i
“Alright. Get out.”
It was a loudly spoken, firm command. One issued the moment the gangplank of the airship had opened to the swirling snows of the Frozen North.
“Thanks. I figured,” Shining Armor said with a little roll of his eyes, his hooves clanging against the gangplank.
Ahead of them was the facility he’d spotted from the air on the way in. The stacks were looming on the far side, overseeing the rest of the single story compound. There were a few other smaller buildings surrounding the centermost one, divided by long strips of red wire to combat the swirling blizzard around them.
It was the Crystal Empire all over again, Shining thought.
“Might wanna put this on, Captain Armor.” One of the cops next to him had levitated a respirator mask. He’d already doned his own over his head, the sound of his filter-distorted voice startling Shining for a moment before he turned.
“Thanks.” Shining put his own on, taking a long sip of filtered air and exhaling deeply. “Air’s toxic, here?”
“Smoke stacks ahead aren’t exactly pumpin’ out happy little clouds, Captain.”
Shining managed a small chuckle. “Touche, private.”
He was marched without further ceremony towards the large metal door leading into the central facility. It opened with effort and closed with a deafening thud, and the silenced wind was momentarily jarring. The dull hum of electric lights soon replaced it, a long hall leading into the central building's common room. It didn’t look much different from most military common areas Shining had spent much of his young adult life lounging in. There were more bookshelves and academic resources, of course, but the general layout was familiar.
Down the long corridor leading inside, two ponies were already making their way closer to Shining and his escort of two armed guards. A lab coat-wearing unicorn and a pegasus guard--the latter decorated with several metals clinging onto a worn bomber jacket.
“Commander Lightning Dust.” The pegasus greeted Shining Armor with a quick salute. “Head of Security here. It’s an honour, Captain Armor. I was part of your infantry during the Battle of Shattered Shields.”
Shining returned the salute with a tired but kind smile. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Commander Dust. Mind telling me what this all is about?”
Beside Lightning Dust, the lab coat wearing unicorn cleared her throat, a little warily. “Welcome to Equestria’s first Suntrotter Facility, Captain Shining Armor. We both… I apologize for the… ah, unorthodox means of reaching you.”
“It’s not the worst welcome I’ve had.” Shining rolled his eyes. “You are?”
“...lacking in manners, it seems.” The mare presented a hoof, attempting a smile--though it was strained and wavering.“Moon Dancer. Chief head of research and technologies here.”
“This place?”
“Right to the point, I see.” Moon Dancer let out a chuckle, both of her ears folding flat against her head. “Come, have a seat in our common area and we’ll chat. Make yourself at home.”
Shining kept his eyebrow raised as he followed her down the brightly lit entrance corridor to the common area, removing the respirator and keeping it levitated by his side as he followed Moon Dancer and Lightning Dust to the common area.
“What division, Commander? Airforce?”
She nodded. “That's right. Scout, Second Rank.”
Shining nodded. “Blizzards were something fierce. Must have been tough.”
“Haven’t gotten much better.” Lightning Dust chuckled, nodding back at the metal door. “Still. Nice if you can get above the clouds. Lots of stars, and sometimes even the northern lights on a nice night.”
There were four more guards in the common room, but they thankfully kept their distance as Shining sat down at a card table in the common area.
Lightning Dust generally stayed close to Moon Dancer, though she stayed standing as the other two sat down. The other four guards lingered in the entrance to the common area, at attention but only slightly so. Apparently, Shining’s status as a threat had been reduced somewhat thanks to his frustrated but professional cooperation, and he was a little relieved for the extra trust.
Moon Dancer sat across from him, while one of the three guards trotted out of the room and further down the hall into the rest of the facility.
“SunTrotter Facility.” Shining repeated as soon as she sat down. “That mean what I think it means?”
“That depends on how much you know about the SunTrotter Project.”
“Pieced most of it together when my boys raided the last facility you fellas built. Never was one for fancy new technologies, and the State destroyed most of the equipment before we got there. Still, given the context of where we found it, I think I know enough to make an educated guess.”
“We aren’t exactly associated with the facility that you encountered.” Moon Dancer frowned, shaking her head slowly. “The technology, yes. But the applications there? Ones I’m quite abhorred by, I assure you.”
“This facility is brand new.” Commander Lightning Dust piped up. “Been here for about a year or so.”
“Same time Celestia first said she was writing a scroll that would let you raise the Sun.” Shining frowned. “You must think I’m an idiot if you expect me to swallow that the two are unrelated.”
Lightning Dust and Moon Dancer shared a glance. Neither spoke for several moments, and when Moon Dancer did eventually break the silence, her voice had grown significantly quieter. It was as though she didn’t want even the facility’s guards to hear her.
“I was hired onto this project less than six months ago,” Moon Dancer said, averting her gaze from Shining as she did. “I was hired due to my research into alternative magical fuel source technologies, and briefed the same way I’m now briefing you.”
Shining frowned. “Then why are you having this conversation with me, instead of Princess Celestia?”
Lightning Dust snorted.
“Oh, yeah. That’d go over smoothly,” she murmured under her breath.
Shining glanced over. “Got somethin’ to add, Commander?”
“Just that takin’ the recoverin’ trauma survivor on a tour around here might not go over well.”
Shining scoffed. “Congratulations, Commander Dust, you answered my next question before I even asked it.”
“Ahem.” Moon Dancer cleared her throat. “If I might speak for a moment?”
“Go ahead, lab coat.” Shining nodded to her.
“As Commander Dust so eloquently put it--” Moon Dancer narrowed her eyes in Lightning Dust’s direction. “Princess Celestia is a recovering victim, and she’s currently being massively discriminated against by the State as a whole right now.”
Shining snorted. “That’s obvious.”
“S-so. It seems very likely she would misconstrue the nature of our operation here.”
“That nature being? Your kind and benevolent reason for trying to steal the damned sun from her?”
“Contingency.” Moon Dancer, for all her outward awkwardness, spoke the single word with utmost confidence. “An acute awareness that her health and mental state is incredibly fragile at the moment.”
At that, Shining started for a moment. He couldn’t think of some witty response, so he stayed silent instead.
“I just wish to go over the schematics of the facility with you.” Moon Dancer continued. “All I ask is four days of your time. We’re… we’re proud of what we’re working on, here. But we need your help.”
“Then you shouldn’t have to extort me to try and talk me into it.” Shining nodded back at the guards that had accompanied him from the airship. “Gotta be another side to the coin.”
“There always is, Captain. I know that just as well as you do.” Moon Dancer shook her head. “You don’t think I’m not equally as curious why the State wants this done now? Of course there’s a political angle to it.”
“Then you can understand my reluctance to assist with it, when said policies aren’t in Princess Celestia’s hooves.”
“Four days of your time.” Moon Dancer repeated gently. “It’s all I ask for. That’s how long until the next supply run, so you’re icelocked with us till then anyways.”
As it turned out, Moon Dancer was an easy mare to get along with.
Shining Armor had noticed it early on into his ‘visit’, as they’d come to refer his current status at the remote facility where it would seem he would be spending the immediate future.
They didn’t call him a prisoner of the state, but Shining Armor knew the implications when he’d last seen them. There was nothing to gain from denying it, and Moon Dancer had been entirely right about their icelocked state. The guard entourage around him had largely vanished, trusting that Shining himself knew how slim his chances of survival would be out in the frozen tundra.
Commander Lightning Dust was a clear contrast to Moon Dancer’s coy awkwardness, but still a pony Shining Armor was beginning to garner a mutual respect for. While she’d seemed outwardly arrogant and hostile, they had still worked together during the Crystal War. It became difficult to separate their history, and Shining Armor had quickly learned that nights in the SunTrotter facility were generally dull. The result was evenings that became difficult to separate from the idle reminiscing long nights in the arctic typically descended into.
“Mentioned you were scout division?” Shining Armor had found the pegasus reading a battered Wonderbolts magazine in the common area, while two of her inferiors were playing cards quietly in the corner. “During the Crystal War?”
Lightning Dust let the magazine fall a little, greeting Shining Armor with a sideways glance. “Mhm. Second Rank, like I said.”
“Second Rank, eh?” Shining Armor rose an impressed eyebrow. “Wonderbolts reserve?”
“Yep.” The pegasus gave a quick salute with a wing. “Been with ‘em nearly fifteen years, now.”
“Damn good flyers. Always loved working with you birds.”
“Heh. Doing a lot more slideshows than corkscrews these days," Lightning Dust chuckled. She rose her left wing, and Shining could make out the tell-tale signs of a metal appendage replacing a missing wingbone. “Y’know, on account of the bum wing.”
Shining gave it a glance over. The whole thing hadn’t been replaced, just one or two of the pegasi’s primary flight bones. The obviously bulkier metal prosthetics were easy to spot with a trained eye, jutting out from feathers on the pegasi’s folded wing. An important joint bone--one Shining had often seen Sombra’s archers firing at.
“What battle?” He nodded at the wing. “Shattered Shields?”
She nodded back, giving her wing a little rustle. “Yeah. Got it carryin’ an earth pony away from enemy lines. Empire bastard put one of those crystal arrows right where it counts.”
Shining winced, nodding his head slowly. What Sombra’s Empire lacked in numbers they’d more than made up for in cunning ingenuity. The longer the damned war continued, the worse it became, until by the end a single crystal arrowhead striking the right place was often enough to rot away at the flesh of a once perfectly healthy royal guard.
“Got lucky.” Commander Lightning Dust outstretched her wing a little to show off the metal bone prosthetic. “Lot of my friends lost their wings entirely. And they were the luckier ones. Thankfully, the earth pony I was haulin’ outta there knew her way around a medkit. Managed to pull out the arrow before the magic could start spreading. Probably woulda lost it, otherwise. If I didn't buy the farm entirely."
Shining nodded again. The common area had been kind enough to include a liquor cabinet, and Shining fished out two shot glasses and a bottle of rye, levitating one over to Lightning Dust. “Wasn’t exactly easy, was it?”
She chuckled. “No sir, it was not. Flyin’ in formation up there at night. Endless ocean of black. The quiet... that was the worse part, the way the quiet clung to the air like you had'ta fly through it. And the whole while, your mind’s telling you, 'hey, it’s just a few of them left, so what’s the worse they can do to you from all the way down there?' But still, you’ve seen what the medics had to see, so part of you knows...”
She exhaled, taking the glass gratefully with a wing.
“Slideshows about flight patterns must be nice around now.” Shining Armor sipped his own, shooting her a sideways glance.
Lightning Dust laughed. “Oh they are. Still, felt good, dragging that pony back to safety. Feels a little weird to say that, but… well, got me a Bronze Feather, so…"
Shining Armor smiled his old and tired smile. “Doesn’t feel weird at all to me. Feels important, really.”
Lightning Dust nodded. “It’s this new stuff that scares me more, if I’m being completely honest. Least with Sombra, it was easier to know where we stood. Nowadays?” The pegasus gave a little shrug, sipping her rye again. "It's anypony's guess."
“Sometimes feels like we took a lot of Sombra back home with us, to me.” Shining Armor nodded his head at the line of windows that lined one wall of the common area, revealing a blurred white blizzard framed by tiny portholes. “Ever get that feeling?”
“Took a lot back home with us in the literal sense, Captain Armor. Crystal Ponies. Changelings. But yes, I do get that feeling.”
An awkward silence ensued, but was broken before too long by the sound of hoofbeats clacking against the station’s tiled floors. Moon Dancer entered, a few dossiers and writing utensils levitating around her in a sort of frenzied orbit of stationary and paperwork. A thermos of coffee was within the telekinetic miasma as well, in a separate orb of magic of a slightly darker shade.
Both Shining and Lightning Dust watched the mare with mild amusement as she hastily set all of her affairs down upon one of the common room tables.
“Good evening, Captain Armor.” Moon Dancer kept her head low as she greeted them. “Commander Dust.”
“Howdy.” Shining took his liquor with him, making his way over to Moon Dancer. Beside him, Lightning Dust once again cracked her magazine open, taking another idle sip of her liquor.
“Comin’ to play Trotzee?” Shining smirked at Moon Dancer, as he sat down. He tilted his head in the direction of the shelves of boardgames and gramophone records lining one corner of the common room. “Game of blackjack?”
Moon Dancer let out a tired laugh. “You wouldn’t believe how boring some of the nights get here.”
“They don’t let you, y’know? Have a shoreleave?
“Cheaper to keep us here. All they have to do is fly supplies up.” Moon Dancer shook her head. “Got the basic schematics here, if you wanna go through them. Can give you the fast version of what we’re working on here. And how you can help. That sort of stuff.”
“Gotta kill time somehow.” Shining nodded, leaning a little closer to Moon Dancer from across the table. “This thing you’ve been building--it’s the same device as the one Celestia was using?”
“It is very similar in principle, yes.” Moon Dancer pushed one of the documents closer to Shining. “I wasn’t allowed to look through the schematics of the SunTrotter 2000, mind you…”
“Really.” Shining raised an eyebrow. “They want you to build the newest model, and won’t let you look at the last one?”
Moon Dancer shook her head. “There wasn’t anything left for me to look at. They were quite thorough about that.”
“Can I ask you a question, Professor?”
“Why I’m here.” Moon Dancer nodded.
“How much did you know? About Celestia?”
Moon Dancer’s frown grew, and she took to clicking a pen idly in her magic.
“How much did you know, Captain Shining Armor?” she replied shortly. Shining didn’t immediately answer, and Moon Dancer seemed to take his silence as a response in itself. “I was under the impression they were using a magic scroll written by Celestia in private before her passing. Never in a million years would’ve guessed it was actually her.”
Shining fixed her with a neutral expression. She didn’t seem to be lying, and she certainly didn’t seem the sort of pony that Shining would have expected to have been a particularly fluid liar regardless. Her nervous ticks and stuttering would surely give her away almost instantly.
“You said your model is ‘similar in principle’,” Shining said, leaning forwards. “How does it differ, then?”
Moon Dancer seemed to relax a little, the moment Shining eased his questioning back towards her project instead of the eerie past echoes of it’s previous incarnation.
“Mainly? The power required to run it. Celestia’s connection with the Sun largely bypassed the requirement for expelling mass amounts of energy. She was able to do so using magic alone. We… aren't quite as lucky. Since nopony has a natural connection with the Sun like she does, we instead need to… brute force it, in laymare's terms."
“That’s what the stacks outside are for?”
Moon Dancer nodded again. “We call them Arcane Fuel Reactors. I’ve been working on them long before I even knew about the SunTrotter project, but the State never really gave my research much funding. Still, I believe they’re capable of producing ten times the energy of your conventional coal power plants or diesel generators.”
“Uh huh..." Shining Armor drawled out, frowning. "You’ll forgive me if I’m not entirely convinced as of yet about your little miracle device. Kinda reeks of the glory days of the Flim Flam Brothers, to me. For better or worse.”
“That’s because it’s a continuation of their research. And this is where the… disadvantages come into play,” Moon Dancer said, adjusting her horn-rimmed glasses as she spoke.
Shining frowned, though internally his mind was racing. Now they were getting somewhere. “Toxicity?”
“So you Royal Guards do read.” Moon Dancer gave a small nod of her head. “Probably noticed how most of us wear respirators when we’re anywhere near the stacks, right? That’s because the fuel compound we use is… incredibly volatile, and incredibly toxic to the lungs.”
“Let me guess. The Brothers were your wake-up call for that one?”
Moon Dancer shrugged, her tail swishing irritably. “You think the State shares that information with me? I’m a lackey same as you. Only difference is, I build the trigger and you’re the pony who pulls it.”
Shining let out a little laugh. “Touche, Moon Dancer. What’s your personal opinion, then? Y’know, lackey to lackey?”
Moon Dancer pursed her lips, and took a long drink of coffee from her thermos. “Dead, both of them. Accidental is the most likely cause, and absolutely the one the State will commit to when the time comes. They don’t tell us because they worry it’ll scare ponies off the SunTrotter project. And just so you know, this conversation stays between the two of us.”
“‘Course. Don’t think maybe they’re… just in retirement? Like the State says?”
Moon Dancer let out a cruel laugh. “If that were the case, don’t you think they’d be the ones here instead of me and you?”
“Guess that’s true.” Shining shrugged, turning his attention back to the schematics on the table in front of him. “So, anyways. Your SunTrotter burns a potent gasoline you don’t want to breathe in? That’s it?”
“A gross generalization. We burn a highly concentrated and magically enhanced chemical compound--mostly nitric acid and hydrazine--which is, well. It’s… potent, to say the least. We, ah. Call it 'Tirek's Tea', around here." Moon Dancer grinned--nervously, but well intended all the same.
Shining chuckled. "Charming. I take it that's more than just an alliterative naming choice?"
"Well, as I said, it's highly volatile, so it has to be handled with utmost precision. Both of the components used are highly carcinogenic, and they’ll burn their way down to the bone if you come in contact with them. We catalyze this compound using rare, magically-conductive gemstones, which themselves are also highly volatile and toxic. The result, though, is an incredibly concentrated burst of pure magical energy that we can aim and fire towards one central point. Imagine more than a thousand highly-trained unicorn mages, all firing at one point.”
“Like the olden times. Like before alicorns. That's what you need me for?" Shining guessed. "Aiming the magic beam?"
"We need a unicorn who is trained in pre-Industrial rune magic, with a long and successful casting history and trained magical endurance." Moon Dancer nodded. "So… yes. ‘Aim the magic beam.’ You were the top of a pool of, ahem. 'Applicants.'"
Shining bit his lip. It was an almost flattering feeling, initially, but it dissolved into worry before too long the moment he thought about the contents of such a list.
Was Twilight on it?
It seemed unlikely, but not impossible. She'd flunked her entrance exam, yes, and there would be a documented record of it. But, at the same time, the State's police force also would have had records of Twilight's rune-guarded library in Old Canterlot. She'd written a dozen articles that exposed a well researched knowledge in the arcane, that surely would have made her an asset to Moon Dancer's cause.
What would she do, if she were where Shining was? He doubted Twilight would have even humored them for this long. But Twilight also didn't have a Royal Guard squadron who's fates might still depend on their leader's co-operation.
"Consider me honored to have been included." Shining rolled his eyes. "The device itself… it's already here?"
"The SunTrotter 3000?"
Shining snorted. "Not a very creative name, labcoat. Yes, that."
"Building it right now. We're hoping to have it complete before the fall equinox. Distance between us and the Sun is the narrowest then, which makes it an ideal time to carry out a test firing.”
“So, three months from now.” Shining leaned forward. “You’re aiming to use it three months from now.”
“Bingo.” Moon Dancer nodded. “I’d offer to take you over to the firing building, but it’s, ah…” The unicorn glanced in the direction of one of the porthole windows.
“...Colder than a windigo’s lunch?” Shining guessed.
Moon Dancer smirked a bit. “Y-yes. That.”
“Let’s go over the schematics, instead.” Shining rose to his hooves, lifting his chair in his telekinesis and carrying it over to Moon Dancer’s side of the table.
iii
On the fourth day of Shining’s ‘visit’, Spoiled Rich arrived.
The airship arrived early in the morning, as Shining was sipping some dreadful-tasting instant coffee and mulling over a photocopy of the SunTrotter schematics that Moon Dancer had printed off for him.
It was a fascinating machine. Part of him detested to admit it, but it was simply factual. The Flim Flam Brother’s hoofprints were all over it, though never in a formal capacity. It was rather obvious, though, and even Moon Dancer had agreed with him.
An enigma, like the mare who had been showing it to him, but that was alright to Shining Armor. It was far more welcome than the wild theories his panicked mind had been concoting since he’d seen that airship looming over his apartment complex. The entire ride into the facility four days ago had been one flooded with morbid imaginations of himself being dumped out the side of an airship. Left to freeze to death in the icy wastelands of the Frozen North--little more than a State inconvenience, remedied.
That, he reminded himself--as he watched the supply airship setting down on the landing pad outside the SunTrotter Facility--was still a distinct possibility.
He’d been polite but firm to Moon Dancer about his reluctance to become involved with their SunTrotter Project. And she’d been quietly understanding, the mare seemed far too clever to not be without her own suspicions about her usefulness to the State. Now, though, the face of the State itself was donning a respirator and starting down the gangplank of the supply ship.
After several seconds, the vault-like door of the facility was forced open, and Spoiled Rich herself trotted inside. Two guards lingered behind her, one stopping to close and seal the metal door and the other following her as she made her way into the common room.
Besides Shining, there were a few of Lightning Dust’s guards in the common room, eating their bland-looking oatmeal. They rose to attention the moment Spoiled Rich entered, but she didn’t seem to register their presence as she honed in on Shining Armor instead.
“Good morning, Miss Rich.” Shining rose himself, taking his coffee with him as he walked over to meet her halfway. “Quite the highly-dangerous and ethically questionable project you’ve been funding in secret outside the public’s eye.”
Spoiled Rich smirked. “A rather hypocritical introduction from the stallion who leaked confidential State secrets to the public press. Though I can’t help but notice you left your own complacency in Celestia’s imprisonment go conspicuously untold. Selective, self-beneficial honesty is always so inspiring from a member of the Royal Guard.”
“Uh huh. Funny how blackmail does that to somepony.” Shining returned.
“Sooner or later, your sister will learn that you stood back and left Celestia to her fate. And when that happens, I want you to remember that you brought it on yourself.”
Shining sighed. “My squad. They’re safe?”
“They haven’t been charged, yet.” Spoiled Rich lifted a cigarette case from a jacket pocket. “Light, darling?”
Shining flared his horn, casting heat magic around the tip of the cigarette. “They’re likely wondering why there’s suddenly complete radio silence between me and them. They’re going to put two and two together and start looking.”
“Yes, well. It is a good thing for them, then, that you are being sent on a diplomatic mission to Griffonstone for the next three months.” Spoiled Rich smirked. She trotted her way over to the common area, giving the guards a judging glare. They were still standing at attention, though they faltered a little under her icy gazy. “All of you, get out. I am talking to Captain Armor in private.”
The guards gave the most reluctant and forced salute Shining had ever seen, and began shuffling out of the common area. The moment they were gone, Spoiled Rich made her way into the common area proper, sitting down at one of the loveseats seemingly at random.
“Griffonstone, eh? Some sort of civil unrest there?”
“Yes, actually. Riots and infighting, as per usual with those beaked savages. Your presence there is a rather dashing cover story. And, so long as you keep co-operating, in three months time you can go right back to your depressing little Royal Guard life with this as a little secret footnote someplace in that empty little Royal Guard brain of yours.”
“And if I don’t comply?” Shining stayed where he was--standing, tall and proud and high above the haughty mare before him. He was Princess Celestia’s guard, after all. Her stature, her dignity, her future--that was his privilege to protect.
“Then that is a similarly simple affair.” Spoiled Rich exhaled a long breath of cigarette smoke from her curled snout. “Your trip to Griffonstone will unfortunately end in disaster. Your squadron will be court martialed post haste for their involvement in spreading confidential state secrets. And from that point on, well. What point is there in keeping around an insubordinate guard squadron, yes?”
Shining glared. “If you lay a hoof on them--”
Spoiled Rich snorted. “I have ponies that do that for me.”
“You know damn well what I meant.”
“If I am forced to take action to silence them, dear, then it will be on you. Not that such will be a concern of yours by then.”
“What do you want from me, then?” Shining Armor just about growled it out.
“Your assistance in what will surely be one of the most revolutionary actions in Equestrian history. Your presence amongst a group of ponies who, in mere generations, will be the newest heroes of Equestria.” Spoiled took a measured draw from her cigarette. She offered one to Shining as well, but he shook his head. She seemed rearing up for some sort of speech or tyrade, so Shining conceded to a loveseat with an annoyed sigh.
“For as long as Equestrian history records, we’ve relied on the goodwill, the mercy, the kindness, of alicorns. Of unicorn tyrants more powerful than any one of us could ever hope to be. We rely on them to bring the very Sun about. Has that thought ever disturbed you, Captain Shining Armor? Do be honest, now.”
Shining shook his head. “Celestia is a good mare. She wouldn’t wield that power if she wasn’t.”
“Mm. Perhaps, yes. Perhaps you’re right.” Spoiled tilted her head thoughtfully. “Perhaps you are wrong, though. She feigns guilt well, but I don't know to what extent she regrets her mistakes. She is intelligent, yes, but stubborn. Senile. Tell me, do you think she truly regrets letting your wife--”
Shining rose to his hooves instantly, flaring his horn to life. He was casting anything, yet, but it didn’t matter. He simply wanted to know he still could. “You’re treading on very thin ice.”
Spoiled Rich was unfazed, taking another casual draw from her cigarette. “I don’t care. It is ice that must be treaded on if we are to progress. Extinguish your horn and let’s chat like mature adults, yes?”
Shining killed his purposeless magic, but he refused to sit down. Looking into Spoiled Rich’s smug expression nearly tempted him to light it back up again with a more malicious intent, so he turned away from her and looked out the porthole window instead.
“My point, Captain Armor, is that none of us truly know Celestia. Even assuming her compassion is eternal--and trust me when I say that that is a dangerous assumption--how long does she have left, hrm? Do you know? I sure as Tartarus don’t. What happens if she grows ill again? What happens if she truly does pass? What contingencies has Princess Celestia--the supposed rightful ruler of Equestria--brought forwards? None. She's tied our own survival to hers without even knowing she was doing so."
“If she croaks, then we’ll find a way. Then this little device of your has a purpose.”
“Yes. And we will be prepared to fulfill that purpose." Spoiled Rich had been gradually discarding the harsh, sneering tone from her voice. She sounded far different to Shining, when she was speaking with level thoughtfulness. It was somehow more intimidating than any of the body-language lessons he’d endured during his Royal Guard training.
“The gemstones that the SunTrotter uses were found, mined, and refined by some of the most gifted earth pony hooves I’ve encountered. These gemstones were further enchanted, perfected, given purpose, through the hard work of intelligent unicorns. The facility itself--running on electrical power generated by pegasi weather-moulding ingenuity. You may have your cynical opinions of me, or my Corporation. Or my intentions. But… know that you are seeing a very narrow picture, Captain Shining Armor.”
Shining bit his lip. Hearing it from Spoiled Rich wasn’t anything new. He’d heard it all from Moon Dancer before--and seen the evidence with his own eyes. It wasn’t false--divorced from its purpose, the SunTrotter Project was unlike anything he’d seen outside of wartime.
Perhaps that was why he was there. Perhaps they were tapping into that instinct. It was possible.
When faced with the unknowable--with a problem larger than the power of any small, insignificant pony, Shining had grown used to seeing miracles. Petty differences dissolved, and friendship and companionship was the only matter of importance for a brief but important moment.
When Celestia had taken the front lines during the Crystal War, all three races had stood behind her. They’d been comfortable there, because their princess had vowed to help keep them safe. And she’d succeeded--she’d been a shield outstretched across bloody snow and arcane chaos. She’d been hope when hope was in short supply.
And even Celestia had been overwhelmed. Briefly, but notably, she’d been forced to exit the war, or face the very tangible prospect of dying on its battlefields. And, as everypony feared and knew it would, the war carried on without interruption.
Shattered Shields. The final battle of the Crystal War. The last ditch suicide march of King Sombra’s troops, and the final stand of Celestia’s. But without the alicorn herself, as she reluctantly stood behind the lines, letting the medics tend to her crippling injuries.
They’d held the line. Shining Armor had seen it himself. With or without her, they’d fought for a peaceful Equestria and they’d won.
“It’s a fascinating device" He finally admitted, not meeting Spoiled's gaze. "Built by creative hooves.”
“And wings. And horns.” Spoiled Rich’s smile shifted. It didn't seem taunting anymore. For the first time, it seemed earnest to Shining. “You help us conduct a test firing, in three months time, and that will be that. You will be thanked and compensated for your service, and you will be left in peace. You have my word.”
iv
Nightmare Moon was facing away from her, lying on the fishscale shingles of the Everfree Castle’s dilapidated roof. The reconstructed spire had once more been reduced to
ruined shambles, through which the Moon was hanging solemnly--dim and fading against the starless night sky.
“Twilight, come here,” Nightmare Moon said. It was gentle, but firm. An order, but one spoken softly, to her own faithful student. And it was one Twilight obeyed without question. As she got closer, Nightmare Moon’s skeletal bat-wing shuffled, outstretching for a moment as though she were preparing to welcome Twilight without it. It closed against her side just as quickly, the black alicorn sniffing smugly and looking away.
Twilight stifled a snicker, settling down next to Nightmare Moon on the edge of the roof. “Y-yeah?”
“Twilight, do you know where we are?”
“Yeah. The old castle, right? Where you and Celestia…” Twilight started, and then trailed off some. “B-but not really, either. A dream, right?”
Nightmare Moon nodded. “My dream. I don’t normally have them, but stranger events have unfolded, I suppose. I suppose our magic being interlinked is what brought you here.”
“Had a bit of the dreamroot before bed.” Twilight nodded. “Do… do you relive it, too?”
Twilight pointed a hoof back at the castle. There were still fires smouldering further into the Everfree Forest, signs of some recent arcane duel that Twilight had no small theories as to who had been the perpetrators.
Nightmare Moon nodded. “From time to time, yes. When I dream, which isn’t often. I exist during… fleeting moments. But that isn’t what I wish to talk to you about. Let’s just let this be a backdrop for tonight, yes?”
Twilight smiled back. “Alright. What’s on your mind, Nightmare?”
Nightmare Moon lit her horn, looking away from Twilight and up at the starless black sky above them. The pure black emptiness was somewhat unsettling--Twilight had grown used to either skyglow or stars or some combination thereof--and Nightmare Moon was quick to begin weaving aurora-like patterns of brightly coloured stars into the dreamscape’s ceiling.
Twilight followed the wordless lead by lighting her own horn. The castle around them was in violent disarray, and she reached her magic out to the shattered stone of the nearest spire. It wasn’t formless, but it didn’t have the proper weight of a tower of stone, either. Twilight had never studied pegasi cloud moulding, but part of her assumed it felt a little similar to prodding the dreamworld back into some semblance of order and dignity.
“The other night, you asked me if I would… ahem. I believe you used the phrase ‘stew in my melodrama.’” Nightmare Moon said, still looking up at the stars she was creating.
“I think you used that phrase.”
Nightmare Moon chuckled. “Regardless. It’s… what I wish to do, right now. If you would humor an old tyrant, that is.”
Twilight saw the black alicorn’s wing shuffling again. It was as though she wanted desperately to do something with it, but didn’t quite know what would be appropriate. She was looking away, too, her gaze deliberately kept away from Twilight so as to prevent her from seeing clearly what Nightmare Moon was feeling. Her voice seemed passive, as though the alicorn were more bored by her own confessions than anything else.
“Of course I would.”
“Of course you would.” Nightmare Moon finally turned to look at Twilight, a wary smirk on her face. “Twilight, did Celestia ever ask you about Tartarus?”
Twilight frowned. “She asked me about the Afterlife, once. She asked me what I believed. Is that what you mean?”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her that I don’t know.”
Nightmare Moon rolled her eyes, letting out an annoyed snort. “And, were I to tell you to discard your infernal indecision for once in your life?”
Twilight’s ears sunk against her head, a blush flaring across her face. “Then I’d say that I don’t believe in it. But you asked me about Tartarus, not the Afterlife. Why would you ask me about that?”
“Because you are a pragmatic mare, not a superstitious one, and your perspective is one I am intrigued by.” Nightmare Moon gave a little shrug. There was an aura of nervousness about her that Twilight had never come close to associating with the imposing black alicorn. Her gaze, normally firm and piercing, was distracted. Focused more on the crumbling brick spires of the old castle than Twilight herself.
When she spoke up, her voice was wary and quiet. “I’m… sorry, Twilight Sparkle.”
Twilight blinked, perplexed. “Er, about what specifically?”
Nightmare Moon rose an eyebrow, smirking. “Have I been that dreadful to you that I must specify? I’m sorry that I ridiculed you before, when you told me your fears of acceptance. I’m sorry that I told you that you didn’t understand, when truthfully I knew that it was a lie on my part.”
“It wasn’t entirely.” Twilight shook her head. It felt like several eternities had passed since that conversation in the traincar, during their rainy spring pilgrimage back to New Canterlot. “I… I doubt my feelings are nearly equal to yours.”
“Different, perhaps. But ‘equal’ is an unfair metric as far as emotions are concerned. What bounces off the mind of one pony is a dagger to another.” Nightmare Moon exhaled deeply, letting the silence reign for several moments before she continued. “The truth is, I was never born into this world, Twilight Sparkle. I was created. A magical being, constructed to perform a magical function. A weapon wielded. I believe even my own consciousness was unintended. Luna treated it like... an inconvenience. And… I think of that fact often. More than I have ever admitted to you, and certainly to Celestia.
“It’s not that I detest it. But I was brought into this world as little more than a means of bringing about regicide. I’m not a being. I’m a blade, broken at the hilt from too many strikes.”
Twilight bit her lip. Nightmare Moon closed her eyes, shuffling a little, and so Twilight brought herself a bit closer. Against her better judgement, she rested a hoof on the black alicorn’s back. It felt less like an equine hide, and more like cold tar, and Nightmare Moon herself winced from the touch. She didn’t back away, though, and instead continued on with a newfound calm to her voice.
“I thought it was Celestia that broke me. My hatred for her fueled me, and I knew Luna’s desire for revenge was the only purpose fate had given me. I wanted to see Celestia suffer as Luna had, and when she defeated me, I wanted to drag her down into the same empty void I would end up now that I’d failed my one purpose. After all, a sword too dull to slice deserves little else but to be melted down for scrap. I tell you all of this, because I need to give you some context into why what you did for me matters. Because you did something no mortal ever did. Nopony including Luna ever did. And though it’s too late for it to matter now, I want you to know that because of it, I feel I’ve managed to become something more.” Nightmare Moon gave a nervous laugh, opening her eyes again and looking down at Twilight with a warm, genuine smile. “This, all just a roundabout way of saying… Thank you, Twilight Sparkle, for helping me when none would. Thank you for choosing to carry Luna’s legacy, without carrying her destructive hatred. Of herself, of Celestia, of me… I’m grateful to have been your friend during these solemn times.”
Finally, the wing that Twilight had been anticipating outstretched. As nervous as the rest of Nightmare Moon’s uncharastically stilted speech, and colder in temperature than Celestia’s had ever been. It rubbed against Twilight’s side for a moment, straying away at first but then pulling the unicorn closer with genuine compassion.
“You always deserved it, Nightmare. I hope you know that.”
The wing shifted, folding back against Nightmare Moon’s side.
“I did not. I was a murderer, and a monster. And I would have done terrible things for the pleasure of having done so. I would’ve done them to you, when we first met.” Nightmare Moon shook her head. “But perhaps I deserve your friendship now. Perhaps that is enough to be content with. I used to think there was an order to this world… strong and weak, mortals and gods. I used to think I had a place in that order, and by allying myself with gods, I might become one myself. I see now that regardless of what we are, we're all given little else but the chance to matter to somepony or something during the time we have. For some of us, like Celestia, that time is an epoch, and it still doesn’t seem like enough. For others, it’s a small flicker, gone before any could notice it had even existed in the first place."
Nightmare Moon fell silent again. Her horn relit, and she began to weave the night sky together once again. Stars blurred into being, the Moon's light growing a little dimmer as Nightmare Moon's attention shifted to other celestial responsibilities.
Twilight had repaired much of the main spire of the Royal Sisters' Palace. As she eased the last dozen or so bricks back into place in her telekinesis, Nightmare Moon let out a gentle sigh of satisfaction.
"Nightmare…?" Twilight glanced over nervously. "W-why did you ask me about Tartarus?”
"Because I am curious if it is a place reserved for beings of flesh. Or if us dark magic constructs might find a home there, too."
"You don't belong there, Nightmare. I… I want you around. You're not an inconvenience to me."
"You are kind, Twilight. But I am. I will be. This is an inevitability that we owe consideration."
"How?!"
"You love Celestia. Don't you?"
Twilight sighed. "I… I'm pretty sure I do."
"And yet you would call yourself a friend of the mare who is still killing her. You would say such is 'not an inconvenience to you.'" Nightmare Moon shook her head. "Don't you get it, Sparkle? I don't have a choice. I am an enemy of Celestia's by design. I am the tunnel that nearly killed her, when you recovered the Sunstone. I cannot help it.”
"Even if that is true, we can find a way to fix that. So you don't have to keep hurting her. We can find a way for you to survive without leeching off her magic."
"I am a parasite by design. I always have been. And I have done terrible things because I am too much of a coward to admit that to myself." Nightmare Moon rose to her hooves, gingerly lifting her wing off of Twilight.
"But I am beginning to make peace now. I can’t know if what I taught you… of raising the Moon, of traversing the dreamscape, of Luna’s legacy and her hatred… I can’t know if any of that will be remembered. I can’t know how history will record me, besides as one of countless tyrants who fell as they always do. I can’t know if you and Celestia will succeed in fighting off all the tyrants that will come along after me, or if you will fall, too, and it was all in vain. All I can know for certain is that in the time I had, I was part of a force that fought their damndest to return hope and compassion to Equestria, instead of wrenching it away. So… Thank you for helping me make my own flicker matter, Twilight Sparkle. "
Nightmare Moon’s horn lit. The moon, dim on the horizon ahead of them, began to glow with icy blue light.
And then, suddenly, Twilight felt something grab her. She screamed out, whipping around to confront whatever was behind her, but she quickly realized that magic itself had wrapped her in a frigid embrace.
“Shh. It’s okay.” Nightmare Moon tilted her head downwards--Twilight mistook it as a bow at first, before realizing that the alicorn was simply readjusting herself to aim her magic better. “There is something I wish to show you, Twilight. One last… waypoint, to guide you down Luna’s path.”
Around them, the world seemed to unfocus. The bricks on the collapsed spires began to blur, as the clouds in the sky and the smouldering smoke on the horizon lost detail and became all encompassing all at once.
A shifting, changing dream. Twilight was already beginning to familiarize herself with the signs.
The Everfree Castle didn’t vanish, so much as it dissolved. Brick oozed into brick, the castle’s form and colour shifting and distorting into a muddy blur before resolving itself back into shape. The trees surrounding the castle seeped into the forest soil and didn’t return, so that the forested grove surrounding the Castle was now a well-tended courtyard being surveyed by bright electric light.
Nightmare Moon’s magic was still enveloping Twilight, and suddenly the grip around her felt stronger as Nightmare Moon set them both down onto the newly renovated roof of the Everfree Castle Museum deep within Twilight’s industrial Equestria. The magic around Twilight continued to grow, coming in pulsating phases.
Twilight bit her lip. Her heart was racing as she watched Nightmare Moon cast, the alicorn’s own expression one of passive focus. Then, abruptly, two skeletal appendages began forcing themselves out of Twilight’s barrel.
“Stay calm, Sparkle.” Nightmare Moon anticipated Twilight’s panic before it arrived, her voice level and restrained. It was a somewhat tall order to Twilight, though, as she watched in horror while three insect-like limbs pushed out from where her hide and fur had been. Membrane eventually began to weave its way into being between the limbs, seemingly phasing into being as a construct of the growing fog all around them at the top of the castle spire.
When Nightmare Moon finally extinguished her horn, she did so with a small smile. “Thestral wings are simpler. Far less feathers to worry about. Would you like to fly with me, Twilight Sparkle?”
Twilight simply gawked for a moment, staring at the appendages and giving them a few testing shakes. The more logical part of her brain continued to remind her that this was impossible, Nightmare Moon hadn’t touched her nervous system at all so there was no way she should be able to do this…
And then she reminded herself where she was, and afforded herself a nervous laugh and nod. “A-alright. B-but I’ve never… uh, flown…”
“Then glide, and I will assist you as required.” Nightmare Moon spread her own wings, and without further warning kicked off the fishscale roof and began to soar over the Everfree Museum roof.
Twilight stared down at the hundred foot drop in front of her, sucking in a long breath and closing her eyes as she kicked off the roof and spread her wings to follow Nightmare Moon. She did her best not to envision herself colliding with the ground below head first, and miraculously when she opened her eyes it wasn’t looming down upon her.
Nightmare Moon had circled around to come up behind Twilight again, looking over to inspect her flying form.
“It’s… adequate. If you are intent on gliding everywhere--which I recommend you do to practice--then move your forehooves forwards to reduce drag. Our destination is the castle cemetery.”
Twilight could see it ahead, and she gave her wings a few testing flaps as she descended down upon it. From higher up, she could see the fringes of the dreamworld, where the Everfree Forest gave way to fog and cloud. Lands the mind had yet to populate with memory. The surrounding area around the Everfree Castle Museum was far more detailed and refined--more so now that it was the castle as Twilight was most used to seeing it.
Nightmare Moon set down on the cemetery first, turning to watch as Twilight hit the ground a little too fast. She would’ve lost her balance entirely, but Nightmare Moon’s horn lit at the last moment to help her right herself to a less-than-graceful stop.
“Evidently, more practice is required.” Nightmare Moon smirked. “But for what it’s worth, landing and taking off are the hardest part of flying.”
Twilight blushed at Nightmare Moon’s teasing. “S-sorry.”
“You are under the impression I dislike teaching you.” Nightmare Moon rose an eyebrow. Then, before Twilight could stutter out another apology, she turned towards the cemetery ahead. “Recognize this place? It may seem different now that we’re coming upon it from the top.”
“...Instead of after fifty flights of stairs.” Twilight scoffed. “Yeah, I recognize this old sliver of Tartarus.”
Nightmare Moon smirked. “Do not disrespect the place I was born, Sparkle. That is awfully impolite.”
“W-what?!”
Nightmare Moon laughed. “Is it really that surprising? Luna carried out all of her little magical experiments deep in those catacombs. You, my dear, have only scraped the surface of what they contain.”
She turned away from Twilight, her hooves crunching on the frost as she trotted into the cemetery proper. The mausoleum she and Celestia had unfortunately desecrated when they’d recovered the Sunstone was still in the same state as they had left it, and Nightmare Moon led the way towards it with a regal and purposeful stride.
Her horn lit as she walked, and she frowned. “The night is uneasy. Even with so little of my magic, I can feel it. Plenty of nightmares in Equestria, as of late.”
“Lot’s been changing,” Twilight said, following closely. “Where are we going, Nightmare?”
Nightmare Moon stopped her pace and turned around to look Twilight in the eyes. “Contingency. In the times ahead, you will see less of me, Sparkle. As you already have been. I will perhaps still be here, in the dream realm, if you seek me out. But I can feel my… soul, spirit, magic... whatever term endears you… I can feel it fading away. Slowly, but I suppose that is true of all of us.
“You are enthusiastic and intelligent, but… well, power is the one thing you lack. And if you are to assume Luna’s role as stewardess of the night, I would like to present you with the opportunity. Now, please be silent and follow.”
Her piece apparently said, Nightmare Moon turned once again. She moved the stone door of the mausoleum aside and promptly did the same with the stone casket in the middle.
The stairwell ahead of them descended on into darkness, but Twilight could hear the distinct sound of water flow from deep within the catacombs ahead. There hadn’t been anything resembling a lake or river when she’d been here with Celestia, but she was certain her ears were not mistaking her.
“W-where does this lead?” Twilight looked back towards Nightmare Moon, but the thought died when she took in the unsettled look on the black alicorn’s face. Her horn was still lit, and a disturbed expression had overtaken her usually-pensive demeanor.
“Sparkle, something is very, very wrong.” Nightmare Moon looked back where they had come, trotting back out into the dreamworld cemetery. The sound of the wind through the trees had increased dramatically in the short time they’d been in the mausoleum, branches and bushes shivering all around them.
Suddenly, and without further elaboration, the alicorn’s horn grew brighter. As she did a dozen times before, Nightmare Moon dissolved into deep purple mist, which was caught by the swirling winds and streaked into the encompassing haze.
And then, abruptly, Twilight was shot from the realm of dreams and back into her library, with a dull, fading phantom pain on her back, and Princess Celestia sleeping peacefully beside her.
In the corner of the bedroom, the Sunstone was glowing in a few wavering pulses. Twilight rose on wavering hooves, gently removing herself from Celestia’s wing and creeping across the old library floor. The Sunstone was still aglow when she took it in her hooves, but the light was fading away. No brighter than if the moonlight had been shining through it… a muted reflection split a thousand times by the old, imperfectly polished stone.
Breathing out a long exhale, Twilight rose to her hooves to wake Celestia, hoping she wouldn’t be too bothered to hear what ultimately amounted to a strange dream. Still, the memory of Nightmare Moon’s sudden unease was enough to dismiss such worry, and she started back towards Celestia.
She hadn’t made it two steps before an earthshaking rumble nearly knocked her off her hooves.
iv
The smell of coffee was already percolating within the control room when Spoiled Rich entered, still shaking off the last of sleep herself.
It was still dark out the long front window of the control room. Still, they could make out the long antenna tower immediately in front of them, divided by a hundred meters. It had been lit up like a Hearth’s Warming Tree for the firing, sharp white light flooding out for kilometers across the silent tundra.
A light snow was falling, but the night’s blizzard had passed. A few stars shone where they could be seen, though a large portion of their horizon had become obscured by the black smoke rising immediately behind them. The glass windows surrounded the control tower on all sides, and if Spoiled turned her head from the metal stairwell she’d ascended from, she could see the stacks spewing refuse into the sky--more than she’d ever seen before.
Moon Dancer was already awake, along with her three other assistants. They were all peering over a long array of gauges and dials set beneath the window facing Shining Armor’s chambers and the firing antenna.
“She’s still stayin’ steady at eight hundred.” One of the assistants was saying.
Moon Dancer’s ear tilted in Spoiled direction. “Morning, Miss Rich.”
“Yes. How are the preparations going?” Spoiled asked. The smell of coffee had already become infuriating--the mugs resting on the control panel were all empty, and there was no fresh pot to be found. Wonderful. Didn’t they know who she was?
“The answer better be well.” Spoiled added, tapping a hoof.
“We’ve been having a bit of trouble with two of the burners.” Moon Dancer confessed. “Ice build up causing interference, most likely.”
“Ice build up.” Spoiled echoed. “It’s a bloody chimney.”
“It’s… it’s far more complicated than that, Miss Rich. It is possible that some of the heat exchange vents are improperly--”
“Details of your incompetence do not interest me. We are scheduled to fire in less than an hour.”
“I-Indeed. We’re working as fast as we can, Miss Rich.” Moon Dancer’s ears folded down against her head.
Spoiled rolled her eyes, and motioned to the control panel with a hoof. “Get on with it, then.”
Moon Dancer nodded shakily, turning back towards her assistants. “Gold Sky, I need you to close the intake valves of Stack Three and Four entirely, and the valves of One and Two halfway.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” The brown and gold coated earth pony stallion nodding as he leaned over his respective panel to do so. Three came a low hiss as he shifted the four circular valves into their respective positions, but the dials ahead of them didn’t shift.
“Still eight hundred.” The first assistant spoke out again, after several seconds. “One and Two are going down, but Three and Four are maintaining their temperature.”
“That’s… that is simply not possible.” Moon Dancer frowned, trotting over to verify herself. “Perhaps the dial is malfunctioning?”
“It’s possible.” Gold Sky said. “We can try shutting down the panel itself and see if it corrects the reading? But that means we’d temporarily lose control of the chimneys and communication with Captain Armor.”
“What, precisely, is the hold up?” Spoiled piped up again, indignantly trotting closer and analyzing the panel herself with a sneer. “We should be calibrating the antenna direction by now, not peering at switches and dials like amateur electricians.”
“Miss Rich, with respect, I think we should shut down entirely and get Captain Armor out of there. This is an unprecedented issue.”
“Ludicrous. You fools are wasting time that is not yours to waste. Now explain to me what is happening, and how you intend to fix it.”
“We started heating the catalyst gemstones at four-hundred hours this morning. The stack temperature rose as normal until reaching eight-hundred degrees, at which point stacks Three and Four stopped rising entirely while One and Two reached unusually high temperatures of over two-thousand degrees celsius. Adding fuel to the catalyst gemstones at this temperature seems… reckless.”
“So, their respective workload is slightly unbalanced. There’s four of the damned things, I doubt it will be a problem.” Spoiled shook her head, peering at the temperature monitoring gauges herself. Two of the stacks had been an extra, precautionary measure--she’d been promised such when they’d begun construction a year ago. The construction crew and Moon Dancer herself had assured her that the facility could carry out a successful test firing with just two of the stacks without compromising employee safety nor infrastructure integrity.
She repeated such to Moon Dancer, who shook her head slowly.
“It’s not that simple, Miss Rich. All of our equipment has been calibrated to run with all four stacks. We would have to let them cool down for a full twenty-four hours, and thoroughly clean the fuel-line filtration system, and then we would run an increased risk of ice build--”
“Bore somepony else with your theorizing.” Spoiled Rich cut in. “How long would it take to conduct an initial test firing after that? To say nothing of how expensive it would be replacing the catalyst gemstones.”
“Months.” One of Moon Dancer’s scientists piped up--a black coated stallion, with a cutie mark of some constellation or other. “Picking this day wasn’t a coincidence.”
“The fall equinox. I’m aware.” Spoiled Rich shook her head. “But surely we are still afforded a bit of wiggle room.”
Moon Dancer shook her head. “The probability of success would be very, very small. Enough to qualify as futile.”
Spoiled Rich scoffed loudly. Six months. They would have to wait six bloody months until they could even hope to conduct a successful test firing, if they missed their chance today.
Plenty of time for Celestia’s influence to keep on growing. Plenty of time for her to gain more and more political traction, or worse--catch on to what they were doing before they’d even conducted a successful test. She very much doubted she could keep Shining Armor quiet for six months, and the investigation into the unexpected disappearance of a decorated wartime Royal Guard Captain would be as thorough as possible.
“Then we fire today. The two working stacks can handle that, yes?”
“Theoretically, yes, but--”
Spoiled Rich rose a hoof. “There you have it. Unless you have any other bright ideas?”
“I believe we should expel the unspent fuel from the reactors, remove the gemstone catalysts, and delay the test.”
“For over half a year.”
“For as long as it takes until we’re absolutely sure it would be safe!”
“You have given me little convincing that it is not safe right now,” Spoiled Rich shook her head. “You said it might be equipment malfunction, yes? Giving you untrustworthy readings.”
“It might, but the reason for the malfunction is unknown to us right now.” Moon Dancer stomped a hoof on the control room floor. Spoiled was well aware of the unicorn’s passion in her work--her unwavering pride in what she believed to be her achievement.
It was, of course, an achievement funded by Spoiled’s state dollars. On her orders, in order to fulfill her needs. And the pride of some pencil-pushing unicorn wasn’t about to interrupt that.
“Restarting the console might fix the issue,” Moon Dancer continued. “But it would be off for several minutes. Anything could happen in that time, and we would have no way of controlling it.”
“Do you project anything catastrophically dangerous to occur in the next five minutes, Miss Moon Dancer?”
“That’s not the point! You don’t always expect catastrophic failures, you react to them accordingly!”
“That sounds an awful lot like ‘no’ to me. Restart the damned console and stop wasting my time. That’s an order. Do I have to have Commander Lightning Dust enforce it?”
Moon Dancer glared. Her team were also glancing at her, evidently expecting her to make some misguided attempt to convey some manner of authority. Or, as Spoiled knew it to truly be, a cowardly refusal to do their damned jobs.
Spoiled walked a little closer to Moon Dancer, her voice lowered--enough to be considered polite, but still loud enough that everypony in their vicinity, assistants included, would hear her well enough. “I will remember your performance today, Moon Dancer. And then, it will be a miracle if you’re ever able to get funding for another magical research endeavour again.”
Moon Dancer sighed. “It’s not safe. I refuse.”
Spoiled Rich narrowed her eyes at the insolent unicorn. Then, she brought the glare over to her assistants instead. “You. Restart the console. Now.”
Miraculously, one of the assistants did. The earth pony gave Moon Dancer an apologetic look as he rose to his hooves, making his way over to the main breaker panel and fishing out a ring of keys and inserting one into the panel.
The humming of running equipment lowered in pitch and volume almost instantly as the lighted console extinguished. Ahead of them, the first few running lights leading to the firing antenna went out, too, though the antenna building itself stayed illuminated. Evidently, it was running on its own power.
True to Moon Dancer’s word, it was several minutes before the console came back online again. It was plenty of time for Moon Dancer herself to have a whispered conversation with her assistants--one that Spoiled Rich didn’t care enough about to try eavesdropping upon. In less than forty minutes, the entire conversation would be deemed worthless anyways.
In less than forty minutes, the first mortal ponies in recorded Equestrian history would carry out a successful raising of the sun.
In less than forty minutes, Spoiled Rich, Moon Dancer, and everypony else in the control room would shed their status as eager inventors altogether. By then, they would be something far greater.
v
Celestia had been sleeping when it happened.
The entire library shuddered, and Celestia was instantly flung from dreamless sleep into wakefulness.
A few books had been jostled from the intense rumble, and were now laying on the study room bed with Celestia. Dogs were barking in the back alley outside, as Celestia stumbled for her glasses in a daze.
“Celestia!” Twilight exclaimed, already across the study room floor with her eyes wide to meet Celestia as she rose from the bed. “D-did you feel that?!”
“An earthquake?”
“I don’t know! It felt like a shockwave!”
Celestia’s horn lit, and she deposited the two of them unceremoniously onto the roof of the library.
What she saw made her blood curdle and her eyes go wide. It was like a comet in reverse--an immense streak of brighter yellow light fading away into the rest of the orange aerial light pollution. The clouds had parted around the beam of light, disturbed and turned a sickening black as a heavy cloud of smoke joined them on their upwards glide.
Then, Celestia crumbled in agony as a dagger of pain split into her chest.
She hit the ground before Twilight could react and stop her. She wailed, but her ears were ringing too much for her to properly tell at what volume. Twilight was before her in an instant, screaming repeatedly with her horn alight as sound gradually returned to Celestia.
The pain didn’t subside, but it was the same bite as she’d recalled a dagger or magic blast having been. She didn’t like knowing she’d grown used to it, but she was able to stagger her way back to her hooves just in time to see the Sun rise without her help for the first time in almost three thousand years.
“Oh my gods…” Twilight gasped.
Celestia was speechless. She simply stared.
Then, her horn lit. Her wits returned, like a distorted sunset dancing off rippling ocean waves.
Damn you, you worthless old harpy. Get up and do your job.
She hobbled over a few paces closer, leaning onto Twilight for support. The Sun wasn’t where it should’ve been. It should have been further back--she shouldn’t have felt its tug for at least another hour. But she found it’s tug all the same, spreading her wings in case she had to get above the cloud cover to grasp it better.
“It isn’t me,” she said softly. She kept her magic on the Sun’s stream, neither pulling it nor letting go, yet. She could feel it shifting on its own, like she was on a shore holding onto a rope flowing down a river’s current. “It’s been nudged into its orbital pattern without my aid. That is… that is not possible.”
“P-Princess… the Sunstone… I was just about to wake you…”
“No, this can’t possibly be the Sunstone if it were still here.” Celestia pointed a hoof at the fading beam of light. “I can still feel it’s tug. B-but… Twilight, I told you about when I stole the Sun from Discord, yes?”
Twilight nodded many times in rapid succession.
“It f-felt like this.” Celestia exhaled. “S-somepony is challenging my right to raise the Sun. Twilight, I… may need your help.”
“Celestia, the Sunstone was… glowing. I… I talked with Nightmare Moon. She’s…”
“Nevermind the Sunstone. Your magic will suffice, Twi. I need you to keep the Moon up for several hours. Can you do that?”
“Yeah, I think so. Why? Celestia, what are you planning?”
“On extending the night for several hours. They have effectively interrupted the Sun’s orbit around Equestria in order to prove that they may. This is… incredibly dangerous.”
“Then why in Tartarus would they do it?!”
“To prove that they may.” Celestia repeated patiently. She could feel the Sun’s tug as it was guided along Equestria’s orbit… it didn’t seem to be off it’s traditional course. Whatever they had used to raise her sun had been… surprisingly accurate.
She had been careful in the past not to discuss too much the details with which she approached raising the Sun. It hadn’t been as though they hadn’t asked them of her, but her stance had always been firm.
Let her see the damned Sun one last time before they took it away from her.
Time and time again, it had been refused. She’d practically begged Raven on some of her worse days for it.
She exhaled, glancing back to Twilight. The poor mare had been staring up at the inkling yellows and grays on the horizon, her eyes wide as the Moon even as she struggled to find its grasp.
“To be earnest, I was somewhat expecting something like this.These damned ponies have kept me in line by forcing my hoof through stunts such as this. I have dealt with their behaviour before.”
“Y-you think this is them?” Twilight frowned. “The brothers?”
“I… suspect they were involved.” Celestia nodded slowly. “They were inventors, they always had been. Not politicians. But if they have managed to create some way of grasping the Sun via pure energy, I suspect their creativeness was in some way involved.”
“S-so you’re just gonna let them take the Sun?”
“Of course I’m not, Twilight. They cannot be trusted with it, and their willingness to go to these extremes to prove it is evidence of that fact. But if I pull some… extravagant show of magic like I did at the Shades, then…”
Celestia shook her head, pawing at the weather-beaten shingles on the decaying library roof. “It proves that I am prideful. Arrogant. I am… temper tantruming, as they put it.”
“That’s ridiculous. They can’t possibly believe--”
“Imagine the headlines, Twilight Sparkle. Just for a moment. Princess Celestia refuses to raise Sun. Imagine what sort of image that paints in Equestria’s head. Because… regardless of how I act today, this will be a large moment in Equestrian history. This is the first and only time in… in as far as I can remember… a non-alicorn or draconequus has been able to raise the Sun. Ponies deserve to be proud of that fact.”
“Not if they’d done the whole damn thing as a ‘gotcha’ to some mare they tortured!”
“Precisely. And it is a highly irresponsible thing to be using to that end. Imagine if it had failed. They likely would have killed me in a matter of weeks. They would have to expend ludicrous amounts of energy to regain control of the Sun again. I understand that this is a big moment in… ahem, mortal history, as my sister would put it. But to have been done so in the shadows is… questionable.”
“So, what? Are they just crazy?! How could they possibly think this would work?”
“They likely did not. It would explain why they hadn’t tried it in over a decade.” Celestia shook her head. “The brothers were affiliated in some way, but I very much doubt they had any say in it’s usage now. No, I believe this would be an effort of Spoiled Rich. That haughty earthpony mare.”
“Really?”
“She’s likely desperate. She knows that I’m going to destroy her in any actual public broadcast, which makes the prospect of campaigning against me a nightmare to her. A larger portion of Equestria seems to be very interested in the prospect of me taking the reins back from her, and if I’m given a chance to prove it through a fair assembly or vote, I believe it is unlikely they will trust Spoiled Rich over me.”
“Well, especially not after this whole stunt!”
“Twilight, if I interfere from this point forward, I will be putting the entire orbital arrangement of the Sun in jeopardy. This is… an extremely delicate balancing act, to put it lightly, if not being performed with highly refined magical energy. Too drastic, and one risks spinning the entire planet into disarray, without any immediate hope of correction.”
Celestia exhaled. “And… she likely knows through personal analysis of my character that toying with the concept of me losing the sun will…”
“Trigger an emotional response.” Twilight breathed out as Celestia broke off, nodding her head with one ear down as she listened. “They did stuff like this to you before?”
“Yes. And Miss Spoiled Rich is likely aware of it.” Celestia shook her head. “She expected me to react dramatically and make a fool of myself. It would be… much more surprising to her if I simply extended her and her Industry a polite little golf clap and then went back to focusing on my own plans for campaigning.”
“But what if it isn’t safe, like you said?”
“Which is why I am monitoring the Sun.” Celesta pointed to her horn, still alight as she ran her magic around the Sun’s stream.
Shining Armor’s was in there, too. Fading, but it was.
A small tear ran down Celestia’s cheek, but she corrected herself with a little snort and glanced back to Twilight. “I need you to focus on doing the same for the Moon, without lowering it.”
“Wait, so, I’m keeping the Moon risen?”
“Yes. I am… using their own impulsive little chess move as a chance to retaliate myself. I know that seems… ahem, selfish and vainglory of me, but…”
“No, it’s totally called for.” Twilight shook her head. “So, how much longer am I keeping the Moon up, for?”
“At least for a few hours, while I…”
Celestia broke off.
The Sun’s orbit was shifting on her. Whatever they had used to initially grasp the Sun had evidently not been strong enough to do so entirely. She could feel it in her horn… the small tug of gravity for the little green and blue rock Celestia had been protecting, and that of the colossal Sun some hundred-million kilometers away.
Beside her, Philomena had set down nearby, glancing over at Celestia with a pensive stare. The bird had landed down unceremoniously above Twilight Sparkle’s head, using it as a perch to regard Celestia thoughtfully from afar.
“Something is very wron--”
Another earth-shaking shockwave interrupted her. Philomena left Twilight in a flurry of phoenix feathers, the unicorn herself nearly swept off her feet as she grasped onto the library roof railing for balance.
A few windows had been shattered by the second rumble, and the smell of something burning had taken over the air. The Sun seemed to be shuddering to enter the Equestrian sky, Luna’s Moon instead still holding precedence over Equestria.
Far, far away, a thin train of light had split through the sky like a capsized lighthouse beam. An abrupt beacon of light tearing upwards through the thin morning air, as though daring Celestia to get closer.
And, like a moth to the flame, she would do just that.
“Don’t lower the Moon yet, Twilight. We may need it to help tweak the planet’s orbit.” Celestia breathed out, her wings already flaring to life. “Something is very wrong. I would ask you to come, but you cannot fly. I’m counting on you to hold onto Luna’s Moon in case something terrible happens to me.”
“W-what?! Celestia, I want to help! Don’t you dare take off on me!”
“Twilight, I don’t wish to go. No matter what happens to me, this will always be true.” She spread her wings. Clicking her tongue, she let out a quick whistle for Philomena to follow as her trot turned to a canter, before kicking off and beating her wings against the early morning darkness.