Evening Star Also Rises

by Starscribe


Chapter 15: Shaking the Firmament

Hayden had almost nothing of what she needed. She didn’t even have the passable set of tools she had commissioned from the castle blacksmith. But Hayden had spent years of her life as a general contractor, and years before that in the military. In neither of those careers had “not having what she needed” been an excuse. She wouldn’t let it be in Defiance, either.

Besides, though she lacked almost anything of what might’ve been considered essential by others, she had the one thing that just couldn’t be done without—labor. Princess Luna had not given her a deadline, nor would her absence be much felt in Harmony. She hadn’t done much yet to integrate herself into the court there, and anyway her tutor had been banished because of their brief tryst.

The longer she lived with the soldiers, the less urgent the need to return to Earth seemed. Being ponies did not make their suffering any less poignant, as perhaps she might’ve felt less compassion for the state of a factory farm or some other group of animals back on Earth. Even if I do make it back I’ll probably be a vegetarian for life after this. And I don’t think I’ll ever look at glue the same way.

There was one way to soften the skepticism of Defiance’s ponies, and that was success. A few weeks later, and they’d finished the “icebox”, complete with everything her plans had called for. By the time a month was out, her newly appointed “geology team” had discovered deposits of limestone, gypsum, and iron pyrite. Everything they would need for the next stage of her plan.

Success won support—first from Captain Lodestone, then from his men, and eventually even from the ever-acerbic Unified Standard. They built kilns, limestone furnaces, and a forge. By the time two months were out, every soldier without a duty shift was putting in a few hours somewhere, either with new construction projects, lime, or with the expanding agriculture operation. By three months, they had enough trust in Hayden to risk next year’s grain ration (what part of it wasn’t moldy) in the newly fertile fields.

Quality of life changes came too—a water wheel on the river meant they could grind grain for flour instead of mashing it into a disgusting gruel. A skilled blacksmith to make molds and endless pony-hours with nothing to do meant she could start mass-producing pipes. Pegasi to control the location of rainfall meant she could fill a huge water tower to drive the whole system without even inventing pumps (which was good, since she had no idea how to make anything more advanced than an Archimedes screw).

What communication they got from the castle was never good. Princess Luna wrote her only to say that the situation in court “wasn’t improving,” and that “nasty rumors” were starting in Icefalls. Somepony had apparently connected “Evening Star” to them, though Hayden couldn’t imagine how that might be. Luna had not said—possibly because it was infrequent court messengers who delivered the messages, instead of anypony from the army.

As for shipments of needed supplies for the soldiers, there were none. Had it not been for their ability to control the weather, and create a pocket of spring in the ocean of endless winter, Hayden didn’t doubt that the whole fort would’ve frozen and starved long ago.

She spent much time with the soldiers during those months—really did eat with them, as she’d promised she would (and that had been what spurred her to suggest a water wheel for grain instead of the awful mash they ate). Hayden’s small quarters expanded to a wooden workshop of fair size, along with a half-dozen assistants to act as messengers and scribes. “Lady Star” spoken with spite was replaced with “Specialist Star,” which she liked much better. She even started wearing a uniform like the officers, though without any rank or medals. Her fictional noble rank entitled her to both, but she didn’t claim them. Somehow, it seemed like the ponies respected her more the less she took advantage of such privileges.

Most surprising of all, the soldiers fighting on Equestria’s northern border seemed completely unconcerned with just how strange she looked. Very rarely did they stare, even upon their first meeting with her. Most of them just seemed to assume she was a pony from “somewhere far away and always dark.” Hayden encouraged this rumor, though she continued to refuse to give specific details.

Life for the soldiers of Defiance got better, and every new (old) innovation she stole from human history opened the door to more. Harvesting the remains of cookfires for potash gave way to chemistry, and a handful of “alchemists” Hayden set to work isolating useful elements from the fractional distillation of charcoal production waste gas.

Still, she knew there was a ceiling upon what she could teach these ponies. Everything she’d given them so far required no special technology to implement (like germ theory) or had been well understood by the time her own species had reached the middle ages. Some of it (like making lime) was already known to pony society, just not the army.

But the longer they worked, the closer they came to a level of development that could not be overcome without an entire society worth of supporting infrastructure. There was only so much twenty thousand bored soldiers could do on their own.

Every innovation became a new headache for Hayden, and she was filled with fear anew that some difference in Equestria’s laws might not permit her ideas to work. She wasn’t a scientist and never had been, so she couldn’t have said the reasons why. But she still had that fear, even as it was consistently disproven.

In the end, the disruption to Hayden’s work did not come from anything she had done, or even the work of the other soldiers.

Hayden was wearing one of her blank uniforms when she entered Captain Lodestone’s office. She greeted his secretary with a polite nod, and the captain with a bow. Not a salute, since she wasn’t actually military.

“Sir, did you want a report on the forge? It’s on-schedule. At this rate, we should be casting iron…”

Lodestone waved a dismissive hoof through the air. “No, Evening Star. Nothing to do with the forge.” He gestured to the cushion on the other side of his desk.

Hayden sat, taking a moment to appreciate the design—the desk included an intricate carving of the fort, an accurate model with the locations of troops and supplies in the wilderness for hundreds of miles around. Icefalls itself was even marked with a tiny dot, on the furthest extreme of the desk. Only the area right in front of Lodestone on the other side was kept flat for use in writing or reading. There was an official-looking scroll there even now, thick paper bound with blue and black ribbon. An official message from the princess.

“What do you know about the princess? Have your sources in Harmony told you anything?”

Hayden shook her head. Her sources didn’t exist of course, but everypony seemed to think they did. In reality, Hayden had only a constant, low-level knowledge of the princess’s emotional state, which would bleed over into her own if she wasn’t careful.

Having something to build was a great distraction, so she didn’t get her own feelings crossed very often anymore. She let her mind drift a little… and very nearly fell out of her seat. There was so much pain, fear, distress… how had she missed all that for so long?

Lodestone appeared to have seen her expression, because he nodded gravely. “You already know, then. I admire your restraint in not sharing this information with the soldiers here. I’m afraid we’ll have to share this with the others, though—if information spreads through Defiance as forbidden rumors instead of confirmed facts, it’s going to undermine everything you’ve done for morale at a time when it’s desperately needed.”

“Tell them what?” she asked, her voice quiet. “My information was vague, I don’t have any specifics.”

“That’s because there aren’t any.” Lodestone reached out towards the scroll, rolling it up with one wing. Impressive dexterity from a limb without any fingers. “All we know is the attempt on her life wasn’t successful. We know nothing about who was behind it, or their possible motivations. Apparently the princess is badly hurt but expected to recover.”

I doubt that. If she was hurt, shouldn’t I feel it like she did when Celestia attacked me? That means the message is a lie. The despair Luna was feeling right now was so intense Hayden could scarcely sense it for more than a few seconds before pulling away again. There was a gravity to it, like a black hole threatening to swallow her too. Hopefully she can sense my feelings. Maybe I can be an anchor for her. But it wasn’t physical pain. There was no reason for her to lie to her soldiers, so why would the scroll have said otherwise?

“What else does the letter say? Any word on whether Equestria is under attack, or if I’m supposed to return?”

“It… explicitly forbids your return, in fact.” Lodestone didn’t bother trying to hide his surprise. “Which makes no sense. I thought you were our princess’s most trusted confidant. Wouldn’t she want you back at such a sensitive time?”

She might, or she might not. Her sister, though… “I assume you’re going to act as though Equestria might be under attack?”

Lodestone nodded sharply. “I’ve already passed the message along to the forts along the border, and they will have to do the same. I’m afraid this means a return to combat drills for my soldiers—they won’t be available to help with improvements to Defiance for the near future.”

At least he didn’t look smug or satisfied as he said that. A lesser commander might’ve been thrilled for the excuse to end her bossing the soldiers around—though she had always used the proper channels, always only put in requests and recommendations, they both knew who’d been running Defiance for the last few months.

“I wonder if…” She hesitated. “I might be permitted to keep a dozen of the ponies I’ve been training the most. My engineering team. A dozen ponies wouldn’t be so many to sacrifice out of thousands—even if we wouldn’t be enough to run the mines or finish building a forge, we would be able to keep working on smaller projects. Prototyping, plumbing…”

“I’ll consider it,” Lodestone said. “Get me a list. I’ll give you a dozen non-command ponies. But if we’re going to do that… we’ll have to consider that field promotion again. You can’t command anypony if you’re a civilian.”

“Fine.” Hayden shrugged her wings. “If that’s what it takes. And I know it means I’d have to go through… training or whatever, that’s fine. I’ve been through all of this before. Just so long as I can go back to Harmony if I need to. If the princess needs me…”

Lodestone nodded. “If you need to leave, you could just resign the commission. Your house gives you that ability, so long as Equestria isn’t at war. That scroll says we aren’t, but… I am skeptical. My officers will be as well, I have no doubt.”

“All the more reason to keep my team intact,” Hayden said. “If Equestria went to war, I can’t imagine your supply problem would get better. Civilian populations would go from unwilling to support you to unable. The path we’re on leads to self-sufficiency. Prosperity, even. What we really need to do is spread what we’ve been doing to the other northern forts. All Equestria’s fortifications, eventually. Imagine the whole army being self-sufficient!”

There were serious problems with that proposal—after all, an army that wasn’t dependent on the state might very well decide it should become the state. But so long as Princess Luna was leading them, Hayden couldn’t imagine that happening. They all love her. If anything, they’d probably just overthrow her sister and make her queen.

“That isn’t my decision,” Lodestone said. “But General Autumn might be willing to consider it. We need to go to Icefalls…” He lifted up the scroll with one wing. “We can’t walk on the edge of a knife like this. We need our orders—should we be mobilizing to defend the interior? Should we prepare for an attack? We need to know!”

He gestured frustration with his wings, and she rose to her hooves instinctively. “I’m departing tomorrow morning at first light. If you’d like to accompany me to make your proposal personally, you may. A field commission from General Autumn would be more authoritative than mine.”

And maybe I’ll be able to see Nightbreeze again. Princess Luna had a palace in Icefalls, after all. She should be easy to find. “I’m guessing we’ll be flying? So I can’t bring anypony who can’t fly.”

Lodestone nodded. “I can’t risk my absence from Defiance any more than a day. It’s quicker to Icefalls than to Harmony, so there’s no chance of being delayed. With the roads as they are, it would take over a week to walk.”

Hayden made her way out as quickly as she could. She had a limited time to capitalize on this new information before it became general to the camp—she would have to use it well. In particular, to secure the loyalty of her engineering ponies.

First came her chemist, a pegasus named Honed Edge she had recruited from the blacksmith. His talents had been wasted in sharpening spears, and he’d taken to what chemistry she could teach him with only minimal instruction. Just now, she wasn’t sure what she’d do without him.

“Sure, I’ll join your team,” he said, when she explained there was about to be a change in command. “It doesn’t make much difference to me. Working here in the lab, or out their sharpening weapons… I’m not a pony you have to convince.” But she could hear the lie in his voice. It was obvious he preferred working in the lab than doing the same dull, identical tasks day after day.

“Good, because you’re the pony I want to come with me. We’re flying to Icefalls tomorrow, and I want a pony who wasn’t an officer to be there to vouch for our success. Someone to tell General Autumn how well we’ve done.”

Edge stiffened, and he puffed out his wings suddenly. “W-wait a minute. General Autumn is going to be there? I have to… testify before her?”

“Yes.” Hayden waved a hoof dismissively. “But don’t worry. I know you’ll do fine. Just tell her everything you’ve seen, answer her questions. No speeches or anything like that.”

He looked over at her from across the distillery. She couldn’t tell at a glance what he was making today, but her nose told her it was acetone. The glass wasn’t clear like a laboratory distillery back on earth might’ve been, so it was hard to see exactly what was going on inside. Hayden was impressed enough that a pony glassblower had been able to make it.

“Not excited about this,” he said. “Not that part. But a trip to Icefalls? Do I have permission to tell the others I’m going?”

It was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “You can’t tell them why. Or that there’s a change in command coming. I don’t want ponies fighting over who gets to stay on the team and who must go back to their regular duties. Almost everyone is going to be going back into duty rotations, so that’s an argument nobody wins.”

“Oh, nothing like that. I was just going to collect bits and buy supplies from Icefalls. For a… modest fee.”

She shrugged. “Whatever, I’m not your commanding officer yet. Just don’t cause any trouble in camp, or you’re not going.” She made her way through the lab, recruiting her chosen ponies one at a time. Every single one of them was excited for the chance to remain with her—loyalty was one of the criteria she’d used to choose them, after all. Too bad about this apparent assassination. A year from now, and I would’ve had electric lights.

That was an exaggeration—but not entirely untrue, either. Shouldn’t this be working for you, Luna? I’ve been out here learning all kinds of things about command and politics. Have you learned my lessons back in Harmony?

Apparently she hadn’t, because somepony had tried to kill her. What happens to me if Luna dies? She didn’t know, but for the moment it seemed the mystery went even deeper. Not only had they received an “official” message lying about her injury, but somepony didn’t want Hayden back in Harmony. It seemed strange that it would be Luna, who had expressed no desire to have her back during all the months Hayden had spent in Defiance. Would Celestia lie about her sister being hurt? Why not want me to come back? Maybe the smart thing to do was head straight back in defiance of the instruction. But then, if Luna had sent it…

Hayden’s self-appointed purpose in Equestria thus far had been improving the lives of its citizens via human technology. That gave her something to do, and that was good. But there was something deeper, something she couldn’t dismiss.

If Luna’s in danger, I have to help her. It wasn’t a whim, but an absolute in the back of her mind. Luna had done little to earn her loyalty, but she had it all the same. It didn’t matter what the scroll said. If they learned anything in Icefalls to suggest that the princess needed her, even a hint, Hayden would go. The ponies of Defiance would have to make do with what they’d learned so far, and the plans she had made for the future.

They’d saved enough lives. It wouldn’t be a bad legacy to leave behind.

If she did have to leave, she would regret never having had the chance to get to know Lodestone better. Maybe before I’m promoted. There’s still time on the flight over.

Why can’t anything be simple?