//------------------------------//
// Peace and Harmony 
// Story: Lyra Heartstrings v. Republic of Terra 
// by PegasusKlondike 
//------------------------------//

There was nothing left for her to do. 

The sun was setting on the day before she would officially go before the Supreme Court of the Republic of Terra and officially shame herself and her entire species by withdrawing her entire argument. Her closing statements were already written, sitting on the study desk next to her official apology to the human race and to the ponies of Lazarus. Her daring and defiance had given non-human creatures a toehold in what would certainly be a long and uphill journey in trying to prove their worth. Every creature had given their all in this fight; lives and livelihoods had been threatened, thousands had marked themselves as pariahs, and people that Lyra cared about had been hurt. All for nothing.

And so Lyra sat in the hallway, her cheek pressed against the cool wood of her roommate's door. Apparently he wasn't so honky-dory either, and all had been quiet after his announcement that some kind of . . . thing was lodged in his mind. She could never know what that felt like, but she knew what his emotions at that moment felt like: all the pain, being afraid of every little thing, even knowing who he had to leave behind.

The aquamarine mare let out a long sigh, closing her amber eyes and wondering what she could do now. The man behind that door had said there was still hope, that there was still some way she fight back and still win. But he had entered that room with a bottle of whiskey, and now he was as good as dead to the world. There were no words of comfort or encouragement that she could offer to one so far from the light, but she could talk to him. And right now, maybe he just needed to hear the sound of a friendly voice.

"The . . . the rain finally stopped." Her voice was low and in the most reassuring tone she had. "It was so sudden, you know? Forecast said the weather was supposed to be clear for another week." Lyra gave a single, mirthless laugh.  "I guess you can't really trust the meteorologist at all in this town." 

Not a single peep came from behind the door.

"So I heard that the park is getting a new statue. It's gonna be an angel with pegasi carved onto the pedestal," Lyra murmured through the door. "I . . . I didn't even know what an angel was. I had to look it up in one of your books. They're . . . they're really something, angels. Humans with wings, what a thought. I bet that she'll look really pretty out there with all the others. I mean, we never had many statues or monuments in Ponyville, but I guess you already know that. But back home in Canterlot . . . geez, you couldn't spit without hitting a statue of some famous person or one of the three dozen Princess Celestias." Lyra smiled slightly at the reminiscence of her hometown. "And Lazarus is gonna be a lot like Canterlot someday. Well, I hope it will be. After all, there's never a frown in Canterlot, and everypony laughs and smiles, and there's always a little magic in the air. And maybe there'll be statues everywhere in Lazarus too. Statues of President McGoff, statues for all the soldiers, maybe there'll even be one of you." The mare's eyes watered, and she sniffled. "No, I know there will be. Do you know why? Because people remember their angels. And if there's demons in this world, then there has to be angels too. There can't be hate without love; you can't just have evil. You just have to believe in them, and you have to be one of them. And you, Aaron, you're somebody's angel. All those people out there in that city," Lyra wiped the moisture from her eyes, "you're their guardian angel. We all need one, and they need you."

Lyra opened her eyes to see a spectral light hovering in the hallway. "Come, there's no breaking through the walls he has put up," the ghost said gently. 

The mare rose. "Can't you talk to him? Can't you say something?"

"What would I say that he hasn't already heard from Mother Earth?" The ghost began to drift down the hallway and towards the study. Lyra followed closely.

"He said that there was a way! He said that we can still win, and he has to know something more than he already told us!"

"Lies from the mouth of the devil himself," Clarence replied. "I was a part of Lucifer for mere moments, but long enough to know that he will lie through his teeth or anyone else's teeth just to cause the slightest amount of damage. Our best course of action is to act as though we never heard those words at all."

"Then what do we do now?"

"Nothing. We've done all we can for both you and him."

Clarence was stopped in his tracks by a yellow aura of magic. "I don't believe that for a second," said the mare, appearing in front of the ghost with a determined glare on her face. "Someone important told me you were the best that there ever was. People looked to you for answers, even long after you were dead. The Attorney for the Damned, isn't that what they called you? Well, our situation looks pretty bad, and right about now Aaron is just about the definition of damned. If you want to give up, go back to the park and find your way back to whatever afterlife you came from. I'll be in the study." She finished quietly, and she released him as she rounded the corner into the office that had become her headquarters.

Groaning at his lack of decisions, Clarence followed the determined mare. 


**********************************


"Burr vs Stark City Board of Commissioners? C'mon, that has got to be the answer!"

"Burr v. Stark City was about being misled by the adoption agency. It's after the fact and concerns suing for restitution. You have yet to adopt, so it doesn't apply."

Lyra rolled her eyes, snapping that book shut and flipping open another one. "At least it's more likely than yours," she grumbled. 

"The Indian Child Welfare Act encouraged best-course policies, and isn't that what you're after?"

"No. Because the ICWA was aimed at keeping Native American children with their families and their people. AKA, the exact opposite of what we're trying to do." Lyra leaned back in her chair, rubbing her sore head with her hooves. She was right in a way, the ICWA was aimed at keeping culturally related people together, and she was surprised that Bennett hadn't directly referenced it in court as a case that supported familial segregation by species. Well, she could always turn it around and say that humans couldn't adopt ponies through the same argument. That might stick it in their craws; though Lyra felt that not too many humans were going to line up around the block to adopt a four-legged herbivore that could fly or do magic.

"Present, not the past," the aquamarine mare murmured to herself. "Did you finish double-checking the Constitution?"

"Double and triple checked. There's not a single hole that I can find in the Guardian Clause or any other articles. The Constitution is designed with human welfare in mind, and not a single other thing. Would you believe that there is an entire sub-article that grants the President and his staff supreme military and domestic power in the events of a foreign attack?"

Lyra believed it; she'd read that same paragraph no less than eight times now. "Heh. They wrote in fascism, martial law at its most legal. What a country."

"I would prefer a short fascist reign over being ruled by an indefinite monarchy."

Lyra raised a hoof to object, but quickly remembered that the Equestrian Senate was essentially powerless and only convened when summoned by the diarchy. Not to mention all authoritative government positions, like the ministers, the captain of the royal guard, the high generals, and even the governors of Equestria's provinces and territories were all appointed by the Princesses. Even marriages into the Royal Family, the distant descendants of the ancient unicorn royalty that had ruled briefly before the Tribal Unification, had to be officially sanctioned by the alicorn sisters. Not that they had ever actually condemned any union, but they still had that power.

"Present, not the past," she mused again. "It's got to be something in the Constitution. Some contradiction, some loophole, a grammatical error, a coffee smudge on one of the founder's signatures, something." Lyra looked up to her whiteboard, her eyes following the web of lines that connected each amendment and article of the complex Constitution of the Republic of Terra. They all seemed to flow seamlessly into one another and supported one another like the buttresses in the castle at Canterlot. It was apparent that this was by far not the first supreme law of the land that the humans had ever deigned to write, and it displayed a level of government advancement that Equestrian philosophers had only dreamed about.

"It is not," the ghost replied, ceasing his endless loop around the desk. "The Constitution of the Republic is airtight, and the implied powers of the Guardian Clause close any holes that might be there."

"Then what else is there?"

Clarence dove into a pile of papers, emerging half a moment later. "Two dozen trade agreements, a few border limitations and concessions, and a spate of civil and criminal laws for the city of Lazarus and the surrounding country. Also two proposed constitutional amendments; one ratified, and one vetoed by the president."

"Is it one of those?" Lyra asked in a somewhat hopeful tone, though she already knew the answer to that question.

"No, the ratified amendment concerned the permanent outlawing of arcane narcotics in addition to the ones that were already outlawed, and the denied amendment was about limiting the gauge of railroads to solidify the Republic's growing railway monopoly in their own territory."

Lyra groaned in frustration. "Railroads. There's serious topical issues about basic human --and creature!-- rights to be discussed, and they're concerned about star sugar . . . and railroads. If I didn't know any better, I'd say this country has its priorities out of order." She leaned back in her chair and sighed in defeat; there was nothing in this office that vindicated her cause or enforced her claim.

"Money always wins, that's just how it is."

Lyra's neck snapped forward. "It's money, isn't it? That's the secret ingredient I need to stir in and make this shit cake edible?" A rather fitting shit-eating grin appeared on her face.

The ghost could have sighed, but for his lack of lungs. "At this point, a few million dollars in the right pocket might help. But unless that little horn of yours can make all the old alchemists proud and produce gold out of thin air, that's another route that's closed to us."

"Mother humper!" the mare swore. "That's a spell I don't know! Picked a good freaking day to fall asleep in magic kindergarten, didn't I!"

The ghost's pale white light shifted to an odd shade that was somewhere between blue and grey. "Can you really make gold?" He sounded utterly flabbergasted.

Lyra rolled her eyes. "I told you, I fell asleep that day. And it only stays gold for a little bit, then it goes back to being a rock or a piece of wood or whatever else it was before. Back on topic, did you check the taxation reports and the national census?"

"Checked in triplicate, not a single point of relevance."

"Any submitted petitions that might be bouncing around in the senate as we speak?"

"No, and those wouldn't have legal precedence or binding power unless they successfully passed through the gauntlet of senatorial committees and sub-committees and survived a vote, as well as a round of possible vetoes from the president. Even then the Justices would be the ones who ultimately decided whether it was constitutional or not, and just out of spite they would declare it unconstitutional to keep your case from gaining any leverage or advantages."

"Back at square one," Lyra grumbled. She leaned back in her chair again, pondering what else might have some miniscule amount of pull in court. Her amber eyes drifted over the mounds of papers and files that had accumulated around the desk, and for a moment her mind almost returned to the black pit of despair that she had spent so many months trying to crawl out of. All this time she had approached the situation looking for the tiniest bit of what might be considered precedent among hundreds of ancient court cases. She had been searching for the scraps of scraps, and somewhere in this garbage pile was supposed to be a feast of information. 

Sighing to herself, Lyra swiveled her chair around and looked out the window for the first time in days. The window had a clear view of the eastern horizon, so the house's true owner would be able to face the rising sun in the mornings. But now it was nearing dusk, and while the western horizon was a palette of oranges and reds splashed onto the sky by the setting sun, the east was already under the spell of night. And just as the sun slowly crept behind the hills, the barest sliver of the moon peeked out in the east. 

Within minutes, the ever watchful Mare in the Moon stared down in her full glory at the nighttime lands, and Lyra's thoughts wandered. It must be night in Ponyville by now, she thought to herself. The streetlamps are probably lit, and everypony is inside with their friends and their families. Some of them are probably in bed by now. The image of Bonbon lying alone in the bed that they had shared for so many years entered her mind. She imagined that Bonbon still slept on her side of the bed, even though she could have had the whole thing to herself. She imagined that maybe Bonbon still thought about her at night, and maybe she sometimes woke up in the morning expecting to feel the warm and comforting hoof of her partner wrapped around her. I miss you so much. . . And I wanted to tell you. . . I wanted to say that I did this because I love you. I love you with every fiber of my being, and I wanted you to be a part of a happy family with me. But I messed it all up. "I messed it all up," she said aloud.

"Don't say that."

"No, it's true. I messed up my life, I messed up my marriage, I completely bucked up this whole country, and for all I know it's partially my fault that Aaron is messed up with his devil thingy. I wanted to make families and make people happy, and look where we are now. There's been riots, arrests, bloodshed, and I've just made a deeper schism in this country. And look at me, talking to a dead man. I've broken this country, strained the relationship between humans and ponies, and I've broken the peace-" Lyra stopped herself in mid-sentence, and she stared at the moon for a long moment. "Wait. Wait just one moment. No. No way. It . . . it can't be that simple. Have . . . have you ever played street magic?"

Again the ghost assumed that odd coloration of perplexity. "Let us assume that I have not."

Lyra shook her head quickly, swiveling the chair back to face the desk. "It's a game we used to play back in Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. I was never really good at it, and the teachers always made rules to try and stop us from playing it, but hey, we were a bunch of dumb kids, of course we played it! Anyways, the point of the game was to set two players against one another and see who could make the best show of magic. Sometimes we lifted things, sometimes we made lights, and sometimes we made little constructs to fight each other. The construct fights were my favorite, but there was a big flaw in the game: nopony could ever win in a practical way. There was an aura that limited summoning around the school so somepony didn't conjure a centaur or something, so all the magical constructs were always evenly matched, and believe me, they could fight for days! And whoever lost was the person who gave up first. But the only real way to win decisively was to try and work around their construct and hit them instead."

The ghost had shifted to a plain white. "I fail to see where you're going with this."

Lyra bit her lip and tried to think of a way to say it. "Uhhh . . . boxing! You used to love boxing! What's the objective of boxing?"

"Hmph, there is no oblique 'objective' to boxing, one must simply use his wits and his strengths to overcome or outlast a foe."

"Yeah yeah yeah, just like going to court! But when you're doing fisticuffs with someone, do you hit their hands?" The ghost scoffed and shook himself, a gesture that had come to mean the same thing as shaking his head. "Yeah, you don't hit them on their fists, or in our case, their arguments. What do you do to KO someone? You go for his head! You take out the thing that's making the fists come at you! Now, what enables the Republic of Terra's justice system? What makes their fists fly?"

Clarence began to slowly catch on, and his spectral essence grew brighter. "The Constitution."

Lyra grinned. "And what enables the Constitution?"


***************************


Like so many nights before the creature social revolution had been taken to the streets and to the courts, the Watering Hole was somber, and everypony was bent shamefully over a glass. But tonight was different; there was a sense of failure and shattered pride that accompanied the atmosphere, and the dozens of bandaged limbs, bruised bodies and black eyes from the riot only solidified that feeling. Occasionally some beaten creature would groan in pain, but overall the establishment was silent. Even the diamond dogs, who had been among the most rabid supporters of the movement, only whimpered and drank. With their instincts telling them to protect their pack, and the ponies of Lazarus having been incorporated into their pack, they had quickly moved to the front of the riot and born the brunt of the human opposition.

High Spirits, despite his mild case of toxic inhalation and taking a baton to the shoulder, worried at another invisible stain in his bar top. High had spent his whole day scrubbing every last corner of the bar, the thoughts of yesterday's riot still running through his mind. This bar was everything to him. He'd given up a comfortable and stable place in Appaloosa just to find some kind of opportunity in this strange city with these strange creatures that called themselves human beings, and now more than ever he regretted it. Like so many other opportunity seekers that stared down at the bottoms of their glasses, the thought of pulling up roots and heading back to Equestria seemed like not too bad of an idea right now.

Heck, rumor had it that a few of the former Stoneclaws were at their communal house at this very moment packing up every worldly possession they owned with their sights set on the Northern Rocky Mountains. The few gryphons that lived in the city of Lazarus had already contacted their nation's ambassador and found political sanctuary in their embassy. And the mules. . . well, the mules and donkeys seemed apathetic about the entire situation in general. The humans just didn't seem bothered by them, and the donkeys made a cozy living on Terran dollars by pulling plows and doing basic labor.

But High's place, come hell or high water, was here. And if every pony in the entire country decided to pack up and head back to Equestria, he would stay and keep his bar open until he could no longer afford to run it. 

High Spirits sighed, lifting his rag and throwing it over his shoulder. He stared down at his bartop, wondering who he was staying here for, what kind of stubborn ideals he was trying to cling to. The stallion sighed and ran a hoof through his mane. But just as he was about to break his own personal code and pour himself a free drink, a familiar pony limped in through the door. 

The slightest smile came to his face as Honey Cup sat down at his bar, obviously favoring her right foreleg. Aside from her limp, the right half of the mare's face was purple with bruises, her right eye was swollen shut, and she was bandaged with whatever bandages the underground hospital had been able to spare for her. She looked like a poorly tenderized steak, but High didn't say that. Instead, he poured her a glass of her favorite red wine.

"On the house," he said as he pushed the drink towards the defeated mare. "So, how you feelin'?"

Honey Cup looked at him sourly with her one good eye. "They said the swelling would start to go down in a few days, but I'm not supposed to sleep unsupervised or else I might never wake up. You know, because of the gruesome head injury. I also seem to have become the secondary figurehead of a pariah movement in a nation with the biggest grudge against our kind in known history. And my fiance seems to think that our lives are in peril and has started packing his bags and scraping together money for the first train back to Manehattan. The military let me out on bail, but I still have to appear in court for disturbing the peace and resisting arrest. So yes, I feel rather peachy, thank you for asking."

High shrugged inoffensively. "Just thought I'd ask."

Honey rolled her unswollen eye. "Where is James? I rather expected him to be here."

The stallion grunted something, grabbing a slightly dirty glass and wiping it down with his even dirtier rag. "Jimmy's over at the diamond dog's community house trying to talk them out of leaving Lazarus. Said he might be there all night."

"If he gets done with them early, do you think he might be able to convince me as well?" Honey asked, rolling her wine glass dolefully between her hooves. "It's taken every speech and every argument that I have to convince my beloved to stay here and not forcibly drag me to the train station. And though his pleas for my wellbeing have mostly been ignored, lately I have found myself wondering why I still fight this battle." Her eyes looked up from the glass of wine and up to High. "Maybe our kind would be better off in the welcoming bosom of our homeland."

High stopped wiping down the glass, slapping his rag down on the bar. "What about those folks?" He pointed out the door and towards the city. "I thought those people out there needed friends more than we needed opportunities."

Honey Cup hunched over her glass of wine, tracing a wing feather around the rim of the glass. "They don't want us here anymore, that much is for certain. And if the best thing we can do is to get out of their way, then so be it."

"Damn it!" High swore. "What in Tartarus happened to us? We were doing so good for everyone, and now everyone is talkin' like we lost a war or somethin'! Honey, just yesterday you were talking about humans and ponies makin' huge strides together. Hell, for a few minutes there you sounded like you would support inter-species marriage with your dying breath."

"And I still do," Honey replied quietly, taking a sip from her glass. "The only real difference now is that I realize that the more we do to try and work our way into their lives, the more they'll resent us for it. There might be a day when ponies like Lyra can adopt human children and vote in human elections and even find human spouses to their heart's desire. But we will all be long dead when that day finally comes."

High wanted to argue, but there was no point that he could make that would sway Honey. "I . . . I guess you're right. I guess we'll just have to hold our heads up high and take our lickin'." The door to the bar creaked open, and a silhouette of a unicorn mare stood just outside the dim light. "Grab a seat anywhere, I'll get your drinks in a minute," the stallion said dejectedly.

"High Spirits, you sound like a little foal who just got told that Hearth's Warming was cancelled."

The barkeeper froze. He squinted at the mare in the doorway, and through the dark he began to see aquamarine fur, amber eyes, and a defiant smirk on one of the most welcoming faces he had ever seen. His heart soared, and the stallion shouted, "Lyra!"

Honey Cup snapped up straight, spinning around on her barstool. "Lyra?"

"The one and only. At least I hope there's no other mares out cavorting around with my identity. I got a terrible credit history, and I wouldn't want them to be too disappointed." The unicorn trotted in with her head held high and her tone completely free of doubt or stress. By then, the bar was alive with murmurs. The prodigal daughter had reappeared from thin air, and the way she walked and talked sent ripples out into the crowd. Sliding easily into a free barstool next to Honey Cup, who was still frozen in disbelief, Lyra tapped her hoof on the bar. "Barkeep, orange soda!"

Lyra had to repeat herself before High could make himself grab the least dusty bottle of orange soda he could find. "What's . . . what's going on?" the stallions stammered. Lyra uncapped her soda and let the fizz bubble out before taking a long drink. "Lyra, are you . . . okay? I mean, the last time we all saw you, you were crying your eyes out and running out of the courthouse. A lot of us thought you were gonna go hurt yourself."

The unicorn set down her already half-finished soda and wiped her mouth with the back of her hoof. "For a while, so did I."

"Then what changed?" Honey Cup said, edging her way into the conversation. 

Lyra grinned to the actress. "I think I found the answer. It's a long shot, and I'm not even sure it really exists, but I have to know. And if it is real, then everything the human laws have against us is nothing."

High Spirits leaned close, his heart pounding in anticipation of the possible solution to all of their problems. "What is it?"

"Before I tell you, I need somepony to do something for me."

Honey and High shared a glance with one another before nodding. "Of course, what do you need us to do?"

Lyra took in a little breath and wet her lips. "I don't necessarily mean you two. But. . . I need someone who can fly all the way to Gladstone and back in a single night. In fact, I might need more than one pegasus pony to do this."

The two other ponies shared a quizzical look with each other. "Gladstone? What's in Gladstone?"

"If I'm right, and it's a longshot, there might be a document there that we can access. I know there's at least one copy of it here in Lazarus, but it's locked away in the Undercity's library, probably beneath a pane of bulletproof and fireproof glass, never to be opened or see the light of day. And that's if the one in Gladstone is actually in Gladstone, and if the people who keep it will be willing to let us borrow it, and if we can get it back here in Lazarus before court is in session tomorrow morning."

High Spirits leaned back, a doubtful look in his eye. "That's a lotta 'ifs'."

"An 'if' is still a possibility, my fine comrade." A little spark entered Honey Cup's open eye, and both the unicorn and the earth pony could tell that her heart was swelling with passion at that moment. "Lyra, my wings shall serve as the vessel through which the light of justice shall shine upon this land! For you, for this country, for freedom, I would fly into the fiery maw of Tartarus itself and back!"

Lyra cut her dramatic monologue short. "Not you, Honey. You look pretty banged up, and I don't want you hurting yourself again."

"Darling, if not I, then whom?" the actress implored, a visibly hurt and disappointed look falling over her face.

"I know who," the bartender said. High Spirits set his jaw firm, and he walked out from behind his bar. "Hey! If any of you worthless boozebags are still moping around about gettin' your flanks kicked yesterday, I just want to tell you that the main mare is back, and she's got a plan!" The bar patrons all turned their attention to the source of their interruption. Satisfied that he had at least caught their attention, High continued. "Now I want you all to listen up. Lyra needs some flyers. And if any of you featherheads think you're worth your wings, then we need you to head east to Gladstone! It's a long flight for anypony, and we need you back by morning. Any volunteers?"

Over in the corner of the bar, a chair scraped back, and the grizzled muddy-brown stallion in it rose. "Heck, flying to Gladstone is nothin'. I once flew from Manehattan to Dodge Junction through a hailstorm and I still arrived on time. I'm your fly boy." 

Another chair scooted back, and a navy-blue mare rose. "I was second wing before I dropped out of the Wonderbolts Training Academy. If you need speed and endurance, I'm your mare."

Several other pegasi and even a gryphon rose from their chairs, all espousing their flying capabilities, each one trying to one-up the braggart before him. Having found her volunteers, Lyra gathered them around and told them what they were looking for and who to look for to find it. As she told them about the mysterious document, whispers began to spread out through the bar like wildfire. As soon as Lyra said the name of what she was looking for, a little spark of hope was kindled in their hearts. And right about the time the sky finally darkened completely, almost twenty flying creatures took off for the eastern edges of human territory.


********************


That morning, Lyra trotted down towards the courthouse, toting a briefcase in her teeth, and a certainty in her step. Eighteen pegasi had left The Watering Hole right about at eight o'clock last night, and only ten minutes ago the first of them had arrived back with a positive report and the document itself tucked away safely in their saddlebags. But before they could hand it over, the pegasus who had retrieved it said that the document's keepers held it in the highest regard, and wished that no harm come to it. 

Before she even left the house that morning, Lyra had gone one last time to Aaron's bedroom door and knocked. Just like the night before, not a peep had come out, though she could have sworn she heard him weeping sometime in the early hours of the morning. She told him about borrowing his jacket, and then left with her new document in hoof. 

All of the people she saw as she made her way down the streets of Lazarus seemed encouraged by her confident gait, and by the time she reached the courthouse, a sizable crowd of ponies and sympathetic humans was following her to the courthouse steps, and there they would wait until judgement had passed. She entered without causing a commotion, and sat down to the right of her opponent, Attorney General David Bennett. 

She glanced over at Bennett as the bailiff called for everyone to rise, and the look on his face raised Lyra's eyebrow. The Attorney General looked solemn and stern, as if he was trying to maintain his stoicism in the face of all that had transpired and what was about to transpire. Lyra seated herself, still glancing at David. 

As they had done for weeks now, the Justices filed in one by one to take their seats at the bench, each sitting at their respective place and opening up the docket laid in front of them. Chief Justice Halliburton settled into her seat, and court could finally begin on this final day. 

The gavel slammed down once, twice, three times on the polished surface of the Justice's bench. "We shall continue to hear arguments this morning in case no. 1 of the Terran judiciary, Lyra Heartstrings v. Republic of Terra." Chief Justice Haliburton laid her gavel down, folding her fingers and looking intently at the petitioner. "Mrs Heartstrings, before the conclusion of the previous session of court, this court was presented with evidence that you were in outstanding violation of Terran civil law better known as the Marriage Rights Act before you came forward and made your challenge to the basic legality of the Guardian Clause of the Constitution. You have been given an opportunity to consider your options, and the court is willing to forgo a dismissal if you are willing to withdraw your argument. This court believes that to be more than fair, and advises you to withdraw."

The petitioner slid her chair out and stood, taking a moment to rear up on her hind legs and stand tall like a human. She had gone all out today; one of Aaron's suit jackets had been repurposed for her use, though the shoulders were far too wide for her and the sleeves not quite wide enough. She had wanted to go with the pants too, but they were too long at the ankle and too tight around the hindquarters; not to mention she would have needed to cut a hole for her tail. If she had the time she would have tried to let out the sleeves and tighten the shoulders, but Bonbon was the mare with the needle, and this wasn't even her suit.

Lyra cleared her throat. "Before I begin properly, I would first like to apologize for my actions during the last session of court. I was in a rather . . . fragile state of mind. You see, in Equestria, we ponies live and breathe because of the company we keep and the friends we make. And any time we lose a friend, it's . . . it's like losing a part of ourselves. Losing Bonbon . . . to hear her name used against me like that, it was like my own heart stopped beating." Lyra stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. "I've made a lot of friends here in Lazarus; humans and ponies alike. People I'll never forget; friends that will be a part of who I am forever. That's all I wanted in life. At first, all I could think about was being right. I spent five years traveling around the world, blowing my trust fund, my college fund, and half of my parent's life savings trying to be right about the existence of human beings. I thought I wanted the truth above everything else. And it was only after I lost everything, my wife, my cause, even my faith in myself that I realized what was important: the people that care about you."

The mare paced up and down in front of the bench, her front legs folded behind her back like she had seen some humans do. "The people who care about you, and the people you care about. That's what is important. And with that in mind, I respectfully decline the court's offer. I will not withdraw my argument or concede any point I have made thus far."

A collective groan came from the Justice's bench. Justice Dailey pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Mrs Heartstrings, there is no other alternative. We weren't offering a deal with options, this court kindly offered you an ultimatum. You either withdraw your case and spare your people the future difficulty of having this case used against them as legal precedence against gay and creature rights, or you stay the course and every civil rights case from here forward will have your name tacked against it. We bent our own laws when we didn't just close the case at the last convention, I hope you realize that."

"You didn't just bend them," Lyra replied coolly, "You shattered them. And not just the laws that govern this court. In fact, I have evidence that proves that this court, and the entire government of the Republic of Terra, has been engaging in activities that are of an illegal nature and denigrate the very foundation of this country!"

Chief Justice Halliburton tapped her gavel, silencing the murmurs that floated through the gallery. "Petitioner, what relevance would these so called "illegal activities" have to your argument?"

The mare smirked. "It's all relevant, every last bit of it. I can show you how Terran industries have been illegally fixing prices and limiting exports to keep income high. I have proof that the Terran Army has been engaging in illegal military actions. I have proof that you've been spying on your neighbors and your own citizens. I can show you, without a shadow of doubt, that what Alexander Sanders said to me and my beloved in the Dean of Medicine's office that day was more than just an outrage, it was a breach of the law."

Justice Sikes smiled like a cat stalking a mouse. She cleared her throat loudly. "Let the courtroom records state that the petitioner's conspiracy theories and accusations of illegal activity on the part of the Terran judiciary are unfounded and lack any sort of credibility."

Lyra narrowed her eyes. "More than you think." Without further banter, her horn lit up with golden-yellow light, and with a touch of theatrics, the document in her saddlebag materialized out of thin air with a shower of golden sparks. The document, wrapped like a sacred scroll of ancient and arcane wisdom, slowly unrolled itself, revealing the standard and uniform print of a human word processor. But what caught the eyes of the Justices and the on-lookers in the gallery were the dozens of little pictographs that adorned the margins and the back of the document. They seemed like the little ochre paintings that ancient Native Americans had made thousands of years ago. 

"This," she stated boldly, "is the Armistice. The Peace of Terra. The treaty between humankind and the creatures that fought them that officially brought an end to the Great War. One of only three of its kind in the whole world. This one belongs to the bison, who believe it to be a sacred covenant between themselves and the creatures they feared for two thousand years. This is the sole document, signed by the leaders of Equestria and the representatives of your species, that grant this nation sovereignty in the eyes of the world powers. Signed before god and tens of thousands of witnesses, the Peace is what gives the human race its freedom to live and freedom to prosper."

"You're wrong," Justice Sikes interrupted. "Those rights, and the sovereignty of this nation, stem from the Constitution, not from some land agreement that looks as if it were passed around a kindergarten class." Several of the other conservative Justices nodded, though they did not agree entirely with her choice of words.

Lyra's smirk only grew more irritating. "Allow me to read a few passages." She flipped through the pages of the Peace, and finally came to the one that vindicated her. "Ahem. 'In the interests of peace and harmony, as well as the well-being and fertility of the human race, the signers of this document do so swear that persons of emigrated nationality and racial origin shall receive rights no greater and no less than the naturalized people of their country of immigration.'" Lyra gently rolled up the document. "Reciprocity. That's the immigration policy laid out by the very foundation of this country, and guess what, it's the civil policy as well! Granted, it was designed completely with human emigration out of the Republic in mind, but without specified wording, it works the other way as well. Humans who wish to obtain full Equestrian citizenship are granted that right, so long as the Republic gives pony citizens the same in return. And the last time I checked, humans could do pretty much whatever they damn well pleased in Equestria. A few weeks ago in this very courtroom, I presented evidence as to the physical and mental wellbeing of a human family that has taken up residence in Equestria. Well, I did a little more digging, and I even brought in my old copy of Equestria's civil laws."

The old ratty paper that Lyra had presented as evidence in her argument that first morning came out of her briefcase, and Lyra took a moment to smooth out some of the wrinkles before giving it to the bailiff to be presented before the Chief Justice. Chief Justice Haliburton seemed more intent than ever, and she gingerly took the piece of notebook paper and passed it to Justice Rutherford without so much as a glance. But the usual sternness was gone from her face, and the Chief Justice looked more inquisitive than anything else.

"It turns out that a lot of those examples I presented to you that first morning were completely valid if both nations uphold their side of the Peace. Equestria provides fair and equal civil rights to all of its citizens; ponies, donkeys, gryphons, dragons, minotaurs, even humans. If a human becomes a citizen, then they get the right to vote. They get the right to avoid discrimination. By simply stating that they wish to live as citizens of the fine nation of Equestria, they have earned the privilege to say and do whatever they want!"

"So what?" Justice Sikes shot back. "The Peace of Terra has as much bearing in this court as a pinkie swear. It's not a basis of civil law; it's a military declaration of ceasefire!"

Lyra chuckled under her breath. "Then I suggest that you all find yourselves a good Judge Advocate in the military, because by saying 'no' to a pony who is a legal citizen, you've committed high treason and war crimes." Lyra began to pace in front of her desk again. "Tell me, what happens when you breach a contract? The contract becomes null and the person who breached it usually has to acknowledge that they did with some kind of compensation as ordered by a civil court. The Peace of Terra is the contract between the Republic and Equestria, a legally binding document that says that our two nations shall live in peace and treat one another as equals." She spun on her hoof, and jabbed her foreleg at the Justices' bench. "By denying me my civil and family rights as a citizen simply because of my heritage, you have breached the Peace of Terra and officially nullified it! And it gets worse, oh boy does it get worse. Because you nullified the document that officially grants this nation its sovereignty in the eyes of the global community, this country has been dissolved! There is no Republic of Terra. The vast majority of the human race now belongs to an outlaw state." Lyra dropped her hoof, and her voice dropped in tone. "And the cherry on top? Because you saw fit to dissolve the legal power of the Peace, the human race immediately returns to the state just prior to the signing of the Peace."

A loud crash shattered the ensuing silence. A glass of water had fallen straight out of Justice Nakamura's typically steady hand as the full implications dawned on him. "No . . . that can't be true," the Justice murmured.

"That's right. By denying me my right to adopt a human child when the reciprocal right is fully available to humans in Equestria, you have legally declared war on the kingdom of Equestria and all her allied states."

Silence filled the courtroom, and then all hell broke loose. In an instant what had been an orderly court of law was a stew of angry shouting from the bench of the Justices, some of it aimed at Lyra, though most of it was between the Justices themselves. The people in the gallery who had come just to watch were raising their voices in a mixture of fear and confusion. With one word, one single little three letter word, Lyra had brought back the specter of death and destruction that had plagued these people, the people who had survived their own apocalypse and only now had achieved some kind of normal life. 

War. 

Such a small word, yet its power grew like wildfire. The look of triumph in Lyra's eyes faded as she saw the fear in the eyes of the humans all around her. In all likelihood, there would be no real war. The ambassadors of Equestria and the Republic would meet, edit the terms of the treaty, and life would go on. But the very scant possibility of another war brought back nightmares to these people. And as the chaos grew, Lyra hung her head low and regretted ever saying a word.


**************************************


Across the city, Aaron sat up in his bed, damp with cold sweat. He had no idea what Lyra had said only moments ago in court, and he had no idea what had woken him from his stupor, but somehow he could feel the emotions of the people affected by it. All around him it rang like the sound of a gong in the silence, a horrendous tremor in the collective thoughts and emotions of the human race that shook his core; the sound of a hundred fears all being realized at the same moment. He clutched his head in agony, trying desperately to keep the waves of chaotic emotions from poaching his brain like an egg.

And from somewhere deep inside of himself, he could hear cruel laughter and the rattle of chains.

"You bastard," Aaron whispered to himself before falling back to unconsciousness.


***************************************


"A bit dramatic, but now the Justices have no choice but to cast their lot in with our side to save their own hides," the voice in her ear whispered.

"Yeah," Lyra whispered back glumly, "at what cost?" 

All around her the humans of Lazarus panicked at the thought of shattering their hard won peace with Equestria. Although the shouts and sounds of the chaotic courthouse all seemed to meld into a single roar of noise, Lyra could hear a few words from the humans in the gallery. Some talked about leaving Lazarus and the Republic altogether, hoping to claim Equestrian citizenship before  the international community could brand them as stateless outlaws and pirates. Others more angrily spoke of joining the army in case this was the justification to the planned military campaign and foreign occupation that had been plotted by Equestria, an utter myth that had been running around Lazarus like the flu since the riots. Still others just sat silently, too stunned by what they had heard to react.

But the general rabble that had consumed the onlookers in the gallery paled in comparison to the reactions of the nine figures at the bench of the Justices. Justice Sikes leaned over the bench, her face as red as a beet, screeching a mixture of her own brand of obscenity and the occasional attempt at a declaration of a mistrial. Justice Rutherford sat with his pudgy face hidden behind his docket, desperately flipping through to find any evidence that might nullify such a claim and tossing aside any forms and documents that were irrelevant. Justice Brockman and Justice Dailey were standing inches from each other's faces, arguing and jabbing one another in the chest and shoulders, which seemed to upset the more sensitive Justice Lanning, who cringed in her seat.

And all the while, looking on from her seat in the middle of the chaos, Chief Justice Halliburton sat silently, her legendary brand of discipline and stoicism holding firm. Only, she wasn't as stoic as she appeared, Lyra noticed. The typical firmness in her eyes was gone, and now she only seemed . . . disappointed. All around her the world of civility and justice that the human race had built for itself was crumbling, and Abigail Halliburton looked down at the creature that had shattered it all wearing sadness on her face.

My fault . . . it's all my fault. I've broken these people, Lyra thought to herself.

Without consulting her legal counselor, Lyra quickly changed her plan. 

"Madam Chief Justice! I-" she shouted, only to have her declaration drowned out by the roar of voices.

The Chief Justice's eyes opened wide, and she slammed down her gavel so hard that the handle snapped in two. "Order!" the Chief Justice snapped. Despite the chaos of the courtroom, every man, woman, mare and stallion wilted under her gaze. A ringing silence quickly filled the courtroom. "What did you say?" she said lowly to the petitioner.

"I said, 'Madam Chief Justice, I retract my statement, and wish it to be struck from court records and to be dismissed as evidence.' I would also suggest that a joint committee of Terran and Equestrian dignitaries review the Mirror Clause of the Peace and correct the mistake found within."

"What are you doing?!" the ghostly voice in her ear screamed. "There is no testimony or affidavit that can be used against evidence like the Peace! This is our knockout, our trump card!" Lyra ignored him.

"Why?" the Chief Justice said in stunned disbelief. "Petitioner, why would you do such a thing? You have the entire Republic of Terra bent over a barrel! You have beaten us at our own game! You could ask for anything in the entire world and we would have to find some way to give it to you. Why in the world would you throw away something that exonerates your people and makes your claim law?"

"Because," the mare said in reply to both her lawyer and the Chief Justice, "I am not a monster. I look around here, and I see these people, these wonderful, amazing people, and I see that they're afraid of me. They're afraid of what I said and what I did. Throughout my life, I've done some dumb things. I've traveled around the world looking for something that turned out to be in my own backyard. I let my obsession destroy my career. I . . . I let the one person that I care about most walk out the door. And this," she levitated the Peace of Terra in her magical aura, "it was the biggest mistake I've ever made. But I'm done making mistakes, and I'm through with letting my dumb decisions hurt the people I care about. And I care about you," she said to the Chief Justice. And then she turned to the other Justices. "And I care about you," she said to Justice Sikes. "And I care about you," she said to Justice Brockman before turning back to the gallery. "I care about you, and you, you, you, and you too," she said as she pointed her hoof towards several people in the gallery. "I care about the human race, and I care about my own people too. And if I didn't want the best future for the both of us, then I would have withdrawn my argument weeks ago. I kept fighting because I want to see the day when a human child and a pony child can share their laughter, their dreams, and their happiness with each other. I want to see the day when the children of the old world and the children of the new world can forgive each other for whatever sins might haunt their past."

Lyra slowly looked down at herself, at the gaudy impersonation of a human that she had been so excited to wear. Slowly she lowered her forelegs and settled down on all fours. Her horn lit up, and the buttons on her jacket and the shirt underneath came undone. She removed her borrowed accouterments and tossed them into the chair of the petitioner's table. She stood the way she should stand, and was clothed in nothing but her own fur, and it felt right. She was no longer a confused little filly trying to play dress up as a creature that she had always admired, she was proud of who she was and what she was. 

"We are not enemies," she started. "But friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the angels of our better nature. Abraham Lincoln said that in his first inaugural address. From what I've read, I can tell that he was a great man, a man who believed in rebuilding burnt bridges, who believed that everyone is born free and should live free. Lincoln believed that all men . . . that all people, are equals at heart, and that it is only our ignorance and our misgivings that separate us. That in the end, our better nature will always triumph. Please, show me your better nature. Madam Chief Justice, the petitioner rests."

Lyra sat down in her chair. She had rescinded her best piece of evidence, and now all that remained was for David Bennett to make his response and hopefully let the deliberations begin. 

Chief Justice Halliburton took a deep breath, let out a calming sigh, and turned to the Attorney General. "Respondent, you may now begin."

Bennett rose from his seat, his normally tan and confident face seeming much more pale and clammy than usual. "Madam Chief Justice, the respondent abstains from debate at this time for fear of committing treason. Respondent rests." Bennett sat down, and Chief Justice Halliburton rose from her seat. 

"At this time the Justices shall withdraw for deliberation of the presented case. Until such time as a consensus is reached, court is in recess."