Marching Orders
Rarity walked up the hillside. It was night time, and the moon shone bright and clear, casting its silver light upon the world and illuminating the twinkling stars that filled the firmament.
On top of the hill, Twilight stood as still as a standing stone. Her hands were clasped behind her back as she looked up at the stars, her lips moving silently as she named the various constellations hanging overhead.
"Twilight?" Rarity asked as she joined her friend on the hilltop. "Twilight, darling, are you all right?"
Twilight looked at her, a slight smile spreading across her face. "Rarity. I didn't notice you for a moment. Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for coming to check on me though."
"Are you sure you're alright?" Rarity said. "I heard what Lightning and the Grand Ruler did to you; I wouldn't blame you for being upset."
"Upset?" Twilight asked. "What would be the point in that? When a child does something wrong, you don't get upset about it, you try to understand what made them do it."
"They're not children," Rarity pointed out.
"Perhaps not, but at times I think they have the minds of children, the attitudes of children," Twilight said softly. "And there are times when I think that is the key to understanding them."
"I'm not sure why you'd want to," Rarity murmured.
"Because they're here, for better or worse, and I don't want to live in a world where we have to continually keep our heads down for fear of what they might do if they knew what we really thought of Starfleet and the space ponies," Twilight said. She looked back up at the sky. "They...they aren't bad people, you know? I don't think they are, anyway. They can be good. They have goodness in them, even if they don't always act upon it. They only lack a light to show them the way. We have more in common than we realise, either of us. There is more that unites us than divides us, I’m sure of it. We just need to find common ground."
"And you believe that you can do that?"
Twilight shrugged. "I am the princess of friendship, if I can't do it then who can. If I can bridge the gap between us, if I can be the conduit between Equestrians and Unicornicopians, if I can find the common ground between our peoples then I believe that I can create a better world for all of us. And if I can do that, if I can even begin it and leave it for other hands to finish, then, I think, I could die content.”
Lightning Dawn stared at himself, and barely recognised his own reflection in the mirror. He had the honour, for whatever such an honour was worth…no, that was wrong. It was an honour, no matter how little he esteemed it. That he esteemed it little said more of his own malaise than of the honour itself for honour, indeed, it was. He had the honour, as little joy as it brought him and as little as deserved it, to be the Supreme Allied Commander of the Starfleet, the youngest Supreme Commander in the history of that illustrious fighting force, and he was attired in the uniform of that exalted station. His uniform jacket was pristine white, and single breasted with a line of brass buttons running from the collar to the navel, each one polished until they shone like diamonds. A blue sash, trimmed with green fringe and golden thread, snaked from his right shoulder to his left hip, hanging just above the ceremonial sword - with a gilded hilt shaped like a unicorn's head, with sapphires for the eyes and a horn tipped with a single diamond - that the Grand Ruler had given him upon the occasion of his elevation to this, the highest office in the service. His collar was gold, and golden epaulettes adorned his shoulders. A cape hung down from his shoulders to below his knees, on the inside it was a white as pristine as his jacket, while on the outside it was a shimmering, shining silver like the stars the glittered in the night sky. His trousers were white, with a golden line running down the seam, and his feet were enclosed with a pair of polished black boots that shone so brightly they could have served as his mirror.
Two rows of medals, disks of gold and silver hanging suspended from ribbons of green and blue, adorned his right breast, testament to the gallantry he had displayed during his meteoric rise to rank and power. A heavy medallion of gold, strung from a blue ribbon weighted down his neck.
Finally, as he examined himself in the full-length mirror and tried to recognise the creature that he saw staring back at him, Lightning put on his high peaked cap, resting the peak itself upon the tip of his golden horn. He stared at himself. A stranger stared back.
To be sure, he recognised the bland and unmemorable features that could not wholly be disguised by the excessive ornamentation dictated by his position: a plain white coat, like the base coat upon a door or a window-frame, waiting for the colour to be applied on top; a common brown mane, commonly cut; very ordinary brown eyes. He knew them all, and knew them well. But him who bore those familiar features…Lightning did not recognise the gaudy god of war looking back at him from out of the mirror save to recognise that he was not Lightning Dawn.
He scowled, and tore the heavy medallion from his neck before he threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a crash – leaving a slight dent in the plaster as it did so – before falling to the ground. He let it lie. Such baubles were not meet for the circumstances.
Yes, the circumstances indeed. There was a part of him that felt sick to the stomach for what he was about to do. Another part of him thought that it was well past time. It could not be denied that Friendship is Magic had never been the same since the untimely death of their squad leader. The attempt to find an alternative bearer for the Element of Magic – or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say the attempt to hammer a not-Twilight shaped peg into a Twilight-shaped hole – had been little short of farcical. From that perspective, from that clinical and efficient military perspective, the decision he had to deliver today was the correct one: a proper re-allocation of resources.
It still made him sick.
Would Twilight have argued, or would she have helped smooth the way for this?
Twilight.
Twilight, he felt certain, was the reason for the turmoil within him. Before then he would not have thought twice about the duty being laid upon him. He had been born on Harmonius, but his memories of that place were few and fleeting: even his parents were more shadows than ponies, and his kindergarten classmates were an interchangeable mass devoid of individual identities. No, Harmonius had not forged him; he had no true and lasting memories of that now-vanished world. Rather, he had been formed in the palace of Grand Ruler Celesto, high above Rainbow City Central in the old realm of Unicornicopia, where he had imbibed the Unicornicopian doctrine of unyielding strength, faithful service and duty done without hesitation from the lips of he who was the author of that creed. But Twilight...she had begun to show him a different life, a different way of living and seeing the world around him. It was her memory that was the root of all the doubts that ever plagued him in the darkness of the night, her influence that had such a strange and, possibly baleful, effect upon his thinking.
But Twilight had died, and that might be said to have proved the folly of her policies and attitudes, especially when set against the fact that Lightning yet lived. And yet...he could not shake her from his thoughts.
The door opened to admit Starla into the bedroom. She was dressed in the casual version of her armour, unadorned by medals or other decorations just as her face was unadorned by any trace of makeup or cosmetics that would spoil the strength of her features with the unappealing touch of femininity. She carried a bow slung across her back, along with a pair of swords, as little as it seemed that she would need either of them in the peaceful setting of New Ponyville.
Still, Lightning supposed that it never hurt to be prepared. Twilight’s death was proof of that.
Starla looked at him, and he saw her eyes dart to the medallion lying on the floor. But she said nothing of it, and even smiled at him. “Good morning,” she said. “You look nice.”
“You think so?”
Starla nodded. “Dapper and dashing.”
Lightning smiled momentarily. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I like it a lot, you should wear it more often,” Starla said softly, advancing upon him. “Give me a kiss.”
Lightning kissed her gently upon the lips.
Starla blinked. “How…dutiful, of you,” she said. “You didn’t come down for breakfast.”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“I waited for you.”
“I’m sorry,” Lightning murmured.
“It doesn’t matter, it was only pancakes.”
Lightning paused. “My favourite.”
“Like I said, it doesn’t matter,” Starla said. “Are…what are you doing today?”
“You mean after this?”
Starla nodded. “I’m meeting up with the guys later, we’re going to get one last good training session in before Dyno and Myte head out to Helsinore on this special mission for His Majesty. Do you want to join?”
“No, thank you,” Lightning murmured. “Say goodbye to both of them for me.”
“You should tell them yourself,” Starla said. “It’s not like you’re too busy.”
“I have a lot of paperwork to do,” Lightning replied, a touch of defensiveness entering his voice.
“Then hire a secretary!” Starla cried. “When you got this promotion you told me that you didn’t want to ride a desk; you told me that you wanted to be out in the field but you’re not out in the field, you’re…” she waved one hand airily. “Frankly it feels as though I’ve been leading your team ever since Sombra fell.”
“I’m sure you’re very good at it.”
“I’m better than good, as it happens, but that’s not the point,” Starla snapped. “The point is that you’re not yourself, and shutting yourself off from the guys isn’t helping. You can get somebody to do the paperwork for you; you certainly don’t need to be delivering orders to junior officers yourself, that’s what couriers are for.”
"I think I owe it to Twilight to take care of this personally," Lightning said.
Starla shook her head. “Twilight. Always Twilight. When will the world forget Twilight Sparkle? Did you speak to His Majesty about us transferring to Canterlot?”
Lightning hesitated. “Yes, I did. His Majesty agreed it made sense that we should be based out of the capital, especially since Friendship is Magic is…he agreed. I’ve already spoken to Rhymey, he’s started sorting out his move already. His Majesty…our things will be taken care of over the next couple of days. He already has a place in mind for us.
"Thank the gods," Starla muttered. "It will be so, so good to get away from. If I have to go to one more of Pinkie Pie's asinine parties I swear I'm going to scream. Or shoot someone. And hopefully Rarity's next assignment will damage her mane somehow; the way she looks just like me really bugs me."
Lightning frowned. "That's a little mean spirited, don't you think?"
Starla snorted. “Oh, please. As though you didn’t roll your eyes at their childish antics as hard as any of us. Harder, even.”
"Yes, but," Lightning paused. Saying that he regretted that now would have seemed a little false, not to mention a very slight basis for criticising his wife. So instead he said, "When you see Artie and Buddy, would you let them know about the transfer? If they want to move then they need let to you know and…we can get the arrangements.”
“Let me get this straight: the lesser races get their marching orders from you direct, but Buddy and Artie have to hear about possible transfer second hand?”
“It’s not as bad as you’re making it sound. And please don’t call them lesser races. They’re our-“
“Our partners in a better tomorrow, one land, one world, one people,” Starla sighed. “You realise that’s supposed to take them in, not us?”
“I…” Lightning paused. “Never mind. Let’s go.”
Major William ‘Rhymey’ Stirskewer III, code number XL7Z, was waiting for him outside his house, leaning against the wall with his yellow mane drooping down one side of his equally yellow face. As the door opened he came to attention, brushing his mane out of the way in the same smooth gesture with which he saluted Lightning.
"Good morning, Lightning, it's a lovely day,
I wish it would not go away."
"Good morning, Rhymey," Lightning said. He didn't insist on being addressed by his rank, not in this informal circumstance. Rhymey had earned a degree of leeway, his method of speech might be odd but he was a brave fighter and loyal too, so Lightning would put up with it.
"Look at that," Starla said. "Doesn't it make you sick?"
Lightning followed her pointing hand, and saw that the street was blocked by a crowd of hippies protesting the war in Rangiveria. It was true that the Starfleet deployment had become rather bogged down in the woods recently - and Lightning, who saw all the documents, knew that things were worse than the newspapers were making it out to be - but that was no reason for this crowd of layabouts to block off the traffic of commerce with their antics, or to pollute the air with their moronic sloganeering. 'Make cupcakes, not war' indeed.
"We come here, we sort out their country, we defend their freedom, and what do they do?" Starla asked. "They spit on us and give away free muffins as a political statement. And the worst part is they smell like really good muffins."
As he watched, one of them set the flag on fire.
"How dare they our standard so profane?
I'll have their guts, for shame, for shame!" Rhymey snapped.
"Let it go, both of you," Lightning said. "We have other business to take care of. Come on, let's find a route around them."
The three of them began to make their way to Sugarcube Corner.
Rarity took a delicate and ladylike bite out of the angel cake in her hand, chewing demurely so as to ensure that not a single speck of buttercream ended up on her lips. "Oh, Pinkie darling, this is quite delicious. I think these cakes are even better than before. Is it a new recipe?"
"They're just made with love," Pinkie said, bounding over to the table and leaping over her chair, to land on it perfectly in spite of the fact that she should have slammed into the table itself. "Ooh, and some vanilla pods."
"Whatever you make them out of, they taste great," Rainbow Dash said in between large bites that left her mouth covered in crumbs. "Thanks, Pinkie."
Pinkie giggled. "I'm just glad that we could all get together like this. It feels like we don't hang out together as often as we used to."
"Well, we are all rather busy," Rarity said. "Our Starfleet duties eat into our time, and we each have our own lives outside of that."
"Is it me, or do those Starfleet duties seem to be taking up more of our time than they used to?" Applejack asked. "I feel like I'm spending more time attending mandatory training than I am back home. It ain't fair on Big Mac that he has to pick up so much of the slack for me, and Celestia knows that Buddy Rose doesn't pull his weight around the acres."
"Kick him out," Rainbow said.
"Nah, if I tried to do that he'd just tell me no and the whole thing would blow up into a mess of a quarrel," Applejack said. "I could do without that kind of trouble. Besides, Apple Bloom is friends with his cousin, and I don't want to cause any upsets for her. I wouldn't mind that he barely does any work around the farm, except that when I applied to have my training hours cut down on account of my farm work I was told I didn't qualify because I had two other folks to help me. I felt like saying that no, I got one fella to help, and he's working himself to the bone trying to manage everything."
Rarity leaned back in her chair. "I can't say I've experienced your particular situation, Applejack, but I agree that it does seem as though we get called up for service more often than we used to."
"I wouldn't mind being called upon more often," Fluttershy said. "I haven't had to attend a Starfleet function for months now. I think that Rhymey is filing my reports for me, or having Lightning do it for him maybe."
"That isn't so bad," Rainbow said. "Those skill evaluation sessions are a joke anyway, I'd be glad if I didn't have to waste my time with them."
"This would never have happened if Twilight were still here," Spike murmured.
Everyone sighed at that, looking down at the table.
"Aww, now everypony's miserable again!" Pinkie said. "This was supposed to be a happy time!"
Rarity lifted her head up. "You're quite right, Pinkie Pie. Let's talk about something else, something other than Starfleet. How are you, Pinkie?"
The bell above the door to Sugarcube Corner tinkled as the door swung open.
Pinkie leapt to her feet. "Hello! My name's...oh, hello Lightning."
Rarity looked up to see Lightning, Starla and Rhymey standing in the doorway to the cake shop.
"Ah, Lightning," she murmured. "Yes, you're just the pony we were looking for."
"That's Supreme Allied Commander Lightning Dawn," Starla said firmly. "Don’t forget that he’s your superior officer. Don’t forget that we’re all your superior officers.”
Rainbow jumped to her feet. "Yes sir, Supreme Allied Commander, sir!"
Spike sniggered into his hand.
Rhymey's eyes narrowed a little. "Fluttershy, what a surprise,
You didn't tell me you'd be here, my prize."
Fluttershy looked away. "I...I didn't think it was worthy mentioning."
"I always want to know your plans, my love,
Or how can I find you, my little turtledove?"
"Why don't you give her a tracking collar like she's a dog," Rainbow muttered under her breath.
"Forgive me for saying, Rainbow Dash,
But that sounded rather a lot like sass."
Rarity climbed to her feet and cleared her throat. "Lightning… I mean, Commander. Major Rhymey, Major Starla, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit? Would you care to join us?"
"I'm afraid this isn't a social call, Captain," Lightning said. He strode over to their table, his cloak swaying in his wake, while Rhymey and Starla followed at a more discreet distance. Rarity saw that tucked under one army Lightning had a number of files, which he held out in front of him as he drew near. He stood still for a moment, suddenly looking very nervous and, unless Rarity missed her guess, a little ashamed of himself too. It was strange, seeing him so diffident; it almost reminded her of Twilight.
Perhaps a little of her did rub off on him after all.
Lightning coughed awkwardly, then cleared his throat, then coughed again. Finally he said. "I'm afraid that there is no easy way to say this: Friendship is Magic is being disbanded."
"What?" Pinkie said. "Disbanded? But why?"
"Because you don’t have a sixth member, because you couldn’t find a replacement, and because you’re useless without your precious Elements of Harmony," Starla said. “And because it was a bad idea to begin with.”
"If you want to talk about bad ideas then how about-" Rainbow began, her voice rising even as she rose herself up from her seat.
"Hold on, now," Applejack said, getting up and putting one hand on Rainbow's shoulder. "There ain't no call for losing our heads until there is. What does this mean, Lightnin' Dawn? When you say Disband, what does that really mean for us?"
"It means that you're getting other assignments," Lightning said. He began to toss the files onto the table in front of the relevant ponies concerned. “Executive Captain Rainbow Dash, you are being transferred to the 101st Special Service Company under the command of Major Cerise Wonder, you are to report to Starfleet Headquarters at 0800 hours tomorrow. Executive Captain Pinkie Pie, congratulations, you're the new Starfleet attaché to the court of Her Most Exalted Majesty Queen Tynisa of Grevyia. Your itinerary is included in your orders."
Pinkie's eyes were wide and her voice was childlike. "I have to go away? I have to leave Ponyville?"
Lightning's brow creased slightly. "The requirements of the service, I'm afraid. Executive Captain Applejack, Junior Captain Spike, you are to join the First Battalion of the 33rd Regiment of Foot as, respectively, battalion XO and commander of the Grenadier Company. The battalion ships out for Rangiveria in four days time."
The last file landed in front of Rarity. Lightning said, "Executive Captain Rarity, you are to proceed to the Neighfolk Naval Yard and take command of the frigate Princess Twilight Sparkle. Any questions?"
For a moment there was silence in the cafeteria, and then everypony started speaking at once.
"Transferred to Starfleet Headquarters?" Rainbow said.
"Shipping out to Rangiveria!" Applejack yelled.
"I'm not sure I'm really qualified to take command of a frigate," Rarity murmured.
"Why do I have to leave Ponyville?" Pinkie asked.
"You have your orders!" Starla snapped. "You don’t like them? Tough! A good soldier goes where she’s sent and she does what she’s told. Now obey your commands."
"Starla, that's enough," Lightning said softly. "One at a time, please."
"Whose idea was this?" Rainbow demanded. "Was it yours?"
Lightning did not meet Rainbow's eyes. "Yes."
"Why you backstabbing little," Rainbow snarled. "If Twilight were here-"
"Twilight's dead," Starla said sharply. “And you’d better get used to that, because it isn’t changing any time soon.”
Rainbow's hand balled into a fist.
"Um, excuse me," Fluttershy murmured. "You don't seem to have any orders for me."
Rhymey smiled. "You don't need orders, Fluttershy dear,
You're coming with me, I'm keeping your near."
"Lightning Squad is transferring it’s base to New Canterlot, as there is no practical or military reason for it to remain based out of New Ponyville," Lightning explained. "As such Major Rhymey is transferring his accommodation to that city. As his wife you will, of course, accompany him there."
"Oh," Fluttershy said. "But my life is here in Ponyville."
"Your life is with your husband in New Canterlot,” Lightning said. “Husband and wife is one flesh, one heart, and one soul. How…how can it be divided?”
I notice that it’s his heart and soul, not hers, Rarity thought. Call me out of fashion but I’d rather like my husband to be considerate to my wants and needs.
Fluttershy bowed her head. "Oh, I see. Of course."
"Lightning," Applejack said. "How do you expect Sweet Apple Acres to keep running when I've been shipped off to Rangiveria?"
"I'm sure that Buddy will be able to take care of things," Lightning said. "He has a lot of skills that you don't, after all."
"Then why doesn't he ship out to Rangiveria?" Rainbow asked. "For that matter why is Spike going to war, he's just a baby?"
"He's a commissioned officer of the Starfleet," Lightning said.
"And he always likes to talk about wanting to play his part," Starla said.
"Yeah, but going to war?" Rainbow asked. "Come on, you can screw us over if you want but have some pity on the little guy, I mean…” she clenched her jaw. “I tell you what, I’ll ship out to Rangiveria and serve with this stupid Regiment, and Spike and Applejack can stay home safe, or serve in that Special whatever. Or I’ll go with Applejack and Spike can stick around here if it’s gotta be that way, just don’t send the kid into battle and stick me on the bench, I mean that’s nuts!”
Lightning stood as still as a wall, and gave about as much comfort. “Your orders have been issued, they cannot now be changed.” His brown eyes swept over the table, at the tea and cakes that mingle with the files that had shattered the patterns of their lives. "I will leave to your festivities. Good day, ladies."
Lightning turned to go, his cape swishing behind him as he walked towards the door.
Rhymey said, "Fluttershy, come away with me,
There's no need to finish your tea."
Fluttershy took half a step towards her husband. Then she stopped, hesitating. She looked down, then back up again, her eyes glancing towards Rainbow Dash, and towards each of her friends in turn.
"No," she said.
Rhymey blinked. "I must have misheard you a moment ago,
For I could have sworn that you said 'No'."
"I did," Fluttershy said firmly. "I'm going to finish having tea with my friends, and say goodbye. I'll come find you later."
Rhymey's face twisted into a scowl. "Now Fluttershy, you listen to me,
You're coming straight along with me."
He took a step towards her, hand outstretched to grab Fluttershy by the arm. Already Rarity could see that Rainbow’s hand was still clenched into a fist, and it didn't take a keen observer of behaviour to work out that if Rhymey got much closer she was going to slug him across the jaw.
And I shall be right behind her, the unchivalrous brute. What did Fluttershy ever see in him?
Rhymey took a step closer.
"Major Rhymey!" Lightning snapped. "Atten-hut!"
Rhymey leapt to attention, his booted feet slamming into the floor of Sugarcube Corner.
"About Face!" Lightning yelled.
Rhymey pirouetted on his right heel, and his left foot once again slammed into the floor. His face was a mask of befuddled confusion.
"Lightning Dawn, what's going on?
You sound like I've done something wrong."
Lightning backhanded him across the jaw so hard that Rhymey staggered into the nearest wall with a crash.
"You are dismissed, Major!" Lightning snarled into Rhymey's face, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him like a rat in the mouth of a mastiff. "Go to New Canterlot at once and await further orders, do I make myself clear?" He let go. "Get out of my sight."
Rhymey whimpered slightly, but otherwise said nothing as he made a swift exit from the cake shop. The bell jingled merrily as he departed.
Lightning straightened up, and looked at the assembled mares and the baby dragon.
Rarity's stare was hostile. I hope you don't think you've won yourself any points by that display.
Lightning nodded, and touched the peak of his cap with his fingers, before he turned away once come.
"Come, Starla," he said.
Starla, whose eyes were wide and whose face had gone even paler than usual, followed him out without saying a word.
For a moment, silence reigned among them more regally than even Celestia.
"I could have taken that guy," Rainbow Dash said.
"I'm glad that you didn't," Fluttershy replied. "You might have gotten into trouble."
"It couldn't be worse than the trouble we're already in," Rainbow shouted. "Re-assigned? Rangiveria? Grevyia? What are we going to do about this?"
"What can we do, darling, but hope to get it over with as quickly as possible?" Rarity said.
"Maybe we could talk to Queen Celestia?" Spike suggested. "If she knew about this-"
"I have no doubt that the princess – sorry, the Queen - would move heaven and earth to help us if we asked her too, Spike, but if half of what I hear from Sunset Shimmer is accurate then Celestia has more than enough troubles of her own without adding to her burdens," Rarity said. "I think that the best thing we can do is to face these changes bravely, and weather whatever storms are to come."
A smile pricked at the corners of Applejack’s mouth. "For a moment there, Rarity, you almost sounded like Twilight."
Rarity shook her head. "Hardly. A cheap imitation at best. But Twilight believed that it was possible to understand these ponies, for the good of all of us. I think we owe it to her not to give up on them just yet."
"But Rangiveria?" Spike asked. "The things they say about that place...they say half the ponies who go out their don't come back."
Applejack swept her hat off her head as she got down on her knees, so that she and Spike were at eye level with one another. "Now you don't want to go listening to a whole bunch of rumours Spike, most likely it's nothing but a lot of hooey. Besides, I'm going to be right there with you, and whatever happens I'll make sure you get back home safe and sound."
"You promise?" Spike asked.
"I promise," Applejack said solemnly. "Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye."
"So...this isn't the end?" Pinkie asked.
"Aw, hay no," Applejack. "We may be apart for a little while, but we'll see each other again."
Rarity smiled. "That sounds like as good an oath as any. Let's all vow, here, before we depart, that we will all return from our travels safe and sound, and meet here again for a party uninterrupted by orders or admirals."
She held out her hand. One by one, the others placed their hands on top of hers, even Spike.
"And in our hearts let us never be apart," Rarity said.
"That was harsh," Starla said.
"To who?" Lightning asked.
"Rhymey!" Starla said loudly. "Who else?"
"I thought you might have meant Twilight's friends," Lightning murmured. "I was cruel to them."
"You had your orders, just like they have theirs," Starla said. "Why didn't you tell them that it was the Grand Ruler who had decided to have them reassigned?"
Lightning hesitated for a moment. "It is better that their animus is directed towards me. Public confidence in His Majesty should be maintained by any means."
Starla was silent for a moment. "I’m sure he appreciates your sacrifice."
I’m sure he does. Lightning thought. However I may be trying his patience of late, he is still as a father to me. He deserves a better son than he has in me, and the gods have granted him a child of his own blood to please his heart. "His Majesty is not required to appreciate the duty faithfully rendered to him by his loyal servants. It is his due."
Starla shrugged. "So why did you go off on one with Rhymey like that?"
"I was angry."
"About what?"
"I don't know," Lightning said. "I just...felt angry."
"That's not a good thing, you know."
"Starla, my parents are dead, my planet is gone, and I am the last of my race. Should I be mild and well-adjusted?" Lightning asked.
"You never used to be so angry," Starla said quietly.
"Yes, I did," Lightning replied. "You just didn't notice because I was directing my anger at people you didn't care about."
"Why does this bother you?" Starla demanded. "They all joined the military, they all chose to volunteer for Starfleet; nobody forced them to do it. Nobody made them do anything. They chose this, and now they’re getting a real taste of what life in the service is like. You know, I didn’t want to leave Spec Ops at first.”
Lightning’s eyebrows rose. He knew that Starla had been employed as one of the Grand Ruler’s personal Valkyries before the Titan War had brought them together, although the details of what exactly she had done in that position were as heavily redacted as everything else to do with the Valkyries. He hadn’t known that she didn’t want to leave. “You liked it there.”
“I did,” Starla said. “More importantly…when His Majesty told me that he wanted me to join a team led by his prize student…I had horrible visions of wet nursing some rookie who didn’t have a clue how to survive in the field. Luckily that turned out to be…less than wholly the case.” She smiled, to show that she spoke in jest. “But I didn’t know that at the time…but I did it anyway, because those were my orders. Because I’m a good soldier, I do what I’m told. Those five in there…they’re not good soldiers. They're a collection of inferior species and they've had an easy ride for far too long. It's about time they learnt to stand up for themselves and stopped dining out on the memory of precious Princess Twilight Sparkle."
"Don't call her that," Lightning snapped. "Don't make fun of her. She deserves better."
Starla's voice became frosty as a winter chill. "I'm your wife, if you remember? I can keep you warm at night, I can hold you in my arms, kiss you, make love to you, write you love notes, care for you when your old and sick. Twilight can't do any of that because she's dead and gone. I'm still here, and she never loved you the way I do."
"That has-"
"Don't lie to me," Starla said. "I'm not an idiot. I just want to know why?"
Lightning looked her in the eyes. "Because...because they make me feel...I don't know. But she changed me. Why do you dislike them so much?"
"Because they changed you, or this place did," Starla replied. "You aren't the same stallion I fell in love with. That guy wouldn't have wrung his hands about whether or not he had upset those girls."
"Did you ever consider that I've changed for the better?"
"No," Starla said. "You used to be a model Unicornicopian, a model Starfleet officer. Now I'm not sure what you are."
"A person," Lightning said. He sighed. "Honestly, and for gods’ sake tell me true, did I do the right thing?"
"You did your duty," Starla said.
That's not really what I asked, is it? Lightning thought. What do you think, Twilight? Did I do the right thing?
The barren, frigid silence in his soul was all the answer he required.
Starla perched on top of a street lamp in New Ponyville, looking down upon the streets around her while she, standing in the darkness above the light, was nearly invisible even if any passing pony had lifted up their eyes to look for her.
She stood with perfect balance, unafraid of falling, her arms folded across her chest. Lightning wasn't home. He often didn't come home until late. Working, as though he had to do it all himself and couldn't delegate a thing to lesser hands. She was starting to think he just didn't want to come home to her.
She wished for music, for some sad and soft and melancholy tune, a melody that started slow before it, perhaps, sped up a little bit; something that she could sing to, and in the singing unburden her soul of all her troubles, and perchance even confide her hopes and dreams for the life before her.
The hopes and dreams that seemed less likely to be fulfilled with each passing day and night.
But there was no music. There was no song. The night was as silent as it was cold, and her breath was misting up in front of her face. There was no easy outlet for her silent despair.
Starla looked up, up to the stars that glittered in the dark sky above. That was why she was here, posing on a lamp-post like a brooding villain: because the light from the street-lamps obscured the stars and made it harder to see. You had to get a little higher to see them. It was one thing she wasn't looking forward to about New Canterlot, where the light pollution would be much, much worse.
But for now, Starla Shine could see the stars.
They comforted her. They had always comforted her, even when she was a little filly. She remembered sitting on the roof of her childhood home with her Mama, whenever her mother returned from the field; little Starla would be wrapped in a thick wolly blanket, with Galaxia's arms around her as they gazed up at the stars of Unicornicopia together.
"Which is that constellation, Mama?"
"What do you think, little star?" Galaxia Shine replied. "What does it look like to you?"
And Starla would reach out, stretching her finger towards the heavens and begin to draw - and Starla found herself mirroring the childlike action, drawing pictures in the stars, making lines of brilliant white in the stars that only she could see - and trace the fruits of her imagination: a pig, a cow, a space unicorn with the largest, most fabulous wings imaginable. "There's you, Mama!"
"There's you, Mama," Starla murmured. But she wasn't there, not here. Starla couldn't see her mother's sign from this strange place. The stars of home were nowhere to be seen.
This was not her home. New Ponyville was not her home. United Equestria was not her home. Her home was Unicornicopia, her home was WhiteVillage, her home was Rainbow City Central and the house she'd shared with Mama. Her home was gone. Blown up. Turned to dust and ashes.
Lightning thought he was the only one who'd a lost a home. He could be really self-absorbed sometimes. They'd all lost something when Unicornicopia fell. For Starla, she had lost not only home but all connection to those who had come before her.
And she had not even the consolation of knowing that something would come after to soothe her soul.
Absently, Starla found that she had traced the outline of a baby in the stars. A baby space pony. Her baby. A daughter, for preference, although she would have loved a son just as well: a strong son who would combine the best of his father and mother in him, who would grow up tall and strong and kill many enemies of the Grand Ruler. But she would have preferred a daugther; a daughter whom she could have taught to shoot and fight and wield the shining magic that was her birthright.
But there would be no child for her. No heir to the Shine bloodline of which she was the last. Not because of her, but...because no one wished to father such a child on her.
Or at least, her husband did not. For how would a dutiful kiss on the lips each morning get her with the child she craved.
She loved Lightning, she wanted to be his wife and bear his children; but he had eyes only for a dead mare now.
"What would you do about this, Mama?" Starla asked. "What would you do to get him back?"
Her mother, she was sure, would not have lost her husband in the first place. Which was not to say that her father had been perfect; far from it. Father had never understood the need for Starfleet, ahd scorned the good work that they were doing, and when Mama was away on missions his eyes, his hands, his everything else had strayed to whatever or whoever was to hand. There had been mistresses by the load, and though he never paraded them in front of his daughter...the walls were thin, and Starla had heard a great deal.
But when Mama came home, when the Angel of Victory swooped into her domain then...Father only had eyes for her.
The fact that she could reduce full grown dragons to tears with a single raised eyebrow might have had something to do with that.
Would that I could have intimidated Twilight in the same easy fashion.
But she did not have her mother's light, for all her efforts - and she had made efforts, today's training session had largely consisted of having Buddy, Artie, Rhymey, Dyno and Myte come together in trying to beat her up in the hope that one of them would push her hard enough - she had failed to unlock her shining light, the super mode that was the birthright of the Shine family. She could feel the magic within her, could even wield it to a point...but not as it shold be wielded. Not as she had wielded it. The star did not shine so brightly as the galaxy; rather it was ever in the shadow of the greater light. Eclipsed.
Cast into Twilight, one might say.
Starla was distracted from these melancholy musings by the sound of someone giggling below. Starla looked down, her gaze descending from the lofty heavens towards the mundane earth, as she beheld two ponies walking down the street. Both were wrapped up warm against the unexpected chill, in scarves and gloves and thick coats, and the mare clung to the arm of the stallion as though the embrace was giving her the warmth she could not find anywhere else.
Though they were only earth ponies, and thus automatically worthy of nought but contempt, Starla had to admit...they made a handsome pair. She looked up at him with devotion, he looked down on her with rapturous admiration. Even the sounds of their laughter blended together, their two voices in harmony with one another.
She could still remember when she had been so happy, with Lightning. She could still remember when they used to walk together, when he used to sigh so heavily to behold her that it was as if the peace of heaven had fallen upon him and filled him with contentment. And she...when Starla had looked on him, so fearless and so strong, a raging god of war upon the battlefield...she had known that he was hers and in that knowledge she had been happy.
But now those halcyon days were gone, and perhaps they would never return.
"It almost felt like heaven's light," Starla whispered to the night air, as she spread her wings and flew away from her perch as she could not fly away from her sorrows.
But, oh, how she wished that she could.