//------------------------------// // New Friends // Story: Star Crossed Ponies // by MillenniumFalsehood //------------------------------// Chapter 21 “Perhaps the most talented flier I know is Rainbow Dash. Since the first moment I met her, she has continued to impress me with her flying abilities, though I try not to remind her of this fact any more than necessary, lest her ego inflate to the point that it explodes. Still, the Rebel Alliance was lucky that we joined, because I can't think of a pony more qualified than her to handle their fighter craft.” -Twilight Sparkle, On Extra-Galactic Voyages, p. 255 All worries seemed to melt away as Rarity soaked in the massive, steamy pool onboard the Calamari warship. She had counted her chances of actually getting the hot bath she desperately craved as being next to nil, but the commanders on the ship informed her that the physiological requirements of the Mon Calamari demanded a pool of water to soak in, or else they would be driven insane with homesickness. It was no concern of hers whether the creatures who crewed these ships needed this pool or not. The fact remained that she hadn’t had a good soaking for over a month, and she was going to capitalize on the opportunity. They even had a thermostat that allowed the temperature in the pool to be turned up to a level resembling that of the hot tub at the spa she frequented at home. As she allowed the hot liquid to soak through every pore of her body, she noticed someone walking into the room. “Hello, Rarity,” greeted Fluttershy as she laid a towel on the ceramic tile surrounding the pool. “Why hello, Fluttershy!” she returned. “I take it you came to enjoy this luxurious bath, too?” “Yes,” said the yellow pegasus. “Well, it’s more than that. You see . . . we used to go to the spa every Wednesday, and even though we don’t have Lotus and Aloe here to pamper us, I figured we could at least take a hot bath together so we can feel a little more at home.” “Oh my . . .” A tear formed in Rarity's eye. “Oh! Um, is it something I said, Rarity? I can come back if I’m bothering you.” The demure little pony started backing away. “No, no, no!” Rarity quickly said before Fluttershy got out the door. “I was just so happy that you remembered.” “Of course, Rarity,” replied her friend with a slight smile. “What are friends for?” Rarity returned her grin, smiling as Fluttershy walked down the gentle slope leading into the pool and joined her. ----- The rounded door to the Admiral’s quarters hissed shut behind Ackbar as he crossed the room toward the desk at the opposite end. Junas was sitting in the chair in front of the desk, wiping the latest drops of condensation from his forehead and wishing that Mon Cals didn’t need such a humid atmosphere in order to be comfortable. The Mon Calamari admiral walked around the curved, stark white desk that blended in with the bright white color of the walls, then sat down in the conformal chair and crossed his flippers. “So, Captain Turner . . .” he said, his eyestalks pointing directly at Junas. “What can you tell me about the Death Star?” “Sir, I was sent by the Alliance Dreadnaught Grendel to scout systems in the Moddell sector for the construction site for the new battle station. I happened upon the skeleton of the Death Star about a month and one week ago, and I assume that the station is further along in its construction by now. The site is in orbit above the sanctuary moon of the gas giant in the Endor system.” Ackbar nodded as Junas finished speaking, then leaned in. “And you’re sure that this is the new Death Star? There are still explorers and astrographers in that sector who construct large space stations which are designed to chart new systems.” “Sir,” replied Junas, “it’s hard to mistake that dimpled sphere.” The Mon Calamari nodded. “I see. I’m sure I do not have to tell you that this is a disturbing development. Elements of Rogue Squadron, led by Luke Skywalker, have captured a computer core which our scientists are working on decoding. If information provided to us by the Bothans proves to be correct, it should contain complete technical readouts to the battle station. However, I fear that this one will not be as easy to defeat as the first Death Star.” He stood up and began slowly circling the room. “The first of those dreadful stations was destroyed by a lucky shot from Commander Skywalker through a secondary exhaust port, and the fighters that accompanied him were able to survive for a surprising amount of time simply because the turbolasers were not accurate enough and Tarkin ordered the massive fighter compliment of the station to stand down. Only Vader’s personal squadron was able to launch from the station to defend it.” He stopped and looked pensively into space. “These oversights are not likely to carry over to the second of these monstrosities. They will likely have fixed the exhaust port problem, as well as the turbolasers, and since there is no Tarkin aboard the station this time, they likely will launch everything they have at us.” The admiral stopped talking for a moment in order to allow that to sink in. After a moment, Junas spoke. “I sure hope they’re as dumb as Alliance propaganda says they are.” Ackbar grimly nodded in agreement. “As do I.” ----- Fresh caf poured from a polished metal spout set into an alcove into the wall. The steaming brown liquid splashed into a white ceramic cup which Rarity levitated to her lips, sipping it with a relish that she thought she would never experience again. “Oh my,” she intoned happily. “This is simply divine. I mean, it’s not quite like the coffee I can get from Sugarcube Corner, but it’ll do.” Twilight, who was sitting on a plush mattress at the end of the room, giggled at her friend. “I’m glad you can enjoy yourself here, Rarity.” “Thank you, Twilight” said the white unicorn pleasantly as she levitated the teacup and saucer alongside her while she walked toward her bunk on the opposite side of the cabin. Being half the size of a full-grown humanoid, the ponies found that the beds were luxuriously large and comfortable, and Rarity allowed all the anxiety generated by the last several weeks to drain away as she reclined on the bunk with her caf. She had just started to take another sip when an alarm sounded, causing her to spew it from her mouth in shock. Unfortunately Twilight had been in just the right position to catch it with her face. Rarity gasped, raising a hoof to her mouth. “Twilight, I’m so sorry!” “No, no,” reassured Twilight as the bitter liquid dripped from her mane onto the pristine white bedsheets, an annoyed tone slipping into her voice. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a little coffee.” Trying to change the subject, Rarity said, “Um, let’s go to the bridge and see if we can find out what caused that awful racket, shall we?” Her cheerful tone, which was meant to draw a smile from her purple friend, didn’t seem to have the effect she had intended. She giggled nervously, then trotted out of the room and down the corridor. Sighing, Twilight magically cleaned her mane, then trotted off after her. ----- The two ponies arrived on the bridge just in time to see a Cloakshape fighter explode in front of the window, raining shrapnel and plasma against the transparisteel. Laser blasts flashed outside the ship as Twilight and Rarity joined their friends on the bridge. "What's going on?" asked Twilight. Junas leaned his head toward the ponies, never taking his eyes off the battle. "The Rneeki Pirates have decided to pay us a visit and give us this lovely little welcome party." "A party?!" exclaimed Pinkie Pie with extreme irritation. "Why wasn't I invited?" The ponies ignored her as they watched starfighters and even a few light freighters bob and weave in front of the bridge window, the carnage narrated by radio transmissions coming in over the comlink. "I can't shake him!" "Hold on, Red 2!" "They're all over me!" The ponies cringed as a Y-wing pilot's ship flew apart around him, his death scream piercing the back of their skulls. Rainbow Dash fidgeted as she listened to the Rebels trying to hold off the pirates until they could get to the hyperspace buoy. Suddenly she shot into the air. "They're getting creamed out there!" "They're doing the best they can," admonished Twilight Sparkle. "But if I was out there I could help them!" "Yeah," said Twilight sarcastically. "That is until you passed out from the lack of oxygen." The blue pegasus sighed in frustration, then sank back down to the floor, her forelegs crossed angrily. They all watched and listened as the Rebel defenders blasted the pirates, the ragtag group of fighters weaving about and the Rebel X-wings blasting them to atoms. It was clear that the Alliance fighters were the better pilots and gunners, but they still suffered casualties. Twilight glanced over at Rainbow Dash as she fumed on the deck, angry that there was a major tousle outside the window and she wasn't able to do anything about it. After an eternity of warfare, the last Rneeki fighter was obliterated and the Rebel fighters started to land in the hangars of the larger warships. While the formations of fighters and bombers flew past the bridge window wearing fresh battle scars, Rainbow Dash walked over to the captain and tapped him on the hip. He turned around in a clipped, military fashion to look down at the cerulean pegasus. "Yes? What is it?" "Sir," began Rainbow Dash, "I want to fly one of those machines." He seemed at a loss for words, but Twilight and her friends were quick to rush to her side and shout, "What?!" "I want to join the squadron, sir." The captain looked down at the determined little pegasus pony. "I don't know, kid. You're not humanoid, so I don't know if you could even operate one of our fighters." "I don't care!" she shouted, stamping the deck with her hoof for emphasis. "I want to fly! You guys don't understand; I've got to be a part of the fight!" "But darling," said Rarity as she put her hoof on Rainbow's shoulder. "What if you get injured? Or killed? I couldn't bear to live without one of my best friends being there with me!" "That's right!" agreed Pinkie Pie. "What if you got hurt and I didn't have a pranking buddy anymore!" "Rainbow," said Twilight with a concerned tone, "I know you want to help, but this is just too dangerous. You should just forget it." "No!" shouted Dash as she rapidly whipped around, making everypony jump. "I've got to do this. The Empire has chased us around the galaxy, and it's time for some payback!" Turning toward the captain, she gave him the most serious expression she could muster. "Where do I sign up?" The captain scratched the back of his head. "Well, we're always looking for volunteers. Go talk to Chief Darnyn. He should be in the ship's library. If you –" "You have a library?!" exclaimed Twilight with a sparkle in her eye. "Um," replied the captain, "yeah." With a squeal, Twilight rushed out of the bridge and down the hall. After a few seconds, she walked back on the bridge and looked at the captain with an apologetic expression. Jerking his thumb in the direction of the turbolift, the captain replied, "Go down six levels, head down the corridor and take the fourth left. Should be the fifth room on the right." After giving the captain a sheepish grin, she trotted back down the hall toward the lift. Shaking her head, Rainbow Dash and the rest of the ponies watched her go, then the blue pegasus turned to look at the captain. "I think I better follow her down there and look for that chief you were talking about." The captain nodded his approval, then Dash trotted after Twilight. ----- After talking with the deck chief, Rainbow decided that she wanted to fly one of the Alliance's new RZ-1 A-wing interceptors. The speed and maneuverability were her primary concerns, and the chief agreed that she was best suited for that sort of fighter. The pegasus was then led to the warship's machine shop so that she could help the craftsmen aboard the ship fashion her a set of controls. Weaving around computer-operated milling machines and rapid-prototypers, she finally found the head machinist, a blue-skinned Duros. "Okay," replied the machinist as he made notes on his datapad. "How do you propose to control the fighter?" She tapped a hoof to her chin. "Well, what about a set of hoof-holds on the stick? That would allow me to pilot the ship without fingers." "What about firing the weapons?" asked the Duros as he noted more ideas. Dash squinted, trying to think up a way she could use the weapons, then shrugged impatiently. "I've used my mouth all my life to bite stuff, so maybe I could use it for controlling the guns." "You also have missiles," replied the machinist. "How about that?" "Gah! I don't know!" shouted Dash in frustration. "All this technical mumbo-jumbo is giving me a headache!" Sighing, the Duros put his datapad down and his hand on Dash's withers. "Look kid, I know this is boring to you, but I really need all this information, and the only person who can tell me what you want out of this is you." The blue pony nodded. "I understand. It's just that Twilight is better at stuff like this than me." "I don't know who Twilight is," replied the Duros, "but I still need to get these modifications done, and I really do need your input." The blue pegasus nodded again, then took a deep breath. "Okay." Grinning, the Duros picked his datapad up. "So, about those missiles?" ----- After many hours of work and several modifications to the original design, the mechanics were ready to present the fighter to Rainbow Dash. She was led to the hangar by a protocol droid and stopped in front of a large shape with a gray tarpaulin covering it. The mechanics had decided not to tell her they were finished, so when she got to the hangar she had no idea why she was there. "What's going on, guys?" she asked. "You need more measurements of my hoof?" "Not exactly," replied the human head mechanic, Zcecka Gyne. "Guys?" With a grand flourish, the mechanics grabbed the tarp and pulled it away, revealing a gleaming white A-wing fighter. Rainbow Dash's jaw dropped as she saw that the mechanics had even gone to the trouble of meticulously painting her cutie mark on the starboard dorsal control fin, and the green patch on the nose which indicated the squadron color had a secondary stripe of blue within it, capped by a short section of rainbow stripes. Zcecka watched as the pony slowly circled the fighter, her jaw hanging. He cleared his throat. "She's not a new ship, of course. We had to patch her together from a few different fighters and then clean up the blast marks and oil stains. Jarvey thought you'd like your mark on the fin there so he and the guys borrowed some paint from maintenance and decked her out. So what do you think?" Dash finished circling the fighter, then stood in front of the pointed nose and stared at it. "This . . . is . . . awesome!!" she shouted with gusto as she shot into the air, doing a lap around the hangar and causing a few floating droids to hurriedly fly out of her way. As she touched down on the deck next to the gleaming starfighter, the mechanics exchanged happy grins and handshakes. "I'm glad you like your new ride, Rainbow Dash," said Zcecka. "So this is my ship?" she asked with a huge grin. "Yep, she's yours. In fact, she's fueled and ready to launch if you want to take her out for a spin." The pegasus' eyes went wide. "You mean right now?!" Zcecka looked up at the control room hanging from the roof and got a thumbs up from a man sitting behind the control console, then looked back at Rainbow Dash with a grin. "That's affirmative. As long as you promise to go easy the first time out. A-wings are notoriously hard to control, but once you get the hang of flying one of these bad boys you'll probably be able to go faster." He reached over to the small arrowhead-shaped vessel and grabbed the flight helmet off the nose. Rainbow grinned at the cutie marks painted on top of the Alliance logos on the crown, as well as the special ear holes the mechanics had cut for her. A small tear formed in her eye, which she struggled to wipe away. Zcecka frowned. "You okay, kid?" "Yeah," she replied. "I'm fine. This is just the awesomest gift anyone's ever given me." "Hey," he said with heartfelt conviction, "you're a Rebel now, and that means you're one of the family." She reached up and gave him a hug, then grabbed the flight helmet and put it on her head. It fit like a glove. "So you ready to go?" asked the human mechanic. Looking up at him with a determined smile, Dash said, "Let's do this!" ----- The ion drives burned bright as the green and white A-wing shot out of the hangar aperture, followed closely by a red-striped X-wing fighter. As the older ship struggled to keep up with the nimble interceptor, the man at the controls, Hobbie Klivian, keyed his mike. "Hey Dash, take it easy. You need to maintain control of your craft at all times. Those A-wings are tricky beasts, and one false move can send you careening into the side of your home ship." Hitting the comm-key with her left hoof, Rainbow retorted, "Look, I've been flying since I was a filly. I think I know how to – whoa!” Rainbow wrestled the control stick with her other hoof to avoid smashing right into a communications blister on the surface of the Mon Calamari cruiser she had taken off from. "See what I mean?" said the voice on the comm, causing Rainbow to glare up at the long-nosed snub fighter to her left. "Now, just ease up on the throttle a bit as we go through some basic maneuvers," he continued. "I know you think you're good, but you've probably never flown something as responsive as the A-wing, and the acceleration compensators can make you feel like you're not even maneuvering at all. If you don't watch out, you could find yourself heading straight into some starship's hull. Got it?" She nodded involuntarily. "Got it, boss." Soon, she had gained control over the fighter, faster than Hobbie had thought was possible, and he grinned widely as she looped and weaved in the nimble little interceptor, almost as though she and the machine had become a single creature, ready to take on the best the Empire could throw at it. "Looks like you're a natural at this, kid," said Hobbie with an impressed tone. "Now, I'll talk you through the procedures for landing and then well get you started on your simulator training." The little fighter in front of him waggled its hull in affirmation, then they both headed toward the hangar aperture. ----- "Hoo-wee! I am hungrier than a cowpoke at the end of a trail drive!" Applejack smacked her lips as she walked with Fluttershy down one of the ship's many corridors toward a mess hall in hopes of finding a meal. Joining them was Kyle Katarn, mercenary and former Imperial Stormtrooper, and Jan Ors, his friend and mission officer. "Well, don't expect much from the chow here," replied Kyle. "It's all done by Mon Cal cooks, and they have a thing for seafood." "Seafood?" echoed Applejack skeptically. "Yeah," replied Kyle, "Y'know, clams, fish, oysters, that kind of thing." Fluttershy gasped at being reminded of the omnivorous diet of most humanoids. "Ah imagine seaweed's on that list, too" said Applejack in disgust. "You think they might have anything like apples and whatnot there?" "I think they have vegetarian meals," said Jan. "Well Ah hope so," replied the orange work pony. "Ah ain't about ta chow down on some animal they dredged up from the ocean." As they walked, they happened to pass by a white and green astromech unit. Before the droid got within five feet of them, Fluttershy began to whimper and sniff. Jan leaned in to whisper in Applejack's ear. "What's with her?" The earth-pony took her time as she carefully chose the right words. "Well, it's like this. She was friends with a machine like that on the planet we first set hoof on here, and then it turned out to be an agent o' the Empire." Nodding in understanding, Jan looked at the little yellow pegasus with sympathetic eyes. "Hey," she said kindly, "It's okay. He's one of ours." "I know," sniffed Fluttershy as she turned her head away, "but I keep thinking about R2-D8 and how he betrayed us to the Empire." They looked at each other, then Applejack walked closer to Fluttershy. "Look, sugarcube, that thing might have betrayed us, but at least now we're with the Rebels, and their droids aren't evil." Fluttershy looked back at Applejack for a moment, then nodded. "I understand." It was clear that she wasn't totally convinced, but for the moment Applejack wasn't going to push the issue. She just shook her head sympathetically as the four of them continued walking toward the mess hall, hoping to find a good hot meal. ----- A slight hissing sound was heard behind Rainbow Dash as the A-wing's main reactor warmed up. While she waited for the power systems to fully engage, she took a moment to focus on what she was doing. The hangar surrounding her was bustling with activity, or it would have been had it been real and not a simulation, but she had her mind on one thing, and that was the mission at hand. Soon the simulated ship's reactor was at full burn and she instinctively hit the ion drive startup sequence. "This is Green Two. I have two starts and am go for launch." She heard her wingman, a human male from Corellia, buzz in the comm system. "This is Green Five. I'm go." The other six members of the small group in the attack squad all signaled their readiness for launch, and Rainbow felt a slight trickle of sweat roll down her forehead. Relax, Rainbow. No need to worry about this. It's nothing like trying to perform a Buccaneer Blitz or a Sonic Rainboom. Just jump in, hit the convoy, and jump out. It's just a simulation. No big, right? She wished that she felt as confident as she was psyching herself up to be, but that didn't matter as she flipped more switches and made sure all systems were go. Absentmindedly, she scratched at the flight suit the Rebels had given her. Even though it was the smallest one, it still didn't fit quite right. The control box hanging awkwardly on her chest was something else she would have to get used to. Soon she heard the flight leader on the comm. "This is Green Leader. All my boys are ready, tower." A moment of silence, then: "This is tower. You're good to go, Green Squadron." "Okay boys, you heard the man," said the brown-haired Corellian. "Hit the repulsors and let's get going." Rainbow looked to her right and moved a black lever forward, resulting in the small ship slowly levitating off the deck. As soon as the landing gear was fully retracted into the hull, she joined her wingmates in a delta formation. "Go to lightspeed and rendezvous at the cargo fleet." As Rainbow engaged the ship's hyperdrive, the stars elongated and bent around the ship, their glow coalescing into the familiar hyperspace tunnel. She fought the urge to roll to the right as space seemed to twist around the ship. Soon long streaks of light appeared ahead of her and returned to the pin-pricked night of space, with a small group of bright white specks appearing ahead of her: the convoy. "Throttle up, Greens. Hit 'em with all you've got." Rainbow grinned as she opened up the throttle, shooting past her squad-mates and heading straight toward the small fleet of defenseless ships. Almost defenseless. One of the ships didn't look quite like the freighters she was sent to destroy. Bringing up her Combat Multiview Display and cycling through the target profiles, she saw that this was an Imperial Strike-class cruiser, and it was already unloading its compliment of TIE Fighters. Rainbow, already ahead of the pack, knew she would be playing bait to the TIE Fighters while her wingmen would be hitting the convoy. But she didn't care so long as she was doing something to strike back at the Empire. Space became crowded as she closed in on the enemy fighter group. When she got within to two klicks, her HUD painted a yellow box around the lead TIE Fighter, letting her know that it was in range. Dash nudged the throttle back to give herself a bit more maneuverability as the squadron of Imperials buzzed past her, then she rolled and pulled up on the stick to point her ship's nose directly at lead ship's tail. When she heard the characteristic chime of the targeting computer, she opened fire. Three of her volleys missed, but the fourth connected, turning the Imperial "Eyeball" into a glowing sphere of simulated plasma. "Aw yea!" exclaimed Rainbow as she pulled out of the flight path and back toward the convoy, but her elation was soon dampened by a cry on the commlink: "Guys, I'm in trouble over here!" The communications screen told her it was Green Three who was crying out, and soon she saw why. Two TIE Interceptors, deadly bent-wing cousins of the TIE Fighter, were trailing close to her squad-mate, sending green needles of death stabbing toward him. She bobbed and weaved, trying to get a firing solution, and as soon as she got a tone lock she hit the trigger and blasted the closest Imperial fighter to smithereens. Before she could hit the other fighter, a high-pitched warning in her headset forced her attention away from the dogfight, and she saw that she had drifted into the Strike cruiser's firing solution. Large green beams of destruction lanced up at her, and she quickly hit the throttle and screamed away from the warship before it could turn her into a flaming ball of plasma. As she did, she heard a screaming voice on the comm system: "I'm hit!" She turned her head just in time to see Green Three's gleaming A-wing being ripped apart by the TIE Interceptor she had failed to destroy. Muttering a curse under her breath, she flipped her ship around and headed for the lone "Squint", sending a volley of red laser bolts toward the target. She was rewarded by the sight of the Imperial ship being blasted apart, only to hear another warning chime in her headset and see a volley of green lasers flash past her canopy. Four TIE Interceptors were now on her tail, and she juked hard to try and shake them off. But for all her maneuvering, they stuck on her like flypaper, all the while sending volley after destructive volley of laser energy toward her tail. A high-pitched whine accompanied each blast of energy, and soon several of them connected. The simulator couch shook as hit after hit pummeled her backside, and then all went black. "I've been hit!" shouted Dash into the comm system. "Guys, help me! I'm stranded out here!" Nobody answered, but then she remembered that she wasn't really in space and was instead sitting in her simulator pod, waiting on the other pilots to finish the mission. Before too long a streak of white light appeared in the seams around the pod's entrance as it cracked open. The canopy retracted, and as soon as it was up Rainbow Dash hopped up and vehemently threw her flight helmet into the seat. Other pilots gathered around her as she made her way out of the pod, but she brushed them off. "Hey," said one in a decidedly angry voice. "What do you want?" she spat as she turned around, only to be met with a stern expression from the man she recognized as her flight leader, Arvel Crynyd. Her eyes went wide with terror as she realized who it was she had just treated so insultingly. "You better show more respect to your superiors than that if you want to be a part of the Alliance Fighter Corps, private." Rainbow Dash hung her head and swore under her breath, then looked up to meet Arvel's death glare. "I'm sorry, sir." "Look, kid," he said, his expression softening slightly, "you did good. But you need to pay attention to your surroundings or else you're gonna be mynock bait." She nodded. "Yes, sir. I wanted to save my wingmate, but I would have been blasted by that cruiser." "I know. I was there, Dash. But in the Alliance, we're all family here. We don't ever abandon our teammates if we can help it. You could have saved him if you had stayed away from that cruiser. Next time, think about more than just your own ship. Got it?" Rainbow reflected for a moment, then looked up at him again. "I understand, sir." "Good," he replied flatly. "Now get back in there and do it again, and this time stay out of the Strike cruiser's firing solution." "Yes, sir," replied the blue pegasus as she climbed back up the ladder and into the simulator pod. "And Dash," said Arvel. She turned back to look at him. "If I ever catch you tossing your flight helmet in anger again, you're gonna be scrubbing the flight deck with a toothbrush until I can see myself in it. You got that?" Her eyes going wide, Rainbow quickly nodded in agreement and hopped back into the sim-couch. ----- A shadow fell across the surface of an airless moon as the engines of the mighty Executor pushed the warship through space on patrol near the Arrakis sector, her attending flotilla of Star Destroyers seemingly a farce in light of the enormous size of the vessel. On her bridge, the dark figure of Darth Vader stood on the command walkway, looking out the windows. The bridge crew nervously went about their tasks, fearful that the dark lord might decide to use the time to make an inspection and perhaps find one of his subordinates lacking, but the Sith Lord's mind was on other things. Specifically, he was thinking about the ponies that his master had decided to capture. He knew they were powerful, and that they would make excellent additions to the forces of the Empire, should he and his master be successful in converting them to the Dark Side. But if the battle he'd had with his son was any indication, they would be hard to convert indeed. Luke was pure and had a good heart, which was proving difficult to penetrate, and if he couldn't bring him to the Dark Side the Emperor would surely destroy him. He looked out the bridge windows at the lifeless planetoid beyond. Those ponies will be just as hard to turn. But it must be done if my master is to have any hope of cloning them. "Lord Vader." He turned to look at the junior officer who was standing behind him. "What is it?" The fear behind the young man's eyes was evident. "My Lord, the Emperor commands you to move Death Squadron to Brentaal in order to make an example of them." "Very well," replied the masked cyborg as he strode past the officer and back toward his meditation pod. "Inform Admiral Piett." "Yes sir," replied the officer with a clipped military tone, the relief he felt spilling into his voice. Vader in the meantime had already moved off the bridge and was on his way to the private chamber in which resided the hyperbaric meditation pod he used for communing with the Dark Side of the Force. We will convert these ponies, he thought. Or they will die. ----- The crystal planet Mygeeto is a chunk of solid wealth. Its crust , composed almost entirely of crystals, forms a jagged lattice that has lured the greedy since the world's discovery over six thousand years ago. The atlas Twilight held before her was a treasure trove of information on the universe she was now inhabiting, and she was truly fascinated by the sheer variety of planets and societies that made up the civilized portions of the galaxy. On Dathomir, Force witches roamed about, riding ugly, horrible monsters called rancors which they were able to tame into mounts. Rattatak was home to many brutal gladiatorial arenas and a species that was in an almost constant state of warfare. The planet Naboo was a lush world of rolling grasslands and incredible artistry, and Twilight desperately wished she could go there, except for the fact that that world was now aligned with the Empire. The other books she'd found were no less impressive. She'd encountered a book on the technology of the galaxy, and was astounded by the plethora of ways that aliens had found to accomplish tasks like growing plants, levitating mile-long starships, and even creating whole planets from scratch. One book even mentioned a place called Centerpoint Station that was responsible for constructing entire planetary systems, including the famous Corellian star system. As she read however, she felt a twinge of something. It took a moment to place it: regret that she would not be able to explore this great galaxy. Twilight had had a few meetings with Celestia since they joined the Rebel Alliance, and they came to the conclusion that it would be best to return as quickly as possible, regardless of whether they could stop at a point soon after they left and get the world spinning again. Celestia had reminded her student that since they didn't know whether the portal to this world would remain accessible indefinitely, they might be trapped here, if they weren't already. It was not enough to erase Twilight's regret over her inability to explore this awesome and rich galaxy. As she read further about the Intergalactic Banking Clan's purchase of Mygeeto, she heard hoofsteps behind her. "I hope I'm not bothering you, Twilight," Rarity said gently. "Not at all," replied the purple unicorn, putting down the datapad she had been reading the electronic book on. "What brings you down here, Rarity?" "Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to see what you were doing," she replied casually. “After all, your studies are just so . . . interesting to me.” Twilight raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. "Oh?" "Okay, okay. I was bored." Rarity sat down on the deck and leaned against a shelf of reference book datacards. "There's just not much to do on this ship. After weeks of being chased about by that dreadful Empire, it feels like I should be actually doing something!" "I know what you mean, Rarity." Twilight sat down next to her. "It's like you know you need to be doing something, but you don't know what." "Yes, that's it exactly." The ivory fashionista let out an exasperated sigh. "At least you found something interesting to do." "Yeah," said Twilight. "There's a wealth of information here. Just look at this information I found on star systems." She shoved the datapad in Rarity's face. "It's got every system they've ever charted or explored, and I just finished looking through a book on alien cultures and customs!" Rarity looked at the electronic screen with a mixture of confusion and feigned interest. "Heh-heh, interesting!" "It really is, isn't it?" She levitated the book back, then Rarity noticed a subtle shadow of melancholy fall over her face. "Twilight? Is something wrong?" She looked at the datapad pensively for a moment, then glanced back at Rarity. "It's just that there's this whole universe of planets and civilizations I could explore and discover, and I probably won't be able to see any of it." "I don't really understand why anypony would want to see more of this place," replied Rarity with a tone of disgust, "but I understand." "As do I." Both of the unicorns gasped and then bowed. "Princess Celestia!" "I couldn't help but overhear your lament, Twilight," said the magnificent ruler. "Is it something you wish to talk about?" "Well," replied the young student, "I just wish I could have more time here to explore and do research. This galaxy is truly fascinating, even if it's at war." Celestia nodded. "It is a good thing that you want to expand your mind, my young apprentice. That same intellect is the one I chose to be my personal protege' all those years ago." She put a hoof on Twilight's shoulder. "But keep in mind your responsibility to your home. Equestria is in terrible danger unless we can rescue Luna and Spike from the evil Emperor." "I understand, your Highness," said Twilight with a bow. Celestia nodded in return, then turned around and headed back out the door. As she watched her liege calmly glide out of the library, Twilight thought about her predicament. Despite her desire to gain more knowledge about this universe, she knew Celestia was right. She needed to be mindful of the world she called home, and the fact that unless they can return to Equestria and undo the damage, their planet would remain consumed by fire and ice. "Twilight," said Rarity, "I think I'm going to go see if there's someplace I can use as a dress shop. These people probably don't care a wit about fashion, but I need something to do with my hooves." "Of course, Rarity." The purple unicorn smiled at her friend. "I'll be fine here." "See you later." The white pony followed Celestia, leaving Twilight Sparkle to her studies, and then a small smile crept onto the lavender unicorn's lips. She may have regretted being unable to explore the galaxy, but she did take comfort in the fact that she was now a member of the Rebel Alliance, and had access to the kind of technology she needed to rescue not only her Princess of the Night, but her best friend in the universe. ----- As Rainbow Dash walked down the corridor of the massive Calamari warship wearing her brand new, custom-tailored pilot's uniform and holding her flight helmet under her wing, she had an extra spring in her step. Following a crash course in flying one of the most temperamental starfighters in the Alliance arsenal and excelling in every possible field, the blue pegasus had finally been assigned to a real mission, and what's more, she was sure that she would be the flight leader, or else would be second in command. And why not? She took to flying her starfighter like a duck to water. She excelled in every possible field. And she was naturally awesome. How could she not be a top-ranking flier? A grin splashing across her face told everyone she passed in the corridor that she was a mare who was walking on cloud nine, and she was proud to let everyone know just how happy she was. The message on her personal account had told her that mission assignments would be available shortly before the briefing, so she was now trotting toward the pilot's lounge to find out where she fell in the squadron's lineup. When she arrived at the door to the lounge, she looked up at the name of the place hastily painted above the entrance, suppressing a squeal of delight that she was finally invited into the area where the real pilots hung out. It wasn't as cool as being asked to be a Wonderbolt, but it did give her a sense of validation for her accomplishment. "Hey, boys!" she shouted over the din. Many heads turned, and some of the friends she'd made during training waved at her with a smile, or what passed for a smile on their alien faces. She smiled back at them, then trotted toward the pilot roster. That deceptively small bit of floating blue hologram was something she'd been looking forward to seeing ever since she woke up that morning and began counting down the hours till the briefing, and her excitement was building with each step toward that list. "So," she said to a couple of pilots who had just walked away from the roster. "How are you guys gonna handle being under me?" The human male pilot gave her a look of confusion. "I think you'd better check the roster, Dash." She frowned a bit, then trotted toward the hologram and read down the list. "I'm the fourth?!" The shout drew the attention of most of the pilots in the lounge. "Hey," said Djack H'mnib, a Sullustan, from the nearest lounge chair. "Don't take it personally, Rainbow. We're all wingmen here." Despite an outward acknowledgment of the man's advice, Dash felt the weight of disappointment form in her stomach. She dejectedly walked over to a couch and played with the straps holding her chest control box in place, trying to focus on the good. At least I'm a real pilot now, she tried to tell herself, but she still felt like she had been punched in the stomach. As she wallowed in self-pity, she heard a familiar voice on the other side of the room. "Listen up," said Arvel with an air of authority. "We've been assigned to investigate an Imperial listening post. A lot of you are green, having never seen combat, but the Imperials aren't expecting us to even know this place exists, much less show up." His voice softened a bit as he gave them a warm smile. "I know you guys are gonna do great. You're some of the best of the best, and I know each and every one of you will be awesome out there. We'll be heading to the briefing in a minute, but I just wanted to give you guys my vote of confidence right now, while we have a moment of peace." Dash listened with a half grin. She had to admit, hearing the man who was in charge of her squadron letting herself and all her wingmates know that he believed in them did lift her spirits. Still, the idea that she was not higher in rank was bugging her. Was she not good enough? Did they think that just because she was a stranger she didn't couldn't be trusted to take command? She was about to ask Arvel about her assignment when the chime sounded for the pilots to enter the briefing room. Grabbing her helmet and shoving it under her wing, she joined the other pilots as they headed into the theater adjoined to the lounge, shaking the doubts from her mind. She wasn't happy with her assignment, but she had a job to do. ----- The cockpit canopy on Rainbow Dash's green-striped A-wing fighter slid back and locked down into the hull, sealing the blue pegasus in her small starship. Butterflies fluttered about in her stomach as she mentally went through the preflight checklist. Hydraulics online . . . laser capacitors charged . . . shield projectors warmed up . . . As her eyes scanned the dashboard, they belied the excitement she felt, a sentiment echoed by the enormous grin on her lips. Not thirty seconds ago, all the flight time she'd had to her name, besides a short hop in her fighter when they'd given it to her, was a series of simulator missions. But as the maglocks engaged on the canopy with a click and the ship's various systems came online, it hit her like a ton of bricks: This is my first real mission! She couldn't help but feel elated that she was finally going to fly a real mission against a terrible enemy, an emotion that caused her to squeal with joy. “What was that, Four?” Scrambling to hit the comm key, she replied, “Nothing,” in as professional a tone as she could muster, but her excitement was hardly lessened. The Empire had harmed her friends. Her friends. And nobody messed with Rainbow's friends and got away with it. She flicked the reactor powerup switches, and after the small powerplant was at full output she hit the engine starters. "Green Squadron," squawked Arvel Crynyd over the comm, "all wings report in." Rainbow keyed the comm switch. "Green Four, I have two starts. Ready to go." "This is Green Two, standing by." "Green Six, all systems ready." One by one all the squadron members acknowledged their preparedness. As soon as the last member of Green Squadron called in, Dash heard the flight leader report their readiness to the tower, and soon found herself rocketing out of the hangar and joining her squadron members in their raid on the Imperial communications outpost. “Okay pilots,” she heard over the comm as she passed one of the Assault Frigates, “Stay sharp. Let's do this one by the numbers. Head to the hyperspace point and prepare to move out.” Rainbow nodded involuntarily as the small group of A-wings headed toward the hyperspace buoy, just beyond the edge of the Rebel fleet. Within seconds the familiar beep of the proximity indicator sounded in her headset, and with the pull of the silver initiation lever she felt her ship violently accelerate and fall into the multihued realm of hyperspace. ----- The swirling blue tunnel parted as the six A-wings arrived at the Imperial listening post. A deep orange glow cast by the red giant star at the center of the system gave it a hue of perpetual sunset. The scene would have been lovely to Rainbow Dash, if it weren't for the gray Imperial space station looming ahead. Immediately however she noticed something wrong: the forward sensor display was lit up with at least fifty signatures, and the briefing had explicitly mentioned only a handful of satellites, a fighter hangar, and a control station. The comm unit crackled to life with the voice of her squadron leader. “Looks like they've got a minefield protecting the satellites.” “Well that's just fantastic,” muttered Rainbow Dash under her breath. As she started to throttle up to eliminate the mines, Commander Crynyd again called in on the comm. “Take care of those fighters first, then go after the mines.” Reluctantly, Dash corrected her trajectory, then mashed the throttle forward. The thrust from her A-wing's twin J-77 Event Horizon engines pushed her back into the seat as she shot toward the large obelisk which the CMD identified as a hangar. Squinting at the gray structure, she saw a small cloud of objects pouring out of the apertures at its center, and she knew what they were: Imperial TIE Fighters. Relax, Dash, she said to herself. They're probably green, since they're out here in the middle of nowhere. Nevertheless, she steeled herself for the imminent confrontation, and soon her vision was filled with a shower of green laser blasts. Struggling to keep her cool in the midst of the swarm as it passed her, she quickly pulled the stick up and then rolled to bring herself behind the fighters. A small grin played on her mouth as she mowed down two of them in a hail of rapid-fire laser blasts. But before she could finish up the squadron it broke into a starburst, forcing her to choose one of them to pursue. Quickly Rainbow picked one of the TIEs at random and began to chase it, only to be jolted by a blast from a mine she had flown a tad too close to. “Nuts!” she shouted as she jinked away, losing her target lock in the process. But she didn't have to wait long to reacquire it as the inexperienced TIE pilot drifted back into her sights. “You're mine now, buddy,” she said to herself as she sent several scarlet bolts of energy into the TIE's tail and solar array, consuming it in a fiery conflagration. It wasn't long before Dash and her wingmates had taken care of the entire squadron, allowing her to attack the minefield. She wasn't so sure about this; mines were not susceptible to a game of chicken, and Rainbow was pretty sure they could rip her fighter to glittering pieces if she wasn't careful. “Hey Four,” she heard in her commlink's speaker system, “You want some help over there?” “Nah,” she replied to Djack, “I'll get rid of these things in ten seconds flat.” “Bet you fifty credits you can't.” A wry grin took over Dash's face. “You're on, flyboy.” After transferring power from the engines to the shields, she hit the throttle and shot toward the small, black spheres that were sending green lances of energy at her. She dodged and weaved as she raced toward the first group of mines, sending laser energy flying at them. “Use caution when firing around those mines, Four!” Crynyd apparently had caught a glimpse of her showboating. “You don't want to hit one of the satellites.” Dash rolled her eyes as the last of the mines around the satellite in front of her disappeared in a ball of glowing debris. “No problem, sir. And Djack . . .” She paused for dramatic effect as she checked her mission clock. “You owe me fifty credits when we get back to the ship.” A scowl resounded on the speaker, followed by jeering and laughter from her comrades. Soon the last mine was obliterated, prompting a cheer of elation from Rainbow Dash. “Excellent,” said Crynyd as the light from the fireball faded, “All the mines have been destroyed. The modified corvette Python is on the way. Stay alert.” Hearing the name of the Assassin-class corvette reminded Dash that she would need to protect that ship while the slicers aboard her infiltrated the Imperial computers on the space station and tried to locate the data they were after. With the minefield gone, Rainbow and her squadron were able to start inspecting the satellites. Noting that there were only a few, she picked the closest one and sped toward it. Bits of debris from destroyed fighters were the only thing which indicated that Rainbow was rapidly closing the vast distance between herself and the small, spindly device hanging in space, but soon she saw the glint of metal in front of her. She barely had time to blink before the targeting computer told her what the sensor system was seeing, and after the report had finished scrolling across the screen she radioed the information to her group leader. “Very good, Four,” replied Crynyd. Other reports were heard over the radio, and as soon as the last one came through the squad leader piped into the channel. “That's it; all satellites have been inspected.” Seconds after he finished speaking, Dash heard an alarm, indicating that a new ship was entering the system. Cycling through the targets in her CMD, she found the new ship: the Python had arrived. She smiled at the thought that all she had to do now was hang around and wait, but her attention was drawn to a new dot on the forward sensor readout. She wouldn't have worried, except the threat identifier colored the dot red, and she knew that meant an Imperial craft. Targets flashed by on her CMD as she cycled through them, and then she finally saw what it was that had jumped into the system: an Imperial Escort Carrier. She wasn't sure how many TIE Fighters it could hold, but judging by its size of 500 meters, she figured it could probably carry at least a squadron. She swallowed hard. “Looks like we've worn out our welcome here,” muttered Crynyd. Soon Dash's fears were confirmed: dot after blood-hued dot flooded the screen, and her communications board informed her that TIE Fighters and TIE Interceptors were launching into the fray from the Escort Carrier. “They're launching fighters!” shouted Crynyd. “Green Group, intercept!” Barrel-rolling toward the newcomers, Dash shoved the throttle all the way forward, flooding the engines with energy and blasting toward the swarm of enemy fighters. They might be small, but she knew that in those numbers they posed a significant threat to the corvette. As soon as she had range, the blue pegasus hit the firing studs, sending bright red rain hailing on the group of TIEs, and she was rewarded by a brilliant fireworks display of fighters detonating. Soon however a new problem arose. “Hey Four!” shouted her wingmate, Carrie Harkness, “There's a bandit on your tail!” Sure enough, Dash heard a tone which told her someone had a lock on her, which was confirmed when she felt several blasts impact her fighter. Flicking a few switches to transfer partial power to the shields, she flipped her fighter to face her enemy. Out in space, one of the TIE Interceptors was banking, and soon she saw in her HUD that it was heading right for her. Both of the small starfighters began a deadly game of chicken, and Dash wondered who would make the first move. She didn't have long to wait; bolts of green destruction spewed from the Imperial ship's wingtips, but at this distance they were flying wide. Then an interesting idea occurred to her. She knew that the only way for the enemy pilot to know that she was firing a missile were if he got a target lock warning from his ship's computer. But if she didn't lock on, he wouldn't see the missile until it was too late. Flipping her CMD to another enemy target, she brought up her missile circuit and squinted as she tried to manually aim the small warhead. The touchy control systems of the A-wing made it hard to steady the fighter long enough and accurately enough for her plan to work, but in the briefest of moments she saw the center of the targeting reticule pass over the Interceptor. Without thinking, she hit the firing stud. A small yellow bolt flew out of the starboard missile tube, careening toward the TIE Interceptor. Green lasers were still flying from the tiny craft, and Dash silently prayed that they wouldn't accidentally contact the warhead before it delivered its deadly payload. What felt like hours was more like seconds as Dash waited for the concussion missile to impact the Interceptor, but in no time she saw the TIE suddenly try to maneuver out of the way of the missile. His efforts however were too little, too late. Rainbow pulled away with a cocky grin as the ordinance burrowed through the transparisteel windscreen of the TIE Interceptor, detonating inside the luckless pilot's cockpit and ripping the advanced fighter to shreds. “Message from vital craft: they've started their boarding operation.” Dash craned her neck to see that the Python had parked next to the space station and extended her boarding tube. Sparks flew from the cutting torches as they tore through the metal skin, and in moments the capital ship's docking mechanisms were interfaced with the station. “This is the Python,” said the captain of the Rebel spacecraft, “We're starting the download now.” Pulling on the stick, Dash reoriented herself and immediately felt an impact on her ship. Glancing at the rear sensor readout, she saw a couple of blips that were directly behind her. She hit the targeting button until she saw that two TIE Fighters were trying to take her out, bolts flying from the cannons like a fountain of green energy. She juked to throw off their aim, then pulled into a lazy circle around the space station dominating the center of the battlefield. The TIE Fighter pilots tried to copy her maneuver, which she was counting on. Their flight path took them right in front of one of Dash's wingmates. “All yours, Gavin.” As the pair of TIE Fighters disintegrated in the barrage of red laser fire, Rainbow Dash heard a cry on the headset: “Someone get these guys off my tail!” She checked the comm screen to see who it was, then made a sharp turn toward Green Six. The pilot, Ternin Farr, had painted racing stripes on his fighter's upper fuselage, but they were being boiled away by the heat from laser blasts. A trio of TIE Interceptors were closing in on his aft, each one firing its deadly quartet of laser cannons. Hitting the throttle for maximum thrust, Rainbow shot toward the enemy group like a bullet, the acceleration pushing her into her seat as though an elephant were sitting on her chest. She flew past several TIE Fighters who tried to take pot shots at her, then abruptly pulled up to put herself on the tail end of the Interceptors. She bit her lip. It would be hard to get a shot at the Interceptors without risking a hit on Ternin. Flashes of her previous failure in the simulator were also distracting her. But she steadied her hooves and flicked the firing stud. Several red lances were produced by her laser cannons, impacting the trailing Interceptor and exploding the cockpit ball. The other two ships stuck to her wingmate's tail like gnats to flypaper however, the destruction of their own wingmate barely fazing them. “Come on, Four! Get these bandits off me!” She screamed into the comm, “Hold on, Six! I'll get these guys!” Wrestling the control column to keep behind the Interceptors was a real challenge. To keep them from getting a good shot, Ternin had to weave and bob his ship, meaning that Rainbow Dash had to match his moves perfectly in addition to trying to get a lock on the Interceptors. Every turn they did threw off her aim, and between trying to stick to the Interceptor's tails and avoiding hitting Ternin, it was all she could do to keep up. Suddenly another of her volleys connected with an Interceptor, severing one of the wing pylons and sending the solar radiator careening into the other Interceptor. The impact tore apart the remaining ship and detonated the reactor core, the small solar engine going up like a supernova. Rainbow peeled off and saluted Ternin through the canopy. “Thanks, Rainbow,” replied the relieved pilot. “No sweat,” she said, her usual cockiness seeping into her voice. Her smile faded as she turned her attention to the message coming through her headset. “This is the Python. We're picking up a strange signal here. It's an Alliance frequency, but one we haven't used for a while.” “That could be our anonymous informant,” she heard from her flight leader. “Save it to your data log. We'll analyze it when you return.” “Roger, Green Leader.” Dash looked up just in time to see the boarding tube's explosive bolts fire, propelling the capital ship away from the station. The tube retracted into the hull as the massive ion drives fired, propelling the spacecraft away from the station on eleven pillars of blue-hot plasma. They continued to burn, turning the ship toward the point in space where the stellar radiation was low enough for the hyperdrive to engage. But they were not out of the woods yet. As soon as the Python cleared the station, a message flashed in Rainbow Dash's HUD: “Four new craft – TIE Bomber Gamma.” “This is the Python. We've finished the download. We're headed to the hyperpoint. Keep our tail clear!” Dash growled under her breath. Can't we catch a break? Putting her craft into a wide turn, she brought herself behind the group of TIE Bombers, their bent wings sheathing their twin cylindrical hulls which were starting to unload their proton torpedoes. Bright purple and blue streaks of light shot from their ordinance bays, streaking toward the corvette at breakneck speeds. What do I do, she asked herself. If she went after the bombers, the torpedoes might hit. But going after the torpedoes meant that more would be launched from the bombers. Either way, she was risking the lives of everyone aboard that corvette. Quickly she made a decision. She lined up her crosshairs on the lead bomber and unleashed a pair of concussion missiles. Instantly the deadly tips of the warheads made contact with the bomber and detonated the ordinance load, sending pieces of the ship flying in all directions. The proximity to the blast forced the other bombers to break off, leaving Dash to pursue the nearest one. After eliminating the remaining bombers, she boosted her engines and started toward the line of torpedoes which were still heading right for the corvette. Pulling up and then looping around, she managed to line herself up perfectly with the lead torpedo, then sent a burst of laser bolts toward it. The volley impacted the small weapon, causing it to explode in spectacular fashion. But it was just one of several torpedoes, and they were seconds from detonating. Rainbow hit the afterburners and swooped toward the front of the line, then performed a perfect Koiogran turn and started up the procession of warheads, firing as she went. One by one the missiles detonated against the barrage of laser fire. Finally the last one blew, illuminating her ship in a yellow-white glow. “Aw yeah!” she cheered. As soon as the flash died down, the blue pegasus felt a vibration. She looked up just in time to see the Python engage her hyperdrive and disappear in the blink of an eye. When it was gone, Rainbow let out an energetic whoop. Cheers resounded as the rest of her flight group joined her in celebrating their victory. Looking at her CMD, she saw the Imperial Escort Carrier retreat into hyperspace, having called back all its fighter groups which hadn't been destroyed. Over the comm she heard her flight leader chime in. “Good work, Green Group. Return to Home One. Hopefully that data will turn up some valuable information.” “Roger that, flight leader,” responded Rainbow, then taking one last look at the comm station, she pulled a small silver lever. The sky filled with blue, and relief filled her soul. ----- A high-pitched whine slowly died down as Rainbow's A-wing fighter shut down. As soon as the cockpit canopy was retracted, she hopped out of the fighter, glancing at the new battle scars her craft wore and smiling at the thought that she had done good in the name of justice and freedom. Climbing down the boarding ladder, she was greeted by the smiles of her commander and wingmen, as well as her Ponyville friends, who had been watching the battle in the long-range sensor lab. “Rainbow Dash,” said Crynyd. “You did awesome out there today. If you hadn't blasted those proton torpedoes, the Python might not have made it out of there.” “I just did what anypony else would have done, sir,” said Dash, her face a mix of pride and relief. “Be that as it may, I was really impressed with your flying, and so was everyone else. I'd be proud to have you flying with me any time.” Rainbow smiled up at him, the gratitude she felt palpable. Then after a small round of compliments from the other pilots, she joined her friends for an after-dinner celebration, courtesy of Pinkie Pie. ----- The cold of the metal cage and the pitch black of the surrounding room were the only two things Spike could feel in the physical sense, but inside he was seething. This man, the Emperor, had been at him for days, poking and prodding at him, trying to drive his spirit away. But Spike had not given in. After all that he had gone though, all that had happened to him and his friends, the little dragon was not about to give in to some old man, no matter how much magic he had. As he brooded, his eyes were assaulted by a sliver of bright light, the stabbing pain from the sudden change in brightness shooting straight into the back of his head like a dagger. Squinting, he saw that the light was spilling from a doorway which led into a corridor, illuminating two shadowy figures standing beyond. One walked into the dark room toward Spike's cage, allowing him to see his face. “What do you want?” he asked the Emperor. “Is that any way to treat your host, little one?” Spike rolled his eyes. “It is if you're as bored as I am.” “Tsk, tsk,” chided Palpatine. “We can't have that, my pet.” The purple dragon shot a look of pure venom at the old man in front of him. “Why don't you just let me out of this cage, you old goat? Are you afraid to take me on dragon to . . . uh, human?” The Sith Lord paused. “Hmm. I think I will, young one.” Spike raised an eyebrow skeptically. “But first,” continued the Emperor, “let me show you to something.” He raised a hand and beckoned toward the other figure in the corridor. Spike leaned forward and tried to make out what it was, then when he got a better look he shrieked and scrambled toward the other end of the cage. Shuffling toward him on two metallic legs was the most grotesque creature he had ever seen. It was about as tall as a human, but the similarities ended there. Its entire body was composed of sheets of metal hammered into the basic shape of humanoid body parts, which were covering a skeleton which seemed to be made partly of metal and partly of bone. Diseased musculature clung to it like a mass of red slugs. The head was only partly formed, with a face which had only one glowing red eye and a mouth that was missing its lower jaw. The worst part was that where it should have had hands there was only a pair of jointed, serrated claws which were dripping with a liquid that Spike could only guess was some kind of poison. The creature emitted a low moan with each exaggerated step, filling Spike with pure terror. The Emperor appeared pleased with the effect his creature was having on the poor dragon. “What is that thing?” asked Spike, his voice trembling in fear. “They have many names, but the one I favor is 'Technobeast.' You might say they are imbued with magic, and are capable of transforming you into one of them . . .” he gently caressed the beast's appendage, “merely by slicing into your flesh with their claws.” Spike's eyes went wide with terror. As they did, he let out a frightened squeak, which was enough to draw the attention of the beast and cause it to shuffle toward him menacingly. “And now,” said the Emperor casually, “I'm going to let you out of your cage, as you requested.” “What?!” shouted Spike. He watched as the old man calmly turned and walked out of the room, then closed the door behind him. As the darkness enveloped Spike, his attention was drawn to the only sense he had: sound. The low moan and the shuffle of the Technobeast's feet were causing his chest to go tight and his breathing to become shallow. He wanted to scream. He wanted Twilight. He wanted to go home. But reality hit him squarely in the chest as he heard the metal bars of his cage retract into the ceiling, getting the attention of the monstrous golem that occupied the room with him and making it shuffle toward him more briskly. Again, he tried to scream. But the only sound heard was the terrible noise of the beast that occupied the pitch black room with him, its shambling steps sending waves of terror coursing through his body, the fear gripping him and making him cower in the corner like a trapped animal. As he sat in the darkness waiting for the inevitable, a whispered plea escaped his scaly lips: Help me, Twilight. You're my only hope.