99.1 (namar13766, Masterweaver, Conceptulest, Hubris Plus)
The ponies stared at 'A.K. Yearling' in shock.
Derpy Do just smiled. "What? Dinky loves my stories!"
Sunset Shimmer just chuckled lightly, breaking the others from their trance. "Let's face it. This is nowhere near the weirdest thing the loops have thrown at us."
Twilight shook her head. "And it's not like they're not sisters sometimes. I think it's the Do thing."
"But--" Lyra waved. "But--"
"How come you never told me this?!" Rainbow demanded.
Derpy rolled her eyes. "Because because A) you never asked, and B) I knew you'd start fan-fillying about it."
Rainbow crossed her forelegs. "I'm not that bad."
The others stared at her.
"...anymore," continued Rainbow.
"Oh, if you wanna get to know my family, I could totally introduce you around!" Derpy grinned. "We're not as well known, but the Dos are almost as widespread as the Apples. Oh, I know, we should start with the Diamond Dog branch!"
"Wait, Diamond Dogs? How does that even-"
"Dun dunadun dun duuuuuuun!" came an enthusiastic shout just before a small furball bowled past them and towards the Everfree. "Puppy power!"
"'Rappy! Rait!" A larger hound called a moment later, stumbling after the pup. "It's rangerous!"
"Bye uncle Scooby!" Dinky waved cheerfully at the retreating canines. "I'll see you next week!"
99.2 (novusordomundi)
The Yellow Goddess look on in horror, as the Elder God of the Chaotic Hive Mind held the currently unconscious form of The Living And The Dead in front of it, a shield against any attack to allow the foul beast to pull itself together, both metaphorically and literally.
"Do YoU nOt HaVe ThE wIlL tO fInIsh mE oFf?" The Elder asked, staying behind his hostage.
"I would rather not have to hurt my friends..." The Yellow Goddess said quietly, her whips ready at her side.
This only brought some rather vicious smiles from what could only be considered faces, as flashes of unlight materialized into multiple bodies, each one recognizable as her friends and helpers in the keeping of the World Tree. She could name each one. The Eternal Trickster. The Lightning King. The Accidental Deity. The Victor's Reward. The Judge of the Underworld. They, and many more, were all twitching in pain, but with no sound escaping their lips.
"I hAvE nO sUcH pRoBlEmS iN dOiNg So. ThEy ArE iN mY pOsSeSsIoN nOw. AnD tHeRe Is NoThInG yOu CaN dO..."
"There is still one thing left I can do." The Goddess stated, a fierce determination in her eyes. "I can offer you something far greater in exchange for them."
"AnD wHaT cOuLd YoU oFfeR tHe VoId?" the creature asked.
"Myself."
"This sounds very familiar..." Twilight Sparkle said, looking at Rainbow Dash.
"Well, I did gain some inspiration from the baseline... " Dash admitted. "But I didn't want to just go 'Fluttershy curb-stomps over everything.'"
"There's nothing wrong with gaining some ideas from baseline..." Twilight said, hoof the her chin. "And there's no 'mysterious box that has to be opened' or 'stealing all magic' villain. In fact, this seems more of a 'mind-warping' type of villain..."
"That's the idea I had for the Void Realms." Dash said, before writing down something. "The challenge was to make them awesome villains to fight against. Evil, of course, but still awesome."
Twilight nodded, but a frown formed on her face as she looked through some papers. "But this seems like the bad guys win in the end. Unless that's the ending your going for..." Twilight got surprised when Dash gave out a small chuckle at this.
"Don't worry, Twilight. I only want to make it LOOK like the bad guys have won, but the epilogue shows that The Yellow Goddess purposely got herself into the Hive Mind of Chaos."
"Ah, your going for a 'beat it from the inside' theme for your next book, right?"
"Yeah." Dash grinned. "It's going to be so awesome..."
Twilight smiled, happy with how Dash was enjoying her hobby. Back in the baseline, she'd never pegged Dash to actually be this enthusiastic about writing. Just another way of Loopers changing and growing...
99.3 (Gym Quirk)
This day just keeps getting better and better, thought Darth Vader with an inward mental sigh.
Technically, it had been considerably longer than a standard day since his encounter with Kenobi, but the past thirty-odd hours had been very much of a piece since then. This latest humiliation was just the icing on the cake.
His intention had been for a high-speed fly-by of the fringe of the Rebel formation, and to try to get a better read on the undeniably powerful Force Locus at its core. Then that freighter had come out to meet him. He'd dodged its defensive fire, and then saw his instruments glitch out shortly before the world dissolved into sparkles. He also remembered his shock when Spikey-one's Force presence suddenly registered nearby.
His next sensation was the world reconstituting itself into a small room. He found himself sitting in a plain station chair in front of a small table holding a holoprojector. Across the table sat Kenobi, and behind the barabel, near a modest control console, stood the twi'lek jedi he'd noted in the Death Star hangar speaking quietly to a vaguely familiar gloss-white protocol droid about "pattern degradation in the transporter buffer" or some such nonsense. The faint vibration in the deck told him that he was aboard a ship under power, and he could sense a third powerful Force presence, albeit muffled.
"Hello again, Anakin," said Spike in a neutral tone. "I would apologize for abducting you so brazenly, but I doubt you would have accepted my invitation for a quiet talk. Please note that we are actively dampening the Force in this compartment in the hope you won't do anything foolhardy before hearing us out."
Even with the active suppression of his Force sense, Vader could tell that Spike was easily his match, and the twi'lek not that far behind. There was no easy way he could neutralize one before the other would take decisive action against him.
Curiosity won over anger. "Tell me how I came to be here in this room."
"I'm not sure you would believe me if I told you. So we can be civilized about this for now?"
"Under the circumstances, I see no advantage in attempting anything rash. Should conditions change, however..."
"Yes. I understand completely, and I suppose that would be my reaction if our positions were reversed."
"Very well. You said something about hearing you out. I am listening."
"Solo and Antilles report a large force of Imperial fighters mustering. They estimate close to two hundred," relayed Cadance.
"So much for Tarkin staying passive. Response plan Grek, major," Dodonna ordered his operations officer. "Solo is to regroup with the screen and punch through the Imperials if practicable, then proceed with attack plan Besh at her discretion. We'll send support when we can."
By the time the Imperial fighter force organized itself into its attack formation and advanced to a point roughly halfway between the Death Star and the Alliance task force, the rebel fighter screen had arrayed itself in a rough hemisphere focused around the direct path between the two and slowly advanced to meet them.
The Imperial attack was a homogenous group of 210 standard TIE fighters. Sixteen of these had been augmented with a pair of single-shot concussion missile tubes.
The thirty-six rebel X-wings had six proton torpedoes each. The fifty Y-Wings were armed with eight torpedoes. Even the twenty-two Z-95 Headhunters carried six concussion missiles apiece.
Thanks to Luke's coordination, there was no duplication of effort when the rebels started picking out their targets in the oncoming swarm. The initial volley of eighty-six torpedoes each had an individual objective. Despite frantic evasive maneuvers, fifty found their marks. The slightly shorter-ranged -- but optimized to counter fighters -- concussion missiles further whittled down the imperial numbers by another eighteen.
In under half a minute, the Imperials had suffered over thirty percent casualties and had its formation badly disrupted.
The paltry return salvo of twelve missiles scored ten hits, destroying one Z-95 and severely damaging three Y-Wings. One X-Wing found itself in a colorful confetti cloud courtesy of Apple Bloom and Clover's intervention in Armory 7. (There was simply no way to modify the ordnance in more than that one group of hangars.)
Alliance fighter doctrine regarding shields to increase survivability had proved itself again.
The less carefully planned follow-up volley of eighty torpedoes and twenty missiles accounted for an additional fifty-one TIEs. The ragged eight-missile Imperial response claimed one Y-Wing destroyed, one X-Wing damaged, and one Z-95 partially repainted in electric blue.
Then the two groups converged and devolved into the largest fighter-versus-fighter melee since the end of the Clone Wars.
Vader stared at the holodisplay of the battle.
Spike's admission that they had not anticipated hosting him quite so soon had been met with a mix of scorn and well-hidden amusement. "When you came screaming out to look us over, we couldn't pass up the chance to remove you from the field, and so here we are," said Spike.
Vader's reply had been cut off by the twi'lek. "First stage of the battle is about to start." She nodded to the droid, who worked at the control station. The holodisplay flickered to life to show the meeting of the two groups of fighters.
He only half-heard the halting narration provided by the 3P0 droid as he watched over half of the Imperial fighters wiped out.
"Not a pretty picture, is it?" asked Spike. His voice held no triumph or mockery, just honest sadness.
Under normal conditions, the antiquated rebel equipment and uneven levels of pilot training would be exploited by the more seasoned imperial starfighter pilots, despite having taken such punishing losses in the initial phase of the battle. However, the enhanced coordination and morale provided by Luke's Battle Meditation worked in the opposite direction, further sapping the morale of the already shaken imperials, and bolstering the confidence of the rebel pilots. Already holding a small numerical advantage, the sprawling dogfight was slowly tilting more and more in the rebels' favor.
Scootaloo and Wedge had hung back behind the rebel formation and did not make any contributions to the initial salvos; their munition loads were needed for a later stage of the attack and would not have significantly contributed to the attrition phase of the battle.
"Hey Wedge, you want to skirt the edge of that fur-ball? Or thin out the opposition a bit on the way to the main objective?" asked Scootaloo.
"Your call. I'm on your wing either way," was the response.
"Just do your best to keep up, then," she half-taunted before switching to the Alliance all-units channel. "Crusader lead to all units. We're coming through at 43 by 98. Try not to hit us by accident, fellas."
The Millennium Falcon roared toward a clump of six TIEs that somehow managed to maintain something resembling a formation in the chaos of frantic maneuvers. Three rapidly fell to Pansy's expert gunnery, a fourth to Cookie's less accurate fire, and the remaining two to Wedge's lasers.
"Copper lead to Crusader lead, thanks for the help," said the leader of the Y-Wing squadron that had been the recipient of the TIEs' attention.
"No problem. I'd love to stay and chat, but we've got an appointment with the Death Star."
The reports filtering into the Death Star comm center did not help Tarkin's temper in any way.
"Fifty percent losses in under a minute?" he asked incredulously.
"Yes sir. The rebels made heavy use of long-range weapons to attrit our fighters before closing. Survivor reports indicate that their missile targeting was especially well coordinated," reported the Fighter Group commander.
"We have two ships incoming," cut in a sensor technician. "Profile matches YT-1300 and X-Wing class."
"Just two?"
"Yes sir."
"How large a reserve do we have on hand?" Tarkin turned back to the fighter commander.
"Three understrength squadrons. Two of recon and one of surface-attack fighters. We sent every standard space combat version we had in the attack group," he responded after consulting a datapad.
"Well you'd best prepare some sort of reception for our guests."
Scootaloo fought down her panic as over twenty-five TIEs appeared on the sensor display. "Remember when I complained about how the Tatooine departure was too dull? I take it back again."
"It's not as bad as it looks," soothed Wedge over their private channel. "See those six fighters at the rear of the formation? I'll bet those are surface-attack models. Think TIE Bomber maneuverability without the beefed up spaceframe."
{{I would speculate that the remainder are Reconnaissance versions. A little faster that the standard, but only one laser cannon each,}} added Chewbacca.
"Besides, we don't have to kill them all, just blow past them and get to the trench. We're faster than they are," reminded Wedge.
The missile lock alarm started beeping by way of counterpoint.
"Oh yeah. Those surface-attack fighters can carry concussion missiles or proton torpedoes, but they need targeting help from a recon platform," amended Wedge apologetically.
"Four separate lock-on attempts," reported Apple Bloom. "Countermeasures standin' by."
"Gunners to point-defense mode," ordered Scootaloo.
Four proton torpedoes and two concussion missiles darted out to meet the two rebel ships. Half immediately fell victim to the enhanced electronic countermeasures available to the looping crews and went inert after losing their targets. One more was eliminated by defensive fire, and one lost to evasive maneuvers.
The remaining concussion missile targeted on the Falcon impacted with enough power to reduce aft shield strength by 25 percent. Too bad that wasn't one of the missiles Clover "fixed". Then again, canary yellow paint doesn't really work for the Falcon, thought Scootaloo.
Closing at maximum speed, there was barely time for the fighters arrayed against them to get off more than three or four shots each. To the credit of the imperial pilots, they did score enough hits to degrade the forward shields of each ship by one third.
Then they were through the Imperial formation. Pansy and Cookie did make their presence known by destroying two of the missile platforms in passing with Wedge accounting for a third.
"Re-routin' weapon power to shields," announced Apple Bloom.
{{Time to trench waypoint: Four minutes,}} added Chewbacca.
"How you doing, Wedge?" asked Scootaloo.
"Shields are a bit chewed up. No significant damage. Should be ready for the trench by the time we get there."
Leaving the TIEs in their exhaust, the two ships screamed toward the battle station.
"They're breaking and running!" announced a jubilant flight control officer.
A subdued cheer went around the rebel flagship command deck.
"Give me a count," ordered Dodonna as his staff returned their attention to their duties.
"Working on it now," replied the fighter group commander. "We have twenty-eight X-Wings, thirty-two Y-Wings, and fifteen headhunters combat capable. Units report twenty-five to fifty percent munition loads remaining. Damaged fighters are being taken aboard. Deploying S&R shuttles to pick up ejected pilots now."
"Remaining enemy force count is around twenty in pairs or singletons," added the fleet intelligence officer.
"Have the X-Wings and Y-Wings re-organize and move to support Solo. Keep the headhunters as combat space patrol. The task force will move to within sensor range of the Death Star," said the general.
Amid the flurry of acknowledgements, Cadance murmured into her headset. "Luke, I think Spike and Twilight could use you around now."
This sure beats the baseline, thought Wedge Antilles as he followed the Falcon down the familiar confines of the first Death Star trench. No time pressure, no Vader and his goons chewing up my aft shields...practically a leisurely stroll to the torpedo launch point.
His late model XJ series advanced snubfighter was the result of decades of improvements made to the T-65 X-Wing platform. The most relevant of those improvements right now was the much more powerful targeting sensors and computer systems. What he had called impossible with baseline equipment was merely difficult with tools from forty years later.
He made another not-really-necessary adjustment to his targeting computer. He had made this shot under much worse circumstances dozens of times.
Ahead, he watched the Falcon launch the first of several enhanced ion-pulse warheads at the turbolaser emplacements defending the exhaust port. Combining the electronics-disrupting qualities of a heavy ion cannon with an extended range concussion missile frame, they were an excellent tool for silencing defensive turrets at long range.
"Show's all yours, Wedge," declared Scootaloo as the final missile was sent on its way and the Falcon peeled up and out of the trench to discourage any fighters bold enough to consider interfering.
Chopping his throttle, Wedge watched the range to optimal launch point projected in his heads-up display (another improvement over the original targeting scope) count down slowly...1000 meters...700 meters...500 meters...250...100...50...
"Torpedoes away!" he called as three proton torpedoes -- the XJ squeezed a third torpedo launch tube onto the fighter -- flew down the trench. Pushing his throttle to maximum power, he watched two of the three pinkish-white globes entering the exhaust port; the third overshot and impacted on the surface beyond the target zone. Oh well. Looks like I owe Luke a round of drinks. "Two hits. Time to leave," he reported as he pulled up and away from the Death Star.
"Mission accomplished," said the protocol droid. "All units pulling back."
Vader had watched the rout of the imperial fighter force with growing rage. How could this rabble so easily defeat the cream of the imperial military?
The holoprojector's tactical view of the battle switched to what must be a live video feed from one of the vessels retreating from the Death Star. Vader was only passingly aware that the room's single door had opened and admitted an additional figure.
The image of the Death Star suddenly blossomed into an expanding sphere of debris as the hypermatter reactor overloaded.
All Force sensitives in the room winced as several hundred thousand imperial lives abruptly ceased.
The Sith Lord's rage suddenly gave way to resignation. Why can't I maintain my anger? Ever since that clash with Spike, he was unable to sustain the cold fury that was his link to the Dark Side. It was almost as if the reawakened memories of his life as a Jedi were actively fighting the training he had received from Darth Sidious.
He felt a growing sense of weariness that matched the expression on Spike's face. "Well, now what?" he asked.
"That's partially up to you," answered Spike. "Before we go much further, there are one or two things I would like for you to see." He turned and nodded at the protocol droid.
The holoprojector's scene changed to what appeared to be a Clone Wars era medical facility. Vader's attention was drawn to the figure being attended to by Spike and a medical droid. "Padme..." he whispered.
"You hurt her badly on Mustafar," said Spike, "but she was still alive when you and I parted. I took her to Polis Massa for treatment."
"Palpatine said she was...That I had..." Vader murmured.
"...There's good in him. Spike, there's still good..." Padme Amidala's last words reached across the years.
This had been one of the trickier bits of manipulation by Apple Bloom, Sweetie, Spike, and Twilight as they prepared for this meeting. Luke had baseline imagery of Padme's death form recordings made by Artoo. Spike's loop memories matched the recording with the exceptions of his substitution in the scene and Cadance's name. "Correcting" the holographic record to reflect the reality of this loop's backstory was, if not exactly difficult, a tedious project with several opportunities to get things badly wrong. Spike and Luke assuring them that the underlying truth would be sufficient for the task had not been entirely convincing.
"Two children...?" asked Vader. He turned to look at the new figure that had joined them.
"Hello, father," replied the young man, stopping his efforts to mask his Force presence. "I'm Luke Skywalker." The boy had a preternatural air of calm and maturity at odds with his obvious youth. He was also the strongest Force presence in the room.
"...and Cadance...Oh no..." The realization was nearly a physical blow to the black-armored figure.
"Yes," said Spike sadly. "That will be a major problem. As are most of your actions at the end of the Clone Wars and since."
Fury boiled within the Sith Lord as he came to his feet and he snarled at Spike. "Why are you doing this? Is this your idea of revenge?"
Spike did not move, although the twi'lek and Luke had tensed for action. "I want you to understand that Palpatine has been manipulating events since before we met on Tatooine. He orchestrated both sides the Clone Wars, killing tens of millions just to eradicate the Jedi. He fed your ambition and your resentment."
"The Jedi Council did not acknowledge my greatness! They held me back! YOU held me back! You kept me from the knowledge I needed to...save...Padme..." As suddenly as the outburst came, the rage subsided. He returned to his seat.
"Tell me. Has Palpatine ever followed up on his promises? Has he shared any of his knowledge regarding life extension with you? He's had twenty years to raid the Jedi Archives for 'forbidden knowledge'. Has he given you the smallest scrap?"
"There was always something else that needed to be done first. And with Padme dead, it no longer mattered..."
"I understand now that the strictures against emotional attachment fed your fear. Would it help in any way if I told you that I now feel that such dogmatic adherence to those beliefs was counterproductive? I've had nearly twenty years to meditate and reflect." Actually Spike had had several orders of magnitude more time to contemplate Jedi teachings and his relationship to the Force, but that wasn't exactly relevant. "I believe that the critical error of the Jedi Council was our outright rejection of emotion, since we believed it to be a path to the Dark Side. Instead, more emphasis should have been placed on managing one's emotions over allowing those emotions to rule you." He coughed. "Sorry, I guess the old lecturing habits are still there." For some reason he traded a look with the twi'lek.
"What do you want from me?" Vader's tone was almost sullen.
"I want you to let go of the hatred that you have been sustaining for the last two decades. I know that it's infinitely easier to say than to do, but that is what I want."
"Why?"
"Because I want my friend Anakin back. I want to help the man I called my brother become better than what he is now."
"How can you...? After Mustafar, we..." Vader trailed off into silence.
"Are you asking if I forgive you for what you did? I honestly can't say if I'm ready to...yet. But I want to believe that my old friend regrets having done those things and wants to make amends," said Spike softly.
"There is no way I could possibly..."
"Probably not. Does that mean you have no desire to do so?"
Vader did not answer.
"Master Kenobi, the task force is ready to jump into hyperspace," interrupted the droid, gesturing at the control console.
"Thank you," responded Spike. He returned his attention to his former padawan. "One more point: I won't speculate on how Padme would feel about who you are now, but based on the limited time I've spent in their company, I believe that she would be pleased at how your children have done so far. Perhaps you might be interested in getting to know them as well."
The barabel stood. "I realize that you have a lot to think about. I want to make it clear that while you are a prisoner, you will be treated properly unless you make it necessary to employ more forceful restraints...so to speak." He turned to the twi'lek. "Can you handle him for a few minutes? I'd like a word with Luke."
"No problem, Spike." She cracked her knuckles and focused a cool gaze on the Sith Lord. "If worse comes to worse, I can put him back in the transporter."
This would be a whole lot easier if we had a complete set of Elements. If they could purge Nightmare Moon, they could probably do something useful to Vader, thought Spike as he and Luke entered the corridor. "So, what do you think?"
"It's a good start. You got through to him at least twice. I can sense inner turmoil similar to what I felt from him on the second Death Star during the baseline. I've managed to talk him around on my own a few times, and we can double-team him in the next session."
"Given how recent Alderaan is, I doubt it's worth trying to bring in Cadance."
"No. It took Leia years to come to terms with it in the baseline. After only a few days? No way."
The background of thrum of the engines ramped up briefly as the ship made the jump to lightspeed.
Spike stretched. "Four hours to Yavin. Based on the tactical view we were watching, I will say that I'm impressed with how the battle turned out."
"Yeah. That was one of the smoother near-baseline Death Star takedown I've seen."
"Near-baseline?"
"Remind me to tell you about the time we were invaded by the entire Borg Collective and both Vorlon and Shadow fleets. Or one time Ranma visited and decided to dust off the contents of his pocket..."
Epilogue -- Several weeks later
In the space between Yavin IV and the gas giant it orbited, Scootaloo struggled to keep her targeting reticle on the opposing fighter. "Not making it easy for me, Pansy," she grumbled.
"I thought that was the point of the excercise," replied the pegasus.
The X-wing performed a series of turns that any experienced pilot would have declared to be impossible for any mere flesh-and-blood being.
"Now that's just being self-indulgent," muttered Scootaloo. Her threat alarm started beeping, so she threw her ship into a corkscrewing evasive turn. To her annoyance, not only did the alarm continue its warning, but her rear shield indicator began showing a rapid drain. The fighter's systems shut down and the flight computer flashed a "You have been destroyed" message as Pansy's X-wing flew past.
"No fair, Pansy! You don't need to worry about acceleration compensators," she complained as she restored her ship's systems from simulated "death".
"If you're not cheating, you aren't trying hard enough," retorted the founder. "It's not as if you haven't killed me enough times in that prototype TIE."
Scootaloo grinned. Let Spike keep Vader's lightsaber as a souvenir. I've got his personal fighter with a cool custom paint job.
Her only concern was whether she had enough room for it in her subspace pocket. Maybe she wouldn't try to pack the Falcon in there before the loop ended.
"Welcome back to the land of the conscious," said Twilight as she looked at the medical center's sensor readouts. "How are you feeling? I did my best for you, but there may still be some lingering problems that I wasn't able to completely clear up."
"Don't worry about it. It's a vast improvement over where I was before. So this is your native form?" asked her patient.
The lavender alicorn nodded. "Close enough. I normally don't bother with the wings, but I'm able to channel more power this way, and you certainly needed everything I could give."
"I'm still a bit surprised at your generosity. I would have placed conditions on providing what you freely offered."
"I prefer to think of it as a gesture of goodwill. And I suppose the supremely suspicious would call it an inducement toward a particular behavior pattern. But I mostly did it as a favor for Luke."
"I see. And Spike?"
"It was his idea. He and Luke are waiting outside if you want to talk to them."
"Maybe in a while." The figure in the recovery bed sighed. "Aren't you concerned that once I recover sufficiently, I'll go back to the old ways?"
"Are you worried about that happening?"
A faint nod. "Yes."
"Do you want it to happen?"
A shake of the head. "No."
"Then I'm satisfied that between Luke, Spike, myself, and especially you, we can keep things under control."
Anakin Skywalker lifted his arms and examined the nearly life-like prosthetic hands. He flexed the fingers experimentally, then touched the tips together. "Impressive work. I especially appreciate the tactile sense."
"We can try biological regeneration of your limbs later if you want; it would have added several months of physical therapy to your recovery, and I didn't want to add more complexity on top of the work on your internal organs. Getting you out of that life-support suit was the priority," explained Twilight. "Don't be surprised if you tire easily and find yourself short of breath after even mild exertion for the next year or so. It's going to take a while to get your strength up, even with the Force."
"I'm not complaining. Frankly, I could probably use the quiet time."
Emperor Palpatine sat uneasy in his private sanctum, facing, but not really seeing, the holographic display depicting the galaxy he ruled.
Ever since the loss of the Death Star and disappearance of Darth Vader four months ago, whispers in the Force had brought him to believe that a dire threat to his position was gathering.
His brooding was interrupted as he felt a well-known Force presence nearby. The private side door opened and he heard a familiar mechanical breathing.
"You took long enough getting back here. What happened? Where have you been?" he snapped without turning to face his guest.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," came the reply. Wait. The voice is all wrong. He spun his chair to face two intruders.
One was a barabel in jedi robes. Kenobi? How could he...? But his attention was drawn to the human of the pair.
It was Anakin Skywalker. Twenty years older and bearing many scars, but recognizably the jedi knight he had renamed Darth Vader following Mace Windu's death. He was supporting himself with a stout cane, and on a lanyard around his neck was a portable audio playback device from which the iconic respiration sounds emanated.
"Treachery!" snarled Palpatine, launching bolts of Force Lightning toward the two. Kenobi effortlessly caught the streams of darkside energy in his outstretched hands and compressed them into a sparking ball before sending it back toward its source. The emperor found himself the recipient of a face-full of his own lightning.
"We regret to inform you that Darth Vader died during the action that destroyed the Death Star," continued the former Sith Lord.
Before Palpatine could recover his wits and lash out with the Force again or summon his guards, Kenobi took some sort of comlink from his belt and brought it to his lips, saying, "Three to beam up."
The world dissolved into sparkles.
(Detective Ethan Redfield)
From the Looping Journals of Sunset Shimmer:
I awoke to a ruined stone city covered in snow and filled with unsavory characters. I checked my memories, which seemed to contradict my current situation. Apparently I was supposed to be a first year high school student in Tokyo, but I was playing a druid in the online game, Elder Tales, in a guild called Crescent Moon Alliance.
The stone city I awoke in was named Susukino after the red light district in Hokkaido, Japan. It was a dark city, known for the guild that ran it. Brigandia was a brutal guild before the game began, and things only got progressively worse under their rule. Following narrative causality, I assumed incorrectly that the goal of the loop was dislodging Brigandia from the city. Unfortunately, my class was mostly for healing and only knew a few attack spells and creature summonings. Furthermore, my character was at a low level, not even level 40 or 50, while the top players were level 90. Still, I had advantages, including several previous loops of combat experience. Furthermore, I was a looper. The menu allowed several upgrades to my character that put me well above anyone in Brigandia.
While I was searching through my menu and before I could try assaulting Brigandia's Guild Hall, I was approached by an anthropomorphic cat, who introduced himself as Nyanta. He played a Swashbuckler as his main class in the game with a chef subclass. Apparently, chefs were the only class that could make food with taste, meaning everything tasted like dull crackers without even salt.
Anyway, he had come to know everyone in Susukino over the course of the loops, but didn't recognize me and figured me for a looper. Nyanta was the perfect gentleman, courteous and always willing to give good advice and protect the innocent. I shared with him my journeys through the multiverse. He shared with me a few tips and tricks on how to interact with others, how a word in one circle and some encouragement in another could cause events that would bring down Brigandia without raising a single blade.
We spent a week in Susukino, taking apart the remnants of Brigandia. After the trash was removed, we helped the locals in setting up a governing body to protect the players and the NPCs, otherwise known as the People of the Land, or 'landers' for short. A week later, Nyanta's guildmaster arrived by griffon mount. His name was Shiroe, the anchor of the Elder Tales loops. Upon first glance, he didn't seem special or even important, like someone who'd fade into the back of a crowd, but overlooking him would be a mistake. He's a strategist, able to predict his opponents long term moves and counter appropriately. One of Nyanta's guild mates, Naotsugu, bragged that Shiroe could predict his opponents moves over a 30 second interval with a 1% margin of error.
We made our way to Akiba, a starter city, where my guild celebrated my safe return with a massive party. In some ways, Crescent Moon reminded me of Equestria, a guild full of friends who considered each other family and whose purpose was to support the other adventurers in Elder Tales. As my thoughts turned to Equestria, I couldn't help but long for home, for my dear friend Twilight. Maryelle approached me and asked what was wrong? It was then I realized tears were freely flowing down my cheeks, and I excused myself from the party.
Shiroe followed after me to see if I was OK. He seemed to see through me as he asked when I had last been in my home loop. After I had calmed down a bit, he started sharing his adventures with the Equestrian loopers. A friend of his was replaced once by Pinkie and they had an adventuring party that lasted all loop. He had also met Twilight and another Equestrian looper, Trixie, in a Hogwarts fused loop. Finally, there was a massive fused loop where most of the Equestrian Loopers were present.
It was at that massive fused loop that Elder Tales was declared a training loop, where one could work on developing their skills. He offered to spend to loop teaching me anything I wanted, and I decided to take him up on his offer.
So much time has passed since the last entry. The first lesson I learned after Crescent Moon's celebration was never drink anything Shiroe gave you. He likes to test his alchemy skills by creating new appearance changing potions for his fellow loopers. Nothing harmful, but I was a bit shocked to be a unicorn once again. He offered to change me back, but I declined...at least for now. Besides, it was a great opportunity to learn how to wield a keyblade as a pony.
After being human for so many loops, it was strange being a pony. No fingers to scratch my back, everything had to be held by teeth or magic, occasionally I wondered how I got by as a pony? And then there were the stares from those I passed in the streets. Eventually, they stopped after the story of my tragic alchemy accident trapped me in this body circulated around town. I think Shiroe was behind that, but I never asked.
Besides my keyblade training, I immersed myself in studying with a vigor that would make Twilight proud. I learned about economics, diplomacy and interaction with others, how to own and operate a store, Celestia I was even tutored in real world engineering by Shiroe. Twilight probably loved it here, an entire loop designated to teaching and learning.
Events came and went like a hurricane. Shiroe took Akiba by storm, forming the Round Table Council to govern the affairs of Akiba. Before a month had passed, the People of the Land invited Akiba to join the League of Freedom Cities Eastal, a council of Nobles that rule the Eastern mainland of what would be Japan. I forgot to mention, the world of Elder Tales was designed like the hub human world, only half as big, so Akiba was located on the landmass that would be Japan.
Shiroe offered to have me come along and gain some practical skills in diplomacy, but I declined. As a unicorn, I figured my presence would make too many waves in certain circles. Instead, I traveled with Maryelle, my guildmaster, to the Sandleaf Peninsula for some more combat training. While there, I made a couple new friends: Minori and Touya, twins part of Shiroe's guild, Rundelhouse Code or Rudy for short, a sorcerer not affiliated with any guild, and Isuzu, a bard from Crescent Moon.
It was during one of our training sessions that goblins attacked the Peninsula while Sahuagin, amphibious monsters similar to goblins, attacked the beaches of Choushi, the headquarters of our training regiment. I decided to cut loose and use all my looping skills to hold them off. It led to several awkward questions between myself and my fellow adventurers especially when I flooded the beach with fire jutsu, but we drove them off.
We spent the next few weeks defending Choushi. Apparently, this was a regular event in the game world called Return of the Goblin King. Rudy nearly died defending Choushi, which scared us when we discovered he was a lander. For Adventurers like me and Shiroe, dying wasn't permanent, but for landers, it was.
After we drove off the monsters, We held a celebration at Eastal's Headquarters, with with a ballroom dance and food. There, I decided to leave Crescent Moon Guild for Shiroe's Log Horizon. Maryelle was very understanding, though seemed a bit sad.
Things quieted down after that, with Shiroe taking me on occasional training trips and teaching me as much as he could about strategy. I would probably never be up to his level, I did gain a battlefield sense, allowing me to assess my situation in battle in an instant and determine when it would be best to switch tactics and keychains.
The loop came to an end a few months later, the last moments were spent just outside the Depths of Palm, a dungeon in the game, on a cliff overlooking the rising sun. It was one of Shiroe's favorite spots. As the loop came to an end, I knew I would miss Theldesia, but maybe, just maybe, this next loop would take me home. The rising sun filled me with hope.
99.4 (Grinnerz)
Waking up while in the process of waking up was seldom any fun Vinyl decided.
Waking up to Octavia making a face and pulling down her eyelids even less so.
"Ahhh!" One good shove caused the grey filly to be sent to the floor. Only then did Vinyl realize her sometimes rival/roommate/friend/stranger/special-somepony was, like herself, currently all of seven years old. A fact which was driven home by her immediately tearing up.
"Momma! Scratchy pushed me out of bed and now my shoulder hurts!" And with that, young Octavia ran from the room to summon the wrath of their mother... Lyra.
'Aw crud. I don't know if I should hope she's Awake or not. ...Leaning towards not.'
"Vinyl! Why did you do that to your sister?"
99.5 (LordCirce)
"I've been working on this for centuries, and you build a sonic screwdriver in three Loops!"
Vinyl shrugged. "It's all in the subharmonics."
Sweetie giggled, then whispered to Scootaloo, "That explains it. Bloom is tone deaf."
Applebloom bit into her wrench in frustration.
99.6 (Kalimaru)
Twilight Awoke over the Tale of the Two Sisters as usual. What wasn't usual was that it was a video game instead of a book. Levitating it with her magic, Twilight brought the game back to her annex and pulled the necessary equipment from her pocket; A Ponystation 2, a liquid plasma Seapony TV, and a small generator to provide the electricity. Hooking it all up, Twilight began the game and was greeted with Celestia's wobbling voice.
"A thousand... yeah, no, a thousand years ago... Something... really bad happened! That's right, really bad! And now Twilight Spackle, uh, I mean, Sparkles, I need you to... do something! That's right, do-urp!-do something! Stop putting your face in those dirty books you keep under your bed and, and and and... go on a quest! Yeah! My sister's going to be there, so prepare your best-hork!-best warrior persons. There'll be magic. You love it. Honest."
Sighing, Twilight facehoofed lightly. "This is why Celestia is allowed near Grog from Monkey Island. She keeps making these 'Finite Fictionies' games. I am so going to get Berry for this."
The two fillies and the tortoise stood in a triangle, looking around. Their arrival vessel, mared by First Mate Berry 'Sea Legs' Punch and Captain Ditzy Do, sat atop the only pine tree for seven thousand miles and was on fire. Seeing as both captain and first mate were enjoying pineapple drinks (from a nearby Watermelon tree somehow) further down the beach, the children and accidental petnapping victim had been left to their own devices.
Looking around, Ruby spoke first.
"THANK FOR THE VACATION, DADDY AND MISS TWILIGHT!"
Hiding behind a nearby tree, Discord sighed. "What a cute kid." Behind him, Twilight fumed from her interrupted revenge pranking.
Standing within Apple Bloom's testing complex, Gilda and Apple Bloom looked upon the small knife with both trepidation and anticipation. Turning to Gilda, Bloom removed her 3-D glasses. "Are you sure you want this thing? It's already cutting everything around it down one dimension by contact. I don't really want to know what it'll do if you stab someone with it."
Gilda smiled. "Oh, I won't be stabbing anyone with it. It's a matter of political escalation. They bring the rude words, I bring the claws. They bring the battle-axes, I bring superior flight training. They bring the Griffon Armed Forces, armed with battle-axes and curse words, I bring the 2-D Knife of Extraplanar Reduction. Simple, really."
Any further explanation was ceased when a rather haggard looking Twilight busted down the door. Walking past Gilda and Bloom, she smiled that 'off her rocker' smile of hers. "How are you guys? Great? That's great. Say, I'll just be borrowing this. One moment." Grabbing the Razor in her magic, Twilight made an about-face and walked back out through the door. Her voice could be heard fading into the distance. "Oh Berryyyyyyyyyyy~, I've got something for you to put in your Grog right here!"
"No, Twilight! No!" *stab* "No! You turned my Grog into battery acid!"
Still in the lab, Bloom turned to Gilda as the griffon shrugged. "Ehh, that's kinda what I thought would happen."
Behind them, the manifestation of Occam nodded. "Me too."
99.7 (FanOfMostEverything)
Once more, Twilight Awoke reading the tale of the two royal sisters. A quick once-over confirmed that nothing was out of the ordinary this Loop.
Then Nyx materialized next to her, slumped over on one side. "Mom, we need to talk."
Twilight bolted upright and immediately started checking Nyx for injuries. "Where does it hurt? Or is it numbness? Paralysis? Spinal injury?"
"Mom!" A dark aura surrounded the unicorn and gently but firmly gave Nyx some space. "I'm fine, really. I just having trouble remembering how to walk."
"Remembering how to... Did you Loop as the TARDIS?"
"Hang on." Both ponies vanished in a burst of antilight just as three Academy students crested the hill.
Another burst, and they were in Twilight's annex. Nyx was still limp from the neck down. "Sorry. Didn't want to raise any uncomfortable questions."
"No, no, that's fine." Twilight shook her head. "So, it's easier to teleport than walk right now?"
A pony-sized Spike looked over the edge of an Iris Drake novel, smiled, and said, "Hi, by the way."
Mother and daughter chorused "Hi, Spike." Nyx continued, "To answer your question, Mom, yes. And no, I didn't Loop as the TARDIS. No way I'd be as coherent as I am right now if I had." One of her hooves twitched. "Ah! Progress!"
Twilight knelt next to her. "So what were you? I'm assuming you were somehow discorporate."
"Yeah. I'm not sure what Loop it was, though. It might be new." Nyx winced. "Ow. Not the wing I meant to stretch."
Twilight telekinetically shifted her onto her belly, limbs sprawled out. It was graceless, but stable. "Better?"
"Much, thank you. Do you have anything in the Hub fiction database about a place called Theros?"
"It's not ringing any bells." Twilight pulled a PADD from her pocket. "Let's see... huh. Magic: the Gathering. I'm guessing it wasn't like the Yu-Gi-Oh Loops."
Nyx had most of her legs under her by this point. She listed a bit, but was staying upright. "Not at all, though it does explain why I never saw an Anchor. Probably never went to that plane." She took a deep breath "Okay, so imagine taking descriptions of each god in the Greek pantheon, running them through a shredder, and then reassembling them blind."
She found herself in a very tight hug. She could feel Twilight shivering against her. "Please, please, please tell me none of them were as bad as Zeus."
Nyx hugged back as best she could. "Not at all. No bulls, no swans, no showers of gold. They thought they were above that kind of thing."
Twilight sagged with relief. "Oh, thank cedar. So, were you some sort of nascent proto-divine archetype or something?"
"No, I was Olympus. Sort of. For one, I was still called Nyx. For another, I was the night sky." Nyx scrunched up her face at the memories. "There really aren't words for what it was like."
"I have been a constellation," Twilight noted. She smirked. "Usually when you're trying to rule Equestria without burning it to the ground."
"Oh, there were constellations. There were entire ecosystems of the things. It was like a rumbling stomach, only all the time and through my whole body. And the gods were..." Nyx frowned. "Basically, imagine a family of fourteen, none of whom particularly like each other, forced to live in the same house. Now imagine being the house."
A brush floated towards them, carried by Twilight's magic. As she began brushing Nyx's mane, she asked, "How long?"
"Several years. I think. All the family drama blended together after a while, and only one being seemed to notice I was self-aware. Still, Kruphix was a pretty nice guy. I think he's Loop-aware, but he likes seeming all cryptic and aloof." Nyx gave a smile, but it quickly wilted. "Then Xenagos showed up. If I was a house, then he was breaking and entering. And declaring himself the family's newest member."
The brushing halted. "He tried to ascend?"
Nyx shook her head. "Not in a way that put the Loop at risk. The gods were powerful, but they were more like Discworld gods with a lot of belief than admins. Anyway, he basically became Dionysius. Or a really nasty Variant Pinkie. He did declare himself god of revels."
Twilight shuddered at the thought. "How'd that go?"
"Well, civilization risked collapse due to party overload, and in that world, gods can't kill each other, so they got a mortal to do it." Nyx giggled. "And that was when I found out I was a genius loci. You should've seen the looks on the gods' faces when I started helping her."
Spike looked back up from his book. "You helped commit deicide?"
"No!" Nyx slumped. "But I didn't stop it either. If I knew more about what I could do and how apotheosis worked there, I might have been able to find some nonlethal option, but..."
Twilight nuzzled her. "I'm sure you made the best choice you could."
Spike moved to his quasi-sister's side, nodded, and gave her a hug.
Nyx sniffled and smiled. "Thanks. Both of you. And I know I made the right choice afterwards. The gods were almost soiling themselves after they saw one of their own die. I made sure Elspeth got out of there as soon as she could." She stood shakily and puffed out her chest. "The heavens were thundering with the Royal Canterlot Voice when the Loop ended. I put everything you taught me into that lecture, Mom."
99.8 (yannoshka)
In the wide, wide multiverse embodied with the Yggdrasil - the tree that is not, the living computer, the metaphysical bag that holds the entirety of everything and is simultaneously both within and without itself to the point that Schroedinger's cat put itself out of it's undetermined misery...
A pony Woke up. To complicate things the pony did not, as a matter of fact Wake up as a pony. Well, yes it did, but the looping entity did not Wake up as it's own definition of pony.
Rainbow Dash spit out the bridle in disgust and glared at the mismatched form of a dracoequus that was for some reason known only to the spirit of Chaos himself, walking despondently upon his eyebrows and had until the moment she spat the bridle out been dragging her along. As in literally dragging her along since she apparently had seven legs, all but one of which were pointing inverse to how the equine legs were usually positioned.
Being an element of loyalty, and quite near to him, she did not even have to do anything to know that he was also awake.
"What. The. Holly. Bush. Discord?" She growled. But no sooner had her words left her mouth that she realized something further. However absurd the situation they found themselves, all she could feel of Discord was... detachment. No amusement, nor curiosity nor sadness nor anything really. Just a metaphysical sorta gap.
And somewhere deep within herself a small voice she rarely listened to was frenetically waving around hoping against hope that for once it would be heeded to.
"Oh. You're Awake." More than anything Discord sounded like a masculine Maude Pie. And that should've been scary.
Dash made a neat note to self to examine the little voice in closer detail - she was definitely not acting, well, thinking at least, like herself - but for the time being she contented herself with answering Discord's flat statement with an inquiring raise of an eyebrow that Spock would have approved.
"This loop my sense of humor literally ran away from me shortly after I got freed from petrification. And I only Woke up after the fact myself. So, now you my Loyal steed and companion and myself are on an absurd quest to hunt it down and set back what once went wrong... Or right... It's all kinda relative... Meh..." Discord continued in his should-be-quite-creepy monotone.
Meanwhile in another part of relatively (in all the dreadfully ambiguity that the principle in question entailed) the same space-time continuum, a selfsentient ratio of circle's circumference to it's diameter contemplated the chromatic resonance of prismatic spectrum near the frequency of 484 terahertz, along the wavelength close but not quite 620 nanometers. For some inexplicable reason it was certain balloons were supposed to be involved. And maybe cupcakes.
99.9 (Gym Quirk)
"I appreciate your help with this, Apple Bloom."
"Ain't'cha gettin' just a mite obsessed, Twilight? I mean you've already got Shining's damage transfer spell set up with Dragon Peak as its sink. And now you want me to adapt this spare Defiant class deflector shield array as an outer layer? Why not just hide it with a cloaking device?"
"It's the principle of the thing! There has to be a way to protect my tree!"
One Tirek fireball later...
"Apple Bloom? You've got a spare cloaking device, right? I don't seem to have one at the moment."