STAR WARS / FiM: Realms of the Heavens

by Tathem_Relag

Chapter Eleven: The Ecstasy of Gold

The Carousel Boutique
9:17 A.M.

Rarity was interrupted in the midst of designing her newest dress by the jingling of the doorbell downstairs. “I’ll be with you in just a moment, darling!”

“Of course. There’s no rush.”

She cocked her head. That wasn’t the voice of one of her regular customers, and the accent – pure Canterlot! Why would a Canterlot pony come here, instead of to Canterlot Carousel? Had one of the nobles come all this way just to have her personally design his clothes? She started panicking. Did she look presentable enough? She was always the epitome of high fashion and beauty for Ponyville, but at the moment, she was woefully unkempt by Canterlot standards. She briefly considered several hats and dresses – but no, with her mane, fur, and hooves the way they were, any attempts at sprucing herself up would be obvious as last-minute acts of desperation. She had to remain cool and confident, and hope that this noble was more accepting than most of a lower-class appearance.

“My deepest apologies for the delay,” she called, trotting down the stairs. “I didn’t expect to have the honor of serving – huh?!”

Standing there was not a well-to-do stallion, like she had expected, but instead a group of ten humans. Nine of them wore light gray battledress with black belts, knee-length boots, and elbow-length gloves, dark gray helmets, and opaque goggles, and they held those strange weapons in their hands. The last one, clearly their leader, wore the same gray-green dress uniform she had seen on the humans’ leaders, though her sharp eye for details noticed that he had fewer squares over the left side of his chest. She registered most of this only unconsciously. Her conscious mind had gathered only that there were humans in her shop and that nine of them had weapons before it froze up, anticipating the awful heat and pain that Fluttershy had eventually been persuaded to describe.

However, the pain didn’t come. Instead, the leader of the humans gave an extravagant bow. “The lovely Miss Rarity, I presume. I’m Lieutenant Kendoh, a lord of the Noble House of Girard. It is my great pleasure to make your acquaintance. The pictures really don’t do you justice.”

“A… a lord?”

“Oh, yes. We’re a minor house, but we still merit some degree of honor from the other houses.”

Rarity didn’t know what this “houses” business was about, and she really didn’t care about human nobility, but she decided that it would probably be best to at least try to act respectful. “Well, it’s… quite nice to meet you. Soooo… What can I do for you?”

The human smiled broadly. “We’ve heard that you’re the best tailor in all of Equestria, and we’d like to have you on commission. Our uniforms experience quite a bit of wear and tear, you see. Normally, we’d just ship in replacements, but we’ve decided it would help relations to stimulate the local economy a little. Of course, it certainly helps that we have someone with such talent available.”

Rarity gave him her best smile. “Oh, you’re such a flatterer.”

“Is it really flattery if it’s true?” the human replied, his grin getting even bigger.

“As much as I’d love to help you… you don’t have any bits to pay me with.”

“No, but I believe we can work out an… alternate form of payment.” The lieutenant reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a sliver of metal, eliciting a gasp from Rarity. It was unlike any metal she had ever seen before. As the human held it up, it reflected every color of the rainbow. “This,” he said with a note of pride, “is aurodium, one of the most rare, and therefore, valuable, materials in the entire galaxy. On most worlds, this small shard would sell for an amount that would let you never have to work again in your life. Of course, since this isn’t most worlds, and you have no proof that what I’m saying is true, we’ll let you have this piece to take to an appraiser and determine its value in bits. High Command’s decided that establishing good relations with your people is worth whatever price you decide on. Since the value of our credits is based on aurodium, this should also facilitate the establishment of a standard exchange rate. So, would you be willing to work with us? We’ll provide you with all the materials you’ll need, of course.”

“Well…” The aurodium was beautiful, and their fancier uniforms were quite fabulous. What harm could there be in a little tailoring? “Alright. But my other customers come first.”

The human smiled, but the body language and facial expressions of the other nine became strangely tense as she used her magic to take the aurodium. “Of course, m’lady,” their leader said, giving her another bow. “I’m just pleased we could come to an understanding. Please, let us know what value you decide upon for the aurodium.” With that, the humans walked out.

When the door closed, Rarity sniffed in disdain. “Him? A noble? Who does that brute think he’s fooling?”

---

Kendoh muttered his own true thoughts to the squad’s sergeant. “Disgusting low-born alien filth.”

---

Sweet Apple Acres
3:07 P.M.

“What the hay do you want?”

The human at Applejack’s door grinned sheepishly and ran his hand down the back of his helmet. He, as well as the other eight humans milling around in front of her house, wore the battledress of the Imperial Army. In defiance of the standard dress code for on-duty NCOs, however, their goggles were pulled up over their helmets, revealing their entire faces. “Nothin’, really,” the man replied. “The guys up top wanted us to offer y’all our help in tendin’ yer crops. Shows what they know ’bout workin’ on a farm. Winter’s comin’, ain’t it? You ain’t got any crops to tend. Heh, not that most of these boys know much better. Just ’cause we’re all Corellian don’t mean we’re all farmers. Hell, just me, Jaster, and Haken. Bevel, Cole, Zak, and Ran are city boys, and Rogan and Lancer were born and raised on the orbital stations. They wouldn’t know a well-plowed field if it reared up and bit ’em in the ass.”

Applejack, despite her suspicion, couldn’t help but laugh at that. She understood the feeling perfectly. Lots of so-called “upper class” ponies just didn’t seem to get that proper farming actually took some intelligence, and wasn’t just a case of randomly throwing seeds everywhere in the spring, lots of physical labor, and gathering the plants in the fall. There was a lot of physical work, of course, but you couldn’t be brain-dead and still be a successful farmer. “So, ya said everypony else’s name. What’s yours?”

His smile turned more comfortable, and to Applejack, it seemed genuine. “Bren. Bren Malo.” He gave her hoof a firm shake. “Nice to meet someone who don’t want to kill me, for a change. Trilon’s full of nothin’ but thugs and drug dealers. Hell, I ain’t seen a farm – a real farm, mind you, for food, not spice – for, shit, three years, now?” He glanced around, chuckling. “Feels like I’m right back at home, like Jessa’s gonna come outta the kitchen with a fresh pie, and li’l Tal’s gonna run up and hug my leg.” His face turned somber. “Not so little now, I reckon. I’ll bet he’s big enough to help his ma in the fields. Bless him, I miss the boy.”

Applejack frowned. “Ya left your family? What the hay for?”

“Farm weren’t doin’ so well,” he replied with a sigh. “It was either this, or sell, move to the city, and work in a factory. And I ain’t givin’ up the farm.” He forced a smile back on his face. “’Sides, Army’s not too bad a job. Officers can blow me, buncha stuck-up nobles, but the long hours ain’t anything new, and we don’t see much real action. Not like those stormies. Police work, mostly, breakin’ up the gangs.”

Applejack rested a sympathetic hoof on his leg. Forced to either give up the farm or be separated from her family for years… she had no idea what she’d do in such an awful situation. Actually, she did know. “Couldn’t your friends help ya?”

Bren laughed grimly. “Help? Help how? Loan me money? They barely had enough creds to keep their own farms afloat, and I’d never be able to pay ’em back. No, this was the only choice. I got five more years, then I’ll finally be able to go home. Well, assuming the farm starts doin’ better and I don’t have to reenlist.”

A sad silence extended between them. It couldn’t have lasted more than a minute, but to Applejack, it felt like hours. It was broken when Apple Bloom came down the stairs. “Who’re you talking to, sis?”

Applejack stepped to the side, though the human’s height meant that he was already clearly visible. “This here’s Bren. He’s a human, but he seems nice enough.”

Bren smiled and kneeled down as she came up to the door. “Howdy there, missy. What’s your name?”

“I’m Apple Bloom! Say, where’s your cutie mark? Do you not have it yet? I can get my friends. We’ve helped lots of ponies get their cutie marks. It’s our special talent!” A thought came to her. “Oh. Do humans not get cutie marks? Griffons don’t. I think that’s kinda sad. Not that there’s anything wrong with it! It just seems awful to never learn what your special talent is.”

Bren turned to face Applejack, giving her a weird look. “I’m sorry, but… ‘cutie mark’?” Strangely, he sounded like he was trying hard not to laugh.

“It’s a… well, a mark every pony gets on their flank when they discover their special talent.” She showed him hers. “My talent’s working the apple farm, Rarity’s is finding gems, Twilight’s is doing magic, that sorta thing.”

“Huh. I figured those were dye or something. Naw, we don’t get those. Closest thing we have are these.” He pulled off his helmet and showed them the back of his neck, which bore a strange black shape that was identical to those on his sleeves.

“What’s that?” Apple Bloom wanted to know. “What’s it mean?”

Bren stood up, putting his helmet back on. “It’s the Imperial Crest. The symbol of the Galactic Empire and our service to it. A couple of guys in boot camp managed to pressure me into getting it. Hurt like hell.”

“But… if that’s not a cutie mark… what is it?”

“A tattoo. It’s… well, I’m not exactly sure how it works. I think the pen they use gives you a shallow cut and fills it with ink. But like I said, I don’t rightly know. Anyway. Command’s not expecting us back ’til sundown, so… got anything we can help with?”

Applejack grinned. Ordinarily, she didn’t like having other ponies outside her family and close friends working on the farm – it made her feel like she wasn’t doing her share of the work. But if he was really so eager… “I’m sure we can find something for y’all to do."

Comments

[PuppetXMaster]

ah, a man who knows what it means to really work a farm, it may lack high tech and sophisticated talking but you still need to be smart to work the fields