Anthology of Everything

by SwordTune

Star Wars: The Pony Republic -- Chapter 2

Lightsaber combat was divided by Magi into five forms. Though, if she was being honest, Twilight could really only teach two of them with true mastery. There were many great masters of lightsaber combat, going back to the earliest days of the Magi Order, but during the purge of Magi that happened during the Empire’s rise to power, the number sabre masters in the galaxy could be tallied up in seconds.

“You’re swinging too high, Smolder.” The young dragon was a hotheaded novitiate and favoured one of the more aggressive forms of lightsaber combat. Twilight could teach the basics, but the only true master she knew of was Celestia. And she wasn’t feeling well enough to leave the inner hall of the Sanctuary.

The lesson of the day was the deflection of projectiles. Blasters were the most common weapon in the galaxy. Learning to deflect their fast-moving shots gave a Magi the skills to counter nearly any other projectile they might face.

The only problem was that Smolder’s preferred style, the Fast Aggression Form, barely developed on the basics established in the First Form. The young dragon winced as the training drone fired a stinging bolt into her leg. The shot couldn’t injure, but the jolt of energy didn’t feel good either.

“I don’t get it,” she grunted, “why do I have to stand here and keep deflecting? I thought the Fast Form was supposed to move around and avoid attacks.”

“You won’t always have that choice, Smolder,” Twilight told her. “If you’re caught in a small hallway, or you’re in a cave somewhere and you get fired on, you’ll have to be able to protect yourself until you can find a way out.”

Twilight ignited her own sabre, the crystalline white of the blade instantly brightening the solemn training halls of the Sanctuary. Smolder watched in awe as the training drone reacted, firing a bolt at Twilight’s chest. Slipping into a casual but confident stance from the Fast Form, she knocked back the bolts one by one until the fourth struck the bot back and deactivated it.

Smolder watched in awe. Like a lot of the new novitiates, she learned by action rather than study. Twilight would have preferred if they could dedicate their time to the old texts written by past Magi, but she could not change who they were.

“Do you know the origins of the Fast Aggression Form?” Still, that did not mean she couldn’t quiz their book knowledge. History had its practical applications, after all.

“Yeah, it was the first style of fighting developed by the Magi. Metal carvings within the ruins of ancient Magi Sanctuaries show early Fast Form stances way back before lightsabers were even invented.”

“And what was the form called, back then?”

“Uh…” Smolder hesitated, though only shortly. “The Way of the Fruit Bat. A swarm of fruit bats can clear a field of trees in minutes due to their number. Like them, a Magi must make their strikes as numerous as the fruit bats, robbing the enemy of opportunities to retaliate.”

Twilight nodded. “The Fast Aggression Form is old, and preceded blasters. Only the First Form is older. That’s why you have to adapt your offensive strikes to be defensive. When I use the Short Defensive Form, I keep the sabre close to my body, making it easy to cover every part. For you, try the ascending and descending cuts since they already cover the surface of your body with their wide arcs. Don’t think of it as defending, imagine yourself attacking each blaster bolt.”

“Okay, I think I can do that,” Smolder said. “Turn on the drone again. I’m ready.”

---

Gallus and Silverstream’s ship crashed out of their hyperlane, regions of space compressed by intense magical forces, making it easier to travel long stretches of the galaxy with ease. Though, with a ship that had been fired upon when trying to escape an imperial carrier, it didn’t really matter how easy hyperlane travel was. They weren’t going to make it back to the Sanctuary without repair.

Gallus brought them out the lane once they neared an inhabited planet. The green and blue hues were a good sign, though neither novitiates recognized the planet.

“I’ll send an emergency transmission to Twilight,” Gallus said, “and let her know where we are. Once we land we can wait for help from the Sanctuary.” He quickly spoke into a microphone, creating an audio log to send back to the Sanctuary. He left out no details about the acolytes, but spoke quickly. Their ship was already being pulled by the planet’s gravity.

“Do you really think you can make it to the surface?” Silverstream checked the ship’s diagnostic panel in the co-pilot seat. “The carrier’s turrets blew out our fuel tank, and the rest of the back portion of the ship.”

“There’s not a ship I can’t fly, Sliverstream, if we survive the re-entry that is.”

Silverstream sat back and watched the approach, their ship beginning to wobble as it met the resistance of the planet’s atmosphere. Then, the most unsettling notion came to her mind, a feeling of intuition even more pervasive than magic.

She turned and looked at Gallus. “What do you mean by ‘if’ we survive?”

There was no time to answer. Turbulence threw them around, tossing and jeering as damaged parts came flying off. Hippogriff and griffon, both their species were used to flying, but Silverstream had to admit this was intense even for her.

They were not only spinning but spiralling down to the surface, forming a wider and wider arc as they descended.

“Mind telling me what you’re doing?” Silverstream grunted, holding onto the co-pilot seat.

“I’ll tell you when I figure it out!” Gallus angled the ship with their functioning wing. Most ships weren’t optimized for air flight, relying mostly on thrusters and hover engines. Without fuel, however, they were as aerodynamic as a brick with paper wings.

Though uncomfortable, the trick seemed to work. Spiralling in the air put them on a longer path to the surface, giving them time to slow down and soften the landing. Well, as soft as falling from the sky in a chunk of metal could be.

The planet was thick with vegetation, humid and packed with dense jungles and tall trees. Hitting one felt like crashing into a building, and Gallus hit many of them. By the time they could stand on stable footing, they snapped clean through a stretch of the jungle and found their ship covered in tangled vines.

“I thought the computer said this planet was inhabited,” Silverstream groaned, leaning against the side of the ship.

“It is,” Gallus flicked the data console in front of him. The screen flickered, barely able to show the information on the planet. “It’s an outpost planet, one city. It’s not too far from here.”

Silverstream picked up her novitiate robes that had fallen on the ground and fastened it on. “You really trust that thing?” She pointed to the sparks and wires pushing smoke out from below.

“It’s the only thing we can go on,” he said, grabbing his sabre and robes. “C’mon, let’s head to the city and see if we can get a new ship. Twilight won’t be able to find if the console’s this damaged. Once we get on a ship we can tell her we’re safe and call off the pick-up.”

---

The Magi Sanctuary was built with three levels. The Receiving Level held three floors, which were the rooms for novitiates. Originally built so that senior novitiates would live on the lowest floor, close to the Learning Level, the halls were so empty now that it hardly mattered where a novitiate chose to sleep.

The Learning Level was just below, and though it was the same size as the Receiving, the ancient Magi had designed the level to be a single floor. Alongside the open training halls and meditation rooms, there were data shelves ten times higher than the tallest pony which held thousands of years of knowledge. At least, they used. When the Magi Order was destroyed by the Empire, nearly all the data crystals were shattered.

Twilight walked down the rows of empty shelves. While she was fighting the Empire to overthrow Dark Lord Grogar, it was her personal mission to recover enough crystals to once again fill a Sanctuary. She had uncovered troves of texts stored away by Magi, ancient and contemporary, who knew backups would one day be needed.

“Mentor Twilight?” One unmistakable voice echoed through the empty library.

“Yes, Ocellus?” Twilight turned to face the youngest and newest novitiate.

“If you had the time, I was wondering if you could help me understand something I read in one of the old data crystals.” Her voice was soft-spoken and a little timid, but underneath that exterior lied a brilliant mind.

Most of the other novitiates had only heard about the Magi through stories of old wars, if they ever heard of the Magi at all. Many of them wanted to take active roles in preserving Magi ideas, actively seeking out darkness in the galaxy.

But Ocellus was different. She joined because she found a damaged data crystal and brought it to the Sanctuary, seeking to uncover the data that had been lost.

Twilight smiled. “Of course, what’s on your mind?”

They walked over to a hologram console and Ocellus inserted the data crystal, displaying the passages in the air as an image.

“The passages talk about the Magi oath taken by novitiates. Other crystals say that the oath has never changed, but,” Ocellus moved the hologram around to show a scan of a stone tablet, “it’s all written in Old Ponish, but there’s an extra line that I don’t understand.”

Twilight took a closer look at the tablet:

Life is full of illusions. Illusions cloud our judgement. Judgement is needed for action. Action guides us to understanding. Understanding brings us together and gives us magic. Magic empowers peace. Peace cannot exist with life’s illusions.”

The final line of the tablet was where Twilight recognized the difference. Preserving the sanctity of life was one of the Magi Order’s principal tenants. But life, according to this tablet, clouded a Magi from finding peace.

It was a real predicament, and probably hotly debated to a great extent during the height of the Order. Twilight’s answer, however, was unexciting in its simplicity.

“The ancient Magi Order existed in a time with fewer galactic conflicts. As wars escalated, however, the Magi needed to participate in conflicts to swiftly bring an end to them. As a result, the Magi became more involved than their ancient predecessors.”

“Then, what did the ancients do?” Ocellus asked.

Twilight shrugged. “From what I have read, nothing. The earliest Magi might have gotten caught up in some fights, but they tried to distance themselves as far from others as possible. It wasn’t until the first Sanctuary was sacked did they start taking active roles in preserving peace.”

Ocellus frowned at the hologram of the tablet. “So, Magi are supposed to be agents of peace, but to do so, they had to give up the personal peace that the ancients had?”

“It’s not the best bargain,” Twilight said, “but it’s one that we’ve made. Meditate on that knowledge for now. I won’t tell you how to feel about it.”

“What about how you feel about it?”

Twilight hesitated. Of course, she had her own opinions on the matter, but she didn’t pay much attention to it. There was simply too much to do when the Magi and the Republic were just starting to recover.

“If I told you, there’s no guarantee your conclusion would be your own. Sometimes we need to ruminate on our own thoughts before we talk about them.”

“Of course,” Ocellus said, “I’ll try.”

---

The training hall was ablaze with lightsaber flashes. When Twilight did not reserve the space for special lessons, it was usually filled with novitiates training with each other or against drones. The most senior novitiates looked after the new students, ensuring lightsabers were throttled down to prevent harmful accidents.

On duty were Magi Knights Rarity and Fluttershy. They maintained the same brown robes as their novitiate comrades, except for a white crystal pin which held their robes firmly closed. Their lightsaber hilts were neat and polished. Upon becoming a full knight, a Magi could choose to refashion their sabres with new materials. It symbolized that they were still individuals even as they served an order larger than themselves.

Closest to them were the youngest novitiates, training in the First Form of lightsaber combat. There were four cuts and four blocks to the first form, but when perfected, it was a difficult defence to break. Further across the room, Smolder and the other more experienced novitiates trained against each other.

The Fast Aggression Form was the most visible. The young dragon jumping over and around her friends and overcoming their defences with an ever-increasing number of strikes was a difficult sight to ignore. However, equally impressive was that a young Yak novitiate was keeping up with her speed while using the Strong Form and its slower bladework.

Furthest from the supervisors were the most experienced novitiates, who were nearly Knights in their own right. They numbered nearly as many as the less experienced novitiates, but many were away on missions to help the Republic.

“How are they?” From the library, Twilight entered to observe the novitiates.

“They don’t have the grace of master fencers, but they have the spirit,” Rarity gave her assessment.

Fluttershy agreed. “I think they’re giving it their all, which is all we can ask of them right now.”

“Good, I fear they might need to use these skills,” she told them both in a hushed voice. Twilight subtly leaned toward them both so that the novitiates would not hear. “I just got a message from Gallus and Silverstream. They encountered two dark acolytes on their mission and barely escaped. Now they’re on the planet Dejangal trying to get off. I need you two to watch the Sanctuary while I get them.”

“You’re going?” Fluttershy’s whisper pitched up with worry. “But the novitiates need your guidance.”

“Two novitiates need me more,” Twilight replied. “I trust you two can give proper guidance while I’m gone. If there really are dark acolytes out there, you two will be the Sanctuary’s protectors.”

They nodded solemnly, aware of what she was asking of them. Acolytes of the Dark Lord were the single most brutal body of the Empire’s enforcement. They served many roles, but never bothered to hide their true allegiance. You did not need to offend the law to incur their wrath, only the Emperor.

For Silverstream and Gallus’s sake, Twilight could only hope they were not followed.

---

Dejangal City, being the only one on the entire planet, was as dense and packed as a city could be. Between the flashing lights of various cantinas and bars and the reckless shouting of drone and robot mechanics, Gallus and Silverstream stood out in their novitiate robes.

But while Silverstream was bumped and jostled through the main street, Gallus seemed to navigate the city’s spaceless roads. Such places were natural to him. Before Twilight brought him to the Magi Sanctuary, his home planet was populated by the Empire’s factories and spaceports. He had few memories from such a young age, but moving through a crowd was hardwired into his muscle memory.

Taking Silverstream by the talon he guided her to a mech court. Like a food court, creatures could go from store to store, browsing or buying all the parts they wanted before they worked on their own mechs. The court was at the bottom of a towering spaceport, which included all the essentials for creatures making a stop on long travels: cramped hospitals and pharmacies, food markets selling out of tiny shops, and even hotels, upcharged if you wanted a livable amount of space.

“This is… cosy,” Silverstream looked around.

“You have any cities like this on Aris?” Gallus asked as he spied around the mech court for anyone who sold ship parts. If they asked the right creature, they could get access to at least a used ship.

“We had cities, but not like this.”

Gallus pointed at an abyssinian mechanic, tinkering with an engine too large to fit on any hoverbike. “I bet he knows something. Come on.”

The smell from the mechanic’s shop was rank with cleaning fluid and oil. Silverstream choked on the air, even after pulling up her robes to cover her face. Gallus pulled down his hood and let Silverstream wait at a short distance behind him.

“Ah! Griffon! Welcome, welcome, how can Angora help a happy customer today, eh?” The Abyssinian waved his paws around, snatching up tools and equipment. “Are you interested in boosting your engine speed? Imperial hoverbikes had dampeners on their engines for “safety regulations,” but for a small fee I can remove those pesky restrictions for you.”

“No, that’s fine, Angora” Gallus smiled. “I just need directions. My friend and I are looking for a ship. We need something cheap but reliable. Comfort isn’t a priority.”

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry friend, but the best I can get you are ship parts. Uh, maybe you’re looking for a hyperlane conduit?”

“Maybe if I find a really cheap ship, we’ll need one.” Gallus put down a small, red-stained ceramic plate, stamped with the Republic’s mint. Ten credits.

“Well, maybe I could ask some of my friends, but they’re just so far away.” Angora stretched out his paw and tapped on the ceramic.

“Not a chance,” Gallus leaned in, “if I like your information, I might think about buying your parts, but not until I know where I can get a ship.”

“Bah, you griffons are no fun,” the cat spat and picked up the credit plate. “Fine. Most of the ships have been commandeered by the Republic’s governor, but there are a few smugglers who can get ships in the scrapyards up and running. I keep in touch with one guy in the southern scrapheap. But don’t think you can buy it off him. He’s a Diamond Dog, they like to stick with their ships. Some kind of ‘pack mentality’ or something.”

“Why’s the governor controlling the ships?” Gallus asked.

“Why else? He controls the ships, he controls the businesses. I don’t care about the names, Republic or Empire, everyone is out to make a profit.”

“So this smuggler, he’s the only one you know who can get us off this planet?”

“Only one who won’t charge the clothes off your back, haha!” The abyssinian laughed. “Do me favour. When you meet him, tell him Angora sent you. That way he knows who to think about when his ship needs repairs.”

Gallus nodded the abyssinian farewell and returned to Silverstream. She was supposed to be waiting behind him, but the young hippogriff was gone, arm wrestling a robot on the other side of the court.

He rushed over, surprised to find that she was actually winning. The bot was roughly in the shape of a dragon, though it was mostly a metal frame packed with wires. Still, its whirling motors were smoking from overuse, struggling to fight back Silverstream’s grip.

There was simply no way. Gallus watched the focus on her face and knew what she had done. And it was bad. Most folk thought of magic as cheating, especially in a game where bets could be tossed around.

“What are you doing?” he hissed, coming up behind her.

“Winning some credits,” she strained. Even speaking broke her concentration, and the bot regained a few inches before she could push its arm back down.

“I found out about a ship and a pilot, hurry up and let’s go.”

“Can’t. Bet too much on this.”

Gallus’s feathers perked up, showing his irritation. “Wha--how many credits did you bet?”

“All of them,” Silverstream admitted.

“I can’t believe…” he sighed, watching Silverstream struggle to finish the job. The bot was fighting its hardest. From its back, he spotted a power cord that ran to the bot’s mechanic. The oil-stained earth pony was fiddling with the battery, doing something to crank up the bot’s performance.

Well, that was technically cheating too, so Gallus thought it was only fair to even the playing field a little. Under his robes he flicked his talons, nudging Silverstream’s grip down until the robot was pinned.

Admitting defeat, the bot reeled back and lied down to relieve its overheated motors. One of the ponies in the audience grabbed the bag of credits from the bot’s mechanic and tossed it to Silverstream, who was enjoying herself a bit too much for Gallus’s liking.

“We should go, now,” he said, putting his hood back up and dragging Silverstream out of the mech court as she waved to her new fans. “The governor doesn’t sound any better than the Empire’s officials. I don’t want to get into any trouble here.”

Indeed, guards dressed in Republic colours had already begun to gather at the court, watching the spectacle for themselves. But the rowdy ponies and bots drew most of the attention. With their hoods up, the novitiates slipped easily away and headed for the scrapyards to find their new ship.