Blackacre

by Princess Woona

Prologue

22 November, Y.C. 969
Canterlot

“Good evening; I’m Scott Ponney.”

At those five words, half of Equestria cocked an ear. Very few of them had seen Ponney in person, but his voice painted a picture as good as any: an Earth pony with conservative shading, perhaps a dignified slate blue, his whitening muzzle giving him just that extra dash of respectability. The rest of his face would be to match, of course; strong lines, slightly rounded at the corners, with a firm but gentle smile. This was a pony you could trust, a wise patriarch to half the nation.

“Tonight’s top story is the breakdown of trade relations with Blackacre.”

Ponney knew exactly how he sounded; if it weren’t for his carefully-controlled voice, he would have never become the lead anchorpony of the Evening Herald, Equestria’s finest radio broadcast. Anypony with a half-decent presenting voice could read off the newscasts for PNN, but it took a special something to work the Herald. He had earned that trust as a field correspondent during the badly misnamed Dragon Skirmishes, and earned his cutie mark in a chillingly memorable broadcast from the charred ruins of Appleloosa —

But that was fifteen years ago, and today’s world brought with it a new set of challenges. It was his job, along with his crack team of editors, reporters, and commentators, to bring the news to the average pony, to inform them, educate them, and maybe, just maybe, leave Canterlot a better place for it.

“With me tonight are Stony Brook and Tower Shield. Thank you for joining us.”

“Of course.”

“Our pleasure.”

“Over the past three weeks, the biennial Blackacre trade negotiations seem to have drawn to a complete stop,” he said, aware of the need to recapitulate for listeners who were perhaps not as attuned to the world as they should be. Radios were common enough, but the will to listen to them….

“With the previous agreements set to expire on the solstice, and no clear indication of what will happen after that, the question on everypony’s lips is what this means for Equestria. For first impressions, let’s turn to Stony Brook.”

“Thanks, and let me first say it’s an honor to be here tonight.” Brook paused, as if to gather his thoughts. They had in fact been gathered for hours — days, even — but it was still good form to wait a second or two before replying; it made it seem as if his perfectly-crafted response came as the result of only a few seconds’ consideration.

“A lot of ponies I’ve talked to say this looks like a no-win situation, and I think they’re absolutely right. Equestria depends on the southern region, a lot more than it seems. Fillydelphia might be our breadbasket, but Appleloosa apples are always in season. Going into the winter months, shipments from the south can make the difference for a lot of little towns like Ponyville, especially if the previous year’s harvest was cutting it close.”

“A valid point. Tower Shield?”

Tower Shield was an old veteran of the Royal Guard; Ponney and he first met as interviewer and interviewee, respectively, during the Dragon Skirmishes. Like Ponney, his voice provided an accurate picture of the pony; unlike him, Tower Shield’s voice was deep and full, that of a stallion still in his prime.

“Equestria does depend on the south, I will grant that,” he started, the ‘but’ as inevitable as clear skies after pegasi flights. “That said, Blackacre is by no means the only route through; the railroad through Blackacre down from Ponyville is simply the most convenient. There is another, though, running on the other side of Froggy Bottom Bogg, from the Baltimare Railroad to Dodge Junction, crossing the end of Rambling Rock Ridge. There is even a path from Appleloosa to Las Pegasus. It is one thing to be worried about Blackacre’s effect on trade; it is quite another to suggest it is the be-all and end-all of Equestria’s southern access.”

“A fair point,” interjected Brook. “And I don’t think anypony is saying that cutting off Blackacre — which is still the last-resort scenario! — would be a crippling blow to Equestria. Is it life or death? No, of course not; we saw that with the Bearlin Airlifts six years back.”

“Exactly,” rumbled Shield. “We can survive.” Any mention of the Airlifts brought a note of pride to his voice; when a weather mishap froze the small town, the Wonderbolts had kept it alive for more than three hundred days, the result of a daring plan he had personally crafted.

“But at what cost?” needled Brook, pressing on before Ponney could cut them off. “It’s not life or death, but what about the difference between four and three percent growth? Two percent? There may be no direct impact, but it will slow down the entire economy. The only question is by how much.”

“I think a lot of ponies think about it the same way,” said Ponney, ending the line of discourse to move beyond it. “If the negotiations aren’t successful, all of Equestria will feel the impact. The obvious question then is what can be done to ensure that doesn’t happen. Tower Shield?”

“This should not be a problem,” he said immediately, emotion getting the better of him. “Absolutely not. Blackacre has always been located exactly where it is, Equestria has always relied on food from the south as a winter gap-filling relief measure, and this has never been a problem before. Frankly, there is no reason why these issues should even be renegotiated yearly, much less be allowed to expire.”

“It’s not all about numbers,” said Brook, somewhat miffed. “There’s a political element in play. Blackacre is more than just a waypoint, and as its economy develops, it wants to make sure it can be a player.”

“You’re referring, of course, to the recent… election,” said Shield, uncertain at the word and generally sounding dismissive of the whole notion, “in which the legitimately appointed government was overthrown by a grass-roots movement to install a leader through a collective process.”

Ponney tensed slightly; they were broadcasting out of Canterlot, but a good portion of their listening audience came from smaller towns throughout the countryside, towns which might well have different feelings from city ponies on the concept of increased local leadership. The entire program was supposed to be neutral; though guests were able to say whatever they liked — just ask the dragon sympathizers they had on a month ago! — any assumptions should be made explicitly.

“That’s not quite what happened,” said Brook, restraining his annoyance. “The Blackacre Charter clearly states that the region reserves the right to select its own form of governance, just like half a dozen other Equestrian Charters do. It’s just that no one has ever exercised it before.”

“And why the Princess allows it, I will never understand,” said Shield sadly.

“It is their right.”

“A stupid right.”

“Perhaps, but theirs nevertheless.”

“Gentlecolts!” interjected Ponney. “Please. Back to the topic at hand.”

“Of course,” said Shield. “My apologies.” He went on after a calculated delay. “The best solution to this problem is literally right at hoof. Copy the last set of documents, sign them, and move on. Blackacre can levy its petty tariffs, and we can get back to bigger problems, problems like continued draconic aggression to the south. It is the work of five minutes.”

Brook scoffed. “I wouldn’t say —”

“Ten minutes?”

A slight pause; those listening in at home could well imagine Brook glaring at Shield for his flippancy. Shield pressed on.

“Renewing the old agreement would simply keep the status quo. Equestria gets its food, Blackacre gets its stability, and we move on to other concerns.”

“Would renewing the accords solve the problem?” Brook asked rhetorically, tasting the question. “In the short term, yes. But the fact that they’re even in question indicates, to me at least, that there are some bigger concerns already on the table.”

“This brings me to our last point for today,” said Ponney, the smooth transition an indication that the commentators had been motioned to silence in the studio. “The overarching concern is what these negotiations mean for Equestria, but Blackacre is part of Equestria. What do these trade quibbles mean for the mares and stallions of Blackacre itself?”

“It’s very simple,” started Brook without hesitation. “The Blackacrean economy is, relative to the Equestrian standard, poorly developed. The region is largely forested, without a broad agricultural base. There are few natural resources to support much by way of industry. It’s not even to the level of a cottage-industry economy, because the population density isn’t high enough to support that. There’s very little interaction with the rest of Equestria.”

“Aside from the vaunted trade routes to the south,” interjected Shield.

“Aside from those, yes.”

“And it has been so for hundreds of years,” Shield continued, pressing the offensive. “Blackacre’s domestic production is sufficient to satisfy domestic need; zero in, zero out. Frankly, the shipping tariffs in the current trade agreements we have right now are unnecessary.”

“Those tariffs help Blackacre pay for upkeep and maintenance of the roads and railway that those goods travel on!”

“And do any other regions levy such charges? Absolutely not! The fact that Blackacre is permitted to impose them in the first place is questionable at best.”

“The Blackacrean economy simply isn’t capable of supporting such upkeep without external help,” said Brook, an air of irritation in his voice. “The Law of Magical Conservation. Any task accomplished through magic will require at least as much effort as to accomplish it without magic. Why do unicorns walk when they could transport themselves? Why does Princess Celestia have a carriage? Because accomplishing tasks magically will, on average, require at least as much energy as doing it the hard way.”

“This is elementary,” sniffed Shield.

“So you should see where I’m going with it,” said Brook. “Without agriculture or industry, the entire Blackacrean economy is founded on magic. Anything they produce, anything at all, can be done cheaper elsewhere, must be doable cheaper elsewhere. Blackacre will never be able to compete with the Fillydelphia industries or Manehattan service sector.”

“They have carried on for hundreds of years without issue,” pointed out Shield. “Why change now?”

“Because they’ve been stagnant for hundreds of years,” pressed Brook. “They just want an opportunity for positive sum growth.”

“By extorting and regulating Equestrian trade.”

“By giving themselves a bootstrap injection of bits in order to create the industrial and service sectors which will become self-sustaining. It’s an investment.”

“Maybe to them, but I challenge you to find me a bank, any bank, with large-scale capital investment in the region! But that’s not the point — why not simply rely on what has been proven to work? Why risk change?”

“Because, to them, the risk is worth it,” said Brook firmly. “All of Equestria saw that when Blackacre exercised their Charter rights to elect their own leader.”

“Canterlot-appointed regional leadership is an institution,” said Shield with more than a touch of firmness in his voice. “An institution as old as Equestria itself; older, even! What could possibly convince them that they can do any better?”

“Right now, the status quo isn’t doing anything for them. These ‘timeless institutions,’ as you call them, aren’t working for Blackacre. They might have always worked for the other regions, but they’ve never worked in Blackacre — and if your vaunted institutions never did anything for you, wouldn’t you want to try something different for a change?”

Unspoken, unacknowledged, but still inexorably present was the single oldest institution in the realm, the one constant that had held Equestria together for nigh-on a thousand years, the one institution which was absolute and supreme, that which was unthinkably unimpeachable.

The institution of Princess Celestia.

Comments

[Diamond Sparkle]

I look forward to more,

[D-Bence35]

This is going to be good.

[Prane]

Year 969? So this happens about thirty years before season 1? And has [dark] tag on it... oh boy, I think I know where this is going. I need to see that, keep it up!

And I hope we'll see some Celestia in action!

[Vermilion and Sage]

I picture Ponney talking in John Bachelor's voice.

[xoid]

Two things:
1. The year is 969 Y.C. — Year of Celestia, I assume? If this is set before the show then Ponyville would’ve been around for the better part of 150 years and its agricultural output would dwarf any given podunk frontier town, but worse than that Appleoosa hadn’t even been around for more than a year as of Luna’s return.
2. I dislike ponies with human names without good reason (such as being raised in a foreign culture)… with the obvious exception of middle names since we have canonical examples of that phenomenon (like with one Pinkamena Diane Pie, for example).

Apart from those gripes I have to say that you’ve got my interest so far. It’ll probably take me ages to finish this since I’m prioritising stories I know are good, but from what I’ve seen so far I fully expect this story to join their ranks the moment I’ve caught up. I’ll refrain from up‐voting just yet but your prospects look promising.

---

and earned his cutie mark in a chillingly memorable broadcast from the charred ruins of Appleloosa —

“I wouldn’t say —”

Interrupted dialogue or exposition should be punctuated with a single em dash, flush to the text.

“This bring me to our last point for today,”

brings