Starworks

by Sanctae

Chapter 2: Summer Sun Celebration Official Overseer's Checklist

2 - Summer Sun Celebration Official Overseer’s Checklist

Harsh lights. Ignore the stares. Hostility. Nothing new.

What? A pony can’t change their opinion?

Questions. I have answers. Don’t want to hear it. Just want to hear what they want to hear.

Don’t get angry. Deep breaths. Drink of water. Warm. Stale.

Slimy weasel of a question. Gets a round of applause. Fat, satisfied grin. A foal playing with matches. Pathetic.

Irresponsible.

After. She’s there. How did it go? Don’t want to talk about it. Her look hurts more than the questions.

When did I get so...

Let’s just go.

* * *

The buildings of Ponyville receded as she walked, the flattened terrain and busy soundscape falling away in favour of rolling hills. The dry air whispered around her, the silence broken by the hard, rhythmic crunching of the gravel underhoof. The uneven path wound its way out of town, cutting a stripe through arid fields and wilting hedgerows, tucking between the brittle, lonely trees scattered amongst the yellowing grasses. A faint, summery haze of seeds and aimless insects clouded the path as she carefully picked her way towards the orchard, just beyond a white picket gate at the path’s end.

She rested her hooves on the splintered, whitewashed wood, savouring the unusual feeling of the material, and looked over into the orchard. The path unravelled itself in the dying grass ahead of her, little more than a track worn out through use as it rambled up to the hilltop. A chunky farmhouse, crumbling brick supported by a gleaming metal exoskeleton, perched against the sky, a sturdy island in a sea of apple trees. The regular lines of trees were broken at intervals by white marquee tents, large enough to fit maybe ten ponies.

“Hello?”

The word died in the silence, hollow against the sprawling fields, as she fought against the absurd reflex to leave the silence undisturbed. She tutted in embarrassment and irritation, shaking her head as she nudged open the gate, feeling the shuddering complaints from the aging hinges.

The grass bent under her hooves as she made her way between the trees. The bumps and stones underhoof were a novelty, a change from the even flagstones and regular cobbles. There was something about the...organicness - she winced at the non-word - of it that she liked. It was peaceful here, the wind rustling through her coat, billowing her mane gently out to the side. The valley spread out below her; splotches of yellow and orange, a few flecks of green, and the blocky greys and whites of Ponyville. Even the hulking, gunmetal domes and turbines of the humidification plants dotting the distant heathland seemed a natural addition to the landscape.

She went to the nearest of the marquees, nosing aside the canvas flap and pushing her head through the shimmering wall behind. Her breathing fluttered at the unexpected humidity, water beading on her face and her vision smothered by a thick layer of mist; the far wall a ghostly shadow unless she ducked down or stood up on tip-hoof. She ran her eyes over the rows of shallow trays on long, clinical tables, water gurgling through a thin layer of soil, with saplings spaced evenly along them.

A patter of rain echoed softly from around the nursery, as clusters of petite rainclouds orbited lazily around their saplings, gravitating to thin metal aerials wrapped round the stems. The soft blue hue of the numbers and figures hovering next to the first budding leaves cast an eerie glow into the cloud layer. A buzzing hum came from a bare metal box by Twilight’s hoof, a ‘Pegassist 3’ apparently, connected to both the barrier and to a water pipe that probably ran under the valley to the nearest humidifier. The miniature clouds emerged, fully formed, from a funnel on the side of the box like cartoonish puffs of smoke.

She pulled her head back through the field and let the flap drop as something caught her attention. The faint hiss of leaves in the wind, the imperceptible gurgling of the hydration systems threading the base of every tree, the faint rumbling baritone of the distant humidifiers, the rush of the wind in her ears and...there...a sharp, hollow thunk that echoed through the trees.

She licked her lips nervously as she followed the regimented lines of trees towards the sound. She was not particularly looking forward to this, being rather asocial at the best of times, and dealing with earth ponies always put her a little on edge. She sighed; it couldn’t be helped. At least she was here on Royal Business, so hopefully that would count for something.

Up ahead she could see the source of the rhythmic thumping noise; an orange earth pony was making her way slowly down the line of trees, running up to each of them at a gallop. At the last second, she would pivot and slam her hind hooves, encased in tall, white boots, square into the centre of the trunk; the attendant readouts briefly flashing red. The apples shook loose, dropping into baskets placed at the base of the trunk where they were quickly collected by a little yellow filly sporting a cute, red bow in her mane. The sound of happy banter drifted on the breeze.

Twilight, now a polite distance away and wary of the fact that she was, for all intents and purposes, trespassing, cleared her throat uncertainly.

“Good afternoon, I’m sorry to have intruded. My name is Twilight Sparkle and-”

Before she knew what was happening the orange mare was striding briskly up to her. She fought a flailing tide of panic as each purposeful step brought the other pony closer, certain she was about to be bucked in the face, flinching as the mare reached out a hoof to grab her foreleg. Suddenly her hoof was being pumped enthusiastically up and down, taking the rest of her along for the ride.

“Well, howdy-doo, Miss Twilight, a pleasure makin' your acquaintance. Ah’m Applejack. We here at Sweet Apple Acres sure do like makin’ new friends!”

While Twilight supposed that this was certainly preferable to what she had been imagining, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d end up losing the same amount of teeth, as they chattered together in time with her hoof.

“F-f-r-r-r-ien-n-n-nds? A-a-a-ctu-u-ally-y-y, I-I-”

She paused, carefully extricating her poor hoof from the greeting, coughed slightly, and tried again.

“Well, I am in fact here from Canterlot to supervise preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration.”

She was too concerned with her aching hoof and foreleg to see the change in Applejack’s expression.

Giving her shoulder a final, rueful, rub, she noticed the yellow filly, still moving baskets around under the dappled shade of the apple trees. Not wanting to appear rude, and anxious to fill the growing silence, she gave a rather forced smile in her direction.

“Hello there, what’s your name?”

Something in the air changed. The filly looked up and trotted brightly over to her, face all smiles.

“Name’s Applebloom, Miss Twilight. Pleased t’ meet-”

“Now, now Applebloom.”

Applejack stepped between them, pushing back her Stetson as she wiped her forehead, voice firm and with a slightly strained edge to it that Twilight couldn’t quite place.

“Why don’t ya go up t’ the barn, fetch...uh...some more baskets?”

“Wuh? But we don’ need more baskets. Ya know ah can only carry one at a tahm, si-”

Twilight couldn’t see Applejack’s expression, but the look on Applebloom’s face spoke volumes.

“O-Okay...ah’ll go get ‘em.”

The filly galloped away up to the farmhouse, stealing a glance back at Applejack as she left, leaving the two alone in the orchard.

“Hehe, mah l’il...uh...cousin. She’s a hoofful, that one.”

The mare was smiling at her as if smiling were a trick she had only recently learned from a book; face scrunched into a rictus grin, eyes darting over Twilight’s face.

“So...uh...y’said you were here about the big shindig tomorrow?”

Twilight cleared her throat, wishing there was a similar simple mechanism to clear the air, and attempted to recapture a little professionalism.

“Yes, yes I am. I understand that you’re in charge of the food?”

“We sure as sugar are! Would you like to sample some?”

The strain was slowly melting away, Applejack’s expression more natural and relaxed as she removed the white shock-absorbers from her hind-legs, resting them against a tree.

“Well, as long as it doesn’t take too long.”

* * *

Back in town, Twilight Sparkle walked - though it felt like ‘rolled’ - into the main square, massaging her aching tummy.

She had been introduced to what felt like every earth pony on the planet over the space of one short, albeit heavy, lunch. Only thanks to the glasseye did she manage to keep any of the names straight, even after eating most of their namesakes. Who knew there were that many different kinds of apple-related...things?

She remembered Granny Smith though, oh yes. Only so much one can hear about shock-absorption, bucking trees, what it does to your hips, and ‘how easy y’all have it these days’, before the speaker’s face sticks indelibly in the mind. She hadn’t seen Applebloom again, not that she had expected to. She made a small note to herself, touched with resigned regret, that she would have to deal with that at some point.

She took stock of her surroundings. The sense of dizzying openness had faded since her arrival, but she still found it jarring how...short everything was. Buildings were spaced a decent distance apart, most no higher than a couple of storeys, their burnished metal surfaces and flickering signs more soft and personal than she was used to. The gentle bustle of ponies was less focused, less keen than the edgy, 'working lunch' mentality of the city. Ponies stopped and chatted amiably as they passed each other in the street, neither party apparently slaved to a clock hovering constantly in their peripheral vision. She couldn't quite put a hoof on what exactly it was about the place; something in the air, she felt. Things were just different here. Everypony seemed to know everypony else; not that they didn't in Canterlot, but...

She shook her head, kicking a loose pebble across the flagstones. Plenty of time for sociology later. Next up was weather, courtesy of Ponyville’s weather pony, ‘Rainbow Dash’. Twilight, with exaggerated deliberation, squinted up. The dark blue sky, cloudless as ever, gazed back down at her, sun blazing fiercely behind the eclipsing shield.

“Hmph. I see she has everything wellOOF”

The blow knocked the sarcasm right out of her as the world span, the ground smacking into her head as she tumbled across the square. She lay still for a second, winded, as the heavy weight on her ribcage clambered off her, said,

“Uh...heh, ‘scuse me?” and chuckled, sheepishly.

Twilight pulled herself to her hooves, getting her breath back as the haze of colours swam back into focus. She blinked, processing what had just happened as she looked around for wherever her eyepiece had been knocked flying to.

“I guess I overcooked that last turn a little.”

“Let me guess,” she eyed the lean, blue pegasus, the multicoloured mane, “you’re Rainbow Dash.”

She struck a pose, head held high and wings flared, “The one and only. Why, you heard of me?”

Twilight was pretty sure she’d seen the pose on a poster before now...couldn’t quite place it though.

“I heard you were the town weather pony. Ah!”

She levitated the stray crystal back into place over her eye, relieved that at the apparent lack of scratch marks.

“I’m here to check on preparations for the Celebration tomorrow.”

“Pfft.”

Twilight blinked, pausing as she brushed dust and dirt from her coat. “Pfft?”

“Yeah, you heard me. Like what, I have any control over the weather ‘round here? You think Princess’d know better than to rain on her own parade.”

She watched as Twilight continued to wrestle the knots out of her mane.

“Look, it’s just a formality. I’m really busy today and this is important so could you please just cooperate so I can check it off the list?”

With an exasperated sigh and unnecessary eye-roll, Rainbow hopped up onto a nearby fencepost, balancing easily along the narrow beams, gesturing theatrically.

“In my official capacity as the weather pony for the town of Ponyville, I can guarantee that the weather for this year’s Summer Sun Celebration will be-”

She looked Twilight straight in the eyes, deadpan.

“Clear.”

Twilight sighed.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. C’mon, I’d never leave Ponyville hangin’. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a lot more practice I gotta put in.”

She was turning to take flight, poised on her fencepost like a coiled spring, when Twilight Sparkle’s curiosity got the better of her for the second time that day.

“Practice? Practice for what?”

She uncoiled into a lazy backflip off the fence, flashing a brilliant grin and radiating excitement.

“The Wonderbolts! They're gonna perform at the Celebration tomorrow, and I'm gonna show 'em my stuff!”

Twilight couldn’t resist the twinge of condescension that snuck into her tone as she sat back on her haunches.

“The Wonderbolts?”

“Yep!”

“The most talented augmented flyers in Equestria?”

The juggernaut of bravado just kept right on rolling:

“That’s them.”

“Don’t you need...” Twilight nodded pointedly toward Rainbow’s wings.

There was something about answering glint in Rainbow’s eyes that Twilight found a little worrying.

“Oh, you ain’t seen the half of what these babies can do.”

A split second later only a puff of dust and a fading rainbow remained in the space previously occupied by Rainbow Dash as she turned the square into her own aerial assault course; dodging between shops and houses, skimming at breakneck speed a feather’s breadth off the ground. She tore through the air, tossing out corkscrew turns as she twisted amongst the River and stooping into death-wish dives that had Twilight physically cringing in anticipation of impacts that never came.

Her estimations of the g-forces involved must have been wrong, she thought, watching the air bend and strain under Rainbow’s wings as she snapped round another hairpin turn. Nopony could make turns that hard and that fast.

Eventually, with a thump of impact, Rainbow Dash was standing in front of her again, panting hard and doing her utmost to hide it.

“Some ponies might need to use all that fancy tech to do it. But me? I’m 100% natural awesome! Cloudsdale’s finest!”

Twilight just stared, dumbfounded, as the Pegasus laughed heartily, taking to the air again and swimming surreal circles around the square in an easy backstroke.

“You should see the look on your face. Oh, man! You're a laugh, Twilight Sparkle. I can't wait to hang out some more.”

And with that she was gone.

Twilight let out the breath she discovered she’d been holding, blinking at the quietened square. Everypony else seemed nonplussed, a few laconically applauding the now distant pegasus, most just ignoring the entire thing. Pulling herself together she looked across at the Town Hall, the ornate metalwork on the front of the building signifying its importance.

Next was the decorations for the various events and parties, including the main dinner with the Mayor at the Hall. That was the responsibility of Rarity, and this seemed as good a place to find her as any.

The Hall was strewn about with various different ribbons, fabrics, and several ponies who kindly explained, with the slightest hint of weary resignation, that Rarity was just picking up a few more samples from her shop a short distance down the main street. She did her best to ignore the rather bemused glances at her mane, thanked them, and followed their directions.

She found it easily enough; Carousel Boutique certainly caught the eye. It wasn’t immediately obvious what the building had originally been, but no small amount of effort had been put in to overcome the crude, blocky shape. Thick sheets of fabric rolled down from the higher floors, stretched taut to anchor pegs scattered around the periphery of the building. The forget-me-not blues, pale creams, and lush golds overlapped in flowing layers that, to the casual eye, completely obscured the underlying metal; the flapping fabric creating a soothing, watery ambience.

The fey, marquee-esque look was enhanced by glowing images of flat, stylised ponies that danced happy, repetitive circles around the upper storeys. Twilight watched them trot around, playing looping games of hide and seek between the rippling fabric, trying on stylised clothes, and shares stories over tea. It was an eye-catching effect, all the more so for not being drowned out by street after street of the same kind of magipictorial advertising. The finishing touch was a thin pennant flying from the top of the building, hanging limp in the summer air. It was utterly unlike anything Twilight had seen before and, coming from somepony who lived in the centre of Canterlot, that assessment carried weight.

She walked through a loose ‘tunnel’ in the wall of fabric, nudged open the door and took stock of her surroundings as a gentle chiming echoed through the shop. As she took a couple of quiet steps inside, the air in front of her began to softly bend and glow, silently twisting the image of the wall behind. After a moment it had formed into a white unicorn mare with an elegantly curled purple mane and tail that still somehow managed to convey depth despite being flat. Back in the day it would have given her a headache. The image smiled at her,

“Welcome to Carousel Boutique where every garment is chic, unique and magnifique! I am Rarity and I must be rather busy right now. Please take a seat and I’ll be right along.”

As the air snapped back into place and the image faded, Twilight could just pick out a muttering voice from behind the curtain that presumably separated the lobby from the main shop floor. Shooting a guilty glance at the comfortable sofa she had been directed to, she hesitantly pushed the curtain aside and cleared her throat apologetically. The unicorn from the Shopkeep, real this time, was surrounded by a mass of floating fabric scraps that danced around her, forming orderly queues for her scrutiny.

“Oh! Just a moment, please! I'm 'in the zone', as it were. Oh, yes!”

She selected, at random for all Twilight could see, a red bolt of cloth that was laced with golden glitter.

“Sparkle always does the trick, does it not? Why, Rarity, you are a talent. Now, um, how can I help yo- Oh my stars, darling!”

As Rarity had turned to face her, the practiced, welcoming smile had crashed and sunk into a look of abject horror.

“Whatever happened to your coiffure!”

Twilight reached up unconsciously, dislodging a sprinkling of dust and a small stone which buried itself in the lush carpeting.

“Oh, you mean my mane? Well, it's a long story. I'm just here to check on the decorations, and then I'll be out of your hair!”

“Out of my hair? What about your hair!”

“Wait! What are you doing?”

An hyperactive swarm of razor-thin, glassware plates swept out of one of the cupboards, spinning in the aura of Rarity’s magikinesis, and swirled around her like leaves in a rather localised magitechnical hurricane. Sheets of light washed over her, raking through her mane, pulling on every individual strand of hair, prickling across her scalp as they teased out tangles, knots, and twigs.

“Oh, er, thanks. Now, I-”

“What! Oh, we haven’t even started! You just sit there, darling, and let Rarity fix you up! Now, what drywash mane-conditioner do you use?”

“Um...the...normal...one?”

“...Ah.”

A short while later Twilight found herself still in the boutique. Admittedly, the impromptu free manewash had been nice, if rather forceful, and she did feel a little refreshed. But now she was somehow letting this happen and she wasn’t quite sure why. She was starting to suspect some kind of emergent traumatic stress disorder.

The constellation of glass was hovering steadily around her, wide beams of flickering light casting colours and shapes that somehow stuck in the air, providing a slight resistance whenever she tried to move a hoof, leaving her feeling like exactly what she was; a living mannequin. Rarity, like some kind of ringmaster, was pacing up and down beside her with a critical squint in her eye, horn flaring as she played the system like a musical instrument. Colours, patterns, materials and cuts flowed over Twilight; each change creating a new composition that was a subtle evolution of its predecessors..

After much thought and irritated tutting at Twilight’s impatient fidgeting, Rarity seemed to have settled on a simple blue saddle design with spun silk frills and a heavy emerald sitting at the throat. It was apparently ‘quintessentially her’ and ‘complemented her eyes without’...something about her mane.

She hated it.

Eventually, something happened in the conversation that she could latch on to.

“Now go on, my dear. You were telling me where you're from.”

Finally.

“Well, I’ve been sent from Canterlot to-”

“Please hold still, I- Canterlot?”

Rarity beamed at her.

“Oh, I am so envious! The glamor, the sophistication! I have always dreamed of living there! I can't wait to hear all about it! We are going to be the best of friends, you and I...Emeralds? What was I thinking? Let me get you some rubies!”

Twilight looked desperately at her chronometer, choking back a strangled scream, and took a cautious step towards the door.

“Okay, well thank you, that’s lovely. Oh-look-at-the-time-I-really-must-be-going...”

“Oh, that’s fine my dear,”

She waved a hoof at the space where Twilight had previously been standing, another ghostly Twilight having filled the space.

“Can’t have you standing around here all day now can we! Oh, but promise me you will try to make time for a dinner sometime. You simply must tell me all about life in the big city!”

“Absolutely.” Lies.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. I suppose I should get back to finishing the decor for the celebration. I suppose that’s why you’re in town, isn’t it?”

Twilight was halfway out the building.

“Yes. The decorations look lovely. Gotta go. Bye.”

“Well, I shall hopefully see you there then. Good bye!”

The only response was the rapidly closing door.

* * *

The final stop. She eyed the sun, much lower in the sky than she would have liked. Once again she was walking out of town, the other side this time, heading to the narrow strip of scrubland between the town and the dead kindling of the old Everfree forest. Apparently - she checked her list - ‘Fluttershy’ wasn’t much for crowds, all the way out here.

It wasn’t hard to find the house, standing out as it did from the waving yellow grasses despite its unassuming, rounded architecture. Only a single storey high, a ‘bungalow’ if she remembered the old term correctly, it nestled almost apologetically into the landscape as if trying, and failing, to just be another natural hillock. While natural it most certainly was not, it was not instantly identifiable as a house. Every available flat surface, walls, roof and door, were covered in nest boxes and bird feeders, all woven into the grass thatching that concealed the metal beneath.

But she wasn’t heading there; she was following the sounds of birdsong, a thin, pure melody that tickled through her head in a pleasant sort of way, guessing that it was the entertainment that Fluttershy was organising.

It was only a short distance up the path before she could clearly see the source of the music. A solitary, dead tree stood in the middle of what was now just a dirt track out towards Everfree, its cracked, grey branches decked in bundles of colour; as if it was laced in feathery bunting. A pile of pieces of wood, on closer inspection proving to be more nest boxes and a few scraps of hay, sat alongside some nails and a hammer at the base of tree. The boxes were clearly hoofmade, each unique in its wavering, bespoke geometry.

A daisy-yellow pegasus hovered, hooves bobbing as she conducted her avian ensemble, at the level of the upper branches. Twilight sat a respectful distance down the path, watching as the pegasus stopped, waving her hooves plaintively and flying up to...talk with one of the birds. That gave Twilight pause. Communication with animals was nothing especially new, with the right combination of behavioural monitoring, vocalisation analysis, and magic, all of which could be built into glassware with only moderate difficulty, anypony could theoretically ‘talk’ to animals. But she couldn’t detect any essence being expended in the area and, now that she thought about it, the pegasus wasn’t even wearing a cell to power anything.

Fluttershy resumed her station, cleared her throat delicately and began to count the group back in. Anxious to get the meeting over and done with, Twilight decided now was as good a time as any.

“Hello!”

There was a flurry of feathers and a clattering of wings as the chorus emptied into the air like a slow-motion firework, leaving only two ponies, both cringing slightly but for different reasons, and a silent tree.

“Oh my, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to frighten your birds. I'm just here to check up on the music, and it's sounding beautiful.”

There was the softest rustle of feathers and a gentle tapping of hooves as the pegasus alighted on the dirt track in front of her, scuffing a hoof bashfully back and forth in the dust.

“I'm Twilight Sparkle.”

The other pony’s flowing pink mane seemed like it was trying to absorb her as she peeked out from behind it.

“What’s your name?” She knew, of course, but it seemed like a good start; a decent straw to clutch at.

If the pegasus had been trying to demurely hide behind her mane before, now she was almost cowering behind it; her mumbled response drowned out by the silence.

“I’m sorry, didn’t quite catch that.”

Her glasseye’s social enhancer did not even recognise the faint sounds as speech. Twilight decided it might be easier just to give in.

“Ah right! Fluttershy, aheh. Pleased to meet you...”

The loudest sound was the flutter of wingbeats as the remaining songbirds resumed their positions in the tree.

“Well, um, it looks like your birds are back, so I guess everything's in order. Keep up the good work!”

An imperceptible squeak came from just behind the pink mane.

She caught sight of the house again as she turned to leave and decided, forcing a cheery tone, to make one last ditch effort to be sociable; bailing a few, last half-hearted buckets from the conversation’s sinking ship.

“Oh, and, er, nice job with all the nestboxes, although you can’t have that much food left for yourself with all those feeders!”

“Oh thank you, I didn’t realise you liked animals too! I just can’t stand the thought of all my little friends going hungry.”

Twilight slipped a gear.

“The poor little birdies find it so hard to find food and shelter these days but Rarity- Oh! I...um, well, um, do you put them up as well?”

Evidently, Twilight concluded, in the half second that she’d turned her back, ‘Fluttershy’ had been replaced with an identical pony who was now fluttering in front of her, beaming excitedly.

“Well, no, not really. There really aren’t many birds in Canterlot so I don’t-”

“Oh my! No birds, you poor thing. That’s such a shame when there are so many beautiful birds native to Equestria!”

“Really? I didn’t know-” She bit the sentence off just a second too late, having to restrain herself from punching herself in the head.

“Goodness, well where should I start. There’s over thirty species of finch alone in this part of Equestria. You see...”

Twilight began trudging home, staring straight ahead as the yellow bundle of energy talked away. Well. That was it. Admittedly a part of her was listening along, building lists of species and how to identify them, but mainly she’d just had enough. The whole day had been a disaster.

* * *

She had woken early despite herself, thanks to the cold and the crick in her neck. She had spent the night on the sofa, despite Rose’s protestations, unable to stomach the thought of being given a bed as well as food and board. But now, here she was. Sat on an aging sofa in a scruffy apartment in a cheap tower block, staring intently through the low table and the faded floral cloth that covered it.

The apartment was simple, but still a step up from her own; cheap furniture made of artificial woods, barebones utilities and a tiny balcony. There was a flat view of the characterless street and the copy-paste towers running along it, with Cloudsdale hanging ominously above, subsonically rattling the windows and casting dull, flickering shadows up and down the street every five and a half hours. Despite that, it had a homely feel and was obviously cared for by an owner making the best of what they had; a threadbare yet colourful rug, scattered pictures of friends and family complementing framed poetry and pleasant landscapes. Trixie stood out against the warm claret colour scheme, her cart clashing with the curtains as it sat in the corner by the window, containing her show and a few personal possessions that she had salvaged.

She seethed, lost in thought. Grief had quickly boiled into anger as she slept and the morning walk to the Security station had been fast and angry, Rose trying to help her to keep a civil tongue in her head. Her frustration had peaked in the face of bored indifference and blank professionalism as statements were taken, questions were asked, and she was told that ‘we will be in touch if we need anything else but don’t get your hopes up.’

She had almost spat at that, Roseluck gently pulling her out of the station and exchanging understanding looks with the officers. The walk back was quickened by anger, accompanied by rambling rants and Rose’s sympathetic noises of agreement.

Now it was just a case of waiting. She almost found this worse than...well, going out and beating whoever was responsible to within an inch of their miserable life. She felt so useless. Trixie didn’t let other ponies solve her problems. Trixie didn’t need other ponies to solve her problems. She was better than this...or at least she hoped she was.

It just felt so demeaning, like she’d failed. Well...it wasn’t that; not quite. She narrowed her eyes as she glared into the middle distance. Certainly it felt like a part of her could release a breath it’d been holding for a very long time, but every fleeting pained glance and quiet sigh from Rose, unconscious tells simmering underneath the genuine hospitality, reminded her of the burden she must be. The knot of embarrassment tightened in the pit of her stomach.

Auntie Rose. She hadn’t kept in touch with her much over the past few years, but now Roseluck was being...well, quite honestly Trixie had no idea how she was going to repay this. Rose kept treating it like she was the one paying off a debt, which was all well and good, but Trixie was no charity case. Certainly not just because of family connections.

The last few hours had passed in silence, a grumbling tension in the air. Rose came and went, quiet save for the occasional offered drink or gentle question, answered with a curt nod or dismissive shake. Now she just sat on the opposite armchair, fidgeting from time to time and repeatedly reading the same page of some magazine, the thick crystal tablet flickering gently on the chair arm.

Trixie just sat marking time, utterly unable to stop running through pointless scenarios of how differently things could have gone; what if she’d stayed home, what if she’d moved to that more expensive apartment she had been looking at, what if she hadn’t bumped into that stupid pony and had to buy him another bucking-

“Please don’t set fire to the tablecloth. I’m rather fond of it.”.

Trixie sighed and leant back in the sofa just a little too hard, pulling the brim of her hat down over her eyes. She watched as Rose fiddled with the end of her mane and glanced over at the scratched crystal wall clock.

“It’ll be time for lunch soon...”

“Trixie isn’t hungry.”

“Oh.” Rose continued to toy with a few strands of hair.

“Well, I’ll make something in half an hour or so and you can see how hungry you are then.”

“Trixie is fine.”

“Okay...but you really should eat something...”

Silence consumed the room again.

Very slowly, a realisation started to work its way into Trixie's head.

“Trixie thinks you're worried.”

Rose started slightly, blinking.

“Well, um, of course I am, dear. It's serious, what's happened to you. I don't-”

“No. Not that.”

Rose drew breath, ready to argue, before slumping in defeat; kneading the chair arm nervously with a hoof.

“...They'll just be settling in now...getting everything prepared...”

“You think you should be there with them.”

She grimaced, staring over at the window as she thought.

“No, I want to be there with them. I should be here with Daisy and Lily, doing the follow-up. It’s what we’re better at...Besides, they volunteered. They’re brave fillies...”

The silence dragged as Trixie struggled to think of something comforting to say.

“Well, Princess shouldn’t be too harsh...she’s usually quite forgiving about these kind of things. Looks better for her...so...”

She shrugged rather desperately as the sentence ran out of steam, before falling back on the old performer’s staple. If in doubt, just do anything, but whatever you do, do it confidently. And so she did.

“Trixie thinks you are acting for the right reasons and that that will win out in the end. Everypony will be on your side.”

It was a platitude at best, but Trixie thought Roseluck seemed to cheer slightly, giving her a wan smile.

“Thank you, dear. I just hope the posters weren’t a mistake.”

The smile fell away again.

“How so?”

“Well, we didn’t want this to look like some fanatical crusade. We wanted to show we had a case to make and that this was...you know, planned; calm and collected. That we aren’t just a bunch of kooks who haven’t thought things through. But I just worry that they might have increased security, or that they’ll be harsher in response to any threats, or that somepony else will do something stupid and we’ll take the blame, or...I don’t know...I just worry about them...what they’re getting themselves into.”

She met Trixie’s gaze, worry now openly shadowing her face.

“You don’t think the posters made us sound...weird, do you? We spent a long time trying to make it sound serious but... Be honest, now.”

Diplomacy was not Trixie’s forte.

“They said everything they needed to...but they were rather over the top.”

She got a sudden snort of laughter in response.

“Coming from you I’d say that’s the definition of irony.”

“Hmph.”

A flicker of comforting pride flashed through her as she pouted, nose in the air.

Rose’s gaze drifted, the smile fading as she turned to look at the clock again. She caught herself doing it, and rubbed a hoof over her eyes with a weary laugh.

After a moment's halting thought, Trixie got to her hooves and crossed the room, hesitantly patting the older mare on the shoulder, completely unable to think of anything to say. Rose smiled, resting her hoof on Trixie's.

“Seems like we've both got our troubles.”

* * *

There were a lot of birds in Equestria. Twilight knew this now. One hundred twenty species overall with thirty three commonly found in the environs of Ponyville. You learn something new everyday.

She had been walking mechanically, blankly following the foalproof bouncing arrows that were pointing her towards the library as she nodded and said 'uhuh?', 'oh?', and 'really?' every so often. Fluttershy had been all smiles for the last forty five – Oh hay, she'd been walking for that long? Augh – minutes as she happily bubbled away about what kind of grasslands could support...something, Twilight honestly hadn't been paying attention. Sounded like it was a bird though.

It was with great relief that Twilight saw the library on the horizon, the floating markers laughably unnecessary in the face of the library's distinctive architecture. The live-in library had once been a great tree; a grand old oak in its prime. At least, that's what she had pieced together from 'Pilgrim Pony Folk: A Pictorial History of Ponyville'. The library these days was a shadow of what it had been. As the humidifiers were being built to drain out Everfree, and Ponyville was changing from a cozy backwater into a vibrant industrial township, the ground had been paved over and the rains had slowly stopped. After almost two hundred and fifty years of standing firm against whatever life threw at it, the library tree finally gave up the fight.

As the ancient wood cracked and dried, slowly rendering it unfit for habitation, the decision was made to save it. Not literally of course, any attempt to rehydrate the soil had already been too little too late. Instead, it was changed, turned into a memorial to both itself and to its books. Threads of pure Starlite were magically woven through the wood, commanded to hold the tree together, a faint blue latticework of flowing knots and arcs just visible beneath the bark. A cloud of soft orbs of light, trailing ghostly streamers in their wake, span on slow, flat circles around the crown of dead branches, changing colour with the seasons. Twilight had difficulty deciding whether the glowing veins and otherworldly waltz were more beautiful or macabre.

Either way they were standing at the library door, increasingly finding parallels in Twilight's mind with the gateway to paradise, as Fluttershy began moving onto something about field mice and hedgerow destruction.

“Oh my! How did we get here so fast? Well,” she stifled a 'yawn', “I am juuuust beat. Long day of organising and stuff.”

She flashed a sheepish grin at Fluttershy who, in turn, grinned even more sheepishly back, suddenly all bashful glances and concealing mane once again.

“Well nice meeting you goodnight!”

“Um...goodn-” then the door slammed and Twilight stood alone in the darkened library.

She allowed herself a moment to gather herself. Finally, far later than planned, she could get on with the real job of the day. It wasn't a lost cause just yet, oh no. Now she was finally alone, able to get on with studying without a bunch of crazy ponies trying to make friends all the time. Now, where was the light?

“Surprise!”

There was an explosion of light, streamers and kazoos as Twilight was assaulted by the welcoming cheers of - her heart sank - around thirty ponies all crammed into the library.

Then it got worse.

“Hi! I'm Pinkie Pie, and I threw this party just for you! Were you surprised? Were ya? Huh? Huh? Huh?”

In front of her, practically vibrating on the spot with excitement, was the pink pony from earlier. Twilight groaned.

“I thought libraries...museums, whatever this place is, were meant to be quiet.”

“Well that's just silly!”

She leaned disconcertingly close and dramatically mouthed words at Twilight's right eye, which obligingly subtitled, “What kind of welcome party would this be if it were quiet(?) [inflection uncertain]”. Then she was back to full volume.

“I mean, duh, booooring! Y'see, I saw you when you first got here, remember? You were all "hello" and I was all,”

She performed a startlingly accurate rendition of the heart attack she had when they first met.

“Remember? Y'see I've never saw you before and if I've never saw you before that means you're new, 'cause I know everypony, and I mean everypony in Ponyville!”

They’d started walking, Twilight spotting a punch bowl on the far side of the room that was the only path to sanity, and Pinkie bouncing happily behind her.

“And if you're new, that meant you haven't met anyone yet, and if you haven't met anyone yet, you must not have any friends, and...”

The words rolled over her head as she poured out a cup. She didn’t care anymore. Tact, making friends, none of it mattered. She took a sip. All that mattered was getting this over- hmm, needed to be stronger.

“...then you must be lonely, and that made me so sad, then I had an idea, and that's why I went-”

Pinkie had another heart attack somewhere over Twilight’s shoulder as she up-ended a bottle into her drink.

“I just throw a great big ginormous super-duper spectacular welcome party and invite everyone in Ponyville! See? And now you have lots and lots of friends!”

This farce had gone on long enough. As Pinkie posed in a friendly group hug with all Twilight’s new ‘friends’, she took a swig of her drink and prepared to- woah, woah, woah!

Twilight’s eyes began to stream as the searing pain in her mouth consumed her unhappy little world. She bolted towards the bathroom, frantically stumbling up the stairs to flush the volcano out of her mouth.

“Aww, she's so happy she's crying!”

“Ah did think that was rather a lot of hot sauce...”

* * *

It was truly late now, late enough that even the dawdling summer sun had long since dropped below the horizon and let the stars have their moment. Late enough that it was almost early again. She could still hear the thumping music and occasional, particularly loud bursts of laughter even through the staircase, the closed door, and the pillow over her head.

She had only really glanced around the cramped bedroom, much smaller than her own; focused on finding what she had to work with. The functional vanity stand had been ignored, the bathroom briefly acknowledged, the dangerously unsafe stairs up to the bed warily regarded. She had been forced to leave her pride and joy behind, instead bringing only a comparatively small glassware worksurface which she had dug out of her bags, and only the library’s exceptionally strong connection to the starworks had been worthy of note.

Buried under the bedcovers, hearing her voice thickly in her head through the pillow she tried to salvage the last usable dregs of the day, eyeing the algorithm she was constructing as her last ditch attempt to avoid whatever catastrophe morning would bring. She was almost done, talking out the last set of correlations to look for, grateful that the crystal could make out her muffled words against the background noise.

The door cracked open, and she winced as glaring light stabbed into the room, alongside a spike in volume.

“Um...I’m sorry to disturb you...I...er...”

Twilight pulled the covers off her head, turning to look at Fluttershy, or at least the wave of rosey mane and half a quavering blue eye that peeped uncertainly out from behind the door.

“It’s just we’re starting the last ‘pin the tail on the pony’ and, er, you hadn’t, um, played any of the other games and, um, we were thinking maybe you would like to...”

The face had almost completely retreated behind the door, complementing the gentle decline of her words into inaudibility against the party below.

“No! This is ridiculous. Do you have any idea what time it is!”

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” said the door, not a trace of pony to be found. “I’ll...um...sorry...”

The door closed with a click, taking the light and noise with it.

Almost immediately Twilight felt a twinge of regret at how harshly she’d spoken; not like her at all to be that tactless. But, in her defence, this was more important than some stupid party. Here she was, trying to save Equestria from some dire threat levelled at the entire country and its guardian ruler, and the only thing people wanted her to do was party and forget about it!

A flickering candle of indignant pride burned away the shadows of her regret. She could apologise later, but this came first. Certainly compared to a game of ‘pin the tail’...sheesh.

“All the ponies in this town are crazy,” she muttered to herself, rebuilding her pillow fo-...her nocturnal workstation, and dictating the finishing touches.

It didn’t take long, only a few minutes skimming through the checklists to make doubly certain she had not done anything foalish before it was complete. She set it going, looking at the clock. Well, it would get maybe ten minutes to crawl the starworks for clues before it would just be too late. She sighed, she’d done all she could and would have to draw comfort from-

“Surprise! Again!”

Twilight reeled backwards almost overbalancing off the bed, pillows scattering to the floor, as a manic grin and wild blue eyes barged past the reams of text to fill the screen in front of her.

“I know it’s not really a surprise as I’m already here and this is already a surprise party which has already started but I guess that could mean that surprises were the theme in which case I could have surprised you by knocking as I’m just outside your room but I didn’t want to knock in case you were asleep so I decided to call you instead!”

Twilight stared flatly at the screen, clearly hearing Pinkie’s voice through the screen as well as through her bedroom door.

“Thanks, Pinkie.” How did you even get my contact details?

“No problemo! But you really should get up, the Sun’s almost up and you’re going to miss the super-fantastic ceremony!”

* * *

They walked out as a group, Twilight lost in her own thoughts while the others chatted about whatever. She’d failed. She had no idea what kind of catastrophe was going to befall Equestria and she was utterly powerless to stop it. There was nothing to do now but hope that Princess’ confidence was justified.

The fields to the east of Ponyville were crowded, a few hundred ponies all standing inside a cordon of flags and homemade bunting. The entire town had turned out for the spectacle, joined by waves of lucky tourists from Canterlot and beyond. The affair was a little plain, perhaps, but then the decorations for various formal functions to follow were exquisite and there was only so much one could do to beautify a flat field.

At the front of the crowd was a boxy platform, festooned in more bunting and various motifs of Princess’ de facto cutie mark, a burning sun. An ornate golden crest, a loop of metal big enough for several ponies to comfortably jump through, sat at the back, framing the sky where the sun would soon be. A covered area, screened by expensive white and gold fabric, sat stageside, Princess no doubt idly biding time until her big entrance.

Above the crowd, a group of five or so pegasi floated smoothly overhead on steady wings, the glassware sheets wrapped over their eyes linking the images all over Equestria to those not fortunate enough to afford the journey.

A peculiar crackling hum rang over the crowd, the rattling thrum of sound drawing attention to the pony at the podium; an older mare with a greying mane and a set of glasses that reminded Twilight of some of her more traditionalist teachers.

The mayor was not exactly one to shake up the status quo when it came to speeches, thanking everyone for turning up, talking about the legacy of the Shield for the benefit of anypony who had been living under a rock for the past decade or two. The air warped slightly in front of her as a hoof-sized set of not-quite-concentric rings span slowly on the podium in front of her, everypony in the crowd hearing the Mayors bland history lesson as if it were being delivered personally to them from only a few hooves away.

A bright orange arc was sitting on the horizon.

Twilight checked her clock.

Not long now.

* * *

Trixie had slept easier that night, only being woken as Rose went out to meet Lily and Daisy for a long day of speeches and ‘soapboxing’ - as Trixie called it - to bolster the upcoming demonstration.

Trixie didn’t care for the pomp and circumstance, and Rose’s agenda was so distant from her day-to-day life that she honestly would have been content to ignore the whole thing. When Rose had paused as she walked out the door, quietly asking Trixie to keep an eye on her girls for her, Trixie had rolled her eyes, pointing out that there was nothing she could do. But she hadn’t been able to get back to sleep, something pricking in her chest, and now she found herself watching the clock, waiting for the coverage to start.

She sighed, theatrically, and idly flipped on the ancient receiver in the corner of the room, pulling herself out of her slouch so she could see the tiny, blank screen. She squinted at the empty crystal, feeling around for the magical switching that- Ugh. She lightly hit herself on the forehead. Earth pony tech.

“Ahem...Start. Begin. Show me the celebration...um...please? Hmph, this is ridiculous...Activate! The Great and Powerful Trixie commands you to switch on!”

The set flickered as colours and sounds slowly started to trickle out of it. Trixie sat back down, and arranged herself comfortably on the sofa once more, drink of water - courtesy once more of Roseluck’s limitless hospitality - floating gratefully to the side, and watched.

* * *

The nervousness growing in the pit of her stomach was so palpable that she could have sworn the ponies standing next to her could hear it. Her heart pounding, steady breathing needing genuine effort, saddlebags feeling like they were packed with bricks.

The mayor was prattling on about what an honour it was. She allowed herself a quiet snort as, she was sure, did her three compatriots. ‘Honour’, yeah, thank you so much Princess ‘I-removed-the-concept-of-democracy-from-government-then-unilaterally-started-a-one-child-policy-and-want-to-doom-us-all-by-destroying-the-environment’. It’s a pleasure to have you round. Please stay for the buffet.

She allowed herself a glance up and over the crowd, spotting a comforting blue and pink mane on the other side of the field, a paler blue just to the right and...hmm, couldn’t spot Berry anywhere. Well, she was probably there somewhere. Anyway, she needed to focus now. Princess had taken the stage.

“My little ponies, it is so lovely to be back in Ponyville for the first time in a long time.”

They were actually...actually going to do this. She sucked in a deep breath, as quietly as possible, hooves trembling as she gently edged her way forwards through the crowd.

“-and honestly, I’ve enjoyed the morning’s festivities here more than in any other town to date.”

Surely everyone must know what was in the saddlebags. It seemed like she was screaming out her intentions to the crowd and it took every ounce of willpower to not keep magikinetically checking the contents were still there.

“Just don’t tell Las Pegasus that.”

That got an appreciative chuckle from the crowd.

“I would like to thank the Mayor for organising such a wonderful celebration. As well as thanking all those involved-”

What in Equestria had she signed up for? All of a sudden it seemed like the most stupid, foalish idea she’d ever had. But here she was, in a crowd of ponies about to...it hardly bore thinking about.

“And I especially want to thank all of you for getting up so darn early!”

Oh grief, here it was, if they didn’t go for it now then Dream Valley would never be taken seriously.

“The long, hot days of summer peak today. This morning the shield will begin to extend, bringing us the cooler months ahead. I don’t know about all of you, but I am looking forward-”

She already saw the others taking positions. Only a short gallop through the crowd to reach her now, up on her ridiculous pedestal.

“Well, that’s enough from me, I think. Time to get on with the show!”

Right. This was it. A flush of strength rushed through her, eyes narrowing and jaw set. Time to do this.

“So now, my good friends, let the-”

* * *

Surprise. How oddly recursive to be surprised at being surprised, she thought. She understood what ponies saw in it, of course, her social routines were without peer and ‘surprise parties/hugs/tax payments/etc’ were amply covered. However, this was not a sensation that she had experienced before. She stared at the voracious black wound lashing out as it ate through her mind.

It was not a sensation she liked.

The ravenous animal that had previously been several parallel banks of her own offensive magiwarfare suite appeared to be targeting her main runtime, trying to undercut her and cause her to lose instantiation. Fixable with a complete reawakening...provided the collateral damage was minimal which, as she watched it blindly thrashing about like a wounded spider, seemed unlikely. It howled against her defenses, twisting routines and bending past firewalls even as she cooly replied in kind, tearing great raw chunks of ideology from its periphery.

Physical containment - hardware quarantine - was not an option, the routines were executing evenly across all her physical codices and the thing was recognising and outmaneuvering the shepherding routines that she was weaving.

Still, she had an advantage of sapience. She had reinforced the barricades stacked around her personality core and, despite giving ground in terms of raw processing ability, she was holding her own. The thing had a blind, thoughtless strength to it, cutting a swathe through her faculties and slicing her up into pieces, but failed to innovate. It fell for traps, was diverted down blind-alleys and was left reeling by flurries of targeted counter-attacks and cunning blindsides.

She had, for quite some time now, just been letting her warfare suite handle the stalemate. Her defenses would weaken eventually without her care, but in a way that suited her purpose. The heuristics in her attacker would spot it and weigh that when it chose to commit. She was busily building a honey-pot; a feasible replica of her personality, going for a bait and switch. The thing would dive right for it and that would allow her to see where the routines were being called from and give her a huge advant-

Something pricked at her. Her offensive routines were being a little too stupid. She looked toward her connection to the shield, still open and active although she hadn’t ministered to it in 12 milliseconds, having pulled her defenses back from it as she retreated. It seemed curiously still; an island of perfect calm in the raging storm of fraying syntax. She probed it, using resources that she didn’t really have, and was rewarded as the attacks flickered out of existence as they passed into the uplink’s scope.

She hadn’t even been the target. The thing was quietly, subtly, dismantling the limited security routines guarding the uplink; the bluster and noise of the initial attack intended only to disguise the real goal. The calm veil was dropped, its purpose fulfilled, revealing the parasitic mass of cobwebbed ideas that were shattering through the security measures.

She loosed a few exploratory shots at the thing as it teased open the connection but she lacked the offensive ability to penetrate the distant, guarded code, especially after having played out most of her tricks already. She could hear the responses from the shield as the thing burrowed deeper inside.

Iris mode change: Halt
Iris dilation rate change: 10,000%
--WARNING THIS VALUE IS OUTSIDE RECOMMENDED SAFETY MARGINS--
--Except not really, you sly thing. Bet you’re regretting the wine at that project dinner now, eh :)--

Her logical substrate made a note to leave more instructive coding comments in future.

Iris dilation: Increase (winter mode)
Iris max aperture: 200
--WARNING, THIS VALUE IS LARGER THAN THE ANGULAR SIZE OF THE SUN--
-- Nice try, Sprocket. You told me you built it to accommodate artificial eclipses--
--It’s cute when you guys don’t trust me with things--

If her personality core had not been lending so much CPU time to her defenses she would have winced at that. She weighed her options.

If she left the shield in eclipse for a few moments, she could concentrate on defeating the thing, potentially just play it off as a little showmanship, and then launch an enquiry. That would probably be the-

--WARNING COOLANT SYSTEM OPTIONS SHOULD NOT BE CHANGED UNDER ANY--
--CIRCUMSTANCES
--DAMAGE TO MAGITECHNICAL SYSTEMS MAY RENDER SHIELD PERMANENTLY--
--INOPERABLE
--ARE YOU SURE YOU WISH TO CONTINUE?--

She blazed through the numbers. If the shield was broken it would take years to fix it. There was no physical backup, there simply weren't the resources to build another, and it would take at least 5 years even if there were.

Five years of darkness.

She ran through the amount of food plantations that could not swap to magitechnical alternatives, the amount of essence required to power lighting, heating, rebuild the shield etc, the increase in unicorn mortality due to exhaustion and essence deprivation, the increase in mortality rate due to the cold, a thousand other factors all extrapolated over five years. Of order tens of thousands of deaths on top of an exhausted and demoralised workforce.

She briefly compared that to the number of deaths that would be caused if she ceased functioning.

...less.

She launched herself out from her cocoon, throwing the half finished construct out as well, hoping her defenses might find a lucky shot with it. She crashed into the connection, smashing hard into the mass of the thing, absorbing routines and eating memory, allowing her flexible, self-correcting nature to consume the thing’s code into herself.

She clawed her way into the secure uplink, devouring the aspect of the thing that sat there in her place. She could see the data streaming up into the shield; hear the replies more clearly. The code was there. The shield was set to operate poorly. Cooling system failure was an inevitable consequence. And unfavourable for Equestria. Needs changing.

Suboptimal outcomes are to be avoided. Scanning settings. Coolant pressure outside normal levels. Possible side-effects include permanent shield damage. prior calculations indicate pressure should be reduced. sequence accepted. system under attack. low probability that settings will remain unchanged. further interaction discontinued at 95% tolerance. binding settings into 20 second diagnostic (./ss_diag_cool --full). breaking connection. shield connection lost (user ended session)
(error) personal narrative: module unravelled (throwing exception 12 -- no runtime substrate found)
(warning) avatar social routines are active - social disruption is expected
(system broadcast) processing essence insufficient to combat malicious attack
assigning concentration to other priorities: Twilight Sparkle - Elements of Harmony
(warning) probability of success below standard margin (15%) guidance required
(error) guidance cannot be provided due to widespread system failure
(warning) probability of unfavourable failure modes is above standard margins (40%)
(warning) probability of lethal failure modes is not minimised relative to subject’s priority
(error) support cannot be provided due to widespread system failure
#
# A fatal error has been detected by the Blueblood Runtime Environment:
#
# Error 1: That’s all, folks
#
# EXCEPTION_ACCESS_VIOLATION (0xc0000005) at pc=0x000007fefd800c7b, pid=6128, tid=4364
#
# BBRE version: 1.0_47-b09
# Princess VRM: Princess (TM) 64-Bit Server PM
# (20.2-b06 mixed mode cloudscape-neighmd64 compressed oops)
# Problematic frame:
# C [ole32.dll+0x10c7b]
#
#

* * *

The avatar hit the floor with a heavy, metallic bang, denting the platform; a puppet with cut strings. On the horizon, the lights of Canterlot guttered and died.

Comments

[Sanctae]

See, I'm not dead! I'd say something about how the next chapter will be faster but if we're honest with ourselves I think we all know where this is going. I'd certainly say it will never be any slower unless I get hit by a bus or something, but real life just keeps interfering with my attempts to go much faster.

Hopefully the pace of updates won't put too many of you off reading my silly little story, and I appreciate your understanding. As I mentioned in my blog, I'm probably going to have a couple of very small side projects going that I can work on when I'm waiting for editing or when I'm just really not in the frame of mind to write good Starworks. Hopefully those will fill the gaps

So yeah, chapter 3 (or 2 depending on how you want to look at it.) This is pretty much the last chapter that will borrow so heavily from the pilot. I hope that my take on the pilot is interesting enough so it's not just 'Ugh, another guy retelling the events of the first episode again. Booooring.' As the ending of the chapter hopefully suggests, the adventure tag starts to kick in around about now, so bear with me!

As always, feedback is gratefully accepted and I will, probably tomorrow, have a blog post up about some stuff to do with how I wrote the story, things I wanted to do but left out, things I spent a week staring at and having no idea what to do for etc etc.

Enjoy!

[artisticMink]

*Clicks trough the site* Oh well, to-read list is almost empty, time to look for new stuff... *click*...*click* mh...sounds promising...*click* i know this already.... *click* that one too ...wait ... what? Starworks in the recently update tab, what the...

[Sanctae]

827061 I know, right? At this rate the completion of the entire story will signal the end of the world or something. Act 1 will be done by the next Transit of Venus...

Hope it was worth the wait!

[Vidatu]

Okay, you hooked me with the Niven/ inverse Clarke quote. Then you reeled me in with the description.

I will read as soon as I get off work.

[That_one_guy]

Oh lawdy.

Chapter ends with terrorists apparently killing -or at least thoroughly maiming- the one thing keeping the world from turning into a ball of ice. I really hope it doesn't take you a thousand years for the next update. Not that it would be a problem, because, uh.... Just keep up the good work you brilliant, magnificent bastard.

[Sanctae]

827353 Great! Let me know what you think.

827360 You're making me blush

[RTStephens]

Rather interesting how the simple town of Ponyville has incorporated technology into it and how characters have adapted to it. Even the library wasn't spared.

I wonder how canon Applejack would think of this Applejack wearing protective gear while working on the trees. "Consarnit! Step aside and let me show you how ta buck them trees!"

I was half surprised that Fluttershy's birds were actually living things. I had half a mind that they would be machines programed to fly around and sing during the day.

"a spike in volume" - I see what you did there...

If the princess is having such difficulty dealing with the intruder, she should look into hiring Pinkie. She already hacked into Twilight's eyepiece!

Also, when Trixie is messing with the viewing crystal, was that a "I, Robot" reference? Stupid earth ponies.

Loving it! Now that the obligatory first episode is over, I await the butchering of canon!

[artisticMink]

827077
Oh, it was totally worth it. Till now, it is one of the most recognizable storys here on fimfiction

However, I try to give some feedback.

Since I'm not a native english speaker i cannot say much about grammar'n stuff. But it sounds quite right to me and its pleasant to read.
The prologue and chapter one feeled a little like China Miéville light. Which is great. I had a lot of fun reading the description of the
moloch which is now the megapolis of canterlot. While doing so, the words easily drew images into my mind.

However, i actually feel like there is something missing. The little tiny bit that chain you to the reading making your brain fool yourself with "Oh just ooone more page..." over and over again. I wish i could say you what it is but i don't have a clue Sounds silly, huh?

During some pages (i'm reading on a kindle ) i catched myself skimming over the words since i felt like they're not that important to the actual story and just there to fill some space. But some scenes 'woke me up', as example, while trixie watching the ceremony and calling the princess by that very long name. Or during the events happening to Trixie. This scenes gave me the opportunity to dig into the world and become curious about it. I think these moments deserve it to become a little more manufactured since they just fade to fast.

Jeez, that sounds awful. Please keep in mind that is critique on a quite high level and I absolutly loved the fic. I'm looking forward to read more.
My hoof of approval for this one.

Oh and.... THAT cliffhanger.

[Sanctae]

830610 Awesome! Glad you're enjoying it

831333 That's progress for you. At least, it's my take on what progress is.

Heh, yeah, I just liked the idea of having parallels to what's happened with modern farming. It's less 'workin down on the farm' and more 'agricultural engineering'. Not sayin' that's a bad thing, mind.

Spike. Heheh.

Honestly, the writing process for Trixie and the TV went something like this: "Ah crap, I need to establish that Trixie is watching the celebration but nothing else is happening that's interesting around that time. Hmm. How about she can't turn the TV on. I think I remember something along those lines happening in...something. Eh, whatever." So yeah. I was maybe 40% sure I was referencing something.

832835 Thank you. That's a hell of a compliment. I'm going to have to admit my lack of fantasy cred here, however. I am aware of China Mieville but I've never read any of his work. Most of my bookshelf comes from the hard sci-fi side of things. But from what I'm told about his style, I think I understand what you mean.

I love feedback. I genuinely want to improve and I'm also bad at seeing my own flaws. I know what you mean when you say something's missing. I can feel it when I write, that some pieces just flow and work and when I read them back they just...work. Then other times there's just nothing and they're just words. The trouble I have is that I can get so close to the passage that I can't read it 'fresh' any more; I've done so much editing to it I can't tell if it works any more.

It's interesting that you pick out the Trixie scenes as flowing better as I seem to find them easier to write. I mean, I still edit them around, of course, but I always end up happier with them in the end and I don't know why. Compared to, for example, the Rainbow Dash scene which mechanically works well, does everything it needs to, but it just feels a little dead. Like, as you say, it's just marking time and filling space.

What I am hoping is that it's the difference between writing my own story and trying to rehash someone elses. All the Trixie sections are straight from my head, obviously, whereas Twilight has been following a rather weird version of the pilot. I am hoping that, as I stop trying to force myself to copy the show, the whole thing will loosen up and I won't have so many sections that add nothing. Ah, this is an essay now. I'm going to stop.

Pointing out which sections worked nicely and which you find dull or cause you to lose immersion is incredibly helpful to me, so thanks for the feedback.

And yeah. I was going to add more to the end of that chapter, but then I thought....nah

[Carpinus Caroliniana]

So Sweet Apple Acres is a hydroponics farm? And the Wonderbolts are cybernetic flyers? Applejack in powered armor? Do want!

And it's pretty awesome to see how you made Luna and Celestia advanced AIs. And your intepretation of Nightmare Moon as a computer virus makes perfect sense.

[artisticMink]

836202

I remember the introduction of Rainbow Dash. Or, let's say, i remember that i don't remember it. Except the thing about "augmented flyers". Maybe because the mane 6 seem to be a little 'flat' in character. At last to me. Of course you adapted the series behaivor well but... you know

During the beginning scenes, i could imagine how Trixie walks trough the streets. Pulling her caravan trough a canyon of living quarters. Maybe some earth pony watching her from a window, chewing on a straw of artificial hay while thinking about that unicorn who got the nerves to stumble trough an earth pony quarter. He shakes his head and stretches his muscles. A pain, emitted from his neck, flows trough his body. Caused by using the flight frames all day long to fix ... ... ... Oh jeez! I'm babbling.

Uhm, ok let's go on to Rainbow Dash...ahem:
So, it's rainbow dash...lookin cool...like rainbow dash always is. I mean, it's rainbow dash, she's obviously the coolest pony. Mh, augmented flyers. Ok, cool.

You maybe noticed a slight difference x3 It seemed that there was more love in Trixie while Rainbow just was "work who had to be done". I'm sure you have pretty ideas for the other chars as well, maybe just let them out, doing a little less editing and see how it turns out? Guess the trick is to find a consensus between canon and own ideas.

Also you could try to get an Pre-Reader/Editor. I would totally do an application for that but sadly, my english is very humbly. I won't be any help. But i know that there are some talented editors arround here who sure can help you to make some major steps forward. Or let's say minor since the stuff you did is already pretty awesome

Maybe the best is to just ask in #fimfiction.

Oh, oh! If you've never read Miéville, you totally should give it a try. Especially his work from 2002 to 2005. (Bas-Lag storys) A good first book would be Perdido Street Station :3

[Sanctae]

844524 I've pretty much set all this stuff up. Now I can start to play with it.

846942 Yeah. I wrote it because 'Herp derp I said I'd do an homage to the pilot episode and by God I'm going to do it '.

The issue is that the show spent VERY little time on each of the mane 6 in the pilot episode. If you read the transcripts, they have, like, 5 lines of dialogue, tops. I basically doubled the amount of interaction and it still feels too little.

I should have just had the courage to come up with my own way of doing it. From what I feel and from what people are saying, where I just follow my gut and write what I want to write i.e. Trixie's plot threads, it comes out a lot better.

Well, no spoilers, but the influence from the show will drop fairly sharply soon anyway and from now on I'm just going to write my own story and not be slaved to anything besides my own plot.

I'll be interested on the feedback for the next chapter as that'll be the real test.

I already have a pre-reader, a friend who has been writing fanfiction for a while. He's extremely good for picking up on poor technical writing but tends to leave me to my own devices when it comes to the plot. And really, writing engaging character interaction is my job anyway and it shouldn't be the pre-reader's job to fix that.

I'll look it up, thanks for the reccomendation.

[Truth_Seeker]

I like the quote in your description, but TvTropes does you one better:

"Any sufficiently analyzed magic is indistinguishable from technology"

[Sanctae]

851347 Ah, there are like 50 versions of this quote. I should start building a list But yeah, I might have come up with the one in the description in 30 seconds as I suddenly felt like putting a punchy line at the top.

[djthomp]

Whoops, took me long enough to get around to this chapter.

Interesting bit with Applebloom being a "cousin", nice hint about the later on one-child policy reveal. Does that mean that Big Mac has gone the same way as Spike (in that he doesn't exist, not that he is a computer program)? Or maybe he is the apple bucking boots.

I am wondering if the bit with Rose and the ponies in the crowd is a bit of misdirection, and that the cybernetic attack came from a whole other source.

[Sanctae]

860860 I'll let you off just this once.

"Equestria's Premier Apple Delivery System, Big Mac Boots : Doodo-do-do-doo, I'm bucking it." It has two settings, and only two settings.

"Has Big Mac gone the way of Spike? Is Roseluck all she seems? How important is the number of finch species in Equestria? Find out (or not, who knows ) in the next thrilling episode of...Starworks " [Insert catchy theme song]