> Harmony of the Force
>  by Autocharth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue 1 - The Jedi of Equus
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

Striding through her teacher’s modest home, Twilight marvelled at the simple beauty. Coming here was always a pleasure, even after years learning from its owner. She stopped to gaze at the vista before her. Its slightly elevated second level provided a view of the settlement. The home she had known her entire life.
 
Brushing of her dark hair out of her eyes, Twilight turned and continued on. Her fringe settled around her primary horn, nearly hiding the two far smaller horns flanking it. Along with the lines that seemed almost engraved into her face, connecting to form a six pointed star, the horns made no secret of her species. Twilight knew Zabrak were common, though she knew few herself.

‘I wonder if Master Celestia knows which subspecies I am...but if she does, she won’t tell me,’ Twilight thought, not for the first time shaking her head at her teacher’s inscrutable ways. She had spent as much time with the leader of their little town of Canterlot, just one of only a few settlements on Equuis, as she had with her brother, yet she still knew so little.
 
Stepping into the next room, close to the heart of the carved everwood pine her master lived in, Twilight breathed in deeply. The scent of ink on paper filled the chamber, the walls lined with books. A datapad might hold terabytes of information but they lacked the feeling, the impression of a real book. Defunct a format it might be in the core but on their little world, too small to attract the attention of the galaxy and only able to sustain a single large settlement or two it was, to Twilight, it was the smell of learning and knowledge.
 
Her teacher sat in the middle of the room with her back to Twilight. Long hair with three colours perfectly divided hung nearly to her waist, gossamer strands glittering in the light.
 
“Master?” Twilight knew better than to fidget but in her Master’s silence the urge was hard to resist. She stared at the Jedi’s back, shrouded by Celestia’s waves multi-hued hair, and without thinking she chewed at her bottom lip nervously.

“You’ll hurt your lip,” Celestia’s voice was gently chiding and brought a blush to Twilight’s face.

Shame coloured her words as she hung her head. “Sorry, Master.”
 
Familiar, gentle fingers with perfectly soft skin cupped her chin. Celestia tilted her student’s face back up to her and smiled. “I told you, you don’t have to call me that. I am Jedi no longer and have not been one since before your birth. I am simply a teacher now,” she said quietly.
 
Twilight frowned slightly. “A teacher who taught my brother and I how to move objects with our minds,” she pointed out.
 
Releasing the young zabrak’s chin Celestia smiled ruefully as she turned away to pace the room. Twilight liked her clean definitions, to know that something was exactly in one category. Logic was imperative. She was defined by clean, logical reasoning and a need to have an explanation. Clear thinking and reason were both things high in Celestia’s view and she wished more of the galaxy shared Twilight’s way of thinking. But in matters of the Force logic and reason so often failed to fully convey its meaning. Emotions were vital and to feel your heart was to feel the truth of the Force. Just as the Dark Side was fuelled by rage and hate, so too was the Light empowered by love and compassion. Only by trusting your emotions and your heart could one so gifted wield the power of the Force.
 
No, she was certainly no Jedi. They had come to shun emotion, seeking clarity without feeling, to be without the passion they believed led to the Dark Side. Each generation of Jedi would have just continued down that path, tipping from their balance of compassion without passion into closed, empty vessels. The path of the Jedi was one without love and Celestia believed with all her being that love, true and deep for friends, family and life, was the true gift of the Force.
 
Pulling her thoughts from the shattered past, Celestia answered her student’s remark. “Only so you could avoid detection by the Emperor and to warn you of the Dark Side’s power.” She said, stepping past Twilight.
 
“You’ve trained Shining to fight off a dozen droids without breaking a sweat.” Twilight turned to watch her teacher. They had been through this discussion dozens of times and knew how it ended. That didn’t stop her from trying again. There was such a wealth of knowledge waiting for her, if only the former Jedi would teach her more.
 
Celestia grimaced, hiding her expression until it was gone. “Your brother merely learns mundane weapons from me and any abilities he has come to learn are of his own initiative.” She replied. “He is not asking for the Force lore of the Jedi Order.”
 
That got a wince from Twilight. “You’ve told me so little.” She said, trying her best not to sound like she was whining. “What I know is so intriguing.”
 
There was Twilight’s other weakness. It was not quite that simple, Celestia knew. She possessed a healthy taste for learning herself but Twilight seemed to hunger for more. Twilight had to learn, had to find out more about everything. She devoured information like a starving bantha. Every book had to be read, every data-slide had to be picked clean. More than once Celestia had awoken from dreams, nightmares, of Twilight ignoring her as she shouted warnings. Dream-Twilight always reached for a pyramidal holocron, its innards lit by a sinister red glow that highlighted the zabrak’s hungry expression.
 
“What little you know...” She echoed, passing through the room. Glancing out a window Celestia’s gaze took in the modest rise of the Governor’s Building. Too simple to be a palace but too large and multi-purpose to be a mere house, it rose above the plane of the roof tops and tree tops scattered across the modest settlement. Crafted from native everwood conditioned to duracrete-like strength, it was a simple beauty to behold.
 
And with a single blink it was burning.
 
Streaks of fire rained from the sky. Turbo-lasers unleashed annihilation from above, falling upon the settlement in a screaming fury. Each blast chewed away at everwood walls and left nothing but ash. Flame billowed out from collapsing building as lives vanished in the deadly storm of energies and fire. Peace was shattered and screams rent the air as white armoured figures marched the streets already reduced to rubble, advancing behind the curtain of destruction. Survivors died with a single shot, slumping against the ruined homes that were now little more than charred mass graves. With a great groan the Governor’s Building collapsed and a wave of destruction covered the city, washing over her, the flood of fiery orange all she saw.
 
A dark laugh seared her ears and soul, deadly in its familiarity and from the sea of swirling flames two figures strode with blades of hateful light. One loomed great and commanding, the other pulled in the wake of the first by chains forged of shadows and pain. A living Nightmare.
 
A spear of fire erupted from behind the chained figures to pierce Celestia’s breast. The tiniest crack that should have gone unheard in the inferno filled her ears and for a moment as she faded Celestia saw-
 
-Twilight leaning over her, expression pinched with worry.
 
“Master?” It sounded like she had been repeating the word urgently for some time. Relief and worry warred for her expression. “Master, are you alright?” She asked.
 
Reaching out gently to the Force, Celestia smiled soothingly and calmed Twilight with a mental touch.  The nascent bond forged in her teachings of the Force made it a simple gesture and reassurance flooded Twilight’s mind. Pushing herself up from the hardwood floor she felt the delicate network of life and emotions filling the small city.
 
All was at peace. She had known the moment the vision ended that it had not been real but some part of her had needed to check, needed to be sure. Such an attack would have been starkly obvious both in the physical world and in the Force.
 
When the attack came it would be obvious.
 
“I’m fine, thank you Twilight.” Standing to her full formidable height Celestia smiled weakly. “I am sorry, I think I need to rest awhile. We can continue this discussion later if you do not mind.” Despite her repeated denial of the title ‘Master’, it was clearly a dismissal.
 
Troubled but obedient, Twilight forced down the questions she wanted to ask. Celestia had been her teacher in all things for years and a constant presence in her life. Learning when to trust her had never been an issue, and right now the older woman was being very serious. It was still hard to leave so soon after the mighty woman had seemingly collapsed for no reason.
 
No reason Twilight knew at least, which was nearly as bad. The moment she left, Twilight decided, she was going to call her brother and ask for a medic to come with him. Today was a slow day and between the two of them perhaps a medical check wouldn’t be beyond what they could convince Celestia to submit to. Using a med-droid was out of the question, the last one to come into Celestia’s presence had been sent to the scrap heap. There was only so much that could be done.
 
Sighing, Twilight nodded reluctantly and turned to leave. She paused at the door, a silent mind-touch bringing her up short.
 
“Perhaps a little more instruction,” Celestia said quietly. “Spike will need lessons soon and you should know enough to be able to help him.”
 
Twilight just stood in the doorway for a second before leaving without a word. A smile twitched at Celestia’s lips as she felt the joy Twilight was radiating. A squeal of joy pierced the wooden wall the moment the door closed behind her as the zabrak girl fought the urge to jump in circles.
 
Taking a moment to draw a deep breath and steel herself, Celestia strode back into her study. From the heavy everwood desk to the walls lined with bookshelves and a thick woven carpet it was the very model of a respectable study. It took her a moment to take the small cube lit from within by a soft blue glow out of the hidden compartment. The image of six shimmering shards sprang from it, holographic images spinning gently in the air before her. Each a different colour; red, blue, pink, violet, green and orange. Their images turned in harmony with each other, and brought a smile to her face.

They had chance, so long as there was hope for Harmony.
 
Sitting at the centre of the room, the cube shifting shapes in her hands as she fell into the Force, she began to work and plan to save a world and, perhaps, a soul.
> Prologue 2 - The Smugglers
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

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

Nar Shaddaa: a moon-sized durasteel covered sinkhole, filled with the galaxy’s criminal scum. Speeders and spacecraft filled its meager atmosphere with noise and pollutants. Few people could honestly claim to be happy here without chemical assistance, but then, few people were particularly honest anyway. Not that happiness, if only chemical happiness, was hard to find. Cantinas were, in the words of street preachers on a thousand worlds, 'temples of vice where only fleeting pleasure could be found'. Fortunately for one woman, fleeting pleasure was exactly what she wanted from the Smuggler’s Moon.

This woman was no local, with her clean, long blonde hair, and clothes that resisted the perpetual grim. She might have stood out in the cantina had it not been for the blaster at her side and the ease with which she strode fearlessly through. She became just another spacer tough, albeit with an unusually high degree of personal hygiene. She gave the bar droid a nod as she slid onto a stool, and a low grunt. It sounded like a heavily accented order for lum ale to the bar droid. Its photoreceptors registered her order with a flash, one of a dozen arms reaching for an empty mug to fill it with the foaming alcohol. Technically one of the cantina rules, buried deep within memory banks that had been serving drinks since before the Clone Wars, was that patrons were meant to remove headwear. Rules later coded into it added the amendment ‘unless said patron can be reasonably said to appear threatening or fits patron category A3 – likely to cause an affray’.
 
In its thirty years of service the bar droid had come to the conclusion that anyone who came to a bar on Nar Shaddaa was likely to cause an affray. So it said nothing about her battered Stetson, calmly handing over her mug of lum and taking the credits she dropped in its collection hand.
 
For her part AJ didn’t give the droid more than a thought, absently guessing its value and half-heartedly scolding herself for it. She had become far too focused on money lately. Counting credits for every purchase was a habit she couldn’t break. 

'Get a new ship, then ya can spend credits on whatever takes yer fancy,' she told herself. She snorted. 'Yeah, right. Can't even lie to myself.'

Money was always going to be tight. Even after she got a new ship, she knew better than to expect much. The thought made her grimace. She raised her drink for the solace of alcohol.
 
Taking a swig, she considered how life had brought her to this situation. Her grip on the mug tightened and it took all her self-control not to snap it like a twig. What would her family think of her, AJ asked in the privacy of her own head, when she agreed to meet a dealer probably fencing a stolen ship?
 
Too busy with her head full of shame and grinding out curses, AJ didn’t notice the staggering figure until it crashed into her shoulder. She caught the bar to keep her balance, replacing shame with annoyance.
 
“He~eeey, bar dude!” A loud, cracking voice blared in AJ’s ear as she was nearly knocked from her chair. “Another! Bring me doom, bring it soon, but most of all bring me lum! Ah hahaha!” 

Rhyming was clearly not one of her talents.
 
“I am afraid you have reached your tab limit, Miss. I cannot serve you,” the bar droid. Artificial as it was, it almost managed to sound peeved with its tinny vocabulator.
 
The swaying figure rested an elbow on AJ’s shoulder, ignoring the roughness of her leather jacket to lay a thin limb casually over her. The larger woman scowled and pushed her away. The drunk swayed, but her grip proved surprisingly strong. AJ groaned, her expression fouling further.
 
“Hey girl, wanna buy me a drink? Jus’ a lil’ one, ‘s all ‘m askin’.” The slender woman turned her head, wild hair whipping into AJ’s eyes. She grinned in the face of AJ’s scowl, seeming to not notice. “I’ll totally make it worse- wiff- worth your whale. While. That’s it!”
 
AJ snorted and jerked her shoulder away from the drunk’s grip. It took more effort than she liked. Apparently those skinny arms had more muscle than they seemed. The girl – AJ couldn’t bring herself to call this slip of sentience a woman – had hair dyed every colour of the rainbow, which was only a little out of the ordinary. You got all sorts in Nar Shaddaa. Just one glance and she saw that everything about this drunk was thin, or rather, slender. A full head shorter than AJ herself, the girl just grinned up at her with rosy cheeks.
 
“C’mon!” She whined, trying to grab AJ again. Her other hand tugged the sky blue scarf wrapped around her neck as she pouted plaintively at the bigger woman.
 
“Maybe ya’ll have had enough.” She fended off the hand, shifting away on her stool. This was the part about going out for a drink she hated. When she finally got a ship she could drink in privacy again.
 
The girl stared at her for a moment before grinning and leaning forward before AJ could stop her. “You have such a sexy accent,” she stage-whispered it like a revelation from the gods.
 
If it wasn’t for her swaying, the smell of her breath or, really, all the other physical signs she might not seem drunk. That is to say, if her state of soberness was judged only on her ability to talk she might not seem so drunk. Her slurring was confined to a few words and she could probably manage a coherent conversation. Well, she could speak. The amount of sense when those words were strung together would likely not be high.
 
AJ sighed, taking another swig of her drink. It was half empty but hopefully that would be enough. She held it out to her annoyance.
 
“Knock ya’self out sugar,” she said, really meaning it.
 
Drunk-girl squealed and snatched it from her. “Fanks!” She slurred mid-guzzle. A trickle threatened to snake down her chin but a nimble tongue darted out to collect it.
 
For one insane moment that tongue hung in AJ’s mind and her cheeks went bright red. It was the ale, she told herself, perfectly aware that she could down a barrel without more than a hiccup. The image of that tongue would haunt her for the rest of the night.
 
The empty mug clattered onto the bar as drunk-girl turned to grin at AJ again. She threw an arm over her shoulders. “You an’ your sexy accent are alwaysh welcome to drink with me, babe.”
 
Rolling her eyes AJ gently eased out off her stool and out of the girl’s arm. “I appreciate the offer sugar, but I’m gonna have ta call it a night.”
 
“Aw,” the girl whined, trying to pull herself over the stool in pursuit of AJ. “But- but your sexy accent- I dun wan’ it ta go!”
 
About to shove her away AJ found her passage blocked by a large, angry figure. The angry quarren was just AJ’s height and the most formidable example of the species she had seen so far. His mouth appendages twitched aggressively and his blue eyes shimmered with anger.
 
“You!” he bellowed, advancing without giving AJ a chance to move. He ignored her as he stomped towards the drunk she had just left.
 
“Yo, squidy!” Drunk-girl grinned at him without seeming to notice the anger he was extruding. “Been a while-”
 
“Be silent!” he roared. “You owe me, girl! Your debt is long overdue.” Quarren didn’t have the proper teeth to grind in frustration like a human would, so this one was doing his best to do the same with tentacles. The result was much more...squelchy.
 
She stared up at him in confusion. “Uh...I paid you back...didn’t I? Yeah, I totally did.”
 
‘Squiddy’ writhed his tentacles angrily and glared past AJ, who was beginning to feel distinctly awkward trapped between the two. The rest of the bar had fallen silent, watching the confrontation as she did her best to get out.
 
“’scuse me sir, gotta- if ya got could just- I’m tryin ta-” Despite her best attempts the quarren failed to react, only giving her enough space to just stand off to the side. She finally twigged, seeing the discolouration on the tips of his tentacles and around his eyes. Whoever this guy was he was hopped up on shard, the black-purple like discolouration the signature of this new drug.
 
Lifting her head up drunk-girl smiled widely and laughed. “Yeah, I paid! Since I paid you, how ‘bout we celebrate old times with a drink on you-”
 
His fist shot past AJ’s head as she ducked out of the way. Whether a timely drunken stagger or a sign that she might not be as drunk as she had first let on the girl had swayed back off the stool and his fist slammed into the padding. AJ tensed. If this turned ugly she was not about to get caught in the middle of it.
 
“I demand payment! You still owe compensation-”
 
A quiet hum cut him off. AJ blinked, not quite sure what had happened. She replayed the moment in her mind. In front of her the drunk girl swayed but the hand holding a blaster pistol to the quarren’s skull was steady as stone.
 
“I’m drunk,” she said, entirely unnecessarily. “An’ I’m guessin’ you are too. So hows ‘bout you buy me a drink, skriff off an’ leave me in peace before I vape what brains you ain’t turned to mush with shard.”
 
Her rough, crackly voice hadn’t changed nor had her vaguely drunken smile but the blaster never even twitched. Drunk-girl’s finger was steady on the trigger as her threat made its way through his drugged brain and he dropped a handful of credits on the bar. Slowly, hesitantly, he staggered away suddenly overcome by his chosen poison.
 
Having apparently forgotten about AJ, the drunken girl cackled happily, throwing the credits to the bar droid who accepted them and poured out a drink. She did remember to thank the woman she had plagued, but too late, finding the spacer already heading for the exit.
 
AJ sighed and walked out, dodging a menagerie of aliens as she ignored the calls of her would-be drinking buddy. It was probably a good idea to save the credits for tomorrow rather than drinking tonight. Ships don’t come cheap and every drink was a little less she had for the purchase. No chance of waking up without a clear head tomorrow.
 
Behind her the drunken girl struggled to her feet after nearly tripping over them and staggered off, looking for someone to help her drown her sorrows and the horror tomorrow was going to bring.

*
 
AJ eyed the dealer with no small amount of little suspicion. She had caught sight of him the moment she entered the vast landing bay, a tunnel wide enough to fit ten ships and going straight through a rising complex. This, she knew without a doubt, was the man she was after and he looked too slimy by half to be selling a ship. A moustache that looked like he had spent hours waxing it and bright red hair slicked back added to the look of his cheap suit and faux-straw hat. It was not an altogether great indication of things to come. AJ experienced a moment of doubt, but her chance to leave vanished when he spotted her and called out with a flamboyant flourish of his hat. Engrained politeness forced her to acknowledge him with a far more subdued tip of her own battered hat.
 
‘Lookit you, polite as Granny taught ya ta be, in a den a’ thieves,’ she couldn’t help but think as the dealer hurried over to her. ‘Course not like I’m much better.’ AJ took in the ships around her that filled the landing bay and their less than reputable looking crews. The eternal night of the Smuggler’s Moon dotted with stars and the lights of the pervasive city glittered at each gaping entrance as the buzz of speeders and repulsors formed a background chorus. The urban stink of Nar Shaddaa was a constant reminder that home was far, far away.
 
“I see my dear brother’s description of our lovely buyer hardly does you justice.” He grinned at her with the open, welcoming expression of a man wanting to make a sale. “My name is Flim. I take it you are Ap-”
 
“AJ. Call me AJ,” she interrupted, adjusting her belt self-consciously.
 
Flim cocked an eyebrow but just nodded. He had dealt with buyers who were name shy. “Of course, of course. Now my dear AJ, to business. You approached us to find you a ship on the strength of a recommendation, yes? Something a little up class from the usual smuggler’s fare?” He paused as if waiting for some response but all she gave him was a nod. “Then we have a wonderful opportunity!”
 
She nodded again, following as Flim set off through the bay at a brisk pace. “Issat so?” Her doubts must have shown in her voice.
 
“Indeed it is. Why, only yesterday a debtor failed to repay us. She has had more than enough time so we have chosen to collect collateral. Her ship is going to cover some of her debt, and a fine ship it is too,” he told her enthusiastically.
 
“Some? Most good ships’d cover a debt,” AJ pointed out with a frown. Part of her was worried, concerned she was taking advantage of someone who for all she knew could have been cheated or tricked by the all too slimy Flim-Flam Brothers. Another part of her, the part that was cold and calculating, hardened by life, told her it wasn’t any of her business. It was their own fault for being stupid or lazy.
 
He tipped his hat to her. “Normally you would be correct; however our dear debtor rather overestimated herself. Overconfidence is something of a trait of hers.” His smirk all but screamed that he had been well aware of this and invited her to share his amusement.
 
She didn’t. AJ just grunted. They were on Nar Shaddaa after all and only a fool took a man like Flim at his word. Whoever she was, their debtor was an arrogant idiot.
 
“And here we are!” With a flourish of hat Flim stood to the side and gave her a wave towards a ship nearly a hundred yards away. “The Rainboom.”
 
She had seen holos of A-Wing Starfighters used by the New Republic and this ship looked almost like somebody had taken one, smoothed its edges, and made it the size of a light freighter. Narrow and thin at the bow it widened and spread until it reached the engines, which were a half circle curving around from the widest point of each side. It took her a few seconds to place the design.
 
“A WR-five four two Shooting Star, originally manufactured by Sienar Fleet Systems. The Imps stopped using them about a decade ago. I’m sure you’ve seen a few about. This beauty has been substantially modified. Its former owner has kept its zero point five hyperdrive but made a few fine tunings and made it a tad more energy efficient,” Flim began his pitch, rattling off details and expositing with an eager tone.
 
‘Zero point five...’ The number nearly made her drool. That was fast, especially for a ship this size. Most freighters had flat class four hyperdrives and even modern line-of-warships were class one. Zero point five was fast enough to outrun any officials or pirates. “Enough to outrun an ImpStar.”
 
Flim smirked. He could see the spark of interest in her eyes. “Now now my dear,  the Brothers Flim-Flam would have no idea about that sort of thing,” he chided her with a sly look. “But the previous owner certainly did that a time or two from what I’ve heard. She even managed to boost its sublight engines, coax out a little more speed.”
 
“Shields?” As they got closer she made out a splash of colour along it side, a band of seven colours lining one of its widening edges. The mental image of the girl from last night and her damn, sleep-stealing tongue. The question was as much to distract herself as to get a real answer.
 
“Finely tuned but not, admittedly, the most robust,”  he answered before smoothing running past that detracting detail. “But with this ship’s fine handling and speed, is that really important? I think I would be right in saying that a stand up fight is not the business you need such a ship for.”
 
“My reference?” she asked, already knowing the answer as she looked it over. Weak shields, but he was right, speed and maneuverability meant more to her.
 
Flim nodded with a crooked smile. “Correct. The individual who sent you to us made mention of what you might require.” He led her closer to the ship and she saw another man, the other half of the Flim-Flam Traders in his matching vest, leaning against one of the landing struts.
 
“Flam.” She tipped her hat and began to inspect the ship, walking slowly around it. Her critical eye ran over it and AJ found herself nodding. Whoever the Rainboom used to belong to knew how to keep it in good condition. She could see all the signs of regular maintenance and care.
 
Flam smiled widely at her. “Ah ha, I see you have a good eye miss Ap-”
 
“-AJ,” Flim finished for Flam with a quick smile
 
The brothers followed her, chattering away as they did their best sales pitch. She mostly ignored them until she got back around to the front. Staring up at the sealed ramp AJ glanced at them with a question to ask.

“Can I get a look inside?” she asked, rapping her knuckles on the hull. She didn’t notice the look the brothers exchanged.
 
“About that, while we would love to-” began Flim.
 
“-the previous owner has yet to give us the security codes,” finished Flam. “We were expecting her to be here by now. But, as ever, dear Dash has let us down.”
 
“Our sincerest apologies,” took over Flim, clasping his hands and doing his best to look regretful. It had to be said it was a very well practiced expression of regret.
 
Her glance turned sharp. “Ya’ll expect me to ta buy somethin’ without even lookin’ inside?” her voice was carefully empty, her stare cold and sharp.
 
Apparently sensing they may want to avoid offending their customer further they were already going into ‘placate’ mode when an angry voice cut them off.
 
“What the hell are you doing to my ship?” A cracking, rough voice AJ could still remember all but roared.  She looked between Flim and Flam and her suspicion was confirmed. A slender, rainbow haired girl was doing her best to stomp towards them.
 
She was only really getting half the effect. Her feet were coming down with a loud stamp but every time she winced and clutched at her head and she had to take a few staggering steps before she could stomp again. She sabotaged any intimidation she had, which given her slight form wasn’t particularly much to begin with.
 
Parting the brothers practically spun to face her. “Ah, dear Dash-” Flim began.
 
“Don’t ‘dear Dash’ me, you scummy shit,” she snarled, glaring at them with bloodshot eyes. “Get the skriff away from my Rainboom before I vape you, and your stupid hats. They’ll probably throw me a party for burning a hole straight through the two of you.”
 
Their smiles were tight and their eyes hard in contrast to how they had acted to AJ. Her threats seemed to just bounce off them, but after seeing her ability to hold a weapon steady while drunk off her tits AJ wasn’t sure that was a good idea. A little caution was always good in a place like Nar Shaddaa.
 
“This ship, if you remember, is collateral,” Flim said with a quiet but smug tone. It instantly grated on AJ and she watched him through narrowed eyes. “You have missed the final date.”
 
“A final date we’ve pushed back, out of the goodness of our hearts-” both women snorted at the same time when Flam said that, “-and you have once again failed to pay us. This time there will be no extension.”
 
Dash began to grind her teeth, dropping her hands from her forehead to dangle dangerously close to her belt and the twin blaster pistols holstered there. 

“Is that so?” she growled. “You’re taking my Rainboom? You think you’re taking it? Well, I don’t.”
 
Almost without thinking AJ’s hand dropped to her own belt. She had no interest in a fight but if this slip of a girl wanted to start one, the smuggler would oblige her. Her trigger finger twitched, but she resisted the urge to draw. This was something for the traders to settle with their debtor, she reminded herself, and unless Dash targeted her she would stay out of it. Not her business, no matter how much she wanted to see the girl trying to live up to her threats.
 
“Please, brother, Dash, lets not get carried away. We’re all grown sentients here,” Flim assured the irate pilot. Stepping forward, Flim held up his hands to calm things.

Dash hesitated for a second. The sound of gears moving in her head were almost audible from the look on her face, although it was doubtful she would have been able to endure any sounds so close to her head with a hangover.
 
“In fact, how about we offer you a deal?” With a smile Flim stepped to the side and a blue bolt flew past him to slam into Dash. “One free stunbolt.”

Flam lowered his concealed blaster with the same smug smile on his face. “Very generous of us, given the circumstances, wouldn’t you say brother of mine?” he asked with a jockular chuckle.
 
AJ blinked. Her blaster, half-drawn the moment he fired, slowly returned went back into its holster. 

‘More dangerous than they look,’ she decided. Her opinion would have to be revised, it was all too obvious. Teamwork could make or break any team, and theirs was flawless. Flim had moved to hide Flam without so much as a suspicious glance between them.
 
Looking at the downed girl for a moment, AJ was just glad it had been set to stun. She paused as she began to turn away, focusing on Dash. She should, by all rights, be out cold or at least unable to move. To her surprise the girl twitched. Not much, admittedly, but more than she expected. 

‘Either that stun blast was set to its minimum power level or she’s a lot hardier than she looks.’
 
“I do apologise, Miss AJ,” Flam said with a smile. It was so charming, it might have distracted her from noticing his brother checking to make sure Dash wasn’t about to get up. “Dash is a rather impulsive girl and we felt this way would be better for everyone involved.”
 
Flim stood, Dash’s pistols in his hands. She twitched and shook but all the rainbow haired girl could do was glare weakly up at him. 

“We would have had to do this anyway,” he added almost lazily.
 
“I don’t imagine she was gonna let her ship go too easily,” AJ conceded with a frown. Much as she hated to admit it...this was good. For her at any rate. She suppressed the pang of guilty for the mercenary thinking. They all had to make sacrifices. “But if ya ain’t gonna pay what ya owe, ya gotta take what ya get.”
 
They chuckled as though she had told a mildly amusing joke. The look they shared set alarm bells ringing; the same ones that had gone off every day back home, and no matter how much she ignored them, rang they did.

“Well, there is that,” Flim admitted.
 
“But the ship won’t cover her entire debt,” provided Flam.
 
Behind them Dash, spread eagled across the bay floor, made vague grunts. They were, if AJ was any judge, probably curses on the brothers. Her glare’s intensity could have powered a capital ship. Her fingers twitched, but her body remained numb and weak.
 
AJ frowned. She was getting a bad feeling. “How’re ya gonna get the rest then, if ya’ll don’t mind my askin’? She a good pilot?”
 
“One of the best I have ever seen,” Flim answered, but his smile thinned. “But no, she is too unruly. Fortunately for us a rather eager customer came forth when he heard her debt was unlikely to be paid. A buyer with a rather select taste, you might say.”
 
“Buyer?” She echoed, not understanding. Louder and louder the alarms rang, and nothing would make them go away. ‘It’s not my business. I have to remember that. No matter what he says; it’s not my business.’
 
On the ground the shivering movement that was the stunned Dash suddenly stopped. For a moment AJ felt like the air around her had frozen in a chilling, desperate frost. It clung to her, adding weight to every muscle in a sudden psychological terror. 

She blinked, and the feeling was gone. The girl was still unmoving. Neither of the traders seemed to have noticed. 

“Yes, although don’t ask for names. Between you and I, I gather he has had his eye on her for quite some time. But Dash is nothing if not prideful,” said Flam. He smiled down at the pilot, a hint of admiration in his eyes. “Not many are so good at keeping beyond the reach of the rich as our young friend here.”
 
“Which is a shame, her price will have to be a bit lower. Breaking a headstrong new slave is a rather tedious business we would rather not be involved in,” sighed Flim.

‘Ignore it.’ 

Slave.

‘It’s not my business...’

They were going to sell Dash as a slave to make up for her debt. Obviously. It was obvious, and she should have guessed, though she didn’t want to. AJ wanted them to take it back, to laugh it off as a joke, but she knew they wouldn’t. Worse, she knew she would never have believed them.

 AJ’s eyes flicked down to see Dash’s reaction. She saw none of the bravado from before. She met a pair of terrified magenta eyes. Everything about the girl changed in that instant. Pride and confidence were stripped away. Even drunk or hungover she had just extruded an aura that screamed that she was a winner, that she could take on any challenge, but that was gone. Her eyes, when she had tried to flirt a drink out of AJ, had been alive and bright. For lack of a better term, she had glowed to AJ.
 
Dash lay on the floor with eyes wide in bone-chilling terror. Everything in her stunned body screamed that she wanted to run. AJ could see the fear in those suddenly dull eyes. She almost could see what Dash was thinking; she could practically hear it. 

She was trapped, she couldn’t get away. There was nothing she could do. 

In that moment she would have thrown herself from the bay into free fall rather than be sold off like some kind of meat. Fear and impotent rage beat at the cage her useless body had become but Dash couldn’t move. She couldn’t escape. 
 
“How much is her debt?” AJ’s mouth asked without bothering to consult her brain. She blinked, sharing the brothers’ surprise.
 
“I’m sure that’s not-” Flam waved away.
 
“No need to bother with her-” Flim started.
 
“How. Much.” It wasn’t a question so much as a very pointed statement. AJ could feel Dash’s confused stare on her as she looked at the traders with a dark expression. “Ya gonna answer or am I gonna have ta find someone else willin’ ta deal me a ship. Surely it ain’t nothin’ ta whistle over.”
 
That decided it for them. There was really no reason not to tell her anyway. Her reference was too important for them to risk offending by planning to cheat her, so the price they had prepared already was an honest percentage of Dash’s debt. So they told her.
 
AJ whistled.

“Sithspit girl, how the hell did ya rack up a debt like that?!” she demanded, ignoring the fact Dash was unable to answer beyond a quiet ‘nnnnng’ right now. She wasn’t sure there were any words fit to explain it she wanted to hear anyway.
 
“Now dear customer, I do apologise but we’ll have to delay the rest of the tour until tomorrow. You may take it as a guarantee of the Flim-Flam Traders that we will be able to show you in the interior then.” Flam smiled at her, clearly hoping to move on to a subject of making money. Ever the helpful soul, she obliged, just not in the way he was expecting.

“Yer makin’ a loss like this, ain’t ya?” She jerked her chin at Dash. “Cause I got an idea that’ll make everyone here happy.” 

“Those are the kind of ideas we like, do we not, brother?” asked Flim.

Flam nodded. “We do indeed! Tell us, Fair AJ, this idea of yours.”

“Now, ta my way a’ thinkin’ this ship is mite bit too good fer me,” AJ admitted with a rueful smile. “I saw Dash there move last night while dead drunk an’ she’s got reflexes like a stim junkie. Without the stim, I hope.”
 
Flim nodded. He shared a curious look with his brother. “You are correct. Why, if we didn’t already know that she was out drinking last night we would never have simply gone about business this way. The morning after, she’s not quite up to scratch. If I may be so bold as to ask where you’re going-”
 
“So this ship is probably way too delicate for me ta handle,” AJ rolled  right over him. “The way I see it, if I buy it off you I’m gonna need a pilot anyhow, an’ findin’ a good one’ll take longer than I wanna be groundside,” she went on. The alarms had gone quiet, leaving only the dreaded silence that might force her to stop and reflect for a moment..
 
“You want to buy Dash along with the ship?” Flam asked sharply.
 
She shook her head. “No.” 

Her expression was firm and her eyes hard. AJ had stooped low and would do so again but she would not, could not, bring herself to even consider owning a slave. She had to have limits, she had decided, no matter how far from where they should be she might set them.

“I’ll buy the Rainboom right enough, an’ I’ll pay off the rest of her debt.” A few steps carried her to Dash’s side and she squatted, locking gaze with the pilot. “If you, Dash, agree to be my pilot. It’ll be my ship, but you’ll be flyin’ her and it’s better than endin’ up dancin’ in your undies.”
 
Behind her the brothers closed ranks, whispering an argument. Or perhaps a discussion. The distinction is generally small and easily ignored, particularly between family. Right now AJ was ignoring it entirely in favour of focusing on her prospective pilot.
 
The fear was still there in her eyes, the desperate terror AJ had seen a few times before. It was raw and animalistic, the sort of fear a sentient only got after having it beaten into them. But it was slowly being locked away and she could already see....already feel the glow returning to Dash.
 
Dash looked her straight in the eye and she seemed to search for something. Her expression was halfway between hopeful and suspicious.
 
One of the brothers cleared his voice. AJ looked up and the brothers smiled in perfect timing, holding their hats against their chests.
 
“We have discussed your suggestion. It has some merit, as the repaying of the entire debt is a most desirable outcome,” began Flim.
 
Flam added; “But we must be sure you can pay it in its entirety. It is a rather large amount.”
 
Sighing she slowly stood up, one hand reaching into her satchel. A bottle wrapped in protective gauze came out and she brought it over. Slipping away the thin protection AJ held it out for them to see. She couldn’t help a flash of pride at the same moment as their eyes lit up.
 
“It’s genuine. I got a crate a’ this, fifteen more bottles, stowed away in storage. Aged and fine, y’all won’t find better. If ya can get this to the Core I can promise you’ll make more than enough to cover the last of her debt,” AJ told them quietly, her tone almost sad. When one of them reached out she passed the bottle, despite a voice suspiciously like her grandmother’s whispering in the back of her mind how wrong it was.
 
Looking between her and the bottle, understanding suddenly dawned on the brothers’ faces.
 
“I see,” Flim murmured with a slight smile. “How interesting.”
 
Flam turned his most flattering smile on AJ as he handed the bottle back. “I think we may be able to come to an understanding. Why, I think I know just the ship to get this to a few parties I know will be interested,” he said, eyes flicking back towards the Rainboom.
 
Stepping past his brother Flim nodded down at Dash. “Of course, Miss Dash has yet to agree.”
 
AJ looked down at Dash. Their eyes met again.
 
“It’s your choice sugar,” AJ muttered. ‘It’s this or slavery’ went unsaid. She didn’t much like the idea of gloating or rubbing it in the girl’s face.
 
Dash stared back, looking for something her eyes. She seemed to find it, finally giving a slow, painful nod. With that she slumped back onto the deck and stared at the ceiling, her expression unreadable.
 
 “Looks like we have a deal, boys,” AJ said. They began to smile in return until she suddenly frowned. “Now where the hell is a medic? I got a pilot I want up and about before the end of the day.”
 
The captain of the Rainboom left the hangar, her pilot slung over her shoulder mumbling incoherent protests. For some reason, AJ felt like she was going to get familiar with this sort of thing, if last night was any indication.

But somehow, she was sure she wouldn’t mind.
> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Where is it?!”

The shriek pierced the peace, shattering it as surely as a blaster bolt, and with significantly more ear based pain. Thumps and thuds accompanied it, each ringing out a pattern across the floor. Dataslates thunked and bounced, a new note in the symphony of desperation playing through the rooms.

Twilight Sparkle, self-declared Jedi Padawan, let loose another cry of despair and pushed through the literary debris before her.

“I need to find it!”

A dataslate flew, bounced, and found a target that squealed. Wood creaked beneath the burst of speed the unfortunate victim to book-based violence, throwing himself across it with a hiss of annoyance. Delicate, immature wings flared and settled as he leapt from table to wall. Small, wicked claws dug into the surface from six points, each of half a dozen limbs fixing him in place to crane his neck enough to glare at her.

“Do you really have to throw them? I mean, come on, how does that help you find one stupid thing?” He grumbled, thoughts rolling across the room lazily.

She peeked up from behind a chest, snapping the lock open with a flick of her fingers. Though her eyes just barely grazed the rise of the lid, the central of her three horns made it much less subtle a position than one might hope.

“Well, maybe if a certain lazy someone helped, I wouldn’t need to fling them all over the place, would I?” she shot back. Her hands went to her hips, though given who she was talking to, it was rendered just as moot as the chest blocking any sight of it would have made it. Her impatience and frustration radiated to him, yet still he gave a shrug in response.

“We’re just going to have to tidy up- oh no! Come on!” Disbelief rushed to her, mingled frustration to match her own making a heady mixture. Forelegs releasing the wall, he stood horizontally and folded them over his chest. “You’re doing this on purpose because you want to do another reshelving before we go!”

“I- no, no, that’s not it at all,” she snapped. Heat bloomed across her face, and she copied him as she stood. “Is that the sort of thing I would do?”

“Yes.”

“Spike! How could you say such a thing!”

He rolled his eyes, jerking free of the wall and launching himself to her. Twilight frowned, but she didn’t stop him from landing on her shoulder and slinking around to the other.

“Because I’ve known you my whole life?” he suggested. His tail curled around her upper arm, a thinning band of rings that pressed against her body suit. Spike flexed his tail, and pricked at the padded shoulders experimentally. “This thing is so cool.”

“Master Celestia gave it to me, what else would you expect?” A smile formed as she said it, and she plucked at one sleeve. The heat came back from whence it had fled as she gazed down, admiring each nuance of its design. She flicked her fingers absently, and the contents of the floor began to resume their places in the shelves around her. “She said it was a very old design. almost lost to time-”

“Speaking of time, how much have we got until we leave?” he asked, sliding the question in between one thought and the next.

A book slammed another book off the shelf, the zabrak frozen in place for a moment.

“I need to find it!”

Sighing, Spike rubbing at his face with one claw and wished for a moment he knew how to slap someone sensible with the Force. “What exactly are we looking for anyway? I thought you packed everything this morning.”

“So did I,” said Twilight,, throwing open the chest and leaning in to stare. “But then I thought ‘what if I get bored of one and want to practice my fine control with something more complex?’ so I had to find the dataslate with the instructions of Master Giiett, since they’re so thorough, but I can’t find them anywhere!”

“...”

This time, she felt the profound silence rather than mere words. Pausing, Twilight turned to him an eyebrow raised. “What is it?”

Spike groaned, shaking his head. “Twi’, that’s already in there. Remember how you ‘bundled’ a bunch of them together? You know, so you didn’t need so many dataslates?”

He didn’t need to hear her say yes. He didn’t even expect her to. It would have been nice, Spike was happy to admit to himself, but he knew better than to expect it. Hope for it, oh yes, he hoped for such a sweet, minor victory.

The cleaning resumed, and Twilight straightened as if a durasteel rod had been inserted where her spine was. “...I see. Well then…” What she didn’t say was carried on a wave of mortification that brought a smug little smile to his scaled face.

“Well then…?” he urged. He brought his toothy grin next to her ear, the faintest of pleased, draconic purrs just barely audible. “Since we have time now, maybe we could get some kas nuts? Since I saved us all the effort of keeping on searching, right?”

Her eyes narrowed at him, “Really?” she asked, deadpan. “Is that what it will take for you to keep this to yourself?” His agreement sang back over their bond, and she sighed with a roll of her eyes. “Alright, we can get some kas nuts. If you help me reshelve.”

“Aww yeah,” gloated Spike. He leapt from her shoulders, and soon a rush of purple scales was restoring order. Between her no doubt necessary display of the Force and his eager assistance, everything was back in place with practiced ease.

Twilight had less ease when she attempted to make her way out. Huffing and puffing, she leaned against the door, bent over almost double. She glared at the bag, as if it was at fault for her state.

“Told you you packed too much.”

“Please, not right now...ah!” Her head whipped up, and her cry rang down the road. “El-ee-vee-three-arr, thank the Force.”

Trundling along, the service droid paused, photorecptors turning towards her. It cocked its head to the side, taking in the girl with the closest its unmoving face could come to curiosity.

She gestured at the bag, an apologetic smile on her face. “Would you be able to take this to Celestia’s house for me?”

After a moment the droid gave a stilted bow. “Of course, Mistress.” Its eyes flashed. “Am I to deliver this bag to her...personally?”

In theory, LEV-3R had no capacity for nervousness, or fright. It’s synthesized voice should have no capacity to quiver. It was rather remarkable that it overcame the odds in this regard and did exactly that.

“Oh, no, no no no, you don’t have to do that,” Twilight spluttered, waving her hands urgently. “Just, uh, leave it in the door...and make sure to announce you’re there and just about to leave my bag inside before you do it, okay?”

“Most certainly, Mistress. Thank you.” LEV-3R was on a roll, clearly, given it managed to express not just relief, but gratitude in voice and flashing eyes.

“No, thank you,” said Twilight, smiling at the droid. Leaving it to take her bag, she set off through town. It was down a familiar path they went, her scaled companion clinging to her shoulders like a cat, and she could feel his anticipation grew with each step she took. “It hasn’t been this long since you had kas nuts, was it?

“Uh, yeah, it’s been forever,” he sent at her, a mix of irritation flowing through it. His tail tightened minutely around her arm, squeezing her eagerly. “You said they were making me fat.”

Twilight thought back, and a smile tugged at the corners of her lips as the image of a visibly chubby little dragon played across her imagination. From the twitch of his tail, he was catching something of what she saw in her mind.

“Not that fat,” he confirmed with a mental grumble. His tail tightened again, enough for a moment of discomfort before she swatted him.

“Stop that,” said Twilight, and if anyone she passed down the paved road though it odd she was talking to a winged, six-legged lizard perched atop her shoulders, none pointed it out. The young zabrak scowled at him quickly, and forced a smile on as she passed a human woman. And she smiled back, as small as it was, Twilight was pleased to see it.

“They don’t think you’re that weird.”

Twilight flushed, glaring at Spike. “I didn’t....” Her mouth shut with a click of her teeth, and she fell silent. The bustle of a town filled their ears, and Twilight made herself smile again as she passed those who waved or called a greeting. She was hardly an unusual sight, and most who called added a hello to Spike. He uncoiled his tail to wave back, and tapped her shoulder to make sure she did too.

“...sorry.”

Sighing, Twilight offered him a weak smile. “It’s fine,” she whispered back, thoughts and intents flowing across their bond into words. “I know it might be in my head, but I know I’m-”

“We,” Spike interrupted. “We’re different from them, not just you.”

She nodded. “We are, but we shouldn’t have to hide it. We shouldn’t have to worry. After everything she has done for them, I’m sure they wouldn’t care.”

Spike shrugged; a complicated maneuver with eight limbs. “I guess? I dunno, maybe she’ll let you know when you get back? Maybe the Empire really is gone.”

He pressed his head against her cheek, scales brushing across soft skin. Twilight stroked his neck, and looked wishfully up, past the towers of native stone, into the clear sky. Their sun shone down on them, and in her eyes she saw a thousand other suns. Distant stars, their visages coloured by the blue of holos, or faded flimsy-card, lurked in her imagination as they did every day.

“Maybe…” Striding through the town Canterlot, Twilight let a real smile spread across her face. “We’re going to find out, one way or another. Everything changes today, Spike. Today we leave.”

*

‘Today.’

She stared, drinking in the sight like a parched woman before an oasis. It wasn’t all that wrong a comparison; the town was had been an oasis to her. She took a breath, fresh, living air filling her lungs and sending a faint rush through her at the crisp taste, and the sense of connection. Pure air that fed life across a planet almost untouched by civilisation.

‘Today, everything changes.’

Bright eyes darkened, and she bowed her head as that fresh air blew out in a sigh. The sunlight shone, and as her hair fell forward, caught in the gossamer strands. She left it there for the moment, content.

All around her, she felt life at its prime. The town was aglow, a map of emotions and points of energy that shone before her even with her eyes turned down. Beneath the web of sapients, their higher thinking minds clouding feeling with thought, an endless network spread from horizon to horizon. She reached out to grasp a tendril, and let it carry her with it. Through a thousand roots riddling the earth, she reached from burning heart to frozen crown.

It all held such beauty, and it broke her heart to know how soon it might be snuffed out. It shattered what was left of her, to know that it was her fault.

She closed her eyes, knowing she was unworthy of touching this beauty. “I’m sorry.” 

Two little words that meant so much.

A trail of wetness rolled down her cheek, a single tear staining her pristine, sorrowful expression. “I’m sorry.”

 Two little words that did so little.

She released her gentle hold on the lifeforce of a world, and whispered the two little words that were all she had left; “I’m sorry.”

In the peace, an intrusion announced itself with a soft chime. With it her focus shrunk, turning the blazing clarity of a planet to a single sphere of knowledge that pushed out from her to touch the world. There was no life where her door was but the Force still flowed around all things, and it described the spark of power that brought semblance of life to steel and plastic, revealing by its lack the presence of whirring servos and thrum of circuits. She watched without eyes as the droid leaned forward, depositing its burden with a whir of gear she could only describe as nervous.

The wood of the rail creaked under her hand. Stress lines widened and spread until she breathed in, and the cleansing touch of a life time’s discipline brought peace to her mind and stole the tension from her hand.

When the door below had shut and another chime sounded, the droid hurrying away, she reached up and removed the glistening tear with a swipe of her hand. She released her focus, turning from the vista of Canterlot to stride from the balcony. This was not to say her sightless vision of the world was simply gone. All that she sacrificed was the sheer detail, the scale of her attention dialing back with her shift in priorities.

Just in time, too, for a faint bing brought her attention to the commlink waiting for her. A tap of the button summoned a face. In the holographic static, the lines that almost seemed to mark a shield across his face were lost, but the horns left no possibility of confusing his identity with any other young man.

“The jammer is powering up, Master,” he reported with preamble. “It should be strong enough to reach high orbit, if we need it.” Even rendered in hologram, fire flashed in his eyes.

She didn’t rise to the bait. “Thank you,” was all she said with a grateful nod.

The young man frowned, brow furrowing at her. “Master, are you sure we’ll need it? One vision-”

“- is more than enough,” she finished, though she had no doubt he had meant to say something very different. “At least it is for me. After all this time, Shining, I had hoped it would be enough for you too.”

He sighed, and years dropped away in the face of the same frustration she had seen on him whenever a problem demanded some esoteric solution. “It is. I’m not doubting you, I just… are you sure you know what it means? Didn’t you tell me emotions can make these sort of things hard to decipher?”

“Emotions can provide clarity to sight as much as it can cloud vision.” She held her hand up, and by the stilled response on his lips, the commlink’s holocam had caught it. “After so long, I love you like a son, and as such I’m sure I’ve told you how often I had this very argument with the Council.”

He grimaced, and his disembodied head nodded. “Alright, aright,” Shining grumbled. His hand joined the image for a moment as he ran it through his hair, brushing over his horns. “I’m just… I don’t like this. Lying to her, or him, and not giving everyone more warning… it feels wrong.”

Simple words, but they did so much for her. She smiled, and had he been there, the zabrak would have found himself swept into a powerful hug.

“I know, and it should. Never let necessity change that feeling, Shining Armour. If I saw any other way, I would take it, and knowing that I cannot breaks my heart more than you know. What we are doing is wrong. It might be our only path to salvation, but that does not mean we are not stained by doing it.” She reached out without moving an inch, and from halfway across the town, Shining felt the touch of her mind.

In the hologram, his eyes closed for but a moment before opening once more. No words needed to be said; there was nothing more, when one might feel another’s heart through the Force.

“Come quickly,” she said. “Twilight and Spike will be here soon. I know they would hate to leave without giving their big brother a proper goodbye.”

His lips twisted in sardonic smile. “Yeah. More than they know, I guess. See you soon, Master.”

The call ended, leaving her with just the natural light streaming in around her. Alone, unseen, she brushed another tear from her cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

*

‘Soon.’

She stared, devouring the vision like a starving woman before a banquet. It wasn’t all that wrong a comparison; she had hungered so long for this, dreamed such dreams of fulfilment..such nightmares. She took a breath, old, stale air filling her lungs and sending a faint rush through her at the taint of suffering, and the sense of connection. Recycled air that fed life across a ship, cut off from civilisation by durasteel hull as much as by obedience to proper order. 


Dark eyes brightened, and she raised her head as she sucked in that pain-tinged air with a hungry gasp. The light of hyperspace lit her chamber in a kaleidoscope shifting white and blue, and as her hair fell back, it caught in the gossamer strands. She didn’t see it hanging there, brilliant blues and whites dotting her dark hair with as if stringed with stars.

All around her, she felt the choking of her minions. The ship was a mass of shadows, a map of contained anger and resentment, beacons of cold hate that called to her through bulkheads and decks of durasteel. All that could be felt was this hive of dark, grim minds, and trapped within were the lesser minds, the grunts who shied away from the work they did and ignored what might they think again of their beliefs. She reached out to snare a mind, a carefully contained well of stewing bitterness. Shapes formed within it, each carrying some mark in their mind as worthy of disdain, or resentment, or jealousy. Across these links of hate she spread herself, and it brought a smile to her face to bathe in such darkness.

It all held such beauty, and even as part of her screamed, the rest of her laughed. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in it, letting it wash over her and drown out the other voice. The voice that called out a name, desperate, begging. A name that made her sick.

“Celestia.”

She hissed the word, and savoured the taste of it upon her lips. Each letter was part of a whole, a link in a chain, and each brought a smile to her face. A savage, hungry smile that hinted at the mind that lurked behind them. She gazed in the swirling lights of hyperspace, and let it roll from her tongue again.

“Celestia.”

Each letter, a link. The word, a chain. No matter how she said it, her mouth twisted in disgust one moment and fury, yet still it was a sweet sound. It spoke to her of the past, of times long gone. It spoke to her of such love, but left a bitter aftertaste that lingered on, sinking into her.

“Celestia.”

Again, she said it, and the chain tightened around her. It squeezed, ringing in her ears long after the sound had faded, until from it the hate began to fester. It boiled below the surface, a well-spring of fury that sent tremors down her spine. She had but to say the word, invoke that name, and the rage grew stronger.

Behind her, a low tone broke her reverie. Her lips curled into a snarl. “What is it?” 

There was no image; none had the right to interrupt her to that extent. From the grill of the intercom, the captain’s voice issued. “I apologise for the interruption, My Lady, but we’re about to reach the final jump point. We shall be leaving hyperspace in a few minutes.”

She sneered at the unseen captain. “We had best be moving again before long, captain. Time is of the essence. She will not slip away from me. I will not lose my chance at revenge because of your incompetence.”

“We shall not fail you, My Lady,” he assured her, and it brought a thrill of pleasure to hear the undercurrent of fear in his voice. “I have the coordinates loaded, and the navigation calculations have been triple checked. The moment we arrive, we’ll set course. It is a short jump, the chance of anything going wrong are minimal.”

“I don’t need that explained to me,” she growled. Her hand balled into a fist, tightening enough to hear her gauntlet creak. “Do not presume to instruct me. Remember who you serve!”

“M-my apologies, My Lady. I won’t do it again,” he stuttered. The sound of his fearful apologies was enough to sooth her for a moment, and she snorted derisively.

“Then get on with it.” The call ended with a crack, the intercom’s casing snapping with a surge of her will. Uncaring, she continued to stare into hyperspace. The interruption had served no purpose, whatever his intentions. The temptation to go to the bridge and provide motivation presented itself, but she shook it away.

‘Soon.’ The thought made her smile again. ‘Soon, Celestia dies.’


*

Twilight pushed the door open, and quick as a lightwhip, Spike was off her shoulder and darting through the air. Wings spread, he managed to glide across the room and land on the armchair without issue. His tail whipped about, and pulled another of his treats out as he lounged there. The snap of hard shell cracking began to sound out.

“Mmmm, at last,” he sent, his thought-voice almost a moan of delight. “I love kas nuts!”

Ignoring him with the ease of practice, Twilight leaned down and pulled open her bag. Everything was in place, as overfilled as it had been when she handed it off to the service droid.

“Judging by the lack of severed droid parts, I guess Lever didn’t run into her,” she muttered, sealing the bag again.

“I’d be put out about a remark like that,” called a voice, amusement running clear throughout, “if it wasn’t backed up by quite a bit of evidence.”

Twilight twirled, cheeks flaring. “Master! I, uh, sorry! I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m sorry.”

With a wave of her hand, Celestia dismissed the concern. “You don’t have to apologise. After what I did to the medical droid...well, I’m very glad I didn’t hit anything vital. Losing such an important droid would be a terrible thing.”

Head and shoulders taller than Twilight, the older woman shook her head at the thought. She stepped from the stairway and strode across the room. Her lips twitched into a small smile when she saw Spike, and passed him with a gentle stroke along his neck.

“Well, it won’t be an issue for long,” said Twilight. She had to suppress a roll of her eyes at Spike’s attention-begging. “With the veil fading, we can start trading, and then Canterlot will have everything it needs!”

She missed the faint frown on her teacher’s face, though Spike did not. He glanced up at her, but Celestia shook her head slightly.

“A lot of things are going to change, yes,” Celestia agreed, lips pursing. It was impossible to miss her grimace this time, and brought her student up short. “Twilight, you took the time to say your goodbyes, yes?”

The zabrak coughed, and shrugged weakly. “Pretty much.”

Celestia sighed. She rubbed her temple, massaging it with thumb and forefinger as it to work out a kink. “Twilight…”

“It’s not like I have many people to say goodbye to,” the girl blurted. A flush lit her cheeks, but she forged on. “Besides, I’ll only be gone for a few days at most. It’s not like I’ll be away long. We’ve been away from town for longer anyway, I’m sure it doesn’t matter that much.”

Head resting atop the armchair, Spike chewed on a nut as he projected, “Which is totally not her way of saying she still hasn’t done what you told her to do and made some friends.”

“Spike!”

“But I got her to say goodbye to the nut man for me,” he continued. He grinned at the woman. “Does that count?”

Another sigh, and Celestia watched her student glare across the room at Spike. “I’m afraid it doesn’t,” she answer. “Twilight, we’ve talked about this. There’s more to life than history.”

it was an old argument, and again Celestia found her wisdom pited against the same stubborn refusal that had persisted against her for so long, she had come to regret ever teaching Twilight how to use a datapad.

‘I never should have copied those into a datapad for her,’ she thought wearily. Belatedly, she realised Twilight had already launched into the same defense as ever.

“-learn so much from the past. There’s so much wisdom that can be found there, compared to what the people of today have. Everything you’ve told me about the galaxy, about how the Empire warps and destroys history to suit its needs, just shows that everything we learn from it is a blow to the dark side!”

The Jedi shook her head, her mane of hair sending a flash of multi-hued light through the room. “The past can teach us much, I’ve never denied that, but tomorrow is only useful if we don’t lose our grip on today. You need friends, and you won’t find them in tales of the jedi of old or the era of the Republic.”

Already, she could see Twilight gearing up to disagree, and forestalled her with a gesture. Familiar with her teacher’s manners, Twilight fell silent. Sullenly silent, but silent nonetheless.

“I know I can’t convince you right now, Twilight, but just remember what I’ve said. Please?” Celestia asked, a faint note of sorrow slipping into her request against her will. “Just promise me you’ll remember what I’ve said, no matter what happens in the future. Friends are important.”

Confusion played across Twilight’s face, but she nodded. “Y-yes, of course I’ll remember.” She hesitated, then went on, “It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’re saying, it’s just… hard. Besides, I have Spike, and you, and Shining.”

Celestia watched realisation fill Twilight’s eyes, growing into a open-mouthed stare of shock. She was, of course, far too kind and disciplined to be amused by this. Such pettiness had no place in her heart. That said, she couldn’t deny the faintest urge to laugh at the comical expression.

“Shining! I forgot to say goodbye to him!” Twilight cried. Her voice rose an octave, and she spun away. The tabard-cloth of her violet body suit, the very gift she had been given for this journey, snapped between her legs with the force of her turn, and flowed back as she charged towards the door, reaching for it before she was two steps away from where she started. “I’ll be back really soon, I need to-”

She lost track of her own words, largely because the door started to open and she realised, too late, that her intentions to rush out were about to come up against someone else’s intentions to come in. Twilight was a bright girl, and in the instant she had, she had little trouble working out they couldn’t both succeed. In fact, she was pretty sure neither of them would. She had a moment to see familiar patterns of white before she slammed against it. She was stumbling back, rebounding from the wall that had filled the door, a moment later.

“Going somewhere, Twily?” 

Her stumbling came to a dead stop, strong hands catching her by the wrists and pulling her up. She blinked, and a face to match the voice swam into focus. “S-Shining?”

“Who else?” said Shining Armour as he smiled, a faintly amused edge to it as he held her up. The thin lines of his facial marks wrinkled around the expression, and he chuckled as her face turned red. “Lucky it was me coming in.”

Collecting herself, Twilight pulled away and scowled. “If you hadn’t been coming in, I wouldn’t have run into anyone,” she pointed out.

“I guess, but you seemed to be in a rush. Why might that be?” His eyes twinkling with mischief, Shining laughed when she huffed and looked away. He nodded over her at Celestia, and she returned it with a small, sad smile.

“...I...I was coming to say goodbye,” grumbled Twilight, crossing her arms and trying to will the blush from her cheeks.’How could I forget to say goodbye to my own brother? I’m such a terrible sister!’ She found her thoughts disrupted by a sudden pull, until she was pressed between his arm and the rigidly barred, flexible plate of durasteel alloy. 

“Good thing I expected that. You really thought I’d let you two go off on your first trip off-planet without wishing you well in person?” He grinned down at her, and hugged her. Her arms snacked around him, returning the hug.

“We’re not keeping you from training or anything, right?” Spike asked, his thought-voice undisturbed by the way he ripped into another kas nut.

Twilight pulled back, and frowned as she ran her hand drown the armour. “I’m sorry to disrupt your schedule like this, I really meant to come by and say goodbye,” she said apologetically.

He shrugged, and shook his head. “Don’t worry, Twily. The training can wait, just a little spar with the militia. Gotta keep sharp, with the veil finally gone.”

If she noticed the strain in his voice, she didn’t say anything. Her gaze was focused on his armour, plate of light durasteel alloy coated in plastoid fibers.that gave each plate ridges. Like so many unique trinkets and devices, she knew it had come from Celestia’s workshop. Not for the first time, Twilight wished she knew how her teacher could make such things.

‘We can’t even import things…’ She smiled, stepping back just in time for Spike to leap onto Shining. ‘Until now! Oh, there must be so many books and so much research just waiting for me to read it!’

Celestia’s voice cut through her musing.

“If you want to come with us, we can go now,” said the Jedi. She gestured, and Shining had but a moment to release Spike before Twilight’s bag flew up to him. “There’s no time like the present, and I’m sure you’re both eager to start your adventure.”

“We’re just visiting the next system. It’s not an adventure until we go even further!” Spike sent excitedly, grinning from his reclaimed perch on Twilight’s shoulders. “So, maybe we could check out a few other systems?”

Twilight gave a firm shake of her head. “We’re going to Aplia, and that’s it,” she said sternly. “We can’t even begin to think about actually going further until we know what’s waiting for us. If I can access the holonet, we can even come right back.”

Over Twilight’s head, Celestia’s eyes met Shining’s. It lasted a moment, and Shining brought it with an uncomfortable shrug. He hefted the bag and tried to smile, though it trembled for a moment before solidifying.

“Come on, let’s get going. The sooner we get there, the sooner you two have your chance to experience the galaxy.”

Claiming a satchel, Celestia paused and glanced around the room, as if trying to memorise it and the three who were as children to her in it. Brushing something small and wet from the edge of her eye, she followed, and left her home behind.

*

In the darkness between stars, her eyes snapped open and a victorious hiss rang from wall to wall. Durasteel creaked, fighting the invisible push that strained its limits. Distant stars stared at her, and she smiled at them as the intercom dinged.

“Please excuse my interruption, My Lady,” came the captain’s voice. If the fear she had instilled in him remained, it was well hidden, and she didn’t bother to reach for his mind to check. “We’re beginning the run to hyperspace. We should arrive at the target in under an hour.”

Licking her lips, she nodded, then said aloud, “Good. Was there any sign of the hyperspace veil?”

“None, My Lady. The local Imperial system’s comm traffic suggests hyperspace routes have become less fraught in the past week, and there seems to be some confusion about a local navigational danger no longer complicating routes.” The captain paused for only a moment, before added, “We have detected only a few vessels in range to detect us on their sensors since arrival. I have had their sensor readings and transponders recorded, should you desire their silence once our primary objective has been achieved.”

Despite herself, she nodded again. “I approve, but what if I wanted them silenced now?” she asked, eyes narrowing dangerously.

His reply came back immediately, and she found herself pleased at his answer. “Our pilots are ready to deploy, and I am confident they could reach and destroy such simple vessels as a light freighter and a cargo hauler with ease.”

“That will not be needed. Your diligence has been noted, captain.” Now she did reach out, and his relief brought a dark amusement to her. “Have a message sent to the backwater’s governor. If any of them begin to talk about us, he is to crack down on them. Let him think he is important and useful.”

“At once. It is my honour serve, My Lady.”

Staring out once more, her gaze not on the stars but the blackness between them, she dismissed these materials matters from her mind. “Then go about your duty. I will join you when we arrive.”

Her intercom, already battered and cracked, fell silent. Across the ship, she felt the sudden burst of purpose and focus as the captain announced their hyperspace jump. Her mouth once more curved into a smile, savage and hungry, the smile of a long starved predator at last in sight of its prey.

The stars stretched before her into a twisting tunnel of light, and as the Eternal Night leapt free of realspace, she whispered, “I have you now, sister.”

*

Twilight gazed upon the vessel that would carry her across the stars, and really tried very hard to be impressed. It was...old. Clearly. She peered at a patch of slapdash paint, distinct grey against discoloured old red, and wondered if it covered some dent or...something. Whatever was wrong with starships that you hid with paint.

“We’re taking the Starchaser?” She tried so hard, but after so long, she still couldn’t muster excitement over the rather ramshackle starfighter. The only hyperspace-capable ship they had it might be, but familiarity has long since stolen away any awe over it.

Patting its side, Celestia ran a critical eye over it. “It took me some time to repair it after it broke down, but it’s better than it was, I promise. The hyperdrive works again, and its systems are working without a problem. It’s lost most of its weapons since its militia days, but it should see you to Aplia.”

“And back,” added Spike, though a note of doubt lingered in his projected voice. “Probably.”

“You’ll be fine. I made sure to test it myself,” Shining said, patting its side. “At least, when Master Celestia wasn’t doing it. After that crash...” They all winced at the memory, and Shining rubbed his arm at a ghost of an ache. “...which was out of my control, I want to remind everyone.”

Nodding, Twilight gave her brother a skeptical look, then her mentor a grateful smile. “I know. I don’t mean to be ungrateful. I’ve practiced in it enough, it should be absolutely fine. I’ll take good care of it.”

“Starchasers are old, of course, but I would never leave you without a way to protect yourself. Short though your trip is, Twilight, the galaxy is a large, dangerous place.” Walking around the ship, Celestia trailed her hand across the casing of its blasters, staring into the barrel with the smallest of frowns. “No one can ever predict everything, no matter how wise or powerful they seem to be. You must always be prepared to adapt, to change your plans.”

“...Master? I’m just going one system away,” said Twilight, brow furrowing as she watched the elder Jedi pace the Starchaser. She tried to give her teacher a reassuring smile, though even she saw that whatever burden Celestia carried, no smile could wipe away. “We’ll be back before you know it, right Spike?”

“Right! You’ll hardly know we weren’t here,” agreed the little space dragon, a draconic grin on his face.

Celestia shook her head, strange hair catching the light and casting it in bright hues. “Few plans survive contact with the enemy. No matter how short or simple your task, be wary. Be prepared. Be willing to change and react, lest the tide of events swell beyond your control.”

Twilight blinked, staring uncertainly at her teacher. She nodded weakly, glancing at her brother out of the corner of her eye. He shrugged, offering her a strange look she couldn’t quite put a name to.

“Spike,” said Celestia, reaching out to him. When he leapt over, ignoring her hands to settle around her shoulders, she smiled and stroked his neck. “I hope I can trust you to do the same, and keep Twilight safe.”

“Yep! Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Twilight remembers to eat, like usual.” The little space dragon gave Twilight a cheeky grin, and she scowled at him with her cheeks flaring up.

“That only happened once,” she snapped. In the face of all three of them staring at her, she faltered, and looked away. “Alright, maybe a few more...but only because those were really good books.”

“Sure it was,” Spike snickered.

“Now, Spike, Twilight hasn’t done that in quite some time,” Celestia assured them both, hiding her amusement beneath a smile. “Just keep an eye out for each other. However long or short this trip might be, I know I can trust the two of you to be there for each other.”

She walked to Twilight, and lifted Spike from her own shoulders into hers. He nuzzled the zabrak, and Twilight returned the affection.

“There’s strength in friends, more than you can imagine. So long as the two of you remember that, and remember that you will always have each other, I know you can handle anything.” Cupping Spike’s chin, and her hand on Twilight’s shoulder, Celestia smiled, and for a moment, a great weight seemed to lift from her shoulders. “You - all three of you - make me so very proud. It has been an honour to help raise you, and to see you come this far, to help bring you to the day you finally leave our little world... ”

She let a tear slip down her cheek, and leaned down to plant a motherly kiss on Twilight’s forehead, carefully avoiding the central ring of her horns, and then on Spike. From a simple touch, it became hug, an embrace where she held Twilight so tight, as if she never wanted to let go.

“Each of you is like the child I..” Her voice faltered, but she pushed on. “..like the children I’ve never had a chance for. I want you to know that, no matter what happens, I love all three of you and I always have.”

Overcome, Twilight leaned into the embrace, and Spike did his best to join in. From a few feet away, Shining’s cheeks reddened at the emotion, and the warmth their teacher’s words imparted, though he kept his face away lest sister or little brother see. He turned back a tad when Celestia looked over Twilight’s shoulder, and he knew had he been close enough she would have swept him into a hug as well.

“I….t-thank you, so much,” murmured Twilight. She had never expected such emotional for a small, even if important, trip. “I… I don’t know what to say, how to...but you mean so much to us too. We’ll remember everything you’ve taught us, I promise. We’ll come home safely.”

“Yeah. We won’t be long,” Spike added, thought-voice lingering with echoes of his own emotions. “Promise.”

Wiping away her tear, whether it was of joy or sorrow, Celestia let go after a few more moments of embrace. “I know you’ll do your best. With your best, my dear exceptional student, I hardly think the ship even needs its computer, with you to do the hyperspace calculations.”

“Of course! I’ve got the jump you planned on my datapad, and I’ve triple checked it, and calculated my own as well, quadruple checked it, just in case.” A proud smile lit Twilight’s face. A thud brought her attention back to the Starchaser, where her brother had dropped her bag in its storage compartment. “Be careful with that!”

“Wouldn’t want to break any of those redundant datacards stuffed with books,” said Spike, snickering from her shoulders. He leapt off before she could give him a swat, gliding on juvenile anti-grav organ as much as his wings, and peered into the cockpit. “It looks like everything's the same, just shinier.”

Shining nodded with a shudder. “I should hope so, I spent ages cleaning all that gunk out. That stuff got everywhere.”

A shudder took all of them, as they remembered the gunk with expressions of disgust, and Celestia reminded herself it hadn’t been selfish to get Shining to clean it. Clearly it wasn’t, because she needed her dignity and a Jedi Master - former or not - vomiting was not a dignified sight for anyone involved.

“Come on, Twily, let’s do the pre-flight checks,” said Shining, heaving himself up the ladder that laid on the Starchaser’s side. A tap had the canopy raising, and Shining chuckled at Spike’s screech of surprise. “Don’t get on if you can’t handle going up a little, Spike.”

Muffling her giggles, Twilight climbed up behind him. “I know how to do the pre-flight check, Shining. I’ve done it before.”

“Not for a few months, and the highest you’ve gone is low orbit,” he shot back. The older zabrak stepped onto one of the ship’s S-foil wings, and helped Twilight get into the cockpit. “Now, first we need to start the power-up sequence.”

“I know, I’ve done it before. You don’t have to tell me how,” Twilight said with a sigh, rolling her eyes. She narrowed her eyes when he ignored her, leaning into the cockpit and pointing just before she hit the same button.

“Good, now…” he continued, deaf to her demands that he let her do it herself. She was, after all, his little sister. 

Celestia watched them prepare, and a shiver ran across her back. She glanced at the sky, a flash of uncertainty in her eyes before she shook her head. ‘No,’ she decided. ‘Let them have this. Just for a while.’

*

The light of hyperspace was the only witness to the rustle of clothing as it fell away, leaving her bared to the other-space of faster than light travel. The artificial lights had long since broken, their cracked lenses providing no florence to add to the blue of the swirling tunnel. She didn’t look away from transparisteel screen, eyes locked on the eternally distant goal all hyperspace ships seemed to chase through the strange plane they jumped through.

In the place of her crumbled attire, a black bodysuit slipped over her figure. Skintight and dark as night, it drank in the hyperspace light as she stretched it from slender fingers to toes. Only when she was done adjusting it, even her neck perfectly clad in shadow-made material, did she flick open a wall panel and her will dragged the first piece out.

Plastoid alloy coloured such dark blue it seemed black was revealed only to her here in her sanctum, yet she savoured the sight. More, she savoured the knowledge of the sight she would make to others.

She saw herself in their minds as the first piece wrapped around her torso, it’s bindings clicking in place with the next peice to join it. Bit by bit, she clad herself until only her head was bared, and she left it that way, helmet hanging limply from one hand.

She felt it a moment before the intercom dinged, and she wasted the faintest of her attention to will the buttons on it to depress. It cackled, the first signs of abuse taking its toll, yet the voice of the Eternal Night’s captain came through clear after a moment.

“-rrive in approximately nineteen minutes, My Lady. All hands stand ready; our Defenders will deploy the instant we leave hyperspace.”

She let him linger, waiting on her answer, for a few more seconds. Much as she enjoyed his fear, she felt the detachment within him grow by the moment as they approached. He was discarding any concern but success in his mission, and she could not fault him in this. After all, it was her mission more than his.

“Very good, captain.” Raising the helmet to her face, she looked herself in the eyes one more time. “I will be joining you on the bridge soon. Have my landing craft prepared.”

“At your command.”

“Yes,” she agreed, helmet sliding smoothly into place. “And by my command, my nightmare ends today.”

For a moment, she stared at her helmed visage, and fingered the lightsaber at her belt. At last, she turned and left, the door hissing shut as she strode out to meet the destiny denied to her for seventeen long years. 

*

It took too long, and lasted not nearly long enough, all at once. The moment came at last when Celestia had to give her charges a final farewell, and when her arms wrapped around Twilight in another embrace, she held back the tears that threatened to flow.

‘No emotion, is there,’ whispered an old voice from the depth of her memory. ‘Only the Force.’

In happier times, words she had argued against. In times more terrible, words she had despaired over. Today, she found some comfort in them. Not much, but as she slipped her gift into Twilight’s pocket unnoticed, they were all she had.

Those words, and hope.

“The Force will be with you, always,” she said, and finally let go. It took more effort than she could have imagined, but still Celestia forced herself to release Twilight, and when she held Spike in her arms, and he nuzzled her neck, she wanted to hold onto him and never let go.

“I know, Master.” Twilight smiled, giving her brother a brief hug before climbing into the cockpit again. “Come on, Spike, we need to go. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming. See you soon, Master. We’ll be back before you know. Unless Twilight finds a book store, that is,” said Spike, snickering loudly. Twilight’s exasperated sigh simply urged him on.

“Be safe. And remember to check the air cycle systems every time you enter or leave atmosphere,” Shining couldn’t help but add, and was given an eyeroll in return.

With a hiss, the cockpit sealed shut over the pair, Twilight strapped in and Spike grasping her shoulders. Outside, Celestia and Shining retreated a few steps. She raised her hand over her eyes, blocking the swirling dust kicked up by the ignition of blazing sublight engines.

Twilight waved, a smile on her face. Spike’s tail waved too, until the pair outside waved back. The young zabrak reached down, out of their sight, and the response announced itself in the roar of the Starchaser’s engines. With a lurch of repulsors, the Starchaser began to rise. It’s engine thrummed with power, feeding energy through it with fresh life. Light caught in the shimmering veil that flared to life around the old starfighter until the shields faded away to provide their protection unseen.

The starfighter rose, slowly, and began to move. Speed built, and elevation followed as it curved gently into the sky. Together they watched Twilight and Spike leave, and no longer did either mask the pain.

“I need to go….I need to start the evacuation,” said Shining, forcing his gaze off the sky. He raised a hand before she could interject, adding, “I’ll activate the jammer as soon as she reaches high orbit.”

Celestia nodded, taking a breath and expelling it in a sigh that failed to expel the weight upon her with it. “Yes, indeed. Make sure everyone knows it’s only for a few days but they have to hurry. I feel her approaching even now.”

“I will.” With a last glance at the sky, Shining took a step away, but he hesitated. “...we had to do this, didn’t we? There’s no other choice?”

She closed eyes, and hide the pain in them. “Yes,” she said, words rolling off an almost numb tongue as she forced them out. “It was. And it was my plan. My choice to lead us down this path. Remember that, Shining, and remember that we’ve done the best can with what we have.”

Shining nod, though his doubt radiated through the Force. Celestia watched him go, and when she followed, her eyes were ringed by raw red.

*

The door whispered open, automatic panels drawing up instantly. It was still enough for the captain to glance over, and falter as the door unveiled the dark form of their leader. He snapped to attention, turning from the bridge to salute crisply.

“My Lady,” he intoned respectfully.

Her armoured boots rang out on the deck of the bridge, bringing the crew to attention. Her hand snapped out in a sharp gesture, and they returned their attention to their stations.

“Captain,” she returned neutrally. Her grim visor, the entire design of her helmet rendering it more pointed than a stormtrooper’s, hid whatever hint he might have gleamed from her eyes. “How long until we arrive?”

“Reversion will occur in mere minutes. I assure you, I was just about to inform you,” he hurriedly told her, gesturing at the holoscreen before him. 

She turned her hidden gaze to the yawning maw of hyperspace that swirled before them. “I am aware. I chose to come up early.” Her tone sharpened. “I do hope that isn’t a problem, is it?”

“No, of course not.” He tapped a key, reversion countdown shrinking to allow more information to flow onto the holo-screen. “I’m pleased to report we’ve encountered no difficulties. The hyperspace veil has faded entirely.”

“And we are prepared for battle?” she prompted.

The captain nodded eagerly. “All weapons are calibrated and armed, and the gunnery crew is well trained. Colonel Vessery has reported the Black Flight is ready to launch, and I have ordered him to deploy as soon as we revert.” 

From within her helmet, unseen, she watched the countdown. Every second took too long to be counted, and she fought the urge to snarl aloud. It was taking too long.

“Good. Good…” she trailed off, and something of her aggravation must have shown in her voice, for the captain retreated half a step. All she could do was stare into the depths of hyperspace, and see dancing before her mind the victory she was rushing towards.

Yet, still, it was taking too long.

*

Equus fell away, bit by bit surrendering its grip upon the Starchaser as it rose against the bonds of gravity. Twilight gripped the controls, feeling the sweat between her palm and the stick, but unable to take her hand away with cautions of accidents by slack-gripped pilots loud in her memory.

“Wow...it looks so small.”

She turned her eyes from the stars ahead to Spike, and raised an eyebrow. “What does?”

“The planet.” His tail gestured lazily towards the vista of blue and green. “Hard to believe we’re leaving for real. In a real starship. A starfighter!”

Twilight couldn’t resist rolling her eyes, and chuckling. “We’re not going to be gone for even a day, and we’re certainly not going to be using this for any sort of fight. It’s just a peaceful mission to check on the galaxy’s status.” Her chest puffed up with pride. “Master Celestia is trusting us to be discreet and safe, and bring her back the first fresh news in nearly twenty years. Imagine the advancements!”

Spike cocked his head to the side. “Er, isn’t there, like, a big evil Empire out there? I thought she said they were really bad. I don’t want any sort of advancement from them.”

“I’m positive things have improved. Maybe the Empire got better?” she suggested, tapping in numbers. Status lights flashed green, and she smiled as she fed her co-ordinates into the astrogator. “We’re going to find out soon. We’ll be able to jump any second.”

Her hand came to rest on the hyperdrive lever, curling around it. Just above it, a light flashed red, blinking insistently at them. She took a breath, recycled air flooding her lungs, and noticed… her hand was trembling.

‘We’re not going far. We’ll be back soon. So why am I…?’

Hard and small, a purple claw gently lay atop her hand. The trembling faded.

“This is kind of big so...together?” Spike asked, tail curling around her neck as he looked up at her.

Twilight smiled, and nodded.

The light turned blue, a steady cobalt glowing at them as the last visages of their home’s gravity lost its hold upon them.

“Together.”

The stars stretched, and swirled, as the Starchaser took them so far from the only home they had ever known. 

*

The stars waited with the patience of ages, content for their light to gaze upon this world until their flame guttered out or it was swallowed by its own sun. In space, the light of a galaxy shone in pinpricks of distant glory, an endless daylight within the black.

And in the space of a moment, the stars were blotted out. Not every star, of course, for no weapon of nature, science or the Force could dream such a devastation save the endless grind of entropy, but enough in that small space to make a difference.

A dagger blade of pure black cut into realspace. It hung above the lovely green-blue world, a threatening blade. An executioner’s blade.

In silence, it waited for nearly a minute until it finally came to life. Light lit the dark shape as it engines pushed it forward, and lines of colour stretched out to connect it to the world below.

For some, it was a beautiful sight. Among them, a few might have found the knowledge that each light was the discharge of weapons and each flash promised destruction

Eternal Night had come.

*