//------------------------------// // Eastern Diplomacy // Story: PaP: Bedtime Stories // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Oracle felt a strange metal floor under his hooves, and smiled slightly at the clacking sound it made as he walked. Of course, the main reason he looked down was the terror he felt every time he looked up. If he did, even for a second, he was forced to see where Archive had taken him. The ground shook beneath him anyway, listing back and forth as it flew. It had no wings to carry it, not like a pegasus or a bird, yet it seemed to hold its own weight in the air without trouble. How it could do so, he couldn't even imagine. The craft itself was perhaps the size of a small sloop, though it lacked a sail. Strangest of all was the crew. No other pony stood on the small craft, just a half dozen... creatures. Creatures like the ones he had seen in his vision of the last battle to come, fighting alongside ponies. Tall beings without fur except on their heads, with a strange connection to magic that no other species quite shared. They were more than twice his height, taller than even a gangly pegasus would've been, taller than Archive. Yet for all their size, the Alicorn looked only coldly confident. She was the only thing cold about where he'd come. The air was quite warm and moist, even at altitude. "Where are we going?" he asked, following Archive to the bow of the strange flying vessel. The Alicorn rested her forelegs on the bow, looking down. Wheel followed her gaze, expecting to see some battlefield on the front of the invasion of his own country. He would have to watch her take it over now, watch her armies storm the cities he loved and overturn the rule of his friend. All because he'd refused to give up his slaves. That still seemed like such a petty reason to be willing to kill. He saw no snowy mountains, nor did he see the tight valleys and rocky peaks of his homeland. Instead he saw an ocean, filled with hundreds of ships. They were no trade ships he knew—not the metal of the Alicorn's own country, not the wooden two-masted sailing ships that most other nations used. Instead they had many masts, with strange ribbed sails and unusually flat, wide decks. Their little flying ship was obviously flying towards the largest, most imposing of the ships, the one with bright red and gold flags waving from its tallest mast. That ship looked bigger than some castles, with four different decks and thousands of ponies moving about atop it. The sheer volume of wood, the cost, the massive metal dragons mounted to the side of the ship, catching the sun... an imposing sight. "To bring the Emperor back with us to the Hyperion. He... may have brought a few more ponies than we were expecting." She looked back, selecting one of the strange creatures among many. The only one who wasn't wearing any armor, or carrying any weapons. While all the others wore thin, glittering glass crystal, this creature had only a white robe, open at the front. She was also the oldest of the beings here, her face wrinkled and her hair going gray. "Athena, how's the hammer doing?" "Ready to fire at your command," she responded, in a language Oracle couldn't understand. He understood it anyway. He seemed to be able to understand every language now, or at least every one he'd heard. The Supernal had been a strange place. "Adjust firing range so that the resulting swell won't damage any of these ships," Archive ordered. "We want a warning shot, not a shot heard 'round the world." The female figure nodded. "Repositioning THOR-1 will take several minutes." "That's fine." Archive gestured down at the sea below them. As she did so, a half dozen armored ponies joined them in the air, flying alongside them on either side. An honor guard sent from one of the ships, gesturing directions down to the deck. The pilot obeyed... or at least Oracle assumed they did. Oracle didn't see any sort of controls. "I do not anticipate a need to fire soon." "You should," one of the nearby creatures spoke up, wearing a dark gray crystal armor inlaid with gold filigree along the edges. Her eyes were bright blue, mane to match, though it was cut so short she couldn't style it. Oracle only guessed she was a female from the high pitch of her voice. "Memory, look at all the wealth and power they've gathered here. Imagine the effect on their will to fight if it were to be destroyed." "I do," Archive answered, eying her sternly. "Imagine the stories that would be told of when Archive gathered an enemy for peaceful parley and murdered them under the flag of truce." "What are you?" Oracle couldn't help himself. He stared at the alien, mouth hanging open. "You still haven't told me what we're doing here, Archive. Aren't you invading Switzerland right now?" She shrugged. "Crusaders are. I hate to break it to you, Oracle, but half the reason I even noticed that country was because you lived in it." She shook her head, pointing down at the ships. They seemed to go on forever, floating dragons as far as his eyes would let him see. If each one had a crew of a hundred ponies (and some seemed to have far more ponies than that judging on their size), this fleet might very well have more people in it than half his country. A hundred thousand sailors. Nor were all the ships intact. A fair few of them showed minor damage—burns along their frames, missing masts, torn sails. A few ships only limped their way back towards... wherever this was. "China," Archive supplied, answering the unasked question. "This is the ninth, or tenth, or... honestly, nopony knows how many there have been. Each one is just China, though. They've been conquered, invaded, colonized, but they always get back up." "History repeats,” Oracle answered, as they angled down between two of the massive masts. A section on the largest deck appeared to be cleared for them, easily large enough for a dozen of their little flying sloops. Around it gathered hundreds and hundreds of soldiers dressed in metal armor and armed with rifles. Firearms, with a radically distinctive design to the ones his own nation's soldiers carried. Wooden barrels instead of metal, though with a faint sheen of magic to them. They probably won't shatter when they're fired, he thought. They touched down as light as a pegasus feather drifting in a breeze, but even so the wood creaked and strained under their weight. It didn't break, thankfully. The first thing Oracle heard was laughter. A roar rose from the ship, so loud that the whole thing seemed to shake. He blushed, raising one wing to cover his face instinctively, stepping close to Archive. For all she had claimed to be his mother, she didn't really act like it. Forcing him to kill himself for her arcane purposes, then taking him immediately into some... insane diplomatic mission. Couldn't she let him take a break? He'd ascended to the next plane of existence, seen the truths that hid behind time's lies, and he hadn't even earned himself a day's rest. "No one speaks to the Emperor but me," Archive said, her voice just loud enough that Oracle could hear it over the laughter. "Address him, but speak to the advisor, he'll be the one with purple robes but no crown. Never, ever contradict him." Then she looked down to Oracle, and her expression softened. "You don't have to do anything, Oracle. Your presence here shows I have a strong lineage—that I have an immortal bloodline." "But..." He lowered his voice, conscious of all the many stares. "I'm not." "No," she agreed. "But you won't volunteer that, and neither will I. He will draw his own conclusions." The laughter finally died down. Soldiers crowded in close to their sloop, pressing to the strange metal and looking in at the open deck. The deck at the front abruptly flattened into a ramp, which smacked flat onto the ground directly in front of them. Oracle stepped a little closer to Archive, feeling her warmth. It soothed him, settled his racing heart. Whatever else happens, this pony has the power of an Alicorn. She helped me reach the Supernal. She can get us out if things go badly. Even so, Oracle was already missing his old king. Indolent, lecherous, but at least he had left Oracle to his research. "This is the flagship of the mighty Idyia, Goddess of the West?" said one of the ponies near the front of the ramp, dressed in armor that was subtly different than his fellows. An officer, Oracle guessed. It was still strange to hear words he knew he shouldn't understand, yet still hear them. Strangest of all, the ponies he spoke to seemed to be able to know what he said as well. The means of this communication still defied explanation to him, but he hadn't investigated. "No," It was the smaller, female creature, the one with the blue mane and gold armor. As she stepped forward, her helmet settled down over her shoulders, becoming an opaque black glass. "This is her transport ship. We were to introduce her to the Emperor and bring his Divine Eternal Wisdom with us to the flagship." She pointed into the overcast sky. "The Hyperion has trouble launching from this low in a gravity well." Somehow this being knew their language—though Oracle could not speak it himself, he could tell she was using the same one the officer had used. More silence. Soldiers shuffled about uncomfortably, and the officer cleared his throat loudly. "You might have some difficulty with your task, foreigners." He flicked his tail up a deck, where many ponies gathered near a balcony. Among them Oracle could see a few in white or purple robes, being shown obvious deference compared to the rest. "The Steward of Heaven travels only with his court. Two hundred souls will not fit on so small a vessel." All eyes turned on Archive, waiting for her response. She stepped forward confidently, towing Oracle along as she did so. For all the impressive armor of her troops, she alone wore nothing more than her fur. She didn't use the language these ponies understood, but instead the one the tall aliens used, her words slow and clear but no doubt unknown to all who listened. "Ask for us to be taken to meet with the court. Someone radio Isaac and let him know we'll be expecting two hundred more guests. Ask him to please fly into the lowest possible approach vector. Below the clouds, right now." All this was done. Oracle followed in a daze, forcing himself to put one hoof in front of the other and follow behind Archive at the very front of their strange procession. On either side were the armored aliens, not a single other pony among them. The gods keep strange company. Yet he couldn't even take solace in that. Oracle had seen the truth inside of time—he knew there were no such things as gods. They were led through the ship. Searched by guards, though himself and Archive were spared this. It was easy to see they weren't hiding weapons when they weren't wearing anything a weapon could be hidden inside. The upper deck was completely different from the one they'd left. Ponies here did not wear armor, but fine silk robes in bright colors of all kinds. Musicians played haunting melodies on stringed instruments he'd never heard of, faint plucking sounds accompanied by a single talented female vocalist. There were many tables and much sweet-smelling food, all of it set on jeweled or gold plates. Ponies gathered in small groups, conversing over their meals and watching the strangers approach. At the very center of the deck, on a slightly raised platform separated only by a few unicorn guards, was another group even more exclusive than those surrounding them. At the very back was a throne, and on it rested a pony. An earth pony, with a coat gone gray with age, a mane and beard shaved into a strange style Oracle had never seen before, but one that seemed common among the elderly stallions here. He alone wore bright gold, with round seals embroidered into the robes and glittering with gemstones. There were so many layers it was impossible to know for sure where the Emperor's body began and his clothes ended. They reached the open space in front of the throne, close enough to see the smaller chair resting at its base and another pony sitting there, in purple robes. Dozens of others in similar robes (though less decorated) surrounded the throne like a small ocean, unicorns making notes on scrolls or inspecting them with skeptical, disapproving eyes. At once, the ponies all around them rose to alertness. The music stopped, and every citizen and soldier turned to bow. Not to Idyia, the immortal plainly before them... but the aging, ancient stallion on his throne. They prostrated themselves on the ground, every single one of them flattening to the deck. The motion was so unified that the whole ship rocked just slightly. "Not you," Archive whispered into his ear, so quietly that only he could hear. As she said it, their escorts all dropped to their knees as well. They didn't flatten themselves to the ground as these Chinese ponies did, but they did show respect. Archive remained standing, her back straight and wings folded to her side. She didn't so much as nod her head, only waited. Oracle did the same, though he felt only fear as he did so. This is the sort of thing that gets ponies killed. Even his own king would have thrown a pony into prison who refused to bow to him. Whispers went up from around them, mostly from the guards that had brought them here. It seemed as though they were all watching, waiting to see what the Emperor would say. The ancient pony gestured, and with his hoof everypony around them began to rise. No sign of violence from them, just the end of the bow. That single gesture caused activity to resume all around them. The music started, conversations began again. Mostly whispered ones, under the circumstances. Everypony aboard the ship with even a shred of a view seemed to be watching. It wasn't the Emperor who spoke, but the purple-robed advisor below the throne. "Emperor Zhang Xiao Long is not impressed with the might of your flagship, Goddess of ponies far away. He expected to be a guest aboard a mighty and proud creation, worthy of the deeds you showed him in your visions. Yet you arrive like driftwood floating to rest at his hooves." Archive didn't answer herself, but nodded to the short, blue-haired creature. She did not remove her helmet, but spoke from within, her voice distorted and pitch-shifted even lower than it already was. "Idyia's flagship is high above us, past the clouds themselves. It never descends below heaven." There was a brief, whispered conversation. Even Oracle couldn't hear it, with his enhanced Alicorn hearing. He could've used a spell, but... considering the power of this pony, he suspected that wouldn't be appreciated. Even if the emperor wasn't a unicorn, there were many around him who were, and would certainly notice such interference. "Why wait until now to mention it, on a day with so many clouds and no way to prove the words you say? The Steward of Heaven is not impressed." Archive did not speak, yet the blue creature with her gray armor always seemed to know what to say. "We beg the Emperor's indulgence. Perhaps we might discuss the matter at hoof until the ship arrives. Idyia does not expect any pony among you to believe her words without witness. The Hyperion has very nearly cleared the clouds." The Emperor nodded directly to her, a smile playing across his ancient face. Oracle didn't hear his words, but a second later the advisor repeated some of them. "A moment for such strange visitors, who land aboard my ship in a tiny iron chariot." The advisor gestured, and at once a half-dozen servants came rushing forward, depositing a low table beside Idyia and setting it with tiny plates and shallow bowls. The servants poured clear liquid into both bowls, before levitating one up to the Emperor's lips. Only when he had taken one sip did they offer the other to Idyia. Archive took it in her own magic, smiling appreciatively up at the Emperor. No words were exchanged, except for a meaningful look. Then Oracle heard it—something roaring in the air above them. At first, he thought it must be a dragon, a true one to match the metal sculptures carved onto every ship floating here. Oracle had never actually seen a dragon in person, though he had heard plenty of stories. Stories about hundreds of ponies slaughtered by one, a creature as big as a building that could rain fire and was armored with impenetrable scales. Then the clouds broke, and Oracle saw his dragon. A rigid metal dragon, so large its shadow fell over the whole ship and much of the sea around them. It had a huge metallic ring around the back, while the front section stretched forward in what looked like at least a kilometer of interlocking metal. Protrusions he suspected were weapon systems emerged from the ship at numerous points, while others had glittering glass windows. “洋鬼子!” the advisor shouted, nearly falling out of his chair. Many other ponies pointed and shouted, and even the Emperor stared. Oracle shared their shock, and stared just as open-mouthed as the ponies all around him. Only Archive’s soldiers seemed uninterested. And Archive herself. “If it pleases the Emperor, I will make a passage directly to the ship. His court may walk with me into heaven, where we will stay for the duration of our meeting.” Staring faces turned to stare at Archive instead, who seemed to know their language in addition to the one she spoke to her aliens. Then the Emperor spoke, rising slowly to his hooves. “I will go.” For the second time in just a few minutes, every pony Oracle could see turned to bow, alien soldiers not exempt. Oracle moved to follow, but was stopped by a gentle touch from one of Archive’s wings. “You bow to nopony, Oracle. Not me, not Athena, not Gaia or Ruin or Charybdis. Nopony.” The portal spell she cast turned out much the same as the others Oracle had seen her perform, except that this one had a purposefully large entrance, wide and tall enough to permit a dozen ponies at a time. Archive cast this spell without visible effort, though she did stand still and focus on it once it had appeared. On the other side Oracle saw a wide, metal-walled room, with a vaulted ceiling and the preparations for a meal already in progress. He waited beside Archive as some of her guards then the procession led the way through. Only after some number of the Emperor’s own soldiers and dignitaries had made it through and reported back that there did not appear to be danger did the Emperor himself (accompanied by his large procession) make their way through the door. “You planned it this way,” Oracle whispered to her, using his own language as he did so. “You wanted them to underestimate you. You wanted them to laugh. You had to know what they were expecting… why not just come through with your— “ “My Starship,” she supplied. It wasn’t a word Oracle had ever heard, though the meaning was obvious. “Yes, that. Why not bring it to begin with?” “Because that’s the way she does things,” answered the short, blue-haired guard. Only one of two who hadn’t departed through the gateway at this point. It would soon be time for them to follow as well. “You get used to doing things one way, and you come to rely on it. People always seeing you as small and weak. People always taking it for granted that they can roll you over.” “It is not… in the interest of the Union… that other nations should be fully aware of our abilities.” Archive said, her response slow and measured. “If they knew Athena herself was helping us rebuild, they would be afraid. Or… they should be, at any rate.” She turned slightly to one side, where the elderly alien stood. Her hand kept shaking, in a way Oracle could remember well. He had been that old only two days ago. “Athena, how long would it take for you to dismantle this nation?” No hesitation in her response. “I calculate thirty-one days until complete surrender. Sixteen years until subjugation has become secure.” “Then what’s the point of this meeting?” “I know, right?” The blue-haired alien rolled her eyes. “We could have a few bloody years, then be done with the whole thing. No more sorcerers anywhere, no more traitors, no more slaves. Rip the band-aid right off.” “Because.” Archive cleared her throat. There were no others from the court aboard this flagship who seemed to want to use the portal. She gestured for the others to go ahead of her. “Because the end of one nations sews the seeds of what will bring down its successor. If we conquer the world ‘for their own good,’ what precedent will that set?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “One our enemy can use.” Oracle stepped through the portal.