Salvage a Better Life

by law abiding pony

12: Xenotype

For a single frigate, the broken hulk of Ponipolous was a treasure trove. At the time of its destruction, the navy still had the capability to recover the bodies and had stripped away the easily accessible fuel and supplies.

What was left for the Akira were smaller quantities of everything. Smaller civilian docking berths still had some gasps of fuel left, a dozen drones left their berths from the Akira. Small little things, barely more than a motor, battery, and sensor package that were released inside the lifeless hulk of Ponipolous to avoid activating the mines.

With Wire and Winter off to search for food, that left Wiggly to search for the laundry list of parts and materials the frigate needed to be brought back up to specs. The sheer scale of the repairs needed for the Akira to be restored threatened to overwhelm Wiggly. The Jumper was a wreck, but the Akira’s going to need the whole engine room replaced. How in blazes am I going to pull that off?

The security center she sat in was a cramped room towards the stern of the Akira. Mote had gone off to explore the ruins which left Wiggly with Morales who was the one controlling the drones.

Wiggly absently watched the monitors, a pall of foreboding lording over her as the only one among the crew possessing any talent with a wrench. Fixing something is one thing, but to replace a whole engine room? The euphoria of escaping the moon had waned, and the reality of the work ahead of her had smacked her in the face. The foundries of Ponipolous were cold wrecks. If there was to be a new engine room, it’d have to be made from whatever pieces she could find from scratch, or more dauntingly try to resurrect one of the great foundries. All by myself? No else here could have a ghost of a chance helping with that.

“This looks promising,” Morales stated with hope, breaking Wiggly from her ruminations. “It matches the description you gave.”

Dragged from her brooding thoughts, Wiggly floated into the air to see. One of the drones had been picking through a spare parts store, and had one highlighted. “Yeah. Good find, we’re going to need at least five of those.”

“Perfect. I’ll mark this location for later.”

Wiggly studied the various camera feeds trying to find something. “What we really need is to access the central computer. We’ll need it to upload the schematics of a replacement engine room.”

“In a place like this? I hope you can point me in some kind of direction.” He shot her a thin smile. He found her charming enough, and couldn’t complain about her company. A shame she’s got four legs though.

“No idea. Send a few drones to the commons area. There could be an information center there.”

“Rightio.”

As she watched him over the next few minutes, jealousy tugged at her once again. I wish I could command a cloud of drones. By Luna’s stars, I’d settle for just being able to interface. Suppressing a need to groan, she allowed weightlessness to drift her away from the console. I’d settle for a datalink at the very least. Her gaze over Morales’ tail and the tendril linking him to the console before him. Finally taking an actual look at it, an idea popped in her mind as she realized how organic it was.

“Say…Morales?”

He briefly looked away from the monitors before going right back to keep one drone from flying straight into a steel beam. “Yes?”

“You say cathrex use genetic engineering for all sorts of things. Does that include what we ponies use cybernetics for?”

Glad that he was presently turned away from her, Morales grew a bit nervous. “We - yes, that’s right.” With her fellow ponies being cyborgs, he feared the question that was sure to come.

Sprocket felt the need to be careful. “Could you adapt that sorta thing for me, without making me a cathrex?” She felt as though it was a difficult request to fulfill. The accord between them was a marriage of convenience, but to share such genetic technology with her felt almost too monumental for her to ask in the first place.

Stunned by the unexpected direction she went with, Morales paused all the drones so he could give Sprocket his full attention. “You want me to weave your strands?”

Blushing a bit, Wiggly averted her gaze and nervously played with her mane. “Well. It’s - yes, I do. Because I can’t be cyberized.”

Tilting his head in growing curiosity, Morales hummed in realization. “So that is why you are clean.”

“Clean?” It was an old slur, one she had heard in old media, and it made her unease.

Fearing he might have caused an insult, Morales coughed hard. “My apologies. I simply mean free of machine and metal.”

Obviously. Deciding to feign ignorance, she gave a disarming snort. “Ah.” Sprocket looked back over to him with a dash of hope. “Yeah. It’s my tribe. The same thing that lets me live so long also makes implantation, errr… ill advisable. Deadly even.”

So that is why she avoided the same mistake as her kin. Your ‘allergy’ is a blessing in disguise. His own distaste for cybernetics aside, Morales was not blind to the prevalence of cyberization among the Initiative. He could not recall any character on the holovids lacking a datajack at the very least. Save for other pegacorns now that I think about it. Masking it all, Morales adopted a contemplative look. “I can see how troublesome that can be. It must feel as if you are missing a -” He wanted to say arm, yet bare caught himself. “A leg.”

“Exactly!” Wiggly corrected her drifting to float eye to eye with him. “I’ve just had to live with it ya know? Like an earth pony lives with no magic or flight. But cyberhorns have been a thing for centuries and if you’re rich enough, wing implants that mimic my natural ones are plentiful enough. Even if I owned a planet I couldn’t use any of that.”

Morales rubbed his chin and his tail flicked back and forth from thought. “So a three legged pony wishes to run. I wouldn’t not be against assisting you in this matter. Still… Were you a fellow cathrex, I would do this without recompense. But since our two peoples have no treaty together…”

He let the sentence hang, clueing Wiggly in quick smart. She had not expected it to be free, but it had been a thin hope. “What do you want?”

Growing a touch nervous, Morales wrung his hands and briefly glanced away. “I am not entirely familiar with how ponies run their ships, but with the Combine, the captain’s word is law. Especially since we are far from Cathrex space. Mote and I have no say in what conflict the captain chooses to enter.”

A shiver ran down Wiggly’s spine as she imagined if their circumstances had been reversed. “I’m not a sailor. Civilians who don’t want to fight can demand to be let off at the nearest port if a fight can be realistically avoided.”

“A right Mote and I would have likely exercised were we not so very far from home.”

Nodding with a solemn frown, Sprocket took a risk and laid a hoof on his arm. “I won’t take you into a battle you don’t wish to take part in.”

Moved by both the offer and the physical touch, a thread bare smile appeared on the doctor’s muzzle. “I appreciate the offer, but… how can I put this properly.” He vigorously rubbed his mane trying to marry both cultures in his head. “The Combine sacrificed much to survive. Our people, our dignity, and first among it all was our honor.” He sighed heavily. “We wish to reclaim that honor, and if that means I die for a just cause, then so be it. All I ask is that you ensure our fights are noble.”

The request felt heavy to Sprocket. Joining the navy had been a flash in the pan idea, but now that she had a ship again, combat was not on her agenda. So she fixed him with a firm stare. “You have my word.”

A pleased, and no small amount of relief, smile crossed his lips. “Once we break for lunch we’ll go to the lab to see what needs to be done. And,” he started with a hungry look towards the door. “That leftover soup sings to me. We can discuss exactly what you want while we eat.”

Quickly growing ecstatic, Wiggly quickly followed after him. “I don’t have my brother’s skills with a spatula, but I’ve been reheating his stuff long enough to know how to keep the flavor intact. Actually… Let me talk to Wire before we get started. If I just spring this on him, I’ll never hear the end of it.

---

Deep within the confines of Ponipolous, Winter and Wire grunted with effort as they muscled a stubborn metal door open. Surprising them both, the hiss of venting atmosphere greeted them upon cracking it open.

Once that first crack was made and the air pressure faded, pushing the door open wide proved much easier. “Kinda wish I knew how to use Wigg’s scanner,” Wire mused as the couple moved inside. “It’d’ve made air pockets easier to deal with.”

Tugging along a trio of power packs, they pressed inside. Their helmet lights ran across the interior, revealing an intact up-scale restaurant. Aside from the disruption caused by decompression, chairs were still restrained to the top of tables or the bar. No silverware was to be found, and not one light had been on when the power went out.

Winter glanced around, looking for the entrance to the kitchen. Flashes of dogfighting and frantic transmissions echoed distantly in her ear. “I remember the battle. It was early local morning when the Ruby Navy hit. A place like this would have been closed.”

An idea crossed Wire’s mind and he grinned broadly. “Say, this is a kirin barbecue joint. I bet they have gas and wood stoves for that authentic flavor. Do you know how expensive those kinds of low-G stoves can go for?”

“Haven’t the foggiest,” Winter answered truthfully. “But today, I believe we’re here for the salvager’s discount, yes?”

Thankfully for them both, there were no bodies amidst the restaurant, allowing both of them a chance to reminisce in peace. Memories of better times came to them both as they propelled themselves through the dining area. Winter could see upscale diners at a glance looking cordial and friendly. She tried to ignore knowing better and how many of those conversations were filled with deal making and back stabbing.

Live Wire’s recollection was much cloudier. He vaguely remembered loud rooms filled with chatter, laughter, and so many delicious smells that sparked his love of cooking. As they passed a table, he imagined with a smile of a family of four praising food that he cooked.

In a much better mood than his marefriend, he dropped his tail over her back, an act that had replaced nuzzling while in environment suits. “What do you think? We ditch the salvaging gig, and open a restaurant together.”

The sentiment brought some much needed warmth to her, and Winter rested a wing on him. “Only if we make it a flying restaurant, going from star to star.”

A massive grin crossed his muzzle. “That’d be perfect. We could convert the Akira into that. Add in a repair bay for Wiggly to run her own shop, and we’d be set. Not to mention we already have plenty of room for a family.”

Stepping into the kitchen, Winter Gale was already seeing her mother’s disappointment. The thought of it produced a rebellious grin. Marrying a chef of all ponies, oh how she would fuss. “Sounds like a good life to me.”

In the gloom, Wire’s light passed over the freezer and he waved Winter towards it when a call materialized in his vision. As he answered, Wiggly’s destiny mark appeared. <What’s up, clown? Find anything?> He motioned to Winter he was on a call, to which she saluted before wandering off to look for preserved food.

<If I’m a clown, you’re a congested chef.>

<You can do better than that,> Live Wire stated with dramatic disappointment.

A pouty huff heralded her grumbling response. <They can’t all be winners. Anyway, stop distracting me.> Wiggly paused to collect herself, long enough for Wire to point Winter towards the pantry. <So. You know how much of a pain it is not having a datalink?>

Live Wire stepped into the freezer and was elated by the stock he found. This place must have received a shipment not too long before the attack. Trying to split his focus wasn’t easy as he checked various meats for damage. <Yeah. You always have to use goggles. Why?>

Wiggly Sprocket explained her plan with Morales and there genetics lab as tactically as she could, but no amount of care was going to stop the, <you what?!>

<It’s a good idea,> she interjected with an attempt to calm him down.

Live Wire was flooded with nightmares of his sister being controlled by Morales or being turned into a monster. <Absolutely not!>

The vitriol in his voice irked her. <Look, I don’t see a workable alternative,> Wiggly tried to press before Wire could get any angrier. <I can’t remake an engine room by myself. I barely trust myself to do it right, let alone any of the rest of us. If I get a datalink, I could command a bunch of drones to fill the gaps.>

Live Wire was so worked up he was pacing in circles. <You don’t need to do something this dangerous! We have power now, we can call one of the stations or even the navy to come and help us out. I guarantee the navy would since we can leave the system to get help.>

<We’ve been over this, broham. The navy has the Rainbow Dash and that’s basically it unless Winter’s been holding out on us. If we make the call, the pirates will hear it too, and they’ll ambush the Dash. They already made a move on her once already.> Wiggly wished she had her goggles so she could glare him down. <We have a perfectly reasonable solution right here that doesn’t risk the only ship the navy has left.>

Growling his frustration and spinning in place as the growl became a shout, Live Wire stopped suddenly to focus. <Reasonable my tail! Just - just promise me you won’t do anything without me there.>

Breathing a sigh of relief, Sprocket was thankful she could avoid the headache that had been looming. <Deal. We still need to hybridize it and the computer has to simulate it a bunch to work out any defects.>

<Yeah well make sure he doesn’t add in any ‘defects’. And if you don’t, I will. See ya soon.>

<Kisses, love you, bye! Oh, and bring back something rich to eat. I’m thinking prime rib with shiitake mushrooms.>

In no mood to go specialty shopping anymore, Wire put his hoof down. <Well tough luck, because we found a barbecue place.>

<I like ribs as much as the next starved mare, but those take too long to cook. Even I know that.>

He snorted dismissively, trying to hide his further irritation at her correctly guessing his meal plan. <I promised Winter ribs, and I’m set on it too…> He audibly grumbled as Wiggly’s point lingered and he could just see her smug look. <Tomorrow. I’ll get something quick for tonight, and I don’t want a word out of you about whatever I find!>

<Alright, alright I concede to you, oh master chef. I’ll see you soon. Kisses!>

<Love you too, buffoon.> Still fuming, Wire ended the call, and only then noticed Winter Gale had been watching from the door with a bag of crackers nestled against her chest. A troubled look had fallen over her.

“Did something happen?”

With the call over, Live Wire’s true anger shone forth as a harsh scowl. “My sister has found a whole new way to go Wigglynanas. Let’s finish grabbing food and then we’re going to have a little chat with our alien ‘friends’.”

---

Not too long after eating lunch, Mote had returned with a half-filled canister of fuel, giving the Akira plenty of power for months, barring any need for travel.

Both cathrex and Wiggly Sprocket were inside the genetics lab. Out of everything, the lab had escaped the parts scrounging the original crew had inflicted on other systems. So it was thankfully operational for the task at hand.

The lab itself consisted of three broad consoles with transparent data screens. An equal number of matching beds were adjacent to each console while the walls were mounted by a mainframe independent of the main computer.

Tapping away on the central console, Morales was analyzing some of Wiggly’s shed fur for her genetic code. Mote was on the conjoined bed and was leaning over to watch him work as her tail danced about in focused curiosity. Morales was beside himself with a professional yet nearly instinctual thrill of investigating new sequences.

Seated on the far console, Wiggly was parsing through the hundreds of xenotypes on record. Many were fairly close to Mote’s form, but a vast majority violated the one-two-two law. Yet to her surprise, there was an indicator on the top that labeled each one as legal or not. Some of the legal ones seemed to violate the law, so she leaned over towards the bipeds. “Hey, are wings and things legal too?”

Mote rolled over to sit on the bed and face her. “Clarification. Wings are, not sure about things.”

Wiggly slid back to a few dubious xenotypes. “This one has bug antenna and mandibles.”

A sour look fell over the jane, and she walked over to look at Wiggly’s screen. “Oh. Them.” She crossed her arms and her sour face wrinkled further. She glanced at Morales who held her gaze before averting his eyes. “Lament. We are a lost people, Captain. I think what we lost first, was kindness. We struggle to reclaim something you ponies have enshrined. Pray, you never lose it.”

“You seem kind enough to me.” Wiggly beckoned Mote over. “Just follow my lead.” Her conversation with her brother floated back to her mind. “Don’t worry so much if my brother gets snippy.”

Both cathrex became pensive with Morales starting to say something, but thought better of it and remained silently working away. Finding their reaction a bit disheartening, Wiggly pointed Mote at the terminal she was using. “It’s hard to type on your boards. Can you sniff out a xenotype that was good at controlling multiple drones or something? If I’m ever to put in a new engine room I need a full team, not a hodgepodge of laymares.”

Mote was left confounded at how quickly Wiggly had adopted them as friends. It brought a tear to her eye that the gynoid sheepishly brushed away. The solution came easily to Mote as she was quick to claim the seat Wiggly vacated. “Answer. The mechanteers would be my vote.” The announcement drew a concerned ear and eye from Morales.

After a few button presses Mote brought up the named file depicting a male and female mechanteer. At first glance, they looked quite similar to baseline cathrex: bipedal feline analogs. What visibly set them apart were two prominent wings that were much like Wiggly’s own. Sprouting from the middle of their backs and possessing a wing span a fair bit longer than their arms, Wiggly was taken by the kinship. Bereft of linking leathery membranes or feathers, their wings were quite bony looking. The male had similar bone-like frills swept backwards along the scalpel whereas the female had more flexible versions intermixed with her hair. Lastly, their long tails ended in a small collection of connectors Wiggly mentally matched to that of a diagnostic tool.

Mote looked pleased with her finding and moved aside so Sprocket could take a better look. “Clarification. You want a master drone controller, look no further.”

Accepting the invitation, Sprocket tapped a few parts of the screen, prompting more information about various body parts. “The bony bits act like transceivers?!” The tail was the real kicker for her. “You’re seriously telling me this isn’t a cyborg? I mean look at that.”

Morales craned his neck over his console to speak up. “As I mentioned before, the Combine hasn’t practiced cyberization for millennia. That being said, I thought all you wanted was a datalink.”

“At first, sure, but in for a step go for a mile. But yeah, why go through so much effort biologicalizing this?” Wiggly waggled her hoof at the presented file. “I can’t imagine doing this genetically was easier than installing some wire and metal.”

Mote glanced at Morales, the two debating on how much they could say. “Clarification. We had serious problems with cyberization when we first discovered magic. I’m sure as a pony, you need no convincing as to magic’s usefulness, and everyone wanted to wield it. Even the poor managed to lobby successfully to make such modifications accessible.”

Running with the explanation, Morales chimed in. “We were already masters of weaving strains, so we among those who remained with the Combine universally abandoned cyberization. By the time we discovered a workaround to the Thaumaturgical Constant, cyberization was seen as being backwards and obsolete.”

Outwardly, Wiggly nodded in thought, seemingly accepting their words. However, she was doubtful it was even close to a half-truth. I don’t care how much they must like genetic tinkering, some things are simply easier to do with machines. I bet they’re just saying that to avoid some embarrassment.

Ultimately deciding the omissions were not dangerous to her, Wiggly let the matter drop. “No wonder you’ve been giving Winter and my brother weird looks.”

Both cathrex flushed with intense embarrassment, with Mote looking away in shame. “Placation. I’m sorry. I - Ah - realize that can seem ironic, given what I must be to you.”

“No need to apologize to me. Just be sure to say so to them. It might help with trust issues, eh?”

Wiggly looked away, sparing them both from further awkwardness. As her attention returned to the mechanteer, she rubbed her chin as daydreams of her leading an army of drones filled her thoughts. Instead of hiring a crew I could be a one mare repair team. I could strip a ship in a fraction of the time! Her wild eyes were starting to unnerve Mote who developed a reluctant, and hopefully disarming, smile. When Sprocket managed to break out of it, she pulled back and started sweating out of embarrassment. “Aaanyway, how about it? Can you hybridize me with these mechanteer?”

Thinking it over, Morales could not deny a level of excitement on his part. To make the first pony xenotype. Ah, I might get my name in history after all. His mind made up, he pulled up the genetic data for the xenotype. “Absolutely. Is it safe to presume you wish to remain as ponish as possible?”

“Naturally.”

Mote pulled in close to the tom’s ear. “Cautionary. Are you sure this is a good idea? You could be censured for this.”

It gave him pause, but only for a moment. “She is not cathrex. The board will understand.” He turned to Wiggly. “Problem is, I’m not sure how tightly the one-two-two law is enforced. Attempting to do so will cause some sort of reaction from the computer I’m sure.”

“We’re not going to be attacked by some hidden turrets or something, are we?” Sprocket started glancing around for hidden panels.

Scoffing at the notion, Morales keyed in the parameters. “I doubt it. An alert though…” He hit the last key, and was immediately hit by a deep red warning and his console was locked.

A klaxon bellowed four deep whining notes before a mechanical voice called out, flattening Wiggly’s ears. “Security to genetics. Security to genetics.”

For a moment, Wiggly half expected marines to materialize out of nowhere and hold them all at gunpoint. “You were saying?!”

Irritated at the noise, Morales waved her over to the console he was using. “I suppose you did. Since you’re the captain, you need to end the lockdown.”

Wincing badly with her tail flailing heavily against anything close by, Mote spoke rapidly. “Request: please do so quickly. You may not hear it, but the Akira is being flooded with really painful alert radio signals.”

Rushing over to Morales’ side, Wiggly looked to the screen, only to see it was all still in the cathrex language. “What do I do?”

Morales pointed to a microphone embedded into the console. “Repeat after me.”

Following his prompting, Wiggly leaned in. “This is Captain Wiggly Sprocket speaking.”

The alarms went silent and the computer spoke again. “Captain. Medica Morales is conducting illegal splicing as per the Unification Act.”

Morales continued to whisper into Wiggly’s ear, and she parroted, “as my position as captain, I proclaim this to be an extenuating circumstance. His actions are to be continued.”

Mote hastily shimmied over, and moved a lock of hair out from her eyes. “This is Silent Callerion, serving as ship PI. I second the captain’s assessment.”

“Override acknowledged. Two-four-four is clear. Any attempt to create a xenotype outside of legal boundaries is forbidden. Be aware this incident will be logged and sent to the XID upon returning to Combine space. Any attempt to delete the log will be met with lethal force.”

With that, the alarms vanished and the screens returned to normal. Morales sighed as he went about preparing Wiggly’s request. “The review board’ll hound me for years over this. Even with you being an actual different species.”

Wiggly cracked what she hoped was an uplifting smile. “Then it’s a good thing you’ll be with us sampling exotic food for a while, right?” Her smile widened when he gave an amused snort.

“True enough.” He hummed irritably as the computer refused to proceed with the project. “Seems we have a problem.” Morales finally thought to command the screen to display both languages. “Weaving your strands is being blocked.”

“Is there no way to work around it?” Wiggly tried to keep her hopes up.

Sucking in a breath, Morales checked around. “There is, but I don’t think you’ll like it.”

Sprocket eyed the screen when all the red turned green. “A pet? You’re going to label me as a pet?”

Shrugging helplessly, Morales scowled at Mote who was giggling at everyone’s expense. “I’m not exactly proud of it either, but until a law can be passed to make exceptions for ponies, it’s the best I can do.” Wiggly gave him her best evil eye, glowering him into submission. “I - um…” Morales tried a few more things while avoiding eye contact. “Ah - yes. I can relabel it to an uplift project.”

“Better, I guess.” Sprocket declared, all while Mote was delighting in the tension.

“At any rate, this is going to take me all night to clean up and prepare. You can review the projected phenotype in the morning.”

Wiggly stayed put and gave him a firm look that brooked no argument. “Are you seriously planning on changing a mare’s looks without said mare hovering over your shoulder the whole time?”

Mote wholeheartedly laughed behind both hands while Morales looked dumbfounded for a moment. “Ahhh. Right. In that case, Mote, could you grab some drinks and snacks?”

“Delightment. Certainly, but only if I get to do the drone search while you two are busy.”

---

Later that night, Live Wire walked into the genetics lab levitating two plates of steaming food and some drink cans. He found Wiggly and Morales nose deep in their work. Neither of them reacted to the door sliding open, but Wiggly’s nose drifted away from the screen and right to the food. Her eyes widened and she instantly started drooling. “Is that skeddy?!” She fell over herself trying to scramble over to the plate, her hooves thrashing to reach the plate as fast as possible. “Spaghettiiiii!”

Live Wire relinquished the plate and glass of red wine. Wiggly cackled madly before absconding with her prize to the nearest observation bed to feast with gusto.

Morales watched the whole thing with flaring interest. He cupped his hands and bowed to the unicorn. “Live Wire, I must profess my gratitude for this meal. If her endorsement is even half deserved, I will remember this night for years.”

The flattery over his cooking always managed to drag a proud grin out of him. “You’re in luck then. I made enough sauce for days, and it only gets better with age.”

Taking the offered plate, Morales inspected the meaty red sauce and pale tan noodles beneath. “Ahh. Looks much like felloca.” He was getting excited now, but he held back so as to build the anticipation. “Oh ho ho, I can already smell the spices. Excuse me.” Bowing with the plate above his head, Morales retreated to join Sprocket at the bed.

To no surprise, Wiggly had buried her muzzle into her food and ate like a mare possessed. Morales took his time with each fork-full, savoring each bite like a gourmand.

With both of them distracted, Live Wire took a long look at the screen. The text was split between ponish and cathrex. Presently, only a left wing was actually depicted both in a flared and folded position. Aside from the fingers looking thicker and sturdier, it appeared normal to him. What surprised him was that the bone was replaced with horn ivory, and the alterations in her mana channeling were barely comprehensible to him.

“Master chef,” Morales called out while presenting a cut piece of meat on a fork. “This is a... sausage yes? Pray tell, what kind is it?” He closed his eyes, recalling the sharp heavenly flavor. “The flavor is deep and perfectly compliments the rest of the sauce.”

Begrudgingly reacting to the distraction, Live Wire let a proud grin shine forth, Live Wire answered, “that particular style is Lunarian. You won’t find a better sausage for spaghetti. It was even authentic stuff straight from the homeworld.”

“Then I am truly blessed this night.” Morales was lost in his delight, allowing Live Wire to approach his sister.

The front of Wiggly’s muzzle was splattered with bits of sauce and a few pieces of a mauled meatball. “So, how goes this…” Wire held back from insulting the genetics planning. After seeing how closely his sister seemed to be working on it, he was having second thoughts. “…Progress on your work?”

Wiggly licked her lips, briefly pulling away from her meal. “Pretty well actually. The computer is simulating it now to weed out defects. Mores says the serum should be ready sometime after breakfast.”

With his thoughts returning to what would become of his sister's wings, Live Wire's demeanor became a bit tense. “That quickly?”

“Indeed.” Morales paused eating, allowing the delay to refresh his pallet a little. “Long term missions like this one necessitate a lab for temporary edits for whatever challenges we may come across.”

“I added some touch ups,” Wiggly interjected with an eye waggle. “And a good thing too. I’d’ve ended up looking like I had little spikes coming out the back of my head if I hadn’t stepped in.”

“If what I've seen of you ponies so far,” Morales replied with jovial defensiveness, “making the act of hugging you difficult would be a horrible crime indeed.“

Live Wire furrowed his brow and rounded the bed so he could be closer to the doctor. “You said temporary?”

Morales looked up from his plate, his slowly swishing tail went still as he stared into the strangely anxious expression on the stallion’s face. “Of course. Think of it as putting on a suit. You do your work in it, then take it back off. I can tell you, adapting to the vacuum of space is unpleasant for anything longer than a day or so.”

Flashing a wide grin, Morales looked at the others expectantly, only to wilt under their puzzled looks. “Eehhh, it sounded funnier in my head.”

Shaking his head to clear the air, Live Wire pressed on. “Sure. Anyway, I want a reversal serum or whatever for this whole project.”

“Now wait a minute!” Wiggly cried out with bits of spaghetti flying.

“No, you wait,” Wire shot back forcefully enough to cow her for a moment longer. “I don’t like any of this. There’s a reason the high queens limited genetic engineering like they did. If this puts you in any danger, I want it reversible right then and there!”

Not having any of it, Wiggly propped herself up on the bed in a rush. She would have kicked her plate off the bed, were it not for a timely intervention by Morales scooting it out of the way. “Don't you dare hang that dagger over my head. I get one headache, and you’ll jab me with it!”

Looking pensive, Live Wire kept his eyes fixed on hers. “You’re my sunshine, Wiggs. I have to protect you.”

Wiggly growled in exasperation and moved forward on the bed, and kicked her plate off, only for it to be saved by Morales. She pointed an angry hoof at him. “Don’t pull sunshine on me like this. That’s not fair!”

“Isn’t it?” He challenged firmly. “Wiggs, what you're doing is like taking all of Winter’s bionics all in one surgery. That’s not something you can just do on a whim. It’s dangerous, and who knows if what the computer thinks is a defect is actually a defect?”

“I need this,” was all Sprocket could think to say at that moment. “We need this.”

“If that’s true…” Live Wire leaned back and took in his sister a whole, terrified this could be the last he saw of her true self. “Then I need the reversal treatment at the ready.”

With the siblings so distracted, Morales popped two pieces of Wiggly’s sausage off her plate as payment for saving the meal. He put her plate back down on the bed, and covered his mouth to mask his chewing. “A reversal treatment is not only reasonable, but is standard procedure,” he announced, breaking the deadlock. As the siblings turned to look at him, he hastily swallowed. “Along with a baseline neurological test before and after administration. If there are any unexpected changes, they can be reversed.”

The wording sparked Live Wire’s protectiveness. “What exactly would constitute expected changes?!”

“I would imagine similar ones you experienced when getting cyberized,” Morales commented coolly while forking his meal. “Or perhaps less so, I can not say. All cathrex are born with the ability to commune with machines akin to your own interfaces. How a pony mind will react to that is something the computer is addressing with a light touch. We will all have to see.”

“I guess we will,” Wiggly stated with iron. “And I’m not budging.”

“Fine then.” Live Wire got up and made for the door. “But if you get anything worse than a headache, I’ll reverse this farce myself if I have to.”

Comments

[Doge of Venucci]

So bio-engineering ? Let's hope our main character doesn't go further in her excitement and turn itself into a godless abomination with thousand tentacled , just to be able to hold more tools at the same time.

[tiwake]

eeeee new chapter!
I'm going to save this one... maybe.

[Notrab M]

Is Wiggly going bipedal?! That sounds awesome!

[Blewfire]

Very good job giving both sides of the argument in this debate. I completely understand Wiggly wanting something to help her work better and do what she loves. I also completely understand Wire's worry about what it will do to Wiggly. Having a reversal serum sounds like a good compromise, even though Wire's doesn't know if it will work and has to go on Morales says. But Morales has very good point of it being not much different then cyber implants. Looking forward to see what becomes of it next chapter.