• Published 17th Jun 2019
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The First Republic - Starscribe



One generation ago, a volcanic eruption nearly smothered all life on Equus. Ponies and griffons ended up deciding not to kill each other. Contrail is going to set down the history of the Migration War, if it doesn't kill him first.

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Chapter 17

What was your first experience with Accipio like? Equestrian records say you were sent in as a negotiator long before any formal agreements were signed.

That’s true. I had a blank canvas to work with when I started.

I was afraid—everypony was afraid of griffons back then. But I wasn’t really worried about my own life. Mons Ignis was going to erupt, and maybe kill everypony. That was the bigger threat. Coming to Accipio could’ve saved everypony.

It looks like it did.

She doesn’t respond to this, only shrugs impatiently. So not the sort of empress who will respond to flattery.

You were there for the battle between Gaius and Gabriel, weren’t you? What was that like?

I knew who I was rooting for, obviously. One side wanted to work with Equestria and maybe survive the end of the world. The other side wanted to invade and make us all die.

Did you think they would turn on you if Gabriel won?

Yes.

I wait for her to elaborate, but again she only stares off into the distance. Starlight Glimmer isn’t the kind of subject who seems interested in helping me.

After everything was signed, you supervised their compliance with the Migration treaty. Do you think they were faithful to it?

She laughs. I did at the time. But history records pretty well how that was manipulated. Their… let’s call it, ‘interpretation’ of what slaves meant was different from ours.

Some ponies were outraged we would deal with them at all. Why do you think Princess Celestia didn’t force them to give up all their slaves?

Because Celestia wanted Equestria to survive. Accipio’s army outnumbered ours ten to one. Their warships outnumbered ours five to one. They lacked most magic, but their conventional weapons were better than ours in every way. Only after seeing examples of their firearms did Equestria ever make any of our own. We never saw the need to improve our ways of killing each other, since for us it’s so uncommon. Most Accipians belong to a militia and own their own weapons, even today. How many ponies do you know with a weapon of their own?

None.

Exactly. It was distasteful, but starting a war over the injustice of their slavery would’ve guaranteed both nations died to Mons Ignis. I knew that better than most ponies, and I put it in every single letter. We couldn’t win a conventional war. Celestia and Luna were immensely powerful, but they couldn’t be everywhere at once. Even the power of the Alicorns is finite. While they won every battle, armies elsewhere would be losing the war. And there was the Voidsteel.

You thought that bringing them to Equestria was the safest option, then.

They were coming either way. At least with the treaty they’d be leaving their warships at home.

That was the idea, anyway. It didn’t work out like that.

From her expression, it seems that Starlight believes I’ve insulted her. No, it did. At first. We were very good about watching the skies for anything that looked like a warship. House Virtue didn’t bring any, or not any that hadn’t been converted into more peaceful vessels. But there were other houses, and Equestria is large. We couldn’t watch the sky everywhere.

Once they came to Equestria, you lived in New Scythia with them. Were they more moderate then?

Less. They were displaced, and most birds thought that we were the ones plotting to enslave them. It is what they’d do. New Scythia was better than most places, it actually tried to be a real city. Hired pegasus weatherponies and everything. I spent most of my time with them, when I wasn’t with Velar.

You saved his life.

We have that in common.

I have no response to that, though I dutifully scribble down her answer, wondering if I’ll survive Twilight’s reading of all this when I finally make it back to her court.

Lots of ponies helped with the battle over Equestria. But you did more than most. What really happened?

For a few moments I wonder if she’s going to answer me at all. Her expression fades to something pained and distant, remembering. Finally she speaks. You’re not the only pony who wants to know about that. But if I tell you, it’ll go in your book. Maybe some things are better off forgotten.”

I’ve had uncooperative witnesses before, particularly when somepony does something they’re guilty about. In every case, I’ve found the best way to get them to change their mind and speak is to return to the same subject less directly than before.

You were a hero. In her only memoirs on the Migration War, Princess Celestia wrote that you ‘saved all Equestria.’ Don’t you think ponies should know how?

They should know better than to replicate the things I did. But maybe it would be better to just tell you, and avoid the information getting diluted too many times. But I’m not going to tell you how, is that clear? Just what I did.

Sure.

I’ve been a student of fringe magic for a long time. I’d done some terrible things, much worse than what I did in New Scythia in the end. But that was behind me then, and I was studying beneath Twilight Sparkle. She and her friends like to ‘reform’ ponies who had made mistakes.

I couldn’t really tell what this had to do with saving a town from an invading army, but I didn’t interrupt her. Presumably if she went on for long enough, it would all make sense. I just listened, making meaningful eye-contact and dutifully scribbling everything down.

I studied magic nopony should’ve known, including ways to manipulate ponies. When we landed in New Scythia, I saw an army that was completely overcome with hatred. They were burning everything, killing mares and children, filling the streets with blood. It was cruelty beyond what I would’ve thought possible. So I… I turned the army on itself. I made them feel all that same hatred for each other.

She shook slightly as she spoke, resting her head on the edge of the railing.

I freeze completely still, pen in my wing as I try to make sense of what she just said. Some kind of… emotional manipulation, or maybe mind control?

The whole army at once?

The Vengeance army, and anypony else who didn’t put their weapons down. That kind of magic is more like a sledgehammer than a scalpel. But there’s a reason why Celestia was so eager to see it destroyed, and why Twilight who replaced her is even willing to permit a few book-burnings. It’s all for a good cause.

Was there any other way?

At the time, I didn’t even think there was that way. I had never tried a spell so powerful before, I’d never tried to isolate it so specifically. But the Vengeance army was killing everyone. It couldn’t get much worse.

So you took care of the army, and your husband fought the challenger?

Gabriel’s son? Yes. But not my husband at the time. That was, that came later. Probably best not to get into too much detail about how, unless you’re writing a different kind of history than I thought you were.


Around that moment, Dawn finally arrived, hurrying up the loading ramp to the Daughter of Wintergreen with a set of heavy saddlebags on her back and a traveling cloak on her shoulders. It was totally white, with gold thread along the hem and back, depicting the three pillars of house Virtue. A simple design, but enough that every creature in the crowd got out of her way all the way to the ship.

“You done tormenting him yet, Mother?”

Starlight turned, then gestured at his pad of paper. “You should be able to see it’s the opposite, Dawn. I gave him the interview he wanted.”

“Yay!” Dawn hurried over to her, hugging her tightly. She was taller than Starlight by several inches, as tall as I was and maybe even a little more. But Starlight didn’t seem to mind.

They broke apart after a few seconds, and Dawn glanced back at the city. The sky, specifically—she seemed to be searching for something. When she didn’t find it, she said, “Are you sure it’s a good idea to, uh… rush like this, Mom? I know Dad must’ve been terrified for me…”

She nodded, gesturing vaguely with one hoof. Glowing patterns appeared there, little spheres and flags and lines connecting them all. “This exchange is how power moves through a system, Dawn. What should matter to you is that your, uh… your relationship with your friend here grows more secure the longer it lasts. Unless you don’t want it to continue to exist. Then you should stay.”

For a few seconds, I felt Dawn’s eyes on me, and I shifted uncomfortably, looking away. If she wanted to turn back to her palace, I wouldn’t blame her. How could I judge another for not being willing to give up luxuries I’d never known?

Dawn shook her head. “That makes sense. But what happens when we’re done with the official visit to New Scythia? You wanted to… meet an administrator or something, Contrail?”

I nodded. It didn’t feel like I should have an opinion in this conversation. Twilight is going to kill me for this.

“Visit Griffinstone,” Starlight suggested. “Then make your friend here return your generosity and give you a tour of Equestria. You always wanted a chance to visit, now’s your chance.”

“I, uh…” I hesitated for another second longer, but there were some things that had to be said. “I only have the airship for a few months.”

“Well, that won’t do at all.” Starlight Glimmer turned slightly towards the palace, her horn glowing. “Captain Bluejacket, we should speak further!”

He hurried over, lowering his head respectfully to her. There wasn’t even a hint of fear on that gnarled old face. He did know her. “Yes, Empress?”

“Would your crew be inclined to continue serving my daughter on retainer for, say… eleven months, after your existing contract ends?” Magic flashed, and she held a stack of notes in front of him. Accipian paper money. I didn’t really understand it, but I knew it could be exchanged for real money at their treasury.

He nodded, eyeing the stack. Starlight flipped through it for him, showing him the denominations. “For so much, your daughter could have finer accommodations than mine. We’re… an old, humble ship.”

Starlight shrugged. “Then use some of this to modernize your vessel. Understand, part of what is valuable to me is the convenience of an Equestrian ship already in my port. I trust she won’t ask you to go anywhere too dangerous.”

“Mt. Aris!” she exclaimed, bouncing up and down eagerly. “Father always said there was no reason to go to a single city half-sunk in the ocean, but… I want to see it. You’d go with me, wouldn’t you Contrail?”

I nodded. But I’d already gone with her through the underworld, so it wasn’t like she could ask to go anywhere worse. “I have to finish this book and defend my thesis,” I said. “After that, I’d be free to go… anywhere.”

“Then there’s only one more warning to give.” Starlight leaned in close, lowering her voice to a whisper. We could both still hear her, anyway. “Dawn, if you’re still interested in… if this relationship lasts, write to your father often. Going off on an adventure like this, it’s the kind of decision he will understand.”

She put one hoof on Dawn’s mouth, silencing whatever she was about to say. “But don’t formalize it until you return for his blessing. Your father is one of the most accepting, loving birds I’ve ever met. But he’s still a bird, and they’re proud creatures. Don’t give him a reason to be unhappy with your decisions, and he’ll see the sense in them. Are we clear?”

Dawn nodded reluctantly. “I guess.”

“Then enjoy your trip.” She turned to me. “For your sake, Contrail. I hope you can support that bravery of yours with competence.”