Chapter 1: Starving
The mood was somber as the settlers gathered around the small, rough and wooden table situated in the centre of the equally small, rough and wooden room. Though the walls were wood, the floor was concrete and on the walls were small digital frames of artwork, certificates and listings of schedules and work rosters for the week. The disparate technology gaps showed the difference between a border world colony filled with hopeful settlers to a bustling core-world megatropolis filled with busy bee businessponies.
It was not the poor lifestyle that had gotten these gathered settlers down. Neither was it the harsh conditions or physical work that had cast an ill mood among these settlers. No, these settlers were of a tough calibre. They knew the risks going in and they would bear the consequences. A settler knew about a desperate situation, but a settler was prepared. But in this situation, none could have been prepared for this.
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Winter Meadows carefully examined the various ponies around the room. Her gaze drifted from face to face assessing each of the ideas methodically as they were voiced aloud.
“We need ideas, we need resources to commit to.” The voice belonged to an venerable pegasus mare, one of the eldest to commit herself as a settler on a new world. Her application had read ‘got myself a taste for adventure, I did, and now I’m a hapless addict’. Manic—that really was her name—was hired on the spot, mainly because she was the best engineer they could find.
“Building the shelters now should be our first priority.” Winter switched focus to the earth pony as he slammed a hoof into the desk. Already he sported a slightly irked expression. Greens was a fairly recent settler that had come inbound on one of the last ships from the core-worlds. Despite the earth pony’s youth he looked tired and drawn. Winter frowned and she rubbed her eyes . We all did, she grimly reflected.
“We will starve, not three months in.” This time it was a unicorn that spoke. Lead scientist Dr. Quark was a soft spoken pony, but his expertise in weather prediction, agricultural sciences, even astrophysics was par none. Everypony in the room tended to listen when he spoke. “The solution is not viable,” he stated mildly.
“I don’t believe so, Dr. Quark, if we strictly ration and curtail the population…”
A gasp went around the room.
Winter could no longer keep silent. “You’re talking of leaving ponies behind?” she queried incredulously. Greens hesitated, then spoke slowly. For once, choosing his words with care.
“Desperate times call for desperate—”
Winter’s jaw hurt from gritting her teeth so hard. “We will not devolve into barbarism! We are ponies and we stand by the creed of the core worlds!” She made a cutting gesture with her hoof. It ended here.
Greens spluttered, visibly struggling to maintain a semblance of control. His mouth flapped open and closed a couple of times before he snapped it shut with a click and reluctantly took back his seat. Winter could still see him seething though, but from his darting eyes around the room, it was clear that there was no support. He broke the laser-like stare Winter had shot him and looked away. The twist of his mouth told Winter that he hadn’t dropped it, merely filed it away to bring up later. Hopefully, not in the near future.
Sunny was the next to speak. “Agreed,” she said quietly. “What you are suggesting is beyond a little dissonance, it’s chaotic. What are we to do? Leave those other ponies to perish in the coming cold?” She shook her head. “That would sow the seeds of sadness.”
Winter nodded, while she wasn’t part of the neo-Harmonic faith, she did appreciate their central tenants being mostly benign.
“Do I see any of you coming up with better ideas? If we don’t do this, everypony dies!” Greens snapped one last time. He glanced around the room before snorting in disgust, crossing his forelimbs.
And that was the truth of the matter. Winter knew that if didn’t do anything soon, there would be no second chances. There were no shuttles coming. There would be no aid in the aftermath of the war. The core-worlds were struggling themselves and they had barely any time to attend to the thousands of requests among the settlements among the fringes of the galaxy.
Nocturne was a planet balanced between valuable and expendable. The planet had the potential to become a garden world after a decade of terraforming, and warranted the protection of the core-worlds. However, the inhabitants on the planet were replaceable. If a settler colony perished, another would eventually be able to eke out a living later on.
The principles of harmony and giving were simply not practical in the expanded scope of the Equestrian Empire. Resources had to be prioritised. Settlers had pitched their luck of their own volition, help would be given when spared when available, but the settlers were on their own. Short of an outright attack, requests for aid would be filed in a dusty government department drawer to be processed in due time.
The ensuing silence was all anypony needed to hear to feel the gravity of the situation. That is, if anypony had the slightest sliver of doubt in the first place.
Winter took a deep breath. “I need to think,” she announced and the room fell silent. “Discuss among yourselves, I’ll try and come up with something.”
Winter closed her eyes. A quiet murmur filled the room.
She could hear the desperation in their voices. There was so much at stake here. Winter’s thoughts bounced around trying to think of a solution to the problem. Something that wouldn’t compromise anypony. She tried to think of the bigger picture.
Think big, she thought. Then break it down.
They were a small settlement out in the boonies. Technology was sparse and mostly outdated. Some of the critical systems were up to spec. Population management, the automated criminal control unit and the emergency distress beacon were all the latest models. The rest of the settlement, from agriculture to construction were lacking in the necessary technology to be fully self-sustaining.
They were down to managing the weather in ancient times, shifting clouds without cloud-seeds and kicking them for rain. Some of the ‘weather team’ had quickly grown fatigued, there weren’t any expert fliers around the assist with the ancient art of manual weather management. Only a few more billion credits and the settlement could truly flourish. They needed money. Enough to tide over the coming frost. Periodic seasons on this planet were extreme. Heat and cold flew hand in hand, but if they could change the atmospheric composition, they could mellow the storm.
The only question was, how would they make their money? Organic matter was the only thing they could produce, even the gross domestic product of this whole settlement was barely one hundred million credits. They couldn’t afford anything that could change the face of the planet. Not for ten years.
The problem always came down to money. Aid wouldn’t come from the the core-world, but they could purchase it from the Far Reaches. She shuddered, thinking about dealing with those back-stabbing space-debris. They’d do anything, even get them an Atmo-feed, but only if they had enough money.
What could they use? What could they utilise? What was around their settlement nearby?
Nearest settlement was Wazzoo, but that was a few systems away, definitely out of reach for their tech. If only they had a gating device. Even if that were Government-only…
Wait. There was something else Government-only and much, much closer.
When Winter opened her eyes, she returned to a room in chaos. Muted whisperings had become fevered shouting and lighting tapping had become stomped hooves.
“Everypony,” she called out clearly. The voices drifted into silence.
“I have an idea.”