Foundation's Dawn

by Spatial Observer

The Premonition—Chapter 5

5

===

Now separated from the group, Nova, Crescent and Starswirl were escorted into a polished, top-of-the-line shuttle, which rose from the outer courtroom landing pad to the Palace Grounds. During the commute, papers and digital receipts provided by the Empresses were passed between them. By leaving their signatures, they were swearing an oath of secrecy that could lead to dire consequences if broken.

Once they arrived at the Palace Grounds, the trio was immediately ushered in, stopping them from getting a good look of the exterior. They went through a maze of corridors, staircases and lifts—the amount of guards walking with them slowly thinning out—to an expansive, circular room. Clear water ran between otherworldly, colorful flowers along the outer tier. The ceiling was painted with a mural of circling stars in the spiral galaxy. It was both ancient and elaborate, details carved and sliced into the shining metal, which rusted along the edges. A fourth of the room’s circumference was a reinforced glass window, overlooking the fabled landscape that was Palace Grounds, and the city over by the horizon.

Then, taking her eyes away, Nova peered down to the pedestal centered in the private chamber. Seated upon it were two tall figures. Both alicorns were twice Nova’s height, forcing her to look up. Their eternal beauty—given off by their adorned gowns and every other feature they possessed—was a sight that she, and only a hoof-full of other equines, were indulging in at the moment. Nova’s mouth went partially agape, while Crescent’s eyes went wide.

Starswirl only blinked tiredly, keeping the same stern expression he wore during the trial.

“Good afternoon,” said Empress Celestia. Her white coat shined brilliantly, even through the darkness. “Starswirl Stabledon, Nova Sparkle, and Crescent Moon.”

At the mention of her name, Nova’s eyes opened up to the size of gemstones.

There was a scoffing sound that came from Empress Luna, and she shot a glare in their direction. “Go now, guards!” she said harshly.

The guards stepped back, surprised. “But, your highnesses—”

“Do not question us!” she snapped. “The members of Global Security had their chance in the courtroom, and they failed in their main task: the security of the Canterlot populace. Were it not for our intervention, the situation would have spiraled out of control, like it has before.”

Celestia rose from her seat. “For Global Security’s failure, we declare that Stabledon’s supposed treason is now our case,” she said. “It is stated in the Canterlotian Code of Courts that when a court session breaks down, a higher authority may take control.” Seeing the guards hesitate, she added, “Tell the Global Security officials not to worry; based on our prior knowledge and what we gained from the trial itself, we will make a suitable choice for Starswirl Stabledon and his group. Relay our intentions to your superiors.”

The guards stood firmly—almost defiantly—in place, but they backed away after seeing the Empresses’ horns glow faintly. The moment the door softly shut, a brighter glow emanated from Empress Luna’s horn.

“Is this part of your decision, your highness?” asked Nova, holding her right foreleg to stop it from trembling.

The answer Nova received was a powerful surge of magic that rippled out to the surrounding area. Nova yelped, but once the surge passed, she fell silent. The whole room went dark, the only light source being the natural light that filtered through the windows. The clamp of the metal cone that wrapped Nova's horn suddenly loosened, and she let it fall to the ground along with Crescent’s.

“No, it is not,” said Luna calmly.

“It serves to disable all surveillance within the room—arcane or electric,” continued Empress Celestia. “We would rather not be eavesdropped upon by our subjects, especially when we have instructed them that this is no longer their affair.”

“Now that that is out of the way,” began Luna, smiling, “would you all sit down? Perhaps have a drink? It is already past high noon, and you all must be hungry.” She gestured to a small banquet of food and drinks located on a nearby table. Glancing between Crescent and Nova’s bewildered faces, Luna frowned. “Please, I did not mean to frighten you with my outburst. It was not directed towards either of you, nor to Mr. Stabledon. As you can tell, Celestia and I must sometimes be aggressive to relay our point to our subjects.”

Again, Nova glimpsed at Stabledon, who refused to any show any amazement. It was as if he had learned to fall asleep with his eyes open. But he moved, creaking into the cushioned seat, signalling Nova and Crescent to sit beside him.

The Empresses sat on the opposite side of the table, watching as Nova and Crescent quietly and uneasily levitated utensils.

But before either of them could begin eating, Celestia said, “It has been far too long, Starswirl."

Starswirl stopped sipping his drink, and he sat back. “A decade and a half by my memory, Empress. You have aged beautifully, as always.”

Celestia laughed quietly. “And you still retain your charm. I wish I could say the same for the equines who grow old within these Palace Grounds, but they have lost themselves to the political process.”

Empress Luna nodded, but mainly looked upon Starswirl. “It is just another reason why it is very good to see you.”

“And you, too, Luna,” he replied eloquently, smiling frailly.

Neither the Empresses nor Stabledon seemed to realize that Nova and Crescent had stopped eating, their levitated utensils floating in the air.

“Mr. Stabledon,” interrupted Crescent, “you… you personally know the Empresses?” Celestia looked to him, and Crescent quickly averted his eyes by staring at his plate.

Turning back to Starswirl, Celestia asked, “Would you like them to know, Starswirl?”

Starswirl sipped his drink again. “I am confident they will not tell a soul.”

Luna took a gulp of whatever liquid was in her goblet, then she turned to Crescent Moon. She said, “Yes, we know each other well, young ones."

The magic enveloping Nova’s fork had fluctuated, causing the utensil to fall against the table. Nova’s ears turned red, but neither of the Empresses looked over to her.

Celestia glanced at Luna. “We know of Starswirl’s work pertaining to psychohistory. The past two decades have not been kind to our relationship; political affairs have drawn our attention elsewhere, and our subjects’ interest in him has prevented us from meeting together.”

“So, did you three plan this?” asked Crescent, looking to Starswirl, who briefly shook his head.

“No, I wished to speak to the Empresses again,” he said, “and assumed they wanted to speak to me in turn. That is what drove me to ‘grandstand’ before things broke down, furthering the tension.”

“And he was right in that assumption,” said Luna. “We purposely assigned that particular unicorn to be the prosecutor, suspecting that Starswirl could face him and more easily throw down his crowd-pleasing arguments. It would create much unease, generating a situation where we would step in. And even if Starswirl had failed, the riot would have begun from other planned methods. With the situation boiling over, we had the right to legally take authority over the trial away from Global Security, and put it into our hooves.”

Nova’s jaw fell to the table, and glancing over to Crescent, she practically saw the same thing.

“Your majesties,” began Crescent after closing his mouth with his free hoof, “if you do not mind me asking, were you both his... benefactors? I always thought Starswirl was receiving financial help from some equine who was funding him behind the project members’ backs.”

Luna said, “We made contributions to him, though not behind your backs, so to speak.” She shrugged casually. “We supplied him with technology ahead of its time years ago—some pieces are still more advanced than technology today. Around the time he created the project, we were cut off by striving politicians. So, technically, the contributions were not made without you knowing. But the original donations were necessary for psychohistory to be crafted as quickly as possible.”

“Yet if you believed in psychohistory, that means...” Nova fell silent.

“Yes, young one,” said Celestia. “Although it may pain you to hear this, we will say the truth. We also believe that our Empire is falling. We have known for a long time now, though there is little we can do to stop it.”

Nova’s resting hoof began shaking. “But you are the goddesses of the galaxy—the immortal beings, the most powerful spell-casters in history.” She rose from her seat. “There’s no way you can’t prevent the Empire from toppling! Your knowledge is endless, and—”

“Those are old tales, Nova Sparkle,” interrupted Celestia, wearing a calm expression. “Some tales have been warped uncontrollably, while others are widely spread to ensure obedience. We will tell you of our own volition that our knowledge is not endless, and that we can only clearly remember a fraction of the Empire’s lifetime. Like any equine, we forget much, too. Even our magical prowess will only take us so far. Not all the magic in the galaxy can help to quell the problems afflicting thousands of worlds and uncounted billions of equines." Celestia gazed down towards her empty plate of food. "We have tried time and again, but two beings alone, no matter how intelligent, cannot guide millions of worlds and cement every growing crack.”

Staring at the solemn face of Celestia, Nova stopped trembling and slowly sank back into her seat.

“And because we cannot hope to command Equestria in its entirety,” Luna continued, looking away from Celestia, “we sought better solutions. The most promising one we found in a Helicoltian pony decades ago.” Luna glanced over to Starswirl. “He had proposed a theory which piqued our interest. Psychohistory, even in its earliest stages, sounded like just what we needed.”

“Yet your original problem is unsolvable,” muttered Starswirl. “As I have said countless times: the Empire will fall no matter what. The trends of behavior and society cannot be altered; those will remain constant, as stated in psychohistory’s First Axiom. The Empire can be rebuilt into something better, as long as my project is kept on task.”

“And what you said in the courtroom is the truth?” said Luna.

“It is, your majesty. Once knowledge of magic is restored to the periphery, magi-tech will advance along with the Empire. Slowing the technological decay—perhaps even stopping it—is a crucial step in ensuring the preservation of galactic society after the fall.”

“But can we not know more than that?” asked Celestia, looking at Starswirl softly. “Can we know exactly when our Empire will fall? We want to be better prepared... we wish to save as much as we can... we want to—”

“No!” he interrupted fiercely. The Empresses fell silent, Celestia retracting her hoof defensively while Luna held her breath. “I have revealed too much already,” Starswirl huffed. “You will endanger the future—the success of my project—if you knew events ahead of time. It would lead you to purposely create deviations. Such foresight affects results, creating chaos where there shouldn’t be any. That is why I formed the Second Axiom, which states that no other must be aware of the predicted future events. I had warned you of that years ago.”

“Yes, I recall,” muttered Celestia. Her head sank a bit lower, and her expression flickered. “I understand your axiom, but—” She paused as Starswirl’s eyes narrowed, and she straightened her posture. “Never mind. I will not say more on the subject. Instead, let us move onto a new one: our verdict.”

Eyes opening wide, Nova asked, “S-Starswirl won’t be imprisoned, right? You’ve known each other for so long, and you went through all the trouble to put the decision into your hooves. Friends don’t just turn against other friends.”

Empress Celestia shook her head. “You are right and wrong in different respects. We are not turning against Starswirl, but we are placing him into a different type of prison. We guarantee you both that it is for his own protection, and the protection of his ideas and his work.

Turning to Starswirl, Celestia said, “You have angered many equines on this day. You had the audacity to claim that the reality of most Canterlotians is a facade. The general population will scrutinize their lives, and find hidden truths that others have been trying to keep away from the public eye. You have also made enemies within Canterlot’s system of courts and commissions, becoming a target for future endeavors. Corruption runs in places where Luna and I cannot extract without bringing down our own government—an impossible and impractical solution, I might add. Needless to say, you and the participants will find life much more difficult if your project remains based on Canterlot.”

“Do you suggest we move to a different world?” asked Crescent.

“Moving to another inhabited planet is not a solution either,” continued Luna. “You cannot remain close to Canterlot, or else officials will still see you as a threat.”

“Another—” Crescent stopped, his eyes shooting open.

Empress Celestia nodded. “Luna and I have discussed this greatly, and our solution is final. We will send you, and the members of your project—including the hundred thousand who have been deemed ‘connected’ to you by the officialdom—to an uninhabited world far from Canterlot.”

“H-how far?” stammered Nova.

“As far as one can go from the center of the galaxy without entering Void Space itself: the edge of the galaxy, on a habitable world discovered centuries ago. The founder named it Terminus.”

“It is the safest place,” said Luna, “and the perfect environment—politically-wise—for your group to continue its task. The untamed ecological system of Terminus is a radical change from that of Canterlot, but that can be corrected to fit your group’s preferred conditions. Still, no equine will trouble or interrupt your efforts. You will quickly fade from the memories of those officials who feel threatened. Then you will work in complete peace... “

“...with the protection of the Empire kept securely at your backs,” added Celestia.

Luna nodded. “And once your group’s part is done, they can freely return. Yet how long shall the task take?”

Starswirl looked upon them gravely. “Through my calculations and estimates, it will take decades to assemble the compendium. Perhaps it will take decades longer to spread it from world to world. By then, a new generation of unicorns would have been born and lived their lives on Terminus.”

“So within a century,” muttered Celestia. “We have that long, don’t we? I believe you gave us that much information during the trial.”

“And I will give you no more than that.”

Celestia nodded, solemnly. “The collection of all project members will take place soon. The difficult part will be contacting the participants, but Global Security’s list for your trial will likely aid us.

“Now, you are dismissed, Starswirl. You will remain in this room for now until we convey our verdict and schedule the migration. All devices within this room are still disabled, so feel free to discuss the future amongst yourselves.”

Nova snapped to attention as the Empresses rose from their seats. She spoke up. “It... it was an honor, Empresses. A...”

“Dream come true?” finished Luna, smiling softly. “It was a pleasure, Nova Sparkle. If we weren’t so busy at the time, we would have fulfilled Starswirl’s request to bring you here as a foal.”

Nova flushed, her jaw muscles failing again.

“We hope you enjoyed your experience here today. And you, too, Crescent Moon.” Under both Empresses’ gazes, Crescent remained speechless, but he bowed low to the floor.

Both Empresses turned to Starswirl. Celestia opened her mouth, but Luna quickly stepped forward. “Before I forget,” she said, “I believe we have something that belongs to you.”

Empress Luna’s horn lit up, and as if from nowhere floated a black orb no larger than her hoof. Nova stared at the item with interest as Luna said, “Global Security acquired this during their raid of your home. I remember it was a magi-tech item we gave you long ago, though Global Security could not view its contents.” She looked down at the orb. “Even we could not inspect it further without outright destroying it.”

Stabledon stared at the reflective orb, as if transfixed. But he shut his eyes and said, “You may keep it, Luna. I have no use for the Prime Magiant now, and the farther it is from me the better. Think of it as something to remember me by.” His eyes narrowed, and he trotted forward to Luna. He whispered indistinctly into her ear, and Luna’s stern gaze faltered.

“Very well,” she replied, tucking the orb into her gown pocket. “If that is your final wish, we shall fulfill it.”

Empress Celestia looked between Starswirl and Luna, but she nodded. “I suppose this will be our final farewell, then.” Starswirl nodded solemnly, and Celestia bit her lower lip. Before the silence could grow to dominate the room, she gracefully bowed, and the tip of her alicorn horn touched Starswirl’s forehead, glowing brightly before she pulled away. Locking eyes with him, Celestia waited as Empress Luna performed the same gesture.

“Am I truly worthy to receive both of your blessings, your highnesses?” asked Starswirl. The Empresses nodded immediately, a tear running down Luna’s cheek as Celestia averted her eyes. “I see. Then… farewell to the both of you,” he said quietly with a frown. “Yet, while this may be the last time you see me, you may both see the fruits of my labors.”

* * *

“The edge of the galaxy!” exclaimed Crescent Moon disbelievingly, once it was just him, Nova, and Starswirl in the room.

“Yes,” said Stabledon, “I know. It is not as bad as you think, Crescent.”

“But, Starswirl, do you realize what delays this will have on our task?”

“Yes,” he repeated, “and I have stated them already to the Empresses themselves.” Starswirl dusted his black suit with his hoof. “It was going to take decades anyway. While I normally dislike setbacks, this is a reasonable one. If you have a problem with it, you could sprint out of this room, chase down the Empresses and openly question their authority.”

Crescent Moon bit his lip, his gaze falling to the ground. “No... I... I just... I’m overwhelmed, Starswirl. This whole day has taken too many turns for my tastes. First the trial, then the reveal that we are playing a part in saving equinekind from probable destruction, then meeting the Empresses face-to-face, then discovering that they’ve worked with you... funded you, for eternity’s sake! It’s very difficult for me to calm down.”

“Then follow Nova’s example.” Starswirl glanced to her with a smirk. “She seems calmer.”

“That’s because she isn’t a part of all of this! She isn’t part of our project, and that means she isn’t included in the Empresses’ verdict. Her life won’t be drastically changed, as over a hundred thousand lives will be within the next year.”

Starswirl shrugged. “Not yet, that is.”

“Yet?” inquired Nova, her ears perking up.

Starswirl began, “You are not technically classified as part of the Stabledon group. I believe you are qualified, though. Reputations and records stick with equines, even as years pass.” Starswirl stepped closer to Nova. “On Fillyan, you published a great deal of scholarly work, am I correct?” He waited for Nova to nod, and said, “You already have experience in this sort of field, and the necessary credentials to become a unicorn of the project.”

Nova bit her lip and asked, “Were you going to ask me to join upon my return?”

Starswirl nodded, slowly shrugging his shoulders. “If I were not arrested, I would have. But I anticipated it. Global Security would have come eventually.”

“I...” Nova looked between Starswirl and Crescent, then gazed to the ground. “Sorry, Mr. Stabledon, but I don’t have a choice in the matter.” But just as Starswirl's expression flickered, Nova grinned widely. “I have to go with you all at this point.”

Starswirl frowned at her before he himself grinned, but Crescent peered at her strangely. He asked, “Why do you not have a choice?”

“Because I sat amongst you all. I was there at the trial. Global Security knows I witnessed a very personal meeting between Starswirl and the Empresses. In their books… I might as well be the fifty-first project member already.” She looked out the window, towards the distant city. “If I stay here on Canterlot, I will become a target without a doubt.”

Starswirl placed a hoof over Nova’s shoulder. “I am sorry that I wrapped you up in all this, but it is splendid to hear you are coming,” he said, his wrinkled lips still curled upwards.

“I don’t hold anything against you,” she replied. “In fact… I’m sort of looking forward to travelling so far out into the galaxy.”

“Good. Keep that motivation strong within your heart for the coming months.” Starswirl brought a hoof to his mouth and let out a low yawn. “Now, today’s multitude of events have tired me out. Leave me be for a few minutes to gather my wits. There is much to say to the other project members once we are brought back to them, such as introducing our fifty-first volunteer.”

Nova blushed, but she glanced at Crescent. “Are you sure, Starswirl? Don’t you want company?”

He smiled again, dryly. “No, I am quite all right.” Turning away, he whispered, “I am beyond all right.”

* * *

Starswirl Stabledon—soon-to-be exiled pony of the Empire—sat by the window overlooking the horizon. His eyes trailed through the dense glass of the Palace tower, absorbing the colors emitted by the lush landscape. In the distance was one of the hundreds of cities established on the perfect planet, an everlasting paradise to some.

It was too bad such bliss would not last.

He turned his attention to the few passing clouds in Canterlot’s atmosphere. To most planet-bound citizens, it was the only expanse they had ever seen. But Stabledon saw past the blue sky, moving into the vacuum of space, going farther and farther until he could observe the star-filled galaxy teeming with equine life. From that perspective he broke the Empire down into separate equations, each simplifying the behavior of groups. The numerical values changed as time accelerated, lowering and raising to frantic levels. The situation would grow worse. The magnificent Empire would recede, then collapse. If a mathematician could see what he was seeing, they would lose all hope for their lives, their world and civilization itself.

Then, among the chaos and ruin of the worlds, Starswirl saw a shining sphere at the boundary of the fallen Empire. It pushed away the darkness, regulating the unbalanced equations, returning harmony to the war-torn galaxy and restoring the era of peace and order.

This was an outcome worth fighting for—worth the lifetime he had spent perfecting his science.

Starswirl grinned, knowing that the inner workings of his plan—of psychohistory itself—had been set in motion.

End of Act 1: The Premonition

Author's Note:

Acknowledgements
===============
Cadderly Illuvatar—Editor
Golden Vision—Reviewer
Mango12—Pre-reader

Comments

[Cynewulf]

I agree with Raven. I think I like you.

Not bad at all. Not bad at all...

[MysteriousFox]

Is it me or is this an ASIMOV-VERSE FIC?!?

[Horizon Runner]

Given the span of time that has passed since this was last updated, I'm guessing that work has either stalled or ceased. That... is a real shame. It's rare (extraordinarily so) to run across anything related to Foundation these days, and I'm looking forward to reading this, even if it's destined to remain incomplete.

[Arroz]

Such a shame that this is left quiet, i was looking forward to the arc of the Encyclopedists in pony form.