Chapter 3 - ... In Which Everyone Is Upset About Something
19 BBY, Conning Tower Base, Providence-Class Dreadnaught Dawn of Dusk, In Orbit Around Unknown Planet, Sector D-6 (See Galactic Map)
B1-54321 and B1-54322, who liked to be called ‘Cranker’ and ‘Spaller’ by the rest of the crew (although the maintenance crews just referred to them as ‘those idiots’), were currently occupied with their least favourite duty, which was supervising maintenance crew three.
The two battle droids, along with the assortment of astromechs and Treadwell droids, were stationed in one of the hallways just below the hull and the now-absent Communications Spire that had once adorned the top of the ship, and were repairing the damage and sealing off the section. Or rather, the maintenance crew was sealing off the section while Spaller argued with an R3 unit and Cranker leaned against a wall and watched.
“-and I’m telling you, there’s no point in arguing over it, we have our orders!” Spaller cried, jabbing the R3 unit with a metal finger to solidify his point.
The red astromech slapped the metal digit away with an extendable grappling claw before retorting with a series of beeps and whistles.
YOUR ORDERS ARE TO SUPERVISE US. NOT GET IN OUR WAY. YOU CAN SUPERVISE US JUST AS WELL FROM DOWN THE HALL. YOU DON’T NEED TO BE RIGHT HERE WITH US.
“How are we going to know if you’re doing your job properly if we’re not there to see you? You could blow us all up without knowing it!”
The red R3 unit dimmed its main photoreceptor to a dull amber, giving the impression of a flat stare.
STANDING DIRECTLY OVER US WHILE WE WORK WON’T DO YOU ANY BETTER. YOU STILL WON’T KNOW IF WERE DOING OUR JOB PROPERLY. YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ELECTRICAL OR STRUCTURAL ENGINEERING. NOW BUZZ OFF.
With that, the astromech turned and went back to its fellows, while giving a low fweep that sounded suspiciously like a snort of annoyance.
“That little-” Spaller started, but his limited vocabulary prevented him from coming up with a dignified insult and so, after a moment of searching, settled with, “ballhead”, on account of the astromech’s domed top.
“Boy, you sure showed him,” Cranker replied sarcastically, pushing himself off of the wall and wrapping an arm around Spaller. Spaller, thinking that Cranker was being genuine, straightened up and replied in as dignified a voice as he could manage.
“Well, we’ve got to show those little repair droids that we mean business.”
“Why do you do that to yourself?” Cranker asked as the two of them walked down the hallway, monitoring some of the other work crews.
“Do what?”
“That. You know, why do you always get into arguments with the maintenance crews? You always lose.”
“I do not always lose! We have to show them that we’re in charge and don’t stand for being questioned about orders.” Spaller shouted incredulously, “Besides, why don’t you ever join in?”
Cranker simply shrugged, “It amuses me enough just to watch you make a fool of yourself. I don’t need to add anything to that to make it funny.”
“Hey! I don’t-” Spaller was about to retort, but the sound of the Captain’s voice coming in over the ships’ PA system silenced him and all the droids in the corridor stopped what they were doing to listen.
“Attention all crew, this is the Captain speaking. As you all know, our ship was boarded several hours ago. The reason for this was that the Commander held information that the Empire was desperate to get their hands on. Despite reassurances that he was safe, he was afraid of being captured, and ordered bridge security to eliminate him to prevent the enemy from acquiring the Intel. As such, I, B1-04529-72624 am now assuming complete control of the Dawn of Dusk. Captain, out.”
Cranker and Spaller kept looking at the ceiling, as if they were expecting the Captain to come back on and say something else, or else for the Commander to announce that it was all some kind of joke.
But no such message came, and Cranker, Spaller, and every other droid on board that had been active to hear the announcement felt a momentary pang of simulated sadness for the death of the Muun Commander, but for most of the crew, it was instantly replaced by the realization that they’d soon be receiving new orders and new posts.
Upon realizing this, Cranker and Spaller high-fived (or rather, high-three’d, as battle droids only have three digits on each hand) and said in unison, “No more maintenance supervision duty!”
R3-D10, the astromech from maintenance crew three that Spaller had been arguing with, looked over at the two idiots as they ran down the corridor towards the general maintenance room in the bowels of the ship to receive their new posting.
The job for him and the rest of maintenance crew three hadn’t changed though: it had been the Captain that had ordered the base of the coming spire closed off and cleared of hazards.
As the two idiots rounded a corner and vanished from sight, R3-D10 gave a silent thanks that he could finally work in peace.
***
The droids of the ship weren’t the only ones to hear the Captain’s announcement.
Inside a very tight air duct, Rabid and Laugher had also heard the news of the Muun Commander’s death, as the portion of duct they had been crawling through was directly above a loudspeaker built into the ceiling of the corrido below, and had nearly scared them half to death when it had first crackled to life.
“Sir, if the Muun Commander’s dead, doesn’t that mean our orders are void and null? We can’t kill all the droids on the bridge before they kill us, and we can’t take the Commander hostage to use as a bargaining chip and capture the ship,” Laugher pointed out.
Rabid was silent for a moment as he revised their plans, and all Laugher could see were the slightly dirty soles of Rabid’s white boots as he shifted his feet every now and again. In the corridor below them, destroyer droids could be heard zipping by on patrol while the two clones scarcely dared breathe.
Suddenly the clone corporal’s voice crackled in Laugher’s ear over his helmet comm.
“You’re right about a couple things, but we’ve got to get to the bridge anyhow. We’ll do a quick recon of the bridge from inside the vents, then we’ll either take it if the security’s lenient enough, or if there’s too many of them, we’ll find our way back to the communications spire. Either way we have to get message back to the Lawmaker, and let the rest of the galaxy know there are still active battle droids out here… wherever ‘here’ is. These clankers might decide not to move since a droid’s in charge now, but they’ll still be a threat to anyone that stumbles upon them until they’re dealt with.”
“Eh… you know sir, there are times I really hate being a grunt,” Laugher replied, his reluctance to follow the new plan clearly evident in his voice.
“Well soldier, I don’t care if you like it or not,” Corporal Rabid replied as he started crawling forward through the duct once more, “But you either get used to it…”
“…Or you get dead,” Laugher finished his squad’s old motto with a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I know. I’m used to it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“Alright, less griping, more moving! I mean it, private, we’ve got a galaxy to save, and your whining ain’t gonna help us.”
Laugher sighed, “Yes, sir.”
The two crawled through the ducts for a while, pausing whenever they heard a droid patrol, and then crawled some more.
Eventually the two clones found themselves in a duct above the corridor outside the ship’s bridge, and Rabid was staring through the slots of a vent cover at the bridge’s closed doors. Laugher, as he had on their entire trek through the bowels of the Separatist dreadnaught, got to see only the soles of his corporal’s boots.
“Why’d you stop, sir? We there yet? My arms are on fire,” Laugher called over his comm.
“Well I’ve got bad news and more bad news. The bad news is the vent ends here. It doesn’t lead all the way to the bridge, which means we can’t see what the situation is like in there.
“And the other bad news?” Laugher asked.
“The other bad news is that the bridge doors are closed, and I haven’t seen any droids enter or leave in the few minutes we’ve been here. Once again, that means we’ve got no idea what could be waiting for us on the other side of those doors.
“Oh,” Laugher replied simply. The prospect of having to face an unknown number of battle droids didn’t scare him much, they’d done so on multiple occasions before, but that, coupled with no viable plan of escape caused what was left of his courage to shrink faster than the Jedi population during Order 66.
“So, uh… what should we do?” he asked quietly.
Rabid mulled over their options before deciding.
“Well kid, looks like there’s only one thing for it.”
***
In the half hour since 72624 had made his announcement to the crew, the bridge had been bombarded by calls from terminals and built-in commlinks about the legitimacy of the Muun Commander’s death and what the sensitive intel he had been privy to was (which the Captain had entirely made up, if only to make his retelling of the story more believable), as well as questions regarding the chain of command and new orders.
Tha Captain and the bridge crew had at first been very panicked with all the overwhelming number of questions; 72624 never realized just how independent and inspired by the Commander the droids of their ship were, most droid crews wouldn’t care about a change in command structure, but these ones seemed genuinely concerned about what had happened and wanted to be kept in the loop.
At first it had been very tiring, doing nothing but answering calls and not being able to listen to important reports from the bridge crew and other areas of the ship, and even do the jobs that the Captain had outlined for them after they had arrived in-system, but it eventually became a manageable and even boring affair for the bridge crew, so it came as a complete surprise when the bridge doors opened and two figures that clearly weren’t battle droids walked in.
The Captain stared at the newcomers for a few seconds before asking dumbly, “What are you doing here?”
“Where is he?! Where is he?! Where is my master?!!”
The normally soft, cool, female voice of the protocol droid that rushed onto the bridge was at its highest volume, and the thing was clearly distraught, evident from the number of punctuation marks that accompanied its cries.
Before either the bridge crew, or bridge security could do anything, the silver protocol droid had grabbed a hold of the Captain in its flimsy grip and was shaking him repeatedly while asking where her master was.
“Let go of me! Have your circuits fried? Let go of me!” 72624 shouted over the indignant cries of the protocol droid. Having no luck giving a direct order, he turned to the bridge crew and called out, “Someone get this talking thesaurus off of me!”
As two Commando droids grabbed the protocol droid by its arms and hoisted her off the Captain, he righted himself (she had nearly toppled him in her fit of grief), and tried to calm the female droid down.
“TL-90, stop squirming. Your master is dead.”
He was not doing a very good job of it.
“You killed him! You killed my master! How could you? My master was always a kind and caring soul, and I served him well. Now what will I do? I have no master and it’s all your fault!” TL-90 cried at him, struggling feebly to escape the Commandos’ grip, but she was made for carrying nothing heavier than a cocktail tray, whereas the guards holding her were designed to be able to overpower clone troopers in hand-to-hand if necessary.
“TL-90, you heard the announcement, your master told us to kill him so that he wouldn’t be captured by the Imperial forces that stormed the ship a few hours ago,” the Captain said, holding up his arms in an attempt to calm the malfunctioning protocol droid down.
“He would never do such a thing! He valued his life far too much, and you know it! You killed him, and I want to know the truth!”
72624 knew that the late Muun Commander had cared for his own skin and little else, except of course for his protocol droid, TL-90, and all the rest of the crew knew it as well. However, he also knew that TL-90 was loyal to her master to a fault, and she was very good at sniffing out lies. Getting his old air of superiority back, he puffed out his chest (figuratively speaking of course, as he couldn’t actually do so, what with him not having lungs and all) and stopped any bit of tension and apprehension from showing in his voice as he addressed the female droid.
“TL-90, what I am telling you is the truth, and as the commanding officer on this ship, I am ordering you to report to maintenance for a reassessment of your condition and a refit as the maintenance crews see fit. Do you understand?”
“I-, but-, you-, you can’t-, you killed my master! I can’t allow you to get away with that!” the protocol droid spluttered, but was brought up short by one of the Commando droids manually powering her off.
“Thank you,” the Captain said, rubbing his cranial assembly as he relished the relief from the manic droid’s wails.
“You two,” he said, motioning to the two droids that held the now-limp servant droid between them, “Take her down to maintenance and make sure she gets checked over. And for heaven’s sakes, don’t power her on again before then. Uh… actually it’d be better if she didn’t repeat this again. Tell the head of maintenance to wipe her memory, then you can power her on again, and then send her back to the late Commander’s personal quarters. Do you understand?”
“Roger, roger,” the two black Commandos replied, their vocoders giving them incredibly deep voices.
The Captain sighed, “Holy moly, ok, let’s all agree to never have that happen again, okay? I think I fried some circuits when she startled me.”
As the two departed the bridge with their charge, and the Captain was jealously wondering why he couldn’t have a vocoder more like a Commando droid, instead of the one he currently possessed that made him sound flimsier and weaker than he was (though not by much), the second figure that had walked in finally got noticed by one of the bridge crew.
“Hey, Saw, what are you doing up here? Shouldn’t you be in medical?” 29554 asked the other newcomer.
‘Saw’, as he was known on the ship, was one of the ship’s two medical droids, a 2-1B surgical droid to be exact. The only reason the ship even had a medical suite, unlike most Separatist ships, was because of the sole living member of the crew (well, he had been alive a few hours ago) had demanded that there be medical staff on board at all times in case he ever got injured. To the surprise of some, his request had been granted, but of course, and unfortunately for him, the medical staff he had been given consisted only of two medical droids.
As the query reached his audio receptors, Saw turned his head to give a long, white, blank look at 29554 before answering.
“I was conversing with TL-90 in the late Commander’s personal quarters before the Captain made his announcement, and in her state of shock and disbelief, she dragged me along with her up here. However, I might as well stay for a bit, I’ve never gotten to see out the bridge windows. It’s much more expansive than any of the small viewports in the corridors.”
The Captain wanted to bang his head on the nearest bulkhead. Had half the crew lost their minds today?
“Saw, get back to medical, you’re not allowed up here. If you want a good view of space, go look out the hangar doors, but you can’t be on the bridge, you’re interfering with the bridge crew’s duties.”
As the medical droid gave another long stare and a slightly resigned, “fine,” before departing, the Captain turned to 44498, and asked him if he had gotten any more information about the planet they were orbiting.
“Well, sir, as I said, there’s a lot of life and some primitive civilizations down there, but from what the sensors can spot, the planet might not operate under one planetary government. The high-resolution cams seem to be picking up what appear to be radically different designs in building construction all over the planet. We can’t see anything too close, but it’ obvious there are multiple cultures down there. The planet’s inhabitants may still have a society that revolves around them operating under several different countries.”
If 72624 had a face, he would have slapped his hand onto it at that moment as he sighed. Things just get better and better. Even so, he slapped his hand across what passed for a face for battle droids and said, “Well, that… really makes things more complicated. So you’re saying if we’re going to try to convert this planet to aid our cause we’ll have to get every country to say yes? We don’t have enough troops to control the whole planet if they decide not to, and I’d rather not try orbital bombardment; we still want to use the land once we have access to it.”
“Sir, that’s just what the information suggests. It could be that the native species of this planet are unified under one planetary government, they just keep their cultural differences,” 44498 said, trying to relieve his Captain’s tension.
Unfortunately, the Captain didn’t fully understand what his subordinate meant by that, as he thought cultural differences were a pretty big reason that organics would want to divide into separate groups.
Taking a few minutes to think everything over, he finally came to a conclusion as he sat down in the Captain’s chair and looked out towards the planet. The part of land they were currently cruising over had just had the first rays of light from the system’s star race over it and the faint light illuminated a new morning for the native beings below
“44498, I want you to send down some probes to the surface. Just start with the continent we’re currently orbiting over. Send some probes down, have them get into some of the towns and cities down there so we can get a good look at what we’re going to have to deal with, and make sure they’re sending back constant audio and visual recordings. I want to be able to see the feed on the bridge consoles and my personal datapad.”
“Yes, sir,” the droid Lieutenant replied, turning back to his own console and punching in commands, “How many should we send?”
“How many do we have?” the Captain asked.
“We have a hundred and thirteen landing pods in storage, but only twenty-seven probes.”
“Good, that’s more than enough. Send six. Pick cities and towns that are in different corners of the continent. I want to know why the inhabitants of this planet are so different from each other.”
“Roger, roger!” 44498 replied as he began sending orders to the select probe droids to power up, and ready themselves for their departure.
Turning to a pilot droid at one of the two communications consoles on the bridge, the Captain said, “Change of plans for the protocol droid. Tell the two Commandos escorting TL-90 to maintenance that once she’s been checked over and had her mind wiped, to bring her back to the bridge. We’re going to need her translator once we get some footage of the locals.”
Settling back into the Captain’s chair, 72624 felt quite pleased with himself. Being a competent commander wasn’t so hard, he was issuing orders that were easy enough to understand, wasn’t he? And best of all, no one was getting shot or disintegrated as a result. 72624 decided that he made a very good commander and was quite enjoying being in full control of the dreadnaught.
Yes, he was in control, and while he was still dumb as a brick when it came to most things, he at least knew what needed doing when it came to battles and staying organised.
The Captain called out to the communications officer he had addressed a moment before.
“And get me TV-44! I want that Tactical droid up here by the time the first footage from the probe droids starts rolling in.”
***
The gentle chime of a wind-bell, coupled with the first rays of morning peeking in through the large open windows of the room were enough to rouse the room’s single sleeping occupant from a wonderful dream about cake.
Pale magenta eyes opened slowly to be greeted by the new dawn, and the soft, white-coated mare to which they belonged sat up in her luxurious bed.
For a short while, the lone occupant of the bedroom sat there, simply content with listening to the sounds of chirping and wind-bells coming in through the windows, and the spectacular view of the sunrise as the sun slowly crawled up from behind a low mountain range on the horizon.
The sunrise, the mare thought to herself, it’s always so beautiful. Always bringing in new surprises.
The white mare was about to get out of bed and change out of her pyjamas when one of those surprises came barging into her bedroom.
“Sister! What are you still doing in bed at this hour? The sun has already risen, Tia! Weren’t you awake to do it this time?”
Her sister, a slightly shorter dark blue mare outfitted in a simple, yet still regal-looking black outfit, stared at her from the doorway to the large bedroom. Several other ponies in guard uniforms and servant clothes could be seen going about their business in the hall behind her, before the younger sister closed the doors once again, and silence reigned in the bedroom.
The white mare looked over at her much darker blue sister with a serene smile upon her face.
“Lulu, you know I learned how to power the sun’s path in my sleep millennia ago, just like you mastered the same with the moon.
The dark blue mare, Princess Luna, gave her sister a look that said, Really? This again?
“Nevertheless, the day has started without you, and you’re already running late. Our nephew, Blueblood, wants to speak with you and the ambassadors from Minos will be here in just a few hours. There is much to do.”
“Oh no, not Blueblood again,” Princess Celestia groaned as she collapsed back into her pillows, “what does he want this time?”
Princess Luna snorted, “Something about the weather ponies disturbing him while he wanted to play golf or something like that.”
Celestia opened one eye to look at her sister, “Something like that?”
“Oh you know how tiring it is just to be around him,” Luna sighed, rolling her eyes, “I wasn’t paying much attention by the time he finished complaining about how early he had to come just to get an audience with you.”
“Luna,” Celestia giggled, “you shouldn’t talk about Blueblood that way. He’s still our nephew… even if he is an insufferable nitwit,” she added quickly.
Both sisters exchanged a look before bursting into a fit of giggles.
“Very well, I’ll be out in a minute, Lulu, and then I’ll listen to whatever ridiculous request Blueblood has come up with this time,” Celestia said, once again rising from her bed and moving to her wardrobe, “but don’t expect me to actually do anything about it. Don’t forget about last time, when he demanded the restaurants in town all cater to him, free of charge, just for being related to us.”
“How could I forget? When you said no, his crying and screaming could be heard across the city. Ponies kept asking if we were torturing prisoners.”
“I’m just glad he took that vacation recently and spared us from having to see him for a little bit. Now that he’s back again though, we’ll have to hear his high-nosed snootiness again.”
“No, dear sister,” Princess Luna said as she opened the door once more to leave, letting in the quiet clamor of the other lives in the castle, “you have to listen to him. I get to sleep until the Minotaur delegation gets here, so that I don’t fall asleep in the middle of the talks.”
As the blue alicorn mare left her sister, Celestia took a few minutes to stretch, pulling her arms up and back as far as they would go, and extending her large wings to their full width, and then completed several other easy poses. It wasn’t much, she liked the feel of truly flying to warm her muscles up, but she felt lighter and more limber all the same.
Dressing without the use of any aides actually made the whole process much easier and quicker, and Princess Celestia emerged from her room just a few minutes later wearing a light blue dress with an open back, along with her signature golden horseshoes and crown.
Immediately, an aide was already waiting for her outside the door, a notebook and several papers clutched to his chest.
“Good morning, Time Stamp, how did you sleep?” the princess asked the dark grey Pegasus as he fell into step beside her.
“Like a foal, your highness. Please thank Princess Luna for me, for such a peaceful night,” Time Stamp replied with a bow.
“I think we all deserved a good rest after these last few days,” Princess Celestia said as she pushed open the side door to the chamber where she attended to ponies seeking audience with her, “it has been incredibly frustrating getting the Minos delegation to come after what happened in the Crystal Empire with Shining Armor. Thank you, by the way, for working overtime these last few nights with the paperwork. I know you haven’t been getting to see your family much because of it.”
“Not at all, Princess, not at all. They understand the difficult political climate we’ve been having recently. We’ll all just be glad once it’s over, is all.”
“I quite agree. Now, let’s see what Blueblood wants. Let’s get this over with quickly and move onto real business.”
Motioning to the guards by the door, the two golden-clad sentries opened the main doors to the chamber and a very well-groomed Prince Blueblood strode in, head held high like he owned the place.
“Thank you, auntie, for seeing me on such short notice. As we’re both incredibly important and busy ponies, I’d just like to say that I value this time very much and I understand you…” Blueblood rambled on and Celestia fought the urge to groan until he finished and finally got around to why he had come in the first place, which did indeed turned out to be his annoyance over the fact that the weather ponies had interrupted his round of golf yesterday by causing rain over all of Canterlot, instead of keeping the sky over the golf course clear while he was there.
I hate Mondays, the princess thought to herself, suppressing an inward sigh. She would spend most of her morning listening to similar complaints and requests by much of the city’s nobility. The only good thing about the whole ordeal was that at least she would have the company of Time Stamp throughout it all, as he dutifully recorded all of the goings-on and kept her up-to-date and on schedule.
***
At half-past six, many hours after she had finished giving audience to those ponies who had brought their worries that were great enough to worry the princess with, Princess Celestia was standing on the parapet of the palace with Princess Luna, Time Stamp, and a rather large contingent of royal guards.
While Celestia was still wearing her blue dress, her sister had opted for her full military uniform, complete with rapier and scabbard. When asked about this, Luna had replied it was so that the Minotaur delegation understood exactly what they were dealing with, and that they weren’t going to be taken lightly. Ponies or not, the princesses had to make sure the Minotaurs understood the severity of the situation that had come about from the incident in the Crystal Empire a week prior.
The two were looking down upon the main courtyard, where the Minotaur airship was just landing down into it. A great, dirty red beast of metal and steam, it screeched and belched black smoke as it settled down onto massive landing pads that descended from its spiky underbelly. Twice the length of a house, the massive machine made a tremendous groaning sound as it finally came to a halt, after sinking so low on its landing gear that Princess Celestia thought it would surely come to rest on its hull.
There was no stepladder, no stairs brought to the side of the mighty airship; only a single, long gangplank extended itself from the top deck of the airship and quickly and quietly became a walkway between the high top deck to the courtyard and gardens below.
Princess Celestia and Princess Luna had by this point moved down to the main level of the courtyard with their guard, where they strode out to meet the large, bulky figures descending down the steep awkward walkway with seemingly no difficulty.
Celestia easily spotted their most prominent figure at the forefront of the group; General Kratos was definitely a hard person to miss. Standing taller than Celestia herself, and wearing a long black jacket, one side of which was overflowing with medals and stripes, his bulging muscles made the rest of his clothes look like they were fit to burst.
Behind him walked a shorter, slimmer, female Minotaur, wearing black pants, a tan shirt, and what appeared to be a radio headset, and was scribbling down notes about something on a clipboard she held in front of her, barely paying attention to anything besides the incredibly old, hunched over, white-with-age Minotaur elder beside her as he whispered nonstop to her under his breath. Several other Minotaurs accompanied them, including two heavily armored guards with large crossbows, and one of what appeared to be, to the casual observer, a fitness instructor or special speaker.
“Well, Tia, you’d better pay up, I won,” Luna whispered to her sister out of the corner of her mouth as the two parties approached each other.
“You know, I don’t know why I ever bother to bet that they’ll be on time,” Celestia whispered back, “this is the, what? Seventh time they’ve visited? And the seventh time they’ve been late.”
“My dear sister, perhaps one day you’ll learn that some creatures never change. And you still owe me two bits. Are you going to pay up now or are we going to have a repeat of last time?”
“You’ll get your bits, but right now you and I have considerably more important matters to attend to,” Celestia said, and right at that moment the two groups converged.
“General Kratos,” Celestia began, giving a short nod and a bow to the larger figure in front of her, “I am glad you could join us for these talks. I hope that with our people working together we can avoid further incidents in the future.”
“Princess Celestia, I’m pleased you think my presence means so much, but it’s really nothing more than a formality, and to make sure we come back with the Minotaur prisoner you captured. For the politics involved in the process, Elder Morgath will deal with everything and smooth it over.” General Kratos said gruffly, his voice never changing volume, but nonetheless seeming to project a roar like that of a waterfall.
“Either way, we’re honored that you could be here to help us untangle this delicate matter, you never fail to impress when it comes to getting diplomatic talks moving.” Celestia said with a small smile, as the two fell into step with each other and headed the procession off towards the main gates of the castle.
“Hahaha! Well, Princess, your manners are as delightful as ever. I don’t think you’ve had the pleasure yet, so let me introduce you to Elder Morgath,” Kratos laughed, a loud, booming sound, and let his tough façade melt into the friendlier creature Celestia was more familiar with. He motioned to the old, white Minotaur walking slowly and regally beside him, “as soon as he heard about a diplomatic mission to Equestria, he practically jumped at the prospect of joining. I think he’s heard too many rumors about your pony’s kindness, I haven’t seen him this excited since it was elder appreciation day!”
“You know, for creatures so excited to visit Equestria, you seem to have arrived awfully late again,” Princess Luna said smoothly, “were you having engine troubles again?”
Kratos’ face darkened slightly and his voice suddenly had a sharper edge to it.
“I know what you think of us, Princess, but this time we left with plenty of time to spare in case just such an emergency came about. Our airships are hardly faultless, as you no doubt know, but this time it was through no fault of our own that we were forced to be tardy.”
Princess Luna did not look convinced.
“We left Minos very early in case we did run into some mechanical trouble, and were well on our way to arriving early, when something even I can’t explain happened. We had just passed over Manehattan when we were hit by a shooting star. A meteor plunged straight down through the top deck, going straight through every deck on the ship, and continued on out the bottom. It passed through the ammunition storage and practically blew us in half. We’re lucky it didn’t puncture the balloon, or we would’ve all fallen to our deaths right then and there.”
“If such a catastrophe happened, how did you survive?” Luna inquired expectantly, somewhat more attentive to the story than before.
“Well, the ammunition for our onboard defenses would have blown up, and taken the rest of the ship with it, if the meteor had gone through us anywhere other than where it did. A two-foot hole was right in the middle of the room when we checked, whereas all the ammunition had been piled up against the walls. Even so, it went within a hairsbreadth of hitting something vital and sending us all to an early grave. It’s the kind of miraculous escape I’d only ever heard about happening in your kingdom before. Perhaps some kindly spirit decided to save us from our fate.”
“Well, that sounds like quite the adventure, General Kratos.” Princess Celestia said, trying to steer the conversation back to a lighter tone, “I’m sure you and the rest of the delegation, as well as your airship crew wouldn’t mind some refreshments and some time to relax after such a stressful encounter.”
“I wouldn’t mind in the least,” the ancient Minotaur, Morgath, croaked, saying something that the two alicorn sisters could hear for the first time since he had arrived, “I’ve heard that Equestrian pastries are second to none, and would quite like to try one.”
“Very well,” Celestia acquiesced with a smirk, “I’ll notify the chefs.”
As the procession move into the castle, and into a large dining hall, complete with a long, gold-decorated table and dozens of fancy chairs, Princess Luna sidled up to General Kratos, a determined look on her face.
“General, you said you were passing over Manehattan when the incident on your airship happened? Do you happen to remember where the meteor went after it passed through your ship?”
A thoughtful look passed over the General’s face for a moment before he answered.
“Well, it happened extremely quickly, so there wasn’t much time to really see much of anything, and it was going almost straight down when it hit us… but based off the slight angle made by the holes in each deck of the airship, I’d say it fell slightly north of the bridge connecting Manehattan to your mainland. Probably impacted on solid ground, we were high enough up for it. Why, were you thinking of going to investigate?” Kratos asked with a suspiciously sly grin.
Not giving anything away, Princess Luna gave a small smile and replied, walking away, “You never know what might come up. These kinds of talks always get interrupted by one thing or another.”
On the other side of the large room, two ornate doors opened up, admitting several server ponies, each carrying a silver platter of delectable.
While both Celestia and Morgath gravitated towards a beautiful strawberry cake as it was set down in the middle of the dining table, a pink swirl of dust caught the solar diarch’s attention as it quickly materialized into a neat scroll that deposited itself at her hooves.
Wondering what her old student could be writing about, Celestia picked up the letter with her magic and undid the seal while Elder Morgath, his scruffy white beard already half stuffed with strawberry jelly, looked over and asked, “If I may inquire, Princess, what is that you’ve got there? Unexpected mail?”
“Oh, just a letter from a good friend of mine…” Celestia began, before trailing off as she read the contents of the letter. By the time she was finished, her eyes had involuntarily widened from shock and her blood had frozen in her veins.
“Luna…”
At the urgency in her sister’s voice, the Lunar princess was at Celestia’s side instantly, searching her sister’s face for some kind of answer only to reel back in surprise at what she saw there. Celestia almost never allowed something to visibly shock her, especially not in front of others. Whatever she had read in Twilight’s letter was enough to shake her to the core.
“What is it sister? What’s happened?”
And so, in nine simple words, Celestia told her.
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8005599
Of course! You didn't think I gave up on it, did you?
We need more clankers!
8005706 I surly hope not!
Otherwise, I would have just stolen your work and clam it as my own.
8005720
Lol, no, not gonna happen
Nice work. The commander is a b1 right? Then, isn't the tactical droid a higher ranked officer due his better Al? I like how you tried to make the droids curse and such. For some reason, i can't get the thought out of my head that the droids would defend equestria from the empire.
8005738
Yes, the Captain is a B1 battle droid. Normally the Tactical droid would be ranked higher but (almost a spoiler) the Tactical droid is supposed to be in charge of the ground forces on the ship. He'll show up in the next chapter, and it'll all be explained (hopefully) hilariously then, don't worry.
8005756 Roger Roger. Look forward it
... Too soon man, too soon...
8006257
I thought a bit of dark humor might get along well with the story, especially considering the bleak outlook of the clones situation at this point.
Remember, they still don't know where they are or how to contact their ship. It'll be a bit of a surprise to them when they find out the Communications Spire is no more as well.
8006427
Wuh-oh. Getting close to FUBAR levels of trouble.
Damn cliffhanger great story so far can't wait for more
8006802
Good, I would hate to have this magnificence stolen from me. I can track you through 43 dimensions if you happen to be getting any ideas.
8006817
Weeeeeeell... not exactly. They're still pretty screwed, but I think I'll have some more fun with them before I decide on anything concrete. Being a god with characters is fun.
8006896
Thank you! I'm very glad you think it's worth your time! Also, I'm really in the mood for writing right now and the story's finally getting somewhere so my next couple chapters should be coming out within a couple weeks of each other. (Unfortunately, that's as fast as I can write them, I don't get much time to type them up and my editor take a few days to look over it and get back to me)
8007621 Good thing I live on the 56th then.
when a patrol finds the probe droid.
68.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lhqbr7edFQ1qfppwjo1_500.jpg
Well, either the scrap metal merchants will never run outta business in the near future or everything is going to hell in a flaming handbasket.
Propably both.
8008708
Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho. I really, really, want to spoil it, but the probe droids are going to be part of the focus next chapter, so there's not much point. But at least one won't be found by a patrol.
Won't be found by a patrol.
8009227
Ah, that's the beauty of it being a comedy. Whatever happens will be riddikulus, no matter where the story turns.
Oh god...is that a reference to the Revenge of the Sith novelization? Man, is that a good book!
8010474
I'm glad someone else knows about it! I originally wanted to make a reference to that point, but less obvious, but when I figured out what Celestia says, it turns out that it's... nine words. Strange coincidence, huh? It is big news, but in this fic, it's a little less moumental (well, maybe not, depending on your point of view) than the part in the novel. Speaking of which, I'm actually trying very hard to recreate some of Matthew Stover's style of writing, so let me know if it starts sounding too cut-and-pasted!
Hey there! I'm pretty glad I finally got around to checking out the competition.
This was really quite good, (though I wish there were more of it, Tekket be a bro and get on that yeah?) I have to say I think you have me beat in terms of sheer scale, (for now!)
I really like the B1 captain and actually found myself worried about him, if he was going to be offed by the clones or something. The anthro aspect of things is kinda throwing me off as I have avoided such stories in the past though I could probably get used to it.
Overall a quality read so far, keep up the good work.
8186709
Oh, why thank you! You're very kind. I answered this question before, but the main reason I went with the choice to make the ponies anthro was to make things easier if I decide to make this a very long story, or if I made sequels, as this would most likely mean that the ponies would be operating machinery (i.e. starfighters, speeders, blasters, etc) . Since they now have hands, it won't be only the unicorn master race that can use those things in the future (if I really decide to go along with that).
Also, don't worry. I've been writing up a storm and will submit the next chapter to my editor soon, and hopefully it'll be ready to post in a few days.
Hold the phone... so they do have a Tactical Droid on board?
Now i have to wonder, why in the heck was that Tactical Droid not already on the bridge? OOM series droids are only marginally smarter than their B-1 siblings, where as T-Series droids where explicitly designed and built to function as tactical advisors, and commanding officers; their portly looking design, came from them being built like walking super computers.
I don't know of any sassier R-Series droid in the entire canon. Problem is, I do not fluently speak droid binary. Oh wel!.
Ooohohohooooohhohhoohhhhhh I just LOOOOOOVE this model of B1 series battle droids!
Uhhhhh... At least he wasn't captured?
Like I said. Guess he didn't think his order through.
A Kratos and not a single "Zeus!" Or "BOI!"? Blasphemy!
9322113
If you're willing to believe it, I've never actually played a God of War game before, so I didn't realize Kratos was the name of a god until the new God of War actually came out and all the memes started circulating.
The more you know
The link at the top is broken - I think you may need a space after the bracket? Or you can use a full url tag instead of just square brackets?
i know its late now, but the captain b1 is actually doing a decent job considering everything that is transpiring
Ready the Mouse droids for Equestria needs to be cleansed
👍