Hand of the Ancients

She wanted to tell them everything. From the vast distances they'd crossed to the incredible discoveries they'd made along the way. The transformations they had been through, the homeworld they had visited, and the strange mechanical minds they had befriended.

Computer didn't stop her—she was as free to share information as to give her ship commands. Her concerns were entirely practical in nature.

Emperor Grant Septimus Aurelius was on his way, and even Lyra knew little about what that might mean. She could've invited an invasion of her home, and there would now be very little she could do to stop it.

As Princess Celestia suggested, there were three Alicorns present for that conversation, locked away in the privacy of the princess's study. She had to face them alone—whatever she said about the others' true identity as ponies, they wanted to hear from her. That meant her crew could advise members of the castle staff on preparations for their visitor, and whatever force he might bring.

Princess Twilight seemed the most attentive to her conversation. Princess Luna responded with pain to the first mention of the Horn, while Princess Celestia kept herself entirely neutral. But she had to resist the urge, prioritizing only what was most important. She told them about the ancients, and the truth of their origin. She told them about the war, and the machines of their long-dead ancestors that hoped to free them from imprisonment.

She could say little of all the wonderful things she had seen—Vulcan's vast station, stars that birthed the metal for new ships, knowledge of magic far deeper than any in Equestria had ever imagined.

For now, she only hinted of the station's offer to allow ponies to live there. She would need to share that in time and try to persuade them as energetically as she could. But at that moment, it could wait. Equestria had to survive before it could inherit anything.

Finally, she told them about the fleet waiting in orbit, and the way they'd attacked as soon as her ships arrived. About the emperor, who claimed to be protecting a primitive world from whatever evil would take relic ships and turn them into weapons against the helpless.

"I convinced him to stop fighting," she finished, after about an hour of hurried explanations. "He seemed terrified of the ships but was willing to negotiate if we could find a neutral place. Since this was all about Equestria anyway... I figured you would do way better with diplomacy than I ever could."

She closed her notes with a little tap of her magic, finally looking away from the assembled Alicorns.

They'd done it—crossed the universe, made it home. Now all that remained was Celestia's judgment. Or the emperor's, if Computer was right.

For a long time, nopony spoke. Part of Lyra wondered if the Alicorns were silently speaking to each other, much as she could do with Computer. But whatever magic they used; Lyra had no hope of sensing it.

"The immortal machine warned you that this emperor would not act in good faith. It believed you could triumph in martial contest, securing safety for the Equestrian system. Yet you refused, why?"

Of course, the first question was the one she least knew how to answer. Any of the new information she had learned, any technical problem she solved—that was easy. Why couldn't they ask about that?

"Many griffons would die, even if we won. And I don't think the emperor wants to hurt any pony down here. He had months while we ran repairs, and never fired a shot. Besides, it... didn't feel like a very pony thing to do."

Princess Twilight nodded. "There's a lot to take in from all that. I'm sure we'll be spending hours going over the specifics. I look forward to seeing the inside of that... starship. But that's probably not the most important thing for us to worry about."

Lyra nodded. "The emperor’s ship is in orbit above us now. It looks like a landing craft is coming out from inside. Computer says that it's... found a landing spot in the castle courtyard."

Princess Twilight's eyebrow went up. "The machine told you that? How?"

Lyra tapped her forehead with one hoof. "Something about being captain. There's this device I'm wearing all the time, called the... Captain's Mantle. It communicates with the ship, tells me how it's doing, and anything else the computer wants to tell me." Mostly how upset it was with this whole course of action.

The longer they waited without dying under the emperor's bombardment, the less outwardly antagonistic it became. But it couldn't say a word without another warning about the emperor's lies. What happens if this actually works? Will you admit you were wrong?

The machine gave her no answer.

"We must secure peace," Princess Celestia said. "Equestria has lived in obscurity for many lifetimes without drawing the ire of this Republic. We will make whatever concession is required to preserve it. We cannot allow this threat to disrupt the lives of our ponies. We do not need these... ships, only their understanding."

"Princess..." Twilight began. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. If what we just learned is all true—there's more out there. More than one planet. She says we're not even from here—maybe ponies would like to know that! We could go out there and see it for ourselves, bring back everything we learn."

"And there is something to be said for security." Princess Luna stood up, pacing slowly to the window. Her horn glowed, and the curtains lifted aside. High above, a dark shape appeared, growing larger by the second. "If we yield these tools, we necessarily surrender to the whims of this and all future emperors, and any other creature that comes to power. I am reluctant to accept total surrender."

Princess Celestia raised a hoof. "There is much to discuss, and little time. We require a united front... perhaps our intrepid captain would make a suggestion? Her expedition is responsible for these events, and she has seen more of the world outside Equestria than any living pony."

Lyra had expected this question of course. Even if they didn't care what she thought, having so little time to decide meant much less to devise their own plans.

"Everything I've seen—it feels like we belong up there. We're the last survivors of an ancient race. Our ancestors tried a war, and that didn't work—they're all gone. Now it's our turn to try something new. I don't think we can give up the sky. We need our own ships for the universe to treat us like equals. If our ancestors left us the tools, we should use them."

There was some discussion after that. Not all the Alicorns agreed. Princess Luna seemed to want to fight these intruders out of the system, while Celestia wanted total surrender. Her own position was right in the middle—and fortunately, Twilight agreed.

They didn't ask her to justify much more. Lyra sat quietly as the rulers of Equestria decided in a few minutes how they would respond to a deadly enemy already on their way down.

The specifics of their plan were largely lost on her. Lyra could talk someone out of a fight, but that wasn't that same as drawing up international treaties. All these months she'd spent fearing she was the only hope of salvation for Equestria, but finally that weight could be lifted.

"You will need to be there for the initial meeting," Princess Celestia said, about an hour later. "And remain close, in case we have further questions. But this emperor will probably respond better to another monarch. If he is anything like the griffons we know, I believe we will find an accord."

"Assuming that vessel does not open to disgorge marines into the city and slaughter all they see," Computer said silently to her. "Your species has not survived across the vast expanse of time because they are tolerant of such risks. Yet in this case, the danger you face is not distributed across a vast empire. If this planet dies, the human legacy goes with it. The universe will contain only barbarians and monsters until the end of time."

Maybe Computer was right. The risk was certainly there. "Their old war doesn't have to live in us," she thought back. "Maybe we come from humans, but we don't have to think exactly like they did. We don't have to live like they did, either."

Then they were in the courtyard. Lyra's friends would watch from the windows—in the unlikely event this worked, they could introduce the Griffon Emperor to facts more gradually. Humans were their ancient terrors—but ponies were something else. Entertaining enough to make media based on them and visit the planet as tourists once.

The griffon ship looked nothing like the Horn of Celestia. It came down like a block of rusty metal, scorching the castle gardens with flames from its landing jets. Chunks of it were missing, or else had been patched by awkward welding across the gaps. A bright black and yellow flag was sprayed into the metal across most of it, repeated on many of its ports and other openings.

Did they fly a bomb down on us? What kind of emperor would use a ship like that?

Then the ramp opened. Lyra wasn't instantly vaporized or trampled in a charge of thousands of marines. Instead, a small party emerged—a half-dozen guards in metal armor, flanking a few smaller figures. In the center of the group was the bird Lyra had first seen—the emperor, with gold on his jacket instead of silver.

They descended together, smelling of flame and lubricant. The guards had real weapons, not pony spears and crossbows—but even these were mismatched and haphazard, no two quite alike.

"His highness Emperor Grant Septimus Aurelius, the Magnificent Sovereign of the Divine Griffon Republic, Protector of the Thousand Systems, Guardian of the Eternal Light, Supreme Commander of the Celestial Legions, Keeper of the Ancient Wisdom, High Overseer of the Frontier Realms, and Last Scion of the Aurelian Dynasty," said a bird from inside. "All will give honor to the emperor of the universe."

Princess Celestia gestured, and her guards bowed. Lyra joined them—but the princesses did not, looking on with simple confidence.

"Enough of that, Cecil," said the emperor, shoving his way past the guards. Even in his regal finest, he was barely a head taller than Lyra. She'd known plenty of Equestrian griffons that grew bigger than him. Yet they were the same species. These birds had all the staples, same beak, same feathers. "If this is the part where your army waiting in ambush emerges to take me captive, get on with it."

He looked around, eyes scanning the high castle walls. There were plenty of guards around—every royal guard in the castle was out there somewhere. But none emerged to attack.

Princess Celestia chuckled politely, taking one small step forward. "I believe we considered you would try something similar. An overwhelming assault against the palace, while we waited to speak in peace. We have no threat waiting to strike you down, Emperor."

"Except her." He nodded towards Lyra. "An admiral with a fleet of functional relic ships. Minutes of engagement inflicted significant damage on my fleet. You could order them to return to the field while we spoke."

Lyra joined the line. "I think we've both had enough death over the years, Emperor. The only way to end it is if we both stop killing each other."

"Both?" He watched her come with surprising confidence. However humble his retinue, this bird could still behave with dignity. Maybe he was a real emperor after all. "We've never been to war with this planet. We didn't even know you realized we were here. I suspect my predecessors did not know you as well as they thought."

Computer said nothing then—but she felt its emotions anyway. It was utterly dumbfounded, followed seconds later by intense skepticism.

"Why now?" Lyra asked. Maybe she was stepping out of line—but if she didn't say anything, the computer might explode her head. "The Republic wasn't eager to negotiate in the past."

"My empire crumbles around me, Equestrians. But I see abundance before me. Your wisdom may exceed my own." He sighed, extending one claw towards the princess. "The ancients made us both. Perhaps there is some bond shared in that kinship."

"Perhaps," Celestia said. "Please come inside, Emperor. I'm certain we can find some arrangement to the mutual benefit of all."