//------------------------------// // The Prodigal Daughter: Part 2 // Story: Clone Wars: Equestrian Wars // by Pun System //------------------------------// Starlight levitated Night Glider into a dimly lit room. She magically shoved Night into a cage on the far side and closed it before releasing her from her grip. “Let me go,” Night ordered.   Starlight smirked. “Actually, that’s the plan. You’re going to help us find your friend.”   “I’d never.”   “Give it a few days,” Starlight said as she clasped an amulet around her neck. “Or weeks. Or maybe even months. How long do you want this to take?” she asked with a sly grin.   “What do you want? Name your price.”   “Oh, I’m not in it for the money. I want you.”   “You want me to convert to your little cult of equality?”   Starlight frowned. “I wouldn’t call it a cult.”   “I’m pretty sure some of these who follow you never joined willingly.”   “Some did, but not all of them. But they did join.” Starlight lit her horn, and her eyes began to glow. As she stretched forth her hand, the amulet too began to glow. “Eventually.” A moment later, Night found herself flung against the front of the cage, pinned by the powerful magic. She groaned and convulsed as dark purple energy began to surround her. Starlight clenched her fist and pulled backwards, and Night Glider screamed in pain. A purple, cloudy aura flowed through the bars of the cage towards Starlight, forming a thick, pulsing cloud around her fist. Starlight opened her fist and made a slow, sweeping motion through the air with her hand, collecting the ethereal cloud and channeling it along her arm until it absorbed into the amulet. She then lowered her hand, causing Night Glider to collapse to the ground.   “What—did you—do?” Night asked between heavy, labored breaths. Starlight opened her cage and the weakened pegasus spilled out of it, landing on all fours. Starlight then knelt down beside her. “I’m impressed you’re still conscious. The last two Jedi didn’t make it through the Equalization process awake. One not even alive. To be so close to the Force, then to be set on a different path, it’s too much for some Jedi to bear. Luckily most of my members were never Jedi like you.”   “Stop—calling me that! I’m not—a Jedi!”   Starlight crossed her arms. “You had a lightsaber in your jacket. Was it your friend’s?”   “The lightsaber—was as much a relic—as the Jedi are!”   Starlight smiled. “I knew I was right to recruit you. You’re already on the right path.”   “But this isn’t right!” Night blurted.   Starlight’s countenance shifted as distinctly as if she had removed a veil. She seemed to be expressing genuine pity for Night Glider. “Awww. Poor thing. You’re so confused. I know this is a lot for you to take in all at once. You just need some time to think, don’t you? We’ll start with a small chunk of time—just a few hours.”   Starlight stood and turned to leave. The door opened as she approached it. “Take her to her quarters,” she instructed the guards at the door. The guards rushed in, one human and one earth pony. The pony removed his helmet, revealing his white coat, white mane, and blue eyes.   “Woah, you ok?” he asked. Night didn’t have the energy to respond, much less resist. “Name’s Double Diamond,” he said as he helped her to her feet. “I can’t believe she found another pony! I can’t wait to hang out! Hope your stay in the tank is pretty short.”   Night leaned in towards him, partly to whisper to him and partly out of her own weakness. “What did she do to you?” she whispered.   “Woah,” Diamond said as a look of genuine pity crossed his face. “Don’t worry. It’ll all be ok. Soon, you’ll be just like us.”   “No. I’ll never,” she said through a whimper as she stumbled forward.   The human female on the other side of her twisted her arm. “We’ll see about that,” she said as she fitted Night’s wrists with a pair of binders.     Rainbow tossed and turned all night. Her thoughts remained with her former master, Night Glider. In the darkness with only the hum of the hyperdrive, her memory drifted among their many shared moments and memories.   “Master! I did it! I did it!” Rainbow exclaimed as she held up her lightsaber.   “Well, let’s see it,” said the young adult pegasus as she knelt on one knee next to Rainbow Dash. With the press of a button, Rainbow’s single-bladed blue lightsaber buzzed to life for the first time. An expression of pure joy flashed across Rainbow’s face as she proudly held her new Jedi weapon.   *****   Rainbow’s lightsaber hung from her belt as she and Night Glider prepared to part with her friends in front of the Jedi Enclave on the planet Equus Prime. Rainbow Dash stood opposite Gilda.   “We’ll still be cool, right?” asked Gilda.   “Of course.”   “It’s just—ever since you became a Jedi, I hardly ever saw you anymore. Always stuck inside the walls of that enclave.”   “And now I’ll be halfway across the galaxy…” Rainbow trailed off.   “So—I guess this is goodbye.”   Rainbow threw her arms around Gilda, pinning not only her arms to her sides, but also her wings to her back. “Goodbye, Gilda.”   Gilda grunted. “Rainbow? You’re touching me.”   Night Glider laughed. “It’s the last time she’ll see you for what could be a long time. Make the most of it.”   Gilda blushed with embarrassment as she reluctantly hugged Rainbow back.   *****   Rainbow stood close to Night Glider as the two stood before a funeral pyre. Before them, flames lapped at the lifeless form of Jedi Master Qui Gon Jin. Night Glider hugged Rainbow Dash with a wing, and although Rainbow normally wouldn’t allow such a gesture, it felt comforting in this dark and uncertain time. Just weeks ago, the Sith were extinct. Now, a member of the Jedi Council lay lifeless in front of her. It was as heartrending as it was foreboding.   “Do not fear the Sith, Padawan,” Night comforted. “There is no emotion; there is peace.”   Peace had been the farthest thing from Rainbow’s mind that evening. The Naboo crisis had brought the galaxy dangerously close to war, and with the return of the Sith, peace had never felt more fragile.   *****   Night Glider and Rainbow Dash watched with horror as the holo-screen on their Jedi Shuttle displayed live footage of a Geonosian execution arena. Rainbow's eyes darted among the faces of the Jedi, hoping to see her friends among those few surviving Jedi clustered in the middle of the ring.   “We will not be hostages to be bartered, Dooku!” Master Mace Windu said firmly.   “Then… I’m sorry, old friend,” Dooku sighed.   Rainbow closed her eyes as she fought back tears. “That should have been us. We should have been there!”   “Rainbow, there’s nothing we could have done.”   “What right do we have to sit here in peace while our friends—our brothers and sisters—fight and die!”   “We’re needed here, Padawan. The Trade Federation has a considerable presence in this region of the galaxy. We’ll be needed here on Ryloth if there’s any sort of threa—”   “Yeah, maybe! But we’re definitely needed on Geonosis!”   “We have our orders.” Rainbow stared at the screen a few more seconds before turning it off, unable to watch her friends’ final defeat. A now familiar wing-hug drew her close. This time, Rainbow turned in and hugged Night with both arms.   *****   “Master Gun Di!” Night Glider shouted over the battle on Ryloth’s surface. “We can make it to the hanger if we hurry! Send as many civilians our way as you can!”   “I will break off and draw some of the droids away from you,” Gun Di replied.   “Wait!” offered Rainbow Dash. “Let me come with you,” she said as she drew her newly-upgraded double-bladed lightsaber from her belt.   “No, Rainbow. Come with me,” said Night.   “Stay with your master, Padawan Dash. Captain Keeli’s 303rd and I will delay and draw out the Separatists as long as we can.”   “When will you rendezvous with us at the hanger?” asked Night.   “We—won’t,” he said. Rainbow’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. “I’ll stay planetside with my clone garrison and wage guerrilla warfare once the spaceport falls. There may also be local resistance fighters we can ally ourselves with.”   “But Master Gun Di,” Rainbow began.   “Rainbow, let’s go!” Night ordered. Rainbow bit her lip as she surveyed the Jedi standing before her. He displayed an air of serenity even in the midst of a thrown-together plan and with no hope for escape.   “May the Force be with you,” he said as he ignited his lightsaber before charging out of cover and into the fray. Rainbow sighed before turning to face her master.   “Come on,” Night said. “Let’s find as many civilians as we can on our way to the hanger. Maybe we could find a freighter or something. Anything with more capacity than our Jedi transport.”   “Yes, Master.”   Behind them, Rainbow heard the sounds of battle intensifying along with a chant of “For the Republic!”   *****   Rainbow heard Night enter the cockpit, but she kept her head lowered. “Hey, Rainbow. You ok?” Night asked. She looked over her padawan’s shoulder and read aloud the title of the holo-net article she had been reading. “Ryloth Falls to Separatist Invasion.” Night paused before placing a hand on Rainbow’s shoulder. “We did everything we could.” “But it wasn’t enough,” Rainbow countered. “We sent out warnings to the Republic, and they gave us more troops. Not enough, but at least it was something. We sent word to the Jedi and what did we hear back? Nothing!” “These are hard times for the galaxy, Rainbow,” Night began. “The Council is incompetent!” “Padawan Dash!” Night scolded.   “Well, they are! They couldn’t save our friends at Geonosis, and they almost let the two of us slip through the cracks on Ryloth!”   Night sighed as she began massaging Rainbow’s shoulders. It helped to calm her, but only a little. “That’s the cost of war, I’m afraid,” Night said.   “I’m beginning to think the Council is right. We aren’t warriors. That’s why we’re so bad at keeping our own people alive.” Rainbow took a deep breath. Her tone lowered and her words slowed as she tried to collect herself. “What if it had been us? What if—Night Glider? This might sound crazy, but—but I’m beginning to think we’re better off without the Jedi.” Immediately after she said it, Night’s fingers froze in place on her shoulders, and Rainbow knew she should have kept that last comment to herself.   “Do you really think so, Rainbow?” asked Night Glider.   “Well, I—I don’t know,” she backpedaled. “I mean, sometimes it’s just so—We—”   Night sat down in the seat next to Rainbow and placed her hand under Rainbow’s chin, prompting Rainbow to look up at her face. “Do you think this is right for us?” she asked, placing special emphasis on the final word.   “Y—yeah, I think so.” Night smiled and brushed Rainbow’s hair off to the side, pushing aside her Padawan braid as she did. Once her hand reached the back of Rainbow’s head, Night began scratching behind Rainbow’s ear. When she was younger, Rainbow hadn’t given serious thought to the possibility that she’d fall in love with an older mare, but Night offered the perfect balance of motherly and romantic affection. Sometimes, it was hard to tell the difference. “Well, to be completely honest, my faith in the Council has been shaken, too. I wasn’t sure how I should tell you, or even if I should. What's more, you’re the reason I’ve even stayed with the Order this long.” Rainbow looked at Night, wanting to believe what she had just heard but unsure if she had understood correctly. “Having a Padawan to take care of made me feel like I was giving something back. But if the Jedi are just going to order us into danger needlessly… I don’t want that for you.” “You mean it?”   Night nodded as she put her arm around her Padawan.   Her ex-Padawan.     Rainbow finally gave up trying to sleep, instead resigning herself to get up and start wandering about the ship. The small vessel wouldn’t provide much of a walk, but at least it would be something.   The dormitory carried many mixed memories. The bunk across from hers was empty, as it would be for the foreseeable future. Yet it was on that bed where she had shared her first kiss with her childhood crush and mentor. Rainbow had heard that it was hard for someone to forget their first love. She hoped what she’d heard was true, yet in a way, she hoped it wasn’t. After all, remembering was easy, but moving on was hard. Much like anything else in life, she supposed. Rainbow shook her head and left the room.   In the cargo hold, Rainbow looked over the few boxes, yet she could still almost hear the sound of a several dozen children, half of which were crying in their mothers’ arms. With them, the sound of a dozen Twi’lek men as they comforted their wives, and the wives comforting their children. Refugees, all of them.   Rainbow walked out into a corridor and passed by the ladder that led to the transparisteel dome on the roof, and remembered the sights and sounds of turret-to-fighter combat. She'd racked up quite a few kills on her first flight, her aim aided by the Force, yet even that hadn’t been enough. Almost half the civilian vessels which departed the planet were lost that day, and she could never quite shake the feeling that she was at least somewhat responsible for the lost ships. In the engine room, Rainbow found the hyperdrive to be functioning exactly as it should—not as it had on their first flight. Rainbow could still remember the sound of the engine starting to give out, see herself dropping down from the turret and rushing to the engine room, feel the heat emanating from the engine and the fluid oozing from its interior. Had she not been an expert mechanic, she might have found herself permanently behind the enemy blockade. Or worse.   On her return trip to the front of the ship, Rainbow passed through the ship’s central command room. She approached the command console in the center of the room, bracing her arms on it for support. Several holographic figures stood before her, most of them Twi’leks. Complicating the meeting, only some of the ships’ commanders spoke Basic. One of the holographic Twi’leks in front of her stumbled about as though his ship was shaking. “Damage report!” he shouted over his shoulder before awaiting a response from his pilot. “Oh, that’s not good. Enemy fi—” Without warning, his transmission cut out.   “Neera!” shouted another Twi’lek.   “Rainbow Dash,” Night called over the intercom, “get on the dorsal turret! We’ve got fighters inbound!”   Rainbow sighed and walked away, not towards the turret, but towards the cockpit. T4’s dome rotated as Rainbow approached, and the droid gave off a string of interrogative beeps. “Can’t sleep,” Rainbow replied. T4 replied with a sympathizing “Dwooooo”–the same sound he'd made when Rainbow had entered the cockpit her first time on the ship.   “You did great, kid. We’ve hit hyperspace now, so it’s straight on till—” she paused. “Hey Rainbow, what’s up?” At first, Rainbow didn’t answer, her mind still trying to track fighters that had been left behind, calculating distances and trajectories and telling her where to lead her targets. “I—there were so many of them. I couldn’t shoot them all down. And the other ships—if I hadn’t had to fix the hyperdrive—I know I could have done better.”   Night Glider looked over at her. “Rainbow, don’t beat yourself up over it.”   Rainbow rotated the copilot’s chair and slumped dejectedly into it. “Never thought we’d see the war this close.”   “Yeah,” Night agreed. “All the stories of war can’t possibly do it justice. They all leave out the worst parts.”   “Could I have a turn flying? I need something to do to take my mind off what just happened.”   Night turned towards her with a look of concern on her face. “You sure you’re going to be ok?”   “Yeah. I’ll be fine. You know how I get when I’m flying something.”   Night smiled understandingly. “You do get pretty zoned out sometimes. Here. She’s all yours,” she said as she rose from the pilot’s chair. Rainbow forced herself to get out of the chair she was in only to slump into a second chair, breathing out a heavy sigh as she buried her head in her hands. “Oh, and T4? Don’t forget to make sure Rainbow’s doing ok every once in a while. I’ll be in the back checking on our passengers.”   T4 beeped his understanding as Rainbow settled into her new role as captain. First, she familiarized herself with the layout of the cockpit. There was the hyperdrive throttle, and those switches controlled the stabilizers. Those smaller throttles were for the sub-lightspeed engines. That gauge displayed the shield power. And that one the amount of battery charge left for the weapons systems. The life support panel displayed an unusually high concentration of carbon dioxide in the cargo hold. It wasn’t approaching dangerous levels just yet, but it was probably pretty stuffy back there. This wasn’t a passenger vessel, after all. “T4, divert power from the forward canons to the life support system. Boost the air filtration power,” Rainbow ordered. Suddenly, her role seemed far more mundane. It helped her focus and center herself amidst the chaos she’d left behind above Ryloth. A quick glance at the navicomputer confirmed that they were still on course towards their destination—Coruscant? No, that wasn’t right. They were supposed to be flying towards— No. It was right. Having been jerked back to reality by the discrepancy between the display in front of her and her memories, Rainbow sighed. “How long was I out?” she asked. T4-NK responded with a short phrase of astromech noises. “Guess we’ll hit Coruscant pretty soon then,” she said as she leaned back and put her feet up on the center console.     Two of Starlight’s Equalists dragged Night Glider down a hallway in the office wing of the warehouse. Her wings were held against her body by cords wrapping around her chest, and her hands had been bound with binders in front of her. A third uniformed Equalist opened the door to the room, and the other two threw Night inside. The door shut after her, and a moment later Night heard the electronic lock. Night flopped over onto her side. “Please, just let me go!” she pleaded.   “Oh we will,” said a guard, “once you become one of us.”   “No!” she shouted, punctuating her remark by kicking the door. “And give me something to change into so I don’t have to wear this ridiculous uniform!”   “You’ll learn to like it,” came the reply.   Night sighed and kicked the door, harder this time. She looked up and inspected the lock. It looked like there was no way to unlock it from the inside. Unless she got her Force powers or weapons back, she could be here for a long time.   Night took the opportunity to survey her surroundings. She had no tools to work with in the room; there was a basin of water, a cot, a bucket in the corner (the intended use of which she'd rather not think about), and a broken mirror, but nothing else. Not even a window. The room was lit by a set of sconces on the walls.   Night rolled onto her hands and knees, then rose to her feet. She walked over to the cot and tried to sleep, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Rainbow Dash. If only she were here. In time, she would come back and this whole mess would be over with. She wondered, would Rainbow bring Jedi to help? Or would she ask the Republic? The Republic wouldn’t care about some wayward ex-Jedi being held on some backward world. But the Jedi… they just might. At least she hoped they would.   Maybe, just maybe, the Jedi would forgive her. Night sighed and sat up. She wriggled her hands out from behind her back, under her legs, and into her lap. Then she began reciting words she hadn’t said—much less believed—for several months.   “There is no emotion; there is peace.”   As if the very walls could hear her, a voice replied from several speakers in the room. Empty yourself of your restrictive philosophies. Confused, Night Glider opened one eye. There is neither passion, nor peace, the voice continued.   Night Glider scowled and resumed her meditation. “There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.”   There is neither knowledge, nor strength, the voice droned.   “There is no passion,” Night said, raising her voice as she began to grow frustrated. “There is serenity.”   There is neither serenity, nor power.   “There is no chaos,” she said loudly. “There is harmony!”   There is neither harmony, nor victory.   “There is no death!” she shouted. “There is only the Force!”   As individuals, we are weak; only together can we free ourselves from the Force!   Night growled and buried her face in her hands. The voice paused for a moment before beginning again.   Empty yourself of your restrictive philosophies. “Great. It’s on repeat,” she said aloud as she ran her fingers through her hair. “I hope Rainbow gets here soon.”     Rainbow drew a deep breath as the doors to the Jedi Council room opened and Mace Windu ushered her inside before taking his seat. Here, Rainbow saw the faces of the very individuals she had rebelled against and run from—the Jedi Council. Due to the war, several members were absent, blueshifted holograms of them in their places. One such holograph caught her eye almost immediately. “Ah,” the figure said. “It would appear our prodigal daughter has returned. Welcome back, Rainbow Dash.”   “Grand Master Celestia. It’s—good to see you again.”   “It is good indeed,” seconded Ki Adi Mundi, “to see such a promising young Jedi return to the fold.”   “Depart two Jedi did; but returned only one has,” noted Master Yoda.   “That’s—the reason I came back,” Rainbow said, holding her right wrist with her hand. “It’s my master. No, my friend.”   “You make a deliberate distinction. Is the former Jedi Knight Night Glider no longer your master?” asked Mace Windu.   “It’s… complicated. I don’t know if she’s ready to become a Jedi again.” To be honest, Rainbow wasn’t sure she wanted to become a Jedi again.   “Tell us,” Obi Wan began, “is she a Jedi, or isn't she?” “N—” Rainbow paused, fully aware that her answer might determine whether she would gain the Council's support. With a sigh, she began again. “She's—she’s important to me,” she said in a softer tone.   “It would appear that your old friendships are not forgotten,” said Celestia. “Friendship is magic, and magic binds us ponies to one another more strongly than most other races.”   “Yeah. She’s still a close friend of mine.” Rainbow found agreeing with Celestia to be easier than speaking the truth.   “Yet we must learn to balance our natural affinity for magic against the Jedi teachings regarding forming attachments,” she continued.   “Of course, Master. It’s just—I need the help of the Council. Night is in some real trouble.”   “Do go on,” urged Plo Koon.   “Night and I were performing a cargo run to Nar Shaddaa when we got double-crossed by the dock owners. They sold our cargo to a Force-hunting cult led by a unicorn named Starlight Glimmer. In the process of trying to retrieve our shipment, Night was captured.”   “A unicorn?” asked Celestia. “All the way out on Nar Shaddaa?”   “Certain are you that this cult is hunting Force users?”   “I am, Master Yoda. I don’t know how, but Starlight claimed to have the ability to cut off the Force from her prisoners.” The Council members glanced at one another for a moment in silence, exchanging looks of confusion, shock, and disbelief.   “That ability has not been exhibited for millennia,” Mace Windu stated. “What evidence do you have to support this claim?”   “I—I don’t,” Rainbow said, barely veiling her frustration. “Respectfully, Masters, I feel very strongly about this. I can't leave Night Glider to whatever fate Starlight has planned for her.”   “We cannot be certain,” Ki Adi Mundi began, “that this unicorn has the ability to sever access to the Force in her victims.”   “She seemed to think she did. I stole a set of their armor, including the helmet so I got pretty close to Starlight. Nobody else around questioned her when she reached out her hand towards Night. If she were lying, the other cult members would know best.” A few moments passed in silence as the Council members exchanged glances.   “Charging into hostile territory without a plan and with very limited knowledge of our enemy is going to risk even greater casualties,” Plo Koon warned. Obi Wan Kenobi leaned forward in his seat. "But if what she says is true, something must be done." Mace Windu stroked his chin and nodded slowly. “We must discuss this matter further in private. Rainbow Dash, please wait outside until we summon you.”   “Yes, Masters.”   “Rainbow Dash,” Celestia called. “Would you care to join me in the temple gardens?”   “Sure,” Rainbow replied. It wasn't like she had anything better to do.   “If you will excuse me then, Masters,” Celestia said as she disconnected her hologram.   As Rainbow Dash walked to the door, she was keenly aware of the stares coming from all around her, not all of which were as welcoming as Celestia had been.   Night Glider rolled over again on her cot. All around her, the voice incessantly repeated the same phrases it had when she first arrived. Sleep never came to her. She suspected by now that her water or supply bars had been drugged to keep her awake. Or maybe it was just paranoia setting in. Maybe she was just blaming the Equalists for her insomnia, or perhaps it was the droning speakers. In her current state, it was difficult to tell which answer seemed most plausible.   And yet, no Rainbow Dash. She didn’t know how long it had been. A day or two, perhaps. There was no way to tell time, and even if she could, there was nothing to mark the walls with. Maybe if she asked for something…. Suddenly, the recording cut out. “Good morning, dear Jedi!” Starlight’s voice called over the speaker.   “Is it really morning? I can’t tell. And I’m not a Jedi.”   Starlight ignored her and proceeded with her first question. “So, how about reciting that creed? Go on; I know you must have memorized it by now.”   This time, it was Night Glider who did the ignoring.   “No? Aww, too bad. Maybe tomorrow.” Starlight’s voice cut out and the recording began again.   “Rainbow Dash will be back!” she shouted. “You’re gonna get it then!” Night pounded her shackled fists against the wall, only to be met with the dissatisfaction of being ignored. With a sigh, she lay back down on her cot and tried again to get some sleep.