“Have you analyzed the damage yet?” Hera asked Twilight and Spike.
Twilight didn’t answer. She was deep in concentration, trying to assess the damage the craft sustained with an analysis spell. At last, she came out of her deep reverie.
“Oh, the engine’s damaged, all right,” she said. “You have a nasty crack in one of the carburetors and one of the terminals has fallen apart.”
“You can fix it, though, right?” Hera asked. She turned to face the stallions who Princess Celestia assigned to stand guard over the ship. For some reason, she was not nearly as comfortable with the guards as she was with Twilight.
“We’ll try,” Spike answered. He and Twilight had just started to unscrew the metal plating covering the engine.
“Do or do not. There is no try,” Hera responded.
“What does that even mean? How can you do something if you don’t try to do it?” Spike asked, confused.
“You see, what it means is . . . is . . .” Hera gave up. “Okay, I never understood what it meant either, but Master Yoda sure said it to Kanan a lot.”
“How did you meet Kanan, by the way?” Twilight asked curiously. She had just finished unscrewing and was now starting to tinker with the engines.
“Funny story, actually. I met him in a flophouse on Gorse. Back then, he worked odd jobs and would spend his check on the cantina, not to mention shamelessly flirt with the ladies. That is, of course, until he met me.”
“Why’s that?” Spike asked. “What happened after he met you?”
“Well, let’s just say that he finally managed to gain a purpose in life,” Hera said simply. “And as much as he would deny it back then, I knew that he was attracted to me.”
“I see,” Spike said, who was trying to figure out how the carburetors worked. “What about Ezra?”
Hera chuckled. “The first time I met that kid, he was stealing from us.”
Twilight dropped the piece of engine she was working with. “Seriously?”
“Oh yeah, he was a street rat back then. Wild, reckless, dangerous, and looking out only for himself. But it took some convincing to get him to join our cause.”
“What was he stealing from you?” Spike asked.
“Blasters, military-grade,” Hera said simply. “From what Sabine told me, he wanted to sell them on the black market. As if he would have gotten enough for them.”
“What about Zeb and Sabine?” Twilight asked, now closely inspecting the crack to the carburetor.
“As Pinkie told you, Zeb had the misfortune to witness the Empire massacre his entire race,” Hera responded. “Very few Lasats remain today, and none of them remain on Lasan, his homeworld. As for Sabine, she used to be an Imperial Academy student until a nightmarish experience in which the Empire negatively affected her family, causing her to rebel.”
“Uh-huh,” Twilight said, half-absentmindedly. She fiddled with the piece of engine. “Now, tell us about yourself. Pinkie said that you are an excellent pilot. When did you first decide that you wanted to fly ships?”
“I wanted to be a pilot ever since I was a little girl growing up during the Clone Wars,” Hera said. “My father was a freedom fighter who fought to free Ryloth from the Separatists. Unfortunately, by war’s end, the Empire had arrived, and they were worse. My father staged a rebellion that ultimately killed my mother.” She swallowed, as if holding back a painful memory. “Eventually, he became so driven by a desire to free our home that we sort of fell apart.” Twilight winced.
“I know how it feels to have a fight with someone you were close with,” she mumbled. “Hey Spike, see if the wires can reconnect for the north lateral of that terminal.”
“Huh?” Spike scratched his head in confusion.
“Fix that side,” Twilight translated.
“I wouldn’t do –“ Hera started, but Spike went ahead and did it anyway. Soon the engines started to power up, then burst. Smoke came out the
opening, spraying dirt and dust all over Spike, who turned to give Twilight a very dirty look.
Twilight chuckled nervously. “In hindsight, maybe we should not have gone that route.”
Hera sighed. “This is gonna take a while.” She covered her forehead with her hand.
-break--
Rainbow Dash quietly went up to the room where Kanan had slept the previous night. Ever since yesterday, she had had a burning curiosity, one that could not be solved any other way: She wanted to know what exactly were those blue sticks that he and Ezra were carrying. All she could gather was that they were weapons of some kind.
The room was dark. And quiet. Too quiet. Rainbow stepped in carefully, taking care not to step on anything. Something glinted in the darkness like one of Rarity’s diamonds. Upon closer examination, Rainbow realized it was the same weapon that Kanan threatened to use on her the previous night. She tried to pick it up with her hooves, but found, to her dismay, that she had trouble holding it properly. At last, when she managed to get a good, firm grip on it, a thick blue solid line shot straight out of it. Rainbow couldn’t help but be amazed. She moved it around, and the weapon whirred and hummed with energy. “Whoa,” she said softly. “What is this?”
“It’s mine,” said a voice from the doorway. Alarmed, Rainbow turned around sharply to see Kanan in the doorway, hands akimbo, wearing an expression of mild displeasure and annoyance. He held out his hand, and the weapon instantly switched off and flew from Rainbow Dash to him.
“Sorry,” Rainbow mumbled softly. “I was just . . . a bit carried away . . .”
“I don’t blame you,” Kanan responded. “My apprentice had the same reaction when he first saw it.”
“Jabba?” Rainbow Dash responded.
“His name is Ezra,” Kanan said. “And yes, he too was taken in by the wonders of my lightsaber.”
“Lightsaber?” Rainbow responded. “That is what these things are called?”
Kanan nodded. “It’s also known as a laser sword, an elegant weapon for a more civilized age. At one point, there were ten thousand Jedi Knights who wielded these weapons as part of their duty to bring balance to the Force. These days, there are very few surviving Jedi. You will be hard-pressed to find anyone who is willing to draw their lightsaber out in public.”
“Why? What happened?” Rainbow Dash asked, curious.
Kanan must have decided that he made a mistake in saying that, because he started to backtrack what he just said. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said, what happened was just, just too painful for me,” he started to say. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“What exactly happened to all the Jedi?” Rainbow asked, now a bit confused.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Kanan said, with a touch of despair in his voice. “You weren’t even there when it happened.” He turned away. Rainbow, seeing that he was not ready to talk, turned away and was about to leave when Kanan sighed deeply.
“It was near the end of the Clone Wars,” he started, his voice shaking. Rainbow turned around to listen. “Our fellow clone troopers, the ones who fought beside us for years, suddenly turned on us and betrayed us. I watched them kill my master.” His voice broke. The pegasus could not help but feel sorry for him. “She fought beside them for years and they gunned her down in less than a minute.” He turned to face Rainbow. “I could still hear her last word to me . . . run.” He sighed again. “Later, they came for me, said they were forced to do it because of chips planted in their brains. But I don’t believe them. I’m not sure what to believe anymore.”
The story left Rainbow stunned. Speechless. Silent. She could not believe that someone would do something so . . . evil. Sure, she may have been a bit of a jerk, and sure, she may be full of herself, but after all, there was a reason she was the bearer of the Element of Loyalty. And this man, who was right next to her, was a survivor, a victim . . . of something unfathomably horrible. All Rainbow could manage was a quiet, “I’m sorry.”
Kanan sighed. “It’s okay. It’s just . . . my master was the only family I had ever known, so losing her did some pretty big emotional damage. And things went downhill for me after that, until I met Hera and the others.”
“What about Jab- I mean, Ezra?”
“Poor kid. Lost his parents to the Imperials at the age of seven. Happened right on his birthday, too. Had to survive and fight for himself on the streets for almost eight years, until he became a rebel.”
This would explain why he almost broke down in front of Celestia, Rainbow thought to herself. The whole ordeal brought back bad memories for him. “Well, just so you know, I may be a bit egotistical, but I never leave a friend hangin’,” she said. “Just tell Ezra that if he needs somepony to talk to, I’ll be willing to listen.” She turned to leave. “Oh, and Kanan?”
“Yes, Rainbow Dash?”
“I don’t suppose I could get my own lightsaber, right?”
Kanan smiled a little. “Not likely, kiddo.”
“Oh, I see.” Rainbow Dash turned and left, a bit disappointed that she would not be getting a new weapon to show off to her friends.
-break--
Elsewhere, Pinkie Pie was giving Zeb a personal tour of Ponyville, hopping around while the Lasat followed her with his Bo-Rifle. Frankly, Zeb marveled that the pink pony could have so much energy and managed to have a positive outlook on almost anything.
“… and this is Sugarcube Corner, where I live and work,” Pinkie was saying, pointing to a building shaped like a cross between a loaf of bread and a cupcake with her bushy tail. “Oh, I haven’t introduced you to Gummy yet! Wait here!” She ran off.
“Oh, karabast,” Zeb sighed. He activated his comlink. “Spectre-4 to Spectre-5. Do you copy?”
“I read you loud and clear, Specter-4.” Sabine’s voice came out over the comlink.
“I don’t suppose you are finished with . . . whatever it is that you are doing, right?” Zeb responded.
“Not even close. Why?”
“The pink one is starting to get on my nerves.” He honestly felt that he could not take much more of this. Any minute now his innards would melt from her cheerful sappiness.
“Oh come now, darling,” said a completely new but somehow familiar voice. “Sure, Pinkie Pie may be a bit hyper, but she’s just trying to help.”
“Rarity has a point,” Sabine added. “Besides, after what the Imperials put you through, it’s about time you actually had a bit of good cheer.”
“The only thing that would make me happy is knocking some bucketheads together,” Zeb mumbled. Then he realized he must have said it out loud, because he added as an afterthought, “But I suppose I could to get along with her. I mean, what harm could there possibly be?”
“Zeb!” Pinkie’s voice rang out from the entrance of the bakery.
“Oh karabast,” Zeb said. “Gotta go!” He signed out on the comlink and ran over to where Pinkie was standing. She had a baby alligator standing on her back. At once, he could see why the gator’s name was Gummy: The alligator had no teeth whatsoever.
“Isn’t he adorable?” Pinkie asked, giving Zeb a cute smile.
“Uhhh . . . sure?” Zeb asked.
Pinkie’s smile widened. “Thanks.” She put her ear to Gummy’s jaws as if he were whispering something to her. “Gummy says he likes you.”
“Uhhh . . . thanks, Gummy,” Zeb responded, obviously at a loss for anything else to say. He felt a bit silly talking to something that he wasn’t even sure was capable of speech yet. “So . . . I don’t suppose there is anywhere else left in the city you’d like to show me, do you?”
“Well, I was going to show you my family’s rock farm,” Pinkie said slowly, “but I think that can wait till later, because I want to show you the Apple family farm! Who knows, we could even say hello to Applejack!”
“Uh, sure, why not?” Zeb agreed. “Let’s go there right now, if you want!”
A few minutes later, the pair were making their way through the marketplace. As Zeb passed by, ponies stopped to gaze at him, and Zeb had to fight the urge to yell at or strangle them. Every time he voiced his concerns to Pinkie, she just told him to pay no mind and just keep going, which, in his opinion, was easier said than done.
At last, they went down a dirt path that led out of the city. Pinkie was hopping and chatting about what her life on the rock farm was like. Zeb felt a bit bored; it had been a long time since he had beaten up any stormtroopers. Just then something caught the corner of his eye. He took a look at Pinkie, and trusting that she would be wise enough to stay out of the way, stole off the path he was going and hid behind a large coniferous tree. He peeked around and what he saw next made his jaw drop in terror.
A large, floating, jellyfish-like robot was floating right in front of him. Zeb unsheathed his Bo-Rifle and turned into a gun. He had known these robots all too well on Lothal: they were Imperial probe droids.
Zeb’s finger went to the trigger of his weapon. One well-placed shot and the droid would be no more. He aimed his weapon . . . steady now . . . ready . . . aim . . .
“ZEB!”
The sheer force of the outburst caught him off-guard, and the Bo-Rifle went off. Zeb turned to see that Pinkie had somehow caught up with him and his hideout even though he knew for a fact that it was a long way between her last known position and where both of them were now. Zeb looked back. The probe droid was wildly scanning the area, looking for the source of the noise and the shot. After a while, however, it decided it must have been interpreting things incorrectly, and went back to doing its reconnaissance. Zeb sighed with relief, then turned angrily to Pinkie.
“Karabast! What do you think you are doing?” he whispered furiously to her. “And how did you get here so quickly?”
Pinkie smiled innocently. “Oh Zeb, it’s one of my abilities; I can pop out of anywhere at any time.”
Zeb stared at her in confusion. “Seriously?”
“Uh huh!” Pinkie nodded. “I also can interact with whoever is reading this right now!”
Zeb’s jaw dropped so that he looked even more clueless than usual. He quickly got ahold of himself and motioned to the probe droid. “You see that?”
Pinkie’s eyes followed to where Zeb was pointing. Her eyes alighted with excitement. “Oooh! Who is that? Another one of your rebel friends?”
“I . . . wha . . . of course not!” he hissed. “It is not one of ours!”
Pinkie waved a hoof dismissively. “Oh, silly, maybe we can make him into a friend! Here, hold Gummy for me!” She took off and landed in front of the probe droid. “Hi there! My name is Pinkie Pie! Who are you?”
The droid hovered in front of her, as if assessing and analyzing her. Then, almost without warning, it started shooting lasers at the pink pony, who was scrambling frantically to get out of the way.
“Why-are-you-such-a-big-meanie?” she wailed, as the probe droid started to switch to multi-fire mode. Zeb, having had enough, and not wanting her to get hurt, got out of hiding and yelled, “OI! OVER HERE!” The droid took the bait and started attacking Zeb with all its firepower. But not for nothing was Garazeb Orrelios the Captain of the Lasan Honor Guard. He rolled out of the way and started shooting at the droid. At last, one of the shots hit the probe droid, disabling it.
After they both caught their breath, Pinkie was staring from the droid to Zeb and back again, and finally said, “What was that?”
“I was trying to tell you,” Zeb snarled. “It was an Imperial probe droid, sent most likely by Agent Kallus to discern if there was a rebel presence here.”
“That thing was Imperial?” Pinkie’s eyes widened in shock, as the implications of her actions set in. “That means . . .”
“The Empire now knows that there is a rebel presence in Ponyville, Equestria,” Zeb finished grimly.
“Oops,” Pinkie said, ashamed of herself.