//------------------------------// // Business Deals // Story: Twilight's Kingdom of Steam // by Darthvalgaav //------------------------------// “Excuse me, Mr. Arm Shell?” Arm Shell, owner and founder of Armory Inc., looked up from the ledger he had been working on for the last several hours which was full of red marks. He was a slender, elder thestral with a grey coat and, behind the goggles of his mask, had eyes that had long since lost the zeal he had in his youth. Back then, he had been hopeful that the small factory he had opened up would grow into something more or, better yet, change location to somewhere more noticeable. That he’d be able to provide better working conditions for his employees who had stuck by him. Yes, he had been a dreamer once. Reality, however, had long since set in and that reality was that it was a struggle to keep the doors open every month while having to hire his daughter to act as his secretary. Who, by the way, was the mare standing at the door. He did not answer her right away, instead looking at her curiously as she in turn looked around his office with a look of nervousness. It seemed very odd to him that she would be doing something like this all of a sudden, for she had been in this tiny room hanging at the top of the factory many times before. She had never seemed embarrassed by the piles of papers with grease stains on them before nor had she eyed the bottles on his desk with contempt before either. It was also very odd that she would address him so formally. Everypony here knew that she was his daughter so there was never a need to pretend to be anything but. “Yes?” he finally asked. “Are you ready?” she asked, the nervousness heavy in her voice. Oh, if only she could see the frown on his face at that moment. “Ready for…” he responded, circling his hoof in the air in a gesture of impatience. If this was some sort of game or joke Shell found it highly un-amusing. Not while he was under this much stress. “Your meeting,” she hissed. “Princess Twilight is here for her meeting with you right now!” As she said this, Arm Shell felt his heart stop for a moment. He had remembered several nights ago getting a letter in the post with the royal seal on it stating that Princess Twilight Sparkle wished to meet with him. To become a client of all things. When he had first read the letter he had thought it was rubbish, a joke on him played by one of the other ammunition companies out there and nothing more. After all, why the thunder would the crown be interested in his tiny business? The best out there was, and might still be, Storm Breaker Ammunition. Like every thestral in Automahollow he had heard about Arms Dealer’s tragic end, unable to handle the grief of losing his son he had drowned himself in the river a week ago. As soon as the news came out he had heard that several of the other weapon manufacturing companies out there were relieved to have lost their biggest foe, believing that soon the big grits would come knocking on their doors. Arm Shell didn’t see it that way. While they had taken some big hits with the bad press, the founder of the company dead and the son in jail for life, they were not out of the game entirely. No doubt there would be a period of chaos where everypony who worked there was trying to figure out who was in charge or fighting to make themselves the boss. However, Arm Shell felt like it would not last too long for it to matter. Then, once the dust settled, they would make some big announcement before cozying up to that new princess from Equestria that all the thestrals were talking about. Even if Princess Twilight were to cut her ties with Storm Breakers, something he firmly doubted she would do, there was no reason for her to bother with his tiny operation. Not that he was ashamed of it or anything like that. No, he still had a spark of pride left in his business which had never missed a shipment date since the doors first opened. Nor had they had anypony coming to them complaining of a weapons malfunction! Everything that left his shop was of the highest quality he could provide for his few clients. But with that said, he couldn’t see why the Princess would be interested with them. None of their weapons were military grade. Mostly of the lighter variety along with a few hoof held models. Things more suited for the common pony than for the military. So, really, why would she come here? Clearly she had not done her homework. “Well,” began Shell as he looked around. For a brief moment, he had thought about asking her to stall for a bit. To give him time to quickly tidy up. But one glance around his office told him it would be a losing battle. It would take hours to pick everything up, throw out the stained rug in the middle of the floor, and make the pace look presentable. Heck, it would take a week to remove the lingering odor in his office. Besides, if she was coming through the factory then she had to see what they could and couldn’t do. “Bring her in,” he said in a defeated tone. His daughter nodded nervously, her eyes darting towards the bottle on his desk. “Make sure you get rid of those at least,” she hissed before hurrying off. Shell rolled his eyes behind his mask at that. Ever since she had read the papers about Princess Twilight pursuing justice for the mares that fiend Arms Dealer had defiled, his daughter had nothing but starry eyes for her. As he picked up the bottles, Shell could only shake his head at the simplicity. While he was glad for what she had done, he doubted it was strictly for the sake of justice. No noble ever simply did something because it was the right thing to do. It was merely an added bonus to some other agenda. By the time Arm Shell had placed the bottle next to his cushion a figure appeared at the door. “Good evening,” said Princess Twilight through her mask as she entered the office room, seeming to pay no attention to the mess that surrounded her. She wore a dark red dress with a spider web/gear like pattern on it along with a finely made corset. Shell was glad for his mask for he was sure his eyes widened. He had seen the black and white photographs of her in the papers, but it still hadn’t prepared him enough for the sight of a purple pony with feathered wings! Her mask was honestly the least impressive thing on her, looking like a run of the mill version instead of one of the fancier models available to the elites. There was an odd growth on her forehead, a horn of some kind, that was lit up. At first Shell believed that this was some sort of light similar to the creatures who lived in the darkest regions of the caves until he saw something he would never forget. Behind the princess, covered in the same colored glowing light, was a thestral stallion with a wild white mane and a bad wing. The stallion looked like he was having the time of his life, like a colt whose mother had given him an extra cookie or two with sugar on top. The way he looked about himself spoke volumes of just how long he had been without the great gift of flight and his body slumped slightly when all four hooves touched the ground. “Hello, hello, hello,” said the stallion in a chipper tone as he quickly approached the desk ahead of the princess. Not that she seemed to mind at all. “It is simply a pleasure to be here. Actually, it’s just a pleasure to me looking at machinery that I haven’t fixed myself. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, mind you. No, no, no. It just gives me a chance to appreciate the fine work that other thestrals do. Simply wonderful.” “Ah, well thank you,” replied Shell slowly. “This is Dr. Wild Theory, my Royal Scientific Advisor,” said the princess, drawing Shell’s attention back to her. Looking back at the mare in front of him, he saw her gesture to the stallion as he began to look around the office at the weapons mounted on the walls. “I thought it best to bring him along as an advisor in this discussion due to my lack of understanding with much of this country's machinery.” “Yes, ah, well,” stammered Shell as she sat down before him. He blinked, still surprised that this was really happening. Before speaking again Shell cleared his throat. “Let us get down to business. What were you hoping to purchase?” The princess said nothing, only nodding as that odd horn of hers began to glow again. This time several documents were levitated from somewhere behind her back before being set on the table, landing on the ledger Shell had been working on. Quickly, Shell began to skim the document as a hoof went through it line by line. Before Shell had even gotten halfway through reading it, he had to admit that the Princess had done her homework. That or she had some very dedicated staff who had done their research for her. Everything before him was laid out with the correct model numbers as well as several diagrams for what they needed. However there was a problem with the amount of ammunition that they were requesting. “Ah, princess, are you sure about this?” asked Shell as his trembling hoof did its best to remain close to the number. “I mean, there is simply no way we can get you this amount in any timely manner. M-My factory just isn’t staffed enough and the machinery-” “Slightly outdated,” interrupted Wild Theory as he skipped over to the table. “Most of the equipment you are using appears to have been made in-house if I am correct, and by very skilled hooves. However, just from a glance I can tell that it is slightly behind the current times. Not enough for it to be an issue for you. Oh no, no, no. From what I saw it is well kept and can handle a larger load than what it is currently being used for.” “Well I suppose it might,” began Shell as he looked at the thestral in alarm. “But even if I could hire more thestrals, there is no way I can get you all of this by the end of the month! Not with the amount of equipment I have right now. What I could do would only be enough to fill a storage shed!” “That is what Dr. Theory told me while we were waiting to see you,” replied the princess in a gentle tone. “Still he has assured me that it is possible for you to make your quota by the end of the year. The scheduling terms are two more pages in.” Shell blinked before quickly turning the pages. And there is was: a chart which broke down the shipments of each order of ammunition as well as a slow yet steady stream of their lighter firearms. As he looked at it, Shell felt that it seemed more doable at that moment. It would be tight sure enough, but possible. He might even have to hire more ponies. Shell licked his lips under his mask. With this sort of thing, he could begin crawling his way from out of the red. Why he half fancied that he might even be able to have several new machines made and used either for the specific use of the government’s orders or to ensure that his other orders could still be maintained. It might also be a boon for his business if others knew that the government had sought them out to make such a contract. For a moment, Shell allowed himself to remember his old dream. Of looking out of his clean window down at a factory filled with hundreds of workers in a larger building than he had now. Perhaps even a new building, freshly made just for them outside of the city with their own fleet of zeppelins and trains that were constantly on the move. A dream that when the day ended, he would be taken to his home in the upper districts of Automahollow by an auto-pony pulled carriage where his family would be waiting. To see his wife entertaining guests, laughing happily in a fine dress along with their daughter. To provide them with all the finest things in life. Yes, it all looked so very good. However… “Princess,” said Shell as he returned to the front page of the contract. “I am honored that you would seek out Armory Inc. for your military needs. However, you must know that even this much will not fill your entire military’s needs. Even if I were to expand my business, your troops would have long since passed the point of rationing bullets. And our weapons won’t meet the same standards. As much as I would hate to say this, you would be better off visiting one of the other ammunition companies. I could provide you with a short list of other companies that would be more suitable until the chaos at Storm Breakers has ended.” Princess Twilight nodded. “Thank you for that honesty,” she said in a still pleasant tone. “Now I am more certain than ever that I want to do business with you.” These words, so innocently spoken, nearly caused Shell to topple over onto his bottles. Quickly he righted himself before either pony could look over the table to see the drinks that took away his worries for a short time. “Oh dear, dear, dear,” went Wild Theory as he brought a hoof to his mouth. “I do hope you’re alright. Bit of a breather tube malfunction?” “N-No, just surprised,” replied Shell as he steadied himself on the table with both his front legs as well as his wings. “I just can’t understand why you wouldn’t want to go back to Storm Breaker. With Arms Maker gone I mean…” The princess nodded. “I see,” she said as she brought a hoof to her cheek. “Well, to put it simply, I have decided that the government will not have a single military supplier. Over the last couple of days I have been meeting with several companies like your own to create contracts that will meet our military needs.” Shell nodded as his wings retracted. So, he wasn’t going to be getting an exclusive military contract. Others were going to be getting the same deal. “You see,” continued the Princess as she put her hoof down. “While King Cobalt had good intentions as well as good faith in the previous arrangement, recent events have shown how that trust can be abused. I am hoping that this new system will help prevent that from reoccurring. If you continue to read the contract, it will state that the contract will be up for yearly review by both myself, General Steel Trap, and yourself so that we may go over any issues or concerns that both parties might have. That way we can better alter the conditions of the contract before any serious grievances occur or simply terminate it if neither party is benefiting. There are also several clauses that are meant to prevent either side from abusing the other. For example, article 47 states that a change in a deadline may not occur under any circumstance other than wartime situations. Article 100 states that if you wish to break this contract, you must have sufficient evidence that we have broken any of the agreed upon rules set forth in this contract as dictated by the courts. There we will both be brought before a judge to plead our cases.” “Currently the Princess has brought this offer to eight ammunition companies, a few of them right here in Automahollow,” added Wild Theory. “Many of them have weapons that they specialize in, a few being superior to those made by Storm Breakers! The gears in my brain are just spinning with all the interesting things we’ve seen. Like Spirit Ammunitions. Did you know that they were going to declare bankruptcy in a couple of months when they had a brand new mounted weapon that can switch from lethal projectiles to a sort of bullet that opens up into a capture net? Must have had one fine Tinker working for them since the switch is only a couple of seconds! I tell you if the princess didn’t have such a busy schedule I would have begged, begged, begged to study how it worked.” “I see,” said Shell as he nodded. “So you want a contract with my company not just for the ammunition, but also my hoof held blunderbusses?” “Well, I won’t deny that that is part of the reason,” said Twilight. “The blunderbusses that your company produces have an underappreciated value. Due to their lighter weight and smaller size, they are perfect for combat in tighter spaces with plenty of corners. Places like the castle. It is my hope that members of my security and staff will be trained to use them in case of an emergency. But moreover, I want to do business with a company with a good reputation. An…acquaintance of mine on the street mentioned that your company is known for its good working environment and that you yourself work hard to keep it open so ponies don’t wind up on the street. I don’t think a pony like yourself would try to use your own workers as hostages in some sort of negotiation.” “Ah, thank you,” said Shell slowly, taken aback by her words. “Now all that is left is to go over payment terms,” continued the Princess. “I hope we can come to a good deal that benefits parties.” Shell nodded. “I hope so as well,” he said. -x- “Well that sure wasn’t as painful as getting your wing caught in turning gears,” said Theory sometime later as both he and Twilight entered the castle. Around them the castle staff were taking hoses connected to a device within the walls, flipping a large switch to activate the vacuums. Together they began to suck as much of the soot off the pair while a different pair of maids accepted their breathing masks. “I suppose,” said Twilight with a heavy sigh as they finished. As the maids bowed to her before backing away the princess looked down at the contract in her magical hold. The negotiations between her and Arm Shell had gone on for almost an hour straight. Twilight had pledged to cut his taxes by fifteen percent as well as provide a document of authenticity to the banks, proving that he had a contract with the crown should he need a loan. She had hoped that this would be a greater incentive to give them a better price than what Armory Inc. normally charged. However, things didn’t work out that way. While Shell had promised he would give the Princess the lowest deal he could, there was a limit to what he could promise. He had explained how much he normally charged for everything, breaking it down so that the princess understood where all the grits were going. He had to buy the material, pay his employees, pay the taxes for the land, and also set aside grits incase one of the machines (or more) broke down. It was informational and Twilight was deeply impressed by how organized his quickly made layout was. But even as he was explaining where he could take out grits Twilight was already doing the calculations in her head which made her wince. If her math was right that it would be a few hundred golden grits more than she had hoped even with the tax cuts brought into the equation. Perhaps if he was the only one it wouldn’t be so bad. As Theory had told Shell back in his office, they had contacted eight companies so far. Some, Twilight had sent Count Raven on her behalf to make the requests outside of the city, hoping that his presence might help smooth things along. However he had reported back with similar experiences to the one she had just had. Right now, if the math remained consistent, they would be going a couple thousand gold grits over the allotted budget. Something that she believed the Dukes and Duchesses would not be happy about. That is, of course, if her alternative source of income plan didn’t work out. As she put the documents away, both Twilight and Theory made their way to the stallion’s workplace. As they did so, dozens of maids and soldiers were hard at work bringing boxes down from the upper floors to the loading docks and zeppelin landing zones. Each one contained treasures that had once belonged to the former princess. Gems and other precious stones had been removed from dresses while her jewelry was being boxed up so that it could all be taken to various auctions around the country as well as jewelry stores. Other items were having their worth assessed with the ones that had real worth being packaged as well before they were to be sent out. Everything else, the de-jeweled gowns or anything else that was left, could be taken by the staff if they wanted it while the rest was to be sent to charities across the city. As for the portraits and statues of Princess Alabaster, Twilight did not know what to do with them for now. A few of the soldiers had expressed a desire to use them as targets in the firing range, she Twilight suspected would help them save at least a few grits. She just didn’t think it would send the right message to her ponies if they ever found out. At first, Twilight didn’t believe that they would have enough. All it took was Twilight using the gem finding spell Rarity had taught her in her attempt to find more treasure showed that not all of the former Princess’ belonging were genuine. It seemed that about a fourth of the items within Twilight’s personal quarters been made of very convincing material that would have fooled anypony who didn’t examine them more closely. Perhaps somepony had tried to cheat the self-indulgent princess or it could have been that she lacked the funding to buy the real thing. Whatever the case was, it had put a damper on Twilight’s spirits. Further exploration of the castle, however, brought back her hope. It seemed that Alabaster was more vain than Twilight had believed, having various rooms of the castle dedicated to herself. One room was full of mirrors with frames of pure silver decorated with rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. Another room had a golden statue in Alabaster’s likeness situated in the very middle. Why she had all of this, Twilight had no idea. It was excessive self indulgence no matter how somepony sliced it. Not even her maids knew what Alabaster had planned for all of this and they were still finding similar rooms. Even now as the pair moved through one of the secret passages within the castle, Twilight was hearing from Spike about more and more rooms being found to have treasure. With all this in mind, Twilight was hoping to make a decent profit to help her budget. Overkill had suggested that they tell the ponies they were selling this to that everything came from Princess Alabaster’s personal collection, something that Count Raven had oddly agreed upon. Yet the reasons for doing so were very different. “If Your Grace permits me,” he had said when they first began, “Informing ponies that this came from Princess Alabaster would do ever more for Your Grace’s reputation. It would be seen as Your Grace returning the wealth that was stolen. The gear of the press would be spinning out stories that Your Grace is not only cleaning up the grime clogging up the gears of the system but also the literal house where you work.” “I was more thinking it would help you raise the prices,” commented Overkill. Count Raven had turned to glower at the mare who responded with a questioning look. “What? I once knew this idiot who sold his house and everything in it just so he would have a chance at buying an ancient blunderbuss that was used in the Bloodriver Rebellion. It was a fake, of course, anypony who had ever studied weapons for more than a week could tell you that when that particular model suffered any sort of break in the furnace saddle then you don’t have time to abandon it. Mainly because at that point you’ve lost your entire rear, bleeding out, and screaming for a medic who has no chance to save you.” Twilight remembered how the Count’s eyes widened at that. “Wait. You let your friend sell everything he owned for something you knew was a fake?!” “Well I tried to tell him,” Overkill had replied, rolling her eyes as she did so. “But short of tying him up, taking him out to the country, and waiting for the sale to end before returning there was nothing else I could have done. And I’m banned from buying rope after…well, anyways he was an adult and it was his choice.” Overkill had paused to shake her head. “His completely idiotic choice that cost him his home, wife, foals, and now he's living on the streets with nothing but his breathing mask and that piece of junk he calls his ‘precious’. But if a pony is willing to do all that, then just think of all the ponies who would be willing to do the same! Only difference is that Twilight will be honest about it!” Twilight responded by shaking her head. “Right now isn’t the time to be greedy,” she had said to the pair. “I know we need the grits, but the ponies in Thunder Valley shouldn’t have to pay anymore than what it’s actually worth. It wouldn’t be fair to them. Also, we need to do this quickly, so I don’t need ponies haggling over the ‘historic value’ of items that are not worth as much.” Twilight came out of her recollection as she and Theory entered his work space which had changed in recent days. While there were still the unnerving chains hanging from the ceiling with mechanical body parts, the scrap that Wild Theory had brought in had been properly sorted thanks in no small part to Twilight’s organizational skills. The floor had been cleaned of most of the oil and even the stains. Most of Theory’s gear had been sorted and put away on hangers on the walls. Now her Royal Scientific Advisor had a place to do his work more safely. “Oh there you are,” said a voice from across the room. Both heads turned to look to the side to see Chalky standing there next to a long wooden work bench, full of tools and devices that honestly scared Twilight a little. But it didn’t take her long to notice several folders on the deck that hadn’t been there the last time she was in the room. Nor the plate which had a large sandwich on it with a bowl that was large enough only for dipping. “Something came for you from the Underbelly Academy,” said Chalky as he began to walk away while avoiding looking at the two. “Don’t know what it is, but it sounded urgent and I don’t want to put a pillow over my head as you freak out all night because somepony discovered a new way to spin a gear. I also left you something to eat. Nothing too fancy. Just a hay and honeyed grasshopper sandwich with homemade wheat bread that has a hint of lemon baked in it. There is also some horseradish dipping sauce with a hint of grounded moth.” “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” cried Theory as he skipped over to his work bench. As he began to open up the folder, the scientist turned his head to look over at Twilight. “Princess, you don’t mind if I look this over and meet up with you later?” Twilight smiled as she shook her head. “Not at all,” she replied as the stallion picked up his sandwich. “We have other things we need to talk about, but taking a small break won’t put us too far behind schedule. Just be sure to tell me what you think of whatever it is that the Academy is working on. Then we can go over that special project of Princess Alabaster’s that we found.” Twilight turned her head, ready to ask Chalky if he’d accompany her out. However, it seemed that he was already out the door. The princess rolled her eyes before waving goodbye to Theory and then moved to trot after Chalky. For a moment she was glad that Spike wasn’t here as he would have made a comment that she shouldn’t be chasing after such a rude pony. If he had, Twilight would have gently reminded him that once upon a time she had been just as rude. “Chalky,” she called out. The white stallion paused in the hallway, turning his head to look at her. They were now the only two there. “I wanted to thank you.” Chalky snorted loudly at that. “Thank me for what?” he asked as he began to move down the hallway. Twilight moved with him, noticing with her now more familiar layout of the castle that they were heading back towards his quarters. “For bringing him his meal? Like I said, I only did that because he would have gone spinning like an out of control gear all night and day. Now he can do that to his heart’s content without bothering me.” “Come on, you know you like him,” said Twilight with a sly smile on her face. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have made him that meal.” Chalky opened his mouth, most likely to object to such a thing, but Twilight quickly cut him off. “And don’t try to pass it up as not wanting him to come back for lunch or something like that. You and I both know he could have asked any of the maids to bring him something to eat. Plus you went out of your way to make him something that looked really good.” There was a brief pause between them before Chalky spoke. “Actually, I was going to say that like is a very strong word,” he mumbled. “I…tolerate him. To be honest, he’s the closest thing I have to a friend and I don’t know what that says about me.” “That you know a true friend when you see one,” said Twilight with a smirk before lightly tapping at his shoulder with her wing. “And now it’s my turn to ‘actually’ you! I wanted to thank you for that information you slipped under my door. It’s saving me so much time.” “Oh,” said Chalky, his eyes widening and his wings jerking a bit. He turned to give Twilight a look. “Well I…er…how did you know it was me?” “It wasn’t that hard,” replied Twilight with a knowing smirk. “I mean, yes there were a lot of ponies who knew I was not going to back down from trying Arms Dealer and all of them knew I was running out of time. But I found it odd that the night Arms Maker came to see me you were outside my door listening in. Then, the very next night, I got that slip of paper with everything I needed with all the math done nice and neatly for me. Now, there are a few other ponies I know who could have done the same thing. Like Count Raven for example. Except, I really can’t see the Count slipping anything under my door like that. No, he would walk in and give it to me himself or just wait till we were alone. Now it could have been one of the Dukes or Duchesses, sending one of their servants to deliver the message. However that also seems very unlikely since the pony who sent it didn’t leave their name on it. Doing something like this would have meant that I owed them one or it could have made them look better in my eye. But there was nothing. Overkill was in the room with me so she couldn’t have done it and Theory would have just walked in like he always did. Plus…you just told me you did!” Once again, Chalky stumbled as he walked before placing a white wing over his face. “Of course I did,” he muttered. Then, with a sigh, he lowered his wing before turning to look at Twilight. “I just wanted to do something to say thank you. I’ve known Dealer since we were foals and that animal always rubbed me the wrong way.” That caused Twilight to halt in her tracks. “You…knew Dealer?” she asked in surprise. Chalky nodded slowly. “My father and his used to do business,” he replied simply. He must have seen Twilight raising an eyebrow for he let out a scoffed noise. “What? You think that Maker only ever did business with the crown? Or that he was never invited to one of the lush parties that the elite like to have for no reason other than to show off their wealth? The amount of evenings and mornings I had to spend with that colt were too many to count. Drove me up the wall with his picky eating habits! Would rather drink the dipping sauce than eat the tentacle coils that had a hint of lemon. The utter fiend!” Twilight took a breath before looking down at Chalky’s cutie mark. “You really do like food. Are you sure your cutie mark shouldn’t be some fancy cuisine?” “Math is my special talent,” said Chalky sternly. “I took to it naturally, picking up how to solve problems and figuring out the most difficult of them very quickly. Before I was eight I had learned how to balance the books, something that made my father proud. Perhaps the only time he was ever proud of me.” As Chalky said this, his voice turned dark for a brief moment. So dark that it caused Twilight to become worried, for it was the same tone that Shining used whenever the topic of Changelings came up. She then watched as Chalky sat down and when he spoke again, there was something of reverence in his tone. “But cooking, that is my passion. It’s like a complex math problem with food being the digits. Adding or subtracting to help bring about the best possible result for the taste buds. It has been the closest thing to magic I have ever witnessed in my life.” “Really?” asked Twilight, as her thoughts went to some of the things she had seen in Thunder Valley since she had arrived. Most notably the auto-ponies. Machines that could do the work of a normal pony, moving about to deliver items or pulling carriages. Surely something like that would be magical. Chalky nodded. “I saw it so often,” he said in a distant voice like he was remembering something dear to him. “Ponies sitting at a table, bickering with each other over grits or giving each other false flattery in order to win favor. Heh, they always changed their tune when they thought nopony was looking. Then…the food would arrive causing everypony to slowly stop talking as it was set before them. I would watch as they would eat and, for the first time, they would be honest. They would briefly band together to talk about how good or bad the food was, asking for the name of the chief, or expressive envy that they had not hired him or her. Everypony would seem so, I don’t know, happy thanks to a pony who remained hidden behind the wall. And I so very much wished to be that pony.” Twilight watched as Chalky closed his eyes as if to savor the moments he was remembering. She stood there, watching as the introvert began to slowly come out of his shell as he shared with her his passion. To be honest, Twilight had not expected this. She had heard and read that most introverts only came out of their shells when they talked about things that they were truly passionate about. But she had no idea he would do so as quickly as he had. “Did you ever cook for your parents?” asked Twilight innocently. What happened next happened so quickly that Twilight was surprised she didn’t hear a record scratch. Chalky’s eyes opened with fury before getting back on his hooves. “No,” he growled. “Because it wasn’t in his plans that his son should become some no named chef in some backwater restaurant. Not when there was a greater destiny in store for me: taking over the family business, BAH! I’M GLAD IT FELL APART! I ONLY WISH-” Chalky’s words were cut off as he suddenly stomped his hoof on the ground in a fit of rage before snorting loudly. The stallion then began to grind his teeth menacingly for a moment, causing Twilight to wince. Perhaps seeing that caused Chalky to snap out of it. His expression shifted from anger to alarm and then back to his normal indifference. The stallion then sighed before walking away. “Anyways, I’m glad you used the information. Now if you’ll excuse me, I want to go back to my room now.” He had said all of this as if nothing had happened, walking away as if he had never raised his voice. However, Twilight knew that she would never forget this moment. For a moment, as she watched Chalky’s back, Twilight wanted to call out to him. To try and help him get over this issue with his father. Yet the words of Overkill came to her quickly, causing her to keep her mouth shut. She couldn’t be there to solve everypony’s problems. With so many issues before her there was just too much to do without worrying about every individual that was out there. Twilight knew she was right and that if she tried she would drive herself mad with exhaustion. But that didn’t mean she should do nothing at all! Straightening up, Twilight turned to head back to Theory’s lab/workplace. Yes, she couldn’t do something for everypony she met. But that didn’t mean she should become hollow to their pain. She could be there for the ponies around her, listening to their concerns. She could start listening to the voices of her subjects and if there was something she could do to make their lives better, even in a small way, she would do it. She would be the best princess she could be until they either made her a queen or replaced her. As she walked, Twilight realized something. It had been a while since she had written a letter to Princess Celestia. Not because she hadn’t wanted to, but with all the chaos with Arms Dealer she hadn’t had much time to do so. Perhaps it was a poor excuse but it was the only one Twilight had. She was sure that Princess Celestia would love to hear about how she had dealt with her first crisis since becoming Princess. Making a mental note to make an actual note to write a letter, Twilight continued down the hallway with a smile on her muzzle. Hmm, perhaps she should write two letters. -x- Celestia smiled from her balcony as the morning sun began to rise. As its light touched the ground she could already see many of her little ponies beginning to rise. Several were already on the streets, nothing more than mere dots from this distance as they moved up and down the rows below. As she turned to return to her quarters, a familiar flash appeared next to her, revealing a letter. On instinct, she grabbed it with her magic while her smile became warmer. A letter from her former student, one that she missed dearly. It had been so long since she had last wrote to her. The last letter had been about how her lessons were going with the Count Raven. “I wonder if she is having any trouble with the nobles there,” chuckled Celestia as she undid the ribbon on the scroll. “Or perhaps there is some handsome stallion that has caught her eye. It would be wonderful gossip with Cadence if…” But Celestia words faded as she looked at what had been written. Her smile vanished, moving from concern to anger to something that was more unreadable. When she had finished, she rolled the scroll back up and sighed. “Oh Twilight, you still have much to learn.”