Hand of the Ancients

Lyra waited outside the council chambers while the affairs of empires were decided. She heard some of it through the doors—raised voices, arguments over things she didn't quite understand, and impassioned pleas from ponies and griffons alike. A few times Twilight or Luna emerged for a brief conversation, or to ask her the meaning of some term. She had to explain why the “Sylphgate” was so important, and why the ancestors’ technology could not be used by griffons.

While she sat, members of the other delegation waited on the opposite side of the room. For the first few hours the Royal Guards and griffon soldiers watched each other with hostility and skepticism. But then somepony arrived with dinner, and they gave up. The birds were evidently as hungry as they were dirty.

Lyra was there when the birds left that night—and there again in the morning when the emperor returned with a larger delegation. She was there the next week, when unicorns pushing versions of a paper treaty duplicated by magic hurried out of the room, taking several copies out to the emperor's starship, while others went to be dispersed into Equestria.

No army ever came—no bombardment, no illness sweeping across the nation and slaughtering all it touched. Eventually, even Computer had to admit what was already obvious to Lyra: the birds were telling the truth.

"It has been many thousands of years," it said, when the emperor finally walked away from his ship, and it ascended into the air again. "After all this time—they've been compelled to change. Defeated by an enemy, perhaps. Or crushed by a plague. The Republic of my records would never negotiate in good faith, and never surrender."

"Is it a long-term deception? Could they be trying to steal the secrets of human technology over generations? Until they don't need us anymore?"

The computer said nothing for a time, as though deep in thought. Finally it answered, with far less confidence than any of its previous pronouncements. "It is possible. But the barbarians have never been very cunning. They cannot conceal their emotions for long. Their soldiers would betray this truth long before the first shot was fired."

Of course, nopony asked for her approval before the treaty was signed. She didn't even see it for a few more days, when she finally returned to the Horn of Celestia with her “crew.” One way or another, they all seemed eager to get back. Maybe it was the way they looked—being twice as tall as everypony else made them stand out.

For their benefit, Lyra let Computer make her look like she used to—two legs, two arms, and short mint hair. Besides, the uniforms weren't meant for ponies—they didn't really fit her old self.

"Got a copy of what they signed," Bon Bon said, settling it down onto the table beside them. "I'm sure they'll talk to you about it soon. We're in it." She pushed it over to her. "Unless you already know what's in here."

Lyra shrugged. "I made some suggestions before they started—but that's all. Did you read it?"

Bon Bon made a face. "That's what I'm known for—reading fifty pages of legalese. Nothing I love more."

Lyra took the block of heavy pages, flicking through it with one careful hand. It would take her hours to study it, maybe longer—but maybe she didn't have to. "Computer, can you give me the highlights?"

"View each page, I can perform an analysis," it said. "Yet I can already make some statement with confidence. That this document exists at all betrays an accomplishment seldom equaled by your kind. The Republic rarely indulged in any form of contact with other nations that did not end with those creatures either dead or enslaved. Yet you were not ordered to relinquish this ship. A testament to the skill of your princesses, or the emperor's desperation."

"Everything falls apart," Time Turner said. He spoke quietly, prodding at his food with a fork while Lyra flipped through pages of the treaty. "Once an evil empire, now it's crumbling at the edges. Perhaps time makes them more willing to be friendly. What does the treaty say?"

Lyra finally reached the end. She pushed it back, folding her arms in front of her. "Whatever it is, Equestria will tell us soon. I've got a meeting scheduled in the castle tomorrow morning—then we're all expected at the Royal Exploration Society that afternoon. It must not be too grim."

"Grim..." Computer finally said. "Is not the word I would choose for this document. Mad, perhaps. Insane. Stepped completely beyond the boundary of reason."

"That's not what I know about the princesses," Muffins said. "They're smart. Wise. Older than any pony in Equestria. They know what they're doing."

"They've agreed to... a settlement of griffons on your planet," the computer said. "You will provide housing and resources to members of the fleet whose ships were damaged in the battle, numbering at least a million souls. A million of them, across your planet. Some in their own cities, the injured and sick in Equestria."

We did blow them up, Lyra thought. Across the whole planet, a million creatures was not very many. Yet it would mean many cities receiving thousands of refugees. Some might have more. "Why here?" she asked. "Doesn't he have a whole empire?"

"No, apparently," Computer said. "He's named here as "Emperor Grant Septimus Aurelius, ruling in exile. They've lost their homeworld... not sure about the rest. The treaty almost makes it sound like they were here... hiding from something. That fleet was everything they had left. At least, that's what they told Equestria. Seems absurd on its face—yet we did face only three ships at the homeworld. I shudder to speculate what could cause this, if it is true. But the treaty does not say."

They sat together in silence for a few minutes. No one had much of an appetite anymore, or even touched their food.

"Do we lose anything?" Bon Bon finally asked. "They get to put people here. A million creatures. We help feed and care for them. What's the rest of that document about?"

Computer laughed. "If you speculate the remainder of this document could get more insane, then you are correct. Equestria agrees to... contribute technical expertise and equipment to restore failing infrastructure aboard their ships. In time, to allow various settlements in the asteroid belt and on the surface of your moon. You will allow citizens to emigrate here, and to join the crews of your ships and any colonies you establish elsewhere in the galaxy. In exchange, the griffons will... grant you safe passage through any Sylphgate they control, and grant the independence of your ships. You will agree not to build a greater navy, except in cooperation with the empire against 'external threats.'"

"That doesn't seem so bad," Muffins said. "If ponies want to get on ships and fly around—or go live on Vulcan, we can. We can explore like we wanted."

"With the enemy living on your ships. With their families on your colonies. Barbarian agents on every world. Captain, this treaty does not require Equestria to swear fealty to the emperor. But some of these provisions—no expanding your navy, no colonies without a chance to settle their citizens there—all this guarantees they could turn on you if they wished. They will know your every world, they will have eyes on your ships. You will be separate nations in name only. In time, they'll bring you into subjugation to barbarian authority."

"Or maybe not," Lyra argued. "Maybe the emperor was trying to go the opposite way—get his people out of a failing nation, and into Equestria. Kinda sounds like he thinks we're already an advanced society. Like we're another space empire, instead of one little planet."

"You are," Computer said flatly. "Perhaps dispossessed—but not for long. Look at this room. You will adapt quickly, even if you prefer to retain the modified templates of Equus. Compared to the size of the great empire, your population is small. But much of that information appears out of date. The emperor's ship departs, soon the first wave of refugees will arrive. Vulcan won't like this either."

Lyra leaned to the side, taking her marefriend's soft fingers in hers. "The station will have to adapt. Equestria was never going to go to war if we didn't have to. Nopony else has to get hurt for us to win."

The terms of the treaty weren't exactly easy. Both sides would have to sacrifice. But if they could keep their word, maybe Equestria wouldn't suffer the same fate as their ancestors.

This was their second chance. Now Lyra and her marefriend got to be part of it.

"I hope you'll all stay," she said, when Computer finally finished explaining it all. "On the ship, I mean. I'm sure Equestria will send more ponies. Princess Twilight will probably want to meet Vulcan, maybe with a whole research team. And there's probably all kinds of other dangers out there."

Time Turner looked sideways at Muffins, then grinned. "I wouldn't mind a bit of shore leave here at home. I've penned a lecture series about our adventures I'd like to share at all the important institutions. But after, perhaps... I wouldn't mind another adventure."

"Yeah," Muffins said. "But I want to get Dinky Do. She's been away from us long enough. I hope she still recognizes me..."

"If you go, I go," Bon Bon said. "I don't care how careful you are—you're going to get yourself in trouble again. Somepony will have to be there to get you out. That, and I'm reasonably certain I'm fired."

Lyra gasped. "Why would they do that? You got us back, helped keep Equestria safe... what more could they want?"

She released Lyra's hand, then stood. "We're safe, yes. But in a way, I couldn't protect the world. Equestria as we knew it is over, Heartstrings. Maybe that's not a bad thing... but it's still my fault."

Lyra hurried to her, and leaned in close for a kiss. "They don't know what they're missing," she whispered. "SMILE doesn't deserve you anyway."