//------------------------------// // Chapter Thirty-Nine: Retribution // Story: STAR WARS / FiM: Realms of the Heavens // by Tathem_Relag //------------------------------// Location: The Indomitable Local Time: 12:13 Gavrisom shucked the gore-covered gauntlet off his hand and threw it down on Jax’s corpse. He turned to the flight officer standing at attention by his side. “Clean this mess up,” he snapped. The officer, his uniform stained with sweat, gave a sharp salute. “S– Sir!” he croaked out. Gavrisom stormed off to the turbolift. He was getting too soft in his old age, he decided. It was time to show the ponies the Tarkin Doctrine. As distasteful as he found that decrepit, politically-appointed psychopath and his absurd love of superweapons, there was something to be said for the power of fear. An eleventh of his ground forces were dead, one of his capital ships was destroyed and another too badly damaged to leave the atmosphere, and a full half of his TIE fighters were gone. In total, he had four thousand, two hundred twenty-seven dead, two thousand, seventy-two wounded, and three hundred fifty-nine missing in action, presumed dead or captured. Pony casualties were, by sheer quantity, far worse. An exact number was impossible to determine, but his analysts had calculated that the ponies had lost somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty thousand soldiers, either killed or wounded, and about as many civilians. That meant the ponies had lost approximately fifteen of theirs for every one of his. It wasn’t nearly enough. If the casualty ratio remained constant, there would be less than one million pony casualties before his entire force was wiped out. He needed to turn the tide, to put some fear into the populace, to make them learn precisely why the Empire’s rule was unquestioned in all the galaxy. The turbolift opened on the bridge, and he immediately walked to his comm officer. “Sir!” The young man saluted. “Status update from Fillydelphia. The base has been completely overrun. Banok is trying to force his way out of the city with his armor battalion. Estimate half an hour before they break through into the countryside. The rest of Second Assault has been wiped out. Dinn tried to send Third CompForce to assist them, but he only had enough shuttles left after the evacuation of Griffonstone to land one battalion at a time. The first group got slaughtered immediately, and the ponies seized the shuttles. Cortess took the liberty of deploying our TIEs to destroy the shuttles before they could take off.” Gavrisom seethed. He had to adjust his casualty assessment. He had now lost over a ninth of his ground troops. It was absolutely unacceptable. He was certain of what was necessary. It would probably make Dav very happy – rarely a good thing – but action had to be taken to remind the ponies exactly what they were dealing with. “Pull the Dauntless back to Everfree Base. As soon as Banok’s clear of Fillydelphia, have our Vindicators target the city. I want it reduced to a sheet of glass within ten minutes of his escape.” The lieutenant’s eyebrows shot up. “Forgive me, Sir, but… aren’t we not supposed to be eradicating their civilians?” “The Greater Fillydelphia Metropolitan Area has a population of less than six million. They can take the hit.” “Aye, Sir. Oh, Captain Cenik is waiting to speak with you, Sir.” “Put him through.” The very worried face of the commander of Gavrisom’s reconnaissance forces appeared on the vidscreen. “This had better not be more bad news, Captain,” Gavrisom warned. “I’ve already got to explain to the Emperor that I’ve just lost more men in a single week than I lost in an entire year on Rattatak, that we barely managed to smuggle our main local ally off-planet and lost over eighty million allies, and that a top-secret species is about to reveal itself to the galaxy at large. I don’t think I can tolerate anything more.” “Err, not exactly bad, Sir – at least, it’s not confirmed bad yet. Just… unusual and concerning.” “Well? Spit it out!” “Ever since Luna’s death and the destruction of Project: Moonbeam, we’ve detected a vastly increased number of moonquakes. At first, we dismissed them as aftershocks caused by the explosion of Lun Base, but they haven’t subsided. Furthermore, we’ve also picked up a surge in the number of solar flares. Nothing that will cause any disruption to our communications or electronics, but above the average for a typical star its size – which is especially confusing because it previously had abnormally low numbers of flares. Something seems to have disrupted both bodies, and I can’t help but think it might have been Luna’s death.” Gavrisom snorted. “I find it very unlikely that one being’s death, no matter how powerful that being might have been, could disrupt the functioning of an entire star system.” “Of course, Sir. It’s highly improbable. However, we haven’t been able to come up with any other possible explanations. And once you’ve eliminated the impossible, then –” “I know the quote, Captain.” Gavrisom thought for a moment. It seemed absurd, but even Inquisitor Valerious had expressed concern over the potential consequences of the alicorns’ deaths. It wasn’t something that could be dismissed out of hand, at the very least. “Keep an eye on it, and alert me if there are any further changes. And do not release this information to anyone else, do you understand? Morale’s already at a critical low, and I don’t want the men to start thinking the system’s about to fall out from under them.” “Understood, Sir.” Gavrisom cut the transmission and walked to the viewport to watch Celes-III shift beneath him as his ships moved into position. Fillydelphia countryside 12:48 P.M. Twilight pushed herself as fast as she could. A messenger from Celestia that had arrived in Griffonstone yesterday told her that Fillydelphia had been captured by the humans and the battle to retake the city would begin at noon today. She was already unpardonably late, but there was only so much she could rush the process of getting Gilda crowned and working out the formal surrender of the Griffon Kingdom. The city appeared on the horizon, and she felt sick at the sight of it. A thick cloud of smoke hung over it, and large sections of the skyline were simply gone. The cloud glowed with a fierce orange light, almost as if the city was experiencing one of Celestia’s most stunning sunsets. Still, after the destruction of Cloudsdale, she had feared even worse. She came to a stop at the crest of a hill as a convoy of human vehicles burst out of the city and fled at top speed, filling her heart with a surge of hope. The casualties had been horrific, but at both Griffonstone and Fillydelphia, he humans had been thwarted. They had been denied both their only ally and their only conquest. They had brought war to Equestria, but like all those who had tried to enslave ponies before, they were finding the bonds of friendship and unrelenting goodwill that filled Equestria to be insurmountable. For a moment, Twilight dared to believe that this suffering was almost over. But then a chill came over her. She looked up, and she saw beams of energy falling from the sky like torrents of rain. She suddenly remembered that very first day, when the humans had just arrived from the stars. They had claimed to have the power to destroy all of Equestria, and they had demonstrated their ability by burning the Everfree. Faced with a power they couldn’t overcome, they tried to destroy what they couldn’t control. They were doing the same thing again. And this time, Twilight didn’t have her friends by her side. She was helpless to do anything but watch as Fillydelphia melted away in front of her. Deep Space The Sentinel-class landing craft Chanlon dropped out of hyperspace. It was missing its top wing, its aft was charred, and one of its engines was dim. Slowly, it crept through the void. Inside, Shadow Runner was knocked from his hooves by the violence of the reversion to realspace, landing on Silent Stalker’s corpse. With a groan, he got back up. “Sorry, old buddy,” he whispered to the ruined body. Only he and Sweet Talk, safe in the cabin, had survived when the TIE’s fire had scorched the back of the shuttle just as it made the jump to hyperspace. The shuttle was still airtight, but overloaded electrical components had sent shrapnel flying and ignited fires. “What the hay just happened?!” he called back to Sweet. “Looks like the hyperdrive’s destroyed.” “There’s a backup, isn’t there?” “Sure, but it’s wrecked, too, so unless you know how to fix them…” His heart climbed to his throat. “Are you saying we’re gonna die out here?” “Umm… No, I don’t think so… The computer says we’re six months away from… Cerea? ‘The Cerean system is a trinary star system located in Grid Sector I-16. Its only planet, Cerea, is a temperate, undeveloped world orbited by a single moon and inhabited by the humanoid Cerean species. The Cereans are a highly conservative species, choosing to eschew technology to live in harmony with nature. Offworlders are restricted to Outsider Citadels, which are polluted, crime-ridden cesspits. Most Cereans are pacifists, and they pose no threat to the Galactic Empire. Only a small surveillance force is required to ensure that Jedi and terrorists do not use the planet as a base of operations. Some Cereans are willing to actively work with the Imperial Security Bureau in order to ensure that no further Imperial forces are assigned to their world. Cerea holds no resources considered important to the Galactic Empire. The current Cerean population is estimated at approximately four hundred fifty million.’ Not great, but we don’t have any other choice.” “Six months? You think we’ll make it that long?” “Remember what that human told us? This thing holds enough military rations for fifty-four humans for a month. We can’t eat all of it, but it’ll be more than enough. I’ve already set the autopilot to take us there.” Shadow made his way back to the cockpit and slumped into the pilot’s chair. “Great. Six months. So, what do we do in the meantime?” Sweet gave him a sly grin, and he let out a long sigh. “Oh, all right.” Location: Everfree Imperial Garrison Local Time: 14:15 “Nice light show, Sturm. Didn’t think you had it in you.” Gavrisom’s hologram met Aerin’s lopsided grin with a steely glare. “I didn’t give that order for your amusement, Major General Aerin.” Aerin winced at the overly formal means of address from his best friend. “I did so because I thought it necessary. Unlike you, I want to keep this war’s body count to a minimum. If you don’t have any strategic advice beyond ‘kill ’em all,’ then I see no reason for us to talk with each other.” “Hey! Those are my boys dying out there! Your naval forces have lost one thousand, two hundred twelve men. All the other human lives lost are on my conscience. Don’t act like things have been easy for me.” “Human lives. You couldn’t care less about all the millions of aliens who just died.” “No, of course not. Human lives are the only ones that matter.” “I’m never going to convince you of how unhealthy that mindset is, am I?” Lieutenant Hawkins, the head of the base’s ISB contingent, coughed pointedly. “Gentlemen, let’s please not get into an ideological debate here. Now, we all agree that the main problem is their civilian populace, not their military. We can – and do – slaughter them in traditional battles. Our primary objective should be preventing the rise of partisans.” “It’s too late for that,” Aerin snapped. “They’re already partisans. We just have to wipe them out.” “There are other ways than killing to deal with civilian dissent.” “As much as I hate to agree with the General about any aspect of military strategy,” Gavrisom said slowly, “I don’t see any way we can convert them to our cause at this point.” Hawkins shook his head. “I’m not talking about getting supporters. These ponies may be willing to die for their rulers, but how much, do you think, are they willing to subject their loved ones to suffering?” Aerin rubbed his chin. “So… You’re saying, round up the families of suspected resistance fighters, and torture them until the partisans give themselves up? I like it.” “Confirmed resistance fighters,” Gavrisom stated firmly. “We aren’t sadists. More importantly, torturing the families of innocents will just make them hate us more.” “You’re both think too short-term, too small-scale. Think about it. The ponies control every aspect of the growing season on this planet. Pegasi control the weather, and Earth ponies have special connections to the soil that make crops grow better.” “Yes, and?” “Your point?” Gavrisom and Aerin asked at the same time. “Don’t you see? The ponies haven’t had to worry about famine for over a thousand years! Their harvests have always been reliable. Sure, they need to preserve produce for transport to areas those plants don’t grow in, and for the time between harvests, but that’s about it. They have no long-term food reserves. If we destroy their farms and annihilate their control over the weather, they’ll all starve in a year!” “And then we’ll have millions of emaciated pony corpses,” Gavrisom scoffed. “We might as well just melt all their cities. The body count will be the same, but the war will be over in a day instead of a year.” “But if we go the orbital bombardment route, they can at least console themselves that the deaths of their loved ones will be quick and relatively painless. My way, they have to watch their children die slowly. Unless they make a huge murder-suicide pact, of course, but I don’t think even they have the commitment for that. And as they starve, we remind them of the Empire’s resources. We can import food for them if they surrender. Otherwise, they all die.” “And if they still refuse to surrender?” “Then we never had any hope of conquering them at all.” Gavrisom’s lips tightened into a thin line, but he gave a short nod. “Very well. I’ll order our fighters to target the weather patrols and put in a request with Imperial Supply for herbicide bombs.” Malen spoke up. “Chrysalis had agents in Fillydelphia who must have died in the bombardment. I doubt she’ll be happy about that.” Aerin pounded a fist onto the holotable. “Chrysalis can rot in Chaos. Her agents didn’t tell us the ponies had learned how to use shuttlecraft. In fact, they haven’t done anything useful since they helped our stormtroopers escape Canterlot. Let this be a reminder to her that we only need her alive so long as she’s serving our interests. And if she gets uppity, you can always pay her a visit.” Malen grinned cruelly. “Just so.” “This is all well and good,” said Major Regnuff, the second highest ranking officer permanently assigned to the base, “but you’re all ignoring the bantha in the room. How do we deal with the dragons? They pose an actual military threat.” Hawkins chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got a plan for them, too. I’ve been in contact with my handlers, and they’ve authorized me to inform you of a Separatist weapon we’ve recently managed to recreate. A very ironically named weapon. Governor, General, you served during the Clone Wars, so perhaps you’re already aware of Project: Dragon’s Breath…?”