//------------------------------// // [Chapter 7] - Someone Move This Walking Carpet // Story: Dead or Alive // by Rust //------------------------------// Dead or Alive: Chapter 7 by: Rust Mytaranor sector, Kashyyyk system, on the planet Kashyyyk... There is a common conception that a traveler of the Galaxy will not understand the true definition of wilderness until they happen to find themselves in Wookiee country. One would not be wrong in assuming this.          Huge, sprawling forests cover the land, often spreading coast to coast across entire continents.  The native wookiees believe that the forest is all one connected being, rising from underneath the shadow of a singular tree and joined by the roots to cover the planet.  They say that when the woshyr trees could not grow any further out, the began to grow up.  The small, green shoots — able to be cupped within a palm at first sign of life — take root in the mossy , rich loam.  And once they begin to sprout, they do not stop their quest for sunlight.   Thousands of years pass, and the little green shoot is five kilometers tall.  An entire ecosystem exists within its encompassing canopy, creatures live and die there without ever once touching the ground.  Amidst the sun-dappled boughs, life flourishes. Beneath the trees, however, primeval, forgotten things stalk through the eternal shadows.  Fierce, alien cries occasionally disturb the oppressive stillness, swallowed up by the gloom. The Shadowlands.  The Notherworld.  This place goes by many names, but the extreme danger present there is recognized by all.  Here is the coldest, darkest, and farthest from sunlight a life form can hope to get.  Here is where the true nightmares live, slinking around like ribbons of black silk, hunting, watching, waiting for any foolish enough to stumble into their domain.  Here is where fear goes to die, and terror is born from its bones. Beneath the jungle roof of Kashyyyk, something stirred.   Something stretched and clacked its mandibles at an alien scent in the air.   Something salivated, gobs of liquid spattering onto the moss below.   Something vanished into the deeps, hungering, stalking. It screamed in primal rage. The hunt was on. Through the forest it went, crawling across the trees as if defying gravity, before springing the incredible distance between them.  Soon, more of its kind joined it, drawn by the cry and eager to join in the kill.  They numbered many, a pack that together matched the speed and strength of any carnivorous titan. The scent drove them on, a spice in the air that crackled with lightning and kissed like the soft, quiet places of the night.  A trespasser; and it smelled like nothing they’d ever known. Life forms heard them coming as they raced through the undergrowth, hiding and burrowing away into their bolt holes.  They did not care, and left them unmolested, for there was bigger game afoot to sate their hunger.  The frightened creatures trembled in their burrows as the war party passed them.  They knew the awful truth of such a gathering of predators: Blood would be spilt. The hunt was on! From the darkness, out slid a confident, midnight-blue face.  It scrunched up in something like satisfaction as a deep breath passed through its nostrils. “What a wondrous realm this is!” declared a rather nonchalant alicorn.  Princess Luna exhaled, as though savoring the air.  Her eyes shined in the darkness, piercing the veil with ease.  “This place is wild and untamed.  It stirs the blood and makes one feel... alive.”  Her good wing fluttered at her side. "Hmm. Perhaps too alive." She padded softly through the forest, Reaper nudging up against her shoulders from its scabbard of vines.  Every once and awhile she would unsheathe it and flourish the knobbly branch about, the act of learning the unique balances of the weapon being something to take her mind off of the unfamiliar scenery around her. The darkness was near-absolute, broken here and there by strange phosphorescent plants, shining and twinkling all the colors of the rainbow as they clung to the massive trunks or bursting out of the wet ground.  Insects hummed and whined, flashing like brief stars throughout the blackness. Luna’s silver-shod hooves led her to a shallow crag in the ground, where a swift creek ran out from underneath the roots of a nearby tree.  She peered at it, her reflection displaying a look of relaxed curiosity and mild amusement. Even the water seemed different.  She could sense the tiny flecks of life within the liquid, filling it with their essence, turning the brook into a flowing stream of liquid light.  She dipped her head and drank from the glowing waters, slaking the thirst that had built up from travel. For several hours now, Luna had been making her way between the immense trees.  Here and there, some muffled shriek or predatory cry would pierce the air, and the alicorn would pause mid-stride, ears pricked, trying to pierce through luminescent forrest, wondering what sort of creature made that noise.  They sounded unfamiliar and alien... reinforcing the singular fact that she was hopelessly, undeniably lost. Even still, she was confident that her quarry was not far, despite the fact that she could not sense her sister in the slightest.  She was more aware of the absence of her sister’s presence than anything else, for it had been a very, very long time indeed since Celestia’s aura of magical power was not present, a prickle in the back of her sister’s mind.  Even more disturbing was the fact that she could not sense any of the world’s magic... at least, that of the familiar strain of Equestria.  Here, in this dense wood, the magic felt wild and savage, and it filled her with an almost predatory state of being. It was... intoxicating. All the more reason she make contact with somepony, anypony, and soon. Messages — primitive letters, really — had been scrawled out upon large leaves, slabs of bark, anything that would record her words.  She had attempted to send them, to Celestia, to Majordomo, even to young Twilight Sparkle. Each time, the spell had imploded upon itself, consuming her power until she had to sever the connection entirely or risk fatiguing herself.  That had never happened before; the spell had been designed by Celestia herself to send a message to anyone, anywhere in the world, as long as the sender had met the recipient in person. A thought came to her.  A ridiculous thought. Why, ‘tis as if I am upon another world entirely! Luna froze for a moment, her eyes glazing over, then snorted with amusement as she trotted off again.  “Hah!  My jesting knows no bounds...” Arkanis sector, Tatoo system, Tatooine, aboard the Slave I... Boba sat very, very still. Maybe if he pretended he was asleep, she’d go away. He glanced up. Nope.  Still there. The damage to the interior of the ship was minimal.  None of the critical systems had been damaged,  and the only structural issues were the cell door and a light fixture in the hallway, the door suffering being jammed halfway open by debris in its tracks, and the light crushed by the apparent impact of a Sand Person striking it with the force of a small cannonball. He’d seen the ship’s security footage.  Seen what she could do.  She moved like a fish and struck like an eagle, gracefully quick and stunningly powerful.  Those long white limbs held a deceptive strength that should not have been physically possible. She was locked up tighter than a Neimoidian bank vault. So why did he feel so uneasy around her? Boba slumped into the cockpit, vacantly staring across the room.  The Mandolorian armor he wore was filthy with sand and blood.  He bleakly realized he’d been wearing it non-stop since before picking up his prisoner. The smaller droid — what did he go by again? — was busy molesting the Slave I’s control panel with all manner of gadgetry, whirring and beeping to himself.  Apparently he knew what he was doing; life support systems had already been reactivated, allowing the ship’s air conditioning to kick in.  That much of a mercy had been granted. Meanwhile, the taller, gold one was busy holding a rather one-sided conversation with the prisoner in question.  Boba had heard him cycle through several hundred languages by now, in the vain hopes that she might pick up a familiar dialect. Instead, she seemed incredibly preoccupied with staring Boba down from across the room.  The old cell was out of the question, now that the door had malfunctioned.  So instead she sat, still trussed up like the catch of the day... ...Watching him. Boba had never before been so glad of his helmet.  It hid the cold sweat that had begun to form on his brow. As much as C-3PO had been trying, he’d only been able to get one word from her, after playing the universal ‘point at this and say its name’ game.  Boba had to give him credit, when it came to linguistics the droid had the patience of a saint. The golden man had put a finger to his chest. “See-three-pee-oh,” he enunciated, before tapping himself.   “Droid.” Her ears flicked, the only indication she’d heard him. A metal finger gently pressed against her chest.  She glanced down.  The only time in the past hour that she’d broken her concentration.  That finger tapped very softly. She eventually understood. A garbled language was muttered.   Two words. C-3PO told his new Master that the language used was something he’d never encountered before, not at all in the six million he was versed in.  But he could piece together a little, even if it was just from two single utterances.  That was the nature of his programming, after all.  Countless years of experience also assisted his deductions. Her name, he surmised, when roughly translated to Basic, had something to do with the light, or maybe the stars.  The strange designs of a sun upon her rear likely supported this theory. The title of her race had no translation, but he knew it regardless.  Po’nii.   That’s what she was. A po’nii. Boba crossed his arms and scowled beneath the visor. “Stop that,” he told her. Of course she wouldn't understand the words. How could she? But tone of warning was unmistakable. She was smart, he'd grant her that. She blinked, but didn't falter. Again, that expression of mild confusion and wounded pride came to her face. Why? Why indeed?  Because she was going to make him rich.  She was the key to the kingdom of immortality in the pages of history as the greatest bounty hunter who had ever lived. Because she was the greatest challenge he’d ever faced so far, and Boba Fett never, ever backed down from a challenge on his talent. Because she could help him step out of his father’s shadow. Somehow, every one of those arguments seemed shallow in the face of such honest hurt.  The fact that she had saved his life not two hours ago unsettled his stomach to the point of nausea. Boba’s scowl deepened, and he sank into his seat.  He kicked at the astromech droid. “Hurry it up!” Mytaranor sector, Kashyyyk system, on the planet Kashyyyk... Luna poked at a softly glowing mushroom with Reaper’s butt, the fleshy fungi easily several times larger than her. “Aye, this certainly be not the Everfree,” she commented, leaving it behind to crest a small rise.  She beheld the grave of a once-mighty titan of the forest, long since toppled over upon its side.  High above, the space in the canopy it had once dominated had been swallowed up by its younger rivals, eager to edge out the competition.  The rotting megalith, covered in softly-glowing splotches of fungi and vines, dwarfed her to such a ridiculous degree that she began to wonder if this was what ants felt like.  Even upon its side, the top of the trunk was further from the ground than a Canterlot spire.  She paused upon on the hilltop, her eyes twinkling. A change in course was needed, she thought.  Blindly wandering about the forest would serve her no good.  She needed a landmark, or some way to tell direction in the maze of undergrowth.  To do that, she needed to find a way to top of the canopy... Her injured wing gave a painful twinge. ...Without flying.  She would have to get creative. Where the forest titan had fallen, its roots — Luna thought they greatly resembled a city’s sewage system in both size and shapes — had been dragged up into the air, creating a steep slope around the very base of the trunk, one that she thought might serve as a place from which to attempt to scale into the green roof of the forest. Once she got up there — without the use of flight — she could get her bearings, track down Celestia, soundly pummel her kidnapper, and get the both of them home in time for a stout of the finest ale and bawdy ballads around a tavern hearth. She caught herself.  Was the situation really so dire that she had begun missing Canterlot?  The city of angels come to earth, forever caged within their stone-and-iron citadel? Stars forbid... No, she was certainly not in Everfree country.  Nor any forest she had ever encountered before.  This one was far, far more ancient.  But that begged the question; if she was not there, then where?  Luna could not say, but regardless felt that she had left Equestrian borders behind long ago.  She was off the map now — here there be monsters. In the shadows behind her, a twig snapped. Speaking of... she thought, whirling as Reaper flew out of its harness.  Brandishing the weapon, she warily eyed the direction of the disturbance. She suddenly became all too aware of the fact that the ambient noises of birds and bugs had mysteriously died away, replaced only with the sounds of her even breaths and the crunching of leaves and needles beneath her hooves. A deathly stillness had descended.  She fancied she could hear the sound of her own heartbeat, steady and strong. “‘Tis quiet...” Luna was no fool.  A lifespan measuring centuries had granted her the time to harness experience in a great multitude of fields.   She of all ponies knew that when you stare into the abyss... the abyss stares back. “Too quiet.” Something was out there, staring back.  Thinking, plotting... hunting.  A predator had picked up her trail, of this she was certain. Luna allowed a grim smile, a flash of white teeth in the darkness.  For a second, they flickered, flashing as a set of serrated, ivory fangs.  Her coat seemed to darken just a shade, her mane crackled with power, the stars within sparking like embers. “Do you truly think that the shadows grant sanctuary?” she quietly muttered to the forest.  “From me?” No response came.  She hadn’t expected one. A small spark shot out of her horn, hovering inches above.  A heartbeat later, it emitted a deep blue pulse, spreading outwards into the gloom in all directions. She closed her eyes and saw. In her mind’s eye, the scene was revealed to most minute of detail, life shining in bright colors as the spell passed over it. Beyond the edge of her clearing, the world turned red. Despite herself, Luna started backwards a pace.   No single foe waited in the shadows; instead, they were legion.  Dozens upon dozens.  She could feel their forms, clinging to the backs of trees and dangling from long, silken threads, every one of them tensed.  She sensed their hunger, a predatory furnace that burned deep within empty bellies. It would be prudent to leave. Now. Luna turned and bolted. The upturned tree loomed before her.  She ran for it, pounding across the open ground.  She began to curve upward along the trunk, picking her way through the eroding soil.  Here and there massive roots blocked her ascent, made all the more challenging to traverse due to the fact that they were the height of large carriages.  It got to the point where she began leaping from root to root, the ground to sloped for her hooves to purchase.  Muscles far stronger than any normal pony propelled her tirelessly, up, up, up! The small spark of light followed, pulsing slowly as it illuminated the surrounding area, painting a picture within her mind. A tide of crimson had breached the treeline.  They were coming after her. Scuttling figures shimmered, the sound of clanking carapaces and a war cry of frenzied hissing breaking the tension. The hunt was on! Luna put her back into it, propelling herself ever onward like a graceful gazelle, bounding up the vertical face.  Several hundred meters above the forest floor, she reached the summit.  Luna looked down at the dizzying drop below her, where the excavation of the root system had ripped a terrible, jagged wound in the earth — a fel pit — a scar so depressingly vacant of anything that even her eyes could not pierce its secrets.  The world seemed to spin and sway.  She found herself looking deeper, her being pulled by an indescribable force, closer and closer to its stygian depths, until — The spark pulsed again, painting the singular, monstrous blob within the chasm so red it seemed like blood. She tore her eyes from the depth, shuddering. There were some places even the night could not reach.  She extinguished the spark with a thought. The alicorn quickly observed her surroundings.  A ring of mighty trees surrounded the clearing carved by their fallen sire, twisted trunks rising up into the shadows.  One of them, a silver-grey giant, was closer than the others.  Luna judged the distance — even for her, too far to jump.  Tauntingly, a withered branch, puny only in comparison to its brothers, jutted out from the side. Luna glared at the branch, secretly hoping it would spontaneously combust as punishment for such defiance.  It did not.  Huffing, she settled for an alternative method of travel. Reaper flourished at her side, bright blue blade simultaneously igniting in time with a downward slice that began to hew a large, pony-sized section of bark from the fallen tree.  Two more blows fell, and a long, board-shaped slab was ripped away.  Quickly sheathing her weapon, Luna hoisted the chunk in a telekinetic grip.  A bead of sweat formed near her temple.  She brushed it away.  Telekinesis was a simple magic spell, but the power it consumed increased exponentially the larger the items the user wielded.  She was not without her distractions, as it were.  The forest seemed determined to prevent her escape.   Something leapt at her out of the darkness.  She spun away and gave it a mighty thwack with a hind leg.  With a crunch and a squeal, the shape of a massive arachnid spun away towards  the forest floor, into a growing ocean of movement. “A colony...!?” spat Luna.  “Stars above, they hunt me like wolves!” She redoubled her efforts.  The plank drifted into empty air, surrounded by a shimmering azure aura.  A stepping stone to cross the stunning fall.   Luna glanced downwards again, at the deep, dark hole torn in the ground.  Unbidden, a small jolt of unease ran through her. Something monstrous dwelled within.  The gates of Tartarus seemed a more appealing destination. Luna tensed her hindquarters, sized up the jump, and sprang.  Sailing through the air, she landed solidly on the bark, which dipped a fair bit as it took her weight.  She grimaced and rubbed at her stomach.  “Perhaps a temporary ban upon the thieving of mine sister’s sweets is in order,” muttered the alicorn. An enraged screech broke out from the upended tree-trunk.  Luna glanced back — and hit the deck — as a streak of something pale whipped overhead.   Luna hissed at them, slipping into her older tongue in the heat of the moment. “Back, foul pests!  Thine countenance is most admirable, but the consequences of this pursuit doth sentence thee unto a terrible conclusion!” One of them closest to the edge reared backwards, and for the first time, Luna was could see her foe quite clearly. A spider.  A great, hulking spider, larger than the Royal Carriage, covered in a thick and knobby hide the color of shadow, here and there painted by glowing fungus.  Six red eyes, beady and glaring with bioluminescent hate. Fangs the length of her hind legs parted as the creature convulsed and vomited a thick glob of white at her, trailing a tether.  There was no time to react, and it slammed into her side with a squelch, smothering her injured wing.  She was suddenly yanked forward, almost off her floating platform, as the beast began to reel her in. Luna narrowed her eyes.  “Thou hast made thine bed.  Now lie in it.” Reaper whirled forth in a spinning blur, the blade of hot light cutting cleanly through the silken rope, beyond... and sheared the peak right off spur of land sticking into the air.  No less than a dozen of the spiders dropped into empty space amidst a shower of collapsing earth and roots. Eager to use the time she’d bought, Luna twisted her board about, accelerating towards the tree across the death-defying span.  More globs of silk whipped past.  Her hooves flung outwards, ready to absorb the impact of her — CR-R-R-AACK! She’d been hit.  The slab shattered in half.  She plummeted, but did not relinquish her magical grip.  Her right hoof caught an edge — snagged — and held fast, jerking her violently into place.  The other, forgotten section of bark spiraled away.  She dangled, helplessly watching as it sailed off out of her reach and fell into the deep, impenetrable abyss.  The falling peice vanished, swallowed up into a darkness so complete it seemed almost a physical presence.  There was no wet rattle, no soggy smack of impact.  It was as if the renegade debris had simply fallen into infinity.   The swarm of insects surged below, chattering greedily as their prey dangled far above. Luna held her breath, paralyzed by the sensation of her heart suddenly rushing into the back of her throat.  She wondered just how deep that hole was.  Swallowing a lump of unease, she hauled herself upright onto the floating plank, quickly scrambling into action as the rotten bark began to crumble beneath her hooves. She desperately pushed for the safety of the branch, sensing immediately she’d little time before her ride disintegrated completely.  The alicorn undershot her mark, and she leapt an instant before her purchase vanished, front hooves wrapping around the rough bark of the branch as her chest slammed rather painfully into the wood. Her grip slipped an inch.  She jerked backwards.  On pure instinct, her shoulders twitched, a primal drive screaming at her muscles to fly, and a horrible clicking noise filled the air as the broken left wing strained and failed against the vines binding it to her side.  Its partner successfully deployed, the sudden drag wrenching her violently off the branch and into open sky.  The black pit spread out beneath her. And then, it moved. Something huge surged upwards, breaking out of the stygian pit like an icebreaker smashing through a frozen ocean.  Limbs the girth of castle towers splayed outwards, fangs capable of shattering solid rock glinted, droplets of venom coating the tips.  A putrid tide of air wafted through her nostrils, exhaled from heaving lungs. Luna stared, wide-eyed, her mouth taking the shape of a small “O.” There was no sound. There was no time. With a speed belying its enormity, the monstrosity rose to meet her, surrounding her with nothing but chitin and flesh and hair, pulling her down, down, down into the darkness. The swarm screeched in victory, rushing forward after their titan as a single, mindless entity. Mytaranor sector, Kashyyyk system, geosynchronous orbit above the planet Kashyyyk, aboard the Star Destroyer Devastator... The tall, broad-shouldered figure remained motionless from where he stood at the observation deck, hands clasped calmly behind his back.  The pitch-black armor he wore held an icy sheen, occasionally reflecting the various lights coming in from the window before him. A middle-aged officer standing beside him shivered. “Do not look away, Admiral.”  The rasped command came from twixt the wheezing breaths.  “They knew very well the repercussions of such disobedience.” “I-I know, m’lord.  There is no doubt... but surely...” the admiral trailed off, unsettled by the sight before him.  He licked his dry lips.  “Surely they have suffered enough.  Even for savages, this is... extreme.” Through the window, the nighttime side of Kashyyyk was visible, speckled here and there with hot cherry-red dots.  This was due to the fact that a quarter of a continent had been reduced to ash. When Vader had ordered his customary strength of bombardment down from orbit, by Empirical standards, that really meant; leave any alive and you'll be next under the crosshairs. The normally ferocious firepower the fleet commanded had taken a zealous, almost frantic edge. “The killing of so many,” he reasoned.  “The Empire needs these Wookiees as slaves, not corpses." The admiral swallowed an uncomfortable lump in his throat.  He turned to the Dark Lord.  “S-sir, we’ve been at this for almost a twenty-four hours.  Every ship in the fleet is running the risk of damaging their turbolasers — ACK!” Something powerful clenched about his neck, and he was wrenched a foot off the deck, and forcibly twisted until his face pressed against the cold window. “You looked away, Admiral.” “M’lord-d!  Ghaack...!”  He was choking, something squeezed around his neck.  All he could see was the ruins of a blasted land, filling up his vision, his head, his soul... “This is what happens to those who do displease me,” said Lord Vader.  “I read the reports of the mercy you showed them on your last excursion here.  The Empire has no use for soft officers.  You will watch this world burn until I return from the ship.  If you move so much as an inch from this spot, I will behead you where you stand.” Suddenly the Admiral was on the deck, looking up, gasping as he grabbed at his throat, sweet sweet air rushing into his lungs.  “Yes, m’lord. Ah!  As... as you say.  If... I might inquire, what — ghah! — requires your attention on the planet?  We’ve... wiped the rebels out by now.” “I sense disturbance in the Force.  Something down there sings strongly with it.  I intend to find out what.” Lord Vader swept from the observation  window, stalking back over the raised catwalk that went the length of the Devastator’s control room. “The Force?” the Admiral weakly called after him.  “A Jedi, then?” “No.”  It seemed, in that instant, the black helmet warped just  a bit, into an expression of the true face of malevolence. “This is no Jedi...” On the planet Kashyyyk... The smell of death permeated everything, thick and cloying in her nose.   Deep, deep below the earth, she lay in a huddle, thick tendons of goo immobilizing her, pinning her upside down to the cave’s ceiling.  Half her face was pressed against this as a single teal eye took it all it. The cave was crawling with spiders, covering almost any available surface.  Here, in the absolute darkness, she could see faint glows of bioluminescence flicker in their abdomens.  Phosphorescent fungus illuminated what the arachnids could not, tinting the air a sickly blue-green. A struggling to her left alerted her to the fact that she was not alone. A similar cocoon of silk was plastered to the ceiling beside her, panicked growls and yelps issuing forth.  It thrashed wildly, and Luna saw a face rip itself out of the prison, sucking greedily at the — technically — fresh air.  It was smushed and thick, but far furrier than a diamond dog, small fangs jutting out from a powerful jaw.   It saw her staring at it.  A questioning noise emanated from its mouth, something between a growl and a yodel.  Clearly, some poor soul taken captive by these predatory fiends.  She could not abide that.  As a Princess, she was duty bound to deliver her subjects from harm, even if they looked like a living carpet. The words it spoke, though — she did not understand it.  She was not versed in all the languages of her realm.  Fortunately, that would not be an issue. Her horn flickered to life with a feeble glow.  The thing saw it and cooed. She greeted it in the universal language of thought, projecting her intentions through a magical mind-meld. A soft query of concern, nothing more than a tickle in the back of the head.  It’s consciousness felt not unlike the forest; wild and free, but tempered with a sense of wisdom and rationality; a noble savage. It immediately stopped struggling, an expression of surprise crossing its face. Luna was bombarded with a thousand emotions at once, the most prominent being confusion and fear. She swaddled it in her reassurance, projecting the sensation of safety. Her reassurance was clearly understood, even if the spell muddled the translation.  It understood her intentions, at least. She was here to help, and would drag this unfortunate soul back to the light, as such was her sacred duty. But how? It seemed she would need the help of an old companion of hers. Princess Luna, like all true Princesses, was an alicorn — a fitting leader of a diverse and specialized species.   The blood of the three pony tribes roared through her veins, granting her the strengths and weaknesses of each race. Earth, sky, and stars mingled in the body of a single pony.  But Luna knew there was something else, something twisted and pathetic that had long ago sank its teeth into her and never let go. Even now, it screamed to her, begged with her to let it free.  Unleash the beast within.  Giving in would be so easy, all over in a second!  Embrace the pain and the fear, let them consume and feed...  Surely she would — No. Even now, even here.  In the den of a demon, she held on tenaciously. Never again will you master me.  The tables have turned, now I hold the chains.  You are nothing more than a tool, an ends to a mean. An image flashed through her mind. ...Welcoming ivory wings, so soft, so warm, the truest comfort after so long in exile... Another.  It came faster than the last one.  Luna gritted her teeth, feeling herself begin to unravel at the seams.  It was fighting her back, harder and sharper than ever.   ...Celestia sitting next to her at the long table, laughing at the dab of cake frosting adorning her nose... Wicked, evil things skittered in the darkness, hissing and bubbling at their catch. ...Shrieking in glee, romping together through the castle gardens.  She was little, her mother’s shoulders were the tallest perch in the world, Celestia its greatest hero... Luna felt her body convulse.  On Canterlot, her unexpected desperation had granted her the strength to overpower it, to catch it off guard. ...Ancient summer days and cold winter nights, and through it all, she was there, always there... Celestia had always been there for her, even through their quarrels. Luna could not let her sister down.  Some still-rational part of her mind realized that this fear came not from falling, from failing in her quest, but from the possibility that she would lose Celestia. A massive shape loomed over her tightly-wound body.  A splash of something acidic splattered into the ground near her.  She could hear it hissing as it melted through the earth. A panicked yodel of distress sounded from the creature, as it struggled furiously.  The spiders suddenly sprang at it, one of them sinking its fangs in deep.  It bellowed in agony.  The others worked feverishly, ripping it off the ceiling and dangling it above the waiting monstrosity. ...Atop the mountain, their city gleaming below, watching the sunset together as they once did so many years ago... Luna was afraid.  Not for herself, but for her sister.  That she would never see her again.  Never feel those soft wings caress her tight, hear the melodic bell-toll laughter, see that half-hidden smirk or mischievous waggle of an eyebrow....  Never. She was afraid that she would fail. Luna convulsed again.  Her gritted teeth seemed to take a jagged edge, the pupils of her eyes pulsing as they twitched and began to change shape. It was there worming its way through her mind, seeking a weakness.  If she would just let go, then she would certainly see Celestia again.  Give in, and let the storm bloom to unstoppable might. No.  No.  NO. Luna had given in once.  Never again.  She cracked her mental whip and shoved with her mind, crushing it into its prison deep inside. ...Fear gave way to pain, the pain her body caused as it betrayed her... ...Pain fell to anger — how could she be so useless...!? ...Anger swelled into white hot rage, rage she squeezed and compressed, guiding it as it surged upwards and outwards as cold tide of power... A hiss.  One single light in the darkness.   Reaper blazed brightly, crackles of lighting shooting up and down its blade. She moved like never before.   The feeling of a shaggy, mossy coat around her shoulders.  A primal roar of rage and disbelief from below.  An answering scream from the masses.  She could feel the air change the second the pit’s walls rushed past.  A deathly chill, the aura of a tomb.  It would not be theirs. The forest seemed to hold its breath. Within the mighty gash, an explosion of black rippled through its depths.  A fallen angel rose from the chaos, wielding a blazing scythe of light. The dark streak rocketed skywards, a comet blacker than sin.  Nightmare Moon gritted her serrated teeth, her entire ebony body surrounded in a telekinetic grip, the shaggy creature feebly hanging on around her neck.  She cannoned high into the air, just past the withered branch as her magic finally sputtered. Reaper lashed out, the haft held in a death grip by the black alicorn’s rough teeth, the blade sinking into the tough bark.  It held, smoking.  Her momentum swung them up and around the branch, and she landed lightly on its length. Nightmare Moon planted her scythe and calmly gazed down at the carnage. A rumble shook the tree as her foe dragged itself back out of the hole, one fang and an entire leg missing, nothing more than jagged, cauterized stumps, still glowing a hot red.  Its children followed, pouring out from behind like champagne spurting from an uncorked bottle. The wounded monster let loose an unearthly howl, rushing her tree.  It speared the bark with barbed legs, and heaved itself onto the vertical surface, its immense bulk defying gravity.  Skittering around and over it came the smaller minions, bolting upwards after her.  They soon covered the entire trunk in a seething, heaving horde, rising ever higher in pursuit. On her back, the furry creature gave a pained moan, its body wracked with shivers.   Poison.  She would have to move fast. Nightmare Moon hissed with exasperation.  “The things I do for love.”  The long, midnight horn was lowered, spiraling ridges suddenly illuminating with cold light, little snaps of electricity dancing up and down.  Through a clenched jaw, she growled with the effort of guiding her rampant power.   The dark alicorn triggered the spell.  A tiny tongue of blue flame winked to life at the tip of her horn, eager and hungry to grow. She obliged it.  Not a drop in the ocean of rage was held back. An almighty pillar of fire spewed forth from the point just above her horn, a hurricane of azure flames so powerful she was nearly pushed off her branch from the recoil.  The magical flamethrower swallowed up the first of the encroaching waves, vaporizing them instantly. The spiders kept coming, throwing themselves at the gout heedlessly.  They dropped off in scores, keening as they finally succumbed to her might and plummeting to the forest below.   And still, they kept coming.  Sheer numbers began to press back at her.  Their titan reached the front of the pack, now covered in the scorched carapaces of its brethren, which acted like armor plating against the flames.  It bulldozed through her curtain of fire like a thing possessed, its legs punching huge footholds into the bark. She abruptly changed tactics.  The river of flame suddenly rushed backwards, collecting into a single shining ball of light.  Nightmare Moon screamed with the effort, exhausting all of her reserves in a last-ditch attempt. The alicorn arched her back, and with monumental willpower, released the entirety of the spell at once. For first time in centuries, the darkness beneath the trees was beaten back as the world flashed white. A single, monstrous bolt of lightning lanced downwards at the beast, hammering into its face with such almighty force that it pushed the entire arachnid down the trunk, its legs carving huge tracks into the bark. The thunderclap followed a split second later, a concussive shockwave that shook the forest to its roots, as debris began to rain down from the distant canopy and nearby dead limbs were blown from their anchorage.  Spiders were blown in every direction, falling through the air like leaves in an autumn wind. Nightmare Moon slumped, leaning heavily against the side of her tree, breathing hard.  Across her back, she could feel the creature’s convulsions intensify.   Smoke filled the realm below.  She allowed herself a grin — it’d been a while since she’d been able to bring her full power to bear.  It felt painfully satisfying, like stretching an underused muscle. That smile vanished in an instant. “I-impossible...” A ragged mess of a face rose up out of the smoke and mist, followed swiftly by scorched limbs and soot-stained carapace.   The beast yet lived! Nightmare Moon crouched, feeling ragged and hollow, allowing the furry thing to slide off her back and onto the wide branch.  She shakily slid into an offensive stance, Reaper igniting once more at her side.   "So be it." She would not make it easy for them. From above, a long, warbling roar of defiance.  Nightmare Moon whipped around and beheld, though she did not quite understand. A sudden streak of red zipped by her from behind, slamming into one of the monster’s remaining eyes, cratering it and throwing a splash of gore into the air. They were everywhere, on branches, clinging to the trunks, standing tall and proud on wide, wooden platforms quickly lowering from the canopy, one of which halted a meter from her branch.  They bristled with spears, knives, and strange crossbows, one of which was pointed directly between Nightmare Moon’s eyes. The creature’s kin had arrived. The one aiming the crossbow at her was almost as tall as she was;  huge, hairy, — undeniably male — with knotted dreadlocks and a leathery harness, it emitted another savage war-cry.  There was no doubt he was the leader of the band. His companions stormed down into the carnage, roaring and yodeling loud enough to wake the dead.  Firing red bolts from their bows and goring with their spears, their impressive strength quickly turned the spiders into full rout, pushing them back into their hole.  The titan was last to flee, screaming a single, pain-filled bellow as it retreated under the onslaught. Nightmare Moon watched the leader carefully.  His beady eyes were locked onto the Reaper’s shining blade, with something like a mix of wonder and fear.  She stomped the butt into the branch, deactivating it. His attention immediately shifted to back to her, and his stance — and aim — significantly tightened up.   A plaintive warble came from her side.  She looked to see the one she had rescued, gesturing to her with fading strength.  Nightmare Moon gently picked it up in a telekinetic aura, laying it down on the platform the leader stood upon. He held a hushed conversation with the wounded one, before glaring at her and gesturing, curling his hand upwards at her.  The intent was clear. Nightmare Moon hesitated, then sprang off the branch, landing delicately on the wooden platform suspended above the forest floor by cables of vines.  She could smell the scent of moss and musk on the creature, not an entirely unpleasant sensation. The leader stomped once, twice, thrice upon the platform, and it suddenly jerked into motion, slowly ascending into the canopy above. Nightmare Moon sighed to herself, leaning heavily against Reaper’s haft and sitting down on the rough wooden planks to watch the forest go past. She felt exhausted, more drained than she had been in centuries. The titanic effort put into her magic was finally catching up to her, forcing her eyes to lower and the half-welcomed caress of slumber to blossom from her breast. Hold on, Celestia. Your sister is coming... The last thing she saw was a warm, bright light.