Fallout Equestria: Mothership Eta

Four floors later, and Paul had yet to stop ranting.

"... they're convinced we've got some terrible things we do to the zebras as well! It's like they can't wrap their heads around the fact that we're just not interested in what's going on planetside! We grab surfacers to help us out, not because we have any desire to keep them as pets!"

The Sup had turned out not to be close by at all. Fuck you, Celestia. I gave you one last chance to prove yourself and you let me down again.

Finally, finally, Paul led us to a nondescript door nestled at the end of a hallway. "All right, we're here.” He tapped a panel inset into the wall before continuing: “Now listen, and listen good. We Engineers are the only reason the Eta is still running. Every single breath you take on this ship, you better thank whatever gods you believe in for the work we do. And if I hear of you calling us closet bronies again, my two friends here will pay you another visit. And they won’t be gentle. Understand?”

Before we could respond, a different voice called out from beyond the newly-opened door. “Paul! Are you yelling at our guests?”

“Just letting them know how things work around here! Don’t worry about it, Will!”

A short, scrawny human stepped into view from behind the doorframe, a surly expression drawn across his face. “Really. Because it sounded suspiciously like your ‘closet bronies’ speech to me.”

“Yes, Will. Like I said, the way things work around here.” Our new acquaintance narrowed his eyes even further at that remark. “You know, the sort of statement you should be making, instead of letting every other faction on this ship walk all over us.”

“Believe me, I’m aware of our status on this ship. But it seems you need to be reminded of yours, Second Engineer Radama.”

“Of course. Please forgive my outburst, Superintendent,” Paul responded, his tone indicating he neither desired nor expected forgiveness. “Mi ne plu bezonas vin,” he told his companions as he turned around and stormed by them.

Whatever that phrase meant, it was obviously relieving to our guards. They visibly relaxed, though they made no other movements until Paul had disappeared around a corner. Then, the tall one spoke.

“Need anything else, boss?”

“Nope,” came the Sup’s reply. “You and Bulk are dismissed.”

Dew presumably noticed my puzzled expression and gave me a quick nudge. She shook her head no when I looked to her in confusion. I guess she had somehow determined I was planning to ask about the sudden change in language. Good catch there, Dew. It’s not a good idea to question bizarre human behavior when we’re looking to secure something from them.

Our escorts turned to leave as the Sup beckoned us forward. “So,” he said to us after the door closed us off from the hallway, “you’re the mysterious ponies who interrupted my break?”

“Sorry about that,” Dew replied. “We didn’t have any clue who we’d be talking to down here, and we certainly didn’t intend to interrupt your stress leave.”

“Stress leave,” the Sup chuckled derisively. “He would say that, wouldn’t he. No, this was a good old fashioned vacation.”

“I take it you and Paul don’t see eye to eye?” I asked. Dew nudged me again, harder this time... oh. Right. It’s also not a good idea to mention height differences when talking to a particularly short creature. I suspected the chances of a successful conversation with the Sup had become quite slim.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice my verbal blunder. “That’s putting it mildly,” he grumbled, as he led us over to a pair of chairs facing a large desk. “I could spend hours going over everything he’s done to piss me off. But I’m sure you’re not interested in hearing about that. You’ve got places to be, and I wouldn’t say no to finishing up this meeting quick and getting back to my vacation.” He took a seat in an oversized chair on the opposite side of the desk from us and leaned forward intently. “So, let’s hear it. What do you need from the Engineering decks?”

After my earlier verbal missteps, there was no way I would volunteer to be the one delivering our request. Fortunately, Dew stepped up to lead the conversation.

“Mister Superintendent,” she said, slipping effortlessly into petition mode, “we’re on a mission from the Tragicians. They’ve made a breakthrough that will allow them to teleport a pony-sized creature to the surface of Equus. They’re all excited about the research opportunities this presents. Even better, from other factions’ perspective, this would break the stranglehold the Guros have on transport on and off the ship. They’ve hit a snag, though, in that the amount of energy required is far too high considering their allotment. So, they sent us here to ask you to increase their assigned power. That’s the gist of our mission, sir.”

A small smile crept across the Sup’s face before he responded. “They finally figured out they could teleport something small, hmm? I was wondering how long it would take them to realize that.”

“They did seem to recognize that ‘insular thinking’ was part of their problem,” Dew smiled back.

“Indeed. And what do you and your companion gain from this?”

Dew nodded knowingly before answering. “I see you know we’re separate from the Tragicians. I don’t know what exactly Paul may have told you, but we’re escapees, not part of any faction. Our end goal is to get back to our homes, planetside. That’s it.”

I realized that Dew conveniently left out the “heroing” part of our plans. Probably for the best. We had no idea what the human reaction to our idea of heroics would be. Smart of her.

“I see. And this would allow other ponies wishing to return to do so?”

“That depends entirely on the Tragicians, sir.” Deflecting a leading question we didn’t know the best answer to? Damn, this mare was good! I made a mental note to allow Dew to handle any future negotiations.

“Well.” The Sup rose from his seat, his height barely increasing as he stood. “I can’t say this proposal comes as a complete surprise; I had expected something like this coming from our friends on the ‘tween’ decks. So I already have my answer ready. No.”

“What?” I blurted. “Why ‘no?’”

Two pairs of eyes immediately shifted over to me; Dew’s with annoyance, the Sup’s with amusement. I sank back into my seat. Dammit.

“Because, Rusty,” the Sup said, leaning forward, “I’d much rather not trust the future of a significant part of my workforce to the idealists in charge of the teleporter. We’re already hard-pressed as it is to keep the Eta running. The chance that we’d lose a good portion of our workers by letting them return to the surface is one I’d rather not take.”

“Are you saying you’re keeping ponies as slaves?” I shouted, shooting upright again. Dew jabbed me hard this time, but I didn’t care. Given my history, slavery was one of those things I just couldn’t overlook.

“Those sound like fighting words, Rusty.” The Sup slammed his open hands on the desk before continuing, “Our ponies are treated as equals and are quite happy here. But given the hope of returning, enough could leave to cause a cascading failure of the Eta’s basic systems! I have human lives to weigh against ponies’ preferences, and I choose the option that keeps this ship running for those of us that have no ability to leave. Understand?”

“We understand, Superintendent,” Dew responded in a much more civil manner than I would have. “But consider this: what if we were able to guarantee the Tragicians would only teleport their own ponies? We could get home, and you would keep your workers. Seems like an agreement that would satisfy both sides.”

The Sup gave a dismissive laugh. “You’re highly underestimating the power of the rumor mill. But sure. If you can get them to agree they’ll only use their own ponies, and agree to cease all communications with other factions, I’ll consider redistributing power. It’ll take a miracle to convince them, though. Good luck, you’ll need it.”

That sounded like a dismissal. And we now had an additional step on our main quest. Why couldn’t things ever be easy? Dew and I got to our hooves, just as the Sup added, “By the way, don’t even think about telling the ponies here about the teleporter. I hear about you doing that, I’ll have Bulk and Skull drop you off with the Guros. Now get going.”

I was just about to turn towards the exit when I heard a sharp click and saw a section of the Sup’s desk separate and slide upward. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it but for his surprised expletive.

“Something going on?” Dew asked.

“The fuck? There’s not supposed to be any compartment there!”

The section of desk continued its rise until it ejected a leaf of paper, which the Sup snatched and began to read. Not five seconds later, he raised a suspicious gaze to us. “Stay here. I don’t know if you have anything to do with this note, but you’re not leaving until I find out.”

Dew and I exchanged confused glances as the Sup sat back down and scanned through the paper. His expression slowly grew more and more perplexed. Finally, his voice expressing utter bewilderment, he passed the paper over to us: “You better read this.”

Dew took the note in her magic and we began to read:

Superintendent William Thiago:

The timed lock containing this letter should open precisely when you first dismiss your visitors, Rusty Rivet and Dewdrop. It is in your best interests to call them back, as they are a key part of the changes about to take place aboard the Eta.

My name is Pinkie Pie 89, one of the Mirror Pool Duplicates of the original Pinkie. I was brought aboard the Eta and assigned to the Engineering faction two hundred years before you will have received this letter. The specifics of how the letter came to you is unimportant. Just know that I have an inherent ability to predict the future -- my Pinkie Sense.

I’m sure you’ll want more evidence of my abilities. If you check your records, you’ll find that I died long before you were born. Despite this, I can tell you that your first crush was on your next-door neighbor Melissa Adilbish, and that you currently have your grandmother’s utility knife in your right pants pocket. Before you ask, (not that you’ll be able to,) I’m not omniscient. There are very specific things I can sense, but everything else about the future is blank.

Still, you know the ability to see even a bit of the future is invaluable. The most important thing I sense, and the reason you’ve received this letter at this time, is the role Rusty and Dew will play in your plans. Specifically, their presence will allow you to launch Plan Sigma within a few days, with them acting as the agitators. I know you consider it the riskiest of all your plans, but I can remove your uncertainty by telling you exactly which factions will join you. You can count on the Tragicians, Robronies, Shippers, and what’s left of the Analysts. (Rusty and Dew will be able to explain that last bit.)

Even though I’ll have passed long before these events unfold, I am eager for you to succeed. Your actions will shape the future of the entire vessel for the better.

I wish you the best of luck.

Second Engineer Pinkie Pie 89

P.S. Please share this note with Dew and Rusty as soon as you’ve finished.

P.P.S. Dew and Rusty, Plan Sigma is your best chance to get home. Give it a shot.

Fucking Pinkie Pie. Again. I now understood the Sup’s confusion, though reading the letter had made one thing a bit clearer for me. I had a strong suspicion as to who exactly had set up that appointment for us.

“Rusty, are you done?” Dew asked me. She was apparently a much faster reader than I was. When I nodded in reply, she hovered the note back over to our human companion. "Well? Changed your mind about helping us?" she asked, waving the paper in front of his face.

The Sup absently lifted it from her magic, looking for all the world like he had just snapped out of a Rage-induced haze. "Wow. Plan Sigma. Didn't think we’d end up going for that one. Excuse me for a moment." He tapped something on the underside of his desk, causing a terminal screen and keyboard to rise up before him. "This is the only thing that's supposed to be hidden inside my desk," he told us as he began tapping commands. "No idea how Pinkie Pie managed to bury something else in there."

"Lot of that going around," I muttered to myself.

“Hey Ruby?” he spoke to the terminal. “It’s Will. Can you come down here? Need to run a few things past you.” He touched one final key and the terminal slid back into his desk.

“All right,” he said, addressing us once again. “I’m sure you realized I had no expectation you’d be able to fulfil my earlier request regarding the Tragicians. They’d never agree to completely cut themselves off; that’s the easiest way for a faction to commit suicide. But now we have an option that’ll actually work. For all of us. I’ll get you two home, as long as you help me out with what I’m trying to do. Deal?”

“That depends entirely on what you expect us to do,” I told him.

Dew nodded at that. “We’re not going to agree to anything until we find out what it is we’re agreeing to.”

The Sup gave us a shrewd smile. “Wouldn’t have expected anything less. Can I at least get you to promise what we talk about here doesn’t leave this room?”

“We’ll keep our mouths shut, Superintendent.”

“Call me Will. And please, have a seat. I’m going to be entrusting you with a lot here, but that letter has me convinced this Pinkie Pie character knows what she’s talking about. So go ahead, ask me anything.”

“All right, Will.” Dew took the lead. “First step is telling us what our role in all this will be.”

“That’s easy enough. You’re going to be sparking a civil war.”

I don’t know how long we stared blankly at Will after he dropped that balefire egg of a revelation on us, but Dew was the first to recover. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re the agitators that will be starting a civil war.” Will gave a bemused chuckle. “I promise, it’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Not as bad as it seems? I don’t want to be responsible for starting a war!”

“Believe me, my dear mare,” an elderly voice spoke up from behind us, “this is a war you’ll want credit for starting.”

“Ruby! You made excellent time getting down here! Let me introduce you to Rusty Rivet and Dewdrop,” Will addressed the newcomer. “Our potential agitators for Plan Sigma. Dew, Rusty, this is Ruby,” he said, turning his attention back to us and pointing to the elderly human who had just entered the room. “She’s the former Superintendent and an absolute genius when it comes to what makes all the factions tick.”

“Flatterer.” Ruby shuffled around the desk to take a seat next to Will. “But I won’t argue with your assessment. I’ve always been particularly good at sensing people’s hidden motives. And what I see on this ship is a heap of factions working at cross-purposes. I spent my entire tenure as Sup taking advantage of the Engineers’ ability to mingle with others and working behind the scenes to keep the peace. But the divisions just kept growing. Which is why I’m glad my friend here was the one to replace me. We needed a leader resolute enough to preserve our faction when the dam inevitably breaks.”

“Now who’s being a flatterer?” Will smiled back at her.

“Believe me, Superintendent, I wish we didn’t need a leader like you.” Ruby returned his look with a serious gaze. “I will always believe a soft touch is better in the long term than your style of a firm hand. But there’s no need to spend ages discussing our approaches to leadership. You were wondering why provoking a civil war would be a good thing, correct?” she asked, returning her attention to Dew.

“Yeah… Especially once you started talking about a soft touch and long-term benefits! Seems a bit inconsistent!”

Ruby sighed and leaned back in her chair, a distant look in her eyes. “Very astute, Miss. You’re right, of course. But there’s a method to our collective madness. Let me ask you a question. Which factions have you encountered thus far aboard the Eta?”

That was not the sort of question I had anticipated. It seemed to catch Dew off-guard too. With how much Will and Ruby seemed to love their theories and politics, a question with a concrete answer was completely out of character.

“Guros, Cloppers, Tragicians, and Analysts,” Dew answered suspiciously. “And Engineers, I suppose.”

“And are you aware of the relations these groups have with one another?”

“They all seem to hate each other…”

Ruby gave a slight nod in response. “I won’t argue with your assessment, though in truth it’s quite a bit more complicated than that. But I was referring to their transactional relations, not their attitudes towards each other. Specifically, to the trade in ponies and the other Equestrian creatures.”

“Guros ponynap creatures and dole them out to the other factions, right?”

“Precisely. And, of all the factions you’ve visited, did any of them seem to be a place where ponies would be happy to stay?”

Will gave an exasperated sigh at Ruby’s question. She shot him a severe glare. “Please. Let our new friend answer.”

Dew seemed to be putting quite a bit of thought into her reply. “I suppose it depends on your definition of happy,” she finally said. “I don’t think a pony forced to endure the sort of obsessive behavior we’ve seen could be anything more than okay.”

"Exactly right. And I'm glad you brought up the 'obsessive behavior' as well. The reality is, closet bronies are the only faction that doesn't see ponies as something to focus their obsessions on."

It was my turn to let out an irritated sigh. "Look, I'm getting pretty sick of every faction jerking themselves off and saying they're the only ones who really care about ponies. Just drop the brahminshit and admit you’ve got ulterior motives with us!”

“You’re absolutely correct, dear.” I was once again surprised by Ruby’s response to us. I would have expected a clumsy denial at the very least! “We do have ulterior motives. Any human aboard this ship who tells you otherwise is deceiving you,” she continued.

“But didn’t you just say your faction is different from all the others?” Dew retorted, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“We are different, just in a very specific way. I’m sure you’ve noticed the particular… passions… each faction manifests towards their Equestrian subjects. Whether it’s the Guros and their love of torture, or the Analysts and their desire to probe ponies’ minds, there is a single underlying obsession hidden within every faction’s assigned role. Every faction, that is, except for one.

“We Engineers individually have our own obsessions, but they are not the driving force behind our existence. In fact, most of our people would deny having any particular interest in ponies, regardless of any evidence to the contrary! This is why we are disparagingly referred to as ‘closet bronies’ by others on this ship. Our true feelings are kept in a metaphorical closet, not to be revealed even to our fellow Engineers.

“At the end of the day, this is why you want a civil war. With the Engineers, and our allies, in charge, there will be no more underlying obsessions expressed through each faction. The obsessions will still be there, but stored in the closet, not acted upon. And the Eta will finally have equality between the races.”

“Wow,” Dew declared after a long pause. “That’s a lot to take in.”

“No kidding,” I added. Dissecting all the shit that was just thrown at us was way beyond anything I had been required to do before, in or out of the Wasteland! Back when I was dealing with Ema’s verbal diarrhea, there hadn’t been any consequences from straight-up ignoring three-quarters of it. Here, with the talk of civil war, I was loath to overlook anything! The problem was, I was certain I had missed at least something. It did sound like we’d at least be playing heroes. I think. I’d have to rely on Dew’s obvious experience handling dense speech.

But there was one rule I knew I could apply, something important I'd gathered from all my years in the wastes. Never take somepony’s opinion -- especially of themselves -- at face value. I’d be hard pressed myself to determine if our Superintendent acquaintances were spewing horseshit at us, but I could at least make sure Dew had the tools to figure it out!

“Listen,” I announced. Two pairs of wary human eyes swung over to meet my gaze. “I’ve still got to go back to the whole circlejerk thing! Everything you just told us means fuck-all if we’re only hearing it from you!”

Will’s expression switched from suspicious to harsh quicker than I could blink. “Rusty,” he said, his tone of voice friendly but betraying an underlying sternness, “I appreciate your candor. Hell, it’s downright refreshing to hear down here. But don’t think for a moment you can get away with insolence as a guest here in my office!”

“Really, Tiger.” Tiger? Must be Ruby’s pet name for Will. Wonder what the story was there? “I don’t think it’s quite necessary to speak so severely, especially to a pony still open to helping you! And do keep in mind,” Ruby continued, a playful sparkle in her eye, “this is still effectively my office as well.”

“Come on, Ruby, you know I hate it when you call me that…”

“And as for your concerns regarding our biases,” she said, regarding me, “would it help to hear from a non-Engineer?”

“It’s a start,” I told her. “As long as there’s proof it’s not an Engineer pretending to be something else.” Dew gave me an approving nod.

“I think we can manage something.” She turned to face her human companion and asked, cryptically, “Did you do the standard nondisclosure?”

“Ruby, I don’t know what you’re getting at…” She shot him a severe glare. “Yes. Yes we did.”

“Perfect.” She raised her voice and called into the void, “Pinkie? You can come out now!”

“Hiya Rubbie! Hi R&D! Good to see everypony!”

The Sup’s terminal once again emerged from the top surface of his desk. The Sup himself was showing a mess of emotions. He looked like he simultaneously wanted to throttle Ruby, rip his terminal from its casing, and hide under his desk.

All I could do was groan in irritation. “Not again…”

“Ruby? Is this our Pinkie Pie? How the buck do you know about her?!” Dew was apparently trying to make sense of the situation. Good luck, hon.

“I don’t know if she’s necessarily your Pinkie Pie, dear. Still, I think she would fit the bill for an independent source, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Independent is one word for it,” I caustically told Ruby. “But I do know she’s too unstable to play along with a ruse for long. So if she was listening all this time…”

“I was…”

“Then I’m confident enough to take you at your word. At least so far.”

“Ruby.” Will had his face buried in his hands and was looking out through his interwoven fingers. “Can you please explain exactly what the fuck is going on here?”

“I’m with Will,” Dew added. “Pinkie, we let you out not half an hour ago! How does Ruby already know about you?”

“Oh, Rudely’s known me a lot longer than just a half hour, Dewderp! Actually, she was the one who brought me…”

“I’ll take it from here, Pinkie.” Ruby cut the modulated voice off abruptly. “Believe it or not, I’m a bit of an enigma myself. I'm one of only a hooffull of humans to ever switch factions. And as far as I know, the only one to switch multiple times. I started out in a particularly nasty one -- I’ll tell you about them later -- but I left when I was much younger. The factions are usually incredibly strict about allowing humans between decks, but I guess they realized a six-year-old couldn’t cause too much trouble. And because there was precedent -- you’ll hear that word thrown around quite a bit -- no one really cared if I moved between factions. It took a while, but I finally came down to the Analysts’ level. And holy moly, were they ever glad for the company! That’s the place where I met Pinkie, of course. I would bring books and games for us to share, and even though she couldn’t leave her tube, we became very close.”

“You were a lot more fun than those meany-pants Analysts, anyway. They took away my coffee tube!”

“Yes, I’m sure that was a dark day for all involved. Moving on, I ultimately settled in the Engineering levels. No real reason for staying here, it just felt right, I suppose. I eventually became Superintendent, passed the torch to little Tiger over here, and was just enjoying a nice coffee of my own when Pinkie popped up in my terminal to say hi!”

“Yep! Now that the Analysts aren’t around to keep me locked up anymore, I can say hi to you whenever I want!”

“Wait just a damn minute!” Fucking Luna, what was Will upset about now? “What the fuck happened to the Analysts?”

“Oh, they’re all dead. I got an alert about twenty minutes ago,” Ruby said, with a surprising lack of sympathy.

“You got an alert? How did you get an alert when I didn’t?! Dammit… Ruby, tell me the truth. Did you actually ever turn the Superintendent position over to me?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to, Tiger.”

“Well.” Everyone’s attention shifted to Dew upon her sudden interjection. “We can sit here and discuss office politics all day, but I’d like to get back to figuring out what the two of us need to do to get back home!”

"Of course, dear. I'm sorry, I do tend to get carried away. Let me explain what's going on with Plan Sigma…"

Dear. Sweet. Celestia. If I thought the meeting with the Sups had been tedious before, the explanation that followed was more like slogging through shoulder-deep mud.

Apparently Pinkie thought so too. At some point she refused to confirm or deny what Will and Ruby were telling us unless we "jazzed it up a little." The meeting eventually turned into a game of "two truths and a lie.”

I jerked out of my half-slumber as Dew pelted the Sups with yet another question. "Explain why exactly we have to make it back up to the Tragician levels by ourselves. What's wrong with just using the Eta's communications system?"

It was Will's turn to answer. "Communications lines between decks aren't secure, any group between us and them could be listening in. Radio is out, the signal doesn't travel more than a couple decks away. And… I don't know… I had waffles for breakfast this morning."

"Come on, Silly Billy, that's an easy one! Everypony knows waffles are only for dinner! Especially with whipped cream and chocolate sauce! And blueberries! Aww, now I'm hungry! Okay, Reuben, your turn!"

“Actually,” Dew said, “I don’t have any more questions. Do you, Rusty?”

“I’m good.” I had been content to let her take the lead in the questioning. From the snippets I had paid attention to, it sounded like she had been doing a bang-up job. And we were at the point in our friendship where I trusted her analysis enough to go along with whatever she decided. It wasn’t because I was zoning out or anything. Nope. Not at all.

“Wonderful. Pinkie, thank you for your assistance. I realize this discussion has been a bit drawn out. Would you two care to rest for a while in one of our guest rooms?” It sounded like Ruby was finally bringing the meeting to a close.

“I could use some shut-eye. Dew?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okie-dokie-lokie! I’ll see everypony around!” The terminal retracted into Will’s desk as Pinkie’s voice cut out. I snuck one last glance back as Ruby led me and Dew out of the office. Will still looked shell-shocked. Get used to it, pal, I thought. You’ll be hearing a lot more from Pinkie once Plan Sigma starts for real.

“Hey, Ruby? I have a question about something Pinkie was saying back there.” Dew apparently did have another question, one that would be better to ask out of our pink friend’s earshot.

“Yes, dear? What is it?”

“Pinkie kept using the phrase ‘everypony’ when we were in there. Is that okay when talking to humans and ponies together?” Okay, maybe it wasn’t something Pinkie would be better off not hearing. But either way, it was a decent question. Better we figure this kind of stuff out now before contracting hoof-in-mouth disease in front of somepony -- somehuman -- important.

“Generally, ‘everyone’ or ‘everybody’ is preferable. Pinkie’s a bit different in that she’ll use ‘everypony’ when her target is majority nonhuman.”

Dew looked a bit confused at that. “But it was an even split in there. Two humans, two ponies. Does she just round up?”

Ruby chuckled before answering. “That’s a polite way of putting it. The truth is, Pinkie sees humans as less important than ponies. I’m sure there’s some crazy math she uses to figure out if ponies in attendance outweigh humans. But for you, if there’s a single human present, better not to say ‘everypony.’”

“Good to know.” I said.

Ruby shrugged. “Who knows if it’ll even be an issue. In any event, we’ve arrived at your destination.” She indicated a colorfully painted door to our right. “There will be a map on the inside that will help you if you need to find anything. Sleep well, and good luck on your mission.”

Dew and I trotted into the guest quarters. Dew practically flew into one of the oversized beds. “Whew! I never thought I’d be so exhausted just from talking! Give me a hard day’s work in the fields any day!”

I unstrapped my barding before clambering into my own bed. “Tell me about it. I’m just glad you were willing to take the lead. If it was just me, I might have ended up shooting someone just to get them to shut up!”

“You’re not sore that I kind of took over in there?”

I lay down over the covers and closed my eyes. “Hon, I’ve got my ego in check now. I’m not going to resent you for taking the lead in something you’re better at. Now get some rest. I’m sure we’ll need it.”

“Okay.” Her magic toggled a switch and extinguished the room lights. “Goodnight, Rusty.”

“‘Night, Dew.”

As I drifted off to sleep, I felt strangely untroubled. Despite the promise of a new day filled with all kinds of dangers and alien weirdness, I could rest secure in the fact that we would face it together. As friends.