//------------------------------// // 23. Deeper Waters III - Consolidation // Story: The Ship of State // by marciko322 //------------------------------// I had to be honest: I didn’t have very high hopes for this little convention. Shuffling my feet around the collection of crates arranged haphazardly into an approximation of a conference table, inside a gloomy, mostly-empty warehouse chosen to house the meeting to determine the composition of an entire nation, did not exactly make me feel like the second coming of James Madison. Sure, I could see the benefit of doing something like this, and Construct making it more-or-less open to the public, despite what I had told her to do. A real man of the people, I was shaping up to be; I could certainly see the appeal – and the benefits – of an image like that. Letting the common pony dictate what the nation would end up looking like was certainly a breath of fresh air compared to the place most of my citizens ended up running away from, for one reason or another. Not to mention the benefits of unexpected insights from people who otherwise wouldn’t have had the chance to give them. On the other hand, though… there was probably going to be a lot of shouting involved along the way. The common pony wasn’t too likely to give half a shit about how things work so long as their families were fed and got to sleep under a roof. I was certain there were going to be a lot of different, conflicting beliefs running around between the ponies who were going to walk in here. Quite honestly, I might well not even get anything useful out of this whole shebang, and this will have been an enormous waste of at least half a day. Most likely more. I grumbled some indistinct insult under my breath, drawing bemused glances from my companions which I swiftly waved off. Construct was to my immediate left, running through some checklist or another, occasionally glancing up at the entrance or at us. On my other side was my new Interior minister, Whisker, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable to be here, her wings rustling with what I assumed to be agitation. To her other side, standing slightly behind her, were her new subordinates, Fountain Quill and Green Thumb, who were a lot more nonplussed – dare I say, even bored. Blueblood was not present, unfortunately, having fucked off to Equestria yet again, though he did at least provide a decent excuse this time. Something about trouble in the nobility, or some such. Probably for the best, anyway. Besides us, there were already a few ponies standing around the other side of the ‘table,’ apparently beginning to regret their decision to show up so early. I had tabled the convention for pretty early on in the day, so that we could have as much of an uninterrupted stretch of time in which to discuss as possible. Waking up at five in the morning, though, was still as unpleasant as it ever was. “Christ,” I grumbled again. “Please tell me someone’s going to bring refreshments in here at some point. I’d rather not be stuck in here for the whole day without even anything to eat…” “Yes, First Minister,” droned Construct. “I’ve already taken care of it.” Well that’s good then. I strode forth to unceremoniously park my arse in my seat at the head of the table, having grown tired of standing around doing bugger-all. Construct followed suit quickly, sitting down next to me; Whisker and her lot were a little more hesitant, but soon took their places to my right. Right. We’ve got a few things to get through today, I reminded myself, skimming through the list Construct had provided me for the day, on the surface in front of me. It was depressingly short, for how much time I was sure it was going to take us to decide on. We were here to finally define the Free State properly. On our terms, I meant – I was still First Minister really only by the grace of Mummy Dearest, with the file of documents to prove it. Honestly, I was quite surprised my people accepted that as the basis of my authority, considering their opinion on Equestria, although admittedly I had done a little bit of work as First Minister that they seemed to appreciate. So to speak. An actual, formal constitution – agreed to by a good chunk of the country itself, thank you kindly, Construct – was going to be a big step to… stepping out of the shadow of Celestia, I supposed. It was going to be a symbol to rally around, too, helping to coalesce some kind of national identity together, separate from Equestria. That was going to be absolutely crucial in the long run, and no mistake. And, importantly, it would give me some actual, honest-to-goodness legitimacy, which would help with solidifying my position as First Minister. ...Oh Christ, I really have turned into a politician, I grumbled to myself. I ought to have reminded myself every now and then that I was actually doing all of this for a reason, and not just for the sake of it. In the end, this was going to end up helping people. In a round-about way, sure, but it still counted. So, there was that as well. Poor form to forget about that. I looked up from my checklist and glanced around the room. It was still very sparsely populated; me and my group sat at the head of the table, and smatterings of one or two ponies around the rest of it. A few chose to forego seating and merely stood around, now looking terminally impatient. “You know, Second Minister,” I began suddenly, drawing the attention of my whole entourage. “I’m really beginning to regret showing up so early. Why did I agree to this, again?” “You were the one who was so insistent that this needed to take place, First Minister,” said Construct, not bothering to look up from her own notes. “Isn’t it supposed to be one of your duties to stop me from being an idiot?” I asked, rhetorically. “I could have shown up only twenty minutes early and gotten an extra two hours of sleep.” “Very responsible of you, First Minister,” came the reply. “As far as I see it, I have already done so.” “Urgh,” I groaned, defeated. Turning my head to the other side revealed the bewildered faces of the remainder of my subordinates. “Once I start paying you, whoever knocks Construct upside the head for making me wake up early gets a raise.” Something approaching a snort of amusement snuck out of my Second Minister, which made me smirk in turn. “Should… I write that down?” asked Whisker. “No,” I said, suppressing a roll of my eyes. “Just a joke.” “Oh… sorry.” “Nothing to apologise for,” I waved off. “I realise you’d not quite be used to working with me just yet, and that you don’t know me very well – personally or professionally. But anyway… since I have you here, and we’re still a ways off before I need to begin… Secretary Fountain Quill.” The unicorn jumped slightly at the mention of his name. “Ah, yes, First Minister?” “Could I entrust you to handle the minutes of this event?” “…Minutes?” I stared, unimpressed. Apparently the pony with an image of a parchment and quill stamped on his arse didn’t know what minutes were – something I had to correct swiftly. “A record of proceedings,” I soon explained. “Essentially, you record what happens in shorthand – things like major decisions made and agreed on, topics brought up for discussion, things like that – and you write the minutes off that for archival, or later distribution if someone wasn’t present. Pretty important for groups like us, doing things like this, to keep minutes.” “First Minister,” interrupted Construct, drawing my attention to her. “I can handle that duty if necessary.” I lowered my voice somewhat, leaning in a little closer to make sure only she could hear what I had to say. “I know you could, Second Minister, but… I’ve got suspicions that my subordinates aren’t exactly the most experienced in their new positions-” “And you are?” asked Construct, similarly quietly. “Couple more months than they are, yes,” I rebutted. “What I mean is, I’d like to give at least some of them some hands-on – hooves-on, whatever – experience in government. Before shit gets serious enough that consequences for fucking it up become… severe. It might not be much, but it’d be better than nothing.” “…I see,” said Construct. “Although in that case, I’d worry that you wouldn’t be doing enough to ensure their competence.” “You don’t have to worry on that front,” I said, back to my normal volume. “We’re all going be working together an awful lot over the next few months and years. They’ll have plenty of opportunities to learn from me, and on the job. So, Secretary Quill,” I refocused to the unicorn, who seemed rather disconcerted at what he had heard so far. “Can I trust you to take down the minutes?” “…Er, yes, First Minister, I can. I mean, you can. I-I won’t let you down!” Quill punctuated his statement with nodding that made me worry about whiplash on his behalf. “Easy there, kid,” I chuckled. “I won’t bite your head off. Just do your best.” My words seemed to help, maybe, with Quill settling down into his seat with something that might well have been relief, proceeding to make a frankly frightening amount of loose sheets whirl around his horn, one of his namesakes floating in from the side. I shook my head to break myself out of staring at the spectacle. Throwing a glance at the other two of my new underlings showed me I had a little bit more to say before we’d all be fine. “Minister Whisker?” I prompted the pegasus, who had all but started trembling in her seat. Huge shaking eyes flitted over to me. “There’s no need to stress out,” I consoled. “I don’t expect you to be thrown into the deep end today. Really, one of the main reasons I invited you here today was so that you could see me in action as First Minister. You know, performing official government duties – some of which will eventually become yours. Just to familiarise yourself with the kind of work you’ll be doing, yeah?” Whisker let a huge breath leave her, though the trembling still remained. “Y-yes, First Minister,” she managed. Oh dear. “Just sit and watch,” I told her, returning to my notes. “If nothing else. Though if you do have any suggestions, please do speak up.” I didn’t catch whatever reply she might have given me. I was a little more busy with the latest set of revelations I’d just been given. To speak the truth, I’d just fed Minister Whisker a load of horsecrap. It wasn’t about teaching her how to sit in a room and talk to a crowd; it was about meeting my new cabinet members in person for the first time, which was already going about as well as could be expected. Apparently, I cut an intimidating figure – though of course I’d already known that, what with the whole thing with ponies only coming up to just above my stomach. That, together with the nerves that had to come with being hand-picked by Construct and I to take massively important and demanding positions – well, eventually important and demanding positions – had to be more than a little nerve-wracking. Particularly with their first official business involving a public appearance. The thought made me frown. The consequences of that being, Inns…? Sure, that was going to tell ponies I was… grabbing myself some counsel, I guessed? The big one, of course, was more obvious – my ministers were probably going to be hounded in the streets by ponies looking to whisper into my own ear – or, if we were unlucky, something much less useful. Not to mention them being… less-than-special, so to speak, was going to open the floodgates to every Tom, Dick and Harry asking for a spot up there with me. I made sure to jot that down somewhere. Most likely that was going to be handed off to Construct, if it ever became a pressing concern. Although, I supposed, since we were practically picking cabinet members off the streets anyway… Whatever. I shook the thought away, for later. Speaking of cabinet members… I had to pencil in a time to acquaint my employees as to what they would actually be doing in their roles. An orientation, of sorts. Ideally I’d have liked to do that with a fully-armed and operational battle cabinet, but in practice I suspected it’d be a little while before I had any need for, say, a Secretary for Foreign Intelligence, or anything like that. Most likely I was going to introduce them one-on-one, or three-on-one in the case of what I had currently. I made sure to note that down as well – orientate new cabinet members as they come before official business begins. Heh, I chuckled inwardly. Nothing like an exception that proves the rule, huh? “First Minister?” Construct’s voice broke me out of my trance. I rubbed at my eyes and turned to face her. “Yes?” “Fifteen minutes,” she told me, nodding pointedly at the other side of the table. I looked. While I was distracted, the room had filled up almost to bursting. The table was already fully occupied, with a sea of ponies stood beyond those lucky few who arrived early to grab an actual chair. The warehouse was deceptively small, but still I had to count at least two hundred in just my line-of-sight. Quadrupeds could pack in surprisingly tightly, I reckoned. “Oh, right,” I muttered. “Christ, time flies when you’re doing other things, huh.” And it certainly had. A full forty-five minutes had not quite elapsed yet, but it was a close thing. I re-busied myself with checking over my notes for the convention that was about to start one last time, even though I didn’t really need to since I’d be looking over it regardless. Paid to double-check, in any case. “Good morning, ladies and, er, gentlestallions,” I began with just a touch of awkwardness. As I stood up, the room silenced at once, as if someone had turned the volume down; all eyes were on me. I swallowed a lump in my throat before continuing. “I… suppose I should say a few words before we start.” That, of course, ended up being quite the wrong thing to say – not because of any impatience in the crowd, or because I’d rubbed some of them the wrong way by saying that, but because I found I couldn’t actually think of anything. All my notes were about the pertinent issues, as were all of my subordinates’. I hadn’t thought to pencil a speech about how great the Free State was to live in and how fantastic (quote-unquote) of a job I’d done making it so. Although, that might not be such a bad idea… What with me being a politician, I supposed I could just pull some platitudes out of my arse before moving on to the real business of the hour. I did, after all, apparently have some skill in improvisation; a short little speech to psyche the crowd up like I was a rockstar on stage couldn’t have hurt, right? “First of all,” I began, cutting through the now-somewhat-awkward silence effortlessly. “I would just like to thank you all for making the effort to be present today. That so many of you are invested in the direction of the Free State, and are willing to step up and make yourselves and your opinions be heard, gladdens me like little else.” I suppressed a grimace at how similar I was starting to sound to Celestia, and continued. “No successful nation can afford to neglect its people, after all, neither in terms of livelihood, or freedom, or justice, or anything else. That is why I have invited you all here today.” Hey, a little white lie never hurt anyone. I snuck a short glance over to Construct, who fortunately didn’t seem too put-off by me totally stealing all her credit, and made a mental note to pay her back at some point, somehow. “Though the Free State may certainly be an entity to be reckoned with, and though I may have taken the lead in its creation and development, the fact remains that the State remains young – malleable. We have before us a unique opportunity, one perhaps not seen in a millennium. One that will lay the framework for future generations within the Free State to live free and prosper. We have the opportunity… to decide our future.” Seemingly every face in the room was on me, hanging on my every word. I cleared my throat, not entirely nervously. “The Free State as it is now, is little more than a provisional dictatorship,” I said. “I have little desire to rule as an autocrat, nor will I be able to lead forever – I am mortal, after all, and I am not infallible. The power of a nation is always vested in its people, and the Free State is no exception. So shall you, the people of this Free State, decide its future.” Hmm. Decent enough speech, I suppose. A round of polite hoof-clapping ensued, a few ponies giving each other nods of approval. I paid less heed to my ministers, concerned as I was with the unwashed masses. I glanced down at my checklist. “The nature of the Free State,” I read off, quietly. “Hmm. That sounds a little bit stupid, actually.” “You’re the pony that wrote it,” said Construct. An excellent point, I had to concede – though of course not verbally. “Not a pony,” I reminded her absently. And it was, of course, an excellent point. Despite all my efforts so far, I was still not terribly experienced myself. How would one go about crowd-sourcing a founding document? Even better, I couldn’t even figure out how I would go and tell them that. ‘Hey, could I ask all two hundred of you to agree on a form of government for me’ sounded… mind-bogglingly idiotic, but I really couldn’t think of anything better. Certainly, I could merely have turned this into a PSA, and just told my citizens how they’d be ruled, whether by autocracy or democracy, but… that smacked just a tiny little bit of despotism, and I had little interest in ruling by diktat. This was going to impact the lives of over a thousand people – more, later, if it got that far. This was not a game. They had a say in matters, for fuck’s sake – how much of that had they gotten back in Equestria? But. Wasn’t that the entire point of a democracy, that the common citizen could have a say in how their country was run? I could admit my political loyalties were a little bit too all-over-the-place to call myself a real republican, but… it would certainly have been a good starting point, if nothing else. To my knowledge, democracies were exceedingly rare in Equus, confined mostly to the Griffonian splinter nations – which weren’t exactly a shining endorsement to the average pony. Though, compared to Equestria… I shook my head and refocused. The crowd was starting to get a little restless under my clueless stare. “That is why,” I said, hiding my ad-libbing as best I could, “my intention for the Free State is to transform it from a functional warlord state, to a full, free and fair parliamentary republic, where the voice of each citizen can be heard, where the leadership is held accountable for its missteps, and where liberty and freedom for all is enshrined in the very foundations of the nation.” It was alright, as far as mission statements went, even if it left a bittersweet aftertaste in my mouth. I ignored Construct’s head whipping around out of the corner of my eye, and focused on the crowd’s reaction. “Many of you – hell, most of you – are here because, for whatever reasons, you could no longer stand the conditions in Equestria; whether political, social, or economic. Do not fear; I have no intention of forsaking my efforts to bring the people prosperity, or security. Your livelihoods will come first. After that, however… I will make sure the Free State is a nation worth that livelihood.” I chanced a short look around the room, gauging the reaction. A few ponies, mostly near the back, looked like they were swallowing lemons – must have been some revolutionary nutters, perhaps. Quite a few looked much more at ease with my agenda. The rest were… really rather frighteningly indifferent. With any luck that was due to my own deficiencies in oration, rather than their deficiencies in giving a fuck about anything. It wasn’t really my intention to devolve this gathering into a rhetoric-spewing session, but… if it could convert some of these seemingly-uncaring folks into my loyalists? I refocused. The notes in my hand I put back down onto the table – for what I was about to say, they were neither needed, nor useful. “The transition process will be split into three phases. The first phase is what we are in now – a provisional government, with me at its head, charged with developing the nation, its institutions and traditions; from the top down, across the entirety of the Free State. The second phase will entail the creation of local, devolved ruling authorities; city councils, communes, administrative zones, whatever the case may be, on a case-by-case basis. They, in turn, will form a national authority, which representatives from those local bodies will be admitted to, which will eventually be responsible for the legislative process. The third and final phase will entail completing the democratisation process – local elections will fill the positions of the local councils, which will in turn fill the national assembly; finally, a national election will then fill the position of First Minister itself, directly.” ...Hmm. I’ve never had to describe the process of democratisation to a room full of former imperial subjects before. I swallowed, feeling unaccountably like I was talking out of my arse (which, in all honesty, I absolutely was), and kept going. “Of course, the details of this process will be confirmed at a later date -” an oblique way of saying I didn’t have a fucking clue what those details were supposed to actually be “- as and when their implementation becomes necessary. “Now,” I said, glancing down at the sheet on the table for my next topic. “Of course, all the democratic electioneering in the world won’t do the common pony any good if they do not have the freedom to vote for who they like, or speak out against who they dislike, or what have you. Equestria may claim to be a bastion of harmony and friendship – indeed, perhaps even its cradle – but what good does that do their downtrodden? Their oppressed, disenfranchised, poor and hungry? When the glare of the sun and its alicorn blinds its sight to their plight?” Construct was kind enough to elbow me in the side, stopping my rather pointless – not to mention combative – waffling in my tracks. “Not here, I say! I promised you homes and livelihoods, and that is what I will give you. No citizen of the Free State will be left without a shelter, no citizen of the Free State will be left without three meals a day, no citizen of the Free State will be left without means of contributing to their society and community! Whether by compassion of their fellow neighbours, friends, countrymen, or by the efforts of the state itself, no-one will be left behind.” The crowd seemed to me to be getting somewhat more restless. I realised, perhaps a little belatedly, that they’d already heard a version of that very same sales pitch before. At least twice, in fact. Though at least this time they had the comfort of knowing (that is to say, being promised) that this rhetoric was going to enter official government policy. I nodded, mostly to myself, and moved on once more. “Just as those promises shall be enshrined within the very foundations of this state, so too shall your freedoms be so. Freedom of speech, freedom of press, freedom of association, all the basic liberties a sapient being ought to be afforded as part of a nation’s fundamental obligation to look after its citizens. I’ll spare you all the long-winded speech, for once -” some scattered polite chuckles following the sentence “- but I can assure you all here, today, that the Free State shall be a beacon of hope and freedom, now and forever.” This time around, the hoof-clapping was more vigorous. Approving glances and smiles of satisfaction all around, particularly from those I’d picked up on earlier who’d been more enthusiastic than most at my agenda – the democrats, as I’d tentatively labelled them. Probably some of those devolutionaries I’d heard so much about; most likely the hardliners and radicals, given that they didn’t see sufficient reason to choose Equestria over the Free State, for whatever reason. I was pretty sure I was going to find myself a decent support base from them – assuming they weren’t economic liberals as well as social ones, anyway. I shook my head, ridding myself of the tangent. All things considered, that had gone… adequately. Perhaps a little long-winded, but in fairness, I was a politician now. If I didn’t love the sound of my own voice (which, truth be told, I did not in fact care for much), I’d better have learned quickly. “Shall we move on now, First Minister?” The reminder came from Construct, as ever, prompting me to pick my notes back up, skimming them once more. I nodded at her gratefully, and started again. “Now,” I called, silencing the peanut gallery at once. “The next point on the agenda…” … Five hours, one lunch break and about a litre of coffee later, I had just about hashed out everything I’d needed to. From overall structure, ideology, goals, to make-up, electoral and judicial, to much less important (or rather, pressing) things like cultural norms and iconography. Since hey – if I was going to do this, I might as well have done it all in one go. Just in case. Even if all I really had to say on the matter was ‘work in progress’ – which it literally was, for some of those topics. I was rubbing at my throat something fierce, hoping and praying I wouldn’t lose my voice before the end of the whole shebang, and let out a mighty breath of relief at having reached my final bullet point – taking questions from the general public, a noticeable portion of which had left the building already, having realised that they didn’t actually care as much as they thought they did, or at least not enough to stand in one place for most of the day. Someone was bound to circulate the contents of the convention, anyway. Most likely us. I probably shouldn’t have let them leave, but… whatever. “…Thank you all for your attendance, everypony,” Construct was saying to those still here, having taken over what she could so that I could catch a break and drink some water to stave off both my sore throat and the first forming specks of a slight-yet-insistent headache. “Though there still remains one last item on our agenda, as of now this convention is officially concluded. If you do not wish to remain to ask any questions you may have, then you are free to go.” Surprisingly few ponies decided to take the opportunity, in fact – a few stragglers near the back of the crowd discreetly slipped away, quite a few of which I noticed had wings, and a smattering throughout the main body. Every other person stood practically stock-still, starting up a quiet, yet excited muttering amongst themselves, no doubt eager to prattle off whatever nonsense they had in their minds. I was already bracing myself for pointed questions about Equestria. “Ready, First Minister?” asked Construct, throwing me a faintly concerned look as I set my mug down. I waved her concerns off. “Yes, Second Minister, I am,” I replied, sounding like someone’d thrown a cup of gravel into a running washing machine, and cleared my throat. “I’m sure you people can still understand me, at least.” Construct decided not to humour me, and instead returned her focus to the crowd. “Anypony who has a query, or anything else of relevance to add, you may raise your hooves.” There were a great many hooves raised. I suppressed a sigh, realising I wasn’t going to be done talking for a little while longer; Construct shot me a piteous glance as she gestured at me quizzically. I waved her off and stood back up, taking a moment to brush some non-existent dust off my shoulder, before picking an upraised hoof at random. The pony in question took a few steps forward, nodding at me gratefully, the crowd parting before her obligingly. “First Minister,” she said. “What will happen to our current system of food distribution? Is rationing going to end soon?” I raised my eyebrows slightly – in fairness, I should probably have expected food security to be pretty high up on people’s lists, considering. “Unfortunately, no,” I replied quickly. “With how rapidly the Free State has grown, and continues to grow, our food security is still precarious. Until I can guarantee that we are able to produce enough to feed us even should disaster strike, our current rationing policies will remain in effect.” “And will you continue to implement them as you are currently?” she followed up. That made me frown more noticeably. It was a good point – right now, at least one of Construct, me, Blueblood, and now Whisker needed to be supervising our distribution efforts. A decent system for five, six, seven hundred ponies, twice a day – but the strain on a thousand and four hundred-ish was starting to show. If we kept growing, our single building dedicated to feeding the masses would soon be overwhelmed, or at least kept working around the clock feeding ponies in shifts. “For the foreseeable future, yes,” I finally decided. “We will of course take all necessary steps to ensure that distribution remains as efficient and effective as possible, should need arise to change our current methods.” A few feathers were ruffled, I saw – of course, no-one likes to be told ‘no, you can’t have what you want,’ but the pony who asked the question seemed satisfied enough, retreating back from the spotlight. With any luck, that’d be the end of that particular point of contention until things finally started to get better – although I wasn’t going to hold my breath. At Construct’s call, hooves were raised again – this time, noticeably less than before; seemed like a few folk only cared about full stomachs, which was… adequate. I supposed. Another pony stepped forth at my beckon. “First Minister,” came the by-now standard introduction. “You’ve spoken before of citizens and residents of the Free State; my question is, which of the two are we now, and what is the difference?” “Ah, yes,” I said, nodding along. “My apologies for the confusion, allow me to clarify. At present, you all are residents of the Free State; that is, residing within it. As such, you are all afforded the basic protections given to any sapient being – or rather, that should be given to sapient beings – access to shelter, food, employment, and the like. Since the Free State is so young, and its institutions not yet matured, the benefits of full-on citizenship – voting rights, right to counsel in foreign nations, civil and military service, and so on – are not really applicable as of yet.” “Will we be given citizenship at any point?” was the follow-up. “Yes,” I confirmed. “Once an official government structure is finalised, and a constitution is enshrined, any residents of the Free State, barring exceptional cases, will automatically be given citizenship through a census. However, after that point, any applicable immigration and citizenship laws and processes will need to be followed to obtain citizenship.” With a nod, the pony stepped back as well. A short pause let me drink some water to wet my throat, before someone decided to muscle through the crowd, drawing squawks of alarm and anger. Construct and Fountain Quill made to stand up, but I waved them both off, gesturing somewhat needlessly at the pegasus stallion that had rather impolitely made himself known. “What do you intend to do with Equestria, First Minister?” said the stallion, rather gruffly, and not a bit angrily. Well, there it is. At the question, I could see the crowd behind him cool, some nodding their heads along and looking challengingly at me. A dull murmur ran through the whole room that I was forced to speak over. “That’s a little open-ended to answer completely, sir,” I started – to which he cut me off, growing increasingly irritated. “It’s no secret you’re close with the Princess,” he all but spat. “I’ve been burned enough by Equestria’s most loyal servants! Will you allow the Diarchy to dictate your internal policy? Decide who is allowed to live here? Work? How much we are owed in tithe? And to whom? Repatriate-” “Most assuredly not.” I cut his increasingly-incensed accusations short, conveniently quieting the rest of the room along with him. My own temper flared briefly, but I reigned it in, showing only enough to accentuate my own point rather than losing control myself. “The Free State plays second-fiddle to no-one. We are in control of our own destiny, and no-one else. It’s true that I am acquainted with her Highness, but make no mistake – if she comes to me to dictate terms, I will gladly tell her precisely where to stick them. I am responsible for you, not her subjects.” “…Good,” was all the pegasus could muster, nodding at me with rather quickly-newfound respect, stepping back into the crowd almost sheepishly. I let the crowd simmer for a little bit more, taking another drink to try to return to my baseline. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Construct giving me an approving nod, which I returned. Glancing around, I saw… a concerningly large amount of equally-approving faces looking at me. Apparently, independence was rather a hotter topic than I’d even initially assumed. That, or it was just generally a crowd-pleaser… more likely both, as it happened. I shook myself out of it, and continued. Another pony stepped up, looking up at me almost shyly. “First Minister, what… you said earlier something about military service? What, exactly, will that entail? Who will protect us if… something should happen?” I nodded pensively as she finished. Guess we aren’t stepping out of anti-Equestrian paranoia any time soon. Fucking hell… “An excellent question,” I said. “The truth is, the Free State as it is now cannot really afford, nor sustain, any sort of real standing armed forces, and likely will not for a considerable time.” I nodded, more to myself than anything, ideas that were already mulling around in my mind only being reinforced as I thought about it. “Most likely, the case will be that you, yourselves, will end up responsible for your own defense, should the worst occur.” Of course, I was not stupid enough to miss what she, and most likely much of the rest of the Free State, thought that worst-case scenario was – an Equestrian invasion. Truth be told, I was not terribly concerned by that; certainly not presently, what with exactly I was actually doing here, but my job was such that I couldn’t dismiss the possibility. After all, either Celestia, or I, or either of our subjects’ populations, or some third party, could all spontaneously go insane or something. …Goddamn thestrals. I very nearly failed to suppress a growl. Well, guess that settles our foreign policy. “I have no interest in foreign adventurism,” I declared. “Home defense will be sufficient; the Free State will grow strong on its own, standing on the shoulders of no other – and yet surpassing them all still. Your homes, your livelihoods, your families, that is what you will be fighting for in case of attack – organised or not.” I gave the crowd a slightly pointed look. “If you cannot even bother to rise to the defense of your own friends, family or possessions, or yourselves, then… well.” I didn’t bother to finish. Ponies understood me well enough – the surface meaning, at least. With any luck, at least Construct would pick up on the implication that without a military prepared to fight abroad, there was very little need for an internationalist foreign policy – and thus the Free State would comfortably slip into isolationism, working on its own domestic issues. A Home Guard, militia-style of defense would suit my purposes just fine – and would have the added benefit of being considerably cheaper than instituting a formal draft, or an actual professional standing army, neither of which we really needed, strictly speaking. Construct had taken my thoughtful silence as conclusion, and waved the pony away; another swiftly replaced them. “First Minister, what of those of us who wish to… live elsewhere? Within the Free State, I mean, as homesteaders?” That question, I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to hear. I took a precious few seconds to consider the question, frowning thoughtfully. “Well… that is an excellent question. As it stands, the Free State is essentially empty. Though mostly forested. I certainly will not stop you from leaving our settlement, if that is what you desire, though it may make things more… ah, administratively difficult.” And didn’t that sound like a euphemism and a half. “If you are able to travel to whatever chunk of land you wish to claim, and you can do something with it, and survive on it… then I see no reason why you cannot have that land.” The petitioner nodded gratefully, a wide smile on his muzzle. I pre-empted him opening his mouth again with a raised hand. “If you’d like to discuss this further, please take it up with my Second Minister afterwards.” I gestured to my side to Construct. He dutifully clacked his mouth closed again, and melted back into the crowd. Huh. Guess we really are Manifest-Destiny-era America now, aren’t we? I rolled my eyes to myself. Fuckin’ culture osmosis. Another question came. Seemed like this Q&A session wasn’t going to end any time soon. “First Minister, when will we start being paid for our work? And with what?” I blinked. Another question I probably should have anticipated but didn’t. Construct threw me a questioning look, as if to say ‘should I?’ I shook my head, though, turning back to face the pony who had posed the question. “Unfortunately, monetary policy has been pretty low on my list of priorities,” I told her. “For now, you will all continue to be paid as you are – with food and housing. Eventually that will turn into actual, legal tender, yes, but at the moment I simply cannot give you anything more.” “Do you plan on accepting Equestrian bits?” she asked. “…Most likely,” I said, after a short deliberation. “Currency is currency, and Equestria is the foremost power on the continent – not to mention our only neighbour. The Free State will have its own primary currency, but yes, we will accept Equestrian money too.” Note to self, find someone who knows the first thing about economics, stat. Yet another pony stepped up to take the former’s place, and I just about managed to not slam my head onto the table. Christ on a bike, how many of these fuckers are there?! “First Minister,” began the pony – a darkly-coloured pegasus mare I was sure I’d seen somewhere else before, but couldn’t place at all – with a surprisingly cordial undertone. Perhaps I hadn’t suppressed my exasperation as well as I had hoped. “You spoke earlier of rights afforded to sapient beings. Could you elaborate on exactly what those are, and to whom they apply?” “Of course,” I said. “When I say basic protections, I mean it – food, shelter, employment; protection from discrimination, bondage, or persecution; the right to free speech, to assembly, to association, to legal representation… all of it. And when I say all sapient beings, I mean it – ponies, griffons, minotaurs, zebras, humans… all of them.” …Chuckling was not what I expected to hear following that. My expression darkened, as I scanned the crowd, looking for the joker, even as it was made painfully clear that more than just a few of the attendees found the concept laughable. “Is there something the matter with a statement like that?” I asked the crowd, which at least had the good sense to quiet down. I looked down at the pegasus at the other end of the table, who, yes, was also suppressing laughter. “All of them?” she asked, the mirth evident on her voice – but, strangely, just forced enough to be noticeable. “Even cows and sheep? What rights do they need?” Once again, I was brought up short. “I’m sorry? Cows and sheep?” “Yeah,” came the reply, from somewhere deep in the crowd rather than the pegasus. “Y’know… livestock!” This time, chuckles rippled out audibly across the room, although now I was confused rather than angry. Livestock? Why do ponies think sapient rights apply… to… I looked down at the pegasus very carefully. “Cows and sheep are sapient creatures?” “…Yes, First Minister,” was the obvious – and still tinged with not-entirely-real sarcasm – reply. And wasn’t that a nasty little surprise to my brain-pan. I lowered my head, trying to wrangle my facial expression away from its instinctive and ingrained outrage and onto something more sensible. So cows and sheep are sapient here… suppose that explains those looks I kept getting at the palace. And yet they’re still called livestock? Are they treated that way, too? When that thought crossed my mind, I just about started shouting. I looked back up at the pegasus, paying little heed to how her own expression contorted into something decidedly less readable – or maybe that was just my own anger clouding my senses – and continued. “Then why do you call them livestock?” “Because that’s what Equestria considers them,” Secretary Green Thumb broke in, turning my attention to her, carefully neutral. “They act the part, for one thing, First Minister. We ke- sorry, Equestria keeps them in pens on farmsteads. They graze on grass, except when we feed them other stock during winter or special occasions. And we harvest their milk and wool in exchange.” In exchange?! That, apparently, was enough for me. I took a deep breath that was not as calming as I needed it to be, and turned back to the pegasus on the other end of the table. I fought very hard to keep my voice even. “Well, to answer your question,” I began, and at once the room silenced from the chuckling and murmurs I’d had to tune out; the mare locked eyes on me with a steely, evaluating gaze. “Yes, all of them. Even cows and sheep.” This time, the derisive scoffs that followed did not go ignored. “Because to keep sapient beings in bondage is a travesty, ladies and gentlemen! I do not know how you could possibly have justified such an act while you were present in Equestria, where such a perversion of morality can be acceptable to take place, but no, no, no! There will be no such thing in the Free State for as long as I dare draw breath! To keep a living, thinking, feeling being captive in bondage merely because it is useful to do so, or that it is ordained, or that that’s how it has always been, is an atrocity, nothing more and nothing less! Whether it be by shackles or by fenceposts, I say no more! And if any of you have a problem with this notion, then I gladly invite you to return to whatever slave state you have apparently crawled out of and try out your own livestock regimen on yourselves!” The room sat silent in the wake of my sudden incendiary rhetoric. I stared down as many ponies in the room as I could; each and every single one of them averted their eyes the second they realised I was looking at them… except for the pegasus that had asked in the first place, some unknowable emotion flitting across the shine of her eyes. She nodded wordlessly, and moved to rejoin the crowd behind her. I eyed my colleagues briefly. Construct was looking at me coolly, as professional as ever, only nodding at me to let me know she was ready for anything more I might have asked of her. Whisker and her lot… were not so discreet, staring at me with eyes wide and mouths only closed by virtue of not wanting to look ridiculous in front of the public. Civil rights for livestock was not a battle I thought I was ever going to pick up in my life – and here I stood now, in a room you could have heard a pin drop in, having done exactly that, on the record and in front of a considerable fraction of the country. At least there were worse things to take a stand on as a politician, I supposed. I took a breath, letting the last traces of my indignation leave me along with it, and gestured for one final pony with upraised hoof to take their place. “…First Minister,” he began, somewhat nervously. “Do… do we have a name for this settlement yet?” The non-sequitur left me rather nonplussed. “A name?” In doubt, I looked to Construct, who shook her head and shrugged. “I suppose we don’t, no,” I admitted sheepishly. Somehow, that had never entered my mind throughout all this time. A consequence of still thinking of this as my little corner of the woods, somewhere deep down at least, rather than the de-facto capital of the Free State. “…Any suggestions?” I tried. Predictably, though, after my rather explosive invective, not many were willing to speak up. A few mumbled names were thrown at me from afar, none of which I could decipher. I shook my head and sighed – yet again, it seemed like the responsibility came down onto me. What to name our… our capital, I suppose, isn’t it? I retreated inward, my head bowing in thought, as I considered, wracking my brain for anything decent I could use. We’ll have to use a theme, won’t we? Or at least make it sound like it’s all from the same language… English – or Ponish or whatever – maybe leave off the pony puns, though? Rather Equestrian, after all… Fuck it. If in doubt… “…What about Bastion?” I finally said. It was a decent enough name, I thought. Fit nicely with the theme of freedom, short and snappy, didn’t sound too ridiculous at first glance – bit of a misnomer, though, since this certainly was not a terribly defensible location, but since that didn’t matter a rat’s arse I figured it didn’t count. I could always say it was metaphorical, anyway. My subordinates were nodding along with me and each other, tentatively, which was a good start. The crowd, too, didn’t seem too put out by my choice; most were indifferent, some were nodding, some were wincing. I figured that was good enough, and opened my mouth to make it so - “What about Buckstion?” called a voice from somewhere near the back. I sighed heavily, sat down – and smashed my forehead right onto the surface of the crate in defeat. Construct and Whisker, the two sat closest to me, jumped up in alarm, then concern, as I turned my head to stare the former in the eye. “Fuckin’ ponies, man…” I grumbled by way of explanation. “Just go with Bastion, Second Minister.” I’d asked my cabinet to stay for a little longer after Construct had finally formally concluded the convention, and the crowd had begun to disperse. Nothing major was on the cards, to my knowledge, unless my head-desk had given them concerns about brain damage – or, indeed, unless anything else I’d fed the peanut gallery had done so. I watched the ponies shuffle out somewhat tiredly, feeling rather worn out myself; my throat in particular was complaining something fierce, as it had been for the past two and a half hours. The papers in front of me I’d handed off to Construct to do with as she pleased – that being immediately handing them over to Fountain Quill to assist with the work I’d tasked him previously. As the room emptied, I stood back up, popping my back with all the tension that had snuck into it from the day so far – Gordon Bennett, I’ve spent most of the day on this bollocks – and glanced tiredly at my fellow ponies. “Right,” I began, not wanting to waste any time. “That’s all for now, then, folks. Secretary Quill, you have the minutes; please make two sets, one for our own bookkeeping and one to distribute around to the general public. “…Right, First Minister,” came the slightly nervous reply. “The first will be more comprehensive, and the second more easily digestible by the common pony?” I nodded in approval, not missing the delighted satisfaction on his muzzle as he flitted papers about in front of him and got to work at once. “We will schedule a meeting as to how to go about actually implementing these things at a later date,” I said, glancing between the four ponies in front of me. “Secretary Green Thumb, I’d like you to gather as much information about the state of our agricultural activity as possible. Have a report and any recommendations, if applicable, ready in… two weeks’ time? That’d be the first of December, yes?” I looked to Construct, who nodded in confirmation. “Right. First of December, then, we’ll convene properly.” I nodded decisively, not leaving it up to discussion. “Secretary Quill…” I paused, then grimaced – Immigration & Citizenship would be tough to settle while Blueblood was MIA, not to mention not nearly as important as some of the things we needed to settle. I waved his inquisitive glance away. “Never mind,” I said. “Just be there, Secretary. And Minister Whisker… work with the Second Minister for now,” I decided. “She already does much of what your responsibilities will end up… ah, subsuming, let’s say, not quite ‘being’ per se. She’ll show you the ropes, I’m sure.” Construct nodded idly as Whisker trotted over to stand next to her. Decent enough plan, I gathered – Construct already did do much of the work an Interior Minister would have had under their purview, only possible by virtue of fact the actual ‘Second Minister’ position still did not really have any formal responsibilities attached to it, besides being the backup if my heart suddenly popped or something. Again, I considered swapping Construct and Whisker around… then decided the plan I’d already chosen would be just as good: with any luck, some of Construct’s competence would rub off on the newbie, and I’d suddenly have two decent administrators in my cabinet, with Construct freed up for other duties – probably a personal secretary, I mused. I nodded again, clapping my hands together. “Right,” I said, “I think that about covers it for now. Anything comes up, you let me know; anything you’re not sure about, you let Construct know and she’ll help you out.” I threw each of my subordinates a glance and another nod, picking up my own personal notes off the table and slipping them into a pocket. “Good luck out there.” “Until next time, First Minister,” said Construct, already leading Minister Whisker away, apparently sharing notes with each other; Green Thumb followed along, while Fountain Quill remained where he was, still engrossed with his own work. Right, I thought. Future of the Free State’s set now… better start work to make it happen. I spared one more glance at the warehouse, suppressed a snort, and set off to figure out what in the bloody hell I needed to do now.