Midnight Court Federal District, The Lunar Domain
To Rye Oats, the capital of his nation seemed to be an entirely different world. For almost all of his life, he had lived on his family's homestead in the Commonwealth of Fillydelphia, and had only left once before. That time had been for an Apple Family reunion in the Municipality of Ponyville, although those attending numbered in the thousands, so it was more of a convention than anything else.
The reason he had left once again this time, however, was because of bad luck. Things had started simply enough: nine months ago, it was planting season, and his wife, Lily Petal, fourteen year old son, Mint Chive, and Oats himself were hard at work. But come two months later, Oats started to notice something was off about his crops' growth. They seemed weak, and were brittle to the touch.
He soon found out that his crops had been infected with a rare disease that affected crops, usually caused by accidental exposure to a certain type of magic. The Ministry of Public Welfare sent a representative out to assist with attempting to recover what was lost in terms of food and monetary gain, but the assistance he had received was nothing.
In fact, he knew since three weeks prior that him and his family would not be able to pay their taxes owed to the national government without starving. So he had, at his wife's persistence, swallowed his pride and sent in a request to The Office of The Princess of The Lunar Domain for tax decrement.
Two weeks after that, he received a call from an employee in the Midnight Palace, who was curious if the farmer would want to talk with Princess Luna herself over the case. Even though it came as a surprise, for it was usually citizens requesting audience with the Princess, he agreed to a time in the early morning of March 15, 3020.
So now he was here, in the busy capital of Midnight Court Federal District. He had heard once that while the District didn't have a population greater than ten thousand, it seemed that the work of millions was being done. It certainly seemed that way to Oats, various government employees bustled around the streets, dashing from building to building, or quickly grabbing a bite to eat from a restaurant. The lanes of the road were crammed with various vehicles: trucks whose design descended from the Warthogs of the twenty-sixth and twenty-seventh centuries, and there were Jackson & 'Marak SUVs, which often times could be only afforded by half a year's typical salary.
As he slowly made his way to the Midnight Palace that rested in the northern end of the District, he glanced over at the Ministry Square, an area of the district where all of the Ministries were headquartered. The buildings looked modern, but little did Oats know that while the exterior of the building had changed with time, the interiors of the buildings had remained untouched since the days of Equestria.
He noticed the Parliament building, which although it was blocks away from his route, it loomed over the District. Currently, the five hundred souls who created laws for the country were debating over a Resolution.
By the time Rye Oats got to the Midnight Palace, he was forty-five minutes early, although this was planned: the employee he spoke with suggested arriving very early because of all the security checkpoints. He already could see the amount of protection the Palace bore: out in the main entrance a squad of ten Lunar Guards was keeping watch. They had a heavy machine gun set up, operated by a Sangheili, while the rest of the squad bore the standard issue assault rifles for the military.
The commanding officer of the squad immediately approached Oats, as per standard procedure. The rest subtly prepared for a firefight, switching off safeties; it most likely would not happen, but more than once some got the idea the best way to broadcast their message was to kill those who led a nation.
"Good morning." The commanding officer, while he was an imposing Jiralhanae, tried to sound as friendly as possible. "I'm Sergeant Vibius. What brings you out here today?"
Oats tried to remain calm; while he knew that they were just doing their job, their weaponry certainly imposed. "I... I'm here to see Princess Luna for an appointment."
Sergeant Vibius nodded, and continued. "What's your name?"
"Rye Oats." He said it like it was a mantra. "I'm from Fillydelphia." The sergeant once again nodded, and turned to look at one of the guards. The guard in turn got on her radio to confirm that a Rye Oats from Fillydelphia was supposed to be meeting with Luna, and that they were a brown Earth Pony stallion. A moment after, the guard gave a gesture of confirmation, and Vibius looked at Oats once more.
"Alright Mr. Oats, welcome to the Midnight Palace." The Jiralhanae stepped aside and gestured for Oats to go in. Oats quickly shuffled off, scared that he would be accidentally shot.
The guards in turn gave a sigh of relief when he went out of view: the moment Oats had stuttered they knew he wasn't a threat. It was usually the ones who sounded too calm that were.
The ticking of the clock in the room almost annoyed Oats. He had gotten through all of the security after about half an hour, and had finally arrived in the waiting room. He was nearly alone: a mare he thought to be a secretary was furiously working on papers at her desk, and a single imposing Lunar Guard stood motionless, his expression seeming to not change in the slightest.
He looked at the stained glass windows on opposite walls, and saw they depicted historical events of the nation's predecessor. The Elements of Harmony overcoming Nightmare Moon was displayed on one wall, while Discord's defeat by their hand was displayed on the other. Although Oats was not aware of this, the waiting room and the office that the Princess was currently in were both a single room. In that room, Princess Celestia once held court before the Civil War, and it was there, at the War's end, that she was hit by a bullet on her horn, but it was intended for her head.
On the walls that were a part of both the waiting room and the Princess's office, there hung a picture of Luna with General Jackie Susan Apple at her first inauguration.
"Mr. Oats?" The earth pony nearly jumped as the voice pierced the silence. He looked to see that it was the statue-still guard. "Come in."
The guard opened the door, and Oats got up from his haunches and entered.
The office he entered seemed relatively modest: while there lay a fireplace on one end, the desk in the center was wooden, and bore framed pictures that Oats couldn't see. Bookshelves and filing cabinets lie on the wall opposite the door. He noticed the alicorn finally, and was mildly surprised.
Whenever he had seen the Princess on television, she seemed ethreal, otherworldly, like the Prime Minister. Yet now, he stood before her, and she seemed just like another mare, albeit an exceptionally beautiful one. Not that he would ever trade Lily for anyone else.
"Mr. Oats," Luna greeted. "Please, have a seat."
Oats noticed the chair in front of the desk, and did as he was told. As Luna sat down on her side of the desk, he saw that her horn was slightly glowing. Luna had long ago learned how to control the stellar bodies without much effort or thought, in fact she could do so in her sleep by now.
"So, Mr. Oats," she started. "How was your trip out here? I hope it wasn't too costly."
He was surprised by the question, as it seemed more casual than anything else. "I rode the Transtate," he replied.
"Alright then." She smiled, and didn't break her eyes off of Oats for a second. "What do you think of the District?"
"I don't know, I haven't been here that long. The train arrived at 3:00 AM." He realized that could have been interpreted as snide, and he quickly added on. "I think it's unique."
Luna nodded, and at last broke eye contact, turning her eyes to a small stack of papers lying on her desk. "Well, Mr. Oats, let's get down to business shall we?"
For a moment, Oats thought it was a rhetorical question, but as she stared at him silently for seconds on end he realized she was honestly asking the question. "Yes," he answered.
Luna smiled and levitated out a sheet of paper. "So, Rye Oats, you have lived at 1539 Peckerberry Way for how long?"
"My entire life." Oats was becoming slightly nervous. Hopefully he wouldn't screw things up. "My family's owned that land for ages."
"And a Ms. Lily Petal, your wife, resides there along with your son Mint Chive?" He nodded. "Any others living on your property?"
"My aunt Bale, she's getting old and our family doesn't exactly believe in retirement homes."
"Indeed." Luna scrutinized something on the page. "I see that your average annual income exceeds the poverty line, and quite noticeably too." She looked Oats in the eyes once more. "Any reason you don't have money saved from that?"
The question threw Oats off guard, for a moment, he feared that he was going to be booted out. "Most of our money's spent on keeping the farm running: repairing buildings, getting materials for crops, repairing tools. Any other money we have is spent on our family for clothes, or sometimes other things."
"Other things?"
Oats sighed. "I got toys for Mint when he was little, and I still get some things for him once in a while. I do give my family gifts sometimes." He expected the inevitable now.
"Alright." Luna moved on through the page. "Have you or your family ever had problems before with your crops?"
"Not that I recall."
"Do you receive assistance from the Ministry of the Environment?"
Oats wondered silently if she was trying to guilt trip him. "Just for weather."
Luna once again nodded. "Have you, or your family, ever failed to pay annual federal tax?"
"I don't think so..." He trailed off as he realized the way that sounded. Luna looked at him, and for a moment said nothing.
"Mendicant." For a moment, he didn't know what she was talking about. Then, as if to show off, what appeared to be a large, metallic, glowing eye came out of the fireplace. Oats became afraid, as he was shocked that he was no longer alone in what should have been a private conversation.
"Yes?" The glowing part of the eye seemed to dim as it said that.
"Has Rye Oats, or any of his relatives, ever failed to pay annual federal tax?" He realized that this was an AI, but was confused at the appearance of it. He thought AIs only used holograms for appearances, not whatever chassis this one bore. For a second, the eye grew bright in its center, like a pupil, and it appeared to be facing Oats. Just as quickly it disappeared.
"Well, technically, a relative of his has failed to do so. But it's his great-great-great grandfather from 2654." The AI spoke almost in a humorous tone, and Oats took slight offense.
Luna, in a surprising gesture, frowned and rolled her eyes. "Thanks Mendicant. I'm sure James has some need of you."
The AI seemed to laugh as it disappeared once more into the fireplace. Luna for a moment lowered the papers and sighed. "I apologize for Mendicant's behavior. He has a tendency to be a little odd."
"It's fine." Oats wasn't sure whether to thank the AI or not, because it did seem to have diverted scrutiny to itself.
Luna once again looked at the papers, and shuffled through them. "What was the Ministry of Public Welfare's response to your crop's disease?"
"Their response?" He was surprised she didn't know. "They told me the crop was infected by a rare disease. They gave me maybe 5,000 credits in compensation."
Luna took a breath. "Well, Mr. Oats, I apologize for your situation. Given the circumstances, I do not believe a tax decrement is the appropriate course of action." Oats' heart sank as she said that. "I believe that the best course of action is a tax exemption."
For a moment, Rye Oats couldn't believe what the alicorn had said. Nevertheless, it settled in. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I'll make sure we get our payment in next year."
"It's quite alright, Mr. Oats. It's my job to help people like you." As Oats left to tell his family of the news, Luna looked at one of the framed pictures on her desk.
"Why? Why would you ever do what you did?"
The picture she looked at seemed to have been taken a lifetime ago, during a time where Luna thought her sister was a benevolent ruler.
"Why Celestia?"