//------------------------------// // Meet the Royalty // Story: Friendship is Grievous // by Snake Staff //------------------------------// Grievous’ hand moved a fraction of an inch closer to the five lightsabers attached to his waist. “Who exactly are these two “other alicorn princesses”?” he asked. “And when do you expect them?” This smelled of some kind of trap to him, although for the life of him he couldn’t imagine a civilization as primitive as the one outside putting up much of a fight if he went against them. “Princesses Celestia and Luna,” Twilight answered. “My mentor, and her sister, respectively. And they should be here in next few minutes. Canterlot isn’t far from here.” Grievous blinked, again caught by surprise. Princess Celestia? Hadn’t this little one sworn to her as if she were some kind of deity not a few moments before? She was also a ruler of this land? Did these creatures worship their leaders like gods? It was not unheard in some cultures. Grievous snorted beneath his mask at the very idea. Every Kaleesh knew that an essential part of ascending to join the ranks of the gods was to die a warrior’s death in battle. The living could not become divine without that essential ingredient. To worship mere fleshy beings was blasphemy. But the cyborg had not been so long in the wider galaxy without being able to avoid getting into religious disputes every time the subject came up. Instead, Grievous asked the next most obvious question. “Canterlot?” he said. “Our capital city,” Twilight responded. “You can see it from here if you want.” “Show me,” Grievous said. Nodding obligingly, Twilight led him to a nearby window, and pointed a hoof in the direction of the nearby mountain range. Grievous had to bend down to get a good look through it. “Do you see it?” she asked. “On that mountain right there, most of the ways up.” Grievous looked carefully, and he did indeed see a cluster of lights on the mountain. Peering more closely, he could make out the outlines of buildings and what looked to be a rather large castle. It was situated on good, defensible terrain, although to his professional eye it looked to be sticking too far out of the mountain – making it too vulnerable to being collapsed with explosives or orbital bombardment. A much better way would have been to carve the city of the rock itself. Still, Grievous felt his respect for these creatures increase by the slightest fraction. “I do indeed see it,” he said, standing back to his full height. “But how will they get here? That looks to be far greater distance than a mere few minutes. And how did you get message to them so quickly, if they are so far away?” “Well, to answer your second question: Spike,” she nudged the dragon that was still clutching her legs and trying to keep clear of the cyborg. “Can send letters back and forth between Princess Celestia and I using his magical fire breath.” “Is that so?” Grievous eyed the nervous little drake. He had seen teleportation before, notably when the witch Mother Talzin had used it to escape his blades the first time they had met, so accepted that as a plausible answer. “And as to your first: they’ll be taking their chariots. It’s not such a long ride that way.” “Chariots?” asked Grievous, skeptically. “Flying chariots,” Twilight hastened to add. “They’re magic.” The idea that this planet might have some analogue to repulsorlift technology, even if it invoked sorcerous means, sounded like good news to Grievous. Perhaps if he could get his hands on one such device… He brooded on the idea while Twilight continued. “Anyway, I’m sorry about the lateness of their visit. I’m sure you must be tired from your rough landing, which is why I wanted to wait until tomorrow before introducing you,” she glared at Spike again. “But once they heard what had happened they were really eager to come and see you right away. That won’t be a problem, will it?” she asked, looking nervous. Grievous waved a clawed hand dismissively. “Not at all, little Twilight.” The faster he could meet the rulers of this place, the more quickly he could get about the real business of getting off of it. The lavender alicorn’s face showed relief. “I’m glad to hear it, and I apologize again for the lateness of this meeting.” “No need,” Grievous answered. “Be that as it may, my home is your home, until we find something else. Can Spike and I get you or your droids anything? Vegetables? Fruit? Water? Cider? Baths? Change of cape?” she hazarded a guess. “Nothing,” Grievous replied, his mind mostly elsewhere. “Nothing?” Twilight repeated. “Nothing,” said Grievous, with slightly more emphasis. “Well, ok.” Twilight hesitated for a few seconds, rubbing one foreleg behind the other. “Uh, can I make a request, then?” “Go on.” “Well, Mr. General Grievous sir, I’ve got this hobby that I like to do… I like to sketch interesting creatures and… well…” “You wish to sketch myself and my battle droids,” Grievous finished for her. She nodded eagerly. “Can I?” “How do you even use a sketchbook?” Grievous asked, pointing idly at her hooves. Her horn glowed purple again, but this time a similar aura encased a nearby vase, lifting it off the ground. “That’s how,” she said. “Interesting,” said Grievous, actually meaning it for once. “So… can I sketch you?” Grievous sighed. Might as well keep the local leader friendly. “Yes, you may.” Twilight clapped her front hooves together and made a rather squeaky noise. She turned and rushed toward the door, but paused and turned back around halfway there. “Are you sure your droids won’t mind? They’ve been awfully quiet this whole time.” “That is because they don’t think,” Grievous answered. “I make all the decisions. They just do what they’re told. I assure you that they are quite incapable of minding much of anything.” “Alright,” Twilight said, opening the door. “I’ll be right back. Stay right here.” She rushed off, Spike close behind her. Grievous snorted. It wasn’t as if he had anywhere to go. The next fifteen minutes or so were a tedious affair of standing in one place and trying to resist the urge to kill that which annoyed him. In this case, it happened to be a rather overenthusiastic alicorn with a sketchpad and an irritatingly cheerful attitude. She spent a few minutes at each angle of the cyborg general: drawing, then erasing, and then drawing it again until the image was just right to her detail-oriented mind. However, the result, Grievous had to admit, was actually a rather professional-looking portrait of himself from several different angles. Of course, a hologram image capture would be far superior, but at very least she didn’t heap a further humiliation onto a day already full of them. Still, when she finally moved on to the first of his droids, the sole MagnaGuard of the group, Grievous could honestly say he was relieved. She went about her task with them with seemingly equal relish and attention to detail. It was such that by the time Spike returned from wherever he had been hiding, she was only halfway through drawing the commando droids. Spike swallowed nervously, looking at Grievous once before fixing his eyes on Twilight. “Uh,” he said. “The princesses are h-here.” “They are?!” Twilight’s head shot up out of her book with astonishing speed. “Well, don’t leave them sitting there, bring them in!” “I’m afraid we may be little bit ahead of you, Princess Twilight,” came the sound of soft, motherly voice. “I hope you don’t mind.” The tallest inhabitant of this world Grievous had yet seen strode through the door Spike had left open behind himself. She was white – not the bone white of Grievous’ armor, but a far softer and less fearsome color – and the mane on her head was a soft rainbow color, flowing gently in some invisible breeze. Grievous was instantly reminded of the tassels on Mother Talzin’s clothing, which had done something similar. His hands moved just the slightest bit closer to the lightsabers on his belt. Behind her came a second, slighter smaller creature. A dark blue fur to her sister’s white, her mane also flowed with ethereal energies, though it resembled the night sky more than a rainbow. Both of these newcomers, Grievous noted, had both wings and horns, as Twilight did. It would seem his guess of this planet being a caste-based society, similar to the Geonosians, was correct after all. “Princess Celestia! Princess Luna!” Twilight tossed her sketches and writing implements away. “Not at all! Come in! Come in!” Twilight rushed up to greet the newcomers. Grievous noted that the interaction between the white one, who was apparently Celestia, and Twilight were somewhat more familiar and relaxed than between Twilight and Luna. Then again, if the white one had indeed been Twilight’s teacher, that was only to be expected. He could not entirely say he was friends with Count Dooku, who had taught him the art of lightsaber dueling, but he was certainly more at ease in his presence than most. Quickly, though, the attention of the group of three alicorns turned away from each other and more towards the alien visitor in their midst. “Greetings,” said Celestia with a polite nod. “I am Princess Celestia of Equestria, and I would bid you welcome.” The darker one – Luna, Grievous reminded himself – was somewhat more forward. She walked straight up to Grievous and extended a hoof. He was somewhat hesitant, but Grievous thought he knew where this was going. When he grasped it, she shook with surprising vigor a being so much shorter than Grievous. “Welcome!” she said, enthusiastically. “Visitor from beyond the stars! We are Princess Luna of Equestria! You simply must tell us all about where you come from and what’s like there! Uh…” she hesitated. “After we are through here, of course.” With that, she joined the line of princesses facing Grievous; Celestia in the center, Luna on her right, Twilight on her left. Grievous doubted they didn’t already know who he was, but going through the motions even when there was no reason to was half of diplomacy. “I am General Grievous,” he said levelly, “Of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. I thank you for your hospitality.” The two newcomers look slightly nervous when he named himself. “So it is true,” said Celestia. “You are a general in an army?” “Supreme Commander of the Separatist Droid Army,” Grievous answered, seeing no reason to lie about it. “I see,” she continued. “May I ask what your intentions are for our world?” “Nothing,” he said honestly. “My presence here is a mere unfortunate accident. My only wish is to leave you as soon as possible and return to the war.” “The war?” Luna was the one who spoke up this time. So they really hadn’t heard of any of it. Grievous wasn’t surprised, but he was still a little disappointed. “The Clone Wars they call it,” he explained. “Named for the cloned soldiers comprising the Grand Army of the Galactic Republic. I lead the droid armies of the Separatist Alliance in our bid to be free of the Republic once and for all. It is a stagnant, corrupt institution infested with parasites and fools. It claims to bring justice to the galaxy, but all it and its Jedi guardians bring is ruin!” Grievous noticed that his fists, unconsciously, had clenched some time in his short speech. “You feel strongly about this war, do you?” Celestia asked, gently. “You would as well if your homeworld had been decimated, your people forced into poverty and servitude, and all your accomplishments brought to nothing, all for the crime of daring to defend yourself!” Grievous snarled. The two larger alicorns looked at each other nervously again, before Luna took the initiative to speak up. “Would you mind sharing a bit of your-” “No!” Grievous cut her off, firmly. “My history is what defines me, what makes me whom I am today. I do not share it with those who have no right to know it. I’m certain you can understand that.” There was a pause as all parties collected their thoughts. Grievous, when no one else was, decided to take the initiative. “So,” he said. “Now that I have told you who I am, perhaps you might tell me something of who you are, and what this place is.” “Luna and I are sisters, and together we are the rulers of Equestria, the nation where the three tribes of ponies have come together as one,” Celestia answered. “I do not know how things are on your planet, but our nation is not the only one in this world. There are others, beyond our control.” Grievous would have frowned, if he could have. That made things more difficult. “We also raise the moon,” Luna said, gesturing to herself. “And the sun,” she pointed to her sister. “Each night and day.” Grievous couldn’t help it. Forget his emotions mere moments ago. Forget the niceties of diplomacy. He’d heard many absurd things since he had arrived here, but that had to be the most ridiculous claim he had ever heard… ever! He burst out laughing. “Aha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!” he roared in his booming mechanical voice. “Aha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha-” Grievous’ laughter was interrupted by a coughing fit, a reminder of the limitations of his cybernetic body. He doubled over, wracked with coughing and wheezing, his lungs struggling to expel wholly imaginary irritations. Nonetheless, when he looked back up he had to wipe a small tear from his eye. He hadn’t done that in a long time. Twilight’s eyes were wide, as if she could not believe what had just happened. Celestia’s face looked untroubled, as if the mockery had slid off of her like water off a solid stone. Luna showed the most reaction, her cheeks flushed and her brow creased. “Heh heh heh heh heh…” Grievous chuckled a little more. “You can’t be serious! I understand the value of propaganda and overstating your own power, but to claim that you can move the celestial bodies?!” He threw back his head and laughed again. “Aha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!” “’Tis no propaganda!” Luna burst out. “’Tis the truth, thou doubting cur!” Grievous snorted. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe something so ridiculous?!’ But, looking from the faces of one alicorn to the next, it appeared that they did. Grievous rolled his eyes. “You honestly think that I am going to believe such an absurd lie? Do me more credit than that!” “Cease thine insults, alien!” Luna retorted. “If thou wiltst not believe us, we shall show thee!” Grievous looked her dead in the face. It appeared, impossibly, as if she actually meant what she said. “Alright then,” he said with another slight chuckle. “Prove it.” Luna smiled confidently. “Come then, general, and we shall show thee just what our power can do!” Without hesitation, Princess Luna marched right up to and out the front door of Twilight’s castle. The smaller alicorn moved to follow, but Celestia held her back with a nudge. Snorting his disdain, Grievous followed the smaller alicorn outside. “Watch the moon, oh visitor from beyond the stars, and behold our magic!” Grievous obligingly turned his head to face the moon where his best chance of getting out of here lay. It hung brightly in the night sky, bathing all beneath it in a gentle white light. Out of the corner of his eye, Grievous could see a faint blue glow coming from Luna’s horn. And then, without warning, the impossible happened. The moon moved. Grievous’ eyes went wide. If he had had a jaw, it would have dropped. The planet’s moon, an orbital body weighing uncounted billions of tons, had just visibly changed its location before his very eyes. Grievous whipped around to face Luna, who appeared to be smiling smugly. “Do it again!” he demanded. “As many times as thou shalt wish, my good general,” said Luna, cockily. Grievous looked up at the moon again. And again, it moved. “Dost thou believe us now, oh general most grievous?” came the voice of the dark princess. As Grievous’ head turned back to the now very smug princess and her sister still within the crystal palace, his eyes narrowed. The gears of his mind were whirring as he felt his mission parameters changing around him. Lord Sidious would be very interested in these two.