapsed after it was done.

Growl slammed her head to the desk as the video entered another loop. She must have watched the video a dozen times, looking for some clue as to just who attacked the station.

The medium used for this message? The blood of a particular criminal being housed in stasis in the morgue, one who had been killed in demonstrable self defense by the stallion whose name now bloodied Growl's office wall.

That wall was behind her right now, and the deactivated drone was being held in a forcefield under a full security team's watchful eye. They all knew about its weak spot, and a shaped charge was placed there to be remotely detonated if anything happened. Nearly every scanning resource available to the station was focused on the thing in the hopes that any signal sent to it might be traceable.

Although, given that the devices ran off a gruesome organic computer, any signal sent would likely be of a neural nature. That would make tracing it almost impossible, even with a specially trained telepath. Ribbon just wouldn't cut it. She was barely trained enough to live a normal life, and she had no training whatsoever in the field of psychic warfare, or even mental tracking.

James had returned to medical to oversee the discharge of the last of the minor injuries, and to setup up more complete care for those worse off. Somehow, they made it through without casualties, but a review of cargo bay three's security camera showed that it could have been much worse.

That dragon held back the flame of an explosive charge, the electricity of a ruptured power conduit, and the shockwave of the explosion with dragonsbreath. That is not something he should be capable of at his age or size. He had also displayed a transformation into a much larger dragon. Unfortunately, his heroic actions were cut short by shrapnel from a secondary explosion.

Growl groaned, and smacked her head against the desktop a few times. Why the hell was there an elder dragon on her station? A dragon prince! With falsified records! And he was injured in a freaking terrorrist attack on her watch! After single-clawedly saving the lives of everyone around him. This carried a very real chance of becoming a serious interplanetary incident.

And she didn't even have any leads on who was responsible! Everyone known to be connected to the guy in the morgue was in prison or dead. And she double checked that. Those thought to be dead were confirmed to be dead. Dna matches on full, recognizable bodies; no pieces recovered from a crash, trace organic residue after a shootout, burnt beyond recognition, or any crap like that.

There was only one lead, one pony to talk to now, and his name was written behind her. Who knew where in the galaxy he was at the moment.

The beep of an incoming communication disrupted her misery, and with one last groan, Growl lifted her head from her desk. Her hoof went to the control that would answer the call. "Growl here," she answered, hiding her tired frustration, "what is it?"

"Ma'am," replied whoever was on the other end, "we have a shuttle requesting permission to dock."

---

Lilybelle opened the door and dragged herself inside. She lost track of how long she was at work, but it had to be at least dinner time. She clicked the panel next to the door, checking the time. It was just about time for a late lunch.

She shook her head. The station had gone to hell and back in the space of about five hours. The explosion occured at oh-nine-fourteen surface time, and it was thirteen-fifty-seven now. She had been running around nonstop for most of that, but now that the worst of the injuries were treated, James sent her back to quarters to get a few hours to rest. She had to be back in medical by seventeen hundred.

That gave her three hours and three minutes to relax, and she wasn't planning on wasting any of it. The first thing she was going to do was get something to eat, then she was going to wash up a bit, then nap until the last possible moment.

She flicked the light on, and her to-do list rewrote itself. "What the hell are you doing here?" she shouted at the lump on her couch.

The dragon blinked, waking slowly, and stretching. His scales rippled down the length of his body, catching the light in fluid, wave-like motion. He looked over at Lilybelle, and sat up quickly, raising his claw in greeting. "Oh, um, hi." His fingers fidgeted for a moment, and he awkwardly lowered his claw. "I'm Softy, we, um, met, the other day. At the protein-pro competition? You-"

Lily raised a hoof to stop him. "I know who you are. I cracked your ribcage open with a pair of bolt cutters earlier this morning." She looked him over. There wasn't even a mark where he was flayed open. "How in the hell are you fine?!"

He pointed to the nearest bed, where a blue pony was curled up under the covers. "I'll let Annabelle explain the specifics when she wakes up, but I'm going to be your roomate for a while."

"That doesn't answer my question," Lilybelle pointed out.

"Kinda does," Softy countered. Lilybelle levelled a glare at him, and he held up a claw in defeat. "Fine, Annabelle saved my life. Well, so did the rest of you, and I'm really grateful for that. You kept me alive until Annabelle could complete the ritual."

"What ritual? If there was a dragon ritual that could instantly heal shrapnel to the heart and lungs, James would have suggested it right away." She looked at the other couch in the small foyer and contemplated taking a seat. This seemed like it was about to become a long conversation. "James used to be a scholar at a gryphon monastery, and would study with the dragons at their monastery. He's well versed in modern medical techniques, as well as ancient healing arts. Magic rituals, potions, things like that."

Softy nodded. "He's the one who set everything up so the ritual could take place. He improvised, but my clan's clerics couldn't have done a better job."

"Oh. That makes sense. And Annabelle has a good magic for things like that. It's strong, non-elemental, and she has great detail control." That reminded her of something she wanted to ask the other day. "Say, what clan are you, anyway? You mentioned being trained in magic directly by your honored ancestor, and I was wondering if it was one of the smaller clans. My magic has a really strong fire affinity, so I was kind of intrigued by the fact that you can do different things with your flames."

"Heh, yeah." Softy tapped his claws against the couch nervously. "It's a pretty small clan, I guess. Not a whole lot of members, as far as clans go. Doesn't really have a proper name either."

"Then it wouldn't really be a clan," Lily pointed out. "There's only one dragon clan without a name or title."

"Um, yeah," he sighed, "that one."

"Oh." Lilybelle climbed onto the couch. So much for getting any rest. "You're an elder dragon?"

"The youngest of 'em all, but yeah." He laid his head out on his claws. "Your next question is going to be something about why a dragon prince is on this station without an escort, bodyguard, or a procession of attendants."

Lilybelle shrugged. "I'll tell Ribbon she has some competition."

Softy smiled, letting out a single snort. "No thanks. I have a telepathic cousin, and he's a paranoid wreck because of it. Ribbon is surprisingly normal."

She shrugged. "I don't know many telepaths, so I'll take your word for it. So, how about telling me why a dragon prince is on this station without an escort, bodyguard, or a procession of attendants? And also, what exactly do you mean when you say procession?"

Softy started counting on his claws. "A procession usually consists of a cook, a money-handler, a scheduling assistant, a doctor, a general assistant for each dragon travelling with you, and a translator. Bodyguards are usually not considered part of the procession, but if you have them, an assistant carrying their additional weaponry is added. So, that's anywhere between eight and eleven other dragons following you around and doing stuff for you."

Lilybelle raised an eyebrow. "You say that so casually. So, why don't you have one of these processions?"

"Because it's pointless." He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "I'm a dragon prince, one of the heirs to the obsidian throne. But gramps isn't going to die, not within any of our lifetimes. And even if he did, he has nine children, fourty-seven grandchildren, a hundred and eighty-three great grandchildren, and two hundred and ninety-four great-great grandchildren in line before me. Like I said, I'm the youngest, the first great-great-great grandchild." With a groan he added, "I also hatched about five centuries late, so there's a few great-great-great-great grandchildren who may technically be ahead of me in line. And, as far as I've been told, my mother was from an outcast clan, so there would be plenty of dragons who would never accept me as their ruler."

"Sounds... complicated."

"It is." He folded his claws on top of his belly and sighed again. "I don't really care about any of the power struggles, pointless politics, or the chance at becoming some mid-level bureaucrat on one of the colony planets, so I left."

Lilybelle nodded slowly. "To work as a cargo handler on the smallest space station in the Canterlot system?"

"I wasn't exactly aiming to wind up here." Softy shrugged. "I was planet hopping, taking cargo vessels and shuttle services where I could, when I could. I was heading to Canterlot, and wound up here first. Took on some temp work in one of the cargo bays to make some spending money for down on the surface. First day on the job, I got into a fight with one of the other temps, and got my tail handed to me. That was Drake, you remember him, right? Spent a week working off the damages to avoid time in the brig, and we've been working together ever since. It'll be three years next month."

"A magic, transforming dragon that breathes fire got his tail handed to him by a human?" The unicorn raised an eyebrow. "And you stayed on the station after this, instead of heading down to the surface?"

"Hey," softy tilted his head back until he could see Lilybelle, "you underestimate that guy going into a fight, and he'll wipe the floor with you, magic or not. And I did, in fact, head to the surface. I just came back afterwards." He quietly added, "mostly because I was broke at the time."

Lilybelle continued to nod, listening carefully. She was starting to feel like one of those counselors she and Lilybelle used to visit while attending Luna's Academy. All she needed was a clipboard and some vanilla scented candles. "Why were you broke?"

"Because I ran away from home, and have no way of accessing my trust fund without being tracked. Also because I blew what little I did have on souvenirs and food." The dragon closed his eyes as he relived a memory. "There's some really good restaurants down there," he moaned in a low voice. "So, yeah, you pretty much know everything there is to know about me now. All that's left are the boring details of my princely training, and the family dynamics involved when you're the youngest of several hundred kids. Family reunions are corporate affairs."

He rolled back onto his belly, and propped his chin up on the arm of the couch. "So, what's the deal with you and Anna? She hasn't mentioned anything before the two of you joining Luna's academy. But you guys had to have been pretty well off as kids. As spoiled and childish as she gets sometimes, I bet your folks were rich. I want to know how you two ended up on this little out of the way space station."

Lilybelle flexed her hoof, glad that the dragon wasn't sitting closer, otherwise she might have slapped that speculating grin off his face. But, she had to remind herself, that it wasn't really his fault. He didn't know. Most citizens of the galactic assembly have a hard time even imagining the concept of slavery, much less that there are planets out there still practicing it. And, she did have to admit, Annabelle could act pretty spoiled.

"Hey," Softy sat up, head lowered and smile fading fast, "did I say something wrong?"

Lilybelle looked up quickly. She had been scowling at the floor without realizing it. "No, sorry, it's not you." She shook her head. She couldn't blame Anna for not telling him, but he needed to know if he was going to be involved with her. "She and I were born into slavery on a planet called Tankra. A lot of ponies on this station were. We were freed by a Gryphon mercenary group headed by James and Growl. This is their station. It was supposed to be a hospital, but they turned it into a refugee camp."

Softy's wide eyes blinked as she continued, "The war took several years. We ended up getting out in waves. Annabelle, and our parents, got out with the first wave. The fabric yards and mills weren't well defended, and a sneak attack managed to free half of the slaves overnight. I wasn't with them, and didn't get out until the second wave. It was a quiet war, espionage and sneak attacks, brief struggles with guards. The descendants of the goddess, as the rulers of Tankra called themselves, couldn't admit to the rest of the planet that their slaves could fight back. We took advantage of that."

Lilybelle brought a hoof to her horn, moving her mane to expose the constricted, miscolored base. "Any slaves who were unicorns had limiters burned onto their horns at an extremely young age. It takes several long, painful surgeries to remove one and repair the damage left behind, then you have to try and learn magic from scratch. Pegasi slaves had the tendons in their wings severed. Sometimes, the damage caused by that is irreparable. Anna's father was lucky enough to be allowed to keep his flight so he could make deliveries. My father will never fly again."

She took a deep breath, and started on what was probably the most important part for the dragon to hear. "The way Annabelle acts is a coping mechanism. She doesn't get close to others, and being spoiled and aloof gives her an excuse to walk away whenever she starts to feel uncomfortable." Lily was silent for a moment, unsure if she should continue without talking to her cousin first. "She, um, she was assaulted when she was really young. I don't know all of what happened, but her father saved her, and they were both publicly beaten after that. She's afraid of hooves now, and ever since then, I haven't seen her get close to another pony who wasn't family. Not to mention, she can barely even speak to stallions, unless somepony she knows is with her. And even when she does, she can't look them in the eyes."

She looked up at the drake, and offered a smile. "I was kind of happy when you two started hitting it off, because I wasn't sure Annabelle would ever be able to open up to anypony." The pony chewed her lip for a moment. "Well, I guess she still hasn't opened up to anypony, but you get the point, right? I mean, I don't even know if I should have told you all this, but I just don't want to see her get hurt. I mean, you seem nice and all, and if Anna likes you enough to go on a date with you, you can't be all that bad, but there are some things you just need to be careful about, you know? And, again, I'm not trying to scare you away or anything, but we both have a lot of scars. I mean, well, physically, I'm the one with a lot of scars, but you know what I mean. She's been through a lot already, and I don't know... I just don't know!" She brought her hooves to her face as she caught her breath. She was on the verge of tears, and more worked up than she could recall being in a long while. She just told him everything. She might have just scared off Anna's only chance at a real relationship. Or, she might have saved her from getting hurt again. There was no way to know. "Softy, you're being awfully quiet."

The drake swallowed hard, and replied, "I think I'm gonna puke."

---

Mezzo and Ribbon found a spot to sit in a quiet alcove outside medical. Things were finally slowing down, and they were able to take a much needed break. Ribbon had been busy assisting James, taking over for Lilybelle, who was run ragged then sent home to recover. Mezzo hung around as an anchor for Ribbon, to keep her from getting caught up in the pain around her. He also brought patients water, checked bandages, and generally tried not to feel useless.

By now, almost everypony was heading back to their quarters. Still moving in groups, and escorted by by security teams, but everypony understood the precaution. It also made it easier to check on everypony's safety with security teams reporting statuses to a central location. Thanks to this, Mezzo was able to make sure that Aunt Tavi made it back home well before he had time to actually call them. Once he found time, a quick call had affirmed that, not only was everypony safe at home, but also that the small scratch on Minuette's right eyebrow would not leave a scar as the filly hoped.

Even so, the colt was still considering getting her the sunglasses she wanted.

Mezzo stole a glance at Ribbon as he opened one of his ration bars. The young mare looked up when she felt it. He offered a small smile, and she returned it. They managed to clean up a little since the cargo bay, and were no longer sticky, but both their coats were very slightly tinted from the surberry concentrate. It would hopefully go away with a good shampooing. Looking away quickly, and trying to act like he didn't just imagine her in the shower, Mezzo held out the unwrapped ration bar. "Here."

"Thanks." She took it with a hoof, a slow, timid movement, trying to act like she didn't know he just imagined her in the shower. In exchange for the food, she offered up one of two pop-top cans of purified water. She swirled it in her magic first, chilling the contents with a smaller version of the spell she used in the cargo bay. She opened it with magic, then held it out in her hoof. "Here."

"Thanks." The colt reached for the can, and when his hoof brushed hers, he glanced up, only to snatch the can and look away. The moment he felt her fur wet with condensation under his hoof, the mental image became them in the shower, not just her.

Ribbon bit back a giggle as he pressed the can to his face, chilling his blush away before it could appear. The mental image wasn't as embarrassing to her, surprisingly, but that could be because the brief image involved hooves in her mane and lots of shampoo suds to get the surberry out, nothing else. It was actually kind of sweet.

She could hear the question he wanted to ask, yet tried so hard not to. She wanted to hear it from him, but she wanted him to chose to ask it. So, she decided to ask a question of her own, one that had been gnawing at her since she heard Octavia call her a friend. "Mezzo, what changed?" She cradled her own water can with both hooves, rolling it back and forth, nervously watching him out of the corner of her eye as she fidgeted. "When we first met- I mean, when you first found out I was a telepath, you would barely even look at me, much less talk to me. But then you started to give me a chance. Now, you keep looking over, and you talk to me like I'm a regular pony. What's different about me now?"

Mezzo shrugged. His nervousness spiked, and he downed a gulp of cold water. A dozen or so thoughts jumped to untangle themselves into words, and Ribbon couldn't keep track of them. The colt spoke before she could make sense of it. "Nothing, really. I guess you're the same as you were before, and I just know you better. And I realized that you can do more than take." Mezzo winced. That wasn't how he wanted it to sound, but he didn't know how else to say it. "When I learned you were a telepath, I was afraid at first. I didn't want you taking my memories. I didn't want anyone else to even know what happened, and when you started to feel the things that happened to me, I was terrified. I didn't want you to know my pain, and more than anything, I didn't want you to feel it."

Mezzo looked up at her, and she remained silent, nodding for him to continue.

He took another sip of water and stared out at the station. "That night you helped with my hoof, you saw the first time I was beaten by a Tankran Guard. But, after that, I saw one of your memories. Because of that pendant, because of whatever connection it forced on us, I saw your mother hurt and frozen in stasis." The colt sighed. "I started to see that I had made a lot of assumptions about you, and that some of them, no, a lot of them, were wrong." He took another sip. "When I woke up before you, I ignored the pain and got out of there. I needed time to think, and I wanted to spend that time alone. So, I went to that empty storefront and sat against one of the columns. That's where Growl found me."

He scratched his neck. "Yeah, she chewed me out pretty good over what happened. But, for some reason, in the middle of her listing off every crime I could be charged with, I asked her if you had any friends." He shook his head. "None of my business, I know. But, I still asked, and she got real quiet. All she would tell me is that most ponies avoid you." He looked over when he heard her can open. "I couldn't understand why. Even though I started off doing the same exact thing, I couldn't give one good reason why I treated you the way I did."

"So, I decided that I wouldn't avoid you. Even though, I still wanted to. You had your own pain to deal with, why would you want mine dumped on top of that?" He set down his drink before he could take another sip. He didn't want to empty it before he ate his ration bar. "But, I was a little... curious. At least, that's what I thought it was, Curiosity. Everything that happened strengthened that feeling. But it was weird, not like any curiosity I ever felt before. Then, in the cargo bay, that thing with our magic, I realized I was wrong. It wasn't a desire to know about you, it was just, a, um," he didn't want to say the word again, "de- desire to just know you." He started unwrapping his ration bar. "So, yeah, you aren't any different, I am. I don't see you as, 'that telepath,' anymore. You're just Ribbon, a young mare that happens to be a telepath."

She blushed in silence and slammed her ration bar into her mouth as an excuse not to respond immediately. She chewed on it for a while, along with her words. She wasn't really used to talking about her own feelings, but now that Mezzo shared his, he was silently waiting for a reaction, a response. But how do you respond to that? He got hung up on the word desire, because it was the best word to describe what he felt, even though he couldn't fully describe it to himself. He was interested in her, and trying to express that.

"I'm interested in you, too." She winced and looked the other way. She was trying to agree, trying to say something that made it clear that she understood, but she left some words out. Though, the statement wasn't exactly false.

The effect on Mezzo was immediate. In the space of a single breath, he went through three distinct moods. With a sharp inhalation, he swelled with relief and exhilaration. His conflicted thoughts were vindicated by the confession that they were shared. He held the breath at it's peak, stunned into a sudden pause by new conflicts arising. Confusion about what to do, how this would change things going forward, even confusion about what to say next. Then as the breath leaft him as a miserable sigh, he realized that she had been drawn to him first. What did she see? He was an angry, messed up colt. He had nothing to offer.

"Beyond the fact that you have the most gorgeous white fur I've ever seen, and a warhorse build straight out of ancient mythology? I mean, I can't imagine what you'll look like when you fill out as a mature stallion, but I bet that... I... should probably get to the point." She cleared her throat. "You have a lot to offer. You can cook, fight, play music, keep your cool in the face of a mutated monster that's trying to eat you, and you can keep me telepathically grounded. And really, if you think about it, you're no more messed up than I am. I mean, I should really be asking myself what I have to offer you in a relationship."

Mezzo looked down at her, mind blanked by that last word. "A relationship?"

She brought her water to lips, can shaking as she fought to maintain composure. In hindsight, that was a mistake. He watched as she took a sip, spilling some of it. He stared as the clear liquid clung to her fur, dripping from her chin. He couldn't pull his eyes away as she wiped her mouth dry with a hoof, and a scene involving a little more water than that popped up in the corner of his mind. She was more aware of anypony of the influence that hormones could have on the thought processes, and could usually ignore idle thoughts, but his were harder to dismiss. Mostly, she admitted to herself, because she had been thinking a few of her own. "Y-you're staring," she stammered out, wishing she could take another drink without him watching. Her mouth was dryer than it was before, but she wasn't about to tell him to look away. She could hear Mezzo's question return, and she knew he still hadn't looked away. "Say it."

"Ribbon?" He moved closer, scooting over so they were sitting side by side. She looked up, and he looked down. Her mind went to that moment in the cargo bay, just before she closed her eyes. But this time, he didn't raise his hooves to her cheeks. He stared into her eyes, working up the courage to speak as she gave him all the time he needed. "What are we?"

She swallowed dryly. Hearing the question, and hearing it said out loud were two very different things. Any answer she might have had prepared slipped away from her, and she said the only thing that came to her mind. "I don't know." She broke eye contact. "I mean, I'm not sure. I want to say that we're friends, at the very least, but we aren't, not quite. Whatever this is, it's different than that. But, I don't want to say it and be wrong, and Mezzo, I know you don't want to either. We're barely even letting ourselves think it." She lifted a hoof and touched Mezzo's leg. "Are we close enough to be lovers?"

Mezzo raised a hoof of his own, taking the one resting against him and holding it tight. "Do you want to be?" Her hoof gripped his tightly, and he brought his other hoof to her shoulder. She was tense, but quiet, and he understood that. He just asked a question with profound implications for both of them, one that was waiting to be asked since the cargo bay. "I've never felt like this before, and I'm kind of scared of it. I don't completely know what this is, I don't think I know how to be a coltfriend, and I don't want you to feel weird or pressured by any of this, but I do want to know more about you. I want to touch you, kiss you, talk to you, share magic, anything, as long as it's with you. You are a strong mare, with beautiful colors, and talents that I'll never possess. The more I learn about you as a pony, the more I want to learn, and the more I just... want. If you want the same, I would be willing to try."

Ribbon couldn't bring herself to look up. She knew this was coming, but that didn't mean she was prepared. "I wouldn't know how to be a marefriend, either." She didn't feel pressured by him at all. Any pressure she felt was purely the result of her own mind. She wanted him to know more about her. She wanted someone who could understand her. She wanted someone who could feel safe around her, despite her abilities. She wanted somebody she could touch, and kiss, and talk to, and not worry about scaring off just because she heard something she wasn't supposed to. She wanted all of that so badly. She wanted to stop being alone. But did she want him just as much? "Mezzo, will you let me think about this?"

He nodded. "Of course. Take as long as you need to."

Ribbon recoiled at the... disappointment? No, that wasn't it. Regret? Maybe. Whatever it was Mezzo felt, it was turned inward. He was worried that he said too much, or not enough, or the wrong thing, or the right thing in the wrong order. "No, Mezzo," she would at least try to lessen his worries, "I really do want to take you up on your offer. You're a kinder stallion than most I know. Your magic is amazing, powerful and gentle at the same time, even if you can't control it. More powerful than mine for sure. And most of all, I... I feel like I can trust you. Because of that, I want you to feel like you can trust me. I want to take things slow, and do this right."

She forced herself to look up, and he was smiling at her. It wasn't just from the ego boosting compliments either. The relief he felt knowing she felt the same in some way made up his mind for him.

Ribbon blinked. "Wait, what?" Before she could recover from her confusion, he leaned in, planting his snout against her cheek. Ribbon leaned into it, committing the softness of his lips against her fur, the spreading warmth of his nervous breath, and the taut lines of his neck muscles as he leaned over, all to memory. She suppressed a selfish whine as he pulled away. "Mezzo?"

"I'm sorry," he shrugged, trying to hide his emotions before he spoke again, "It's kind of been on my mind since you kissed me in the cargo bay. But that's it," he promised, "I'll back off, and give you as much space as you need to figure things out." He looked down at the hooves he still held, and set them back on the ground. He looked back at her with determination in his eyes as they stood separately. He still had his worries, but like she said, he wanted to do this right. "You know where to find me. Next time we see each other, we can decide what we want to do."

"Mezzo, that's great, but..." She bit her lip as she stared up at him. He was so serious and solemn now, like a character in a holodrama, that she hated to ruin the moment. "We still have another two hours before Lilybelle comes back to take over for us." His eyes searched hers for a moment, in the faint hope that she was making a joke. "No, Mezzo, we really do."

"Yeah," Mezzo muttered, stiffly turning away from her as his determined expression turned to a cringe, "so, after we're done helping James, you'll know where to find me."

She bit back a giggle as he ate his ration bar in quiet shame, reflecting on the fact that he didn't know the right way to do any of this. "Well neither do I," Ribbon said with a good deal of certainty. She downed the rest of her water, and leaned up to plant a cold, wet payback kiss on his cheek. He jumped, but his spirits were immediately lifted, exactly the reaction she hoped for. "Mezzo, I'm not thinking about if. I knew the answer to that in the cargo bay, even if I doubted myself for a little bit. I like you, and I want to be with you, I just need some time to think about how. With, you know, the way I am, we need to be careful about things."

She marched back to medical after that, forcing herself not to look back. She knew that he was watching, and would be along shortly.

Mezzo quietly watched as she walked away, heading back to medical with the empty can trailing behind her in a golden rainbow bubble. His eyes fixed on the aura surrounding the stark, barely labeled, aluminum can, letting himself gaze into the play of colors on the reflective surface as his thoughts drifted to a few hours ago.

Her magic was just as beautiful as the rest of her. Sharing in it was an amazing experience, and he would remember it for the rest of his life. He knew of sharing magic before they had done it, what unicorn didn't? But actually going through it was a far removed experience from what he imagined.

It was pretty much part of the talk you give foals when they ask where babies come from. Magic was such a fundamental part of a pony's makeup that, under certain circumstances, exchanging aura with another was an intimate act bordering on carnal. Using a spell on somepony was different, the magic was refined, focused to perform a specific task. Unless the other pony was trying to counteract the spell, or highly compatible with you, any interaction was limited to the effects of the spell. Raw magic had no such focus. You were quite literally offering up a raw portion of your very being. How it would act on the other pony depended as much on them as it did on the pony supplying the magic. State of mind, compatibility of auras, even the presence of distractions could affect what each pony would experience. Even knowing that much, he wasn't prepared for what he felt.

That first time, he just channeled a little bit of magic to her, to pull her back from the overload of pain she was feeling. It was a desparate attempt to block out what must have been hundreds of voices screaming. He hoped his thoughts and magic would be loud enough to focus her, in the way they did before. He felt very little at the time, but Ribbon must have felt something more, because it worked. She woke up.

The second time, in the cargo bay, was that what Ribbon felt from him? He remembered every detail, but wasn't sure he could fully describe it. Light, colors that washed over him, carrying the very essence of the other unicorn, similar to his own, yet different in every way. That soft caress, sparking across his skin with vibrant energy, tugging at him, making its lonely needs known as his magic surrounded it. Even thinking about it made him want to follow that pull.

Was that a true reflection of the mare named Ribbon? The caring nature? The energy behind it? The loneliness? It made sense to him. But what of his own magic? What did Ribbon feel from him? He was able to brace her magic with his own. He was able to strengthen it without taking it over, and without being taken over. She was able to guide him without controlling or being controlled.

Would they be able to do the same outside of their magic? Could they figure out a way to work together, strengthen each other, guide each other? Mezzo found himself hoping so. He had never felt this before, never even knew it was possible. He wanted to experience more, to know what could happen next. Even if he was unsure of how to go about it.

This it what it is to like somepony? She said it. She liked him. Mezzo only wished he had thought to say it back. He knew she had to have come to the conclusion already by his thoughts, but he still wanted to say it. He wanted to tell her himself. No hestiation, no prodding, no outside intervention, just him, her... and the shower?

He hung his head. That scene in his mind made a sudden reappearance and wasn't going away. But was it really that big of a deal? They were lovers now, or rather, would be, once they figured out how to go about it. It was happening, and thoughts like these would be expected, right? Surely Ribbon had some thoughts of her own. What was she said earlier? Something about staring at his muscles?

He lifted his hoof, and contemplated the leg attached to it. If you ignored the scars, you could kind of make out the muscle lines. They hid pretty well in the white fur, and you really had to look for them. His eyes followed back to his left side, the one without the large scar most ponies seemed to recognized him by. The lines there and down his stomach were better defined, if only by a little.

Maybe it wasn't that he was well muscled, but just that he was skinny? Well, maybe not skinny, that didn't describe him at all. Despite it taking two years after escaping to break him of eating until he puked, he never put on any excess weight. Then again, that was a good thing. The king was a fat bastard from what Mezzo remembered, and he wouldn't want to be anything like that. There were only three white ponies on Tankra who mattered to him. His mother, his grandfather, and the goddess. He didn't care to be similar to any of the others.

Eventually, Mezzo shrugged and gave up. Maybe he should ask Ribbon to explain? That would be part of this, right? Asking how she feels about things, and listening to her thoughts and concerns?Things would be different from now on, in ways he probably couldn't imagine. And he was looking forward to it more than he would have expected.

With a sigh, he downed the last of his water, and started his own walk back to medical, trailing an empty can and two ration bar wrappers along with with him. On the way, he gave his own aura an appraising stare. Cold white, like his fur, tinged with electric blue, and way too easy to imagine mingled with golden aurora.

Ribbon stopped the colt just outside the door, holding out a wing to block the entrance. Mezzo's eyebrows furrowed deep as his mind snapped out of daydreaming and focused on the pegasus that obviously wasn't Ribbon.

He sure looked like her. Heights were close. Colors were nearly identical. Maybe the fur was half a shade darker on this colt, but the manes were perfectly matched. No, his was just a little shorter and messier. His lips were pressed together in what would have been a sneer if the expression wasn't also forced comically high and accompanied by comically exaggerated squinted eyes. It was easy to see why she was so defensive of twins earlier. "Uh, hi, I'm Mezzo," the unicorn offered.

"Name's Radio," the colt said, not taking his eyes off Mezzo's, "and I saw you staring at Ribbon earlier. She had to have known, but she didn't say anything, change the way she was walking, or even look back. On top of that, it looked like she was smiling. That leaves me with one question. Are you dating my sister?"

"Um, no?" Mezzo took half a step back. "Well, not yet, but I'm going to be. I think. It's kind of up to her right now."

"Cool." With a shrug, the other colt's expression went from suspicious to laid back and smiling. He also turned to look inside the door. "Wait out here a second. I don't want her to see me coming."

Comments

[PrincessLunaTheGamer]

I love you for this, four chapters in one day was exactly what I needed to feel better

[Metal Pony Fan]

8500197
Just wait, there's a 21k chapter coming up. I will try and update once or twice a week again.

[PrincessLunaTheGamer]

8501041
Holy shit, really? That's amazing. I love this story and I couldn't wait for it to update again.