My Brave Pony: Starfleet Nemesis

by Scipio Smith

Lost Love

Lost Love

There was a knock on the front door. Moondancer ignored it. She had too much work to do to be distracted right now. She was in the zone, she was finally beginning to put all the pieces together, she was on the verge of a breakthrough too great to be distracted by any visitors from Fetlock come to break her concentration and leave her thoughts to scatter like leaves on the wind.

There was another knock on the door. Moondancer twisted in her seat to glare down the hallway at the front door, wishing that this troublesome intruder would just take the hint and go away already. A scowl set upon her pale face as she turned back to the array of books, scrolls and notepaper scattered in organised chaos across her desk.

Whoever it was knocked a third time. “Hey, Moondancer, it’s me! Open up!”

Minuette. While that explained a persistence greater than the mail mare, the carpet salespony, the community activist or the missionary would have displayed, knowing the identity of the person at the door didn’t make Moondancer any more inclined to open the door. She didn’t need friends right now; she needed peace and quiet. She was about to blow this thing wide open.

If I don’t answer, then she’ll realise that I’m not in-

“Moondancer, I know you’re in there, open this door!”

Moondancer looked behind her, noting with a start that Minuette had pushed the letterbox open from the outside and was staring in through the hole.

“How did you know I hadn’t gone out?” Moondancer demanded.

“Because you haven’t left the house in two weeks,” Minuette replied tartly. “Come on, open the door. I’ve got groceries out here and the ice cream’s about to melt.”

Moondancer huffed as she got up from her creaking chair, padding across the shabby, worn down carpet of her house to open the doorway. She squinted a little as the natural light filled the darkness of her house, blocked only a little by the figure of Minuette standing in the doorway, two paper bags filled with food sitting on the porch step at her feet.

“Finally,” Minuette sighed, picking up the grocery bags as she walked inside. “I’d ask how you were but I’m afraid you’re appearance speaks for itself.”

Moondancer frowned. “I’ve been too busy to worry about things like combing my mane.”

“Or changing your outfit or taking a bath, judging by the smell,” Minuette said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Come on, Moondancer, what’s the matter with you?”

“I’ve been working.”

“Uh huh,” Minuette murmured as she walked into the kitchen. “Am I going to have to get the gang together to stage an intervention again?”

“You can’t,” Moondancer muttered. “The whole gang isn’t here any more.”

Minuette paused in the middle of putting a tub of strawberry ice cream into the fridge, her face frozen in pain. “Yeah, I know. But, honey, you know that she wouldn’t want you to shut yourself up in here like this. She wouldn’t want you to turn your back on your friends.”

“Twilight would want me to finish what she started,” Moondancer snapped. “And so if you’ll excuse me I have a lot of important work to get back to.” She paused. “Thank you for doing my shopping for me. I was starting to run short.”

“I noticed, the only thing left in your fridge is a half-eaten bag of chips,” Minuette noted. “When did you last actually eat something?”

“I had something um…yeah,” Moondancer murmured, rooting around in the papers on her desk for the cup that she knew was buried underneath one of them. When she eventually found it took a good hard tug to pull the rather dirty and putrid-coloured cup from off the wood of the table, but it came free in the end and she was able to wave it for the benefit of Minuette, watching her from the next room. “I had this coffee…” Moondancer peered inside the cup at the green substance growing on the bottom. “And mould. I think that might be a new form of antibiotic…”

Minuette rolled her blue eyes. “Okay, I’m going to make you some lunch before you pass out or something.” She took a cabbage out of one of the paper bags. “Where do you keep the knives?”

“I don’t need to eat,” Moondancer replied. “I need to solve this, I need to figure out what it all means, I have to see what Twilight wanted me to see, what she saw. I’ve almost got it. It’s in the shots; I just don’t know what ‘it’ is.”

A frown creased Minuette’s face as she walked through the doorless archway leading from the kitchen into the study. “Moondancer? What are you talking about? And what does this have to do with Twilight?”

Moondancer hesitated for a moment, wondering where to start, there was just so much to outline. “I…um…listen, you have to promise to keep this to yourself, okay? Some of what I’m about to tell you could put you in danger if the wrong people found out about it?”

Minuette’s eyes narrowed. “Moondancer, you’re starting to sound a little crazy.”

“I know, that’s what they want you to think,” Moondancer said. “They want you to think that this is crazy so that you won’t believe the truth right before you’re eyes.”

“Who are they?”

Moondancer didn’t answer. Instead she dashed over to her desk and pulled open the top right-hand draw. What was inside was in no danger of getting lost amidst the chaotic arrangement on top of the desk. This note was carefully preserved, laminated and laid out, the sole occupant of the draw.

“Twilight wrote this letter to me to be sent in the event of her death,” Moondancer said as she shoved it into Minuette’s face. “Read it.”

Moondancer had read it herself a dozen times, looking for all the hidden meanings and codes that Twilight had secreted in it, but she nevertheless listened attentively as Minuette read it again, a faint smile spreading across her face.

“Dear Moondancer,” Minuette read. “Destiny decreed that we did not have enough time to get to know one another as we might have liked, and if you are reading this then, for me at least, time has run out.
I want you to know that I consider you a dear friend, though our acquaintance turned out to be too brief.
I seem without noticing it to have acquired a large number of possessions, including an enormous quantity of books. I mean no disrespect to my other friends to say that, for the most part, I think you’ll get more out of them than they will. And that is why, with the exception of a few volumes of personal significance, I am leaving my entire personal library, including research notes, to you. You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, you can throw the books away or sell them if you want to, but I hope that you will enjoy some of them, and maybe find them useful.
Your friend,
Twilight Sparkle.” Minuette lowered the laminated letter. “Yeah, I remember you telling us that Twilight had left you a load of books, and that was nice of her, but I don’t see-“

“Twilight left me her research notes!” Moondancer exclaimed. “She wanted me to pick up where she left off. The books, the notes, it’s all one big message, she couldn’t get to the bottom of the mystery so she wanted me to finish what she started.”

“Moondancer, what are you-“

“Look, look at this!” Moodancer yelled, gesturing with one frail, slender arm to the wall dividing the study and the kitchen. Judging by the way that she recoiled a little from the sight, Minuette wasn’t appreciative of the brilliance of her creation, or of all the hard work that had gone into creating it. Spread out across the wall was all the information that she had managed to acquire, from Twilight’s research, from the books that she had been given, from what she had managed to work out for herself.

A mixture of information, theories and supremely-well educated guesswork cluttered up the wall, obscuring the white plaster beneath, joined together by a spider’s web of red string linking one item to another. A cut-out of a promotional still for the latest series of Starfleet Magic a notably grimmer and more cynical affair than the preceding series or the feature films, showed Rhymey revealing that he had been using mind-control on Fluttershy for years. Underneath Moondancer had scribbled the note Fall of Starfleet, Rebirth of Friendship; Revelation of the Method? this was connected via string to a shot from one of the earlier, cheesier seasons of the show, a picture of Serpentari adorned with the caption constant retcons, how much of this really happened? There were newspaper cuttings about the Grand Ruler, fragments of articles about the history of Starfleet, of old Space Pony art and poetry. There was speculation about the real identity of the Grand Ruler, about the possibility of other survivors from Harmonius, about the purpose of the conversion bureau clinics where you could visit to get turned into a biped. It was all here, the pattern was somewhere on this wall if she could only find it.

“Seriously?” Minuette demanded. “Is this what you’ve been doing? You know what, forget lunch, and come with me.” She grabbed Moondancer by the arm and began to pull her towards the front door.

“What are you doing?”

“I am getting you out of this house and into the sunshine where you can meet real people,” Minuette declared. “Although maybe I should get you a shower first.”

“I can’t leave, don’t you get it, this is important!” Moondancer cried, breaking free of Minuette’s grip and retreating back towards her desk. “Twilight…Twilight was on to something and I think I’m getting to close to figuring out what it was. Twilight…she was researching the early history of the space ponies, their origins, their creation. She wasn’t satisfied with the official accounts. The texts she was studying are still in the palace but she took extensive notes and drawings, um, where is it?” Moondancer used hands and magic both alike to sift through all the work on her desk until she found what she was looking for, a drawing of an eight-pointed star, made up of three triangles layered over one another. “You recognise this, don’t you?”

Minuette frowned. “Kinda, I guess?”

“It’s the mark left by the injections we were all given as part of the conversion process,” Moondancer said. “That same mark is also where all our booster shots go, always, no exceptions.”

Minuette shrugged. “I guess so, but so what? Don’t they give us the shots there because the skin is weaker or something?”

Moondancer shook her head. “This symbol, the same mark as the one left by our shots, was found by Twilight in a book detailing the origins of the Space Ponies. It’s a symbol of creation, both the act and the power to perform said act. And that’s not all, I’ve been searching and I’ve found dozens of references to this symbol in all sorts of places, alchemy…and occurrences to, it crops up in so many places…”

“Moondancer-“

“Do you think that this is a coincidence?” Moondancer demanded. “They’re putting something in the shots. It’s in the shots!”

“Moondancer!” Minuette snapped. “Get a grip on yourself and think about what you’re saying!”

“Twilight died because of this!” Moondancer yelled, with tears welling up in her violet eyes. “She was on to something and she got too close and they killed her! Now it’s up to me to finish what she started because if I can’t…if I can’t figure out what she was trying to tell me then…then she died for nothing.” A sob escaped her lips. “I can’t let that happen.”

“Oh, Moondancer,” Minuette’s voice was gentle, but not as gentle as the hug in which Moondancer found herself embraced. “I want you; no I need you, to listen to me very carefully. This is a conspiracy theory and you need to stop it. I get it, I really do. I miss Twilight too. But she isn’t trying to send you messages from beyond the grave; she doesn’t have some unfinished business that you need to finish for the sake of her legacy. There isn’t any conspiracy, there isn’t anything in the conversion shots or the vaccines…Twilight just sent you this stuff because she might like it, and I think she’d be horrified to see what it’s making you do to yourself.”

Moondancer sobbed. “I miss her.”

“I know,” Minuette whispered. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and get out of here.”

“Where?”

“Out,” Minuette said. “Maybe we can meet Lemon Hearts and Twinkleshine on the way, yeah?”

Moondancer gave a barely perceptible nod. “I really thought that if I could…that it might mean something.”

“I get it,” Minuette said. “But stuff like this…mostly it doesn’t mean anything at all.”

---

Lightning Dawn snivelled.

He wasn’t crying. Really he wasn’t. He just had a bad case of allergies, that’s all. It was all this pollen that was making him sniffle…making his eyes water…making tears run down his face but he wasn’t crying! Big boys didn’t cry.

Except he wasn’t very big. Or very strong. Or very brave. And he was crying and he couldn’t help it because what else was he supposed to do?

He was alone out here, he didn’t even know where here was. He didn’t even really know how he’d gotten here. He just…he’d ended up here, all alone. His Mom, his Dad, his friends…the burning, the fire, the explosions, the screaming. Those eyes.

Everyone he knew was gone. He hadn’t seen them…but he knew they were gone because, if they weren’t, then they wouldn’t have left him alone out here, not like this.

Lightning bowed his head. He was lost. He didn't know where he was, he didn't know where he was going...he wasn't even sure what the point was in going anywhere. He might as well just sit here on this overturned log and wait for...at least he'd see them again.

"Hey!" a high pitched voice cut through his pain.

Lightning raised his head, looking around for the source of the shout. He couldn't see anyone. There was no one in this forest clearing but him. He was all alone.

"Hey! Yeah, you! Hey, I'm over here!"

The insistent shouting seemed to be coming from the left. Lightning rose to his feet, squinting into the darkness and seclusion of the trees as he tried to see who could possibly be making that kind of noise.

"Here! Up here, the web!"

Lightning looked up, and took a step backwards at what he saw. There was a web, and a pretty big one too, white and silky and latticed between two branches of an old and gnarly oak tree. Lying on the web, trapped by the sticky silken strands, was a tiny creature, only a few inches tall, looking like nothing that he'd ever seen before. Her skin was a pale beige colour, and she had no coat at all, only a long blonde mane that fell in waves down past her shoulders. Her face was strangely flat, and her nose was absolutely tiny, especially when you considered that her blue eyes were enormous for the size of her face. She was wearing a pink dress that looked as though it had seen better days, with rents and tears across it exposing the skin underneath.

She let out a deep sigh as Lightning spotted. "Thank goodness! I thought I'd be stuck here until the spider came back."

Lightning frowned as he took a step closer towards her. "What are you?"

"What I am at the moment is stuck up here," she said. "A little help please?"

"Oh, right, sure," Lightning said, and with a few deft hoof movements he had done sufficient damage to the web to enable the little creature to escape, floating through the air on gossamer wings, leaving a minute trail of sparkling motes of light behind her.

"Woohoo, freedom!" she yelled, spreading her arms out wide as she twirled in the air. She looked down at Lightning. "Thanks a lot. If you hadn't come along I probably would have been dinner sooner or later."

"You're welcome," Lightning muttered, a moment before his stomach began to growl at the mention of dinner. He wondered what time it was. He'd kind of lost track, but when he looked up at the sun it seemed to be kind of in the middle of the sky. About now Mom would have been making lunch, probably, and the smell would have been wafting out of the kitchen to invite him in. Lightning's stomach growled even louder.

"You and me both, kid," the little winged girl said. "I don't suppose you've got anything to eat?"

Lightning shook his head and, both to sate his curiousity and to distract himself from his complete inability to sate his hunger, he asked, "So what are you?"

The girl shrugged. "I dunno. I'm...me, I guess. I think my name's Krysta, but I don't know why I think that so I could be way off. Still, there's no one around to tell me different so Krysta it is."

"I'm Lightning Dawn," Lightning murmured. "I'm an enticorn."

"Nice to meet you, Lightning Dawn!" Krysta declared cheerily. "So, where are you headed? I haven't seen a lot of folks around here."

"I'm not headed anywhere," Lightning replied. "I don't have anywhere to head to."

"What do you mean?"

Lightning scowled, bowing his head as the unpleasant memories threatened to overwhelm him. Fear, fire, foes; the explosions and the screaming, his father yelling as he fought them off, the battle cries of the hordes of monsters...those eyes, that gleam of gold. "My home....there was an attack...my parents, everyone I...I don't know how I...I ended up here and they're all gone and I'm all alone and I don't know what to do!"

He collapsed on the ground, curled up, sobbing like a baby. He barely felt Kyrsta settling on his shoulder.

"Gee, it must be nice being able to remember the people who love ou, even if they're not around any more."

"What?" Lightning yelled, glaring up at her. "How can you say that?"

"Because I don't remember my Mom or my Dad or anyone at all, I don't even remember what species I am!" Kyrsta cried. Her voice softened as she said, "I'd give anything to remember, even if what I remembered was that they were all gone...at least I'd know they loved me."

Lightning sat up. "You really don't remember anything at all?"

Krysta shook her head. "I might be the only one of me there is or there might be a whole world full of people just like me waiting for me to come home. I just don't know."

"That is pretty rough," Lightning murmured. He couldn't imagine forgetting his parents, and his friends, his home. He certainly wouldn't want to.

He and Krysta stared at one another.

"Hey," he murmured.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to, like, stick together, for a bit?" Lightning asked. "I don't know, it might be safer maybe?"

Krysta's eyes sparkled as a smile spread across her face. "Yes! I would, I would, I would, I would!" A trail of sparkles ran behind her as she buried herself in Lightning's mane. "I'm not alone anymore," she cried. "I'm not alone anymore!"

Lightning smiled as he felt her wriggling around against his neck. "You're not alone, and neither am I. We'll never be alone again."

---

"Will you relax?" Krysta demanded. "Or at least try to look like you're relaxing?"

Lightning looked at her, hovering at his eye level in this New Canterlot bar, and frowned. He looked down: his feet were together, his back was straight, his posture immaculate. He couldn't see what Krysta's problem was. "What are you talking about?"

Krysta's tiny eyebrows rose. "You look like you've got a stick up your butt, which works fine on the parade ground but...c'mon, can't you loosen up?"

Lightning looked around the old-fashioned bar, with its snug wooden furnishings and its ark lighting. From what he could see he was the most uptight person in here. Even the other Starfleet ponies - he could see a couple of enlisted personnel at the bar trying to hit on an uncomfortable looking bespectacled unicorn with a white coat - looked a good deal more relaxed. The trouble was, short of imitating their stances he didn't really know how he could join them. "So should I spread my legs out or something?"

"Oh, brother," Krysta muttered, a she descended down to the table top where there drinks - the slightly suspicious looking and suspiciously named purple nurples, waited for them in a pair of shot glasses. "I swear you used tobe better at this. Remember your first date with Starla?"

"I remember that you and Rhymey were spying on us the whole time," Lightning replied.

"We were providing moral support," said Krysta, unabashed. "The point is you two had fun, until Titan's minions showed up anyway. Remember? You took her down to that amusement park, what was it called?"

"Pinkie Parks," Lightning muttered.

"Pinkie Parks!" Krysta exclaimed. "Huh. You know that's a pretty amazing coincidence when you think about it. Anyway, like I was saying, you had fun back then, you went on the rides, you won Starla that stuffed bear...you weren't this grim and uptight until later."

"Things have happened," Lightning said softly.

"I know, and a lot of them happened to me, too," Krysta said. "That's why we're here, remember? Drink your purple nurple."

Lightning raised the glass to the light and swirled it about. It was a deep, well, purple obviously, thick and cloudy. "What's in this?"

"Don't know and don't care," Krysta said, before sipping a third of the glass out of a miniature smile. She gasped, looking like her face was about to explode. "Tastes pretty good though," she gasped.

"Uh huh," Lightning muttered, before he went ahead and drained the glass anyway. It had more of a punch than a strengthor, and he had to resist the urge to grab the table for support. "Krysta! That is-"

"Yep," Krysta said gleefully. "Want another one?"

"Sure, why not?" Lightning muttered. He shook his head a little as he looked around the dark and cosy-seeming - more cosy seeming than actually cosy, he was willing to bet - bar. His gaze ceased roaming as it came to rest, like a bird that stops flying when it comes to rest on the branch of a tree, upon a familiar pair of space ponies, one red and the other yellow.

"Hey," Lightning said. "Is that Buddy and Artie?"

Krysta followed the direction of his gaze. "Yeah, I think it is. I wonder what they're doing here?"

"I'm sure they'd ask the same of us if they saw us," Lightning declared, turning his back on the pair of them.

"What are you doing?" Krysta hissed.

"I don't want to deal with them right now," Lightning said.

"Grand Ruler, when did my best friend become such an antisocial jackass?" Krysta demanded. "Hey, fellas!"

Lightning rolled his eyes and tried to put an affable expression on his face as he turned back around again, leaning on the table as Buddy and Artie approached him, along with the third member of their party. Both Buddy and Artie were classily dressed, their tuxedos putting Lightning's black tee and pants to shame. He wasn't altogether sure about Artie wearing a paintbrush in his buttonhole - Buddy had gone for the more traditional carnation - but His Majesty did like people to wear some symbol of their powers upon their person when out of uniform. "Major Bristles, Major Rose, fancy seeing you here."

"We could say the same to you, Commander," Buddy replied. "Is Starla here? You out on date night or something?"

"No," Lightning said quickly. "Starla...I don't know where she is right now."

An awkward silence stretched out amongst the five of them for a little while, until Artie coughed. "Commander Lightning, allow me to introduce my girlfriend, Princess Ilia of Elfaron. Ilia this is Grand Allied Supreme Commander Lightning Dawn of the Starfleet.

Princess Ilia stood between the two ponies like a planet orbited by two moons. She was a elf, as the name of her homeworld indicated, fair and slender for all that she was smaller than any of the ponies present, with fine, sharp features and high sculpted cheekbones. Her pale blonde hair was piled up in a perfectly arranged bun on top of her head, and her blue cocktail dress matched the colour of her eyes, encircled with a ring of smoky purple eyeshadow to lend pronouncement to their colour. Said eyes were currently a little wide as she regarded him.

For all that he was wearing trainers Lightning still managed to click his heels together as he bowed at the waist. He took Ilia's pale hand, adorned with a loose fitting sapphire bracelet. "Enchanted, your highness."

"You did hear the part where I said she was my girlfriend, right Lightning?" Artie asked anxiously.

Lightning's back straightened as his brown eyes swept up to lock gazes with Artie. "Of course I did, this is mere courtesy."

Ilia chuckled. "It's a great honour, Commander, I've heard so much about you."

Lightning blinked, uncertain of how to respond to that, unsure too if the things she had heard amounted to stories from Artie - how long had Artie had a girlfriend anyway? - or the carefully curated legend of Lightning Dawn that was so assiduously spread across the stars wherever the writ of Starfleet ran by that TV show and the movies and a half-dozen other things dreamed up by the Public Information Office.

Fortunately he was spared the need to give an actual response by Krysta's loud coughing.

"Right," Lightning said quickly. "Princess Ilia, this is my dearest friend Queen Krystalline, Queen of the Fairies and Lady of Luminoth."

Ilia curtsied for a second time. "Your Majesty."

Krysta grinned. "Please, just call me Krysta. It's great to meet you, princess."

"Likewise, and you must call me Ilia."

"Of course," Krysta said. "So, how in the dark between stars did you end up with this guy?"

"Krysta!" Artie yelped.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Krysta insisted, raising her hands disarmingly. "Seriously, what's going on?"

As Ilia was rendered unable to respond by a fit of the giggles, It fell to Buddy to answer with a laugh. "Artie had to save a girl's life to get her to go out with him."

Artie huffed. "You know, if she'd had friends like mine Princess Twilight would never have given credence to the idea that friendship might be magical."

Lightning shook his head at that, judging it not the best time to mention that compared to Twilight's friends they were all pretty wretched fellows. Instead, he dredged up a half-forgotten memory. "Elfaron, didn't you two go on a mission there, during the hunt for the star stones?"

"Yes, that's where we met," Ilia said. She slipped her arm into the crook of Artie's own as she gazed up at him in adoration. "We'd been attacked by Serpentari, I'd been left behind in the evacuation. I was trapped under the rubble. I...I didn't know if the serpent would find me or if I'd be trapped down there until I starved but...but then I heard someone up above; a hero, brave and strong."

"Aww, that's so sweet," Krysta said as Artie and Ilia kissed. "So, Buddy, you look out of place."

Buddy shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not going to dinner with the lovebirds, but it's been a while since I saw Ilia so I figured I'd tag along for cocktails. I was hoping Artie could be my wingpony if I saw anything worth taking a shot at." Buddy looked towards the bar, where the enlisted personnel pursuing the white unicorn were now dealing with two other unicorns, one mint green and the other fluoride blue, who flanked the white like bodyguards. "I think I've seen that green one around New Ponyville. Cute, but I think she's a deviant; can't prove it, though.

"Don't you basically live with Applejack?" Lightning asked.

"I live on her property," Buddy corrected. "Can you imagine what it would be like trying to date her? 'Well good golly gosh I ain’t been so ridden so cow-tuckering hard since my cousin Goober and I was con-footling around in the barn one hootenanny.' I tell you, imagine Lightning, if I didn't have my own space I'd have to cut my ears off at that accent."

Lightning was barely aware of his hand clenching into a fist. "I don't think that's very funny, Major."

Buddy's eyes narrowed. "Are you okay, Commander? 'Cause Rhymey said-"

"She said that she doesn't want anything to do with you, so why don't you just leave her alone, you jerk?"

Lightning's head turned swiftly towards the bar, drawn by the sudden shout that split the air. It was only now that his attention was being drawn to it that he noticed how uncomfortable the scene up there was. The white unicorn, shrinking down as if hoping to suddenly start to go unnoticed, looked terrified and on the verge of tears. The mint green unicorn on her right looked incensed, the blue and yellow mares with them seemed as if they, too, were angry but were more wary of showing. All three of them huddled protectively around the white bespectacled unicorn, while around them the Starfleet ratings gathered, looming like volcanoes over the villages unfortunate enough to dwell at their feet.

"Now why you gotta be like that?" one of the space ponies demanded. He and his three companions were dressed in the lycra armour of the ground branch of the service, and that armour added to the natural superiorities of a space pony as he grabbed the mint green unicorn - Lightning had seen her around but he couldn't recall her name if he had ever heard it - and started to pull her away. "We just want to have some fun, right? No need to get all nasty and shrill about it."

"Let go of me, and stay away from my friend," the green mare snapped. "Let go!" She slapped the stallion across the face with a sound that rang across the bar.

The space pony scowled. "Why you little-"

"Starfleet Magic!" Lightning yelled; he held up his morpher in one hand, and instantly his drab civilian garb was transformed into the fullest panoply of his uniform as Grand Allied Supreme Commander, from his white jacket to his half-size cape to his high-peeked cap.

Krysta's shrill whistle cut through the air. "Commander on deck, ten-hut!"

The soldiers turned towards him, their faces alight with surprise and their eyes wide with fear, before slamming their feet onto the wooden floor as they sprang to attention as one pony.

Lightning was silent for a moment, letting them stew in their nervousness as he fought to control the fury running through his blood, making him want to hit someone or worse. Control, control, he needed to be in control; this was the enticorn in him, waiting to be unleashed. He couldn't let it win.

All the same, his voice trembled with barely controlled anger when he spoke. "What is going on here?"

"These guys need to learn to take no for an answer," growled the green mare.

"Is that true?" Lightning demanded.

One of the troops shrugged. "Maybe, sir."

"What unit are you with?" Lightning snapped.

"212, sir."

"All four of you are confined to your billets until further notice," Lightning growled. It was all he could do to them, seeing as they hadn't committed any offence under regulations. "Major Rose!"

"Yes, commander," Buddy said softly.

"Take these four out of here and make sure they get straight back to base," Lightning said. He didn't want to risk them hanging around outside waiting for the ladies to come out, and he didn't want to spoil Artie's night by giving him the job.

Buddy hesitated for a moment before he saluted. "Aye aye, Commander."

All eyes were on Lightning as Buddy ushered the over-eager ratings out of the bar. Lightning bowed his head to the mares. "I apologise on behalf of the service for the discomfort you have suffered tonight."

The white mare still seemed on the verge of tears, the other glared at Lightning with wary hostility. It was clear that if he was waiting for them to accept his apology then he would wait a long time.

Lightning coughed. "Yes, well…enjoy your evening, ladies." He turned away, retreating swiftly to the table where Krysta, Artie and Ilia were waiting. "I hope I didn't just ruin your night."

"Not at all, you did the right thing," Ilia said. "Krysta? Would you come help me powder my nose, I think it needs a touch up."

"Huh? Oh, oh, right, sure," Krysta said, and she fluttered around Ilia's ear as the elven princess led the way into the bathroom.

Lightning watched the door close on the pair of them before he looked back at Artie. "It's as if they speak a different language, isn't it?"

Artie leaned heavily on the table. "What's going on, Lightning?"

Lightning blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you're not acting like yourself."

Lightning's smile was wry, and just a little melancholy. "And who am I, Artie? What should I do, if I were to act like myself?"

Artie opened his mouth, but no words emerged.

"Yeah," Lightning said. "That's what I thought. I look back on the things I've done and the only thing I can say I've been consistently is a dick."

"You're a hero to a lot of people," Artie replied.

"Am I? Really?"

"Yes!" Artie declared emphatically. "I...for the longest time I used to envy you so much."

Lightning frowned. "I never knew that."

"You never knew why I joined Starfleet either, did you?"

"No." Lightning smirked. "Some friend, right?"

"You've got a lot going on," Artie said, waving one hand dismissively. "I...my parents didn't want me to join up, they wanted me to go to the Academy of the Arts and become the next Mareavaggio. But I also had an uncle, Buck Bristles, and...you know, my parents hated him but I loved that guy, and he had been in the fleet and he would tell me stories about the places he'd been, the things he'd done. But the story that stuck with me most was the story of how he met his wife.
"Aunt Jana was dead by then, but Uncle Buck told me how he had come home from Herbosia and he had gone, still in uniform, to the little village where his sweetheart lived, determined to ask for her hand. And as he walked down the only street in town people came out of their houses to say bless you, thank you for all your service, have a drink on us. And he did, so he was falling down drunk by the time he got to Jana's doorstep but she agreed to marry him anyway. According to she didn’t hesitate for a second before she said yes." Artie shook his head. "I used to think how proud he must have been and I...I wanted that so badly. And you had that and I...I was kinda jealous the way so many people looked at you like a hero."

"Ilia looks at you that way," Lightning said.

"Yeah… yeah I'm a lucky guy," Artie murmured. "But you...what's up?"

"I haven't felt..." Lightning stopped himself before he could say 'I haven't felt myself'. "I haven't felt good in a while. Not since Twilight died, at least."

"And Starla?

"Hasn't done anything wrong, but...it isn't her fault."

Artie cringed sympathetically. "That's rough. But what are you going to do about it?"

"That's the thing, I've got no idea," Lightning said. "No idea at all."

---

"And where in United Equestria have you been?"

Lightning froze at the verbal whip crack, flinching at the harshness of Starla's tone as his hopes of a silent and unnoticed return home vanished like the debris of some monster he had vanquished. Starla stepped out of the shadows of the living room, arms folded across her chest, clad in a light pink dressing gown and matching slippers, with her midnight blue hair in rollers. Surprisingly, none of that detracted in any way from the severity of her expression or the sternness of her gaze.

"Well?" she snapped.

"Starla-" Krysta began.

"Krysta, could you give us a minute?" Starla asked sharply. "I need to talk to my husband alone."

Krysta bowed her head. "I'll, um...I'll be upstairs.” A trail of sparkling silver motes hung in her wake as she departed, leaving Lightning alone with his wife, and wasn't that a terrible thing to look on with dread?

"Yes, I did wait up for you thank you for asking," Starla snapped. "I even saved you some dinner."

"I'm not hungry," Lightning muttered.

"I'm not surprised, it's two in the morning," Starla said. "Where were you?"

"Out."

"Don't talk to me like I'm some nosy stranger prying into your affairs because I'm not, I am your wife." Starla declared. She sounded angry, but she sounded on the verge of sobbing, too. Her voice started to crack. "I am your wife, you can't... What's the matter with you?"

Lightning turned away, placing his hands upon the bare white wall as he leaned heavily against it. "You're not the first person to ask me that." He sighed, and bowed his head. "I've been asking myself that."

He could no longer see Starla, but he heard her voice breaking as she said. "I love you, Lightning Dawn. I've always loved you and I married you and I don't deserve to be treated like this. I...I never expected you to be eternally faithful; you're a male after all, and you have male needs that I won't always be able to meet, that's the way things are. But I thought that it would be like my father, that there would be mistresses but however long they lasted, a week, a month, a year, the affair would always end and you'd come back to me. But I shouldn't have to share my marriage with the ghost of a dead mare!"

Lightning looked up. "How long have you known?"

Starla laughed. "How long? I've always known, I've known since before you knew."

"Then why-"

"Because I love you and I always have!" Starla yelled. "Since the moment we met under the stars I knew...the stars that night they told me that you were the one that I...I daren't look to see what they say now.
"I thought, I guess I thought that as much as I hated Princess Twilight Sparkle she was much too much of a goody-goody to steal my stallion. And I thought you'd realise that she didn't love you you'd turn around and see that I'm right here, the way I've always been here.
"But then she died. And Grand Ruler forgive me I was so happy when you carried her body back because I thought I was finally free of her...but I wasn't, was I? And I'm starting to think I never will be."

"Why did you love me?" Lightning asked.

"What?"

"I've been trying to remember what kind of a person I was and...if you loved me there must have been something there, right?"

"You came upstairs to get away from the party, even though it was your party; I could relate to that," Starla said. "And then, in battle when I saw Titan knock you down only for you to get back up over and over again you were so strong, so brave, so fearless. And when you fought against Titan’s minions and his monsters…you didn't need anyone you just saw what you had to do and you did it and...you were like a raging war-god then, proud and stern and now...these people, this place has ruined you."

"This place has taught me virtues I barely dreamed of," Lightning replied. "Kindness, loyalty, friendship-"

"Those aren't virtues, those were Twilight's weaknesses," Starla snapped. "If she'd spent less time preaching the magic of friendship and more time training then she'd still be alive." Starla fell silent for a moment. When she spoke again her voice ws quiet. "I can't do this any more."

"What are you saying?" asked Lightning, hoarsely.

"I'm leaving, I can't stay in this house with...I'm leaving until you're ready to be the guy I fell in love with again."

"He died along with Twilight," Lightning murmured.

Starla shook her head, and turned away. Her footfalls thumped as she climbed up the stairs.

Lightning sighed as he wandered into the darkened living room and flopped onto the sofa. He heard a cracking that presaged the return of Krysta.

"Starla's packing," Krysta said.

"Probably for the best," said Lightning. "I...I've treated her badly."

"You've changed," Krysta said. "There's no shame in that."

"I said vows, pledging to make her happy," Lightning replied. "I haven't done that, for sure. Maybe I am just a dick?"

"That's not true," Krysta cried. "I know that isn't true."

"Then how do I get back to being something better?"

Krysta said nothing.

"No," Lightning muttered. "I don't know either."

---

"You look so beautiful, Starla," Twilight said, with an admiring smile upon her face as she beheld Starla in all her jacked -up bridal raiment. "Rarity did a fantastic job, didn't she?"

Starla murmured something indistinct as she turned around to look at herself in the full length mirror standing against the wall. It was...it was a very nice dress, and had it come from any hands but Rarity's Starla would probably have had praise far more fulsome. There was little call for formal gowns in United Equestria, and as she turned this way and that examining herself Starla felt as though Rarity had worked out several years of pent up creativity on her gown and the bridesmaids dresses. It was white, of course, but with the slightest hint of blush pink about it, particularly around the hem of the full ballgown shaped skirt. Bows of blue, the same shade as Starla's eyes, adorned a sash tied just above the hem, with another sash tied tight around her waist like a corset, tied into a pretty bow at the back. A pair of opera gloves enfolded her hands and arms to above the elbow. Her veil hung down almost to the floor, sewn with a mixture of pearls and diamonds so that it sparkled in the sunlight streaming in through the window. A crystal tiara nestled amongst her purple curls, and a double-string pearl choker embraced her throat, with a sapphire cut in the shape of a heart dangling from the large white pearls.

It was a beautiful dress, and a beautiful everything else...but if it had all been mere costume props it would have been more accurate to this charade.

"Yes," Starla murmured. "She did a very good job."

"I know she'll love to see you in it," Twilight said. There was a reproach there, if diplomatically put, for Starla would not allow Rarity into the dressing room to see the fruits of her labour ahead of time. It was bad enough that Twilight Sparkle was her best mare, but Starla had no intention of being surrounded by Twilight's friends before her wedding.

Starla had always known that she would never have the perfect wedding. Her father would never lead her down the aisle and give her away; her mother would never cry her eyes out at the sight of her little girl all grown up and so beautiful. She would get no embarrassingly frank advice from her grandmother. She had made her piece with all of that. But she didn't feel it was unreasonable for her to dislike the fact that she had the mare her husband-to-be was really in love with as the best mare at her wedding.

Of course, that was her own fault in large part, wasn't it? She could have asked someone else if she had any...friends. But it turned out that the Starfleet ethos of isolation and self-reliance cut both ways. That was why Twilight Sparkle was her best mare, and that was why the guest list consisted of more friends of Twilight than of either the bride or groom. Starla almost wished she could have asked one of the guys, Buddy or Artie, but His Majesty would not have approved of such innovation.

Still, that didn't mean she had to like it. She just hoped that Lightning would have the decency to look at her, not Twilight, when they were saying their vows.

Starla turned once again, looking down on Twilight in her off-the-shoulder lavender bridesmaid's dress- by the Grand Ruler, even the dresses were made to suit her! - and tried to see what Lightning saw in her. She was not prettier than Starla, nor stronger, nor superior to her in virtues. She was smarter, perhaps, but who wanted a smart wife?

So what did Twilight have that she didn't?

"What do you think of Lightning?" Starla asked.

"Huh?" Twilight said. "He's...he's okay, I guess."

Starla wished that she had thought to record that so she could play it for Lightning over and over again until he got it: that Twilight didn't care about him, and never would.

That was why she was going through with this marriage: because she was a good girl, and patience was the crowning glory of a virtuous mare. Lightning's eyes and thoughts would stray a while, he would follow in the footsteps of this callous siren, but if she was patient he would see Twilight Sparkle for what she was, and he would see Starla waiting for him, unfailing in her devotion, and he'd come back to her.

"Starla, are you okay?" Twilight asked. "You're not getting cold feet are you?"

Starla smiled. "No, of course not. This...this the happiest day of my life."
She would be happy, as Lightning's bride. She would, she really would. He would be bound to her by sacred oaths that would endure while this passing infatuation faded. There had been no other mares but her and Twilight and Twilight would pass. The best mare ever made was to be her husband, and she would bring him happiness.

Twilight would pass. What they had would last forever.

---

Starla crouched on the floor in one of the more secluded corridors of the royal palace and sobbed with her head in her arms.

She had come here for want of anywhere else to stay. She had considered asking Rhymey if she could crash with him for a while, but she didn't think she could bear to share an apartment with Fluttershy. The Twins were off-world right now, and Artie wasn't home. She'd check back with him later and see if he needed a roommate.

In the meantime she had gone to the palace; it wasn't as if she knew anyone else in town. Or anywhere. She had gone to the palace and it had all just been too much. She had collapsed on the floor in a weeping heap. Was this all her fault? Had she not been sufficiently patient with him? Had she not been the good girl she thought she was? Had she been derelict in her duties as a girlfriend and a wife?

Was there something she could have done to keep him from straying?

"Starla?" the voice of His Majesty the Grand Ruler cut through her melancholy like a roar of thunder rolling over all lesser sounds in the night-time. And yet His Majesty did not sound commanding, as he normally did; nor controlled and wise as when he addressed the public but...concerned, like a father asking for permission to enter the bedroom of his sobbing daughter. "Starla, what brings you here so late, weeping and full of sorrow? What is the matter?"

Starla looked up into that proud visage so full of ageless dignity, into those eyes so wise, that brow so noble, that hair in which the heavens whirled and danced upon command, all those features both so kingly and divine. She was acutely aware that by contrast she must look a mess, face unmade and without so much as mascara on her eyes. "Forgive me, your majesty, I should not-"

"Hush now, my sweet, and no more of that," the Grand Ruler spoke in whispered tones, but even his lordly whisper was enough to silence Starla. He took off his glittering enchanted cape and, in a fluid motion, he draped it gallantly over Starla's shoulders like a jacket. Infused with divine magic, the cloak embraced her like a snake, warming her whole body with its soft touch. He got down on one knee, so that he did not loom so much over her, and spoke in what Starla - who flattered herself that he spoke thus only to her - secretly thought of as a paternal tone; not the Grand Ruler now but the warmer face of Celesto. "The only thing for which you need apologise is not coming to me if you were sick at heart, to lay your burdens on my stronger shoulders."

"I...your majesty has so many responsibilities, I didn't want to-"

"Starla. Starla, my sweet, my child," Celesto said, each word a gentle caress to Starla's wounded soul, and as he spoke he stared with perfect sincerity into her eyes.
"You are the closest to a daughter I will ever have, and as I love you as my own daughter so is your happiness a higher concern to me than any in my vast realm. So, Starla dearer than daughter, what ails your heart?"

Starla took a deep breath. "It's Lightning. He...I'm afraid he doesn't care for me any more."

Celesto's mouth hardened. "Has he turned cruel?"

"No, just inattentive," Starla replied. "I...I don't want to lose him but I don't know what to do."

Celesto smiled benevolently as he reached out and wiped away the tears from under Starla's eye. "You have told me, and that was the right thing. I myself have noticed an unwelcome change in my most faithful student. I will speak with Lightning and find out the heart of his transformation."

"Lightning's heart is the heart of all my troubles," Starla declared. "For even as he tightly holds my heart, the heart of Lightning Dawn is stolen away by Twilight Sparkle."

"I see," Celesto said. "Nevertheless I will speak with Lightning and cure him of this ill affliction. You have my word I will bring you two back into such affection that you will be a model of love to the dimensional universe."

"Oh...thank you Your Majesty," Starla cried, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace. "Thank you, thank you." It would be alright now, it would, it would. The Grand Ruler had given his word, and his word was golden.

Celesto's arms closed around her with all the comforting warmth of a father. "No thanks are needed, child," he whispered into her ear. "How could I do less for those I love?"

---

"Honey! Your breakfast is ready!"

Stern finished pulling on his tie, a fond smile appearing on his face to stare back at him in the mirror. "Right on time," he murmured. He walked out of the master bedroom, crossing the wood-panelled floor of the house in quick strides, his booted feet making slight echoes as he moved. He paused a moment by the door to his daughter's bedroom, the white door overlaid by finger-paintings of daffodils that Gracie had done when she was a kid.

Stern knocked lightly on the door. "Gracie, breakfast."

"Just a minute, dad."

"Now," Stern said, though he didn't feel the need to wait for her to open the door. Grace was a good kid, she'd be right down. So he kept walking, passing Anita dusting some of the knickknacks on the windowsill. "Anita, would you help Felix downstairs, it's time for breakfast."

"Of course, Colonel Stern," Anita replied in her perpetually calm mechanical voice. Since the defeat of the Robot Empire, reverse-engineering of technology salvaged from Starfleet's enemies had allowed for a great leap forward in the field of cybernetics. Robot servants were becoming a common sight in households across United Equestria, and Anita had been such a great help to Che, especially with Felix.

Anita did not hurry, moving in calm steps in the direction of Felix's room. Stern watched her for a moment, marvelling at the lack of mechanical noises that her metal frame made when she moved, before turning away and heading down the stairs. Family photos hung on the wood-panelled wall as he descended: he and Che on their wedding day, Val and Grace on their first days of school, the day they got Duke, Stern and Val posing together with a fat trout they had caught on their first fishing trip, ace in her prom dress. All happy, all joyous, all full of smiles. There were pictures of Felix too, of course, but all of them set within the confines of the house, and none of them marked especial occasions.

The smell of home-made pancakes greeted Stern's nostrils like an old friend even before he walked through the hall and into the kitchen. The table, he saw at once, had already been set: covered in a crisp white table cloth, with plates and gleaming cutlery laid out for five, and his morning paper set beside his place at the head of the table. Che - her real name was Cheerwell, but for as long as he'd known her she had never used her full name save on official documents - was standing over the stove with her back to him, wearing a flower-pattern dress that clung to the figure of her upper body before widening out as it dropped towards her ankles.

"Smells great," he said, standing in front of his place.

Che turned to him and smiled. She had...by the Grand Ruler she was beautiful. Middle age had started putting lines on his face but Che, with her pretty brown eyes and her mellow blue coat and her black hair all curled up...she hadn't changed a bit since the day he married her.

"I'll plate up as soon as the kids are here," she said.

Hey Dad," Val said as the back door swung open, admitting first Duke, their golden labrador, and then Stern's elder son. Val, short for Valiant, had inherited his father's pale yellow coat and his mother's black hair, though Stern thought that his boyish good looks were probably a combination of both. He bounded into the house wearing his high school sports jacket, a mixture of blue and red.

"Hey sport," Stern said, tousling his son's hair as he came to join his father by the table.

"Morning daddy," Grace cried cheerfully as she leapt down the stairs. Their daughter had her mother's blue coat and her father's blonde hair, though it was a shade more golden, done up in a perm behind a canary yellow hair band that matched exactly the bright shade of her dress. She greeted her father with a kiss on the cheek as Duke barked happily.

"Good morning pumpkin," Stern said, returning her kiss with one of his own to the forehead. Now they were just waiting on-

"Hey Mom, hey Dad," Felix called as Anita carried him downstairs, cradled in her metal arms. He looked so small, barely bigger than three year old though he was seven, and the way Anita carried him made the twisted nature of his legs obvious. His blue eyes widened as he saw the jug of golden syrup lying on the table. "Gee, are we having pancakes? And we've got syrup and sugar and-" he was cut off by a fit of fierce coughing that had his body contorting this way and that hacking and spluttering as tears formed in his eyes.

Stern frowned. It was at times like these that naming their son Felix, which meant happiness, or good fortune, seemed like a cruel joke. He'd always been this way, he'd been born broken. They ought to have disposed of him in accordance with the law but...they couldn't. They had looked down on their son and they…they could not do that which the Grand Ruler mandated. So they kept him at home instead, hidden away. It wasn't much of a life for a kid...but at least it was a life.

Che's face was suffused with concern as she crossed the kitchen. "Oh, now look you've gotten yourself all upset. Thank you, Anita, I've got him."

"Do you require any assistance?" Anita asked as Che scooped her son up in her arms.

"Keep an eye on the oven for me."

Of course, Mrs Che," Anita said, and she walked over to the stove as Che fussed over Felix.

She soon calmed him down. "You know what happens when you get over excited."

"Sorry Mom, sorry, Dad."

Stern smiled in a sickly fashion. "So long as you're okay."

Together, Che and Grace helped Felix into his seat, and when she was sure he was okay Che returned to the stove and began to plate up.

"So, Val, what are you up to at school today?" Stern asked as he and his children took their seats.

"Biff wants to have a couple of hours extra football practice, so we're ready for the big game against New Baltimare. You will be able to make the game, won't you Dad?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Stern said. "Gracie, what about you?"

Grace smiled. "Well, Dodge asked me to go the ice cream shop after school; I think he's going to ask me to the sock-hop."

"Oh, that's great honey," said Che.

Stern nodded. "Dodge is a good kid, I know his father; they’re decent people, hard working, honest. He does know I can have him arrested, right?"

"Daddy!"

Stern chuckled as Che scooped a trio of pancakes onto his plate. "Thanks sweetie, It looks delicious."

"You're welcome," Che said bending down to kiss him on the lips.

Stern read the paper while he ate. There was the usual war news from Rangivar - it seemed that the surrender of the caribou was expected any day now - along with a protest by some misguided youngsters calling themselves the counterculture; Stern tsked, and thanked the Grand Ruler that Val and Gracie weren't mixed up in a bad crowd like that. Then there was an article announcing that His Majesty had called off his planned visit to Luminoth and that, as a result, the battlecruiser Repulse 'and other heavy units' were being sent to Marelaya to deter Kallanian aggression in the sector.

'Though are burdens are many,' His Majesty was quoted as saying. 'Should any opportunists seek to test us they will find that the arsenal of freedom is far from exhausted, nor are valour and resolve in short supply amongst our gallant forces of the Starfleet.'

Good old Repulse, Stern thought as he looked at the picture of the great ship the paper had so helpfully provided. She'll scare them straight.

First Grace, then Val got up from the table and headed off for school. Stern wished them a good day, and Gracie kissed him on the cheek before she left. Anita took Felix back upstairs. Che started to do the dishes.

"I think he's getting worse," she said.

Stern put down the newspaper. "You don't know that."

"No, I don't know that because I'm not a doctor, and no doctor has seen him," Che said.

"You know why that is, you know why we can't take him to a doctor," Stern said, pushing back his chair and rising to his feet. "You know what happens to kids like Felix."

Che bowed her head. "Our son is dying, Stern. There must be something we can do."

"And we're doing it," Stern said. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "We both agreed to-"

"To raise our son, not keep him prisoner," Che said. "We were very selfish, weren't we? When we decided to keep Felix, did we ever think about what kind of life he'd have?"

"At least he has a life," Stern murmured, though in truth he knew he had little right to speak to Che in this matter. He left for work each day; while she stayed home taking care of their helpless son. She hadn't had a vacation since Felix was born; even now that they had Anita she still did so much.

He kissed her on the back of the neck. "You're a great mom. Felix knows that."

Che didn't respond. She didn't even look at him.

Stern frowned. "I...I have to go." He headed back upstairs to get his jacket. He stopped outside of Felix's room. The door was open, and his son was lying on the bed, facing the wall.

Softly, Stern walked in and sat down on the bed beside him. "Hey, kiddo. What's up?"

"Why did you and Mom decide to keep me, Dad?" Felix muttered.

Stern said, "Because we love you very much."

"Then why can't I ever go outside, or go to school, or do anything that normal kids do?"

Stern frowned. "Because...because you're different, and the world isn't kind to people who are different from everybody else. Your mother and I...we just don't want you to get hurt."

Felix was silent for a moment. "Would it be easier for Mom if I wasn't here?"

"Don't talk like that, Felix, don't even think that," Stern said emphatically. "You are our son, and we love you and...and we wouldn't change a thing about you." He squeezed Felix reassuringly on the shoulder. "Have a great day." He got up, and left… like he always did.

He put on his grey uniform jacket, ornamented by the brightly coloured ribbons of his decorations, and got his cap off the hat stand before he headed to work. Che stood in the doorway, kissed him goodbye and waved him off, her face a mask of blissful happiness that he mirrored as he bid her goodbye. Nobody could know that there were cracks beneath the mask, for Che's sake and the sake of the kids. To the outside world they were the perfect family: two kids and a dog; nobody could suspect that it was anything less than perfect.

Dagwood, his next door neighbour, seemed to be enjoying a lazy morning as he ambled, half-dressed, down the driveway to pick up his paper off the sidewalk. He straightened up when he saw Stern and offered him a cheery wave. "Hidely ho, neighbour!"

"Good morning," Stern said, waving back. "Day off?"

"Yep."

"Have a good one," Stern said, as he proceeded on his way.

Outside number 12, old Buster was supervising his robot as it mowed the lawn. "Howdy, Stern! Lovely day, ain't it?"

"Looks like," Stern replied, for the skies were blue and clear with not a cloud in sight.

As he walked through his placid neighbourhood, passing by the immaculate lawns and white picket fences, past the well-tended houses of respectable space-ponies, a great feeling of neighbourliness wafted over Stern as it always did. These were nice people, good people, his kind of people. This was what Starfleet existed to protect. This was what they were all about.

It was at times like this that he wished he had a more active role in the protection. Of course, his job now not only brought him to the attention of the Grand Ruler himself, it also meant that he could go home to his wife and kids every evening…but there were rare occasions when he missed the old days, out in the field.

Still, those days were gone and he had a job to do that, though less action packed by far, was no less important in the service of His Majesty. And so Lieutenant Colonel Stern, supernumerary to the General Staff, walked towards the palace that served as the headquarters of the finest armed organisation ever forged by mortal hands, the nerve centre of the greatest empire ever established, the seat of power and the font of honour, from whence the movement of mighty battle fleets and invincible armies across planets and stars were directed. Along the way he passed a group of hippies, more exemplars of the counterculture that he’d been reading about in the newspaper, protesting the war in Rangivar. Disgraceful. Starfleet’s gallant forces were on the verge of victory and these long-haired, unwashed, ill-shaven hoodlums were doing their level best to sap morale at home and erode support for the brave boys out in the field. Look at them, handing out cupcakes and singing songs to a guitar strummed by some pony with a mane that was more leonine that equine. Didn’t they care how this would affect the troops?

“One, two, three, four,
We don’t want your bucking war!” they chanted, while a zebra stood on top of a crude podium and addressed a modest crowd through a bullhorn.

“I ain’t got no quarrel with no caribou,” he declared. “They ain’t never called me stripeback!” the crowd cheered enthusiastically.

“Five, six, seven, eight,
We don’t want no bucking hate!”

Stern was disappointed to see a couple of space ponies amongst the crowd, and shook his head as he wondered what the youth of today was coming to. Thank goodness his kids ran with a much better crowd.

He left them to it, under the watchful eyes of several Starfleet personnel making sure that nobody got hurt and nothing got out of hand, and completed his journey to the palace. As he walked in through the first few corridors a few people greeted him, but most of his fellow officers were too busy going about their important assignments – fetching coffee for the admirals and generals, copying out orders in triplicate, carrying important looking pieces of paper up and down corridors – to pay him much notice. The ebb and flow of headquarters life swirled around him and he became like a blood cell in a vast organism moving through the arteries and veins as if pumped by some great organ towards his destination.

“Ah, good morning Colonel Stern. Right on time as usual.”

Stern came to a halt, standing to attention as a familiar figure approached him down the corridor, her long black coat trailing behind her. Starlight Glimmer was sporting a nasty bruise on her face today, though it didn’t appear to have affected her mood much, she seemed just as jovial as always.

“Colonel Glimmer, good morning,” Stern said, politely but without any great enthusiasm. Though the difference in their official ranks was not great, the difference in their power and influence was a vast canyon. Not only was she the highest ranked Equestrian in Starfleet, Starlight Glimmer was also the youngest colonel in the entire organisation, the second youngest senior officer – the youngest being, of course, Grand Allied Supreme Commander Lightning Dawn – and already it was discreetly whispered around the water coolers of HQ that Starlight Glimmer was Starfleet Intelligence in every way that mattered. General Rain Dancer was old, and nobody had seen General Tin-Eye for several months, meanwhile Colonel Glimmer reported directly to His Majesty.

She was the coming mare, that was for certain, if she had not already arrived exactly where she meant to, and she was a living exemplar of the fact that there was no anti-Equestrian bias at an institutional level within Starfleet, that you could achieve success if you were willing to work within the system and not buck against it.

She was somebody to watch, that was for certain, and so Stern watched her very carefully, and watched his step around her what was more. Starlight Glimmer had a lot more eyes than the two set in her head, and if once she thought to turn the gaze of her formidable apparatus upon his family then they would be lost. With her, it was all the more vital that she believe him to be what he presented himself as: a model officer and model citizen both, the head of a model family, who obeyed the law to the last full stop.

Colonel Glimmer smiled. “You know, there was one day last week when I thought you were five minutes late.”

“Was I?”

“No,” she replied. “My watch was wrong.”

Stern chuckled, hoping that that was the reaction she would expect. “Well, I do my best to set an example for the younger fellows.”

“Yes, standards are slipping everywhere across the board, aren’t they?” Colonel Glimmer asked. “On an unrelated note, Colonel Stern, how’s the family? How are the kids?”

Stern didn’t allow his discomfort to show. “Oh, they’re just fine and dandy. Val is practicing for the big football game, and Gracie…well, I’m afraid she’s starting to get serious about boys.”

“Oh, that must be terrifying for you,” Colonel Glimmer said. “Let me know if you need a couple of burley intelligence operatives to stick her coltfriend in a dark cell for a few hours to teach him some respect.”

Stern laughed. “I’m sure it won’t come to that, but thank you for your generous officer.”

“Oh, think nothing of it,” said Colonel Glimmer, in a light-hearted tone. “And how’s Felix?”

Stern felt as though a bath full of ice had just been dumped on his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, ma’am.”

“Of course, you don’t,” Colonel Glimmer said, as she patted him reassuringly on the arm. “I just want you to know that you don’t have anything to fear from me. Provided that you don’t get in my way.”

Stern swallowed. “What…is there something you need from me, Colonel.”

“Just keep doing your job, without fear or favour,” Colonel Glimmer said. “And who knows, there may be new and challenging opportunities opening up soon for an officer of firm moral convictions. I think someone of your talents is rather wasted in babysitting. And now I really mustn’t keep you further. We both have our jobs to do, after all. Good day, Lieutenant Colonel.”

“Good day, sir,” Stern managed to force the words out as Colonel Glimmer walked away, her leather jacket trailing behind her. He himself did not move. It was all he could to stop shaking. He just stood there, in the middle of the corridor, like a statue or someone turned to stone by a gaze of a cockatrice.

She knows. By the Grand Ruler, she knows. She knows everything.

His first thought was to run. He wanted to turn around, go straight back home, grab Che and the kids and run. But that was pure foolishness, the kind of stupid decision that people made when panicked that they regretted when they were thinking clearly. Where would he go? What would he do? Where could they run to where the reach of Starfleet would not touch them? How could they run without looking guilty?

No, he would not run. He wasn’t a traitor and he wasn’t a criminal, he was a loyal servant to the Grand Ruler, a faithful and obedient officer, an honourable devotee of the ideals of Starfleet. His love for his son, his decision to break the rules one time, didn’t change that about him. He wasn’t going to turn his back on years of service because some spook in black had frightened him. This was his home, this was where his kids went to school, this was where he raised his family; this was his life, and he wasn’t going to be chased out of it.

Besides, if Starlight Glimmer had wanted to use this information to nail him then he was sure he would have found out in less convivial circumstances. Which must mean that she had spoken true, and she meant to sit on this information.

Which meant that she wanted something from him. What it was, what form this nebulous future favour would take, he didn’t know yet. But he would do it. Whatever it was, he would do it. Whatever it took to keep his family safe, he would do it and he would not look back.

Finally, fortified by a couple of cups of black coffee to strengthen his startled nerves, Stern made his way up to the isolated tower where his charge awaited.

He was greeted by the guard upon the heavy door, who saluted crisply as Stern reached the top of the stairs.

“Morning, sir,” the guard said. “You should be aware…she’s in there already.”

Stern rolled his eyes at the thought of the bane of his existence, Sunset Shimmer, who made his job twice as difficult as it needed to be and the princess’ life twice as hard. All she ever did was teach Princess Leilani to be discontent, and she showed no sign of even realising that.

“Open the door,” Stern said.

“Yes, sir,” the guard said, turning away to enter the code for the door into the keypad. Stern didn’t watch, but kept his gaze fixed above the guard’s head, upon the red iron door as it slid upwards with a hydraulic hiss.

He passed under the one door, and waited for the first to close before the second one opened, and there he found his charge: Princess Leilani, daughter of Celesto and Celestia…and her.

In the time since she had started calling upon the princess Colonel Stern had come to recognise Sunset Shimmer as the bane of his existence. She had no discipline, and being unruly she passed that unruliness on to the young princess. Even now, Princess Leilani went without the mask that hid her facial disfigurements from view, exposing her damaged visage to the view of respectable ponies; Stern could see the mask tossed idly on the bed, and he had no doubt at all whose idea that had been. As a result of the malign influence of that mare, the princess did nothing but strain against the bounds of righteous authority; she had none of the stoicism of his own son, who recognised the sacrifices that others made on his behalf.

And that’s the point, isn’t it? There were times when Stern hated this assignment, being tutor to a child so like his own and yet being unable to remark on the similarities. It was a cruel trick of cosmic irony that had landed him in this position. Gaoler to another child, tutor to another prisoner…there were times when it filled him with resentment, that the Grand Ruler could do openly what he and his wife were forced to do in secret, but always he remembered himself and his place; His Majesty had burdens the likes of him could only guess at, who was he to question the wisdom of a child of the gods? All that the Grand Ruler decreed was wisdom, all that he disposed of was in its proper place.

He only wished that the grandchild of the gods would not be so frustrating. And that he could be rid of the corrupting influence upon her.

Sunset Shimmer lay stretched out on the floor in her queer quadrupedal form, acting as a kind of cushion for Princess Leilani as she flopped on top of her. She looked up, the laughter freezing in her throat she caught sight of him.

“Good morning, princess,” Stern murmured coolly. “Miss Shimmer.”

“Lieutenant Stern,” Sunset replied with chill civility. She did that on purpose, he was certain of it: abbreviating his rank wrongly, from lieutenant colonel to lieutenant instead of to colonel. Princess Leilani had started doing it as well, and he had long since given up trying to correct them.

“Good morning, lieutenant,” Leilani said, climbing to her feet and smoothing out her skirt.

Stern sat down in a chair in the corner of the room. “Am I interrupting something?”

“I was about to start the magic lesson,” Sunset said. “You’d probably find it very boring.”

Stern blinked. “Magic. Equestrian magic?”

“I have the Queen’s permission,” Sunset declared.

“And what does His Majesty say to this?” Stern asked. “A grandchild of the gods lowering herself to the magic of-

“Of her mother?” Sunset asked. “I haven’t asked him what he thinks. I don’t need to.”

Stern leaned forwards. “And what is the purpose of this?”

“To see if Leilani enjoys it,” Sunset replied. “If she doesn’t, then she can stop. Some things don’t need a purpose, they’re just fun.”

“I am well aware of what fun is, Miss Shimmer, thank you,” Stern answered in clipped tones. He didn’t appreciate being treated like he was a humourous killjoy all the time just because that was how he needed to behave in order to do his job. He felt joy – at catching a big fish, at seeing his son score a touchdown, when making love – he just knew better than to bring his personal pleasures into work with him. “My question was more to do with the purpose of magic for her highness, here.”

Sunset climbed onto her four hooves. “Maybe Leilani won’t always be in here.”

“Sunset? What are you talking about?” Leilani asked.

Sunset turned away from Stern to look Leilani in the eyes. “I…I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to get your hopes up too high, but…your birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks, and so I thought that I would ask your parents if…if I could take you out for the day.”

Stern wanted to put his head in his hands, and only his iron discipline as a starfleet officer prevented him from giving voice to the feeling of despair he felt welling up inside of him.

Princess Leilani, on the other hand, seemed more shocked than despairing. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Don’t make yourself sound like a burden,” Sunset replied, with a tenderness that belied the folly of her words. “I…I’m not saying it will definitely happen…but I am saying that I’ll definitely try.”

“I could go outside?”

“Maybe, yeah.”

“And what would I do?”

“We’d do whatever you wanted.”

Leilani squealed with joy as she hugged Sunset round the neck. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you! Oh, Sunset, you’re the best!”

“Not by a long way,” Sunset murmured, as she draped one leg across the princess’ shoulders. “But I do what I can.”

Stern coughed as he rose to his feet. “Miss Shimmer, can I talk to you for a moment? Outside?”

Sunset glared at him for a moment, but she followed him out of the room and into the space between the two doors, where Stern knew the princess could not hear them.

“What in the name of all that is righteous do you think you’re doing?” Stern demanded.

Sunset’s eyebrows rose. “What do I think I’m doing? I’m trying to make her happy, what does it look like?”

“It looks to me like you’re trying to break her heart.”

“At least I treat her like she’s got a heart!”

“Are you really so naïve as to think that there is so much as a chance that His Majesty will agree to let you take her out of that room, out of this palace?” Stern demanded. “Do you think that he would be so cruel as expose his only daughter to the disgust and mockery of lesser ponies, to let the world see her in all her deformities as the subject for the hatred of the masses? Of course not! And yet you fill her head up with false hopes that are certain to be disappointed. I almost think you’re trying to make the princess miserable.”

Sunset’s face wore an expression that suggested that she was only a step or two from exploding with anger. “Wow. Okay, first of all she’s not deformed and even if she was, so what? She’s still a person, a child, with feelings and imagination and so much potential and somehow I’m the cruel one for not wanting to keep her a prisoner in a drab cell? Second, the ponies that I know would never mock someone for being different, let alone hate them; I know plenty of ponies who would love her just the way she is, the same way I do. Third, I’m not trying to give her false hope, I’m giving her a reason to live.”

“Life is the reason for living,” Stern replied.

“Her life is terrible,” Sunset yelled. “I want to give her something better, something more than this.”

“There is nothing better out there for kids like her,” Stern shouted. “This is the best they can hope for, and it’s better than not being alive at all.”

“Is it?” Sunset demanded. “Is it really? Can you look me in the eye and say that with a straight face?”

Stern’s face was expressionless as he looked down into Sunset’s eyes. “The life that she has, as hard as it is, is better than no life at all.”

Sunset shook her head. “How can you say that?”

“Because she’s alive and she’s loved,” Stern snapped. “Because she has you.” There, he had admitted it. To Sunset Shimmer…and to himself. She might be an appalling nuisance, she might be doing more harm than good; she certainly was doing more harm than good…but she also loved Princess Leilani, and that was about the only ray of sunshine in her life.

Lieutenant Colonel Stern hated to admit it but his job was not so much to teach the princess as it was to be hard on her. He taught her lessons, yes, but lessons that reinforced her own weakness, made her melancholy, made her compliant to the decision to keep her locked away. Curse him but he was good at it…but he was also self-aware enough to recognise that if he behaved at home the way he did at work then Felix’s life would be hell indeed. Sunset Shimmer…she was to Princess Leilani the way that Felix’s parents were to him at home. And if she sometimes gave the princess hope that would inevitably turn out to be in vain then…that was probably a small price to pay.

Sunset looked almost astonished to hear him say it. “If you think that then why do you act like you hate me?”

“Because I do hate you,” Stern said. “But I also envy you.”

Sunset frowned. “And that girl in there? Do you hate her too?”

“No,” Stern murmured. “Her I pity.”

“You do a great job of showing it,” Sunset muttered. “Don’t you think she deserves to go outside, to feel the sun on her face?”

“Hear the derisive laughter in her ears,” Stern said. “This isn’t Equestria, Miss Shimmer, we’re a different people now. His Majesty will refuse you, and rightly so; and the permission of the Queen will not be enough in this.”

“If you helped me-“

“I won’t,” Stern said quickly. “Because it’s a bad idea.”

Sunset snorted. “Could you at least try to be nicer to her?”

“That’s not my job,” Stern said at once. Then he thought of Felix, lying miserable in his bedroom all alone, wondering why he was still alive, and his heart cracked just a little. “But I’ll see what I can do.”

---

Lightning tugged at his collar as he waited outside the throne room. Captain Shaina, standing guard without the door, was kind enough not to remark upon his nervousness. Or perhaps she was simply too professional to notice aught that did not pertain to some immediate threat upon the life of His Majesty.

“You’ll be fine,” Krysta whispered from where she hovered by his ear. “Don’t sweat it, okay?”

Lightning was sweating it; he could feel it building upon his brow. “If this were just an ordinary meeting I wouldn’t worry; I’m afraid he’s going to talk to me about my marriage. And I…what can I say to him?”

“How about the truth?” Krysta suggested.

Lightning looked at her, trying to decide if she was kidding or not. “Come on, be serious.”

Krysta’s eyebrows rose.

“Well…you know,” Lightning explained. “His Majesty is…besides, he likes Starla.”

“He likes you too, remember.”

“I know, and I know that he only wants what’s best for me, but…if I don’t know what that is, how will he know?”

“Perhaps, with his wisdom, he’ll see what you don’t?” Krysta said.

“Perhaps,” Lightning murmured. “I suppose I should have more faith, shouldn’t I?”

“You should remember that this is the guy who took us in when we were lost and all alone, who gave us everything we have except each other,” Krysta said. “And…and I know that you don’t always think that your life has gone that great since that day, and I know that we both kinda miss the old days, but he did what he thought was best for both of us…and there were some good times too, yeah?”

“Yeah, with him,” Lightning murmured. “Like that time he taught us to play hopscotch.”

“He’s the closest thing we’ve got to a father, when all’s said and done,” Krysta declared. “Just remember that, because I’m sure he will as well.”

Lightning nodded. “Right. This isn’t bad. This is just…paternal advice. Got it.”

Shaina Emerald cocked her head a little. “As you wish, sire. Supreme Commander, His Majesty will see you now.”

“Thank you, captain.”

Captain Emerald nodded her head respectfully as she pushed open the doors to the great throne room, and stood to attention as Lightning walked inside. It was empty, save for a few guards and His Majesty himself, slouched upon his iron throne, his red cape glittered as patterns of stars danced inside the curls of his mane. Lightning was glad of that, it meant that their conversation was to be truly personal, and his marital problems were not to be hashed out in front of the entire court. Still, he felt the gaze of the Royal Guard upon him as he marched down the central traverse, passing each pair of warriors as they stood, stiffly to attention, spears held before them, until he reached the line beyond which none could pass without express permission of His Majesty.

Lightning bowed, placing one fist upon his heart. “Majesty, you summoned me?”

For a moment, His Majesty did not speak. When he did, it was not to Lightning that his weary-sounding tone was addressed. “Guards, give us leave; the Supreme Commander and I must have some private conference.”

Lightning did not raise his head to see, but hear the tramp tramp of the booted feet of the guards as they departed from the throne room on command, and heard the door close with a final slam. He wondered for a moment if Krysta would dare listen at the keyhole, and whether she would be allowed.

“Rise up, my faithful student and my son, arise,” the Grand Ruler declared. “Stand on your feet and look on me.”

Lightning rose slowly to his feet, his eyes arising also to look upon His Majesty as he descended from his throne and from the majestic dais set above to place his royal hands upon the shoulders of his chiefest sword and weapon in the field against the foe.

“How now, bold Lightning Dawn, how now, valiant warrior?” His Majesty asked, a benevolent and paternal smile upon his face. “How is it that the cares of worlds hang heavy round your neck, and how may I lift them from you and take them on myself?”

Lightning blinked. “I fear to speak my cares to Your Majesty would mock the heavy burdens of the state that daily do surround Your Majesty.”

The Grand Ruler sighed, taking his hands from Lightning shoulders and walking away from him, pacing down the centre of the throne room with his back to Lightning, as the latter turned to keep him in his sight.

“I know not how I have offended the gods who birthed me,” the Grand Ruler murmured, as his cloak drooped sadly down behind him. “But out of my blood, mixed with the lesser cordial of my mate, they’ve bred a rod and scourge to punish my great pride and overweening hubris.”

“I know no god could ever be so cruel,” Lightning said.

“Believe it, Lightning, when your eyes display the proof; look on my daughter,” His Majesty said, gesticulating with one arm as he turned back to face Lightning once again. “Sickly and deformed, hideous to look on, crippled and utterly devoid of worth. Look on my son: weak, feeble, unworthy of the state that he is heir to. Look on the children of my blood and can it be doubted that they are fit only for some providential power to be revenged on me.” He sighed, his arms dropping to hang limp by his sides. “And yet, for all of these misfortunes I have been consoled, as I was in the last of my long childless years, by you my dauntless bold and faithful son.”

Lightning bowed his head. “I have always endeavoured to serve Your Majesty to the best of my abilities.”

“And serve you have, with honour and distinction both,” the Grand Ruler declared. “You are no son of my blood, yet still I love you as a son in spirit; I have watched you grow into a fine pony and a great warrior and I flatter myself that I had some small part to play in making you the great stallion that you are.”

“I am very grateful for all that Your Majesty has done on my behalf,” Lightning murmured.

“Your every new achievement warms the cockles of my heart to hear of them,” the Grand Ruler said solemnly. “What never dying honour have you won against dread Titan, being but little in debt to year, discomfited him not once but thrice in all, and Chrysalis and renowned Fratello too. It comforted me, looking on my progeny in despair, to know that I had one as son to me in whom I could repose my trust and thus rest easy for the safety of the state.”

Lightning was tempted to look away, discomforted by this surfeit of great praise that he was undeserving of. That was another pony, a different Lightning. I fear I am no longer either so bold or so sure in purpose.

“And,” His Majesty continued. “When I lay awake at night disgusted at the thought of my ill-favoured marriage bed-“

“Your Majesty has loved the Queen for over a thousand years,” Lightning said.

“Aye, for so long I did desire her, and in desire kept chaste faith with the memory of our affection,” His Majesty said. “And yet she has turned out to be like a brightly coloured candy which invokes desire in the eyes but, when digested, brings only a sick stomach and rotten teeth. And yet in my romantic misfortunes it has been tremendous comfort to know that I had seen you matched well in love with a maid surpassing fair and virtuous.” He paused for a moment. “I came across Starla last night; you have greatly offended her.”

Lightning closed his eyes. “I fear, Majesty, that Starla and I are no longer so matched in love as once you were.”

“She is beautiful, is she not?” the Grand Ruler demanded. “And in virtues she is the very exemplar of the female of our race, being both brave and beautiful; strong, but not masculine to the eye; sweet, but not feminine in her behaviour. If you look to find a better than her you will search long and hard and never find her like.”

“I am aware,” Lightning murmured. “It is I who has become unworthy of her affections. Your Majesty…I am not myself, and not the warrior who won her love with deeds of valour in the field.”

“Yet her heart still crowns you king of love and honour,” His Majesty said tenderly. “Counts Starla’s faith for nothing?”

“I…”

“Starla told me there was another,” the Grand Ruler said. “I should hate to believe it.”

“I have lain with no other mare but her,” Lightning said quickly. “In that I have kept faith.”

“In body, but not in spirit?”

“There are many even in the Starfleet who break faith in body and they are not condemned,” Lightning replied.

“Males are males,” the Grand Ruler declared, advancing towards Lightning. “And being male, have needs that must be met; and it is better that our baser passions and more brute desires are met by common harlots than that we should sully the pure beauty of the marriage bed with crude, dishonourable, even painful pleasures. But such trysts mean nothing, they are of no account, forgotten ere they are passed. All good wives understand such things as they understand that their husbands, if they be not monstrous, truly love them, and them alone. What you have done, my son, is far the worse for you have given your heart to another, and to a lesser at that that, Lightning, that is what I find so hard to conceive of. Twilight Sparkle? That weak reed, that unreliable instrument, the bore of court, the exemplar of arrogance, Twilight Sparkle. Why, Lightning? Why, having such a paragon to wife as Starla Shine would you cast away all honour and your solemn vows and dwell desiring upon Twilight’s like? You must answer for I cannot guess.”

Lightning sighed. “All that you have said is, according to the values of our kind – for though I am an enticorn by blood, if I am your son in spirit then I count myself also of your race – too true. And yet…I cannot believe it. Though it be a little out of fashion here with us in United Equestria still I think there was much grace and valour in Twilight, and many other virtuous things besides.”

“Such as?”

“Kindness, loyalty, laughter-“

“These are flaws in a warrior, not things to aspire to,” the Grand Ruler declared. “What next, will you gush out from the eyes and make new rivers? Will you wear one face one moment and another mask the next, as changeable as the wind. You are my son, my sword, commander of my fleet; we are warriors you and I. We should be reserved, controlled, showing our feelings by but little show. Yet you consider Twilight’s flaunting of her feelings an example to be followed? Do you not remember how Celestia herself came to you and told you that Twilight brought her death upon herself by her great follies?”

“Twilight died fighting for all that she held dear and dearly believed in,” Lightning replied. “Is that not how we should all choose to die?”

“Enough of this, I’ll hear no more of Twilight Sparkle’s greatness,” His Majesty declared peremptorily. “Lightning, my son, my faithful student, my light and world, my captain and my chiefest prop, will you not become again that which you were: a faithful servant and a faithful husband both? Will you not relent in your cruelty against the virtuous Starla who has done no wrong to you? Will you not put aside this unworthy melancholy and take up the hero’s mantle once again? If you love me, as I love you, will you not do these things for the sake of we who love you?”

Lightning bowed his head. “I am grateful for the love that your majesty bears to me; and as you see me as a son so I look on you as a father. And yet…can a page that has been read be unread again? Can the eye unsee what it has seen? Can a road be unwalked once your feet have trod the path? I have learned things here, from Twilight, that I fear that I could not unlearn again to be again that which I was…even if I wanted to.” And I’m not at all sure that I do.

---

Celesto leaned back, feeling the pillow crumple beneath his head. “I fear for Lightning. Truly I do.”

“Why?” Chrysalis asked, laying her own head – still wearing the image of Celestia that she had once again put on for his amusement after he had had her brought up once again to his bedchamber – upon his chest. She wore no bruises this time, partly because Celestia had done nothing recently to rouse him to a fury and partly because Celesto’s mind had been full of his words to Lightning on the purity of the marriage bed and he had been minded to experience some of those more serene pleasures that the arduous nature of his marriage had denied to him: a gentle lovemaking, and a period of quiet post-conjugal contemplation where they could bask in the glow of pleasure and talk as man and wife. Celestia always left the room in a hurry as soon as his seed was spent, but now Chrysalis took on Celestia’s form and lay her head upon his virile hairy chest, looked up at him with sweet doe eyes, and offered an emotional pillow for his troubles.

He looked down upon her. “You are a being that feeds on love and yet you cannot understand the affection that a mentor feels towards his student.”

Chrysalis raised her head for a moment. “What matter it to you if he wishes to mope? Let him.”

“Show respect, Chrysalis, you speak of one who is as a son to me,” Celesto said sharply.

Chrysalis cringed a little. “I beg my lord’s forgiveness, I spoke out of turn.”

He ran his hand through her rainbow mane. “All is forgiven, sweetheart.” He bent his neck to kiss her on the forehead. “My worries are for Lightning and for Starla both. I love them both more than all the world, dearer than any other ponies in the realm, dearer than all the souls who in my empire dwell. They are…”

“My lord?”

“They are the only two ponies in all the vast dimensional universe who matter to me,” Celesto murmured. It was a strange confession, though those who heard it would probably think it strange in a different way than he found it himself. Observers might think it strange that his heart had been touched only by this pair; for himself the strangeness was that any had done so. His children? Disappointments, and if the gods willed he would have others. His wife? It was lust, not love, he felt for her. His people? Pawns in a game they could not comprehend. But Lightning and Starla…them he would spare for them he loved and…and them he could not live without. They had touched the heart of him who had been sent out amongst the stars to rule without forming any such attachments. He had taken Lightning in for his potential and yet the youth had grown on him in ways that he had not anticipated; and so he had decided to groom for Lightning the perfect wife such as he hoped would be prepared for him, and so he had spent time with Starla once her parents’ died. She, too, had reached through the armour of his majesty and attained unyielding grip upon his heart. He loved them both, and wished for them the happiness that duty had denied to him. It wounded him to see them so estranged.

He glanced down at Chrysalis. “I don’t suppose you could enchant Lightning back into affection with Starla with your powers?”

“Only if I played the part of Starla and charmed him into loving me,” Chrysalis replied languidly. “Somehow I doubt that would please you more than the current state of affairs.”

“You presume correctly,” Celesto said.

“My lord knows I would help if I could,” Chrysalis said. “I am at Your Majesty’s service.”

Celesto chuckled. “You serve me well enough as you serve now; more than that is not required. No, I must find another answer to this grave dilemma. Alas, for Lightning, this world and all its influences have corrupted him. Twilight Sparkle. If only she had died sooner.”

Chrysalis blinked. “Is Twilight not a fallen hero of this world?”

“Of course, a necessary deception,” Celesto said. “The truth can hardly be admitted.”

“What truth is so dangerous that it must cower behind a veil of secrecy?”

“The truth…” Celesto muttered. “That Twilight Sparkle died upon command.”

“Upon command of who?” Chrysalis asked. Her eyes were wide as saucers now. “Your command?”

“No,” Celesto said at once. “I never gave commandment for her death, my hands are clean. I merely spoke a word into an ear, that Twilight was looking where she should not look and threatened certain other truths that likewise cannot be revealed.”

“I see,” Chrysalis whispered. With one hand, she stroked Celesto’s chest. “But wherefore does my lord tell such news to me? I am but a mare, after all, weak and witless and unworthy to receive such grave council as my lord speaks of now. Find worthier ears with greater wit between them to hear such.”

Celesto chuckled, all anger at the presumption of her inquiry melting away like snow in the heat of the sun under the cleansing fire of her humility. “Console yourself, my love, that you know the limits of your wit, that’s more than most can say. Our time is done now, but I will send for you again. That was…most enjoyable.”

Chrysalis climbed out of bed and threw on a dark green robe. “I would count the seconds till we met again, my lord, were I not unaware of the passage of time.”

Celesto smiled. “Does that bother you?”

“On the contrary, my lord, it means that all my waking moments are spent with you,” Chrysalis declared. “What more could I ask for?”

---

“So, Carapace, how long have you been a Sergeant in the Grand Ruler’s Royal Guard?” Chrysalis asked of the guard who stood outside the door to disassemble her once more into a cube and put her back into the prison catacombs that lay beneath the palace.

The sergeant looked at her as though she was mad. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, insect scum!”

Chrysalis tittered with laughter. “The door is closed, and unless I am much mistaken Grand Ruler Celesto the Great has just put a spell on it to prevent eavesdropping. We cannot be overheard.”

The sergeant stared at her for a moment, before his eyes transformed from those of a pony to the beetle eyes of a changeling. “Forgive me, my queen, for-“

“Calling me ‘insect scum’? Don’t worry, Carapace, we all must play our roles to the full,” Chrysalis said. “How long have you been here?”

“Since the fall of our people, my queen,” Carapace said. “Waiting and watching.”

“Are there others like you?”

“A score in all, some guards, some servants. Not enough to accomplish anything for our kind.”

“Nevermind, it is enough that you are free,” Chrysalis replied. “Free, and burrowed into the belly of the beast itself.”

“What do we do, my queen?”

“Nothing, for now,” Chrysalis said. “I must wait and watch and listen and gather information. Once I know more then, with your help, I will bring this whole rotten edifice down upon their heads.”

Carapace nodded. “Will you escape now from captivity?”

”No, not yet, I am well placed now to find things out.” Chrysalis chuckled at the thought of how easy it had been to make Celesto spill his secrets to her, and how it had been even easier to stop him getting angry about it. “I will get no better chance than this to find out information that can be used against the Starfleet.” And no Twilight to stand in my way this time!

“Then what now?”

“Now I listen,” Chrysalis said, bending down and putting one ear to the door.

“But my queen, you said-“

“A spell has been placed upon the door,” Chrysalis said. “But Celesto did not reckon with my own skill at magic. A swift spell of her own was enough to dispel some of the interference caused by Celesto’s own spell, and enable to hear some of what was being said in the other room.

Though who is he talking to? There was nobody there when I left, and this is the only door.

“Your grip on Lightning Dawn is slipping.” The voice that spoke was slight, Chrysalis had to strain her ears to make it out, with something of a high-pitched eerie edge to it.

“I will allow no harm to come to him or Starla,” Celesto replied. “That is a condition of our bargain, mark it well. They are to be spared, and elevated with us to our glorious state.”

“We remember,” the other said. “But still…your grip upon your mind is slipping. Our tame Enticorn may not be so tame for much longer.”

“My son will remember who his father is and recall those who truly love him. He will return.”

”Perhaps…until then our father has arranged for a little surprise to keep him distracted while our plans proceed.”

“I said-“

“Don’t worry, we’re not going to hurt him. This is a nice surprise. I promise. Has there been any progress yet on locating the Seraph Key?”

“An Equestrian treasure hunter has been engaged to find the key and the vault both,” Celesto said. “She has gone to Helsinore, accompanied by Majors Dyno and Myte and several of my royal guards to keep an eye on her. They report back regularly and believe that they are getting close.”

“Can you trust her?”

“Of course not, she is but a lesser pony,” Celesto declared disdainfully. “But once the Vault of Heaven is discovered Dyno and Myte have orders to kill her and her companions.”

“Good,” the other said. “Without the power of the Vault we can never trigger the deconstruction necessary to ascend from this stale existence. You do understand that, don’t you little brother? You haven’t gotten attached to this mortal existence have you?”

Chrysalis’ eyes widened. Little brother? Who is this?

“I have not, and if you say so again-“

The other laughed. “Father wouldn’t like it if you hurt me. I just wanted to make sure that attachment hadn’t made you soft.”

“Why are you here?”

“Another unicorn is sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. She doesn’t know much right now, but she’s already starting to put the pieces together. You should have destroyed Twilight’s research when you had the chance.”

“There was no reasonable explanation I could have given for such a command, her friends would have started asking questions; that was precisely what I wished to avoid.”

“Now someone has started asking questions anyway, and they already have a head start on the answers thanks to Twilight’s notes.”

“Then deal with her as you did the other.”

“That’s a little difficult when you have our sister locked in a cell.”

“I cannot release her,” Celesto said sharply. “Again, it would be inexplicable to observers. But do you really mean to tell me that Raven cannot escape on her own.”

“There will be casualties. Does that matter?”

“Why should it?”

“Very well then,” the high-pitched voice said. “It shall be done.”

Chrysalis stepped back from the door.

“What is it, my queen?” Carapace asked.

“I do not know,” Chrysalis murmured. “And what I do not begins to worry me. I must know more of this.”

“I am at your command, my queen, and so are your servants.”

Chrysalis nodded. “Thank you, Carapace. Celesto gives a feast tomorrow, yes?”

“Yes, my queen.”

“Then here is what you must have someone do when the merriment is at its height,” Chrysalis said. “We’ll catch Celesto’s conscience and make guilt lead him to speak true.”

---

Lightning stepped out of the portal and onto the metallic floor of the Marefolk Navy Yard. Krysta flittered out just before the portal closed, leaving a trail of silver motes behind her.

“Thanks for giving me the shortcut.”

“Any time,” Krysta said. “But they didn’t say why they wanted you to come up here?”

“They hardly told me anything,” Lightning replied. “Just asked me to come to dock 3 of the spaceport, urgently.”

“You didn’t ask for any more details?”

“I figured if they asked me I should probably come over,” Lightning said. “Besides, I need to get some work done to take my mind off things.”

“Okay,” Krysta murmured. “Well, we’re here. What’s up?”

Lightning shrugged. Things looked pretty peaceful up here right now: there was hardly anybody around in this section of the dock, just a few marines and MPs, a couple of officers who looked like they were taking inventory. There was a ship, an armoured cruiser if he remember correctly, docked at the pier, he could see it through the window next to him, but that, also, looked rather peaceful.

“Supreme Commander!”

Lightning turned around to see a dark brown pony in the uniform of a captain marching briskly towards him. The officer stopped and saluted, which Lightning returned.

“Glad you could make it down here so quickly, sir. Captain Hardcastle, sir, of the New Baltimare.”

“Is that your cruiser docked outside, captain.”

“Yes, sir,” Hardcastle replied. “A couple of days ago we intercepted a pirate ship out by Mandala. Pursued her, knocked out her engines, took her a prize.”

“Standard stuff,” Lightning murmured.

“Yes, sir, all according to procedure. We found a load of slaves in the hold, brought back here for processing, ID, repatriation; again, all standard stuff. But this is when it gets interesting, sir. You see…”

Lightning frowned. “Spit it out, captain.”

“Two of the captives, sir, they…they say they’re from Harmonius.”

Krysta gasped. Lightning felt his heartbeat quicken as his brown eyes widened. “They what?”

“I didn’t believe it at first, sir, but they’re insistent…at least one of them is. She’s being difficult. Well, she was difficult from the moment we found her but now they’re refusing to go into processing. They’ve hold themselves up at the far end of the dock and they won’t come out.”

“They’re probably scared,” Krysta said. “No matter where they came from, imagine what they must have gone through on that slave ship.”

Hardcastle nodded. “I…I was hoping that you might talk to them, commander…being from Harmonius yourself. Perhaps you could calm them down, make them understand it’s safe.”

Lightning shook his head. “It’s not possible. It…it can’t be true.” Harmonius was gone. His planet had been destroyed by Serpentari, and all his people with it. He was the last of his kind, the last Enticorn. He couldn’t…was it possible that he had been wrong about that for all this time, and that instead of finding his people he had neglected them? “It can’t be true.”

Hardcastle looked troubled, but he nodded. “Very well, sir, I’ll have the marines go in and drag them out.”

“No,” Lightning said sharply. “Whoever they are, however mistaken they are, why ever they decided to lie about this…they deserve better than that. I’ll go talk to them.”

“Lightning,” Krysta murmured.

“You said it yourself, they must have been through Tartarus,” Lightning said. “They deserve…they deserve a little kindness.”

“Okay,” Krysta whispered. “Do you want me to hang back?”

“No, I need you with me, just in case,” Lightning replied.

Krysta hovered by his side as he walked forward, his boots echoing upon the metal deck as he walked forward towards the end of the pier, leaving Hardcastle behind. Starfleet personnel saluted him, but Lightning ignored them. His thoughts were upon other things.

The fire, the snake, those eyes…those terrible eyes. The smoke and the flame. The screaming.

“Lightning,” Krysta cried. “Come on, don’t do that?”

“Huh?”

“Get lost in your thoughts like that, come on, talk to me.”

“I don’t believe it,” Lightning said. “I was the only survivor, the Grand Ruler told me that himself. If he…he wouldn’t lie to me. And if he was wrong…how did they survive?”

“How did you survive?”

“I don’t remember,” Lightning said. “I…I remember the flames and the screaming and then…then I was somewhere else. There’s nothing else.”

“Then maybe someone else did get away.”

“Maybe,” Lightning murmured. “What would I do, if they were telling the truth?”

“You’ll figure it out,” Krysta said. “After all, it would be a good thing, wouldn’t it?”

I’ve no idea, Lightning thought, as he and Krysta reached the far end of the pier. Someone, presumably the difficult person claiming to be from Harmonius, had made a crude barricade out of crates and barrels; he couldn’t see who was behind it.

“That’s close enough,” a female voice yelled from the other side. “I told you I’m not coming out so that you can take my princess away to do who knows what to her. You’re not getting to her while I draw breath.”

The voice was high and clear, with a slight sharp edge to it. It was…strangely familiar, though Lightning couldn’t quite place where from. Did I know this person? She sounds about my age. Someone from my kindergarten class? Except…beyond remembering that he had attended kindergarten he didn’t actually remember anything about it or who had gone there. He didn’t…the truth was he hardly remembered anything about Harmonius beyond the fact that it had been destroyed. He didn’t remember any friends, he didn’t remember any names or faces. He…he couldn’t even remember what his parents looked like, and even trying to gave him a headache. So why did this voice sound familiar.

“Calm down,” he said, stepping into view. “I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Lightning Dawn. You say that you’re from Harmonius?” He didn’t add ‘like me’. There would be time for that later if they stuck to there story.

“L-Lightning Dawn,” another voice spoke, milder, softer, more of a whisper, lacking the strength of the earlier voice. “Is-is it really-“

“No way!” the first voice cried irately. “I don’t know where you got that name but how dare you try and pass yourself off as my best friend like that. I don’t know who you are but there’s no way that you’re-“ a green eye appeared in a hole in the barricade. “Lightning! What the hay are you doing on two legs like that?”

“I…do I know you?” Lightning asked.

There was a grunting sound like someone exerting themselves, before a white mare about his age pulled herself up over the tip of the barricade with her forelegs. She was a winged unicorn – or an enticorn, if she was telling the truth – with a fiery red mane hanging messily down over her face, partially obscuring her vivid green eyes. “Lightning Dawn, by the thunder it really is you!” Her face broke out in a wild smile that made her eyes gleam even brighter. “Hey, princess, you’re not going to believe this! It really is him! Someone’s messed around with his body to make him look like all those other freaks but I’d recognise that goofy face anywhere! Haha!” She dropped down out of sight for a moment before the barricade exploded outwards with a clatter of crates and barrels.

Behind the white mare, a second stood revealed, with a lavender coat and purple eyes that looked a little like Twilight Sparkle, although her mane was purest silver with a streak of gold. She shivered a little, whether from cold or nerves, though her face brightened even as the other’s had when she saw Lightning.

“Lightning Dawn,” she gasped. “Providence be praised!”

Lightning shook his head, retreating back a step. “I’m sorry…I don’t know who you think I am.”

“Lightning, what are you talking about?” the white mare with the red mane asked, stepping out beyond the ruins of the barricade. “Lightning…it’s me. It’s Snowflame, and this is Princess Fairgrace, remember?” Princess Fairgrace – if that was her name – smiled nervously, while Snowflame advanced towards him. “We used to play together, you and me, when we were little, before…don’t you remember?”

Lightning said nothing. Snowflame’s eyes become clouded with fear and worry.

“Come on,” she said. “Stop messing around. You have to remember. Remember the time that you broke into Her Highness’ chambers after I dared you to steal her comb for me? I never imagined that you’d do it, because you were a crybaby and a coward and I never thought that you could be brave, but you did it and then you got caught and you were ready to take the blame for it with my father and hers, but Her Highness thought it was so funny that you got let off, and you didn’t blame me at all and the princess became our friend? Don’t you remember that?”

Lightning scowled. He didn’t remember, or at least he didn’t think that he did…but there was feeling building up in the back of his head, like a really bad headache was about to come on him.

“How about the time that we tried to stay up all night and watch for the Great Pumpkin, only we fell asleep and missed it?” Snowflame asked. “Or when I kissed you on the cheek? Please, Lightning, please say you remember. Don’t say you’ve forgotten everything. Don’t say that you’ve forgotten us. Don’t say that you’ve forgotten me.”

Lightning was breathing heavily now, gasping raggedly, but he hardly noticed. “Snow…flame?”

Snowflame nodded eagerly. “Yes. Yes, it’s me, I’m right here. Do you remember?”

“I…I think I…aaagh!” Lightning cried out in pain as a migraine hit him with all the force of a train barrelling down the tracks to flatten anything or anyone unfortunate enough to get in the way. His vision became spotty, and then it blurred into darkness as he felt himself topple over. He flung out hand desperately even as the other grabbed his head in a futile gesture. He felt himself hit the cold, hard floor with a thump, the pain barely registering against the aching in his head. He felt as though a dam had burst and his head was being flooded. Flooded with…memories.

”I could too get in there if I wanted to!”

“Could not! You’d be too scared. Fraidy-cat!”

“Am not!”

“Are too. If not, go in there and get me that comb. I dare ya!”

“Lightning?” people were calling his name, Krysta, Snowflame, Fairgrace all crying out for him in alarm, but Lightning was in too much pain to do more than moan in response. “Lightning? Lightning!”

Author's Note:

It has been pointed out in the TV Tropes page for this fic that most of the characters are very unsympathetic. This chapter has attempted to show a different side to Starla, in particular, with her brief scenes, who has not been portrayed as a bit of a bitch I fear in her brief appearances so far.

I was recently re-reading the original Starfleet Humans and it struck me how Human Starla plays the role of the Good Girl whose job it is to wait, patiently and forlornly, for the dumbass to hero to realise that there is a perfectly nice and pretty cute girl over there pining for him so for god's sake kiss her, you idiot. It struck me how those sorts of characters often make said hero look like kind of a dick, and I wanted to address that a little in this chapter.

I also wanted to show how, even if the Grand Ruler is still an giant douche, he really does care about Lightning and Starla and wants them to be happy together.

There's a bit of a retcon in this chapter in that Lt Col Stern was first mentioned as a lieutenant. I decided to give the character several promotions when I decided that he should be a mature family man; there's a flimsy explanation for the retcon given in the text itself.

I asked LegendBringer if I could mention his fic as an in-universe show, and it will make more of an appearance in a later chapter. Revelation of the Method, for those of you who don't know, is (as I understand) the idea that the government uses shows like The X-Files to suggest that there is a government conspiracy to slaughter or enslave most of the population of the United States and created a New World Order; that way, when Alex Jones tells you that there is a government conspiracy to slaughter or enslave most of the population of the United States and created a New World Order you won't believe it because it sounds like something out of The X-Files.

Next chapter will pick up with Rainbow Dash and Lightning Dust.

Comments

[Celestias Paladin]

Some more Take Thats in this chapter I seem and at least one that is needed. I really, really dislike TCB in all its current forms.

Grand Ruler I think there are some real life generals that would like to have a word about you about kindness, loyalty, and laughter within and with out the ranks.

[Alchemystudent]

Yay, new Starfleet Nemisis...

(sees its 21000+ word)

Bring it on!!!!

-------------------------------------------------------------

I love seeing Moondancer becoming so overcome ith grief that she is putting in so much effort to find outte truth. How much of it is real and how much of it is her trying in vain to establisha new connection with Twilight is left to be seen.

constant retcons, how much of this really happened?

If there is one thing that annoys me more than anything about the work, it's this. I don't mind fic authors going back and changingn things in their stories. Sometims a new plot thread needs to be established or A plot point needs to be improved. It happens. Even Pen Stroke modified PAst Sins to adapt to season 2. The diference is...he made it so everyone could know about it. All Mykan needs to do is post a blog post about the changes and wich is the true version. As it stands, everyone knows about the first story, but don't know that in the new version Brain is no longer in the party and Starla has a backstory. I bet if I looked into Starfleet Humans right now, I will find at least three differences.

"Hey!" a high pitched voice cut through his pain.

Navi? Is that you?

"I dunno. I'm...me, I guess. I think my name's Krysta, but I don't know why I think that so I could be way off. Still, there's no one around to tell me different so Krysta it is."

Ok, I love this line. It's an orginal line when it comes to amensia.

He collapsed on the ground, curled up, sobbing like a baby. He barely felt Kyrsta settling on his shoulder.

See, this is what happens when you make a character who only cries throguh the "Single manly tear" cliche. You miss emotional moments like this. This makes lighting far more human in my eyes and I can feel for him more.

Also this

That's pretty Rough

Shows a lot more humanity than he did when Fratello died where he made it all about him

So, how in the dark between stars did you end up with this guy?"

I like Snarky Krysta

No." Lightning smirked. "Some friend, right?"

Not in cannon you are. But here...I like you. This Lighitng I would follow and enjoy.

I...I never expected you to be eternally faithful; you're a male after all, and you have male needs that I won't always be able to meet, that's the way things are.

Starla, that is a horrible way of thinking.

"Those aren't virtues, those were Twilight's weaknesses,"

*Slap* That is for insulting Twilight. *Slap harder* and that is confusing desire for love. Still, you put way more effort into why she loved Lighting then the cannon story.

So what did Twilight have that she didn't?

*pulls out a list* Want it alphabetical?

Nevertheless I will speak with Lightning and cure him of this ill affliction. You have my word I will bring you two back into such affection that you will be a model of love to the dimensional universe."

Why does this line scare me?

Snowflame

And now all I want is to see Snowflame from Linkara's world show up. Must not do the S/nowflame voic when I read this./

Phew, long chapter, but a damn good one. I loved seeing the difference between Lighing and the cannon one. IT all felt very real and human. I also loved how Grand Ruler talked ot lighting , feeling like a god here. I also found the hints to a bigger game being played to be very interesting.

[Legendbringer]

Aw Artie, even in an alternate fic you are still one of my favorite characters of the Starfleet team.

it struck me how Human Starla plays the role of the Good Girl whose job it is to wait, patiently and forlornly, for the dumbass to hero to realise that there is a perfectly nice and pretty cute girl over there pining for him so for god's sake kiss her, you idiot.

I had a lot of problems with this too. Espeically in the equel where she pines for him...even after she finds out that he is married!!! But, unndaunted, she still makes the moves for him and wants him. She even puts a kiss on him. And how doe Starla react?

"Teehee, you cheated on me. It's fun!"

Oh, Grand Ruler, when I am trying my best to decide who is worse: MY Grand Ruler vs. you. I think you have just jumped off the slippery slope.

I alos love the difference we are taking in the feelings of love and devotion between the two sides. I am playing Grand Ruler off as I have seen him in cannon, hasnt shown that muchin the way of love for his son. You pull of a nice variation where he is showing a lot of love and devotion to him. However, in a way, both are equall just as wrong and cruel. It's just that mine is abusive, while yours is basically like a man puttingone child above the rest.

“These are flaws in a warrior, not things to aspire to,” the Grand Ruler declared. “What next, will you gush out from the eyes and make new rivers? Will you wear one face one moment and another mask the next, as changeable as the wind.

Was this taken from Mykan's blog about why he hates the MLP cast and Twilight and how he writes? Because that how it feels.

Yellow eyes

Hehehehehehehahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!! Sorry, this will come important later on in my fic.

Can i just finish this off by saying, I love how you make Lighting into a character I root for, the guy I want to follo w and read about. IT just keeps inspirng me to write more wiht this guy and I have to say, I donb;t think Lighitng's role or development would be as complete if it wasn't for this fic.

[Scipio Smith]

7752106

Navi? Is that you?

Hahah. I'll have to get her to demand that Lightning listen at some point.

Starla, that is a horrible way of thinking.

One of the interesting things about profoundly unequal societies is the way in which they come to condone or even demand a degree of adultery. In ancient Rome, for example, sex with your wife was strictly for the purpose of breeding new Romans; if you wanted to have fun then you should find a barbarian slave. And you get the same sort of thing in the Antebellum South where white women are put on such a pedestal that men are almost expected to sleep with the slaves because that way they're not visiting their bestial urges on their wives. So that was the kind of thing i was going for with this.

*pulls out a list* Want it alphabetical?

What I've tried to get at with Starla is that, by the values of her society, she is the ideal woman, the ideal wife. And that's what baffles both her and Celesto, that Lightning has abandoned her for someone who is clearly inferior in their eyes. Of course what they don't get is that this is all bound up not just in Lightning's rejection of her but in his moves to reject their entire value system.

[Scipio Smith]

7752211

Was this taken from Mykan's blog about why he hates the MLP cast and Twilight and how he writes? Because that how it feels.

Yes, it was. There's a link to it in one of his comments to the last chapter and some of it stuck in my mind.

I had a lot of problems with this too. Espeically in the equel where she pines for him...even after she finds out that he is married!!! But, unndaunted, she still makes the moves for him and wants him. She even puts a kiss on him. And how doe Starla react?

"Teehee, you cheated on me. It's fun!"

Really? I didn't remember that. That...reduces some of the sympathy I had for Starla actually; my main complaint in the first fic is that Lightning led her on without giving her any sign that he had a best girl back home.

But really, in a lot of ways the problem is with this whole character type. I don't think I can come up with a single example where the man didn't come off like a jackass for ignoring this person who is devoted to him, to the point where you often wonder what the girl sees in him.

Aw Artie, even in an alternate fic you are still one of my favorite characters of the Starfleet team.

You were a big influence, actually. I'd wanted to bring Ilia back because she's one of my favourite minor characters, but I probably wouldn't have made her Artie's girlfriend if it hadn't been for your take on Artie.

Oh, Grand Ruler, when I am trying my best to decide who is worse: MY Grand Ruler vs. you. I think you have just jumped off the slippery slope.

This statement is quite amusing to me considering that he spends most of this chapter actually trying to be nice.

[Your Local Daemonhunter]

“Kindness, loyalty, laughter-“

“These are flaws in a warrior, not things to aspire to,” the Grand Ruler declared.

Ah, Grand Ruler... shitting on the virtue of loyalty like a fucking idiot.

Seriously, you're in charge of a fucking army. Loyalty should be one of the most important fucking virtues to instill in your troops. Otherwise, your soldiers will sell you out at the drop of a hat.

(Just some commentary. I believe that's actually the point. Great story, by the way. Having a blast reading it.)

[N Harmonik]

Wow. You actually sort of made Celesto sympathetic.

[Scipio Smith]

7769882

It was after I read on the TV Tropes page that someone (I actually thought it was you at first, but it turned out to be BossKey) thought that all the characters were unsympathetic I decided to write a chapter showing the softer sides to Starla and Celesto.

[N Harmonik]

7770167
I see, I see.

Do you not remember how Celestia herself came to you and told you that Twilight brought her death upon herself by her great follies?

I presume you shall explain this?

I'm a bit surprised that the makers of the show and movies of Starfleet Magic got away with coming up with the story of Rhymey mind controlling Fluttershy.

[Titan Commander Sebaste]

Uh oh...

[Shuruisoul]

Grand ruler... Oh grand ruler... Without loyalty how can you keep your military up and running with zero traitors,without laughter how can we keep are morale and spirits up and without kindness,then well it will make you likely be no different than villains you have starfleet slay,well the actual evils one tho

[heavens-champion]

Celesto and Raven are related?
Also, something must have happened to prevent Lightning Dawn from remembering Harmonius, because he's getting the mother of all headaches from just remembering it.