//------------------------------//
// Of Siths and spice 
// Story: Ponies of the old republic 
// by peak 
//------------------------------//

A large click sounded through the large room as the lights turned on. In the large cage in the end of the room a pile of cloth started moving, revealing itself as a young unicorn dressed in dirty robes. She got up to an upright position on her haunches, rubbing her eyes.

The lights are so sharp… how long has it been here now? At least more than a week…
She shook her head, clearing her mind from the morning headache she’d been used with the last week. On the second day of her captivity, she had learned the hard way that her captors where prepared for anything. A metal sheath covered her horn, filled with runes effectively cutting off any magic she might use. A shock collar, which beyond the usual painful bouts of electricity if she didn’t behave, where also pumping her bloodstream with adrenals and chemicals that made concentration difficult, and focusing enough to use the Force completely impossible. 

Adding two armed droids and a pony guard that always were in the room made any attempts impossible, and she had quickly resigned, instead using her ‘free time’ to meditation and trying to coerce some information out of her jailors. The latter did more often than not reward her with a click on the collar remote, though.

She glanced around the room. Today’s jailor appeared to be an orange stallion with a bored expression. 
“Is there any chance that I’ll be told why you are keeping me here?” She sent the stallion a quizzical look.
The only reply where an annoyed grunt, so she gave up the project. Too many question did usually hurt, so she started on her breakfast, a bowl of oats and some nutri-sticks.

After a few hours of boredom and attempts at meditating, she heard the sound of doors opening.
The droids and the guard walked out of the room.

“Twi~light Spar~kle” a singsong voice carried through the door, as three new faces came into the room. In front where the owner of the voice, what appeared to be a unicorn mare. She was dressed in the garbs common by the sith, a huge robe with way too much stash and ornaments attached. Her face was obscured by a hood, only her horn slightly poking out. She walked in long strides, holding her front hoofs clasped right above her chest.

Right behind her, on her left, walked a diminutive pegasus mare, about mid-teen. Her coat was turquoise, with a darker colored mane, and she was dressed in the garbs of the acolytes hailing from the sith temple. She held a double bladed lightsaber closely to her chest with both her hooves, and looked bashful towards the floor.

On her right stood a huge tan stallion, clad in a makeshift armor and a huge vibroblade strapped across his back, looking rather uncomfortable with the whole situation.

“Now, my dear, We hope you aren’t too displeased with our hospitality? We assure you, you are quite important for our plans… And then you just walked right into our hands? My master where so pleased…”
She did a mocking bow for her, giggling.
“You see, you are one of a kind indeed! And then the jedi got their hand on you… what a shame. But then we got you, and now We are here to fix that.”
The last part came in a tone that made Twilight shudder. 
“w-what do you mean?”
“Why, We am going to make you sith. It might take some time, but We have all the time in the world. No one even knows you are here. We think we need to start by breaking your… spirit…”
Twilight gasped, fear shining in her eyes as she moved backwards toward the other end of the cage.
The sith chuckled again, and turned towards the filly. “Silverlight, would you be kind and make sure Mr. Barbell fulfills his tasks? We can’t afford more ‘mistakes’.” She sneered and shot the stallion a glare through the shadows of the hood.
Silverlight bowed and answered in a meek tone. 
“Yes, Lord Trixie.”

When she walked out of the room, a flashing blue light filled the corner of her eye as manic laughter mixed shortly with a loud scream before the door shut down. 

...

Nar Shadda, the smugglers moon. A hellhole were one generally didn’t last too long, unless one possessed loads of both skills and credits.

“Any idea where ta’ start? Ah recon this gang won’t be too easy find.”
The two jedi walked through the main marked hub near the space station, one of the few places that appeared remotely civilized. 

“The gangs here work on a strange hierarchy. We should try talk to somepony higher up in one of the street gangs first, and work it from there. I’d suggest we try a bar in the lower marked district.”
“Why do Ah get the feelin’ yer been there before?” Applejack smirked at the flustered expression that appeared across her companions face. 
“Well… Nar Shadda is a crossroad for surprisingly much, so my missions did end up here often enough, and the bar in question does have a good crowd.”
“Ah’m sure, sugarcube. Lead the way.”

A short taxi trip later, they stood in front of a huge façade covered in neon lights and imagery of mares in less than flattering positions. The largest of the signs spelled out ‘the Hyperlane’, some of the letters flashing. A long line of ponies stood in front of the entrance, trying to persuade the bouncers to let them in. Along the walls lay those who hadn’t managed it, or those who’d gotten thrown out. 

Rarity leaded the way past the long line, getting the attention of one of the guards. The huge cyan stallion nodded his head at her. “Welcome, Missus Rarity. Please don’t start any brawls this time, will ya?”
She winked in reply and walked through the door.

“They seem ta’ know ya well here?”
Rarity giggled at the look her companion sent her. “Well, they know I can get in here one way or another. Eventually they realized it was much simpler for everyone to just let me in.”

As they made their way to the bar, Applejack starting using her eyes around the large barroom, taking notice of its patrons. Large armored bounty hunters armed to their teeth, tired-looking spice dealers, mares selling themselves, or pretending to do so while emptying the pockets of some drunkard… She shook her head. This was a far cry from Tython
.
Rarity went up to the barkeeper and ordered two ciders. The keeper, a mulberry mare, looked skeptical at the jedi. “I hope the bouncer asked you to refrain from starting any brawls? I am still repairing from last time…”
“No worries, Berry. I believe we are able to solve this with civil means. You wouldn’t happen to have any lieutenants from some of the street gangs here tonight?”
Berry looked around the room with an uncomfortable expression.
“Well, yes, but…  Your best shot if you want something from the upper gangs would be Hidden Blade, but he is violent and short-tempered, not to mention drinking with several other of his underlings. Can you promise me no large brawls?”
Rarity chuckled at the hopeful expression of the bartender. “Last time I was, for starters, all alone. And secondly, I needed to get both me and my target out without anyone noticing. A brawl was the best option. This time is different.”
“I’m gonna regret this. But he is in the private lounge in the back.”

Beyond some uncooperative guards at the door, which a quick mind trick solved, they got into the lounge. Around eight ponies where seated at a huge table, filled with food and beverages. 
“Well, well, well. We seem to have guests… and some filthy jedi at that.”
The owner of the venomous voice, a slim stallion seated at the middle of the table, stared at them through cybernetic eyes.
“Evening, Blade. We would like to talk a little with you.” Rarity smiled cheerful at him.
“I won’t. Show the filth the door.” A large stallion near the end of the table obeyed, and rose from the table.
Applejack went up beside Rarity, and gestured to their opponent. “Sit down.” He quickly obeyed, earning the ire of his boss. Hidden blade slammed his hoof into the table.
“Why is every single one of this useless lot so weak against your tricks, filth?”
“I can’t imagine how a life filled with spice, booze and hedonism is good for the mind.” Applejack deadpanned.
“KILL THEM!” A rustle waved through the table as eight ponies pulled out blasters and vibroknives.
Rarity sighed as the jedi pair took an unarmed combat stance. “At least they are drunk beyond their senses.”

The combat were quick and eventless. Despite the higher number, the gangsters where sloppy and useless against the well-honed and efficient battle style of the jedi, and soon the floor where riddled with unconscious ponies, taken down with precise hoof-strikes.
Not one to giving up, Hidden blade exposed his namesake and charged at them. 
Seconds later he found himself pinned to the wall by an invisible force, as Applejack stood her ground with a hoof pointed at him. Rarity slowly went up to him, smiling innocently. “Ready to talk now?”
A string of profanity answered the question, and Rarity shook her head. “Option two then.”
She placed a hoof on his forehead, and closed her eyes as the horn flared up. The mindreading spell soon revealed what they needed, and she removed her hoof.

“Ah’m impressed.” Applejack sounded amused. “And yer… yer friends cheated at tha’ sabacc, so yer kicked their flanks. Ya never saw us.” Hidden Blade’s eyes became unfocused as the mind trick worked him. “…never saw ya… cheating filth… I won…” He slumped down the wall as the jedi left the room.

When they headed out past the bar, Berry shot them an angry glare, but Rarity just looked innocently at her. “Just ask them, we didn’t start any brawl at all.” Berry facehoofed as they left the building. 

“What did that spell of yers uncover?”
“Honestly not too much, it mainly reveals what the target thinks about at the moment. It usually works wonders when the target knows the answer, but this guy mostly taught me new swearwords and what he would do to us if he got the chance. I did find a new name, though: A spice dealer living somewhere in the slums.”
.”Ya mean this ain’t the slums?”  Rarity facehoofed in reply.

…

‘The slums’ where a fitting description of this quarter, as far Applejack was concerned. As they walked down the streets between tall skyscrapers and storages of miserable condition, they saw piles of junk, homeless ponies drifting about, street urchins shifting for something valuable and spice dealers pushing their goods. And this where in open street view, whatever happened in the secluded alleys was beyond imagination.

“Now, where was he supposed to be?”
“I would imagine somewhere in this area…” Rarity mused as she gestured at one of the urchins, a small filly showing signs of malnutrition. “Hello, sweetie. Have you heard of someone called Lasting Trip?” she smiled at the filly, handling her a haybar. 
The urchin looked disbelieving at the bar for some seconds with sunken eyes behind a blank expression, before she snagged it and ate it in two bites. “I- I can show you.” The voice was barely audible.
She leaded them down some alleyways toward a shed made of a broken container and some sheets of plasteel. She did however appear to be afraid of the place, not daring to get closer than necessary.
“Thanks, dear.” Applejack reached a whole package of oatmeal bars towards the filly, who took them slowly in her hoofs, gratitude shining in her eyes like jewels. She hugged the earth pony and quickly ran off.
Rarity had an expression of sorrow and displeasure. “Places like this remind me why jedi still are needed. Oh well, let’s talk with our little spicer.” 

The inside of the shed where about as clean as the outside, only a makeshift table, some crates and a desk with a chemistry set told that someone used to live here.
“Hello? Anypony here?”
The reply came in some movement behind the table. A unicorn suddenly jolted up into sitting position, and made a sound that maybe was supposed to be a word. 
The pair took a step backwards at the revolting visage. The stallion where largely naked, with a coat and frazzled mane caked with grime far beyond the point where anyone could guess what colors he was supposed to have. 
His eyes was diluted to pinpricks, looking everywhere as his hooves shifted constantly.
He spoke in a manic voice filled with dread. “Whadjawant! Oh, I knowz… ya wantz me dreamz! Evrypony wantz ma dreamz. But it costz… me dreamz are the beztz… no waitz! Yer is jediz… leeaaaveee… yer haven’t zeen anythingz… I iz having a legalz buizznezz.. yeeezzz…”
Applejack spoke up, regaining her composure. “We want information about a gang called ‘the Ursa majors’. Have you heard of them?
“Yeeezz… Diz mare buyz of me… zhe onze claimed zhe waz a big bearz. I didn’t belief herz… zhe waz maaadz. Good cuztomerz tho… but maaaadz.” Any other rambling was interrupted by a coughing fit.

Rarity glanced at her companion. “It is as good a shot as anyone, and the very idea of reading his mind is scaring me… You wouldn’t happen to know where she resides?
The stallion shook his head violently for a few seconds before snapping up, drilling  his black pinpricks into her eyes. “We knowzz… zhe goez to a warehouze in the other endz of the quarterz…  many guardzz… they likez to shoot… bad aimzz… too many andrenalz and zpizes… or not enuffz.. now leeeaavee uzzz.. we neeedz to dream… yeezz…” 

At this, before they could react, he had picked up a large syringe filled with what appeared to be molasses, and plunged the whole needle into his temple. He made a long, weird scream as he slowly fell down face first into the table, where he started snoring, with a contempt smile across his face. The syringe remained, making the whole image appear ridiculous.

The jedi shook their heads and left the shed, hoping this would the last stop before the goal.