Lunar Orbit

by Benman

One Giant Leap

Princess Celestia was never alone. Her royal person was the beating heart of the Equestrian nation, and ponies flowed to and fro in a constant stream, bearing order and wisdom to the far corners of the world. She spent most of her time at the center of a crowd, and the rest in small meetings and sober conclaves.

It had taken a good deal of time and effort for Celestia to shoo away the councilors, courtiers, confidants, advisors, admirers, students, servants, bureaucrats, and busybodies who attended her every waking moment, and still she was not quite alone.

“I am glad of thy arrival,” said Luna. “I feared affairs of state would keep thee overlong.”

This was the closest thing to privacy Princess Celestia had known in months. Why, then, did she feel so self-conscious?

“Of course I came,” said Celestia. “I said I would be here, didn’t I?”

The two of them were the only living beings in Luna’s study. Two walls of navy blue were taken up entirely by shelves that stretched three stories to the domed ceiling, every inch crammed with strange tomes, grotesque statuettes, bits of machinery, foreign artwork, and other curios. The other walls were hung with white gossamer curtains. A black marble table sat in the center of the room, with dark purple divans on all four sides.

Luna sank onto one of the divans. “Indeed thou didst,” she said. “Shall we begin?”

Celestia nodded and took a seat opposite her sister, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over her as she did so, as well as… other emotions. Her heart was pounding like an oncoming train, but feigning serenity was like breathing: it took more effort to stop.

Luna’s horn shone faintly as she levitated a game board of polished spruce and two rosewood bowls from one of the lower shelves and slid them softly onto the table. She lifted the lids off the bowls, revealing two sets of small, nearly flat stones, one white and one black.

The corner of Celestia’s mouth twitched up as she took the bowl of white stones. “I’ve missed this,” she said. A millennium of practice, hoping this day would come. “Now, how many stones of handicap do you want?”

“Handicap?” Luna scowled. “I would play this game on even terms.”

Celestia’s smirk never wavered. “You haven’t played Go in a thousand years, Luna.”

“Not true! I have been practicing with Lodestar.”

“Your attendant?” Celestia pursed her lips. “I’m surprised. She doesn’t seem like the type.”

“I taught her,” Luna admitted.

“It’s good to see you two bonding, but a couple of games against a novice can’t undo a millennium of neglecting your skills.”

Luna tossed her head in annoyance, sending her mane drifting like a slow-motion meteor shower. “As thou wilt. Set the handicap.”

“Seven stones.”

Luna glared, but levitated seven black stones across the board. One by one, they struck the traditional starting points with a sharp tak sound. Theoretically, Luna now had control of almost the entire board. In a remotely even match, it would have been an insurmountable advantage.

Of course, Celestia mused as she placed her first stone, it wasn’t a remotely even match. Luna’s strategies would be a millennium out of date and rusted from disuse.

They played in silence for long minutes. Despite Luna’s efforts to keep her contained, Celestia seized control of two corners and began extending her influence towards the center of the board.

“I have missed this as well,” said Luna. She placed a stone, attacking a group of her sister’s pieces. Tak. “How long is it since last we played? Eleven hundred years?”

Celestia ignored the attack and placed a stone in unclaimed territory on the other side of the board. Tak. “One thousand, one hundred, and eighty-three years.”

“Thou rememberst so well?” Tak.

“Very. I offered you a handicap, I can’t remember how much. You rejected it.” Tak. “I started winning. You moved my stones when you thought I wasn’t looking.” The ancient image of her sister’s sullen face, nursing her wounded pride, flashed through Celestia’s mind. She remembered it as vividly as the cackling Nightmare.

Tak. Luna placed a stone in silence.

“I didn’t say anything. I let you think I didn’t notice. I never asked you to play Go again.” Tak. Celestia’s stone connected two of her own threatened groups, strengthening both, and simultaneously attacked Luna’s adjacent group, bringing it one step closer to death. “I should have handled it better. I’m sorry.”

“Thou art apologizing for my dishonesty.” Tak.

Tak. “I’m apologizing for cutting you off when you needed me most.”

“My actions were my own responsibility.” Tak. Luna’s move was an entirely defensive attempt to shore up a wall that had seemed unbreachable a turn ago.

“We’ve had this conversation before. Let’s not have it again. We came here to play Go, not to argue.” Tak.

“In truth, I called thee here for another purpose.” Tak. “I have a request.”

Celestia looked up from the board, a slow smile spreading across her face. “You came up with an innocent reason to see me in private, so nopony would suspect! That’s remarkably deft. Your courtly skills really are coming back.”

“They are indeed. Thus, my request. I wish to resume my full duties as a princess of Equestria.”

“You’re getting there.” Tak. “You did a fine job of leading the rebuilding effort after the changeling attack, and your agricultural commission turned out well enough, aside from that thing about the yams.”

“Minor tasks, worthy of a trusted aide. The Princess of the Night would have more.” Tak. “I have prepared a list of offices I would assume.” Luna levitated a scroll from the shelves behind her and placed it beside Celestia’s bowl of stones.

The parchment crackled as Celestia unrolled it. Her eyes widened at its contents. “What? Luna, this is too much. First Justiciar? Equestrian Treasurer? Minister of Roads? How long does this go on?” She drew the scroll to its full length. It was slightly shorter than the game board.

“It is yet less than a listing of thine own offices.”

“I picked up my duties slowly, over hundreds of years. I never added this much at once. I understand that you want more responsibility, but you shouldn’t overdo it.” Celestia passed the scroll back to Luna. “Pick two of these. We’ll try it out and see how it goes.”

“It is said that we rule Equestria as equals. Is that a lie? Wilt thou deny my commands whenever thou wishst?”

Celestia suppressed a sigh. So this was another of Luna’s attempts to test her boundaries. Well, it was healthier than the months she had spent avoiding her courtly duties. “You’re still recovering,” she said. “You know that. Six months ago, you were too nervous to leave these chambers more than once a week or so. In time you will be my equal again, but for today, you aren’t in any shape to lead a nation.”

“And I presume it is thy sole privilege to determine when I am ready?”

“When you’re ready, you won’t need my permission.”

“Ah.” Luna grinned. “A test, then. I may even enjoy this.”

“That isn’t what I—”

“I will take the third and the twenty-fourth offices I have listed.”

Celestia shrugged inwardly. She wasn’t in the habit of turning down opportunities like this. If Luna wanted a test, then she would have one. Celestia turned back to the scroll. “Minister of Roads, I see. That’s a lot of responsibility, but I’m sure you’ll be up to the challenge. What else?” Her eyes scanned further down. “What, really? I thought that one was here as some kind of joke.”

“I assure you, I am in earnest. That position is vital to my plans.”

Celestia looked up with an incredulous stare. “Captain of the Wonderbolts?”

Spitfire descended through the early morning mist to join her comrades. The Wonderbolts were normally a boisterous lot, shouting and joking whenever more than two of them were in the same place, but today the only sounds were occasional dark mutterings and the wind screaming through Ghastly Gorge. Spitfire landed on the tip of a narrow outcropping, facing her subordinates and putting her back to the gorge. Her strangely elongated shadow stretched out before her.

“Alright, boys and girls!” she shouted. “Quiet down and listen up!” Not that she needed to quiet them, today, but the habit was hard to break. “You’ve probably heard the rumors by now. Well, I just got confirmation. Princess Luna’s taking over.”

A dozen voices broke out at once. Spitfire relaxed inwardly. This, she knew how to deal with.

“SHUT UP!” Spitfire had to shout several times before attention was focused on her once again. “Right. Now, there’s no use complaining. This comes from the big C herself. I tried asking Princess Cadence to stop her, but no luck there. Like it or not, this is happening. Okay? Good. Any questions?”

“Yeah!” A green-scaled hand shot up in the air. “What in the hay does some fancy princess know about running the Wonderbolts?”

“She’s supposed to be thousands of years old,” said Spitfire. “I bet she knows just about everything.” Spitfire wasn’t feeling nearly so confident, but she had to lead by example, at least for the next few minutes.

“But she doesn’t know us,” continued the dragon. Spark wasn’t fully grown, but he was still half again as big as a pony. Getting uniforms made for him was always a pain. “She’s an outsider. I don’t care how wise and powerful she is, she doesn’t know the first thing about how we work.” There was muttered agreement from the ponies around him.

“Hey!” said Spitfire. “She’s still our princess. Let’s remember to—”

“YOUR PRINCESS IS QUITE CAPABLE OF SPEAKING FOR HERSELF.” The force—it was too loud to be merely a voice—shook the ledge under Spitfire’s hooves. Pebbles broke free and tumbled into the gorge. When Spitfire recovered her senses, she turned towards the source of the sound.

Princess Luna rose from the depths of Ghastly Gorge. Spitfire had never seen her in daylight before, but she had to admit it was impressive. Princess Luna was framed by the rising sun, making it painful to look directly at her, but Spitfire couldn’t tear her eyes from the red-gold sheen playing over that immaculate coat. She suddenly understood why Princess Luna had wanted to meet here, of all places.

Princess Luna landed on the ledge beside Spitfire, who unconsciously moved aside to make room. “There are objections to my taking command,” she said at a much more reasonable volume. “I will allay your concerns.”

“Um,” said Spitfire. “Good. How?”

“There is an ancient law, dating back to the origin of the Wonderbolts. When there are multiple qualified contenders for the position of captain, it is tradition to settle the matter with a race.”

“You can’t do that!” Soarin stepped forward from the mass of pegasi. “Nopony’s done that in a thousand years!”

Princess Luna fixed him with a level stare.

“Oh,” said Soarin. “Right. Never mind.”

She turned to Spitfire. “What sayst thou?”

“What if I win?” said Spitfire.

Princess Luna paused. “I had not considered that. What is thy wish?”

“I keep command of the Bolts, of course.”

“Of course.”

Spitfire pressed forward. “And we get a new lounge for the barracks. The old one is getting kinda janky.”

“You will have one regardless. My servitors shall have nothing but the best. I trust that is all?”

“Sure,” said Spitfire. “It’s a deal. Where and when?”

“Here. Now.”

“I like your style.” Spitfire turned to their audience. “Hey, Soarin! You get to be judge. Fleetfoot, you’re picking the course.”

What followed was a chaotic half hour as Fleetfoot marked a route through the gorge and the Wonderbolts spread out to watch. Soarin took his position at the finish line. Spitfire and Princess Luna lined up at the edge of a jagged outcropping. Spitfire stretched her wings while Princess Luna stood placidly.

“We ready?” said Spitfire. Princess Luna nodded.

“Okay,” said Spark. “Ready, and… GO!”

Spitfire leaped off the ledge. At her side, Princess Luna dissolved, turning into a dark blue mist. The mist darted forward, too fast to be seen as anything more than a faint blur. Seconds later, the distant figure of Princess Luna appeared at the finish line.

Spitfire pulled to a halt. “Wait,” she said. “What?”

A burst of cobalt light. Princess Luna hovered at her side with an understated smirk.

“Hold on!” said Spitfire. “That doesn’t count! This is a flying contest, not a… a whatever that was contest!”

“As thou wilt. Return to the start, that I may defeat thee at thine own game. I shall inform our judge of thy request.” Princess Luna teleported away with another cobalt flash.

Spitfire flew back to the ledge. Seconds later, Princess Luna popped into existence beside her. Spitfire spread her wings and put on a brave face, but she was shaken. She had flown races she knew she could win before, and she had flown races she knew she would lose, but she had never flown when she was so thoroughly confused. Spitfire couldn’t help wondering what other tricks Princess Luna had prepared.

“You guys ready?” said Spark. “Alright, GO!”

Both ponies dove off the edge, trading height for speed. They leveled off bare meters above the stagnant river at the base of the gorge. The wind of their passing kicked up two parallel sprays of water as they rocketed forward. Spitfire found herself grinning. This was more like it.

Princess Luna was faster, somehow, but Spitfire had flown Ghastly Gorge more times than she could count. She knew every twist and turn, and more importantly, every whorl and eddy of the wind currents that twisted through the canyon like a bag of angry snakes. Spitfire used every subtle advantage the air could give her, and it was barely enough to keep up. The two ponies flew neck and neck, gaining or losing a few feet depending on the wind.

Halfway through the race, Spitfire’s wings burned with fatigue, and Princess Luna showed no signs of tiring. Still, Spitfire couldn’t keep a confident smirk from her face. Just ahead, the racecourse passed through the infamous Wind Tunnel, a dark cavern that reached to the top of the gorge. The crosswinds inside were strong enough and unpredictable enough to be a serious danger even to experienced flyers—except for a layer of still air just below the cavern’s roof. Spitfire climbed several ponylengths, positioning herself to take the smooth route.

Princess Luna seemed to catch on. She followed Spitfire’s movement, rising up below the pegasus. Princess Luna’s bulk forced Spitfire to rise out of the way rather than risk a crash. With a start, Spitfire realized that Princess Luna was on course for the smooth route, while her own trajectory would carry her straight into the tunnel’s roof. She grimaced and sank, attempting to force her competitor down as she went. Princess Luna responded by veering up. Spitfire hastily followed suit, barely in time to avoid impaling herself on Princess Luna’s horn.

The two ponies continued their shallow climb as they streaked towards the Wind Tunnel. Now they were both on a collision course with the roof, but neither was willing to break away and lose speed. Beads of sweat ran down Spitfire’s face, and not only from exertion. They were barely a dozen yards from the cavern. Spitfire pulled up sharply, prepared to fly a loop and dive into the tunnel. She never got the chance.

Princess Luna simply continued forward. She wrapped her wings tightly around herself just before she slammed into the solid rock of the roof and disappeared in a shower of rubble and dust.

Spitfire halted her flight to hover above the tunnel and watch in horror. The roar of the crash went on and on, sounding like the world’s biggest dragon chewing a mouthful of boulders. The dust faded, revealing a princess-sized hole in the cavern roof, and still the grinding, smashing noise continued. Spitfire could only gape.

The far side of the cavern roof exploded outwards, flinging rocks the size of foals into the river below as Princess Luna burst out of the tunnel. She was now traveling at half her original speed and coated in a layer of pulverized rock, but otherwise none the worse for wear. She unfurled her wings and continued forward, trailing pieces of gravel behind her.

“What?” Spitfire said to nopony in particular. “What in the ever-whatting what?”

It was half a minute before Princess Luna noticed her competition was still hovering in place, dumbfounded. When she did, she reversed course and flew to Spitfire. The rest of the Wonderbolts followed suit, gathering around the two of them in a rough sphere.

“Will that suffice?” said Princess Luna.

“Yeah,” said Spitfire, fighting to keep the quaver from her voice. “Yeah, I think we’re good.”

“Not so fast!” Spark hovered with his arms crossed over his chest. “That was supposed to be a test of flying, without any intrinsic magic. That was definitely intrinsic magic right there.”

“She just flew through fifty yards of solid rock,” said Soarin. “I don’t care if she used her magic whatsits, I think maybe we should do what she says, now.”

“The judge hath spoken,” said Princess Luna.

“Okay,” said Spitfire. “Now what, Captain?”

Princess Luna shook dust and flecks of rock from her coat. “There shall be no drastic changes. Your duties will continue as before. As the first of my followers, you will be called upon to perform additional tasks from time to time, and you shall enjoy my favor, should you require it. In two nights’ time, I shall appear at your barracks to review my troops. Spitfire, thou wilt lead the Wonderbolts in your day-to-day business, as before.” She paused. “I fear I know not the modern term for such a pony. Thou mayst choose thy own title.”

“Any title?” Spitfire tried to hide her grin, and failed.

“It matters not.”

“Right. Let’s go with general.”

“Can you do that?” said Soarin. “I don’t think generals are supposed to answer to captains.”

“Don’t you dare screw this up this for me, pretty boy.”

“Very well, General Spitfire,” said Princess Luna. “There is but one more command. Henceforth, when the Wonderbolts are called to respond to danger, you will summon me as well. All Equestria will see what your princess is capable of.”

Author's Note:

This was going to be a kind-of not-really sequel to One Small Step. I had a beginning and an end planned out, but it needed about 3000 words of middle and I had no idea what could go in there.

Comments

[zero588]

There should be a continuation of this.

[PresentPerfect]

Man, this stands alone pretty damn well though.

[Solitair]

Oh lordy, I love this Luna.