Chapter 1 - The Cellist and the City
The Manehattan Station shone like an amethyst star suspended in the depths of space.
It was the greatest of the twelve stations that formed the core of the Grand Equestrian Empire, and the number of ships orbiting it and waiting for their turn to dock and unload travellers and goods from all across the galaxy only served to reinforce that fact.
Anypony who was anypony wanted to come to Manehattan.
The city contained within it was a wonder among wonders, a marvel of modern magic. The towering, metallic buildings of the city rose to incredible heights, the tops of the very tallest almost scraping the magical dome that kept the city habitable. Networked between them were thousands of walkways, ramps, bridges, and trains that crossed countless times, creating a pattern more complex than even a hundred star spider webs.
Octavia Melody made them her stage.
The slate earth pony leaned heavily on her cello, guiding the bow over its strings with a delicacy that mere hooves should not have allowed. Unfortunately, the crowds simply continued to trot by, their hoofsteps drowning out each and every melancholy note.
Redoubling her efforts as she entered the piece’s final movement, Octavia concluded it with a ridiculous animato allegro and a tacky flourish. The act left a bad taste in her mouth, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Besides, flair did not necessarily have to preclude artistry.
She offered a grateful smile as a unicorn tapped her BitCard and it chimed – the sound of bits being transferred to her account. “Thank you,” she managed between heaving breaths. The smile fell away when the unicorn just shrugged and continued on his way.
It took substantial restraint not to bring her instrument down on her “benefactor’s” head.
She hated this. She hated the endless and uncaring crowds. She loathed playing in the streets for bits like this. She couldn’t stand the way they made her feel like just another poor earth pony, begging for her daily bread.
But, in the end, that was what she was.
The city’s upper tiers belonged to the pegasi and unicorns. She might look like one of the socialites from the upper tiers, but they could see right through her. The faded color and fraying edges of her pink bow-tie. A mane growing beyond her ability to keep it styled. Bags under her eyes from too many sleepless nights. The scuffs and scratches that her instrument bore. Every part of it added up to a pony pretending she was still part of high society.
Octavia sighed and glanced up at the dome. Night was starting. The amethyst shell above would dim until it was nearly black, the dull, fluorescent light of day would give way to night’s garish neons, and the walkways would finally start to empty.
She often wondered why they bothered with night and day. To honor some Alicorn princesses that only existed in stories? In memory of a planet that ponies had abandoned centuries ago?
The growling of her stomach brought her back to the present. She had more immediate problems to concern herself with. “Thank you, fillies and gentlecolts,” she announced to the crowd. “I shall be here again tomorrow if you would like to hear more.”
Nopony begged for an encore. Nopony cheered. Nopony applauded.
Nopony even looked at her.
After depositing her cello into its case and easily flipping it onto her back, she checked her BitCard. Even with the grim specter of rent looming over her, she could at least still afford some of the luxuries she treasured. Like dinner.
~~~~~
By the time Octavia reached the depths of Manehatten, night was almost in full effect. All around her signs flickered into life, their worn and battered magic circuits barely producing the power needed to keep them operational.
A cold breeze caused her to shiver. The weather schedule had listed the temperature as moderate, but she should have known better than to trust it; the climate systems below Tier 40 had been malfunctioning for weeks and maintenance pegasi still had not done a thing about it.
Trotting to stay warm struck her as a good idea, right up until she stepped in something squishy, slipped, and nearly lost her instrument over the walkway’s rail. She barely suppressed a growl while scraping the mystery mess – the endless array of revolting possibilities did not merit consideration – off her hoof.
The middle tiers of Manehattan were well maintained, but the lower tiers? Not so much. Nopony cared how they looked. It didn’t matter if the sign above your business sparked, if trash piled up in front of your door, or if the walkway was stained with things she would rather not think about. Down here, there were more important things to consider. More immediate things. Food. Running water. Magic. A place to sleep.
It chafed, but what could be done? The unicorns made life in the Empire possible and ruled it accordingly. The pegasi controlled the climate systems, served as the Empire’s police and military forces, and were naturals when it came to spaceflight. Earth ponies… earth ponies just labored on the agricultural stations or did menial labor in the cities. They were just second class—
She shook her head violently. No.
She was letting her stomach get the best of her. Everypony had their part to play. They all had something special to contribute. There was some value in everypony’s life. Her cutie mark told her that and she believed it. If she didn’t, then why even bother trying?
She finally trotted up to her destination, a narrow storefront wedged between two housing blocks. An unlit sign hanging over the door read “Hay! Burger.” The interior didn’t look any better: it was tight, dimly lit, and featured only a hoofful of tables and small cushions. It did not make for a comfortable dining experience, but it was clean, it was close to home, and, most importantly, it was cheap.
“Hey,” the pony behind the counter grunted as she entered.
“Good evening, Line.” She removed her cello case and leaned it against the counter before clambering onto one of the cushions, grateful for the chance to finally rest her aching hind legs. “Something good, please. I don’t care what.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You came to the wrong place if you want something good, Octavia.”
“Filling is good.”
“That I can do,” he said. “Coming right up.” A few minutes later Line dropped a dish off at her table. “There you go. House special.”
“Thank you,” Octavia said. He also cooked quickly – another definite benefit. Ignoring the fact that the hay burger somehow managed to look both under- and over-cooked at the same time, she took a giant bite. Etiquette be damned: the diner was empty, the food was there, and she was hungry.
Once she finished, a cup of water washed away the worst of the aftertaste. She missed real hay and greens. Synthetic foods might meet all her dietary requirements, but saying they tasted like plastic would have been a very generous understatement. Besides, eating them made her feel poor. Which, while the truth, wasn’t exactly a feeling she liked to foster.
Still, Line could at least get something resembling actual flavor out of SyntHay. That, and she owed him for letting her eat on credit every now and then.
Octavia briefly considered ordering another burger, but better sense prevailed. She needed to save the bits for a rainy day: another burger now could be the difference between life and death later. She let Line charge her BitCard, thanked him for the meal, and stepped back out onto the walkways.
Even if night and day looked nearly identical this deep in Manehattan, the ponies still acknowledged the change. She watched idly as the crowds thinned, the shops closed, the bars and clubs opened, and the street ponies started to hunker down and find places to sleep for a few hours.
Octavia had that going for her, at least. She wasn’t sleeping in the streets. Yet.
Not that she considered her home that much of an improvement. Stepping through the building’s main entry, she walked past dozens of identical doors. Even having lived here for a few years, she still needed to read unit numbers to make it through the maze of indistinguishable hallways.
She nodded silently at her neighbors as she passed them, receiving nothing more than an occasional grunt in return. These housing complexes did not exactly make for friendly communities. She imagined most ponies lived in them for the exact same reason she did: it was the cheapest housing in the station.
A quick swipe from her BitCard unlocked her door – she didn't know why she bothered locking it; it wasn't like the cheap, magic lock could actually keep anypony out.
A light switched on as she entered, bathing the windowless room in anemic light. Not that Octavia needed it. She’d managed to memorize the layout of the room, a minor accomplishment considering herself and her cello occupied most of the available space.
Despite knowing some of that filth lingered on her hoof, dealing with the shower stall just felt like too much effort for her right now. The hay burger sat heavily on her stomach, and the low, narrow bed that occupied one of the walls looked uncharacteristically inviting. The thought of laying down in this state disgusted a small part of her, but the parts that just wanted to crawl into those scratchy blankets and bring an end to today outvoted it.
She could start fresh tomorrow.
~~~~~
The shaking of her room tore Octavia from sleep as she half fell out of her bed.
Images of disaster consumed her immediate thoughts. Was the building collapsing? Could the station be falling apart? Meteor shower? A changeling assault?
Her sleep-addled brain took a moment to work out that the shaking of her room was the not a sign of imminent disaster, but rather the result of a thunderous bassline. She snarled as she struggled to push herself back into bed.
I might kill somepony, she thought. As her cello case fell over and managed, against all odds, to smack her square in the muzzle before making it to the floor, she amended that thought to, I am definitely going to kill somepony.
Octavia’s startled thrashing had tangled the sheets around her legs, forcing some complicated maneuvers to free herself from the hundred thread count shackles. Death would be too good for whatever pony was responsible for this racket.
Once outside, it only took her a moment to find the source of the infernal sound: the corner unit she shared a wall with. Of course it would be a neighbor. Her life would be too simple if it were somepony she didn’t risk running into over and over again.
She pounded on the door, surprised to find that it was a reinforced model, rather than the standard plastic shell. Between that and the infernal racket, she doubted the pony inside could hear her. While the idea of screaming at the door appealed viscerally, she knew adding to the cacophony would probably only come back to bite her in the flank. Instead, she just resigned herself to hammering impotently on the door for a few minutes in the vain hope that she would be heard.
As Octavia hit the door with everything she had, the lock panel caught her eye. It did not look like one of the cheap, bottom-of-the-barrel models the units came with. The panel had a number of options displayed… including a buzzer so guests would not have to pound on your door like savages.
Dropping back to all fours, she spent a moment composing herself before she tapped – quite a bit harder than necessary – the panel. She waited a few seconds and felt a rush of satisfaction as the noise quieted to a dull roar and the door finally opened. “Yeah, what’s u—”
“There are ponies that are trying to sleep right now,” Octavia snarled, “And they do not appreciate it when some idiot starts blasting noise at whatever bloody hour this is. If you do not put an end to this insufferable racket, I will personally throttle you and I doubt a single pony on this block will report me for it! Is that understood?” She took a deep breath as her tirade ended. Blood rushed to her face as a sense of decorum crept past the rage, but she couldn’t back down now.
The pony who had answered the door just stared back at her, mouth hanging slightly open. At least Octavia presumed she was staring back; the opaque glasses she wore made it impossible to see her eyes. She started to comment on it, but then she noticed the horn.
A unicorn. She lived next to a unicorn. She lived next to a unicorn who she just finished threatening to choke. That definitely seemed to fit the day’s pattern.
To her surprise, the unicorn set a hoof on her shoulder. “Sorry ‘bout that! My sound dampening spell must have worn off. Hard to notice if I’m not paying attention to it. Totally my bad.” The unicorn offered a broad grin. “I’ll fix it right now, no worries. Cool?”
Octavia bit back a “No.” She might still be mad, but that didn’t excuse being rude... especially if this idiot unicorn wanted to be so bloody nice about it. Besides, picking a fight with a unicorn rarely ended well. Now seemed like a good time for grace. "Thank you," she forced. After a second she added, "And sorry for yelling. I'm just very, very tired."
"No prob, I totally get it. I'd be pissed too. Tell you what! Let me offer you a real apology for wrecking your night! Hang here a sec, okay?"
"It’s fine, don’t worry—" Octavia started, but the unicorn was gone before she could finish, leaving her standing in front of the open door. The half-open door hid most of the unit from view – it would be rude to snoop on somepony else’s home without being invited in anyway – but she could not help but notice the custom console and the giant speakers attached to it. Something like that probably cost a small fortune, and this unicorn just left the door open? How stupid.
Retrospectively, Octavia hadn’t demonstrated much better judgement herself. Pounding on some strange pony's door in the middle of the night and threatening to throttle them? This situation could be playing out quite differently right now, and very few of the scenarios she imagined ended well for her. Why in Tartarus would a unicorn with the bits to burn on a console with a top-end sound system live this low in the city anyway? That console probably cost more than she had made in the last three years!
"Here you go!" the unicorn said as she returned, levitating a piece of paper over to Octavia. "Consider this a full and thorough apology!"
Octavia stared at the paper, squinting as she tried to make it out through the electric blue haze of the unicorn's magic. It read – in rather atrocious form for someone who didn’t need to use their mouth to write – "This pony is to be given the VIP treatment tonight. Got it? -Vinyl".
Octavia raised an eyebrow.
"There’s a club a few tiers up: Crazy Horse. Info's on the back." The unicorn flipped the paper over, revealing an ad that Octavia remembered seeing plastered all over a wall near Line’s place; that combination of neon blues, greens, and reds splattered haphazardly over the paper and topped with the club’s name and location in brilliant yellow worked in concert to burn themselves into her eyes and mind alike. "I play there. Just drop by whenever you want and I guarantee a good time! Food, drink, whatever you want, on the house!"
"Thank you," she mumbled, taking the paper with her teeth. With her anger spent, all she wanted to do now was go back to sleep.
"No prob! Just show that to one of the ponies at the door when you come by!”
Octavia walked slowly back towards her own home, clutching the paper in her mouth. She restrained a yawn and shook her head. She expected tomorrow to be bloody awful after that interruption, but, for some reason, she didn’t care.
~~~~~
Lyra Heartstrings sat alone in the depths of the Manehattan Library's stacks, surrounded by thousands and thousands of ancient books. This place represented the greatest treasure trove in the entire Empire, and not a single pony shared the cavernous room with her. She levitated a few carefully selected books off several shelves, coughing as Celestia-knew-how-many years worth of dust poured down around her and filled the air.
"Excuse me, Madam Heartstrings?" The librarian spoke quietly, like he didn't want to be heard. “I was wondering when—”
"Soon. Now leave me alone. I will let you know when I’m finished." She didn't even bother to turn and face him.
"O-of course. I will check on you later.”
If he kept bothering her, she might just tell him to go home and then worry about closing the library herself. Lyra might have lost her position on the council, but the name “Heartstrings” still carried some weight.
She returned to the tables, adding the new books to the already massive collection she had accumulated. Using the consoles upstairs might have been more efficient, but she preferred the books. She could feel them. She could put her hooves on them. She could trust them.
At least she thought she could.
Lyra pulled two books towards her. Both were histories of the Grand Equestrian Empire. Both told the exact same story. Yet there was something bothering her. Their stories didn’t add up. They made sense as she read them, but whenever she went back to analyze them? There were contradictions. Gaps. Inconsistencies.
Pony civilization often seemed to jump forward by leaps and bounds without explanation or cause. Very little record of life before the stations existed, despite clearly possessing quite advanced magic. The three tribes apparently decided to desert Equestria for no apparent reason. The stations, magic that must have required hundreds of thousands of hours of work to even conceptualize, apparently appeared overnight.
Why were these histories not rife with speculation? They seemed to gloss right over the fact that entire patches of the Empire’s history did not seem to exist.
What had started as simple research for her book on the history of the Unicorn Council – the entire thousand year legacy, from its founding by King Bullion to the modern installation – had transformed into a maddening endeavor. Questions that had never occurred to her before, but seemed blindingly obvious now, kept leaping out of books. More worrying, though, was the fact that whenever she started to really dig into it, without fail, an answer would present itself... sometimes even in books she knew she had already combed through every page of.
Which shouldn't be possible. Books were static. Unchanging. But here she sat, long after most ponies would be asleep, tearing through book after book, unable to shake a feeling that they were hiding something from her.
Lyra sighed and pushed those books away. This wasn’t getting her anywhere. She pulled a book from one of the stacks at random, using her golden magic to keep that literary tower from collapsing. She did not envy the reshelving staff. Tomorrow would not be fun for them.
Noticing what book she’d grabbed, she chuckled. The Two Sisters. Now there was a classic. It contained at least a dozen different stories about the Alicorn Princesses who held dominion over the sun and moon and used their powers to rule over Equestria. All fiction and myth, of course, but she'd loved it as a filly. She might still have an actual, physical copy somewhere at home too.
She flipped idly through the book until she hit a chapter entitled "The Elements of Harmony." That...
Six ponies sat at the cafe, laughing and joking beneath the brilliant sun. Lyra slouched on the bench – everypony teased her for it, but she found the position comfortable – staring at them. She could scarcely believe that those ponies found the Elements of Harmony, defeated Nightmare Moon, and even saved Princess Celestia…
Lyra blinked. As quickly as it had appeared, the scene vanished, leaving her alone in the library with an open book. That had been… a memory? She wanted to call it a daydream, but something about that felt wrong. That had to have been magic. But how? And, perhaps more importantly, why?
It looked like this night was far from over. She set The Two Sisters aside and started digging for more books that mentioned the Elements of Harmony.
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I was going to read this story when I noticed it had Octavia playing a prominent role.
Then I saw the words "Space station" in the description.
I have a weakness, and it is space and spaceships. I am SO looking forward to spaceships with best pony!
EDIT: I should probably mention for prospective readers that from what I can tell in the first chapter, it's competently written and enjoyable.
Though it could use more space ships. There's never enough space ships.
This shows promise, yes. I'm anticipating seeing the "Ponies... IN SPACE" aspect take a bigger, more prominent role in future chapters, as I am definitely somewhat of a sucker for sci-fi.
^ May want to fix that typo in the synopsis. I'd hate for someone to bypass this gem because of some minor grammatical errors in the intro, the way I almost did.
4584124 And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you also run your synopsis through a beta reader. I'd originally had that sentence arranged completely different and my brain just derped over changing what version of "your" I was using.
Thanks for pointing it out.
Hot damn. I agree with Jonny here; more spaceships would be awesome, but this sounds fantastic. I'm seeing all sorts of different character and plot buildups here and I'm very excited. I've been looking for another bigger story to get into and this is exactly the kind I'm looking for. Space-themed sci-fi? National conspiracies? And of course the quest of a low-tier character to save everything ever? All of my yes. Vinyl and Tavi are best pones.
Love this.
Hmm this is a good start. It makes me wonder if Lyra is going to get in trouble trying to uncover these possible secrets in those books.
Anyway keep it up, something is bound to happen and I'm itching to read more.
4622352 Well, my plan is to try and maintain fairly regular updates, so hopefully that itch can be scratched soon enough.
OK OK this is definitely a good start... now onto the next chapter
Something has rewritten history and radically altered their timelines... I suspect Pony Davros!
I love sci-fi as much as the next guy, but this seems a bit farfetched. I do like the fact that this is based off some of the "less important" characters though. Also, is there a sequel? Because if not I really,REALLY want to make one after I've finished with some of my story backup. I would also settle for making one based off the same universe as this. But if you have a problem with that, I won't.
from it’s founding
1. Its.
There are ponies are trying to sleep right now (you are missing a word)
Oh yes, this. This is the kind of stuff...the worldbuilding, the writing the characters...fics like THIS are why I read and love FimFiction. Thank you.