Twilight Sparkle was packing the items she’d selected to take with in the small, cramped quarters she had been assigned on the transport A3-479, not so affectionately dubbed Rust Heap by its small Imperial crew. A Gozanti-class freighter that looked like it had seen better days, to put it mildly, the Rust Heap was a regular visitor to Equus with a predictable flight schedule. That made it perfect as an innocuous way off the planet – it was not likely to undergo serious scrutiny, especially on the way out.
The Rust Heap, like many other vessels of its kind, served to carry shipments of blaster technology, much of it outdated Republic surplus or confiscated Separatist material, to the planet in general and Equestria in particular. It was extra work to ship loads such a long way into the Unknown Regions, but the Empire’s refusal to allow modern weapons factories on the planet made it a necessity. This strategy had the nice benefit of allowing the Empire to precisely calibrate the level of weaponry in the hands of their proxies, as well as maintain a total monopoly on replacement parts and ammunition. Any revolt could expect to run out of useable advanced weaponry very quickly. It was a very effective system for making certain that the blaster rifles they handed over to the Equestrians were always aimed at other natives of the planet rather than their Imperial overseers.
On the way out, the freighter carried simple cargoes of raw ore, precious metals, and gemstones mined from across the planet, though to Twilight their way of doing so made little sense. Equus generally and Equestria especially were mineral-rich, yes, but the way the Empire set about getting those riches was puzzling. Crunching the numbers based on what she had seen in Imperial databanks, it would have been far more efficient to bring in large amounts of modern mining and processing equipment and ship the finished or almost-finished product from the world rather than just taking everything to be processed into useable form elsewhere. Yet the Imperials had done the opposite, demanding certain amounts be mined and enforcing it violently but not lifting a finger to make the mining more efficient or process the results on-site. It was a conundrum: in some ways it almost looked as though the Empire was simply oppressing them for the sole sake of doing so, rather than any material gain. What end they hoped to achieve by that, Twilight couldn’t fathom.
At least her shipmates – three human males, two R-series mechanical droids – were not particularly bad, at least as far as Imperials went. Mostly, to Twilight, they seemed like down on their luck regular folks who simply took what work they could find. None of them had been in the least bit interested in her or her elaborate cover story of what “Zaira Blane” had been doing on this planet. They had simply told her to shut up and stay out of the way, and there wouldn’t be any trouble.
And that suited Twilight just fine.
Inquisitor Cia led the small group of humanoids and one equine princess through the burning red sand dunes of Korriban at a moderate pace. They stretched out for miles in every direction from the small, elevated landing platform, broken only by reddish-brown formations that often uncomfortably resembled jagged teeth. Even worse than the unpleasantness of the environment was the fact that the weather itself seemed to be against the intruders. The howling winds of Korriban whipped the red sands into blinding storms that came and went without warning, getting grit everywhere, forcing people to squint and cover their eyes, and generally slowing the party down even further. But, in Princess Luna’s opinion, the sandstorms were the better part of this planet’s weather. For when it was not storming, the sun came out.
Princess Luna had, rather obviously, never been the biggest fan of the sun even back at home. She was nocturnal by inclination and magical affinity, and her prior experiences as Nightmare Moon further inclined her to living primarily in the night. Still, that didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate her sister’s burning orb – far from it! The sun was the bringer of life and warmth to Equus, and without it all things should perish. Luna recognized that now, even if she had forgotten in the past. Moreover, Celestia’s sun glowed golden with warm, welcoming light that seemed to, in some small way, contain a measure of her sister’s beneficence. It was a subtle effect, certainly, but in its own way her sister’s sun served to boost spirits, calm tempers, and generally make life more pleasant for those under its gentle rays.
The sun on Korriban was nothing like that.
The light here was harsh and distinctly tinted with crimson. The sun’s rays were blazing hot and very intense, scouring the skin of those lacking in fur or protective clothing with bright red burns within the space of minutes. It beat down constantly and without mercy, save for when sudden sandstorms emerged to offer a temporary shield. But far worse than any mere heat-related inconveniences was the feel of the great ball of fire. Celestial bodies, Luna knew from experience, had to a certain extent their own spirit. It was not what she would call a sapient mind, but rather simply a general flow of energy inclined towards their own particular idiosyncrasies. They could aid magic that drew upon similar energies and hinder those magicks coming from opposed sources.
The spirit of Korriban’s star was utterly malevolent.
Luna, even with her horn removed and her magical senses crippled, could sense as much. The star overhead seemed to her to be watching the group as a predator does its prey, or even how a torturer might his victim. Its light was poisonous to harmony and love, thriving on hatred and desiring spilt blood. It was in many ways the polar opposite of her sister’s star. This planet, she decided, was not a good place to be caught out in the open.
On the whole trip, there were no guards with the group. Indeed, there were no Imperials around at all save for Cia, who had her back to the group. At any moment, anyone was free to try and run of into the distance. But few did. The going was slow and uncomfortable, yes, but where else were they to go? There were no structures in sight save the landing platform where the shuttle had touched, and waiting aboard it was obviously no option. Their choices were limited to following the Chiss woman or taking their chances on an unknown desert planet. Only one Togruta male chose the latter option, taking a chance to vanish into the swirling red sands during one of the periodic storms.
Luna did not fancy his chances.
Despite the murderous weather and general misery of the trek, the Inquisitor saw fit a few minutes in to launch into a brief speech, her voice rising above even the scouring winds.
“Korriban,” she lectured in her alto tones. “Is a world greatly immersed in the dark side. Throughout all of recorded history the true power of the Force has run deep and wide here, feeding the strength of those with the will to take it. Some of you, especially those well-versed in galactic history, may well have heard of it before. Others of you might know it by another name it has gained only in the past few centuries: Moraband. I prefer the old name, so that is the one we shall be using, but know that both names refer to the same planet.” Cia paused momentarily as the group crested a large, rocky hill, continuing on the way down. “As the strength of the dark side here is unparalleled, it is the perfect place to begin a rise to true greatness! But be warned,” she said. “It is also the perfect place to meet your untimely end. Korriban will test you, one way or another, before your training here is through. Those of you who prove too weak… or fail to embrace the dark side fervently enough… shall perish, and your bleached bones shall serve as an example to the next class of students. So be on your guard.”
Luna did not need telling twice on that front.
“Now,” continued the Inquisitor. “We shall begin your training even as we march. As we go, I want you to tune out the material, to close your eyes and reject the weak senses of nature. Feel the currents of the dark side winding around you, and use that to navigate as we go. Know that I am watching, and observing who succeeds and who fails.”
Princess Luna growled irritably at the order, and for a moment considered not obeying. But… what would she do then? She had nowhere to go, and as far as she knew no way off this blasted rock. The Inquisitor could kill her at any time, and at the present there was nothing she could do about it. And of course, being reminded of her humiliating helplessness, and the potential for regaining her magic…
Once she had that back, she could make the Empire suffer for what it had done.
Luna closed her eyes as instructed, reaching out with the crippled remnants of her magical senses. The sense of malevolent power infusing the air was even stronger without visual stimulus to occupy her mind, the feeling so overwhelming that even her hornless self could pick up on it immediately. Willing it to obey its royal mistress, to guide her forward, Luna took a hesitant step. Then another. And then another. And then another. And then another. And then another.
And then she hit her face on a rock.
Growling angrily, Luna opened her eyes again to see that she had wandered slightly out of the column and directly into a red outcropping of sandstone. Flush with anger and embarrassment beneath her dark fur, and with a spot of blood dribbling down her muzzle, the alicorn hurried back to take her place in line. She still didn’t want to be here, but she would rather do this than die miserably in the desert.
Luna tried twice more on the march to navigate via the Force, with her eyes closed. Neither time did she succeed: the first ended when she stumbled into the back of a human male trying the same thing, leading to them both taking a tumble down a sand dune. The second time the princess of the night tripped over a rock embedded in Korriban’s sands and wound up face-down in the sand. After that trio of embarrassments, Luna decided to take a break and walk with her eyes open.
The only consolation was that hardly anyone else was doing any better. Around her more than one person trued to navigate with their eyes closed, only to wind up in similarly humiliating incidents or even a few more serious injuries. When one human female broke her leg in a tumble, she was summarily abandoned by Inquisitor Cia, her cries for help unheeded by the rest of the new students.
It was just as the column was about to leave the wounded woman behind entirely that Luna ran back to her. Despite her great dislike for the human race, for all the suffering the wretched species had brought to her planet, the alicorn still could not bring herself to leave another living thing to die so wretchedly. For all she knew this woman was in the same position as herself.
“Oh thank you!” gasped the blonde-haired woman as Luna lowered her neck for her to grab on to. “Thank you so much!”
“Nnngh…” said Luna, feeling the pain as the human pulled on her now-static mane to hoist herself up. “Don’t… mention it.”
“My name is Mirabelle Hyding,” she replied, managing to wrap an arm around the pony and support her bad leg on Luna.
“We are Princess Luna,” the alicorn answered as she struggled to catch up to the column while supporting her limping companion. “Please do not pull on our mane again.”
“Right, sorry!” Mirabelle apologized hastily. “Thank you again for helping me!”
“Thou art… quite welcome, Ms. Mirabelle.”
The winds of Korriban blew fierce drafts of sand and grit into the faces of the two females even as the sun conspired to roast them alive. Following the tracks of the column was not easy, especially when they could so easily be blown away in the drafts. More than once they almost lost sight of their fellows, and Luna felt sure that would have been the end of them, but at last, after a grueling three hour hike, the group of recruits halted.
When the two stragglers eventually wandered into the rear of the group, Luna at last spied what she presumed would be their training ground. It was… honestly, kind of a letdown for the alicorn. It looked to be nothing more than a bog-standard grey, boxy Imperial building built into the side of a vast red cliff. Save for the surroundings, it might easily have been any one of the outposts established on Equus or elsewhere throughout the galaxy. The night princess had expected something more dramatic.
“Well done,” came the voice of Inquisitor Cia, again carried over the sound of the howling winds. “You have all passed your initial trial. All of you have shown a degree of ability, endurance, and obedience to orders. These things and more will be expected of those who will be Inquisitors themselves, but for now you may glory in the fact that you have taken your first steps,” here she paused for some seconds. “All of you, that is…” her red eyes scanned the crowd balefully. “Save one.”
Suddenly, the Chiss woman was a blur of motion. Her black-gloved hand darted to her waist and seized the curved hilt hooked upon the belt there. With a *snap-hiss* the silvery hilt became a long red blade, which hurdled through the air faster than thought. Instinctively, Luna ducked her head and wings towards the ground as the projectile approached.
But the attack wasn’t aimed at her.
The humming, blurry red blade spun in circles as it flew, becoming a virtual disk of deadly plasma. The lightsaber passed well over Luna’s head, not even coming close to touching the dark alicorn. The human clutching her, by contrast, relaxed her grip almost immediately and slumped to the ground.
Minus her head.
“The Inquisitorius,” Cia declared firmly as she caught her returning lightsaber in one hand. “Has no use for those too incompetent to simply walk from one place to another without being carried.” Even as she deactivated her saber with a casual flick and returned it to her belt, the Chiss’ narrow, luminescent eyes gazed out on her recruits again, each of whom now shrank before her.
Save Luna.
“Let this be a lesson to you all.”