• Published 12th Apr 2016
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STAR WARS / FiM: Realms of the Heavens - Tathem_Relag



An Imperial expeditionary group exploring the Unknown Regions of the Galaxy encounters a planet far more bizarre - and, potentially, dangerous - than anything they could have possibly predicted.

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Chapter Twenty-Nine: Revolution and Revelation

Canterlot
1/10/4
11:48 A.M.

A VOTE FOR LUNA
IS A VOTE FOR WAR

Twilight could still read the graffiti, despite the best efforts of the Guardsponies scrubbing at the wall. Based on the words alone, it could have belonged to either of the two gangs that were rampaging through the streets of every city, though the blue paint and crescent moon and star symbol betrayed it as belonging to the faction that wanted to depose Celestia and install Luna in her place. They called themselves the “New Lunar Republic,” though critics pointed out that they were simply calling for the installation of a different absolute monarch, not the abolishment of the royalty and holding of free and open elections. In an attempt to paint Celestia as a human puppet, they had dubbed the current regime the “Solar Empire.” Celestia’s supporters had instead adopted the name with pride, viewing it as an indicator of her strong and capable leadership.

Somehow, it had been leaked to the general populace that Luna was a constant advocate for driving the humans out by force, whereas Celestia continued to seek a peaceful resolution. And once a few firebrands started throwing around their rhetoric, pony nature ensured that they would find large crowds of all-too-willing followers hanging on their every word.

Shouting and crashes could be heard from an alleyway. “Your Highness, are you sure you want to be out here?” Twilight’s escort asked, casting a nervous glance into the shadows. “There’s plenty of good food available in the castle.” A squad of guards flew past on their way to quell yet another riot.

Twilight stamped her hoof on the ground. “Yes, I am sure. I Pinkie Promised to Rarity and Pinkie that I would check out this new restaurant they were talking about, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” She chuckled. “You don’t want Pinkie finding out that I broke a Pinkie Promise, do you? Who knows what she might do.”

“But think of what it’d do to me if you got hurt on my watch!”

She nuzzled him. “Aww, is big bad Lieutenant Flash Sentry worried about me?”

He smiled at her. “No, I’m worried about me. Your big brother writes my paychecks, remember?”

They shared a laugh over that. It was, Twilight reflected, the first time she had laughed since she awoke three days ago. The thought that she had killed, even under the influence of an evil spirit, horrified her, though not as much as the realization that more killing would probably occur soon. Last she could remember, the situation with the humans had been… tense, to say the least. Now, things were a hair’s breadth away from all-out war. The thing that made her the most sick to think about, however, was that ponies had died defending her from a group of humans gone mad. It was their duty, she knew, but she didn’t consider herself worth as much as over half a thousand other ponies. She had managed to avoid thinking about it too much by pouring all of her energy into studying the captured human technology. But even that had failed to prove relaxing.

Their handheld weapons – E-11 blaster rifles, if she recalled Malen’s tour correctly – weren’t powerful enough to kill a pony with a single energy beam, but they would injure horribly, and as the battle at her castle had proven, three beams was sufficient to kill, even through guardspony armor. Most of the humans didn’t wear armor at all, aside from their helmets, and it wasn’t hard to see why.

Tests had shown that the white pieces of plastic-like armor the stormtroopers had worn barely had any effect on their weapon’s beams, so why they wore it at all confused her. It had proven quite resilient to physical attacks, with many powerful strikes by an Earth pony’s hooves being needed to knock an armored human out and spears being totally worthless unless thrust through the armor’s joints, but the humans used weapons that imitated a beam spell. Unless they expected to be fighting enemies who possessed the same level of weaponry as the Royal Guard on a regular basis, why wear it? Surely it only slowed them down and made them more vulnerable? And if they did expect to be doing that, why not give all their troops that armor? It didn’t make any sense.

The stormtroopers’ helmets defied logic even more than their armor. A short-snouted and small-headed mare had managed to squeeze into one, and she had reported that she was barely able to see out of it at all. Human eyes were much smaller and located slightly closer together than pony eyes, so the fact that it cut off most of her field of vision was hardly a surprise. However, the material that they apparently saw through, which seemed to also be some form of plastic, was almost totally opaque. Anything more than fifty feet away turned completely black. Human eyes didn’t seem built for unusually good night vision, so their helmet would practically blind them. It utterly confounded her.

Also found on the armors’ belts were advanced human medical supplies, some truly disgusting excuses for food, hoofcuffs, small black squares that were apparently necessary for the blasters to function, “comlink” communication devices that, for some reason, didn’t seem to work, and “thermal detonator” weapons that the researchers could find no way to activate. The degree of non-functionality that plagued the humans’ equipment was astounding. Didn’t they care about their soldiers’ lives? She knew that they weren’t nearly as bothered by death as ponies were, but giving their soldiers such awful gear was insane! If they didn’t care enough to ensure quality, why bother giving it to them at all? Spending Celestia-knows how many bits on all of that equipment, only for it to either be useless at best or actively hindering at worst? What idiot decided that was a good idea?

Work on the captured walking vehicles was going painfully slowly. While the humans spoke Equestrian, they didn’t write it. All of the controls were labeled with strange symbols, and after random button-pressing had resulted in the destruction of a lab and the scorching of quite a few manes and tails, new facilities were being built for the vehicles’ containment. Until those were done, few ponies wanted to get anywhere near them.

“Princess? Are you okay?”

Twilight snapped back to the present. She had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk with a scowl on her face. “Oh, sorry, Flash. I was just thinking about… well, about everything that’s been going on.”

He wrapped a wing around her. ‘Hey, stop that. All you’ve got to be thinking about right now is how lucky you are to be taking me out to lunch.” He gave her a lopsided grin, letting her know that he was joking.

She pushed his wing off, but returned the smile. “I think you’ve got that backwards. You’re the lucky one. I am a Princess, after all. You’re hitting way above your weight. Oh, and you’re the one taking me out. The food’s coming out of your pay.”

“Wha-? Hey!”

She laughed again. Her friends had taught her that even as all of Equestria seemed to be collapsing around her, she needed to be able to enjoy herself once in a while.


Location: Everfree Imperial Garrison
Local Time: 11:53

“… but they’re being kept in the caves under the castle until the new rooms are done. And that’s all I know. Now, will you please tell me why I’m talking with you, and not Zem?”

Gavrisom hauled himself up from behind his – actually Aerin’s – desk and walked over to the cabinets at the side of the room. “He’s currently engaged with another pony who has proven more receptive to us than most.” He opened the door of one of the cabinets, and let loose a short laugh in a mixture of amusement and mild derision when he found it totally filled with Alderaanian brandy. He pulled out a bottle and examined the label. 943 ARR. A good year. Putting the bottle back in its place, he closed the door and moved on to the next cabinet. Finding what he was looking for, he walked back to the desk with a sheet of flimsiplast, an ink pen, and a red ribbon. “Also, I have something special for you, as a means of saying ‘thank you’ for all the help and kindness you’ve given to us. It would be just as valid coming from Zem, but I thought you might be more impressed with it if it came from someone of a technically higher rank.” He pressed the tip of the pen to the flimsi, saying the words out loud as he wrote them.

“Let it be known that on this date, 28:4:24, I, Sturm Gavrisom, by the power vested in me by His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Palpatine, as Imperial Governor of the Celes System and an Admiral in the Imperial Navy, hereby bestow full Imperial citizenship, the status of Honorary Human, and all associated rights and privileges upon the alien Lyra Heartstrings (Species: Pony; Subspecies: Unicorn; Gender: Female) for commendable activity in the service of the Galactic Empire. Long live the Emperor.”

He rolled the sheet into a scroll and tied it shut with the ribbon. “Congratulations, my dear, on being the first inhabitant of this planet to receive this honor. You truly are a credit to your species.”

She levitated the scroll over to herself with a look of almost religious joy on her face. “Th– thank you!”

“Of course, Miss Heartstrings. You’ve very much earned it. Unfortunately, this planet is under Imperial quarantine until our… situation… with the local government is resolved. Once it is, however, rest assured that I will ensure that you are provided with transportation to any planet in the galaxy that you so choose. For now, good day, Miss Heartstrings. Oh, and do try to keep this a secret, would you? I ask this for your own safety – there are many ponies who would be less-than-pleased to discover your connections with us.”


Fluttershy’s Cottage
11:55 A.M.

“You what?!

Fluttershy frowned. She thought she had spoken quite clearly. Then again, ponies often had difficulty understanding her, so she repeated herself, a little louder and slower. “I said that, after lunch, I’d like you to come with me to the Ponyville Day Spa. I think you’d enjoy it.”

Orramas rubbed his eyes. “I thought you said that. Look, I’m willing to do a lot of degrading things for the sake of foreign relations, but this isn’t one of them. Spas are for women and deviants, and in case you somehow hadn’t noticed, I’m neither of those things.”

“‘Deviants’?” she repeated, her face scrunched with confusion. “What do you mean?”

Orramas lowered his hands from his face and shot her a look that implied that she had been dropped on the head as a filly. “Exactly what it sounds like I mean, of course! People who engage in deviant behavior!”

Fluttershy tilted her head. “Sooooo…. going to a spa is considered unusual where you’re from?”

Orramas’s expression turned blank. “You really don’t get it?” She shook her head, and he sighed. “In this context, it means ‘sodomites.’” She remained just as confused as before. Orramas struggled, but he managed to force the word out of his mouth. “Homosexuals!”

Understanding flooded onto her face, then just as quickly receded. “How is that ‘deviant’? It’s perfectly normal.”

Orramas’s jaw dropped. “‘Normal’?! It’s abhorrent! No infertile relationship has any place in the galaxy!”

Fluttershy stared at him with disapproval. “Now, Zem! That’s very closed-minded! Nopony can determine who somepony else will love.”

“Yes, we can! The whole purpose of love is to ensure the creation and protection of the next generation! Any feelings of attraction that don’t aid in that goal aren’t love – they’re mental illness!

“Even if you think that, it doesn’t hurt anypony, so how can you justify outlawing it?”

“We outlaw tons of things that don’t overtly harm anyone! Our goal isn’t individual happiness, it’s the well-being of the general galactic populace! Order and the greater good must be upheld, no matter how many personal freedoms have to be restricted to do so! Otherwise, the galaxy will collapse into anarchy, and far more people will suffer than ever would under even the most restrictive totalitarian dictatorship.”

“Princess Celestia doesn’t do that, and Equestria has been at peace for a thousand years!”

“Yeah, well, Celestia can rely on non-overt threats to enforce order. Unlike you, we’re not ruled by a near-deity. Our leader is chosen based on competence, not power. Emperor Palpatine isn’t some immortal, nigh-omnipotent sorcerer. He’s just a man, much like any other. And he’s getting old. If he was in perfect health, he’d have thirty, maybe forty years left. But he isn’t. Numerous assassination attempts and the sheer stress of leading the entire galaxy for twenty-five years have gotten to him. Frankly, I’d be surprised if he makes it another fifteen before he burns out. And when he does, a new Emperor will be elected by the Imperial Senate. We revere the Emperor, but he’s hardly god-like. We have to use force to rule.”

“Ponies don’t follow Celestia because she’s ‘more powerful’ than anypony else! They do it because she’s kind, and wise, and she loves everypony!”

“Says who?”

“Wha- What?”

“You heard me. Says who? Who says that Celestia is kind, or is wise, or loves?”

“Everypony!”

“But based on whose standards? Celestia’s. She’s ruled you for a thousand years. When’s the last time you had a dissenting opinion that wasn’t immediately ignored? She’s controlled you for so long that your entire system of logic and morality is based solely around her whims! ‘Why does Celestia rule?’ ‘Because she’s good.’ ‘How do we know what good is?’ ‘Because Celestia told us.’ ‘Why does she get to tell us what’s good and bad?’ ‘Because she’s our ruler.’ Your reasoning is totally circular!”

“You just don’t know her like we do!”

“No, we don’t. So we’re able to form objective conclusions that you can’t. You’re too close to the issue. You look at her and see a loving deity. We look at her and see a powerful being with far too much influence and control. We know what it’s like to be in that situation. It’s almost destroyed us, before.”

“Celestia isn’t a goddess! She’s an alicorn!”

“And the difference is…?”

“We don’t worship them!”

“No, you’re just utterly servile to your oh-so-perfect Princesses.”

“We know they aren’t perfect! They’re just wiser than anypony else.”

“By. Their own. Standards.”

“By everypony’s standards!”

“Which are shaped by a thousand years of Celestia’s absolute, unquestioned control.”

“And why do you think almost nopony opposed her?!”

“Because they weren’t stupid enough to fight her and end up six feet under.”

“Celestia wouldn’t do that!”

“Several hundred caskets marked with the Imperial Crest would say otherwise.”

“You didn’t give her any choice!”

“‘I had no choice.’ Words used to defend many atrocities.”

“Oh, is that something you Imperials have a lot of experience with?”

Orramas stood up. “This is going nowhere. Neither of us is in a good mood, and I can see things are degrading into pointless mud-slinging. Before either of us do something we might regret, I’ll be leaving. Goodbye, Miss Fluttershy. I’ll see you again tomorrow, hopefully under more pleasant conditions.”

Fluttershy scowled at his back until he shut the door, and continued glaring at it for several minutes before letting go of her anger with a sigh. Everything she had said was true, of course, but she wouldn’t change his mind about anything by shouting at him.

Change his mind…

A sudden realization chilled her to the bone. His accusations about Princess Celestia had filled her with righteous anger, which pushed her into the Stare.

He had met her gaze without flinching.


Location: Everfree Imperial Garrison
Local Time: 11:57

Aerin entered his office moments after the informant left. “How can you defend working with such a foul creature?” he demanded.

Gavrisom poured himself a glass of brandy. “Yes, yes, I know. You hate aliens. You’re wasting your breath, Dav. I’ve heard this all before.”

“Not just that! It’s also a deviant!”

“Which has absolutely no bearing on whether or not her information is valuable. Oh, and I suggest you work on your pronouns. She’s a ‘she,’ not an ‘it.’”

Aerin glared at him. “It doesn’t deserve to live, much less be granted citizenship!”

“I’ll repeat myself. She is a useful informant, and her deviancy doesn’t affect that in any way.” He sipped some brandy. “You’re even more angry than usual. You’re going through withdrawal, aren’t you?” He got up and walked to the cabinet, pulling out another wineglass. Aerin looked at it, then at Gavrisom, and raised his eyebrow. Instead of taking the glass, he seized the bottle off the desk and chugged down several mouthfuls. Gavrisom shrugged and replaced the glass. If his friend wanted to be put in the position of needing yet another cloned liver, well, it was none of his business.

The door hissed open again, and Malen strode in. The two officers grimaced, then quickly bowed. There had always been something subtly off about the Inquisitor, but now, it wasn’t even remotely subtle. He had never regained his normal complexion after his battle with Twilight Sparkle, and he looked like a cadaver entering the first stages of decomposition. Gavrisom suspected that the Emperor’s orders hadn’t helped. For Malen’s ill-defined “failure,” the Emperor had forbidden the use of bacta to treat the Inquisitor’s injuries. Without bacta, his finger couldn’t be reattached, his scars couldn’t be fully healed, and metal braces had to be implanted in him to ensure his bones grew back together properly. The Emperor had also decreed that the operations be performed without any anesthetics.

“Put me in contact with Chrysalis,” he ordered Gavrisom. The governor nodded and typed a code into the desk’s holocomm. It beeped for almost a minute before the image of the Changeling Queen appeared over it.

“Oh, what do you wa–” She cut off, choking, as Malen raised his hand in a fist.

Don’t keep us waiting,” he hissed. “Your infiltrators have proven useful in sowing discord, but you hold no power over us. Remember your place, creature, or be punished.”

He lowered his hand, and she collapsed, gasping for air. “Un… understood,” she rasped out.

He nodded once. “I have another target for you. A very… special… target. I’ll need your best infiltrator.”


Canterlot Caverns
1/12/4
3:24 P.M.

In the impromptu dungeon, the glow faded from around Princess Luna’s horn, and she let out a laugh of joy and relief. She flew up to the throne room, where Celestia was slogging through that day’s paperwork. “Sister!” she exclaimed, a broad smile on her face. “I’ve done it!”

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