Slipshod shambled out of his quarters sometime around mid-afternoon the next day. In his defense, he wasn’t usually the sort of stallion who did things like that; but his middle-of-the-night escapades, combined with being woken up frequently by his whiplash, had made sleep...illusive, for the most part. He made a note to ask Doc Dee about getting something a little more potent to help him with that. However, in the interim, he needed coffee! All of it, if the galley was as lightly packed as it should be this time of day.

There were a few ponies present, chatting and snacking on their shift breaks, but the dining area was otherwise rather empty. The earth pony stallion staggered over to the percolators and retrieved one of the full pots that was simmering there. The act earned him a curiously raised eyebrow from a couple ponies who noticed the act, but was otherwise unremarked upon. He shuffled to the nearest table and slowly eased himself onto the bench, gingerly sipping from the carafe he’d taken.

The liquid felt almost immediately revitalizing, and Slipshod sighed contentedly.

A briskly moving form entering the galley like a mare on a mission caught the earth pony’s attention. He glanced up, noticing that she was heading in his direction at a rather fair clip. Slipshod smiled. “Hey, Emery! What’s going on? How was your session with Va―”

The unicorn mare’s magic wrenched the coffee pot from the earth pony’s hooves. Before he could process what was going on, she returned it to him. However, it was returned with much greater fervor and gusto than it had been taken with. Which was saying something, honestly, as she’d been none-too-kind about acquiring it in the first place.

The tempered glass shattered as it slammed across the side of his head. The blow was fierce enough to send the stallion toppling off the bench and to the floor. If there was a bright side, it was that the throbbing of his head and stinging of his flesh where it had been splashed with hot coffee supplanted the general aches of the rest of his body. Not that any of that was much of a bright side from the stallion’s point of view.

He blinked up in shocked double-vision surprise as the furious mare glared down at him. “How dare you, you degenerate fuck!”

“Bluh~?”

“Where the fuck do you get off telling other ponies that you and I are sleeping together?!” She screamed in his face, her own expression seeming to be torn between tears and rage. She was upset. Very upset. At him...for some reason? What’d he do?! He hadn’t seen her all week!

“Mwehh~” there seemed to be a disconnect between his brain and his mouth. Likely a result of having a coffee pot shattered across his temple. It was making it quite difficult for him to articulate his innocence. To say nothing of finding out what she was talking about. Who on the ship had he told that he and Emery File were sleeping together? Why would he have told anypony that?

A hoof connected with his gut, forcing the wind from the stallion’s lungs and causing him to reflexively curl up protectively in a ball. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about! Valkyrie told me that you’re always bragging to her about sleeping with half the ponies on this ship!”

Okay, things were starting to make sense now. Not that the stallion was having any luck in explaining himself, as all he could do now was gape like a fish out of water as his diaphragm refused to let him get a full breath of air. All that he managed to do was shake his head furiously as he fought desperately to get out a coherent word. However, between an oncoming concussion, his kick-induced coughing, and the tirade of a scorned mare, that wasn’t going to be happening any time soon.

“I can’t believe you’d do that to me,” she was screaming, “I thought we were friends! You complete piece of shit!”

She reared up to kick him again. Fortunately, it seemed that enough time had managed to pass for the onlookers in the galley to get over their initial shock and come to his rescue. Two ponies got hold of Emery and pulled her away from him while a third pony bent down to make sure that he was alright. Typically, Slipshod was the kind of pony to wave away such assistance, but right now he was honestly quite thankful for it. Between his general aches from his recently acquired whiplash, his throbbing head, and his inability to breathe normally, the earth pony was barely able to do anything more than groan at the moment.

Emery File wouldn’t have actually killed him―he didn't think―or even likely done truly serious long-term damage, but she’d certainly done a number on him already. Probably delayed his recovery by another week, honestly.

The other ponies in the dining area were doing their level best to calm the distraught unicorn mare down. He heard the sound of armored hooves clomping into the room as well. The security ponies were probably just as shocked by what was going on as everypony else in the room had been. Fights like this―if his being sent to the floor after a single hit could be generously called a ‘fight’―just didn’t happen on the Galloway. They mostly just kept the DropShip secure while they were in port, more than anything.

Slipshod fought for words now as a pair of uniformed ponies closed in around Emery File, ready to take her into custody. At best, she’d be in the ship’s brig for a few days, at worst Squelch would outright terminate the mare’s employment contract right here and now and drop her off on Lupine to make her own way to wherever she wanted to go. The earth pony wasn’t keen to let either of those things happen over something that―he strongly suspected―was Valkyrie’s fault. “No~!” He gasped, shaking his head vigorously. “Let her go. Let her go!”

Everypony in the room paused, their attention falling to the injured earth pony. Even Emery looked confused. One of the security mares cast a dubious look at the stallion. “Sir?”

“Misunderstanding,” he managed to get out, feeling his breathing finally getting easier, though he was still coughing a good bit. His head was still throbbing, but progress was progress. “Just a misunderstanding. We’re good.” The armored ponies exchanged hesitant looks, but they knew that there really wasn’t much more that they could do if the ‘victim’ of the nominal assault was telling them that nothing untoward had taken place.

Slipshod fixed his gaze on Emery now. “Val misheard me,” he insisted in a firm tone, “that’s all. I swear.” He gestured around at the gathered ponies, looking to them. “Has anypony here ever heard me talking about Emery like that? Or any other member of the Galloway crew?” He paused for a moment, then hastily added, “Except for the twins last year?”

Everypony shook their heads. The golden stallion looked back at the unicorn mare. “See? I’m not telling anypony anything like that. Not even Val. She just…” he sighed, “she has an active imagination is all. I promise I’ll talk to her.”

Emery File’s expression slowly shifted away from one of vitriolic anger to confusion as she glanced around at the other ponies for confirmation. Each insisted that they’d never heard any rumors about Slipshod doing anything intimate with her, or any other ponies on the ship. Now the mare was looking almost panicked, and more than a little ashamed. “Oh shit. Oh shit! Slip, I―”

The earth pony was shaking his head, despite the discomfort that it caused. “S’alright. Not your fault,” he smiled up at the mare, “you would have had every right to clock me like that if I actually was telling ponies those things. I hope that these ponies would’ve joined in if that was the case!” He chuckled, nodding to the other galley patrons before his expression softened again. “Let’s just...forget this ever happened, okay? No hard feelings. Promise.” The stallion crossed his hoof over his chest and touched it to his brow, beaming warmly at the mare.

Shakily, the unicorn nodded, trying to manage her own smile, though it was clear that she was having some difficulty. Her embarrassment at having apparently overreacted to what turned out to be misinformation was palpable. It was clearly going to take more than a few words to put her completely at ease any time soon. That wasn’t ideal, but Slipshod would have time to sooth those frayed nerves in the coming weeks. As long as the worst of it was past, that was fine in the interim.

Perhaps an act of contrition would help things along. “Maybe get me a fresh coffee―and buy Cookie a new pot―and we’ll call it square?” he offered.

The unicorn mare nodded. “Eheh...yeah.” She swallowed. She seemed a bit more at ease now, having been given a means by which to tangibly make recompense.

“Good,” the stallion groaned as he finally peeled himself off the floor with the help of the pony who’d come to check on him. Slipshod winced and touched his hoof to the side of his head. Pulling it away revealed that he was bleeding. Not particularly badly, but a few stitches probably wouldn’t go amiss. “In the meantime, I’m going to wash up so I don’t smell like dark roast, and then I’m going to see Doc Dee.

“Thank you, everypony, for your help. You should probably go back to...doing whatever it is you all do on this ship,” he flashed all of the ponies a brief grin and waived away the offered assistance before stiffly trudging towards the exit. His expression soured the instant he caught sight of a wide-eyed blue pegasus mare standing at the edge of the room.

“Val,” he said sternly as he walked by, “a word, please?”

The feathered ‘Steed pilot cast one final look around the room at all of the other ponies who were now regarding her with expressions that bordered on accusatory. After all, it had been her rumor-mongering that had prompted the incident. She flushed and hurried after the golden stallion.

“Wow,” she said, attempting to affect a light chuckle, “I didn’t know that mare had it in her to deck a pony like th―”

“Val,” the mare closed her mouth with an audible ‘click’ and went silent, “why did you tell Emery File that I was telling other ponies we were sleeping together? You know she’s married, right? And that she met her husband through Axle Rod, the motor sergeant? Axel and her husband comm all the time. They’re frat buddies that go way back.

“What would have happened to Emery’s marriage if Axel had passed on that rumor of yours to her husband?”

“Leave it to you to sleep with married mares―”

Slipshod wheeled around and glared at the pegasus. “I am not sleeping with married mares!” He screamed at the mare at a volume that very well might have been audible on every level of the ship. In a much lower―though no less intense―tone, he continued. “Not that it is any of your business, but there are exactly three ponies that I have ever been with intimately on this ship.

“One is Squelch―obviously―and then there’re the twins―who came on to me the week they came onboard and haven’t so much as lifted their tails in my direction since. Though, even that―while being the next best thing to ‘public knowledge’―is, and I cannot emphasize this enough: none of your Celestia-banished business!” He at least had the marginal satisfaction of seeing the pegasus wince away. “And I don’t constantly roam around the ship talking about it because I’m not a colossal ass!”

“Hey―!” a gruff masculine voice could be heard coming from the kitchen.

“Shut up, Cookie!” Slipshod snapped, not looking away from Valkyrie. “I’m in the middle of something here!”

The earth pony opened his mouth to continue, but hesitated, his gaze darting briefly to the galley and the ponies who were most assuredly not paying any mind to the screaming stallion just down the corridor. He grunted and turned around. “My quarters; now.” At least there’d be a modicum of privacy there for them to finish this ‘conversation’. Valkyrie trudged tensely behind him in silence, appearing to find the ship’s deck immensely fascinating.

When they’d finally arrived at his cabin, the stallion had had some time to calm his own ire. There was no sense in leaping any further down the other ‘Steed pilot’s throat than he already had. At least, not before finding out why she said those things to Emery File in the first place. It wasn’t like the pegasus mare to stir up drama this way. She’d certainly never done it in the past. He’d appreciate knowing why she was doing so now.

Slipshod motioned the mare inside and closed the door. He took the bed to soothe his now much aggravated aches, and gestured for the pegasus to take the chair at the little desk he had. The earth pony took a deep breath and regarded the other pilot for several seconds before starting. “So let’s hear it: why did you tell Emery that I was telling ponies we were sleeping together?”

Valkyrie shifted uncomfortably beneath his hard stare. “...Because I thought you were?”

His eyes narrowed. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re always going to her quarters...” she began lamely, now only seeming to realize how flimsy the foundation for her suspicions were.

“...Because I have an appointment to get hooficures,” Slipshod reminded her bluntly. He held up one of his hooves, showing her the well-filed and polished surface that was the product of frequent treatments from the unicorn mare who’d recently assaulted him in the galley. “Like I told you. Specifically.”

“You said you only got hooficures 'sometimes'!” Val protested.

“...And the other times we’re talking about her sister and nephew.”

The azure mare balked. “...What?”

Slipshod rolled his eyes. “Her sister gave birth to a colt about three months ago. She’s been gushing about being an aunt ever since, showing off pictures to anypony who’ll stop and talk to her for five seconds,” he explained, “she thinks her nephew is the cutest thing ever―which, he is pretty adorable, actually” he admitted as an aside, “and she can’t wait for her contract to be up so that she can go back home and start a family of her own.

“She’s been bouncing baby names off me for a month so she can get a shortlist together to send her husband.”

“...You talk about baby names?” The mare said skeptically.

“At length,” Slipshod responded with a deadpan stare off into the distance, borne of many hours spent reading over flowing lists of names from every corner of the galaxy. That they’d managed to narrow it down to two dozen―twelve colt and twelve filly names―was nothing short of a genuine miracle, in his opinion. “Though none of my suggestions made the list,” he added with a slightly bitter note.

The feathered mare was taken aback, apparently mystified by the concept entirely. “But what about all of the other ponies on this ship that you’re always with?”

“What about them?”

“Why do you spend so much time in their quarters? Don’t try and tell me you’re talking about baby names with all of them!” She demanded. “And you’re always kissing that one unicorn tech!”

“You mean Channel Lock?” The mare nodded, a smug expression on her face as she sensed catching him in a lie. “She’s from Mareseilles. Little pecks on the cheek are how close friends greet each other there,” he said dryly, “you can ask anypony else on the ship.” Valkyrie was looking less sure of herself now.

“And of course I’m not talking about baby names with all of them. Don’t be absurd,” Slipshod frowned. “It depends on the pony. For example: Channel Lock likes to have somepony to ‘riff’ on bad movies with. She and her brother used to do it all the time when she was back home. She gets kind of homesick out here, so I come by every couple of weeks with some drinks and snacks and we put on a cheesy movie and make jokes about it.

“It really does make those films much more fun to watch,” he chuckled, “I highly recommend it.

“High Gain is a fan of karaoke,” the stallion continued, “but―unsurprisingly―not many other ponies on the ship are willing to do it with her. She’s fine just singing to herself most times, but she doesn’t like to do duets alone, and those songs are some of her favorites. So I drop by to sing with her.” He shrugged. “She says I have a great singing voice, but I’m not convinced. When her bunkmate gets a few drinks in her, she’ll join in too on backup vocals.

“Soft Prose likes somepony to read over her short stories before she submits them for various anthology publications,” Slipshod said, now summarizing more succinctly as he began ticking off others, “Axel Rod needs a spotter for his workouts. Faraday says I’m the best armature masseuse on the ship. Rigger wants a model for her drawing…” He listed off the various ways that he went about spending time with the ponies on board the Galloway, and had been for a long while. With each revelation, Valkyrie’s surprise only seemed to grow. Eventually the stallion trailed off and regarded her warily. “Why is any of this so surprising to you? What did you think I was doing with them?”

The pegasus shifted uncomfortably for several seconds before responding. “Well...when we’re planetside you’re always bringing ponies back here,” she looked candidly at the stallion, “and it’s sure not ‘karaoke’ I’m hearing through the wall every night!”

Slipshod rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah, I’m obviously screwing those ponies.”

The other ‘Steed pilot jerked with an incredulous wave of her hooves. “Well how am I supposed to know who you are and aren’t fucking?!”

“Frankly, you’re not," he deadpanned, "because―and let’s go ahead and go over this again: it’s none of your―”

“―none of my business. Right,” the mare sighed, rubbing the bridge of her muzzle with her hoof. “My point is that it’s not exactly my fault if I assume you’re doing with crewmembers what you’re doing with random barflies, now is it?”

The earth pony stallion blinked at her, dumbfounded. “...It’s absolutely you’re fault, yes. That’s how ‘fault’ works. You could have, you know, talked with anypony on this ship about what we do when I come by. You know that, right?”

Valkyrie frowned and looked away, pouting. After a few seconds she glared at the stallion once more. “You flirt with me all the time,” she charged.

“Because you like it.”

The pinions of the mare’s wings prickled. “I do not―!” She sputtered in vehement protest.

However, Slipshod was not the least bit swayed by her purported incredulity, leveling an impassive expression at the mare. “You like everything about it,” he countered. “You like that a stallion you think is good looking,” the mare bristled and opened her mouth to refute his assumption but he held up a hoof to silence her and pressed on, “finds you physically desirable. You especially like knowing that you have the power to rebuke the advances of good looking stallions and they can’t do anything about it but continue to pine after you like you’re some sort of noble heiress. It gives you a feeling of control and boosts your confidence.”

The mare’s mouth opened and closed several times without uttering a word as she sought out a point which she could rebuff, but eventually gave up and folded her hooves across her chest indignantly. “Even if that were true―which it isn’t,” she insisted coolly, “it doesn’t explain why you don’t treat me like the other ponies on this ship and just spend time with me like you do with Channel Lock and Emery File and all of them.”

It was Slipshod’s turn to look incredulous this time. “What are you talking about? We hang out and just talk all the time!” he protested, throwing his hooves in the air in exasperation, despite the pain such sharp movements caused him. “For literally hours at a time while we’re on a mission. We talk about anything and everything! I talk to you more than anypony else on this damn ship!”

Valkyrie was looking abashed again, biting her lower lip as she realized that the two of them did spend a vast quantity of their days chatting merrily away while in their ‘Steeds. Most of their jobs were about one percent action and ninety-nine percent idling in their cockpits. Nearly all of that idling was spent gabbing about just about any topic that took their fancy. Some days she even marveled at how waywardly their conversations seemed to meander. They’d start out talking about the local topography and end up musing about the color preferences of Federated Moons nobles, only to finish up pondering the question of which was invented first: shampoo or coat wash? And what was the difference anyway?

Slipshod massaged his temples with his hooves. “What more is it that you want from me, Val? We talk about whatever it is that you want. We joke with each other constantly. We give each other advice. We share meals. So just tell me: what part are you unsatisfied with?” He asked in a defeated tone. “Because I’m at a loss here.

“Something nudged you to stir the pot on this ship,” he continued with a frown, indicating the open wound on the side of his head which was scabbing over nicely. Doc Dee would probably berate him for waiting so long to come by the Med Bay, but this situation with his partner was something that he felt needed to be resolved sooner rather than later. “And whatever it is, I want us to fix it before it gets out of hoof.” He thought for a brief moment before adding as an aside, “Well any more out of hoof.”

“I guess…” she squirmed uncomfortably, “I just want to understand.” She was kneading her hooves now. “I mean...there’s no way that the corny lines you feed me are enough to get ponies to actually follow you back to this ship?” Slipshod nodded in acknowledgement. While he had no doubt that he could find ponies who only needed a stiff drink and a compliment to lift their tails, those were never truly satisfying partners. “You absolutely could rut any pony on this ship you wanted,” she grudgingly admitted, adding with a note of defiance, “except me, obviously.” The stallion nodded again, a small smirk sneaking onto his lips.

“...So why don’t you?” The pegasus finally asked. “Why aren’t you mounting the ponies on the Galloway left and right like you do in port?”

“Because that’s not how you build long-lasting relationships with a lot of ponies at once,” the stallion replied simply, shrugging his shoulders. At the mare’s quizzical brow-quirk, he sighed and elaborated. “There is no such thing as ‘no-strings-attached sex’. At least, not if you want there to be more than just the sex. Adding sex to a relationship adds a level of intimacy that is just...not something that you can have with dozens of ponies. At least not with ponies who aren’t also okay with that sort of thing.

“Yeah, I could probably take things up a notch with one of the ponies I hang out with regularly―other than you, of course,” he added with a smirk, earning a frown from the feathered mare, “but doing that at this point would mean having to scale back on the time I spend with the others.

“It’s natural to get...possessive of the ponies we care about. Any pony on this crew I might get with would inevitably wonder if they were really the only pony that I was with like that. Some of what I do with these ponies―Faraday’s massages, Rigger's model drawing―they’re pretty...intimate activities already.

“Would you be okay with your coltfriend dropping by a mare’s quarters every week to give her a rub-down?” He asked pointedly. Valkyrie shrunk down and shook her head slowly. “You’d want him to stop, right? Even if you never actually told him to stop, you’d prefer that he did, right?” A small nod. “And until he did, there’d be this little cloud of animosity between you and that other mare, as you would always wonder―in the back of your mind―was it really just massaging that was going on?” Another reluctant nod.

“Now picture that, but going on between dozens of ponies on this crew. It’d be like walking on eggshells―for everypony. I don’t want that happening on the Galloway,” Slipshod insisted. “I want everypony to be friendly and happy. There’s not a lot of space onboard, and ships can become a powder keg of drama very easily; making life very uncomfortable very quickly.

“So I’m doing everything I can to keep that from happening. Which includes abstaining from taking any of these relationships I’ve cultivated with the crew to the ‘next level’,” he offered a wry smile, “if I need that particular ‘itch’ scratched...well, that’s why I bring my, uh, ‘guests’ onboard while we’re at a port. That’s just two ponies looking for a good time, not a long time, and both of us know it.” He winked at the mare.

Valkyrie was rubbing her foreleg now, feeling like a filly who’d just been given a dressing down by her father. She swallowed, “...So you’re really not sleeping around with anypony on the ship? Every time you’re going to somepony’s quarters...it’s just to...hang out?”

“Pretty much,” he said with a shrug.

Silence reigned in the small cabin for several seconds. “I owe Emery an apology, don’t I?”

“I’m sure she would appreciate it,” Slipshod said.

Valkyrie’s eyes darted briefly to the open wound on the stallion’s head. “And you too. Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I can forgive you for not knowing,” he said with a nod, “but, for not even asking first? We’ve spent over six months gabbing, and you never thought to ask about what I’m doing every evening?”

The pegasus gave a helpless shrug. “I thought I knew,” she protested meekly. “I mean, you cheated on Squelch with another mare...I just sort of figured you were a…” Valkyrie let the sentence trail off as she seemed to try to come up with a polite way to phrase things before finally giving up, “...y’know?”

“Letch? Horndog? Slut?” He offered helpfully, wearing a wry smile. The mare nodded. Slipshod maintained his wry smile for several more seconds, nodding his head as well. “I can see that. I mean, looking objectively at it, I must seem like an absolute sex-fiend...to have not thought that I’d be caught cheating...by my wife...in the quarters that we shared...knowing full well that said wife was on the ship at the time.

“It could be argued, in fact, that a pony like me was just begging to be caught in the act.” He looked now at the pegasus, sharing a knowing look with her. “Yup. A real strong argument to be made there.”

Valkyrie cocked her head to the side in confusion. “Are you saying―?”

“I’m saying that anypony who did what I did deserved to be caught,” he interrupted, shrugging off her question, “there was no way that I was going to get away with it. That’s all that I’m saying, and all that I ever will say on the matter. Now,” the stallion stood up abruptly―perhaps a little too abruptly, given how much his head started to spin. Just perfect, he inwardly groused. He walked away from having his ‘Steed thoroughly shredded with hardly a scratch on him, but got a concussion eating breakfast. “I think that covers everything, and I need to get to medical.” he reached out a retrieved a towel and a bag of shower sundries. “After I wash the coffee out of my mane.

“If you still have any burning questions, I ask that you save them for later. Perhaps as a topic for discussion during our next mission together?” He turned and left the room, heading for the showers.

“She got you pretty good,” Doc Dee mused as his magic maneuvered the curved suturing needle deftly around the forceps gripping the tail of the thread. He was currently finishing up the last of the four stitches that Slipshod’s injury had required. There had been the obligatory ridicule about waiting over an hour to finally report for treatment, but the earth pony had anticipated as much and brushed it off.

“I’ve never been more glad that Cookie doesn’t have metal carafes,” Slipshod said with a sardonic smile.

“Hmm,” the physician responded. A pair of scissors floated over and snipped away the excess. The white unicorn leaned in and gave the site of the injury a final inspection before nodding in satisfaction and pulling away. “I’m still going to be keeping you here overnight for observation,” he said, “I’d rather have you vomiting here than in your quarters if a concussion does set in.”

“You and me both.” Slipshod eased himself back onto the patient bed and made himself more comfortable. His eyes darted briefly to the third pony in the room. Well, third and fourth, counting the security mare that had been assigned to watch over their guest. “So what’s the plan for her? You’re not just going to keep her drugged forever, are you?”

Doc Dee glanced over his shoulder at the purple alicorn as he began to put away his tools. “I honestly don’t know,” he admitted, “she was quite delusional and agitated when she woke up the last time. Physical trauma I can treat, but I’m not very familiar with mental trauma. She’ll need a specialist. I’m concerned that anything I might try would only make her delusions worse.”

The earth pony was quiet for a moment, then, “So you think she’s crazy?”

“You don’t?” The doctor flashed the other stallion a skeptical look. “Calling herself 'Twilight Sparkle' and screaming about a chrysalis? She had a pretty convincing ‘crazy rant’ going, in my professional opinion,” he snorted.

“She woke up five centruies out of time,” the earth pony pointed out, “with a case of severe mana burn, and after being put through the wringer in some pretty gnarly ‘Steed combat―for what was probably for her―just yesterday.

“You heard her: she could barely remember what she was doing before being put in stasis. Something like that? Even I’d need more than two minutes to sort out what was what.” He shrugged. “For all we know, she was just having a really bad nightmare and was too disoriented to know what was real and what wasn’t yet. Maybe she thought she was still dreaming!

“We should give her some time to process what happened to her,” Slipshod suggested to the ship’s doctor. “Maybe she’ll make a little more sense when she’s not freaking out after waking up in a strange room surrounded by strange ponies.”

“Hmm,” the unicorn rubbed his chin, “I’ll...talk it over with the commander.”

“Talk what over with me?” Both stallions turned to face the doorway as Squelch walked in. Her eyes darted briefly towards the sedated alicorn and her guard, but quickly found their focus on Slipshod. “Should I assume it has something to do with whatever went on in the galley?”

“That’s all been dealt with,” the golden earth pony assured her quickly.

“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you,” the emerald mare shot back tersely, narrowing her gaze at the ‘Steed pilot. “Now what happened?”

“Just a misunderstanding,” Slipshod insisted. “Val and Emery thought I said some things. I didn’t say the things. Other ponies verified I didn’t say the things. Everypony’s apologized and we’re all moving on with our lives.”

The company’s owner held her critical gaze on the stallion for several long seconds, and he was worried that she would press him for more details. She was well within her right to, of course; and he’d give them to her if she insisted. However, he didn’t need anypony else making a bigger deal about this than already had been. Emery didn’t deserve to be punished for an honest mistake.

Finally the unicorn made a noise that suggested she wasn’t entirely satisfied by his response but was willing to let the matter drop―for now―and instead turned her attention to the doctor. “So then what is it that needs to be discussed with me?”

“Her,” Doc Dee indicated the purple mare on the nearby bed, “and seeing if we can get something more coherent if we ease her into adjusting to the situation. Admittedly, yesterday wasn’t what I would have called ‘ideal’ as far as introductions were concerned.”

Squelch raised an eyebrow. “Are we thinking the mare claiming to be the Queen―who’s still on Equus last I checked, by the way―isn’t actually crazy?”

“Her delusions might simply be temporary,” the physician pointed out, glancing briefly at the nearby earth pony. “Slipshod pointed out that we don’t know what long-term stasis exposure might do to a pony. If we give her a chance, she might level out.”

The mare frowned skeptically. “And the fact that she’s clearly altered herself to look like an alicorn doesn’t suggest that she was delusionally before going into stasis?”

“Maybe she’s not the Queen, but still an alicorn,” Slipshod interjected calmly, earning looks from both unicorns. “You said it yourself, Doc: you learned in history about how there used to be two alicorns and one got banished.” The earth pony waved a hoof at the purple mare. “What if we found that one? What if this is Discord?”

“Wouldn’t that be all the more reason not to wake them up?” Squelch pointed out. “The greatest threat that the Harmony Sphere’s ever known?”

“Not too much of a threat that the Doc couldn’t dart her from behind,” Slipshod pointed out, smirking at the physician, who merely rolled his eyes. He looked back at the green mare. “Besides, doesn’t this make your plan ever more workable? Who better to tell you about Disciple caches than the pony that founded them!

“But she can’t tell you about any of it if you never let her wake up.”

The mare still seemed unconvinced. “Their leader seems like the last pony who’d help us dismantle what’s left of them.”

“Maybe,” he conceded with a shrug, “but we don’t lose anything by trying, do we? Worst case scenario: we knock her out again and drop her off on Canis when we get back and collect the standard bounty.”

This time their commander remained silent for a long while as she stared pensively at the alicorn mare, weighing the merits of Slipshod’s suggestion. Finally, she said, “Alright.” She looked to the physician. “Get her lucid, get her up to speed on what happened to her, and get her ready to answer some questions in the morning.” Slipshod opened his mouth to suggest more time be given to the effort, but Squelch cut him off. “I just got commed from the surface an hour ago. Argent put out a press release to their shareholders announcing that they’ll be undergoing some ‘executive restructuring’ over the next month or so. Ferrous is confident that means they’ve caved and won’t be sending any more raiders to attack their sites. They’re terminating our protection contract.

“A JumpShip leaves the system in twelve hours, and we’re going to be on it,” she continued. “Tomorrow morning we’ll be heading for Canis orbit to collect the rest of our agreed upon fee and buy what we need to fix up the Wild Bronco.” She briefly glared at Slipshod, who cringed away slightly. “She has until we enter orbit to convince me not to give her over to the authorities there.

“So either get her talking sense, or get her packaged for a transfer.”

Doc Dee shrugged and sighed. “I’ll work out a plan. I can probably bring her around while keeping her calm.”

“Fine by me,” Squelch said. She hesitated, glancing back at Slipshod, her eyes darting to the recently sutured cut on his head as her expression softened for a brief moment. “You’re positive this won’t be an issue in the future?”

The earth pony gave her a wan smile and nodded. “It’s been resolved. Promise.”

A beat, then, “Alright. Call me when she’s ready to talk, Doc.” And with that, the unicorn mare turned and left the clinic.

“If you’ll excuse me,” the ship’s doctor said, turning from Slipshod towards the clinic’s exit as well, “I’ll need to collect some notes from my quarters if I’m going to do this right.” He was frowning. “I’m a little rusty on my pharmacology where anti-anxiety meds are concerned. I haven’t had to deal with psych patients since my Fellowship…” The unicorn grumbled as he left the room.

Slipshod cracked a wry smile and chuckled. As a general rule, the kinds of ponies who pursued the life of a mercenary were rather mentally resilient. He glanced over at the other bed for a moment. Then he looked to the guardsmare standing watch. “Hey, Puttee?” The mare glanced over at him. The stallion grinned at her, and pointed at his head. “I, uh, didn’t really get to have much of a breakfast this morning before I got brained.

“Could you run down real quick and pick me up a to-go plate, please?”

The mare frowned at him, glancing between the earth pony and the slumbering alicorn. “I’m not supposed to leave the prisoner unattended―”

“She won’t be ‘unattended’,” Slipshod interjected with a dismissive wave of his hoof, maintaining his smile at the mare, “I’ll be here! Come on,” he pleaded, affecting a properly pitiful, if blatantly exaggerated, expression, “I’m starving, and it could be hours before Doc orders up anything from the galley.” The mare looked furtively, biting her lip as she looked between the stallion and her charge. But he sensed her hesitation. “When’s the last time I ever asked you to do anything for me?”

They both knew the answer. He almost never made requests of the security mare. Conversely, it went without saying between them that he’d done a great deal for her over the last several months. After another few seconds of agonizing over the dilemma, the mare finally let out a defeated sigh and looked over at the stallion. “What do you want?”

“Just some oatmeal and orange juice would be perfect.” The earth pony was beaming again. “Thanks, babe!” The security pony turned to leave, but Slipshod stopped her just as the door opened. “Oh―!” He hesitated, made a big show of thinking over what he had intended to say, and then shook his head and waved her off. “No; nevermind. Oatmeal and juice is fine, I guess.”

“What? What is it?” the mare asked.

Again, Slipshod visibly hesitated for a short bit, then, “I just remembered that Cookie makes omelettes to order today. But that’d take a while. I don’t want you out there any longer than you have to be. So forget about it. Oatmeal and juice,” he reaffirmed with a definitive nod of his head.

The security mare sighed and turned around. “...What do you take on your omelette?”

“You’re sure? It’ll probably be like a ten minute wait or something…”

“Just tell me what you want, Slip,” she said with a―not quite―exasperated sigh, paired with a lopsided smile.

“Three cheese with tomato and peppers?” The earth pony stallion said with a grin. The mare turned around and headed out. “But still with the orange juice!” She waved an acknowledging hoof as the door closed behind her.

The stallion’s grin fell away instantly. He didn’t have long.

Slipshod slipped off the exam bed, wincing slightly at his protesting body and swimming head. Not exactly the most ideal of circumstances, but there was no helping that. Ferrous’ early termination of their contract and the subsequent premature return to Canis had greatly accelerated the timetable he thought he’d have to work with. He needed to get this mare on the right page, and fast. Otherwise, he’d lose his chance.

And she’d lose her life.

He stepped into the doctor’s office and sat down at the terminal there. He’d learned the physician’s passcode a long time ago, back when he and Squelch were married. The systems on this ship had been set up by her, and she’d had a way to override everypony’s otherwise ‘secured’ systems. She never used it, of course, but it was sometimes necessary to have a backdoor into the personal files of the crew. Such as when one of them died and the files needed to be passed on to their next of kin along with the rest of their personal effects.

Since he’d been her right-hoof-pony, Slipshod had had the access as well. Squelch had changed the access codes that would allow him to use that backdoor since―probably the night she’d found him in their bed with that other mare―but Doc Dee had not changed his. Why should he, when he didn’t know that somepony had had a way to just look it up?

The earth pony logged on to the system and accessed the medical records for the alicorn. Specifically he looked over her medications. He noted the last time the sedatives had been administered and at what time. The earth pony then logged back out and walked―stiffly―to the medical cabinet. He drew out a dose of the counter-agent, along with a smaller dosage of the indicated sedative. He now had everything he needed.

Slipshod approached the slumbering alicorn and inserted the counter-agent into the IV line feeding into her foreleg. “Rise and shine, Princess,” he murmured, “we need to have a chat.”

It only took seconds for the drug to take effect and clear out the effects of the sedative. The purple alicorn began to stir on the bed, her eyes fluttering open. “Huh?” She was still obviously groggy, and would continue to be. Slipshod had made sure not to give her enough counter-agent to eliminate all of the sedative in her system, but she should at least be able to be cogent with her thoughts. “Where…?”

“We don’t have a lot of time,” the earth pony informed her candidly, “so I’m going to need you to do a lot of listening and zero talking, understand?” Even if she didn’t, neither of them had the luxury of making her. “You have been in stasis for five hundred years. Everypony in the Harmony Sphere ‘knows’ that Queen Twilight Sparkle is―and has always been―on Equus.”

The alicorn stirred at this, blinking her blurry eyes and looking over at the stallion, shaking her head as fervently as her lethargic body would allow. “She’s not…”

“So you say,” Slipshod interrupted, an ear swiveling towards the door to listen for approaching hooves, “but you’re not going to convince anypony on this ship about that any time soon. They think you’re a Disciple, and they’re ready to give you over to the Canis authorities―to Queen Twilight―unless you can give them a reason not to.”

The mare’s tired face scrunched up in confusion as her wayward eyes looked both at―and past―the earth pony stallion’s face. “Wassa D’scible?”

“The crest on the ship you were in,” he hastily explained, “the crossed horn and antler? Whatever that meant five hundred years ago, it’s the mark or a terrorist cult today. You were on that ship, ergo you’re part of that cult.”

“S’notta cult…” she insisted weakly.

“Maybe not when you went into stasis,” Slipshod conceded, “but it’s been five hundred years, Princess,” he reminded her, “a lot has changed. Today, the Queen...considers them terrorists,” he stressed, staring hard at the alicorn, “...understand?”

The pair held each others’ gaze for several long seconds. Then the purple mare finally nodded, slowly; saying nothing.

“Good. When Squelch talks to you tomorrow, you’re going to want to give her something that shows you’re worth keeping around. Losmagitek, old ‘Steed barn locations, Disciple caches, something.

“Or the Queen gets you.”

She was still for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “...Why are you helping me?”

“Because I need you to help me,” he replied simply.

“Help you what?”

The earth pony stallion jerked up and looked towards the door. Hoofsteps were approaching. He drew out the syringe with the dose of sedative. “We’ll discuss that later.” He depressed the plunger into the IV administration line. The mare looked like she was about to protest, but whatever she was going to say came out as little more than a distressed moan. A few seconds later, she was unconscious again.

The clinic’s door opened to admit the security mare bearing a tray containing a freshly made omelet and a large glass of orange liquid. Slipshod rolled over on his bed where he’d been laying and grinned at the returning mare. “You’re too good to me, Puttee; thanks a lot!” He sat up as she deposited the tray on the nearby table, flashing the stallion her own wry smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes as she trotted back over to the alicorn’s side and resumed her post. “Did she give you any trouble?”

“I think we hit things off, actually,” he said, grinning broadly, “she’s an amazing listener!” He began to eat his―very―late breakfast.

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