II
Port Horizon, being the first Lunar colony, was a bustling hub of activity. While Steadfast occasionally missed the fresh air and plush clouds of his birthplace, he believed he would never call another place home but this. He never tired of the constant activity, the teeming energy, the feel of the well-worn grating under his hooves. The draft was a bit much, he would concede, but that's nothing a coat wouldn't fix; and since a coat was part of his standard uniform, that was never a problem. He trotted alongside Hair Trigger, the gray unicorn disregarding the unique scenery in exchange for putting her attentions on the blue-coated pegasus beside her.
“And just what're you looking at?”
She looked away, smirking to herself as the two rounded the corner into the entrance of the port's canteen, the Miner's Boon. “Nothing. It's just been, what, two months?”
“Four. Four months.”
She blinked, surprised. “Four? Wow. Four months, then, since we last saw each other. And you still haven't done anything with your stupid mane.”
He sighed as they approached the bar, nodding at the bartender, an aging unicorn who nodded knowingly, the nonverbal request conveying Steadfast's meaning perfectly, and he began to prepare their drinks.
“I told you,” the pegasus said, looking up toward his messy, frizzed black hair. “There's nothing I can do about it. The storms blow it around.”
“Whatever. I still think that's a pretty weakass excuse.” The bartender set their drinks before them, and Steadfast thanked him, pointedly ignoring Trigger's remark. “Anyway, since you're obviously gonna be stubborn, how've things been around here? I mean... things must be pretty hectic, right? With the... situation?”
He blinked, setting down his drink slowly. “How'd you know?”
She shrugged, smiling through her embarrassment. “Word gets back to the mainland faster than you'd think, especially in the circles I run with.” They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their drinks. The bar was unusually quiet for this time of night. Trigger spoke up again, “Is it true, though? Is the Arcanium starting to run out?”
He sighed, biting his bottom lip. “There's... nothing to substantiate it at this point. The whole thing was started from a message we got from an establishment over the Mane Range. Just some mildly startling readings, really. Unstable seismic activity and the like, and a void they hit. Probably just a misinterpretation.”
Trigger raised an eyebrow, detecting a nuance of uncertainty in his voice. “Probably. You don't buy that, do you?”
“It doesn't matter what I buy, Trigger. I just keep things running here, I'm not a colonial administrator.”
“But you do have an opinion. An opinion that colonial administration wouldn't like, I take it?”
He sighed, looking at her with exasperation. “In my personal, off-record opinion, the whole thing is just propaganda to push us into colonizing the Dark Side.”
She scoffed, turning back to her drink, swishing it thoughtfully with her magic. “Extremists have been lobbying for that since the start of the business. What makes you think one rumour's gonna change that?”
“I don't think one rumour will. But I think it's pretty suspicious how close this thing is to the gryphon's increased aggression.”
She shook her head, her ice-blue mane falling into her eyes. “You, my friend, sound like a conspiracy-obsessed colt again. Thought you got over this crap back in highschool?”
“This is different, Trigger. Serious. We're out here in uncharted waters. The last thing we need is some 'mix up' starting a war.”
The two sat in silence for a long moment. The silence had almost a forced emptiness to it, as if the two were attempting to clear something from the air. “War” was not a word that a pony tossed around lightly, for it was a dreaded word that represented everything the unified races had fought so hard to destroy forever. It was plainly obvious to everypony paying attention, however, that things seemed to have been going far too well in the past few years. Peace between the races, or so it appeared on the surface. Bountiful food supplies and thriving culture. Everypony in Equestria lived a well-rounded life, more or less, even ponies with more menial jobs such as the garbage ponies or rock farmers.
There was only one thing missing in all this; progress. Advancement. The last technological advance, in fact, had been three hundred years ago at the start of the post-Classical Era (rapidly coming to be known as the Golden Age) was the steam engine. It had changed the face of commerce forever, but some viewed it as the reason Equestrian society had tapered off into such a well-leveled society it was at the time.
But now this new frontier of lunar exploration had reared its head. A minority of speculators had been protesting it for years, now, saying that ponykind was not ready to make such leaps yet, that they were rushing into it all headfirst with no regard for political and economic ramifications. But, they were not an especially vocal minority, and were largely ignored.
But it still lingered in everypony's mind, that small inkling of fear. A fear that perhaps they were right; that progress needed to be halted or at the very least slowed, or else they may very well have a conflict on their hooves.
Steadfast cleared his throat, breaking the silence finally. “So... how are things planetside?”
Trigger raised an eyebrow, looking at him oddly. “Uh... nothing that you wouldn't have heard about on the radio...”
He chuckled in response, shaking his head. “No, I meant with you. How's your dad? Any better?”
She blushed slightly, looking into her drink. “O-oh... well, yeah. He's doing a lot better, actually. He's up and walking again, although he's still pretty weak. He's living at the shop with my sister.” She smiled up at Steadfast proudly. “There may be better magic casters, but nopony's got anything on my dad when it comes to watchmaking.”
He grinned. “Good to hear. Seems almost too good to be true.” He sipped his drink. “Few years ago everypony thought Unicorn Blight was terminal. Low chance of survival.”
“Don't remind me. He was only diagnosed the year they discovered the treatment. It took a whole month for it to get approved, and that whole time we thought dad wouldn't live to see the next year.”
“I recall. That was when you almost dropped out of Transit Commission training.”
She winched slightly. “How about we go back to politics and conspiracies? As a lighter topic change, ya know?”
He bit his lip, chuckling nervously. “Heh, yeah... probably not the best direction to turn a conversation in.” He put his hoof up to his temple, sighing exasperatedly. “I forgot, I've got the manifest to check in tonight, still. All that bucking paperwork... I wish I could do it all drunk, but it requires a certain level of clarity.” He moved away from the bar, hastily wrestling a few bits from his vest pocket and depositing them on the counter. “Sorry to cut this short...”
“No, no. It's fine, I understand.”
“Thanks, Trigger. I'll catch up with you later, yeah?”
She nodded as he moved toward the exit. “Sure thing. See ya, Steadfast.”
With that, he left the cantina, leaving Hair Trigger alone at the bar. Practically everypony else had cleared out, and it seemed to be later in the day than it felt. She remembered that the lunar clock was roughly four hours ahead of the standard Equestrian timezone; a fact that she never could get used to. She barely noticed as the bartender trotted up, noting her empty glass and asking her if she needed anything else. She smiled and declined politely.
“I should probably find my new quarters, anyway,” she explained.
“Stayin' on a little longer this time, Miss Trigger?”
She nodded. “Yep. New power units came in with the shipment. Got about a week tops while they install it. Higher-ups don't wanna make two runs, so I gotta stay while they work on it.”
“I see. Well, you need any help findin' your place, y'oughta talk to Chick.”
She frowned. “That's the security chief, right?”
“Yes indeed. Keeps to herself, but she knows her way 'round.”
“Hm. Why's she keep to herself? Shy or something?”
He chuckled. “I'm pretty sure that question'll answer itself when you meet the gal. Let's jus' say there are some who'd object to havin' one such as her on the station.”