• Published 14th Mar 2014
  • 1,024 Views, 20 Comments

The Moon Has a Harsh Mistress - levarien



Luna has opened a new frontier for Equestria: Her very own moon. Ponies from around the country have joined her on an adventure to create and sustain a colony on the moon.

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Ch. 3: S.C.A.D.W.I.D.

Derpy rubbed the towel over her still damp grey coat. A shower had been just what she needed to start a new day, especially after the unpleasantness of the previous evening. The water had been less than crystal clear due to the ever present rust and there was far too little of it, but still, it was a cathartic experience. She sat atop her bed on her haunches, with her slate sitting in front of her. She fanned her wings out and let them air dry while carefully tapping out a letter on the device.

My Little Muffin,

Your mommy really messed up this time. Don't worry, I'm perfectly safe, in fact I'm doing really great at my new job. The problem is that mommy didn't pay close enough attention when they were telling me how long I would be away. I know I promised I would be back by the end of the summer, but it looks like it might be longer; much longer. I'm still going to write to you every day, and I'm doing everything I can to get back home as soon as I can.

The truth is, mommy lied to you-

Derpy dragged the tip of her hoof over the slate and tried as best she could to sugar coat the depressing truth of the situation. Writing to Carrot Top had been infinitely easier than doing so to her daughter. She knew her former sister-in-law would have no problem taking care of Dinky: She adored the filly, even if her rotten brother could care less. Derpy eased her hoof from the surface of the slate before she shattered the screen. After a few deep breaths to ease her anger, she continued with her letter.


Amber slammed the door to Trixie's quarters behind her, stuck her hoof into her open muzzle and muffled an extended scream. She heard the unicorn's dresser opening along with other sounds associated with a pony getting ready for a busy day. "Whoever said that honesty is the best policy is full of it," she said to herself as she began heading for the dome. She absolutely abhorred the idea of Trixie confronting the garrison alone, but damn her, she was right. Finding and neutralizing any lingering herbicide had to be done, and those prisoners knew how. She passed the ops center and poked her head into the open door.

"Morning sunshine," said Digger, "ain't it a beautiful @#!&ing day in paradise?" The bulky stallion lounged in a high backed seat and nursed a small bottle of orange juice that she hoped was only diluted with the usual copious amount of water, and not the rocket fuel he distilled from the scraps he somehow got his hooves on.

"Yeah, yeah," muttered Amber as she swept past him. She picked up her slate from where she had tossed it the previous afternoon and deposited it into her beaten up old canvas saddlebag. "Look Digger," she said, "something happened in the dome last night, and the LA guards got involved."

"The True Loony bull&#!@?" he asked, "I saw Felina working her magic on the wall. Poor @%&!ing thing said there ain't nothing that's gonna take that stuff off. Last I saw she was getting a few grinding tools."

"Yeah well, the paint was the least of it," said Amber, "I've got a favor to ask you, and the answer to whatever vulgar suggestion you're about to make is a solid no." The portly stallion grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "Trixie should be here any minute," she said, "I know you're supervising the later shifts, but I need you to go with her to the garrison and make sure she doesn't do anything foolish. You know how she gets around guards."

"You know how I get around those &#!holes too," said Digger with a dark scowl.

"Yeah," replied Amber, "and I'm betting you can control yourself if it means getting your hooves on one of these." She reached her muzzle into her pannier and produced another bottle of wine. "You know how much weight they let us bring up with us," she said, "so you can imagine how little of this I have left." The truth was, she actually had another half a case of her and her mother's favorite vintage, but he didn't need to know that. "All ya have to do is stand there, look imposing, and make sure Trixie doesn't do anything that might make things worse for everypony."

Digger reached across the display table and pulled the bottle to himself. "Fine," he said, "but if she lets loose, you know there's nothing I can bloody well do about it."

"Honestly Digg," replied Amber, "I don't think she's capable of much more than a spark or two. She wants answers, though, and I guess I do too. I just wish she would wait a day or two." Amber had already argued the point with Trixie for half an hour and decided that having Digger there was better than nothing, if only marginally so. "Let me know when you're done," she said while patting him on the shoulder, "and you'll get your reward." She swept the bottle out of his reach and back into her saddlebag. With a wink to the stallion, she trotted out of the operations center and made her way down the long hallway that led to the land she had vowed to make productive.

Sin Station was beginning to wake up, she thought to herself as she watched ponies getting back to the jobs they knew best. Amber smiled and nodded at a miner who she had been supervising just a few days earlier. The poor stallion had been completely out of his element in the fields and struggled with the most basic of chores: Amber wasn't quite sure how anypony, especially an earth pony, could mess up a simple watering detail. The renewed vigor in the stallion's gait and heavy mining shoes draped over his withers was all Amber needed to see to deduce that he had been reassigned to the mines. Unicorns that had been magically pumping water into the makeshift irrigation pipes they had built were now busy tinkering with something in the walls. Magical sparks arced from their work, filling the air with smell of ozone. Things were finally starting to get back to normal.

Amber emerged into the sunlight and looked proudly at the small slice of the moon she had made into a working farm. Her workers were already busy fanning out to the various troublespots she had identified on the map she sent to their slates. Through their feedback and her own surveys, Amber had grown a sort of second sense when it came to her dome, and she knew that it was in better shape now than at any point in the last few months. Turning to the cloud generator, she saw the reason why.

"Hey there Ace," she said to the pegasus, "ready to get to it?"

Derpy looked up from her slate and nodded while placing the device back into her satchel. She hung the pack on a small hook sunk into the side of the dome wall and walked over to the waiting earth pony. "You bet," she said while zipping up her flight suit, "I was just writing a few letters." She flexed her wings and did a few light stretches before jumping into the air.

"Whoa there," said Amber into her headset, "you're awfully eager today. You know nopony would've minded had you slept in after last night."

"Scadwid," replied Derpy over the magical link.

Amber arched an eyebrow in confusion and tapped the small black box her headset was connected to. "Sorry what was that?" she asked, "there must have been some interference on the line."

"S.C.A.D.W.I.D," said Derpy, pronouncing each letter, "Stop crying and deal with it dummy. A little piece of advice from Grampy Doo." She came to a bouncing hover a dozen meters above Amber. "It's my motto I guess," she said, "it reminds me to keep moving forward; to not dwell on setbacks I can't control, although I'm starting to think it's not the best of advice. I said the same thing to myself when I decided to head up here in the first place."

Amber walked the short distance to the cloud generator and began turning the release valve, allowing water to start rushing to the heating coils. "I dunno," said Amber, "I wish it'd happened differently, but you're really saving our flanks here. Maybe add something about taking some time to think through your decision?" The hiss of vapor entering into the magical heart of the generator made quite the clamor, forcing Amber to clamp her hooves over her ears and the earpieces. "At any rate, if I were you, I sure as hell would be itchin' to be as useless as possible after the heap of compost that's been dumped on you in the last couple of days."

"Don't tempt me," laughed Derpy as she began gathering the slowly expanding cloud. As the concentrated cloud vapor poured out of the vents in the dome wall, she flew tight circles around the growing white mass, forcing it into a quasi-sphere. "So where do we start?" she asked.

"Hit the northeast sector with a light drizzle to start," said Amber, "the greens soaked up everything you gave them yesterday, but they still look stunted." She pulled out her slate and swiped her hoof across her large map of the dome. "Try to save most of this first cloud for the tomatoes," she said, "they won't survive the week otherwise."

With the last wisp of cloud-stuff trickling out of the generator, Derpy placed herself between the cloud and glass dome panel and planted her forehooves into the soft, forgiving surface of the heavy rain-maker. With as delicate a touch as possible, she began forcing the cloud forward, careful not to push so hard that she sank into the wet, spongy interior. "So what are the chances I can go visit Selene at some point?" she asked as she drifted across the dome, "I really didn't get to see much of the city at all on my way here."

"Well, I was thinking you could use a break," said Amber, "so I planned the next couple of days watering schedule as aggressively as possible. If you can give me a couple of late days, we can knock off early on Sunday." Amber double checked her schedule and nodded in satisfaction. "If you don't mind, I'd love to accompany you to the city," she said, "I've got a little competition with my brother, and I've gotta send him some photos and yield figures."

"Sure," said Derpy, "I could definitely use somepony to show me around. Which brother?"

"5th oldest," replied Amber, "Barley Brew has always been a bit of a braggart. Baby sis has to put him in his place."

"Celestia alive, how do you keep them all straight," asked Derpy.

"You wanna hear the song again?" asked Amber with a snort of laughter, "you practically begged me to stop last time."

"No!" shouted Derpy through the link, "My ears still hurt from before."

"You should hear the family reunion chorus," joked Amber, "let's just say that my musical ability is inherited."

The morning sped by as the two mares chatted and traded gibes. Amber worked well with Daybreeze, but the stallion had been so keenly focused on keeping from going into a tailspin, that he was hardly the best conversationalist. It was refreshing to use the com link for something other than periodic course corrections and cloud size checks. The only downside was that Amber found herself slacking on her field health assessments. It was during a frenzied check of the slowly recovering southwestern quadrant that she noticed Trixie and Digger walking back from the garrison. Rather, she saw Trixie storming her way across the field while Digger strutted down the central path with a cocky grin plastered across his muzzle. She recorded the drastically improved size of the pea pods on her slate and galloped to catch up with the pair of ponies before they disappeared into the habitation wing.

"The gall!" shouted Trixie, "the unmitigated gall of that jackbooted thug! He was lucky Trixie was so tired!"

"C'mon Trix," laughed Digger, "So you got big leagued by a @!#%ing helmet head. I thought you could handle some #@!% talk better than that."

"What did you do?!" asked Amber incredulously, "I begged you Trixie, I got down on my knees and begged you!"

"Trixie merely demanded her right to question the bastards that tried to take the food from her ponies' mouths," growled the unicorn, "and when they refused, Trixie provided incentives for them to change their minds... repeatedly."

"She made them sneeze so hard they pissed their...suit...thingies!" laughed Digger. "They were stomping around and all you could hear was *squish* *squish* *squish*!" The stallion slapped the unamused unicorn on the back and continued in a fit of laughter. "The big'n almost made a move, but yours truly persuaded him otherwise. Amber, if you had told me I could have seen that, I'd have gone without your little 'incentive.'"

"We don't need this Trixie," warned Amber, "not when we're just getting everything back to normal."

"Normal!" sputtered the unicorn, "Normal?!" She stopped in her tracks and wheeled around on Amber and Digger. "Have you forgotten what 'normal' is? Trixie knows you love digging in your dirt and rocks, but that isn't why we're here."

"We're here because we pissed off somepony," grumbled Digger.

"Here, you oaf!" shouted Trixie, repeatedly stomping her hoof on the ground, "on the moon! We didn't come all this way for... for... this!" She poked a half full bushel of peas her hoof and levitated a few of the pods into the air in front of her. "If we wanted to spend our days growing these, we could have just stayed back in Equestria," she said while shaking the beans out of their pods.

"We have to eat Trixie," said Amber calmly, "and that means somepony has to grow the food."

"Trixie knows that," she spat back, "but can you honestly tell Trixie that this is how you would cultivate the lunar soil? Trixie remembers something about somepony's dream of a Lunar Vineyard."

"It's still happening," countered Amber. Trixie had a way of getting under her skin, and when you grew up with a dozen siblings, bickering becomes second nature. She knew that if she started trading barbs with the frustrated unicorn, both of them would end up angry at the other. "But some of us have responsibilities that have to come first," she said, trying her best to temper her anger.

"Oh really?" asked Trixie. "If you are referring to those shriveled vines you've been ignoring, Trixie has seriously overestimated your green hoof." She spiked the remains the pea pods into the ground and began skulking back towards her office. "She lied to Trixie," muttered the unicorn, "great adventure, Trixie's flank. Trixie would probably be world famous by now, had she stayed in Equestria."

"Fine," shouted Amber to the retreating unicorn, "you win. Of course I didn't think this is how I'd spend my time up here." She reached down and gently retrieved the remains of Trixie's tantrum. "They told me I could try and produce wines nopony had ever tasted," she said. "Earthlight Wine, Trixie: Grapes grown during the long dark periods when the sun is hidden behind the earth. I even had a few barrels ready to cold ferment, before we had to start rationing it out as funny tasting grape juice." She dug out a divot in the soil with her hoof, pressed the peas into the fertile loam and covered them back up. A sprinkle of water from her canteen and some gentle massaging of the small bump in the ground resulted in a small green shoot pushing its way out of the soil. The calmness she felt when using her races' unique way with plants washed over her body, allowing her to remember the happy day of honest work and conversation with Derpy. "So yeah," she yelled, "I'm disappointed too, but you know what?" She waited until the unicorn stopped and looked back at her expectantly. "SCADWID," she said with a Cheshire grin.

Amber reached to her comm unit and pressed the transmit button with her hoof. "Hey Derpy," she said, "once you're done with the carrots, see if you can squeeze a few drops over the southwest, sector seven, I'll be here waving you in." She spun around and began trotting towards the mostly brown southwestern fields. "You're right Trixie!" she shouted excitedly, "it's time to get things back to abnormal!"


"Please Flam, allow me to carry something," said Felina as the stallion placed yet another tool in his chrome covered toolbox, "I feel ever so useless right now." She reached for the harness to the cart in which they had piled several of the large flat panels Flam had been working on for the last two days. She had wanted to stay in the workshop to see what he had been tinkering with, but her maintenance crews needed every horn and hoof they could get, and her expertise with the magical systems that kept Sin habitable was in high demand. She began slipping the harness's collar over the wide neck ring of her crimson colored extra-biome suit and was wiggling the girth into place when the harness began loosening under the influence of a green magical aura.

"You shouldn't have to suffer for my crazy idea," said the stallion as he tried to lift the black faux-leather straps over Felina's head.

"Now, Now, Flammy," she said while flaring her own magic into her horn, "you asked for my help, so I really must insist you leave this burden to me." She reached out to the harness with her own magic and felt it wrapping around the stallions as they each grabbed at the tack. She worked with unicorns every day, and knew well the feedback that magical conjunction induced. Waves of apathy, anger and regret washed over the petite mare, causing her to wince and nearly lose control of her magic.

The stallion seemed to have a similar reaction and for a moment, the harness hung halfway on and halfway off of the mare. Felina took advantage and added her slight physical strength to her magical might and yanked the tack back into place. "How about this," said Felina as she held the harness in place, "allow me this trivial task, and I shall allow you to accompany me and carry my tools on one of my shifts."

"Fine," said Flam as he released his grip on the harness. He turned away from Felina to grab their helmets. He floated the larger of the two over his head and lowered it carefully over his horn. He twisted the headpiece until a click and the hiss of air let him know a secure seal had been established. He floated Felina's smaller helmet and turned to place it over her head. He carefully, almost reverently pushed her raven black and white highlighted tresses inside the wide neck of her suit and slid the helmet into place. He turned back to his workbench to make one last check for anything he might have forgotten to pack. A hoof on his shoulder drew his attention back towards the mare. Her lips were moving but he couldn't hear anything. He leaned forward and touched the perfectly clear flat crystal face plate of his helmet into Felina's.

"-hear you, can you hear me?" she asked.

"I can now," he said. "Sorry, I should have mentioned that earlier. I had to cannibalize most of the comm units to get enough magical flow diverters to get the cloud generator in working condition for Ms. Doo. The only ones left working are in her and Amber's employ."

"So we have to touch helmets to talk?" asked Felina.

"I'm afraid so," replied Flam.

The mare smiled and winked at him. "How intimate," she said. "So, shall we head out?"

"After you," said Flam, his cheeks matching his mustache in color.

Felina pulled away from his helmet, strolled over to the wagon and attached the guide poles to the harness. She gave the heavily laden cart a test pull and instantly regretted her earlier stubbornness. Considering the weak gravity they operated in she imagined that pulling the cart would be a simple task. "What did he put in here?" she asked herself. With a bit of struggle, and some helpful pushes at the back of the cart from Flam, she was able to pull the wagon across the long room and into the engineering workshop's large airlock.

She waited for Flam to seal the small bay doors before reaching up with her magic and twisting a pair of large valve wheels. It took the small room several minutes to depressurize, during which she and Flam remained vigilant for any signs of leakage from their suits and helmets. A green bulb above the hatch began glowing with a steady pulsing light, indicating that the airlock had completely cycled. Flam disengaged the seals on each corner of the wall and engaged the small motor that swung the bulkhead open upwards from hinges along its upper edge. He moved back behind the wagon and soon, the two unicorns and their wagon emerged onto the western edge of the Oceanus Procellarum.

Even though she had spent the morning preparing herself, the vastness of the grey plain threatened to trigger a panic attack in the petite mare. She quickly looked down to the ground and focused on the rocky landscapes as it passed under her. Flam occasionally nudged the wagon slightly to the right or left until they were a about a kilometer clear of the airlock. When she felt the cart suddenly become more difficult to pull, she rose her head and looked back at the stallion as he held out his forehoof and motioned for her to stop. She followed his pointing hoof to an assortment of equipment and scaffolding sitting alone in the grey lunar dust a few meters away. Flam bounded around the cart and touched his helmet to hers.

"Let's leave the cart here," he said, "I don't want to risk shifting the soil too much, I spent an hour leveling the ground yesterday. Too much concentrated weight might throw the alignment off." Before he could turn around to begin unloading, Felina reached her hooves to his helmet and held it in place against his own.

"Flammy, dear," she said, "I think it's time you explain what we're doing out here."

"Oh, right," said the stallion, "well, Trixie was right, we'll never be able to generate enough magic to send back to Selene while we're using it to keep our own systems running; there just aren't enough of us unicorns. We need another way to power our basic systems, so that more of our gathered magic is diverted directly to Selene. Turn a negative draw into a positive feed."

"Yes, yes," said Felina, amused at the stallion's newfound enthusiasm, "you're not talking to Digger and his goons. I want details Flam."

"Oh," said Flam, "sorry Ms. Scassinatore. Trixie and the others usually just want everything in laypony terms. I do forget about your technical prowess sometimes." He raised his hoof to his face to tug on his mustache, but found the side of his helmet instead. The mare's giggle caused him to blush and clear his throat before continuing. "The 'side-project' Trixie mentioned was always more of a parlor trick. My brother and I would stop at small inns on the road and employ various scams to swindle the simple ponies out of their bits."

"Confidence ponies?" asked a surprised Felina, "I would never have guessed."

"Well, Flim was always the silver-tongued one misdirection is his forte," said Flam. "I myself was tasked with creating props to his specifications. That and the musical numbers." Felina saw a slight shake of his head within his helmet, as if he was trying to shoo away a sour thought. "Flim overheard a burly barkeep complaining that the candles he used to light his cellar had an unpleasant fragrance," continued Flam, "so Flim bet him that he could replace them with ample light without the use of fire, fireflies, or magic."

"I imagine the barkeep was skeptical," said Felina, "I've read of a few fish that can glow in the dark, but nothing bright enough to light a cellar."

"Skeptical and greedy," replied Flam, "Flim bet all the bits we had left, and more on top of that, that he could light that basement before the end of the day. So he comes back to the wagon which I, of course, was trying to make road worthy again. He tells me of his boast and tasks me with coming up with something while he works the bar for side bets."

"Your brother seems a bit full of himself," said Felina, "either that or he had considerable faith in your talents; not that he shouldn't have."

"It was how things worked between us back then," said Flam, "still is I suppose. He gives me a challenge, I think our way out of it. Need to fleece a few ponies out of their orchard? Automated Cider press machine cobbled out of old junkyard train parts. Need to fleece a small town out of their treasury? Cobble together an elevated train that runs on a single rail. I'm not particularly proud of what we did, especially as it usually blew up in our faces, but it was intellectually stimulating, to say the least."

"There's pride to be found in accomplishing difficult tasks," said Felina knowingly, "even less than reputable ones." Most ponies who came to the moon shared her practical views. Most citizens were after a new start for one reason or another, and it didn't really behoove anypony to act high and mighty.

Flam smiled weakly and nodded in agreement. "So Flam gives me an afternoon to accomplish the seemingly impossible," he said, "I spent the first hour racking my brain for other sources of illumination. I thought a magical battery would work, but if there were any other unicorns present, they would certainly have seen right through it." He sat back on his haunches, drawing Felina to hers, lest their helmets lose contact. "I crawled back under the wagon and began fixing the axle, " continued the stallion, "it was a hot day, and it was nice to be in the shade, and well... I fell asleep. The next thing I know, I'm waking up with a slight burning sensation in my flank."

"Oh really?" snickered Felina, "I hear they have medication for that." Flam rolled his eyes and pointed at the chrome covered toolbox he had brought with him. Felina picked it up with her magic and deposited it between them.

"This ridiculous thing is the only possession I brought with me to the moon," he said, "Flam gave it to me when we were colts. He paid for it with proceeds from our first successful grift." He fondly patted the top of the dented metal box and flipped open the pair of clasps that held it together. "By chance, the sunlight hit a dent on the open lid," he said, "which, also by chance, reflected the rays back at my sleeping form. Thanks to the parabolic shape of the indentation, the sunlight was focused on a small spot on my flank, creating a very intense heat."

"Oh," said Felina, "Mirrors! You must have set up some mirrors to catch the sun and reflect it down into the cellar! As long as you did it before the sun went down, it would win you the bet!"

The stallion blinked several times in confusion. "Hmm," he said, "I guess that would have been easier. No, I decided that I could attach a fan blade onto a small magical dynamo I carried around for night time shows, encased the entire assembly into a metal box, the bottom of which I filled with water. The mirrors I managed to procure, were used to concentrate the solar energy onto the box, heating the water into steam and using it to turn the fan. The dynamo, free from needing any magical impulse to spin its inner workings, generated magic-free energy, which I fed to a glow bulb by means of a long coil of insulated copper wire." He gasped, took a deep breath and looked expectantly at Felina.

"I guess that's one way to do it," said the mare. "Did it work? Did you win the bet?"

"Of course it worked, but the barkeep and the patrons thought using a magic dynamo was cheating," said Flam, "I tried to explain that no magic was actually being used, just a machine that could accept magic as an input, but they wouldn't accept that. It's a good thing I finished the wagon before inspiration struck. Flam had managed to get about thirty ponies to bet on the scheme, and it only ever takes one disgruntled pony to stir up a mob. It was on to the next town, with a pair of black eyes between us."

"So all of this..." said Felina, motioning her forehoof at the half-constructed array of mirrors.

"Is the very same idea," said Flam, "on a much larger scale. Placing the turbine in the vacuum has proven to be the most difficult obstacle, but a carefully calibrated condenser and sufficient insulation should do the trick, at least for this proof-of-concept prototype."

"So what do you need me to do," asked Felina, "just remember, I don't do windows."

"Well, as you can see, attaching these highly polished mirrors into place has taken up most of my time," said Flam, "If you can take over that task, I can focus on setting up the turbine. Truthfully, it's not particularly complicated; I feel guilty taking advantage of a unicorn of your intelligence and talents for something so trivial."

"Nonsense," said Felina, "If this is as important as I think it is, we need to give our very best, and that's me and you. I guess you can go back for Trixie, but I think I'm far easier to work with, and prettier too."

"Yes you are," mumbled Flam as he stared into her eyes. "I mean... yes, you are the best."

Felina smiled and stood to her hooves before helping the stallion up from the dusty grey ground. "Let's get to work," she said after placing her helmet next to his, "I would very much like to see this work." Flam agreed and pointed out to her the various tools and how each mirror was to be attached to the frame he had already constructed. For a pony her size, construction on this scale would have been difficult, but thanks to the light gravity, she was able to lift the large panels with ease, both with her magic, and with her small hooves.

"He was right," she said to herself as she held the first reflective panel into place, "this is pretty simple." Each panel was to be mounted onto the frame and aimed by simply adjusting the depth at which each corner bolt was tightened into the frame. The next few hours settled into a comfortable rhythm as Felina walked back and forth between the frame and the wagon. She even found that the open space didn't bother her as much as she feared it would: Not being able to communicate with anypony made it easy for her to concentrate her vision on the panels, or the ground.

She concentrated on attaching each panel and left the task of aiming the array to Flam. As she used the impact driver to screw the last bolt of the next to last panel into place, she looked over at the stallion. He was standing in the center of what had become a roughly hemispherical array of mirrors. The large black box he had been tinkering with now stood nearly three meters high. A black panel leaned against the side of the box and Flam himself was hoof deep in insulated tubing and copper wiring. Magical sparks flashed from inside the hidden machinery illuminating the grin plastered across his muzzle.

Felina laughed inside the silent confines of her helmet and began cantering back to the wagon for the final panel. She made the mistake of looking up from the ground and the endless void stared back at her: No walls, no ceiling, nothing but an empty grey plain stretching into the distance until it met the infinite black horizon. Conscious thought fled the mare as her eyes rolled back into her head.


Flam hoisted the access panel into place with his hooves and used his magic to screw in the fastening bolts tightly with his old rusty screwdriver. Without looking, he floated the tool back into the chrome box. He subconsciously tried to rub a foreleg across his brow, succeeding only in depositing some fine lunar dust onto his helmet. He took a few steps backwards and surveyed the nearly completed solar generator.

The jet black box that housed the turbine and condenser would have to be periodically cleaned, and the mirrors would need to have any stray dust removed on occasion, but all of that could be ironed out with subsequent models. For a proof-of-concept, he had to admit that it was an amazing job of scaling up his parlor trick. Looking into the curved wall of mirrors, he reminded himself that the most annoyingly time consuming job was still ahead of him: adjusting the mirrors so that they would reflect the suns energy on as small an area as possible.

It was while inspecting the mirrors that he saw the reflection of a red heap on the ground next to the wagon. For an instant, horrific images of what the vacuum could do to a pony flashed through his mind. He spun around and launched himself into an awkward set of bounding hops, kicking over his prized toolbox in his haste. He crashed down next to Felina in a spray of grey dust. She was slumped onto the ground face first, her helmet buried into the dirt. As gently as he could, Flam pulled the mare on to her side and exhaled the breath he had been holding when he saw the clear crystal face mask intact and uncracked.

He placed the side of his helmet against her chest and tried to listen for a pulse; for breathing; for anything. Hearing nothing, he carefully turned her helmet to his and pressed his facemask to hers. "Felina," he said, his voice cracking, "say something." He held himself there for several seconds before laying her back down and looking back towards the station in a panic. "No time to go for help," he said, "and no way to contact anypony." He stared down at the motionless mare and nodded as if accepting a challenge.

As the petite mare levitated from the ground, dust trapped in the folds of her suit cascaded to the ground. Flam, careful to keep her head stabilized, maneuvered the unconscious mare onto his back, her legs straddling his flank and her helmet laying on his withers. Bands of green magic latched onto her hooves and anchored her in place while the stallion began bounding across the lunar landscape. Between holding Felina in place and trying to keep himself from tripping over the moon rock littered ground, Flam struggled to keep a steady pace.

"I never should have said anything; never asked you for help," he said to himself between gasping breaths, "better to keep my mouth shut like always. Celestia knows I would deserve this, but not you; never you." The mare limply bounced on his back, her unconscious silence seemingly agreeing with and condemning Flam. "One comms unit," he moaned to himself, "all I had to do was cobble together one damn unit."

He had carefully chosen the site for his solar collector to maximize exposure to the sun, not for easy access. Even though Sin Station sat squarely in the middle of Procellarum, the greatest of all the lunar seas, Flam had still managed to find a relatively large hill upon which to work on his project. He nearly tripped several times trying to descend into a small valley that led to the northern side of the station and the airlock he so desperately needed to reach. With half his attention on keeping Felina from slipping off his back, and the other half absorbed in mental self-flagellation, it was a minor miracle that he found himself within a stone's throw of the workshop airlock door.

"Almost there, Felina," Flam said as he picked up his pace. He felt a twinge of pain in his right foreleg as it unexpectedly sunk into the soil farther than he was expecting. Wrenching it from the small sinkhole, he ignored the pain and continued his awkward sprint. He slowed as he reached the airlock and carefully maneuvered under the raised door, making sure not to clip his or Felina's head on the hanging metal bulkhead. He released his magical hold on the mare and used his magic to slam the door to the ground to begin the repressurization cycle. The hiss of rushing air slowly became audible, finally replacing the drumming of his heartbeat in his ears. He stared at the glowing red bulb, willing it to switch off and for its green companion to illuminate.

When the airlock finally finished its cycle, he slammed his forehoof against the hatch wheel, sending it spinning freely on its well maintained bearings. Flam pulled at the door with his magic and his free hoof, fighting against the slightly higher pressure of the airlock. The door swung open, sending a gust of wind into the workshop, scattering several sheets of parchment across the room. He carefully stepped over the threshold and carried Felina to his large assembly platform. Loose tools and equipment slid away and scattered onto the floor in a wave of green energy. He twisted his helmet loose from his suit and tossed it into a corner before gingerly depositing Felina's still motionless form onto the knee high platform. Flam climbed onto the table and knelt down on his haunches . With all the care he would give to his most sensitive equipment, he twisted her helmet loose and dropped it to the ground behind them. He leaned over and placed his ear to her muzzle.

"Thank the princesses," he whispered when he heard and felt the mare's short rapid breaths. He reached behind her neck and released the clasp that held the neck ring in place, splitting it in half to reveal the zipper that ran down the central seam of the suit. Flam began unzipping the long seam along her chest and belly. He had just freed her forelegs from the suit when the small hoof he held lashed out and kicked him in the eye. Flam staggered backwards and fell off the low table. He rolled over on the cold metallic floor and reached for his aching face.

"Felina," he said raising to his haunches, "what happened to-" He quickly shut his muzzle when he saw the mare staring back at him in terror. She backed off the table slowly and squeezed herself underneath the long workbench that ran along the length of the workshop. Her eyes darted back and forth across the room, and her breaths came in rapid, ragged gasps. "Easy now," said Flam. He lowered himself to his belly to fit underneath the bench and slowly crawled towards the panicking mare. "Everything's okay," he said, keeping his voice as low and calming as he could. Felina continued to retreat underneath the workbench until she was huddling in the corner, her back pressed against the walls and her forelegs wrapped around her chest.

"It's me," said Flam as he crawled within hoofs reach, "It's your friend Flam." He held his hoof out to her. As her eyes finally came to a focus on his hoof, she reached out a shaky forehoof and touched it to his.

"Flammy?" she asked, her voice cracking. Before he could answer she grabbed his hoof and pulled herself towards him. She wrapped herself in his front legs and buried her muzzle in his red and white striped mane. He could feel her still rapid breathing on the back of his neck.

"Come on," he said, trying to slide out from under the bench, "I think the prudent thing to do is to get you to the infirmary."

"No," said Felina. She squeezed tighter and hung onto the stallion, preventing him from standing.

"Felina, you went unconscious out there," said Flam, "you have to see a doctor."

"No I don't," she said quickly, "just... just let me stay like this for a few minutes, okay?"

"She doesn't appear to have any obvious injuries," thought Flam, "a few minutes probably won't alter any treatment she receives." He sighed and patted the back of the mare's head. "Alright," he said, "but can we talk? Would you at least let me know what happened?" He felt her head nod on his shoulder. She didn't speak immediately, but it bothered Flam little as her breathing started to slow down.

Felina turned her head so that her temple rested on Flam's shoulder and her eyes looked at the wall underneath the bench. "I don't handle open spaces very well," she said, "I won't bother you with the details, but sometimes, when all I can see is open spaces, I have horrible panic attacks. At their worst, they cause me to hyperventilate and pass out."

"We've been outside before," said Flam. "You and your team helped me replace the bulkheads on the garrison expansions last year."

She gave her head a slight shake. "It's all about concentration," she said. "If I can prepare myself for it, and make sure I don't lose my focus, I can hold the fear at bay. Something distracted me out there today, and I doubt you could find a better spot to get an eye full of nothing than that hill."

"Agoraphobia," said Flam. "I believe that's the scientific term. An irrational fear of open spaces. These things usually have a psychological cause. Would you like to talk about it?" He felt her grip tighten around his withers and thought that he might have overstepped his bounds.

"Maybe later," said Felina weakly, "I'll just say it's a very rational fear, and leave it at that for now." She snuggled her petite frame into him and smiled as the stallion stroked the back of her head with the side of his forehoof.


"Trixie is the most spectacular magician in all of ponykind! Her knowledge and wisdom are only matched by her grace and humil---zzzzzzzttttttkssshhhhhhhhhhhhht-"

Trixie groaned in frustration and shook the recorder, hoping to knock some sense into the malfunctioning device. It clicked and continued to produce static. Trixie stopped feeding her magic into the device and tossed it into her empty pack. She had spent the day making sure everypony had their marching orders for the next week, something she normally would have done towards the end of their abbreviated weekend. Nopony truly had much in the way of a day off, but Trixie and her managers did their best to rotate schedules so that a day or two of rest could be found every few weeks. There would be no rest for Trixie, and her busy day of preparing for an ill advised trip to the Lunar Authority Headquarters in Selene became slightly longer.

Trixie abandoned her packing and trotted out of her quarters towards the engineering workshop. Amber had told her about the increasingly happy mood around the station. Trixie had to admit, the change was striking: She hadn't even been spat at once during the course of the day. Marvel of marvels, even one of the burly miners respectfully nodded her head towards Trixie as she passed the delver's barracks. Were she the type, Trixie might have started whistling as she turned into the side passage that led to the workshop.

"Flam," she said as she strolled into the entrance of the long room, "Trixie's recorder is on the fritz again. Trixie needs the spare... By Celestia, what happened here?" Her gaze swept across the cluttered surfaces of the workshop benches but failed to spot the unicorn stallion. Gadgets and gizmos sat in a half disassembled state, their exotic innards exposed to the open air. "Trixie thought she had broken him of this sloppiness," she mumbled to herself while tip-hoofing around scattered nuts and bolts that were left on the floor. She spotted a seemingly pristine recorder hanging from a hook above the workbench and reached for it with her magic. After testing it to make sure it was functioning, she placed it in her pack and hung the damaged recorder in its place.

On her way out of the room, Trixie frowned and picked up a pair of helmets from the floor and set them on the low table. "Trixie is certain he knows how much work goes into one of these," she said, "next time he gets a piece of Trixie's mind." She was halfway to the hallway when the sleeve of a particularly dusty extra-biome suit slid out from underneath her hoof as she walked over it. Trixie grunted wordlessly as she began picking herself off the floor, making a mental note to show the stallion several of her more uncomfortable dweomers. The glint of silver underneath the workbench caught her eye, causing her to nearly flop back onto her stomach. One unicorn, half clad in a spacesuit, dozing under a bench in the workshop she could overlook, but two, chest to chest, their arms entwined, broke Trixie's brain. She shot up to her hooves and shuffled out of the laboratory and back down the hallway, cursing her rotten luck and all the damnable lessons in honesty that she had received the last few years.


Derpy held the slate at foreleg's length, trying to see the map in the most abstract way possible. The confusing tangle of dotted, dashed, solid, striped, and crosshatched lines bewildered the pegasus as she tried to make sense of the legend. She looked up, intending to ask Amber for some guidance. The other two mares were still going on about some bet they had made. Derpy, still quite intimidated by Trixie, decided try and decipher the arcane map on her own one more time.

"I dunno Trixie," said Amber, "I'd normally be the first to accept victory, but are you sure you saw what you think you saw?"

"Trixie isn't some naive filly," said the eponymous unicorn, "does she have to draw a diagram?"

"Maybe you just misread it is all," replied Amber, "I saw both of 'em in the mess this morning, each sitting as far from the other as they could manage. Plus there's that shiner on Flam's eye." Amber loaded the last package into the small cargo compartment on the Zoom Tube car and closed the cabin door. "Maybe they fell asleep after a long shift out in the grey," she said. "Heck, maybe Flam made a move, and maybe Felina let him know what she thought of 'em."

"Trixie knows what she saw," said the unicorn, "and she won't let you say Trixie tried to cheat you. When should Trixie schedule her day of... ugh... field work?" Derpy thought she saw Trixie shudder at the mention of manual labor.

"Well if you're gonna be all stubborn about it, let's make it the week after next," said Amber, "the newest load from Artemis' reclamation plant should be in by then."

"Stupid farmers and their stupid honesty," mumbled Trixie as she examined her slate, "at least it's not the rocks again." The car began its steady acceleration down the Tube, leaving the three mares alone in silence.

"Hey Amber," asked Derpy, seizing the lull in the conversation, "can you help me with this map?"

"Sure doll," said Amber, who hung her forelegs over the back of Derpy's seat, "anything in particular you wanna see while we're here?"

"I'm not sure," said Derpy, her eyes fixed on her map, "I guess the area around this place you're taking me first?"

"The LA Headquarters?" asked Amber, "It's not much more than apartments for the burrocrats and helmet heads to be honest." She pointed to the large square block on the western quarter of Selene. "I would think the Skypark would be more your speed," she said. "Imagine an enclosed glass bridge with flowers and hanging ferns crossing between two of those big skyscrapers."

"That could be fun," said Derpy doubtfully. Her hoof hovered over the pad hesitantly before landing on an area just off the main Zoom Tube line from the Lunar Authority complex. "What about this place," she asked, "The Silversun Strip?"

"Hmm," grunted Amber, "well, if your idea of a good time is a game of chance and some watered down cider, I guess Silversun is the place to be." She noticed the crestfallen look on the pegasus' face and waved a hoof in protest. "Don't let me ruin it for you though," she said, "It's still a nice enough place. I just don't really see the attraction of some of the shops there. Here, you just follow the auxiliary rolling road here and you'll be there in no time."

"Thanks," said Derpy, "how about that Skypark thing, it looks neat too."

"Absolutely," said Amber. She reached over Derpy's shoulder and began giving her a virtual tour of Selene. Derpy found herself quite amazed that the seemingly grounded Earth pony farmer was so enamored with the more artistic sights of the Lunar Capitol. Over the next few hours, she received descriptions and step-by-step directions to all of the more aesthetically pleasing sights Selene had to offer, along with a few art galleries that, she had to admit, sounded very interesting. She had found that Amber Waves had quite the talent for communication. Her voice had that confident tone said, "I'll never steer you wrong."

Trixie even chimed in and offered up a few suggestions, mostly focused on the best eateries that could be found around the city. "Can't hold it against them for having better food than us," she said in response to a question from Amber, "but yes, it's another inequity."

"There it is," said Derpy pointing out of the front window. The regular clear panels on Tube walls provided momentary views of Selene as it began to grow on the horizon. Derpy swallowed dryly and marveled at how something that had filled her with such awe only a few days earlier could now fill her heart with such dread now. "Do they even know?" she asked absently. "Do they even care what you ponies have had to deal with?"

"Hopefully," said Trixie, "and if they don't, Trixie is here to remind them."


Imposing. Trixie really couldn't imagine a more suitable term to describe the towering stone monolith that they approached. Each massive stone, hewn from moon itself, stood nearly twice her height and four times her length. Even with the gravity difference, Trixie marveled at the amount of magic and muscle it had taken to move so many into place. She shook her head ruefully at the fond memory of working together with the princess to move several of those foundation stones into place. "The Stone," as she and her mentor had called it, sat alone in a ward dominated by much smaller apartment buildings that followed the rest of the cities familiar silvered metal aesthetic. The entire section of Selene had grown around the massive building. The Stone rose from a perfectly square foundation and slightly tapered as it rose fifty meters above ground level. Even though it was towered over by the larger skyscrapers and absolutely dwarfed by the Serenity Dome, the monolithic building had a solidness to it that made everything else in Selene seem ethereal and wholly insignificant. It was always supposed to be the place where one would look and say, "If there is one safe place on the moon, it is here."

She left Amber and Derpy behind to take the informal tour of the main floor's correspondence distribution and employment centers. Her target was in the floors above. As the glass walled elevator lifted her high above the crowded atrium, Trixie reached into her panniers and switched on the recorder. There was no music. Trixie had fought for there to be elevator music. "Bad for unit discipline," muttered the unicorn, "feh. They sang plenty back in the day."

The glass box opened into a well lit, white walled hallway. Two of the ever-helmeted guards stood motionless at the far end, ebon lances held vertically before them. Trixie stepped off of the elevator and sauntered down the hallway, putting to use her well practiced haughty walk. Her hooves rang out against the bleached white stone floor. Before she was halfway to the pair of guards, their lances swung down, barring passage through the doorway.

"Lulamoon, Trixie: Facilitiy Admisitrator, Sin Station," said one of the guards in its artificially modulated voice. "State your business."

Trixie rolled her eyes and walked until her muzzle was inches from the crossed lances. "Trixie is here to speak to Moonburn," she said. "Trixie understands that he is in charge of the True Loonie Task Force." The two guards remain quiet and motionless. "Tell him that he owes Trixie a favor," she said to fill in the silence. Trixie knew they were relaying her messages. The helmet heads were infuriatingly rigid in their demeanor, but dealing with them was rather straight forward: They either helped you, or told you to move along. She took the continued silence as proof of the former and idly lifted a hoof to inspect it for small cracks.

The door slid into the wall revealing a lithe bat pony stallion. His species' dark grey coat and leathery wings were hidden underneath a short cut purple overcoat fastened at the chest with polished silver studs in the shape of crescent moons. Moonburn looked older, Trixie thought. His short, precisely cut dark blue mane was no longer the unkempt windswept mess it had been years earlier. He'd been a young officer when she first met him. Truthfully, he was the youngest officer, and as such was often made the bearer of bad news. The princess had many times exhibited an almost Pavlovian response to Moonburn's arrivals, equating his characteristically turned down dark flight goggles with bad news. Trixie had some amount of sympathy for the guard, and would frequently volunteer to relay bad tidings to her mentor.

He stuck his hoof underneath the crossed lances and lifted up. "Trixie!" he exclaimed, "how long has it been?" The guards raised their lances back to their previous positions and resumed their statuesque stances.

"A few years," said Trixie as she walked through the open doorway after Moonburn, "too many probably, not that Trixie had much of a choice in the matter."

Moonburn led her through the seemingly empty hallways of the upper floors. "You were always welcome Trixie," he replied, "nopony would have kept you from visiting." He stopped in the middle of a hallway and pressed his hoof against a pressure plate on the wall. A doorway slid open, revealing a modest office, roughly the size of Trixie's quarters back in Sin. A Ponykin stood in one corner, clothed head to tail in purple lacquered armor plates. "I suppose this isn't a social call," he said while sitting behind his faux wood desk. He left his dark goggles over his eyes, despite the softer lighting in his office.

"Not as such Corporal," said Trixie, "Trixie understands that you're the pony to see when it comes to the True Loonies."

"It's Inspector Lieutenant now actually," said Moonburn with an obvious lack of enthusiasm, "and yes, I get to chase after a bunch of nutcases who actually refer to themselves as lunatics." He unhooked several of the buttons of his coat and kicked his hooves onto the edge of his desk. "Is this about the two morons I have in lockup?"

"Why else would Trixie risk coming here?" asked Trixie rhetorically. "You obviously know what happened at Sin, so tell Trixie: What have they told you?"

"Not much," said Moonburn, "none of the Loonies we get our hooves on have much to say other than their usual ramblings. Nonsense about 'knowing the princess's true plan,' etcetera, etcetera." He pulled a folder out of a drawer and placed it on the desk. "They're cousins; third wave arrivals; hauled cargo along the rolling roads before the Zoom Tubes came online." He pushed the folder over to the unicorn who quickly levitated it in front of her face and studied it intently. Moonburn coughed violently for a few seconds, causing Trixie to look over the folder with a raised eyebrow. "You really shouldn't worry about these idiots Trix," he said while patting his chest with a hoof, "petty mischief and graffiti are hardly worth your time. They'll probably be released within a couple of days."

Trixie slammed the folder down on the desk and shoved it across the surface. "Mischief and graffiti?!" she shouted. "What kind of fly by night operation are you running here?"

"You do realize that means something completely different to my kind don't you?" he said with a grin.

The joke caused Trixie to lose control of the professional veneer she promised herself she would maintain while in Selene. She slammed her forehooves on the desk and used them to lift herself out of her seat. "I'm glad you find this so funny Burnie," she said, using the stallion's most hated pet name. "They dumped poison over Trixie's fields and assaulted Trixie's new pegasus! Your guards took Trixie's ponies' statements and the herbicide canisters that they were found with!"

Moonburn gathered the scattered pages of the incident report and scanned through them one more time. "There was nothing about that in here," he said, "just the usual vandalism complaint." He went into another fit of coughing and wheezing, falling out of his chair and leaning over on his desk. Trixie softened her glare and reached across the table to lay a hoof on the stallion's chest. "Just a tickle in my throat," he said, waving off her concern. "Look, I don't know what went wrong here, and I apologize for that. Let's head over to the holding cells and find out what we can." He wobbled on his legs as he walked around the desk. "I think a walk would do me some good anyway."


"We live to serve, your majesty," said Diaphanous Veil, "we will not fail you again."

"See to it that you do not, Veil," replied the disembodied voice, "I do not need to remind you how little room for error exists in my plan. Better tools can always be found." The purple line that stretched across the magical display pulsed in time with the princess's angry words. "And do you know what a proper tool does, Veil?" asked the princess. Before the unicorn could respond, the line stretching across the monitor turned into a bonfire of reds and oranges, jumping across the screen as the voice shouted. "A proper tool does what its owner tells it to do! Tell me Veil: Who owns you?"

Diaphanous Veil dropped to her stomach on the dusty floor and pressed her horn against the ground. "You do, my princess," she said, "mind and body."

"Do I?" boomed the voice. "Because it appears as if you think that you know how best to proceed. I told you to leave Lulamoon alone!"

"Your majesty, I just thought that one small push would leave Sin Station ready to revolt," said Veil, her voice wavering, "After the Authority used your likeness to announce the new quotas, I thought-"

"You do not get to think!" shouted the voice. "Listen well Diaphanous Veil. Those traitors and usurpers in the Authority depend on stupidity like yours to further grind all of my subjects beneath their hooves. Now you've led that damned unicorn right into their clutches."

"Trixie?" said Veil as she raised her head slightly, "she's nothing without you my liege. My men saw her collapse with their own eyes. She's a powerless leader of the most useless colony of ponies on your whole wide moon."

"You listen to me, you sniveling worm," growled the voice, "stay away from Lulamoon. As we speak, she is poking around The Stone, looking for answers; looking for you. You will avoid her like the ponypox. If I hear your name in the same sentence as hers, you shall envy her current position once I reclaim my throne."

"Yes your highness," said Veil, gritting her teeth in frustration. "As I said, I live to serve." It truly wasn't fair. Had those two idiots made sure that the pegasus wasn't in the dome, she would be receiving her mistress's praise in place of this tongue lashing. Sin would have been ripe for the picking. At the very least, it would have forced the Authority to show their true colors in a crackdown that would have rung out across the moon for its harshness. There had to be some way back into the princess's good graces. A knock at the cellar door drew Veil's attention from the flickering screen. She bit back a curse. She had left instructions with those idiots: She was not to be disturbed under any circumstance.

"You still are of some use to me Veil," said the disquietingly calm voice. "You will continue harassing the Authority. You will spread the word of revolution. You will remind everypony that the moon is mine, and only I can keep the Authority from wasting their hard earned food and goods on those parasitic Equestrians."

"Yes your highness," replied Veil. The princess's words pressed down on her head. As if the great alicorn had reached through from whatever lair she had hidden herself in and ground her hoof into the back of Veil's skull. Her horn bent painfully on the ground and her vision narrowed to dark tunnels. As quick as the pain had come on, it vanished. Veil raised her head and panted heavily as she inspected the now blank screen. More knocks, this time more insistent, drew the mare to her hooves and up the stone steps that led out of the cellar.

"What is it!" she shouted at the tuxedoed stallion perched above the camouflaged trap door.

"You have a visitor," he said nervously, "she asked for you by name."

"And you didn't tell her to beat it?" shouted Veil incredulously. Thoughts of Trixie leading a squad of Lunar Authority Troopers down on her head flashed through her mind. She used her magic to grab the skinny stallion by the lapel and slammed the side of his head down on a nearby roulette table. "I. Don't. Exist. Remember?"

"She said you told her to come find her here," protested the stallion, "she said she met you a few nights ago, in a field."

Diaphanous Veil stopped throttling the earth pony and took a step backwards. As he stood back up and rubbed his cheek with a hoof, she reached out and smoothed down the collar of his tuxedo. "Take her to my private booth," she said, "and bring a carafe of the finest cider we have." The stallion nodded quickly and nearly ran towards front door. Veil trotted through the Shoot The Moon Lounge, past the gambling tables and well apportioned bar. She nodded at several of the patrons and even managed to keep a sneer from appearing on her muzzle at the sight of a known LA functionary sitting at one of the dining tables. She ducked into her luxurious corner booth and pulled the thick curtains shut behind her. Wrapping her silk, flower print Kimono around her body with her magic, she quickly straightened her mane with her hooves. Satisfied that she didn't look like somepony who, moments before, had her face ground into the floor of a dusty cellar, Veil settled into the corner of her booth. A grey hoof poked in between the dark curtains and pulled them apart.

The wall-eyed pegasus warily stepped inside the booth and let the drapes close behind her. She looked half ready to bolt, especially when she looked Veil in the eyes. "Before you disappeared, you whispered to me that you could get me home," she said while sitting on the edge of the opposite bench. "How?"

"I have my ways Ms. Doo," said Veil, her muzzle turned up in a smile. A plan took form in her mind. One, that if executed properly, would have her firmly back in her mistress's good graces. "If you can be a useful asset to me, I can make just about anything happen."