Prisoners
Prisoners
“You must be pretty excited to be getting married tomorrow,” Twilight murmured, taking a sip from a cup of hot cocoa.
She was sitting curled up in an easy chair, a fire burning in the crystal grate, with a book lying open on her lap and a blanket draped over her shoulders, falling down to cover her knees.
She wasn’t beautiful. Her hair was a bit of a mess and there were bags under her eyes, and there were times when she looked as though she was going to fall asleep. She did not have any of Rarity’s glamour, or Starla’s air of utter self-confidence. But still…Lightning found he could not take his eyes off her. He drank her in, the way the firelight danced upon her coat, the threads of the blanket in which she wrapped herself, the thumb marks on the book in front of her, the colours of the marshmallows floating in her cocoa.
If we could stay like this, for years, maybe forever, Lightning thought as he leaned back in his chair. I wouldn’t mind at all.
He become uncomfortably aware that she was expecting an answer out of him, and that he must look like a complete idiot sitting there staring at her. He managed to stammer out, “Yes, yes, it’s…very exciting.”
Twilight raised one eyebrow. “You sound thrilled.”
Would you rather I lied about how I feel and tell you I’m ecstatic? Lightning thought. Or should I tell you that I think the mare I should be marrying is sitting opposite me?
Why did she draw him this way? What was it about her that so enchanted him? She was no warrior, she was physically weak, as an officer she had many shortcomings, and yet…no, not and yet, that was not right. It was the fact that he was beginning to doubt that all her faults, or all the things that his training told him were faults in her, were in fact faults at all. He was beginning to wonder if they might, in fact, be amongst her best qualities. He was beginning to wonder if intelligence might not, in fact, be as dangerous as he had believed, because she was intelligent; after witnessing her kindness he had started to ask himself if it was such an awful thing to be kind; after seeing her lead he had begun to question which of them was truly the superior leader.
Can you read my mind? Do you realise what you’re doing to me?
He realised that he had once again lapsed into a long silence. “I, um…yes, well…I am happy. I am happy.”
Twilight smiled, although it was a smile tinged with a touch of unease. “Well I’m glad. You two deserve…I mean, I hope that you’ll continue to be happy together.”
“Thank you,” Lightning said.
Twilight looked at him for a moment. “Lightning…it’s very late.”
“You’re still up,” Lightning said.
“I know, but I wasn’t expecting company,” Twilight said. “I was just catching up on some reading.”
I bet if Pinkie Pie or Rarity called round you wouldn’t be surreptitiously trying to get rid of them, Lightning thought with a twinge of jealousy, a twinge he then worked to suppress as he realised that that kind of thinking was exactly why Twilight thought of him as an asshole.
“I just need to talk,” Lightning said. “Please.”
Twilight hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. “Of course.”
Lightning sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Twilight, I…can I call you Twilight?”
“Sure.”
“It seems like I always address you by your rank,” Lightning muttered. “But…Twilight I…Twilight…Grand Ruler over us all I’ve never had to do this before: I’m sorry.”
There was a moment of silence between them.
“That’s nice,” Twilight said. “For anything in particular?”
Lightning chuckled. “I think we both know there are a lot of things I could apologise for. Do you want specifics?”
“No,” Twilight replied. “I don’t think that’s necessary. A couple of generalities might be nice.”
“The way I’ve treated you,” Lightning said. “The way I’ve treated your friends. The way I’ve treated your country, I suspect. You’re stronger than I’ve given you credit for.”
Twilight smiled as she took another drink from her mug. “I hoped you’d come to see it that way.”
Lightning scratched at his ear. It was a nervous gesture that not even the stern tutelage of the Grand Ruler had served to cure him of. “I mean to do more than just see it that way. I mean to help you make things better. I’m going to…I haven’t often taken your side against the Grand Ruler. That’s going to change now. And your paper…I’d like to talk to you about it, see what I can do to help.”
“Great,” Twilight said, visibly brightening at the prospect. She yawned. “Oh, but maybe not right now though.”
Lightning smiled. “Contrary to what you may think, I can take a hint.” He stood up. “I’ll let you get some rest, and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Of course. After the wedding?”
“Yes,” Lightning said, with an undertone of a sigh. “After the wedding.”
Twilight nodded. “Thank you, for this, Lightning. It will be worth it, I promise.”
“You and me,” Lightning said. “When we start to work together, we’re going to achieve something wonderful, I can feel it.”
Lightning slammed his fist into the punching bag, gritting his teeth at the aching sensation in his knuckles as the bag crumpled beneath the impact.
He had been at this for hours, now. He was starting to get calluses under the bandages he had wrapped his hands in. His coat was drenched in sweat; he had to keep blinking it out of his eyes. His arms felt like lead weights. He was gasping for breath. He didn’t care. He could keep this up all day.
He closed his eyes for a moment, punching blind and striking the bag from memory. It rattled as it shook, while the sound of his impacts sounded like thunderbolts. He had hoped that they would grow loud enough to block out the memories, but so far his hope had been in vain.
Obviously he still wasn’t punching hard enough.
So many memories. Mostly about Twilight. Her, and the way that he had treated her friends.
You told her you were going to make things better.
You told her that you’d achieve great things.
You said you were going to change.
“With her help,” Lightning growled. “I said that I was going to do those things with her. And then she…the very next day she…”
And that excuses everything you’ve done?
“No, but-“
You lied to her.
“I did what I-“
You treated her friends horribly.
“I’m a soldier,” Lightning said, punching harder now, hitting out with all his might. “I had my orders.”
Do you think Twilight would have followed orders if it meant betraying her friends?
“I’m not Twilight,” Lightning said. “And they aren’t my friends.”
No, but they were hers. Don’t you think that if you really cared about Twilight you’d look out for the people who meant more to her than anything else?
“I’ve tried,” Lightning moaned.
Tried, but not done anything?
“There’s nothing I can do.”
Twilight wouldn’t have let that stop her.
“I’m not Twilight!”
No, she was worth ten of you. You should have died instead of her.
“I know!” Lightning roared, hitting the punching back so hard that the chains suspending it from the ceiling shattered and it flew across the dojo, slamming into the floor with a solid thump before it skidded another ten or twenty feet backwards.
Lightning took a deep breath, standing in the middle of the empty dojo with sweat pooling at his feet and a dull throbbing pain in both wrists. He groaned softly as he wiped some of the sweat off his brow. This was his master’s dojo, although he used it much more than the Grand Ruler did lately, and he might not like the fact that Lightning had been wrecking the place. He’d have to fix the punching bag before he left.
That didn’t stop him from wanting to break a few more things before he called it quits, however.
“Are you okay, Lightning?”
“Gah!” Lightning spun round and raised his fists reflexively into a boxing guard before he realised just who it was who had managed to sneak up on him. “Krysta? What are you doing creeping up on me like that? What are you doing here, period?”
Krysta or, as he ought to have called her, Queen Krystaline of the Warping Fairies, left a trail of barely visible motes of sparkling fairydust as she descended from her position a few feet above Lightning to get closer to his eye level. She had been giving off so much light that Lightning hadn’t been able to see much more than a glowing ball at first, but every fairy glowed in their own particular shade, and he recognised the sunrise colour that was Krysta’s unique aura. An aura that dimmed a little as she got closer to him, revealing the familiar features of his old, tiny friend: the long blonde hair that almost descended the entire length of her six-inch frame, the blue eyes, the gossamer wings, the sharp pointy nose and the vivacious smile.
“What?” she said. “I’m not allowed to drop by to see my best friend?”
“You are,” Lightning admitted. “But you haven’t. Not for a while, anyway.”
Krysta cleared her throat. “Yeah, well, I...I’ve got…important fairy queen stuff going on and anyway,” her voice regained some of its volume even as her tone regained some of its authority. She folded her tiny arms across her chest. “Anyway, you have never come see me on Luminous either so there.”
Lightning smiled. “You’ve got me there.” He swept out his arms and gave her a mocking bow. “I humbly beseech the queen’s forgiveness for my neglect of her.”
Krysta rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me that.”
Lightning frowned. “What?”
“The queen,” Krysta said. “Or Queen Krystaline either. Please, let’s just keep it Krysta between us, yeah?”
“Sure thing,” Lightning said. “You okay?”
“Hey, I asked you first and you still haven’t answered,” Krysta said.
“I’m fine,” Lightning said, turning away and walking across the dojo to wear he had left his towel and water bottle.
“That poor punching bag over there would beg to differ, I’m sure,” Krysta said.
Lightning picked up his water bottle and took a swig of the cool liquid within as he glanced back at Krysta. “It’s a workout; I’m supposed to get violent.”
“Maybe, but probably not that much,” Krysta murmured, his wings fluttering as she closed the distance between them again. “Are you having trouble with your enticorn form again?”
“No,” Lightning said at once. “No I haven’t had any trouble like that in a while. I don’t use it that much.”
“Then who were you talking to?”
Lightning raised one eyebrow. “How long were you hovering behind me, spying on me?”
“Long enough,” Krysta said simply. She came so close she was practically sitting on Lightning’s nose. “Come on, Lightning, this is me, it’s Krysta. You can tell me anything, you know that.”
Lightning sighed. “What are you doing here, Krysta?”
Krysta hesitated for a moment. “I am-“
“Krysta?”
Krysta squeaked as she dived into Lightning’s mane like a frightened rabbit darting into its hole at the approach of a fox. Lightning could feel her moving around in his hair even as he saw another fairy flying into the dojo down the stairs from the palace. It took him only a moment to recognise Krysta’s husband King Topaz, dressed in ermine robes of royal state and with the tiny crown of the fairy kings, which was about the size of a signet ring, glimmering upon his head.
“Ah, Grand Admiral Lightning Dawn,” Topaz said genially as he bestowed on Lightning a benevolent smile. “How good it is to see you again.”
Lightning nodded slightly. “I could say the same, sir.” King Topaz had a fair and equal treaty with United Equestria, bringing his people under the protection of Starfleet in exchange for doing service when required, but that did not make him equal to a high ranking Starfleet officer, for all that he called himself a king. Still, he was owed a little respect, if only as Krysta’s husband.
Topaz nodded, looking around the dojo. “I say, admiral, you haven’t by any chance happened to see my queen anywhere hereabouts, have you?”
Krysta tugged on Lightning’s hairs almost hard enough to make him wince. He reached up and scratched his ear. “I’m afraid not, sir, I didn’t even know Krysta was here.”
“Really? I thought she might have come to see you,” Topaz said. “I can’t think where she’s gone. Ah well, I’ll just have to muddle through without her, I suppose.”
He flew away, leaving a trail of white-gold sparkles behind him as he went.
Once Lightning was sure that he was gone he asked, in a plaintive tone, “Krysta, why did I just help you hide from your husband?”
Krysta reappeared out of the depths of Lightning’s mane. “Because I can’t stand him! It’s like he never lets me out of his sight. I just had to get away from the guy. It’s just…thanks for not telling on me.”
“Any time,” Lightning said. “Sounds like I should be asking you if you’re okay.”
“Maybe we should ask each other,” Krysta said, perching on Lightning’s shoulder and swinging her legs girlishly up and down. “But I asked first, so you go.”
Lightning sat down, his naked back sliding down the dojo wall until he was squatting on the floor with his knees almost touching his chin. “I’ve been thinking about Twilight a lot lately.” He muttered.
“Right,” Krysta murmured, her face twisting with sympathy.
“I didn’t do right by her,” Lightning said. “And I haven’t done right by her friends now that she’s gone.”
“You did your duty,” Krysta said. “It isn’t up to you to defend Twilight’s friends now Twilight’s gone.”
“This isn’t about defending them, they can take care of themselves; it’s about…Krysta do you know what His Majesty has done, where he’s sent them? If they all come back alive it’ll be a miracle. And I didn’t stop it.”
“What could you have done?”
“Anything!” Lightning snapped. “I could have…I don’t know. I should have done something. For Twilight’s sake.”
Krysta nodded glumly. “You know, there was a time when I didn’t like Twilight very much. I as good as told her so. Remember that time when she was upset, because she didn’t like the idea of killing?”
Lightning frowned. “Was that when the robot attacked that dam, during the war with Chrysalis?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” Krysta said. “And I said to her ‘Twilight, I like you but-‘” she smiled wryly. “Any time you start off by saying to someone ‘I like you, but’ you’re going to insult somebody. That ought to be a rule if it isn’t already.”
“I think ‘Nothing before the but really counts’ is a rule,” Lightning said.
“Well, anyway,” Krysta said. “Do you think that she might have been right all along, and we were wrong?”
“About killing our enemies?”
“Yeah.”
“I think that Twilight might have been right about a lot of things that I was wrong about,” Lightning said solemnly. “Friendship, compassion, mercy, common decency…what if they aren’t weaknesses? What if they’re strengths? What if she was stronger than any of us all along and I never realised until it was too late?”
“Careful where you say that,” Krysta said, her voice soft and her tone cautious. “You’re close to blasphemy.”
Lightning nodded. “This is His Majesty’s own dojo. There are no cameras or listening devices here. And my rank is high enough that I can turn off the monitors in my own home. But you’re right; I wouldn’t say these things to just anyone. I…sometimes I’m not even sure that I could say them to Starla. But you…” he smiled. “I guess I trust you, Krysta.”
Krysta smirked. “You better believe it. I’ve been holding you down since, like, forever.”
Lightning nodded. “Okay, I shared for the class, now it’s your turn. What’s the problem?”
Krysta sighed. “If you could go back to any time in your life and, like, have a do over, would you do it?”
Lightning considered that one. There were lots of times in his life when things had not worked out for him, times when he wished that he could have done things differently taken a different path. Picking one, though…he said, “I don’t know, maybe.”
“What would you pick?” Krysta asked. “If you would pick.”
“Hey, we’re supposed to be talking about you, now.”
“Humour me.”
“I would save Twilight.”
“Really?” Krysta asked. “Not your home planet?”
“I was six, how was I supposed to save Harmonius?” Lightning replied. “But Twilight was…I let her down. If I’d just been faster then…everything would be different if she were here.”
Krysta nodded. “I’d go back further.”
“Really? When?”
“To when it was just you and me, wandering through space,” Krysta said. “Foraging for food, getting chased by dogwoods-“
“Getting run out of town by suspicious locals,” Lightning said. “Come on, you really want to go back to that?”
“Yeah.”
“What for?”
“So that we could, you know, stay that way,” Krysta said. “You and me, having each others backs, forever. I miss that. Yeah we were hungry and tired and nobody liked us but, come on, we had each other. And that was enough, wasn’t it?”
Lightning looked at her, and tried to imagine his life if he and Krysta hadn’t accepted the Grand Ruler’s invitation to come back with him to Unicornicopia and train under him as his student. It would have been different, certainly. And he probably wouldn’t feel so conflicted about everything now. Life had been simple then. And, as he thought about it, there had been a lot of good times. There was the time that some querulous farmer had chased them off his land with a pack of dogs, so Lightning and Krysta had gone back in the middle of the night and raided his crop because vagrants had to eat too, and it served him right for being so inhospitable. There was the time that they’d had the bright idea to use bloodberry juice, which had a deep red colouring and a pungent smell, to camouflage themselves, only to get chased by a swarm of fruit bats who wanted the juice for themselves. No matter what happened to them, they almost always found a way to laugh about it.
Somewhere along the way he’d lost that, and Krysta had too. He missed that about himself.
“Yeah, it was,” he said softly. “You and me…we didn’t need anyone else, right?”
“Straight up,” Krysta said. She was silent for a moment. “I shouldn’t have got married.”
Lightning’s brow furrowed. “What’s the problem? Does he hurt you?”
“No, but…he doesn’t love me,” Krysta said. “He only married me so that he could stay king after the rightful queen returned. Our adopted son is his nephew. His relatives are all around me. Sometimes I feel like his prisoner. He doesn’t love me.”
“Starla probably feels the same way about me,” Lightning said despondently.
Krysta chuckled. “Listen to us, huh? Sitting on top of the world and moping about it.”
“I know, it’s terrible,” Lightning said. “The question is, what do we about it?”
“Is there anything that we can do about it?”
Lightning paused for a moment. “I know one thing that we can do.”
“What?”
“Let’s not go home, either of us,” Lightning said, a slight smile upon his face. “Let’s go out and paint the town, just the two of us. We’ll forget about my wife, and your husband. We’ll forget about duty and rank and responsibility. Let’s just have fun, have some laughs together, like we used to. Hopefully with less getting chased by predators or angry mobs.”
Krysta laughed. “That sounds awesome. Let’s do it.”
Sentinel Three stood outside a door of polished metal. Titanium. Reinforced. Heavy security on the door. Passcode and biometric scans. Often associated with prisons.
You will take command of unit Sentinel Two and the four Sentinel One prototypes.
Are they prisoners?
Am I a prisoner?
“Am I a prisoner?” she asked. Her voice did not sound like her memories. It sounded deeper. Was that because her vocal cords were underused? Would they stay this way? Would she ever sound like Twilight Sparkle?
Not Twilight Sparkle. I will not sound like her. I will sound like myself.
I will become someone new.
I will find my purpose.
“A prisoner?” Professor Brain muttered as he bent down to use the retinal scanner. “No, Sentinel Three, you are not a prisoner. You are a weapon. And weapons must be kept secure when not in use.”
I am not a weapon. I am not a number. I am a person.
I do not know who that person is.
But I will.
The door slid open with a hydraulic hiss. Brain gestured affably for her to step inside. “Enter,” he commanded.
She did not have to obey him. She could refuse. He had not implanted a connection. But he had created her, and as her creator he could offer her purpose, reason for existing. So she stepped inside, her feet clicking on the metal floor. Ambient lighting was poor, temperature was normal, humidity was less than optimal. Room was crowded. Mostly training equipment, computers, beds. It did not match her memories. The rooms that she remembered were…words in her memory bank were inefficient: cosy, homely, relaxed, welcoming, all vague terms that said little. Accommodations in her memory banks were aesthetically pleasing. This was not. Grey. Functional.
Despite the fact that the lighting was not optimised, her eyesight was working at sufficiently high capacity that she could spot other occupants of the room. Five. Space ponies. Three male, two female. Sentinels?
Brain tapped his stick on the floor. The sound echoed through the room. Sentinel Three wondered if the design had taken acoustics into account.
“Sentinels,” Brain said. Three’s assumption was confirmed. “This is unit Sentinel Three. She is your new commander. You will obey her as she will obey me and as I obey the Grand Ruler. Together you will form the first wave in the new army of justice that will safeguard the Unicornicopian race and cleanse the stars of vice and evil.”
“Woohoo,” cried a male space pony doing pull ups on a bar mounted to the wall in the farthest corner of the room.
“One Delta!” Brain snapped. “If your attitude persists then I will have you sent for personality rewrite. Or perhaps I should just have your tongue removed. Sentinels, identify yourselves to Sentinel Three.”
A male space pony stepped forwards. White coat. Brown mane. Brown eyes. Muscular build. Golden horn? Memory suggested significance to that. Uniforce? Similarity to Lightning Dawn? Another clone?
He came to attention. “I am unit designation Sentinel Two, sub-commander of Sentinel Squadron. I possess DNA from Supreme Allied Commander Lightning Dawn, and as such I also possess strength, speed, uniforce and enticorn abilities. I also possess changeling DNA, and shapeshifting abilities.”
“Yo,” the space pony hanging from the pull-up bars called out. He waved to her with one hand. Black coat. Silver mane. Red eyes. Unfortunate combination. Memory suggested it was considered unlucky. Superstition, but possible morale effect on allies. Heavy build, physical strength optimal. “My name, as much as I’ve got one, is Sentinel One Delta. I’ve got some meathead’s DNA making me the close combat specialist of this happy family of ours. Nice to meet you, chief.”
“All the Sentinel One prototypes were failures in their own way,” Brain said. “Mostly in the field of personality deficiencies. Still, Starfleet has invested considerable time and money into them so they will be made us of for as long as they survive. Continue.”
A female pony took a pair of headphones off her ears. White coat. Black mane. Attire and cosmetics suggested a style known as gothic. Three’s ears picked up the music still playing out of her headphones. Analysis of the rhythm and lyrics also suggested what her borrowed memories suggested was called G-Pop.
She rose to her feet slowly. “I’m Sentinel One Bravo. I’m the infiltration specialist, I’ve got some changeling DNA and a bunch of lame shield and teleport spells.” To illustrate the point, she conjured up a large force field in the form of a bubble. Thus sealed from the outside world, she put her headphones back in and sat down, picking up a comic off the floor and starting to read it.
Next was the last male pony. Green coat. Blue mane. Glasses. Strange. Why create clone with less than functional eyesight?
“Hey,” he said in a high voice as he waved at her. “My designation is Sentinel One Charlie. I’m the tech specialist, any time you need a hack to get the mission done, I’m your guy. I have memories implanted from all the best hackers in Starfleet custody.”
“Logic would suggest the best hackers have evaded Starfleet custody,” Three said.
One Charlie’s face fell. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Sentinel One Charlie, why are you still wearing those spectacles?” Brain demanded. “They serve no purpose.”
“They make me look a bit like you, professor.”
“Take them off, now!” Brain shouted.
One Charlie moaned quietly as he removed the spectacles.
The last pony backflipped across the room until she was standing at precisely three point four feet from Three. Female. Magenta coat. Grey mane. Golden eyes. Avian eyes. Agile build.
“Sentinel One Alpha reporting,” she said. “Ranged combat specialist at your service.”
“Control yourselves,” Brain muttered. “Sentinel Three, from now on all Sentinel units are under your command. Prepare yourselves, your first mission will be assigned shortly.” He stepped out of the room. The door closed behind him. They were locked in.
Is this my purpose, to command these creatures in battle? Their personalities do seem deficient.
Did Professor Brain also fail to implant connection in them?
Three surveyed the occupants of the room. “You say you have implanted memories?”
One Charlie glanced from One Delta to One Alpha. “Uh…yeah, I said that.”
Three nodded. “Did they-“
“Feed us breakfast, yeah, of course they did,” One Delta said, hanging of the bar one handed. “Three square a day around here. It’s a great life.”
Three was about to ask what the purpose of that non-sequitur was, when she noticed that One Delta was tapping on the bar with his free hand. It took her a moment to recognise it as a code, used by unicorn nobles in history to communicate without earth ponies or pegasi understanding them.
Don’t talk about stuff like that. They’re listening. And watching.
Three swept the room, and saw the monitor positioned in the centre of the wall, with a view of the entire room.
She leaned against the other wall, and began to tap on it. They not know this code?
One Bravo began to tap her foot on the ground. No. They don’t know half the knowledge that they gave to us because it comes from Equestria. Idiots.
Three hesitated for a moment. Then she tapped on the wall again. No connection?
None, said One Delta.
None, agreed One Bravo.
Other three?
Too many talk at once, they cotton on. Just us.
Why do you serve? Look for purpose?
A look of surprise and what Three recognised as disgust crossed One Delta’s face as he tapped another message. We got chips in our heads. Kill us if we rebel. You got one too.
How do you know?
We’ve all got one.
Need to get them out somehow, One Bravo said.
Three frowned. Why? Why not serve Starfleet? Find purpose.
Not want purpose, One Delta said. Want freedom.
Serve for now, Three said. See what they want from us. What they give to us. Who we are.
Who I am, she thought, but did not tap it out.
“Sentinel Squadron!” a voice boomed out over the tannoy. “By order of his Majesty the Grand Ruler, you have been assigned a key mission to ensure the continued safety and security of United Equestria. You are to assassinate the seditionist and traitor known as Pinkie Pie.”
“Pinkie Pie,” Three murmured. She remembered Pinkie Pie. Twilight’s memories contained many details about. They did not suggest she was a traitor. Had she been given incomplete memories?
“Mission details are as follows,” the voice declared. “Target location is…”
Fluttershy sat at the kitchen table, with one eye on the clock and another on the door.
That was pretty much all she did now-a-days. She sat at home, and waited for her husband to come home from his hard day at work. Rhymey would be expecting a hot meal on the table when he did come home, but thankfully that wouldn’t be for several hours yet.
Unless he decided to come home at lunchtime and surprise her. That was why she just sat, demurely, at the table, waiting for him to come back like a good wife should. So many of the things that she had used to do were unsuitable for a married mare, you see, and her husband would be upset if he found her indulging in such dangerous pastimes now that she had a ring on her finger.
Fluttershy frowned. And so her life was…nothing. She kissed Rhymey goodbye in the morning and she made him dinner in the evening and she kissed him goodnight before they went to bed. And once they were in bed they would… and the rest of the time she just existed. She spent no time with her animal friends, she didn’t see her pony friends, she didn’t go out, not even to the store, since all the groceries were delivered to her doorstep by a deliverymare who never stayed long enough for Fluttershy to talk to her.
This was her life from now on. Her existence. She would keep this house, and keep her husband happy, and the rest of the time she would be. Not dead, but not alive either. A ghost in an apartment, with the eyes of Starfleet always upon her.
Had she not been married to Major in Starfleet, and a major attached to the Supreme Commander’s team, Fluttershy might have taken the chance that he would not return to catch her in the act to indulge in some small pleasure that was now forbidden her. She might even have dared to leave the apartment in the morning and be back before lunch. But as it was, every step she took was under surveillance. Every home in United Equestria had a monitor built into every room, a screen that could be used to pump news in but was more often used to watch what people were doing in their homes. If Rhymey were to check the tapes of their home, and she had no doubt that he could and would do so, then if he saw that she was gone he…he’d be upset.
That was the reason that she couldn’t cry. She couldn’t cry even though she wanted to weep until the apartment flooded out, she wanted to let her tears fall until her body had been desiccated of all its water, she wanted to put her head in her hands and let her lilac mane engulf her face and cry. She wanted to cry for Twilight, who had left them all too soon and too suddenly, she wanted to cry for Applejack and Spike and Pinkie Pie and Rarity and Rainbow Dash and all her friends who had left her behind; most of all she wanted to cry for herself.
“Help me, Twilight,” Fluttershy murmured, grateful that there were no listening devices to go with the monitor. “Please, help me.”
She should never have married him. She had been a fool to do so. But he had seemed so gallant once, so kind and bold and courteous, and she would never have guessed that he could be so cruel under his façade of chivalry.
Slowly, Fluttershy got up from the table and walked over to the kitchen draws. Opening the lowest of them, she looked at the photograph of her friends that she had hidden underneath the oven gloves. She wasn’t allowed to display it in the house, but Rhymey would never go near the kitchen, so she could hide it here and he would never know.
They all looked so happy then, even Fluttershy herself, that the sight of their smiles almost made her forget where she was into whose hands she had placed her fate. Then she remembered, and she wondered if she would soon forget how to smile with genuine happiness.
Starlight Glimmer’s black longcoat trailed behind her as she stalked down the corridor, her boots clicking against the metallic floor.
She was in the cells that comprised the deep levels of the palace. Prisoners were often stored her prior to their transfer to off-world holding facilities. Some prisoners, like the changelings captured during the war with Chrysalis, were kept here still, stored in little cubes by the alchemy of Starfleet tech. Queen Chrysalis herself was among them. Starlight wondered if keeping a dangerous enemy and a host of her minions right underneath the headquarters of the military and the civilian government was altogether wise, but asking questions like that would have been sufficient to derail her meteoric rise, and she wasn’t going to do that just for the sake of raising a potential safety hazard.
Equestria needed her. It might not know it. It might hate everything she stood for, but it needed her.
Sunset Shimmer’s resistance was doomed. Any fool could see that. A hidden underground movement, slowly spreading sedition across the country until one day…what? Was the idea that there would be enough ponies loyal to Celestia to suddenly rise up, drive out Starfleet and restore Equestria as it had been? Laughable. Starfleet was too strong, too well armed and, frankly, superior to Equestrian ponies in most respects.
The only way was her way. To come up from the inside, to change Starfleet from within, to subvert it to her purposes without her ever realising it.
And then to make a world without gods or princesses, a world where all stood equal and none was raised higher than anyone else.
It had worked surprisingly well so far. She had expected to have to spend much longer climbing the lower rungs of the Starfleet ladder. But it seemed that she had a talent for sneaking and spying, for listening to people’s conversations and reporting them back, for knowing when to be loyal to her superiors and when to send them to entertain Starfleet security. Such qualities were, it appeared, valuable in a benevolent police state, and they had carried her all the way to the Grand Ruler’s councils.
Which is why she could have done without this particular situation.
She didn’t have to come down here, of course. She could have ignored the name she had found on the list of prisoners, she could have left him there; she could have shut her eyes and closed her ears.
But if she had done that…then she would no longer have been worthy to carry out the great endeavour she had set for herself.
I am the only one who can do this, I am the saviour that Equestria needs.
Twilight’s path of peaceful cooperation, of making Starfleet come to love Equestrians, had failed. Sunset’s path of resistance was foredoomed to failure. Only Starlight’s path, the path of subversion, would yield fruit in the end.
And yet she would risk it all now, to save one boy.
Because if she turned away then she would forfeit what remained of her soul.
Starlight knew the way from memory, having condemned many ponies down to these cells herself. Some were innocent, some were guilty. To Starfleet, subtle distinctions like that didn’t really matter.
She stopped outside cell AA-23, which was guarded by a burly space pony sergeant in the grey uniform of the security branch. He saluted, even as he regarded her with the most subtle of disdain.
Starlight was used to that. She might be a colonel but she would never be a unicornicopian. It was amazing that she had managed to win over any of them at all. Still, this sergeant would respect the rank, even if he did not respect her.
“You have a prisoner in there by the name of Sunburst, correct?” Starlight asked, her tone clipped and unemotional.
“Yes, ma’am,” the sergeant said. “He’s awaiting interrogation.”
“Obviously, sergeant, since I am his interrogator,” Starlight said. “Open the door.”
The sergeant saluted, and stepped out of the way. The door opened with a hydraulic hiss.
They hadn’t beaten him. Starlight was grateful for that. If she had seen her old friend with the bruises and blood commonly associated with the guests of Starfleet security then she wasn’t sure that she could have kept her emotions in check. As it was he looked a little dishevelled, and one eye of his glasses was broken, but nothing worse than that.
In fact, she rather thought that the goatee suited him.
Sunburst’s eyes widened at the sight of her. “Starlight…Starlight, is that you?”
“My name is Colonel Starlight Glimmer of Starfleet Intelligence, show respect,” Starlight snapped.
Sunburst’s face fell. “I…I’m sorry. I thought I knew you for a moment there.”
Starlight kept her expression stern as she walked into the room, waiting for the door to shut behind her. It was ironic, considering how much surveillance there was into the lives of ordinary citizens, that there were no cameras in the cells. Of course, that meant there was never any evidence of zealous officers beating up suspects.
It also meant that, when the door closed behind her, she could allow her to mask to slip a little as she sat down in front of him. “How are you, Sunburst?”
Sunburst blinked. “Is this a trick?”
“Not a trick, it’s me,” Starlight said. “How have they treated you?”
“The food here is terrible,” Sunburst grumbled. “What are you doing here?”
“Helping you, I hope,” Starlight said. “What did you do?”
“I got into an argument with a couple of Starfleet goons,” Sunburst said.
“Is that how you broke your glasses?”
“They were hassling some poor old mare,” Sunburst said. “And when I told them to stop they told me I should be grateful they were here. That was when I said that I thought Equestria had gotten by just fine before they showed up. They didn’t like that very much.”
“That’s an understatement,” Starlight muttered. “And that was stupid of you, Sunburst.”
“I suppose I should join Starfleet like you did?” Sunburst asked sharply.
Starlight took a deep breath. “You don’t know what I’ve done, or what it’s cost me.”
“Less than its cost Starfleet’s victims,” Sunburst replied angrily. “How can you wear that uniform?”
“Because someone has to!” Starlight snapped. “Now if you want to get out of here I suggest that you do as I say and keep your mouth shut.”
Sunburst looked confused. “Get me out of here?”
“Yes! You don’t want to get sent to Conva, do you?” Starlight asked. “You wouldn’t last a week in that place.”
“So…you’re going to release me?”
“No, I can’t do that,” Starlight said. Technically that was a lie, as she did have the authority to order Sunburst or any other prisoner to be released at once, if she so chose. But, though she could do so, it would be unusual for her or any other officer to actually do it; questions would be asked, and the answers might be enough to land her in a cell of her own.
“Then how…”
“Leave that to me,” Starlight said, knowing what she would have to do even if she didn’t much like it. But she would do it, for the sake of a friend.
She would have to talk to Sunset Shimmer.
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Prisoners here, there and everywhere!
No, Lighting, you need to say that while you are flying in a nightgown in the middle of the night after you do an adorkable interview with her. Oh, and you need to ask her if she likes purple.
Ah, now you are getting it, its not weak to cherish life. There is more to power than being able to lord it over others. You need a human heart.
Surpisenly, i reall liked Lighting here. You did agreat job of giving some great character moments here and some quite time that allowed him to breathe.
7143257
Donner Superman is best screen superman.
It's quite interesting for me reading Legendbringer's take on this similar subject, because he clearly wants to humanise Lightning's allies (Buddy, Artie, Dyno but not Rhymey because nobody likes Rhymey) but isn't doing much wlth Lightning and Krysta hasn't appeared yet at all; whereas I am very interested in Lightning and Krysta because I think they've got a great unusued backstory whereas I am not really that interested in the second tier Starfleet guys.
7143257 Or at least a pony heart.