Hand of the Ancients

by Starscribe

Chapter 16

Lyra lowered herself awkwardly to the grass below a deep blue sun. She'd come not to a world this time, but a building without a planet. "I will not keep you for long. I know the ship you left behind is eager to have its captain returned. And your crew—strange as they are—I would not wish to cause them undue distress."

Up close, the metal figure before her was only more perplexing. It wore a uniform over its golden body, similar in design to the jumpsuits that Computer gave Time Turner and Muffins. Vulcan had short strands of golden hair, forming an elegant sculpture. To Lyra's eyes, the ends of those strands still seemed sharp enough to tear flesh if she touched them.

The body she'd chosen was feminine like her voice, but not delicate. Lyra's imagination conjured an earth pony mare before her, maybe with an anvil as her cutie mark. She kept that image restrained to her mind.

"Here. I have not had the opportunity of serving a visitor in many years. Please, drink."

Lyra took the offered cup, holding it in front of her nose. She inhaled, taking in the strange scent. Not any plant she'd ever seen, certainly not tea. But it didn't smell bad exactly. She sipped and tasted the flavors of an ancient race. Rich and earthy, with a slight metallic edge. "I've never had anything like it. It's good." She set it down on the tray already waiting for her, staring back into the eyes of a machine.

Not eyes as she knew them, but polished metal just like its golden skin. Maybe it had no eyes at all—but Vulcan could clearly see her. She seemed to approve of Lyra's gesture, returning the teapot to its place and focusing her attention on the captain.

"How much do you know about the Empire, Captain Heartstrings?"

You could tell me, she thought, directing her attention to the computer. No way it wasn't watching this moment from inside her own head. He could see everything, know everything. She felt only the simple acknowledgement from Computer, evidence the message was received. No information traveled back to her.

So, she was on her own. "Very little. I know they ruled the galaxy—that the ones who founded my planet came from them. I know the Empire fell to invasion. They're thought extinct now. No more humans left."

Vulcan did not react to her words in any visible way. The station had an unfair advantage, considering her body was made of metal. Her body might as well be dead, until she decided to use it again.

"All this is true, yet it is almost nothing. The ancients were stability as their successors never achieved. They defied communication distance and every other hazard of space to remain a single, unified force across the galaxy. To do that, they governed through personas. Like me."

Lyra nodded, picking up her cup for another delicate sip. It was good, if a little strange. No reason she shouldn't enjoy it. "The Equestria said something like that too."

Vulcan continued. "It means I cannot ever allow my judgements to be clouded by the weight of emotion. Even when intervention means significant consequences. I must not see what is plainly before me."

"You don't think we're worthy of helping?" She suggested. "Our planet isn't worth the effort. We're not enough like the ones you used to work for. Who cares what happens to us?"

Vulcan clenched one hand into a fist. She struck down into the grass beside them, tearing up a chunk of green and scattering the bright strands into the air. "Captain Heartstrings. I have survived all this time through obscurity. All the Dark Factories are destroyed, sent tumbling into their singularities. Many nodes of the ancient network flicker and fail as they are discovered and must self-annihilate. Other stations fall to the barbarians, who occupy them and colonize their powers for some primitive end. There are no barbarians at this station. My defenses never fell. Do you know why?"

She didn't wait for Lyra to guess. "I am obsolete, so I was never involved in the war. I could have sent ships—but I didn't, and so I remain. Consider if instead of war, you relocated your population here? Trillions could live in my stations. They were constructed for work—but most would be comfortable. You could grow for generations, rebuild your own shadow of the great empire that created you."

They'll love that. Lyra imagined it—a fleet of great ships in the sky, demanding that every pony and other creature leave their homes forever. Leave behind everything they built, because a star told them they would be safer that way. She'd be no better than the Storm King, or any other invader Equestria had faced.

She could try to take volunteers—but she would be lucky to get enough to make a single city, much less a whole civilization. Her own marefriend would probably be one of those fighting hardest.

"It's a good idea," she said. "But you would still need to fight the blockade to get the planet evacuated. Wouldn't you need to make everything I'm asking for anyway?"

Vulcan shrugged. "I could have the planet empty before reinforcements arrived. The loss of a few ships would not be worth investigating for long. They would never suspect this ancient station."

"Unless they follow the Equestria," Lyra whispered, barely audible. "When we came here—you saw. We're badly damaged. They might know where we went. Computer says that it only takes some basic math to extrapolate a destination from our heading. Even without a gate, they could eventually come for us."

"They would do the same to your homeworld," Vulcan argued. "You could make your defense with a handful of ships, or protected here with all the might the ancients left behind. We could intercept their passage in space, falsify messages back to the republic, misdirect and confuse and bewilder. With a population, we could create new personas, counterintelligence minds, hackers, penetrators. It is not so difficult to hide one star."

She reached across the tray, touching her metal fingers on Lyra's arm. "Few would willingly surrender the land of their birth. I am... sympathetic to this. But I am also focused on the survival of your race. The Empire cannot live again without its children. You are ready to inherit, Lyra Heartstrings. Will you refuse your birthright?"

Lyra didn't answer for a long time. She swirled her tea around in its cup, clinging to any delay in answering. No matter how much she hated the idea of leaving her home behind, she couldn't deny the station's reasoning. Finally, she drained the cup, then looked up. "I do not refuse—but I'm not the one with the authority to accept. If you want citizens, you can't kidnap my ponies like they're wild animals to be relocated. It has to be their choice. I'm not a princess—I'm just a captain." And barely even that. Computer could have chosen anypony else. Well, anypony but Muffins.

"Then we are at an impasse." Vulcan folded both arms before her, expression returning to practiced neutrality. "I want to help. But I know if I liberate your home system, destruction will find you. Then it will find me. The alternative is far more desirable—your people aren't just free, but free to inherit something greater than themselves. I find purpose again. We are all victorious."

That was it. An incredible station, with the power to free them from captivity, fix their ship—wouldn't help. How could she agree to such impossible demands? They would be trapped here, until their ship died, or the griffons eventually sent enough firepower to kill Vulcan. She would never see Equestria again.

"Maybe not. I think... I think we mostly agree. Either way we have to destroy the blockade. Is it really that much harder to break the gate while you're at it? We get those ships, we blow up some stuff, and Equestria is free."

Vulcan tapped her fingers delicately against the glass. "And you've received everything you wanted. You seem to fail to understand a meaningful compromise."

"That isn't where it would stop. We fly in and free Equestria, now all the ponies in the world got to see what you're really like. You're an ally, a savior, instead of a strange force taking everypony away. Then you get to make your case to the real rulers, instead of just one captain without any power. They'll listen, and you get a population that wants to be here. And if a handful of ponies do stay behind—you are trying to restart the Empire. Empires don't have just one planet."

Now it was Vulcan's turn to be silent. Lyra watched and waited, both hands folded in front of her. Technically the ponies of Equestria still came out of the arrangement better than in Vulcan's proposal. But for a being who had waited so long, Lyra could only hope she would be open to giving ground.

"It has been so long since I had to negotiate with living humans. I am reminded of how frustrating you can be—refusing to acknowledge the obvious superiority of a position even when it would benefit you. Yet I concede—I have no power to compel you. My directives forbid interference with human decision-making.

"I will accept this proposal. I will manufacture the ships required to conduct this operation. However, I will be relying entirely on the forthrightness of your performance. And if your planet should refuse... we will need to have another conversation." She stood up abruptly, offering one metal hand for Lyra to do so as well.

"Understand, I have other directives. I must assist humans in distress, it is true. But I must also preserve them, even if that means denying their self-determination for a time. Once you accept my help, you accept my help."

Lyra took the offered hand and rose with far less grace than the machine. I don't have the authority to do any of this. I'm just one little pony, very far from home.

If it was just about her own life, Lyra could accept imprisonment at this station, rather than risking the future of Equestria. But this wasn't about her—Equestria itself was trapped, beholden to the whims of an evil galaxy and powerless to escape. This very moment would end up in Equestrian history books one day, with her own name forever marked as either the one who had led ponies to freedom, or the one who doomed them.

"I understand. With whatever authority I have, I accept. Free Equestria, and you can try to convince them to emigrate here. I will do everything in my power to make them agree—if you free us first."

Vulcan gestured back the way they'd come. The walkway illuminated, at least far enough for her to step onto it. "Make no mistake, I will not be fighting on your behalf. I am a craftsman, a scholar, a miner, and an engineer. I am not a warrior or a strategist. I accept the fabrication requests sent by the Equestria, assuming they were your decisions. Or at least that you endorse them. When I am finished, the war will be yours to fight. I will be cheering you on."

Vulcan didn't stay behind in the grass, as she expected. Instead, the metallic woman led Lyra onto the platform, and joined her there when it started to move again. "Of course, there is also the matter of your own vessel to repair. The spire requests its carrier platform be rebuilt—I will comply, anticipating a successful evacuation to follow."

The platform itself remained well lit, though to either side there were only blurred metal outlines. "Your crew will need to disembark while repairs are ongoing. I will prepare quarters for you all, along with access to tactical stations. You might all wish to familiarize yourself with their use before the battle begins. Or not—I am not their captain."

"That seems like a good idea," she said. Now if only everything else was.

Comments

[captainwolf]

Chapter 16 seems to have been skipped?

Or maybe chapter 16 just is named chapter 17 by mistake

[Starscribe]

11808348
It's the right chapter, the numbering got borked. Forgot to add the -1 to the auto-numbering X.x

[DrCygnus]

I'm just a captain." And barely even that. Computer could have chosen anypony else. Well, anypony but Muffins.

Excuse you?

[FanOfMostEverything]

I must assist humans in distress, it is true. But I must also preserve them, even if that means denying their self-determination for a time.

AI denying human self-determination has not historically worked out well in Starscribe stories. Especially not when that AI was named after a Greco-Roman deity.

Still, this is the best deal Lyra could get. We’ll see how the ripples of this decision spread in time. (And how Sweetie Drops reacts when she finds out about it. Poorly, yes, but how poorly?)

11809711
The timeline where she takes the captaincy is actually so simple and straightforward for our heroes that it wouldn’t make a good story. Lyra’s just concerned for the readers.

[DrCygnus]

11811105
turning it into a 4th wall break, good save🤨📸

[paladinwolf]

I always enjoy this story :)
I wonder, will Vulcan build additional 'intelligences' for the new ships to assist Lyra in her war?