//------------------------------// // A Broken Dagger (XIX) // Story: Synthetic Bottled Sunlight // by NorrisThePony //------------------------------// i Shining Armor wasn’t frightened by many things, anymore. He’d been through enough genuine horrors in his life--seen enough violence and hatred and inequinity in his line of work. He’d figured himself somewhat desensitized to the grounding sensation of terror that rooted itself in one’s soul when confronted with a situation beyond their complete understanding.  Seeing the sleek, black and blue form of a New Canterlot Police Department airship hovering over his home on the way back from Aura Gleam’s, however, had the same effect he’d thought he’d left behind in his rookie days in the guard.  There were two cops waiting outside his apartment building. They were both unicorns, each with shotguns levitating in their telekinesis.  “Good afternoon, Captain Shining Armor.”  Shining Armor gave them a single nod--cool and collected, though his heart was racing. “Howdy. Help you boys?”  “I certainly hope so. Why don’t you come inside?”  “Gotta say, I don’t like the way you two are lookin’ at me.” Shining rose an eyebrow, pointing a hoof at the firearms in their magic. “Expectin’ somepony dangerous?” The more vocal of the two offered another question in place of a response. “Where are you coming from, Captain Armor?”  “Don’t believe that’s any of your concern, son. Now, I think you oughta tell me what this is about, before I go getting ideas. Stallion gets a little spooked when he’s got two fellas pointin’ shotguns at his snout.”  The officer instead jerked his head up towards the airship looming above them, anchored to the roof of the apartment complex. “Need you for a job. Not at liberty to tell you anything more than that.”  “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not interested in doing commissions for the Industry anymore,” Shining said, raising an eyebrow. “Though I doubt that answer’s gonna suffice for you. Why else would you need the guns, eh?”  “Captain Armor, we can either do this the--” “Easy way or the hard way, I know.” Shining exhaled, letting out a strained chuckle. Two targets--he could grab them easily in his telekinesis, snap the firing pins of their rifles. Or teleport away, back to Aura Gleam perhaps… ...and then any suspicion they might have about him and his ponies would resolve into fully blown arrest orders. Just as likely, he was the only one in the Industry’s crosshairs right now, and perhaps he could keep it that way with a bit of slight of tongue.  “Alright.” Shining sighed again, trotting forwards into the complex. “Where we going? My place? Or that little flyin’ fortress you parked above.” “The airship.” One of the officers stepped forward as soon as they were in the lobby of the apartment building, a metal band levitating out of a pouch in his jacket. “Stay still, Captain. This is just a precautionary measure.” “A horn inhibitor. Bit more than a precautionary measure,” Shining replied shortly. “Mind tellin’ me what you’re arresting me over?”   “You’re not under arrest.” “Then I’m not putting on the inhibitor. Be straight with me, son, because after my week, dishonesty is the one thing I’m not in the mood to abide by.”  “You’re being taken into police custody because your recent activities have cast suspicion of acts of high treason performed against the State of Equestria, in accordance with Code 194 of the Royal Guard Code of Conduct and Section 97 Subsection 13 of the Revised Charter of Equestrian Rights and Freedoms.” The second guard finally piped up, her voice low and professional. “While you aren’t under explicit arrest yet, your refusal to comply with our orders will be taken into serious consideration with how we proceed with your case, so do keep that in mind before you refuse to put on the inhibitor.”  Shining grit his teeth, but he gave a small nod of his head before angling it downwards for the officer. “Fine.”  Having his magic taken was like having one of his limbs unceremoniously severed from his body. Even if he hadn’t been using it for anything, the sudden knowledge that it was a stolen ability sent a new wave of dread through him as he followed the guards up the steps towards the roof of the complex. Neither of the guards said anything to Shining on the way up, the silence far worse than anything they’d confronted him with thus far.  When Shining broke it to ask if he could call his sister to let her know where he would be, he received no response. Apparently not, he thought bitterly.  The airship was idling on the roof when they exited back into rainy and windy open air. Two more police officers, armed with little else but steely glares, stood on either side of a stallion Shining recognized immediately.  Commissioner Thundercloud. He’d overseen his sister’s arrest a week ago, and Shining hadn’t particularly enjoyed his chats with the stallion. He’d somehow managed to twist his youthful dislike of Celestia into a motivated hatred, and while Shining was apathetic towards such, involving his sister in that goal crossed far too many lines for Shining to overlook.  A hot-headed, far-too-often disciplined recruit during Shining’s time as Captain of the Royal Guard was now a high-ranking officer of Equestria’s newest corporate funded police force. Shining would have to thank Mother Epona for the humbling lesson in karmic justice, sometime.  The guards on both sides of Thundercloud refused to meet Shining in the eyes as he trotted towards the airship, though Thundercloud himself fixed Shining with a single nod. The guards followed him inside, and the idling airship had already begun to prepare for takeoff before the gangplank had even finished shutting behind them. It was a fancily furnished, private affair--for transporting passengers, no prisoners, no doubt--and Shining made his way to a plush sofa and sat down, crossing his forehooves and fixing his police accompaniment with a smug look. “Well? To what do I owe the pleasure of being abducted from my apartment in broad daylight by corrupt Industry goons?”  “It seems you have been quite busy, Captain Shining Armor. I bet you thought we wouldn’t notice.” Thundercloud sat directly across from Shining, speaking in a comically overzealous manner, as though he’d learned his conduct exclusively from pulp fiction cop novels.  “Gonna have to be more specific with me, son. I’ve been busy with a lot of things since you tried to arrest my sister for expressing her freedom of speech.”  “That little anarchist weasel?” he laughed. “I suppose she has them now, doesn’t she?” “Quite fond of speaking in ambiguous cliche, Commissioner. I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  “You were hired by the Industry to help clean up the facility that imprisoned Miss Celestia, correct?”  “If by ‘clean up’ you mean ‘conceal the truth from Equestria’, then yes, I suppose I was hired to do that. Why? Was there something about how I handled the situation that proved unsatisfactory?”  Thundercloud laughed again. “Quite the sharp wit, Captain Armor. You really don’t have any idea how much hot water you’re standing in, do you?”  “I think I’ve got a rather good idea.” Shining leaned back in his chair. He yawned--not because he was tired, but because the rising altitude of the airship demanded he equalize the pressure. “Taped phone lines, eh? And here I thought I was careful.”  “Let’s just say even Celestia’s royal guard aren’t immune to bribery and leave it to that.”  Shining glared. “And here I thought extortion was more your speed, given how you handled my sister’s case. You’re going to need a scapegoat for whatever sunblasted chaos is going to come your way in the immediate future, and that’s the ‘job’ you want from me. That about right? Want me to say I had a hoof in orchestrating this whole thing? I’d bet it’d look nice coming from an ex-servant of the Princess, exposing how little loyalty her own guards have for her.” “While that’s a colourful idea, no, that’s not what we need you for. We’re only here to escort you out of the city to a drop-off location north of Canterlot Mountain.”  “And then what?”  “Out of my hooves.”  Thundercloud fell silent after that, and Shining quickly realized he’d nothing else to ask the stallion himself. They passed over the palace--forlorn and quiet, and then out into open clouds above the Plains of Shattered Shields to the immediate north of Old Canterlot and the monolithic mountain it’d been perched on. They were plains that Shining had stood on a dozen years ago when Sombra’s last ditch efforts to take the Capital had culminated into a bloody, ferocious battle for the world’s future. A tiny, desperate army of Crystal Pony slaves, sent to die on the orders of a mad king. A king who knew his defeat was inevitable, and would rather die on the battlefield outside of Canterlot than surrender.  He still visited the monuments sometimes--the one erected in the Plains themselves, for the Equestrian Army’s survivors. A mighty statue of a generic royal guard, lance pointed forward to confront the memories of an opposing army to the north. The monument for the Crystal Ponies was humbler, and much further north. A little cairn of rock and wood, built against the eternal fury of the blizzards where natural life couldn’t survive. Shining had paid his respects to that one, too, and helped dig out the copper plaque from it’s tomb of snow.  The airship continued on over the plains, apathetic to their historical significance. Shining watched them poke out from between the clouds, his gaze unbroken even when the first traces of arctic air revealed themselves in a wavering whine in the airship’s rotors. ii Fine Line was starting to detest going into work. The environment had shifted dramatically in a short span of time. That much wasn’t too much of a bother to her--she had been expecting it to since the moment Princess Celestia had announced her return. She might have seemed a passive and quiet mare to most, but she’d earned her authority and most of the ponies in the office were at least to some extent aware of it. She wasn’t afraid of confrontations and certainly not of a challenge, and when Princess Celestia had announced her return and her intentions of challenging the Industry publicly, she’d been ready.  Below her, the plaza before the New Canterlot Corporate Branch was the same bustling nightmare it’d been since the month had entered its second week. Ponies had congregated in the same terrifying masses demanding answers, though fortunately, they hadn’t penetrated past the tall fence and security outpost separating the tall government building from the street. The Air Taxi sounded out its cheerful chirruping warning as it began to descend towards the landing pad on the roof of the building, and Fine Line gripped her briefcase in both hooves as it began to corkscrew down. The New Canterlot Corporate Branch where Fine worked was one of the largest buildings in New Canterlot. It stood in the middle of a pleasant, wooded plaza, its many windows catching the early morning sun. “Alright folks. Beginning our descent now.” The Air Taxi’s pilot came over the PA after another shorter chirp, interrupting the easy listening muzak that had been drizzling from the airship’s speakers. “Time’s eight-twenty five. Please wait for the rotors to come to a complete stop ‘fore exiting and have a nice day.”  Fine Line grabbed her briefcase and rose to her hooves, and the second the gangplank of the airship lowered she made her way onto the landing platform with the half-a-dozen other ponies as late to the office as she was.  She had to force a smile as she looked up to see Spoiled Rich waiting for her by the rooftops sitting area. She exhaled a draw of scented cigarette smoke through her nostrils, giving Fine a curt nod as she got closer.  “Mornin’, Miss Rich.” Fine Line nodded back. “Sorry I’m late.”  “Thirty five minutes, Fine. Thirty five.”  “Twenty,” Fine replied, attempting a smile to try and lighten the mood.  “Thirty.” Spoiled narrowed her eyes. “Third time this week. Couldn’t pick a worse time to start shirking your attendance. We need you in the office more than sometimes.”  “I’m sorry, Spoiled. Transit terminal was busy as Tartarus this morning." “Mmhm.” It sounded as unconvinced as Spoiled could possibly have said it. “We need to talk, Fine Line. Come along.”  Fine did her best to keep the forced smile on her face, even as Spoiled clicked her tongue for her to follow as though she were calling a dog. “Of course.”  “As you likely know, we’ve got a crisis down on the industrial level. I don’t know how you allowed this dumpster fire to get this bad, Fine, but if you don’t have it under some semblance of control by the end of the week we’re going to be having a very different conversation.”  Spoiled was speaking in the loud, passive-aggressive tone she seemed to reserve for Fine and the other members of the Industry’s uppermost management… a sort of muted annoyance that expressed her general sentiments about her peers' intelligences without much ambiguity. The other ponies milling about on the roof glanced over at the two mares, and Fine Line made sure to keep her gaze directly at Spoiled instead of letting them see the wavering smile clinging for life on her maw.  This was hardly new for Spoiled. She’d made a point many times before of publicly berating Fine, knowing full well that exposing any imperfections or mistakes in her behaviour for the masses to see would work corrective wonders in ensuring her behaviour tightened up in the future.  “I didn’t let it get this bad, Miss Rich, this is just the first large-scale worker strike we’ve had to deal with.”  “And the fact that it’s happening in the first place is enough of a problem.” Spoiled mashed the button for the elevator with a roll of her eyes. “Can we perhaps wait to discuss this in my office?”  “Absolutely not. You’ve already lost us thirty minutes of company time. If you’re embarrassed, it’s your own fault.”  Mercifully, the elevator opened at that, a few tired-looking ponies from the night shift quickly scurrying out and towards the waiting Air Taxi on the other side of the roof. Spoiled made her way into the elevator first, her tail swishing from side to side as she did. Fine fell into line behind her.  Mercifully, nopony else joined them in the elevator--the Air Taxi had been relatively deserted, with most of the staff far more concerned about their punctuality than Fine Line.  They had their jobs to worry about, after all. Fine Line simply had an irritating faux-superior.  Spoiled hit the button for the topmost floor of the office and then turned her attention back to Fine.  “You’re up to date with how much our stock has gone down since the past month, yes?”  “Yes, I am. It’s my job, after all.”  Spoiled scoffed. “So you claim. Looking forward to how you’re going to justify this, then, because we’re scheduled for another public service announcement later this week. If you embarrass us in front of Miss Celestia like you did last time, I’ll be exceedingly disappointed.”  “I hardly think our performance then was an embarrassment.” Fine Line returned. “Nor do I feel comfortable accepting full responsibility for it even if it was.”  Internally, she chided herself for even trying. It was another classic and patented Spoiled Rich strategy, after all. The mare had always found it simpler to devalue the performances of others than elevate them.  From any other mare, it would have been an annoyance. Spoiled Rich didn’t exactly outrank Fine, after all--the Industry’s Board of Directors was just that, a board, and Spoiled was hardly the only member. But she was certainly the only member who’d put a conscientious effort into making sure her peers stayed in line. Conjecture, of course, as any one of the State’s judges would have claimed. It was both amazing and terrifying the strings Spoiled Rich’s fortune had afforded her free range to pull.  It was, in many ways, a strange sort of karmic justice to Fine Line. She hadn’t known what her company had been doing to her former Princess until recently--she’d always bought into the whole Suntrotter narrative herself--but learning of Celestia’s terrifying imprisonment had put her own personal position into a sort of poetic equivalency.   “Really? Because I remember you passively giving in to every one of that old mare’s taunts and remarks. I remember you admitting to Ungulate Rights Violations on behalf of the entire Industry.” “We were speaking collectively as a group. I sure as Tartarus didn’t hear you or that mayor sloth chiming in when it mattered most.” Fine Line glared over, fanning a hoof. “Also, put that out in the godsdamned elevator, Spoiled.” “Truly, a mistake on my part to allow you the luxury.” Spoiled rolled her eyes again. “I should hope you will instead remain silent until questioned for our next appearance.”  “I apologize if you disagree with how I chose to handle myself publicly.” Fine glanced around the elevator, hoping the other ponies were too lost in their own worries to pay attention to her own. “What would you have said in my stead, then?”  “I wouldn’t have said anything, you twit.” Spoiled scoffed. “Nor did I have any intentions to.”  “We privately stated to her that we would be willing to. Your intern did so on your orders. You sent poor Silver Spoon to deal with the bloody Princess without so much as a 'good luck'. So don’t pull that ‘no comment’ crap with me!” Fine Line shot back. “You act like the poor mare doesn’t deserve some godsdamned compensation.”  Beside her, Spoiled Rich’s snout quivered a little.  Fine Line internally cheered, though she settled for a passive smile. “My point is, back off. I’m not sitting by and taking the fall for you.”  “Quite.” Spoiled growled out. “Though, your efforts to placate her thus far have failed.”  “Because she’s not taking a bribe. This is about the power to her. She wants the nice desk. I worked with her, I know. It’s the damned thing that Sprinkle mare keeps ranting about on the front page of the New Canterlot Herald.”  “Yes, but that doesn’t change the simple fact that solving this problem was your responsibility. You’ll take whatever fall you deserve for failing to do so this far, Fine Line.”  If she had more to say, the elevator interrupted her. The doors opened to offer a fleeting glimpse of the city zoning department before a mare and stallion poured into the elevator with Spoiled and Fine. The doors closed again, and the rest of the elevator ride upwards passed in much appreciated silence, the elevator carrying them all the way up to the twenty-seventh floor.  The two other ponies scurried out first, evidently wanting to put as much distance between the passively feuding mares as possible. Fine aimed to thank them later.  “Come along, Fine Line,” Spoiled commanded, an irritatingly chipper trill. The two mares flashed their badges to the security guard at the front office, Spoiled leading the way down the brief corridor. It was lined on both sides by golden-doored elevators, the hall quickly opening up to the maze of cubicles on the second-to-tallest floor of the Main Corporate Branch. A familiar ambient hum of talking ponies and ringing phones and the scent of freshly brewed coffee was the chosen incense of the room.  Spoiled and Fine’s office, as well as the other offices of the Industry’s central board of directors, lined the left side of the room, distanced from the cubicles by a half-wall and a forest of fake potted plants--as though the cubicles were an offense that had to be obscured through artificial foliage. Their offices, by contrast, were generous and sizable and had their own waiting rooms and secretary separate from the plush couches on the main floor. Fine’s secretary, a quiet and moody young earth pony mare named Grace Manewitz, perked up when Spoiled and Fine Line entered. “Miss Fine, I’ve got seven new memos for you and three missed calls from--”  “Save it, ordinary pony.” Spoiled cut in, glaring daggers at Manewitz. “She’ll deal with them when I’m done dealing with her.”  “J-just hold my calls until ten, Grace. Thanks.” Fine sighed. Any of the humiliation she’d felt on the elevator ride up came back ten-fold, as she trailed behind Spoiled into her own office and offered her own secretary a sympathetic and apologetic frown.  Fine Line’s office was, at least, a nice one. The window overlooked the sparkling Lake Canterlot and its boardwalk two hundred meters down--a nice sight when the weather co-operated, and the sun sparkling off the water had always been a welcome sight to enjoy her coffee and early morning thoughts. Her office had a few loveseats next to a bookshelf in one corner, and her desk was lined with a few photos of her family, although the photos were fighting a losing custody battle with the profit charts and stock reports sprawled haphazardly across the maplewood executive desk. Grace had left Fine’s coffee and the morning paper’s stock report atop the mess, and though it had already begun to cool, the lukewarm latte felt heavenly to Fine’s tongue as she sat down at her desk.  Spoiled stayed standing, walking past Fine to look outside as she spoke, apparently discontent standing in front of her inferior’s desk. “Industry’s stocks don’t look good today, do they?”  It dripped off the mare’s tongue in her dreadful venomous tone.  “Large scale striking will have that effect, yes.” Fine exhaled. “I hear three of our factories have ceased production entirely.”  “It’s five now, Fine. I need you to start telling me your ideas on fixing this.”  Fine was silent, taking another sip of her coffee and glancing over at the paper. She flipped it over, and was greeted by a front cover photo of Princess Celestia at one of their steel mills--goofy smile on her face, hardhat atop her head. Surrounded on all sides by dozens of grizzled looking workers.  An old photo, taken months ago. But one that Fine had seen in circulation often again, after the striking had begun.  Celestia had endorsed this months ago, after all. Only fitting that evidence of such would resurface once she’d begun floating the idea a second time.  “Well?” Spoiled snapped, whipping around to glare at Fine. “I’m listening.”  “I’m not a strikebreaker, Spoiled. This is outside of my purview.”  “Your ‘purview?’ This isn’t a Mane Austen novel, Fine!” Spoiled snarled, rolling her eyes. “We’re gonna have to explain to all of Equestria when in Tartarus the nation is going back to work, and I’m going to need to tell them something. So you’d better start justifying your position to me pronto.”  Fine sighed. “Alright, alright. Take a bloody seat, Spoiled. It’s wages, yes? They want a wage raise?”  “It’s the central demand of theirs.” Spoiled nodded. She refused Fine’s request, of course, staying staring out at the lake ahead. “Among others. Safer working conditions, mandated breaks. I heard tell of one of those idiotic blue-collars asking for maternity leave. Can you believe that?”  Fine sipped her coffee, deeming it momentarily more important than Spoiled’s melodramatic plight. “Have we offered a response to them, yet?”  “No. But every day we don’t, production stays halted. Our stocks drop lower. Your incompetence at managing this situation becomes more obvious.”  “I feel as though you’re making this entire situation my problem even though it’s a rather nuanced and complex issue, Spoiled. I only oversee the company’s overall spending expenses.”  “And this is the largest expense we’ve had since this company’s genesis. And you’re asleep at the wheel.”  Fine Line shuffled in her seat, grabbing the newspaper in her hooves again. The entire front page was devoted to the Spring Strike, and it continued to be a pervasive influence across the rest of the paper as well. “Well, we need to get them back to work. Seems to me like we should be considering offering them their demands.”  Spoiled scoffed. “Give in to their petty laziness? And what sort of precedent does that set?”  “Well what, then, Spoiled? We call in strikebreakers? Y’think Princess Celestia is gonna take to that well?”  “The opinion of Miss Celestia--a glorified terrorist with a martyrdom complex--is of little relevance to me.”  “She’s going to put herself between them like she did with that incident in the Shades.” Fine pointed out. “That’ll then get reported on extensively, too. You can bet her squeeze in the journalist cap will be on that like a fly on feces. Then, we’ll have more riots, not less, when the ponies of Equestria realize that our response to their concerns is to go in with batons and start breaking hooves. We do that, and we’re just gonna be reliving the fallout of the Hollow Shades all over again.”  Spoiled Rich scoffed. “This corporation has been the forefront of Equestrian progress for over a decade. It’s brought on more change and wealth to this nation than ever before in its history, and I certainly hope it’s ponies dare not see themselves above overlooking that.”  Fine was silent for several moments, a silence during which the two mares simply listened to the minimalistic clock on the office wall ticking away their morning.  “Celestia isn’t going to just vanish, you know.” Fine eventually said. “And you still haven’t proposed any proactive course of action to placate her.”  “I already told you, Spoiled. She wants the throne. She isn’t going to rest until she’s closer to it. We already told her, publicly, she would be eligible for candidacy. Florina was the one who said it to her.”  “And she has already told me she regrets doing so. As she should.” “No, she did the right thing. Celestia does deserve to be treated with dignity, and withholding that from her is… inequine.”  Spoiled let out an annoyed huff. “She would destroy everything this company has built, Fine Line. All of our progress, gone. Everything that we, personally, have worked to protect, she will immediately undo. She is not a hero, she is dangerous and arrogant and I will not feel guilt for the decisions performed by ponies twelve years ago from a place of immense fear. Because, inequine or not, Equestria was better off without her. And I will do everything I can to make sure Equestrians understand that.” “Spoiled, how long have you known?”  Spoiled brought a hoof to her chest, looking offended. “Known? Known of what?” “You know what. Her imprisonment. You knew before she escaped, didn’t you?” “Why ever would you assume that?” Spoiled rolled her eyes, letting out a haughty chuckle.  “Because you signed off on nearly a million bits worth of ghost-expenses annually. I noticed the discrepancies years ago--a not-insignificant chunk of the industry’s budget just… vanishing.”  “Breakage, Fine Line. Do try to keep up with the concept.”  Fine Line laughed out loud, and sipped her coffee. “Hardly. Initially, I’d assumed it was money laundering. I scoffed and wondered how gods damned big your yacht has to be before you were satisfied. But when the photos and floorplans of that facility were leaked by that Sparkle journalist, I went to crunching numbers. Finding out how much it would cost to keep that prison up and running, and comparing it against ghost-expenses that you, as chief chair of this company’s directorial board, would have been made aware of. Which means, you had to have known.”  Spoiled had grown pale, and the smug, ever patronizing smile had fled her expression. She was looking at Fine with a look of abject horror, her eyes darting from Fine to the oak door as though expecting Princess Celestia herself to burst through it with a flare of magic.  Then, she collected herself with a little chuckle, shaking her head. “What wild theories you entertain in that creative little head of yours. Your talents are better reserved for pulp novels, it seems.”  “I haven’t told anyone yet, Spoiled. But this will have to come out eventually.”  Spoiled let out a long sigh, fixing Fine with a firm glare. “I advise you to steer clear of this line of questioning, if you value your job. Because those lost expenses are very easy to pin on you. And I know Judge Lawful Rule loves hearing about incompetent employees who attempt to shift their failings onto their superiors. I can have one of my lawyers talk to him, if that is what you want?”  Fine frowned. It’d been nice, knocking that smug smile off of Spoiled’s makeup infested face, but it was back again with renewed vigor regardless. “If it comes out, you concealing it will be seen as a major felony.”  “Concealing what? I knew nothing about this until you brought it up to me.” Spoiled waved a hoof dismissively. She turned back away again--a large cargo airship was approaching the building, undoubtedly bound for the warehouses at the street-level floor, and apparently it seemed more interesting to Spoiled than making eye-contact with Fine.  “Now, with this considered,” Spoiled was saying. “Please go on and explain to me why letting Miss Celestia sniff around our offices would possibly be a good idea. I am sure she has our best interests in mind.”  “She stated she has no intentions for revenge.”  “And she lies quite well about that fact.”  “I never knew Celestia to be a liar when I served her in Day Court.”  “A testament to either her efficiency, or your stupidity.” Spoiled snorted at her own joke. “Perhaps both.”  “My point, Spoiled, is that if we are to go back on our statements that she would be welcome to apply for candidacy as the nation’s prime minister at the next election, we would have to justify why. We should be considering what our response to that shall be.”  “Florina is the mare to discuss that with. Not me.”  “Oh really?” Fine rolled her eyes. “But you are such a well of creative solutions, Spoiled.”  Spoiled chose to conveniently ignore Fine’s sarcasm. “I am busy enough with my own affairs, thank you very much.”  Fine frowned. “Such as?” “Such as wondering why you have driven us down this tangent, instead of offering a solution to our worker walk-out crisis.” Spoiled pursed her lips, gazing over her shoulder. “If we give in to their demands, where will we be drawing those funds from?”  Fine rubbed her temples with a hoof. A headache, already. She hadn’t even been in the office for thirty minutes. “How about salary cuts on our end?”  “Excuse me?”  “We make no small percentage more in a month than a dozen factory workers do annually.”  “A luxury of our hard work and achievement. Some more than others, which is why I have the authority to tell you how silly of an idea--”  “Shut up and listen to me for a minute, Spoiled.” Fine Line cut in, tapping her desk with a hoof. Spoiled whipped around, her eyes alight with indignation. It took legitimate effort on Fine’s part not to burst out laughing at her peeved superior. “We need to cut expenses someplace to accommodate a universal payraise for factory workers. Make no mistake, this is going to cost us a fortune. But if we show we’re willing to take that hit--not only do we fulfill their demands, we have something self-sacrificially positive to declare to Equestria next week. It’s…”  Fine trailed off, giving a little shrug. It was a valid thought, but she knew it wasn’t one Spoiled would agree on.  “It’s what, Fine?” Spoiled growled out, tapping a hoof impatiently.  “It’s... what Princess Celestia would do, if she were in our position.”  Spoiled scoffed. “Not surprising a former servant of the Princess would time and time again expose herself as an accomplice to her treachery.”  “I never said that. I’m loyal to this company. But right now, a large chunk of Equestrians aren’t exactly convinced that we’re loyal to them.”  “Hrmph.” Spoiled mumbled out the wordless expression of thoughtfulness. She pursed her lips, frowning as she thought things over. Eventually, she gave Fine a single nod. “Well. I think it’s rather noble of you to offer to ask for a salary cut in response to this affair.”  “I don’t believe I personally said I was--”  “You will not be alone in this salary cut. But considering it was your idea, it seems only fair you are included. I will speak with the payroll department immediately.” “And I don’t suppose you yourself will be, right, Spoiled?”  Spoiled laughed. “I believe you know the answer to that one already.” Fine Line felt her cheeks flushing red, genuine anger killing the indignant annoyance that had come to occupy her morning. A more feral, more immature part of her felt an unshakeable temptation to tackle Spoiled Rich through the glass window of their twenty-story office.  “If that’s it, get the hell out of my office, Spoiled.”  Spoiled laughed. “Fearsome, Fine Line. But I am not finished with you. But let me just say... your attitude has been sour for a week now, and I advise you to correct it.”  “You have nothing to blackmail me with, Spoiled. I’ve been careful. Now get out before I have Grace escort you out.”  “And I’ll be in talks with the payroll department, then. Unless you have a brighter idea for dealing with this situation.” Fine sighed, giving a little shrug. “I’m going to go over my memos with my secretary. I’ll go visit the strikelines and see what sort of wages they’re seeking. If you’re looking for me in that time, tough luck to you. Figure out with Florina how you’re gonna refute Celestia’s next speech, because you can bet I’ll be obeying your commands to keep silent while you pour gasoline all over your newest private airship’s downpayment.”  Spoiled Rich stormed out in hardly-disguised fury, as Fine had been expected. She’d had her door slam two rooms over, and she stifled a little chuckle as she lit her horn. Fine prodded the desk drawer open in her telekinesis, levitating out a jar of caffeine pills and promptly dissolving one in her morning latte.  She took a long sip, and then tapped the button for her intercom.  “Grace? You alive in there?”  Fine heard her chuckle from the other room and shuffle with her affairs before her door flung open. Her secretary already had her memos in her hooves, and she navigated around Fine’s office to put them down gingerly on her desk.  “What’s got her so huffy?”  “As if you have to ask.” Fine rolled her eyes. “How was little Silver Shores’ piano recital?”  “Couldn’t tell ya. Had to stay late.”  “S-sorry.”  “Somethin’ keepin’ you from the office, Fine? Cause… y’know I don’t mind helpin’ out, but I can’t hold the fort down here on my own. If you’re planning on leaving me with fifteen voicemails again, you’re going to have to start paying me overtime..”  “I know, Grace. C-can we run through those memos?”  “Read ‘em yourself. I’ve patched you through to your voicemail line already, so get listenin’, cause that switchboard has been lighting up all mornin’ and I doubt it’s gonna be stopping anytime soon.”  “Alright. Listen, take a half day if you have to today, Grace. I’ll make sure you’re paid. I’m not gonna be in the office today, so just tell them to call back tomorrow.”  “Where are you going outside the office?”  “The strikelines.” “Alone? You’re braver than I thought.” Grace rolled her eyes. “Look, it’s whatever, I’ll stick around. But I’m not stayin’ late for you today.”  “Like I said. Answering machine is fine.”  “Seriously though, Fine, is everything okay? Cause Spoiled seemed upset and you kinda do, too.”  “You know how she gets when she’s stressed. Trust me, I’ve got this under control.”  “Considering me brimming with confidence, then.” Grace rolled her eyes, turning to leave. “I’ll ring the security office to be ready to send up a dashing stallion who shall accompany you to the strikelines.”  “How thoughtful.” Fine rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Grace.”  iii Fine Line hadn’t predicted her visit to the strikelines to have been free of drama.  She’d also not expected to have had to leave less than an hour into her visit, once it became dreadfully clear just how unwelcome she was. She’d done her best to speak over the masses, but she quickly learned that it did not matter. She’d descended upon a group of concerned, angry ponies dressed in grime and oil, while she herself was dressed in an expensive suit jacket and shouldered on both sides by heavyset earth pony guards.  The factories were filthy, and Fine truly did not like visiting them. Even the train on the way in had been filthy--and she had the luxury of a personal compartment on the train’s caboose. She couldn’t imagine what it had been like for the working ponies, packed like lemmings along the rumbling and shuddering ride into the veil of industrial smog.  Thankfully, most had already arrived long before Fine had. The train station was kept as clean as the train had been--which meant cracked boards and grime stained walls on the inside, and a world of grey on the outside. The sky had abandoned this part of Equestria, it seemed.  The smell was just as oppressive. One of Fine’s guards offered her a respirator when he’d seen her shielding her snout with a hoof, but she shook her head.  She was already an untouchable alien to these ponies. Why drive that dagger in deeper?  She’d been expecting plenty hatred when she’d waltzed into sight of the working population of Equestria, and she’d been correct in her predictions. Plenty of angry, hate-filled cries snarled at her as she weaved her way into the steel mill. A few hurled stones in Fine’s direction. None of them came close to hitting, but Fine didn’t suspect they’d been intended to.   She had to force a neutral frown on her face, even as she felt dread weighing her steps down. These ponies hated her. They hated who she worked for, they hated what she stood for. She wasn’t a mare with a husband and foals waiting for her at home anymore. She was a tool of a State that had been doing unspeakable things to them for more than a decade, and getting away with it richer than she’d been before. She deserved it.  Inside the mill had been marginally better--the forepony of the mill had welcomed her to his office, where she’d eagerly followed him to retreat from the unrest outside.  There, Fine had been told plenty of what she already knew. Everything seemed to be in a landslide around them. The Hollow Shades incident had given way to environmental protests, and when the working populace had seen their effectiveness, they’d very quickly realized just how much power they themselves could hold running along the same path. Celestia, and that Twilight Sparkle mare, hadn’t been shy about stoking those flames, either, but deep down Fine knew that they would have roared to life even if the two hadn’t said anything.  There was no going back from where they were rapidly going, now.  When Fine had left the strikelines in the late afternoon, she’d done so with a more complete list of worker demands tucked away in her briefcase. The demands were expensive. Unrealistic. She’d never be able to accommodate them all, but she hadn’t the guts to tell that to the striking ponies. Instead, she’d told them she would be ‘looking into it.’  In the back of her head, Fine wondered if her chronic anxiety had finally convinced her that she really was on a sinking ship. Perhaps that was why it felt like she was trodding through three feet of murky water as she followed her guards back to the Industrial Way Train Station.  The train itself was still waiting for them at the station, letting out a few curt sighs of steam. It would be a few moments before it was ready to depart back to New Canterlot, and so Fine excused herself to the bathroom.  The hateful cries from the strikelines returned to her as she closed the door. In the little fillies room, away from her Industry guard entourage, she’d wept into the mirror for all of thirty seconds. Then, with a weary exhale, she splashed her face with a quick rinse of cold water and carefully reapplied her makeup, before heading back out into the Industrial Way Train Station.  Her guards looked concerned, but neither commented as she trotted over to a payphone on the train platform and shoved a few bits in. Cracked glass, a receiver that looked as though it had seen better days... “Need you to transfer me to a Raven Inkwell in Old Canterlot, please.” Fine spoke before the static poltergeist of the operator could even greet her.  “One moment, please!”   It took nearly three minutes before her call was transferred through--plenty of time for Fine to chide herself for such a ludicrously unorthodox and unprofessional waste of company time. Although she’d perhaps dealt with Raven Inkwell plenty of times before, it had never been for anything even remotely resembling a personal affair. Simply persistent, fruitless attempts to try and get the old secretary back onto the Industry’s payroll, or else offer her some cash settlement in exchange for a nice and juicy statement about Celestia’s thinly veiled insanity.  Fine had felt like a loathsome stain everytime she’d offered, but it was her job. And if she wouldn’t have done it, it would only be a matter of time before Spoiled had somepony more selfish replace her.  She’d known Raven back when the two of them had both served under Celestia, of course, and their relationship had been a much friendlier one back then. But, while Raven had done her best to distance herself from the Industry’s association, Fine had held onto as much semblance of her old life as they’d promised her. If there was some disgust there on Raven’s part, Fine was hardly surprised.  “Raven Inkwell.” Celestia’s secretary was brief and to the point. “Who’s speaking?”  “Hello, Miss Inkwell. My name is Fine Line, I’m the Chief Secretary of Finance for--” “You’ve got ten seconds to convince me not to hang up on you, Miss Fine Line.”  “I understand.” Fine forced a smile as she glanced back at her guards. They were both watching her intently and curiously--this hadn’t been on the day’s docket, after all. “I’m not calling on Industry business, Miss Inkwell.”  “Then you have no reason to call me at all. I have nothing for you.”  “Miss Inkwell, I just need… twenty minutes of your time. You… you’re back to working for Princess Celestia, r-right? I need help, and I… I don’t know who to turn to anymore.”  “We aren’t friends, Fine Line. You’re wasting my time.”  “Miss Inkwell, I want to--”  The sentence died as a click and a dial tone replaced Raven Inkwell’s static distorted voice. Fine let out a shaky sigh, levitating the receiver back onto the cradle and walking out of the phonebooth.  “Is… everything okay, ma’am?” One of her guards piped up, tilting his head.  Fine responded with a simple curt nod, and started to make her way back to the train platform.  iv Fine’s week passed in the same hectic frenzy.  They’d done their best to prepare for their next publicized meeting with Princess Celestia, but Fine still felt as though she’d been suddenly teleported through time and space and into the radio studio within the New Canterlot Corporate Branch.  She never would have thought that being a crewmare on a sinking ship would have been so trance-like, but here she was, fiddling with the frills on her dress while Florina and Spoiled bickered in the other side of the room about something or other that sounded like droning white noise static to Fine Line.  Six o’clock came, and Celestia and Twilight Sparkle had shown up without ceremony or escort, simply a flash of magic. Spoiled and Florina both started a bit, but Fine had been eying the clock on the wall and anticipating the Princess’s prompt entrance. Against her better judgment under the sideways glares of Spoiled, Fine gave a polite bow of her head, which Celestia reciprocated with a little smile.  “Good evening,” Celestia said, her voice level and relaxed. Beside her, Twilight Sparkle gave a distracted little wave, already levitating a notepad out of her own saddlebag and starting to fiddle with shoving a brand new tape into an audio cassette recorder.  Celestia was dressed in shining silver regalia, though she hadn’t bothered wearing a crown to accompany it. She met the three mares with a confident smile, and Fine knew without a sideways look that Spoiled must have been terrified.  Florina, thankfully, took point by way of a step forward and a greeting bow. “Nice to see you again, Miss Celestia. You look well.”  “Thank you, dear.”  Spoiled, clearly outnumbered by her accompaniment, forced herself to greet Celestia with a bow as well. “I look forward to our talk together, Miss Celestia. I hope we’re able to clear up any misunderstandings you may have about our relationship in the future.”  “...Quite,” Celestia said after a pregnant pause. “Well? Let’s not delay, yes?”  “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover tonight.” Twilight Sparkle piped up, sharing a sideways grin with Celestia.  Spoiled made an attempt to match their look, genuine emotion struggling and failing to reveal itself in her exaggerated smile.  They were led into the building proper by one of the studio’s assistants, the half-moon spectacle wearing mare nodding to the spacious recording booth past the entrance lobby. A long round table, a half-dozen or so seats around it, adorned with microphones snaking their way towards a smaller recording booth separated by a plate of sound-proof glass. Florina led the way inside, Spoiled falling in line behind them and Celestia and Twilight quickly falling into step behind them both. Fine Line awkwardly took the back of the march into the studio, choosing to look at her hooves instead of the flank of Twilight Sparkle immediately in front of her, plugging a microphone into her tape recorder as she took a seat next to Celestia.  Fine took her seat beside Florina and Spoiled. She took a moment to fiddle with her microphone, glancing over at the extinguished ON AIR sign to the left of her and letting out a shaky breath.  She’d thought her distracted fidgeting had been subtle, but apparently, Princess Celestia had noticed.  “Nervous?” Celestia shot Fine a little smirk--the Princess had probably intended it as comforting, but it already had Fine Line internally memorizing the immediate emergency exits of the studio. “Me too, dear.”  Fine said nothing, levitating her headphones onto her head. Spoiled and Florina were already in the process of doing the same, the sound of a calming string quartet and piano accompaniment thankfully easing Fine’s nerves by a hair. The violins and cellos eventually resolved into a mournful little piano solo that faded out to polite audience clapping, and Fine let out one last exhale before the red light of the ON AIR sign clicked to life at the same time as the radio host’s voice.  “Good evening, fillies and gentlecolts. It’s six o’clock on the dot, you’ve got it tuned to The Whinny, your premier source of a little bit of everything. I’m your host Sharp Shot, coming from our studio here in fabulous New Canterlot to wherever in Equestria you fine ponies might be listening from.” Celestia tilted her head thoughtfully, lifting her headset to whisper something into Twilight’s ear, who let out a little chuckle.  “I have in the studio with me a rather eclectic and much anticipated company, who’s discussion I’m sure you listeners have been eager to hear. We have Miss Celestia, Miss Twilight Sparkle, and a hoof-full of representatives from Flim Flam Industry here, giving their opinions on the recent civil unrest across Equestria. Without further ado, here’s your ex-Princess herself and her lovely assistant, Celestia and Twilight Sparkle.”  “Good evening, Equestria.” Celestia spoke first--as she’d apparently grown custom to doing at these interviews by now. “And good evening to you as well, Sharp Shot. As well as the fine representatives from Flim Flam Industry with us here.”  Spoiled took the liberty of introducing Florina and Fine, and Fine was more or less content with her doing so.  “Well. Where to begin, hrm?” Florina was the first to break the silence, doing so with a little chuckle. “Guess we oughta confront the elephant in the room and discuss Miss Celestia’s much-talked-about confrontation outside of a small farming town a few months ago. It seems a great deal of misinformation has been publicly spread about this fact, and I  think we’d both like to clear the air a bit.” “A public statement, then?” Celestia tilted her head, glancing from Florina to Spoiled, evidently not seeing Fine as much of a challenge. “Do share your interpretation of that event, and I will share my own.”  “Happily.” Spoiled spoke up. “During the afternoon of the fifteenth of May, a scheduled demolition project of a small portion of Equestrian crown land was interrupted by a group of protestors, assisted by Miss Celestia. Flim Flam Industry has since ceased any further resource production until this matter has been resolved.”  Across from Fine, the Sparkle mare was writing down thoughtfully, while Celestia listened with a passively thoughtful frown. When Spoiled finished, she cleared her throat. “And my interpretation, while fundamentally similar, offers what I believe are several important details that Miss Spoiled Rich has not noted; On the fifteenth of May, I visited with a tribe of thestrals, native to the wilderness of the Hollow Shades, a wildlife refuge located outside of Fillydelphia. I was immediately informed of the resident’s fears about an aggressive State-funded demolition project that was putting their food and resource situation into jeopardy. “The more I learned, the more it became obvious that the thestrals were fearful of their culture’s and home’s survival. I vowed to act, and did so by helping them forcibly stop what can only be described as an aggressive assault on the forest where they lived. I did this after my polite requests for the project’s halting were thoroughly ignored.”  Celestia leaned back, glancing over at Twilight who gave Celestia a single nod. Celestia, apparently encouraged, turned back to her microphone. “That is my own personal summary of the events as I interpreted them over the course of that day.”  “I will object to several of those ‘clarifications’,” Florina piped up, her voice level and calm. “The Hollow Shades’ status as a wildlife refuge was removed nearly a decade ago. Having visited it myself several times, I can state with confidence that its residents have been presented with plenty of opportunities to relocate, and they have adamantly refused.”  “So I have heard. I have also heard, from them, that they are disinterested in relocating. They like their home, and they have centuries of history there. Who do you think you are, telling them otherwise?”  “Their government,” Spoiled replied shortly. “But yes. You do make a valid point, and this is exactly the reason why we have ceased our efforts there until we have come to a mutual agreement.”  “They wish for you to leave and never come back. That is the only agreement they will consider.”  Fine cleared her throat, her heart racing as she finally spoke up. “While I understand their perspective, I would hope they at least consider the fact that their forest was not chosen at random. It is an ancient forest, yes, but this means that many of their trees are… utterly massive. One acre of logging in the Hollow Shades is the equivalent of about a dozen in the Whitetail Woods or Everfree Forest. It is less harmful to the natural state of Equestria as a greater whole to pursue logging endeavours there.”  Fine moved back from the microphone with her heart still beating in her chest. Spoiled and Florina were both looking ahead at Celestia curiously for her answer, and Fine felt a little wave of relief that she apparently hadn’t said anything utterly stupid on their behalf.  Celestia herself gave a gentle nod of her head. "An interesting point. This does not, however, change the fact that their plight has been largely ignored. Their perspectives on the issue have gone untold by Equestrian media. This much has been made clear by Equestria’s prompt reaction to having been made aware of them.”  “A mistake that I assure you we do not intend to repeat again in the future,” Florina said. “That much I can promise you.” “You will forgive me if I am not entirely confident in that claim, my dear.” Celestia shook her head sadly.  Beside Fine, Spoiled bristled a little, adjusting her microphone and affixing Celestia with a cold gaze. “Miss Celestia, our goals begin and end with assuring the well-being of the Equestrian population."  “I do not believe you.”  In that moment, Fine knew how imperative it was that she stepped in. She’d seen Spoiled get tangled up in her selfish emotions before--she’d learned how to navigate around her emotional tirades well enough on her own to be able to predict them.  She’d also been around Celestia enough to tell when she was tugging away at somepony’s mood to see what threads came loose.  But Spoiled had made her stance clear going into this interview. Be silent until she was spoken to. Fine found herself surprised just how pleased she was to oblige as Spoiled’s temper flared beside her.  “Ma’am, you do not know the first thing about me, nor my commitment to this corporation.” Spoiled said, her glare on Celestia and Twilight unbroken. “To me, it seems you are the one intentionally raising doubt about our motives. You were the one who escalated the Hollow Shades incident, and you were the one who continued praising the rebellious nature of the ponies who acted in blind reactionary ways to the half-truths they’d gleaned from newspaper headlines and photographs. So don’t go accusing me of lying when I’ve watched you intentionally stir fear and doubt across Equestria for the past month.”  Celestia leaned back in her seat, an amused smirk on her face as she regarded Spoiled. Her gaze shifted over to Florina, who looked desperate to be anyplace else, and Fine, who managed to meet the alicorn’s smile with an awkward frown of her own. ‘I just work here’, she may as well have mouthed to Celestia herself.  “I… have done little else but recount my experiences with various representatives of your corporation.” Celestia’s voice was level and patient. “And any patterns of behaviour or activity that Equestrians may have noticed is something that I trust they are smart enough to not be manipulated into believing. The fact of the matter, Miss Spoiled Rich, is that the truth itself is frightening to them. The knowledge that their former Princess was tortured and imprisoned and sentenced to death is frightening. The knowledge that they have been lied to about the chemicals polluting their water is frightening. The idea that the food and water supply of a village of peaceful thestrals was compromised while they fought with desperation to conserve them… that is what has Equestria frightened. And I did not have a hoof in performing any of that. That, my dear, is on you, and your corporation. Think about that before you use your pledge of allegiance to them as a defense to me.”  Celestia’s speech sent the three of them into silence, both Florina and Fine glaring at Spoiled to break the looming dead air threatening to consume their credibility. Spoiled had led Celestia down this road, she’d gods damn well better get them back out of it in one piece.  Thankfully, Spoiled did eventually speak up. “I recall a very distinct phrase that was spoken by you, Miss Celestia. ‘There are more of you than them’, I believe it was, in reference to the worker unrest before it had culminated into full fledged protests.”  “No.” Twilight Sparkle finally spoke up, putting down her pen as she did. “I said that. I  published it the first opportunity I could get, on the front page of the New Canterlot Herald, no less. They practically begged me for an article. I stand by everything I said, too.”  “Where did you go to school for your journalism degree, Miss Sparkle?” Spoiled Rich tilted her head.  “Same place you went to learn how to tell the truth to Equestria.” Twilight Sparkle was, surprisingly, quick on the verbal draw. “You’re never going to convince me that those ponies choosing to stand up for their safety is a bad thing, so we may as well move on to something else.”  “Now that you’ve gone and spoken up, I think perhaps we should move on to you, Miss Sparkle.” Spoiled gave the awkward unicorn a predatory grin.  Twilight blinked. She opened her mouth and closed it again, her statement evidently abandoned.  “As I understand it, Miss Celestia sees you as somewhat of an apprentice.” Spoiled continued. “Is that about right, Celestia?”  Celestia nodded. “In an ideal world, I would like for her to remain by my side when I retake my throne.”  “‘When you retake your throne.’” Florina quoted. “This became a ‘when’ quite suddenly. I never got that memo.”  Celestia chuckled. “In an ideal world, I said. But yes. Twilight has been an integral part of helping me rehabilitate myself into Equestria. She’s a smart and compassionate mare and I trust her with unwavering conviction.”  “And she’s not even remotely qualified to run a carrot stand, much less have a hoof in running a nation.” Spoiled shook her head. “What does she have to show for herself, professionally? No history of public office. No history of civil service.”  “I do not recall your Industry being on the Royal Treasury’s payroll either, Miss Spoiled Rich.” Celestia matched Spoiled’s predatory grin with one of her own. “No history of public office. No history of civil service. Killing the Queen of Prance doesn’t make you the Queen of Prance, my dear.”  Spoiled Rich looked offended, and Celestia kept the smug smile plastered on her face as she fell silent.  “That might be, but I’m able to learn. I know my, uh. Past, isn’t exactly ideal, and my experience is questionable.” Twilight Sparkle spoke up, evidently putting some effort into keeping her voice calm and restrained. “But Celestia has thousands of years of experience. And I believe I can continue to learn much from her, as I have in the time I’ve known her.”  Spoiled seemed to take objection to that, and Fine heard her offer some snide replay. She didn’t hear what it was, though. She heard Spoiled’s shrill voice, but not what she’d said. Her head was aching, her chest felt like it was hosting a monarch butterfly migration, and she had to conscientiously calm her breathing as another panic attack swept over her.  To her surprise, Celestia’s ear perked in Fine’s direction. A sideways glance at Fine’s pathetic, panicking form. A tiny, sympathetic frown.  Fine had wanted to stand up and flee from the studio room entirely, but something about the ex-Princess’s expression managed to calm her enough to steady her breathing and levitate the glass of water that had been set out before her closer. She took a shaky sip, the interview room becoming a flooded, fish-eyed distortion as she viewed it through the polished glass and water.  She let Spoiled and Florina continue bickering with Celestia, and didn’t bother piping up herself. Nopony at the table needed to hear her shaky voice. “... less than two months ago!” Spoiled was in the midst of snarling--not at Celestia, but at Twilight Sparkle herself. “How, exactly, do you defend that?”  “Quite easily, were I to mention that your corporation dropped charges against me when it came out what exactly I’d found that had gotten me arrested in the first place.” Twilight gave a little shrug. “It’s no secret to anypony listening that I’ve had a rocky relationship with you ponies. Bringing that to light proves nothing new.” “‘You ponies’, in this case referring to the entire governing body of Equestria!” Spoiled replied shortly, her voice raising once again to an infernal shrill. Fine winced, fidgeting in her seat.  It wouldn’t be rude if she excused herself, right? She glanced at a pocket watch stuffed into her purse. They’d been at it for forty minutes. They had twenty more on their docket. A gods damned eternity, if it was twenty more minutes of listening to Spoiled and suffering under the kindhearted gaze of Princess Celestia.  Breathe in, breathe out. Like her therapist had told her.  “...apologies if you see it that way, Miss Spoiled Rich. It was not my intention.” Celestia, this time. Said after a careful pause and a thoughtful glance at Twilight Sparkle.  “...plans for moving forward, in your self described ideal word…”  “...a clear difference between what we can reasonably do at this time, and what entirely is fair to work towards doing….”  Fine’s glass of water had already been decimated. She’d taken to nursing it thoughtfully and taking long sips to distract herself. Breathing exercises had helped, but the one thing that she’d needed--distance from a stressful environment--wasn’t a luxury she’d been granted. It wasn’t a luxury she’d been granted for six bloody months, and it seemed likely to get worse without any clear sign of ever getting better again. Like before, Spoiled ended up cutting it off fifteen minutes before their timeslot ended. When she did, her normally pink coat had flushed red around her snout, undoubtedly a side effect of the shrill and annoyed tone Celestia had goaded out of her.  The interview was disastrous for the three of them, but Fine had seen that coming. Spoiled had yelled and berated Fine the entire elevator ride up to the Air Taxi Terminal simply for the purpose of stress-relief, but Fine had seen that coming, too. She winced, the mare’s shrill voice a sledgehammer to the tempest in her head, tuning out the mare’s actual words as best as she could and placating her with little nods of her head. Florina had stayed mostly silent, nursing a cigarette and bidding Fine a quiet ‘good evening’, the two mares departing for their airships and leaving Fine to take the Air Taxi home.  Fine had collapsed into her husband's hooves when she’d arrived back at their New Canterlot flat. She didn’t know for certain if he’d listened to the troubled broadcast of Fine’s water-logged ship, but apparently her expression told enough even if he hadn’t.  He’d calmly led her sobbing form over to their bedroom, their foals asleep by some miracle.  “You’d better not be thinking of going in tomorrow,” he cooed softly, stroking her mane. “Take a you-day. We’ll take the foals to the park.”  “I have to go in.”  “Dear…”  “I’m going to need to go in,” Fine said, gulping and managing a little smile. “It’s going to get worse if I don’t.”  As Fine had expected, things had gotten worse even when she did show up. She showed up twenty minutes late again. Spoiled had yelled at her the entire elevator ride down, promising that there would be consequences if she was ever tardy again. Fine had been too tired to offer any manner of smarmy reply, so she’d settled on a weary apology instead. Grace had more complaints about her workload, and hadn’t bothered bringing in Fine’s latte. Fine had plastered on a tired smile and sighed out a few more apologies for her secretary--genuine, this time, but said with her head sunk in her hooves.  Thankfully, Grace seemed to have seen her boss’s nervous breakdown on the horizon, and she eventually ceased her annoyed complaints and started to make her way back to her desk, promising to go fetch Fine a cup of strong black coffee.  “Make it a pot,” Fine said, managing a little chuckle. “And Grace… can you get me the number of… of the Old Canterlot Public Library? Before you go?” “What? That condemned one on Epona’s Hooves?”  “Yes, that’s the one.”  “Why?”  “Personal call, Grace.”  “...alrighty, then.”  v "Fine Line!" Spoiled Rich snarled--the sound like a chihuahua attempting to mimic Fine's name. "You had better think on this long and hard. Because if you walk out of those doors today, you are done." Fine Line rolled her eyes. "That’s the idea, Spoiled. Look, I can recommend some ponies if you're having trouble repl--" "When I say done, I'm not just talking about your job here. You resign, and you are off the Industry’s payroll immediately." Fine Line scoffed. "I have severance pay. You can't--" "I decide what I can and cannot do the moment you resign. And I can guarantee you we are well in our right to deny you your severance. So good luck paying that New Canterlot flat of yours. Good luck getting employment in a similar field again. You walk out those doors and I will sink you, Fine Line. You've been on thin ice for months now, and I can't trust a traitor. So go back to your desk, start flying straight, and I won't have to demote you to the godsdamned mail room." Fine Line glared. "You can't extort me, Spoiled. I have lawyers. Good ones." "Who are paid by company dollars. I'm sure they'd be eager to represent a traitor." Spoiled leaned back, a smug grin plastered on the mare’s face. "I hope you like flipping hayburgers for the rest of your life, Fine Line. Cause that's where you'll be. I'll make sure of it." Fine Line bit her lip.  Then, she matched Spoiled's smug grin with a weary smile of her own. "When my foals ask me why I chose to help the ponies who tortured and slandered a war hero, and did my damndest to keep kicking her down into a hole, I don’t want to have to tell them it was just my job. Goodbye, Spoiled."