//------------------------------// // V // Story: Ave Imperator // by Imperaxum //------------------------------// The trees gave way to a featureless plain. We arrived in Marstown late in the afternoon. Marstown reminded me of vaguely remembered pictures in a history book, something not of Haufen. The port city, a generous definition even given the context, was situated in a crescent of hills around a bay. Steamships crowded the water, smoke coiling up and mingling with the hazy cloud hanging over the whole area, fed by the xenos' shoddy imitation of manufactorums. The city itself was wood structures, stark and windowless, in haphazard rows. Public transportation was a quagmire of mud and stone, throngs of xenos moving about. The hills around were grimly bare of any vegetation save thin grasses, the stumps of trees rotting away. I knew what it so achingly reminded me of. The Wild West, pictures in a history book about mining - such harsh looking towns, divorced from nature and basic. It was quite pathetic to see. The scale of a Haufen hive city, or even the smallest demi-manufactorum, would put this place to shame. I had to suppress a wave of anger at the xenos' destruction of this land with so little to show of it. And what were the government buildings that one xeno had spoke of? There were no towering edifices to glory, proud statues, or ranks of banners. There was a modest flagpole and flag, colorful in contrast to the dullness of the buildings arrayed around it, the government section, no doubt. I wanted to scope that place out. The airship landed with somewhat less trouble than the last I'd seen of it, and I exited with little fuss, joining the crowds. Here suited xenos and adventurers mingled with clerks and less flagrant workers, heading to saloons and inns, offices and tenements. I boiled with hatred, remembering the words of the Primer, the Litany of Intolerance. The only thing that could keep me going in such a foreign land was this faith, this contempt. I pressed through the crowds, fidgeting with my lasgun, reviling my surroundings. I was thirsty, and this faith was tiring. I wanted a rest, and I headed for an inn/saloon combo, one of dozens. It was near the goverment section, anyway, as far as my navigation skills served me in this bustle. ~ Inside was a dark, expansive room, lit by candles and gaslight. I sat down at the bar and checked over wealth - half a handful of Thrones, and plenty of worthless credit chits. I was vaguely worried that I'd run out of money too quickly, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I wouldn't be sitting so peacefully among these xenos for much longer. I resolved to praise the Emperor more fully. I made my way over to the barkeeper, quietly ordered something cheap-looking. I plopped a single golden Throne down on the bar, smirking slightly at the dandies who were practically laying sacks of 'bits' for fine wine. Inflation based on remoteness didn't affect poor-quality beer anywhere, it seemed. I sat down at one of the big communal tables, this saloon apparently too new to have many private tables. I nursed the jug of alcohol, observing the occasional bar fight or scuffle as a stream of xenos came and went. I barely resisted the urge to join in a crack some skulls, fully aware I'd probably end up overcome by my simmering hatred, and stab someone with my bayonet. It was getting dark out when a new stream of xenos came in, flooding the communal tables. They were modestly dressed, probably clerks or scribes, or something - they came from the direction of the government buildings. One sat next to me, a female xeno. There was little talk from these newcomers, but I caught her glancing at me occasionally. It seemed to be simple curiosity, but I let a hand stray down to the bayonet clipped to my belt, just in case she got uppity. She didn't say anything to me, and a servant of the Emperor's servant doesn't let himself get scoped out like this. "Got anything to say?" I asked, with weariness that surprised me. She blinked. "No, uh, not really," she said haltingly, turning to her weak drink, then back to me. "Well, yes. Curiosity. Well met, stranger - I'm a clerk from the taxation bureau of the Canterlot Monarchy." "And? Plenty of strangers about. Why are you here?" I asked, perhaps being a tad too rough with the last word. I was too tired, in brief retrospect, to want her away just yet. "Oh, well, the barracks for us officials haven't been built yet. We stay in these inns," she gestured upstairs. "I mean, here. In these Fringes," I corrected, gesturing out the window. The clerk rubbed her forehead. "It's a job, it's just a job. My special talent isn't shuffling papers all day." I huffed. "Well, work with praise, clerk." "Yeah," she said, sighing, "never imagined I'd waste my youth so far from home." She perked up. "What are you here for? Never seen anything quite like you." "I'm here to serve the Emperor," I replied automatically, then cringed at how stupid that sounded. The Emperor's name deserved better that trite phrases. "I mean, I'm here, uh, exploring. I keep my Emperor's name close at heart, and He guides me." I glanced around warily. "Even surrounded by xenos and their filth. This land is getting destroyed to its core, and you have a pathetic bunch of wooden buildings and smokestacks to show for it." She didn't get flustered. "Yes, well, if you ever make it across the ocean, then you'll see splendor. The companies and the government make beautiful, rich things with the wealth of the Eastern fringes. The real winners aren't those adventurers, they're the ponies back home. Everypony who sets hoof in this forsaken place is losing." I laughed, "You get it. At least us wretches back in Haufen can look up and see the towering heights of the hive cities and the aquilas and statues." The clerk displayed that maddening interest in my home as they all these xenos did. "That's sounds fascinating! Care to tell me about it?" But she asked of the glory of the Imperium, not my formless memories of... Washington? Darrentin? "Well, it's glorious!" I exclaimed, pride rising in my chest. "It might be hellish for a xeno like you, but we live in unimaginable heights and industry. All sing their praise to the Emperor and exalt He who sits upon the Golden Throne. Glory be!" She eyed me oddly. "Sure sounds like this... can't exist, not on the other side of the globe or something." I glowered. "Of course, Haufen is as real as this lasgun-" I hefted it, "or the aquila on my helmet. They didn't just come into being without the Emperor's will." The clerk frowned, but leaned forward in interest. "Either this is incredible, or this is a, uh, somewhat embellished story." My pent-up rage at this world and the injustice of my stranding here nearly boiled over. The clerk shrank back at my glare. "Wait, no, please- please don't look at me like this. This is a civilized place," she stammered, then swallowed. "oh Celestia, I'm such a coward. What I wanted to say was-" She stopped when I sunk into my chair. What servant of the Emperor would threaten a scene in a place that held no harm, to a xeno who spoke the truth, such as they could manage it? I- oh, God, I'd once been a mild-mannered man... "Are you alright?" she asked, tilting her head in sympathy. I bristled at the concern, but deep down, I appreciated care from another thinking being, xeno or not. Lying to myself could not go on. But the Emperor was not a lie. "Go on," I sighed, sitting back up. "Well, I love stories. I want to write them- stupid thought, I know," she placed a hoof on her backside, an image of what looked suspiciously like animal fodder there. "I just think your story sounds great, as much of a story as it might be. I'm saving my bits for a bargain typewriter from the general store. You sound so sure of everything, like you've thought it out." Oh God, had I thought it out. Oh Jesus, I- I- What had I become? What was I, contemplating killing things who had done me no wrong? Thoughts of the Emperor pushed back, gave light to the truth that these xenos wronged me by their defiance to mankind- I quieted those thoughts. I thought of home, of the long hours spent writing and thinking of Haufen, drawing a map out of boredom, impressing and scaring friends - friends! I shuddered. What about Emma, who looked up to me as a big brother even in her accounting job in Seattle? Mom, dad, living out the end of their lives in our little two-story house in Darrington? Pine sap in the forest, fresh air by the sea, staring in wonder at the enormity of the Pacific that stretched out before and the long nights gazing into the sky. I shook and a cold sweat came over, fear and disgust and the emotion of two days of utter insanity. I wanted to cry, wanted to punch the table or do something, but I just sat there, shaking, thinking over and over. Not in praise of the Emperor. I love to make stories too. "Are you alright?" the pony asked, reaching out with a hoof. I clenched my teeth and nodded, then sunk into my chair, shaking my head. "I love to make stories too," I said finally, quietly, "they dominate my life, sometimes. I guess I'm not very mentally healthy at the end of it all. Just look at me." The clerk cocked her head, and lay a hoof on my shoulder, drawing closer. "I love stories. They distract me from the drudgery of my life. I wish sometimes I was out there in the real Wilds, making my own stories-" she paused, sighed, "but I'm a coward. I couldn't do it. So I shuffle papers and dream of other places. And sometimes, I dream that my writings might get me somewhere better in real life." "Yeah, heh, yeah," I sighed, a cold feeling in my chest, "thanks." The clerk looked around, and I followed; it was dark out, ponies were heading upstairs. "Oh my God, I'm a mess. I'm not even from here," I said, mostly to myself. The clerk listened intently, though, something that lightened my heart. My heart had been very dark indeed, I was just realizing. All it took was a talk. "Well..." she trailed off, "you have anywhere to stay?" "No," "You could stay in my room, the carpet's softer than the mud outside. Want to talk about this?" she offered. I eyed her suspiciously, but not hatefully. "Why would you offer that?" "This is the most interesting thing to happen to me in my entire time in the 'wild' Fringes. I- I want to see it through," the clerk said. "I'm Chaff, by the way. Sixth of my siblings." She got up from her seat. "Of course!" I said, with feeling, heady with having a real conversation. The barricades of hatred came down, for now. "You got any stories of your own you're working on?" "Oh, yes! I'll tell you all about them!" I followed her upstairs, and my heart was light. I fidgeted with the aquila on my neck for the first time, suddenly aware of its role in sending me here. Thank God for coming into this saloon. The future was utterly unknown, but I looked at it with more than a grim fatalism now. Still, though, my costume had become real by some force. Perhaps the Emperor did protect... I treated that thought was caution, but I let it stay. I had to be careful with it. I was man from Darrington, Washington, and I'd be damned if I forgot that. We talked through the night.