The Ship of State

by marciko322

24. Deeper Waters IV - Secondary Considerations

I’d never really paid it much mind until now, but this place really was shaping up into a decent little town. A far cry from the solitary cabin in the woods the Free State began as, and definitely far past the half-finished carcasses of high-density residential flats and warehouses and whatever else was required of a functional settlement, the recently-christened Bastion now looked much more like a typical rural backwater village, of the sort you might have found dotted around in any number of places on Equestria – or, indeed, back on Earth. Certainly a far cry from pedigrees such as Manehattan, or Canterlot, and certainly not an image one would conjure at the concept of a nation’s capital… but there would be time for that yet.

November was definitely here in force by this point; the temperature was noticeably less comfortable than even a week ago. Many ponies now donned scarves and hats to ward off the growing chill in the air, which I had found a little off at first – what with their fur, and all. It was mainly the earth ponies among the population, I’d noticed; pegasi, and particularly unicorns, didn’t seem to mind the cool as much, though some did still make the effort. I, myself, did not – I was much more a fan of the cold than the heat, still comfortable in just a shirt and sweatpants, the chill serving mostly to energise me.

Anyway. I was ambling rather more slowly towards my destination than usual today, content to plod along and take in the sights of my surroundings. It was still early on in the day, with a handful of ponies still rushing to where they needed to be for the day throwing me simple glances or quick, jaunty waves of a hoof that I returned only because I might as well have. The path under my feet, already shaping up to be the main through-fare of the town, was already starting to look well-trod, with only the occasional tuft of grass peeking out above the increasingly-packed soil. There were a few more roads dotted around Bastion that were starting to look like that, mostly the ones to the commie-blocks and the sole food distribution building.

I ducked out of the through-fare and onto a decidedly less-worn path, the grass here still somewhat healthy and tall but still visibly worn down. Made a lot of sense, too, since this was what led to what was now Bastion’s first schoolhouse – an unofficial one, yes, but hopefully not for long.

This was perhaps a little too overdue a meeting, seeing exactly what my residents had done to begin educating the youth. Lyra had told me one Sunny Hooves had set something up for the town – and thus, for now, the whole Free State – which, with any luck, I could incorporate into an arm of the administration straight away, plug-n-play style. It wasn’t likely to be anything very comprehensive, or sophisticated, of course; I certainly didn’t expect to see any smartboards and textbooks lying around as my own education provided me. In any case, I was in no position to pass judgment, unless of course there was something truly egregious happening.

It certainly did not look like a typical schoolhouse, I mused as I approached the building in question. At first glance, were it not for the hastily-constructed seven-foot high fencing surrounding it, I would have assumed it was nothing more than one of Bastion’s many miscellaneous warehouses. Then again, right now our endeavours could be called nothing if not slipshod; watching foals running around behind a fenced-off building that had more appearances in common with a wooden aircraft hangar than a public school certainly fit that bill.

The equally-shoddy gate was closed and barred, but fortunately my natural stature let my presence be known to the pony in charge before too long – a neon-green earth pony with an electric-blue mane that I found to be rather eye-watering, who I presumed to be Sunny Hooves; fortunately, much of the effect was mitigated by a little scarf that gave my eyes something else to focus on. I’d have bet very good money on them being some sort of art teacher. The pony in question looked over at me in consternation, though swiftly recognised me and trotted over at once, leaving the foals behind them to continue what I could only assume was their recess.

“Hello?” the pony called out as they neared, the voice and muzzle cluing me in to the mare’s gender.

I raised my hand in a casual greeting. “Good morning, madam. I assume you are Sunny Hooves?”

“That’s me,” she confirmed with a nod. “And you must be First Minister Inns.”

“Quite right,” I said. “Do you have a few minutes to spare? I’m afraid this isn’t quite a social visit.”

“Oh goodness,” said Sunny, concerned, as she reached up to unlatch the bolt on the gate. “I hope I haven’t caused you any trouble, sir, I only figured somepony ought to be teaching the little ones-”

“No, no, there’s nothing wrong, Miss Hooves,” I placated quickly. The gate swinging away and open prompted me to cross the threshold into school grounds with a grateful nod. “If anything, I ought to thank you for saving me the effort of setting something up. Although that is much of the reason I’m here today.”

“Right, I see.” Sunny gestured at me with a hoof to follow, which I did at an appropriately sedate pace. “Well, this school is rather a recent development, First Minister, as you… might guess.” Fortunately, I was already a savvy enough politician to suppress a wince at that. “I am technically a formally qualified educator, though I imagine you won’t care much for Equestrian credentials?”

“Nonsense,” I dismissed. “We’re all Equestrians here, after all. Or rather we used to be. I don’t really care where you learned as long as you did learn. And besides, I haven’t set up an education secretariat yet – why do you think I’m here?”

“…First Minister?” Sunny turned my way at that, though she didn’t stop walking, the beginning notes of alarm having snuck into her body language already. I raised my hands placatingly to try to forestall any escalation.

“Aheh… excuse me, Miss Hooves, perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself here.” We stopped just before the entrance of the ‘schoolhouse,’ Sunny turning around fully to face me head-on, tilting her head quizzically and perking her ears. “I won’t pressure you into anything, I can assure you. And besides, I am sure a secretariat would conflict horribly with an active educator position. But I digress.”

My next proposition only got as far as the inhale, before a shrill screech rang out that made Sunny’s entire head whip around as if she’d been clocked one on the snout – before I could react, she was galloping away towards a congregation of little ponies, no doubt making some trouble. A knowing smile made its way onto me as I leaned against the wall, crossing both my arms and my feet in a pose somewhat reminiscent of a high-school delinquent.

Ah, the joys of youth. I knew damn well education was most likely the single most important long-term policy I was going to have to implement, considering the Free State’s unique circumstances. Children are the future, as the platitude goes, and we had an awful lot of future ahead of us. Better to get it right sooner rather than later, and start raising them right bright and early.

…So long as I kept in mind my own biases on the matter, of course. Discounting my entirely different species, viewpoint, and native plane of reality, the fact was that my own education was… what could charitably be called comprehensive. I knew mathematics to a higher standard than many (perhaps most) Equestrians, likewise with language and the sciences – but I had never once in my life filled out a tax form, or had to budget for groceries, or hammer out a contract. My abortive years in university did at least give me the knowledge of what bureaucratic documents were supposed to look like, but that, of course, translated to exactly zero practical experience. And things like civic responsibility? Jury duty, political understanding, even being taught things like critical thinking, or how to make up one’s own mind amid many different and opposing viewpoints and arguments? Forget it.

Whose idea was it to make me First Minister, again…?

And yes, humans and ponies did have some pretty major fundamental differences that I needed to keep in mind. Their cutie marks, for one thing – I might have been fine with five nine-to-three days a week, but unless that came with complementary 'how to find your destiny in life 101' courses, ponyfolk were going to disapprove something fierce. Herbivores, quadrupeds, herd creatures… et cetera, et cetera. Needless to say, I was probably a poor fit for Interim Secretary for Education.

I rolled my eyes to myself. Old reliable Plan B for dealing with things like that – punt them off to Construct. That mare was going to get a bigger paycheck than I was, if things kept going the way they were. Pony rules for ponies – or rather, my own ideas for a decent curriculum, filtered through a pony perspective. Preferably by someone with experience in the field. Like I should have been running things right from the start, I suppose.

Anyway. Sunny was finally wrapping things up on the schoolyard, apparently having just come out of a scolding of some rascal or another. If it weren’t for the species, and the rather more rustic aesthetic of the surroundings, I could well have imagined myself back at my old primary school. The troublemaker appropriately chastened, Sunny made her way back over to me, an apologetic expression on her face.

“Sorry about that, First Minister,” she called out as she neared. “The older colts and fillies like to make trouble every now and then.”

“I can imagine,” I chuckled. “I’ve fooled around myself plenty of times back when I was a younger chap.” I glanced back at the kids playing around behind her. The larger group of earlier had dissolved into a few small chunks of three and four each, but were already in the process of gravitating together into one again. A flash of brown gave me pause, and I honed in on the sight – the green/yellow on top of it confirmed my suspicion and made me smile. It looked like my daughter was having fun. “I can barely find the time to wrangle two of my own, and you’ve got every foal in the Free State.”

“It can be a lot of work,” Sunny agreed, looking over herself, before snapping back onto me quickly, eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, your own? You mean…”

“Yeah,” I admitted, scratching an itch on my head that definitely did not look sheepish, at all. “Two foals of my own. Who’d have thought, eh? But that isn’t what I’m here for. There’ll be time for that yet, believe me.” I cleared my throat, and adopted a more formal posture. Sunny Hooves followed suit, visibly calming herself down and nodding pensively. “An education secretariat is rather high on my to-do list at present, but I do have priorities both urgent and important besides this. I would be very relieved to hear that I can incorporate your own work into my administration with as little fuss as possible.”

“Of course, First Minister!” Sunny nodded vigorously. “I’d be more than willing to follow your lead in any case. It’s… been strange, teaching without an official curriculum.” An awkward chuckle followed, as the mare shot me an almost guilty look.

“I’m afraid teacher’s discretion might have to remain for some time,” I said. “If you’re not willing to take the secretariat yourself, or you simply don’t have a suitable replacement; I really don’t want to appoint a pony without experience to that particular position. Better they have that background, to my mind, than not, right?”

“…Me?” For the second time, Sunny appeared to be taken by surprise, apparently having forgotten my earlier remark on the same subject. She glanced back at the foals on the field, her ears folding back in a gesture I wasn’t quite sure how to interpret. “In your… cabinet?”

“Ideally, yes,” I said, trying my best to not make it sound like a confession. “You do have the background, and… at the very least some experience in the field, as it were. You’d certainly do a better job of it than I, or my Second Minister, could.” A short pause, courtesy of me letting her interrupt if necessary, went unfilled, leaving me to continue. “We’ve been offering positions to pretty much any, ah, pony that can hold a quill and fill out forms. You’d be in charge of the Free State’s overall education policy; curriculum, locations, personnel, and so on. It won’t be easy work, now or later, but… if you want to change these ponies’ lives – for the better – well. I doubt you could find much better, to be up-front with you.”

Sunny chose not to reply to that, either, still staring out at the little ones. The scratching of the back of my neck, this time, most certainly was sheepish. Probably a bad idea to get between a mare and her foals, huh? For a given value of hers, natch, but… if it worked on Construct…

“Perhaps I can leave you to think about it, yes?” I offered. “I certainly don’t expect an answer right now, let alone today, what with the, ah… rather drastic promotion I am offering you, heh.”

…Okay, this was getting rather uncomfortable now. Perhaps I should have taken the hint and wrapped things up, but I was rather loathe to merely let someone like Sunny Hooves go without a fight. I resisted the urge to clear my throat and gave it one last shot. “If you do decide to take the plunge and lead the shaping of the future of the Free State’s youth, my cabinet will be convening on the first of December, at the office complex near the far end of Mane Street, north-west side. Big four-floor building, can’t miss it. Tell them I sent you.”

Sunny had fortunately, by now, recovered from her catatonia, and wrangled herself to turn and look my way. I couldn’t be sure, guarded as she was, but I reckoned I could spot some small spark of intrigue in her eyes. “…Okay, First Minister. Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

I nodded. “That’s all I can ask of you. Now…” I let my lips curl faintly, and gestured at the foals – who, it seemed, were starting to get a little restless. “I’d better stop taking up your valuable time, Miss Hooves, I’m sure this break of theirs might have dragged on a little too long today.”

“Ah, right, First Minister. Thank you,” she repeated, already starting to shuffle off their way, barely even nodding a goodbye at me. “Until next time- Mystic Eyes! We do not pull other ponies’ manes…”

…Can’t believe I used to be like that, I thought, setting off to my next destination with the beginning wisps of a skip in my steps. Wonder what they’re gonna turn out to be in twenty years’ time…

---

My next port of call was the sawmill.

As First Minister, ever since the harvest just over a month ago, the vast majority of my time had been spent working on political considerations. The absolute top-level stuff, mainly, to put it simply; to a lesser extent more run-of-the-mill affairs as well, such as foreign affairs and domestic product. I was, after all, only one man, with only so many hours in a day, and I was First Minister: that work could only really have been done by me in either case, and there remained lots of it still.

My skeleton cabinet was already bearing fruit in terms of bridging that deficiency at last; I had entrusted the Secretary for Agriculture to oversee the inspection of the Free State’s crop fields and farming complexes in my stead, hopefully more thoroughly than I could myself, freeing my time up for other pursuits – such as the one I was now ensconced in.

The Free State’s primary sector might have been expanding at a good pace now (with any luck), but our secondary was nowhere near the same level, not in size or growth. To my knowledge, at any rate – which was an equally poor state of affairs, one I needed to rectify post-haste. The sawmill was, again to my knowledge, our sole site that could even charitably be called a manufactory of any description, that being turning timber into more usable lumber and processed wood items. Hardly an industrial backbone, but our territory was over ninety percent forest, so…

The sawmill turned out to be more heavily populated than the last time I’d visited. A surprisingly large pile of fallen trees had been stacked behind the building, both sides of the pile visible behind its front profile. Even as I watched, an octet of earth ponies carefully transferred an entire tree, about thirty metres tall and half a metre diameter, into the collection, somewhere near the top. One of them noticed my incredulous stare, and waved at me, which I couldn’t help but return. I had some experience with lugging wood around the place from back home – not at that scale, obviously, but it still wasn’t a duty I envied. Very impressive to see nonetheless, though.

The interior, or what passed for it, was deceptively sparse for how busy it really was. Two halves of a tree even larger than the one I’d just seen moved were being pushed my way through the massive saw; with a heave, the ponies at the other end shoved the wood the rest of the way and through the saw. Both halves, now fully separate, clonked onto the floor on either side of the saw. In the corner – or rather, the entire right side of the building, taking up as much floor space as they dared – a few teams of carpenters were hard at work putting together something or another, I really couldn’t tell from here.

Things certainly were looking good here, I figured. The noise of the mill, and the industriousness of the workers, meant I hadn’t been spotted yet, though if I kept getting in the way here I no doubt would have been booted out post-haste. Indeed, even just showing up here and gawking for thirty seconds told me a few things. Chief among them that our…

Can I even really call it that yet? It’s only the one saw here still… I’d rather not cut down the whole damn White Tail Woods for quick paydays!

…Our soon-to-be lumber mill, with any luck, was churning out processed – useful – goods at… perhaps not in great quantities, but certainly at a rapid pace. These ponies knew what they were doing, which implied that they could teach others what they were doing.

And that meant we could pretty quickly set up new sawmills and carpentries, and train new carpenters.

Not that it would do us any good in the present, of course. Without machine parts, or any access to metal supplies of any sort, we continued to be shit out of luck on actually doing so. Tough to do anything with wooden saws and wooden axes, after all. Our forestry industry had hit a bottleneck…

“Mister Inns!” A familiar southern drawl burst forth from the pony I’d inadvertently stuck my gaze onto; he got up, making sure to put his tools and chunk of wood away safely, and trotted over to me, offering a hoof. “Well darn, if it ain’t been a hot minute since Ah’ve seen ya!”

I chuckled, a little awkwardly, though shaking his hoof with considerable enthusiasm. “Afternoon, Steady. Been meaning to check up on you for a while now, to be honest. Did you move or something? Tough to remember an address when there aren’t any yet, you know.”

Steady Hooves laughed as well, more naturally, ducking to the side to let another pony, a unicorn with a vaguely disapproving aura about her, pass by. I stepped to the side myself, earning a nod from her. “S’pose ya got a lotta work on yer hooves still, eh? Or… those whatchamacallits ya have instead’a hooves.”

“Hands.”

“Yeah, those things.” I snorted. “But anyhow, what brings ya here, Inns? Ya didn’t come here jus’ ta watch us work, didja? Or ta get in th’ way?”

I gestured somewhat vaguely at the pile of what could only be called stuff at his workstation, set somewhat further off from the rest of the woodworkers. “Only partly. I wanted to get a sense of how things are coming along here, about how much you’re making here, any difficulties or problems, that kind of thing. Wouldn’t mind catching up with you, either, Steady.”

“Great,” drawled Steady, trotting back over to his work. I followed along obediently, curious. “Well, far as problems go, we’re all hunky-dory over here. Got plenty’a wood comin’ in ta our saw, an’ got plenty’a wood goin’ out ta yer storehouses.” Steady got busy in his work as he spoke, lifting his personal hunk of wood in one hoof and a little whittling knife in another in a feat of acrobatics that would have been a lot more impressive if he hadn’t placed a stool down to rest his barrel on beforehand.

I watched on, impassive. “So this is your day job now? What are you working on, even?”

“’S a bust,” he said, waving the wood in the air slightly, before taking the knife to it and starting to whittle. “Not sure’a who jus’ yet. Guess Ah’ll find out along th’ way.” I wasn’t too fazed by the sentiment. God knew I got like that a few times, back in the day, artsy type that I once was, briefly. Instead, I nodded along in understanding.

“This what your boss asked you to do?” I asked.

Steady only scoffed. “Boss? Heh! Sure be nice if’n we had a boss ta whip some’a th’ lazyhooves over there back inta shape.” He jerked his head over to the far corner, where I saw two ponies… ah, decidedly uninterested in their vocation. I hurriedly averted my eyes. “Nah, Ah’m doin’ this jus’ ta amuse mahself. Keep mah talent steady, ya know? Heh, get it?”

The stallion promptly lost himself in chuckling to his own joke, to which I could only roll my eyes. “Good one,” I deadpanned. “So a non-negligible part of the Free State’s total industrial output is going to a pet project of yours instead of anything actually useful.”

“Well what else are ya gonna do with it?” he asked, turning his head to give me the stink-eye briefly. “Gonna keep filling yer storehouses with wooden beams an’ see ‘em rot away afore yer own eyes? An’ how many houses ya gonna build here, anyhow?”

I blinked. Somehow, a snap retort didn’t come to me, despite the rather lacklustre point being made. Lumber was objectively more useful, particularly in our present circumstances, than wooden carvings. It certainly wasn’t the case that the wood was being wasted, though, or that we didn’t have enough of it.

“…You’re just gonna keep that thing, then?” I asked instead. “When it’s done? Seems like a bit of a waste, doesn’t it?”

Steady scoffed again. “Ya rather Ah sell it? Ta who? An’ fer what?”

“Equestria?” came the (to me) obvious reply. “And for… money?”

And somehow, that was enough to give him pause, turning over a second time to look at me, completely mystified. “Fer Equestrian bits? What good are they gonna do us here?”

“Aside from the fact I plan to accept bits in the Free State, you mean?” I asked right back. “I’m aware there’s plenty still that’s available in Equestria and not here. Free State currency is essentially just calories at the moment.” I tactfully declined to mention the implication of essentially taxing the agricultural sector of my nation one hundred percent of its production. “Las Pegasus isn’t that far from here.”

“Ya want me ta sell sculptures ta Shallow Shade?” he asked, even more incredulous than before. “Ya serious?” I bit my lip and nodded hesitantly in acceptance of the point. I’d been to Las Pegasus a few times before, mostly to offload my older and crapper hooch – but, of course, I could never enter the city itself, for reasons that should be pretty obvious. Instead I had to content myself with the considerably… less prestigious community sprung up underneath ‘the resort capital of Equestria,’ or perhaps more importantly the less wealthy community.

“No,” I admitted. “Not Shallow Shade. Somewhere it might actually sell. Some rich idiot somewhere would throw gold bullion at you for a stack of wood figurines, I’m sure.”

“Uh-huh,” he drawled. “An’ yer jus’ tellin’ me this outta th’ goodness’a yer own heart, are ya?”

“No,” I admitted again, just as easily. “Believe it or not, but politicians have ulterior motives. I do intend to instate a tax system, just the same as any functioning government. Equestrian cash is, right now, one of my only options to expand the Free State’s industrial base. Besides turning us into a breadbasket by slash-and-burning half our nation into plantations, anyway.”

“Hmh.” That dismissive grunt was, in retrospect, a much more cordial response than I should have expected from a stallion who’d arrived here specifically, in large part, to escape ruinous government overreach into his wallet. I had enough sense in the moment to not push on the subject any further.

“Alright,” I said. “Maybe I ought to find you some time you’re not working, yeah?” An idea suddenly hitting me made me jerk. “Oh, hey, come to think of it, I don’t suppose you could find some time free on the twenty-ninth?”

“Twenty-ninth?” he parroted, his guard lowering at the non-sequiteur.

“Sure. Might as well invite you as well, you and your foals. You know how birthday parties go, right, they get all boring if there’s only adults hanging around.”

“…What are ya talkin’ about, mister Inns?”

I huffed out a breath of amusement. Really, I was only ever bringing it on myself to clarify my own vague as fuck statements – but hey, I hadn’t spoken to Steady for a hot minute, in his own words, and catching up with someone I… wouldn’t mind calling a friend was something I could absolutely take some time to do. I shuffled over to his side and sat down cross-legged, smiling knowingly almost more to myself than him.

“Alright, alright, let me start from the beginning, I guess -”

“Where else?”

“Very funny. So, all the way back when I returned from Canterlot after the Summer Sun Celebration, you remember what I did with that crowd? Well, as I was counting the newcomers…”

---

The next notable event of the week came less than twenty-four hours later, right in the comfort of my own home. I was enjoying (of course) a lovely cup of morning coffee along with Lyra, who was in the middle of an increasingly-dull breakfast of leafy greens. My two foals had already eaten thanks to her own efforts, and had run off quickly on what I could only assume was another attempt to find their destiny and have fun while doing so.

I’d been on the periphery of a small-talk conversation with her, not really paying much attention while I was still waking myself up. Fortunately, Lyra was similarly disconnected, and didn’t take offense to my non-committal grunts and clipped replies, if she even deigned to notice. Quite likely something was on her mind, just as things were on mine, though I assumed hers was about my son’s imminent ninth birthday (and fuck me dead if that wasn’t a phrase I thought I’d ever get to express back on Earth, let alone here in the Free State), and thus wasn’t quite worth bringing up for debate.

Rapping on my front door rather quickly focused both our minds away from whatever portents of doom we might have been considering, as both our heads swivelled over to the source in unison. Lyra tried to choke out something that might have been words of confusion had a chunk of her meal not gotten in the way. She tried again after swallowing the offending vegetable. “Who could that be?” she wondered out loud.

“I dunno,” I muttered, glancing out the window as if that would offer some insight on the query. “I’m certainly not expecting anyone right now… suppose that means it ain’t good news.”

With that realisation tucked away in my head, I sighed bitterly, set my mug down on the counter, and steeled myself to endure yet another set of calamities that most likely Construct was about to hand me on a depleted-uranium platter, as I tried my best to not look like I was stomping my way over to the door.

Lo and behold, Construct was standing right there as I swung the front door open – with a unicorn stallion stood behind and slightly to her right, which I didn’t recognise.

“First Minister,” greeted Construct cordially. “Good morning.”

“I doubt it is, if you’ve come looking for me,” I replied, glancing at the stranger tagging along with her, who returned my gaze with a faint, yet unmistakably disdainful, grimace.

“I’ll be glad to prove you wrong, in that case,” she said. “You asked me to notify you if I ever found a suitable candidate for an open position in your cabinet, is that correct?”

I couldn’t quite remember if I had done or not, but it sounded like a decent enough policy to have at the moment, so I went with it. “Sure did. You stumble across an equine übermensch while I wasn’t looking or something?”

“Something like that.” Construct stepped off to the side, allowing the unicorn to step forth and bow his head, clearly for the sake of politeness than out of actual respect.

“Good morning, First Minister Inns,” he said, standing back up straight and eyeing me coolly. “My name is High Roller. As your Second Minister has explained to me, you are in desperate need of competent subordinates.”

I resisted the urge to shoot Construct a look. “…Yes, that’s correct.”

“I have unfortunately been forced to leave Equestria due to recent events,” he continued evenly. “Along with a small number of my closest allies and supporters. I have reason to believe the backlash of my departure will follow me. If you are able to shield me from it, I will gladly work for you, First Minister Inns.”

My lips pulled into a thin line. At least this High Roller didn’t waste time dancing around the issue. I slowly closed my front door behind me. “What sort of backlash are we talking about here?”

High Roller grimaced. “I… will admit that I may perhaps have committed an indiscretion of overreach. One of my long-time opponents used the opportunity to attempt to disgrace me as totally as was possible. Their mostly baseless allegations… succeeded in doing so, to a rather frightening extent. I had no choice but to flee for my life.”

“For your life?” I parroted. “Why would someone want a random pony dead for making a mistake?”

That seemed to incense the good stallion, very briefly, before apparently recalling something that instead drove him to disappointment. “Ah, yes, forgive me. Perhaps you might know me better as Lord High Roller. That is, the former Lord High Roller, since I daresay my title means less than nothing in Equestria now.”

My interest was caught at once. I inhaled audibly. “Lord High Roller… I’m afraid that doesn’t ring a bell, but I can believe your being driven to flee to the Free State at the hooves of your peers.” I let an expression of disdain cross my face. It was hardly a secret that I held the idea of aristocracy in contempt, after all. “I imagine you’re running from Heartstrings’ lot, too?”

The unicorn hesitated, before slowly nodding. “…Most likely, yes. I imagine I have caused the House of Lords some embarrassment by my actions. That is plenty to earn his ire.”

I nodded in sympathy. “Well, with a story like yours, I’d be remiss to turn you away. Not to mention a bloody hypocrite. What, exactly, can you do for the Free State?”

“I’ve run the treasury department of the Las Pegasus city council for over a decade, First Minister, and I was good at it.” The tone he used gave the impression that he’d just massively understated the notion. “Your Second Minister told me you are looking for a minister of the treasury? Without meaning to boast, a position like that would be foal’s play for a stallion of my experience.”

I smiled faintly. For all my faults, I could recognise a sales pitch when I heard one, but I was in the exact precise position to take the bait, hook, line and sinker. “I’m sure it would be,” I replied. “Very well. Congratulations on your new post, Minister High Roller.” I reached out with a hand, and shook his hoof. A brief smile of satisfaction leapt up on him before he smothered it down to an impassive stare. “I’ll be convening my cabinet on the first of December, at our…” I looked to Construct helplessly, who only shrugged. “Ah, at our hall of government, let’s call it for now. Big four-floor building at the far end of Mane Street, I’m sure someone here can show you the way.”

“Thank you, First Minister,” he said, nodding politely. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise,” I returned, watching as High Roller about-faced and strode off, his horn lighting up and a scroll and quill floating over from… God only knew where he’d stuffed that on him. I turned my attention back to Construct, my lips pursing. “So, Second Minister. Thoughts?”

“Technically, Minister High Roller was in charge of Shallow Shade’s treasury department,” she said immediately. “Though that doesn’t diminish his experience much, a decade and some leading a financial department of a considerably-sized town is still far more than anypony else in the Free State has.”

“…I was more concerned about his connections to Equestrian nobility,” I said quietly. “Lord High Roller being so high up in my cabinet… even if his title is worthless now, ponies aren’t going to be happy with the aristos creeping into the Free State already.”

“He has made it clear he is more than willing to renounce his title publicly, in case his fugitive status is not enough to convince the population,” offered Construct.

I pursed my lips. “Mmm. That… probably won’t be necessary, actually,” I soon relented. “His lordship is almost certainly already forfeit, if not by his… indiscretions -” I rolled my eyes “- then by him serving in the government of a foreign nation. Assuming that, in itself, isn’t a criminal offense.”

“As you say, First Minister,” said Construct.

“Keep an eye on him in any case,” I said, with a dismissive wave of my arm. “Aristos, you know how it is.”

Construct actually cracked a smirk at that. “Yes, First Minister. Is there anything else?”

Now that she mentioned it… “Actually, yes. Do you know who’s in charge of operations at the sawmill? I spoke with Steady there yesterday, and I got the impression that… nopony is.”

“I…” She frowned, tipping her head downwards, falling uncharacteristically silent. “I… don’t know, First Minister. I asked Shuffle to supervise things there, but my old workers will be packing up and returning to Equestria very soon, and I put her in charge of them when you gave me my position.”

I put the pieces together myself. “And she neglected to hand off her oversight to anyone else, or to mention her conflicting duties to you. Right.”

“Sorry, First Minister,” she said, but anything else she was about to say I forestalled with a raised hand.

“Don’t worry, Second Minister, it’s not your fault. Can you take over that work? At least until you find someone better to do it, at least.”

“Of course, First Minister,” she nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Right.” I fell silent for a moment, trying to wrack my brain for anything else I needed her to know – nothing came to mind, so I ended up shrugging helplessly. “Thanks, Construct. If that’s everything, you’re free to go.”

Construct nodded silently, about-facing in almost exactly the same way as High Roller did, though she spread her wings and took to the skies, blowing cold wind in my face and ruffling my hair, which I had to smooth back down with a grumble.

Hmph. Another bust, I think. I couldn’t shake the feeling I was missing something. I probably needed to focus more on what was going on with our industry, and I probably needed to vet my brand spanking new Minister of the Treasury a little more thoroughly than with just an ‘okay, have fun’ and a smack on the bum, or rather flank, but… nothing was coming to me except the ever-present pressure to continue running the country. I really did not want to ignore that, just in case there was some nasty disaster coming up that my new former noble subordinate was about to cause, or allow to happen, or whatever.

I shook my head. Hypotheticals weren’t going to get me anywhere. Better to simply keep it in mind and find out if there was anything wrong on the sly, and sort it out then. I was already going to have a fun time justifying this to my people, no need to fling more shit into a clogged toilet. I’d asked Construct to check on him, that was probably going to be more than enough, going by her ongoing competence.

Anyway, I’m wasting time. Daylight was still burning as I stood and pondered things in front of my house, doing bugger-all. I shook my head forcefully – goddamn it, my coffee’s gonna be stone cold by now, fuck – and spun around to finish my morning routine, hoping and praying it would help settle and focus my mind on the job.

Comments

[Phylonemios]

Thanks for the chapter ! I almost forgot about it but it's nice to see it's still active !

[EvilTreerat]

Well, Innis is already one up on all known sapient species. Putting a trained educator in charge of education.

He might be surprised about High Roller. When FDR created the Securities and Exchange commision (back when it had serious teeth) he tapped Joesph Kennedy to run it. Specifically because, and his cabinent threw a fit over this, as one of the most-sucessful shady traders on Wall Street Joesph knew all the tricks the crooks used and how to counter them most effectively. In this case its a sneaky ex-administrator that likely knows who plays fair from the start, who can be dealt with if you can blackmail them, and who needs to be bucked back over the border post haste. Oh and they tend to know a lot about other ponies dirty laundry which is always useful in government.

Well done.

[hmaf43]

Let's sell those nobles overpriced sculptures!

[StarzGecko]

Two long chapters read… interesting development so far. I wonder how the cows, sheep, and other “livestock” people will react to hearing about what has been said last chapter. I’m surprise they didn’t make their own businesses to sell to ponies since it would make sense for like Cows 🐄 to run milk, ice cream, or cheese businesses.

I have a feeling the… nobles without Celestia word might try to do something… fishy

[Foxer]

I'm caught up!
Wait a minute I can't be caught up...
*checks chapter count*
I'm caught up...