Supermare: The Rising

by Alsvid

II.

FOUR HOURS EARLIER...

Jane Pierpoint Morgan owns an office suite at the topmost floor of the J.P Morgan Building in Manehattan's Financial District where she is attended to by her array of aides and domestic servants. Floor-to-ceiling, bulletproof glass panes offer an impressive skyline view of Manehattan.

Her office is vast, as befitting a popular, extremely successful, powerful Equestrian capitalist such as herself; her chair is a huge leather affair decorated with gold, towering behind her like a throne. Her office and its regalia are all testament to her financial gains.

Her desk is a gigantic mahogany object polished to a sheen, with a green-shaded banker’s lamp made of gold. Her inbox and outbox trays are solid steel. Her documents are fastidiously organized. She owns a classic gold fountain pen and ink, and her own personal ink stamp to verify her identity.

Her PC is an impressive piece of machinery; a Grapefruit G8 all-in-one with a 40-inch display, and a proprietary VR headset.

Her office floor is covered in dark wine-red carpeting, lit by unobtrusive ensconced LED lights that throw a warm, pleasant light. The far side of the wall opposing her desk is host to an array of 62-inch LED displays showing the Equestrian Stock Exchange, a live news feed from a popular Equestrian news channel, and a instantly updated overview of the global financial markets.

Bookshelves with heavy leather tomes cover the eastern wall of her office. A globe about as high as a stallion stands in the corner. A larger-than-life marble sculpture corner of the Princess Celestia in a contemplative pose, clad in a flowing white robe, dominates the opposite corner. It is so finely carved that its surface is smooth to the touch, its subject seeming almost to breathe, as though it were upon the verge of rising from its plinth and approaching the viewer.

Jane’s personal maid, a tiny little Unicorn filly, approximately eight or nine years old, with a bright pink mane and a yellow coat, a youthful body with slender hips and shoulders, chubby, yet strong little arms and legs, a round, wide-eyed face, clad in a beautiful, frilly white-and-black maid uniform with a knee-high dress, is pouring her a fresh cup of tea from an elegant blue-and-white fine China tea set sitting on a tea table nearby.

Behind Jane, at her right, is a ceiling-high curio cabinet displaying many small works of art - finely wrought silverware, sculptures, jewelry, knives, vizards (an antiquated term for a mask), and maps.

On the western wall of her office is a large portrait painting of a old Unicorn stallion with a huge, muscular body and a cruel, sharp face lined with age, frowning intently with his bushy grey brows. He did not appear to be the sort of person who can be reasoned with; the barely contained swells of muscle placing tension upon his suit and his large, powerful hands imply that he was once capable of badly injuring smaller ponies, perhaps even killing them, without the aid of a weapon.

He is wearing a bespoke black business suit and a black silk top hat. Underneath the portrait is a gold plaque reading “JULIUS PIERPOINT MORGAN - FOUNDER OF J.P. MORGAN CO.”

Jane P. Morgan, Julius’s offspring, is reclining luxuriously in her office chair; she is a young Unicorn mare, barely out of her filly stage, slender-bodied, narrow-waisted, wide-hipped, small of shoulder, with firm thighs, and strong, slender arms.

Her long, elegantly styled blonde mane, adorned with a large white ribbon about reaching nearly down to her lower back. It shines like spun gold in a brilliant contrast with her light grey coat accentuated by her flamboyant green and gold dress bedecked with fine satin, lace, and large silken frills, exposing the heavy, round swells of her grey-coated breasts, the firm, nubile expanses of her silky thighs, her small shoulders and upper arms.

Jane’s green leather high-heeled boots are wickedly sharp, with six-inch high, gleaming steel spikes for heels, reaching nearly up to her thigh. Her neck, fingers, and wrists are covered in glittering 18 karat gold jewelry, finely-wrought, understated pieces of artwork that accentuate her natural beauty instead of distracting from it.

She has razor-sharp yellow eyes, large and liquid and utterly unyielding.

Jane lifts one elegantly silk-gloved hand, extending her long, ladylike fingers in a luxurious gesture.

“What’s next on our agenda, Advantage?”

Competitive Advantage, Jane’s secretary, steps forward. She is a Unicorn mare a little older than Jane, taller by a head, utterly forbidding in her demeanor, with hooded, narrow turquoise eyes and ruby-red lips bearing the merest trace of a self-assured smirk. Her waist-length red mane cascades down her back and upper shoulders, secured with a white ribbon at the top of her head, contrasting with her pink coat.

She is quite lean and svelte in figure, with a slender body, a perfectly flat stomach, long legs and arms, and her uniform quite compliments her trim figure. She is resplendent in a silky black frock-coat with white trimming, a white leather collar, a thigh-high black tube skirt, black stockings, and black leather high-heels.

Upon approaching Jane’s desk, she defers to her superior with a sweeping bow, inclining her upper body with a flourish, then straightening.

“Yes, my lady! Next is your meeting with the Vanguard Financial Group.”

Jane leans back in her chair, steepling her slender, ladylike fingers; she narrows her eyes, smiling confidently.

“Ah, yes. Those second-rate bankers.” A note of displeasure creeps into Jane’s voice. “May I ask why I am being troubled by them? I was led to believe that our hostile takeover of their firm had been all but secured and that no further negotiation was necessary. Why do they continue to persist in this foolish endeavor?”

Competitive Advantage, sensing discomfort, hastens to explain herself in the fluid, utterly reflexive manner of a highly trained business secretary.

“My lady, the CEO thought it best that he discuss the matter in person with you. He insisted that nothing would do but that you receive him as a guest. I don’t know why he’s continuing to resist; your Legal Operations Department has already firmly encircled him and purchased majority share in his firm from their respective stockholders at a price far above what it was worth, in my professional opinion, if I may be allowed to mention it…”

“Continue,” Jane says, in a bored voice, half-lidding her large, beautiful yellow eyes.

“...that said, it grieves me to besmirch your noble office with his presence, but there was nothing for it and I was all but forced to concede to his demands.”

“Is that so?” Jane arches one perfect blonde eyebrow. “Well, we shall make him regret it fully. I had originally intended to be merciful; that time is now past. I shall take everything from him and leave him with nothing. He will learn what it means to cross me. Erytheia!”

“Yes, my lady?” The tiny Earth filly maid at Jane’s side perks up.

“Watch this closely. I’m about to show you my true power.” Jane laughs; her voice is a gentle, musical, fluting sound, refined and proper in its carefully neutral Middle Equestrian accenting.

“Advantage, go see to it that our guests are properly escorted to my office. Summon my private security detail and my Director of Legal Operations as well.”

Advantage, who is already making her way down to the doors at the far end of the office, pauses in her tracks. “Oho.” She smiles. “You’re really doing it, then, my Lady?”

“Of course.” Jane accepts her teacup from Erytheia and brings it to her soft, pillowy lips, taking a delicate little sip. She swallows slowly, her slender throat bobbing up and down. “Are you questioning me?”

“Not at all, my Lady!” Competitive Advantage hastens to assure her, bowing very deeply. “I meant no offense.”

Jane eyes her thoughtfully. Placing her cup back upon its saucer, she continues.

“I shall overlook your breach of protocol for now, Miss Advantage.”

“Thank you, my Lady.”

“Since you’ve been so nice, I’ll elaborate further. I shall strike such fear into their hearts that they will leave here permanently changed. They will surrender entirely to me and I shall acquire every single last bit of their capital. It will be a glorious victory for J. P. Morgan, as expected. No one can withstand my ability. They will turn violent, as I expect from these lowlives, and I shall have them restrained.”

Jane pauses for a moment; her aides and attendants watch her expectantly.

“I do so love restraining others,” Jane says. Her lips part; she runs her long, muscular pink tongue over her flawless white teeth.

Competitive Advantage’s cheeks darken slightly at this. Little Erytheia blinks innocently.

Jane rises from her chair slightly, narrowing her eyes, baring her teeth. “Well? What are you waiting for? Hurry up!” Jane commands her secretary. “I’d like to conclude this matter swiftly.”

“I apologize, my Lady. At once, my Lady!” Advantage hastens to obey, exiting the room with a purposeful stride.

Jane settles back in her chair and resumes once more her task of fully enjoying her tea. She lifts the cup, inhaling the gentle aroma. “Orange pekoe? Very good, Erytheia. You chose splendidly. I shall reward you for this.”

Erytheia responds with a small curtsey. “Thank you, my Lady.”

Jane crosses one elegant, slender leg over the other in a restrained, measured movement, and resumes watching the news channel, where an excited-looking young Earth pony mare, her mane perfectly coiffed, resplendent in a white suit, flanked by a young Pegasus stallion, is jabbering rapidly at her audience from behind a desk.

“..the protests calling upon the Manehattan Mayor to raise the minimum wage have erupted in violent rioting, with some masked protesters breaking windows in the district and setting fire to trashcans! Manehattan Law Enforcement responded swiftly, using water cannons and pepper spray to quell the riots.”

Images of Manehattan Law Enforcement officer ponies, resplendent in the latest, high-tech riot control gear, backed up by large armored personnel vehicles bristling with water cannons, raising their weapons to attack a knot of protesting ponies, occupy the screen behind the news reporters.

The Pegasus stallion at her side smirks. “Quite a story, Rosetta. Of course, now we’ve got to wonder why these rioters can’t just go get jobs. Surely they’ve got enough free time to submit applications if they can stand around protesting…”

Jane frowns ever so slightly, placing her cup back upon its saucer. “If it were up to me, I’d have those rioters all shot,” she remarks, her voice dripping scorn. “As far as I’m concerned, the accursed law enforcement is too soft. We need more law and order. We need a tougher police force that isn’t scared to dirty its hands in repelling the attacks of these criminals.”

“Really, my Lady?” Erytheia responds, wide-eyed.

“Indeed.” Jane’s frown darkens, her beautiful blonde brows furrowing. “The Mayor of Manehattan is a disgrace to her office for even allowing these verminous filth to dirty up our city streets with their ilk. I may just see to it that she is ousted from her position if she continues to upset me.”

Jane sets her teacup and saucer upon her desk, and grins. “Perhaps I might arrange something more serious, depending on my mood.” Her yellow eyes gleam.

She assumes a thoughtful pose, one elegant hand upon her cheek. So engrossed in her own malevolent thoughts is she that when someone knocks on her door, she jumps slightly, and then promptly glares at poor little Erytheia, frustrated that someone saw her lose her facade of calm, even for a second.

“Go and answer the door! What am I paying you for? Your good looks?” Jane commands.

“At once, my Lady!” Erytheia trots over to the door, opening it and peeking outside. “Amicus Curiae, Director of Legal Operations, to see you, my lady.”

Amicus Curiae, a svelte, attractive young Unicorn mare with piercing blue eyes and a waist-length platinum blonde mane, strides in, resplendent in a red-and-gold cape, a white, tight-fitting bodysuit that hugs the curves of her breasts and rump, her slim thighs and arms, and black leather elbow-length gloves. She is wearing a Germane Empire-era Pickelhaube helmet, wrought of steel and decorated with gold.

Upon entering, she approaches Jane’s desk and bows very low, doffing her helmet and tossing her head, setting her long blonde mane flowing about her shoulders. “Good morning, my Lady. You wished to see me?”

“Yes. There’s some work you’ve left unfinished, Miss Curiae.”

Amicus gasps. “My...my lady?”

“That merger with Vanguard. It would seem as though your efforts have been repelled to a certain degree, forcing me to attend to the matter personally. I admit, I was looking for an excuse to leave my seaside manor, but this crime-ridden, verminous garbage heap of a city is hardly what I would call ideal, wouldn’t you agree?”

Amicus grits her teeth, her gloved hands curling into fists. “Yes, my Lady! I apologize for my oversight, my Lady.”

Jane grins, closing one eye. “No, you have done well, my trap. You are not at fault for Vanguard’s persistence in their failure.”

“Even so, my Lady...I shall rectify this issue immediately! I admit, I am somewhat taken aback...I was certain that Vanguard would fall, as all the other banks had before your withering assault…”

“Assault is such an ugly word, Miss Curiae. I prefer the term “friendly acquisition.” Our friends in the mainstream Equestrian media no doubt agree.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

Jane swirls her teacup about, watching the liquid within stir. “I suppose I shall overlook your error for now. You shall have your chance to counter-attack very shortly.”

“Thank you, my Lady. ”

Jane nods, and drains her teacup, placing it upon Erytheia’s tray with her saucer. “A fresh cup,” she orders, to nobody in particular. Erytheia hastens to obey, instantly preparing a new cup for Jane. “Here, my Lady.”

“Splendid.” Jane accepts the proffered cup, settling back in her chair.

The chastened Amicus takes up a seat at Jane’s right hand side.

There is another gentle tap at Jane’s door. Erytheia trots over to the door in a hasty clippety-clop, her skirts all a-flutter.

“Your secretary and the Vanguard Financial Group have returned. Shall I let them in, my Lady?”

“You may,” Jane commands.

Competitive Advantage enters, taking up her place at Jane’s side once again, with the air of somepony about to watch a professional sporting match.

A middle-aged Earth pony stallion with a brown coat and a short red mane, looming an entire two heads over Competitive Advantage, brawny and muscular, wide-chested, with arms and legs as thick and resilient as young trees sporting heavily developed biceps and quads, and a washboard stomach rippling with hard, defined abdominals, clad in heavy grey plate armor that makes his huge frame seem even larger, storms into the office, his iron-shod hooves thundering upon the floor. He is heavily armed; a greatsword hangs over his back.

He is followed by a young Unicorn mare with a baby-blue coat and an even lighter blue mane reaching well down to her lower back.

She is wearing a steel Royal Guard helmet, a black leather bikini straining to contain the enormous swells of her breasts, a leather thong stretched taut around her rump (her cutie mark, a red gem on a white book, is left bare), and leather sandals; a blue cape completes her ensemble. She, too, is bearing arms - a bastard sword hangs at her hip. She is wearing an ostentatious pearl necklace, the large, lustrous beads pooling between her breasts.

An elderly Unicorn mare - so old her mane and coat are both gray - clad in a nightsky-blue hooded robe trails in their wake, leaning upon a staff.

Jane casts an amused eye over them. “Good morning. You must be the CEO of Vanguard, Gorlois Dux.”

The warlike Earth Pony stallion huffs sharply. “That would be me, yes. You must be the infamous Jane Morgan we’ve been hearing so much about.”

“And who might the bimbo in the black leather be?” Jane looks askance at the young Unicorn mare in Gorlois’s wake.

Before Gorlois can answer, the Unicorn mare opulently strides forward, her heavy breasts bouncing. She laughs scornfully behind one gloved hand.

“Ohohohohoho!”

Jane winces slightly at the Unicorn mare’s voice.

The Unicorn mare lets out another refined laugh. “Ahahahahaha! So, who is this reckless person who was FOALISH enough to challenge the most attractive, intelligent, and powerful secretary in all of Manehattan, Morgause Tintagel?”

Morgause crosses her arms under her breasts, and tilts her head back, sneering at Jane. “Oh, well, time to go to work. Please don’t take this personally, little girl. We’ve brought the Director of Legal Operations, Merilyn, to oversee this matter.”

She flings out one elegant, naked arm at the elderly Unicorn mare hobbling towards the desk.

“What, that skeleton? Where’d you dig up that old fossil?” Jane giggles.

Merilyn blinks at Jane slowly, through bleary brown eyes frosted with cataracts. She moves her toothless jaw slowly, and then finally speaks.

“Well, I never! You children today are so wicked! In my day, we respected our elders! I blame Princess Celestia for going too soft on you young ones, I swear, the day she issued the order to stop paddling your tiny backsides in school was the worst in Equestria’s history! You know, it doesn’t cost you a single penny to be polite to others, and with all your money, I daresay you needn’t be worried about that in the first place! I used to be young and attractive like you once!”

“Really?” Jane says. Gorlois crosses his arms over his wide chest; Morgause runs her hands over her long blue mane, grinning self-assuredly.

”You’re Celestia-damned right, child!” Merilyn continues, irritably. “In fact, I’d say I was better looking than you! It was not so long ago that I was acting under the orders of Princess Celestia herself…”

Merilyn extends one trembling, liver-spotted, claw-like hand. “Flashback spell!”

Instantly, the scene changed; they all found themselves standing in Princess Celestia’s throne room, as a young, effervescent Unicorn mare with a purple coat, her pink mane in long twin-tails, wearing a white tank-top baring her slim arms and flat belly, and skin-tight red leather hot-pants, approaches the throne.

“That’s you?!” Jane gasps.

“Yes!” Merilyn wheezes. “Surprised? I wasn’t born old, you know!”

“This is quite interesting!” Morgause remarks, eating a handful of popcorn from a bowl she had summoned. “You never told me you worked for the Princess, Merilyn.”

“You never asked, you young snip! That’s the problem with you young ponies; you don’t listen to anyone!”

Princess Celestia spoke.

“...and so, I order you to go to Ponyville and make friends with the locals there.”

“Must I, your Majesty?” the young Merilyn protested.

Princess Celestia smiled mysteriously. “You find your task difficult?”

“Not at all, your Majesty!” Merilyn assured her. “It’s just...Ponyville is so far away! I hardly think there is much opportunity there for me to advance my career…”

“Is that all you were worried about, Merilyn? Don’t be; there will be adequate challenges for you to conquer.”

“Really, your Majesty?”

“Of course. Would I ever lie, my precious student?”

“This is a familiar story,” Gorlois remarked, helping himself to Morgause’s popcorn.

Merilyn struck the floor with the butt of her walking staff; the illusion broke in an instant, and they all found themselves back in Jane’s office.

Jane yawned luxuriously behind one gloved hand. “Well, that was all very interesting, I’m sure…”

“Of course it was!” Merilyn admonished her. “I had my way with all the stallions and mares I could have possibly wanted back then...now just because I’m a little older than before you think you can disrespect me? I’ll put an end to all your mischief today, just see if I don’t! If I were a little younger, I’d put you over my knee and give you a proper thrashing! You’ll come to a sticky end one day, child, with all your bad attitude, and don’t think for one second that all your money will save you from your evil deeds.”

Competitive Advantage tilts her head back slightly, watching Morgause with a faint sneer playing about her lips and brows while Merilyn vents her spleen at Jane.

“Go on, then, you big lug!” Merilyn waves a shaky hand at Gorlois. “Do what you were going to do!”

Gorlois scowls darkly at Jane. “Right! Listen well to what I’m about to say, little girl.”

“Yes, listen to him! This is the prestigious CEO of Vanguard Financial speaking!” Morgause adds, grinning widely. Merilyn staggers over to a chair and plumps down in it; the elderly Unicorn mare does not seem well-suited to standing up for long.

Gorlois advances towards Jane’s desk, planting his armored fists upon it.

“I’ve watched you closely, Miss Morgan! You’ve been acquiring every single small bank in the Northeastern Equestrian region! What are you intending to do? Do you really think you can control the flow of capital in this area?”

Jane narrows her eyes. She bares her teeth in a grin.

“So tell me, Gorlois. Who would be better suited to the task than me? Why don’t you just give up now, swear fealty to me, and leave with the tiny shreds of dignity you so desperately cling to? Or are you too stupid to realize when you’ve been beaten? Must I spell it out for you? Your reign is over, Gorlois! Your precious Vanguard Financial Group has already been destroyed! You will surrender to J.P. Morgan Co.!”

“Enough of these stupid sayings!” Gorlois bellows at her, spit flying from his muzzle. “Are you even listening to yourself?! You think I’m going to let you do as you please? There are laws…”

“My money can overrule them.”

Gorlois chokes. “You...you...you can’t possibly be serious!”

“Oh, I am. In fact, once my plan has reached fruition, I shall become powerful enough to overthrow Princess Celestia herself!”

Jane takes an elegant little sip of tea. Her long pink tongue runs over her lips slowly.

“Consider this; the Princess Celestia has idiotically spelled her own doom by allowing the acquisition of capital. The moment she minted the first bit, she ended her legacy and opened the door for powerful capitalists like myself to take control of Equestria. Dimwits like you, Gorlois, are wasting your true potential by failing to acquire every single bit of capital that lies before you. Who do you think owns the taxi companies in Manehattan? The supermarkets? In an instant I can prevent all of Manehattan from eating, if I desire it! With a single stroke of my pen, I can close the ports and prevent anyone from exiting or entering the city! Who did you think was the authority here? The mayor?”

Jane snorted, to show what she thought of that. “No, the real authority here is my company. Your first mistake, Gorlois, was your complete and utter ineptitude regarding the nature of your opponent. I intend to challenge Princess Celestia herself and reshape this world so that finance controls everything. No Princesses, no royalty; only the Bank of Equestria and everything that belongs to it.”

Morgause covers her mouth with her hands, utterly shocked at this practically heretical statement. Merilyn presses one thin hand to her ribcage and collapses to the floor.

“Merilyn! Are you all right? Quick, a revival spell…!” Morgause claps her hands together, her horn glowing, and then presses her hands to Merilyn’s aged chest. The elderly Unicorn mare’s eyes flutter open. “Where...what…?” she murmurs weakly.

Jane grins. “Gorlois, it would seem as though your legal defenses have fallen apart. Why do you insist on fighting me? Even with all your power…”

She sets her teacup and saucer upon her desk, and leans forward, resting her elegant chin in one hand.

“...you won’t be able to defeat me. Please give up. You have nothing left.”

Unbidden, Amicus Curiae strides forth, placing a stack of legal documents on the table before Gorlois.

“There’s a list of statements from all your stockholders declaring their intent to sell their shares to J.P. Morgan Co. While you were bloviating and bellowing your fury at Lady Jane, your company was being sold from underneath you. You were tricked, Gorlois! While your attentions were elsewhere, we have already completed our acquisition of your financial firm.”

Gorlois slams one huge fist upon Jane’s desk. “No! I won’t give in!”

“Why?” Jane asks, wholly curious.

“Somepony has to stand up to you!” Gorlois points his armored hand at her. “You can’t go unopposed!”

“Oh, I’m sure. It won’t be you, though.”

Morgause timidly grasps Gorlois’s upper arm. “Hadn’t we better do as she says, dear? I don’t think we can fight this thing…”

“I’m gonna fight this thing, Morgause.”

“Please don’t, Gorlois.”

“You should listen to your secretary, Gorlois,” Jane advises them both. “I wonder who is really operating Vanguard Financial, now that I come to think of it. It certainly can’t be you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gorlois bellows at her.

Jane settles back in her chair, crossing one elegant thigh over the other slowly. “I mean that you’re too stupid to have possibly made all the decisions in your company. Say what you want about me, but I don’t hide behind my secretary’s skirt. Or, in your case, her micro-sized leather thong. By the way, does your wife know about her?”

Gorlois pales. “You...you wouldn’t dare…”

Jane grins. “Ah, so you have, in fact, committed a few indiscretions with Morgause. That alone was obvious the moment I laid eyes on that brainless bimbo you tote around with you.”

Morgause shrieks with rage. “Now listen here, you flat-chested little-”

“Quiet, you. Or would you like me to inform your husband about your midnight soirees with your boss?”

Morgause turns pale. Jane grins, draining her teacup.

“You look tense, Morgause. Is it because you’re tired?”

“Tired? Of what?”

“Of spreading your thighs all the time.”

Morgause lifts her hands over her head. “All right! That’s it! I’ve had enough of your mouth, missy!”

“Oh? Aren’t you used to having strange ponies put their mouths on you?”

Morgause’s hands and horn glow. “We’ll see about that! Fire-”

“Security…” Jane says, almost sounding bored.

The doors blow open. Six huge, muscular Pegasus mares barge in; they are taller than Gorlois by almost half a head. They make an utterly terrifying sight in their all-black military fatigues, knee-pads, bulletproof vests, jackboots, helmets, goggles, gloves, and radio units.

In seconds, one of them has grasped Morgause’s arms and wrenched them back down.

Morgause starts to cry. “Don’t! Please...you’re hurting me!”

“Be quiet!” the mare holding her screams into her ears.

“I believe I’ve made my point crystal clear, Morgause. Release her,” Jane orders her security detail.

The Pegasus mare complies, though not before pushing Morgause to her knees before Jane.

“Now, consider this, Gorlois,” Jane says, standing up from her chair. “I could command my security detail to beat the two of you to death, and nobody would hold me accountable. In fact, I could even have my personal news agency depict the two of you as violent, insane criminals who accosted me in my office, and I’d be lauded a heroine for bringing your crime spree to a halt.”

She leans over her desk, pointing at the stricken Morgause, who has curled up into the fetal position, still crying.

“Your little ones will grow up without a mother. Your husband will blame himself. He will start to drink heavily and take risks with his life. Perhaps he’ll fly into a mountain while drunk at full speed and break his neck, or he’ll probably even just actually kill himself one day when everything looks absolutely hopeless.”

Jane rounds on Gorlois. “And what about your wife? Can she handle the strain of raising your spoilt brats alone? Without the power of Vanguard Financial Group, she’ll probably end up turning tricks in a dark alleyway and then die herself from some unfortunate accident.”

She pokes at Gorlois’s breastplate armor; her horn glows briefly. Gorlois’s breastplate shatters, falling upon the floor in two equal halves, leaving his powerful upper chest bare.

Jane runs her fingertips over the bare flesh of Gorlois’s steely pectoral muscle, her eyes narrowing. Gorlois shudders, and recoils from Jane’s touch.

“Speaking of accidents,” Jane continues, “Who’s to say that, perhaps, a brake line on your company vehicle won’t mysteriously spring a leak while you’re going home tonight, Gorlois?”

Gorlois withdraws entirely. “No more. Please. I beg of you. I was wrong! You can have my firm.”

“Of course you were,” Jane says, sitting back in her chair. “Miss Curiae, my pen, if you would be so kind, and the documentation affirming our acquisition of your firm.”

Gorlois signs the papers like a stallion half-dead. He has an utterly blank look in his eyes.

“Thank you,” Jane says with tremendous irony. She produces a cigarette; Amicus, Erytheia, and Competitive all rush to offer a light. Jane observes them carefully, and finally chooses Amicus’s lighter. She draws in a deep lungful of smoke, exhaling it slowly in a fine blue cloud. Already she has returned to watching the news channel on her array of screens at the far end of the room.

Gorlois picks up the still shellshocked Morgause. “Come, Morgause. We’re leaving.”

“To where?” Morgause whimpers.

“I just want to be away from her.” It is obvious who “her” is.

Morgause closes her eyes as Gorlois leaves the room.

Merilyn laboriously rises to her hooves. “As usual, everyone forgot about me. That’s the curse of old age for you…”

On her way out, she faces Jane boldly. One of the heavily muscled, giant Private Security Detail Pegasus mares advances on her, raising one huge hand. “No closer!”

Merilyn stares at the security guard levelly. “What, afraid of an old mare like me, little one? You needn’t worry. I don’t go in much for hand-to-hand combat these days.”

Chastened, the security guard retreats, blushing furiously.

Merilyn brushes herself off with one trembling hand, leaning on her staff. “May I ask a question, your Royal Highness?” she chirrups, her voice thick with irony.

Jane laughs. “You’ve got a lot of grit, old-timer. I might just hire you if you don’t keel over in the next year…”

“I ain’t dead yet!” Merilyn shouts. “I wouldn’t work for you anyway, you little snip! Princess Celestia made us do things without insulting us. I don’t see why you’ve got to be so offensive. It’s not very nice. Anyway, why is it that almost all of your aides are Unicorns?”

Jane stares at her levelly for an entire minute before answering.

“Because Unicorns are Superior to all other races, of course!”

Merilyn gazes back at her impassively; her expression is utterly neutral, impassive.

At length she responds, in flat tones.

“Oh, you’re one of those. You’re not very smart, are you? Ah, well...you’ll grow up eventually. If you even live that long.”

“What does that mean?” Jane asked her, peevishly.

“Figure it out yourself, o superior being.” Merilyn left, closing the door behind her.

Jane scowls, and throws her pen at Merilyn’s retreating back, but only succeeds in hitting the door.

“Damn her! How dare she threaten me?!” Jane fumes.

Competitive Advantage places a hand on Jane’s naked shoulder. “It doesn’t matter, my Lady. We have won; that is all that matters.”

“Yes. Still…” Jane looks pensive.

Author's Note:

So, hi, hello! What was supposed to be a quick introductory scene at first became a very complex one, a sort of frame story for the entire fic explaining the nature of the Manehattan and by association the Equestria within.

Therefore, we now go backwards in time and get acquainted with this city; first by examining one of the ponies who really runs the city. She should remind you of a number of people and ponies. She's a very familiar figure and quite similar to many characters - real and fictional - that we are currently facing in our daily lives.

Comments

[Alsvid]

8339297

The best part is that there are people in real life who are just like her.
Does she remind you of anyone? I am sure she is quite familiar to you.