The night was soft and cool; the skies clear of any cloud. For once the city lights of Canterlot did not dim the stars above; the Milky Way shone down with unusual brilliance, and the moon waxed full-- and far larger and brighter than it had any business being. Celestia looked up at it and smiled ruefully to herself. Meddling little sister, she thought.

She stepped out into the garden, her ever-present guards trailing behind her, discreetly in the shadows. The note had requested her presence here. It was an interesting choice, a perfect sort of middle ground--- half day-blooming flowers, magically teased into opening under the flickering lamps, all the vivid colors and bright greens of a sunlit meadow, gathered to the very edge of an enormous sunken fountain whose waters sparkled and glimmered in the moonlight. Perfect for negotiation between the sun and the sea.

Then she saw the picnic laid out in the grass between the blooms and the sparkling fountain. A simple repast, bread, cheese, a bottle of the castle's finest wine ...Perhaps something more than mere diplomacy? Could she hope?

He was standing there next to the waters, his own trident-bearing guards in their water bubbles just out of hoof's reach. He was handsome as ever, his seafoam mane rippling in a current only he felt, his scaled sides glittering in the moonlight. "Celestia," he said, smiling carefully. "As beautiful by night as by day."

Her heart fluttered as she stepped out to him. "Kind as always," she said.

"At loss for sufficient words, more like," he said. Then he flushed, retreating carefully behind dignity. "So..." he looked away. "Here we are."

Her brow quirked at his sudden caution. Was there something amiss? She played along. "Yes. Here we are."

They stared at each other for the longest moment. A few dozen subplots from bad romance novels collided in her head. "You... didn't write a note summoning me here, did you," she finally asked, defeated.

He frowned. "No. Didn't you...?"

Celestia blew out a huff of exasperation and stamped her hoof. "LUNA!" she yelled.

A window overlooking the garden opened and a star-maned head stuck out. "What?"

"Don't you 'what' me! You know what you did!!"

"So?" Luna challenged. For a miracle, still not using the Royal Canterlot Voice.

"So this is not appropriate!! I do not need you meddling with--"

"To mine eye, thou needest SOMEONE to lead thee by the hoof!" Luna shot back. "Old Maid!"

"You little moon-addled brat!" Celestia fumed. "How could you--"

Triton watched the squabbling exchange, comprehension... and incredible disappointment.... slowly spreading across his face. "I... I am sorry for my part in this," Triton said, embarrassment filling his voice. "Truly, I had no desire to be part of a ... sisterly prank..." He looked away.

"...Prank?" Celestia said, dismayed.

He turned away, his gaze fixed on the fountain. "I... would not wish to imperil our... diplomatic standing with one another with a misunderstanding like this," he said. "Of course. This sort of scenario is.... silly, could never be. Please believe me when I say you have my highest respect as a ruler and... and... I would never stoop to plying you with false emotions or intentions---"

"Silly scenario? False emotions?" Celestia's heart cracked a little bit more with each word. He truly had no interest in her? He truly only saw her as another ruler, another empty figurehead...?

"I will be going now, I---"

THOOF. without warning a clod of earth and greenery came hurtling down and struck him between the ears. Dirt sprayed everywhere. He staggered in surprise. His guards snapped their tridents upward in the direction of the attack, scanning the sky in confusion.

It took a moment for Celestia to realize that Luna had snatched a plant on her balcony out of its pot and chucked it, earth-clod and all, at the sea king's head. "Thou JOLT HEADED LOON!"  Luna bellowed down in exasperation. "SHE FAVORS THEE!"

He shook his head and swiveled his ears in surprise. Celestia had to choke back a snort of laughter; an enormous begonia planted in the clod sprouted up between his ears. His expression of astonishment and confusion only made it funnier. "T-Truly?" he stammmered, coltishly, his eyes as round as saucers.

Celestia didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so she did both. "Yes!" She managed to gasp out.

His mouth worked silently. "How... how..."

"How what?"

"How long... have I been blind to this?" he gulped, chagrined.

"For centuries! Millennia!" Celestia said, relieved, happy, angry, exasperated. "I threw every hint at you I could, but..."

"But you were always so aloof, so proper..." he said.

"And you wore the mask so well..." Celestia said.

He fell silent. Wordlessly he brushed the clod of earth off his head. "You truly do... favor me?" he said, still as a statue, vulnerable and frightened as a colt.

She nodded. "But..." tears dotted her lashes, her heart on her sleeve, fluttering like a filly's. "Do you...do you favor--"

Her words were halted by a kiss.

Two immortals, both countless centuries old, and their first kiss was as awkward and tremulous as any teenage filly and colt's. She leaned into it anyway, swooning as if it were the champagne of kisses. Sweet and salty, like saltwater taffy... Their lips finally parted. She looked up into his eyes. "Oer a dozen centuries," she said, half gasping, half chuckling, "is a long time to wait for a first kiss..."

"I am most glad we stopped waiting at the same time," Triton said, amused. Laughter bubbled up between them as they nuzzled. "What timing," he muttered. "Come tomorrow and kingdoms on the line, and now this--- But what now? What comes next?"

Thoughts welled up, of their two kingdoms, of the terrible entanglement they were in, of conflicts and complications.... "Whatever may come, we will sort it out in time together," Celestia murmured.

Luna chose to put her two bits in. "Thou hast the bread and the wine," she shouted down at them gleefully, "thou knowest what comes next!! Thou had best behave thyselves---"

She ducked and ran for cover as two unpotted plants zinged past her head.

The proceedings had resumed in the same chamber as before, with a few substantial differences. First, inside the ring formed by the seats of the Council of Stewards was now a new secondary ring of seats, intended for the Assembly of the Western Kingdoms. The press and the nobility of Canterlot had managed to crowd their way in as well. Some few cloud-seats had been made, floating halfway to the ceiling. Both groups were in full attendance, and the high-domed room was packed. Even the Mane Six were in full attendance... perched high above on a cloud of their own.

Secondly, the podium at the center of the room had been removed, and a large, mechanical something, covered with a tarp, had taken its place. The device-- whatever it may have been--  reached halfway to the peak of the dome, and seemed both voluminous and portentous under its concealing drape.

The delegates settled in as the Firebird, now standing at a dais off to the side, called the assembly to order. ""Hear ye, Hear ye. The 1,352nd assembly of the Celestial Council of Stewards-- and the first joint assembly of the Celestial Council of Stewards and the Assembly of the Western Kingdoms-- is now reconvened." The spherical gavel rapped. "Let it be noted that we are here to observe the plea of justification on behalf of the Royal Alicorns of Equestria and the Kingdom of Equestria, presented by Her Highness Princess Twilight Sparkle."

The lights dimmed slightly; Princess Twilight made her way down from the stands to the podium that sat next to the veiled construction. Screens around the upper dome lit up, showing her face in closeup. She was slightly haggard, with lines under her eyes and a mane that seemed just barely groomed-- but she exuded an air of confidence. "To the Council members, I thank you for this time and opportunity to make this presentation. Though I feel that I must make a correction, and state that this is not as much a plea for leniency or justification..." her eyes went steely.  "...as a critical review of the past record and performance of the Council itself."

A stir went up at this. The Firebird banged the gavel for order. "Princess Twilight, you would be well informed to know that pleading that others have committed crimes is never a justification for one's own."

"That remains to be seen," Twilight said tartly. "But I will state that my purpose in this will become clear as I proceed."

The Firebird was silent for a moment. "Very well. Proceed."

"Before we begin, it is necessary to establish for all present precisely how and why the Council of Celestial Stewards began," Twilight said. "Understand, that this knowledge is incredibly ancient, and has been all but forgotten-- save in a few archaic records preserved since time immemorial, to which I have been recently granted access. I have confirmed these findings in Equestria's own most ancient archives, and tested their modeling against known physics and math. they are correct." The lights dimmed, and a chart appeared on the circling screens; an illustration of a solar system-- one inverted from the one known to every entity in the room. Several tiny planets orbited a single, enormous sun.  "To begin at the beginning, our world was not always as it is now," Twilight said. "It was a single world among several, orbiting a star somewhere in the Milky Way." There was some surprised rumbling amongst the kingdoms, and among one or two of the council as well.

The image zoomed in, showing a green and blue world dotted with clouds and orbited by a disproportionately large moon. "At that time, the natural forces-- the tide, the lunar cycle, the seasonal changes--- were all natural functions of the planet, its orbital period, its angle towards the sun, the corresponding orbits of its large natural satellite..." the animated diagram became dotted with mathematical formulae and short explanations. "Requiring no maintenance at all on part of the natives of the planet." This was greeted with another quiet uproar, till the Firebird sounded his gavel again.

"This arrangement was quite satisfactory and continued for innumerable aeons," Twilight said. The image zoomed out till it contained the planet's entire orbit around its sun. "However, at some point the natives... our ancestors... determined that the star our world orbited was destablizing... and would soon explode." The animated star began jettisoning flares, spitting out corona, its illumination flaring and dimming.

"To save themselves, they devised a desperate plan. They engineered a means to leave the solar system.

"Through means still too arcane and advanced for us to even analyze, much less replicate, they used the planet's quintessance on the morphic resonance field--- what we call 'magic'--- to, basically, convert the kinetic energy of the moon's orbit and the planet's rotation into linear propulsion, and sling-shot our world out of its orbit." The lunar-solar orbit began to wobble wildly, like an athlete winding up for a hammer throw, then the planet was slung out into the void, its moon falling backward into the sun. "Their timing was impeccable; they were in the eclipse of one of the gas giants of the system when the sun finally blew." The planet passed into the shadow of one of the larger planets just as the central star blazed up. The screen flared white and then went dark.

"Of course, this was not the end of the problem," Twilight said. "They now had a planet with no sun, which would soon freeze to death." The planetoid reappeared. "not only that, they no longer had the Moon's gravitational pull to turn the tides or stir the atmosphere, the planet's rotational period had been neutralized by the slingshot effect, ending the ocean currents and the jet streams, tectonic movement was fading, and the planet's protective magnetosphere was disappearing as well.

"Of course, they had prepared." Two lights, one golden bright, one luminous blue white, appeared in orbit around the planet. "To provide light and warmth, they had created an artificial sun and moon--- the sun in particular is what they referred to as a "stabilized quantum singularity..." as best as we can understand it, an artifact that fuels itself by tapping directly into the thaumic plane. It pours out raw energy from the underfabric of the universe, creating light and warmth; the moon likewise is such an artifact--- which sheds light and quintessance, the stuff of magic as a byproduct.  At the core of the earth is a similar "engine" which fuels tectonic movement and planetary motion through the void... as well as our greater motion through the depths of space, enabling us to avoid collision with wandering space debris...  They created other thaumaturgic systems for the magnetosphere, for the tides and currents..." highlighted points appeared, outlining each of the systems she described. "For all of the major cycles which had been vital to the planet. Thus with magic and engineering they replaced all the life-sustaining cycles that our world had lost." She paused, dramatically.

"Life support, climate control, propulsion, shielding, navigation..." as she spoke the highlighted points changed color. The holographic planet's image changed too, sprouting a nose cone at the North Pole, rockets at the South, guidance fins, stylish sci-fi force screens... a dull roar rose from the watching crowds. "In brief, they converted our planet into... a star ship."

Absolute bedlam broke out. Even above it all, Rainbow Dash could be heard screaming "FAR FREAKIN' OUT!!" It took nearly fifteen minutes for everything to calm back down-- ten more for news reporters from every paper in Equestria to stop running out to message their home offices. Finally everything calmed down. One of the delegates from the Western Kingdoms finally stood up in the silence. "This is... extraordinary! Insane! Unbelievable! Do you have any proof?"

Twilight hadn't turned a hair. "All our research and findings have been documented and copies are available on request," she said. "And they have been confirmed by the professors of Celestia's Academy, and with the members of the Council of Celestial Stewards."

"Why was this kept secret?"

"That's the thing, it wasn't," Twilight said with a faint smile. "It is just information so old that it slipped from history to legend, from legend to myth, and then even the myths were forgotten. Even the original members of the Council died millennia ago and were replaced. And the new ones were far more interested in keeping the engine running smoothly than in talking about where the train was going." She looked around. "I suspect more than a few didn't even know, or only knew something vague their mentors and predecessors had mentioned."

Another delegate rose. "And... where ARE we going?" she asked somewhat fearfully.

"To judge by the North Star, we are headed towards a cluster of stars just off the end of the Little Dipper," Twilight said, amused. "But at our current speed we won't arrive for at least another two hundred thousand years. Don't worry, you don't need to find your boarding passes just yet." There was some strained laughter at that. "Before you ask, I suspect they were hoping to place our planet in orbit around a younger, more stable star, so the planet's natural processes could resume under their own power again."

"How fast are we going?" came a raspy yell from above.

Twilight grimaced. "Rainbow, that--"

"Come on, how fast??"

Twilight rolled her eyes. "About 92,000 miles per hour, Dash," she said.

"Holy horseapples!!!"

Twilight had to bury her face in her notes as laughter boiled up from the audience.

The Firebird spoke up while she and the crowd composed themselves. "This is enlightening knowledge," the bird sang. "But to bring things back down to earth, pardon the pun, how does this relate to Equestria's appeal?"

"It relates," Twilight said, "Because it shows that punishing Equestria for the mishandling of the sun and moon would be irrelevant to the real problem," Twilight said.

"Explain," the Firebird said.

"Because these sort of calamities are both inherent and inevitable in the system," Twilight said. She shuffled her notes.

"In the preModern times, the ancient pony lands were struck by an unseasonable blizzard, which was in fact an ice age-- brought on by an asynchronicity between the solar cycles, and the navigation provided by Iormungandr, due to what is only described as a factional schism among his aides and servants. The invasion of the Windigoes into pony territory is possibly one of the results.

"In 1222, the rivers in Zebrabwe all ran backwards for a year, due to a mistake on the part of the masters of the currents and tides.

"in 1045, a magnetic field inversion caused massive disruption to thaumaturgy throughout the world, throwing bird migration completely off course worldwide, and plunged many developing cities into darkness. To this day the birds in Equestrian territory have to be guided by Pegasi on their flight paths...." she continued on, listing hurricanes, tornadoes, tidal waves...

Several Custodians were looking extremely embarrassed as she went on. Pele' chortled in amusement. "Seems like she know a few oopsies, don't she?" she taunted her seatmates.

Almost as if on cue, every Council member raised their voices in a single word, "KRAKATOA." Face flaming (literally), the queen of volcanoes grumbled and ducked her head down.

"--- Which was caused not by conflict or malice, but simply by Zeng He and Pele getting their calendars crossed," Twilight finished. "My original intent was to evaluate these incidences, see what sort of penalties had been levied in the past, and appeal for something more appropriate to the circumstances."

A delegate from the Western Kingdoms spoke up again. "That doesn't change the fact that Equestria IS responsible for the hurricanes, the penumbral storms, and the other damages--"

"IS it?" Twilight shot back. "Tell me, sir, how many centuries has your kingdom lived square in the middle of hurricane territory?"

The ruler huffed. "Our kingdom is over eight hundred years old--"

"And in all that time you have had how many hurricanes per YEAR?"

"Well the average is--"

"And again, in all that time, you have never taken measures to protect yourselves from inclement weather?" Twilight thumped her hoof on the podium. "I took careful note, sir; most of the traumatic weather events you have blamed on the Nightmare Nyx event take place in your kingdoms on a regular basis anyway. You build your houses on shifting sand again and again, and are astonished when they fall down like all the ones that preceded them. We will take the blame for our own sins, but do not expect to use them to cover up your own." Some scattered applause actually greeted this. The delegate, red faced, sat down.

"This, again, ignores the fact that no kingdom on this world, no matter how powerful and wealthy, could ever realistically repay such damages in mere bits. And it would not, as I said, solve the real problem.

"Allow me to illustrate." The room darkened again and the screens lit up. A movie began running, of a dozen pony-drawn carriages, one behind the other, rolling in a circle in an open lot, as methodical as ponies on a carousel. "This was an experiment conducted twenty years ago by a group of researchers trying to explain the occurrence of traffic jams in the city of Manehattan. All the carriage ponies here are volunteers, expert taxicab ponies of some ten years experience. They have been instructed to pull their carriages in a circle, staying precisely one pony length behind each other, no more, no less. Now watch what happens as time progresses." The image fast forwarded; the smooth carousel ride had turned into herky-jerky bumper cars, with many stops and starts and gaps closing and opening between ponies. "As you can see, their efforts soon fall into the 'stop and start' traffic you see in most major cities. What this is, is the cumulation of tiny errors by each pony-- stopping a touch to soon, or too late-- till eventually the synchronization of the whole group is thrown off for good." The projection stopped, and the lights rose again.

"This is what is plaguing our world. Despite all the ingenuity that went into the conversion of our world into its current form, the ancient architects had one major oversight. Or perhaps they simply were unable to complete the full design-- noone knows. Either way, none of the systems of our world are synchronized to each other. They are almost all hoof-controlled... with diligence, dedication and solemnity, but still hoof-controlled. And the errors keep accumulating.

"I reviewed several hundred natural catastrophes. Some few were caused by negligence or malice, but the sweeping majority, nearly ninety percent, were caused by runaway error accumulation. Clerical errors, slips of the hoof, a missed decimal point, that rapidly spiraled into a calamity.

"With this in mind, I am proposing a worldwide project. One that will be undertaken  and led by Equestria, both as a means of compensating the nations of the world for the Nightmare Nyx incident, and which will fix this problem once and for all." She stepped back from the podium and took hold of a rope. "I present to you the Cosmic Synchronizer." The tarp fell away, revealing a machine the likes of which no being in the room had ever seen.

It was an orrery, a model of Equestria's rather minimalist solar system, sun, moon and planet, etched out in copper and silver and gleaming brass.... But in incredible mechanized detail. The sun actually blazed with magical flame; the moon glowed with a nimbus of blue-white light. They orbited slowly on extended mechanical arms. The surface of the globe was covered with shifting plates, representing the moving continents. Illusory oceans rolled; arrows remarked the flow, rise and fall of the currents, and illusory clouds guided by undulating lines glided over it. One could look down through the intermeshing parts and see more arcane and mystifying mechanisms clicking and whirring and turning away deep inside. There was a small podium at the base, with a control panel covered with switches and dials. Twilight stepped onto the platform and patted the controls affectionately. "This is, of course, a quarter-scale proof-of-concept model...."

"That thing is a model?" Zeng He burst out.

"You should see her ship in a bottle collection!" came the shout from above.

"Pinkie--!!"

The crowd roared.

Twilight facehoofed and waited for everyone to calm down. "As I was saying, a proof-of-concept." She sighed. "To demonstrate... Celestia, Luna? Would you please come down here?"

The two princesses glided down and alighted next to Twilight. "Of course, Twilight," Celestia said. "What do you want us to do?"

Twilight tapped her forehooves together sheepishly. "Well, with your permission, for just a moment, I'm going to... take over controlling the moon and sun." She tilted her head. "Wow, that sounds WAY more egomaniacal than it did in my head."

The two princesses regarded her with wide eyes. "Well," Luna said. "This should be... interesting." She nodded. "Very well."

"I agree as well," Celestia said. "What do you need us to do?"

"Here, put on these peytrals," Twilight said, holding up two new chest-pieces. They were adorned with images of the sun and moon, like the ones Celestia and Luna wore already, but were somewhat thicker, and with larger amulets. Still looking curious, Celestia and Luna doffed the ones they had and donned the new. "Okay, good. Now the next step is for you to... well, reach out and touch the Sun and Moon. Like you do when you're about to move them..."

Celestia nodded. "We are always in contact with them, but I think we know what you mean." Her horn lit up, and a moment later so did Luna's. Twilight scrutinized the control panel. "Aaaaand we have link! Okay, Princesses, you can rest now. You can take the peytrals off if you like." The two complied, their horns dimming. Twilight grinned at them. "And now... watch this." She turned a dial with her hoof.

On the model, the Sun swung about from late midday to nearly sunset.... and outside it did the same. More than one being cried out in surprise or alarm. Celestia reared back slightly, eyes wide in surprise. "My word!" she exclaimed.

"And now the Moon," Twilight said, fiddling with a few more dials. The moon rose, set, rose again, went from full to quarter and back again.

Luna staggered, her eyes starting to cross. "Zounds, how peculiar!"

"Okay okay, that's enough fooling around--" Twilight pulled a lever, and the sun and moon, inside and out, returned to their respective proper places.

"That was... strange," Celestia said to her student. "And a little frightening."

"Aye," Luna said. "Twas as if someone had hold of my foreleg, and was moving it about," she said.

Twilight nodded. "But do you think you could have broken that grip, if you wanted?"

Luna thought and then nodded. "Oh most certainly."

Twilight nodded. "I figured as much." She addressed the audience. "Think of the Synchronizer as being something between a metronome and a focusing lens," she said. "Once it was attuned to Celestia and Luna's connection with the Sun and Moon, it could steer that connection to the desired result. Only with their voluntary cooperation, however; had they wished they could have overpowered the connection almost instantly. Princess, may I demonstrate?"

"Yes," Celestia said. She sounded a touch perturbed. She seemed to relax a bit once Twilight tried to make the sun set again, and she resisted easily.

"As Celestia's first conflict with Nightmare Moon showed, and my own subsequent calculations confirmed, their bonds with their respective celestial bodies is far too strong to be overwhelmed this way," she said. "Recall that it took Celestia and all six Elements simply to neutralize Nightmare Moon's control and imprison her in the Moon. But, so long as they don't actively resist, the Cosmic Synchronizer will guide the Sun and the Moon in their paths... with clockwork precision."

Celestia sat down with a thump, all dignity gone. "You mean you've actually invented...?"

Twilight giggled and bounced on her hooftips. "An alarm clock that raises the sun. Um, Happy birthday?"

Celestia gaped... and then burst out laughing.

"I appreciate the marvelous concept," Luna said, frowning in confusion at the enormous contraption before her. "But how doth this solve the whole of the problem?"

"Because it's going to be part of a system," Twilight explained. "Each member of the Council will be given one of these Synchronizers, which will be harmonized to their personal affinity--- and to each other."

"Keeping them in tune and in balance with each other," Celestia said, delighted.

"Mein Gott, that is brilliant," someone in the audience proclaimed.

Celestia, still planted on her bum, waved her forehooves at the machine. "How did you do all this in FIVE DAYS...?"

Twilight blushed and dug a hooftip in the floor. "Um, five YEARS, actually, give or take a little," she said. "Remember how I did all the work in the Starswirl the Bearded wing...?"

Celestia shook her head. "I really need to keep you away from that stallion's time spell research," she said.

There was a loud, magically amplified throat clearing. "I make the motion," Triton said, "that the Synchronizer project be started, and deemed payment in full for any penalties incurred by Equestria in the Nightmare Nyx incident."

"Seconded," Zheng He said. A show of hands, hooves, paws and claws was given; the vote was unanimous among the Council.

The Western Kingdoms however weren't so thrilled. There was a lot of grumbling till Twilight cleared her throat. "I do think I should point out that the full-size models, all twenty four of them, will result in massive numbers of regional construction jobs, trades in metals, investments in infrastructure, and their ongoing maintenance will mean thousands of staffing jobs and boosts to industry wherever they are located..." which the Council members would pay out of their own nigh-endless wallets, she thought, but did not add. The vote rapidly tipped over in Equestria's favor.

Cheers and whistles came down from a particular cloud. "Yeah, you go Twi, woohoo! Yay for Equestria! Bravo darling!" This set off a growing wave of applause. Twilight, blushing, basked in the accolades.(1) Ink Spot came down out of the stands and swept her up in a kiss. The whoops and cheers doubled.... save from a certain segment of Equestrian nobles, sitting in the front rows and looking like they'd all bitten down on an old lemon.

It was in the midst of the rising applause that a commotion rose at the entryway. To everypony's astonishment, who should come trooping down the aisle but Prince Blueblood, accompanied by half a dozen guards and what looked like a good score of children of every species and age. He stopped at the front row, staring in fury at his own father. Before he could speak a word, a little piebald colt hopped up on Prince Blueblood's back, climbed up on his head and pointed a tiny accusing hoof at the Duke.

"JOCK SHOOES!"

Prince Blueblood looked up at him. "That's 'J'Accuse,' " he said.

"Oh."

The Firebird banged his gavel yet again. "What is the meaning of this?"

Prince Blueblood swallowed, steeled his nerve and addressed the Princesses, who were still up on the dais with the Synchronizer. "I wish to charge my father, Duke Blueblood, with high treason to the Crown," he said.

The room, once again, exploded. The Canterlot nobles rose to their feet, blustering and shouting. Duke Blueblood was in the fore, his mustached face red and swollen with rage... till he saw Nyx marching forward with a familiar briefcase balanced on her back. He went hollow eyed as a ghost and lunged for the filly-- but the guards blocked his way. As did his son. "Not today, Pater," Prince Blueblood said, steel in his voice, cold steel that his father had never heard before.

"Those are serious charges, Prince Blueblood," Celestia said. She had gotten to her hooves and regained her composure. "What are their nature and what is your proof?"

"Your Highnesses," the prince said. "I can present evidence that the Duke is responsible for several unsavory incidents of late... including the libelous scandal against your children and the children of our guests, and for fomenting strife with our trade partners in the Western Sea--- resulting in this," he waved a hoof around the room. " He swallowed. "I am in part guilty of participating in the former, at the least. But this is the least of it.

"I discovered, due to the intervention of these foals, that my father has been collaborating with a circle of like-minded nobles to have you unseated from the throne-- and to attempt to use ancient magics to try and sever... or overwhelm... your control of the Sun and Moon."

"You stupid little git--" Duke Blueblood seethed.

"I can name the conspirators. Duke Wellwater, Duke Bellweather, Duke North Star, Baron Hash Brown, Duchess Spring Flower..." As he named each, guards moved to block them from leaving their seats. The tumult grew, order was restored by the barest of threads.

"Methinks," Princess Luna said, giving the jittery Prince Blueblood the gimlet eye, "that thou hast the floor..."

"The plan was fairly obvious," Prince Blueblood sighed. "Agitate the Western Kingdoms with a whisper campaign among our trade partners, till the populace blamed Equestria for any and all calamities that arose during the Nightmare Nyx incident. Agitate them enough, and the legendary Council of Celestial Stewards would step in... and the citizens of Equestria would howl for you to be deposed. Whether it was the Council, the Assembly of Kings, or the Equestrian House of Lords brought about your downfall, the result would be the same. The nobles-- their nobles-- would put a unicorn king or queen on the throne to replace you."

"See? I told you," Nyx hissed, pointing at the apoplectic Duke. "Sleazy mustache and everything--!"

"What?" Luna said. "Are thy father and his cronies DAFT? Did they imagine they could strip us of our very bond to the Moon and Sun?"

"They obviously thought they could," Prince Blueblood said. "Or thought they could figure it out. There was that Alicorn trap at the Palace of the Moon, after all... they apparently had something along those lines in mind..."

Twilight shivered and pulled closer to Ink Spot as she realized that was the fate Duke Blueblood had intended for her too. Trapped forever in a magical lock-box... your own magic used to power your prison, and whatever other mad project your jailer dreamed up....

"And what did they imagine would happen to Equestria after they were done?" Celestia asked, her voice tainted with disbelief. "Its alicorn protectors dethroned and stripped of their powers, a thousand angry nations camped at its doorstep, enemies abroad waiting for a sign of weakness..."

Prince Blueblood swallowed again. "They had... a contingency plan," he said. "To maintain Equestria's place as a world superpower. They called it Golden Sunrise.

"...It was a plan to turn the Sun and Moon into a superweapon."

Gasps of shock filled the room. Prince Blueblood pushed Nyx forward; the little filly marched up to her mother and passed over the incriminating case. Twilight opened it and began shuffling through the papers, Ink Spot reading over her shoulder. "Dear Maker..." he said. "Is that what I think it is...?"

Twilight nodded, her face sick with horror.

"What is the nature of this 'superweapon?' " The Firebird said.

Shakily, Twilight lowered the papers. "I can demonstrate," she said. "The Synchronizer has a 'test' mode.... to demonstrate hypothetical situations, run test scenarios...." she flipped a switch. Several lights on the control panel dimmed and the faint hum of power surrounding the device quieted to a whisper. She consulted the paper, entering settings on the Synchronizer to match the arcane formula. "It's based off the old magics the ancient unicorns used to move the Moon and Sun," she said. "But they've been adjusted to enable... a new function."

She pressed the button labeled START.

In slow, fluid motion, the model Sun and Moon changed courses. they approached each other... then looped back and passed each other again, looping about each other in a complex pattern that brought them painfully close. As the onlookers watched, the wreath of flames around the model Sun pulled loose and wound around the Moon like a strand of taffy, swirling back and forth between them--and then spiraling down to the surface of the planet, a pillar of fire. Magical flame splashed on the copper panel of a continent, sizzling. The audience watched, transfixed, as the illusory flame, focused far too fine to remain harmless, singed and blackened a hoof sized spot on the plate.

"I set the target for a random location," Twilight said. She hit RESET and wiped her hooves on her coat as if they were dirty. "But that could be set to any city, or landmark, or ocean...." she shook her head. "It would require a special system of magical edifices-- far more powerful than the Synchronizer--- to brute-force the effect, and use it enough times it would eventually tear the Moon or the Sun to pieces. But yes, it would work." She shuddered violently; Ink Spot pulled her into a hug.

Hundreds of eyes turned to Duke Blueblood and his collaborators. "You maniac," a nearby stallion said, staring at him with unutterable loathing.

Duke Blueblood had gone beyond demented. He glared around him at the eyes, all the accusing eyes... "You fools!" he said, spittle flying from his lips. "Don't you see? We wouldn't even have needed to use it! The sheer power would have been enough to intimidate our enemies! We would have been great again! We would have been an empire again! Without these Princesses ruling over us, subjecting us to their every eccentric whim and insane fit, we would have been able to rule the world! Noone would have dared touch us!"

Pele' was sitting near enough to lean down to him. She bent over till her enormous head was a scant foot from his own. "Oh, rule de worl', eh?" she said. Smoke curled from her sneering lips. "Joo tink mebbe we were all gon' sit on our tails and let you rule?"

"Thou foal," Luna said scornfully. "Didst thou and thy fellow ninnyhammers never perceive that the Council of Stewards was assembled to halt this very thing? Throw us down, take our powers, make this dread weapon, imperil the world by threatening to tear asunder the Moon and Sun, and they would have united to smite thee to dust and ash!"

"There was no glorious future for you, Duke Blueblood," Celestia said. She sounded almost pitying. "No glorious empire, no return to the golden age of unicorn rule which never existed anyway. No, all your ambitions and plans ended this exact same way: looking up and realizing, too late, that there were countless Powers in this world far greater than you."

Duke Blueblood spun around, shaking and spasming, his eyes starting out of his head. He was surrounded, surrounded by mobs of creatures who could tear him asunder, who laughed in scorn at his powers, his ambitions, his connections, who could for all his malevolent ambition and cunning and precious noble blood could smite him down without raising an eyebrow---

His mind folded. He collapsed to the floor, shaking and weeping, sucking on his hoof like a newborn foal.

"Thus endeth the house of Blueblood," his son said dolefully, looking down on him.

There was a bang at the doorway. In came marching two pegasi soldiers, wearing sour expressions and frogmarching a disheveled looking Gryphon between them. A third came behind, carrying a tattered skyboard. "Hey, Grandpop," Killdeer-Adder said, waving at the Emperor of Gryphons. "Hey guys-- so did we save the world?"

The Gryphon Emperor just groaned and facepalmed.

1)Time Turner, who had been hiding under the platform, celebrated by hyperventilating into a paper bag. He was good with clockwork, not so good with crowds.