Seventeen years ago
In the warmth of the late summer sun that streamed through the grand windows overlooking the University quad, Star Sparkle looked around her new office and shook her head at the unreality of it all. Her office. It was the outward sign of everything her career had built toward these last years, though for a lot of that time she hadn't even known it.
Could it be hers? It still smelled of Indy – more accurately of the foul tobacco pipe she'd taken to smoking in the last few years of her tenure. The desk Indy had used for as long as Star had known her still stood close to the back wall, along with its high-backed chair, but Indy's well-stocked drinks cabinet was gone, as were the filing cabinets and the stout safe that had held most of her papers. Those would have to be replaced, Star thought. And a new table, somewhere away from the desk, so she could eat without making a mess of her work.
The view beyond the windows, with its two cherry trees standing passive and full-headed and silent in the quad, caught Star's eye. She could still remember the first time she'd ever seen those trees from this vantage. Even after so long, they didn't look all that different.
The Sundancer building behind them, however, had been renovated some time in the last few years. Its old, stained brick and concrete shell had been extended with a pointless glass atrium while the rest was covered over with shiny green crystal slabs that caught the light in odd ways, serving only to highlight how decrepit the place was.
Her own building – her building – had no such pretensions. From the solid, grey granite exterior, to the echoing hallways and the grandly scaled office in which she now stood, it was the same as the day she had first laid eyes on it. The same as when Celestia herself had laid the first foundation stone nearly half a millennium before. As she looked over all its space and splendour, pausing only briefly to eye the familiar little bunk over the kitchenette, Star was forced to admit that, on the whole, things could have been a lot worse.
She was nosing thoughtfully at one of several large boxes stacked in the corner, and filled with everything from her old office, when the door crashed open and a young colt trotted through. A box floated across his slender white shoulders, and a filly marched smartly at his heel, while giving a constant running commentary of their progress to a stuffed toy perched upon her back.
With a sharp twitch of her head, Star turned from the box to face her son and daughter. Shining smiled; Twilight fell silent and glared.
"Is that the last of them?"
Shining Armour nodded before depositing the box with the others, beneath the window and well away from stray hooves. For a moment he hovered around the boxes, nosing uncertainly at them and frowning, before returning to his sister's side. For the entire time, Twilight hadn't taken her eyes from Star.
"When did Velvet say she'd be back for you?"
"Around lunch," replied Shining. He moved toward the couch, but when Twilight didn't move with him he stopped again. "I guess she's showing her new book to a lot of people."
"Good for her..."
There didn't seem much else to say, so Star returned her attention to the piles of books on Indy's—her desk. The thought twisted her face into a grimace as she considered just what that meant. Another grimace pushed the thought back down where it belonged. Star picked up a selection of books, turned to the shelf and immediately tripped over Twilight.
Books clattered to the floor, accompanied by Star's yell and Twilight's terrified screech. The little filly tumbled back on her haunches and screeched again as one of the books, which had landed on its end, fell over on her outstretched hind leg.
"Twilight—" Star shook her head and stepped back from the squalling filly. "Shining, please take care of your sister, I have work to do!"
At first Shining Armour didn't move. His eyes were locked on Star, and a glow of magic flickered around his horn, dancing fitfully around the tip like St. Elmo's fire. Then the spell winked out, and Shining darted forward to scoop Twilight up in his forelegs and onto his back. The stuffed toy followed a moment later, accompanied by a little notebook and what looked like a tiny quill.
Books were still scattered about Star's hooves. She lifted the half of the collection with a single spell and shuffled the books into a neat pile, before setting it on the desk at her side. As her magic sought out the rest, she turned to watch her children settling on the couch. Twilight, nestled in a corner of the couch, had fallen into a sullen sort of peace under Shining's gentle ministrations, though she still watched Star intently whenever her brother wasn't in the way.
"I thought you wanted us here," said Shining. He seated himself on the floor with his back to Star, choosing to speak to her over his shoulder instead.
"You—look, Shining, I appreciate the help, I do, but unless you can keep helping now, the best thing to do is stay out of my way. I only have a few days to get myself settled in to this place. It—"
A sharp jolt against Star's magic cut her off. She looked down for the source and found a book trying to edge out of its pile. When she looked up she could see the faint aura twisting around Twilight's horn, accompanied by an expression of absolute concentration that only a child could truly achieve.
"Twilight, what are you doing?"
"Getting a book," the filly sniffed. Shining Armour snickered and looked away for a moment until he had composed himself.
"Twilight, those are your mother's very special, important books. Don't do that." Star watched the book jerk an inch from the pile, and then another, until she slammed her hoof down on it. "Stop it!"
"But Miss Smartypants wants to read!"
"Who?"
Twilight silently held up her stuffed toy. The little doll's limbs flailed at Star and as it came to a rest, its head flopped back, leaving its little button eyes staring straight at her. Ignoring Shining's suppressed giggles, Star shuddered and looked away.
"Gods... here!" She pulled a reference catalogue from the desk and tossed it to Shining. He caught the book in a near-perfectly smooth bubble of magic. "Look at the pictures or something."
Shining peeled open the catalogue and leafed through it for a few pages, before shaking his head. "Wouldn't she be better off with a real book?"
"That's real enough for a pony her age."
"No, no at home she was reading something like..." Shining dropped the catalogue back on the desk, only for it to be tugged toward the curious filly in a sputtering aura. He watched its juddering progress for a moment before turning to the shelves, half-stocked with Star's library and already creaking under the weight of so many books. After a short moment of searching, his hoof came to rest on a book, which he quickly pulled free and held up for Star's benefit. "This! This exact book. Dad's been complaining that his copy keeps going missing."
"The wars of the earth pony republics..." Star snatched the book away before Shining could respond. She clutched it close to her chest. "She's trying to read Apibus? She's only seven!"
"She's read half the book already, mother." Shining stepped forward and touched his hoof to the thick card cover of the book, at the same time giving Star that smile she'd never been able to resist.
"Shiney..."
"It'll keep her quiet. I promise."
Star's back sway briefly. "Fine. But it's your allowance on the line if she destroys it. That was a gift from your father."
"She won't."
"It's probably priceless."
"She won't."
With a reluctant sigh, Star released her grip on the book, and watched as it floated away to what would surely be its destruction. Twilight immediately dropped her attention from the catalogue as her eyes fixed on the newcomer, and in a literal flash she had the book grasped between her forelegs. The book's spine creaked. Twilight's eyes widened as she peered at the text and a smile creased her lips. The same smile briefly flashed at Star before the filly turned her full attention to the book, and in moments she had scooted to her corner of the couch and settled on her back, with her legs lifted in the air as a makeshift reading stand and Smarty Pants balanced precariously on her belly, its little button eyes staring sightlessly at the book.
"Well how about that," murmured Star. She watched for a while as Twilight slowly worked her way down the page, occasionally pausing to chastise her doll for not understanding a particular sentence, but when the youngster called out to Shining for help with a word Star decided enough was enough, and turned back to her work.
If she could call it work, that was. It felt more like a burial. Star pawed at the books and paperwork on the desk before her and grunted as she tried to remember what she had been doing. Recollection came to Star just moments before a loud knock at the door interrupted her thoughts again.
"Whoever it is you better have a damn good reason for interrupting me," she snarled as she swung her head toward the door. After a pause the door swung open, giving Star a good look at the pegasus on the far side.
"Aunty Indy!" Shining Armour cried, briefly shocking Twilight from her reading. The young filly gave the newcomer a brief glance, then returned to her book.
Star pursed her lips. "Path? What are you doing here?"
"House-warming party," said Independent Path as she stepped through the door, whilst resolutely ignoring Star's perplexed stare. "And also finding out why you made my old secretary cry and quit his job in a single day."
"He wouldn't let me—that's not important!" Star Snorted. "I thought you were on your way to Nephelippion to lounge about on sunlit clouds and pretend to write your memoir."
"What, can't an old mare visit a friend once in a while?"
"After that row you had with the Vice-Chancellor I'm surprised you'd come anywhere near Canterlot, never mind the University," said Star.
"Like I said, just passing through." Indy trotted across to the couch, smiling at the two youngsters as she reached them. "Nice to see you again, Shining Armour. How's school?"
Shining bounced to his hooves at the attention. He grinned. "I'm joining the junior cadets!"
"Really? Splendid! You'll make a fine royal guard one day. I'm sure your mother must be very proud."
"First I've heard of it," Star muttered, which amused Indy greatly if her responding chuckle was any indication.
"You can hardly blame the lad, Star," she said, before turning her attention to Twilight. Indy leaned forward to peer at the young filly's book. With a surprised snort she turned to look at Star. "You've got her reading Apibus?"
"She's got herself reading it." Star turned back to Indy's—her desk – but soon found herself poking ineffectually at the piles of books and papers upon it. "Frankly she spends far too much of her time with her nose buried in books for my tastes."
"It didn't seem to do you any harm," Indy replied, laughing. She turned from the Shining and Twilight and stepped over to Star's side. Star felt a nudge in her ribs. "I remember your first year here, you spent all your spare time behind a pile of old books at the back of the library. The number of times I caught you sleeping between the stacks... There were days when I wondered if you would ever leave that library alive."
Indy fell silent, save for the quiet clump of her hooves across the floor. When Star looked back around she found her mentor had wandered to the far wall and was staring at the blank spaces and smoky outlines left behind when her photographs had been taken away.
She lifted her hoof to one space in particular and smiled.
"And then on your third year, the very day you returned to the University, you came and begged me to take you on that expedition. Remember that? You'd not shown even the slightest inclination to anything more adventurous than sneaking coffee into the restricted wing before, and yet suddenly you wanted to be off to the east and the great plains of the zebra. I always wondered if you'd stumbled across something in those books of yours."
Indy looked across her back at Star, smiling just slightly, as if waiting for some sort of response. All Star could do was shrug and and shake her tail.
"I just wanted to get away—get out into the world. Experience something different." She shrugged again, as if it would shift the burden of Indy's attention from her withers."Try new things before I... no. My interest in the Kuur came later."
"Different days."
Indy wandered back to the couch. It creaked as she settled down on it, gently, lest she disturb Twilight. The filly didn't seem aware of Indy at all, however, so engrossed was she in reading aloud to her stuffed toy.
"You know they wanted a copy of that particular photograph to put in the University museum? They had the little hagiography all written up as well. You and me out on the veldt, the eager young student learning all she would know from the wise old master." Indy snorted. "As if you learned anything at all that month."
"I don't know, I picked up a few things. Nothing I'd want in a museum..." Star smiled despite herself as she thought back to that first trip. "They really want to put you up in the Whistler Wing?"
"Not any more," Indy said with a sigh. She paused a moment and glanced at Shining Armour. "Shining, why don't you take your sister out to the refectory for a few minutes? There's a vending machine—" she tossed a small bag of bits to the surprised colt and winked at him. "Your mother and I have a few things to talk about."
"You're not going to yell at her until she leaves the country again, are you?"
"Shining Armour that was not—" Star turned as she spoke to find Shining grinning at her like he'd just figured out every joke known to pony kind. And those eyes... Somehow he had discovered that he could melt her heart with just a well-timed flick of his eyebrows. She was sure he got it from Lucent. "You cheeky boy. Get out of here."
Still grinning, Shining scooped Twilight, her book and her toy up on his back and double-timed toward the door, dancing through it with a barely intelligible "see you!" before trotting away down the hall.
"And take care of that book as well!"
The door slammed shut before she could hear Shining's answer, but Star knew what that answer would have been. She shook her head and turned from the door to examine Indy. The old mare was watching her, eyes narrow and—and tired. Her whole face was tired, and her coat silvered and worn thin by age.
And yet for all that...
"I see he's gone from plain biting to biting wit," Indy said, keeping her voice low, as if anyone could hear them through the thick walls. She took a long breath, and then another. "They grow up so fast, don't they?"
Star snorted. "Not fast enough."
"That's the one thing I never understood about you, Star." Indy smiled briefly, but then looked away to the window.
"You never understood me wanting my foals grown up?"
Indy shook her head. "Wanting foals at all. I left all of that breeding stuff to my sister over in Aganippolis, figured I'd rather focus on my career than have a bunch of little terrors hanging off my hind-quarters for half my life. I was never much of the motherly type."
"You and me both."
"And yet..." Indy waved her good wing toward the door.
"I didn't want foals, Indy. You know that by now." Star wandered around the desk, picking at her papers until they were back in some sort of more satisfying order. When she reached the chair she hesitated, but after a moment's thought let herself settle into it anyway. "Everypony probably knows that by now."
"Perhaps," Indy said before falling silent. When Star looked up at her, the old grey pegasus was smiling, though there was something of a melancholy behind it. Something about the way her eyes seemed to look right through Star. "How's the chair?"
"Comfortable. But there's this warm patch—"
"I had it reupholstered, before you get any naughty ideas," Indy said. "Seemed symbolic as well, doing that. Out with the stale old stains of age and wisdom, in with the fresh new scent of progress and youth. Well..." Indy eyed Star carefully. "Relative youth."
"I didn't want this, Path."
Indy laughed and shook her head. "Star, if you really didn't want this you wouldn't even be in the building, never mind shuffling your hind-quarters around my chair so vigorously. Boarundi alone proved you can't take no for an answer. Still, if you're having second thoughts—"
"I don't have time for second thoughts."
"No room for regret, hm?" Indy laughed again, leaning her head back on the couch as she did. "Oh the old clichés are certainly the best."
"You'd know," Star muttered, though she couldn't help smiling even so.
Again the silence fell, laid heavy with memory across the space between the two. Glancing at the desk, Star noticed that her shuffling and sorting had knocked over a picture frame, one she had placed there earlier. She flipped it upright and stared at the photograph. Two mares looked back at her, one in graduation gown and cap, the other wearing nothing save for a pendant and a cheeky hat. Both were grinning fit to burst. Star's hoof-tip stroked gently across the face of her younger self, and then touched at Twilight Velvet's snout. She looked away and closed her eyes.
"Okay Indy, kick it out. Why are you really here?"
"I'm not entirely certain," said Indy, "but I believe it's to have an argument with you."
Star's ears perked forward. She looked across at Indy and frowned. "Oh? If it's about that book I borrowed—"
Indy shook her head. "Ingozi."
"Ah. You heard." Star tapped her hooves together and leaned back in her chair. After a moment, Indy nodded once. "I suppose I should have realised it would get around sooner or later."
Another nod, this time accompanied by a slight flaring of Indy's wings. She was upset. The worst part is, Star couldn't quite work out why she was upset. As she pondered the possibilities, Star pressed her hooves together before her snout and narrowed her eyes.
"I suppose you're going to tell me I can't go," she said quietly.
Indy pursed her lips and nodded. "That's the gist of it," she murmured, before hopping from the couch with unexpected grace and trotting to the window.
"It's the last watering hole before the tribe turn toward the mountains. If I don't catch them there... it'd be another two years, Indy. A lot changes in two years."
As Indy yanked back the shutter, a cool breath of air quickly filled the office with the scent of cut grass, accompanied by the grumble and yelp of dozens of ponies making their way back and forth across the quad below. For just a moment, Star saw Indy lean into the breeze from the window she had pushed wide and close her eyes, while her wings flexed against her flanks.
"You knew I'd go before, didn't you," said Star. She turned her chair a quarter circle and frowned when she heard a slight squeak from somewhere beneath the seat. The sound seemed to pull Indy from her quiet reverie.
"To Boarundi? I suspected you would, but I also thought you might try and come to some sort of compromise and ask to join the expedition after you'd weaned. Evidently I underestimated your—"
"Persistence?"
"I was going to say bull-headed stubbornness." Indy turned her back to the window and wandered toward the couch again. "And your lack of responsibility."
"And now I suppose you're going to tell me that I have a responsibility to the University instead? You told me this wouldn't be a cage, Indy, but you're already pointing out the bars."
"I'm pointing out that there is a price for your position," Indy said.
"A position I didn't want, if you recall," Star shot back. "I wouldn't be here if you hadn't penned me into it. I'd rather be out there living on tack and plantain than stuck in this bloody office playing with budgets and harassing students!"
"Don't be silly, Star, you've always wanted to abuse the student body."
Indy grinned; Star just snorted her reply and looked away, but Indy didn't seem too concerned that she was being ignored.
"Funny," Star muttered.
"I admit, I did nibble a few ankles to get you this position, but that was because you are the only pony I could trust to keep this place together after I was gone." Indy waved a hoof toward the door, before pointing it at Star. "When I took up my chair, this department was a fraction of the size of Cavelbridge and essentially useless. When I left, Archaeology had become the largest unitary department in the University after Arcane Studies. I'd like it to stay that way."
"So? I'm not interested in preserving some legacy, Indy. I acquiesced to this because I had no alternative if I wanted to keep on doing what I enjoy." Star's ears folded against her head at the same time as she folded her forelegs across her chest. "This was nothing but a simple choice made to advance my career."
"There's gratitude for you. I worked hard to get you this position—"
"Which I didn't want," Star repeated.
"All I'm asking is that you take the time to come to grips with the place first. You need to establish yourself with the faculty and the department. Let they know they're harnessed to the right pony."
Star's hoof cut across the air in front of her. "I've had it with ponies telling me what to do now. I have tenure. If I want to go on a six month trip to Assbuckistan or Ponylasia or Tartarus itself I can just up and go, and to hell with what the faculty thinks."
"Without funding?"
Star blinked. The question had been accompanied by one of Indy's enigmatic little smiles, which meant she was about to launch into one of her lectures. Cursing the inevitability of it all, Star turned her full attention to her mentor.
"What do you mean without funding?"
"Exactly what I said, Star. These expeditions of yours cost a lot of money."
"Indy, half the department's budget is discretionary for that exact reason. I know you dipped into it a few times, like that—" Star raised her hoof to the wall, momentarily forgetting that all the photographs were gone. "Well. I was going to point at that group you sent to mooch around Trotiers for three weeks last year. If you could find the funds for a bunch of postgrads to travel the old world and get drunk, then I won't have a problem funding an expedition that does some real work."
"Believe it or not, Star, they were doing real work."
"Path, they were archaeologists at a conference on hippological ethics. How in heaven's name could that assist the department in any way?"
Star snorted and glared at Indy, but the mare only raised her eyebrow. Slowly, Indy lowered herself to the couch, facing Star head-on. She rubbed her snout and looked around the room.
"Do you remember old Straw?"
Frowning at the change of topic, Star nodded slowly. "Professor Shortcake? She was chair of the old Hippology department before it was split..."
Star's voice faded. She frowned and tapped her chin, struggling to ignore the cold spot that had formed behind her chest as she tried to work out where Indy was taking the conversation.
"Split up and merged into other departments," Indy finished, with a shrug. "It got me Doctor Roola as Reader of Hippological Studies, and it got Strawberry Shortcake on a fast-track to retirement. That conference you were so quick to disparage was part of my effort to establish links with the hippology departments of other universities so that we wouldn't start falling behind."
Once again Indy hopped from the couch and strolled to the window. "You see, the University wanted to promote cooperation between Hippology and Ancient History. It makes sense, given how often they examine the same things from different angles. Straw saw that as a threat to her budget, not to mention her personal influence over the field, and so she fought it." Indy glanced over her shoulder at Star. "And she lost. When they were finished she still had her seat on the faculty, but she didn't have a budget and she didn't lecture or research. Her entire department was a six by six office on the north-east corner of Sundancer, with nothing else to show for it than a plaque on the wall and a spot on the department roster. After a year her wages were cut because they were no longer commensurate to her role, as I think the Bursar put it, and eventually she retired."
"What's your point?"
"I should think that's obvious," said Indy. She turned her back on the window. "Pick your battles is the most superficial way to put it. Don't overestimate your power would be better. Straw's mistake was thinking that she had the high ground because she had tenure."
Indy lowered her head and walked toward the desk. She paused awkwardly at the spot where her drinks cabinet would have been, then turned away, shaking her head.
Star's ear flicked. "Not a cage, you said."
"Think of it as a more of a..." Indy's ears perked up. "Preparation for an expedition. Lots of hard work, lots of negotiation. Arranging your support before you set out is half the job by itself. It's all part of the great game."
"Their game."
"Their game," Indy echoed. She sat down on the floor and slumped against the desk, not seeming to care that he had knocked over several of Star's neat paper piles. "But if you want to carry on chasing your theories around the world, you need their money, and that only comes to you through the department budget."
"I have money," Star muttered. She slammed her hoof on the desk, shaving another pile of papers free. "Dammit, I'm herded to one of the richest families in Canterlot!"
"Land rich," Indy countered with a casual wave of her hoof. "But lets say you do find the money to fund an expedition. What will you do about logistical support? Who will brush coats back home to smooth over any unexpected bumps and keep that support flowing when you're stuck out in the middle of nowhere? Like it or not you need some sort of infrastructure back here in order to support you out there."
"If you expect me to kowtow to that bunch of useless cretins—"
"Did I say that?"
Star paused, one hoof raised awkwardly, while the reflexive answer died on her lips. She'd seen Indy wear that frustratingly knowing smile before. Reluctantly, Star lowered her hoof.
"You said play their game."
"That I did," said Indy.
"Then what's the point of all this? Either I quit now and lose it all, or I bite buttocks for the rest of my career and hope they lift tail long enough to let me go to Prance for the week." Star snorted. "That isn't a game I want to play, Indy."
"It's the price we pay for this life of ours, Star," Indy said. She smiled, oblivious to the chill that ran down Star's spine at those words. Indy stood, shaking the desk as she propped herself against it for balance. Her wings flailed briefly at the air , but then she was standing free. "I should be going. I have an airship to Aganippolis to catch in an hour and I don't want to be left standing on the dock again."
"But you just got here!"
"Sorry, Star. I have to go, or that sister of mine will have my other wing. I did tell you I was passing through." Indy frowned and tapped her chin. "You know it's odd, but now the topic has come up, I was certain your sister enrolled at the University the same year you did. What was her name again? Twinkle something?"
"Amaranth Sparkle," Star murmured. Her eyes fell to the desk and she briefly wondered what had happened to the photograph of her family she had brought with her. "She enrolled two years before me, through Celestia's School."
"Strange," Indy said quietly. She was smiling when Star looked at her. "Oh I'm getting it all mixed up, I suppose. It has been a long, long time since you were just one of the girls."
"It has," Star replied, nodding slowly.
"Well, time to leave." Indy turned from the desk. "I'll see you around, Star."
Indy shrugged her wings and trotted toward the door. Star watched her leave, trying to ignore the churning in her gut, but it was too much. She leaped from her seat and across her desk, landing on the far side with a loud crash of hooves. She trotted toward Indy, who turned at the sound and stood, smiling, to wait for her.
At first they just stared at one another, until Indy reached out to touch Star's shoulder.
"Visit me some time," Indy whispered. Star nodded and closed her eyes until she felt the cool of a breeze on her side, and heard the door close a moment later.
She ignored the emptiness and silence as she made her way back to the desk. Her chair invited her with its wide-stretched arms; Star flopped down into the thick padded seat and leaned as far back as it would allow, and then stared at the ceiling. After some thought, she pulled her body back toward the desk, to glare at its disordered contents. She leaned forward with her hooves splaying across the desk until her snout reached the blotter, and then she let out a long, slow breath.
* * *
As Star marched into the brightly lit Great Hall of the Clover Building, she found herself looking across the milling crowd of the great and good, the supposedly most intelligent and most refined of her species, and wondering if perhaps she should have just bucked it all from her back and simply retired when she had the chance. Perhaps she could leave and not tell anyone. Just disappear into the east. To Tartarus with duty and honour and legacy.
But no. It would break Lucent's heart if she left again, and she still had a few things to do first. There was always something else to do. It wasn't an option she decided, for perhaps the hundredth time that day.
Fortunately the ponies around her paid little attention to her scowl as she entered the hall. One more mare in swirling robes and a silly hat was neither here nor there to most, who seemed more interested in the lavish buffet and the drinks freely dispensed by the servers – all young and male, she noted, and likely students looking for a little extra credit.
The entire hall was filled with a never-ending sibilance as every pony present tried to make herself heard whilst vainly attempting to maintain the quiet atmosphere. The resulting hiss put Star in mind of the unceasing rain that flowed across jungles of Bokswana. She paused a moment to listen, letting her ears turn out the words and bask in the memory, until a voice called out across the noise, putting her in mind of a hooting ape lurking in some distant, gloomy canopy.
The Dean of Colleges rolled up as Star's attention returned to the present, a broad grin plastered across a face that was already glowing a faint pink beneath her white-frosted orange coat.
Star shook her head as she tried to focus on the Dean's words. "What?"
"I said good of you to turn up at last, Sparkle! I was starting to worry you'd forgotten!"
"As if I would forget something like this, Dean Quartz," Star grumbled, whilst tugging at the collar of her robe. "Why do they insist on making these things so itchy?"
The Dean laughed, at the same time snatching a pair of drinks from a passing tray. She pressed one toward Star and laughed again as Star's magic reluctantly tugged the drink from her hoof.
"It'd be a shame," Dean Quartz replied, lowering voice, if not her annoying presence. "Having the, ahaha, star of the show miss her own officiation? Too droll."
Star rolled her eyes at the bad pun and looked around the room. "A shame," she echoed.
"Still, good that you're here at last," Quartz continued, oblivious to Star's ire. "There's a pony I wanted you to meet before we begin."
She nodded toward the far side of the room, setting her shimmering mane abob. Star often wondered if Quartz added all the sparkles or if it was some sort of hereditary thing.
Before the thought could sink too deep into her mind, Star found herself thrust before a mare in a richly tailored pastel suit. She was even wearing trousers, which was unusual enough that Star found herself staring at where the mare's mark would have been. She was only able to look away when Quartz loudly cleared her throat.
"Excuse me," Star muttered.
"I see your reputation precedes you, Professor Sparkle," the mare said. She smiled, but there was little humour in her piercing golden eyes.
"I have a reputation?"
Dean Quartz laughed nervously and held up her free hoof across Star's front. "Nothing that you haven't heard already, Star, I'm sure. This is Lady Long, Permanent Under-Secretary for the Ministry of Foreign Relations."
"Delighted," said Lady Long, holding out a hoof. After a moment's hesitation, Star took it and gently kissed the tip. "How charming. From the way Orange Quartz spoke of you, I had expected at least one attempt at verbal abuse by now."
Star cast a glance at the Dean. "I can supply it if you'd prefer. We wouldn't want to disappoint our guests, would we, Quartz?"
"Now now, Star, let's not be—" The Dean coughed and turned to seize another drink from a passing tray, and Star took the opportunity to dispose of her own. How the University vintners had the audacity to call it wine, she would never know. "Let's not be too forward, yes? Why don't you tell Lady Long about this planned trip of yours? I'm sure the Foreign Office would be extremely interested in how long you plan to be away."
"Oh, that?"
Star paused and examined Quartz again. Something about her stance seemed off. There was an eagerness to her that just didn't fit the conversation. Long was watching Star now, frowning just a little while the silence stretched on.
The room seemed to fall silent. Star pursed her lips and nodded slowly. "Sorry to disappoint, Quartz, but I'm calling it off."
Dean Quartz paused in supping her drink and swallowed a large mouthful. She lowered her glass and stared at Star. "You are? But you were going to be gone for months! The faculty—"
Quartz's jaw snapped closed, like a badly maintained trap. She took another drag at her drink and quickly looked away, leaving Secretary Long to fill the silence.
"Forgive me for asking, Professor Sparkle, but what exactly prompted this change of heart? I had understood that your efforts to gain all the relevant travel permits were well in train. In fact my own heads of department tell me you were burning through favours at Martingale House like nobody's business."
"Don't remind me," Star grumbled. "I've probably blown any chance of decent support for the next few years. I'll be lucky if I can get a permit to visit Los Pegasus."
Despite being quiet, Long's laughter managed to cut through the background noise. Her smile remained as it died away. "You have to admit," she said, "it seems rather an abrupt move. What did you hope to achieve by it?"
Star glanced at Orange Quartz. The Dean had apparently decided to seek out another drink, and was currently haranguing one of the servers about his empty tray. Satisfied that her alleged superior was occupied, Star guided Lady Long a little distance away until the crowd had drawn around them.
Once sure they were out of sight of the Dean, Star leaned close to Lady Long and looked into her eyes.
"I don't want to be caged," she said.
Long's eyebrows rose a fraction. She looked from side to side, then back to Star with a bemused expression. "Caged."
With what she hoped wasn't a too theatrical sigh, Star reached out and plucked a drink from another passing tray. She took a sip, grimaced and shook her head.
"I'm an archaeologist. I'm at my best when I'm neck deep in a pit, scratching for bits of bone and pottery and trying to piece together some sort of story around them. I took this position because it offered me the chance to do that, but I can't do it if I have the University and Quartz over there breathing down my neck whenever I apply to go abroad." She paused, taking in Long's still-sceptical gaze, and took another drink. "You knew my predecessor, yes? Independent Path?"
"Oh, the unfortunate pegasus?" Long nodded. Her ears twitched briefly. "I was still a Deputy Director in Far-Eastern Affairs when she had the accident, poor thing. What about her?"
"The last few times I spoke to her, she tried to explain that the University has a habit of interfering with the activities of its departments if those departments aren't marching in step. They want the results of free research, but they want to be in control of everything. You can probably imagine the sort of pressure that can put on a pony."
"I can," Long replied. She looked around again. Star followed her gaze, pausing when she spotted Quartz in the distance. The Dean seemed to have completely lost track of where they were, and was currently trapped by the buffet, frantically peering around the room whilst trying to disengage herself from a conversation with another member of the faculty.
"In my case the majority of the department's research activity often requires travel to places that are rather off the beaten track. The formal arrangements for permits and diplomatic coverage are all handled through the University, and that gives them a pretty effective yoke if they think a pony is pulling off-kilter. If they don't like what Archaeology's doing, they can just take away our means to continue. I want to change that."
Now it was Long's turn to reach for a drink. She ambushed a passing server, though rather than choosing wine as Star had, she opted for a simple glass of water. On her return, Long sipped at her water once before leaving it to float in a faint green aura at the side of her head.
"We can't just pass out travel permits and technical support to anypony who asks, Professor Sparkle," she said. "If you're proposing a more direct relationship between your department and the Ministry..."
Star shook her head. "I want leverage, not favours, and I want the faculty to understand that it's in their best interests to take a more passive role in handling my department's funding requirements."
Long narrowed her eyes and sipped at her drink. She nodded. "Believe it or not, we may be able to accommodate that. You've done a fair amount of travelling, haven't you?"
"You could say that."
"Let me put this to you," Long said. "I am aware that you managed to successfully negotiate your way through the courts of a dozen kings, queens and rulers of various stripes in pursuit of your goals. You seem to have a particular ability to convince other beings to see things in a way that benefits you. Were the circumstances a little different, I'd argue that you wouldn't need the Foreign Office at all."
Star raised her eyes to the heavens and shook her head. "If only I could believe that."
Long paused a moment to study her drink, before taking another sip. She watched Star the whole while, never quite relaxing her gaze.
"Your reputation extends to more than just rude manners and a certain generosity of affection, Professor. There are parts of the world that we have only been able to normalise relationships with following your efforts to gain access. In my profession that sort of achievement carries a great deal of weight."
Again Long paused, to run a hoof around the lip of her glass. The thin wall of the glass rang beneath her hooves – silver-shod, an extravagance usually only sought by the extremely wealthy, either for show or to guard against rogue magic – and the water within the glass shook and waved gently at the sound.
"I propose an exchange," she finally said. "The Minister and myself shall have a few quiet words with your Archchancellor in order to clarify our expectation of the relationship between the University, the Ministry and the position your department might find within that matrix. In return..." Long looked up and smiled the same, humourless smile that had begun their conversation. "Your expertise shall be sought by the Ministry from time to time. Frankly, some of our officers could use a few months scratting around in the dirt."
"As long as I can continue my research."
"Oh you'll be visiting all sorts of interesting places, I assure you, Professor." Long held out her hoof. "Shall I consider this matter settled?"
Star stared at it for a moment, weighing her options. Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dean Quartz hustling through the crowd toward them, her face puffy and red from exertion and a few other more personal issues. Star waited until Quartz was in earshot before tapping her hoof against Long's. The sparkling tinkle of struck silver seemed to ring on even as Long returned her hoof to the floor.
"We can discuss the particulars at a later date," Long said, with a more open smile. She turned briefly to Dean Quartz and inclined her head. "Good to see you again, Orange."
Long's tail whipped through the air as she turned smartly to march away, and she was soon lost amongst the herd. Ponies all around were hustling toward their seats now, moving at some unspoken signal to prepare for the event, leaving Star and Orange Quartz momentarily isolated amongst a sea of pressing bodies.
"Star, what was all that about?"
"Just discussing trips abroad, like you wanted," Star said. She couldn't help but grin. "I was thinking, you know, I might visit Los Pegasus later this year. I think there's some sort of conference on foreign relations going on later in the summer. Do you think the University could stretch to that?"
"What—"
"Can't talk now, Quartz," Star said, ignoring the Dean's bewildered expression. "I have a position to accept!"
A voice rang out from the stage at the far end of the room; the Vice Chancellor was speaking, welcoming the visitors and wittering on about the achievements of the University. Leaving Quartz spluttering and confused, Star made her way across the flow of the crowd and mounted the stage at the front of the room, arriving just as the Vice Chancellor completed her speech.
The crowd rose in polite applause at Star's name. For some reason she felt she should be basking in it. The night had already given her everything she had wanted. Yet behind that, she felt the first inklings of what she had committed herself to. Star pushed back at the yawning sense of emptiness that came with the realisation, and trotted to the podium.
The crowd fell silent as Star looked out over them. Lucent was there, of course, right on the head table, watching her with those great big eyes of his. He'd been in the room longer than Star, working his usual magic amongst the great and good of Canterlot society; she'd made sure to keep him carefully out of her way, lest she was tempted drag him behind the stage to do something inappropriate.
"Thank you, Vice Chancellor." Star paused to clear her throat, ignoring the empty seats to Lucent's left. None of the rest of her herd had attended, aside from Crincile. Oh they had their reasons, but it was strange how sharply their absence cut.
She forced a smile to her face and began to speak.
"As I am sure most of you are aware, I am not particularly one for cleaving to tradition." A smattering of laughter echoed around the room. Star couldn't help but grin in response. "With that in mind, before I give my acceptance of the position so graciously bestowed upon me by this university I would like to begin with a toast, one made to all of you, and every pony I have known throughout my career."
Star paused as a quick-thinking server scampered up to the stage with a glass of wine. She even managed to thank him; he smiled just a little before returning to the crowd below.
"Truly I could not have climbed to where I am without the dozens of my colleagues who carried me here. Thanks to you, I find myself amongst the collected relics of thousands of years of history. From here I can see the entire world, and all of its beauty and splendour, just as my predecessor saw it every single day of her tenure to this ancient institution. I cannot express the strength of my feelings toward the faculty of this university, nor to the individuals who propelled me to this great and gilded height, and I can only conclude by reminding you all that each and every pony present tonight is responsible in some small way for the position I now occupy."
Her smile had faded as she reached for the glass. Star raised the cup aloft, and waited for the host of ponies before her to join the gesture.
"To each of you," she said, once silence had fallen again. "And to the future I must now face."