//------------------------------//
// Chapter Thirteen: To Thine Own Self be True 
// Story: STAR WARS / FiM: Realms of the Heavens 
// by Tathem_Relag 
//------------------------------//

Everfree Imperial Garrison
12/17/3
11:54 A.M.

The Element-Bearers gazed up at the energy field blocking their path. They had all known the scale the humans’ base, of course, but it was something else entirely to be standing right in front of it. The size itself wasn’t particularly impressive, but that they had managed to construct such a place in only a few days certainly was.
From the guard tower to their left, an Imperial Army trooper called down to them. “So, you’re the precious pack of prancing pony princesses, are you?” He chuckled at his own alliteration. “Well, you better be real karkin’ appreciative of all the poodoo we’ve had to go through for this.”
Twilight frowned. Nopony understood the actual meanings of the strange words the humans scattered throughout their speech – few ponies wanted to talk to such violent creatures enough to figure it out, and many of the humans seemed to consider associating with ponies as somehow beneath them – but the way they were used made the gist of them pretty clear. “Is something wrong? We didn’t do anything, did we?”
“Hah! ‘Something wrong?’ Yeah, that’s one way of putting it. All the CompForce troops are locked up in their barracks to keep ’em from running into you. Normally I’d be happy about something that keeps those bleedin’ psychos away from me, but we have to keep this place fully guarded. So now, we’re all pulling double duty while those schuttas sit on their arses doing kark all!”
Fluttershy hesitantly walked up to Twilight and whispered to her, “That other human a few days ago, the one I told you about that was mean to me, and chased me away? He said something about ‘CompForce psychos’ too.”
Twilight’s frown deepened. She had thought these humans to be totally at ease with even the most brutal violence. What could they possibly consider psychotic? “What’s this ‘CompForce’ you’re talking about?” she shouted up to the guard.
He laughed, and Twilight noticed out of the corner of her eye that the dark ripple to his chortles made Pinkie look decidedly ill. “They’re bloody fanatics, is what they are,” he replied. “The military arm of COMPNOR – that’s ‘The Commission for the Preservation of the New Order.’ What COMPNOR does is, they take a bunch of indoctrinated boys who’re just out of school, torture ’em a few months, and the ones that survive mostly intact? They’re CompForce. Tough as Wookiees and ten times as crazy. You want to know their motto? ‘Two die for every one that gets through.’ Twice as many of ’em are flat-out killed by the ‘training’ as actually end up passing it. Phrase describes how they fight, too. You’ve never seen a true act of mass suicide until you’ve watched CompForce attack an enemy position. They can’t shoot straight, they refuse to take cover, and they just won’t stop charging. Heh. And people say I’m kill-crazy.”
All the ponies were now as sickened as Pinkie. It sounded like something Sombra would have done. As if sensing their thoughts, a figure just as dark and powerful approached from the Imperial side of the gate. “I think, Private,” the hooded man said quietly, “that the whole point of sequestering CompForce was to keep the ponies from learning about them.” The guard turned around, his complexion turning waxy and a look of panic spreading on his face as the Inquisitor continued. “What you just did was incredibly idiotic, bordering on traitorous. And you know what happens to idiots and traitors, don’t you?”
The hapless trooper barely got a chance to open his mouth before a burst of lightning caught him in the chest, knocking him out of the tower. Tumbling fifty feet, he struck the ground hard and didn’t move again. The sight of a pool of blood slowly spreading from the body tipped Fluttershy and Rarity over the edge, causing them to lose their lunches. Based on his smile, this seemed to amuse the Inquisitor. He made a gesture, and the shimmering wall between them disappeared. Walking forward, he asked, “Is something the matter, my little ponies?” The way he said that phrase was decidedly mocking, in sharp contrast to Celestia’s motherly inflection.
It took Twilight a few moments to find her voice, but when she did, it was full of outrage. “That human told us about the horrible things you do, and for his honesty, you… you…”
“You murdered him!” Applejack finished for her. There. It was out in the open. Murder. A word that hadn’t needed to be used in Equestria for centuries. An unthinkable crime for a pony to commit, it didn’t appear to faze the human any more than putting on his cloak.
“It’s not murder if I have full legal authority to do it,” he replied with an indolent grin. “Lest you forget, I’m a High Inquisitor. I can do anything I want. Including, by the way, overturning a decree that no ponies are to be allowed on the base or meet with its commander. You’re only here at all because I so choose. You’d do well to remember that before –”
He was cut off by a voice emerging from the forest. “Miss Fluttershy? Miss Fluttershy! I saw your note, and I hurried back as fast as I – By the Emperor!” Captain Orramas walked into view and came to a sudden halt, noticing Fluttershy still staring at the corpse of the guard. He broke into a run, then kneeled down next to her. “Fluttershy? Fluttershy, please, say something!” He gave her a soft shake, breaking her out of her stupor. She collapsed, sobbing. The captain turned and glared up at Malen. “You… you monster. What have you done to her?!”
The Inquisitor’s smile grew. “‘Monster’? Now that is a serious accusation, Captain. I’m hurt. How can you say something like that?”
With a roar, Orramas lunged at the Inquisitor, grabbing the front of Malen’s black robes. “Don’t you dare joke about this!” he shrieked. “What. Have. You. Done?!”
The mirth disappeared from Malen’s face. “Take care, Captain,” he said quietly. “Your particular skillset may afford you some degree of immunity from my wrath, but recall that nobody is indispensable to the Empire. Do not push my tolerance.”
The fire in Orramas’s eyes faded, and he let go of the Inquisitor’s clothes with a look of fear. Malen’s cruel smile returned. “You seem to have a strange concern for that alien, Captain. You don’t have any… deviant… tendencies, do you?”
Twilight, who was watching their conversation with a mixture of interest and simmering anger, noticed that Orramas’s pale face turned almost the same color as Pinkie’s fur. “I… No! No, of course not, my lord!”
“Good. Make sure it stays that way.” Malen turned away from him and back to the ponies. “Now, shall we have our tour?”
“No.” Twilight shook her head in barely restrained fury. “There’ll be no more talking, no more diplomacy, no more lies. Foalnapping and torturing children into becoming disposable soldiers? You can’t claim to just be ‘a different culture’ or ‘thinking on a larger scale’ to justify that. That’s evil. Pure evil. You humans aren’t going to be doing anything else in Equestria except leaving. I wish we could take your entire Empire apart and free everypony who suffers under your rule, but what we can do is stop you from spreading your tyranny here. Get off our world.”
“Haven’t we been here, before? Multiple times, in fact? You ponies really need to stop jumping to conclusions. The private was engaging in hyperbole. All CompForce troopers are adults, if fairly young ones, and they’re all volunteers. They all know what they’re getting into when they join up, so it’s not torture. They’re patriots, who are willing to endure extremely brutal conditions in order to become some of the best troops in the galaxy.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “And you expect me to trust you? After everything you’ve done? You’re even crazier than I thought.”
“If you don’t trust me, trust – Captain! Get away from her!” Orramas had sat down next to the still-sobbing Fluttershy and was stroking her mane.
He stood up hastily and walked over to stand by the Inquisitor. “He’s…” He threw the Inquisitor a nervous look. “He’s… essentially telling the truth. CompForce is made out of adult volunteers, and their casualties during training are well-known. However, nobody outside of the CompForce itself actually knows exactly what happens during the training, and to say that they’re any sort of quality troops would be fallacious. They’re used for three reasons: they’re totally loyal to the Emperor, traumatizing people costs less than giving them proper training, and fanatics will fight and die for next to no pay. It’s a disgu– er, rather unpleasant practice, but as long as the Emperor cares more about loyalty than competence, than it’s unlikely to stop.”
Malen glared at him, but didn’t make any move to kill him. Instead, he turned to address Twilight. “Yes, well… Look, are you going to go on the tour or not?”
She remained skeptical. “This is all too convenient. We see all sorts of evil inside your Empire, and then Fluttershy’s new human friend just happens to show up in time to defend it? She might trust him, but I don’t.”
The Inquisitor hissed, making both Twilight and Orramas leap away from him. “Fine,” he snarled, rancor in his voice. “You can interview some of the CompForce troopers yourself, if that makes you feel better. But don’t be surprised if they’d rather kill you than talk to you.”
She hadn’t expected such a concession. “Well… I guess that would be enough. But why would they want to kill us? Are they really that crazy?”
Orramas nodded. “Crazy, mixed with a large helping of fanatical. COMPNOR teaches that humanity’s twenty-five thousand years of dominance is empirical evidence that we’re inherently more fit to control the galaxy than all other species, and that it’s our duty as humans to rule over them for their own good. Combine this belief in their own superiority with the rather excessively violent tendencies the training tends to instill, and you get some rather strong speciesist opinions, sometimes bordering on xenocidal. It’s not universal – many of them simply believe in the exact teachings of COMPNOR – but it’s widespread enough for it to be a fairly common stereotype.” The ponies were once again appalled, and Malen once again glared at him. “What?” he protested. “They would have found out when they talked with them, so I might as well tell them why they’re like that.”
Rainbow Dash flew up to the captain and looked him dead in the eyes. “So! You come to Equestria – our home – and then say you’re better than us? You want to get bucked in the face, mister?”
“Ah, no thanks,” he quickly replied. “I much prefer my head on my neck, not several meters away. Look, not everyone believes that sort of thing. It’s just that humanocentrism is really common in the Core Worlds, and since that’s where Imperial Center is, the opinions of the locals and the government get sort of… confused sometimes. It’s not official policy – the Emperor himself has decried speciesism! Lord Amedda and Lady Moore are both nonhumans!”
Malen shoved Rainbow Dash out of the way and took her place directly in front of Orramas. “Hey!” she protested. “What do you think you’re –”
He silenced her with a stare. His face wasn’t twisted into a visage of anger – in fact, he looked quite passive. But there was a glint in his eyes that indicated a total loss of patience, that even the smallest thing could set him off. The information of the Inquisitor’s fight with the Princesses had been hidden from most of the public, but the Royal Sisters had told the Element-Bearers all about it, and Rainbow recalled how he had held his own against both of them at the same time. Once, she had confidently gone up against a full-grown dragon on her own. Since then, however, her friends’ more down-to-Earth influence had helped her come to terms with the fact that she couldn’t win every battle, and they had helped her learn which ones she should and shouldn’t fight. While she still often struggled with her arrogance, she got the distinct impression that this fit into the latter category. She glared at him, but backed off.
He gave her an indulging smile, as if to say, “Smart choice, weakling.” He then turned to face the other human. “Captain,” he said softly, his voice brimming with the threat of violence, “you aren’t helping. In fact, you’re just making us sound worse every time you open your mouth. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to sabotage us. Be. Quiet. I’ll handle the talking from here on. Return to your quarters.”
Orramas opened his mouth to argue, then seemed to think better of it. He gave a sharp salute, then turned and walked toward the main building. After a few steps, he paused for a moment to send a sad glance in the direction of Fluttershy, who was finally managing to regain her hooves, before hurrying off.
Sighing, Malen returned his gaze to Twilight. “Now, Your Highness: the tour?”





Twilight’s conversations with the CompForce troopers went just as Malen and Orramas had predicted. Many of them responded to her presence with hateful glares and what she assumed to be obscenities. The rest pitied her, talking down to her like she had no more intelligence than a first-year schoolfilly. However, the few who were willing to answer her questions confirmed that yes, they were all volunteers, their training was absurdly brutal, and they were all fanatical lunatics – or as they put it, all of the regular Army troops were almost treasonously apathetic.
She tried not to think about them as Malen led her and her friends through what he called “an IM-455 ‘Peacekeeper’ modular garrison.” The idea that these places were mass produced was a frightening one, to say the least. As the Inquisitor talked, she began to suspect that the purpose of the tour was less to build good relations, and more to scare her. He went into great detail about the capabilities of all the Imperials’ vehicles and destructive power of their weapons. Nonetheless, it was all very useful information to have – suspiciously so, in fact. Either he didn’t care that he was giving her a better idea of how to fight back, or he was spreading misinformation. She also noticed that there was a large section of the base he wasn’t showing them. As they once again passed by sealed door without him even mentioning it, she finally spoke up. “What’s through here? This is the fifth time we’ve walked past unmarked doors, and by my estimation, there’s almost of quarter of this place that you aren’t showing us.”
Malen’s eyes flickered away from her. “You noticed that, did you? That’s the detention center. It’s mostly empty – just a few troopers who got a bit too drunk and rowdy. Unless things turn… unpleasant between us, there’s no reason for that place to concern you, and I think you’ll understand why we might not want to let outsiders know how our tightest security procedures work.”
It made sense, but judging from everything else she knew about the Empire, she got the feeling that the real reason for his sudden discretion was that the living conditions were totally unpony.
“Before we finish the tour with the TIE fighter hangers,” Malen continued, “I’ve arranged for you to have a little chat with the base commander. Admiral Gavrisom didn’t approve, but he really couldn’t do anything about it. Come to think of it, the commander wasn’t very pleased either. Oh well. I’m sure you’ll have an… interesting conversation.”
He made it sound less like an intellectually stimulating debate, and more like a hate-filled shouting match. That was another thing about humans, Twilight noticed. They seemed to use a lot of fairly mild words, but say them in a way that implied something far, far worse. “Euphemisms,” she believed they were called – a far cry from the straightforward, honest speech most ponies preferred. Then again, ponies rarely had a reason to discuss the sorts of awful things the humans seemed to consider just a part of daily life. But maybe this mysterious “commander” would more open to learning about the magic of friendship than most of the other Imperial leaders she knew of. At the very least, he probably couldn’t be much worse. “All right, let’s talk to him.”