> Victor Squad: New Frontier
>  by Legofan
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1: New Frontier
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	A lone probe drifted through the vast emptiness of space.  It had lost power in its thrusters days ago, now only relying on the gravity of distant stars and planets to move itself.  It had drifted for a while now; two weeks since the Second Battle of Geonosis, if its internal clocks were calibrated correctly.  The device was far beyond its own galaxy at this point, so far in fact that it could only determine its location through measuring its angle and velocity with relation to the last known point on the Republic space grid.  Certainly, the probe was lost and had no use further than becoming a shooting star on some distant world.

Or so the Republic thought.


~~~Republic Cruiser Valiance, Outer Rim, 17 days after the Second Battle of Geonosis~~~




The bridge of the Valiance was bustling with activity.  Most of the commotion were communications officers monitoring the chatter of unprotected transmissions from neighboring outer-rim systems, but the occasional technical worker and soldier would come in to pester the commander-on-deck about some minor issue that probably didn't need his attention anyways.  At the front of it all stood a brown, towering, but thin nautolan Jedi, wearing long robes a shade darker than his own skin.  He stood there, facing the window that peered into the white-dotted nothingness of space, simultaneously drowning out the noise of his surroundings with his meditation.

"It sure wouldn't hurt to get some action around here, would it, general?"

Being addressed broke the Jedi out of his calm state, though his expression remained concrete.

"Eager to get yourself killed, are you commander?" the Jedi asked with no hint of sarcasm.

The commander shifted from attention to looking away from the Jedi, indicating his want to leave the question unanswered.  But he would not ignore his superior.  "Of course not, general, it's just that we're soldiers; we're meant to be fighting," he finally stated.

"Blip, don't think of you and your men as lowly soldiers, bred to die needlessly.  You are living entities, meant to exist beyond the battlefield.  I will not lose any of you for the purpose of alleviating boredom."

"I...I understand that, sir," Blip stuttered.  "But, in all seriousness, combat beats stressing over little details any day," he continued sarcastically.

The Jedi had to chuckle at that.  He finally opened his eyes and looked down at his commander.  "Still stubborn as always, Blip.  It's good to see that the lack of excitement hasn't dampened your sense of humor."

Blip shrugged as best as he could with his helmet in the crux of his arm before placing it on his head.  "I suppose I should get back to my oh-so-exciting job now.  Nice chat, General Poh."

"Anytime, my friend," said the general before diverting his attention back to the window.  He could see the reflection of Blip walking away, waist armor swaying slightly due to the breeze generated by his walking.




An hour or so passed in uneventfulness before one of the communications officers detected a faint signal from a Republic probe droid.  After a few minutes of tracing where the signal was sent from, the officer stood to confront his commander.

He found the commander, clad in his solid black armor, standing in front of a hologram projection table, conversing with a hologram of a technician.  He waited for the commander to finish before approaching him with his findings.

"Commander Blip, sir, I've picked up a transmission from a Republic probe.  I'm trying to trace it, but each time I do, it traces the signal to outside of our space grid."

"That's quite peculiar.  Are you sure you're doing the tracing correctly?"

"Yes sir.  But I think you should see this for yourself and report it to General Poh."

Blip agreed and followed the communications officer to his terminal, where he watched the trooper repeat his tracing procedure, receiving the same results.

"Trooper, I want you to listen to the transmission and save any data that you receive; I'm going to inform the general."

"Yes sir," said the trooper before beginning his new assignment.

General Poh was standing in the same spot as before.  This time, he was fully aware of his surroundings, and quickly turned to face Blip when he felt him coming.

"You have pressing things to tell me?" Poh asked Blip matter-of-factly.

"Uh, yes sir.  One of our comm officers has received a transmission from a Republic probe from outside of the Republic space grid.  He's listening to it right now, we'll have its data in a second."




Approximately a quarter of an hour had passed since Blip informed the general of the findings.  General Poh stood in front of the hologram projection table, which was currently showing the images of Mace Windu, Plo Koon, Ki-Adi Mundi, and Yoda.

"Poh Drüne, it is a pleasure to see you still alive," Plo Koon said.

"Indeed it is, Master Plo, but we should converse with haste.  Poh, you have important findings to tell us of?" asked Ki-Adi.

"Yes, Master Mundi, I do," Poh replied.  "One of the communications officers had detected a signal from a Republic probe, but its location was from beyond the space grid.  Blip is transferring the data given by the probe to you now."

Each Jedi gestured to Poh that they had received the data before Blip began a quick briefing.

"Now, generals, as you can see, the probe has supplied us with a few images of an enormous planet.  We could only get one clear image of the surface before the probe lost contact.  We can assume that the probe was incinerated in the planet's atmosphere before it could give us more images.  The planet's location is beyond that of the Republic space grid, indicating that it is beyond our galaxy.  The probe gave us a velocity, angle, and its last known coordinate on the Republic space grid.  Using this information, we could track down the planet."

Blip paused for a moment to allow the Jedi to take in all he had said.

"Normally, we wouldn't intervene with the going-ons of extragalactic systems, but if you take a look at this image," Blip said as he brought a blurry image up on the table, "you can see a Munificent-class Frigate in orbit around the planet."  He zoomed in on the image and set the resolution to its highest setting to prove his statement.  And sure enough, the hexagonal logo of the Confederacy of Independent Systems could be made out on the hull of the ship.  "As such, it is my recommendation that we send something to stop that vessel."

After a moments pause, Mace spoke up.  "Thank you, commander.  We can make our decision without you; go back to your duties."  And with that, Blip saluted and walked away.

"Unexpected and curious, the Separatists actions are," Yoda stated.  "Careful we must be."

"If we are to behave cautiously, then we should probably leave that ship alone and send another probe to monitor it.  Our forces are stretched thin; we cannot risk sending our troops into unchartered space," Plo announced.

There was an awkward pause before Ki-Adi spoke up. "We cannot simply ignore them.  They must have...special interest in that planet if Dooku has sent a cruiser there.  I think the best course of action would be to send some forces there to inhibit their operations, or at least find out what they're doing."

"I must agree with Master Mundi," said Mace.  "We need to be aware of our enemy's intentions with that planet, and intervene if necessary-"

"Which we most likely will," interrupted Ki-Adi.

Mace ignored the interruption.  "We should investigate as soon as possible.  Poh, your fleet is the closest, so you should follow the probe's directions and stop the Separatists.  Obi-Wan's fleet is not in combat, so his ships could replace yours while you do this."

Plo and Ki-Adi stated their agreements.

"It is decided then.  Go, you will, to this new planet, and find out what the Separatists have found," Yoda said to Poh.  "And may the Force be with you."  The others said the same, drawing the meeting to an end.  Poh strode away from the now deactivated table towards the window, where he could usually be found.  He felt unsure of what to make of his orders; sure he wanted to stop the Separatists, but he didn't want to send his men into the inevitable battle that would come of their arrival.  After all, his troops were designated to monitor transmissions, not to fight.

"Something troubling you, sir?" Poh heard Blip say behind him.  How had Poh not felt him approach?  That was a question for later; right now, he needed to confide in his commander.

"Commander, it looks like you'll be getting your action fix after all."  Despite being completely armored, Poh could still almost see Blip grin in anticipation.  "Tell me, how well do the men on this ship do in combat?"

Blip took a second to formulate his response.  "General, even the men who get assigned to more...technical fields...go through basic training, and are still worth two to three B1's each.  And the Valiance is worth at least three of whatever piece of crap cruisers the CIS can throw at us.  There's only one of those, however, so we've got no worries."

Poh stood still, staring out the window for another minute, contemplating the reassurance he had just received.  He turned to Blip, the black orbs of his eyes showing his calm determination to the commander.

"Blip, have our path prepared as soon as possible, and  ready the men for quick and swift victory."

"Yes sir!" Blip declared enthusiastically while saluting.  He quickly turned and began shouting the orders to prepare the ship for flight.  Poh looked back to the window, smiling, suddenly realizing how anxious he was for the upcoming skirmish.


~~~Republic Cruiser Valiance, Unchartered Space, 18 days after the Second Battle of Geonosis~~~




The view of the galaxy was breathtaking.  Even the resolute troopers on the outer halls, who had places to be and things to do as soon as possible, had to stop and admire the galaxy.  Their galaxy.

Blip stood silent as he stared at the elliptical, glowing mass in front of him.  He felt relaxed, and felt the stresses of being a commanding officer melt away as he stared out the window towards the galaxy.  This is what he was fighting for, he realized.  The galaxy needed to be preserved, and the Republic would be the ones to do it.  He would not let the Separatists degrade his beautiful collection of stars and planets.  With renewed vigor and sense of purpose, he turned away to return to his job.

The Valiance had been moving for a few hours now.  They would be at the location given by the probe in a couple hours, which annoyed Blip; since they could have been there an hour ago had they jumped to hyperspace.  The reasoning against it was sound, though. Hyperspace travel was dangerous even on known routes; doing so outside of the galaxy with no knowledge of what lies ahead would be almost guaranteed suicide.  They also needed to plot their route so that the Republic could follow them later and get to the new planet.

New planet.  It dawned on Blip that he was a part of the first group of clones to explore new planets outside of his galaxy.  He felt very important at that moment; there seemed like nothing that could dampen his mood...except for the realization that he had a tendency to jinx himself.  Right on cue, a technical worker approached him about an almost insignificant problem with the hyperdrive that really needed none of his jurisdiction in the first place.

With the hyperdrive issue sorted out and a little less that an hour and fifteen minutes until they arrived at the last known location of the probe, Blip decided to chat with General Poh.  He made his way to the bridge and found that...Poh wasn't there?  Odd; he was almost always there at this time.  Confused, Blip asked the captain overseeing the bridge where Poh was, and was told that he had excused himself to his cabin due to a sudden throbbing pain in his head.

Blip decided that now it would be best to check on General Poh and do what he can to help alleviate his condition.  He made it to Poh's cabin with an hour left until the ship reached its destination.  As Blip approached the door to Poh's cabin to knock, it suddenly opened, confusing him.  I thought the door to Jedi cabins only opened for them from the outside?

"Please, come in and talk, commander," Blip heard Poh say from inside the cabin.  Blip entered the small room.  He was surprised by how small it was.  It appeared to only be able to house four or five standard sized bunks, though, of course, it didn't.  It had one bunk in the far right corner, where Poh was seated, meditating, and had a closet in the opposite corner.  It had no other distinguishing features, except for the elevated ceiling to accommodate the general's six foot seven frame.  The general was certainly a giant amongst nautolans.

"Uh, yes, sir..." Blip stammered and removed his helmet.  "I was just coming to check on you.  You weren't on the bridge like you normally are at this time, and when I heard you were hurting, I wanted to make sure you were doing, uhm..., well..."

"I appreciate your concern, commander," Poh said, interrupting Blip's train of thought.  "I must admit, I don't know how I'm feeling.  It feels complicated; I think you'd need an open mind and knowledge of the Force to understand it."

"Knowledge of the Force?" Blip repeated, making sure he heard Poh correctly.  His question was met with a nod.  "I'm no Jedi, so I can't help you there, but I have more medical knowledge than you, so maybe you should try telling me how you're feeling so we can determine whether or not you need medical attention.  I'll try to understand as best as I can."

Poh smiled, but otherwise remained motionless.  "Blip, this is why I've always liked you.  Despite you're insistence on getting shot at, you still care about life, and you're much more open-minded than your brethren.  Were you aware that most clones ignore and avoid conversation about the Force?"

"Thanks sir.  Yes, I'm aware that my brothers have a disposition towards the Force.  I'm not fond of it myself, but if I'm to understand how the Jedi and Sith fight, I'm willing to talk about it.  However, I think you should tell me what you're feeling so we can help you."

"I told the captain on the deck that my head was throbbing.  This is only partly true.  While yes, my head is hurting; it's my connection to the Force that concerns me.  Pain in general, but more specifically to the head, will reduce a Jedi's connection to the Force, for pain makes it more difficult for a Jedi to feel it flowing and control it."

Blip nodded slowly, not saying anything, but clearly displayed confusion on his face.

"Allow me to provide an example.  I've had headaches like this before, usually after a large blow to the head, and felt unable to sense living things unless they were close by.  So normally, I would have only known you were approaching my cabin once you were close, and then I would have struggled to open the door for you."

Blip remained silent, but understood the general's point.

"This is not the case," Poh continued.  "While I am still hurting, I can feel my connection to the force grow stronger.  To continue my example, I could feel your concern for my well-being as soon as you were told where I had gone.  It is...unnatural."

"But sir, isn't it a Jedi's goal to connect to the Force as best as possible?  Why is this an issue?" asked Blip.

"Because I have not trained myself for this level of connection.  I have not grown in the Force, which is a Jedi's objective.  This is sudden; too sudden.  It is causing me pain.  And it is increasing as we move forward.  The Force is highly present wherever we are going."

"I...I believe I understand sir.  Sadly, I do not think there is much we can do without turning back, which is against our directive.  Can you withstand the pain?"

"For now, yes.  I want you to stay with me.  I will try to let you know when I cannot bear it, and when I do, put me under.  It is risky to let the Force flow through me without control."

"I will, sir," said Blip.  And for the next half hour, they sat without speaking.  Blip could tell that Poh was struggling to control his pain and, apparently, the Force.  The general's eyes shut tighter, and the creases around his eyes grew thicker as time passed.  Blip had to admire his general's ability to stay still and meditate in spite of the pressure he was under.




Five minutes until the destination was reached.  Blip stood where Poh usually did, and stared out at the planet now visible and increasing in size.  Despite the distance from the planet, the reflection of it off of his visor was still sizeable, covering almost a quarter of it.

Poh had cracked under the pain a few minutes prior, so staying in his cabin seemed useless, especially since their objective was so close.  Blip had never led a mission, though.  He could fight, sure, but he wasn't sure how he would handle calling all of the shots.  He sighed before turning around to face his crew, now clad in armor instead of their officer uniforms.

Blip marched to his navigation team.  "Get us within firing range of the planet's surface.  I want to be able to bombard any facilities the CIS might have down there."

The team acknowledged his request and set about determining the best altitude for them to drift at.




The planet was massive; it had to be at least three times the size of Coruscant.  Blip sighed again as he realized that he could not scour a planet that size with one cruiser whose occupants were primarily communications and technical officers and without causing damage to the sedated Jedi.  Way to plan ahead, he thought.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded.  "We've got Seps on our tail!" someone shouted.  Blip was about to begin issuing commands when a Separatist cruiser ended a hyperspace jump in front of them.  They were being ambushed.  They were unprepared.  Blip's morale was decimated.


~~~Separatist Frigate Superior, Orbit of Extragalactic Planet-01 (EGP-01), 17 days after the Second Battle of Geonosis~~~




General Grievous observed the crew of his frigate as they worked.  He stood tall and still, only moving his head to watch a different set of droids work on their task.  They were surprisingly efficient when tasked with non-combat related roles; something that irked the general.  But he was glad at that moment to have such effective workers.  They needed no food, no rest, no restroom breaks, and didn't need to talk to communicate.  The absence of such trivial distractions made the process of observing and mapping the planet near him a quick process.  And the faster he could have the planet mapped, the faster he could return to the war.

No, he shouldn't think about the war.  Thinking about the war caused his thoughts to turn to the Jedi, the foul scum that betrayed his people.  And thinking of his people made him irritable, impatient, and aggressive, all of which was detrimental to progress...under normal circumstances.

Grievous was fuming when he was assigned a reconnaissance mission, but he would still comply.  Strangely, he found himself calming down and his mood improving the closer he got to the planet.  He felt quite different, but he couldn't say he disliked how he felt.  He attributed this to his excitement about being the first to explore this planet and to how rapidly the mission was being accomplished.

Grievous let his thoughts wander like this for a few minute before deciding that it was time to get a progress report.  He walked up to the droid who was overseeing the operation and demanded one.

"Probes one through eight have no new updates.  We've lost probe 10, it was attacked by what appeared to be a large reptile.  Probes eleven and twelve have no new updates.  Probe thirteen is still not transmitting.  Probe fourteen has located a new settlement and is currently heading to it.  Probe fifteen is still destroyed.  Frigates Mighty and Fracture have nothing to report."

Grievous grunted his acknowledgement of the report and was midway through turning around when the droid spoke up again.

"We have also detected an anomaly."

Grievous turned to face the droid again and stared at it inquisitively.

"We intercepted a transmission from what we have determined to be a Republic probe droid in the vicinity.  Probe nine had confirmed it; our probe saw its combustion in the planet's atmosphere at the time we were intercepting the transmission.  We managed to obtain two pieces of data from the intercepted transmission: an image of our frigate orbiting the planet and the location of the transmission's original recipient; a Republic cruiser located in the outer rim."

"Very good, commander," Grievous commented.  "I will consult with Count Dooku and determine our next move."  He turned from the droid without interruption and headed for his chambers.  Once there, he activated his hologram projection table and made to contact Dooku.

A response came about five minutes later.  Grievous bowed slightly as Dooku said, "You should know better than to interrupt me during my meditation, General."  The aggravated expression on his face showed that he wanted to end the conversation quickly.

The general looked up to the hologram of Dooku.  "Indeed I do, but I have important information.  A Republic probe has exposed our operation here.  I am certain that they will respond."

"Good.  The Republic is acting predictable as always.  They will come soon, Grievous.  You know what to do.  Try to leave their vessel as intact as possible."

Grievous perked up at Dooku's last statement.

"You must trust me on this, General.  You are to meet with the planet's leader as soon as the Republic is dealt with, and that is much easier without a hailstorm of wrecked ship falling to the surface.  You have determined the leader of the planet, haven't you?"

"The planet has no distinct leader, Count, but I have found the one who holds the most influence on the world, and I will meet with her after the Republic forces are destroyed."

Dooku's expression remained unchanged, though his voice clearly conveyed his satisfaction.  "Good.  I expect to hear of your success soon."  And with that, Dooku ended the conversation.

Grievous had his orders.  He was going to enjoy himself.


~~~Separatist Frigate Superior, Orbit of EGP-01, 18 days after the Second Battle of Geonosis~~~




The trap was a simple one, really.  Once the Republic ships arrived, Fracture would jump behind them and Mighty would jump in front, and hopefully the ambush would prevent the Republic from launching any fighters to combat the boarding team that Grievous had assembled.  Grievous was certain of his victory; the ambush should quickly destroy one or two of the Republic cruisers, then their overpowering numbers would take out the remaining ones.  This was all theoretical, of course, but Grievous’s spirits were high.

Superior got into position to launch the boarding ships while Mighty and Fracture confirmed that they were in position.  It wouldn't be long now.




Two hours later, Superior's scanners found a Republic vessel.  It came from the predicted direction and was moving slow; Grievous had quite the advantage now.

Then it dawned on him.  Only one cruiser?  The Republic usually sends them in groups of two to four.  This may be a trap...

It was a risk worth taking; at least he was out of the Republic's range, so he could retreat if things went awry.  "Fracture, spring the trap.  Aim ion cannons towards their hyperdrive and their thrusters, refrain from firing main weapons until fired upon.  Mighty, launch.  Concentrate your cannon-fire at the bridge, try to disable their guns with you ion cannons," Grievous commanded via radio.

A couple of moments later, Fracture and Mighty had jumped to surround the Republic vessel and began the assault.  The Republic must not have has their shields up, Grievous assed, for it was obvious that the ion cannons were crippling the ship rapidly.  Sadly, the bridge remained intact.  Several seconds later, Grievous could tell that the Republic had finally put up their shields and began retaliating, to little effect.

"The Republic ship's thrusters are completely dead, sir," a droid reported.

"Good.  Redirect all fire to their weapon systems and escape pods; the boarding team will take out the crew."  With that order, Grievous turned to enter his ship.


~~~Republic Cruiser Valiance, Orbit of Unknown Planet, 18 days after the Second Battle of Geonosis~~~




Blip stood on the bridge, gripping the table in front of him tightly as explosions rocked the cruiser.  How had the Separatists known we were coming, and how did I not prepare for an ambush like this?  His thoughts were interrupted by another explosion near the base of the bridge.

The shields were now up and some of the batteries were returning fire, but the ambush left the thrusters useless and almost half of the guns out of commission.  The shakings ceased somewhat as Blip noticed that the enemies were firing at his guns.  This confused Blip.  If the Separatists wanted them dead, they could have done so in a matter of minutes by continuing fire on the thrusters.  No, they wanted the ship intact...they wanted something on the ship.

"Captain," Blip said as another explosion caused the bridge to move violently.  "I need all of the data on this ship sent to Coruscant and removed from all of the hard drives immediately!"

"Yes, sir," the captain replied.  He stayed where he was, however, looking at something distant that Blip couldn’t make out.  "Are those boarding craft?" the captain asked after a few seconds of consideration.  Blip remained silent and watched the suspicious objects get closer.  After several seconds, he could determine that they were, indeed, boarding craft.

"Captain, get working on that data now!" demanded Blip.  "I'm going to take as many men as I can find to stop the intruders.  Work diligently."

"Yes, sir.  Good luck, sir," the captain said as he went to the master terminal to begin is assignment.




The boarding craft were making good time.  By Grievous's calculations, they would be at the Republic ship in a couple of minutes.  He had five ships heading for the Republic; there were six originally, but one was blasted to bits by Republic guns.  

CRASH!

That was signal that meant he had hit is mark.  The craft opened up into a hallway, quite the lucky landing spot unless an ambush was waiting there.  Grievous confirmed this false when a commando droid leapt from the craft to face no resistance.

The commando droid signaled that it was all clear, and Grievous let the other nine commandos with him leave before he left himself.  There were no clones nor any signs of them around, leaving Grievous without a heading.  Grievous felt a tug to his right, but saw nothing there.  He couldn't explain the feeling, but felt that it might be worth his while to follow that direction.

Grievous walked at a mild pace while the commando droids surrounding him ran ahead and checked each room that they passed, which was few in number.  He continued his stroll for a few minutes, avoiding debris and the occasional explosion before finally hearing the sounds of combat around the corner.  Upon hearing this, he activated one of his lightsabers and equipped his pistol, and prepared himself for the upcoming skirmish.  He turned the corner to find three battle droids and a super battle droid taking fire from a small group of clones.  One of the clones in the back of the group was wearing solid black armor as well as waist armor and a pauldron, and was leaning around the corner periodically to fire his weapon at the droids.  Grievous determined him to be the commander.

Grievous immediately started walking towards the clones, spinning his blue blade in a circular motion at dizzying speeds while shooting at the clones with his pistol.  He strode closer to the clones in slow, menacing steps, lightsaber acting as a shield while he took careful aim at the clones foolish enough to not take cover.  He fired slowly, but accurately, acquiring three headshots with his first three attacks.

He had covered half the distance between his droids and the group of clones before a clone primed a grenade and shouted "Droid-popper out!"  The clone raised his arm to throw the grenade, but was shot in the chest while doing so, dropping it amidst his allies.  "Get back!" another clone, presumably the black one, shouted, and the clones attempted to flee from the grenade.  Three clones were caught in the blast radius, forcing their helmets to remain sealed on their head, with their breathing filters no longer operating, dooming them to death by asphyxiation.

Just as Grievous was about to continue his advance, a group of about twenty clones filed around a distant corner to confront him and his droids.  The commando droids around him were about to open fire, but Grievous signaled them to hold.  Grievous felt like severing a lot of limbs, and this was the opportunity to get his fix fixed.  He stowed away his pistol and retrieved another lightsaber from his waist.  The green blade shot to life as he readied himself to charge at the oncoming clones.

He sprinted as soon as the first few clones reached the corner where the remnants of the first group of clones were taking cover.  His impromptu shield kept spinning at a quick and steady rate as he brought his green blade low.  Upon reaching the first clone, he raised his blue lightsaber, spun and uppercutted with the green one, slicing the clone's chest.  He followed the move up by swinging both his lightsabers in circles, angled in a way to cover his entire being.  Grievous remained in this defensive stance as he separated his arms.  After brandishing two more lightsabers, each one with a blue blade, he leapt into the group of clones.  None stood a chance; limbs littered the ground at his feet.




Blip stood behind a corner waiting for the enemy's fire to falter before attacking again.  He and the eight or so clones around him had been at this for a few minutes now, and had taken down most of the droids at the end of the corridor.  Three battle droids and one super battle droid remained.  There was a subtle hissing sound that came from the other end of the hallway, but Blip dismissed it as another one of his ship's systems failing.  Finally, the droids' fire let up, allowing him to lean around the corner and fire at the cyborg heading his direction...Oh crap!  Grievous!

This was an unexpected turn of events.  He had heard stories of this beast in combat, and had always wanted to see him fight.  Now is my chance, I suppose.

The general was slowly approaching the Republic forces.  The clone across the hall from Blip decided to try using an EMP grenade on him.  Blip watched the clone prepare to throw the grenade, only to be shot dead immediately after raising his arm.  Blip was unsure of whether or not an EMP would affect his armor or not, but he was not willing to take a chance with that.  Apparently, neither were the rest of the clones around him, but three didn't make it.  On the bright side, Blip learned that being EMP'd in your armor will kill you...slowly...and probably painfully.  Blip returned to the corner he had been at a few seconds earlier, and noted that he and one other trooper were the only ones in the hall to oppose the droid general.

Miraculously, Blip could hear the footsteps of a significant number of reinforcements approaching.  Not long after, he could see his allies shooting in Grievous's direction.  Oddly, there was no return fire.  Did they take the general by surprise?  His query was answered when he saw a corpse drop next to him, chest sliced from waist to shoulder.  A second later, Grievous was in the center of the group of clones, four glowing blades of death swinging everywhere at once. 

Blip couldn’t move.	 This was the most horrifying thing to witness.  Never before had he seen something go through so many clones so quickly, mercilessly, and effortlessly.  His view was directed to the floor of the corridor, which had been clear of too much refuse just a minute before.  Now, it was littered with a mosaic of fragments of his brothers.  He could run, but there was no point.  Blip stood still, accepting his fate.




Much to Grievous's chargin, those clones provided to be no challenge at all.  Not that he was surprised; a being with superior speed, agility, and reflexes such as himself in a tight corridor with four lightsabers was certain to give his opponents almost no chance, but he hadn't even received a glancing blow.  It had been a little more than a minute since the Republic reinforcements had arrived, and already their entrails were covering the floor and walls of the hall.  His attention was diverted to a lone figure standing in the hall perpendicular to the one he was in; it was the same black-clad trooper from before.  Grievous could tell that he had given up, a wise decision in the general's opinion.

"You win, general,” the clone said, dropping his weapons and putting his arms up.  "We surrender.  Give me your demands, kill me if you want, but spare my men."

Grievous considered him for a moment before replying "Very well."  He deactivated and replaced his lightsabers before proceeding.  "I want you to take me to your Jedi general.  That is all."




The medical facility was incredibly intact, despite the beating that the ship had endured, which had ceased since his surrender.  There was only one live patient in the facility; General Poh.  He was resting on a bunk with an IV pumping sedatives into his system.  He had been out like this for a while, and was blissfully unaware of the chaos that now surrounded him. 

"Here he is, Grievous.  Now, with regards to my m-" Blip was cut off by a green shaft of light penetrating his back and out of his chest.

"Your services are no longer needed, commander, and your crew is doomed," Grievous said as he withdrew his blade, Blip's corpse slumping to the floor with a solid thump.  "Search the rest of the ship; kill any survivors, clone and droid alike.  Take as much intel as you can from the bridge.  I'll deal with the Jedi," he commanded to this droid escort, which now consisted of almost fifteen commando droids, ten battle droids, a couple super battle droids, and six magna guards.

The members of his escort turned to leave, but looked back to the sedated Jedi as his arm rose.  Grievous was surprised to seen this, so decided to observe the Jedi before executing him.  He watched as the Jedi's arm slowly extended completely above him, palm flat and facing the ceiling.  One of the magna guards began to rise slowly, stopping after being elevated around three feet.  The Jedi's hand suddenly clenched into a fist, and the magna guard just as suddenly crumpled into a small mass of metal.  The once magna guard continued to compress, smaller than what seemed physically possible.  It was then that Grievous noticed that the metal was actually beginning to melt due to heat generated by the intense pressure of whatever force was squeezing it.

Grievous had seen enough.  He sauntered over to the Jedi, and looked into his still unconscious face.  This was indeed a freak occurrence, but he'd have to confront Dooku about it later; currently, he had a trophy to acquire.




The bridge was silent except for the frantic button pressing of the lone occupant; a clone in black-streaked armor who sat at a terminal.  He had been working more slowly than he would have liked, probably due to the jarring explosions that were rocking the ship.  He was surprised that he became more nervous and slow when the enemy stopped firing.  He knew that something was wrong; the ship felt empty.  He couldn't help but feel that he had lost too many brothers in the surprisingly quick battle that had ensued.

But that isn't important right now, he mentally scolded himself.  I still have an important job to do and don't need these distractions.  A couple minutes passed before the clone sighed a sigh of relief.  He had finally finished transferring all of the ships information out of the ship and purged all of its hard drives.

And not a moment too soon.

He drew his weapon as he heard the elevator door to the bridge open and saw two commando droids leap out.   They were upon him immediately, and before he could react, he had taken a hit to the leg and a hit to the chest.  He slumped his back against the terminal, taking quick, short breaths, knowing they would be his last.  The commando droids walked up to him, scanning his vitals to determine if he was just another casualty suffered.

Using the last of his strength, the clone stood and tackled the droid in front of him, using the droid to propel himself towards the distress signal.  A shot was fired, and the clone's corpse flew into the terminal, pressing every button on it.

His sacrifice was not in vain.


~~~Separatist Frigate Superior, Orbit of IGP-01, 20 days after the Second Battle of Geonosis~~~




Grievous was ecstatic about his overwhelming victory.  Even Dooku was impressed at how efficiently Grievous had handled the operation.  Even more impressive was how well his units stood up to the test.  There were only a few dozen casualties, most of which were useless B1's anyways.

And now it was time for the second phase of Dooku's plan.  Grievous watched as droids reorganized the shuttle, which was to ferry him to the planet's surface.  It would be a couple hours more until he would get his opportunity to leave; it was still being unloaded of sets of clone armor and, disturbingly, an equal number of clone corpses, which had been commandeered for later use.  Or so Dooku had informed Grievous.  He was unsure of what to make of such...grotesque measures, but he would not argue.


~~~Separatist Shuttle Inheritor, Atmosphere of IGP-01, 6 hours after the Ambush at IGP-01~~~




The planet was beautiful...or at least would be to Grievous if he cared for that stuff.  Large forests occupied most of the land that passed underneath the shuttle, but the occasional calm lake and slow moving river would show up amongst the trees, reflecting the bright midday sun.  The land was certainly luscious and plentiful, good features for a planet to have when one wishes to occupy it.  Not that Grievous wanted to occupy the planet; in fact, he had very little idea where Dooku was taking his plot, but being Dooku's apprentice, Grievous was forced to comply.

Down below, the forest began shifting from a bright shade of green to a darker one, and the trees became fuller.  From his location in the cockpit, the ground was not visible underneath the canopy.  He couldn't imagine that there is a lot of light in that forest, which may explain why his probes had observed the world's inhabitants to avoid it and create rumors about it.  But this was not important, for Grievous's destination was finally in view.

The mountain was the tallest landmark that the probes had found in the region, and it was also the resting place of the regions capital.  His research had determined that the city was called 'Canterlot'.  Grievous had to admire how strategically well built the fortress-city was; it occupied the highest point for miles around and seemed well fortified, at least for this civilization's level of technological advancement.

Canterlot was fast approaching, and thus came the difficult task of landing and requesting an audience with their leader without causing panic.  Grievous determined that the best way to do this would be to simply be straightforward with his presence and intentions.  Grievous's co-pilot located a large, horizontal patch on the side of the mountain opposite of Canterlot after Grievous shared his thoughts with it, and he figured it was the best place to land since he had seen no other alternatives.  After landing, Grievous stepped onto the solid ground and looked over his forces: two magna guards, one droid commando captain, and four droid commandos, one of which was to stay with the vehicle.

The group began their hike around the mountain, which turned out to be surprisingly easy, despite the mountain's steep slope.  After walking for around twenty minutes, the main gate to Canterlot came into view.  It was a massive stone structure, probably 60 to 70 feet high; complete with large wooden doors, battlements and catwalks on top, and two noble looking guards...who were ponies...with tiny spears.

Grievous didn't know what to make of them.  He had know that this civilization was underdeveloped, and he had thought that he was okay with that, but seeing the two guards, standing tall and proud with their useless play-things, with his own eyes was really different.  They looked more pathetic than he expected, and was tempted to laugh his first sincere and geuine laugh in a long while.

Finally composing himself, Grievous stood up and marched towards the guards, standing at his full height, arms swaying at his sides, ready to grab his pistol should the guards react violently.  Not hat they could hurt him if they did.

"Halt, uhm, who goes there...?" one of the guards said shakily as they raised their spears at his towering frame.  Grievous was easily twice their height when standing with proper posture like he was now, one of the many features that he used to strike fear into his opposers, like the guards before him.  He couldn't tell if the guard had made a demand or had asked him a question, so he settled on replying with "I am Grievous, and I need an audience with your princesses immediately."

After agreeing to relinquish he and his company's weapons to the guards, they, as well as a few other guards who found interest in the scene, where headed to the throne room of the castle.  Phase two of Dooku's plan was complete.
> Chapter 2: General Grievous in Equestria
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~~Canterlot Tunnel System, Canterlot, 6 hours and 40 minutes after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




Compared to the glistening whites and purples of the spires that dotted Canterlot, the tunnels that currently held Grievous, his company of droids, and his escort of guards were dull, dim, and spooky to the less hardened individuals.  Grievous's walk to the throne room had gone underground almost instantly, so as to avoid terrorizing the citizens that were enjoying their war-free lives above them.

The group had been walking through the tunnels for around ten minutes.  During that time, one of the less experienced guards had attempted to start some sort of conversation with the droids and Grievous once or twice, but was either shushed immediately by one of the higher ranked guards, or was ignored completely.  No further attempts at conversation were made, and now the only sounds that they made were the sounds of their hooves, pointed metal talons, and feet on the smooth stone surface.

Several minutes later, the group approached a short staircase with a closed trapdoor at the top.  One of the guards took the initiative to open the door and run ahead to inform the princesses that they had a visitor.  The process of climbing the staircase was unexpectedly and embarrassingly more complex than it should have been.  One of the magna guards hit its head on the ceiling as it climbed the stairs, causing it to stumble back a step.  This wouldn't have mattered too much had the stairs been sized for the feet of a magna guard.  But they were pony sized, and therefore, the magna guard's step back caused to lose its balance entirely, falling into one of the commando droids that was close behind it.

After a few more failed attempts, some pushing, and moving limbs in directions that would have destroyed them had they been biological, the droids and ponies found themselves in one of the castle's storage rooms.  It was large enough to hold them all and a large supply of boxes and barrels, and thankfully had a ceiling tall enough to accommodate the mechanical behemoths.

One of guards cleared his throat.  "Alright Grievous, we're close to the princesses.  You've been compliant so far, so I doubt this warning will be necessary, but should you do anything suspicious, you will be apprehended and imprisoned until we decide what to do with you."

Grievous looked down at the guard, uninterested, and said nothing.

"Right..." the guard continued awkwardly.  "Let's continue."




The walk through Canterlot Castle was significantly livelier than the one in the tunnels just minutes before.  Grievous continued to walk hunched over slightly with his hands clasped behind his back.  He still had nothing to say, but at least he had something to look at.  Something impressive to look at.  The brick walls that surrounded him were massive, a common feature of most palaces, and seemed to glow with an uplifting white light.  Large windows lined some of the more busy hallways that the group walked through, permitting generous amounts of bright sunlight in.  Other corridors were lined with stained glass windows depicting what Grievous assumed were important ponies and events from the land's history.

Around him, guardsponies patrolled and servants hurried about, casting glances towards him and the droids as they passed.  Some, mostly the guardsponies, looked with curious or angry glances, which Grievous easily ignored.  What Grievous couldn't ignore were the looks of absolute fear given unto him by the servants and other nonmilitary ponies.  He couldn't tell whether to be proud of this, since that would mean that his mechanical body was working properly, or ashamed, since he obviously was making poor impressions.  After some consideration, Grievous determined that the thoughts of lowly servants were negligible, seeing as he really only needed approval from the princesses.

Mentioning the princesses in his thoughts reminded him that Dooku still hadn't told him why he was interested in them; Grievous was only told that the war effort may depend on his success, and that he was to let Dooku speak to the princesses.  A wise decision; Grievous was not a fan of diplomacy.

Grievous and company turned another corner before stopping abruptly.  The guards that had been escorting him snapped to attention and gave a salute to the pony that blocked their path.

"At ease, soldiers," said the pony as he stepped forward.  This pony was obviously important; he had an all-white coat covered in a suit of purple armor with gold trim.  He stood a couple inches taller than the ponies around him.  He wore no helmet, and instead allowed his medium length mane of varying shades of blue blow with the gentle breeze coming from the nearby open windows.  Grievous was about to note how this pony's horn was slightly longer than the horns of other horned ponies (Unicorns.  They're called unicorns, Grievous remembered), he had seen, but his mental processes were interrupted when the pony spoke.

"Hello.  I'm Shining Armor, Captain of the Royal Guard, the protective forces of Princess Celestia.  I've been told by Private Longbow here," Shining Armor gestured to the guard behind him, the guard who had gone ahead several minutes ago, "that you are seeking an audience with our Princess.  Before I let you into the throne room, I'd like you to introduce yourself and state your business here in Equestria."

Grievous was impressed with the bravery shown by the captain; he showed no signs of fear or hesitation.  Out of respect, Grievous complied.  "I am General Grievous of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, CIS for short.  My business is to meet with your leader."

Shining Armor's brow lowered, and with agitation in his voice, he replied "I'm aware of that.  Be more specific."

"My master has not provided me the details pertaining to the nature of my visit," Grievous responded, growing impatient.

Shining Armor moved his head out a little, gaze narrowing further.  "That's awfully suspicious.  How are we supposed to trust you when even your mas-"

His statement was cut off by a loud, low growl from the general.  "Listen here, Captain," Grievous said with a raised voice.  "I know not what my master has planned for your princess, but it shouldn't matter.  I am aware of good intentions; that is all."  He let his words linger before adding, "And even if I was told to attack your princess, I have no weapons, so I doubt that I could do harm."  What a lie.

The pony put a hoof to his chin and hummed in thought for a moment.  "I do suppose you're right, Grievous.  Come, let's see Celestia."


~~~Throne Room, Canterlot, 7 hours after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




The massive wooden doors creaked open, glowing with an aura matching the pinkish glow coming from Shining Armor's horn.  Grievous, his droids, and the now dozens of guards accompanying him entered the castle's grand throne room.  They stepped onto a long and wide red carpet.  It stretched from the doorway to the base of the immaculate golden throne in the back of the room.  The throne was empty, but to its right stood the most unusual pony Grievous had seen yet.  The pony, which Grievous assumed was the princess, was facing away from the group who had entered the room, gaze focused out of one of the many windows that covered the walls of the throne room.  Its coat was the purest white, with the exception of what Grievous assumed was a sun-shaped tattoo on its butt.  Its mane was long and was patterned with four stripes in the colors of light blue, light green, bluish purple, and a darker shade of pink.  Its tail had a similar coloring to it, and both its mane and tail seemed to move and flow of its own accord.  The pony had a large set of wings, but strangely, it also bore a horn that seemed disproportionately long relative to the size of its skull.

"Princess Celestia, this is General Grievous of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, the one who wished an audience with you," Shining Armor spoke.

Celestia turned away from the window that she had been staring out of to look upon the newcomers.  Now that she was facing him, Grievous could pick out more distinguishing features, such as the gilded horseshoes and other accessories she wore.  What struck him most were her eyes.  They were a deep purple, and radiated an air of age, wisdom, and experience.  They were beautiful in a way, but also sad.

"Grievous it is a pleasure to meet you," Celestia said.

"Likewise," Grievous said after a moment of hesitation.

Shining Armor spoke up.  "Grievous doesn't seem to be one for small talk, princess.  Perhaps it would be best to get straight to the point?" he inquired.

"Yes, I'd like to make this as quick and painless as I can," Grievous agreed.  Before the princess could respond, he reached for a small, round device attached to his waist.  He grasped it and threw it to the floor a few feet from the princess.  The guards in the room tensed and raised their weapons.

"My master is the one who wishes to speak to you, Celestia, but he is unable to come here in person.  He has sent me in his stead, and will be contacting us in a few minutes at the most," Grievous elaborated.

As if on cue, the device Grievous had thrown came to life, emitting a life sized hologram of a hooded figure.  "Greetings, Princess Celestia," said the figure as it pulled down its hood.

It was Dooku.

Dooku's hologram glanced around to observe his surroundings.  He was met with the stares from many a confused guardsponies.  Even Shining Armor was taken aback at the thought of something as big as the hologram (obviously not knowing that it was a projection, not actual matter) coming out of such a tiny...thing.

"Celestia, before our meeting continues, I would like to request that your guards leave us.  The information I have for you is highly classified and sensitive.  For now, it would be wise for only you and perhaps your most trusted soldier to hear this.  I can assure you that Grievous will not bring harm upon you."  The hologram said the last sentence with a wave before putting both hands between its back and cape.

She complied, and all the guards filed out except for Shining Armor.  A soundproofing ward was placed over the doors to ensure that none of the guards were eavesdropping.

Dooku watched Celestia place the ward, staring intently at her horn as the spell was cast, a smirk slowly forming on his face until Celestia returned her attention to his hologram.  His face quickly regained its unreadable stoic expression, and his gaze fixed back to Celestia's face.  "Princess Celestia, allow me to introduce myself.  I am Count Dooku, though may also hear me called Darth Tyrannus.  Either is fine.  And this, my ambassador," he gestured towards Grievous before returning his hand to behind his back, "is Grievous, as you already know.  I am the head of a grand organization called the Confederacy of Independent Systems, and Grievous is the general of its armies.  We have grave news to share with you."

"Please do explain what your Confederacy accomplishes, Count Dooku," Celestia stated.

"Very well.  The Confederacy is a large alliance of planetary systems in a galaxy not far from your planet, relatively speaking.  Almost every planet in the Confederacy is ruled by a monarchy or a diarchy, like yours, and are independent from each other except in military.  Our goal is to cleanse our galaxy of a vile organization called the Republic and their allies, the Jedi.  They are troublemakers; they invade Confederate systems and overthrow the monarchs, then try to establish their slow and ineffective democracy."

"That's all fine and well, Count, but I'm not seeing how Equestria fits into this.  I hope you don't mean to bring us into your conflict," Celestia responded, clearly confused and irritated.

"Dear Celestia, I'm afraid you've already been drawn in."

Celestia cocked an eyebrow; Shining Armor visibly tensed.

"As you may or may not have been able to figure out, my civilization has mastered interplanetary travel.  And, regrettably, the Republic has found your planet."

In Celestia's mind the pieces of what Dooku had told her clicked together.

"Our ships followed a Republic vessel into your planet's space and managed to prevent it from landing on your planet, but they will send more ships in your direction," Dooku continued.

"And what would happen if the Republic were to successfully land on this planet?" Celestia queried.

Dooku lowered his head slightly and frowned.  "They would land and send out their troops.  They would work to remove you and your sister from your seats of power, most likely by killing you, and then establish their own leaders.  They would kill any who oppose them.  Chaos would spread throughout Equestria."

Celestia cringed as Dooku said this.

"But they wouldn't stop there.  No, their hunger for power is insatiable," Dooku said with disgust.  "Once your kingdom is in ruins, they would spread their efforts to the other nations of this planet, if they haven't already crumbled by the time Equestria falls."  Dooku raised his head and stared at Celestia intently.

"Your conflict is violent?  This is...an unsettling revelation.  I have two more questions for you before you are dismissed: first, what are the Jedi?  And second, why are you telling me this?"

"The Jedi are self-proclaimed peace-keepers; soldiers for peace.  But they do not see that they are actually monsters, driven by lust for power and control.  I could tell you of their horrible deeds all day, but I believe Grievous would give a better account of the atrocities that the Jedi perform."

Dooku looked to Grievous after finishing his sentence.  He was seething in rage, likely reflecting on the day the Jedi stripped him everything he held dear.  Dooku smirked before looking back to the princess.  "To answer your second question, I tell you this because I wish to offer my services at protecting your country."

Grievous and Shining Armor looked at the hologram, shocked.  Celestia began to listen more intently.

"The Confederacy is a generous organization; we are willing to assist any system with repelling the Republic.  And though it may seem disrespectful, I must assume that your army is not strong enough to resist the Republic for any extended period of time."

"Hey!" Shining Armor objected, offended.  "My Royal Guard is the finest military institution from all of this planet's kingdoms!"

Grievous gave an amused laugh.  "Foolish pony.  The Republic has machines that fly in space; would it only make sense that they have similarly advanced weapons?"

"I-I guess?" Shining Armor stuttered.

"Enough!" Celestia intervened.  "Your petty rivalries can wait till after this situation has been handled."  She turned to Dooku.  "I am appreciative of your offer; certainly you request something in return for your services?"

"Nothing too extreme, dear princess.  All that I need in return is access to whatever is required to establish effective counter-resistance measures.  More specifically, all I need is permission to use your airspace freely, as well as permission to station troops where Grievous sees fit.  He is my general after all.  Which reminds me.  Should you accept my offer, Grievous, my best soldier, will be staying to organize the defenses, and perhaps he can better your army.  He is...exceptionally skilled with his trade."  Dooku stood silent for a moment, contemplating an idea.  "In fact, I believe that I could provide your civilization with some of our technologies if you're willing to house Grievous for the duration of his stay."

Now it was Celestia's turn to contemplate.  She sat for several long moments that eventually dragged into minuets.  Dooku had provided her with some dreadful information; she didn't want to think about the kind of anarchy that the Republic was bound to bring upon her fair country.  But then again, she didn't know whether or not anything that Dooku had said was true.

Celestia decided that such a decision could not be left to her alone.  It would be best to consult with Luna and get her opinion.  After all, her voice, though louder and Royal Canterlot, was just as important as Celestia's, especially in a matter as significant as this.

"I thank you for the information, Count Dooku," Celestia started.  "I will take everything you've said into consideration.  However, with you being a leader, you must understand that choices such as this must not be made too hastily and ill informed.  If it is within your patience, I'd like to discuss this with my sister, Luna, and get her view on the situation, before coming to an agreement."

"I understand perfectly, dear Celestia.  However, I must warn you to not take too long.  Grievous may be needed back here soon, and should that be the case, we will be unable to provide you with protection."

A muffled and incomprehensible droid voice could be heard in the background from the hologram, and Dooku's attention was pulled away from Celestia for a few seconds.  Once the droid had finished its business, Dooku returned his attention to Celestia.  "I apologize if I have not been able to satisfy your inquiries, Celestia, but I have urgent matters that I must attend to.  If you have any more questions, Grievous will answer them to the best of his abilities.  I await your decision."

The hologram cut out, producing loud static, but "choose wisely" could be faintly heard over it.  Grievous went and retrieved the hologram-emitting device from the floor and placed it back onto his waist.  He strode back to his original spot and looked at Celestia expectantly.  "Is there anything else you would like to know?"

"As of right now, I'd like to think over what I've been told," she replied.  "I am interested in hearing your story with the Jedi.  However, that should wait until later; perhaps during dinner?"

Grievous grunted.  "Very well."

"Excellent.  Shining Armor, why don't you find a room for Grievous and each of his men, then show them around the castle.  Provide them with the greatest hospitality Canterlot has to offer."

"Yes, your highness," Shining Armor agreed.

"I'll send a servant to fetch you when it is time to eat.  In the meantime, enjoy yourself," Celestia said as Shining Armor, Grievous, and his droids departed.

Once they were out of the company of Celestia, Shining Armor turned to Grievous and his droids and said "I'll find a room for each of you, then have everything of yours delivered to them."

"My droids need only one room," Grievous said.

"But...don't they all need a bed to sleep on?  And a bathroom?  And-"

Grievous cut him off by saying "They are droids; they do not have biological needs, and don't need beds."

Shining Armor stared awkwardly at the droids following Grievous before turning back to Grievous, saying "Okay then...whatever you say; you know them better than I do."


~~~Canterlot Castle Sparring Grounds, Canterlot, 8 hours and 25 minutes after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




Grievous watched as Shining Armor went through basic spear drills with his men...er, ponies.  They moved well in sync, but were still far inferior to his droids.  He had been watching them for around a half hour, silently analyzing them and their fighting style.  Based on what he could judge, they fought using old, primitive block formations, placing their spear-holders in the front with their archers in the back.

After another five minutes of instruction, the soldiers took a break.  Shining Armor walked up to Grievous, evidently fatigued, but satisfied.  "Well, now that you've seen some of my forces in action, what do you think?" he asked, eager to hear the general's compliments.

Grievous took a moment to word his response correctly before replying.  "Your guard is ill suited for combat."

The guard captain froze for a second before glaring at Grievous accusingly.  "What's wrong with my forces?"

"Your spear wielding technique is wrong and doesn't allow for maneuverability; your aerial troops are not being utilized correctly; your ground formation is suicidal; your equipment is subpar, and your soldiers are weak."

"My men are not weak!" Shining retaliated.  "They are strong, devoted, courageous, and smart!  They-"

"Prove it, then," Grievous challenged.  "Have your best soldier spar me, and I'll judge how strong and smart they are.  Or even better, spar me yourself, and show all your men how courageous you are."

"Alright then, we'll spar right now," he agreed.

"Excellent," Grievous said in an amused tone.  "I'm feeling generous right now; I'll refrain from using any weapons."




A few minutes later, Grievous and Shining Armor found themselves in a small patch of dirt outlined by a painted white circle.  Grievous stood hunched with his hands behind his back, as per usual.  Shining Armor stood opposite of him, dressed in is entire suit of armor, steel-tipped spear held in his right hoof.  Another pegasus guard stood in the middle, wearing standard guard gold, but with a black and white striped plume instead of the typical blue.

"Alright, here are this match's rules," the guard started.  "You may use any tactics to incapacitate your opponent except for choking, limb-breaking, or other such forms of lingering bodily injury.  If a strike you launch would be the lethal blow, you are to halt your attack and announce 'dead', indicating the end of the spar.  Understood?"

The combatants grunted in understanding.

"Begin!"

But aside from Shining Armor hefting his spear, neither of them moved.  They stood still, gazes unwavering, waiting for the other to strike first.  Grievous's patience gave out after a couple minutes of staring, and he made deliberately slow steps toward Shining Armor.  Between each step, he straightened himself and let his arms drop to his sides.  By the time he was within Shining Armor's reach, he stood at his maximum six and a half feet tall.  He glared down at Shining, admiring the fear shown on his face.  Obviously, confronting him to chat was much less nerve racking than confronting him in combat, even though it was simulated.

Shining Armor's resolve broke and he panicked, thrusting his spear up towards Grievous's chest.  Before Shining Armor could react, Grievous had grabbed and snapped off the tip of his spear, and now had it pointed towards his unprotected face.

"Dead," Grievous said simply.

Shining needed to spend a few moments composing himself after having had his life flash before his eyes.  He looked up to Grievous, who had by now retreated a couple steps and had tossed away the tip of Shining's spear.  "Again," Shining requested.  The crowd of guards around them looked amongst each other with concern in their eyes.

"Yes, sir," the pegasus from earlier acknowledged.

Once again, Grievous and Shining Armor faced each other in the same circle.   This time, Grievous stood at his tallest, arms hanging to his sides.  Shining Armor had equipped himself with a sword this time, and had removed his helmet.

"Rules from the previous spar are still in effect," the referee pegasus noted.  "Begin."

This time, Shining Armor made the first move.  Gripping his sword in his mouth, he charged straight for Grievous.  Grievous lunged at Shining, stretching out his left arm to grab him by the head.  His arm was inches away from Shining when he suddenly disappeared in a flash of white light.  Grievous stumbled forward and fell, maneuvering himself so he landed on his back.  Above him, Shining Armor reappeared, dropping quickly with his sword aimed for Grievous's chest.  Grievous lifted a leg, grabbing the end of Shining's sword with his taloned foot, and yanked it out of Shining's mouth, bending the blade as he did so.  Immediately afterwards, Grievous's other leg rose and snatched Shining out of the air, talons clamped firmly around the entirety of his head.  Shining's momentum carried his body down, pulling hard against his neck, causing it to crack and giving him pain.

So there Grievous lay, resting on his back, with one leg raised holding a struggling Shining Armor in its grip.  Deciding to stand and end this quickly, Grievous twisted his head and hips around, simultaneously splitting and lifting himself with his arms.  Grievous looked towards the terrified guards before flipping himself upright on his feet, body twisting back into place and arms reconnecting.  He made sure not to put his weight on the foot that still held Shining Armor, who had now been forced to the ground with the general standing on top of him.

"Dead," Grievous said again.  To emphasize this, he leaned a little harder on the leg holding Shining Armor, putting pressure on his skull.  He released Shining Armor after a couple seconds of crushing him.  Shining Armor refrained from moving any part of his body except for his eyes, looking up towards the now leaving Grievous, petrified.  He lay there, unmoving, until the referee came to help him up.  Shining didn't need the help; Grievous had left his body unharmed.  He took the help anyways, as to not be rude.  After dusting himself off quickly, he looked in Grievous's direction, and saw him heading back to his temporary chamber, resuming his typical posture.

"That guy's got skill," was all that the referee could think of saying.

"Perhaps too much skill for us to be safe," Shining Armor responded.  He then began to trot after Grievous, catching up to him within a few seconds.  "Hey where are you going?"

"Back to my quarters," Grievous answered without facing him.

"I must admit, I underestimated you," Shining said while rubbing a part of his face that was beginning to grow irritated due to the tight clamping it had just experienced.  "You put up a good fight."

They had reached the door to Grievous's room.  He opened the relatively small door, and stooped into his room.  "You didn't," he said before tossing the door closed behind him.


~~~Canterlot Castle Banquet Hall, Canterlot, 13 hours after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




It was evening now; more precisely, it was the time that two very important alicorns had their supper.  Tonight, however, they had more than just the company of their servants to dine with.  Tonight, Celestia and Luna were prepared for several more mouths to feed.

Grievous had been in his room since his spar with Shining Armor, and spent his time going over how weak he and his men were, and how to improve them.  Ten minutes ago, he had received a message from one of the servants, telling him that he was wanted at the banquet hall.

He now stood in front of the doors to the hall.  Unlike most doors in the castle, these were tall enough to accommodate his height without him needing to lean forward.  He pushed the doors apart, shocking the servant who had led him there, since none were known to be strong enough to push the solid chunks of wood without magical assistance, and stepped in.

Before him stood a medium sized rectangular table.  Upon it were several platters of variously prepared vegetables and glasses of water for the ones who were seated around it.  He saw Celestia sitting at the head of the table, with who Grievous assumed was Luna, her sister, to her right.  To Celestia's left was another alicorn with a pink coat and a gold, pink, and purple striped mane.  To that alicorn's left sat Shining Armor, looking slightly glum and upset.  Across the table from Celestia sat another chair that was empty, presumably his.  He approached the table unspeaking, and looked down to find that is reached to just above his knees.  He continued to stare at the short table, confused on how to handle his seating arrangement.  The pink alicorn gave a soft giggle as she noticed the height disparity between him and the table.

Finally, Grievous opted to take the chair he was provided with and place it next to Luna before sitting as cross-legged as his legs allowed where his seat used to be.  He looked up and turned to meet the gazes of the three alicorns looking at him and the zoning-out Shining Armor.  He waited for one of them to begin conversation, though was content with remaining silent.

Celestia was the first to say something.  "Welcome, Grievous.  I'm glad you could join us.  I don't believe you've met everpony here, so please allow me to introduce them.  "This is my sister, Princess Luna," she said nodding towards Luna, "and this is Princess Cadence, Shining Armor's wife," she said, this time indicating the pink alicorn.  Grievous gave a nod to each as they were introduced.

"I'm General Grievous, Supreme Commander of the Separatist droid army," Grievous replied.

"It is a pleasure for us to meet thee, General Grievous," Luna chimed, though the volume more closely resembled someone hitting a bass drum as hard as they could.  "Sorry," she said quietly after catching herself using the Royal Canterlot Voice.

"Yes, it's very nice to meet you," Cadence said light-heartedly, smiling.  "Shiny here told me about how you spent afternoon together, and he made you to seem like an interesting character," she said, tone going from serious to irritated as her sentence continued.  Shining Armor looked down towards the table as his wife spoke.

"We didn't know what kinds of things composed your diet, so if you have any requests, feel free to request them.  What we have here-" Celestia stated before Grievous interrupted her, saying, "I don't eat."

"Certainly thou must hunger though?" Luna part asked, part declared, stunned that a living being didn't need to eat.

"I am artificially sustained.  I have no need of food and little need for rest.  Also, I physically can't eat, seeing as I have no mouth," Grievous stated.

Cadence spoke up.  "I hope you don't feel offended or disrespected by us eating without you."

"Such insignificant things are not a bother to me."

"Teriffic!  Then let thine consuming begin!" Luna announced happily, signaling the ponies in the room to begin eating.




For being princesses, the way that Celestia and Luna ate was rather...uncouth.  Luna was the worst offender, not using silverware and letting the juices and fluids from her fruits and vegetables spray as she bit into them eagerly and aggressively.  Grievous was glad that he was so distant from the lunar princess.  Cadence was the polar opposite, pacing herself and using her silverware to ensure her bites were not excessively large.  Grievous noted that Shining Armor had eaten almost nothing.

Then there was Celestia, who had done well in making her eating civilized until cake was brought in for desert.  At that point, Celestia went primal.  Grievous could have sworn that on multiple occasions Celestia's jaw dislocated itself to expand entirely around a large piece of cake before closing and fixing itself, like a snake.  Somehow, during her ravenous gorging, she had managed to splatter small amounts of icing on Grievous's faceplate.



	
Eventually, the three princesses and the captain had finished their supper, and were now sitting quietly while the servants cleared the table.  They sat like that for a few minutes, until the last of the servants left them.  Grievous noticed that Celestia was watching the last servant intently as he left, indicating to Grievous that she wished to discuss something important with him.

Once Celestia determined that the servant was out of range of their voices, she turned to Grievous and began speaking.  "Luna and I have been discussing the information and offer your master has provided us with.  It is a heavy decision, and therefore, we cannot make a bad choice."

Luna turned to speak to Celestia.  "Sister, did you not tell us that Grievous is one who prefers to quickly get to the point?"  Her gaze turned to Grievous.  "We have considered your master's offer, but we have decided that we need more information regarding the scenario before we meet his request."

"What do you want to know?" Grievous asked.

Celestia spoke this time.  "When we were talking with your master earlier, he mentioned this group called 'Jedi', but failed to elaborate what they were and what they do.  He told me that you would be able to tell us who these 'Jedi' are, so this is what I'd like to hear from you."

"The Jedi are evil.  They are monsters, and they let civilizations fall to ruins.  They committed such atrocities against me and my people."  His anger rose as he reflected on the pain the Jedi had brought to his people.

"This was the extent to which Dooku described the Jedi.  It's not enough to make an educated decision with.  Could you possibly tell us what they did to you and your people?" Celestia inquired.

"I can, though I'll not enjoy it."

"If the memory becomes too painful, let us know and we will let the issue rest," Luna reassured.

"Fine," Grievous relented.  After taking a few seconds to organize his thoughts, he began his tale.




"You know me as General Grievous, but that is not my birth-given name.  My real name is Qymaen jal Sheelal.  I also used to be an organic organism, but that has been taken from me by the Jedi.  I'll explain later.  My home world is a planet called Kalee, and I, being one of the planet's inhabitants, am a Kaleesh.  We are reptilian species that has always been experiencing hardships.  As far as I can remember, and as far back as my parents and their parents and their parents still can remember, our species has been struggling for survival against the Huk.  The Huk, for all intents and purposes, are oversized, soulless mantises.  For several generations, they had been attacking and raiding our planet, capturing my people for the slave trade and desecrating our sacred grounds."

"Eventually, I showed up and proved to be effective for fighting off the Huk invaders.  My partner in war, Ronderu lij Kummar, and I were able to drive the Huk off of Kalee, though at the cost of her life.  After removing the Huk from Kalee, I led a campaign against the Huk and, with the assistance of a group of Kaleesh generals, known as the Izvoshra, we managed to drive them out of their colonies and back to their home world."

"This is where the Jedi get involved.  We were close to our retribution when the Huk consulted the Republic for help, and they got that help, despite being the aggressor and the ones taking my people for slavery!  The Republic sent about fifty Jedi to mediate the situation, and while we Kaleesh were certainly the victims in this conflict, the Jedi sided with the Huk.  My people were faced with hefty and unjust fines.  My planet was thrown into economic crisis, causing hundreds of thousands of impoverished Kaleesh to die."

"But the crimes of the Huk and the Jedi don't end there.  As a result of my planet's debt, I had taken a contract with the InterGalactic Banking Clan.  I was to be their collection agent and they would pay off the debt.  Kalee's economy managed to stabilize, but after hearing that the Huk were vandalizing sacred burial grounds, I left to exact revenge.  I gathered the Izvoshra and boarded one of our troop shuttles, the Martyr, which had unknowingly been rigged by the Jedi to explode.  Shortly after takeoff, the ship exploded, killing the Izvoshra, and damaging my body beyond repair."

"My memory of the time between then and reawakening as I am now is not very clear, but Dooku had informed me that he had found me after my ship had been rigged, and that it was the Republic that did it.  Since then, I have been serving justice throughout the Jedi order alongside the Separatists."




Grievous hadn't noticed that he had stood while telling his story.  He also hadn't noticed that he had smashed a corner of the table in a fit of rage.  He looked to the four ponies that were watching him and soaking in the story he had just told them.  Grievous decided that he didn't wish to converse anymore.  "The Jedi took everything away from me, and from too many Kaleesh as well," was his parting phrase.  He didn't look back until the doors to the banquet hall slammed behind him.


~~~Grievous's Room, Canterlot, 14 hours and 20 minutes after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




Grievous sat silent in his room.  His thoughts were wandering all throughout his past, reminding him of random snippets of his past, though they occasionally strayed to Ronderu, the cause of all of his happiness and all of his grief.  Soon, all of his thoughts were centered on his life with her, feeling more and more empty and alone the longer he dwelled.  In an attempt to relocate his thoughts, Grievous tried field-stripping his pistol, which had been delivered to his room a few hours earlier, as promised by Shining Armor.  Working on his pistol succeeded in getting his thoughts off of Ronderu, but strangely, they now pointed to Celestia.

He had noticed that his thought had been being interrupted annoyingly often since he had landed in Equestria, something that usually aggravated him greatly.  This time, he couldn't be more grateful for the interruption as his holovid shimmered to life, projecting a miniature Count Dooku next to Grievous.  He stopped fidgeting with his pistol and looked at his master.  He'd have bowed had he not been cramped in the room already.

"My lord, what is it?" Grievous inquired.

"I need an update with regards to Celestia's decision," the hologram responded.

"She has discussed it with her sister and they have agreed that they need more time to consider."

"This is most unsettling.  Give them two days to come to a decision before resorting to...aggressive negotiations," Dooku commanded.

"Yes, my lord," Grievous complied, deactivating the holovid.


~~~Throne Room, Canterlot, 1 day and 1 hour after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




Grievous approached the throne room after having been informed that his presence was required as soon as possible by the princesses.  As he neared the doors, he saw that it was protected by two spear wielding unicorns, one near each door.  Using their magic, they opened the doors for him once he got to them.  His first glimpse of the room's interior was Celestia and Luna sitting in their grand thrones.  The doors continued to open, granting Grievous view of Cadence and Shining Armor next to them.  The doors were finally open, and he saw that the room had been filled with Royal Guards, standing in orderly rows that faced the unoccupied red carpet in the center of the room.  He strode through the room, panning his head from left to right and back, observing the guards.  Grievous had to admit that they were more disciplined than he thought they'd be.  He quickly reached the base of the small stairs leading the Celestia's and Luna's thrones.  Celestia sat a couple inches higher than Grievous.

Grievous cleared his throat, or at least did whatever his mechanical body does to simulate that, before saying "You summoned me?"

"Yes, Grievous, I did," Celestia started.  She began to smile slightly, continuing.  "Luna and I have reached a decision..."
> Chapter 3: Victor Squad
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~~Republic Cruiser Loyalty, Outer Rim, 1 hour after the Ambush at US-01 (Unknown System-01)~~~




Except for one bored clone and a stubby brown and silver astromech, the medical room aboard the Loyalty was void of occupants.  He had stupidly dislocated his shoulder during a recent training exercise.  The bacta treatment helped with the pain and repaired most to the damage done, but dislocation was, unfortunately for the clone, one of the few injury types that a nice, long dip in a bacta tank couldn't heal completely.  Thus, for the past two days, he remained in the medical center.  He was to be checked out in a few hours, but this enlightening bit of news didn't do anything to allieviate his boredom.  The clone sighed.

He decided to do the only entertaining thing he was capable of doing while bedridden: toss the ball he happened to have at the wall, hoping that it would hit the floor and bounce back to him before he hit it again, trying to repeat that pattern.  His last attempt a few minutes ago ended after the second repetition.  That was the score to beat.  The clone chucked the ball at the wall facing him.  As predicted it bounced down before hitting the floor and rebounding towards him.

The door to the medical room opened and one of the many medical officers aboard the Loyalty, whom the clone got to know quite well, entered the room.  The disturbance distracted the injured clone, causing him to miss the ball that had just pelted him in the face.  The clone grabbed his face and rubbed it in an attempt to reduce the irritation caused by the rubber rubbing against his flesh.

A chuckle was heard from the medical officer, who came to stand next to the injured clone's bed.  However, his attention was focused on the holopad he was holding.  "Alright, let's see," the medical officer thought out loud.  "RC-1491, sent in two days ago for dislocated shoulder, to be checked out...now."

RC-1491 looked up to the medical officer, slightly confused.  "B-but I'm not to be checked out for another couple of hours.  Certainly there is a mistake," he argued.

"Nope, you're to be checked out immediately by order of General Kenobi.  He says he's got an assignment for you, but the briefing's not for a few hours.  You don't need to be in here for those hours, as long as you don't do anything too strenuous with your arm," the officer replied.

RC-1491 simply shrugged and let the medical officer do his final check up.  He removed the sling from the injured clone's arm before announcing "Alright Captain Viktor, you're free to go."  He returned to his holopad and left the room.

Viktor propped himself up onto his feet, smiling at his good fortune.  Looking down, he saw the astromech standing beside his bed, holding his ball in a thin grasping apparatus and offering it to him.  "Thanks, R8," he said as he took the ball, patting the droid afterwards.  Today feels like it's going to be a good day, Viktor thought.




The door to Viktor's room slid open with a hiss as Viktor stepped near the frame, the astromech a couple of paces behind him.  Viktor reached his now operable arm behind his back and stretched, relaxing in the more comfortable surroundings.  His room was small by most species' standards, only large enough for a single bunk, a closet holding two pairs of casual uniforms, a footlocker for his armor, and enough free space so that one could reach all of these amenities with their arm without needing to take a step.

There were still a few hours until the briefing for his next assignment started, giving Viktor ample time to polish his armor and clean his weapons so as to look presentable for General Kenobi.  He moved to his footlocker and unlocked it, opening the lid and peering inside.  The astromech rolled beside him.

On top of the pile of various armor plates lay Viktor's helmet, staring lifelessly at him.  Viktor picked the helmet up, gazing into the T-shaped visor typical of Mandalorian armor before wiping some grime off of it.  He tossed it up lightly a couple of times before placing it on his bunk and moving his attention to the other pieces of armor in his footlocker, inspecting each piece carefully for visual imperfections.




Viktor walked down the halls of Loyalty, making his way to the armory to check up in his DC-17 and prized custom-modified bowcaster.  He had donned his armor, having spent the previous couple of hours aggressively polishing its dull gray surface.  Other clones looked at him warily as he passed, something all commandos eventually got used to.

Viktor had been a rare exception with regards to commando training; he had managed to earn his way into training despite being originally designated as a standard infantry trooper.  As such, he requested only a few decals be placed on his commando armor.  Namely, he had a thin blue stripe placed on the center of his elbow and knee pads, as well as a blue stripe running from above the center of his visor, over the dome that lacked the solid metal plume of standard clone helmets, and ended halfway down the back of his helmet.

He reached the armory and retrieved his DC and his bowcaster, inspecting their surfaces for scratches and other minor damages.  Finding none, he moved to a part of the room dedicated to disassembling and reassembling weapons.  Viktor sat himself down in front of one of the few workbenches and began taking apart his DC-17.  The internal components turned out to be fine, and he diverted his attention to his bowcaster.

He grasped the bowcaster, admiring the modifications he had made to it.  Shortly after he had obtained it, he had trimmed its size to fit his human dimensions, and modified the firing mechanism to magnetically fire solid metal bolts from a magazine, rendering it almost completely silenced, while maintaining effectiveness against fleshy targets.  Aside from these changes, Viktor avoided messing with the internal components of it, preferring instead to let the astromech that had followed him and now stood by his side to do that.

The astromech surveyed the bowcaster's parts, making a few adjustments to it before reassembling it and returning it to Viktor.  "Thanks again, R8," the commando said to the droid as he claimed his bowcaster.  The droid whistled happily.  Viktor stood up and went to the droid who maintained the armory.  "I've got a deployment in a couple of hours," he said to the droid, "I'm going to want these delivered to me before I leave.  R8 will tell you when and where to deliver these."

"Yes, sir," the droid replied before retreating to do...whatever business it did; Viktor didn't know.  Having finished all of his pre-briefing preparations, Viktor decided to retire to his bunk and wait until he was summoned.


~~~Republic Cruiser Loyalty, Outer Rim, 5 hours and 55 minutes after the Ambush at US-01~~~




Viktor sprinted through the halls, struggling to reach the briefing room in time.  He had misplaced his holovid, causing him to receive his summons later that he would have liked.  Following closely behind him was R8, jet boosters projecting a long and powerful stream of fire.  At the rate he was going, Viktor would be several minutes late for the briefing, not the impression a clone commando should be giving to a Jedi general, especially one as well known as Kenobi.

R8 nudged Viktor's leg, causing him to stumble.  He turned to the droid and glared underneath his helmet before realizing what R8 was doing.  Viktor stopped running and stepped behind the now grounded droid, and grabbed the handles attached to the astromech's back, another one of Viktor's genius technical modifications.  The droids boosters lit again, this time unleashing all of its modified and amplified glory, shooting itself and Viktor at high speeds through the tight corridors of the vessel.


~~~Republic Cruiser Loyalty, Outer Rim, 5 hours and 59 minutes after the ambush as US-01~~~




On time.  I'm on time, Viktor thought as he sighed in relief.  He had reached the briefing room in record time, though he was sure that he made a show of himself by riding the astromech that stood at his side.  This was Viktor's first deployment since he had finished his commando training, so he was eager to finally see the elite squad he was to be assigned to.  Perhaps a new squad will lessen the pain of losing my old one, he mused.  Finally ready, he strode into the room.

He glanced around, noting several figures in the room.  Standing next to the hologram projection table that occupied the center of the room stood Generals Obi-Wan and Mace Windu.  On a bench next to the wall to Viktor's right were two standard clones and one ARF trooper.  The clone farthest from Viktor was busying himself with a careful inspection of the innards of his pistol.  The ARF trooper was leaning against the wall, hands clasped on the back of his head while laying one ankle on the knee of the other leg.  The other clone sat still, arms folded across his chest.  Viktor noticed that there was a crack in his helmet.  One last figure occupied the room, but before he could get a look at it, the generals grabbed his attention.

"RC-1491, it's good to see you could make it," General Mace said flatly.

"Indeed, and it's nice to hear that you enjoyed yourself while getting here," General Kenobi added.

Viktor blushed under his helmet, embarrassed, not having expected the Generals to know of his droid-riding antics.  "Uh, uhm, well, I was running late, so..." Viktor stammered.

"It's fine, Captain," General Kenobi assured.  "Stand over there," he pointed to a spot next to the clone with the cracked helmet, "so we can begin."

Viktor saluted and walked to his spot, R8 rolling to be on the side of him opposite of the sitting clone.

"Welcome soldiers," General Mace began, "you four have been selected to be a part of a very important operation.  Several hours ago, one of our Outer Rim communications vessels, the Valiance, had received a transmission from a stray Republic probe.  This probe provided the crew of the Valiance with the location of a planet outside of our galaxy, which was being orbited by multiple CIS frigates.  After being sent to investigate, our ship was ambushed and quickly disabled.  As such, you are being called upon to continue the investigation led by the Valiance and its crew."

Mace paused and Viktor nodded in acknowledgement.

"We would be sending a Jedi along with you, but after making a few observations, we decided that it would be a dangerous idea," Mace stated.

"You are to be leaving shortly, so Mace and I must leave.  However, we have entrusted Sergeant Moon with all of the mission details.  He will continue the briefing.  Gook luck, men, and may the Force be with you," General Kenobi concluded.

"May the Force be with you," General Mace agreed.  The Jedi turned and left the room, and the previously unidentified figure, now known to be Sergeant Moon, stepped forward.

Moon wore standard clone armor, though his shoulder pads were decaled black with the exception of a crescent moon shaped patch on each one.  An indigo stripe ran down the length of each arm, stopping at the end of his gauntlet.  He cleared his throat before addressing the clones in front of him.  "Greetings, soldiers, I'm Sergeant Moon, though I prefer to omit the title."  He turned to Viktor and asked "Captain Viktor, there are two parts to this briefing: your mission and a brief introduction to your squad.  Which would you like to do first?"

Viktor requested that the mission be stated first.  "Very well," the Sergeant acknowledged.  "As the Generals said, you are to continue the investigation of the unknown planet, hereafter referred to as US-01.  You are going to be sent to its surface to do so, and will operate under the name of Victor squad.  The stray probe managed to send the Valiance two images before its transmission was ended.  The first one simply shows a CIS frigate orbiting the planet; the other is the one you'll be interested in."  Moon brought an image of two small mesas up on the holographic table.  "This is the only image of the planet's surface that we have, and as such, this location will act as your first LZ and camp.  We've determined that a stealth gunship will fit in the space between the mesas in the picture, and as such, you'll be using one to get to the surface.  A vehicle like Loyalty has no chance of approaching the planet undetected, whereas a stealth gunship would most likely be able to do so.  Therefore, you're to head out and arrive on the planet before Loyalty does and set up a small encampment.  Once you're finished with that, stay in the area until we can contact you and give you further directives.  The time you spend waiting for us would be a good time for you to begin collecting data.  Any questions?"

The clone who had been fiddling with his pistol earlier looked to the room's other occupants nervously before speaking up.  "What kind of information should we be gathering?" he asked at a volume equivalent to half an indoor voice.

"Good question," Moon responded.  "Over the course of your stay, you're to gather as much data as possible about, well, everything.  I know it seems like a tall task, but you're all reasonable people; you'll be able to deduce what things should be studied first.  The thing is, we know nothing about this planet, so we've got no leads for you."

The ARF trooper, still sitting in his relaxed pose, spoke up.  "So we're being sent down to a completely unknown planet with ties to the Seps to do basically whatever we want before telling the upstairs what we've done?  Sounds good to me." 

"Um, something like that, though without the 'do whatever you want' part," Moon replied.  "We don't truly need every little detail as of now, though.  Officially, you're supposed to observe everything and report it, but if you'll accept my unofficial advice, I suggest that you begin researching the planet's indigenous species, if any, as well as what allows them to live there, and anything that seems like it would interest the Seps."

"What about the tinnies?" the clone with the cracked helmet asked.  His voice was a mix of the clone's normal voice and static.  "Do we shoot them up if we see them?"

"Not unless you've been compromised.  You're to avoid contact with the droids and monitor their actions on the planet.  We need to find out what on the planet has caught their eye.  This is why we need as much data about the planet as possible.  If you do find something significant down there, you're to report it so that we can intervene."

"How will we get the information we collect to you?" asked Viktor.

"You'll be provided with a special transmitter once we begin loading the gunship.  Its transmissions will be encrypted, and only one terminal will be able decode it.  That terminal happens to be mine, so anything you report will go to me to review and analyze for future use.  You'll also be able to contact me by normal means if you've got any questions.  I'll show you how to send me data using the transmitter once we get to the hangar; describing the process without having the device here for reference will be somewhat difficult."

"When do we leave?" Viktor queried.

"Well, I've gone through everything I need to go through with regards to your mission, so I guess now I get to present each of you to the rest of your squad quickly.  After that, we'll head to the hangar to load your gunship, then you'll all be off," Moon responded.

"Right.  Can we hurry through this though?  I'm getting bored," the ARF trooper replied.  Viktor couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

"Fine, but it helps if you don't interrupt," Moon scolded.  "Anyways," he started while pulling up Viktor's file, "the commando here is RC-1491, or Captain Viktor.  Quite the record he's got; served with the Muunilinst 10 I see.  Oh, and an operation on Christophsis." Viktor cringed when Moon mentioned this part of his service.  "Anyways, he will be leading you on the surface.  Viktor here is a well rounded soldier, but is mostly an infantry specialist."

Moon pulled down Viktor's file and replaced it with the ARF trooper's file.  "Alright, the ARF trooper is CS-1265, or Private Spy.  He's had a little combat experience with Lightning Squadron on Ryloth, and his most logical position would be as the reconnaissance specialist."

"Uh...you forgot to mention that I got, like, fifty or sixty kills during that fight.  And you left out the fact that I'm also the 'being awesome' specialist," the ARF trooper said.  Moon shook his head and sighed, but provided no further acknowledgement of the ARF trooper's statement.

The next file to be brought up was for the trooper with the cracked helmet.  "This is CC-1000, or Private Gore.  He's got some experience fighting with the 212th on Ryloth and on Geonosis; heavy assault specialist."

"And finally, for CC-1874, or Corporal Shy," the Sargent said as he pulled up the file for the final clone.  "Looks like he's got some experience with the 212th as well.  Fought in the same battles as Gore.  Anyways, Shy appears to be your best bet as a sniper and science officer."

Viktor nodded towards Moon as he pulled down Shy's file and deactivated the hologram projection table.  He redirected his attention to the still sitting clones that were now under his command, getting a strange feeling that something was wrong.  He quickly dismissed it and regarded it as anxiety; after all, this was his first time leading an operation.

"There's a LAAT/s waiting for you in one of the hangars, and everything we think you'll need is waiting to be loaded.  If you've go not further questions, then we'll head down there and second check everything, just in case any of you see anything we missed.  Also, there are a couple of surprises waiting for Spy, Shy, and Gore."

"We get presents?  What are we waiting for, let's go!" Spy proclaimed enthusiastically while reaching a standing position.  Moon face palmed.  Viktor crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow at him.  Shy and Gore regarded him with strange glances, though Gore also chose to rise.

"Right, let's get going," Viktor said awkwardly, still peering at Spy.

"Yes, sir," Viktor got as a reply from Spy and Gore.  Shy looked up to Viktor, then to Spy and Gore, then back to Viktor before going to his feet.  The clones followed Moon out of the briefing room and began their trek to the hangars.


~~~Republic Cruiser Loyalty, Heading towards US-01, 6 hours and 20 minutes after the Ambush at US-01~~~




Sergeant Moon, Victor squad, and R8 entered the hangar containing the gunship that was to be Victor squad's transport to US-01.  It was a special gunship in that it was a LAAT/s model, a slimmer and stealthier, though more expensive, variant of the standard LAAT/i.  The barrels for the rocket launchers mounted on the vehicle's top were shorter than that of a LAAT/i, and it had a desert camo, whereas normal LAAT/s' were usually entirely black.  Around the hangar were various pieces of transmitting equipment and other machines meant for establishing a small encampment.  Two BARC speeders with sidecars were found near the gunship.

Viktor spent a few minutes inspecting the equipment with Moon, eventually figuring out what was to be brought: both BARC speeders, the special transmitter, which Viktor had been quickly instructed with its operation, a small signal jammer, a couple of small radio receivers, some portable repulsor-lifts, a couple small crates of ordinance, and a few crates of various survival equipment.

While Viktor was working with Moon, Spy tried conversing with Shy and Gore about what their 'presents' were going to be.  Gore participated in the chat, offering ideas that were more realistic than the 'personal assortment of Twi'lek dancers' Spy had suggested.  Shy remained quiet throughout, simply nodding or shrugging whenever he was addressed directly.

Thankfully, for the rest of Victor Squad, Viktor and Moon and finally finished checking their equipment and had returned to them to tell them what was to happen next.  Moon spoke up first.  "Alright you guys, we've got everything you'll need picked out and prepared to load.  Now, for your surprise-"

"It's a pet rancor, isn't it," Spy interrupted.

"No...?" Moon replied, thrown off guard by the ridiculous concept of owning a rancor as a pet.  Who in the right mind would do that?  "No, your surprise is something a little more meaningful.  We've been authorized to decal your armor, which will be done while Viktor and I load the ship."

"Decals, huh?" Spy repeated.  "Yeah that's better than rancors.  Don't know why I thought of that."

"Maybe that's because you're defec-" Moon muttered, a little too loudly, but caught his slip and corrected himself.  "Definitely a creative one.  It's because you're definitely creative," he said, glad that his helmet covered the grin of a lying man that had appeared on his face.

"Uhm, thanks?" Spy said, not catching Moon's mistake.

"So, where do we go for these decals?" Gore asked, wanting to get going.

Moon signaled to a group of clones near the back of the hangar.  "Those guys over there will take care of that for you, but you'll need to stick with them to tell them what you want and make sure you're okay with the quality."

"Sweet," Spy said, looking towards the previously indicated clones.  "I think I'll have a crotch on my crotch," he said, walking away from his squad as he said that.

"...What?" Gore said, wanting to make sure he had heard correctly.  Moon and Viktor face palmed.

After a few steps, Spy burst out laughing, almost overloading his helmet's internal speakers.  "I'm joking!" he said between spasms.  After his fit subsided, he looked back to his dumbstruck squad.  "Oh man, we're gonna get along great!"

"We've wasted enough time," Viktor declared.  "Get your decals quick, then lets get out of here."

"You're no fun," Spy mumbled as he resumed his original path, this time accompanied by Shy and Gore.

Today is going to be a long day, Viktor thought.


~~~Republic Cruiser Loyalty, Heading towards US-01, 7 hours after the Ambush at US-01~~~




Viktor, Moon, and R8 waited near for the now loaded gunship for the other members of Victor squad to finish getting their decals.  Viktor was surprised that it was taking so long for the decals to be applied; his only took about ten minutes when he had gotten them.  Then again, his were almost as simplistic as one could get.  He wasn't quite a fan of excessively flashy decals.  Moon's decals were probably the flashiest that Viktor could tolerate.

Aside from getting the feeling that he would be faced with a lot of color very soon, the feeling of doubt that Viktor had been feeling before returned.  This time, he couldn't get rid of it.  "Sergeant, do you mind if I ask you a question?" Viktor asked, still trying to find the words to portray his feelings.

"Sure, Captain.  What'd you like to know?"

"Well...I'm a bit curious as to why I've been assigned with standard clones instead of commandos for this operation," he said, hoping to ease a different curiosity while still trying to word his previous concern.

"Do you have something against standard clones, Captain?" Moon asked, more aggressively than intended.

Feir'fek, Viktor mentally cursed, completely forgetting the fact that Moon was a standard clone as well.  Offending other clones was usually not well tolerated, but when one offended the clone that was to be their supervisor, then there was certainly trouble to be had.

"Relax, I'm joking," Moon assured, causing Viktor to sigh and visibly release tension.  "As for your question, you've been assigned with these clones because they have the potential to be as great as you.  It's rare that such raw abilities are found in clones, but it's possible.  I mean, look at you, you're a commando, but that wasn't even your designated position.  These clones are basically an early stage of you."

"Don't you mean I am an early stage of him?" Spy asked.  Apparently, he was finished decaling up and had walked in on Viktor and Moon's conversation unnoticed.  "After all, Vikky here is older than me.  And the rest of us.  Heck, he's, like, our grandpa at this point."

"I-I do you suppose that the answer to your question is yes, but surely you can show more respect for your superior than what you've just shown," Moon responded.

"And don't call me 'Vikky'," Viktor said with disgust.

"Only if Moon doesn't call me 'Shirley'," he said, turning to face Moon and grinning.

"Wait, when did I call...oh, you're so immature," Moon chided distastefully.  "Don't you have any idea how stupid that joke is?"

"Eeyup," Spy said, still grinning widely.  His grin slowly diminished as the trio stood in silence.  Neither Viktor or Moon dared speak in fear that Spy would make another lame pun.

Viktor took the time to look over Spy's decals.  Fortunately, Spy had chosen a simple pattern with no crotches on his crotch.  Spy's decals consisted of forest green shoulder pads, elbow pads, kneepads, gloves, and boot soles, as well as the default ARF trooper decals on his helmet.





The four of them waited under the wing of the gunship for about ten minutes more before Shy had finished getting his decals.  He approached them, but said nothing, something that Viktor was fine with.  It seemed to Viktor that Shy was trying to hide from the group of them by standing half behind the gunship, forcing Viktor to adjust where he was standing to look at his decals.

Like Spy, Shy had chosen simple decals.  He had an orange stripe running along the length of the metal plumage on the top of his helmet, as well as along the center of his kneepads and gloves.  Additionally, there was a lime green stripe of the same width going across his elbow pads lengthwise.  The most significant change, though, was a box attached to the right side of his helmet.  He had seen other clones attach rangefinders and visors to their helmets in a similar fashion.  Viktor had never seen a helmet attachment like the one Shy had, though; it was as large as a Wookie's fist and was covered by a white casing, but the front had several lights of varying color and other buttons on it.

Viktor had determined by now that Shy was not talkative, so he decided to confront Moon about the strange contraption.  Viktor found that Moon was apparently watching him watch Shy once he turned around.  Viktor raised his arm, pointing his thumb to Shy behind him, before tapping the side of his helmet a couple of times with him index finger before finally shrugging.  Moon understood what Viktor was indicating.

"Uh, that would be a science module," Moon clarified.  "I should have told you earlier that we were going to equip him with that.  It's a handy tool that stores scientific data.  It's also capable of running simple tasks such as detecting vitals, analyzing radiation patterns, and determining the chemical composition and molecular structure of samples of stuff."

"Alright, that kind of stuff is boring but I know that it's not simple.  How could you possibly call that stuff simple?" Spy interjected.

"It's simple relatively speaking," Moon said, rolling his eyes under his helmet.  It's amazing that some clones can be so dumb.  "Anyways, we had to keep his decals simple so that there would be time to instruct him in the module's use.  I hadn't expected him to be finished learning how to operate that before you and Gore got finished decaling, though."

"Gore must be having an art museum put on his armor or something in order for it to take so long," Spy panned.

"You don't say," Moon muttered.




After another half hour of waiting, Gore finally presented himself and his freshly decaled armor.  Viktor thought that Moon's armor was a little flashy, but it was nothing compared to what Gore had had done.  A dark red line went down the spike on his helmet, leading to what appeared to be a dark red scorpion stinger.  The tip of the stinger rested just above the center of Gore's visor.  On his gloves and kneepads were three jagged lines running across their entire lengths, also dark red.  Each breastplate on his chest armor had been colored to appear like dark red bat wings, and his shoulder straps had been colored tan.  Somehow, he had mounted the sheathes to each of his combat knives just under the shoulder straps, blade end pointing up, giving his shoulders and the bat wings on his chest a spiked appearance.

"Gore," Spy began saying, "your armor is the most random assortment of images I've ever seen."

Gore glanced down to look at his armor again.  "It's not random," he defended.  "It means something."

"What could lines, bats, and scorpions possibly mean together?" Spy asked rhetorically.

Moon face palmed again, causing Victor squad's attention to focus on him.  "Did you really just spend an hour of our precious time trying to get yourself to resemble a manticore?" he asked, sighing afterwards.

"Hey!  At least someone knows their mythical creatures.  And no, most of the time was spent mounting my knives," Gore stated, not catching Moon's exasperation.

"What the heck is a manticore?" Spy asked confused.

"It's a mythical creature that's half lion, half scorpion, and half bat," Gore replied.

"Really?" Spy asked sarcastically.  "I wasn't aware that something could be three halves other stuff."

Gore stared at Spy, ready to counter that claim, but paused after realizing the flaw in his previous statement.  "Well...shut up," he said, ending any chance of retribution.

"Both of you shut up; you've got a job to do, and you've already wasted too much time decaling and bickering," Moon yelled, resolve finally crumbling.  He seethed for a moment before collecting himself.  "Now, I've got one more thing for Shy, Gore and Spy, there you're out of here."

"Oh, we still get a rancor?" Spy inquired.

Moon clenched his fist, tempted to punch Spy.  "No..." he hissed.  He looked over to a crate in the corner of the hangar.  It was supposed to be brought over to him by some of the service droids, but he decided to get it himself, so as to get away from Spy, even if only for a minute.  "Be right back," he said with fake calm, and headed towards the crate.

A couple of minutes later, he had returned to the waiting clones, and dropped the crate with a loud thud.  The walk had done wonders for his serenity, and he spoke with sincere calmness now.  "This mission may very well be the most important of the war, and as such, it has been decided that you're going to be equipped with the best we have to offer."

Moon lifted the top of the crate such that the contents were still hidden from Victor squad's view.  He reached in and pulled out a small weapons crate.  This crate was also opened, and Moon revealed the DC-15s inside to Spy.

"This...this is a DC-15.  There's nothing special about a DC-15," Spy pouted.

"You'll be happy to know that this one has been slightly modified."

Spy perked up.

"The muzzle of the weapon has been slightly modified to allow use of a commando grade silencer.  Now those are beautiful things," Moon said.  "Commando silencers are shorter than standard silencers, and they don't affect accuracy and range.  Cost a fortune to produce though...anyways, Spy, this is yours.  The silencer is in here somewhere, I'll give it to you when I find it," he said, handing Spy the DC-15s.

The next thing to be pulled out of the crate was another weapons crate, this one long.  Inside was a DC-15a rifle and a scope.  "Alright, Shy, this is for you," he said as he attached the scope and handed the rifle to Shy.  "Aside from the scope, which has a times two, ten, and twenty zoom, there have been no modifications to it."

"That's fine," Shy said almost inaudibly.

"Oh man; the big package," Moon muttered as he leaned over the crate and grunted, obviously lifting a heavy object.  Once he stood up again, he was wielding a formidable looking chain gun.  "This bad boy is yours, Gore," he said, hefting the heavy machine towards Gore.  Surprisingly, Gore caught it with little effort.  "Now, this has had some serious modding done to it.  It has two power cores instead of one.  There is a button on the handle that will change the core that you're drawing power from.  However, if you switch cores regularly and don't let them overheat, then you can fire nearly indefinitely.  Sadly, this extra firepower comes at the cost of a heavier and less mobile weapon.  It should make short work of any tinnies you can't help but fight though."

"Sweet; can't wait to try it.  Any volunteers?  Spy?"

There was no response.

"Okay then!" Moon said awkwardly, trying to hurry things up.  He pulled one last weapons crate out of the large crate, this one more bulky than the others.  He opened it and took out one of the four DC-17 pistols and its holster.  "Lastly, it's been decided to equip you guys with some real commando equipment.  These are DC-17 pistols.  They are heavy pistols, capable of taking down a B2 in a couple of hits, but they feel like a standard pistol and are the same size.  However, you can get off about twice as many shots before it overheats than a standard pistol can, and it's more accurate.  I've got one here for Spy, one for Gore, and two for Shy."

"Why does Shy get two but we only get one?" Spy asked, jealous.

"Well, I don't know; it's just what I was told to do.  I must say, though, that, based on how much I like you and Gore, Shy would get the extra regardless of who I was originally told to give it to," Moon said, smiling, feeling proud of how that statement would get under Spy's skin.

"Eh, fair enough," Spy said with a shrug.

Moon fell silent, and was once again happy to have his dumbfounded expression covered by his helmet.  I really wanted that to annoy him, Moon mentally pouted.

During the time that Moon had been providing the rest of his squad with their weapons, the droid from the armory had delivered Viktor's weapons to him.  He now looked upon his fully equipped squad, feeling content with what they had.

"One more thing to mention before you leave," Moon said to Victor squad, though his gaze really only went to Spy, Shy, and Gore.  "Each of your weapons, excluding the pistols, has had a magnetic attaching module put in them, which will allow them to magnetically attach to the back of your armor, which should eliminate the need for straps or anything of the like."

Spy decided to test Moon's claim.  He swung his silenced DC-15s over his back and let go of the handle.  No clanging noise was heard.  He glanced at his shoulder and saw his weapon resting peacefully on his back.  A light tug later, and the DC was back in Spy's grasp.  "That's awesome," he commented.

Moon directed his attention to Viktor.  "I've said it a lot already, but for real this time, that's all I have to say.  Now, you're behind schedule, so get aboard your ship and get out of here.  Good luck."

Viktor nodded and Victor squad boarded their gunship.
> Chapter 4: Landing at They Don't Know Where
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~~LAAT/s, Heading towards US-01, 8 hours and 25 minutes after the Ambush at US-01~~~




The gunship silently shuttled through empty space.  It and its cargo were alone in the void, with the exception of the innumerable stars that surrounded them.  Victor squad had disembarked from the Loyalty around fifteen minutes ago after some last-minute system checks, and already the cruiser was out of visual range.  Viktor had taken the role of the pilot, sitting in the first domed canopy of the gunship.  Directly behind him sat Shy, who had been given the role of gunner and navigator.  Gore and Spy had taken up positions in the turrets mounted on the sides of the gunship, while R8 stayed in the troop bay, making sure that the gear inside remained restrained and undamaged.

Since boarding the gunship, the only communication had been small talk between Spy and Gore and important takeoff chatter between Viktor and the hangar personnel, both of which had ceased after the gunship had gotten out of range of Loyalty's communicators.  The metaphorical atmosphere around the clones was tense and awkward; each of them wanted to talk, with the exception of Shy, but none knew what to discuss, nor did any of them know what topics would be sensitive to discuss.

Spy braved the awkwardness first.  "So...how's everybody doin'?" he asked.

"Fine," was Viktor's delayed response.

"Alright..." Spy said after confirming that Shy and Gore were not going to reply.  "What should we talk about, boss man?" he directed to Viktor.

Viktor hesitated.  "Why don't you guys tell me about your skills?  Moon's brief introduction was a bit, well, brief.  I'd like to know what I really have to work with."

Spy jumped on the opportunity to brag.  "Well, I'm glad you asked boss man-"

"Just...don't give me any nickname other than Viktor...please?" Viktor interrupted with a sigh.

"Sure, Vikky, whatever.  Anyways..." Spy continued nonchalantly.

Viktor sighed again and mentally facepalmed.

"So, as I'm sure you've figured out by now by virtue that you're not a complete idiot-at least I hope you're not-I'm an ARF trooper.  I do all sorts of recon things.  I was part of Lightning Squadron before this assignment.  I was the best stealth unit in the squad, and was pretty capable of handling one of those AT-RT walkers.  I'm quite skilled in hand-to-hand combat also.  In fact, I'd be willing to bet that I'm the best hand-to-hand fighter here."

Shy snickered quietly at that statement.  His contribution was left unnoticed to his delight.

"I'm gonna put you up to that bet soon," Gore threatened.

"Sure thing.  Anyways, as I was saying, I'm an ARF trooper, and that means I've been specially trained to be faster and more agile than normal troops like Gore and Shy.  I'll admit, though, that I don't handle being in the front lines all that well unless I've got some sort of support or vehicle to back me up," Spy finished.

"Anything else?" Viktor asked.

"Well, unless you want me to describe my sheer awesomeness and my dashing good looks, I've got nothing else you'd be interested in," Spy said.

"Um...right...well...Gore, would you like to describe your specialties?" Viktor stammered.

"Yeah sure," he said, his helmet's speakers feed backing as he paused.  "I good with big guns and big booms.  Mostly big guns."

"That's awfully vague," Spy commented sarcastically.

"Well, unlike you, I don't feel like describing every little detail about my skills to the boss, most of which is stuff he probably already knows.  He probably knew everything you said about ARFs too; he is a commando after all," Gore spat back.

Viktor coughed loudly into his helmet radio, shutting up Gore and Spy.  "Could you two possibly not bicker for once?" he said authoritatively.  "Or if you two must argue, could you at least do it not at the expense of Shy and I's ears?"

"Well...fine," Spy huffed.

Gore grunted and looked to Spy in the bubble turret across from him.  "I hate you," he mumbled.

"Love you too," came the response.




Another five hours passed by in silence.  In the far distance, Viktor, Shy, and, had they been paying attention to what was in front of them, Spy and Gore, could make out a celestial body that actually seemed to get closer.  According to the vehicle's navicomputer, it was their destination.  Finally, their trip in the gunship was coming to an end, and the real mission was beginning.

Viktor's mind was racing, trying to determine the best course of action for once they landed on the planet.  Obviously, getting the camp readied is a first priority.  And some scouting should be done as soon as possible.  Maybe we should delay intel gathering for the duration of our first day there and work up a schedule.  After all, time management is important.  Shy needs to be inst-

Viktor's rambling thoughts were cut off by a staticy, crackly voice coming from the ship's on-board communicator.  "So, uh, boss, did Moon mention anything to you about what happened to the Valiance beyond what we were told in the briefing?"

"No, Gore, and I don't see how that is relevant to anything," Viktor replied, irritated that he had been interrupted over such a stupid question.

"Well, do we know what happened to it?  I mean, it may have been destroyed, which could lead to survivors on the planet if the escape pods had been launched," Gore thought aloud.

"That'd sure make our job easier," Spy stated.

"Alternatively," Gore continued, ignoring Spy's interjection, "the Seps may have taken over the ship, and may plan to use to crew as hostages or some other sinister plot that only those soulless creeps could conceive of."

"I do see your point," Viktor conceded.  "Sadly, I don't have an answer.  The best we can do is hope that the Valiance's fate doesn't affect our mission for at least long enough so that we can ask Moon once we get back into contact with him."

"Alright.  Well, what if the CIS ships detect us once we're closer to the planet?  What then?"

"Um..." Viktor hesitated, trying to put the response as sensitively as possible.

"Well, we are in a stealth gunship, so was should be able to pass by unnoticed.  But, if we are caught..." Spy partially answered for him.
"Then we're dead," Viktor finished for him.

"Huh.  Well, I was going to say that our molecules would be used to perpetuate the cycle of life on some distant planet...but sure, the pessimistic approach works too," Spy deadpanned.

"Terrific," Gore proclaimed with false enthusiasm.  "I don't want to live on this planet anymore," he grumbled.

Spy turned as best as he could to Gore while Shy and Viktor exchanged glance up front.

"You're not on a planet," they said in unison, though Shy's contribution was meek and hardly noticeable.

"You...I'ma kill you all," Gore mumbled, adjusting the turret so that he was faced as far away from them as possible.


~~~LAAT/s, Atmosphere of US-01, 15 hours after the Ambush at US-01~~~




It was very dark.  The starry array of space, which had enveloped the gunship just minutes prior now shone dimly above them as they descended towards the planet's surface.  At first the clones saw decrepit and abandoned wastelands, which were shrouded in an eerie and unsettling green fog.  After a couple of minutes, they were close to their landing zone.  They passed over a large mountain range, which seemed to divide the land in two; inhospitable looking badlands on one side, and barren but much more aesthetically pleasing desert on the other.  To all of the clones' relief, their LZ was on the desert side of the mountain range.

Before long, their destination was in view.  In front of them sat two mesas, which stood isolated from any other geographic formation, with a gap between them that could fit their gunship and other gear snugly.  As an added bonus, the gap was nearly completely surrounded by large boulders, which would easily conceal their position and provide cover should the need arise.  Hopefully it wouldn't.

The gunship halted as they hovered over the LZ.  Viktor slowly descended, being careful to not make any jerky movements and smash the wings or cause damage by other means.  After a minute of careful maneuvering, the gunship touched earth, its silent thrusters kicking up a massive amount of dust as it sat idle.  Finally, the engines ceased running, and Victor squad began extracting themselves from the gunship.

Viktor and Shy shut off all unnecessary systems while Spy and Gore exited the turrets and checked the gear, which was a little shaken from the turbulence caused by entering the atmosphere, but was otherwise fine.  Viktor's seat lowered out of the cockpit, followed closely by Shy's, and they made their way into the troop bay where Spy, Gore, and R8 were waiting for instruction.

"Well, squad, looks like we made it," Viktor congratulated.  The rest of the squad nodded, or in R8's case, whistled their agreements.  "Spy and Gore, you're going to help me unload and set up camp.  For now, be on guard; we don't know if we've been traced yet.  Shy, you're to ride R8 up to the top of one of the mesas.  Take a grapple and find a suitable place for us to get a line up there.  Once you've done that, I want you to survey the area using your rifle.  R8, stay up there with Shy and stay alert for any Sep vehicles that come our way, specifically if they're searching for us."

"Yes sir," Spy and Gore said before opening the doors and boarding ramp.

Spy and Gore immediately went to work pulling the BARC speeders out of the bay.  Viktor made his way towards the specialized transmitter to bring it out of the gunship, but was stopped by Shy.

"I want to make sure I heard you correctly...you said, "ride R8", right?" he asked quietly, both confused and concerned.

"Yeah, that's what I said.  Um, I'd rather not get into the details, but just know that I modified him a little.  He had handles on his back and his boosters are capable of transporting a clone short distances quickly.  It's completely safe," Viktor assured.

"Oh...okay then," Shy half replied.

R8 waited for Shy outside of the gunship while Shy grabbed his equipment, namely his rifle and grenade pouch, which rattled as he lifted it and attached it to the back of his belt.  He approached the droid once he had what he needed.  The droid beeped and whirred at him excitedly, hopping up and down repeatedly to get Shy to hurry up.  Shy stared down to the hyper droid, mentally questioning whether or not riding an astromech was safe or, more importantly, sane.  It's an order, he thought, resolving himself.

Shy walked behind the droid, crouching to grasp the handles.  As soon as he had a firm grip, the droid boosted into the air, carrying Shy as his legs hung uselessly underneath him.  The urge to flail about was almost overwhelming to the terrified soldier.

Back on the ground, the remaining clones had unloaded the speeders, the ordinance crates, Gore's chain gun, and the transmitter.  Spy was helping Gore with a long and heavy crate of portable repulsor lifts.  He looked up to see Shy being helplessly dragged up the cliff face by the astromech, and tried to hold back a hysterical laugh at the pathetic sight.

Gore was not as amused.  His arms were hurting, and Spy's sudden pause to watch R8 and Shy tried Gore's already tired patience.  He could hear Spy chuckling, tryng poorly to contain some sort of laughter.  Gore decided to continue moving forward, knocking Spy off of his center of balance and having the crate land on top of his chest as Gore let go of his end.

"Ow!  Hey!  What the heck!?" Spy yelled as he tried to get the massive weight pinning him down off of him.

Gore sneered.  "You totally deserved that."

"Did not!  Now, get this crap off me," Spy demanded, still futilely pushing at the crate.  "What's in this crate that's so heavy anyways?"

"Repulsor lifts, a-"

Viktor interrupted Gore as he peered from around the boarding ramp.  He had been dealing with some of the smaller pieces of equipment when he heard a loud thump followed by Spy yelling.  "What did you two screw up now?"
"Spy had an accident," Gore responded immediately.

"I see that," Viktor replied, unamused.  "Why don't you help him?"

"I was going to, but you're distracting me."

During the brief exchange between Gore and Viktor, Spy had begun a short rant about how much of a jerk Gore was, how much of a jerk Viktor and Gore were being by ignoring him, and why they weren't helping him.  Suddenly, a thought came to Spy's mind.

"Why aren't we using these repulsor lifts to move our heavy equipment around?" he asked.

Gore and Viktor paused their discussion to look at Spy, who was still pinned, then looked back to each other.

"That's..." Gore began.

"That's a good idea.  Why weren't we doing that?" Viktor finished for him.




Progress towards finishing the encampment went speedily after Spy's epiphany.  Within the hour, they had the speeders off to the side, the ordinance organized, the transmitter ready to transmit, the radar jammers active, hammocks set up in the troop bay, and the rations and other survival gear distributed, with the extras packed in the gunship's storage compartments.  There was no more business that could be done until Shy came down, leaving them to resort to small chat, word games, and tic-tac-toe.




Shy lay on top of the mesa, trying to recuperate from the short but terrifying trip up the cliff face.  Flying without a solid surface under your feet is unnerving.  R8 sat next to him, prodding him with his now extended retractable leg in an attempt to get him to move.  After a few minutes of composing himself, Shy stood and immediately set about his task.  He found a sturdy ledge, and placed the grapple there before turning his attention to the horizon.

It was too dark for him to make anything out at a distance, so he switched his visor to low-light mode.  A quick look in all directions revealed nothing but flatlands except for the nearby mountain range, which had no interesting features visible at this distance.  A slight whirring sound came from his right.  Looking, Shy found it to be a spinning radar-like appendage protruding from R8's head meant to locate Separatist ships in the vicinity.

The quiet inside of Shy's helmet was abruptly broken with the cries of "Ow!  Hey!  What the heck!?", coming from Spy via helmet comm, reached him.  The sudden noise caused Shy to cringe.  After quickly checking the oxygen levels of the atmosphere with the science module and confirming that the air was breathable, Shy removed his helmet and set it on the ground near the edge of the mesa.

The air was dry, cool, and bland, a nice contrast to the overly-sterilized atmosphere of Kamino's structures, or the stale air of Republic cruisers.  He sat down and crossed his legs, taking some time to appreciate his surroundings and contemplate his mission.  Thoughts of Spy and all of the headaches he was bound to get from his pointless babbling caused him to rub his bald head and light scruffy beard in frustration and despair.  Gore and Viktor were alright, he decided, though they couldn't match his old squad.  No, don't think about that.  In an attempt to divert his thoughts, Shy grabbed the grenade pouch from the back of his belt and opened it.

Contrary to its name, Shy didn't have any grenades in the pouch.  Instead, a dull dark grey rod-like device was dumped out of it.  It was cylindrical for most of its length, except for the hollow rectangular end, which protruded past a piece that resembled a cross guard.  The cylindrical portion of the rod was long and thick enough for Shy to put both of his hands around it comfortably.

Shy stared at the device, wondering if he would need to use it, but hoping that the need would not arise.  He sat like that for a few minutes before having his back prodded by R8; or more accurately, before having R8 roll into him at R8's fastest ground speed.  The impact jolted Shy out of his stupor, and he quickly placed the cylindrical device beck in his pouch before returning to his assignment.  He removed his DC-15a from his back, though refrained from replacing his helmet, rather enjoying the silence that came with not hearing Spy.

Shy rested himself on his chest and elbows a few feet from one of the edges of the mesa facing the mountain range.  He aligned his eye with the rifle's scope and peered through at two times zoom, and in low-light mode.

He gazed across the mountain range for several minutes, switching zoom levels and making notes that would eventually make it to an intel report.  The mountains closely resembled mountains found on planets like Naboo and Alderaan, though this specific range lacked any type of vegetation as far as he could tell, though the low-light setting was probably screwing with his visuals.  He'd have to try looking again at a more optimal light level.  Even at the times twenty zoom, the mountains were still relatively distant, and he doubted that he would find anything of importance in the other directions.

Still, he diligently went about his survey.  A quick glance around at two times zoom revealed nothing of particular interest; only a few shrubs and some decent sized rocks.  After finishing his sweep, he returned to the original starting point and retried at ten times zoom.  This yielded more interesting results.  He found a light trail of what appeared to be hoof prints in the dry, cracked ground.  Based on the conditions, Shy figured that the prints were made by a bantha-like creature, but he would hold off on concluding this until he could observe the prints more fully.  He could also conclude that rain was rare in this part.  Just my luck that I end up in the Tatooine end of wherever this place is.  However, after some thinking back to the fog-covered region he had seen, he figured it could be worse.

Shy also observed a small spot of light on the horizon, but dismissed it as a low-lying star.

Finally, Shy's final sweep of the area, this time using times twenty zoom, began.  He took his time with this sweep, noting every detail he could see, which unfortunately wasn't many due to the low-light mode and high zoom.  Upon reaching the halfway point, all he had found was one interesting but insignificant rock formation.

Eventually, Shy's rifle was pointed at the spot of light he had seen earlier.  It was really bright now, and too large to be a star.  The contrast was unfortunately too much for him to make much out, but there were figures in the light.  He could see two relatively large, unmoving, blurry black blobs, as well as the occasional tiny dot scurry across his line of sight.  Shy's focus remained on the light for several minutes before he decided that he should finish his sweep and compile his findings.  Along the remainder of his sweep, he noticed what appeared to be tracks, presumably for some sort of vehicle.  His gaze followed the tracks until he could no longer see them, and at that point, the light he had been observing was in the center of his view again.  Prehaps it's a civilization, he pondered.  Shortly afterwards, he felt that he had spent enough time observing and needed to report his findings.

Shy spent around ten minutes recording his notes on the holopad he had brought with him and sorted out which bits of data were immediately important for the rest of the squad to know.  Once this was finished, Shy had no further need to be on the mesa.  He stood and walked towards the grapple he had placed earlier.  He attached the grapple to the ascension cable on his DC and rappelled down the mesa.


~~~LZ, US-01, 16 hours and 30 minutes after the Ambush at US-01~~~




The LZ's preparations were complete and all of the members of Victor squad were now all in the crevasse that was their new home.  Shy and R8 had descended from the mesa around a half hour ago, and since then, Shy and Viktor had been discussing the data Shy had collected, trying to determine their course of action.

In one of the large, open areas of the camp, Spy and Gore were disputing the claim Spy had made earlier regarding his hand-to-hand combat abilities.  Disputing by means of physically testing Spy's theory, to be precise.  They, as well as R8 as referee, had been at this for around the last twenty minutes, and each bout ended quickly and with Gore being pinned on the ground.  Stubbornly, Gore wanted to test Spy again.

They distanced themselves around ten feet and faced each other, each in a boxing stance.  In each of Gore's previous attempt to usurp the current champion, he had made the first move, which each led to him on the ground.  He figured that he would let Spy move first this time, and hopefully he would be able to land a powerful counter-blow.

R8 gave the signal that the round had started, and, to Gore's delight, Spy did move first.  Spy awkwardly leapt towards him a few feet, but maintained his arm position and refrained from making any sort of aggressive move.  As soon as Spy landed, Gore lunged forward and tried a strong uppercut with his right arm.  Spy leaned back, letting Gore's arm sail a few inches from his head and chest, and pushed Gore's arm up after Gore had finished his motion.  Gore's balance was thrown off due to Spy's shove, and Spy followed it up with a heavy punch to the face, sending Gore sprawling to the dirt.  R8 gave the signal that Gore had lost this bout.

Spy strolled over to where Gore lay and offered a hand to help him up, which Gore accepted.

"You're quite predictable," Spy said to Gore as he helped him brush some dust off his armor.  "It's like I know exactly what you're going to do next."

"I get it; there's no need for you to rub it in," Gore retaliated.

"Yes there is," Spy said innocently.  "Cuz this means I'm better than you, and I want to make sure you know that," he continued with a sheepish grin, which was unfortunately covered by his helmet.

Gore growled in annoyance and clenched his fist.

"Oh, and it's to make up for you dropping that crate on me earlier," said Spy, after seeing that his attempt at humor failed to ease Gore.

"At least that was funny," Gore spat.

"Actually, that was quite mea-" Spy began, before Viktor yelled at them to "Shut up" from across the camp.

After an awkward silence, Spy spoke up.  "Well, looks like it's settled, then.  I appear to be at least your superior in hand-to-hand combat."

"You brag about that one more time and I'll break your jaw."

"If you could land a hit there maybe..." Spy said, putting a hand to his chin in thought.  Gore swung at him after he finished his comment, but he swiftly dodged.

"I said shut up!" Viktor yelled again.  "Get your shebs over here; We've got stuff to discuss, and I don't feel like yelling."  As Spy and Gore sauntered over, Viktor mumbled to himself, "Honestly, if there was a way to just delete their mouths, I'd go for it."  Shy nodded in agreement.

Viktor began a quick briefing as soon as Spy and Gore got near and seated themselves.  "Alright, thanks to Shy, we've got a little bit of data to give to Moon."  Viktor diverted his attention to the holopad Shy had made his notes on.  "So far, he's determined that the air is breathable for humans, saying that the atmosphere here is basically identical to planets similar to Naboo.  There are also indications of this planet being inhabited.  Off in a that way direction," he said while pointing roughly in the direction Shy had noticed the hoof-prints, "are some tracks to, what Shy says, 'could possibly be a small bantha-like creature, though further study needs to be done before any conclusions can be made'.  Shy also noted a possible civilization over there," he said, this time pointing and looking in the direction opposite that of the nearby mountains.  He redirected his gaze to the holopad.  "There also appears to be some set of vehicle tracks leading to the suspected civilization.  That's all that Shy has gotten so far.  Before we decide what our course of action will be, I'd like to state R8 has determined that we got past the Seps unnoticed."

"Yep, I knew we would," Spy said.  "I mean, it was a guarantee that we would; after all, you've got me here with you."

"From what I've seen, you being here is detrimental to being stealthy," Gore panned.

Viktor growled, causing Spy and Gore to return their attention to him.  "Listen guys, we've got a job to do and this is supposed to be a serious discussion.  Save your useless banter for after we've made the important decisions."

Spy opened his mouth, ready to give a snide remark, but decided that Viktor was right, so he simply said, "Eh, yeah, you're right.  Sorry, Vikky."  Gore non-verbally agreed.

Viktor prepared himself to lash out against Spy for calling him Vikky again, but stopped himself after seeing how hypocritical it would be to do that, so instead, he just continued as if nothing had happened.  "So, now that we've got some leads, we've got to determine our next move.  Shy and I figured that we should head out to the hoof-prints via BARC shortly after we wake.  We let Shy study them for a while, then we move on to the possible civilization, and see if we can't find any more good intel."

"Sounds good to me," said Spy.

Gore took a moment to contemplate before saying, "Plan's good; makes sense, but how do you propose we approach this supposed civilization?  Do we want to follow the tracks, which would give us a clear path but make us likely to be seen, or do we try to find an indirect  path to it.  Also, do we want to let the civvys know we're here, or do we remain hidden?  Oh, and how close do we want to get to observe them?"

Viktor huffed.  "You make good points, Gore.  I wish you were more astute more often," he chided.  "To answer your questions, I was thinking that we follow the tracks, but we try to keep our distance from it.  We want to be able to get close enough that we can clearly see the possible civilization through Shy's and I's times ten scope.  We want to avoid contact with any civvys."

"Well, I've got no further qualms, then," Gore said, leaning back on his elbows.

"Excellent," Viktor said, satisfied.  He glanced to the starry sky, then to the sliver of moon that was showing.  "It looks like it's late.  We'll head out in twelve hours, and spit watch duty into four three-hour shifts.  Shy, you take the first one, and leave your rifle for the next one of us to use.  Once you're done, feel free to pick who gets next shift.  Alert us if anything weird happens."

Shy nodded and began his ascent up the cliff, using the grapple he had placed earlier this time.  Viktor turned to regard the other two clones that were awaiting dismissal.  "I'm going to hit the hay now, and I want you two to do the same within an hour.  Dismissed."  They stood and nodded, surprising Viktor be heading towards the gunship, presumably to sleep, instead of heading somewhere else to cause trouble, leaving Viktor alone to his thoughts.

Spy and Gore stepped into the troop bay, which had earlier been converted into their sleeping area.  Spy claimed the hammock closest to the now closed boarding ramp, and Gore took the one next to him.  As Spy made himself comfortable, he noticed that R8 was sitting deactivated on the side of him opposite of Gore.  He looked to the droid and patted its domed head.  He turned away, clasping his hands behind his head and looking to the roof of the gunship, saying "Goodnight, Lumpy," before dozing off to sleep...

...Only to be awaked a couple of seconds later by a sharp jolt to his armpit.  "Ow!" he yelped, looking down to the taser appendage R8 had zapped him with.  The zap didn't hurt, but it so unexpected that he couldn't help himself from saying so.  "That was rude.  Gore did you see that?" he asked, directing his attention to Gore, who had removed his helmet and was already sleeping heavily.  He looked back to the droid, who was whirring and whistling angrily at him.  "That was uncalled for, Lumpy," Spy said to the droid.  R8's angry noises increased in volume and he zapped Spy again.  "Hey!  Cut that out!  Just-just go to your corner and leave me alone," he scolded, pointing to a far corner of the gunship.  R8 beeped which, Spy assumed was his way of saying "humph", and retreated to his original spot, deactivating himself.  Spy grumbled to himself a little about the droid's poor behavior before succumbing to sleep.

Shortly afterwards, Viktor made his way to the gunship and began his rest.




Once again, Shy found himself alone atop the mesa.  However, this time, he was thoroughly alone; not even R8 decided to spend the night awake with him.  After having spent well over an hour in the same spot, he was felt that he knew his surroundings well enough to relax.  As a side effect, he also had nothing to occupy himself with.  Thus, his thoughts strayed.  At first, his thoughts were of a more mundane nature; how the gentle breeze felt upon his exposed face, what his meals would be like for the duration of his adventure, and other similar thoughts.

The last ten and a half hours had been quite wearying upon Shy, especially with regards to his resolve to avoid reflecting upon his past squad.  Ever since the incident, he had been tormented, his dreams riddled with with the dying screams of his brothers, his waking moments saturated with the guilt of letting them perish.  For the most part, however, he had been able to suppress his emotions.

At least until then and a half hours ago, when he met Viktor.  Something about him reminded Shy of his former squad leader for some inexplicable reason.  Not inexplicable; everything can be decided within reason, he mentally argued with his scientific mindset in an attempt to regain control.  Could it be because Viktor acts like my former Captain?  Or is it because he's a commando?  Shy was unsure, but was too tired to try to formulate an answer.  As weariness wore upon him, his musing became distant and muddled.




Shy discovered that three hours pass quickly when the stress of a couple years of one's strictly regulated emotions finally break through their wall of steel known as resolve, and they try futilely to rebuild.  He dejectedly rappelled down the cliff face again via his rifle's ascension cable, leaving it dangling from the line for the next one to take watch with.  His spirits lightened slightly when he entered the gunship door and saw his squadmates resting peacefully, knowing that he could exact some slight compensation for an unnecessary headache upon one particularly deserving clone...

Spy spent the next three hours drowsily sputtering meaningless nonsense about his wonderful dream consisting of 'rainbows and unicorns and flying horses' being crudely interrupted.


~~~Sheriff's Office, Appleloosa, 1 day after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




The bright morning sun was making its way over the horizon, painting the sky and small township of Appleloosa various shades of orange, pink, and blue.  A gentle chill breeze drifted between the various buildings that lined the main stretch of the town, which was slowly coming to life as shops and saloons prepared for opening hour.  A few ponies strolled through the road, some with purpose, and some simply enjoying a morning walk.  Among these ponies was Braeburn, the town's lead apple farmer and almost the mayor figure of the town.

Most days, he would set out early to relax in the morning conditions, and was usually accompanied by his friend, Sheriff Silverstar.  Silverstar could usually be found waiting for him on the porch to his office, but in the cases where he was unavailable, he always left a note explaining why, unless it was obvious.

Thus, Braeburn was puzzled to find no signs of Silverstar in the porch nor a note explaining his absence on the door.  Braeburn approached the door with caution, hoping that his friend was not in any sort of trouble.  A voice from behind the door seemed to answer his concerns.  "Ah know it's a direct decree, but this type'a job can't be handled but just one pony like mahself."  It was Silverstar.

Curious as to Silverstar's plight, Braeburn knocked on the door.

"Uh, sorry pardner, I'm a might busy at the moment, yall'll haveta' come back later," Silverstar replied from inside.

"Star, it's me, Braeburn.  Can Ah come in?"

"Oh, Braeburn, sorry.  Ah didn't recognize ya voice there for a sec," he apologized.  Presumably to somepony else inside, Silverstar said, "Wouldja mind gettin' the door for 'im?"

Braeburn heard some hoof steps from the other side of the door before the pony opened it for him, and he found himself face-to-face with...

...A bat pony?  Luna's night guard?  Why're they here?

The guard stepped aside and allowed Braeburn to enter, where he saw another one of Luna's guard standing across from Silverstar, who was seated at his desk, grimly staring at a piece of parchment in front of him.

"Hey, Brae," he said, not looking up.  "Sorry Ah can't join ya on yer walk.  I'd like ta, but I gotta big order from her highness herself."

"Oh, really?  What could she be possibly wantin' from us?" he asked, genuinely intrigued.

The night guard who stood near Silverstar spoke up.  "Her majesties Celestia and Luna hast formed a decree this past night requesting the presence of all ponies under their jurisdiction to assemble in Canterlot and its immediate areas."

Braeburn stared blankly at the guards.  "Say who ta what now?"

"The princesses want all of their subjects to gather at Canterlot for some big announcement or somethin'.  Since I'm the sheriff, I guess I've been put in charge of makin' sure all uh Appleloosa gets on them trains an' up to Canterlot." Silverstar clarified.  "Not terribly difficult, but still, it's uh lot fer just one pony to coerd'nate."

"Thine princesses request it of thee, and would like their demands met in a timely manner," the guard who had opened the door said off-handedly.

"Ah know," Silverstar said with a sigh, "but it's just somethin' that can't be expected ta happen in just'a few hours."

"Ah could help ya ya know," Braeburn offered.

Silverstar perked up.  "Really?  That'd be wonderful.  If yall'n them guards could spread the word 'round, I can get the trains ready, an' I think that'll be all we really need ta do, aside from makin' sure everypony moves along at uh steady pace."

The guards nodded in agreement.  Braeburn turned towards the guards before asking, "What'll we tell everypony what they need ta bring?"

"The princesses shall ensure that shelter, food, and beds be provided for everypony who makes themselves present.  Thus, they will be fine with bringing nothing," one of the guards responded.

With those details out of way, Braeburn and Silverstar said their farewells and headed off to do their self-assigned duties.


~~~Golden Oaks Library, Ponyville, 1 day after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




Rays of sunlight brutally assaulted Spike's closed eyelids.  He stirred, but couldn't force himself bask to sleep.  Groggily, Spike sat himself, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and stretching to prepare himself for another tiring day of chores.  Underneath the window that so rudely allowed photons to enter and intrude his slumber was Twilight Sparkle's unoccupied bed.  It looked as if Twilight hadn't spent any time in it at all during the night, something that the studious unicorn was doing more regularly than was healthy.

Oh well.  At least I don't have to make her bed this morning.

Spike made his way down the small staircase that led to the library's main room, and just as he predicted, Twilight sat at the table in the center, reading.

"Morning, Twilight," he greeted, receiving a grunt in response.

A flash of annoyance passed over his face.  She could be so rude, sometimes; especially when she was engrained in her studies.  She didn't mean it though, so Spike quickly forgave her.

"Had breakfast yet?" he inquired, wondering if that was another chore that he could get away with not doing.  Twilight said nothing, but raised a glass of some sort of black liquid so that Spike could see it before taking a large gulp.  She gagged as the foul liquid passes down he throat.

"Burnt juice again?  Seriously, how is it so hard for you to not burn your food...or drinks," he deadpanned, before heading into the kitchen to prepare an actual meal for the two of them.

Broken out her 'relentless study mode' by consuming the terrible drink, the effects of a night without sleep began to bear down on her.  Pushing the book she had been reading aside, she folded her front legs on the table and rested her head on them.  She began to doze, but a loud rumble from outside snapped her awake instantly.

No, that rumble wasn't from outside...

Her stomach growled again.  I need to stop skipping meals, she thought.  The delicious scent of pancakes and hay fries wafted in from the kitchen, causing Twilight's stomach to growl even more profusely.  In an attempt to distract herself from the smells that were amplifying here hunger, which were in turn preventing her from napping, she pulled the book back towards her and tried to read.

Knock.  Knock.

Who would come by at this hour?  The library's not even open!  Groaning, she pulled herself out of her chair and walked towards the door, ready to give a verbal beating to the pony who was so blatantly disregarding the library's policies.

"Whaddya want?" she almost yelled as she opened the door, words unintentionally slurring due to her weariness.  It took her a second to notice that it was Rarity who stood in front of her with a concerned look on her face.

"Twilight, darling, are you alright?  You look like a mess.  Did you stay up all night again?"  inquired Rarity.

"Oh, hi Rarity, sorry for yelling at you.  Come in," Twilight apologized, stepping aside to let Rarity through.  "Yeah, I skipped sleep...again," she continued as Rarity walked by, closing the door once Rarity had made her way in.

"You should really stop doing that so often, Twilight.  It's unhealthy and it really shows in your complexion," Rarity scolded.  "What is that smell?  Is Spikey-Wikey making his marvelous pancakes again?"

Twilight nodded.  "Yeah, he is.  And I'm glad, too.  Burnt juice tastes really bad, though is does wonders to wake you up."

"You burn your juice too?  That's...somewhat of a relief," Rarity said.  "At least Sweetie Belle isn't the only one."

"Gee, thanks for equating my juice preparing skills to that of a filly.  Does wonders for my self-esteem," Twilight replied sarcastically, though the sarcasm was lost.

Rarity reared back.  She had not come over to insult her friend!  She had to correct herself.  "I-I'm sorry Twilight, I didn't mean it like that.  I-"

"Relax, I'm teasing," Twilight said.  Rarity sighed in relief.  "So, care to explain why you're here?"

Taking a moment to remember why she had indeed come to Twilight, she said, "Yes.  Well, you see, I received a special order late last night for some outfits in a more...outdated style.  Yes, and I came over to see if you had a book which described these styles of outfits that I could use for reference."

"Yeah, I've got stuff about that.  I'll find you one after we've eaten.  That is, if you're interested in sharing some breakfast."

"Oh, most indubitably, Twilight.  I'd love to."

Several minutes later, Spike came out of the kitchen carrying two platters, one piled high with pancakes, and the other generously doused in hay fries.  He went to the table where the two mares were waiting patiently for him.  Setting the platters down in front of them, he bowed, saying, "Enjoy, my ladies."

"Oh, why thanks ever so much, Spike," Rarity said, to which Spike assumed a standing posture and said, "It's my pleas-BELCH"

Green flames projected from his mouth, and out of them, a regal letter shot out at a high velocity, hitting Rarity directly in the face.  Spike relentlessly apologized, and Twilight couldn't help but laugh at the situation as she grabbed the letter with her magic.

Ignoring Spike and Rarity, who was assuring Spike that it was fine while simultaneously scolding him for his unexcused burp, she read the letter:


Dear Twilight Sparkle,

A new era for Equestria is about to begin.  In fact, it will begin tomorrow, and it is important that all able-bodied ponies from across Equestria are present in Canterlot at that time.

It is important that you and the other Elements of Harmony ensure that Ponyville is successfully ferried to Conterlot.  I will be sending guards to assist you with this, and to explain the situation to any who ask, as I doubt that I will be able to explain via letter.

Attached to this letter is a note from me to the conductors of the Ponyville train station, which I would like delivered to them as soon as possible.  Additionally, I will be sending a chariot for you and the Elements.  When you all are ready, it will bring you to Canterlot, where you'll see this glorious era begin first hand.


Thank you and good luck,

Princess Celestia and Princess Luna


Upon finishing the letter, Twilight was giddy with excitement, all weariness forgotten.

"What does it say, Twilight?" Rarity asked.

Twilight grinned.  "We've got an assignment from the princesses!"


~~~LZ, US-01, 1 day and 5 hours after the Ambush at US-01~~~




After touching ground, Gore detached the ascension cable from Shy's rife and mounted the weapon on his back.  The sun was high in the sky and shone down brightly upon the LZ.  It wasn't quite noon yet, but It was getting close; Viktor must have underestimated the lateness of the hour when he ordered everyone to sleep.  Regardless of the exact time, it had been approximately twelve hours since they had begun sleeping, and now it was time to progress their mission.

Actually, now was the fun part of getting the squad to wake up.  R8 was already about, scurrying between the pieces of equipment they had brought and making sure that is was functioning properly.  Not that Gore had wanted to rudely awake R8; he heard the droid zap Spy twice for calling it 'Lumpy'.  Gore was not interested in getting a similar experience.

Gore strode to hammocks that bore Shy and Viktor, which were conveniently adjacent to each other.  He removed his helmet as shook each of their shoulders softly.  This prompted Shy awake, and Gore indicated to him to stay silent.  After all, Shy was definitely the noisiest out of all of them (sarcasm).  Viktor, however, resisted the motion, but was stirred awake after a few taps to his visor.  Again, Gore indicated to him to remain silent.

Gore stalked over to where Spy lay and carefully contemplated his next move.  He really wanted to just flip the hammock over, but that was a bit too simple.  He needed to do something more drastic...

Finally, an idea.  He silently made his way to the end of the hammock cradling Spy's head.  Reaching for the knot that held the hammock up, he slowly pulled on the cords.  Looser and looser he made them until, finally, Spy's weight was too much for the weakened knot to handle.

Spy crashed to the floor head first, and let out a moan that seemed to be a mix of tiredness, anger, and pain.  Gore glanced to Viktor, who was holding his helmet, and indicated to him to leave the gunship.

Coming to his senses, Spy stood up and looked around, only to find that no one was present in the gunship.  He looked to where the end of the hammock had previously been suspended and sighed, cursing his poor knot-tying skills.




Now that everyone was awake and in a good mood, it was time for Victor squad to prepare for the day's happenings.  After eating bland rations as their breakfasts, the squad checked their weapons and the BARCs to ensure they would be running properly.  They hoped that their weapons wouldn't be needed, but their guard would be up regardless.

The squad was about to leave, but were stopped when Gore made yet another astute observation.  He found that, when he placed his chain gun on his back, the weight made him fall over.

"This is going to be a problem," he muttered, struggling to stand.

Spy laughed, but Shy and Viktor shared concerned looks.

Gore got to his feet and set the chain gun on the ground in front of him, looking at Shy and Viktor, hoping that one of them would have a solution.

"I could modify this a bit," said Shy quietly.  "I should be able to attach one of the repulsor lifts to is, and make it so that it is activated when the magnetization module is activated.  That should be able to help counter the weight."

Gore looked to Shy, surprised that he was capable of saying more than two sentences back-to-back.  Shy looked to Viktor for approval.

"If you can get it finished within an hour, go a head and do it now.  If not, it'll have to wait until we return," Viktor ordered.




In less than an hour's time, Shy had managed to make his proposed system work flawlessly.  Gore was now able to carry his chain gun while it was magnetized on his back, and as long as his back wasn't near horizontal, the weapon actually felt weightless.

With that problem dealt with, Victor squad was headed towards the hoof prints that Shy had wanted to study.  They left R8 behind to monitor the equipment.

Not long after heading out, they had already reached the prints.  Shy handed his rifle to Spy, who used it to check to horizon, while Viktor and Gore established a perimeter.

"So I don't know if you saw anything," Gore said to Viktor via helmet comm while Shy worked, "but throughout my entire watch, there was seemingly a lot of activity in the direction of the suspected civilization."

"Yeah, I saw some activity during the last half of my watch as well," Viktor agreed.  "It was getting to be morning, though, so I'd be willing to bet that whatever they are, they're not nocturnal."

"Ugh, why did I have to get the shift that had nothing interesting happen?" Spy complained.  "Even now, there's nothing going on in that direction."

Viktor and Gore looked towards the suspected settlement, though it was too distant for them to actually see anything.  "Huh," Viktor said.  "Maybe they are nocturnal?"




Twenty minutes passed, and Victor squad was still at the hoof prints.  Viktor liked to consider himself patient, but even now, he was starting to get restless.  How could a simple set of tracks be so interesting?, he wondered.  Shy didn't appear to have moved much since the last time Viktor had glanced at him a few minutes ago, so he decided to see what Shy had found so far.

"Got anything to report, Shy?"

Shy took his time responding.  "Um, well, this track was made by a creature with some sort of split hoof.  I originally suspected that they were from a batha-like creature, but as you can see, this only splits once, while banthas have two divergences on their hooves.  I also found a small tuft of fur near one of these prints.  It was brown, long, and thick, similar to a bantha.  So while the things that made these tracks are not banthas, it would be pretty safe to say that they were made by something similar to a bantha; closer to a dwarf bantha, I should say, given the small size."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah.  The moisture content of the dirt in this region seems to be quite low.  It's likely that is hasn't rained for a while, and based on the cloud patterns that I've observed, it's not likely that it will rain soon.  Basically, were in this planet's version of Tatooine."

Lovely, Viktor thought.  At least the planet isn't entirely like this, unlike Tatooine.  Reflecting on what he had just been told, Viktor found it surprising how conversational Shy was when talking about stuff that was more...sciencey.

He looked to the sky and saw that the sun had made relatively significant progress.  "Good work, but we should probably get going now.  I want to be back at the LZ by nightfall."

After receiving a nod from Shy, Victor squad loaded their speeders and headed towards the suspected civilization.


~~~Ponyville Train Station, Ponyville, 1 day, 3 hours and 30 minutes after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




Twilight was not surprised that Ponyville had made its way onto the trains to Canterlot at an astoundingly quick pace.  She had her expert organizational skills to thank for that...as well as the town's proximity to Canterlot, the willingness of the townsponies to cooperate, her friends, the guards that Celestia had sent-

Okay, so maybe Twilight's contribution was only a small part of the wonderful success, but regardless of how it happened, it did, and she was proud of the accomplishment.

Finally, the last train departed from the station, leaving the Elements of Harmony and their escort behind to make their own way to Canterlot.  After boarding the chariot, the group took off.  In a couple of short hours, Twilight would get to see her beloved teacher again, and finally appease her curiosity about this 'new era for Equestria'.


~~~Appleloosa Train Station, Appleloosa, 1 day and 5 hours after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




Braeburn was surprised at how quickly he and Silverstar had managed to get all of Appleloosa onto the trains to Canterlot.  Actually, it wasn't all that surprising.  Most of the ponies in the town had never been to Canterlot, and would jump at the chance to go free of charge.  The citizens were pleasantly cooperative and willing to leave their belongings with the assurance that is would only be three days at the most that they'd be gone.  It was nice to see everything run smoothly.

"All of the ponies hast been escorted onto the trains save us," said one of the night guards who stood behind Braeburn.

"Whoo, that's what Ah like ta hear," he cheered, proud to have been efficient and effective at complying with his princesses.  "I guess we should be getting on now, eh, 'Star?"

"Ah agree.  Let's go."

Braeburn, Silverstar, and the two night guards made their way onto the last train out of Appleloosa and began their trip to Canterlot.


~~~Outskirts of Suspected Civilization, US-01, 1 day, 7 hours and 25 minutes after the Ambush at US-01~~~




Well, this was unexpected.  In front of Victor squad lay an entire township.  Entire, except for any sort of civilian.  It couldn't have been abandoned for long; the buildings were completely intact and nothing looked incredibly worn down.

They were still a good few hundred feet from the town, each looking at it though the binoculars built into their helmets, except for Shy who used his rifle scope.  Needless to say, the scenario was strange and a bit discomforting; perhaps they would need their weapons after all.

"I really can't see any signs of life," Spy said.

No one responded; they had all come to that conclusion several minutes ago.

"Maybe we should go in and investigate," Gore suggested.  "After all, we need to collect data on all of the species that we can, and what better way to do so that to see their handiwork firsthand?"

Viktor considered this very true fact.

"And I doubt that we'd be in any real danger if we get found.  We've not seen any signs of any tinnies, plus those buildings are made of wood, indicative of a low state of technological advancement."

"Lotta big words there, smart guy," Spy teased.

"Shut up, you probably didn't even know what I meant," Gore retorted.

"Of course I know what you meant," Spy defended.  "You called them dumb."

"Like you."

"Knock it off," Viktor seethed.

After a few seconds, the tension levels lowered.  At least until Spy spoke again.  "That was a lousy comeback."

Viktor facepalmed.




Victor squad carefully eased themself what was presumably the main road of the town, making sure not to break formation.  Gore took point, spinning the barrels of his weapon to be prepared for an attack should one come.  Spy and Shy covered the left and right flanks respectively, though Shy was wielding his pistols rather than his rifle due to the close-quarters nature of their surroundings.  Viktor took the rear, checking and rechecking every possible point from which they could be ambushed with his DC-17.

The squad made it completely down the road without any complications.  At this point, Viktor was about ready to declare the town abandoned.  It was still a strange sight, though; there were no signs of any type of conflict, all of the stores still had goods, and no windows were boarded or broken.  It was almost as if everyone in the town just took off at the same time.

Viktor was also able to confirm the last point Gore had made regarding the civilization's level of technological advancement.  They were really underdeveloped.  He doubted that any of them were at risk of being injured, even if there was an ambush waiting for them.  The tension released itself from Viktor, something the rest of the squad seemed to pick up on, and they too relaxed and lowered their weapons.

"So what now, boss?" Spy asked.  Spy seemed to always be the first to talk.

He hadn't really thought this through; he had no idea what to do next.  "I don't know," he finally said.  "Any ideas?"

"I have one, sir," aid Shy.  "We should split up and and search all of the unlocked buildings.  Look through them and report your findings to me, but don't touch anything."

"Sounds good, but what if there are no unlocked buildings?" Gore asked.

"Anyone here know how to lockpick?" Viktor asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

Spy raised his hand, and Shy raised his slightly.  "I've got a little experience," he said.

"Good.  Shy and I will check the buildings down this road.  Spy and Gore, go...somewhere else, I don't think it really matters where, just stay in contact.  Feel free to pick any locked doors, but don't break any of the locks and don't touch anything inside the buildings you enter.  And lock the door behind you as you leave."

Spy and Gore saluted and walked away.  Viktor turned and nodded to Shy, and they were off.




After an hour of searching, Victor squad had made some minor progress with their data collection.  They had discovered that the species that had inhabited the town were equine in form, very similar to a horse, but with a few differences, mainly in head shape, coat color, and eye size, though some also bore wings or a horn.  Fortunately for the clones, Spy and Gore had managed to find photographs of the ex-inhabitants in some of the houses they broke into, providing Victor squad with the visual details they had collected.  There was probably more that Shy could gather from the images, but, pressed for time, the best that could be done is scan the images now to be analyzed later.

Shy and Viktor had been having significantly less luck with finding information.  They had almost reached the end of the road, and, having forced themselves into every building up to that point, discovered that the members of this species were herbivores and short.  They had bumper their heads on the ceilings a few times to testify that last point.

Viktor found himself peering through a large window to what appeared o be a general store of sorts while Shy messed with the lock on the door.  There were cooking utensils and other such household maintenance items visible on the shelves; nothing they hadn't seen in another building already.  Viktor really doubted that any new information would be found in this building, but it couldn't hurt to check.  A few seconds after Shy and started fiddling with the lock, the door creaked open.

Lighting inside was not optimal; thanks to the position of the sun, not enough light got in to make seeing easy, but it wasn't dark enough to justify using low-light mode.  They would have to do with their floodlights.

They hunched their through the store's aisles, seeing nothing of interest along the way.  They met up in the front of the store after completing their search, each disappointed that more of their time had been wasted.  Viktor turned to leave, but Shy stayed put, seeming lost in thought.

"You know, since this is a store, it's likely to have some sort of currency lying about," Shy said, probably thinking out loud as opposed to trying to make a point.

"Yeah.  But we're not going to be taking any of their money, if that's what you're thinking," Viktor responded.

"Oh, I would never consider stealing it, but maybe it would be beneficial for us to look at some of it."

Confused as to where this train of thought was going, Viktor questioned why.

"Well, it's obvious that this society is underdeveloped, which means that is probably doesn't use digital currency like we do.  At least in our galaxy, older civilizations used coins with impressions of their society's  leader on them as currency.  If this society is similar, then we might be able to get some information about their leader figures," Shy explained.

Viktor agreed, and together they made their way to the store's cash register.  Shy picked the lock on it and pulled out a tray filled with tiny gold coins.  Picking one up and holding in front of his science module's scanner, he began to observe the coin.  Viktor watched as Shy stared at the coin, and tried to find something divert his attention to.

Off in one of the store's back corners was a barrel filled with scrolls and a sign labeled 'Maps' above it.  Viktor couldn't believe his squad's fortune.  He walked over, taking one of the maps out of the barrel and unrolled it.

"Shy, drop the coin.  I found a map."

Shy immediately dropped the coin back into the register and closed it, rushing over to Viktor's side as he studied he map.

Shy stared at the map that Viktor held for a few seconds.  Something about it was curious.

"These things...speak Basic?"

That slight detail had slipped past Viktor's mind while he had been looking over the map, but now that Shy had pointed it out, the coincidence seemed almost too good to be true.  That, and also somewhat strange.

"I know that I said we're not stealing things, but this map might be a bit to valuable for us to simply leave behind.  I'm grabbing a couple, and then we're getting out of here," Viktor said.  He and Shy left the store, locking the door behind them, and made for Spy and Gore's location.


~~~LZ, Equestria, 1 day and 13 hours after the Ambush at US-01~~~




Overall, Viktor felt that the day had been successful.  He and his squad had identified at least one of the planet's indigenous species, made a reasonable analysis of the lifestyle led by the species that they knew they had identified, and found a map depicting their geographical location, albeit there was some dispute over their location on the map, since two locations seemed to match their surroundings.  Despite the dispute, they at least knew that they were in a place called Equestria.  Whether that was the name of the country, region, or planet was still to be determined, but it was a start.

Viktor felt that his squad deserved some rest, so let them off to sleep once they had given Shy all of the data they had collected, saying that they would worry about tomorrow's plans tomorrow.  Viktor decided to take the first watch while his Spy and Gore slept and while Shy mulled over their findings and prepared a report for Sargent Moon.

It was evening when his shift started, and he watched as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, casting the world into another starry night.  Looking up to the sky, Viktor admired the brightly shining full moon that occupied the majority of the sky.  Wait, full moon?  It was just a crescent moon last night.  Either this planet has really fast-paced moon phases, or someone decides how the moon looks each night.  Pfft, that's unreasonable...definitely fast moon phases.

Now that that was resolved, it was time for Viktor to actually keep watch, though his experience so far told him that there was really no need; they hadn't encountered any type of hostilities yet.  Yet.




Viktor waited peacefully on top of the mesa, observing his surroundings casually through his DC-17 sniper, before something caught his eye.  In the distance, something in the sky gave a hint of reflected moonlight.  Speedily moving his crosshairs over the disturbance, he zoomed in on it to find...

Ugh, why do the Seps have to come and ruin everything?

...that it was a droid transport.  More motion in the distance was picked up by his infrared scope.

And what is that swarm?
> Chapter 5: Friend or Fiend?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~~Throne Room, Canterlot, 1 day and 1 hour after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




"You summoned me?"

"Yes, Grievous, I did," Celestia started.  She began to smile slightly, continuing.  "Luna and I have reached a decision.  Equestria is willing to accept your protection, as long as we can finalize a couple minor details."

Grievous was elated.  He had expected to get the princesses on his side sooner or later, though he considered the latter to be the likely case.  Not that he was complaining; it's just that there were usually complications in his plans.  This was a nice change of pace from Grievous's regular routine.

"Of course, your highness," he said, tone noticeably less gruff as compared to how he had talked to them before.  "I am pleased to have been granted your consideration."

Celestia smiled warmly at Grievous, who had dipped his head as he spoke; not quite a full bow, but certainly more than he had given her or Luna in their previous encounters.

Luna giggled slightly at Grievous's gesture, saying, "Thou need not bow to us, Grievous.  You are our guest, and we are not your masters."

"No, you're not," Grievous reinforced, looking up intimidatingly.  "And any attempts to convince me otherwise will be refuted."

The guards in the room eyed Grievous suspiciously, ready to suppress him if his mood swing resulted in violence.  Grievous payed them no notice.

After a few moments of tense silence, Celestia decided it best to progress with their meeting.  "Hostilities will not be necessary, Grievous; we have no intentions of making you a servant to us."

Grievous relented.  "Of course...my apologies," he said with an indeterminable amount of sincerity.  "So, what are these 'final details' that need to be worked out?"

"Our concerns are mostly related to the command structure of our combined forces," Luna elaborated.

Celestia finished the statement.  "You have made us aware that your forces are armed to kill.  This somewhat conflicts with our Guard, whose purpose is to act as defenders, not as aggressors.  As such, killing is a last resort for our Guard.  Luna and I are willing to trust that you'd not have your 'droids', as you called them, wander our country unmonitored.  But, for security reasons that I'm sure someone of your experience would understand, we need to make sure that Equestria has some sort of power over your units."

"I understand."

"So do you have any suggestions on how to resolve this issue?" Luna inquired of Grievous.

After a couple of minutes of contemplation and careful wording, Grievous presented a compromise.  "I would be willing to let the two of you and Shining Armor command my droids during a time of crisis, such as an invasion, which is a completely likely situation, so long as I am permitted to use my droids as I see fit during other times, so long as such use does not violate the laws of your country, except for cases in which the Republic is involved, in which case I will deal with the situation as I see fit."

Smiling again at Grievous, Celestia said, "A perfectly reasonable and agreeable compromise, Grievous.  There is but one more thing that we need to discuss...you."

Grievous stared at Celestia, not comprehending the implications of he comment.

"What we mean is," Luna explained, "is that, now that we've reached an agreement about the handling of thine droids, we need to know how it is that you will be handled."

"I will command my droids and act within the laws of your society, unless such laws conflict with my master's demands or with winning my war against the Republic, in which case, I will be forced to neglect them," Grievous said.

"We can agree to that," said Celestia.  "Would you be capable of commanding your troops from here, or do you need to be given leave to travel in order to do so."

"I can remotely communicate with any all of my forces fine from here, and can stay here should the hospitality be provided."

"Indeed it shall," Luna confirmed.

"That is all that we needed to hear before we would be willing to finalize our agreement.  Welcome to Equestira, General Grievous," Celestia concluded.


~~~Girevous' Room, Canterlot, 1 day and 2 hours after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




"Report, General."

"I have made agreements with the princesses as you commanded, master.  They have given me permission to deploy my troops as I see fit, and as far as I am aware, they will be assisting us against the Republic."

"Very good, General," said the hologram as a sly smile crept upon the old man's face.  "It is good to see you finally working ahead of schedule."

"These ponies are very trusting.  I've managed to maintain effectively complete control over my droids.  It will provide very beneficial to our plans...which are what, exactly?  You've still not told me why I'm here, when I could be out fighting for you, which is my specialty."

"Really?" Dooku said.  "You seem to have made quite the diplomat out of yourself from what you've told me.  I would have never thought of you as the...charismatic type."

Grievous growled in irritation.

"As for my plans, I'm afraid I can't tell you yet.  I need to make some more observations before I am willing to present it to you, and it seems that you've got a visitor."

With that, Dooku's hologram vanished from Grievous's holovid.  He turned to the door to his room, which was still closed.  Listening carefully, he could hear the slow clip-clopping of hooves coming from the other side, which ceased sounding as the source neared the door.  Before the visitor had a chance to knock, Grievous opened the door.  He found Celestia's beautiful eyes peering up to him.

"What do you want?" he asked in an unfriendly manner, which Celestia seemed to ignore when she responded.

"I'd like you to come with me; there are some important ponies arriving soon that I'd like you to be introduced to."

Ugh, more politics.  "Fine, but let's make this short.  I do have droids to coordinate."


~~~Ponyville Train Station, Ponyville, 1 day, 3 hours and 30 minutes after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




Twilight Sparkle sighed in relief as the last train to Canterlot departed from the station, leaving her, her friends, and a contingent of guards the only ones at the station.  She looked to the chariot that was to be her and her friends' ride to Canterlot with anticipation and excitement for the events to come.

"Thanks for all of your help, girls," she said, turning to her group of friends behind her.  "I don't think I'd have gotten everypony on the trains in a timely manner without you."

"No problem, Twi, it's what we're here for," Rainbow Dash said, casually brushing off the praise but secretly relishing it.

"Yep, anytime," Applejack agreed, pulling her stetson down and nodding as she said it.

From behind her, the group heard one of the guards speak.  "I'm sorry to interrupt, Miss Sparkle, but we should be going.  We don't want to keep the princesses waiting."  Collectively agreeing, the group of six friends climbed onto the chariot and were whisked away by the pegusi pulling it.

During the process of getting all of Ponyville's citizens onto the trains, Twilight's mind considered the possibilities of the news Celestia and Luna had sent her.  Several ideas of what this 'new era' could consist of had gone through her head, though most had to do with collections of powerful, society-altering spells.  Curious as to what her friends thought, she asked, "What do you think Celestia meant by 'a new era for Equestria'?"

"Maybe the princess has a bunch of awesome stunts that she wants all of Equestria to see," Rainbow Dash said hopefully.

"I don't see how that constitutes a 'new era for Equestria', Rainbow Dash," Rarity said.  "Perhaps she has a new clothing line that she wants to show off," she thought aloud.

"'Cause that constitutes a new era," Twilight panned, rolling her eyes as she spoke.

"Were you not my dear friend, I would be offended at your lack of respect for fashion," Rarity huffed.

"I never said I didn't respect it, Rarity.  I was just saying that Princess Celestia doesn't find fashion important enough to justify an event like this."

Rarity put a hoof on Twilight's shoulder, saying, "Darling, you take everything I say too seriously.  I was merely teasing you again."

"Oh...sorry," Twilight said sheepishly.

"No need to apologize, darling.  Just a small misunderstanding."  Rarity smiled her reassurance.  "Does anypony else have any speculations as to why Celestia is summoning us?" she asked the rest of the group.

Wanting to get her two bits in, Applejack spoke up.  "Ah honestly got no idea what the princess is riled up 'bout, but Ah'm eager ta find out."

"I hope it's nothing...bad," Fluttershy said meekly.

"I don't think it'll be anything bad.  We haven't had anything terrible happen since..." Twilight replied, taking a moment to recall the last catastrophe to assail Equestria.  "Would you consider letting Discord free to have been something potentially terrible?" she asked, hoping to get an opinion.

"Yes," the others agreed.

"Well, then; we haven't had any potential disasters since we let Discord free.  Pinkie Pie, you've been awfully quite about this," Twilight said, addressing her pink friend.  "What do you have to say about-"

Pinkie cut her off.  "ALIENS!" she shouted, leaping off of the chariot and literally hovering as she screamed.

Twilight was caught off guard by Pinkie's unexpected outburst, and took a couple of seconds to compose some sort of response.  "Excuse me?"

"Aliens.  I think Celestia made contact with an alien species and that they've come here to be our friends and help us and party and eat cupcakes and be our bestest friends, but then they'll turn out to be evil monsters trying to take over the universe and enslave all of ponykind," she said with certainty.

"I...I don't...I don't know what to say to that," Twilight stuttered, utterly confused.  She was not alone, though.  The rest of her friends and even a couple of their accompanying guards looked at her as if he was crazy.

"You probably shouldn't say anything to it.  We don't want any spoilers," she said.

I'll never understand Pinkie, Twilight thought, and decided to drop the issue.


~~~Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, 1 day and 5 hours after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




The chariot landed gracefully on the short airstrip intended for that purpose, with several other pegusi guards touched down around it and its occupants.  As the occupants got off, a few guards approached them, led by none other than Shining Armor.  Seeing her beloved brother, Twilight Sparkle immediately went to give him a hug.

"Shining Armor, its so nice to see you!" she said enthusiastically, embracing him in an armor crushing hug while the rest of her friends caught up.

"Yeah, hello, Twily," he replied uncharacteristically gravely, returning the hug.

Twilight could immediately tell that Shining Armor was troubled.  Glancing around, she could see that a couple of the other guards showed similar signs of tension.

Still holding Twilight, Shining Armor greeted her friends.  "Is something wrong?" Twilight asked from within his arms.

"I hope not," he said, releasing his sister.  "I'd love to chat more, but Celestia is extremely eager to see you all, so we shouldn't keep her waiting."

Shining Armor and his guards led the six mares through the castle's many winding corridors for several minute before finally arriving at the Princess' throne room.  "Stay here," he told them before having the unicorn guards as the door let him in.  The doors quickly shut behind him, denying a glance into the room to the mares that had followed him.

"Somethin' 'bout this don't seem right," Applejack remarked, to which no reply was given.

The guard captain came through the door again shortly, with the door closing in a similar manner as before behind him.  Before he could speak, a heavy, masculine cough resounded from the opposite side of the door.

"Who was that?" Twilight queried.

"Alright girls, the princess and I are going to introduce you to someone really important.  He's a bit...unusual, but I need you all to remain calm and collected.  Can you do that?" Shining Armor said, ignoring Twilight's question.

"We can do that," Twilight assured.  "Wait, 'someone'?"

Before Twilight's question could be answered, Shining Armor moved behind them and threw the doors open with his magic, revealing the extravagant throne room to the Element bearers.

At that moment, though, none of them could care at all for the pristinely maintained floor, or the lavish adornments, or even their regal princess, sitting patiently in her opulent throne for them.  Instead, all of their focus was drawn by the behemoth standing by her.

Shining Armor walked past them, turning to beckon them to follow.  Twilight cautiously obeyed, keeping her eyes on the monstrosity before them, greatly unnerved as the being's wicked, yellow eyes followed her.  Her friends slowly followed her example, not a decision made by herself for one butter yellow pegasus, who only budged by being shoved by Rainbow Dash and Applejack.

The tension in the room could almost be cut by a knife, or a lightsaber for those lacking knives.  Eventually, Shining Armor, Twilight, and the rest of the Elements of Harmony stood, or cowered in Fluttershy's case, before Celestia and the strange creature.

"Here they are, your highness," Shining Armor said to Celestia.

"Thank you, Captain," she said, her soothing voice seeming to bring some sort of relief to the intimidated ponies in front of her.  "You are dismissed."

Shining Armor gave a salute before leaving for the back of the room.  The lack of sound from the doors indicated to Twilight that her brother had not left them.  She watched the giant sweep his gaze across the group of them, giving each of them a cold, calculating glare...except for when it saw Fluttershy; it seemed to get an evil glimmer in its eyes as it watched her tremble in fear behind Applejack.

"My little ponies, thank you all for coming on such short notice," Celestia said, finally managing to divert their attention from hulking being adjacent to her, "but I felt that this was something you needed to do as soon as possible.  Please allow me to introduce you to General Grievous, the Supreme Commander of the droid army of the Confederacy of Independent Systems.  Did I get that right?" she asked, turning to Grievous for confirmation
.
"Yes," he said, regaining the attention from the ponies again.

Addressing the Elements again, Celestia asked, "Would you care to introduce yourselves to him?"

"Certainly, Princess," Twilight said, albeit rather shakily.  "I-I'm Twilight Sparkle, personal student of the princess.  It's a p-pleasure to meet you, Mr. Grievous?" she said, though the tone sounded questioning as she neared the end of her statement.  Next to her, Rarity spoke next.

"I'm Rarity, Ponyville's pirmere fashonista.  And it is an honor to meet you."

Grievous said nothing and turned his gaze towards the overly pink pony next to her.  As soon as Pinkie got the hint that it was her turn to speak, her forlorn expression turned to one of absolute glee.  She jumped, raising her front hoofs, and shouting, "I knew it was aliens!"

Not another second was given for anyone to react before Pinkie was right in Grievous's face, levitating again and giving no regards to personal space.  "Hi!  I'm Pinkie Pie!  It's so awesome to meet you.  So, you're an alien?  That's so cool!  I've always wanted to meet an alien.  I've always thought that it would be awesome to have an alien friend be my bestest friend and then we'd go to space and go world hopping and party!  Ooh, speaking of parties, I love parties!  Do you love parties?  How do aliens party?  Do you have cupcakes, or do you prefer muffins?  Derpy thinks that muffins are better, but that's impossible, 'cause cupcakes are sooooooo much tastier, and-"

Finally hearing enough of the pink pony's mindless rant, Grievous forced her to the ground and shoved her away with his foot, clamping her mouth shut as he did so.

"You have bird feet?" she asked upon having her mouth unrestrained and after noticing that Grievous did indeed have talons as opposed to toes or hooves.

"That's quite enough, Pinkine Pie," Celestia intervened before she could go off on another tangent.  Blushing, Pinkie returned to her original spot.  After a final menacing glare, Grievous turned his attention to Rainbow Dash, who was now hovering.

"And I'm Rainbow Dash," she said, crossing her forelegs and puffing up her chest.  "I'm the fastest and most awesome flier in all of Equestria."

Satisfied that no outburst like Pinkie's was to follow, Grievous turned to the last two ponies in line, the yellow and pink one still hiding behind the orange one with the hat, though her trembling had ceased.

"Ah'm Applejack," the orange one said.  "Ah'm one uh the owners of Sweet Apple Acres in Ponyville.  And this'n behind me Fluttershy.  She's a bit skittish  'round strangers, but she's real sweet once ya get ta know 'er."

Fluttershy peeked around Applejack's behind as the earth pony introduced her, but after catching another glimpse at the monster before her, she retreated to her original hiding position.

Scoffing at the notion, Grievous turned to Celestia.  "So what about these ponies requires them to meet me?" he asked.

Smiling, she answered his question.  "These six ponies before you are the bearers of the Elements of Harmony."

A pause.  "The what?"

"The Elemtens of Harmony are a set of powerful artifacts that are capable of restoring peace and harmony during a time of chaos and anarchy.  There are six of them, each representative of a virtue valuable for maintaining a good friendship.  Each one can only be wielded by the pony that most exemplifies the virtue that each particular Element represents.  And these six are those six ponies capable of using the Elements," Celestia explained.

"Fluttershy," Celestia said, pointing to Fluttershy with her hoof, "is the Element of kindness.  Applejack is honesty, Rainbow Dash represents loyalty, Pinkie Pie is laughter, Rarity exemplifies generosity, and Twilight is magic."

"Uh-huh..." Grievous replied, not truly believing Celestia but not wanting to hear more 'friendship' blasphemy.

"If you don't mind me asking, princess, why is Grievous here, and what is he?" Twilight asked.

"Grievous has informed me of a new threat to Equestria, but I fear that the Elements may not be enough to stop this one.  Grievous has valiantly volunteered his services protecting us from this threat," Celestia replied, turning to smile at Grievous, who had returned to giving the mares in front of him death glares.

"What kind of threat?" Rainbow Dash asked.

"It's...the details are a private matter between Luna, him and I, but in essence, it is an alien invasion, however cliché that sounds," said Celestia.

"And Grievous here is going to single-hoofedly protect us from this invasion?" Rainbow asked, disbelieving.

"Were you not listening?" he scolded.  "I am a commander of an army; of course I'm not alone."

"Geez, sorry, ya don't need to yell," she muttered.

"Yeah, Grievous, no need to yell," Pinkie said.  She then turned to Rainbow Dash.  "But seriously, Dashie, you need to pay attention.  He had hands, not hooves, silly."

Grievous glanced over the Element bearers one again before turning to Celestia.  "I've been distracted long enough, Princess.  I need to go coordinate my troops if you want them here by tomorrow."

And with that, he headed down the small set of stairs towards the large doors at the opposite end of the room.  The Elements parted for him and their gazes followed him as he made his way, slightly hunched and hands behind his back.  As they faced the rear of the room, the mares saw two other tall creatures standing near the door.  They were a dull silver, unlike Grievous, who was white.  Also unlike Grievous, their eyes glowed an unblinking red.  One wore a tattered tan cape and head wrap.  Overall, they were less intimidating than the general, even with the long poles they held which Twilight easily deduced as weapons.

Grievous pushed the heavy wooden door open without any assistance, a feat that Twilight hadn't thought possible by anything other than a dragon of substantial size.  As he strode out of the room, the beings with the poles followed him out.  They were obviously some his Grievous's troops.

The door closed behind him, leaving the room void of alien life.  Twilight and her friends turned towards Celestia, and for the first time since she saw Grievous, Fluttershy, stopped cowering.

"Well he isn't the most pleasant of individuals," Rarity off-handedly commented.

"It is understandable.  He has gone through much struggle and grief.  Now is not the time for us to discuss his past, however; you will have time to ask him your questions yourselves later.  Instead, I want us to think about Equestria's future.  Grievous comes from another galaxy, one where space travel is commonplace, and aliens life is nothing spectacular.  According to him, his galaxy is very technologically advanced, and he his living proof of that," said Celestia.

"How so?" asked Twilight.

"Did you see his body?  It's made of metal...it's inorganic.  He's almost completely machine."

"That's amazing!" Twilight said enthusiastically.

"It is, and as a result of Grievous being here, some of his galaxy's technologies will make their way here for us.  Truly this is a new era for Equestria.  One of new technologies and discoveries...oh, but look at me rambling," Celestia said, chiding herself.  "I plan to introduce him to the Equestrian public tomorrow; that was why I had summoned all of Equestria to Canterlot."

"Sounds like uh fine idea, Princess," Applejack agreed.

"Indeed," Celestia said.  "But, as such, there are many preparations that must be done, so I am going to have to dismiss you all.  I have already had rooms prepared for you all in the suite tower.  Just ask a guard to escort you to your room when you're ready to go there.  In the meantime, feel free to take full advantage of everything I have to offer."

"Thank you kindly, Princess," Applejack thanked before bowing.  The others followed suit, then followed Shining Armor out of the room.

Once outside of the throne room, Shining Armor turned to the mares and said, "Well, I've got to prepare my troops for tomorrow.  You can come with me if you want, but I don't think you'll really find it entertaining in any way.  But, uh, well, enjoy yourselves."  With that, he trotted away, but to where was unknown to Twilight or the others.

"I think I'll go with my brother," Twilight said to her friends.  Her friends had other plans; Rarity and Pinkie wanted to go to their rooms, Fluttershy wanted to spend some time in the gardens, Rainbow Dash was going to fly around Canterlot, and Applejack decided to find some grub.

They each went their separate ways, and Twilight caught up to he brother, who had not gotten far from the group.

"So what's wrong?" she asked once she got next to Shining, who still looked worse for wear.

"It's nothing, Twi," he said, hoping that she wouldn't press the matter further.  But he knew her better.

"Are you sure?  I saw you give that Grievous guy a weird look when you saw him.  Is there something about him that troubles you?  I wouldn't blame you if there was; he's sort of intimidating." she pressed.

"It's...I...I don't want to talk about it," he said adamantly.

"C'mon, if there's something troubling you, you should talk about it; it'll make you feel better," she encouraged.

He sighed, battle lost, but continued trotting towards his destination.  Without looking to Twilight, he began his rant.  "Grievous disturbs me.  He seems aggressive and inconsiderate.  Did you see how he looked at your friend Fluttershy?"  He waited for Twilight to nod yes before continuing.  "He was enjoying watching her tremble.  From what I've seem, he's a heartless bucker, and I don't trust him," he said, stressing the word enjoying for emphasis.

She took a moment to take in what Shining had said before giving her response.  "That can't be all that's troubling you, though.  You look like you haven't slept well for a while, and I'm pretty sure that this Grievous thing hasn't been happening long enough for that."

"Grievous aside," Shining Armor said, "our scouts have been observing more changeling activity near the Macintosh Hills, and we suspect another invasion soon.  I've been trying to get the Guard ready to fight them off better than last time, but I can't say I'm completely confident in our chances."

"Ugh, changelings again?" Twilight muttered.  "Well, at least you've got Grievous on your side now.  Maybe you'll get to see him and his troops in action?"

"I've already see him in action," he said, head drooping as he recalled the thrashing that Grievous had given him yesterday.  Speaking of which, his jaw still hurt from having his sword wrenched out from his mouth.  "He was watching me drill my troops yesterday, and when I asked him his opinion about the troops I was drilling, he said that everything that we were doing was wrong or needed improvement.  In an attempt to prove him wrong, I decided to spar him.  Even without his weapons, he broke the tip off of my spear and almost stabbed me with it, and he bent my sword with his foot.  His foot!  Not to mention that immediately afterwards, he could've crushed my skull in while he was standing on me."

Twilight held a shocked expression as she listened to her brother describe his experience sparring with the general.

"He's a very dangerous fighter; if he wanted to, he could probably single-handedly wipe out the entire Royal Guard.  And I don't even know if he can use magic or not, or what his weapons are capable of.  He's scary, and I don't trust him."

Having said his piece, Shining Armor resigned himself to silence.  Twilight made no attempt to pretend she understood how her brother felt, having had no similar experiences before, so she, like her brother, said nothing.




Soon, Twilight found herself assisting Shining Armor and some other guards with blocking off Canterlot's main road for 'military exercises'.  Luckily for them, Canterlot was not a heavily populated city, despite the recent visitors from Ponyville, and thus they faced little complaint from the civilians whose days had been inconvenienced.  With the area secured, the guards began establishing where they were to be for tomorrow.  The guards moved with efficiency, placing themselves around the perimeter of the secured area, leaving...large gaps in their formation that could easily hold two or three more guards?  Confused, Twilight went to confront her brother about the wide spacing.

"Why are the guards spaced so far apart?  Don't you usually only have a couple feet in between each guard?"

"Well, this is a special case," he replied.  "Grievous will be having some of his troops come later in the evening or overnight.  In each unoccupied space will go a...what did he call them?  'B1's' and 'B2's'?"

He put a hoof to his chin in thought, and after a moment, said, "Yeah, something like that.  Point is, our troops will be alternating as you go down the road.  Anyways, I gotta get back to giving instructions."

Having ended the conversation, Twilight trotted to someplace out of the way of the guards where she could still hear Shining Armor give his instructions.  The process was surprisingly time consuming; after fifteen minutes, Twilight had lost interest in her brother's voice and the unmoving guard, and left to find some food.  The guard didn't finish their drill until at least a half hour later from what Twilight could tell.

At this point, it was evening, and Twilight had already gone to her suite to read herself to sleep.




Fluttershy yawned and groggily awoke to the sounds of exotic birds chirping and the sweet aroma of Canterlot Garden's perfectly maintained flora.  Stretching her wings, she stood up and looked to the sky.  It wasn't quite evening yet, not a proper time to go get supper, but she wasn't drowsy enough to continue napping; she had already spent the last hour or so doing that since she and her friends had split up.

She hadn't taken a proper tour of the gardens, she soon thought, and now was as good a time as ever.

Her hooves made light crunching noises on the gravel path beneath her as she strolled through the massive gardens.  She quietly admired the beauty around her, occasionally smelling an enticing looking flower and gawking at the expertly carved statues of important ponies from Equestria's history, most of whom she couldn't recognize.  She passed by statues of powerful mages and brave pegusi, rose bushes and hedges of rare plants, as well as a small patch of poison joke, which she assumed were used in many of the pranks the immortal sisters were notorious for pulling on each other.

Her wandering brought her atop a small hill.  The hill was small indeed, but it provided a gorgeous view of Canterlot's labyrinth.  Her breath would have been taken away by the marvelous view had she not already had prior negative experiences within the hedge walls of that labyrinth.  It was the place where she had been corrupted; the place where Equestria may have very well crumbled; the source of many of Fluttershy's nightmares that she had just recently managed to get under control.

She turned away forcefully, mood soured, and stomach now troubling her for food.  Turning a corner, she saw a familiar statue, one that she had not expected, but had nevertheless wanted to avoid.  Sitting atop a dias was the form of the draconequus that everypony loved to hate: Discord.

Not that Fluttershy hated Discord; she just found his presence to be distasteful and aggravating.  She wanted to turn away and find a different route to the castle, but something odd struck her about the Discord statue: it was, indeed, a statue.  Curious as to why the creature she reluctantly called a friend was trapped in stone...again...she approached the statue.

As she made her way towards the statue, the gray stone began to fade into colored flesh.  Scared by the sudden change, Fluttershy lowered her body to the ground and trembled, trying to hide behind her long pink mane.

"Hello again, Fluttershy," a voice said.

Looking up, she saw the towering figure of Discord looming above her, talon extended in front of her to help her to her hooves.  She didn't need the help, but accepted the gesture anyways as to not be rude.

As soon as Discord's talon gripped her delicate hoof, she was aggressively swept into a large and unexpected hug, causing her to squeak.

"It's quite a delight to see you again, dear Fluttershy," Discord exclaimed, setting the shaken Fluttershy back on the ground.

"Um, it's good to see you...too," she replied quietly.

A look of concern crossed Discord's features.  "You look troubled, friend."

"It's nothing," she said.

"It's not nothing, Fluttershy.  I know things, remember that.  And as a friend, it's my obligation to help you feel better.  Now what's the matter?" Discord asked.

Her stomach growled in response.

"Ah, so you're a little hungry.  Let me help with that," he said, reaching his hand behind his back, only to have it come out of Fluttershy's mane holding a large bowl of fresh salad for her.

She was a little disgruntled with the method of delivery Discord had chose- knowing Discord, it could have been worse- but took the salad regardless.  One bite in, she had decided that it was the best salad she had ever eaten.

"It's delicious, thank you Discord," she said.

"Not a problem at all," he said, smiling.  "So is there anything that you'd feel like discussing?"

"Um...," she said while chewing.  After swallowing her bite of salad, she asked, "Why were you turned to stone?  Again?"

"You'd be surprised how little respect a redeemed god-of-chaos gets around here.  Celestia has basically forbid me from using any of my powers at all, and she and Luna don't permit me outside of the castle," he scoffed, crossing his arms.  He gave Fluttershy a mischievous smirk, adding, "Not that they actually enforce those regulations."

"You don't do anything bad, do you?" Fluttershy asked, concerned about the revelation.

"No, of course not.  I don't intervene with the affairs of anypony anymore.  It's really quite boring; there's almost no juicy chaos to monitor, but at least I can make due with the small bouts of chaos you ponies are prone to."

"How do you do that?" she asked, taking another bite of her salad.

"It's a really complicated spell that only a powerful and talent magic-user as myself could possibly cast," he boasted, receiving a giggle from Fluttershy in response.

"You sound like Rainbow Dash," she said.

"I've had time to work on my impersonations," Discord said.  "Anyways, to answer your first and last questions, the spell allows me to observe anything I wish, regardless of the dimension or universe it's located in.  However, to use it, I must sever my spirit from my physical body, and the resulting split petrifies my body.  I'm unable to do anything while exploring the multiverse, however, so I am in no way related to the occurrences of wherever I happen to be looking."

"Oh," said Fluttershy.  "I guess that makes sense...kind of."

"It's perfectly alright if you don't understand it.  It took me all of ten thousand years or so to get it right for the first time, so I wouldn't expect somepony with no experience meddling with magic to understand it.  Would you like some more salad or something to drink?"

Looking down into her bowl, Fluttershy realized that she had eaten the entire thing and was now parched.  "Some water would be nice," she requested.  The bowl disappeared in a flash of light and was replace by a glass of water.  Somehow, she managed to not flinch at the unexpected event.  Discord must be rubbing off on her.

She took a long drought of her water before refocusing her gaze on Discord.  His eyes were soft and full of worry.  "I know that the fact that I was encased in stone was not the only thing that was disturbing you.  I believe I know what is, but I think you should bring it up and talk about it so as to get it off your chest."

Sighing, knowing that Discord would not give up, Fluttershy relented.  "Are you familiar with that Grievous thing that arrived recently?"

"Why yes I am.  He's been quite the maelstrom of chaos in his home galaxy; quite the follower of greatness I do say so myself," replied Discord, slicking his short mane back as he finished his comment.

Rolling her eyes, Fluttershy continued.  "Well, he just...scares me.  It's not the type of scary that you are, though..."

Discord feigned offense at that statement.

"...not the 'unnerving, does unexpected stuff that you can laugh at afterwards' scary; he's sort of the 'intimidating, does stuff that could potentially hurt somepony' scary.  You know what I mean?"

"I know exactly what you mean," he said, moving to comfort the now teary-eyed pony that was his only friend.  Something about Grievous disturbed her more than she was willing to say, that much was obvious, but Discord decided not to press her.  "I'll not pretend to know what his plans are for Celestia and for Equestria," he started, "but I can tell you that everypony should be cautious around him.  He has a checkered past that's been terrible not only to him, but to those he's affiliated himself with as well."

"If he's so terrible, then Celestia should get him out of Equestria," Fluttershy said.

Discord sighed.  "Despite the chaos that I predict will befall Equestia due to his presence, I fear that Celestia will not be convinced of that conclusion until it's too late.  You see, Celestia doesn't trust me, despite my promise to 'use my powers for good'.  Let's say that you tell Celestia of our concerns.  If you mention that I was involved in reaching this conclusion, she would interpret it as an attempt by me to undermine her judgment and authority, and she would declare our concerns invalid, and likely punish me in some way.  Now, if you were to leave my involvement out of your argument, she would tell you that you've just met him and know nothing about his past, therefore declaring our concerns invalid."

Fluttershy nodded in understanding.

"You see, this is a lose-lose situation here.  That best course of action would be for you to keep this information to yourself; maybe your friends if you feel the need to, but really no more than that.  Should things be going south, I will try to do my best to assist in a way that preserves Equestria and Celestia's integrity, but I cannot make any promises."

Fluttershy sniffled and wiped her eyes dry.  She was surprised that she had avoided letting any tears loose during her reflection on how badly Grievous had impacted her.  Maybe Discord is more comforting that ponies are willing to see.  Regardless, he had helped her out, and she felt exponentially better.

"Thanks, Discord," she finally said, giving the draconequus a tight hug, which he returned.  "You're a great friend."

A sincere smile formed on his lips.  "Thank you, Fluttershy."  Giving her mane a final pat, he said, "You should probably be headed indoors; it's almost time to sleep, and there's a big day coming up tomorrow."

She looked to the sky to see that time had indeed passed rather quickly.  Already Celestia had brought the sun down and Luna's beautiful moon shone fully in the sky.  Saying her goodbye to Discord, she slowly made her way in the general direction of the castle, though having never actually been there before slowed her progress tremendously.  Fortunately for her, arrows formed in the gravel in front of her to lead her way when she was really lost, presumably thanks to Discord.

Several minutes later, Fluttershy made her way out of the unintentional labyrinth and to the entry area.  And her timing couldn't have been more perfect.  Well, perfect probably wasn't the most proper word to describe the circumstances; terrifying was probably more accurate.  Just as soon as she made her way past the hedges leading out of the gardens, none other then General Grievous stepped through the door that was Fluttershy's destination.  Normally, she would have hid in the nearest bush she could find, but in a rouge act of bravery, she decided to make her way past the general and pay him no heed.

Regretfully, that was not how the encounter had turned out.  She and the general approached each other, Fluttershy's attention on the door and Grievous's focus on some distant object.  Her resolve broke as the general got within a couple of feet of her; her legs seemingly gave out, and she resumed the cowering position that she had struck when she had first laid eyes on Grievous.  By the time her body had reached the ground, the general had already passed her, but the unexpected movement caught Grievous's attention.  He turned to look at the quivering mass of yellow and pink behind him, halting his movement.  He stared for a moment before grunting and continuing his path.  Once the general was out of sight, Fluttershy made for the shortest possible route to her room.


~~~Canterlot Gardens, Canterlot, 1 day and 13 hours after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




Grievous stood in a large clearing near Canterlot castle's labyrinth, waiting patiently for the first group of droids to make their landing on the planet.  After a few minutes of waiting, he could see the silhouette of a droid transport in the far distance.  There was a crunching sound behind him, and he turned to see Shining Armor approaching him.

The Royal Guard captain came to Grievous's side before halting and turning his head to the sky above him.  "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" he asked.

Grievous didn't care.  The condition of the sky was trivial.  If he had eyebrows, one would be raised.  But, seeing as he didn't, Grievous opted for the next best response: silence.

The captain's eyes continued to scan the sky, trying to locate the incoming transport, Grievous presumed.  Eventually Captain Armor found it.  Pointing in its general direction with his hoof, he asked, "Is that the thing with the first group of droids?"  The general nodded yes.

The pair stood in silence for the next few minute, watching as the speck that was the droid transport got closer and larger.  Within fifteen minutes, the vehicle was hovering above them and beginning its decent.

Shining Armor watched in awe as the large chunk of metal floated above him, no magic, no strings attached.

The shuttle's landing gear deployed with a hiss, and it landed softly in the grass in front of Grievous.  The rear doors opened as the boarding ramp extended, allowing the vehicle's occupants to exit.  One commando droid made its way to the entrance before turning and grabbing something inside the shuttle.  It pulled, and slowly, a large metal rack was dragged out and down the ramp to the solid earth below, followed by another commando droid, who had presumably been pushing.  Once the rack and the droids were on the ground, the shuttle's ramp retreated and the doors closed, allowing it to fly back to the frigate from whence it came.

Shining Armor eyed the rack curiously.  Hanging on the rack were several droids, arranged in two pairs of rows.  The droids were curled up into uncomfortable looking balls, knee joints sticking above their lowered necks, arms to their sides and hands wrapped around their lower legs.  The commando droids fiddled with some buttons on the side of the rack, emitting a loud hissing sound.  The rack groaned and the bottom rows of droids projected outwards while the top rows slid down, causing all for rows of droids to be level with each other.

All at once, the droids on the rack came to life.  Their limbs all jerked once before the droids unfolded into standing positions.  Shining Armor could see these droids much more clearly now that they were fully exposed.  They looked very similar to the commando droids that he had gotten somewhat use to seeing, only these had longer heads and thinned limbs.

The droids marched away from the rack, and once the area was clear, the commando droids closed the rack back to its original state, except for the lack of droids hanging off of it.

"Captain Shining Armor, these are some of my B1 battle droids.  They compose the bulk of my forces.  These forty droids should be able to defend Canterlot, with the Guard's help of course.  I am expecting two more shuttles to come down during the night; one more carrying forty more B1's, and another carrying twenty B2's."

With nothing to be said and weariness in his eyes, Shining Armor left the general to his own devices and made his way back to the castle to rest himself for the day ahead.
> Chapter 6: Grievous' Public Appearance
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~~LZ, Equestria, 1 day and 23 hours after the Ambush at US-01~~~




Gore's eyes slowly opened as he pulled himself out of his restful sleep.  He stretched his arms over his exposed head, and heaved a relaxed sigh as he returned them atop his chest plate.  A noise sounded from outside the gunship, and he raised his head in an attempt to see what it was.  To his relief, it was only Viktor messing with some of the camp's electronics and Shy descending from atop the mesa.  Satisfied that he could relax in his hammock for a couple more minutes, he lowered his head and turned his gaze to the figure adjacent to him that appeared to be sleeping comfortably.

Across the camp, Viktor noticed some stirring from inside the gunship, which turned out to be Gore waking up.  He turned to R8, who was standing patiently next to him.  “Get them out of bed, would you?” he asked R8, who complied and began the short trek to the gunship.

The sound of the resident astromech approaching brought Gore out of his private musings.  Figuring that the droid was his wake up call, Gore swung his legs out of the hammock and stood, stretching again as he did.  R8 had almost made it to the gunship once Gore was finished waking.  “I'll get him up,” Gore said to the droid.  Upon hearing this, R8 spun around and headed back to Viktor who was now conversing with Shy.

Why does Shy not talk to Spy and I?, he wondered.  Gore turned to Spy.  Then again, who'd really want to talk to Spy?  That was justification enough for him to drop the issue and put his mind to the important task at hand: waking up Spy in the most humiliating  and painful way that Gore could think of.  Undoing the knots in his hammock again was out of the question; Spy had thoroughly secured those after yesterday's little prank.  Struggling to think of something creative to get the job done, Gore decided to go with good old physical violence.  He swung his leg back and prepared a powerful kick, which made contact with Spy's hammock underneath his butt.

“Feir'fek!” Spy exclaimed at the unexpected contact, almost falling out of his hammock as he did so.

“That was for yesterday,” muttered Gore as he picked his helmet off of the gunship floor.

Rubbing the armor over where he had been kicked in a feeble attempt to rid his rear of soreness, Spy said, “So you like it that way, huh?”

Gore blanched.  “You're not insinuating anything, are you?”  He placed his helmet back on after finishing his statement.

“Actually, I was asking you if you were insinuating something.  After all, you were the one to touch my butt first,” Spy replied.

“Maybe a swift kick in the butt is what you needed to finally start making yourself useful,” Gore retorted.

“That was actually a decent comeback,” Spy said after a moment of thought.

The two clones made their way out of the gunship and into the light of the low-lying sun.  Viktor had apparently finished his discussion with Shy, and was now staring at the screen of a holopad.  Shy had gone ahead and began eating his breakfast ration for the day.  Eating sounded like an agreeable course of action to Gore, so he made his way to the crate containing their rations and got his breakfast while Spy made his way over to Viktor to bother him.  After claiming his food, Gore strode over to where Shy was sitting and made himself comfortable next to him.

“Hello, Shy,” Gore greeted.  Shy grunted in response.

“So you've been awfully silent towards Spy and I since we've met.  Avoiding talking to Spy, I can understand, but there's no reason why you need to be so silent to me,” he said, hoping to get words out of Shy this time.

“I'm-I'm sorry if my silence bothers you,” Shy responded, quiet enough to the point where Gore had to strain himself to hear.  “It's just in my nature to be quiet.  I'll talk business, but other than that, I prefer to say nothing.”

“Ugh, I can see that,” Gore said.  He resigned himself to the fact that he and Shy had no business to discuss.  “If it's part of your nature, I guess I can't blame you for it, and I can respect that.  Still, if you ever feel like chatting about something non-business and don't want to be constantly interrupted with stupid jokes, I'd be willing to listen.”

Shy nodded in thanks for Gore's understanding, and the two resumed their breakfasts in silence.




“So, boss, what'cha doin'?”

“Ugh, not right now Spy.  Go get breakfast and we'll brief in a few minutes.”

“So we got a lead?”

“No, Shy and I have determined a course of action.  'Lead' implies that an investigation of sorts is being conducted.”

After a second of thought, Spy asked, “Isn't that our whole purpose here?”

“...I...I guess it is.  Whatever, leave me alone while I get a couple of small details finalized.”

“What if I want to-”

“R8, get him out of here please.”

“Oh, so you don't want me around, huh?  Well, fine...R8, put the taser away, there's no need for that kind of violence here.”

Spy's protests went unheeded as R8 zapped the gap in his armor plates near his crotch.

“Ow!” he yelled, cradling his sensitive area.  “I was just leaving...” he moaned.

“That's what I like to hear.”

Across the camp, Gore erupted into hysterical laughter.

Spy hung his head in shame and waddled over to the crate of rations, holding his crotch all the while.  Even Shy had to snicker at the pathetic sight before him.




“Squad, pay attention, and don't interrupt with pointless comments.  Spy, that means you,” Viktor said, addressing his squad.  “So I've spent the last hour or so going over some of the data we collected yesterday trying to determine where to go from here.  Before I do that, I'm going to give you a brief overview of what we've discovered, just so that we're all on the same page.  We've determined that the atmosphere is breathable for humans, and that the area we are in is inhabited by at least two species, one of which appears to be either a large wild animal or a nomadic intelligent civilization.  The other species we found appears to be a somewhat modern civilization, though none were present when we investigated their town.  Each species shows signs of being equine in structure and short compared to us in stature.  We can assume that the second species I noted is the dominant one in the area.”

“Moving on to geographical information, we've collected two maps of the region, which goes by the name of Equestria.  The map does not provide information about the name of the planet as a whole, however, so we will continue to call it US-01.  It also does not tell us whether Equestria is a country, region, province, or some other politically divided area.  I'm going to go ahead and refer to it as a country, based on the observations Shy and I have made about the map, but again, this is just an educated guess and is subject to being proven wrong.”

“We know this, can we get to the point?” Spy interjected.

“I was just about to,” Viktor growled.

“Oh, sorry.  Carry on, then.”

“So as I was saying, Shy and I have looked at the map and determined that there are two possible settlements that we are near, but we haven't determined which one it is.  The two places in question are Appleloosa and Dodge City.  We need to clear this discrepancy before we can move on to other places.  According to the map, Appleloosa has some sort of field of trees outside of its borders.  As such, our first objective for the day is to head to the town we located earlier and scout for trees.  It shouldn't be too hard to find them if they are in fact there.  If we find no trees in the vicinity, then we can say quite assuredly that we are in the area of Dodge City.”

“Makes sense,” Gore said.

“Shy and I both personally believe that we are near Appleloosa, not Dodge City, but we aren't ready to eliminate that possibility.”

“When do we make to leave?” Gore asked.

“As soon as I'm finished with the briefing,” Viktor replied.  “I'm almost done.”

“Good; you're boring me,” Spy moaned.

“Shut up or I'll have you do all of the preparations by yourself,” threatened Viktor.

“You have my silence,” Spy said, quickly halting his ramblings.

“Once we arrive at the settlement, we'll spend at most an hour and a half looking for signs of trees within a mile or so radius.  We'll make our guess as to where we are based on what we find.  After we're done searching, we're going to return and prepare everything we've discovered for transmission to Sergeant Moon,” Viktor continued.

“And after that?” asked Gore.

“Not important for you to know yet, and it will change based on where we actually are,” Viktor answered.

“One last thing,” he started.  “Last night, I got a visual of three Separatist shuttles heading to...based on the map, I'm going to say it was Canterlot or Ponyville.  Point is, we've got clankers on the surface with us, so there is a chance that we'll have to engage them.  Until we get a clue as to why they're here, we're best off avoiding contact with them, as well as any civvys that may have returned over the course of the night.”

“Is there anything else that should be addressed?” Viktor asked Shy.  Nodding his head no, Viktor dismissed the clones so that they could prepare for their venture.


~~~LZ, Outskirts of Appleloosa, 2 days and 2 hours after the Ambush at US-01~~~




Upon returning to the LZ, Viktor was pleased with being able to add another successful outing to Victor squad's record.  They had gone to the town, now identified to be Appleloosa, and found it to still be abandoned.  This fact made their search for trees to go along without hampering, and within ten minutes of arriving, they had found an expansive apple orchard near the outer edges of the North part of the town.  Apples...Appleloosa...should've seen that one coming.  Unimaginative names aside, they had successfully pinpointed their location, and Shy had been brave enough to take a couple apples off of one of the trees for scientific study.  “One for determining chemical composition, and one for edibility testing afterward, should the chemical composition be safe for consumption,” Shy had said to justify his actions.

Viktor really couldn't blame Shy for his complex excuse to take some apples; they did look very enticing, and rations got bland quick.

Now that their objective had been completed, the next phase of their mission was a waiting game; for how long was yet to be seen.  Fortunately, they had gathered a generous amount of data relative to the amount of time they had spent on the planet, and each of them save for Viktor had something productive to do in the down time; Shy had apples to test before compiling their report and Spy was helping Gore with his hand-to-hand combat skills.

Viktor could only hope that the Loyalty wasn't too far away from the system at this point.  He wanted to make sure that the data they had collected by now got into Republic hands before it could be lost somehow.  Then again, they did have a very good camp location.  There was no way that they could be discovered unless someone was actively searching for them.  So far, no one had.  So there is nothing to worry about.  Right?


~~~Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, 1 day and 20 hours after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




Shining Armor drowsily removed his aching head from his pillow.  He tried to rub the tiredness out of his eyes, only to find that it stubbornly refused to leave.  It wasn't surprising, he supposed; he had hardly managed more than an hour of sleep, for he found himself anxious for the day's big event.

Big event was an understatement.  This event would likely be the most monumental in the lives of all of the ponies who had gathered to Canterlot per the Princess' request, save perhaps his sister and her friends.

Finding that returning to a state of slumber was a futile endeavor, Shining Armor rose from his bed, grunting as he stretched his sore muscles.  Princess Cadence stirred where she had been lying, but remained asleep.  Shining Armor cast her an envious look before getting himself ready for the long day ahead.  He stepped out onto the balcony that was a part of his and Cadence's room and looked to the early morning sky.  It was still dark, and Luna's moon still prevailed over the sun.  The hour was one at which most were still asleep, and Shining Armor wished that he was one of them.  But, he had his duties.




Within the hour, Shining Armor had taken care of all of his hygienic needs, donned his armor, equipped his sword, and was now headed to the barracks.  He reached the room and pushed open the door, hinges speaking loudly as the door gave way to the force of Captain Armor's hoof.  “Alright troops, get your flanks up and moving, outside in half an hour!  We've got a big day, we can't afford to disappoint!” he yelled, waking the light sleepers in the room while some of the heavy sleepers remained unfazed.

The troops slowly aroused themselves from sleep, taking care of their simple hygienic needs before heading to the armory to gather their armor and spears.  The atmosphere was almost overwhelmingly apprehensive, as most of the guards were aware that the public might not take to Grievous well.

In a timely manner, the first team of thirty or so guards had arranged themselves in a block in the castle courtyard, awaiting orders from their Captain.

“Alright troops, remember the instructions from yesterday.  Block off the alleyways long enough for Grievous and I to get his droids in position, after which we'll have the other teams take their positions.  Await further orders once you've finished your task.  Due to the time, I doubt that you'll have to deal with any citizens, so this shouldn't take long,” he told them.

The ponies remained in a rigid attention, waiting to be dismissed by their Captain.  He was about to do so when he remembered that he had news to share with them.  “Before I let you go, I want to give you all a warning.  I don't know whether you're aware of this or not, but there have been reports of increased changeling activity near the Macintosh Hills.  My guess is that they're preparing another invasion, though one much less subtle than their previous one.  And while I doubt they'd be stupid enough to attack us soon, it's still a possibility.  Thus, remain alert and watchful of suspicious activity, and report any you see to a superior.  That is all, dismissed.”

The guards took their leave and dispersed to fulfill their orders.  A clanking and whirring sound sounded to the side of Shining Armor, and he turned to see none other than General Grievous approaching him.  “Well, I suppose I should thank you for sparing me the trouble of finding you,” he said to Grievous.

“I doubt that doing that would have been an issue due to my stature, Captain,” Grievous replied.

“Yeah, well, it'd still be a waste of time, just like this chat is,” Shining Armor muttered.  “Are your droids ready to go?”

“Yes, they are,” Grievous assured.  “You mentioned 'changelings' and labeled them a threat.  It would be wise for you to share you knowledge of them with me.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Shining Armor said.  “Let's see...as their name implies, they can change form.  Their normal look is all black pony shape with insect-like wings, short pointed horn, large blue eyes with no pupils, and holes in their legs.  They can change their appearance to be, as far as I know, any living thing.  I don't know about inanimate objects...anyways, and they're led by their queen, Queen Chrysalis.  The only differences in appearance between her and other changelings is that she's taller, has a larger horn, long cerulean hair, and her eyes look similar to...yours, I guess, except that the iris is green and her eyes have whites.”

Grievous let Shining Armor think for a few seconds more before pressing for more information.  “Anything else?” he asked.

“Um, sorry, no.  Twilight should know more if you're really interested; I heard that she began studying them after our last incident with them,” he said.

Before Grievous could bash Shining Armor for neglecting to make more notes about their potential enemy, a pegasus guard landed next to the Captain and interrupted.  “We've ensured that the public has no entry to the main road.”

“Very good, soldier,” Shining Armor said to the guard.  “Go ahead and get a division of pegusi to cover the sky while Grievous and I get the droids and other troops into formation.”


~~~Canterlot Square, Canterlot, 2 days and 3 hours after the Ambush at EGP-01~~~




The guards were in position and a crowd had started in the square, awaiting Princess Celestia's address.  Many of them were warily looking around at the tall...things that stood by their country's guard.  The things stood completely still, almost as if they were statues, not responding to any external stimuli.  More and more ponies were escorted into the square, most of them giving concerned looks to the things while a few eyed the Royal Guards mischievously.  Every once in a while, some of the foals in the crowd would make a game of trying to get the towering things to respond, which they could never win.  For the most part, the crowd was accepting of the newcomers; despite their intimidating appearance, they didn't seem hostile and were apparently friendly, as indicated by their proximity to the Royal Guards.

Shining Armor approached the next group of ponies to be brought into the square, and the last one that was his responsibility to escort.  He couldn't say that he recognized any of the hundred or so ponies in the group, but there were three of them that stood out.  The first was a very tall and bulky red stallion with emerald green eyes and a large green apple as a cutie mark.  Twilight had mentioned a pony that matched this one in one of letters that she occasionally sent to him, mostly describing her adventures.  There was no doubt that this pony was Big Macintosh Apple.  On his back rested a pale yellow filly with a pink bow in her mane, which was a dark shade of pink.  This was obviously Apple Bloom, who was also mentioned a couple of times by Twilight.  Together, they stood next to another pony that was staring ominously at Shining Armor.

This pony was a mare, much smaller than 'Big Mac', as Twilight had referred to him as in her letters.  Her coat was dark green and her mane was long, straight, and cerulean in color.  She stared intensely at Shining Armor, eyes reflecting pure anger and hatred.  Her cutie mark consisted of a skull and crossbones over a black leminscate.

Shining Armor beckoned the group forward.  Big Mac was the first to respond to the Captain's beckoning, following a couple of steps behind Shining Armor, while the mysterious mare kept pace with Big Mac.  They reached the interior of the square, which at this point was nearly half full of ponies.  Shining Armor estimated around two thousand ponies in the square.  The group was placed near the center of the square, and once they reached it, Shining Armor made a motion to another guard in the distance, who then began to take up the Captain's previous role of escorting ponies in.

Shining Armor glanced around to make sure that everything was in order.  As he turned his gaze, he found that Big Mac was standing to his right, the mysterious mare to his left, and that several ponies in the crowd around him and even a couple of his guards were watching her with anticipation.

It was a little odd that his guards were doing that, but he guessed that they were simply looking for suspicious activity, which can be dreadfully difficult when staring directly in front of you the whole time like guards were supposed to do.  Finally satisfied that nothing too peculiar was going on, he turned to Big Mac.

“So, you're Big Macintosh Apple, right?” he asked.

“Eeyup.”

“Twilight's mentioned you a couple of times in her letters to me,” he said.

Big Mac gave no indication of having heard him.

“She says you're a good pony; nice, hardworking, caring, strong...actually, I think she may have a thing for you,” Shining Armor continued.

“Ah ain't meanin' ta be rude, Captain, but Ah'm a might uncomfortable with this topic.  And ya shouldn't be spreadin' rumors like that with uh filly 'round,” Big Mac said.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, or to spread rumors.  I was thinking aloud for a second,” he apologized.

“'S alright 'long as ya didn't mean it.”

“Actually, I was meaning to ask you if you've ever considered joining the guard.  From what Twilight says about you, you've got skills that we could use,” said Shining Armor.

“That would be so cool!” Apple Bloom said excitedly.  “If ya joined, I'd be able to introduce mahself as 'Apple Bloom, sister of the Element of Honesty and brother to the best Royal Guard in Equestria'!  I'd be the envy of mah school, despite bein' a blank flank!”

Big Mac chuckled at that.  “Ah 'preciate the offer Captain, but Ah gotta stay on th' farm an' work.  Ain't  nopony else 'round strong enough ta pull the plow.”

“Oh, I see.  Well, I'll respect your decision,” Shining Armor conceded, ending the conversation.  Glancing around again, he found that the mysterious mare was still staring at him, and had even inched closer to him while he had been talking with Big Mac.  It was a little unnerving, but not too unbearable.  After all, the situation could get worse.




Grievous stood in the throne room, arms crossed and talons impatiently tapping against the marble floor.  It was almost time for him to be introduced to the public.  He was anxious, not because he cared what the public thought of him, but because he'd be able to set his plans in motion after this silly waste of time.  Near him, Celestia, Luna, and Cadence were all preparing for their own public appearance, making sure they looked presentable.  That was one advantage to not having a biological body; making himself presentable was a very quick process.  Twilight Sparkle, her friends, and a couple of Royal Guards, one of which was stirring nervously, were also in the throne room.  Aside from Rarity, who was wearing an overly flashy and dreadful looking dress, the others had not made any special changes for the event.

Grievous looked around the room out of boredom.  It wasn't until he looked up to the ceiling that he noticed something off.  In one of the corners was a small black camera-like device.  He immediately recognized it as one of his probes, which he had never ordered to be disabled.  Chuckling at his mistake, he made his way across the room to the spot underneath the probe.  The sudden motion caught the attention of the Element bearers, who had gotten good at ignoring his presence.

“Something wrong, Grievous?” asked Twilight.  “Why are you staring at the wall?”

Looking up to where Grievous was staring, the group of them saw a small black thing nestled in the corner of the room.

“What is that?” she asked, while Rainbow flew up to investigate.

Rainbow approached it cautiously.  “It looks like some sort of techy thing.  It's probably Grievous's,” she guessed.

“And you are right,” he said.  The probe dislodged itself from the corner and flew down to Grievous's level, startling Rainbow in the process.

“What is that thing?” Rainbow asked, flying down to Grievous's level to get a better look at it.  She stared at it, watching it hover in place in front of Grievous without wings.

Ignoring Rainbow, Grievous addressed the probe.  “Cancel probe operations.  Store all data and clear each probe's memories.  Set them all to self-destruct, except this one.”




In space, the crew of the Superior received the command, and all of the probes except for the one near Grievous self-destructed.




“I asked you what that thing is,” Rainbow almost yelled at Grievous, angry at being ignored.

However, Grievous continued to ignore her.  He set his hand under the probe.  “Disable operation,” he commanded of it.  It complied, completely disabling itself and falling into Grievous's outstretched hand.  “It's nothing that you would understand,” he said, finally answering Rainbow's query.

“What did you do to it?” Twilight asked.

“Is it...dead?” asked Fluttershy.

“It's a droid; it was never alive to begin with,” Grievous said.  “And I disabled it, since it has no further use.”

Grievous tossed the disabled probe towards Twilight, and she caught it using her magic.  “Keep it,” he said.  “Consider it my first contribution to your society.”

As Twilight held the droid in her hooves, the door to the throne room opened in a yellowish aura.  Celestia, Luna, and Cadence stepped through the threshold all looking...exactly the same as they had before.  What a magnificent waste of time, thought Grievous.  Celestia gave Grievous a warm and reassuring smile as she stepped past him and towards the balcony overlooking the overpopulated square.  Luna followed, giving him a still friendly but much less enthusiastic smile.  Cadence gave Grievous no acknowledgment as she stepped by.  His gaze followed the three of them as they stepped out onto the balcony, receiving an almost overwhelming chorus of praise from the several thousand ponies that has somehow squeezed into the tight space of the square.  Grievous was no stranger to the inexplicable; being a Jedi hunter, he had his experience with such things.  The two guards followed them and set up a position on either side of the group, one maintaining the typical stoic expression while the other eyed everyone warily.

Grievous stayed concealed inside the room with Twilight and her friends, waiting for Celestia to finally mention him so that he could step forward.

After several minutes, the yells of the crowd began to die down, and Celestia cleared her throat as she prepared to deliver her short speech.




“My little ponies,” Celestia started, amplifying her voice magically, "I have gathered you here to deliver unto you some bittersweet news.  For the duration of our history, we have existed on this world by the power of magic and our own physical strength.  As a society, we have become dependent on the qualities of ourselves.  And we have come think ourselves as alone in this universe.  But as of today, we will open our relations beyond that of our own society.  As of today, several new worlds of possibilities will open to us!”

“Now, I'm certain that you are all wondering what the tall beings standing with our Guard are and why they are here.  Let me tell you that they are our first step towards these new worlds that I have mentioned...literally.”

The crowd gasped and looked frantically at the droids surrounding them.

“They are aliens.  They are not from Equus.  And they are our friends.  Please allow me to introduce you to a most important visitor, General Grievous.”

At the mention of his name, Grievous strode out onto the balcony, looking over the vast array of colors that lay before him.  Those in the crowd that could see him gasped or released other fearful sounds.  Only a few alien enthusiasts in the crowd gave Grievous some form of positive reception.

“Grievous comes to us from the planet Kalee, in a galaxy that is distant from our own.  The planets of his galaxy are technologically advanced, and have many things that our society, and the other societies of Equus, could benefit from.  And Grievous can make these things happen for us, and thus, Luna and I have decided to ally ourselves with him and his organization, the Confederacy of Independent Systems.”

Surprisingly, the crowd began to cheer, though comparing the amount of cheering that Grievous was receiving to the amount of cheering Celestia had received was like comparing the size of a cupcake to a wedding cake.  Regardless, it was another step in the right direction, and allowed for a delicious simile.

The ponies were surprisingly accepting of him.  He had never felt nor actually been so welcome since being separated from his people.

“Unfortunately, there is one stipulation that we must fulfill before this new era of Equestrian history can begin.  Grievous's organization, which goes by 'CIS', is at war with another evil organization from his galaxy, called the Republic.  If we allow the Republic any influence on our planet, Equestria and the other societies of the world will fall to ruin and corruption.  The Republic must be stopped.”

The light cheering of the crowd died down immediately.

“Grievous has informed me that the Republic has found our planet.  His forces have intercepted the Republic forces once already, and Grievous has generously offered to assist us in protecting ourselves from the Republic.  He has selflessly asked nothing of you in return for his services.  As such, I expect that he and his forces be treated respectfully across our lands.”

“For now, we are safe, and we should take this opportunity to try to understand the great new times we are in.  And I hope that our interactions now will lead to the betterment of both of our societies.”

With the Princess' speech concluded, the crowd erupted into ecstatic celebration.  Celestia turned away from the crowd and waited for Cadence and Luna to file back into the room, the guards accompanying them turning to follow Celestia.

Behind Celestia, the previously fidgety guard raised his spear and prepared to lunge while she was unaware.  The guard thrust his spear towards her neck, tip skewering her neck completely through.

Or at least that was the intent.  For some reason, the guard found his spear moving the opposite direction of where he was thrusting, pulling him away from the Princess.  He stumbled off of his rear hooves, but before he could reach the ground, a massive white and gray clamp secured itself around his neck.  The clamp, which turned out to be Grievous's hand, lifted the guard effortlessly off of the ground, forcing him to face the General's deathly, rage saturated yellow eyes.  The guard trembled in his grip, dropping his spear to try to pry the hand away from his throat, an impressive feat considering the force put into Grievous's grip.  The spear's clanking got the attention of the three princesses, the six mares still inside the room, and the other guard, all of whom gasped at the sight of Grievous strangling the guard.

“That will be the last mistake of your pathetic life,” Grievous taunted.

“Grievous!” Celestia yelled.

“Unhand our guard,” Luna threatened, preparing a strong offensive spell to counter the General's murderous actions.

Without acknowledging them, Grievous smashed the guard's head into the rail of the balcony, cracking the marble and the guard's skull.

Green blood dribbled out of the massive wound in the guard's head, falling many feet to the road below where the crowd had reeled in shock and disgust at the scene.

Green blood? the princesses and Twilight collectively thought.

As if confirming their suspicions, the pony in Grievous's grip combusted into a torrent of temperature-less green flame, leaving Grievous holding the bloody, probably dead form of a changeling.

“Changelings?” Celestia asked nopony in particular.

“So these are the changelings that Shining Armor warned me about?” Grievous asked, shaking the body in his grip for emphasis.  “Awfully weak.”

Without a second thought, Grievous tossed the body off of the balcony to have it plummet to the street below.  The barely alive but unconscious changeling was lucky that ponies were merciful; a couple of pegusi flew to save the changeling from its lethal fall.




Beside Shining Armor, the mysterious mare watched, staring up disdainfully at the General who had almost murdered the changeling.  “Excuse me, ma'am,” Shining Armor said, addressing the mysterious mare, now confident that her identity wasn't as mysterious as he had first thought.

She glared at him contemptuously before turning and bucking him in the chest.  Hard.  The wind was knocked out of him and he would have collapsed if not for the sturdy body of Big Macintosh next to him keeping him on his hooves.  The mare ran off, heading to the back of the crowd, the ponies that had seen her buck the Captain giving her space.

“Get her!” he yelled when breath had returned to his lungs, and two guards near him broke formation to give chase.  All the while, the droids stood resolute and unmoving.  Screams sounded throughout the crowd and several more scattered bouts of fire flashed, revealing changelings where ponies had just been.

“Guards, get the civilians out of here!” Shining Armor ordered, seeing the direness of the situation.  Around him, civilians panicked as the changelings pounced on them, the guards trying their best to keep the invaders at bay.  A terribly hard impact sounded behind him, and he turned to see the collapsed form of a changeling being stood over by Big Mac, Apple Bloom shaking fearfully at his hooves.  “Thanks,” the Captain said, receiving a nod in return from the hardy stallion.  Drawing his sword, Shining Armor rushed into the crowd in an attempt to protect the civilians as they retreated.




The tension in the room was high.  The ponies in the room were restless, some taking the violence they had just witnessed more intensely than others.  Celestia paced around the throne room.  “How did I not see something like this coming?  What was I thinking, bringing everypony here?  This invasion could have been avoided so easily if only I-”

“Silence yourself,” Grievous demanded from the balcony, which he now observed the situation from.

“Thou dost not address my sister like an inferior!” yelled Luna in Celestia's defense.

Ignoring Luna, Grievous continued his statement.  “Despite appearances, this is actually a convenient occurrence.”

“What!” exclaimed Rainbow Dash.  “How is this possibly convenient?”

“I get to observe how your guard functions in a crisis.  If I'm to improve them, I need to know how good they are,” he reasoned.

“I'll not let this situation become a costly experiment.  Involve yourself, show me that you intend to keep you promise to protect us,” Celestia said, slightly irritated.

“Of course.  I've already commanded my droids to eliminate any changeling that appears to be ready to make a kill,” he said.

“And how are we supposed to believe that?” criticized Rainbow.  “You haven't moved from that spot since this started.”

“I can remotely communicate with my troops,” he stated simply.

“Oh, so you're psychopathic?” asked Pinkie, seemingly unfazed from the events that were transpiring.

“Pinkie, that's so rude!  Grievous is not a psychopath.  I think you're looking for tele-” Twilight said.  However, she was interrupted by Pinkie.

“Oh, wait, no, I didn't mean psychopathic, I meant telephonic,” Pinkie corrected.

At this point, Grievous was staring confusedly at Pinkie, completely lost as to what she was trying to say.  Luckily for her, Grievous was not offended at her 'psychopath' comment.

“Pinkie, you mean telepathic,” Twilight finished for her.  “Are you telepathic, Grievous?” she asked.

“No.  I'd explain how it works, but now is not the time,” he responded, annoyed.  He returned his attention to the battle.  The changelings had done an extraordinarily good job placing themselves around the city.  Though he couldn't make out many of the details, he could see that the Royal Guard's ground forces were a disorganized mess, and they were having significant trouble.  There were consistent green flashes, and he saw many more droids in action than he would have liked.  Fortunately, the aerial conflict was going well; the changelings were being dominated.  From what he could tell, the bug-like wings of the changelings provided vastly inferior speed, power, and agility while in flight.

“How's it lookin'?” Applejack asked the General concernedly, breaking the silence that was several minutes in the making.

“The aerial forces are doing predictably well; the changelings' frail wings make them ill prepared for aerial combat.  The ground forces are performing disappointingly poorly.”

“No, that ain't good,” she said, distressed.  “Big Mac and Apple Bloom're down there.  What if the changelings get 'em?”

“AJ, Big Mac is a strong pony; it'll take far more than a few changelings to get him down, especially if he's fighting to protect Apple Bloom,” assured Twilight.

“Ah...Ah guess that's true,” said Applejack.  “Guess Ah was gettin' worked up over nothin'.”

“If the forces are in peril, then our help is required,” stated Luna.  Celestia turned to tell her to stay put, but was too late.  She had already flown off the balcony to the streets below by the time Celestia was ready to speak.

“Good luck, then, sister,” she said to the floor.  Cadence came over and placed a reassuring hoof over her shoulder.




How the changelings had managed to set up such an invasion as this was beyond Shining Armor's comprehension.  Unlike their previous engagement (he mentally laughed at the irony behind those words), the changelings were making good use of their ability to change appearance.  Many civilians were still panicking about him and Big Mac; the streets were simply too crowded, causing almost all of the ways out of the square to get jammed with traffic and fighting.

Despite the chaos, the guards had done well in protecting the civilians.  So far, Shining Armor had seen no civilian casualties.  Sadly, the same couldn't be said for his guards.  He and Big Mac had seen around ten dead guard, and they had been unfortunate enough to have seen a couple get ambushed by other changelings posing as guards and civilians.  However, their casualties were nothing compared to the number of dead changelings littering the ground.  Some dropped out of the sky, knocked unconscious from some impact sustained from the raging battle overhead, only for them to fall to their deaths; others had been stabbed by the guards' spears, and Shining Armor had sliced up a couple himself.

Off to their side, they saw a guard who had been cornered trying to protect a blue pony with a purple mane behind him.  The guard swung his spear in wide arcs, forcing the changelings back, only to be pounced on by the pony, now a changeling, that he had been trying to protect.

The only redeeming quality of the Royal Guard's performance was the support they received from the droids.  The droids had been milling about the square casually, using their weird magic beam shooting devices to take out changelings that were about to obtain a kill.  Shining Armor inferred that the droids could have easily handled the changelings by themselves, but that Grievous was restricting their actions.

Grievous is testing us.

It was a cruel game, but Shining Armor could see the logic behind his choice.  Now, all he had to do was not disappoint.

A changeling dived towards them at full speed, which wasn't very fast, all things considered.  Shining Armor and Big Mac easily sidestepped.  The Captain brought his sword up as the changeling passed, removing the tip of the changeling’s wing.  It fell to the ground in front of Big Mac, writhing in agony, before Big Mac mercifully stamped its head with his hoof, rendering the changeling unconscious.  Shining Armor took a second to observe the downed changeling.  It was really thin.  Looking around, he noticed that all of the changelings were thin.  In fact, they looked gaunt; as if they had been deprived of food for an extended period of time.

A glimmer of hope sparked in the Captain's mind as a connection was made.  The changelings are hungry!  If we can find a way to get them a consistent supply of food, we could stop these conflicts altogether!

“Big Mac!” he yelled, though the stallion was right next to him.  His loud voice stirred the frightful filly resting on his back, clamping her hooves tightly around his neck.

“Eeyup?” replied Big Mac as he looked around for any oncoming changelings.

“We need to get to the princess; care to come with?”

“Sure thing,” agreed Big Mac, and they slowly made their way towards the castle.




Overhead, Princess Luna opened her wings and pulled out of her steep dive.  She glided above the crowd of struggling ponies, blasting changelings with her magic whenever she could get a clear shot.  A changeling tried to dive-bomb her, but she twisted before she could be hit, kicking the changeling unconscious before returning to her original flight path.

Grievous was correct with the assessment of the ground battle; the Guard was outnumbered and was being outsmarted.  Her appearance seemed to provide a massive morale boost to the troops that saw her aiding them.

Out of the corner of her eye, Luna saw a small orange, purple maned pegasus filly cowering in a corner as two changelings surrounded her.  Luna dived towards them, impaling the closest one with her horn, catching the other changeling off-guard.  Taking advantage of the diversion, she reared up and bucked the distracted changeling's face, metal shod hooves rendering its face nearly unidentifiable as one.  Needless to say, it was dead.  Luna withdrew he horn from the side of the previously impaled changeling, and it fell limply to the ground.

The princess turned her gore-splattered face to the filly that she had just saved, and recognized her as Scootaloo from one of her earlier dreamscape explorations.

The filly looked up to her savior.  “Prin-Princess Luna?” she asked with disbelief.

“Come with us, Scootaloo, and we shall bring you to safety,” Luna replied.

“Why don't you let me help you?” Scootaloo asked.

“Because you are a filly and it is dangerous.  Now come quickly.”

“But I want to help; it's the least I could do,” Scootaloo whined, giving Luna the best puppy-dog eyes she could muster under the circumstances.  Unwilling to delay any longer, the Princess agreed.  Once Scootaloo was on her back, Luna took off away from the square to continue the battle.




As the fight raged on in the square, the number of civilians present had declined drastically; most had made it out of the square, though at this point, the entire city was infested with changelings anyways.  Grievous's droids had been efficient with removing the pests in the square, and were now spreading out throughout Canterlot to continue their jobs, as commanded by the General from the throne room.

And while the other civilians still left in the square were either running or fighting, a red mare with a long, cerulean mane sat in the center of the action, resting on her haunches, watching as Princess Luna jumped down from the balcony and began her own personal assault on the changelings.  From the civilian's perspective, she could watch as Captain Armor and his buff companion slowly fought through an onslaught of changelings.  Many of them were mercifully spared from death as the Captain dodged their attacks and delivered glancing blows, leaving them open for a devastating hit from his red friend.

The mare grinned at the sight of the Captain's slow progress.  She stood up and started on a path to the castle's main entrance, which was stupidly guarded by only two unicorn guards.  As the mare progressed, several guards began to flank her and trot with her.  Fifteen guards surrounded the mare as she progressed, and once the formation was complete, green flames consumed the mare, leaving the form of Shining Armor in her place.




“Guards!” the Captain yelled as he and his small troop ran up to the door.  “Let us in, I have an urgent report for Princess Celestia.”

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison, using their magic to open the door for their Captain.

As the Captain went by the unicorn guards, he provided them with a warning.  “I expect that the changelings will try to impersonate me to get into the castle.  Don't let anypony else get in; you won't know who to trust.”

“Yes, sir,” they said again before closing the doors behind Shining Armor.

Once a good distance from the door, Shining Armor gave a maniacal laugh, combusting into flames as he did so.  Once the light show was over, an evilly grinning Princess Luna stood in his place.




“Guards!” the Captain yelled as he and his small troop, consisting of himself, Big Mac, Apple Bloom, and their recent additions of Braeburn, Sweetie Belle, and Babs Seed, ran up to the door.  “Let us in, I have an urgent report for Princess Celestia.”

“Our orders are to let none in,” one of the guards said.  “Be gone, imposter!”  The two guards raised their weapons.

“Wha...?” Shining Armor asked, confused.  Oh, buck, he thought as he realized what had transpired.  “I'm sorry about this,” he said with a sigh.  Turning to Big Macintosh, he nodded, and as one, the two of them spun, reared, and kicked, rendering the two guards unconscious.

Using his magic to hold the door open, Shining Armor ushered his group in before slamming the door behind him.




Princess Luna and her escort slowly made their way through the familiar, winding corridors of Canterlot Castle.  Her guards walked with her, covering her from all sides, each wearing a malicious smile.

Soon enough, their target, the throne room was within view.  It was now or never.  The time for vengeance had arrived.




As the battle waged underneath him, Grievous stood ever so diligently in his spot on the balcony overlooking the square.  By now, the conflict had spread citywide, and had moved to the ground once the changelings were wise enough to realize that they were hopeless in the sky.  On the ground, Grievous could make out a few of his droids, each surrounded by civilians savoring the safety that the droids' superior combat skills provided.  Overall, Grievous was extremely disappointed at how the Royal Guard had fared during the battle.

He had not had a visual of Princess Luna for several minutes, which wasn't surprising since she had flown to a different part of Canterlot that Grievous couldn't see.  Her arrival on the scene was the pivotal moment of the battle; not only was her powerful magic a blessing for the troops, but her appearance sparked something in them, and they slowly began gaining the upper hand.

The road beneath him was littered with corpses, most of them changeling, a fortunate revelation for Grievous.

As he continued to survey the battlefield, the door to the throne room opened.  Grievous payed it no heed until a very familiar voice rang through the room.

“Sister, we beseech thee for assistance,” Luna yelled frantically.

Grievous turned to see...a perfectly uninjured Luna surrounded by several guards, each of which appeared to be looking around the room, and sizing him, Celestia, Cadence, and the others up.  The sight was certainly unexpected.  If Luna is in need of help, she should at least look like it.  And why would she bring so many guards out of the fight?

The scene was suspicious.  Furthermore, Grievous caught her using 'I' as she explained the situation to her sister.  That doesn't match her speech patterns.

As Celestia and Luna conversed, Grievous reached to his waist for his pistol and one of his many lightsabers.  His actions were undetected by all but Twilight, who observed the General's motions with increasing worry.  She could tell that he had just drawn weapons, though having not witnessed any of the fighting outside, she had no idea what to expect from his tools of war.

“Someone get me a visual confirmation of Princess Luna,” Grievous commanded remotely.

The talking between Celestia and Luna had gotten rather heated; they were yelling, though Grievous was too busy monitoring the chatter from his droids to pay attention to what was being argued over.  However, he noticed that the two remained distant, Luna never leaving her circle of guards.

“Unit 3TY7, visual acquired of requested entity: Princess Luna; visual confirmed of requested entity engaging enemy entity: changelings,” a droid reported.

The evidence was overwhelming; time to take action.




Celestia argued with Luna, trying to convince her to stay in the throne room where it was safe and let the guards do their job.  Apparently, the room was not as safe as she had thought.

To her right, Grievous had equipped a small gray device, and had it raised and pointed to one of the guards around her sister.  Celestia knew not what the device did, but she could assume that it was a weapon of some kind.

The device sounded, making a sound unlike anything that Celestia had heard before.  It propelled a red beam, similar to a blast of magic, at the guard that Grievous had aimed at.  The beam struck the guard's armor, leaving it slightly melted where the blast had hit, and charring the area around it.  The guard grunted in pain, falling to its knees, breathing becoming more and more difficult.

Admittedly, Grievous thought that the guard would have died after one shot; perhaps he should have gone for a head shot after all.  Before he could fire again, a yellow aura surrounded the weapon and ripped it from Grievous's grip.  He turned to Celestia, who held his pistol in the air next to her.

“How dare you assault another one of my guards!” she yelled, making use of the Royal Canterlot Voice for the first time in years.  To her surprise, Grievous remained unfazed.

“And what happened with the last one I assaulted?” Grievous asked smugly.

“It turned out to be a...oh no.”

The guard finally fell to the ground, dead, and the corpse erupted into green flames, leaving the scorched body of a changeling.

Celestia looked back to the group of guards, catching a glimpse of a snarling Luna, horn encased in a green glow as a spell of some kind was being prepared.  Queen Chrysalis yelled in rage, dropping her disguise and releasing the pent up spell.  The projectile went straight towards Celestia, and before she could react, Grievous had stepped in the way, the orange blade of Poh Drüne's lightsaber deflecting it up.  Large cracks formed where the missile had hit the ceiling.

Around the changeling queen, the guards had also transformed, and were now charging Grievous and Celestia.

As the first changeling reached Grievous, he snapped his talon over its face, the creature's momentum carrying its body forward, cracking its neck with a loud and disgusting pop.  He pelted the limp changeling towards the others, hitting two and slowing their progress.  Another changeling assaulted him from the front, only for its throat to meet Grievous's metal fist.  The impact destroyed the changeling's windpipe, and it fell to the ground at Grievous's feet, slowly dying of asphyxiation.

Two more changelings rushed at him, one from his left and another from the front.  Grievous grabbed the changeling coming from his left and propelled it into the one going straight for him, causing the thrown changeling's horn to pierce its companion.  The two crashed to the ground, and the uninjured one struggled to get its curved horn out of its brethren.  The General approached the struggling changeling, bringing his blade through its neck and cleanly removing the head.

Another beam of magic sailed his way, courtesy of Chrysalis, and he swiftly deflected the shot into a changeling hovering adjacent to her.

The changelings stopped their assault for a moment, and Grievous took the opportunity to glance over to the ponies that were now his responsibility to protect.  Fluttershy, predictably, was cowering behind Applejack.  The other five basically shared the same expression of shock and bewilderment, each of them wanting to look away from the horror before them, but just seeming unable to.  Celestia's expression was unreadable.

The conflict resumed, this time five of the changelings charging from several different directions.  Grievous swung his lightsaber downward at the first one to approach him, cleaving its body in two.  Carrying on with the momentum of his powerful swing, Grievous stepped forward, spun, and delivered a roundhouse kick to the next changeling to foolishly challenge him.  The impact sent the changeling across the room at a speed rivaling Rainbow's.  It hit the wall, all bones in its body shattering.  As gravity slowly peeled the corpse off of the wall, a deep imprint remained embedded in the wall.

Grievous turned to face the next changeling.  It arrived sooner than he had expected, and the changeling barreled into Grievous's shoulder with its own.  The force was enough to cause Grievous to stumble back a step, but the unfortunate consequence of such force being exerted on a solid metal surface was a destroyed limb.  The changeling attempted to limp away, dragging its annihilated hoof across the floor, but Grievous scooped it up in his talon and thrust it back into the ground, crushing its ribcage and causing some of its innards to splatter over several feet.

The second to last changeling to have charged him learned from the mistakes of its brethren.  It stopped charging just out of the range of Grievous's weapon and launched a weak shot of magic at the behemoth.  Grievous reflected the shot, returning it to the tip of the changeling's horn, and it fell to the ground unconscious.

The final changeling of the wave deviated away from Grievous completely.  It propelled itself high towards the ceiling, before turning to face Grievous.  Once it turned, a thin blue stick of light came spinning in its direction, too fast for it to be able to avoid the blade.  The lightsaber embedded itself into a high part of the wall while the two changeling halves plopped unceremoniously to the floor.

Chrysalis was left with five changelings and herself.  Somehow, the monster before her had seen though her ploy and took out two thirds of her top troops with ease.  And upon noticing that several more of the silver cylinders that resembled the one that it was holding now around its waist, she determined that this thing was just going easy on her.  It was toying with her.  And she was helpless to stop it.

In a final effort to take town this thing, the last five changelings rushed it.  A swift uppercut severed one of them down the middle while the other four moved around Grievous, and in a surprising turn of events, the General tossed his weapon high into the air.  In an even more surprising turn of events, Grievous leaned forward onto one of his hands, catching his falling weapon with his right talon, using his other arm to keep his balance.  A changeling charged from Grievous's left and one from his right.  He adjusted the position of his legs to counter each of them, and each one shot out in a quick, almost spring-loaded kick.  Neither kick was lethal, however, and his lightsaber had missed the changeling on his right.

Another changeling charged Grievous from the front, only to have its extended foreleg removed as the General brought his lightsaber down upon it and corrected himself into a standing position.  Aside from Chrysalis and the two changelings that were still recovering from being kicked, there was one changeling remaining.  It panicked, and out of instinct, fired a shot of magic at Grievous.  Grievous flung his lightsaber back into the air using his talon and caught it before reflecting the shot back into the changeling's eye.

The two changelings had recovered from their injury, but stupidly attacked in the same fashion as before.  Wanting to end the skirmish, Grievous removed another lightsaber from his waist and activated its green blade.  He stared intensely at Chrysalis, spinning his wrists rapidly, effectively forming a shield on either side of him as he did so.  The charging changelings had too much momentum, and were too late to prevent themselves from flying into Grievous's rapidly spinning lightsabers.  Slices of changeling littered the ground at Grievous's feet.

“You are Queen Chrysalis, I presume,” Grievous said, taking a step towards the changeling queen.

She took a step back, wanting to get away from the murderous beast that stalked towards her.

The General deactivated his lightsabers and put the green one back on his waist.  Chrysalis continued to retreat, but Grievous would not allow this aggressor to flee easily...or at all.  Raising his arm at the Queen, he shot his grappling hook.  The projectile moved incredibly fast, sailing through a large hole in Chrysalis' leg and embedding itself into the marble floor beneath them.

The changeling tried desperately to dislodge the hook, but its grip was too strong.  In a final attempt to remove the grapple, she prepared to grab it telekinetically.  Her horn glowed dark green as the spell was cast, and the cable became slack; though not due to her efforts.

Grievous was within grabbing range of the immobile changeling.  He released the grapple hook, causing the cable to fall on the ground.  He brought his hand under the changeling's head and brought it up, gripping tightly around her neck.

Panicking, Chrysalis began casting a teleport spell, but a hard punch to her chest foiled her concentration.  Grievous clenched his hand tighter around her neck.

“Why have you attacked us?” Celestia asked the incapacitated changeling queen, startling everyone in the room except for Grievous.  She looked at Grievous's helpless victim, and she was shocked to see the emaciated state the Queen's body appeared to be in.

“We are starving to death,” she attempted to explain through her restricted breathing, trying to look at Celestia.  “We need your love.  And no, you can't just give it to us.  We must steal it through impersonation or take it by force.  And since the first, more peaceful way failed, it was time to employ the second method.”  Chrysalis turned her head and glared at Grievous, saying, “But then you went and found this monster, dooming us to extinction.  Oh, but we'll not go down easily.  We will cause as much misery as we can to you pathetic ponies, though it can only be a fraction of the suffering you've forced upon us!”

Fully enraged, Chrysalis swung both of her rear hooves back before thrusting them towards Grievous's crotch.  A loud crack resounded from the impact.  Grievous laughed sinisterly as a pained expression flashed across the changeling's face; one or both of her hooves must have fractured from the force of the impact.

“You attacked without provocation,” Grievous scolded.  “You could have very well found a diplomatic solution to your issue.  But, since you so foolishly chose to fight, you will face the consequences of your actions.”

With that, Grievous placed the hilt of his lightsaber to the Queen's chest and activated it.  The orange blade pierced the changeling cleanly, instantly killing her.  He withdrew his blade from the corpse and roughly dropped it at his feet.

“Eliminate all of the changelings.”




Shining Armor and his crew rushed through the hallways of Canterlot Castle.  Outside, the sounds of battle had diminished quite substantially.  A civilian's occasional scream of horror could be heard as they had been no doubt ambushed by a changeling, only for a zapping sound to follow it, no doubt one of the weapons carried by Grievous's droids.  The droids had been ridiculously efficient with protecting Equestria's civilians and guards, giving Shining Armor a strange sense of safety and unease.

The throne room was in sight, and using a final burst of speed, he rocketed to the doors.  He was weary, and thus his magic was slow, but he managed to get the doors open by the time the rest of his group had caught up.

They looked into the room just in time to watch Grievous drop the lifeless body of the former Queen Chrysalis.  Grievous was holding one of the small silver cylinders that he had noticed surrounding his waist before.  Protruding from it was a long orange light, roughly the same diameter as the hole that went through Chrysalis' body.

Shining Armor and his group stepped into the room, allowing the Captain to shut the door behind them.  Outside, the sounds of the droids' weapons increased in frequency.  Obviously, Grievous was taking the battle into his own hands.

Beside him, the stallions that had joined him warily eyed the General, and the fillies hid their faces from the gore-ridden floor.

Grievous walked over to Celestia and grabbed his pistol from the air, her magic releasing its grip as the weapon was claimed.

“Shining Armor, you have something to report?” Celestia asked her Captain.

Glancing around to the dead changelings around him, he could only sigh and respond with, “Not anymore, your highness.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I figured that we could reason with Chrysalis and reach a peaceful compromise; looks like it is too late for that.”  He raised his head as he finished his statement.  The Kaleesh warlord was giving him the most vile and unnerving look that Shining Armor had ever seen.

A light tapping sound came from the balcony outside.  Princess Luna with Scootaloo on her back gracefully landed and strode into the throne room, utterly dumbstruck at the scene.  “What...what happened here?”

“Some changelings infiltrated the castle and made to ambush me, disguised as you.  Grievous here...dispatched them, to put it lightly,” explained Celestia.

“Princess Cadence,” she said, directing her attention to the pink alicorn, “would you mind leading everypony out of the room except for Grievous and your husband?  I believe we need to discuss something with him privately, and the fillies should not be in this environment.”

“Of course,” replied Cadence.

Eventually, the room was vacated except for Celestia, her sister, Grievous, and Shining Armor.  Outside, the blaster fire could still be heard.

“Grievous,” Celestia started after some time had passed in silence, “I would like to thank you for your assistance in helping us deal with this issue.  However, I am disappointed that you killed Chrysalis.  She did not need to die, and we could have reached some sort of agreement with her, as you said.”

“Before you berate me for my actions, let me inform you that she had considered the diplomatic approach to her dilemma, but she chose to lead an attack instead.  And she would have killed many of your subjects.  She had her chance to make peace, and she has paid the fully justifiable price for not doing so.”

“Sadly, this is true,” Celestia said with a sigh.

“Were the changelings the only threat to your country?  Or are there other things I should be wary of,” Grievous inquired.

“Only the changelings have given us trouble on this scale.  Aside from Discord, who had been dealt with,” answered Celestia.

“Good, then the Republic is our next concern.”

“How can thee disregard the current circumstances so easily?  There are still changelings to worry about,” Luna asked.

“My droids are ending the rest of them as we speak.  They will finish what your Guard had barely started.”  Grievous's second sentence was directed at Shining Armor.

“Are you hinting at something?” he asked the General.

“Yes, I am.  Your troops are pitiful excuses for warriors.  I would not be surprised if one Republic clone were capable of killing the entire Guard, single-handedly.  It seems as if I have a lot of work to do before you can even think of considering the Guards a respectable fighting force.  And until then, you'll have none of my respect.”

“Your degrading talk sours our mood,” Luna growled.

“Then I shall refrain from talking.”

“Enough,” Celestia commanded.  “Grievous, we will discuss your opinions of our Guard at a more convenient time.  As for now, help us clean your mess, and we will find a proper way to thank you for your services.”

The door creaked behind them, and each of them turned to find Applejack slowly walking towards them.  The doors, surrounded in a purple aura, closed behind her.

“Cap'in Armor; General Grievous,” she said as she continued walking forward.  “Ah-Ah just wanna thank y'all fer helpin' ta save mah friends an' family.  Ah don't  think Ah'd've been able to manage had I lost Big Mac 'r Apple Bloom in that there battle.”  Walking up to the Captain, she embraced him in a strong and unexpected hug.  “Thank ya fer protectin' mah family,” she said as she squeezed him tightly.

She let go and walked over to the General.   He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, completely indifferent to the thanks that he was receiving.  She stood for a few seconds, looking confusedly at his leg.  Eventually, she thought of a way to give the General the hug that he deserved.  She stretched onto her hind hooves and wrapped her forelegs around his waist.  Sure it was awkward, but it was the least she could do for the one that potentially saved the life of her and her friends.

“Thank ya fer savin' mah friends; they're like family ta me.”  She maintained her embrace, finding the sensation of the General's cold metal body on her coat...oddly satisfying.

Grievous couldn't say that he was affected at all by Applejack's actions, but as long as it didn't hurt him, he'd let her have her moment.  And after her moment, she made to leave.

“Shining Armor, you are dismissed.  Leave us; get the Guard to begin cleaning the streets, and make sure we collect our dead so they can have their respects given,” commanded Celestia.  The Captain saluted and left the room with Applejack.

Once Grievous and the alicorn sisters were alone, Luna spoke her mind.  “I would not have expected such affection form one such as Applejack.”

“She loves her family and friends very dearly, and anypony willing to risk themselves for the sake of her family and friends get very good standing with her,” Celestia elaborated.  “Though, it should be more than just her thanking you.  You kept countless families from having to lose their loved ones, including Luna...twice.  While it is unfortunate that the changelings had to be dealt with the way that they have been, it was better than the alternative.  I doubt we'd have survived on our own.  Equestria as a while owes you an debt we cannot repay, though we will try our best.”

“You owe me nothing,” Grievous said, starting to get annoyed from all of the praise.

“Oh, Grievous, you are so noble and selfless,” she complimented, smiling at him.  His eyes caught hers for a moment before finding something else to look at, but her eyes seemed to sparkle affectionately for that moment.

He turned his head towards the corpses that littered the room.  “Let's get to work,” he said, hoping to avoid more conversation.


~~~LZ, Outskirts of Appleloosa, 2 days, 7 hours and 20 minutes after the Ambush at US-01~~~




“Sir, we've got contact with Moon!” Shy yelled excitedly.  He looked around to his squad all startled at his outburst.  “Sorry,” he said, resuming his nearly inaudible volume.

“Great,” Viktor responded, walking over to the transmitter that Shy had been laboring over for the past few hours.

“He's sent us a transmission; the machine is decrypting it now.”

After several seconds, the transmission was decoded, and a small hologram of Sergeant Moon's helmet appeared over the transmitter.

“Victor squad, this is Sergeant Moon,” the hologram said.  “I'm contacting you to report that the Loyalty has made it to the system.  All of the data that you've accumulated needs to be sent to me as soon as possible.  Moon out.”

“The report's been compiled; all that's left is for you to give him a quick acknowledgment,” Shy told Viktor.

After recording a quick, “Transmission received, data report inbound,” the information was encrypted and sent to Moons terminal aboard the Loyalty.


~~~Throne Room, Canterlot, 2 days, 7 hours and 21 minutes after the Ambush at Equus~~~




“Unit 5H-A1, Superior, unauthorized encrypted transmission intercepted; entity: Republic Cruiser confirmed in system; relative coordinates of entity: Republic Cruiser confirmed.”

“Good.  Let's give the Republic their little toy back.”


~~~Republic Cruiser Valiance, Strategic location away from Equus, 2 days, 7 hours and 25 minutes after the Ambush at Equus~~~




“Unit 5H-A1, Superior, request acknowledgment from entity: Valiance.”

“Unit F9 120, entity: Valiance, acknowledging.”

“Coordinates of entity: Republic Cruiser currently in transmission.  Prepare hyperspace jump to coordinates.”

“Roger, roger.”


~~~Throne Room, Canterlot, 2 days, 7 hours and 35 minutes after the Ambush at Equus~~~




As before, Grievous stood on the balcony that overlooked the square where an intense battle had taken place not four hours before.  His stance was his standard hands-behind-his-back, and his gaze was directed at the bright afternoon sky.  Behind him, the Princesses, Element bearers, and the ponies that had been with Shining Armor all chatted with each other, recalling the day's events and considering themselves lucky.

For the most part, they had all gotten over the violence that they had just witnessed, seeing it as necessary for their own preservation.  The Element bearers had also thanked Grievous for protecting them, though Applejack had by far been the most expressive of her thanks.

Grievous tuned them all out, though.  He had other things to think about; more specifically, a very precise ambush to monitor.  In reality, though, he was helpless to change how anything up there went.  The entire process was dependent on his droids, and Grievous lacked confidence that the droids would pull the operation off without complications.

“Grievous?  Y'alright?”  Grievous turned to see that the mare with the hat had come to his side.  “Y'all've been standing here starin' at the sky for several minutes now.  Somethin' wrong?”

“Leave me alone, I'm busy.”

“Busy doin' what?” she asked.

“None of your concern,” Grievous replied.  Before Applejack had a chance to speak again, Grievous reached for her hat and threw it across the room.  Predictably, Applejack made to retrieve it, and left him alone once she had.




Several minutes passed, and Grievous continued to stare upon the uneventful sky.  That's not right, there should have been something, Grievous thought.  As if sensing his distress, Princess Celestia had made her way to Grievous's side.

“What are you looking for, Grievous?” she asked.

“I've made arrangements for some fireworks, but they've been delayed,” he monotonously said.

“Unit 5H-A1, Superior, contact with entity: Republic Cruiser made; destruction imminent.”

Two bright flashes appeared over the skies of Equestria.  It was done, then.  The Republic had been rerouted again, and another threat had been removed from Equestria.

The flashes lingered, and soon caught the attention of the throne room's other occupants, as well as many of the civilians that had been braving the streets.

“It's gorgeous,” Celestia admired.  “Thank you.”

Grievous remained stagnant, even as the Princess lightly nuzzled the cool metal of his side.
> Chapter 7: The Day the Moon Fell
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~~Republic Cruiser Loyalty, Orbit of US-01, 2 days and 7 hours after the Ambush at US-01~~~




“Victor squad, this is Sergeant Moon,” Moon recorded into his terminal.  “I'm contacting you to report that the Loyalty has made it to the system.  All of the data that you've accumulated needs to be sent to me as soon as possible.  Moon out.”

Concluding his message, Moon turned from his terminal and walked to a different section of the bridge.

“Soldier,” he said, addressing one of the communications specialists as he approached the clone's terminal.  “I have an encrypted message that needs to be sent to Victor squad.  They have a terminal that has the same encryption signature as the message; find their terminal and send them the message.”

“Yes, sir,” the specialist replied before focusing all of his attention on his assignment.

Content that his message would make its way to Victor squad in a timely manner, he went about to report to the commander-on-deck.  He made his way to the hologram projection table near the back of the room, where the commander was predictably standing and monitoring the vessel's activities.

Truth be told, the commander was not a commander at all.  Instead, he was an ARC Trooper Captain, and a very intimidating one at that.  The base color of his armor was standard white, and he had several light gray diamonds running up the front of his legs, and a large one on his chest.  He wore a kama around his waist and a pauldron over his shoulder, the exposed portions of each dark red while the underside of each was yellow.  He wore a Phase I helmet with enhanced respirator, like all ARC troopers, and above his visor was a purple line.  He was equipped with all of the other ARC amenities, like dual DC-17 pistols, buff gauntlets with a myriad of functions, and a bulky backpack with who-knows-what in it.  In addition to this, he had two personalized vibroblades mounted on the sides of his backpack.

“Captain, sir,” Moon said when he got near the ARC Trooper, “we're about to make contact with Victor squad on the surface.”

“Very good, Sergeant,” the ARC Trooper said.  “When should I expect to hear that they've responded?”

“Most preferably now, sir, but most likely within the next half hour,” Moon answered.

“Terrific.  Don't bother me until then.”

With that, Moon went back to his terminal.




Around twenty minutes later, Moon received a notification on his terminal from the communications specialist he had given orders to earlier saying that the message had been sent.  He closed the notification and waited for Victor squad to respond.  Like the good soldiers they were, Moon had his response within a few seconds.

“Transmission received, data report inbound,” said the display of Viktor's helmet.  At the same time, the data that Victor squad had collected began to make its way to the terminal's hard drive, where it was to be decrypted off of once the entire report had made it to him.  Within a matter of seconds, the entire report had made into Moon's hands, and he let a satisfied sigh escape him.

Suddenly, an alarm blared from one of the communications specialist's terminals.

“Sir, we're intercepting a Separatist transmission!” the clone yelled, catching the attention of the bored ARC Trooper.

“Well, let's listen in,” the ARC Trooper directed.

“Yes, sir, playing it now.”




“Unit 5H-A1, Superior, unauthorized encrypted transmission intercepted; entity: Republic Cruiser confirmed in system; relative coordinates of entity: Republic Cruiser confirmed.”

“Good.  Let's give the Republic their little toy back.”




The bridge stood eerily quiet for a few seconds.

“Our 'little toy'?” a clone asked.

That sounded like Grievous there at the end.  Why would he leave his transmission completely unencrypted?  Unless...he wanted us to intercept the message, concluded Moon.  Realization struck him only seconds later.  We made a mistake somewhere...and now he's taunting us.  We're screwed.

The ARC Trooper waited for a few seconds before issuing his commands.  “Comms, trace the sources of those transmissions!  Everyone else, make to engage; we've been found!”

The bridge erupted into a flurry of activity.  Throughout the vessel, sirens blared and clones made to their battle stations.  Moon rushed to his terminal, ready to quickly issue the ARC Trooper's commands throughout the ship.  Upon seating himself, an important thought came to his mind, and he sat up and hurried to the ARC Trooper.  “Captain Ghir, what should we tell Victor squad?”

“Contact them and keep them in contact.  Make sure to tell them about the forces we experience up here, so as to warn them about what they'll likely face down there,” Captain Ghir responded.

“Right away, sir,” Moon complied, saluting before making his way back to his terminal.


~~~LZ, Outskirts of Appleloosa, 2 days, 7 hours and 22 minutes after the Ambush at US-01~~~




“Sir, Moon is contacting us,” Shy informed Viktor.  The commando made his way back over to the special transmitter and waited for Shy to patch the transmission through.  “There'll be a couple second delay since the message will need to be decrypted, but it shouldn't be too noticeable.”

“Thanks, Shy.  Moon, Victor 91 here, copy?”

His response came a couple of seconds later.  “This is Sergeant Moon here.  Nice to see you haven't been killed.  Anyways, we've got to ditch the formalities.  We've be located.  The head clanker said he's sending our 'little toy' back to us.”

“That's unsettling news,” Viktor said, concerned.  Spy and Gore had taken a break from their sparring session several minutes ago.  They were about to resume, but overheard the transmission, and decided to investigate.

“What's up?” Spy asked without concern.

“To make it short, air support may have been compromised,” Viktor said.

“Basically, Loyalty was caught, and now we've got-” Moon started before being cut off by Shy.

“I'm sorry to interrupt, Sergeant, but there is a bit of a delay with the transmission.  It'd be best if you paused for a couple seconds after a question, just so that we can avoid having a question answered twice and wasting time.”

“Duly noted, Corporal,” Moon said after an inherent delay.  “Back to the topic, I've had no time to look at your report.  Tell me, have you found any Republic property that could possibly be this 'toy' that Grievous is so generously returning to us?”

“I'm sorry to say that we've seen no such thing,” admitted Viktor.  “To be truthful, we've had no interactions with and droids thus far.  Did you say Grievous?”

“Yes.  The men up here have intercepted a Sep transmission,” Moon confirmed.  “The first part was from a Superior, which I'm guessing is one of the clanker's ships, and the other part was the head clanker.”

“Shoot,” moaned Spy.  “If that guy's down here, then we're hopeless.  I might as well say goodbye to my-”

“Quit bantering, Spy, this is serious,” Viktor scolded.  “And I hope you weren't going to say the part of human anatomy that I think you were going to say,” he couldn't resist adding.

“Pray tell, what 'part of human anatomy' did you think I was going to say?” Spy replied smugly.

“Um...genitalia,” Viktor said slowly.

“Ugh, you've got a sick mind,” Spy chastised.  “Though I guess I'd have to say goodbye to that too.”

“Silence Victor squad,” Moon shouted irritated.  The camp was silent for several tense seconds.

“Fier'fek,” Gore muttered to himself.  “It's the Valiance.”  The rest of Victor squad turned to them.  Although their helmets were all in place, he could almost see realization passing across their countenances.

“I'm sorry, Gore, the static from your helmet made what you said completely unintelligible,” Moon said.  “Would you mind removing your helmet and repeating what you said?”

Gore complied.  “The 'little toy' in the Valiance.”

Moon didn't move for several more seconds.  “Fier'fek...”


~~~Republic Cruiser Loyalty, Orbit of US-01, 2 days, 7 hours and 25 minutes after the Ambush at US-01~~~




“Sir, we're picking up more unprotected Separatist transmissions!”

“Patch them through!”




“Unit 5H-A1, Superior, request acknowledgment from entity: Valiance.”

“Unit F9 120, entity: Valiance, acknowledging.”

“Coordinates of entity: Republic Cruiser currently in transmission.  Prepare hyperspace jump to coordinates.”

“Roger, roger.”




Once again, silence reigned across the bridge of the ship.  All eyes and helmets turned to face the ARC Trooper at the back of the bridge.  This silence was short lived as the ARC Trooper decided that they could not afford to waste a second longer.  “Get everyone to the escape pods now!”  At his command, the evacuation sirens clamored throughout the vessel, and everywhere, clones scrambled to the nearest escape pod.

“What's going on, Sergeant?” the display of Victor squad on his terminal asked.

“We intercepted another Sep message.  They're gonna ram the Valiance into us.  I gotta get to an escape pod now.  Um, stay put, unless an escape pod lands in your vicinity.  Moon out!”  After concluding his command, Moon slammed a button on his terminal, ending the transmission and nearly breaking the button.  He was the last one out of the bridge, and he hoped that someone would reserve a spot for him in a nearby pod.  Or in any pod, for that matter.

Dashing out of the elevator that connected the bridge and the main corridors, he made his way to the nearest escape pod area that he knew of.  Several blasts sounded in front of him.  He and several other clones passed through an emergency bulkhead, and after turning a corner, found, to their dismay, that the blasts had been all of the escape pods in that wing.

Cursing, he turned back to try to get to the next set of pods that he knew the location of.  He and most of the clones that had failed to get to the first set of pods sprinted for a  couple of minutes before reaching the next set of thankfully untouched pods.  The corridor that contained the pods was, for the most part, windowed, allowing the clones to look out into space as they prepped the pods.  What they saw was disheartening; as if predicting their use of escape pods, the CIS had dispatched vulture droids and droch-class boarding ships to intercept the pods.  Only one or two pods actually made in into the atmosphere of the planet they had only minutes before been safely orbiting.

Suddenly, a ship ended a hyperspace jump outside the window.

It was the Valiance.

The commandeered vessel made straight for the Loyalty, which wasn't a very far path due to the dangerously close proximity it had ended its jump with.  The Valiance's wing collided with the front of the Loyalty, the immense momentum of the former causing high magnitude tremors throughout each ship.  Several vital systems began failing immediately as contact was made, and no clone or droid in either vessel maintained its footing.  For several seconds.  Fires started and explosions boomed as each vehicle perished a slow, painful death.

The main power reserves aboard the Loyalty gave out after a minute, and the reserves quickly strained to provide the needed energy to run the lights.  Sadly, this meant that the engines were dead, and the planet's gravity was now the only thing propelling the ship.  The heavy shaking from the initial impact ceased, and the clones were finally able to stand.  Not wanting to be incinerated by the friction of a completely unshielded ship plummeting through the planet's atmosphere, the clones doubled their efforts to get the pods ready for launch.

The process was quick by virtue of the fact that they were escape pods, but with the additional vigor of clones not wanting to die, the many pods that lined the corridor were prepped in seemingly ten seconds flat.  Several of the pods near him took flight shortly after.  Instead of getting into his pod immediately, however, Moon took one final glance through the thankfully still intact window.  The scene was substantially worse than it had been before.  Pods that had been cracked open and other debris floated around the compromised vessels, while at the same time, other perfectly lively pods met a similar fate.

An explosion resounded through the halls uncomfortably close to his still idle escape pod.  Moon took that as his cue to get his butt moving.  He crouched into the pod, closing the airlock behind him and placing on his restraints.  The clone that had volunteered to be the pod's pilot made a couple of final system checks, and then they were off.  Moon and the other ten clones in the pod with him lurched at the sudden and wrenching acceleration.

They were immediately thrust into a war zone.  Many of the pods that had been in the same wing as his had already been destroyed.  While the cover that their remnants provided kept them from being discovered too easily by the vulture droids and boarding ships, the small impacts took a heavy toll on their shields.  Saying that Moon felt hopeful about reaching the surface would be a lie.

The Sergeant looked back through the tiny porthole that donned the pod's airlock door.  Behind them, the two Republic cruisers continued to get dismembered.  It was then that Moon noticed that there were raging infernos near the back ends of each vessel, where the engines and generators were located.  As well as the fuel.  And the reserve ammunition.

Another wave of pods ejected from the side of what was once the Loyalty, but they were all too late.  The volatile combustibles combusted in the largest and brightest twin explosions that Moon had ever seen; so bright, in fact, that he had to redirect his vision to the front of the pod and close his eyes.

The explosions consumed several miles of space, leaving anything caught inside its radius thoroughly charred at best.  Large chucks of metal projected from all directions as the massive ships disintegrated, destroying anything in their paths, from clone-filled pods to vulture droids.

Needless to say, Moon and his companions were overjoyed at the fact that they had survived the hailstorm of metal, and even more so that many of the enemies in their vicinity had been decimated.


~~~Throne Room, Canterlot, 2 days, 7 hours and 40 minutes after the Ambush at Equus~~~




Grievous stared at the planet's two new temporary suns, a mix of pride and disdain forming in his chest.  His droids had successfully destroyed not one, but two Republic cruisers simultaneously, while maintaining significantly fewer casualties than they would of suffered had they tried a standard assault.  Ambushes and I go together well, it seems.

“It's gorgeous.  Thank you,” he heard Celestia say from beside him.  He ignored her, though, as he was silently mulling over his droids' stupidity.  They told me that they had received the Republic's  coordinated twenty minutes ago.  The ships should have exploded no more that five minutes after.  Stupid battle droids missed their target!  Now there will probably escape pods that make it to the surface...I don't have the forces to deal with them at the moment, let alone troops spread far enough to get them once they land.  Incompetent pieces of scrap!

And right on cue, a droid from the Superior contacted him, informing him of what he had already deduced.  “Unit 5H-A1, Superior, entity: Republic cruiser has been eliminated; entity: Valiance has been eliminated.  Escape pods launched from entity: Republic cruiser.  Most destroyed, five confirmed to have breached air forces.”

“Track those pods and estimate a landing zone for each one.  Send a droch after each one immediately after you've determined the LZ's.  Also, prepare more racks of infantry for arrival to the surface.  We'll deploy them once this little slip-up has been dealt with.”

“Roger, roger.  We've been monitoring a continuous signal to the South of your position, near area entity: Macintosh Hills.  Data is encrypted, but it is the same encryption style as what we detected from entity: Republic cruiser.  Republic forces on surface confirmed.”

Grievous's eyes widened.  We've already been infiltrated!  He turned to Celestia, just now noticing that her neck was located comfortably (at least he presumed it was comfortable for her; it wouldn't make sense to do it otherwise) on his thigh.

“I must leave temporarily,” he announced, startling all of the ponies that had gathered around to watch the still present light show from space.

“For what reason?” Celestia inquired, no longer nuzzling Grievous.

“My droids have made a mistake and allowed Republic forces to make it to the surface.  I'm going to deal with them.”

“Let our guard assist,” offered Luna.

“No,” Grievous snapped.  He looked to Shining Armor.  “They'd be nothing but meat shields.”  Without waiting for a retort, Grievous leapt over the balcony.  The ponies gasped at the unexpected gesture and leaned over the still cracked railing to watch the General plummet.  Rainbow Dash took no time in racing after the falling cyborg in an attempt to stop his suicidal maneuver.

He landed on his feet with a hard thud, kicking up a substantial quantity of dirt, his legs compressing to allow the kinetic energy to harmlessly dissipate.  The General righted himself and wiped a bit of dust off of one of his arms.  Rainbow Dash came to an abrupt stop next to him, seemly ignoring the law of inertia.  She stared an awe and disbelief at the unharmed Kaleesh.  “You just...fell, like, two hundred feet...and you're completely fine?” she stuttered.

“Yes, now go back to the throne room.  I'll not be having you slow me down,” Grievous retorted, turning to begin his sprint to his shuttle, the Inheritor, that had remained parked on the opposite side of the mountain for the duration of his stay.

“Are you calling me slow?” she asked challengingly.

“No, now get out of my sight!” he yelled, storming off at an impressively fast pace towards his shuttle.  Rainbow Dash stealthily followed him, misinterpreting his command for a challenge and wanting to prove the warlord wrong.




Within five minutes, Grievous was already well out of Canterlot, but his progress was slowed by the steep and mountainous terrain that he was currently crossing.  Most obstacles in his path were easily avoided thanks to his enhanced agility, but he still took his time to bore his talons into the ground beneath him each step for stability.  After all, a two hundred foot fall was nothing compared to a several thousand foot fall off the mountain.

“Unit 5H-A1, Superior, the coordinates for all Republic escape pod landing zones and the source of previous encrypted transmission have be confirmed relative to the location of shuttle Inheritor.Awaiting commands.”

“Send the coordinates to the Inheritor.  I'll deal with the pod nearest to the shuttle.  Have a boarding craft attend the other LZ's.  I'm going to prepare a scouting party down here to deal with the Republic forces near Macintosh Hills.”

“Roger, roger.”

Above him, several streaks of light could be seen dotting the sky.  Some of it was shrapnel from the destroyed vessels, but those quickly dissolved into nothingness as the atmosphere relentlessly had its way with them.  Others were large enough to make it to the surface, and Grievous surmised that they were some of the escape pods that had survived the ambush.  Conveniently, one landed in a forest only a couple of miles from where he was.




Grievous reached the Inheritor a couple of minutes later.  The boarding ramp lowered as Grievous approached and he rushed on board.  The commando droid that had ordered to watch with the ship during the entire stay sat at the terminal at the front.  “Sir, receiving coordinates for enemy pods,” it said in its default voice.

“Good,” Grievous said to the droid.  “Transfer the coordinates of the nearest pod to the STAP; I'll deal with them.  Prepare a standard scouting party to investigate the signal to the south, near Macintosh Hills.  Use the shuttle to get there, and get working on it now.”

“Roger, roger.  Coordinates successfully sent to STAP.  Scanners are detecting one life form in the shuttle's perimeter.”

Grievous looked out the open hatch.  A blur of color zipped behind the nearby rock face as Grievous peered outside.  Foolish ponies, he berated mentally.  He had bigger problems at the moment, however, so he quickly dismissed Rainbow Dash from his mind and mounted the STAP that had been brought on the shuttle when he had first arrived.  Behind him, the commando droid relayed Grievous's orders to the other troops that he had brought.

The STAP zoomed out of the open boarding ramp, Grievous's head barely making it out without hitting the top of the opening, and began its quick descent down the mountainside.  Rainbow Dash followed, struggling to keep pace with the rapidly falling General.




Grievous's progress was being slowed considerably.  The terrain was dense with trees, unfamiliar, and the STAP was not sized to properly carry something with Grievous's stature.  At the moment, he would have made faster time on foot, but all in all, the STAP was the way to go.  The ever-persistent Rainbow Dash flew from treetop to treetop, 'stealthily' avoiding being caught by the General, though he already knew she was there.  Grievous figured that as long as Rainbow Dash stayed relatively close to him, she'd be safe from harm, so bringing her along really couldn't turn out too bad.

Eventually, the crashed pod was in sight.  From what he could hear, the clones that were in it had survived the crash and were still about, probably salvaging whatever they could and determining a course of action.  Instead of taking the time to approach the clones stealthily and ambush them when their defenses were down, he decided that he would charge straight into them.

His STAP broke through the tree line formed by the crashed pod.  He cut the engines and leapt off, the momentum of the vehicle carried it through the group of clones, forcing them to jump aside to avoid getting rammed.  It stopped its forward movement at the other edge of the artificial clearing.

As the ten or so clones scrambled to their feet, Grievous sailed through the air, whipping out his pistol and one of his lightsabers.  He landed on the back of one poor clone who hadn't managed to gain his footing; it immediately broke in the places where Grievous's feet had landed.  A shocked clone stared horrified for a second too long, resulting in a blast to the chest.

Grievous activated his blade in time to deflect a shot from another clone in front of him who had his weapon raised.  He stepped towards the clone and, grabbing the body of the clone that he had stepped on with his talon, used the corpse as shield for the next shot.  Before the clone could fire again, Grievous launched the body into him and used the distraction to get within striking range.  He slashed down across the clone's chest, and the corpse collapsed into a crumpled heap.

A shot from his left was deflected back to the assailant, killing the clone instantly.  Another clone was stupid enough to charge at the General, and was quickly hacked out of the way.  One of the clones attempted to commandeer the abandoned STAP, and was shot down as his back was turned from the warlord.

Two of the remaining clones crouched at a piece of the pod that had fallen a significant distance from the main skirmish, firing at the General and halting his progress towards him.  Behind Grievous, the final two clones raised their weapons to fire at his unprotected back.  Grievous expertly deflected one of the shots from the clones in front of him, causing it to hit and kill one of the ambushing clones.  He unexpectedly pelted his lightsaber at the clones behind cover.  They ducked, just as Grievous had predicted they'd do, and the lightsaber went straight through their cover, and therefore their bodies.

The General grabbed and activated another one of his lightsabers.  He heard a loud clanging noise, and he turned to see the second ambushing clone collapse, head twisted to the side, with Rainbow Dash flying over him, recoiling from a powerful buck.  However, the General had already thrown his newly equipped lightsaber at where the clone had been standing, almost slicing Rainbow Dash in the process.  She screamed and dropped to the ground, cowering as the killing machine flew right above her head.

“I don't want to die!” she whimpered, shaking.

“Relax, you're fine,” Grievous's growled in the most tensing fashion.

She got to her feet, legs turned to jelly from the nerve racking experience of almost being killed.  “That guy was gonna shoot you in the back.  I couldn't just let it do that,” she said absentmindedly.

“I had the situation under control.  Unlike you, I don't just rush into things without a plan,” Grievous scolded, retrieving the weapon that he had just thrown.  “Next time, don't interfere.  You may not be so lucky.”  He moved on to get his other lightsaber, Rainbow Dash flying next to him.

“So, who are these guys?” she asked, finally returning to her normal self.

“These are Republic clones.  They're our enemies, and you shouldn't feel bad if you kill any.”

“Kill?  Oh, no, I don't think I'd be able to kill one.  If I did that, I'd never get it off my conscious,” she said.

“Didn't you just kill one though?” he said as smugly as possible.  They both turned back to check Dash's work.  Needless to say, they were both surprised to see the clone still on the ground, but with a pistol aimed at them.  The clone fired.

Grievous make a quick estimation in his head as to the trajectory of the shot.  There was no way he'd be able to activate one of his lightsabers to block the shot in time, so his did the next best thing; pushing Rainbow Dash out of the way.  The shot hit Grievous's now outstretched hand as he returned fire.  The clone's head dropped, a smoking charred spot resting on the center of his forehead.

The General did a quick survey of the area, checking to see if any of the other clones were moving.  After confirming that they were all dead, he picked the first lightsaber he had thrown off of the ground and returned both it and his pistol to his waist.

“Grievous?  Are...are you okay?” Rainbow asked next to him, staring at his blackened hand.  Now diverting his attention to the wound, he tested the appendage for damage.  It was nothing too serious; connections had been lost to the bottom three fingers of that hand, but he still had three working ones, which would suffice.

“I'm fine,” he said.  “Help me destroy the pod,” he commanded.

“I guess I owe you one, so I'll get on that!” she said enthusiastically, giving him an overdone salute.  The pegusus sped off, only to return a half second later to ask, “Um...how would I go about doing that, and why do we need to?”

Grievous walked over to the nearest dead clone and took his grenade pouch.  “We can't let the Republic reclaim it.  This is standard operating procedure, deal with it or go away.”  He continued before she could refute his rude statement.  “Each of the clones has a pouch like this.”  He shook the pouch in his hand for emphasis.  “Get them all and throw them into the pod.”

She saluted again and darted off to get all of the pouches.  Grievous opened the pouch in his hand and pulled out the one of the several thermal detonators that it held before tossing the remaining grenades into the pod.  It only took a few seconds for Rainbow to return with the pouches from the other clones, all of which were emptied into the pod.

“Now, we need to get the corpses in there,” Grievous instructed.

“What!?  That's just sick.  Why do we need to do that?” she shouted.

“Standard operating procedure,” the General panned.  “Now get working.”

The corpses were a bit too heavy for the disgusted and disgruntled Rainbow Dash to move around effectively, so most of the work was done by Grievous.  Still, the two of them had the corpses stashed in the pod with their grenades in a timely manner.  Once finished with that, Grievous handed the thermal detonator that he had taken earlier to Rainbow Dash.

“We're good now; all we need to do is blow it up.  Push the button and toss it into the pod.  Then get out of the area immediately, unless you want to be killed.  I'd also cover your ears; it might be loud,” Grievous told her.  She complied, igniting the detonator and throwing it into the pod.

With that done, Rainbow launched a safe distance into the air while Grievous sprinted for the STAP, getting on and out of the blast radius, leaving only a couple of seconds to spare before the detonator detonated, causing a chain reaction with the other grenades.  The resulting explosion could be seen and heard by ponies as far as the castle's throne room.


~~~Escape pod, US-01, 2 days, 7 hours and 50 minutes after the Ambush at US-01~~~




Crash.

The pod hit the dry, cracked earth with a devastating amount of force.  The drift through the remnants of the Loyalty and Valiance had devastated the pod's shields, and the pod lacked the energy needed to suppress the intensity of the landing.  The front of the pod crumpled several inches and a massive crater formed, and only the things that had been restrained stayed relatively put.

Sadly, the rough landing had its victims; the pilot's legs had been crushed by the pushed in control console, and the force had whipped his head around violently enough to snap his neck, killing him.  One other clone had a restraint malfunction, and his body launched out of his seat upon impact, wrecking several of his bones, including his ribs, which shifted inside of his chest, piercing at least one vital organ.  Additionally, his body careened into another stationary clone, causing the impacted clone to break his wrist as he tried to protect himself from the dead projectile.

Fortunately, aside from some vertigo and bruises from rifles flying about the cabin, no other injuries existed.  This was the first time that Moon managed to get a decent look at the clones that had boarded the pod with him.  Twelve other clones had filled all available seats.  With two dead and one injured, that made ten clones fit for duty.  He also noticed that he was the highest ranking soldier present.

As soon as his assessment was finished, he began issuing commands.  “Alright men, get yourselves out of here.  Help the injured one out, I'll stay in and get your weapons and to find a med kit.  Survey the area and check for Seps.  Move!”

The other clones shouted a collective “Sir, yes, sir!” and began to fulfill their orders.  Moon removed his restraints and found gravity trying to pull him to the front of the pod; obviously, they had crashed front first and formed a crater instead of sliding across the ground.  It was a less than optimal situation.

The other clones deduced the angle of the pod after removing their own harnesses as well, and, after orienting themselves, began the awkward climb out of the pod.  The clone that had previously been sitting opposite of Moon was the first to make a move towards the exit.  The latch opened and brilliant sunlight poured into the pod, which was previously lit only by the dim red emergency light.

Moon dropped to the front of the pod, being careful to avoid the clones that were climbing up to the open latch.  Once finding footing, he paid his quick and silent respects to the two dead clones that lay unceremoniously across the wrecked console.  He looked up to see that the clones had been fast with complying with his orders; all had gotten out except for two that had been assisting the injured clone out of the pod.

The injured clone made his painful way through the open hatch, and the other two clones turned their attention to Moon.  “Sir, hand us the weapons and we'll toss them out,” the one closest to the hatch said.  Moon nodded, and the assembly line quickly got all of their weapons to their respective owners outside of the pod.  In the process, Moon found his pistol and placed it in the empty holster on his belt.

“Get out and watch for Seps,” Moon said to the two clones in the cabin once the task was finished.  “I'm going to try to find a med kit.”  The two clones climbed out, leaving to do his self-assigned task alone.  Several compartments lined the sides of the pod above the seats.  One of them had to have a med kit in it; that was protocol, after all.

He checked the compartments that were within his arms reach, to no avail.  Sighing, he tried to make his way up the aisle between the vertically oriented seats, positioning his legs to support him when he reached for another unchecked compartment.  He had finally made it to the back of the pod, and had one more compartment to check.  Of course it's in the last one I check, he grumbled mentally.  Moon opened the door to the compartment, and to his satisfaction, there lay a fully equipped first aid kit.

Crash.

Something large landed near the pod.  The ground shook, which by proxy caused the pod to tremble.  Moon's boots lost traction with the seat that he was leaning against, and he fell back down to the front of the pod.  His back hurt and the wind was knocked out of him, but he'd be able to stand within a couple of minutes.  From outside the pod, he heard a mechanical contraption operate, and several small clanks followed.

“Boarding craft!” a clone yelled.  All other noise was drowned out by the heated firefight that followed.  Moon tried to stand, his breath having returned, but as he rose to his feet, something in his leg pained him.  It wasn't broken, and likely not fractured, so Moon was at a loss as to what was hurting in his leg.  However, the pain was manageable, probably thanks to the adrenaline now coursing through his veins, and he began to climb back up the pod to see what was going on.

Moon didn't like what he saw, to say the least.  He peeked his head out of the open latch, only to witness the last standing clone from his small troop murdered by a B2 super battle droid, one of the three droids that were left standing from the quick skirmish.

Enraged, Moon pulled his pistol out of his holster and opened fire on the super battle droid, the powerful DC-17's shots easily piercing the droid's tough armor.  The destroyed droid fell to the parched arid ground, leaving a tiny cloud of dust in its wake.  Before Moon could direct his fire to the B1 next to it, return fire was delivered from a commando droid from elsewhere.

Moon ducked into the pod, waiting for the droid to stop shooting.  Within a few seconds, it did, and mechanical footsteps could be heard very close to the pod.  With the element of surprise on his side, Moon stood again and blasted the B1's head off with a perfectly placed head shot, it's body dropping to the ground after having failed to climb the steeply angled pod.

Two thunks sounded behind Moon, and he turned to see the commando droid standing above him, the droid having leapt onto the pod in one swift jump.  More accurately, Moon saw the droid's fist zooming towards him.  The punch landed directly on his visor, and while it didn't hurt him, it left him dazed.  His grip on his supports slackened, and he slipped down to the front of the pod.  Again.

This time, he caught himself, and though it wrenched his arm a little, he could at least try to retaliate.  Another impact hit him; this time, the droid had stomped on his head.  There goes any hope of retaliating.

He fell to the front of the pod.  The distance was much shorter than his first fall, so he was completely fine upon landing.  Above him, the droid peered into the cabin to see if Moon had died.  Moon stirred, and the droid entered to finish the job.

Instead of climbing down through the hatch, the droid decided to jump and fall through the opening.  It touched down, and a loud crack was heard as the droid's heavy foot landed on Moon's unarmored elbow joint.  The clone screamed in pain as his arm became limp.  The droid raised its arm to deliver another punch to Moon's head.  A shot hit the raised fist, courtesy of the pistol held in Moon's other hand.  The distraction gave the Sergeant ample time to line up and fire a perfect shot to the commando droid's weakly protected neck.  The despoiled droid fell backwards upon the nearly vertically standing floor of the pod, and it slouched into a wasted heap of metal.

With the menace removed, Moon turned his attention to his ruined arm.  It was in bad shape, but it was repairable.  If he could get his hands on a first aid kit, he'd be able to apply some bacta and a splint, which would help out tremendously.  Maybe some painkillers as well, he thought, as he felt the adrenaline rush die down, pain and unconsciousness slowly pulling at him.

I just need a med kit.  He heard a sudden sound come from the back of the pod.  He looked up, and saw something fall out of the open compartment above him.

Oh, the irony.  That was his last thought before the first aid kit landed on his head and he finally passed out.


~~~LZ, Outskirts of Appleloosa, 2 days, 7 hours and 45 minutes after the Ambush at US-01~~~




The four clones and one droid that was Victor squad stared to the sky, silently observing the twin explosions as they finally finished extinguishing themselves.  The fading remnants of the Loyalty represented the clones' fading enthusiasm quite well.  With the Loyalty gone, so were their connections with outside Republic forces.

“Well...” Spy began speaking.  “We're screwed.”

“Eeyup,” Gore agreed, drawing out his agreement.

“Men, we need to lie low for a couple of days,” said Viktor.  “The Seps are probably scouting the planet for Republic forces right now.  We need to shut off and hide anything giving off a signal.  That means most of this transmitting and jamming equipment.  We'll keep the speeders out, but basically everything else needs to go in the gunship.”

“Yes, sir,” said Spy and Gore while saluting.  Shy also saluted, but didn't speak.  The four of them set about moving their now useless equipment into the gunship.  With the help of the portable repulsorlifts, the process was quick, and within a couple of minutes, the camp was cleared of their transmitting and jamming machines.

Five long streaks of fire appeared in the sky as they finished their assignment.  Looking up, all four of them deduced that they were escape pods from the Loyalty.  Maybe we're not as screwed as we think.

Shy's science module tracked the pods and roughly calculated the distance each one would land from their position.  “Viktor, sir, one of the pods will be landing not too far from us,” he said.

Viktor was about to respond, but the distant sound of a pod landing interrupted his statement.

“How far is 'not too far'?” asked Spy.

“Half-hour drive in a straight line, no more than an hour with the inevitable obstacles,” Shy responded.  Spy reveled in what seemed like was the first thing Shy had said directly to him.

“Viktor, sir, perhaps we should check the pod out?” suggested Gore.

Viktor put a hand to his chin in contemplation.

“It's probably for the best,” Shy agreed.

Viktor turned to Shy.  “I'll trust your judgment, Corporal.”  Addressing the entirety of his squad, he said, “Load up the BARCs.  Someone grab a med kit, just in case they need help.  R8, stay behind and watch the camp.  If any Seps show up, don't get caught.  You're more valuable than the camp.”

The clones quickly prepped their speeders, making sure to grab a med kit before heading out.




After an uneventful forty five minutes of driving, Victor squad arrived at the sad scene in front of the escape pod.  A droch-class boarding craft had landed nearby, and several bodies, droid and clone alike, littered the ground.  Viktor looked upon the downed soldiers, sad that they had been too late to rescue the clones.  He walked around the pod, checking for signs of survivors that had escaped; the evidence pointed to the contrary.  Shy, at the same time, was checking the corpses for any wounded survivors, but sadly found none.

“Spy, why don't you head in the pod and see what you can find?” said Shy as he checked the bodies.

“Sure thing, other boss,” he said, then made his way to the pod's hatch, which stuck in the air due to the angle of the pod's impact.  He peered inside, surprised to see three clones at the bottom, as well as a destroyed commando droid.  Attaching his weapon to his back, Spy carefully climbed down the pod's near vertical aisle.

Is that...is that Moon? he thought once he reached the bottom.  Spy crouched to get a better look in the dimly lit area, and upon seeing the crescent moons on the clone's shoulders, confirmed his suspicion.  He checked Moon's pulse.

“Hey boss man,” he said via a private helmet channel, “I found Moon here.  He's alive.”  He noticed the Sergeant's wrecked elbow.  “But, he's a bit mangled.  There's a conveniently placed med kit here, so I'm gonna do what I can to patch him up before bringing him out of the pod.”

“Copy that,” Viktor replied.  “We'll cover you.”

Spy opened the med kit and pulled out the gauze, syringe, vial of liquid painkiller, and splint.  He withdrew a small canister of bacta from his belt, and injected a small amount of it into Moon's arm using the syringe.  After the bacta came the painkillers, applied with the same method.  With those applied, Spy began adjusting the broken part of Moon's elbow, moving the large chunks back to approximately the correct spot.  With that done, Spy removed the armor on Moon's arm, wrapped it in a thin layer of gauze, and them replaced the armor.

“Spy, hurry up,” Gore said using the same channel as before.

“Calm down, Gore, I'm almost finished.  Just gotta get the man a splint and a sling,” Spy said, surprising Gore by using a serious tone for the first time since they've been on the mission.

Within a couple more minutes, Moon's arm had the splint applied and Spy had fashioned a sling out of the remaining gauze and a piece of fabric from the kit.  Spy looked up to the top of the hatch to see Shy peering down to him.

“I'm ready to get out of here.  Care to help me up?”

Shy said nothing, but raised his rifle and launched an ascension cable into the ground next to Spy.  Shy tightened the cable, and once it was taut, Spy began to use it to climb out, holding onto it with one hand and grasping Moon with the other.  Once Spy was near the hatch, Shy relived him of Moon.  They carefully lowered the unconscious clone to the ground, resting his back comfortably against the pod.

“So...did I patch him up well?” Spy asked as Shy checked his work.  Shy nodded yes.

“Good,” Viktor said from behind them.  “We need to get back to camp as soon as possible.  We need to find a way to load him up on one of the speed-”

A groan interrupted Viktor.  Victor squad turned their attention to Moon as he stirred, regaining consciousness.  “Ugh, where am I?” he said groggily.

“Moon, you're with Victor squad,” Viktor answered.

“Well, what luck,” Moon muttered.  The Sergeant looked around him, seeing Victor squad and the corpses of clones and droids around him.  “What happened?”

Viktor glanced around.  “We weren't there, but the evidence suggests that your pod was ambushed soon after landing.  You're the only survivor, and we're gonna bring you to the LZ so you can catch up with some rest and with what we've discovered.”

Moon groaned as he stood.  The pain in his leg flared up unexpectedly, and he fell, catching himself with his good arm.  On his second attempt, Moon got to his feet, leg hurting, but the pain manageable.  “Yeah, that's what happened,” he said, the fog in his mind clearing up.  “That commando droid crushed my arm.  Fier'fek.”

“How are we going to get all five of us to the LZ?  There's only four seats?” Spy asked.

Shy had been contemplating the issue, and presented his solution.  “Viktor takes one with Moon as the passenger.  Spy, you take the other, Gore rides in the sidecar, and I'll sit myself somewhere in between the two, using the repulsorlift in Gore’s weapon to help balance my weight.”

“Good idea,” Moon agreed.

“Right.  Load up, I'll destroy the pod,” Viktor said.  Victor squad went to the speeders, helping Moon into the sidecar of the first speeder before struggling to situate themselves in the other.  In the meantime, Viktor went to each of the dead clones, taking their grenade pouches and dumping the grenades into the pod's cabin.  Once finished, he set a charge, setting the timer for two minutes.

Finished with that, Viktor strode over to the speeders, which had been completely prepped.  Spy, Shy, and Gore had managed to place themselves on the speeder, though Shy looked extremely uncomfortable.  He mounted the speeder, saying, “We've got two minutes before it blows; let get well out of range.”  With that, the engines for speeder revved, and they took off back to the LZ.


[ b]~~~Republic Camp, Outskirts of Appleloosa, 2 days, 8 hours and 15 minutes after the Ambush at Equus~~~




A massive dust storm whipped up around the shuttle as it landed atop one of the two mesas that were the only interesting geological structures in the area.  The boarding ramp opened, and droids immediately began to file out.  Grapple hooks quickly lined the edge of the mesa, and the scouting party poured into the camp.  It looked abandoned; most of the equipment had been stored in the gunship.  There were semi-fresh footprints in the dirt, and much newer wheel tracks, likely from an astromech, but no other signs of life were present.

A small explosion resounded through the confined space as a breaching charge blew open the gunship door.  Three B1's marched in, looking for anything they could use to identify the clones responsible for the gunship and where they went.

The clones had been minimalists when packing, and thus, within five minutes, everything except for the gunship's databanks had been searched to no avail.  One of the B1's in the party reported this to magna guard that headed the group.  “What is our course of action?” it asked after concluding its brief report.

“The Republic gunships erase all data regularly, except for navicomputer coordinates.  We'll gain nothing from hacking the ship; destroy it.”

“Roger, roger,” the B1 affirmed, then set out to rig the gunship.

Conveniently, there were a couple of small crates of ordinance in the troop bay of the gunship already, so all that the droids needed to do was to prime a detonator nearby.  After retreating around the mesa, the magna guard triggered the bomb.

The gunship and its contents ceased to exist.


~~~Unspecified Location, Heading towards LZ, 2 days, 8 hours and 35 minutes after the Ambush at US-01~~~




For the fourth time that day, Victor squad looked upon an explosion that signified another failure.  Not too far ahead of them, smoke and fire spewed up from the gap in between the mesas that had served them as their home.  They slowed their speeders to a stop as the situation became clearer.

“Well...what do we do now?” Spy asked no one in particular.

“I say that we drive in there and blast those tinnies to spare parts,” Gore seethed.

“That's too reckless,” Moon rebuked.

“Well, we'd have surprise on our side.  That's worth something,” Gore defended.

Spy turned to Viktor.  “Boss man, your thoughts?”  Viktor ignored Spy.  He was staring intently in the direction of the LZ.  “What's wrong?” he asked, looking to where he thought Viktor was looking after not getting a response.

After several moments of silence, Viktor finally spoke.  “That's R8 out there.”  He sent everyone a video feed of what he saw so that they knew what he meant.  “If R8's alive, then we can meet up with him.  He'll tell us what we'll be up against so we can plan accordingly.”

Victor squad resumed heading towards the LZ, stopping once they met up with R8.  “Stay put,” Viktor commanded as he dismounted to check up on his droid.  “R8, good to see you made it out,” he said to the droid.  R8 whirred in response.

“So, uh, we found Sergeant Moon by luck,” he started.  “That's not important right now, though.  Were Seps behind the explosion?”  R8 beeped in confirmation.

“How many, and are they still there?”  As a response, R8 gave a long series of beeps and whistles that the rest of Victor squad save for Shy understood.  Shy sighed in relief once R8 concluded, causing the others to give him a curious glance.

“You understand astromech?” Spy asked, confused.

Shy nodded yes, then indicated to Viktor who was approaching them.

“R8 tells me that there's only a standard scouting party at the LZ.  That's a few B1's, three or four B2's, and either a commando droid or an IG-100 magna guard.  R8 tells me we've got a magna guard there,” Viktor informed them once he got there.  “They haven't left yet; if we're gonna attack them, it's gotta be soon.  Like, in a couple of minutes.”

“If we plan to leave the LZ behind, we should attack,” Moon said.  “As long as we give no leads as to where we have headed off to, the Seps'll probably send the bulk of their forces here, which will allow going elsewhere safer.”

“Agreed,” Viktor said.  “Here's the plan: we'll leave the speeders behind.  Moon, since you're wounded, you'll stay with them.  Gore and I will enter the camp on foot and lay suppressing fire.  While they're distracted there, Shy will take R8 up and establish a sniper position while Spy sneaks behind.  Got it?”

“Yes, sir; good plan,” Gore said.

“Copy that, sir,” confirmed Spy.

Moon and Shy both nodded.




Having left Moon to tend to the speeders a few hundred feet away, Viktor and Gore found themselves crouching behind the rocks that they had not long ago been safely on the other side of.  Continuing to commune via private helmet comm, Viktor gave one last instruction.  “Gore and I on 'go', Shy and Spy on 'sync'.  Ready?”

Gore tensed.

“Go.”

Viktor dashed out from behind cover, spreading his fire across the span of the entire camp.  He was met with little success; only one B1 went down.  But that was not his objective.  With the droids now concentrating their fire on Viktor who had just taken cover behind another boulder, Gore stepped out.  His chain gun, having already been revved during Viktor's maneuver, spewed insane amounts of plasma down range.  Several droids went down due to Gore.

The droids reacted quickly, taking cover behind the several large chunks of gunship strewn about the landing zone.  Gore continued to spray his fire at the protected droids, any of whom stood to shoot him being immediately taken down by Viktor.  The droids were pinned, exactly where Viktor wanted them.

“Sync.”

R8's thrusters sparked to life, easily carrying his cargo up the face of the mesa.  Once over the flat surface of the mesa, Shy let go of the handholds, rolling to allow his forward momentum to dissipate, and crawled to the edge.  Now at a good vantage point, Shy pulled his rifle off his back and began to open fire on the B2s.

Upon receiving the command, Spy burst from the boulder he was hiding behind, making himself the last wall of the box that trapped the droids.  He unleashed all the silent fury of his DC-15.  The droids, however, had cover around all of their sides, and while they were completely encircled, they still had a rather safe location.

At least, it would have been rather safe if not for the complete exposure to Shy's near dead-on accuracy.

As the droids numbers slowly diminished, the magna guard withdrew its reserve weapon from its back: a Bulldog rocket launcher.  Shy attempted to shoot the small weapon out of the droid's hand, but missed.  Before he could try again, the magna guard fired.  Its first rocket was directed at Gore.  He dived behind a boulder while the rocket hit an adjacent one, sending small pieces of debris in all directions.  Swiftly turning, the second rocket was aimed at Spy, with similar end results.  The third rocket was sent in Shy's direction.  He crawled back as the rocked hit just under the edge when he was lying.

The magna guard expended his last three rockets, repeating the cycle.  With the edge of the mesa severely weakened, Shy's weight broke the first foot or so off.  His upper body jerked down as the ground gave way, and he lost his grip on his rifle.  It and several rocks fell to the bottom of the crevice.

With the clones distracted due to the explosives, the magna guard put its plan into action.  It dropped its weapon and turned to the mesa.  It's hand shot out of its wrist, gripping the edge of the mesa and acting as a grappling hook.  A powerful winch in its arm pulled the droid up the face of the mesa, and within a few seconds, it was atop it with Shy, who fumbled to draw his pistols.

Viktor, Gore, and Spy resumed their attack after a couple of seconds of not having rockets fired at them.  When they turned to the now almost non-existent group of droids between them, they were surprised to see that the magna guard was missing.  Viktor spared a glance up.  He could no longer see Shy, instead seeing the very end of an activated electrostaff.

“Shy is in trouble!” Viktor shouted, distressed.  “Hurry up, we've got to help him!”

“Get the droids' attention and I'll EMP them,” Spy suggested.  Immediately, Viktor and Gore split up and broke cover.  The droids divided their fire between the two of them.  Gore stopped between each piece of passable cover while Viktor allowed his katarn armor to take minor blows.  Whatever would get the job done fastest.

A brilliant blue staticy field surrounded the droids.  They twitched erratically, then fell to the ground deactivated.

“I'll make sure they're dead,” Gore said.  “Get up there and help Shy.”

Viktor and Spy prepared their weapon's ascension cables.  They aimed at the edge of the mesa, ready to fire and scale the steep face.

Then, unexpectedly, they saw Shy.  He was pushing the magna guard towards the cliff face.  And once it was near the edge, he continued to push, sending the wrecked droid off the cliff.  It hit the bottom with a loud thud and a crack.  The commando went to inspect the damage as Spy fired his cable to provide Shy a way down.

The droid had an odd array of wounds.  Most noticeable was the electrostaff that completely impaled it through the light that had once been lit on its chest.  The next thing Viktor saw was the absence of one of the droid's hands.  It had been cleanly severed off.  And finally, its face had been dented, shoved back into its head about an inch in roughly the shape of a fist.  Shy, you've got some explaining to do later.

Spy and Gore had gathered around the ruined droid by now, and Shy had made it to the bottom with them.  He found his rifle amongst the rubble and joined his squad.  The attention of the others was focused entirely on the magna guard.

Shy lightly tapped Viktor on the shoulder, bringing him back to reality.  “Oh, um, yes.  Spy and Gore, search the camp for anything salvageable, primarily survival supplies.  Shy and I are going to retrieve the speeders.

“Yep, sure thing.  And Shy?  You're gonna have to tell me what exactly you did to make this droid look like that,” Spy responded.  Shy didn't respond, and Victor squad went back to their duties.




“Most of the rations survived, as did two of our med kits and a small crate of ammunition,” Gore said to Viktor upon his return with the speeders.

Viktor looked over the assorted items in front of him.  “Well, it'd be nice to maybe have a little bit more, but we need to travel light to maintain our speed.”

“About that, where are we going now?” inquired Spy.

“The maps!” Viktor exclaimed, suddenly panic-stricken.  “Did you find the maps?”

“Uh...no,” Gore said glumly.

“Fier'fek.  Shy, please tell me that you scanned the map and have the scan with you.”

Shy nodded, and Viktor sighed heavily in relief, shoulders slumping several inches as he tried to lower his suddenly fast heart rate.  Finding a suitable dark surface, Shy projected the scan onto it, the dark surface contrasting with the bright projection and causing it to appear sharp and clear.

“So, you found a map, huh,” Moon said, impressed.  “Why hasn't it been 3-D rendered?” he asked upon noticing that it was a simple, old school map.

“The original map was a print of a hand drawn copy.  I'm not trusting that the map was originally drawn precisely to scale, and 3-D rendering such a map yields much more misleading results than simply following the 2-D rendition,” Shy said.

“Fair enough.  So, Captain Viktor, where exactly are we going?” Moon asked.

Viktor cleared his throat before giving his brief briefing.  “Right, so we are approximately here,” he said, pointing to a spot between Appleloosa and Macintosh Hills.  “The original plan was to follow these tracks here up to this place here, Canterlot.  The depiction of Canterlot is that of a castle, so it's safe to assume that Canterlot is the capital of Equestria, the country we're in.  It is also depicted here on the side of a mountain, so it's also safe to assume that it's on the side of a mountain for real.  At the base of the mountain is a nearby settlement: Ponyville.  

“These two places appear to be a kind of hub for all the tracks in the country.  Thus, we were going to gather as much intel as we could on our way up to said hub.  Once there, we were going to set a sort of base camp, likely in the Ponyville area, due to Canterlot's inaccessibility and probably lack of cover.  After a camp was set up, the plan was to follow each branch to their end, again gathering what data we could before returning to camp to compile and send it."

Moon let what Viktor had explained sink in before commenting.  “I must say, that is quite the solid plan, except for the fact that contact with the locals is extremely likely.”

“We've already determined that the locals are not a threat.  They're underdeveloped technologically, and, based on what we saw in Appleloosa, they're not substantially militarized,” said Viktor.

“Uh-huh.  So, what were the plans for once this was finished?”

"Wait for Loyalty to provide pick-up.”

Moon snickered.  “Anyways, that was the original plan,” Viktor continued, a little annoyed.  “With the Loyalty gone, the camp and most of our gear destroyed, and Seps likely working in conjunction with the locals on some level, we've obviously got to rethink our strategy.”

“Obviously,” Spy chimed in.

“Do we have another strategy?” asked Gore.

Viktor hummed in thought while the others thought to themselves silently.  Shy quietly spoke up.  “Well, if Canterlot is really the capital of Equestria, it would make sense that Grievous would be there.  So, if we can make it to the hub, we'd be able to observe what kind of relations have developed between the Seps and the locals, as well as simply observe what the Seps are doing.  They should be our first priority since they pose a threat to the Republic.”

“Agreed,” agreed Viktor.

“However, with the CIS aware of our presence, we should take an out-of-the-way route to the hub, so as to minimize our chances of being found.  Look, we can go West and into the San Palomino Desert, then North around Ghastly Gorge, before finally heading North East through Froggy Bottom Bog.  We'll end up in the Everfree Forest, which should provide a good spot to observe from.”

The remainder of the group contemplated.  “Look, we don't have much time to waste here,” Gore pointed out.  “We've got to go soon, and this is probably the best course of action.  I'm with Shy.”  R8 agreed.

“While it's dangerous to go without any knowledge of what lies in those parts, I must say that I've no better or safer alternatives,” admitted Viktor.  “Let's pack up and leave no clues as to where we're going behind.  Let's make for the hub.”
> Chapter 8: In the Aftermath of it All
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~~Main Gate, Canterlot, 2 days and 9 hours after the First Ambush at Equus~~~




After disposing of the Republic pod, Grievous and Rainbow Dash speedily made their way back to Canterlot.  With the Inheritor no longer in the vicinity, Grievous decided to bring his STAP into the city with him.  As the two of the approached the main gate, they were a bit surprised to see the streets rather full of ponies, some of them guard and most of them civilian.

“What's going on here?” Grievous asked one of the unicorn guards once he had made his way to him.

“The Princesses are sending everypony back to their homes,” the guard explained after curiously looking over Grievous's STAP.

“Are my friends being sent home too?” Rainbow Dash asked the guard.

The guard hesitated, trying to remember.  “I don't believe so.  I think Celestia is waiting for you in the castle.”

“Oh, best not keep her waiting,” she said.  Turning to Grievous, she said, “C'mon Grievous, let's hurry.”

Grievous dismounted his STAP and walked up to the guard.  “I'm leaving this with you.  No one is to touch it.  I'll send one of droids to fetch it once the crowd has cleared.”

The guard looked up fearfully at the looming and glaring cyborg.  “Um, yes, sir, understood,” he said shakily, adding a whimper at the end to further show his discomfort.

Saying nothing, Grievous walked into Canterlot.  The crowds about him parted to let him pass while Rainbow Dash flew a few paces behind him.  They walked for a couple of minutes in silence before Rainbow Dash finally spoke.  “You know, scaring that guard like that was kind of mean.”

“It's not my fault he has no courage,” Grievous scoffed.  “Though, it's not very surprising that he didn't.  So far, the Royal Guard has been a disappointment in every area, not even worthy of their title.”

“Isn't that a little harsh?” she asked, somewhat shocked that Grievous was so willing to bash the Guard.

“Based on what I've observed, not at all.  But it shouldn't concern you; you're not a part of the guard, and my droids will fix their errors.”

“I know I'm not a part of the Guard, but with Shining Armor being Twilight's brother, my friends and I get to know most of the going-ons of the Guard,” she reasoned.

Grievous waited for a few seconds for Rainbow Dash to continue.  When she did not, Grievous spoke.  “And your point is...?”

“Well, I guess, uh, well-” she stuttered, not sure how to put her thoughts into words.  Defeated by her vocabulary, Rainbow Dash sighed.  “Never mind.”  And Grievous didn't, and the two of them continued through the crowds in silence.




Soon enough, Grievous and Dash made their way to the square, which was now occupied by the majority of Grievous's droids and a few Royal Guards.  In the center of the square was a large fire, fueled by the many changeling corpses that had accumulated during the day.  The air smelled vile, and Rainbow Dash had to cover her muzzle to keep from vomiting.  Even with the smell dealt with, just the sight of so much dead stuff was churning her stomach.  There had to have been at least one hundred corpses in the fire already, and the number continued to increase as the droids piled more changelings in.

The two of them stopped to watch the activity.  “How many are there?” Dash asked quietly, trying not to inhale any fumes.

Grievous contemplated for a second.  “Four hundred would not be an unreasonable number.”

“Four hundred!?  Your droids killed four hundred changelings?  That's so many!” she exclaimed, throwing her hooves up for emphasis.  She quickly replaced her hooves after receiving a whiff of the foul stench.

“Hopefully it's enough that changelings will be discouraged from coming here in the future, if any still remain.  Come on, let's get going.”




Not five minutes later, Grievous and Rainbow Dash were making their way down one of the castle's many elaborate hallways.  Grievous was intent on making it to his room so he could begin repairing his hand.  He reflected back on the incident, clenching what he could of his wounded hand in rage at Dash's foolishness and stupidity.  He cast her an angry glare while she looked away.

They made it to Grievous's room.  “So this is where Celestia put you, huh?” Dash asked.  The answer was obvious enough, so Grievous didn't reply.  Instead, he just reached out and pulled on the knob.

And pulled on the knob.

And shook the knob violently.

Grievous growled in anger.  He was ready to kick the locked door down, but refrained from doing so since he didn't want to make the Princesses mad.  Successfully calming himself down, he lowered himself to the knob's level.  He took a tool equivalent to a Swiss army knife off of his waist and withdrew a thin metal rod from it.  Grievous put the rod in the keyhole and began to attempt to pick the lock.

A minute passed, and he was met with no success.  Rainbow Dash fluttered about impatiently.  “Do you even know what you're doing?” she finally asked.

“I believe so,” he muttered.  “You don't often find hard locks in my galaxy.”

“Ugh, well hurry up.  We're probably late for whatever the Princess wants us to do now.”

A click sounded from the door.  Grievous tested the knob and found the door to be unlocked.  Satisfied, he replaced his tool and walked into his room.  Rainbow Dash followed him in, looking at the rather bland adornments and lack of techy stuff.

“Huh, I'm surprised there's no fancy electronic stuff in here, this being your room and all,” Rainbow said.  She looked to Grievous, who was frantically pacing around the room, pulling out drawers and sifting through the closet.  “Uh, Grievous?  What'cha lookin' for?”

“I'm looking for my repair kit,” he said, flinging the made bed sheets up to see if it was there before crouching to check under the bed.

Being distracted, Grievous didn't notice the piece of paper slowly drifting down onto Dash's head.  She pulled the paper off her head once it landed and looked at it.  “Hey Grievous, this is for you”.  He stood and tore the note out of Dash's hooves.

Dear Grievous,

Words cannot describe the gratitude I feel towards you for your actions.  As a small and insignificant token of my appreciation, I'm having you relocated to a much more roomy suite.  You'll undoubtedly find the new arrangements much more comfortable.

I've had some of my servants move your few belongings to your new room while you were gone.

Once you have read this, please return to the throne room.  The others would like to thank you, and once that is done, my sister and I will show you to your new accommodations.

Sincerely,

Princess Celestia

“So...what's it say?” Dashed asked eagerly.  These ponies are incredibly aggravating.

“The Princesses want us in the throne room as soon as possible.”




The large doors gave way to Grievous's might as he pushed them aside to let himself into the throne room.  Aside from the two alicorn princesses sitting on their thrones, the room was vacant of anyone.

“Grievous and Rainbow Dash, it's good to see that you've returned safely and unharmed,” Celestia said as they stepped forward.

“Show me to my room,” Grievous commanded.  Luna glared at him, but Grievous gave no notice.

Celestia was evidently startled to be addressed as harshly as she was.  “And it can't wait?” she said, narrowing her eyes at Grievous.

“It could, but I prefer that it doesn't,” replied Grievous.  “I've been wounded and need to fix myself, which I can't do now that you've had my tools and other possessions moved without my consent.”  He showed his blackened hand to the Princesses.  Celestia went wide-eyed and she grabbed Grievous's hand to inspect the wound.

“Oh, my, I-I'm sorry; I didn't know,” she said concernedly.

“Art thou-” Luna started, then cleared her throat, “-are you hurting?”  Luna's glare vanished as she looked at the injury.

“It's nothing mortal,” Grievous grunted, ripping his hand out of Celestia's hooves.  “I just need my repair kit.”

“Um, right,” Celestia said.  She was at a loss for words.

“I told you we shouldn't have touched his belongings without his consent, sister,” Luna chastised.  “We are sorry, Grievous.  We'll lead you to your room.”  Celestia nodded, and the two Princesses led Grievous and Rainbow Dash out of the throne room.




Grievous's new accommodations were rather impressive, significantly so when compared to his original room.  This room was tall enough for Grievous to stand at his maximum height with ample room to spare, and the floor room was sufficient enough to allow Grievous to pace around in large circles without hindrance from walls or other furnishings.  A large bed -large for a pony, anyway- occupied one side of the room with a dresser and nightstand adjacent to it, and there was a table with a mirror mounted on it on the other, but other than those, the room was bare of adornments.

Sitting in a small pile in the center of the room were all of Grievous's things, including the repair kit that Grievous was longing for.

“Wow, Princess,” Rainbow Dash admired as she flew around the room's ample air space.  “This is like the room you let Rarity use when she visited.  Aren't these rooms reserved for, like, super important guests?”

“Are you saying that an advanced cyborg warrior-diplomat from another galaxy isn't a 'super important guest'?” Celestia asked in return.  

Dash halted her flying and began rubbing the back of her neck with her hoof.  “No, I'm not saying that.  I just...didn't think of Grievous that way.”

“So how did you think of Grievous?” Luna asked.  Rainbow was saved from answering by a loud metallic creaking sound coming from the opening of the repair kit.  Having been caught up in their own conversation, the three mares had zoned Grievous out, therefore not seeing Grievous grab the repair kit from the pile of his things.

The Princesses and Dash gave the General curious glances.  Grievous sat cross-legged on the floor with the repair kit in front of him like a filly opening a gift on Hearth's Warming Eve,.  “I apologize for the interruption,” Grievous said upon noticing that the conversation between the room's other occupants had ceased, though he didn't look up.  “The hinges haven't been oiled recently,” he stated.  He looked up to see the three mares continuing to stare at him, Celestia blushing slightly.

“There's a table, you know,” Dash pointed out.

“I know, but it's too small.  A table to you is a desk to me.”

“He's kind of cute like that,” Celestia blurted out, silencing herself with a hoof before she could say anymore.  Luna and Dash gave her strange stares.  Removing her hoof, she said, “He... doesn't he kind of remind you a filly opening gifts when he sits like that?”

“I guess,” Dash agreed, looking back to Grievous.  Grievous face palmed, producing a very loud clicking sound.  “I don't think he appreciated your comment, though.”

“Speaking of, um, gifts,” Luna started, giving an awkward fake cough, “shouldn't we be going down to the ball room?”

Having regained her composure, Celestia replied.  “Of course.  Grievous, how long until you're ready?”

“Without you three distracting me, half an hour.”

“I don't think Pinkie Pie would appreciate us stalling for that long,” Celestia said, sighing afterward.

“Is Pinkie doing what I think she's doing?” Dash asked, suddenly giddy.

“Yes, Rainbow Dash,” Luna answered.  “Grievous, We're- I'm sure that Twilight would be intrigued to observe you repair yourself...that was weird to say.  Perhaps you could do that in the ball room and teach her a little about how...you...work.”  Luna bore an unusual expression.  “It's weird to talk of another living being as if they weren't.”

“Fine,” Grievous growled, shutting the squeaky lid of the repair kit.




Grievous was expecting a celebration of some kind, not an unusual thing for a party to do after a victory.  And when Luna mentioned the 'ball room' in their earlier discussion, he was expecting a more formal and organized celebration.  Thus, he was surprised to enter the ballroom and find it decorated as if they were celebrating a five year old's birthday party.  The entire atmosphere, despite the presence of notable figures such as Shining Armor, was infantile, and it disgusted Grievous.

Fortunately for him, he had work to do, and that excused him from the celebratory festivities.  He sat himself at a large, unoccupied table in the corner of the room and began to diagnose the damages.

Using a specialized tool from his repair kit, he pried the charred armor plate off of the back of his injured hand and inspected the machinery.  Grabbing a different tool, this one a thin rod with an electrode on one end, he began probing the various pistons, wires, and servos that formed his hand.  His prodding provided mixed results.  The good news for him was that the only broken part was the primary servo motor, which rested approximately in his palm.  The drawback to this, however, was that almost all of the other circuitry connected to it in one way or another.

Fixing his hand would be precise and tedious work.

The Kaleesh spared a glance around him to see what the party's other attendees were up to.  On the opposite side of the room from him was a refreshment table, piled high with pastries of various kinds.  A large group of ponies consisting of the Element bearers and their families congregated near it, chatting by the looks of it.  There were also three fillies that seemed to be enjoying themselves, each chasing each other about the room in their childish games.  Scattered about the room were a few Royal Guards as well.  Though they were still clothed in their iconic golden armor, indicating that they were on duty, they nonetheless partook in the festivities.  Finally, at a table not far from the Element bearers sat Celestia and Luna, who were caught up in their own conversation.

Grievous returned to his work, quietly picking through the repair kit for any spare primary servos, or at the very least, the components to make one.  To his dismay, he had neither the spare part or the components; just a few of the servo's internal mechanisms.

With his work now about doubled, Grievous split his arms, giving himself three hands with which to work as opposed to just one.  He immediately sent to work loosening the wrist that had the broken hand, and eventually, he was able to pull the hand completely out of the wrist.  Doing so allowed the hand to be manipulated more easily, giving him easy access to bolts and other fasteners that would otherwise have been nearly impossible to reach before.  Holding his removed hand still with its mirrored counterpart, Grievous diligently went about removing the wrecked servo.




“...We turned around, and that was when the guy fired.  And he would have gotten me, too, but Grievous pushed me out of the way, taking the hit for me.”

“Wow, Dash, that's quite the story,”  Twilight admired.

“Indeed.  Putting himself in harm's way for your sake was quite the honorable move,” agreed Rarity.  “Perhaps he's not as brutish as he originally came across as.”

“The guy sure knows how to make a heroic impression,” admitted Shining Armor, who was now out of uniform.

“But if he's injured, why is he here and not in the infirmary of something?” Twilight queried.

“Um, I'm not too keen on the details, but he said something about a his hand simply being broken.  It looked pretty bad when I saw it; the entire back of his hand was all burnt and stuff.  Grievous said that all he needed was his repair kit and then he'd be fine.”

“Oh, right, 'cause his body is metal, not flesh.  It's just such a weird concept, so weird that that fact seems to slip my mind,” Twilight reasoned.

“Ya know, Dash,” interjected Applejack, “Ah think ya'll owe the guy 'n apology.”

“Uh, for what?”

“Well, for one thing, ya followed 'im when he told ya ta stay here.  Then ya got'churself involved in his fight when ya shouldn't've, since he does know more about these 'clones' than we do.  And then, because ya got'churself mixed up in his fight, he had to get injured to save ya.  And now look at 'im; he's gotta sit there all alone fixin' himself up instead'a enjoying the party.  His party.”

Dash sighed heavily.  “Yeah, I guess.”

“Ugh, I know,” Pinkie said with a hint of sadness in her voice.  “Nopony should be forced to sit out at their own party.  And while I'm completely fine with throwing another party for him to make up for this one, I don't know if he'd like it or not.”

“You do know that Grievous doesn't have to be sitting alone, right?” Twilight asked.  The others agreed.  “So then, why don't we go over and talk with him; Dash, you could apologize to him, and Pinkie, you could ask him whether or not he'd like another party.”

Dash glanced over towards Grievous.  “It looks like he's already got company,” she snickered, and the others looked to him as well.  They watched as three blank flank fillies disrupted the injured general's delicate repairs.

“Why don't we go help him before they break him more,” suggested Rarity.  “Or vice versa,” she added after catching a glimpse of Grievous's hate filled eyes and one of his arms struggling to refrain itself from drawing one of his weapons.  Her other friends agreed, and, leaving Shining Armor and Big Mac to their own one-sided conversation, they made towards Grievous, with Fluttershy lagging behind a couple of paces.




With surgeon-like precision, Grievous had managed to extract the primary servo from his hand.  All that remained to do was disassemble the servo and replace anything in it that was broken, then replace the servo and reattach everything.

Grievous put his hand and the fasteners he had removed from it in a pile to the side before focusing on the servo.  He meticulously brought his tools to the small contraption and began to disassemble it.  After a few minutes, he finally found the issue: melted wires.  Fortunately, he had replacement wires in his kit.  Keeping his eyes on the servo, he reached out towards the kit to retrieve the spare wires.  His hand swiped the empty air a few times before he looked up to find his kit not where he had put it.

“Um, Scoots?” said a light yellow filly to the orange one with the purple mane that was rummaging through the repair kit.  “Ah, uh, Ah think he needs that back.”

The orange one looked up to Grievous on the receiving end of a deathly glare.  “Oh, uh, sorry,” she said, pushing the kit towards the General.  Surprisingly, she showed little fear.

He took the kit and peered inside.  The inside was a mess; the organized chaos that it once was was now simply pure chaos.  He sighed in irritation.

“So you're Grievous?” the orange one continued.  “I'm Scootaloo.  Rainbow Dash was telling us about how awesome you were, and how you saved her life...twice...in one day.”  Grievous gave no response.  “She thinks that you're an awesome friend, and any friend of hers is a friend of mine!” Scootaloo exclaimed happily while Grievous continued to ignore her.

“And Ah'm Apple Bloom,” the yellow one introduced herself as.  “Applejack's also been sayin' good things 'bout you.”

“I'm Sweetie Belle,” said the white unicorn, speaking up for the first time.  “My sister seems to like you as well.  You've made quite the impression.”

But Grievous ignored them too, to engrossed in repairing himself to care about what they were saying, though he managed to catch their names.  “What're you doin'?” Scootaloo asked curiously.  The three fillies diverted their attention to what Grievous was doing.

“Oh dear Celestia, your hand!” Sweetie Belle yelped once she noticed the arm that had no hand.



	
Celestia, having heard her name, looked to the source of it, and chuckled when she saw Grievous sitting with the fillies.




Sweetie Belle bounded across the table to get a closer look at the wound, scattering Grievous's precariously placed parts about the tabletop.  If the fillies didn't have his attention before, they certainly did now.

“Dude, you alright?” Scootaloo asked, picking up and inspecting Grievous's detached hand.  “Why is your hand metal?”

“You're not bleeding?  Or anything?” Sweetie Belle thought aloud, now grasping his incomplete arm.

Grievous couldn't find words to respond.  He was seething, and in his rage, found himself unable to speak...or at least say something not insulting.  He knew that harming these fillies in any way would tarnish the good reputation that the CIS had garnered so far, and so he tried his best to calm himself down.  Regardless, one of his arms still twitched towards the weapons at his waist.

“Girls, you should probably leave him alone for a bit.”  The three fillies turned to see the newcomer.  Rarity and her friends approached the table.  “You appear to have annoyed him.”

“We're sorry,” Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo told Grievous in unison.  They walked away, giving the adults room to occupy the other seats at Grievous's table.

Grievous quickly reattached his arms and looked to the mess that the fillies had made.  He proceeded to sort the mess, disregarding the six mares' presence.

“I apologize if my sister disturbed you,” apologized Rarity.  “She and her friends are quite destructive if left to their own devices.”

Again, Grievous ignored his companions.  “What are you doing?” Twilight asked after a few awkward seconds.  The General sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he'd not be left alone for a while.

“I'm repairing my hand,” he said simply.

“Yeah, about that,” Rainbow started.  “I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you in the first place, and that you got hurt because of me.”

Grievous grunted in acknowledgment, then continued to reorganize the table top.  After several seconds of awkward silence, Twilight spoke up.  “Is there anything we can do to help?”

“No,” Grievous snapped, but after a second of consideration, he changed his mind.  “Actually, if you're insistent on helping, you can help me sort the repair kit.”  He shoved the disorganized container towards her.  “Just make a pile for each type of part.”

“Okay,” she said.  Using her magic, she emptied the kit's contents on the table and began sorting.  Rarity and Fluttershy moved to her side to help her out.

“So, Grievous, are you enjoying the party?” Pinkie Pie asked excitedly.

Stalling for a couple of seconds, Grievous allowed himself to finish fixing up the mess the fillies had made before replying.  “Not particularly.”  Pinkie seemed to literally deflate.  “I've never actually attended a party, but if all one does at a party is talk, it seems like a pointless endeavor to me.”

“Oh, but you do soooo much more than just talk,” Pinkie began to elaborate.  “You play games like pin the tail on the donkey and spin the bottle and truth or dare and other board games, and you also dance and listen to music, and you eat delicious cake and cupcakes and muffins and drink punch and-”

“Ah think he gets the point, Pinkie,” Applejack interrupted.

“How have you never been to a party, though?” asked Rainbow Dash.  “Do you even party in your galaxy?”

“Some do, but I've never had the opportunity.  My time has been spent fighting.”

“If you haven't been to a party, then that means that you haven't had cupcakes!  And of you haven't had cupcakes, then you need to have some!  Stay right there, I'll go get you some,” rambled Pinkie.

“Don't bother,” Grievous said before Pinkie could run off to get him some cupcakes.  “I can't eat.”

“What do you mean 'you can't eat'?”

“I have no mouth,” he said, bemused.  Isn't it obvious?

Pinkie chuckled.  “Oh, silly, of course you have a mouth.  You can't speak without a mouth, I know from experience.  You also can't speak when your tongue is all huge and blue spotted and makes you sound like 'plllltt', but since you can speak, that means that you do have a mouth!”

“From...experience?” Grievous stuttered, slightly bewildered.  “Even if I did have a mouth, I wouldn't be interested in eating a cupcake.”

Pinkie was shocked.

“In any case,” he continued, “Kaleesh are mostly carnivorous; I doubt pastries would go with our digestive systems well.”

“What's a 'Kaleesh'?” Twilight asked from directly beside him, her attention to the assortment of parts on the table.  “And if you're carnivorous but have no mouth, how do you get nourishment?  And-”

“Twilight,” Applejack interrupted, “Ah know that ya want'a learn every little detail 'bout Grievous, but don'cha think that should wait 'til after we finish this up?”

“I'll get to your questions after I'm done with my hand,” agreed Grievous.  “But your distractions are significantly drawing the process out.”

“Oh, okay,” Fluttershy said meekly.  “If you need privacy to finish, I think it's best that we let you have it.”  Without waiting for any response, Fluttershy retreated from the table.

“Uh,” sighed Rarity.  “I suppose I'll follow her and see if she's alright.”  She followed after Fluttershy.

Applejack looked her remaining friends.  “It's prob'ly best to let 'im finish up uninterrupted.  C'mon Dash, Pinkie, Twi.”  With that, Applejack got up and went elsewhere, seconded by Rainbow Dash who was quickly followed by Pinkie Pie.

Twilight looked up to Grievous, who had resumed his work.  “Um, would it be alright with you if just sat here and observed?  I find what you're doing extremely fascinating, and it something that-”

“Yes, fine, just be quite while you 'observe',” Grievous groaned.  Confound these ponies; if I had a mouth, they'd drive me to drink.

She and Grievous sat silently at the table until Grievous had repaired his hand, which took no more than twenty minutes.  All the while, Twilight had been generating questions for the alien to answer, and as soon as he was in working order, the torrent of inquiries was unleashed upon the general.  For around two hours he sat answering questions about his species, the galaxy's technological advance advancement, and other trivial factoids to the best of his ability and patience.




“Sister, may We -I- ask you of your opinions about Grievous?” asked Luna as she sipped from her cup of delicious purple punch known simply as 'Gummy's favorite'.  “You seem to have taken a quick liking to him, and have been not-too-subtle about it.”

“Ah, gossip,” Celestia said with a relaxed sigh.  “Such a dirty indulgence that we rarely get to indulge in.”

“I ask not out of a want for juicy gossip, sister,” clarified Luna.  “We ask out of fear of what the confirmation of our suspicions may possibly lead too.”

The solar princess' mood immediately soured.  “I don't believe I understand what you mean.”

Luna allowed herself a few seconds to gather her thoughts before speaking.  “You've made it apparent that you are infatuated with Grievous.  And while I'll not criticize you for your choice, We do have our -excuse me, I do have my- concerns.  He is brash, disrespectful, reckless, and violent.”

Celestia gave her sister a questioning look.  “And your concerns are?”

“I fear what might happen if his presence brings chaos upon us; he certainly has the attributes to do so.  But even more that that, I fear that he may be deceiving you or using your affections to blind you to his true purpose here.”  Luna's expression grew sad, and with pleading eyes, she said to her sister, “The well-being and prosperity of our subjects comes before us.  I just don't want you to forget that like I once have.”

With watery eyes, Celestia reached a hoof over to her sister's shoulder and laid it there comfortingly.  “I will not forget.”

Luna returned the gesture, “Thank you,” she said as their reassurance somehow turned into an embrace.

Breaking the contact, Celestia resumed the conversation.  “To answer your first question, I sympathize with him.  He has had a troubled past.  Many who have gone through the suffering that he has would have given up on their lives, but he has remained determined to overcome all challenges placed before him.  The sad truth from what he told us is that he has none who cares for him.

“He is like Discord in the way that both are alone.  But while Discord hadn't known of the magic of friendship until recently, Grievous once knew it and had it was stripped from him. The Kaleesh he once was or could have been has been laid in a coffin of hate and grief secured shut by nails of loneliness.

“I'm ranting aren't I?  I apologize; these things get me started.  I suppose, to sum up, I want him to feel appreciated, not just for his actions, but for what he is and could be.”

Throughout Celestia's short speech, Luna listened with a neutral expression.  When she was done, Luna carefully considered what she had said and formulated her response.  “Sister, your goal is a noble one.  I will remain wary of Grievous, for he still does not have our -my- full trust.  On the other hand, It pains me to see one's life so tragic.  Please help him, but always be safe and remain cautious until his trustworthiness is gleaned.”

Celestia gave her sister a wide and warm smile.  “It pleases me to know that the cold of the moon did not numb your heart.”

Luna smiled at the joke and compliment, which grew into a contagious giggle.  It jumped to Celestia, and few several seconds, the two alicorns were in a quiet fit of hysterics.


~~~San Palomino Desert, Equestria, 2 days, 10 hours and 30 minutes after the Ambush at US-01~~~




All around the small group of clones rolled seemingly endless ranges of sand dunes.  The descending sun caused any exposed sand to give an amber glow, sharply contrasting with the unlit shaded sides of the dunes.  Combined with the pink, orange, and yellow sky, the scene was picturesque.

For the last hour and a half, Victor squad had been making steady progress through the desert, slowed only by the consistent breaks that R8 needed to cool down his boosters.  Currently, they were on one such break.  They had tucked themselves in between two high dunes, using them as cover while waiting for the droid.

“Hey, boss man,” Spy wearily said through their private comms.  “I know we're in a hurry, but have we determined when we'll get to eat?  I mean, it's been a long day since breakfast.”

“Quiet your infantile banter,” Gore barked.

“Hey, calm down, I was only asking,” Spy replied.

“Stop it, both of you,” Moon ordered.  “We'll eat once we've finished traveling for the time being; that's how these things work.”

“Speaking of which,” Viktor started, “Shy, how much farther do you think we should go?”  He looked up to Shy, who was laying on one of the dunes surrounding them, peering through his scope.

Predictably, he took his time in answering.  “If the time taken to get from the LZ to the river is any indication of scale, then we should be about two hours away from the point at which we should head north.  We should stop for the night around there.”

“Very good,” replied Viktor.  “R8, you ready to get moving?”  The droid beeped in confirmation.  “Right then.  Shy, get down here and let's get going.”  Shy made his way down the dune, and when he was back with the group, they mounted their speeders and again made their way east.




The minutes wore into an hour and then some in uneventful silence, except for Spy's occasional request for nourishment.  He was ignored, and the clones trudged on.  The sun had now descended, dying their surroundings an eerie shade of blue.

The dunes had given way to dry, cracked earth like that of their old camp and its neighboring areas.  Unlike the unchanging dunes, their current environment featured natural formations, including a small plateau with a convenient cave in the side.

“Spy,” Viktor said upon noticing the cave.  “Over there; we'll see if it's safe to camp there for the night.”

“Right away Boss man.”

The two clones swerved towards the entrance, stopping once they got the mouth of it.  “Spy, Gore, you're with me to check out the cave.  Shy, Moon, R8, stay with the speeders,” commanded Viktor.  Spy and Gore dismounted and, with Viktor with them, made their way inside the cave.

It was dark, so the three of them switched to low-light mode on their visors.  Spy entered first, putting his stealth training to good use.  He made no sound as he ventured forth, sweeping his weapon around the cavern.  Behind him, Viktor followed, his DC-17 copying Spy's motions.  Taking up the rear was Gore, his pistol readied and aimed behind them in case something decided to ambush them from there.

Surprisingly, the cave was quite clean, as if someone took care to get the dust out of it.  It only took about a minute for the group of clones to find themselves in an extremely large open area which was the farthest they could go.  Piled in the center was a moderately large pile of gems and other treasure.

“Peculiar,” Viktor noted, speaking over an internal private channel.

The three clones had lowered their weapons, having not seen any threats in the chamber.  Spy walked towards the pile.  “Who just leaves valuables like this in a pile on the floor?”

Some clicking sounds were heard from above them, and they shifted their attention and weapons towards the ceiling.  Movement was seen going behind one of the many stalactites that hung from the ceiling.

“Circle it,” Viktor ordered.  Spy crept to his right while Gore took the left, withdrawing his chain gun.  Before they could completely encircle the thing, it dropped from the ceiling.  It unfolded it wings, catching itself and gliding -or more accurately, barreling,- towards Viktor.  He rolled out of the way as the creature sped by him, unleashing a stream of purple flames from what was presumably its mouth.

The creature pivoted once it reached the entrance of the room, and the flames had lit two wooden torches placed at either side of it.  With the torches burning brightly, the clones could see the creature that now stood to block their way out.

It was a reptilian creature, standing about a foot shorter than one of the clones, covered in golden scales save for black spines that ran from the top of its head to the tip of its tail and its claws.  It stood on all four of its legs, and it also had a pair of large, membranous wings, which were currently flared out in an aggressive stance.  The irises of its eyes were a deep purple, and the eyes themselves were very large relative to the other parts of its head.  And its brow was furrowed in anger.

“Who dares intrude in my home?” it bellowed in a distinctly feminine voice.  For emphasis, the creature snorted, letting loose puffs of purple smoke.

Not expecting the thing to speak, let alone in Basic, the clones looked amongst each other in confusion.  After a few seconds, Viktor cautiously responded.  “People in need of a place to spend the night.”

Like the clones were a second ago, the fact that the clones spoke its language took the creature by surprise.  “You speak?” it said, all previous aggression replaced with confusion and curiosity.  “I've not seen anything like you before,” it said as it approached the clones.  Its wings were no longer splayed out, and Viktor took that as a sign that it was no longer hostile.  “Tell me, what are you?”

“Humans,” Gore replied instantly.  However, the creature looked between the three of them, clearly at a loss as to which of them had spoken.  Putting his chain gun back on his back, Gore followed up his answer with, “And you're a dragon?”

The movement caught the dragon's attention.  “Yes,” it answered, now looking at Gore.

Wanting to end the conversation before Gore divulged too much information, Viktor said, “We apologize for intruding, dragon.  But this cave is obviously occupied, so we'll just leave you alone and find somewhere else to stay.”

“It's not often -or at all, really,- that I get visitors, and you've piqued my curiosity,” the dragon said.  “If you need shelter, you may stay here, so long as you do not harm me nor steal from me.”

Gore looked to Viktor.  “It's probably best to take the offer.  This dragon might have knowledge that we might find useful as well.”

“It's our best option,” conceded Viktor.  “We'll accept your hospitality.”




The dragon sniffed the speeders curiously as the clones sat in a half circle elsewhere, eating some of the few bland rations that they had.  With their helmets off, the dragon was able to see which of the humans was speaking, but it stayed out of their conversation while they ate, so as to not be rude.

“Gore?” Spy asked with his mouth full.  “How did you know that that thing was a...what's you call it?  A dragon?”

“Dragons are a mythological creature from several of the galaxy's cultures,” he explained, with Shy nodding in agreement.  “It just so happens that I'm a bit of a mythology buff, and that dragon looks like how most myths I know say dragons look like.  So I guessed, and I was right.”

“Okay, but how have you learned about other culture's myths?  I mean, where did you find the spare time to do that?”

“I didn't,” Gore smirked.  “Part of initial training is learning about some of the galaxy's more prevalent cultures so that we can act in acceptable ways around them.  It's basically day one stuff.  Did you forget it all?”

“Um, yes,” Spy replied.  “I suppose I hadn't planned on running into mythological creatures in my lifetime.”

“You mean to say that my kind doesn't exist to yours?” the dragon asked from across the chamber.

“Yes, that's correct,” Gore responded.  “Hey, why don't you come over here so we can get acquainted?”  he suggested.

The dragon slowly made its way to where the five sitting clones were and rested itself on its belly in the large gap between Gore and Shy.

“I'll start,” said Gore.  “My name is Gore, and I'm a heavy infantry unit from the Grand Army of the Republic.”

“Name's Spy,” followed Spy, though he gave no further information. 

“Moon,” said Moon simply.

“I'm Viktor,” started Viktor.  “I'm the leader of the group.  The brown droid over there by our speeders is R8, and this one next to me is Shy.”  Shy extended a hand for a shake, which the dragon surprisingly returned.  “As the name implies, he's shy, and I doubt he'd've said anything to introduce himself.”

“Well, I welcome you all to my home.  Company is something hard to come by when you're a dragon like me, so it's nice that...interesting creatures like you have stopped by.  You've certainly livened my evening.”

“So, um, do you have a name?” asked Spy.

“Yes,” replied the dragon.  “I have two, in fact.  My first name in the language of dragons is Ku'Shaag'Worr.  It's a little unusual for those who aren't dragons to pronounce, so I go by the translated version of it.  It literally translates to 'of clouded vision', but I've further simplified it to Haze.  Haze the dragoness.”

“Simply starting with 'Haze' would've been fine; we don't need the language lesson,” complained Spy.

Haze narrowed her eyes at him.  “There's no need to be rude; considering that you're not from around here, I figured that you'd like to know some facts.”

“Actually, if you could do that for us, that'd be much appreciated,” requested Viktor.  “I can't give you all of the details, but we're on a mission and we need some rather specific information to maximize our chances of success.”

“Sadly, I know not of recent happenings, for I am isolated.  I can give you some information about how  pony civilization works and how dragon society operates, but not much else,” Haze replied apologetically.

Having finished his meal, Gore turned his full attention to Haze.  “Dragon society, huh?  I'd be interested in hearing about that, if you're willing to share.”

“Certainly,” Haze happily replied.  “What would you like to know?”

“What's with the gems and stuff?” Spy asked offhandedly, beginning to reach the end of his ration.

“Well,” Haze began, “a dragon's success in dragon society is based off of the amount of treasure that they accumulate, usually be raiding the villages of the various kingdoms here on Equus or by attacking other dragons.”

“Equus?” asked Viktor.

“The name of the planet.  Anyways, looting does more than simply improving a dragon's standing; a dragon's physical size and strength are directly related to their greed, which is directly related to the amount of things they've accumulated,” elaborated Haze.

Gore looked to the pile of things in the center of the room, then back to Haze.  “I'm going to assume that you're not...particularly high on the social ladder?”

Haze chuckled, confusing Gore.  “Yes, that's true.”  She laughed a little harder, confusing Gore and the others even more.  Isn't low standing a bad thing?

Noticing their confused glances, she collected herself.  “You know, it's surprising how easy to read you're feelings are, despite the fact that we're different species,” she noted before explaining her previous behavior.  “Right, well, where to begin?  Dragon society is brutal, basically a 'survival of the fittest' social system.  Most dragons are okay with that, but others have looked at pony society and have seen how much better off everydragon -excuse me, everypony- is with a less chaotic kind of social structure.  Ponies try to be good; they help others when they can, and they look down upon betrayal, theft, lying, greed, and other such evil practices that are common in dragon society.  Thus, some dragons, such as myself, have shunned our old ways.

“Our goal is to assimilate into pony civilization.  It seems like a difficult task, but it is possible; one dragon is known to have made his way into pony society.  However, except for that dragon, we have a bad reputation as thieves and destroyers, and thus, dragons are pushed away whenever we get near.  We dragons who have shunned the old ways are prime targets for other dragons looking for easy loot, so we have mostly resigned ourselves to isolated caves for protection.”

“Interesting,” Viktor thought aloud.  “Say Moon, if these ponies are trying to run a peace based government, would you suppose that that reduces the possibility of them allying with the Seps?”

“I feel that the Seps being more likely to have occupied the land is a more appropriate wording.”

“What are the 'Seps'?” asked Haze.

“They are our enemy,” responded Viktor.  “'Seps' is short for the Separatists, a political force that opposes the Republic.  They mean to unify all known systems under their banner, but they wish to do so by villainous means: cheating, lying, assassinating politicians who oppose them...It's a bit complex, for there's more than just the Seps and the Republic involved and I can't tell you everything.  I suppose the closest analogy would be that they are dragons who abide by the old way while the Republic are dragons who have shunned those ways...only, we're not dragons.”

“So it appears that we have similar ideals, then,” Haze said with a smile.  “Wonderful.  Maybe if you ever find yourselves around the ponies, you could put in a good word for me.”

“We're not going to be interacting with these ponies,” Moon said.  “I apologize for any issues it causes, but it cannot be helped.”

With a sigh, Haze said,  “I see.  But if your plans change, keep me in mind.”

“Of course,” said Gore, putting the issue to rest.

The clones and the dragon sat in awkward silence for a few seconds.  They were all finished eating, so Viktor replaced his helmet to check the time.  “Alright men, I want us moving out in fifteen hours.  Three hours, then we'll begin resting, two hour watch shifts, and that'll give us two hours to pack and make ready to leave.”

“Copy that,” said Spy.

“Roger,” acknowledged Gore.

“Yes, sir,” answered Moon.

“...” responded Shy.





With three hours until the clones decided they would start sleeping, Haze took the opportunity to observe how they acted on their own.  The one known as Shy sat alone with his helmet on as far away from anyone as possible.  Viktor was doing something with the stubby thing identified as R8; she knew not what, but whatever he was doing was causing sand to come out of R8.  Spy and Gore were sparring with each other near the speeders, while Moon watched from one of the vehicle's seats.

“Hey Vikky,” Spy said after easily pushing Gore to the ground.

Viktor groaned.  “What do you want, Spy?”

“You know how I said that I believed myself to have to most superior hand-to-hand combat skills out of the four of us?” he asked.

“Yeah...”

“Well, care to try to prove me wrong?”

Viktor looked up from his position on the ground to Spy.  “I'm getting the sand out of R8 right now, which is a bit more important than fighting you.  But once I finish, I'd gladly shut you up.”

Haze chortled.  “You humans are amusing; like a group of hatchlings, you are.”

Looking to Haze, Spy asked, “Where have I heard that broken grammar before?”

“General Yoda, you idiot,” answered Gore.

“Can you say something that doesn't question my intelligence?” Spy retorted.

“Um...no.”

Spy smirked.  “You just did.”

“...Shut up.”

Once again, Haze laughed.




After a few minutes, Viktor had finished dusting out R8 and had begun to spar with Spy.  Surprisingly, Spy was able to hold his own quite well against the commando; his unpredictability and unorthodox methods countered the commando's methodical and precise techniques.  Gore had let Viktor take on Spy alone after having been beaten terribly, and he sat himself next to Haze, who was watching the spar while munching on a large chunk of quartz.

However, the fight soon ended when Spy, slightly worn from sparring with Gore, was unable to avoid a roundhouse kick to the head.  Severely dazed and with a growing headache, he called it quits, but declared a rematch at a time at which both of them were equally ready.

With the fun at a close, each clone headed off to do their own thing.  Gore and Haze engaged in some small talk while Spy headed to a wall to get some rest early.  Viktor made his way to where Shy was and hadn't moved in well over an hour.

“Shy?” Viktor asked concernedly.  Shy stirred, but didn't look to up to him.  Viktor removed his helmet and sat down next to Shy.  “Shy, you alright?”  The clone shrugged slightly, continuing to stare at the ground a few feet in front of him.  “What're you doing under that helmet?” Viktor finally asked.

“Research,” Shy answered, his voice coming out quiet and raspy from a lack of use and probably hydration.

“Researching what, exactly?”

Shy flinched; whatever he was doing, he didn't want to share.  However, he succumbed to his superior, and Shy displayed the item of his research on the floor in front of him via his science module.

It was one of the pictures that they had scanned from Appleloosa.  The projection was in full color, and it was obviously a family photo, featuring three ponies on it.  One had a green coat and a long straight white mane, and on its flank was an image of a mandolin.  Opposite that one was a pale blue pony with a dark short dark blue mane.  This one had a horn and an image of a guitar on its flank.  In between the two was a small pony, likely a child of the two, that was mint green and had a medium length teal mane with a white stripe on the side.  This one had a short horn and golden eyes.

Some words were written on the bottom of the image, specifically under each of the ponies.  Under the green hornless one read 'Mandy Heartstrings'.  Under the pale blue one read 'Les Paul Heartstrings', and under the mint green one were the words 'Lyra Heartstrings'.

“Something about this image sticks out to you, Shy,” observed Viktor.

“It, um, shows family dynamic in pony society...”

Viktor looked at Shy.  “There's more to it than that.  I'm not going to press it now, but I will want an explanation soon; about this and the magna guard.”

“Yes, sir.”

With nothing more to say, Viktor stood up and headed towards Haze, ready to get some information from her.  Now alone, Shy turned off the projection.  His mind went numb as unpleasant memories slowly poured into his mind, memories of a past filled with loss and despair.  And through the flood of recollections, one word permeated them: Lyra.




It was late; really late.  Gore's shift had hardly begun, and there were only six hours until Victor squad resumed their journey.  He was supposed to be watching the entrance for any droids who may wander in, but he wound himself completely distracted by the dragon who was awake with him.

She was sitting next to her small pile of treasures, staring at them distantly, though every once in a while she'd shake her head to snap back to reality.  And Gore couldn't help but stare at her as often as he could.  Noises from outside only captured Gore's attention for a second or two before he'd dismiss it and revert to admiring the dragon.

Sometimes, before zoning out again, she would catch Gore staring at her with admiration in his uncovered eyes.  She was both discomforted yet flattered that he couldn't keep his eyes off her.  After almost half an hour of being watched, however, she decided it was time to tease him about it.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked playfully, unfurling her wings and batting her eyes.

“I can't deny that you are much more beautiful and gracious than the myths said you'd be,” he admitted, fully serious.

Detecting no hint of sarcasm, Haze blushed slightly.  “Um, I'm really nothing special,” she said, unsure of how she felt of this revelation.

Gore picked up on her discomfort, and after replaying the past few seconds in his mind, he found his error.  “I'm sorry.  I probably should have used 'dragons' in place of 'you' in my last remark.  Though, to be fair, since you're the first dragon I've met, you set the standard, and it's my personal opinion that that standard would be hard to beat.  Gold can be a nice color.”

Haze blushed harder.

“Especially with a little red.”

The dragon's blush instantly disappeared.  “Oh, you tease!” she chuckled heartily, and Gore joined in shortly after.  After their fit, Gore continued.  “I was teasing about the red part, but I was completely serious about what I said before.  You're probably the most glorious thing I've laid eyes on.  And one of the kindest begins I've met as well.  It's a shame that these ponies judge you based on stereotypes and not on who you are as a pers -er, dragon.”

Haze sighed.  “I would agree with that, but there's no need for you to worry about me.  We hardly know each other; my concerns should not be yours.”

“And with that, I'd have to disagree,” Gore said.  Haze looked up to him as he completely disregarded his watch duties and walked over to where Haze was sitting.  “The Republic's goal is to unify all known systems so as to resolve all issues with diplomacy.  And while that's not feasible yet, they instill the beliefs that all sentient beings are equal and that all have a chance at redemption into all of its soldiers.  

“However, despite that, there are some very harsh stereotypes that are placed on clones like me, the worst of them being that we're nothing more than fleshy droids, and are expendable as such.  Even amongst some of the leading members of the Republic, this stereotype prevails.  It's wrong that we can be classified in such a manner and furthermore treated in a certain way based on that stereotype alone as opposed to who we are as a person...or dragon.

“I...I suppose I should get to the point.  My purpose is to fix wrongs such as those being forced upon you.  I have to put my mission first, but should the opportunity arise, I'll try my best to get you seen as something beyond the stereotype.”

Haze looked to Gore with misty eyes.  “You...you'd do that?  For a dragon that you hardly know?”

“I'd do it for anyone being treated unjustly except for Spy, especially for a dragon like you; it's the least I could do to thank you for your gracious hospitality.”  He then gave Haze a light punch on the shoulder.  With a chuckle, he said, “Now, toughen up.  Dragons aren't supposed to cry.”

She wiped her eyes dry.  “Ugh, stop teasing,” she teased, pushing Gore over and chuckling as well.




Morning broke as Shy finished off his shift, the final one before Victor squad began packing.  He had spent his shift in the mouth of the cave, just far enough back so that he couldn't be seen by any prying eyes outside.  But, with his job complete, it was time for the squad to get moving.

He entered the cavern where the rest of the squad was sound asleep on the hard rock surface.  The second task for him was to wake his team, so he headed to the nearest clone to do so.

Incidentally, the nearest clone was Spy, the heaviest sleeper of all of them.  Shy's quiet voice was easily ignored by the unconscious Spy, and shaking him was ineffective as well.

“Good morning,” he heard Haze say from behind him as she woke.  He could hear several bones pop as she stretched, and she let herself rumble in content.

The dragon glanced over to Shy, who was still struggling to wake Spy.  She came to Shy's side to watch him.  Shy persisted for a couple of minutes before Haze felt the obligation to help.

“May I?” she asked, to which Shy vigorously nodded yes.  “You may want to cover your ears,” she warned.  He cut the input volume of his helmet to very low as Haze drew a large breath, releasing a deafening roar that, when further amplified by the resonant nature of the chamber, immediately brought the four sleeping clones to their feet.  She smiled bashfully as the four clones gave her irritated looks.  “I was only helping Shy wake you,” she defended, backing a couple of steps.

Suddenly, Spy burst out into laughter.  “Shy, you're a genius.  Getting a dragon wake us up for you?  Never saw that coming.  I never thought you'd have the balls to do something like that.  Kudos to you.”

No one else said anything as Spy's laughter died down to awkward 'he he's.  He coughed to signify that he had finished, at which point Viktor resumed talking.  “Right.  Shy, how bright out was it?”

“Pretty bright, but it's still early morning.  It's best to leave sooner rather than later.  If we leave in half an hour, we should be able to make it to the bog by nightfall with time enough to prepare camp suited for that environment.”

“Sorry, Haze, but I'd have to agree with him,” Viktor said to the dragon.  “While I'd like to stay longer and hear more of what you have to say, we've got priorities and orders.”

“I understand,” she said.  “I'll not bother you while you prepare, but let me know when you're about to leave.  I'd like to say good-bye to each of you personally.”

Viktor nodded.  “Will do.  Victor squad, pack up and be ready for departure as soon as possible.”




“Haze, we're ready to leave.  Please keep it brief, we've got to go soon.”

“I will, I will,” she said, rolling he eyes.  She extended a claw towards the commando, and they engaged in a firm handshake.  “I wish you the best of fortunes on your mission.  You five seem adept enough to get any job done.”

“Thank you, ma'am.”

Making her way to Moon, who sat in the side car of one the speeders, she shook his uninjured arm.  “I wish you luck as well, and I hope that your injury recovers in a timely manner.”

“Thank you, ma'am.”

Spy was next in line.  Once again, she offered her hand for a shake, and the clone obliged.  “I wish you success; enjoy life, and don't take everything too seriously.”

“You know me too well.”

Next was Shy.  Her expression was sad when she looked to him, but nevertheless, the offered her claw with the same enthusiasm as the others.  “It's a shame that we were not able to get better acquainted, but please, try to be happy.”  Shy gave no response, verbal or nonverbal.

Finally, she reached Gore.  Unlike the others, Gore's helmet was off and he was giving Haze a warm smile.  She raised her claw a few inches, then hesitated for a second before deciding to go straight to a hug.  She lunged towards Gore, wrapping her front legs around his torso and her head on his shoulder.

Being a clone, he didn't know quite how to respond.  At first, he kept his arms up from the initial response of trying to pull away, but his arms slowly found their way around Haze's neck, though the contact was awkward and his eyes jumped around, clearly showing his discomfort.

“Gore, you're the kindest individual I've met in many many years,” she started.

“Gore?  Kind?  What's I miss last night?” Spy whispered to Viktor.

“Be safe, maintain your integrity, and don't forget me,” she continued.  Haze let go of Gore and looked up to him.  “There is something I'd like to give you, if you'd have it.”

“Sure.”

Haze lifted a wing and, using her long tail, fetched a triangular shaped gem with a golden sheen.  She placed the small gem in Gore's open palm, where he admired it for a few seconds.  “I hope you still think gold can be a nice color.”

He put the gem on his chest atop his decals.  Gore strained to see it for a few seconds, but once he caught a glimpse of it, he smiled and said, “Especially with a little red.”




There was a final exchange of thanks and farewells, and then the clones mounted their speeders and made for north.
> Chapter 9: Confessions
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~~Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, 2 days and 13 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~




After a very long and unusually active day, one would find simply laying back and staring into the expansive night sky to be a pleasantly relaxing and unwinding endeavor.  Such was the state of Princess Luna, who found it fit to simply sit on the balcony of the tall spire that housed her room and admire her work.

Once the party had finished, the Princesses had decided to demonstrate a bit of their culture to Grievous by having Luna bring forth the night in the castle courtyard with him observing.  The coming of the night was an act that Luna still felt was under appreciated throughout Equestria, but to her surprise, their alien guest had gained an interest in it.  Although, in a Twilightesque bout of scientific mindedness, he had responded to the event by saying something along the lines of, “This explains the planet's irregular rotation,” so she doubted that he had any personal attachments to the night.

That had been nearly an hour ago, and after it had been finished, the general had headed off in the direction of the gardens for an unspecified reason, followed soon after by Shining Armor.  From her perspective atop the gilded spire, Luna could see the entire expanse of the gardens, and so decided to see what Grievous was up to using the telescope that she had on her balcony at all times.

She stood and stretched before taking the two-step trip to the telescope's eyepiece.  Peering through, she made a survey of the gardens, quickly finding Grievous standing with his back towards her near a large, flat, and open patch of grass.  The general was not alone, however.  Before him was another one of his shuttles, which must have landed before she had gotten to her balcony.  It was currently having its cargo consisting of a rack of folded battle droids unloaded.  Shining Armor stood adjacent to him, holding a map with his magical grip while the two of them studied it.

The Princess was far to distant to tell specifically what was happening or even read the map, but she could infer that they were making plans of some sort.  But, with Shining Armor there to monitor their guest, she felt that she had no reason to worry about any potential devious plots.  So why did she?

Throughout his stay, Grievous had been aggressive, violent, and disrespectful to everypony he'd interacted with.  The story about his past was a sad one indeed, but Luna didn't feel like the entire truth had been given, nor did she feel that Dooku had been entirely honest with his reasons for wanting to protect them.  Unlike her sister, she didn't trust them.

Something moving in the sky caught her attention, and she turned her instrument to observe it.  It was yet another one of Grievous's shuttles.

Suddenly, a large yellow-green circular object with a smaller red circle in its center covered the entirety of Luna's vision.  She yelped and stumbled back a couple of steps, revealing the object to be Discord, whose body was dangling off of the balcony railing, and who was immaturely looking through the telescope's wrong end.

Realizing this, she angrily stepped forward and turned the lens away from Discord's eye.

“I'm sorry; did I disturb you?” he asked innocently.

“Thou knowst that your antics are not appreciated with us,” she replied, her eyes furrowed in irritation.

“Ah-ah; modern Equuish, please,” he smirked.

“Buck off.”

Discord reeled back, letting go of the railing, allowing his wings to take over supporting him.  Feigning insult, he said, “Well that was a little harsh, Princess.  I didn't mean that modern.  I meant you no harm, anyhow; I am reformed, after all.”

“And all the more bothersome because of it, seeing as we cannot turn you back to stone without good reason.”

Luna turned away from him, and he took the opportunity to place himself on the balcony with her, sitting cross-legged in the corner.  “I'd have never thought you'd hate me so much, dear Luna, seeing as you are my favorite between you and your sister.”

“I'm you favorite?” she asked, turning to him with a curious expression.  This expression instantly turned to unsuppressed anger, an unexpected turn that left even Discord surprised.  “If We're thoust favorite, then why would thou corrupt our minds to make us into the nightmare that betrayed our sister and all of Equestria, threatening to plunge it into eternal darkness and despair, furthermore forcing our beloved sister to banish us upon the moon for a century?  Thou hast ruined our image and trust with our subjects, our sister, and even ourselves, yet you insist on declaring us thoust most preferred!?”

“Relax, Luna,” he said casually.  “It was nothing more than...light teasing amongst friends.”  Luna's face contorted in rage.  “But this isn't what I visited you for.  I came to talk.”

“We've nothing to discuss,” she huffed, turning away from him again, still evidently furious.  It took all her self-control to not impale the draconequus with her horn right there.

“I believe we do,” Discord replied, spawning a dark blue pillow next to him, beckoning Luna to sit.

“And what would that be?” she inquired, though she refused to face him.

“Oh, just someone we know that we don't really know.”

“Grievous?”

“How astute.”

Luna once again turned back to Discord.  Although she was still furious at Discord, she was also curious to hear what insights the draconequus had about their guest.  As such, she trotted over to where he was and plopped her rump on the amazingly soft pillow that he had laid out for her.  “What about him?” she asked.

“During my time encased in that horrid stone prison,” Discord started, “I spent my time observing events beyond our little world.  Obviously, being trapped in stone, I was unable to interact with what I saw, but nonetheless, I enjoyed some of the bouts of chaos I witnessed.”

“And this has to do with Grievous...how?” Luna impatiently questioned.

“During the last few years of my imprisonment, I happened upon a war torn galaxy.  Now, this galaxy had many intriguing individuals, including one Qymaen Jai Sheelal.”

“That is Grievous's old name, is it not?”

“Another astute acknowledgment, my dear Luna.  Now, this fellow was a curious one; very entertaining to follow.  I tell you, his past is as distraught as he said it was when he first came here.”

Luna glared at Discord.  “How dost thou -how do you know what he said when you weren't there?”

“If I told you, that'd spoil the fun.  Now, back to my story: while I hadn't been accompanying our friend Grievous during his entire history, I know enough about him to know that I don't know how smart your accord with him is.  From what I've observed, he has been honest about his past, but his behaviors here differ greatly from his behaviors in his home galaxy.  Simply put; I don't trust him entirely.”

Luna looked deep in thought, and she stayed that way for several minutes before asking Discord, “And I don't trust you entirely.  Why tell me this?”

“Because I know you have your doubts about him as well, and I want you to know that you're not the only one.”

“How are you aware of what I think?” she suddenly asked angrily.

“Oh, Luna, you have no idea how fun it is to romp around in your mind when I'm bored.”

At this, Luna leapt to her hooves and pointed her horn at Discord threateningly.  “You...you stay out of my head!  I'll not have you use me as a tool to threaten Equestria again!  Nor will I allow you to drive a wedge between my sister and myself again with your manipulative talk!”

“Luna, you misinterpret my intentions,” Discord said with a sigh, though he was sincere with what he had said.

“I doubt you,” she affirmed.  “You would use any discrepancies between my sister's judgment and my own to have us tear each other down, only to have you take our place.  I will not allow a repeat of Nightmare Moon.”

Discord stood to his full height, towering over the comparatively short pony princess.  “This is not a ruse, and I do not intend on betraying either you or Celestia,” he adamantly defended.  “Believe it or not, for reasons that are my own, I genuinely care for the well being of Equestria.  I have suspicions that Grievous doesn't.  Are you really going to trust Grievous, who you've known for all of two days, more than me, your century old friend?”

“You are not my friend,” she spat.  “And Grievous is indefinitely more trustworthy than you are.  Now, begone, demon, before I charge you of treason.”

Now agitated, Discord crossed his arms and looked to Luna.  “It is apparent that my input in the situation is not welcome...just as I expected.”  He leaned down to look straight into her eyes.  “It is also apparent that any involvement on my part is unwelcome.  I'll oblige, but if our suspicions are correct, and Grievous does leave Equestria in smoke, it will be your situation to handle.”

“I assure you,” she began, “that Grievous is here to benefit us, not destroy us.  I will trust Celestia's judgment with him.”

“Going back on your instincts?” Discord said as he straightened himself.  “I know you well enough to know that you're stubborn with your views.  Good night, Princess.”  With a flash, he was gone, and with his departure, Luna felt stresses that she didn't even know she had fade to nothingness.

She felt proud.  She had successfully thwarted a suspected attempt by Discord to usurp the crown.  And in modern Equuish, too.


~~~Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, 2 days and 15 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~




Behind him, the two massive wooden doors that led to the gardens slammed shut as he made his way in.  It had been a very long time since Grievous felt genuinely tired, but this day had been perfect enough to put an end to that.  Yet, before he could rest, he still had one more task to complete: report to Dooku.

He marched through the castle's massive hallways, diligently making his way towards his new room; or at least he hoped he was.  The castle's layout was still largely unknown to him, and the only paths he had truly learned were those from his old room to the throne room and from the throne room to the gardens.  Fortunately for him, he made his way to the wing that held his room with little trouble.

This was when he forgot where to go.  Six short halls spanned out of the main one that Grievous stood in, each one leading to a staircase that, in turn, led to a room.  He knew one of them was his, but he just couldn't remember which one.  Two of them were out of the question immediately, however; the one to his right was evidently Celestia's due to the sun banner draped near it while the left one was evidently Luna's due to the moon banner.

A light trotting sounded behind him, and Grievous turned to see who was approaching him.  Slightly to his surprise, it was Celestia.

“I thought you'd have retired to you bed by now,” he noted.  Celestia's lack of any formal wear indicated that she has at least tried.

She shrugged a little; as much as possible while keeping her bare hooves on the ground.  “I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd take a short walk to clear my head.  Looks like I returned in time, too; you seem lost.”

“My memory seems to have failed me,” he replied.

Celestia now stood next to Grievous.  “Hm...I suppose I should apologize for not letting you get used to the castle before moving you.”

“Just point me in the right direction and this'll be behind us,” Grievous requested.

“Of course,” Celestia complied, pointing to one of the hallways.  “Your room is just up there.”  She then turned and daintily made her way down the hallway marked by the sun banner.  “Good night!” she offered.

“Yes, good night,” Grievous grumbled almost inaudibly, then headed up the stairs to his own room.




“Grievous, your report's been delayed.  There better be good reason for this,” chastised the small image of Count Dooku.

“There is, my lord,” he said, standing in his typical posture, lit only by the eerie blue light of the hologram before him.  “I've made some great improvements that you'll be glad to hear,” Grievous said while rising from his half-bow stance.

“Well, go on.  I've been kept waiting long enough.”

Grievous stood to his full height and looked down to the holovid that was resting on his bed.  “My lord, my droids and I have already achieved significant standing; militarily, socially, and politically.  An invasion occurred this morning and afternoon, led by one of the planet's indigenous species called changelings.  The Princess' Royal Guard was proven incapable of withstanding the invasion, but my droids proved to be exceptionally superior to these changelings.  The ponies regarded changelings as a major threat, and with them no longer in existence, it is safe to assume that our droids are capable of overpowering most any opposing force born of this world.”

“That is good news indeed, general, but for your own sake, tell me that you have more to share,” Dooku warned.

Shrugging off the threat, Grievous continued.  “As far as I can tell, the Princesses, or at least Celestia, regard us as heroes.  She's allowed me to retain control of my droids, but there are still numerous issues that I face.”

“And those issues would be...?”

“The first one is on your part, my lord,” he scolded, lowering his faceplate to mere inches from the hologram.  “You've sent me here to do...something, yet you've failed to tell me exactly what that something is.  I need to know what our goals are before I can continue, else I risk ruining your precious plans.”

Dooku appeared contemplative.  “Grievous,” he said after a few seconds, “it appears that you have done well by Celestia's standards, thus putting my plans further into motion.  I will share my goals with you once you've listed your remaining problems.”

“The next issue is one I've repeatedly told you of, yet you've failed to fix.  All you give me to use are battle droids!” he yelled, beginning to pace.  “They're incompetent pawns; they almost always screw something up!”  His pacing had left him turned away from the small hologram.  Taking a deep breath, Grievous calmed himself and turned his head towards the hologram.  He resumed in a near whisper.  “What I need are real soldiers; soldiers of flesh and blood who are capable of outstanding thinking and adaptation; soldiers like the Isvoshra.”

“It's fortunate that Equestria has its own military, then,” mused Dooku.  “They may be weak, but there are certain advantages that they have over our droids.  Use them, and fix their weaknesses.  Break them if need be.”

“This leads to the next obstacle.”  Grievous returned to his original position before Dooku.  “Their Captain, Shining Armor, is not on agreeable terms with us.  Before I came in to report, I was overseeing the deployment of several groups of droids and tanks throughout the country.  I've sent a detachment of droids and one AAT to each of Equestria's major population centers, excluding Canterlot, which isn't ideal for tanks anyways.  However, he doesn't like that this has been done.  He sees it as an act of military occupation, and is fearful of violent consequences.”

“Grievous, such deployments should not have been necessary.  Something went wrong.”

“Indeed they did, my lord.  You stupid droids were unable to prevent some clones from reaching the surface.  I don't know their numbers, but I've already lost a shuttle, one search party, and the crews from at least three different droch vessels.  I would estimate their numbers around forty.”

“You cannot blame every issue on the droids.  They follow your orders to the letter.  It is more likely that the clones breached you due to an oversight on your part.”

“Regardless, my lord, Shining Armor is opposed to the movement of our troops.  He can do nothing to physically stop us, but we could be compromised if he voices his concerns to the Princesses.”

Dooku allowed himself a minute to mull over the information that was presented.  “Do you still have a set of confiscated clone armor from the Valiance?” he asked.

“I do, but I don't see how it would be useful.”

“Think creatively, general.  That armor provides us the means to tackle two objectives at once: degrading the Princess' image of the Republic further, and removing Shining Armor as an obstacle.”

“Have a droid pose as a clone and assassinate him?” Grievous inquired.

A sinister grin spread along Dooku's face.  “Indeed.”  In an instant, his expression reverted to its unreadable state.  “Details regarding that must wait, however, as that is a new development.  Is there anything else you wish to rant about?”

“Nothing else of immediate concern, my lord.”

“If there is nothing else, then it is time to tell you why you are here.  Quite simply, I believe the Princesses Celestia and Luna are very powerful Force users, and thus it is imperative that they are sided with us and not the Republic.  Additionally, I believe that the entire system in saturated in the presence of the Force.  If we were to utilize every Force-sensitive resource on that planet, we would no doubt control the means to win the war.”

“They don't have the Force here; they use some other power that they call magic,” countered Grievous.

“What they call it is irrelevant, the fact remains that it is a manifestation of the Force.  Powerful at that; tell me, what's have you seen 'magic' do so far?”

“I've seen telekinesis, teleportation, shape shifting, its use as a projectile, and the rotating of the planet.  Additionally, they claim to have several powerful magical artifacts known as the Elements of Harmony.”

“Telekinesis is a basic feat by way of the Force, but none in our galaxy have been able to teleport themselves or shape shift.  The manipulation of matter on the scale required to do that is nigh unreachable for us here.  As for moving the planet?  Not even master Yoda would be able to do that.  Surely you are seeing their value as allies?”

“I am,” answered Grievous.  “Do these Elements of Harmony have any merit?”

“It is likely that they are a Force-sensitive artifact, much like the starforge from our own galaxy.  However, this is no longer relevant, as you have your mission.”

“I understand, my lord.  One more question, if you'll permit it.”

“Ask it, then.”

“Why didn't you come here yourself to handle the diplomacy?”

“That is a sensitive issue that a non-Force wielder like you would likely not understand.  But you're smart, so I'll attempt to explain anyways.  To put it simply, the Force is so concentrated there that any Force-sensitive being from our galaxy would suffer terrible pain, among other things,” explained Dooku.

“What proof of this do you have?”

“My master has informed me of this.  He managed to obtain one of the Republic's security tapes; a top secret one from the Valiance.  The tape in question was a conversation between the Jedi Poh Drüne and one of his clones.  In the tape, he describes having such feelings.”

“That would explain why he was sedated when I killed him...” mused Grievous.  “However, that concludes my report.  Is there anything else you require of me?”

“There is nothing else.  Do what you must.  Remember, Celestia either chooses to side with us, or she is removed before she can make the wrong choice.  Do not report again until there is an important update.”  With those parting words, the hologram vanished, plunging the room into complete darkness.

After placing the holovid back on his waist, Grievous stepped over to the long side of his new bed and sat.  For several minutes he sat there reflecting back on the conversation he had just had.  Celestia would back a powerful ally indeed, he finally concluded.  It'd be a shame to see her fall.

The day had been long and stressful, so Grievous lay himself across the mattress.  It was sized for him and the frame held.  As comfortable as he could get, Grievous let himself fall into a restful and dreamless sleep for the first time in a very long time.


~~~San Palomino Desert, Equestria, 3 days, 4 hours and 30 minutes after the Ambush at Equus~~~




Once again Victor squad found themselves amidst a calm sea of golden sand.  The near midday sun beat down relentlessly on the small group as they made their way north, hoping to run into Ghastly Gorge or some other landmark that was present on the map.

Ever since their departure from Haze's residence a couple of hours ago, silence had pervaded them, broken only by the rumbling of their speeders' engines.  As before, Viktor drove in the lead with Moon in his sidecar while Spy piloted the other, Gore in the sidecar and Shy mounted awkwardly on the beams attaching it to the speeder's frame.  R8 flew between them.  Their small crate of ordinance rested with Shy while the other larger crate of their precious few rations stayed bound to Viktor's vehicle.

“Ugh, can we have breakfast now?  It's been, like, eighteen hours since we've eaten last,” Spy said, finally breaking their silence.

“Always thinking with you're stomach, aren't you?” Gore remarked rhetorically.

“Spy, we can't quite afford to have breakfast anymore,” replied Viktor.  “We've very few rations left, and we can't risk staying put for too long.  Just long enough for R8 to recover when he needs it, no longer; at least, until we get the cover of night.”

“Well, that blows,” muttered Spy, effectively ending that argument.  Of course, he couldn't help himself from starting another.  “You know, Gore, maybe you should let the egghead here ride the sidecar for once.  He can't be comfortable back there, and you've rode it the entire time.”

Shy answered without turning to face him.  “No, it's really fine; I don't mean to impose.”  He was left unheard.

“Hey, he basically claimed that spot himself,” Gore defended.  “I'd be willing to relinquish this seat, but he's insistent on sitting there with my chain gun.  Something about knowing the angle at which to point it so that the repulsorlift on it will counterbalance his weight, or something like that.”

“Sounds like a bunch of bantha dung if you ask me.  I think you're just greedily taking that seat for yourself, and-”

“You've no right to call me greedy.  As far as I remember, I don't even recall you offering to let Shy drive.  If you're concerned about his comfort, why not let him take your seat?  Hypocrite.”

“Hey!” Spy yelled, offended.  “Don't call me things I don't know the meaning of!”

“How could you not know what hypocrite means?  You're the master of hypocrisy!” Gore yelled in response, flabbergasted.  “You're more brainless than I thought.”

“I make up for it with bigger balls,” Spy countered casually.

Gore was irritated.  “You claim to have balls, yet you use a skimpy DC-15s.  Real men use chain guns.”

“Sure they do, but only if they're real men that are compensating for something.”

“Why you little son of a...!”




There they were, at another pointless argument...again.  Honestly, how had Victor squad gotten anything done so far?

“I would imagine that you find the behavior of Gore and Spy to be disappointing at times, Viktor,” commented Moon.

“It's obnoxious, but manageable.  It'd be nice if Spy was a little less sarcastic and provocative, and it'd be nice if Gore was a little less irritable, but their absurd interactions are still inexplicably charming,” he replied.

“Charming?  You find such dysfunctionality...charming?” asked a bewildered Moon.  “You do know that their behavior is...wrong.  Clones are not supposed to be so aggressive towards each other over menial things like their preferred weapon.  They seem like they can be counterproductive and potentially compromising.”

“What do you have against them, Moon?  Despite their differences, they work together efficiently, from what I've seen.  As long as they get the job done, I could care less how they behave in their spare time...right, so maybe I do care about what they do, but so long as they're not doing stupid things, I'm cool with them.”

“We obviously have different views on what constitutes 'stupid',” muttered Moon.

Viktor looked to Moon.  “That's fine by me.  We may be clones, but we are nonetheless independent beings with our own thoughts and beliefs.”

“Quite the profound view...for a clone.”

At that, Viktor cocked his head to the side confusedly.  “I'm not sure why you're...thinking negatively about clones, considering you are one.  And if it's any consolation, commandos like myself are trained to think more freely that standard clones.  I know; I was once standard myself.”

Looking ahead, Viktor swerved around a decent sized boulder that happened to be in his way.  First impressive geological formation in a while...maybe we're getting somewhere?  When he reverted his attention to Moon, he found him chuckling.

“You are aware that that's one of the reasons standard clones like me have some disdain for commandos, right?”

“I know,” Viktor replied honestly.  “And conversely, commandos have some disdain towards standards due to their lack of higher thinking and diversity...at least, pure-bred commandos do.  During commando training and on my first deployment as a commando on Christophsis, my squad regarded me as inferior to them because I was not fully in the commando mindset.”

“And look what happened; they all die and you get deployed on some random extragalactic planet doing recon with some inferior clones.”

“Moon, I don't want you considering yourself or any member of my squad 'inferior', especially compared to me.  I'm not perfect, and my record probably has more blemishes that anyone else here anyways.  By way of bookkeeping, I'm the most inferior, and I wouldn't have it any other way.”

Moon shook his head and sighed.  “I don't think anyone here is inferior...I know it.  And-”

“That was an order, Moon!”

The sudden rise in volume stunned the Sergeant for a second.  “I-uh...yes, sir.  Permission to continue, sir?”

“Permission granted.”

He cleared his throat before continuing.  “As I was about to say, you'd be surprised to hear about the service record of one of your men here.”

Viktor gave no inclination of interest.

“Or lack thereof.”

“'Lack thereof'?” Viktor repeated.  He turned to Moon.  “What do you mean by that?”

“I can't tell you that, sir, nor can I tell you who the soldier in question is; those are private and classified details, and you knowing them will not assist you in completing your assignment.  I also have directives to stop you should you attempt to gain this information from the subject without his consent.”

“I'm sure it'll come up in conversation later,” Viktor grunted, returning his focus to not crashing into the vast nothing before him.

“I'm certain it won't.”

The commando gave no response, and the two fell into an awkward silence.  As a whole, though, the group was not silent, as Spy and Gore continued to argue, the topic somehow having gone to which Jedi general was the manliest.  Courtesy of Spy, the argument was in favor of Ahsoka Tano.




Grass was a welcome sight.  After nearly three days stuck in the dreary land of browns and tans, the green was a welcome oasis of color.

“Well, that's a nice change,” Spy remarked.

“Pleasantries will have to wait, Spy,” Viktor retorted, slowing his speeder down while Spy followed suit.  “Now that we have gotten out of the desert, we should take the opportunity to find about where we are and get a heading.”

No one complained, and the tiny convoy halted.  “Might as well let R8 take a few minutes to cool off anyways,” he muttered to himself before addressing his squad.  “Alright, Shy, you study the map and tell us which way to go.  Moon and Gore will stay here and keep watch for Seps.  Spy, you're with me in checking the ground for anything that may be of interest.  We'll stay within range of short-range radio.  Understood?”

“Got it,” they all said in their own way.  Viktor and Spy left, leaving Gore and Moon to sit there in silence while Shy toiled with his task.  For several minutes, Gore watched as Shy used the hard copy of the map that they had, actually writing on it and doing what seemed to be far more that simply trying to locate them.  Finally, Gore's curiosity finally got the best of him, and he approached Shy.

“Gore, you're supposed to be watching for Seps, not pestering Shy,” Moon complained.

Gore shrugged him off.  “We don't need two sets of eyes for that; we're such a small group.”  He now stood behind Shy and looked down at the map that was riddled with numbers and equations.  “But Shy here is supposed to be finding out where we are, not doing...this math stuff.”

“I'm doing my task,” Shy defended, looking to Gore, with an offended tone.  “I've been keeping careful track of all of our migrations.  Everything from our speeds, times, travel durations, and direction I've been keeping tabs on.  And now I'm using that data to not only try to pinpoint our location, but to see if I can make this map more systematic.”

“Oh,” said Gore awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to that.  “Well, uh, sorry for accusing you of goofing off, there.  You're no Spy, I guess, so I'll just...leave you alone."  And so he did.  He went back to where Moon was a few paces away and gave him a hand signal indicating the wish to talk over a private channel, to which Moon complied.

“What is it?” Moon asked irritatedly.

“Shy's awfully smart and meticulous, isn't he?” Gore asked rhetorically.  “It's no wonder why Shy has been Viktor's most trusted man so far, but somehow, he seems a little too overqualified for something as menial as recon.”

“Your point?  Spit it out; we've got a job we're supposed to be doing.”

“Shy's just a Corporal.  That's no commanding position, that's just combat prestige.  But yet, he thinks beyond the capacity of what he should be thinking.  He's just a run-of-the-mill standard sharpshooter, but he's acting, in the professional way, much like, nay, beyond Viktor.”

“I don't quite follow,” replied Moon.  He immediately face palmed after saying that, as he dragged on the conversation longer than necessary.

Gore, meanwhile, hesitated as he tried to form his thoughts into words.  “Well, let me give you an example of what I mean.  When we first got here and checked out that Appleloosa place, it was Shy who formulated the proceedings.  And you were there when Shy unveiled the plan of action that was abandoned yesterday, then gave us a new plan of attack.  It's almost as if leadership of this mission has slowly gone to Shy.  Now that I think of it, the dynamic between Shy and Viktor have seemed to have comically switched: Viktor is the commando who's taking orders from a standard while Shy is the standard giving orders to the commando.”

“I'm sure there's a...good explanation for that,” Moon muttered.  “You're point is noted, but irrelevant.  Now, you had a job you were assigned by your Captain, I suggest you do them.”  Gore started to speak, but he was cut off by Moon before a complete word came out.  “That's an order by both your superiors.”

“Yer, Sergeant,” grumbled Gore as he returned to his duties.




Their brief stop, over the course of an hour, soon became an hour long stop.  Much to Viktor's annoyance, Shy was the one holding the group back this time, refusing to oblige his commands that they were to get moving.  But finally, at the end of that hour, Shy had claimed his work finished and now approached Viktor with it.”

“You know I respect you, Shy,” Viktor started as the timid clone approached him, “but my orders take precedence over the musings of any one of us here.”

“I know, sir, and I apologize, but I think you'll like what I was able to figure out.”

“If at the very least you know where we are and where we're going to go next, I'll at least be satisfied.”

“Right.  Well, throughout our travels since coming here, I've been monitoring every important statistical detail about them, hoping to sometime have enough time to systematize the map.  And I did.  I'll not bore you with the details, but I was able to obtain a rough grid for the area shown on the map.  The map was surprisingly close to scale; it's fairly accurate, and now we have some sort of coordinate system to go off of.  I've also been able to place a couple of key locations down, namely our original LZ and Haze's cave.”

Viktor sighed.  “Shy, this is impressive and all, but we've got to go soon, so just tell me where we are and what direction we go in now.”

“Yes, sir,” said Shy.  “So we're basically directly south of Ghastly Gorge; lucky us.  So all we need to do is follow the gorge -once we reach it- north till we intersect this road that leads to Applewood.  We cross that road and follow the trees on the opposite side of the road to some tracks, which we'll cross and then be in Froggy Bottom bog.”

“Very good,” Viktor complimented.  He turned to his squad mates.  “Off your shebs, everyone, we're moving out.”

With that, the group got back into their original formation.  “We didn't even get to eat,” Spy murmured to himself, and then they were off.




If Viktor had gotten any sense of time since landing, he would estimate the time to be a few hours into the afternoon; perhaps around four o'clock by the standard twenty-four hour clock.  The sun was no longer at its climax, and the flat grasslands around them started gaining a more yellowish hue.  Presumably, Ghastly Gorge was behaving the same way, but seeing as it wasn't anywhere in their sight like it was supposed to be at this point, it was hard to tell.

Something had gone wrong, either in their travel, Shy's calculations, or with the map itself, but they certainly weren't where they wanted to be.  Shy had taken Gore's spot in the sidecar so that he could recheck his work, but that had been several minutes ago, and Viktor feared that they may be lost.

The ground became progressively less flat, beginning with depressions that morphed into fully mature hills.  In the far distance ahead of them was a hill that rivaled any they had seen since leaving the desert.  It was more of a ridge, really, spanning across the entirety of the horizon in front of them.  Some boulders dotted its crest, and as they got closer, they saw other large rocks resting on the hill's side, and its true size became apparent.

It inclined up no less that thirty feet at a shallow angle, nearing forty five degrees about halfway before reaching its parabolic top.  They reduced their speed so as to not crash unnecessarily.  The engines of their vehicles quieted as a result, and Viktor could swear that he heard light marching.  That's odd.  The group passed over the crest, unveiling a relatively steep sixty-foot decline and the reason for the sounds Viktor heard: a detachment of droids and an AAT.

Viktor and Spy turned their speeders around as fast as they could, but they had not escaped notice from the droids.  A couple of shots were fried off in their direction and wildly missed.  Given the temporary safety of the cover the hill provided, Viktor began issuing orders.

“We're not outrunning that tank,” he said.  “There's no cover for us if we run.  Gore, you're with me.  We'll use the rocks as cover to take out the infantry.  Shy, find a sniping position.  Moon, go with him; it'll be the safest spot where you can still be useful.  Spy, do something to distract the tank.”  Some droids could be heard finishing the trip up their side of the hill.  “Hurry!”

Within a few second, everyone had dismounted save for Spy who insisted on using the speeder to distract the tank.  It was reckless, but there was no time to argue.  And, Spy was ex-Lightning Squadron, so what could go wrong?

Some droid heads peeked up from over the top of the hill and were quickly gunned down by the entire lot of them.  Before more droids could make it up, Viktor and Gore had already dashed to the boulders there where they got a good glimpse as to what they were facing.

Excluding the few droids that they had taken down already, Viktor estimated thirty five B1 battle droids and fifteen B2's, then there were definitively three commando droids, one commando droid captain, one magna guard, and one AAT.  Victor squad had their work cut out for them.

The tank fired, and Viktor was glad for the droids' incredibly terrible accuracy.  The blast landed a couple of feet from the boulder he was hiding behind, kicking up vast amounts of dirt and grass.  Before it got a second shot off, Spy launched himself and the speeder over the top of the hill, crushing a B1 that was attempting to scale the sleep incline as he landed.  The tank recognized the speeder as a more dangerous threat, and its guns attempted to follow the fast moving vehicle, allowing Viktor and Gore to begin to take down the infantry.

The droids gave of a hefty amount of suppressing fire.  Viktor tried his best to get some shots off, but he only managed a couple of seconds to do so at a time.  Gore was having worse luck; with the bulk and rev up time for his weapon, he was effectively useless.

Nearly fifty feet down the ridge in the direction that the droids had originally been coming from, Shy found himself a good spot behind the droids.  Moon lay down as low and comfortably as he could while still being able to assist despite his broken arm.  Together, they fired upon the unknowing infantry.  At this range, Moon's pistol found itself significantly less effective than Shy's rifle, but regardless, they had taken down at least six droids before their location had been discovered.

Shy and Moon had diverted the main fire from the droids enough so that Viktor was more capable of defending his position.  Beside him, Gore returned his chain gun to his back in favor of his pistol.  Between Shy and Moon and Viktor and Gore, the droids had already taken significant losses: half of the B1's were down as well as a couple of B2's.

Again the AAT fired, and again it missed as Spy went for another pass, firing off three shots before zooming past the clunky vehicle.  And for the heck of it, he ran down an unsuspecting commando droid.  Predictably, the tank pivoted its cannon in an attempt to line up a shot.  Spy circled back away from where the bulk of the skirmish was taking place, though he had earned himself attention by running down the commando droid.  The droids' fire was now spit in three ways; one part towards Viktor and Gore, another towards Shy and Moon, and a smaller portion in his general direction.

He circled around and made another successful sweep...successful as in he didn't get blown to pieces.  His shots, however, failed to do any noticeable damage.  To the tank's armor; just like the last few times.  “Hey Boss man,” he said, narrowly avoiding a surprisingly close shot from the AAT.  “We might want a change of strategy here; this speeder's guns aren't doing osik.”

“Keep up the distraction,” replied Viktor.  “My DC-17 has a grenade launcher attachment.  The tank's armor stands no chance against it, but these infantry need to be taken down first.”

“Copy that,” confirmed Spy.  Then, he pivoted the speeder in a tight turn, hoping that the unexpected maneuver would throw the tank crew off for a few seconds.  What he forgot, however, was the fact that this speeder had a sidecar.  The sidecar rammed into the ground, leaving a deep impression in the dirt where it had made contact.  Spy tried to regain stability, but was too late.  The AAT fired again.

The sidecar was torn off the speeder and shredded; large pieces of shrapnel flew in all directions, though none of it hit anything.  Spy nearly lost control of the rebalanced speeder, but his quick reflexes allowed him to save it, though any chance of shooting the tank that pass was out of the question.

“Di'kut, you okay?”  Gore asked concernedly as he saw half the speeder explode from atop the hill.

“Aw, the brute cares for me doesn't he?” teased Spy nonchalantly as if nothing had happened.

“I want the pleasure of killing you myself,” muttered Gore as he returned his attention to the vastly dwindled number of droids.  A quick recount told him that five B1's remained, along with seven B2's, one commando droid, the droid captain, the tank, and...well, the magna droid hadn't been killed, but it wasn't there either.  Where could it have gone?

Both Shy and Moon lay behind the cover of the hill; after a stray shot from the tank had nearly gotten them, they both agreed it best to wait till a safer time to resume firing.  They had waited like this for around a half-minute before Shy moved back to his original spot.  What he was not expecting was the sparkling pink shaft the barely missed his head as soon as he broke cover.  He rolled back several feet and Moon tried his best to crawl next him, but his injury was making it difficult.

Not a second later, the magna guard leapt over the top of the ridge and jabbed his staff into Moon's back, as he had not yet begun to stand.  Dangerously large amounts of electricity coursed through Moon, and he screamed in pain.  It was short lived as the now standing Shy charged the droid and knocked it off of him.  The droids recovered quickly, though, and swept its arm out, catching Shy in the face with a painful crack.  Shy lost his balance and fell over, rolling to the bottom of the hill before finally coming to rest.

As Shy recovered, the magna guard walked up to Moon, who was himself recovering from the unexpected and painful jolt.  The droid reached down and grabbed Moon by the neck.  He was in no state to try to fight back, so he let himself go limp in the droid's grip.  Surprisingly, the droid didn't crush his windpipe like he was expecting; it instead threw him up and over the top of the hill, where he landed on his broken limb, exposed to the sight of the remaining droids.

The droid turned around and began walking towards Shy, who had managed to get back to his feet and draw his knife, which he held in his left hand.  Shy matched the droid's movements, and within a few seconds, the two opponents were only a few feet away.  The magna guard began spinning its electrostaff around it in a fantastic display of precision and dexterity, and the flurry of swings ended with a horizontal swing at Shy.  The clone stepped back, the weapon swinging at a safe several inches from his face.  Immediately, he lunged forwards with his knife, bringing it towards the droid's head.

In response to Shy's movements, the magna guard brought the staff back in the direction he had just swung, but Shy already had his right arm up to block.  The weapon and his arm collided with a loud clang.  Shy's knife plunged into one of the droid's eye sockets, releasing an electrical discharge that was harmlessly inhibited by the rubber grip of Shy's weapon.

The droid reeled back, but was otherwise unaffected by the attack.  It spun its staff in front of it in a defensive circle, driving Shy back.  Once Shy was around six feet away from the magna guard, it thrust its weapon forward in a stab.  Shy moved to the side of the predictable attack, grabbing onto the staff with his unarmed hand and pulling it forward, pulling the droid off balance.

It fell to the ground, but it managed to twist itself so that its front faced Shy as the clone pounced the fallen droid.  The droid held its staff with both hands, pushing up while Shy lay on top of it, pushing down on the staff.  The clone was strong, but the droid was ever so slowly managing to push the clone off.

Unexpectedly, Shy took his right arm off the staff and brought it down onto the droid's other eye.  Its face was dented in and its eye was destroyed where Shy had punched.  The droid, with a final thrust, launched Shy off of it.  Using the newly found momentum, Shy rolled behind the droid.  It stood up, its now useless head unmoving as it tried to locate the clone using the optical sensor in its chest.  Shy stayed behind the droid's back until it stopped turning, at which point he embraced it with his right arm and shoved the knife into the light in its chest.  Anther discharge indicated that the damage was done.  The droid twitched, then went limp in Shy's grasp.  Letting go, the dead droid toppled to the ground.

There was no time to for him to celebrate his victory. However; Moon was injured and now at risk of death.  Shy's pistol and rifle had escaped him during the tussle, so he grabbed the nearest weapon he could find, the electrostaff, and rushed over the hill to get Moon to safety.

The battle with the infantry was slowly going downhill.  As it turns out, the B2's that were accompanying this group of droids were grenadier models; as such, one the first line of droids, namely almost all of the B1's, were taken out, they stepped up and began raining explosives over Viktor and Gore's cover.  Like their B1 counterparts, these B2's were pathetically bad shots, but nonetheless, they drove the two clones out from piece of cover to piece of cover.  To add to the mess, Viktor had begun switching out for his own grenade launcher, but now that he had to concentrate on avoiding being blown to bits, his half converted weapon was in no state to fire anything.  That, and the fact that Shy and Moon were not providing support fire, left them all quite exposed.

Not even Spy had escaped being a target from the rain of grenades.  With one of the B2's trained on him as well as the AAT, he was finding it difficult to do much of anything offensive.  For many minutes they were at such a standoff.

Off in the distance, Spy saw Shy run over the top of the hill to where Moon had been thrown to, surprisingly carrying an electrostaff.

“'Ey boss man, I think Shy has more explaining to do.  The magna guard is down, and it looks like Moon is too.”

“Thanks for the update.  Keep them distracted.”

“Trying to, boss, but this grenadier isn't making it easy for-”  BOOM.

One of the BARC's engines blew to pieces, spreading more shrapnel over the ground.  Back near the road, a B2 placed a fresh grenade in its arm and turned its attention to the clones still on the hill.  The speeder wobbled uncontrollably, veering towards the small group of remaining droids.

Finally, the remaining engine gave out, and the speeder hurtled into the droids, running down the commando droid captain.  The speeder skidded on its side, leaving a trail of upturned soil and vegetation in its wake.  To Spy's good fortune, it remained mostly intact and didn't flip, though he was dazed as he toppled out of the seat and landed hard on the ground.  The wind was knocked out of him and thinking coherently suddenly became very difficult.  The flaming wreckage provided cover as he recuperated from his near death experience, and he dared not move.

“Spy!” yelled Gore.  Spy mumbled something undecipherable.

Thankfully, the speeder crashing through their ranks had offered enough of a distraction for Viktor to finally assemble the grenade launcher.  He loaded his first of his limited supply into the chamber and peeked up over the rock he was hiding behind.  The tank was right there, not even aiming for him and Gore; such an easy target.

No, instead, the cannon was aimed extremely distantly from where he, Gore, and now Spy were.  That meant that...

Viktor turned to see where the tank was aiming.  Off in the distance, he saw Shy with Moon slung over his shoulder retreating behind the hill.  The issue was, they weren't behind the hill.

“Shy, behind you!” exclaimed Viktor.  As soon as his warning was sounded, the AAT fired.  Dirt erupted from where they had been.  He saw two bodies soar through the air and land on the opposite side of the hill.

Enraged, Viktor opened fire on the tank.  The explosion tore a large segment off of the tank; chunks of it flew everywhere, most of the large and dangerous ones not straying too far from the chassis.  Other pieces impaled and took down some of the remaining droids.  For good measure, Viktor launched another grenade at the tank.  It was almost unrecognizable.

He crouched down behind cover to convert his weapon back to its standard function.  “Gore, dispose of the remaining droids now!  Shy and Moon are down, possibly dead.”

Holstering his pistol, Gore withdrew his chain gun.  He revved it and prepared to unleash its full furry upon the droids below.  He broke cover and was about to fire when Spy sprung up from the wreckage, taking the droids by surprise.  The unexpected attack tore through them, and within one clip, Spy had downed the remainder of the droids.

Viktor gave no time to congratulate them in their small victory, however.  As soon as the droids were confirmed to be inoperable, he made straight for Shy and Moon's location.  When he got there, he saw that R8 had already left their remaining speeder behind to check up on them.  Surprisingly and to his relief, Shy was moving; in fact, he looked well for having just been shot by a tank, and he was having R8 help him with the disassembly of the nearby magna guard.

On the other hand, Moon was obviously in bad shape; really bad.  The arm that had once been unbroken evidently was now, the armor around it having bent slightly.  One of his shoulder pads had been torn off, and the rest of his armor was riddled with dents, including one big one right over his stomach.

In no time at all, Viktor was by Moon's side and was fiddling with his field medical kit.  He produced a small vial of painkillers and a syringe.  After attaching the vial to the syringe, he infected it into Moon's shoulder.

“Don't waste you resources on me,” he weakly groaned, surprising Viktor by not only being alive, but conscious too.  “There's no way I'm making it out of this.”

“Sergeant, I'm going to do whatever is in my power to ensure your survival,” assured Viktor.

“Don't be a fool, Captain; the mission is more important that I am,” yelled Moon, though he clenched in pain from the exertion.

“Not to me.”

And suddenly, Moon began to laugh.  His body shook in hysterics, though his injuries quickly forced him to cough and end his fit.  By now, Spy and Gore had made their ways to Viktor's side.

“It's funny you say that,” Moon started quietly, “because that is why you're here on this rock.”

The puzzled look on Viktor's face was masked by his helmet, but his confusion was clearly shown through his tone.  “I'm...not sure I follow.”

“I'm not sure I should tell you; that's classified...but, I'm about to die, so I've got nothing to lose.  I told you before you took off from the Loyalty that you were all extremely qualified for this mission.”  A heavy cough interrupted him.  “But, that's only half true; you're qualified, but for reasons that you wouldn't expect.

“Viktor, you're a failure and an insult to commandos.  Your 'men are more important than the mission' mentality not only got your squad mates killed on Christophsis, but it's also what made you fail the mission.  And it was a simple scouting mission, too.  There's no reason that that mission should have failed, yet thanks to your contributions, it did.  Since your promotion as a commando, you've been nothing but derogatory; a waste of resources.  And so the Republic is cutting it losses.

“And you two, Gore and Spy, you're here for similar reasons.  You're both defective.  Your personalities are not correct, and your inability to work harmoniously with others is bad for efficiency.  You two are the types of clones that would have never made it through training.  But, the Republic is correcting that oversight now.”

Shy slowly approached the four of them, followed closely by R8.  Viktor looked back to check him out, and was surprised at what he saw.  Around his left leg was a splint made of two halves of a magna guard arm tied loosely with the wires they once covered, and his gait was assisted by a crutch that was the guard's electrostaff with its hands welded onto it, one under the armpit for support, the other down lower to be used as a grip for more comfortable use.

“And you,” Moon spat, turning his head towards Shy.  “Oh, you have no idea what kind of trouble you've caused the Republic.  I don't know what you were thinking, going on the little escapade of yours, but the Republic figured you out, Shy...or do you still prefer Reaper?”

“Moon, what are you talking about?” asked Viktor.  He was promptly ignored.

Moon coughed again, splattering blood on the interior of his helmet.  “I'd say not to consider running off like you did before, Reaper, but you won't get the chance,” he said in a quieter voice

“What do you mean by that?” a confused and irritated Spy asked.

“To be truthful, none of you will get that chance,” replied Moon, his voice fading as he progressed.  “You were told to expect extraction once your goal was complete, but the truth is, that was never even considered.  You're expected to die here.  By what, they don't know, but they don't care either.  As long as you put a hiccup in the Seps plans and are no longer able to hinder the progress of the Republic, that's all that's needed from you.”

“So let me get this straight,” Spy began.  “The higher-ups sent us four on this mission, not expecting us to come back, just because we hurt the Republic...somehow.  And then, even if we were to survive the process of kicking the Seps out and gathering intel, we'd still be left here?”

“Precisely,” confirmed Moon.

“That's hardly reasonable or justifiable.”

“Not justifiable?” laughed Moon.  “Not reasonable?  Spy, this course of action is both.  You're all faulty; Viktor's a failure, you and Gore are defective, and Shy is a traitor.  None of these are good for the Republic, so once they had this chance to get rid of you and get something progressive done, they were smart to take it.  Accomplish two goals at once.  Perfectly reasonable.”

“But...why would the Republic do that?  We're not droids, who can be expended at will for failing a task; no offense R8.  We're men; real, live individuals who learn from their mistakes so as to not do them again.  The Republic can't justly sentence us to death like this without even giving us a chance to redeem ourselves.”

“So the Republic is punishing Spy and I for something we can't control?” interjected Gore.

Moon coughed heavily, and his breathing slowed.  Drawing a pained breath, he spoke faintly again.  “The Republic is punishing you because you're not up to standard.”

“That's not fair or right!” Spy proclaimed, throwing his arms up for emphasis.

“It's not your place to determine what's right or not,” countered Moon.  “Your job is to follow orders.  And if that means you don't come back, you don't come back.  Likewise, you have orders to complete your mission, and my broken body will only hinder you.  Now you leave me to die in peace and continue on your doomed mission.”  Moon then broke into a coughing fit.  His body shuddered as his vitals finally gave out, and his head slumped to the ground.  Moon was dead.

The remaining clones stared at the body in a tense silence, which Viktor was the first to break.  “Those were some...unsettling revelations.  But, we should honor his last request and continue the mission.”

“Any why should we do that?” Spy questioned.  “What reasons do we have to help the Republic who so blatantly disregard our well being?  What have they done for us that makes them deserve our sacrifice?”

“Spy, now is not the time to argue!  We shouldn't stay here too much longer.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” muttered Spy as he passed Viktor and headed towards the remaining speeder.  “But if the Republic doesn't want me, then I don't want the Republic.  Sorry guys, you're on your own.”  He mounted the speeder, and before any of them could object, he took off, following the road in the direction the droids had originated from.

The rest of Victor squad stared after him in silence.  “He just...took our speeder and abandoned us, didn't he?” asked Gore in disbelief.

“He did.”

“If we run into him again, I am going to murder him.”
> Chapter 10: Abandonment Issues
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~~Sweet Apple Acres, Ponyville, 3 days and 1 hour after the Ambush at Equus~~~




Through the window in Applejack's bedroom, the morning sun's brilliant orange rays filtered through, casting everything in a nice golden sheen.  In the room's bed, Applejack stirred, the sunlight peeking through her closed eyelids and disrupting her rest.  She would usually be awake at this hour, but the late night train ride back home from Canterlot in addition to the past day's events warranted the extra sleep.

Reluctantly, and after failing to return to sleep, she rose from bed, dropping to the wooden floor.  After a brief stretch, she went to her door, opening it quietly and going to the kitchen.

The entire house was silent, as the whole family had shared Applejack's sentiment regarding sleep, but all had the fortune of not having a window directly facing the sun.  She couldn't help but be a little jealous.  That aside, she nonetheless began going through her morning routine; preparing a breakfast for herself and Apple Bloom, preparing Apple Bloom's lunch for while she was at school, then finally completing her hygienic tasks.

By the time she had finished all of that, Big Mac and Apple Bloom had woken up, and the filly had already been seen off to school.  The two siblings were sitting at their dining room table, each enjoying their overdue breakfast.

“So Mac, ya tired from yesterday?” Applejack asked, breaking the silence.

“Eeyup.”

“Ah imagine ya don't wanta be doin' much today, then?” she inquired.

“Nope.  But An imagine that we gotta lot ta do.”

“That we do,” muttered Applejack.  “With not bein' here yesterday and all that, we've got a bit uh buckin' to catch up on, and we gotta empty the barn out of those good apples 'fore they turn bad.”

“Eeyup,” confirmed Big Mac, leaving the two of them once again eating their morning meals in silence.  Applejack finished hers quickly, and after informing her brother that she intended on getting to work early, she made for the door.

She stepped outdoors into the cold morning breeze.  The sun had risen slightly since she had awoken, and the conditions were perfect for a day of apple bucking.  She went to the barn to retrieve the equipment she'd need for her chore.  Once that was complete, she made to the orchards and began working.




“Heya AJ!” Applejack heard called from a distance away.  She looked to where she had heard the voice originate and saw Pinkie Pie joyously bouncing her way, with a saddlebag stuffed full of paper.  One final kick to the tree she had been bucking brought the apples down into the baskets around the base.  By the time they had been loaded onto the nearby cart, Pinkie was within a reasonable talking distance.

“Hey, Pinkie,” greeted Applejack.  “What can Ah do ya for?”

“Well, I've got a reaaally really really really big favor to ask of you, and I want to invite you to a party!” she excitedly exclaimed.

“Ah see,” replied Applejack.  “Who's the party for?”

“I was hoping you'd ask me that!” Pinkie gleefully responded.  “Well, overnight, some visitors came to town; Grevvy's droid friends, I think they were.  Anyways, I greeted them last night and thanked them for helping to save all those ponies there in Canterlot, then I joined them in a scavenger hunt, and they gave me a bunch of really cool posters and told me to give them out to everypony.”

“Grievvy?”

“Yeah, Grievvy.  You know?  Grievous?”

“Oh,” said Applejack, no longer confused.  “Why didn't ya just say that in th' first place?  It woulda avoided this here confusion.”

“Silly, you know I like to use nicknames.  Though Grievvy does kind of sound like gravy, so I suppose I can see where ponies'd get confused.  I wonder if Grievous likes gravy?  I wonder what he'd put it on.  Maybe his cupcakes?  Oh, I bet that'd be tasty!  But, wait...Grievous doesn't have a mouth...I guess he can't like gravy, then.  Life must be sooo miserable when you can't eat anything.  Oh, I feel bad for Grievous, now.  Maybe I should-”

Applejack sighed.  “Ah hate ta press ya for time, but the past day really set the farm off schedule.  Would ya mind just gettin' to the point?”

“No problem,” agreed Pinkie.  “Well, I want to have a party to thank them, but they're a bit tall, and wouldn't be able to fit in any buildings around here except for your barn, so-”

“Ah see what you're gettin' at,” interrupted Pinkie.  “Like Ah said, yesterday threw a bunch'a stuff off.  The barn's full of crates of apples that we needed ta get into town yesterday, and there's a bunch more trees that need to get bucked.  There ain't no way Big Mac and I'd be able ta get everythin' done today.”

Pinkie deflated a little, but instantly returned to her prior state once an idea came to mind.  “If I help you and Mackey out, then would you be able to host the party?”

“There's no reason why Ah wouldn't be able to, Ah suppose,” said Applejack.  “Ya got a deal, Pinkie.”

“Hooray!” shouted Pinkie as she leapt in the air, enthusiastically grabbing Applejack's hoof and vigorously shaking it while still remaining airborne.

“A'ight, that's enough, Pinkie,” said Applejack after having been severely shaken.  She righted herself and then continued.  “Why don't'cha show me the poster the droid fellas gave ya?”

“Okay!” said Pinkie, reaching into her saddlebag with her mouth and grabbing one of the sheets.  She presented it to Applejack, and the country mare took it.  The poster was highly peculiar.

'WANTED' was written across the top in large letters.  A portrait was drawn underneath, depicting the broad shoulders and round head of some strange alien creature.  It had no discernible eyes, nose, or mouth.  The most noticeable trait was the large black 'T' shape that spanned the portrait's entire face.  There were other small things about it that were curious, but that was definitely the portrait's defining characteristic.  Underneath the portrait were more words, reading: 


Soldiers from the Grand Army of the Republic

AKA: Clone Troopers

Kill on sight.  10,000 bit reward for proof of kill, redeemable from any CIS agent

Heavily armed and dangerous; pursue at your own risk


“Uh, Pinkie?” Applejack asked after inspecting the poster.  “This here's a wanted poster.  You know what that means, right?”

“Oh, oh, those are those posters that the police put up in those western films when the police want to catch the bad guy, right?”

“Yup,” confirmed Applejack.  “Only thing is, though, it looks like Grievous ain't out to catch these guys; he means ta kill 'em.”

“Ooooh...” said Pinkie.  Something had clicked in her mind.  “So that's what the scavenger hunt was for.  You know, I saw Rainbow Dash this morning, and when I gave her one of these posters, she said that these were the guys that she and Grievvy went after yesterday.”

“Hmm...” hummed Applejack thoughtfully.  Then, she rolled the poster up and stuck it underneath her hat.  “Well, Ah should probably get back ta workin'.  You go on and finish spreadin' those posters.  When you're done with that, ya come right back here and help me out.  Then we'll see about gettin' that party of yours set up.”

Nodding, Pinkie bounced away to finish her task, leaving Applejack alone to continue her own work, keeping an eye out for any so called clone troopers as she did.


~~~Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, 3 days and 2 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~




It was early in the morning and the start of he day for most ponies, like the servants who would make sporadic appearances throughout the castle's garrison.  However, for the members of the Royal Guard, the day was already several hours old.  Currently, Captain Shining Armor, along with a few of his higher ranking officers, were scattered about the large enclosed field doing routine morning drills with small groups of soldiers.

The previous night had been a long one for him, as he had stayed up much later than he was used to with General Grievous, helping him to pick out locations to station his own forces.  In conjunction with the day's other events, Shining Armor was admittedly tired, but he refused to show it, so as to be an example for his wearied troops.

After a short water break, his small force returned to their block formation as the captain moved to stand in front of them.  “Attention,” he commanded, and his soldiers obeyed, standing tall and rigid and falling into silence.  “Alright, morning stretches,” he said after a few seconds.  “You know the drill.”

As they were about to begin, the familiar clanking of metal against cobblestone could be heard off to the side of the group.  Most of the ponies, including Shining Armor, turned to look at the approaching general.

“Your Captain never told you to be at ease,” Grievous criticized as he neared.  The soldiers in the block quickly snapped back to attention.

“What do you want, General?” Shining Armor asked annoyed.  “You're interrupting our proceedings.”

“I'm only an interruption because you're making one of me,” Grievous retorted.  “I came to observe the way you handle your troops again,” he elaborated.  “What I witnessed last time was very disappointing, but I want to give you the benefit of the doubt and hope that if was just an off day.”

“And what exactly are you hoping to find?” inquired Shining Armor.

“I'm looking to see if your troops could even potentially stand a chance against one of the Republic's,” Grievous explained.  “The chance of such an engagement it there, and it'd be a shame to see ponies die simply for being ill prepared to retaliate.”

“And if you don't find that potential?”

Grievous looked out to the troops in front of him, all of whom still stood at attention, before responding.  “Then it would be my duty to Equestria and your precious Princess to make your troops ready to fight off the Republic threat myself.”

“Uh-huh,” replied Shining Armor.  “I'd ask how you intend on doing that, but I think we've already wasted enough time.”

“Yes, you have,” agreed Grievous, stepping away a few paces to allow the captain room to lead his men through their morning routine.

He and the group of soldiers started off with a few minutes of simple stretches to work out and knots and to get themselves limbered up for the day's training.

Although he was convinced that Grievous's assessment of his troops performance during the changeling invasion was exceedingly harsh and biased, Shining Armor couldn't deny that perhaps they could have been a bit more prepared.  As such, he had quickly worked up a schedule for more intensive combat training for all of his soldiers, which was to begin that day.  The first day of the regime was really a test to see how the new schedule would affect the troops.  If he received positive feedback, or at the very least, nothing negative came from the changes, he would spend his mornings drilling with his high-ranking officers.  After a while of that, those officers would be ready to do the same for the lower ranked troops, and would allow him to get back to the managerial stuff that his position entailed.

They completed their stretches without any further interruption and immediately continued with some conditioning exercises.  Push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, running laps; these and more they did for the remainder of the morning and a short time into the afternoon.  All the while Grievous observed them, gauging their physical fitness and discipline, Shining Armor was sure.  To his surprise, Grievous's expression, or what he could muster of one, was much less contemptuous than the previous times he had seen the general.

Finally, Captain Armor felt it was time to lets his troops off for a bit so that they could grab lunch and get some water.  Many of the soldiers were quite winded, a testament to the Guard's lack of use as anything more than a display of wealth and political power.

“You're more patient than one could be lead to believe,” commented Shining Armor half-heartedly to Grievous as he approached the cyborg.  Admittedly, Grievous's presence was just a tad bit irking to him.

“Certain things try me more than others,” confessed Grievous, still looking about the field at the troops in it.

Shining Armor looked out to his soldiers as well.  “Any comments about how we screwed something up that you'd like to share this time?” he asked jokingly and accusingly.  The response he received surprised him.

“No.”

“Really?”

Finally, Grievous turned to face the captain.  “Considering the tools you have at your disposal and your society's lack of technological development, it'd be wrong of me to say you fall behind the standards set by those facts.”

It took a second for Shining Armor to realize that his forces had just been complimented.  “Um, thanks for that, I guess,” replied, though unsure of what to really say.

“Don't let it go to your head,” Grievous scoffed, crossing his arms.  “In the overall scheme of things, your forces are the weakest and most disadvantaged.  However much you may wish to deny that, it is the ultimate truth of the situation.”

“I really should have seen that that compliment was just a disguised insult,” Shining Armor deadpanned.

“I know you see me as a brutish and cruel individual, Captain, and while I can't say that's untrue, let it not be said that I'm unreasonable.  I'd like to think you're a reasonable pony as well and can see this fact.”

Looking up to Grievous, Shining replied, “Until I see what these Republic forces are capable of myself, I only have your word to go on.  And I don't necessarily trust your word, so you can see where I have my doubts.”

Grievous tisked.  “Learn to trust me soon, then, Captain.  There are dire consequences for those who don't.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It is a warning; one that I would heed closely if I were you.”

“I don't like your insinuations, and I have no desire to speak with you any longer!” snapped the captain.  His raised voice caught the attention of some of the breaking guards around them.  “You wonder why I distrust you; I can't even converse with you without getting aggravated and threatened.  Just get out of here.”

The general clasped his hands behind his back and backed away, simultaneously laughing sinisterly.  He said nothing, though; he merely complied with the captain's orders, leaving his group alone to instead monitor the progress of another group of drilling troops.




It was now a bit into the afternoon, around four, in Shining Armor's perception of time was correct.  As the day's schedule demanded, he was still out on the garrison's training field with the same group of soldiers, doing various exercises to hone his troop's abilities.

For the past half hour, he and his troops had been doing weapon drills, mostly reviewing basic attacks and parries with various pieces of equipment, primarily swords and spears.  Predictably, when the weapons came out, Grievous had returned to bother his group some more.  The general's timing couldn't have been more perfect, though; he arrived as soon as they were about to begin sparring.

For the first few minutes, he stood in silence and just looked out at the soldiers fighting each other.  His eyes displayed ever-growing discontent as he watched.  Refusing to let Grievous get the idea of joining in, he attempted to call it off and move on to the next thing on the agenda, but Grievous acted first.

“Your troops are very methodical about how they move in combat,” Grievous said to Shining Armor, but he was loud enough so as to get the attention of the entire group.  All action stopped and all attention was focused on Grievous.  Not wanting another confrontation, Shining Armor sighed and let Grievous have his way.

“It is good to see that your soldiers are capable of following instructions, but amidst combat is not the time to rely solely on technique, especially when dealing with the Republic,” Grievous criticized.  “Be unpredictable and unorthodox; take advantage of the techniques you've learned in training, but dependence on them will bog you down and possibly get you killed.”

Grievous walked to a nearby rack of weapons, grabbing a wooden spear with a rounded tip off of it.  “A weapon should not be a tool,” he said, distracting himself with swinging the weapon around a bit, trying to quickly acclimate to the absurdly short stick.  “Your weapon should be an extension of yourself; its use should come naturally during a fight.  Relying on learnt techniques with only make your fighting predictable and mechanical, easily the two most disadvantageous thing to have on your side.”

Most of the soldiers in the group were nodding in agreement to Grievous's short speech, though Grievous doubted any of them fully got what he meant.  He pointed his sparring weapon at the troops threateningly.  “Now then; come at me.  Try to land a hit.”

The troops looked about nervously, but reluctantly began to reequip their helmets and weapons to take up the general's challenge.  One particularly brave pegasus immediately charged him, barreling straight towards his chest with his spear leading the way.  Grievous sidestepped the obvious maneuver and quickly brought the shaft of his weapon onto the pegasus' back, driving him into the dirt.

“Too predictable,” he said to the fallen soldier before turning back to the remaining ones.

“Grievous, I will not have you injuring my troops over a simple sparring session!” Shining Armor objected as he rushed to help the downed pony up.  Fortunately, aside from a sore back and dented pride, the pegasus was uninjured.

“Your soldiers need to learn to fight against powerful adversaries, and the best way to do so is through experience,” Grievous spat in retaliation.  “Additionally, you yourself are not competent enough to provide this to your soldiers.  This is a learning opportunity, Captain.  You'd be hurting them by refusing them the chance.”

“I'd be hurting them by letting them go through with this 'learning opportunity'!” the captain shouted.  “You've said so yourself on multiple occasions that we're not ready for anything in your league; forcing us against you without any time to adjust seems ludicrously-”

“At ease, Captain.”

The two of them turned to face the new voice.  Princess Luna stood a few yards away from the group.

“Uh, Princess,” Shining Armor stuttered.  “It's good to see you, your highness.  What brings you here?”

“I came to investigate the sudden change in Royal Guard proceedings, Captain, though it appears to have been planned,” she said.  “It would have been nice if you had informed my sister or I of it before commencing, but what is done is done.  Regardless, I would like you to allow Grievous this opportunity to share his knowledge with the troops.”

Shining Armor was about to argue, but after remembering who he would have been arguing against, he wisely obeyed, stepping towards the princess to let Grievous do his own thing.  The cyborg immediately reverted his attention to the troops and issued his challenge again.  One by one the troops assaulted him, but each time, Grievous parried and countered with vicious blows.  Bones were spared from being broken only thanks to the armor that the guards were wearing.

“Why are you letting him do this?” the captain asked Luna while this was occurring.

“I wish to test him,” she answered.  “I wish to see if his interests are genuine, or if he simply wants to take the opportunity to inflict harm upon us.  I want to trust him as Celestia does, but I can't bring myself to do that yet.  I just hope that our differing standpoints doesn't change anything between us.”

“I see,” answered Shining Armor.  “This is off topic, but I noticed that you're talking correctly all of a sudden.”

“Indeed I am.  I'd prefer to stay away from the details, but I'll say that I had a discussion last night that had a lasting impression.”

Another guard rushed at Grievous, a unicorn, holding his spear in his magical grip in front of him.  He thrust the spear at Grievous's chest.  Grievous swung diagonally downward so as to strike the guard and deflect the spear.  Suddenly, the spear vanished and reappeared to his side, the momentum from it carrying it into Grievous's arm.  At the same time, the guard jumped back, avoiding the swing completely.

The spear bounced harmlessly off of Grievous's arm, but nonetheless, the guard's battered companions all cheered and rooted for him, as he had finally beaten Grievous's challenge.  Grievous had to give the guard credit for being unpredictable.  Away from them all, Grievous could hear Shining Armor also giving his support to the guard.

“It appears that one of you have finally began to grasp my meaning,” said Grievous.

“Thank you, Grievous, sir,” the guard replied, slightly winded from the effort needed to teleport the spear.

“Unit 5H-A1, Superior, contact has been lost with troop division allotted to entity: Applewood.  Suspected Republic interference from surface.  New forces have been prepared aboard Superior and await you command for departure.”

Stupid battle droids!  They had a tank!  There couldn't have been any more than ten clones; they should have been more than a match!

Enraged and disgusted at his droid's poor performance, he brandished his spear and furiously swung it a horizontal arc.  His swing wasn't intended for the soldiers around him, but he was too angry to care about that as his weapon narrowly swung over the heads of some lucky guards who ducked in time.  Others successfully moved out of the weapon's path.  The guard that had successfully landed a shot on Grievous only seconds before, however, was not so lucky.  The sound of his jaw breaking could be heard from several feet away as the devastating blow connected.

Rather than pay any mind to the guard that he had now seriously injured, he turned and stormed off, arms to his sides and fists clenched in rage.  He stepped past Luna and Shining Armor along the way, but payed them no heed.  Both of their gazes followed the general out of the field, Shining Armor's enraged while Luna's radiated disappointment.

Quickly, though, they returned their attention to helping the injured guard to the castle's infirmary.  The scene had attracted the attention of everypony in the field.  Already feeling the toll of the day's excursions, Shining postponed the day's regime until tomorrow, then followed after Grievous to get some explanations for his behavior.


~~~Site of Droid Engagement, Equestria, 3 days, 9 hours and 45 minutes after the Ambush at Equus~~~




“Found it,” Gore announced as he hefted a part of their wrecked speeder's chassis off of a charred, dented, but otherwise intact crate.  He lugged it to a debris-free area of road, where he then opened it and check his contents.  Sighing heavily in relief, he said, “Excellent news, Captain.  Spy took of with our ordinance and left us our rations.”  Reaching into the open crate, he grabbed a blackened ration and held it before his face.  “Most of them, anyways,” he finished, tossing the inedible waste away.

Elsewhere in the wreckage, Shy and R8 had finished up the dismantling of the commando droids head.  Discarding the armor plating and other useless components, he took the droid's memory components and shoved them in one of his belt's empty containers.  “We've collected the lead droid's data,” he said quietly.  “Best not spend more time here than we should, but when we camp next, we can have R8 extract all of the intel on it for us.”

“Very good,” replied Viktor.  He walked to where Gore was sitting with the crate of rations, sorting out the good ones from the bad.

“We've only got a couple of days of rations for each of us,” said Gore once he had finished.  “We can maybe get a week out of what's here if we only have one a day for each of us.  I don't know how smart of an option that is, though.”

Producing a melancholy sigh, Viktor replied, saying, “Unless we can find other sources of nourishment, we have to treat what we've got as if it's the last we'll ever have.”  He tried lifting the crate then.  It wasn't particularly heavy, but its size was still cumbersome.  “We'll need a different way to bring it with us, though.”

“Wait, we're going to walk?” Gore questioned disbelievingly.  “You can't be serious.”

Viktor looked to the burning remains to the AAT.  “Seeing as the tank is destroyed and that our speeders are either wrecked or missing, I don't see any other viable method of transport.  And we've got to move soon, before the Seps send a party here to investigate.”  He looked back down to the crate of useable rations.  “I can carry it all in backpack, but I'll have to ditch most of my ordinance; I may have enough room for a breaching charge and no more.  However much I dislike that option, I dislike carrying in that oversized crate more.”

He immediately set to work clearing his pack of its ordinance, a few small breaching charges and a couple of remote detonators, and replacing them with the edible rations.  Shy and R8 soon joined the two of them, Shy relying on his improvised crutch.  “We're walking,” Viktor said to him once he was near.  “Think you can handle it?”

Shy nodded in affirmation.

Having opted to not sit on the ground like Viktor and Gore had chosen to do, Viktor was forced to look up to catch Shy's response with him.  When he did, he saw that the commando droid captain's vibrosword was mounted on Shy's back adjacent to his rifle.

The pack had been filled, and Viktor and Gore stood up.  “You know you aren't supposed to grab enemy gear off of the battlefield, right Shy?” said Viktor as he reattached the pack to the back of his armor.

“You didn't say anything against him taking that electrostaff to use as a crutch,” Gore retorted.

“The crutch is a necessity due to Shy's injury, and I'm not going to deny him that tool.  The fact that it doubles as weapon is a fun perk,” defended Viktor.

Shy lightly coughed, getting the attention of the other two clones.  “If it's any justification, I feel that the sword is a necessity.  We're planning to go through a forest and a bog, and a sword would be much more efficient at cutting through thick foliage than our knives.”

“It's fine; I wasn't going to make you return the weapon, anyways.  We need any advantage we could get, including getting a head start.  We've got one last thing to do before we continue north.”

“What would that be?” queried Gore.

Looking to the hill which Moon's corpse still lay on, Viktor responded.  “We have a tank we don't want the Seps to possibly salvage, we've got Republic gear that we want to keep out of Sep hands, and we've got explosives that we won't be able to bring with us.  Gore, you drag Moon's body here while I rig the AAT to det.”

Confirming his acknowledgment, Gore hurried up and over the hill to reclaim Moon's corpse.  Resting the body on his shoulder, he returned and placed it in the burning wreckage of the AAT.  Within a matter of minutes, the ordinance that had been removed from Viktor's pack had also been placed around the tank's remains.

“Despite not running into Ghastly Gorge like we were hoping,” Viktor said to his squad as he finished priming the last of the remote detonators, “we still crossed this road, which was a landmark we were looking for.  If memory serves me correctly, by making our path slightly more eastward than before, we should run into a wooded area, which would provide a nice place of cover in which to set up camp.”

With a slight nod of his head, Shy confirmed Viktor's suspicions.

“Charges are primed and ready to blow.  Let's get out of here and hope that the explosion helps cover our tracks.”  Leading the way, Viktor walked, following the direction that the squad had been going before the brief engagement.  Directly behind, Shy followed.  R8 rolled next to him and allowed the injured clone to use his head to support his weight, allowing Shy to nearly keep pace with Viktor.  Gore took up the tail, with his chain gun readied in the case a droid response team managed to spot their retreat.

Admittedly, Viktor was leading them at a somewhat slower pace than he would have liked.  However, he wished to not aggravate Shy's injury by straining him.  As such, it took several minutes of silent travel before Viktor felt they were at a safe distance from the rigged tank to press the button on his remote detonator and set them off.  But when he did, an explosion of substantial size blasted into existence.  There was no way that Moon's corpse and gear had survived obliteration, and it was likely that the vegetation in the area had been burnt and singed, which covered their tracks nicely.


~~~Campsite near Ghastly Gorge, Equestria, 3 days, 15 hours and 30 minutes after the Ambush at Equus~~~




After having spent the past three days experiencing setback followed by setback followed by setback, finding Ghastly Gorge had been uplifting for the squad's severely dampened morale.  By going more eastward as Viktor had said they would, they had inadvertently followed the road, which in turn followed along the top of the gorge's cliffs.  The gorge itself was within viewing distance of the road.

On the opposite side of the road was a lush, green forested area.  It wasn't quite the Everfree forest, which was their eventual destination, but it didn't have a name of its own, according to the map that they had taken.

The weary squad had marched for nearly six hours nonstop.  By now, the sun had completely set, instead replaced with a brightly shining full moon and a multitude of stars.  Deciding that the day had been taxing enough, the clones had retreated past the tree line and deep into the woods.  Fortunately, the moonlight was sufficient enough for them to see without the aid of their helmets' night vision visor or even that of a fire.  Unknowing if any creatures in the forest was capable of harming them whilst free of their armor and unwilling to experiment, they kept their armor on and each found a tree to rest upon.

As it had been during their trek thus far, the three of them had remained silent and tense.  Knowing that they would have been helpless to defend themselves if even a minor force had discovered their whereabouts, they had been constantly on the lookout for any sign of movement during their journey; checking behind their should to see if someone was there.  In fact, it wouldn't have been too much of a stretch to say that they had been paranoid about being caught.

But now, seemingly safe under the cover of foliage and night, they all could finally relax and rest.  It was a glorious feeling.

“How're you feeling, Shy?” Viktor asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.  “Leg giving you any trouble?”

Shy shrugged in response.

“How do you not know?” asked Gore sharply.  “Either it is or it isn't; pick one.”

“No need to be hostile, Gore,” said Viktor.  “He-”

“It got jostled around a bit and it hurts substantially, but it won't be a hindrance,” Shy interrupted, halting the bickering that was about to ensure.

Viktor sat himself up and straightened his back, making himself a bit more comfortable.  “Did you apply bacta to it yet?”

Shy affirmed with a nod.

“That's good.  If you feel you need more, though, I've got a little left in my field kit; not that it'd help too much.  I hear bacta's only minorly helpful with broken bones.”

“If that's true, then you should save it for in the event where one of us gets a grievous injury that bacta is effective at treating,” said Gore.

Looking to Gore, Viktor said, “I'm hoping to avoid that scenario.”

“I'd say that, under the circumstances, it seems like an unavoidable situation.  Someone is going to get shot.  Don't know who, but someone will.  That's why we're here after all.”

“Please don't bring up what Moon told us,” Viktor requested, looking away.  “It's not something I'd like to get into.”

“So you expect me to just forget that it was said?” asked Gore, crossing his arms in disapproval.  “Too bad, Captain.  It's been said, and now I want to know why you're a 'failure'; maybe see if Spy had the right idea.”

Viktor quickly fixed his gaze on Gore.  “You will not abandon us, you hear me?” he commanded.  “That's an order.”

“You give me no reason to obey it,” countered Gore.  “I'm unwilling to trust you as a leader if you're going to keep secrets that should be shared.”  After a brief pause, Gore decided to continue.  “But you haven't really tried to be the leader, now, hove you?”

The odd statement left Viktor befuddled.  “What do you mean by that?”

“You've been thrusting your responsibilities onto Shy ever since we got down here.  You've been having him do most of your work.  You're like one of those gluttons in the senate who do nothing but take the credit for other people's work.”  He was shouting by this point.  “Is that why you're a failure?  'Cause you won't do your own work?”

“I'm not some corrupt politician,” Viktor snarled.

“So if it's not that, then what is it?!”  Due to the volume at which Gore had yelled, his helmet's cracked speakers spiked feedback.  The sharp and loud whistle echoed throughout the woods for a short time.  The arguing clones fell silent, both disarmed by the sudden noise and alert for the sounds of approaching droids.

“Don't yell loudly; you'll give away our position,” chastised Shy after the group had determined that the coast was clear.

Immediately, Gore and Viktor locked visors again.  Neither spoke, and after a few seconds, Viktor finally looked away and sighed, defeated.  “Alright, Gore.  I'll tell you, but only because I want this discussion to be over and not be brought up again.  You got that?”

“I want the same thing,” Gore replied contentedly, relaxing finally against the tree that he was sitting against.

Viktor allowed himself a minute to collect his thoughts and review the details of his short tale before finally telling it.  “As was said aboard Loyalty,” he began, “I served with the Muunilinst 10 on Muunilinst.  I was one of the seven standard infantrymen chosen to accompany Captain Fordo and those other ARC troopers due to my competence on the battlefield before the operation.  After the mission had succeeded, the seven of us standard clones were offered the opportunity to undergo commando training.

“As I'm sure you're aware, most commandos are made specifically for that purpose and undergo much more rigorous and dangerous training than the standard unit.  Really, the best the seven of us could be offered was a dumbed down version of the commando regiment that put us somewhere between a commando and a standard troop in terms of combat effectiveness.  This is where things turned downhill for me.”

He paused and grabbed a nearby twig.  He twiddled it between his fingers, hesitating to continue.  Shortly, he found the resolve to do so.

“I was assigned to Ocean squad when I accepted the training offer.  They had recently lost one of their members, and I was to be the replacement.  It could be said that I wasn't well received by the squad.  Neo, the leader of the squad, was very critical and demeaning when addressing me.  Aqua tended to avoid me, and even threatened to kill me if I 'even attempt to replace Phin, or think myself better than Phin'.  Madoor was the only one who tried to be kind to me.”

Viktor stopped fiddling with the twig and returned it to the ground.  “I got through the condensed training alright, but there was one thing that the training couldn't do for me, or any of us who participated on Muunilinst: give us the correct mindset.  Commandos are bred to be much more independent thinkers.  No amount of training could fix that, and it was that deficiency that likely prompted poor reception from Neo and Aqua.

“Our first deployment as a squad was to seek out, gather intel from, and ultimately sabotage a suspected droid factory on Christophsis during the Battle of Christophsis.  Thanks to the ongoing battle, we were able to make it to the surface undetected, and then carry out the rest of the mission by foot.  We got within close proximity of the suspected factory, and that was when the mission turned sour.”

Pausing again, Viktor grabbed a nearby stick and began distracting himself with drawing in the dirt.  “To maximize the success of the mission at minimal risk, Neo sent out Madoor alone to scout the factory while the rest of us stayed back.  At least if he didn't return, we'd know at least a little of what to expect; that was Neo's logic, anyways.  I personally felt it was a bad way to continue, but what's done is done.

“I wasn’t there to witness it, but Madoor was captured...our HUD informed us of that.  He was my closest friend, and I wanted to help him.  When I requested that we attempt a rescue, Neo said no; that it was 'too obvious' and 'predictable'; that basically the droids'd be prepared for it.”  He wiped away what he had drawn and began again.  “But I went anyways.  I managed to follow his path to the factory and avoid detection.  I broke in and began to search for the prison block.  Not long after, the alarms sounded.

“It was Aqua and Neo who had tripped the alarms, though.  When I ran off, they must have followed me, figuring that the chance to get the entire squad together to finish the mission was more likely to happen than losing two then having the two of them finish up themselves.  Regardless, we met up and freed Madoor.  However, we eventually found ourselves surrounded by destroyers in a narrow passage.  Foolishly, I tossed a thermal det, and when it exploded...”

His speech faltered as he looked at the large 'Madoor' he had written in the dirt.  Quickly, he brushed it away.  “And when it exploded, it brought the whole passage down.  Something else volatile had been caught in the explosion that amplified it.  I never figured out what it was, but I guess it was a fuel line or something similar that got caught in the det.

“The ceiling collapsed on us.  I was lucky and only had minor amounts of debris land on me, but the destroyers and my squad...crushed, flattened, killed.  I got out of there and retreated towards Crystal City, where Generals Skywalker and Kenobi were fighting.  It didn't hit me until a while after I had escaped the crippled foundry that my squad was dead...and that I had killed them.”

The squad fell silent for a long while, both Shy and Gore allowing Viktor the time he needed to get through the emotions that began to flood his system.  Even without being able to see his face, Gore could tell that Viktor was deeply upset.  Soon, Viktor found the will to speak again.  “Aqua was the comm specialist of the squad.  He had the high-powered radios that could contact Crystal City.  It would have been a good idea for me to take that equipment and call in a vehicle, as I didn't have one myself, but I didn't have the foresight to do that, probably a result of my being standard originally.

“It took me a couple of days to reach Crystal City on foot from the position I was at.  Along the way, I came across R8, who had been abandoned by his owners as they fled the CIS occupants.  He accompanied me back, assisting with navigation and gathering intel from a small CIS bunker we came across.  It was during this time that the fact that I had killed my squad and my closest friend began to sink in.  The guilt hasn't lessened from that day.”

While Viktor had been speaking, R8 had sidled to his side.  Shy, predictably, said nothing; it was Gore who was fist to respond to Viktor's story.  “That is quite the story there, Captain,” he said.  “I'm guessing someone found out?”

“Yes,” confirmed Viktor.  “R8 and I reached Crystal City shortly after the battle there had resolved.  General Skywalker and Commander Tano were there to debrief me when I got there.  I told them the truth of what happened, except for one thing, that being that I disobeyed Neo's orders for personal reasons.  The little bit of intel R8 and I gathered from along the way back made the mission less of a failure, but it was me the caused the mission to fail and cause the death of my squad.  That's why I'm labeled a failure.”  Slowly, Viktor turned his head to face Gore.  “Are you satisfied?” he asked coldly.

“Yes, sir, I am,” replied Gore.  “I apologize for being so aggressive about it, but it was necessary in order for me to conclude that I have no issues following your command.”

“Apology accepted.  I'll be honest: I feel a bit better now having shared that.”

“Good to hear, sir,” Gore said.  “And if it's any further consolation, the next group of clankers we take down is for Madoor.”

“Yes,” Viktor sighed contentedly.  “For Madoor.”


~~~The edge of some forest, Equestria, 4 days and 4 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~




Stupid, stupid, stupid! Spy fumed internally as he tinkered with one of the BARC speeder's engines.  He sincerely hoped he could get it back in running order, but having smashed in into a thick and incredibly solid tree, the dented and half detached machine was unlikely to do so.  The crate of ordinance that had been on the speeder since departing the LZ had flown off upon impact, scattering the lethal devices within about the ground around him.  Why was I not paying any attention? he mentally berated himself, to which his stomach loudly answered by growling loudly.  Oh...right...

Thinking back on it, his last meal had been the breakfast the squad ad shared before leaving from Haze's cave.  That had been over a day ago, and his stomach demanded sustenance.  He ignored this, however, as more pressing matters occurred to him.  Alright, I have no idea where I am, I'm in enemy territory, I have limited defenses, my transportation is ruined, and I abandoned my squad and best chance of survival while depriving them of their transportation and ordinance in the process...if we weren't doomed to fail before, we are now.  Way to think things through intelligently and rationally, Spy.

Having assessed the situation and having come to the conclusion that he was screwed in the long run, Spy gathered up what ordinance he could find and put them back in the crate.  After placing the crate on the back of the disabled speeder, he entered the forest that had claimed it in search of something edible.


~~~Sweet Apple Acres, Ponyville, 4 days, 6 hours and 45 minutes after the Ambush at Equus~~~




“Banner's up!” proclaimed Rainbow Dash.  Using her hoof, she nailed in the final fastener in the large banner that read 'Thanks for saving Equestria!' above the barn's large doors.

“Ooh, thank so much for helping me, you guys,” Pinkie Pie said as she pulled a large pink frosted cake out of nowhere and placing it on a nearby table.  “I'm sure the droids are gonna love this!”

From the other side of the barn, Twilight replied.  “I'm sure they will, Pinkie.”  With food taken care of, she crossed that off of her checklist.

“I'm not so sure about that,” Rainbow dissented, landing next to her pink friend.  “Grievous and his droids don't seem like the partying type.  Or in any way celebratory, for that matter.”

“It's true that they were a little hesitant to come,” said Pinkie as she reflected back to the moment when she practically had to beg the lead droid to attend.  “But,” she continued, putting a lot of stress on the word, “they're probably just so stressed out from their silly war that they forgot what 'fun' and 'relaxing' were.”

Applejack approached the two of them.  “A'ight, Pinkie.  Ah think everything's in order.  Can't see anything out of place.  How many guests're we expecting?”

“I was expecting all of them,” Pinkie answered, causing Applejack to grow wide-eyed, “but the droid I talked to would only permit eight to come, including himself.  So eight.”

“Phew,” sighed Applejack, wiping away the sudden nervous sweat that had formed on her brow.  “Glad it ain't all of 'em; barn ain't big enough to hold them all.”

“Oh well,” Pinkie sighed disappointedly.  As usual, her negativity lasted mere fractions of a second.  “But I guess this means I'll have to have another party!”

“Right, but that's an issue fer another time,” Applejack interjected before Pinkie could go on a tangent.  “Ya never answered my first question, though: anything out of line?”

Pinkie hummed thoughtfully and scanned the barn's interior critically.  Streamers and confetti littered the ground.  Balloons filled a majority of the airspace near the ceiling.  Overall, the scene was that of a young foal's birthday party.  “It's perfect!”

“Sweet!” cheered Rainbow.

“Rarity!” Pinkie called, grabbing the elegant mare's attention.  She halted trying the get the wrinkled tablecloth perfectly smooth to listen.  “Since you're the closest to the door, would you mind getting the droids for us?”

“I can do that,” she replied, beginning to rise.  “Where will I find them?”

“They should be waiting by the farm's gate; that's where the one I talked to said he'd be.”

“Alright,” said Rarity.  Having fully risen, she turned to the doors and lightly pushed them open.  She peeked her head out of the barn.  She heard two simultaneous whirring noises, one from either side of her, and she looked to see a droid sentry on each side of the door.  They were both looking at her.  Their unchanging cold and emotionless gaze, if it could be called that due to their lack of eyes, was quite unsettling.  In the orchard, she could see other droids milling about the rows of trees, likely checking for clone troopers.

Rarity returned her attention to the sentry on her right.  “Um, we're, uh, ready for you now.”  The droid said nothing; it merely nodded and looked out towards its companions as they cautiously made their way to the barn.  Talk about paranoid, she though as the droids covered their rear and flanks, prepared to engage any nonexistent enemies at a moment's notice.

Like the gentlelady she was, Rarity generously held the door open for the incoming droids, one with her hooves and the other with her magic.  None gave any sign of thanks or appreciation as they entered.  Rude.  The sentries were the last of the droids to enter.  They did so backwards, keeping their weapons raised so as to retaliate against any possible ambush.  Once they had cleared the threshold, Rarity followed and shut the doors behind her.

“Surprise!” yelled Pinkie as she leapt from behind a table that she had hidden behind just before any of the droids had entered.  Pinkie continued after the droids failed to respond.  “Okay, well, maybe it wasn't a surprise since you knew it was coming and Rarity so politely told you that it had started, but at least you're all here to partake in cake!”

“Ugh, they don't have mouths,” groaned Twilight, having just remembered that fact.

“Oh, right,” Pinkie said sheepishly.  “Does anypony from your world have the ability to eat?”

“Only organics,” replied the lead droid, a brown commando droid with a white trident decal on its faceplate.

“I suppose I should introduce you guys, huh,” Pinkie said with a hint of awkwardness.  “Everypony, this is L3-E7,” she introduced, gesturing towards the commando droid.  “I call him Leet, though, since that's easier to pronounce and that's what his name looks like.  Leet, these are my friends.  Twilight Sparkle, Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash.”  She pointed to each of them as she said their name.  Leet looked over them but said nothing.  “Um...enjoy the party?”




The air was absurdly thick with awkwardness.  Except for Leet, who was someone forced to participate in the little conversation shared for public relations purposes, the droids were completely silent.  Two of them made themselves sentries while the others stood in other spots strategically chosen for quick response in case of an ambush.

Pinkie had really been the only one to engage Leet in conversation and had left him for a minute to grab herself a slice of cake.  On the return trip, she was intercepted by Rainbow Dash.  “Hey Pinkie,” Dash said in a hushed tone.

“Yesh Dash?” replied Pinkie, the plate held by her teeth messing with her pronunciation.

“Not meaning to be rude, but it doesn't really look like anypony's really enjoying themselves.”  She waved her hoof around the barn, pointing out the droids who stood stoic as ever, the round table where the rest of their friends were engaged in light conversation, and the vacant patch of ground that had be reserved as a dace floor.

Pinkie spit her plate out and brought her hooves to her head in panic.  The plate managed to land undamaged on the table Leet was patiently sitting near.  “You're right, Dash!  Oh, what should we do; what should we do!  I can't have this party be a disappointment!”

“I had a feeling that the party would kind of fall apart,” admitted Rainbow Dash.  She then pointed to the record player that sat by the empty dace floor.  “It's a stretch, but maybe some different music would appeal to them.  I've got something I think they might like at my house that could get if you'd like.  It might be worth a shot.”

“Oh, yes, please, could you do that, Dash?” Pinkie nearly begged.

“If you don't mind me missing out on the nothing that's going on for a couple of minutes, sure.”

Pinkie squeed and pulled Rainbow into a tight hug.  “Oh, thank you!” she managed to say before being pushed away by her friend.

“It's not a big deal, Pinkie.  I'll be back in a minute.”  Dash then exited the barn and zoomed for her cloud home.




“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Spy mumbled to himself as he slinked through the undergrowth of the forest that had been abruptly cut off by the presence of a dirt path.  It was undeniable: Spy was miserable.  Hungry and tired, he carefully made his way through the forest grime alongside the path, hoping to follow it to some sort of civilization; preferably one not sided with the CIS.

It had been approximately three hours since he had crashed and abandoned his speeder.  Since then, he had only managed to get himself more lost and more frustrated.  Reflecting back on his completely unwise decision to leave Victor squad behind and upon the Republic's crimes against him only fueled his frustration, lessening his awareness towards his surroundings, getting him more lost, and thus further frustrated.  It was quite the unfortunate perpetual frustration generator.

The path had been a very welcome sign of progress.  Whether it was progress towards his death or to his salvation he didn't know, but he ultimately didn't care.  Any escape from his hopeless situation was hope in of itself.

His thoughts were halted when he saw something peculiar occurring in the sky.  A short but blatantly obvious red streak was heading in his direction.  Curious, he inched closer to the path, enough so that his view was unobstructed.  At first glance, he had assumed it the trail of some sort of aerial probe.  Upon zooming in on with his helmet's binoculars, though, he saw it for what it truly was: a winged horse.

Had he not already seen similar beings in the pictures he and Gore had scanned in Appleloosa, he'd have been more shocked by its existence.  The trail following it, not revealed to be a rainbow and not just red, was a bit baffling, but he was not in the mood to question it.

He watched as the being flew near his position, zipping over the path.  As fast as it had approached, it receded, heading towards a large cloud off in the distance that hadn't changed at all throughout the day.  It flew behind the cloud, at which point Spy lost visuals on it.

Huh.  Spy wasn't really in the mindset to think anything more of the event, and instead lay there and waited for several minutes to see if it would return.  When it didn't he decided the coast was clear and continued his advance.

For several uneventful minutes afterward, Spy continued to follow the path.  Finally, though, the path did something more interesting than go in a straight line.  He rounded the bend and could see in the not so far off distance a settlement.  He could see a tall tower-like structure surrounded my a few smaller houses, but not much else from that distance.  More importantly, however, he saw on the other side of the path a bush riddled with bright blue dots.  They could only be one thing: berries!

Excitedly, he lunged out from his cover in the underbrush, only to stop himself a moment after initiating the movement.  He needed food, but he was still in hostile territory; the benefits of risking detection had to be extremely high, and he would have to move quickly and carefully to minimize the risk of getting caught.

A minute passed, and in that time, nothing changed.  No ground forces were in sight, and the flying thing had yet to appear again; everything seemed clear.  Taking the risk, Spy stood and bolted across the path, leaping into the brush on the other side.  Making sure to cover himself as completely as possible with the forest vegetation, he greedily began to rip the berries off of the bush.

The bush was shown no mercy.  Both his hands attacked it, grabbing every berry with easy access and tossing them into a growing pile atop his forearm clutched to his chest.  Within a couple of minutes, the bush had been stripped of most of its fruit; none was visible at a glance, anyways.  Satisfied, he stood and began to walk to the side of the path he had originally been on, opting to be careful to not drop his prize as opposed to being careful to not get caught.

He looked down to the pile that had grown about three inches tall and about a foot wide that was resting upon his folded arms.  These might not even be safe to eat, he mused, uncharacteristically pessimistic.  They looked like blueberries, but he couldn't be sure that they were.  I could use Shy's egghead machine about now.

Without warning, something hit him from behind, producing a loud thunk as it impacted his armor.  Not expecting the push, Spy lost his balance.  He brought his arms out so as to catch himself, scattering berries all over the path in front of him.  He was too slow, though, and landed hard on the dirt.   And some berries.

“Ow, that hurt,” he heard a raspy voice groan from behind him.  Forgetting his lost food, Spy quickly jumped to him knees, spun, and drew his pistol.  Sitting on the path, rubbing its head where it had made contact, was the winged horse from earlier.  When it turned its head up to look at Spy, it immediately noticed his weapon pointed its direction and began to fearfully back away.

“Don't move,” he ordered, and it stopped moving.  There was a brief silence, and Spy took the opportunity to make some observations about the alien, sizing it up and trying to identify any vital weak points.

“Your face is different,” the small horse noted, confusing Spy slightly.

“Elaborate,” he commanded.

“You're a...you're a clone trooper, right?” it asked.  Its wings tensed as if it were preparing to take flight.

“Yes,” he answered.  “And I said don't move.  State your name and affiliation.”

It gave him a questioning look.  “Affiliation to what?” it asked.

“Republic or Separatist,” he clarified.  “Clone or droid.”

“I'm Rainbow Dash,” the horse introduced itself as.  “And, um, well, you see, I'm...” Dash stammered, getting nervous.

“You're with the droids, aren't you,” he surmised.  Rainbow Dash looked about nervously, but didn't answer.  “I'm Spy; well met.  It's good for you that you're Sep, then.  You'll make for good intel and a good hostage.”

“Hostage!?” Dash exclaimed, leaping into the air and backing off.  “No; there's no way I'm letting you take me hostage.”

“Shame,” replied Spy with fake sadness.  “I suppose that if you'll be no use to me, I'll have to make sure the Seps can't get any use out of you either.”  He took closer aim.  Simultaneously, his stomach growled loudly.

Rainbow dropped to the ground.  “No, don't shoot,” she implored.  “Listen, I was on my way to a party; why don't you come so we can maybe talk out an arrangement where you get your intel thing and I don't become a hostage.”

It's a trap.  Nearby, he noticed a small boom box laying on the ground, likely dropped by Dash after she had flown into him.  So maybe the party bit wasn't a lie, but he was certain of some sort of catch.  “Will we encounter any droids?” he asked.

“No,” Dash answered hesitantly.

Alright, so there will be droids.  His stomach rumbled again.

“There's, um, cake?” Dash offered.

Spy lowered his weapon.  “Take me to this party,” he agreed.  “I'm sure we'll work something out."




“Come on, Spy,” Dash commanded, annoyed by him taking cover behind one of the barn's corners, out of view of the door.

“I'm not sure I'm entirely okay with this idea after all,” he complained.  He leaned around the corner, and upon seeing no droids, quickly leaned back behind cover.

“Ugh,” she groaned, flying next to Spy and pushing him towards the door.  “Just get in there so we can get this discussion over with!”

“Alright, alright,” conceded Spy, taking a few steps towards the barn door.  He stopped and turned to Rainbow Dash.  “You've got friends in there, right?”  Dash nodded in affirmation.  “Then I want to make an entrance; good first impressions and all that jazz.  Here's what we're gonna do,” he said, reaching to his grenade pouch and retrieving an EMP grenade.  “This thing here,” he said, holding the grenade towards Rainbow Dash, “makes a really nice light show when it goes off.  I'm going to set it on a timer.  I want you to bring it inside, and when it goes off, I'll come in.  It'll look awesome.”

“And how am I supposed to know you're not gonna run off while I do that?” she countered.

“And I thought you wanted me gone,” he chided.  He then reached for his helmet and removed it.  He held it towards Rainbow Dash, saying, “Well, if I leave, I won't be able to get this back, then, will I?”

“That's true,” admitted Dash, taking the helmet from Spy.

“So you'll do it?”

Dash sighed defeatedly.  “Fine, but only because I'm late getting back here as it is and I don't want to delay further."

“Good,” said Spy.  He tinkered with his grenade for a second before handing it to Dash.  “Timer's set; get movin'.”

Items in hoof, she flew to the door, landing in front of it and shoving it open with her shoulder.  When she stepped in, all of her friends looked her curiously, or more accurately, at the helmet and grenade she carried.

“Leet,” she said, addressing the droid that hadn't moved since she had left.  “I ran into a clone on my way here; he's outside the barn if you want him.  He handed me his helmet and this thing,” she held the grenade towards Leet, who took it, “but I don't know what it is.  He said something about a light show-”

“EMP,” Leet proclaimed.  The droids in the barn attempted to get as far away from the device as possible.  Not a second after the droid's proclamation, it went of.  A sphere of cackling electricity pulsed throughout the entirety of the barn.  All eight droids were caught in the blast radius, their overpowered circuits sparking as they fried.  The ordeal lasted only a couple of seconds, and in its wake, eight useless piles of scrap lay about the barn floor.

“Leet?” Pinkie asked sadly as Spy pushed his way through the barn door.

“Nothing like the smell of fried droid to lighten a depressed clone's spirits,” he said.  All eyes went to him as he made his way towards the body of Leet.  Only a couple of steps in, though, and Rainbow Dash was flying right in his face.

“What was that!?  What did you do!?” she shouted.

“I did nothing,” he said calmly, stepping around her.  “You had the grenade; these are your kills.”

Spy had made it to Leet's crumpled remains, where he crouched and grabbed onto his head.

“Kills?” both Pinkie and Rainbow asked simultaneously.  “As in...dead?” Rainbow continued.

Spy unsheathed his knife.  “Eeyup,” he confirmed.  “I must say, getting eight with one droidpopper is a really difficult task.  You should be proud.  Though you did say we wouldn't be seeing any droids...”  Without waiting for a response, he put the knife to Leet's neck and began slicing away at the wires keeping Leet's head on.

The shock of the scene had worn off on Applejack.  She marched over to Spy.  “You're one of them clone troopers Grievous is wantin' dead, ain'tcha?” she asked harshly.

Without stopping his task, Spy responded, saying, “Yeah, I am.  You know the head clanker?”  Leet's head finally detached, and he held it in front of him.  Looking at it, he said, “I'll say nothing about the unintended but morbidly hilarious pun.”

“That's unimportant.  What is important, though, is an explanation as to why y'all did this, else Ah might be inclined to collect on the handsome bounty he's put on you clones's heads.”

“A handsome bounty is befitting of a handsome clone, I suppose,” he said, rising to his feet.  “I suppose I'll be taking my leave then.”  He turned to Rainbow Dash, who was still furiously glaring at him.  “Dash,” he ripped his helmet out of Rainbow's grip, then turned to the barns other occupants, “and friends; have a good day.”  Turning, he pushed aside the barn door and left.  After a couple of seconds, he peeked his head through the door again.  “Oh, and I wouldn't eat that cake.”  His head disappeared from sight, Spy having left for real this time.

Off to the side, Twilight shook her head furiously.  “What just happened?”

“That bucker!” Rainbow cursed.  “He used me to take out these droids!  I'm going to hunt him down and turn him in.”

“Not alone you ain't,” said Applejack beside her.  “Girls, why don't ya see if Big Mac'll escort y'all home while Dash and I track this nuisance down.”  Nopony had any objections, and they left the barn as a group.  Once outside, they could see Spy just passing the tree line.

“We'll bring 'im to justice,” Applejack assured the rest as she and Dash took off after the troublesome clone.

“Get him for Leet!” they could hear Pinkie call from behind then as they passed through the gate of Sweet Apple Acres and into the nearby forest.




Having successfully lost Rainbow Dash and her orange friend, and no longer having the energy to run due to his lack of nutrition, Spy slowed to a walk and continued to move away from the barn.  Even though no droids were nearby and he doubted that Rainbow was pursuing, he still had his DC wielded, ready for if he was incorrect with his assumption.

He had met with surprising success.  In the end, it seems that Rainbow's request had happened: he had collected his intel in the form of the commando droid's head and any data contained inside of it, along with the knowledge that the ponies and CIS were aligned, while Dash was free of becoming his hostage.  Some cake would have been nice, though.  Privately, he celebrated his victory, but as he trudged through the woods, he began to question.  Why did I want this information?  How does it help me to know this stuff?

He heard some rustling come from distantly behind him, along with the echos of a pair of voices, one of which sounded like Rainbow Dash's.

Was it necessary for me to do that and to do it so crudely?  He picked up his pace slightly, being careful to be as quiet as possible.  The rattling of the droid's head in the helmet held upside down in the crux of his arm wasn't helping.  He could hear his pursuers getting closer.

I have no need of this.  It's for an assignment I no longer wish to complete.  Boss man would make use of it, but I don't serve the Republic any longer.  His decision was made.  He came to a halt near a sizable bush.  He set his helmet down a few feet in front of the bush, and then hid himself behind it.  The DC he had equipped was swapped out for his pistol.  The trap was set and his plan in motion; all there was left to do was wait.

It wasn't long before his pursuers, undoubtedly Rainbow Dash and her orange friend, by the sounds of their voices, had come upon his helmet.  “That's peculiar,” he heard the orange one say warily.

“He seemed to really like his helmet,” Rainbow said to her friend.  “I doubt he would just abandon it like that; it's probably a trap.  Be on your guard, Applejack.”

“Gotcha,” Applejack acknowledged, walking straight for the bush that Spy was concealed behind.  Her orange hoof poked through the bush, nearly striking Spy's unguarded face, and pushed the foliage aside, revealing the waiting clone.

“Dash!” she managed to exclaim before being pounced on by Spy and promptly pinned.  He kept his pistol away from her, though, instead keeping it pointed to the sky.

“Quite astute of you to realize that this was a trap, Dash,” he complimented, turning his head to her.

Beneath Spy, Applejack struggled to escape his grasp.  “Let her go!” Dash demanded.

“You're not quite in the position to be making demands,” Spy said, twirling his weapon around for emphasis.  “I'm really not interested in using this, and if you'll just hear me out, I think we'll come to a resolution that'll be beneficial to us all.”

Looking at Dash, he could see that she was tense.  Her wings were flapping heavily, and she was likely preparing herself to lunge at him as opposed to listen.  To deter her, he pointed his weapon at Applejack.  “Please, just listen.”

“Just don't hurt Applejack,” she said, dropping to the ground.

“Thank you.  Now, if I were to guess that you followed me in here to capture me and bring me to the droids, would I be correct?”

“Yes, and that option sounds really good 'bout now,” came Applejack's muffled reply.

Spy let some pressure off of Applejack.  “Then please note that I am willing to go peacefully, as long as you can assure me that I will not be harmed by anyone.”

Rainbow was certainly not expecting to hear that.  “So you'll just...go?  Resistance free?”

“So long as you can ensure I'll not be harmed, yes,” he repeated.  “Of course, I'm not willing to just walk into an area highly concentrated with droids without them first knowing that I'm there to be taken into custody.  Dash, find a droid and let them know of my offer.  Lead a small group here to take me, and Applejack here will be left unharmed.  Deal?”

“How do I know you won't hurt AJ while I'm gone, huh?”

Finally, Spy let Applejack free, but kept his weapon aimed at her.  “Because she's my hostage.  It doesn't make sense to damage your bargaining tool.”

“If Ah'm your hostage, why'd ya let me go?” Applejack asked, dusting herself.

“Just a courtesy,” Spy replied.  “But don't try running; I'm willing to shoot.”

Applejack sighed and turned towards Dash.  “Do it.  If he wanted ta get rid of us, he had plenty'a time just now to do so.  I think I'll be fine when ya get back.”

“Alright,” Rainbow agreed.  “I'll be quick.”  And she was, zooming up through the trees and out of sight in the blink of an eye.

Spy sat down, crossing his legs and sitting a few feet away from his hostage, whose gaze was focused on the weapon he still had pointed at her.  “Ya don't be needin' ta point that at me.  Ah ain't gonna run; I'm true to my word.”

Complying, Spy rested the pistol in his lap.  “And I'm true to mine; run, and I shoot.”  After that, silence pervaded the two of them for a long while, Spy questioning the wisdom of his decision while Applejack still tried to figure out what exactly had happened to get her where she was.

“So ya fight for the Republic?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Not anymore.  There was a startling revelation that drove me away from them.  Hopefully I'll be able to prove that to someone and not get killed for being a clone.”

“What exactly is the Republic?” inquired Applejack.

“You don't know?” he asked, slightly stunned.  “You're sided with the Seps, but don't even know what the Republic is?  Man, has Grievous tricked and manipulated you.”

“Whaddya mean?  Are you sayin' that Grievous is a bad guy or somethin'?”

Spy allowed himself a minute to word his response before answering.  “I don't know Grievous too well, but considering that we were on opposite sides of the conflict, I think my biased answer would be that yes, he's bad.  But so is the entire CIS; they're corrupt and evil.  The Republic’s not perfect, though, as they use clones like me, but at least they don't assassinate their own representatives.”

“The CIS...they really do that...that ain't good at all.”

The clone gave her a curious look.  “You're not even going to question the legitimacy of my claim?”

“Ah know honesty when Ah see it.  However much Ah dislike what ya've done since arriving, Ah can't deny that what you've said is true...or, at least true to you.”

“Thanks, I guess?”  

Before their conversation could continue, Rainbow Dash made a reappearance, landing between Spy and Applejack.  “The droids have agreed to not hurt you.  Somehow, Princess Celestia has been notified of you and wishes to speak with you,” she said.

“Excellent,” replied Spy.  He began to remove his weaponry, tossing his small armaments into his helmet.  Everything except for his DC fit.  “Hold on to this,” he said, handing the filled helmet to Rainbow Dash.  After dumping his DC onto Applejack, the three of them made their way out of the forest.

“A train's apparently being arranged to take you to Canterlot right now,” continued Rainbow Dash.  “And, well...since I found you, she wants me to come along.”

“Terrific; it'll be a great bonding experience,” he said sarcastically as they neared the edge of the tree line.  He could see a couple of droids waiting for him beyond the edge of the forest.  “Go ahead and turn in my equipment; make sure they know I'm unarmed.”

The ponies did as requested, leading a few paces in front of the captive clone.  As soon as he had broken free the trees, four battle droids approached with raised weapons while another came behind with binders and bound his hands together behind his back.  “You are to be escorted to entity: Ponyville train station to confront entity: Princess Celestia,” the droid that applied the binders began.  “You are to not ask questions and obey any given commands.  Noncompliance will result in execution.”

“Sounds good,” said Spy.  “Just one question: can we get going?”
> Chapter 11: Alignment
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~~Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, 3 days and 10 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~




“Will he be alright?”

“It will take at least a couple of weeks for his jaw to heal, but he’ll make a full recovery.  There’s no point in keeping him here, though; you might as well send him home for the duration of his recovery.”

“Sounds like a reasonable suggestion, doctor.  Thanks again for patching him up.”

“He’s not patched up yet, Captain Armor, but it is my honor and privilege to serve the Guard; there is no need to thank me.”

“Regardless of whether or not you’ll accept my thanks, know that your work is appreciated.  I’ll have to excuse myself, now, and file an incident report.  I expect to hear good news later.”  With an official salute, Shining Armor turned and trotted out of the infirmary.  The doctor returned the gesture with a lazy and distracted salute of his own.

Free of the infirmary, the captain strode down the hall in the direction of his office, brow furrowed in thought.  It wasn’t difficult to guess what was on his mind.  The General’s attitude and actions since arriving had been nothing but abominable.  The fact that Celestia trusted that monster was equally reproachable, if not more so.

How could she be so blind? he thought.  Well, this incident report should correct her vision.  Luna was there, too; she ought to be on my side against Grievous; she even admitted to not trusting him.  Confident that he had the means to plant the seeds of doubt in Celestia’s mind, he confidently finished the short trek to his office.




There was a knock at his door, and the captain released an irritated sigh.  “Ugh, I’m busy,” he called, straightening the small stack of papers on his desk.  “Unless it’s urgent, report to somepony else.”

“I wish to converse with you privately, Captain,” the muffled but still unmistakable voice of Luna responded from the other side.  Immediately, Shining Armor straightened himself and flung the door open with his magic.  She walked in and closed the door behind her before approaching the captain’s desk.

“Uh, my, uh, apologies, your highness, I didn’t know it w-”

Luna chuckled slightly, now sitting across from him.  “It’s no matter; please, let us speak informally for the time being.”

“Yes, your...er, um, yes.”

“I do believe you can guess the topic of which I wish to converse,” she prompted, becoming dreadfully serious in an instant.

“Grievous?”

“Correct.  I am aware that you disagree with Grievous on just about everything he’s done and said thus far, and I am also aware that you are aware that I share a similar position.”  The captain nodded and waited for Luna to continue.  “You weren’t thinking of using this incident with the injured guard to try to make my sister see our concerns, were you?”

He should have expected Luna to catch him on that.  Thinking on it, it was kind of a predictable move.  Didn’t Grievous say something about being unpredictable?  “I...I was hoping to do that, yes,” he admitted.

Luna sighed and shut her eyes, pausing to choose her next words carefully.  “I have to ask you to not do this.”

“What!?”  He stared at her, wide-eyed.  “That’s preposterous; you saw how Grievous-”  Luna raised a hoof, and he silenced himself.

“Please, allow me to explain,” she requested, lowering her hoof.  “I have reason to believe that there were extenuating circumstances that were the cause of Grievous’ outburst.  While I certainly don’t want Grievous’ disregard for our soldier’s well-being to continue, it would be unfair to slander him with just this one exceptional event.  Please be impartial while writing up this report, and please continue to be until it’s determined how violent he really is.”

Dejectedly, Shining sighed.  “You’re right; this is probably a misunderstanding.  I’m just a bit apprehensive about, well, anything regarding that monstrosity.  I’ll confront him about the situation and hopefully clear this up.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Luna said, returning to formal addresses.  “When you do go to speak with Grievous, do so civilly.”

“Yes, your highness.”

With a nod, Princess Luna left, leaving Shining Armor alone to finish up writing and filing his report on the incident.




Up and up the towering spiral staircase Shining Armor climbed.  He had finished up the impartial and unbiased report of the guard’s injury, his goal now to confront Grievous and hopefully get an explanation for the General’s outburst.

The staircase lead to an ornately decorated hallway.  Large banners depicting Celestia’s cutie mark lined one side of the hall while banners of Luna’s adorned the other.  Shining Armor stepped into the hall, diligently making his way past the doors to the Princess’ rooms, which were across the hall from each other.  Farther down the hall were the guest rooms.  They weren’t quite as pompous as the Princess’ rooms, but they were still a pleasurable rooming experience that only the most important visitors of the castle got to experience.

And, to the Captain’s discontent, this included Grievous.

Two rooms past the Princess’ on the same side as Celestia’s was the room she had allotted to the cyborg.  As he approached, he could hear the General’s obnoxiously loud voice coming from his room, and he couldn’t help but stop and eavesdrop.

“...need droids competent enough to dispatch a small group of clones.  But we can’t ignore the threat that Shining Armor presents as well.  They are all pests that need to be squashed.”

Another voice came from Grievous’ room, but it was much softer; he could only make out snippets of the speaker’s words.  “Patience...deal with...yourself.”  It sounded muffled and staticy, and Shining Armor inched closer to attempt to hear the speaker more clearly.

“My Lord, I am aware that there is a plan already established for dealing with his interference.  He has, however, been more aggressive with his resistance, and my patience wears thin.”

“You fool, Grievous.”  Finally Shining Armor was close enough to hear the voice.  He recognized the speaker as Count Dooku, and assumed Grievous was talking to him via his projection device.  “It is good that he resists.  That means that our plan has been set in motion, and it’s up to you to act properly.  Do not fail me, or there will be dire consequences for you.”  There was a pause.  “It appears that I may have said too much; you have a visitor.” 

The device clicked, ending the communication, and Shining moved away from his position near the wall.  How did he know I was there?  The captain decided to let it slide for the time being, and he confidently walked up to Grievous’ door and knocked on the hard wood.

The door immediately flung open.  Grievous’ arm shot out of the open doorway and clamped around his neck.  In what seemed to be less than a second, the General had pulled him into his room, shut the door quietly, and aimed his blaster at the stunned captain’s head.

Grievous’ arms were split, one holding Shining Armor, one holding his blaster, and the other two reaching for the cylindrical devices at his waist.

“What’re you doing, Grievous?” he choked out through the General’s tight grip.

“What did you hear?” Grievous asked menacingly in turn.

Shining tried to respond, but Grievous held his throat tightly enough so that all that came out were gurgles.  Mercifully, he loosened his hold, but still held enough strength to suspend the sizeable pony a few feet above ground.  Now free of being choked, Shining responded.  “I heard nothing,” he lied.

“I don’t believe you, Captain.  Now answer me: what did you hear?”

“Why does it matter what I’ve heard; have you something to hide?  If your intentions here were pure, there should be no reason to hide anything from us.”

Grievous growled.  “You aggravate me, Captain, and are an interference.  Perhaps I will take my master’s advice and deal with you myself.”  Accentuating his point, Grievous prodded the side of the pony’s head with his pistol.

“Not without resistance!” Shining Armor defiantly challenged.  He conjured up a quick teleport spell, and in a flash of white light, he was out of Grievous’ grasp and behind him.  Before Grievous could react, Shining spun and delivered a strong buck to his back.  Surprised by the attack, Grievous fumbled forward and dropped his blaster.

Suddenly, he was enveloped in a pinkish aura and unable to control his movements.  Grievous was levitated off the ground and flung into the door.  The flimsy wood gave as his heavy metal body collided, exploding into a shower of planks and splinters.  The collision did little to reduce his momentum.  He crashed into the hall, smacking into the wall opposite his door before finally being released and allowed to drop to the floor.

Grievous quickly rose as Shining Armor entered the hall through the broken door, taking slow, deliberate steps, and wearing a smug expression.  His smirk was all the provocation Grievous needed to retaliate.  Rising to his full height, which the ceiling mercifully allowed, he grabbed a lightsaber from his waist with two of his arms, one on each side.  His other two arms he left unarmed.

The two combatants circled each other, stopping when they were aligned with the hall lengthwise.  Grievous struck first, lunging with his fists.  He swung with a diagonal uppercut, that Shining Armor easily dodged, then brought his other fist down where Shining Armor dodged to.  Shining Armor jumped back and away from the predictable blow, but struggled to put up a magical barrier in time to stop the following blows from Grievous’ weapons.

Closing the gap between them in a single small bound, Grievous brought his lightsabers down upon Shining Armor as he landed.  But instead of hitting pony flesh, the blades recoiled off of a pinkish bubble that had formed around Shining Armor during Grievous’ leap.

The barrier had no give on impact, returning all of the force from the strong blow back to Grievous.  His hands wrenched and he stumbled back a step, but he retained hold of his weapons.  From within his protective bubble, Shining Armor gave the General a grin most unbefitting for the situation, as if he was trying to restain a heavy bout of laughter.

Needless to say, this only served to enrage Grievous further.

Stepping up to Shining Armor’s bubble, he pelted it with a frenzied flurry of strikes from his lightsabers, adding the occasional punch from his fists into the mix as well.  Painful screeching sounds came forth as the lightsabers ground against the magical barrier, as well as a fantastic light show.

Grievous pounded the bubble relentlessly, his blows pouring forth as quickly as he could muster them, which, thanks to his mechanical body, was exceptionally fast.  But despite his best efforts, Shining’s barrier refused to give.  In a desperate final attempt to break through Shining’s magic, he brought his fist back and prepared to throw the heftiest punch he was likely to ever throw.  With a howl, he launched his attack at the bubble.

And that was when Shining Armor finally made a move.  As the punch came towards his bubble, he expanded his bubble outwards, colliding it with Grievous’ fist earlier than the warlord had anticipated hitting it.  Grievous had poured all his strength into that blow, and it failed to damage the bubble at all.  Instead, the bubble took none of the force, sending it all back into Grievous’ arm, along with a little extra due to the momentum of its expansion.

His arm was left in ruins.  It much resembled the front of a vehicle after a head-on collision: the hand was busted and shattered, while the wrist and forearm experienced some major crumpling.

The wounded warrior pulled back and quickly spared a glimpse at the wreckage.  It was fortunate that he had spare limbs stowed away on the Superior; there was no way the simple toolkit he had on the surface was going to return it to even a useable state.

Shining Armor also allowed himself a second to admire the damage as his barrier dissipated.  He knew that his maneuver was going to cause some damage, but he certainly wasn’t expecting that.  While it was a small victory to incapacitate his assailant, it was also a testament to Grievous’ strength, and a warning to not let him close.

With renewed vigor, Grievous glanced back to his opponent, hatred burning in his eyes like a wildfire.  Holding his damaged limb behind his back to protect it from further damage, Grievous resumed his assault.  Utilizing his dexterity to the fullest, he stalked closer towards his query, swinging his lightsabers in an intimidating display of precise swordsmanship.

It was, however, just a show.  Once within striking range of Shining Armor, he lashed out with all his fury.  His blades danced about in front of him in fluid, graceful swings, but Shining Armor was quick to dodge them all, stepping back and leading them towards the end of the hall.

It wasn’t long before Grievous had pushed Shining Armor to the end of the hall, which was blocked off by a wall.  Grievous continued to push forward, and with nowhere to retreat, Shining Armor charged up a quick teleport.  He released it, narrowly avoiding a swing meant for his head, and appeared to Grievous’ side.

As he had hoped, Grievous was confused for a second, quickly glancing around to try to locate him.  That was all the time Shining Armor needed to create another shield, this one a bubble around one of the General’s wrists that happened to be holding a lightsaber.  Like Shining Armor had expected, the barrier caused Grievous’ hand to be cleanly severed off.  It and the weapon it once held clanged to the floor, the blade of the lightsaber vanishing by virtue of it no longer being wielded.

But, to Shining Armor’s dismay, Grievous was completely unfazed by the sudden loss of his appendage, and Shining Armor had unwittingly trapped himself between the hall’s lengthwise wall and the General.  Completely disregarding his missing hand, Grievous retaliated with an uppercut from his remaining armed arm.  Shining Armor had no room to dodge the attack and no time to prepare a teleport or shield.  He clenched his eyes shut and prepared himself for the humming blade of energy to slice him open.

Just as the weapon was about to make contact, there was a sharp twanging sound, followed by the sound of the weapon clattering to ground to the side of Shining Armor.  Grievous gave a disgruntled grunt, and both combatants looked to the weapon, Grievous with somehow more fury, and Shining Armor with utter confusion.

Simultaneously, they locked gazes with each other and resumed their fight.  The distraction caused by Grievous losing his weapon gave the captain ample time to return to a more advantageous position.

With his two remaining hands Grievous reached for his waist to arm himself with another pair of lightsabers, of which there were several there, but Shining Armor was quick to telekinetically grab them himself and throw them about the length of the hall.

That was the final straw for Grievous.  Any amount of calmness had escaped him by now, and he charged Shining Armor, roaring with all his fury.  His war cry did nothing to conceal his plan of attack, and Shining Armor had forewarning enough to muster a teleport back down the hall a ways.

Grievous, for his part, was quick to react to the new location of his target and continued to run at him, not tripping or stumbling at all.  In only a couple of seconds, he had reached Shining Armor’s position.  He lowered his shoulder in preparation of a tackle, running headlong into a rectangular barrier.  He flattened against it, but mercifully, unlike Shining Armor’s bubble, this one had the courtesy to be pushed back a couple of feet.  Or, at least it was courteous, until Shining Armor lifted the barrier above and behind him, bringing Grievous with it.

With the shield behind him, Shining Armor thrust it out like a spring, launching Grievous into the air towards the staircase.  Being sure to not give him time to create a soft landing for himself, Shining Armor disposed of the barrier and telekinetically grabbed Grievous, forcefully smashing him into the marble floor.  It cracked audibly, and it sounded like something on Grievous did, too.

Grievous was quick to recover, using his arms to lift himself off the broken floor.  He lifted his head, but was surprised to see a pair of soft, blue eyes looking into his own.  The eyes were accompanied by a tall, midnight blue pony with a horn and wings, whose starry mane flowed upon an ethereal wind.

“P-Princess Luna?” Shining stuttered behind him as Grievous rose to his feet.  “I, uh, didn’t see you there.  Are you hurt?”

“I am fine, Captain Armor, but our interplanetary diplomatic guest it not!” she replied harshly, pointing to Grievous’ broken arms and the large split that now ran down Grievous’ faceplate as a result from his vicious collision with the floor.  “I specifically instructed you to approach him civilly, not toss him about like a ragdoll!” she boomed in the royal Canterlot voice.

Shining Armor made as though to speak, but Luna cut him off.  “Do not speak, Captain.  Your fighting like foals is unacceptable behavior for the both of you.  Whatever reasons the two of you had for fighting, my sister and I shall discover and deal with them.”

She walked past Grievous, past Shining Armor, and to Grievous’ empty doorframe, inspecting the damage caused by their short brawl.  Aside from the door having been ruined, the walls and floor were lined with scorch marks from Grievous’ weapons.  Some of the banners had been sliced apart and fallen from their supports.

Both Grievous and Shining Armor followed the princess with their gazes as she went about her inspection, and as she approached the end of the hall, they all focused on the most curious bit of the skirmish’s aftermath.  Engraved into the brickwork as if by lightsaber blade rested initials that read: DC.  Resting on the ground nearby was the hilt of the lightsaber that Shining Armor recognized as the one that has been mysteriously launched from Grievous’ grip.

“This is most curious,” the princess remarked as she stepped away from the initials and back towards the staircase.  Using her magic, she floated all of Grievous’ lightsabers that had been strewn about behind her.  “However, it is more imperative that my sister and I find a way to get the two of you cooperating.  To the throne room, the both of you.”

Being the closest to the staircase down, Grievous took the lead, carefully making his descent down the sorely undersized steps.  Luna placed herself between him and the captain, while Shining Armor took the rear.




Interrupting the Day Court was something that Luna was usually reluctant to do.  Very rarely did a situation call for her to so blatantly disrespect her sister’s proceedings.  But, there were times, such as now, where it couldn’t be helped.

Gathered in front of the throne room was a veritable sea of nobleponies and other petitioners, all hoping to receive Celestia’s approval, or better yet, funding, for some personal project of theirs.

Or something like that; Luna had never paid much heed to the Canterlot nobles, and wasn’t fond of them enough to really pay attention to what it was they were trying to accomplish.

It was apparent, though, the Grievous was also not much into nobles.  As they neared the outskirts of the crowd, Grievous stooped to a more intimidating stance.  He let all four of his arms hang by his side as opposed to behind his back, which was seen to be typical of him.

Despite his recognition as a hero of sorts, the looks shared by the ponies that parted before him as they gazed upon his monstrous form were those of pure terror.  Luna couldn’t blame them; he was a terrifying sight to behold, and the battle scars from his fight with Shining likely only helped in making him appear more frightening.

On the bright side of it, though, no amount of yelling, or verbal communication of any form, was needed for a path to be formed so that the three of them could reach the throne room easily.  The pair of unicorn guards standing by the throne room’s massive doors straightened to a more rigid attention as the group of three of their superiors came near.  

“I require an audience with Celestia presently,” she announced to the pair.  They saluted, and one opened the door so the other could enter and inform Celestia.  A few seconds later, the guard returned, leading a disgruntled noble out of the room.  The door remained open for Luna and her party to enter.  Grievous entered first, with Shining Armor stepping around Luna to enter behind him.  Luna followed them after entrusting all of Grievous’ weapons to the guards.

“My sister, I sincerely apologize for intruding upon your court like this,” Luna apologized upon entering the room.  She passed between Grievous and Shining Armor, who had already approached the Princess’ dais, on her way to her sister’s side.  “However, circumstances requiring immediate attention have arisen between these two.”

Celestia was sitting in her throne, elegant as always, wearing a mostly neutral expression.  Mild concern could be seen on her face whenever she looked at Grievous’ injuries.  “Anypony care to explain what transpired?” queried Celestia to the three of them.

“I myself did not witness the entirety of the events,” Luna answered, seating herself in the small throne adjacent to her sister’s.  She looked to the two officers, continuing.  “I trust that these two should be able to provide an untwisted recounting of it.”

“Indeed,” Celestia agreed.  “Who cares to begin explaining?”

Grievous stepped forward.  “I will begin, your highness.”  Clasping his remaining hands behind his back, as was his typical stance, he began to recount his version of the events leading up to his fight with Shining Armor.  “I had received a report about the units that had been deployed to Applewood while assisting your Captain here with the training of the Guard’s higher officers.  Unfortunately, the developments required my immediate attention, so I left Shining Armor and his men alone to deal with it.  I returned to my room to establish a plan of action in response to the news I had received.”

Celestia raised a hoof to cut of Grievous, and he complied.  “Might you share these developments with me?  I would like to know what your plan is before it is set into motion.”

Nodding, Grievous answered, “Of course, I planned to consult with both you and my master before doing anything outside of my jurisdiction.  Contacting my master was of more immediate precedence, but I was going to consult with you afterwards and explain everything.”

“That is good of you, Grievous,” Celestia answered with a smile.  It quickly faded into a slight frown as she began a guess as to the events that had transpired.  “I assume, then, that you were consulting with your master -Dooku, was it?- when Shining Armor interrupted you, at which point there was a disagreement that turned violent.”

“Princess, if I may interject,” Shining Armor spoke up before Grievous could respond, “your guess is close, but know that Grievous was first to get violent, not I.”

“Captain,” Celestia said softly, turning to face him.  “Please, be respectful of our guest and do not speak out of turn.  You’ll have your say, but let Grievous have his.”  She returned her gaze to Grievous, prompting him to continue.

“The Captain is correct in saying that your guess is nearly accurate.  I was talking to my master, and our discussion turned towards the going-ons of the war.  Upon this turn, my master warned me that someone-” he looked to Shining Armor “-was eavesdropping.”  Grievous returned his attention to Celestia.  “I know not why he was coming to me, but he came, and I will admit, my aggressive tendencies got the better of me; I don’t appreciate being spied on.”

Both princesses managed to maintain a stoic expression as Grievous spoke.  Shining Armor, on the other hand, was struggling to suppress a scowl and a scoff.

“Shining Armor, do you have anything to say?” Celestia asked him suddenly, noting his expression.  He faintly nodded.  “Then speak; I believe I understand what happened.  I hope you can explain why.”

Shining Armor cleared his throat before confidently announcing, “Your highness, I have reason to believe that Grievous is not telling the complete truth, and that he has plans for Equestria.”

Celestia regarded him with a raised brow.  “On what evidence do you base these claims?”

“Based on what I heard said between Grievous and his master, and on observations made about his behavior.”

“You were eavesdropping, then, Captain?”

Shining looked around nervously.  “I-I...”  He hung his head.  “I was, your majesty.”  Looking back up to Celestia, he said, “But, with how loud Grievous was speaking, it was difficult to not overhear.”

“Regardless, Captain, it was rude and disrespectful of his privacy for you to do that without proper authorization or reason,” Celestia criticized.  “However, I will reserve my judgment for after you explain what you heard.”

“Right.  Well, I first heard him say something about his droids, but then he mentioned to ‘not ignore the threat I present’, following it up by effectively saying that I need to be eliminated.”

Luna finally spoke.  “Is this true, Grievous?”

“He speaks what I spoke, but has misinterpreted what I meant.”

“Did you hear any more, Captain?” inquired Celestia.

The Captain took a second to recall exactly what he had heard.  “Dooku replied, saying something about Grievous ‘dealing’ with me himself.  Then the two of them touched on the subject of some sort of plan that was set in motion by my being uncooperative with him.”

Beside him, Grievous chuckled lightly.  “Grievous?” Celestia asked.  “Have you anything to say about these claims?”

“I do, your majesty.”  Grievous turned to his adversary.  “Captain, you misinterpret what I say.  While what I said may sound like I intended harm, I assure you that harm is not the intent.  I am a military man, like yourself, and I am prone to using such terminology to illustrate my points.

“Our discussion did touch on you and the threat you are to our unified forces.  After all, no army can be effective if both of its leaders are feuding.  I simply wanted to approach you sometime in the future and clear all misunderstandings between us.”  Slowly, Grievous began to walk towards Shining Armor.  He reached a hand out towards him.  “Let us settle our differences civilly, and in the spirit of friendship.”

Shining Armor stared at Grievous’ outstretched hand in disbelief.  A speech like that was certainly not on the top of the list of things he was expecting the ferocious warlord to say.  But, he still did not trust him, and pushed away Grievous’ hand.  “I don’t trust you Grievous,” he stated simply.

Without a word, Grievous returned to his original spot.  “Was there anything else you want explained?” he calmly asked the three of them.

Luna spoke up.  “It was evident that weapons were used during your fight, presumably with lethal intent.  Explain what happened.”

“Like I said, when Shining Armor reached my door, my aggressive tendencies and paranoia got the best of me.  I grabbed him by the throat, pulled him into my room, and pointed my blaster to his head.  All I asked was for him to tell me what it was he heard, but he responded violently, throwing me into the opposite wall with his magic.”

“You could have tried to be less aggressive in the first place, Grievous,” Luna pointed out.

“I knew someone was there, but not who.  I had no way of knowing whether the eavesdropper was him, you, or a Republic spy.  I’d have reacted the same in any situation, but only would have turned hostile if there was any intent of assisting the Republic.”

Rolling his eyes, Shining Armor replied, saying, “Yeah, I’m sure it in no way had to do with your dislike of me.”

Ignoring him, Grievous continued to explain the fight.  “Once I was thrown out of the room, I prepared myself to fight for my life.  I was going to assume he was merely reacting to my abnormal greeting, but he continued to stalk towards me.”

“That’s not-”

“Silence, Captain,” Celestia commanded, more forcefully than before.  “You’ll have a chance to refute him, but be patient.”  Shining Armor scowled and looked away, but respected the order.

Again, Grievous continued as if he hadn’t even been interrupted.  “As he got near, I could tell he was not content just throwing me out of my room; he wanted more.  In self-defense, I readied my weapons and lashed out.  I wanted to escape, but he stood between me and the only exit, using a barrier to impede my progress.

“Growing ever fearful for my well-being, I fought against him even more aggressively, and he responded in kind.”  Shining’s scowl deepened.  “He continued to exploit his advantage, disarming me, severing my arm, and tossing me around.”  Looking down to his damaged limbs, he grumbled, “If Luna had not arrived at such an opportune moment, I likely would not have survived the encounter.”

That accusation pushed Shining Armor over the tipping point.  “That’s not true!” he yelled, marching towards Grievous, who backed away an equal distance in mock fear.

“Captain,” warned Celestia, but he disregarded her.

“You’re the one who attacked first!  You were trying to kill me, and you would have done so if I didn’t continue to press into you.”  Attempting to maintain the same distance between them, Grievous inadvertently got closer and closer to the wall behind him.  Once he was a few feet away, Shining Armor telekinetically shoved him against the wall and dragged him up it, leaving scratches on the ornate brickwork.

“You haven’t tricked me, Grievous.  I know you’re lying, and I’ll not stand by and let you continue to deceive anypony like you’re trying to do now.”  Grievous struggled futilely against his unrelenting grip.  ”I know you have ulterior motives for being here, and I’ll be sure to-UGH!”  A sharp pain passed through Shining Armor’s skull for a second as the pink aura that surrounded both his horn and Grievous turned yellow.  His forelegs gave out at the sudden pain, but he quickly righted himself as Grievous gently floated to the ground.

Both military leaders turned towards the princesses.  Luna wore a sad expression, while Celestia’s was that of pure rage directed towards Shining Armor.  “Enough, Captain!” she bellowed in the royal Canterlot voice.  Resuming with a more proper indoor voice, she continued.  “Control yourself; you appear to be just as volatile as you claim Grievous to be.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice weak.  “I-I didn’t mean to; I just got so angry, and I’ve been so stressed lately, and-”

“Evidently.  Perhaps you’ve been too stressed.”  She sighed, returning to a more neutral expression.  “Clearly, you need a break from military duties.”

Luna stated her agreement.  “Pack your personal belongings, Captain.  Tomorrow after your morning exercises, you are to return to your wife in the Crystal Empire.”

Nodding, Celestia focused on Grievous.  “You are not to disturb Shining Armor whilst he trains, understood?”  Grievous nodded in turn.  “Good; I don’t want there to be any more fighting between the two of you.”

“Who’ll take my place while I’m away?” Shining Armor asked.

“Grievous will,” Celestia answered, earning a groan from the Captain.  “No objections, Captain,” she warned.

Sighing, Shining Armor turned around and made for the doors.  “I best get packing, then, your highness.”  He opened the door, passed through, and slammed it behind him.

For a few seconds, the room’s three remaining occupants stared at the door in silence.  Finally, though, Celestia sighed and broke the ice.  “I am sorry about him, Grievous.  He was trained better; I don’t know why he lost control, and I hope you can forgive him for it.”

Facing Celestia, he merely grunted.

“Are you injured?” she asked concernedly.

“I am damaged, but I am not hurting.  However, my spare parts are still aboard the Superior, and I would ask that you permit me to shuttle them down tonight.”

“Permission granted, Grievous,” she answered.  “Now, there was something you wanted to consult me about?”

“Indeed,” he confirmed.  “Before being interrupted by Shining Armor, my master and I were discussing the best way to approach a recent development regarding the troops deployed to Applewood.  We’ve lost contact with said units, and we presume that they have been destroyed by a small group of clones.

“I’m preparing reinforcements aboard the Superior, a team of units double the size of the original force, to be deployed via shuttle to Applewood.  They will be ready to launch tonight and will arrive shortly after they depart, if you’re okay with taking such action.”

“If it’s what you see fit to do, then you have permission to do it,” said Celestia.  “Was that all?”

Grievous nodded.

“Very well.  I would very much like to continue my court, then.  Please, do your best to avoid further confrontations with Shining Armor.  You’re on the same side.”

Bowing, Grievous replied, saying, “I will try, but I cannot guarantee anything, your highness.”  Standing, he made his way out of the room, pushing open the door and closing it softly behind him.

After giving her sister a gentle farewell Luna followed suit, leaving Celestia alone to deal with her conflicting thoughts.  That was, at least, until the Day Court resumed.




Slamming the door to his quarters behind him, Shining Armor angrily stomped his way to his bed.  From underneath it, he procured a slim black suitcase, in which he began placing the few personal belongs that he brought with him whenever he was being housed away from his actual home in the Crystal Empire.

In a matter of minutes, his suitcase had been neatly filled with a variety of things ranging from quills and ink pots to framed pictures and personal documents.  Done packing, he trotted over to his desk on the opposite side of the room and cleared space for him to begin writing some letters.

The first note he wrote was addressed towards his wife, informing her that he would be returning home to her earlier than expected, after taking a brief detour to catch up with his sister.  Being short in nature, the message was written up and ready to be mailed within a couple of minutes.  Promptly, he began writing out a second note, this one to Twilight, and this one significantly more explanatory.


Dear Twily,

Hey sis, how’ve you been doing?  Hopefully better than I have; dealing with Grievous and the princesses have gotten a bit...tense.  You see, we sort of got in a fight.  A physical one.  And Grievous’ weapons were involved.

Fortunately (or perhaps not), Luna intervened before either of us killed the other.  After the fight had been broken up, the princesses, Grievous, and I had a discussion, and amidst that discussion, I snapped and attacked Grievous without proper provocation.

Thus, effective tomorrow, I will be temporarily relieved of my position, and command of the guard will go to Grievous.  I’m to return to the Crystal Empire, but I would like to make a stop in Ponyville to catch up with you and your friends, if you’ll have me.

Love you, Twily,

Shiny


He glanced over the note, double-checking to make sure it said everything he wanted it to say.  Content with what he had written, he rolled up each letter and bound them both with an official seal.  His horn glowed fiercely as he charged up a mailing spell.  The letters crumbled to dust as he released the spell, and a separate current of wind carried the remains of each letter out of the room’s open window and to their respective destinations.

With a defeated sigh, Shining Armor moved away from his desk and flopped onto his bed.  It hadn’t occurred to him until just then how worn from his fight with Grievous he was; each nasty blow that he had either blocked or avoided had managed to steal away a generous bit of his energy.  A wave of exhaustion swept over the Captain, and he decided to let himself rest and hope that the day hadn’t been real, but rather just a bad and frighteningly realistic dream.
> Chapter 12: Live and Let Spy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~~Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, 3 days and 17 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~




For Princess Luna, the day had been wearying, having had to deal with the fight between Shining Armor and Grievous.  It was about the time of night when Luna resigned herself to her chambers.  Along the way, she made a conscious effort to avoid Shining Armor’s quarters, as well as the Captain himself, if he were to show himself.  Her sullen walk led her through the hall in which her room resided, which still bore much of the carnage  resulting from the earlier feud.

Grievous had offered his droids’ services in repairing the damage done.  There weren’t any in the hall presently, as Celestia was sleeping, and Grievous didn’t want to disturb her.  Nonetheless, the droids had made some progress since the offer had been made, having taken down all of the banners that had been in close proximity to the fight and removing most of the floor tiles that had been damaged in some form.

That was some expensive marble, too.  Even with labor covered, repairs would still be costly.  Putting up with Grievous was seeming like more trouble than it was worth.

With a dejected sigh, Luna shoved aside the door to her room, which had miraculously escaped harm, and entered, gaze fixed on the floor in front of her.  As she kicked off her elegant hoofwear, she failed to notice the unwelcome guest lazily sprawled on her sizeable bed.

“What’s wrong, Lulu?  You seem sad.”

Startled, Luna yelped, jumping back into the door and slamming it shut.  Her guest chuckled, and she affixed her gaze to his serpentine form.  “Discord,” she grumbled, her surprised eyes forming into a glare.  “Firstly, what are you doing in my chambers, let alone on my bed?  And secondly, don’t call me ‘Lulu’.”

Discord shifted over to the far side of her bed.  “Now, dear Luna, don’t be rash.  I mean you no harm by being atop your bed.”  He patted the spot beside him.  “Come join me; we need to have a discussion.”

“Get off my bed, and I’ll consider talking to you,” she replied, stepping towards him threateningly.

Releasing a dramatic sigh, Discord responded.  “Please, Luna, be reasonable.  There’s no reason we can’t have a nice, relaxing chat on your nice, relaxing bed.”

She groaned in frustration, but gave up arguing.  Delicately, she climbed up onto her bed, keeping to about the center of her side of the bed and laying back onto her soft, plush pillows.  She was far from relaxed, though.  Instead, her body was tensed, and she had several spells at the ready to launch at the tricky draconequus if he were to try anything funny.

With a relaxed sigh, Discord snuggled in place next to her, putting his arms behind his head.  “See, isn’t this nice?” he asked her.  “Now, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

“It was you who wished to talk to me,” Luna snapped.

Putting a talon to his chin, he said, “Oh, yes, quite.  Well, perhaps we can start this conversation off like that last one with you guessing the topic?”

“Grievous?”

“Ugh, no,” Discord said, brushing at his tongue as if he were trying to wipe away a bad taste.  “That thing’s been all anypony’s talked about for the past three days.  And you know me; I like to keep things ever-changing.  I was hoping that we could talk about you.”

Luna grunted and turned her head so that she was facing away from him.  “Hmph.  What about me could you possibly want to discuss?”

“I am quite surprised you’re laying on this bed with me right now,” said Discord, seemingly randomly.  Luna turned to face him, cocking her brow in confusion.  “It’s actually somewhat disappointing.”

“Explain.”

“Luna, my dear, you’ve always been my favorite between you and your sister,” he elaborated, attempting to lay a friendly arm on her shoulder, which she promptly swatted away.  Discord smiled.  “You had attitude, personality, emotion...those are things that Celestia doesn’t seem to have.  You had no problem contesting Celestia before, when you didn’t agree with her.”

Mildly annoyed, Luna said, “To what time are you referring by saying ‘before’?”

With a snap of his talon, the curtains on the nearby window were pulled open, allowing the radiance of the night’s full moon to shine into the room.  The rays of moonlight landed directly on Luna, illuminating her features with a soft shimmer.  Luna got the hint.

“Since your return to your beautiful self, you’ve been...different,” Discord continued, his tone growing somber.  “Whatever happened to the wonderful mare who hated me so much way back when?  The mare who could tell when Celestia made a mistake, and the mare who would stop at nothing to fix it?”

Discord was staring intently at her, his expression uncharacteristically serious.  She shifted under his critical gaze, averting her attention elsewhere as she contemplated his words.  With a sigh, she responded, “That mare has learned from the mistakes of her own that Celestia should not be questioned.  More often than not, her choices are correct.”  A single tear rolled down her cheek.  “I’ve already paid a millennium separated from my dear sister due to my poor choices.  I won’t let that happen again.”

Frowning, Discord stated his rebuttal.  “So that’s it?  You’re not even going to try to inform Celestia of your disagreement?  You’re going to let her façade of infallibility continue?”

“I trust my sister, even though I disagree with her.”

“That's incredibly contradictory, dear Luna.  She’s placed Equestria in grave danger.  You’ve sensed it; I know it; Shining Armor’s seen it; I think there’s plenty of support for your case.”

“I...I...I’ll not confront my sister,” she declared sadly.  “I won’t risk our separation again.”  Suddenly, she whipped her head in Discord’s direction, glaring at him.  “Why don’t you inform Celestia about your objections?  From your own words, there’s plenty of support for your case.”

“Me?” Discord asked rhetorically, pointing to himself dramatically.  “And why in Equestria would Celestia listen to me?  She only lets me free as a courtesy, not because she actually wants me to not be immobilized for the remainder of eternity.  And I’d be willing to bet that any type of resistance against her by me would result in me being recast into stone.”

“Celestia is a reasonable mare,” Luna defended.  “No matter how much I wish she’d have you petrified again, she wouldn’t do so just because you present to her your opinion.”

“So tell me: if that’s the case, then why are you so unwilling to present to her your opinion?” His grin was wide, expression smug; Luna had been cornered by her own words.  Victory was imminent.

“Because I...because I…” she said, looking about nervously.  More tears broke out, though she didn’t sob.  “Because I don’t trust that that’s true, and I don’t want to take the risk,” she admitted, finally losing her composure.

Discord recoiled for a moment, not expecting that reaction at all.  But, seeing Luna in distress, he gently patted her on the back.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I’ll leave before I cause any more harm.”

And he did.  But the harm was done.

~~~Main Street, Ponyville, 4 days and 7 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~




For a few minutes now, Spy, Rainbow Dash, and their small escort of droids, one of whom was holding Spy’s confiscated helmet and weapons, had been diligently marching down the dirt path towards the populated area of Ponyville.  Applejack had gone directly to her home instead of accompanying her friend, which was completely understandable, as she had eight disabled droids scattered about her barn that needed to be taken care of.

Since then, Spy and Dash had not said a word, the pegasus looking a little upset as she hovered alongside the clone.  Like the droids had said, their destination was the town’s train station, which meant that they would need to traverse directly through the town.  He hoped that he wouldn’t garner too much attention.

However, the droid hadn’t said that he wasn’t allowed to speak.  Bored as he was, he tried to start a conversation with his grumpy companion as they passed into Ponyville proper.  “Dash, you’re not looking too friendly,” he teased with a smirk.  “What’s got you down?”

Rainbow Dash scoffed.  “Ugh, you sounded just like Pinkie for a second.  You want to know what’s got me down?” she asked, crossing her forelegs and turning away.  “You do.  You probably scared the feathers off of Fluttershy, scarred Pinkie and AJ for life, and personally threatened me.  I think I’ve got plenty of reason to not look too friendly.”

“You gotta see, though,” he tried to explain, “that I did it all to try to avoid ending up in the situation we’re in now.”

“And look how that turned out,” Dash criticized.

Spy was about to argue, but a solid smack to his back from the droid behind him cut him off.  Fortunately for the clone, his armor made the blow nothing more than a painless shove, but he nonetheless shot the droid an annoyed look as it commanded him to be silent.  There was no room for him to object, though, so he complied.

By now, the small group had made its way further into town, but thankfully hadn’t reached anywhere that was particularly populated.  They passed a few individuals, who all glanced and stared at the clone curiously, but had avoided any big crowds.  This fortune, however was not to last, as the station was on the complete opposite side of the town, meaning that they would be forced to pass through the marketplace.

As they neared the market, the streets got more and more dense with civilians, who all regarded the group with mixed emotions.  Some especially curious onlookers opted to follow, quickly making the simple escort business a bigger scene that it really should have been or needed to be.

Ponies in groups began to whisper among themselves, evidently about them.  Spy could have sworn that he heard ‘Rainbow Dash’ mentioned a couple of times by ponies who had trouble keeping their volume low, and was sure that rumors were beginning to form.

He looked over to his colorful acquaintance with an apologetic look.  “I think rumors are forming,” he said softly to her.  He was about to apologize in advance for possibly tarnishing any reputation she had, but was again silenced by the droid behind him, who reaffirmed that he was to not speak.  And so he didn’t.

Eventually, the escort had made its way to the edge of noisy market.  It was a large area that would have been open if not for the large array of stalls and stands scattered about it, the owners of which were trying their best to peddle their wares.  The place was sufficiently busy, the crowds of customers thick enough to be a nuisance for anyone who was simply trying to pass through.  Dotted throughout the crowd were about a half dozen droids, each standing around -appearing comically out of place amongst the colorful sea of short beings surrounding them, Spy might add- and keeping watch for anything regarding a Republic presence.  Thinking back, Spy had seen a few droids lining the streets they had gone down, but hadn’t paid them  any mind.

Although they had just then reached the edge of the market, the group had already gathered much attention.  The clone’s presence was known throughout the entirety of the crowd in a matter of moments.  Everything seemed to fall silent as the ponies all stopped to watch the alien.  Almost all looked upon him with some level of curiosity, understandable, and a large portion of them also looked upon him with fear.  Also understandable.  Only one pair of eyes seemed to regard him with something less hostile, those eyes belonging to a mint green unicorn who was making its way through the crowd towards them.

Despite the quantity of bodies, the droids would not reduce their pace.  They pushed through, the crowd backing away and forming a path of sorts for them, leading to the other side of the market.  As Spy passed by the great multitude of ponies, he began to wilt under their scrutinizing gazes.  He tried his best to appear more friendly than his situation would care to proclaim, putting on a charismatic but ultimately faux smile.

If anything, the façade served only to make things more uncomfortable and tense.  It was a poor impression he was making, indeed.  But if these things were going to be his captors, he was at least going to try his best to appeal to them.

“Hello!” he called out to them in a tone that verged on mockery despite his best efforts to sound genuine.  Whispers broke out among the members of the crowd, and even Rainbow Dash eyed him skeptically.  To Spy, though, the quiet whispers were much more preferable than the awkward silence that had pervaded them before, and he made to continue with a ‘how are you?’

The droid behind him, however, intervened before he could speak the second word, reasserting its command of silence.  This time, however, the droid’s elbow hit not Spy’s back, but rather the back of Spy’s exposed neck.  With nothing to cushion the impact, the full force of the nasty blow cracked against his flesh.

The crowd gasped.

The clone stumbled.  He tripped and fell.  His hands, bound behind his back, were unable to help prevent him from falling face-first to the ground.  The wind was knocked out of him, and he could have sworn that the universe, just to spite him, had a conveniently placed rock for him to smash his forehead against.

With both sides of his head throbbing, Spy expressed his discomfort with a groan, but the droids would not relent.  The same droid that had pelted his neck had the audacity to kick his downed form.  “Up,” it commanded, as if that was something Spy could just do despite his hurt and his bindings.

Spy struggled to bring his knees underneath him so that he could rise.  But he was too slow for the droid’s patience, and it kicked him again once he had gotten to his knees, causing him to topple onto his side.  “Up,” it commanded of him again, aiming its weapon at him to accentuate that it was in no mood for games.

To Spy’s relief, the pain in his head had begun receding, but he still had the issue of his bound hands to complicate the process of standing again.  As he maneuvered his knees under him again, he felt something begin to pull him up from his back.  Looking over his shoulder, he saw Rainbow Dash grabbing onto the back of his armor.  He flashed her a grateful grin and began to stand.

Then, there was another set of hooves helping steady him as he rose.  He glanced down to see the mint green unicorn that he had explicitly noticed beforehand.  Its help was a little late, but he nonetheless smiled in gratitude towards it.

Now on his feet, the droid barked another order.  “Move,” it demanded, prodding him in the back with its blaster.  And he complied, not wanting to be anymore of a disturbance.  The group made it out of the market without further incident, additionally losing all those who had been trailing them before.  Only the unicorn followed them now.

“Wait!” it called to the droids in a feminine voice, but they ignored her.  Rainbow Dash didn’t, though, and she immediately engaged the unicorn.

“Lyra?  What do you want?”

The pony named Lyra caught up to the droid behind Spy.  “I want to talk to the clone, but I don’t want the clone to be hit for speaking back.”

Rainbow just shrugged, going along with it.  “Yeah, that was totally uncool,” she said to the droids.  “As much as we don’t like this guy, you didn’t need to club him over the head for talking.  Let the guy speak.”

The droid said, “Roger, roger,” and nothing more.

“Um...thanks, you guys, for helping me up back there?” Spy said softly, bracing himself for an impact that never came.

When the droid didn’t hit him, Spy visibly relaxed, and Lyra moved to be by his side.  “You’re not Slum, are you?” she asked him.

In response, he confusedly cocked a brow.  “No, I’m Spy...do you know someone named Slum?”

“I do,” she said hopefully. “You wouldn’t happen to know him, would you?”

“This is a clone we’re talking about, right?” he queried, mildly baffled.  That became extremely baffled when Lyra confirmed that.  “That contact’s been made with your kind already is news to me,” Spy admitted to Lyra.  “I don’t know any clones named Slum, but if I run into one, I’ll send him your way.”

Lyra’s ears drooped in disappointment.  “Oh...I was hoping I might see him again, but I guess I may have to wait longer.  Sorry to be a bother.”  Without waiting for a reply from Spy, she sauntered off back in the direction of the market.

Both he and Rainbow followed Lyra with their gazes until she was out of sight, then looked to each other and shared a ’well that was weird’ shrug.  But they had no time to dwell further on it.  The station was close upon them, and thus so was their meeting with Celestia.

Reaching the platform in due time, Spy’s entourage finally got to what he guessed was the train.  It was a primitive looking thing, appearing to run on steam power and run on wheels mounted on track.  All of which was uncommon, but not unheard of, in his galaxy.

Additionally, the train itself and all of the cars were designed to look like they were all little gingerbread houses.  It was completely absurd and feminine, he thought, but so long as it functioned for pony society, he really had nothing to complain about.

Speaking of ponies, as he looked about the platform, he saw dozens of ponies and their luggage standing behind lines of droids.  The members of the crowd were shouting and giving glares to the droids that were keeping them away from the train.  There was another droid standing by the engineer in the locomotive.  All evidence pointed to the droids having commandeered the train that they were about to use.

As the group passed the crowds of dissatisfied ponies, their anger began being directed towards the clone.  While it was the droids that were inconveniencing them, the ponies obviously knew that ultimately, Spy was responsible for their delay.  Sighing dejectedly, he tried his best to ignore them and fit into the undersized passenger car that had been ‘prepared’ for him.

After squeezing through the small door in the front of the car, a droid followed him in and shoved him into a seat near the middle.  The droid then passed him, stooping to accommodate its height, and established a position behind him.

Rainbow Dash was brought in next, surprisingly receiving a treatment similar to his, although he would have swapped out ‘shoving’ for ‘gently pushing’.  The droid seated her in the seat directly across the aisle from him, then the droid followed the previous one to a spot behind the two sentient beings.

Another droid entered, this one holding Spy’s effects, though this one stayed near the front, though it had to adjust so that the car’s final occupant-to-be, a lumbering super battle droid, could enter.  The super battle droid had to awkwardly crouch in order to fit in the car, but it did so, occupying the aisle a few seats in front of the clone and his companion.  It made sure to face the two of them and have its weapon on standby in case Spy did anything suspicious.

Being bound and without his helmet or weapons, Spy found the amount of security to be a bit much.  He scoffed as he leaned back as much as he comfortably could in the inadequately sized seat, but otherwise remained silent.  Rainbow Dash acted similarly, leaning in her seat and staring out the window, staying silent herself.  Everyone situated, the train lurched forward, slowly getting up to speed and finally getting its precious cargo en route to Canterlot.




The first leg of the trip had passed, leaving the train at the base of the mountain that Canterlot jutted out from.  For that duration, the car was eerily quiet.  The droids, being droids, had no real need to verbally communicate except when addressing something that couldn’t telecommunicate.  Both Spy and Rainbow Dash occupied their time looking out the windows of the train car, which obviously warranted no need for the droids to speak to them.

A vast and rolling plains bridged the space between Ponyville and the base of Canterlot mountain.  It was a boring view, but at least it changed enough to hold Spy’s interest.  However, as the second leg of the trip progressed and the train ascended the mountainside, Spy got a good bird's eye view of the plains and of Ponyville.  The view changed so slowly, though, that it failed to occupy the clone.

At least, though, he didn’t get Rainbow’s side of the car.  Her view was simply the grey stone of the mountain.  She had her forelegs crossed over her chest and wore a grumpy expression, likely due to her lack of view.

With the outside world no longer interesting Spy, he let his mind wander, noting how bored he was, considering the curious aspects of his current situation.  Glancing at the super battle droid which had remained unmoving, he idly wondered if droids experienced boredom.  Perhaps it was something to ask R8 of.  That is, if he were to even see the stubby little astromech and his squad again.

What had become of them, he wondered.  Taking and subsequently wrecking the only remaining speeder that was available to them had probably compromised them.  They were probably dead or dying in some forest between the site of Moon’s death and Ponyville, and it was ultimately his fault.  Then he had to go and stumble across the pony sitting across from him, threaten her and her friend Applejack at gunpoint, and then further get himself publicly abused by droids.

Whatever name he could have had on this world was completely tarnished now.  He screwed up.  A lot.  There was a lot to apologize for, and a lot of people to apologize to.  He didn’t expect to live much longer, to be honest, in the company of these droids, so if there was anything left he wanted to do, he had better get on it quickly.  And the means to get started was sitting right across from him.

He sighed sadly, leaning his head on the window.  “Hey, Dash -do you mind if I call you Dash?”  The super battle droid seemed to tense a bit.

“What?” she grumbled, fixated on her own window.

“Thanks.”

She turned to him, confused.

“Thanks for sticking up for me at the market,” he continued.  “Means a lot to a meaningless shabii like myself.  Most people don’t care about what kinds of mistreatment clones are put through; it’s nice to know that morals like that still exist in the universe.”

“Uh…” she started awkwardly.  “Well, I don’t like you at all, but you didn’t deserve to be beat up like that.”

He smiled, but kept it hidden from Rainbow Dash.  “Also, thanks for giving me this opportunity to...not get killed immediately.  It’s a sort of second chance, I suppose, and I should use that time, however limited, to try to redeem myself for my stupid mistakes.”

“You’re...welcome?”  She wasn’t exactly comfortable with the clone pouring himself out like he was; these types of mushy things weren’t her strong suit.  But, she allowed him to continue uninterrupted.

“And, since you’re here, I might as well start off by apologizing for what I did to you and your friends.”  Finally, he turned to her, adorning a sad smile.  “I sincerely hope that my actions haven’t affected them negatively, especially my actions towards you and Applejack.  Please understand that I’ve been forced through a bit much over the past few days, and I was only acting out of self preservation, not out of any hate towards you, your friends, or heck, even the droids.”

Rainbow considered his words for a moment.  “I’m not ready to say that I forgive you yet, but if what you’ve said is true, and if you haven’t hurt my friends, I might consider it.”

In return, Spy looked out his window again, casting a hopeful glance towards the sun.  “It’s the most I could have asked for,” he said softly.




After his apology, the air between him and Rainbow seemed to relax significantly, and they managed to engage in some brief conversation completely unrelated to their situation.  Most notably, Spy had asked her about herself, and she had relayed to him her self-proclaimed title of Fastest Flyer in Equestria, as well as her dreams of becoming a Wonderbolt, that she was an Element of Harmony (though she failed epically to describe what that actually meant), and other small bits of ego-stroking information.

Their conversation had just started to get on the topic of Rainbow’s weather duties when it was cut short.  Looking out the window, they could see they were actually in Canterlot now, meaning the station was no more than a minute away.  Upon realizing that he had failed to inquire about Princess Celestia, he mentally berated himself, something he found he had been doing a lot recently, and steeled himself for whatever lay ahead of him.

Seconds later, the train began to decelerate and ground to a halt in front of the station.  The platform, like that of Ponyville, was blocked off to the public by a line of droids and armored ponies, obviously keeping it clear so that they could be quick in getting Spy and Dash to the Princess.

Getting out of the car in the reverse order of how they got in, Spy had a moment to stretch to the best of his incapacitated abilities before the droids roughly shoved him in the direction of the magnificent castle that loomed over the city.

The same droids that had come with them on the train now escorted Spy and Dash through the glistening town, though a few ponies with spears joined in on the fun.  Unlike Ponyville, which felt very rural and humble, this place was extremely pompous and boastful.  Many buildings were carved of a white marble that glimmered brightly in the light of the now descending sun.  Corners were gilded whenever possible, and statues of various ponies lined the important streets.  It very much felt like the capital of a monarch.  Rightly so, considering that it was.

However, despite the obvious wealth and class difference between the residents of Ponyville as compared to Canterlot, the ponies still reacted to him the same.  Anger as he stepped off the train, then fearful and curious stares as he passed them on the streets.  Learning from his incident in the Ponyville market, Spy remained quiet as the droids led him through Canterlot, keeping his gaze focused ahead of him.

The walk to the castle was a short one, fortunately.  They reached the main gate, being met with a pair of unicorn guards, a pair of magna guards, and a pair of destroyer droids, which were for now rolled into their wheel forms.  Wordlessly, the horns on the guards began to glow, along with the oversized wooden doors, and they swung open of their own accord.

It was an amazing feat to behold for Spy, though the guards and Rainbow Dash seemed to make nothing of it.  But the droids refused to give him a chance to slow down and gawk, shoving him through the portal and bringing him through the grand but vacant hallways to the throne room.

~~~Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, 4 days and 2 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~




Just like the previous day, Captain Armor had awoken early, taken care of his morning hygienic duties, and met with his fellow officers in the castle’s training grounds to commence with the new morning routine.  And, just like the previous day, Grievous was there, too, again overseeing the session, though he kept a respectable distance away and said nothing to him.  Understandably so; the two of them weren’t exactly on speaking terms.

During the night, Grievous had had all the damage that Shining had done to him the previous day repaired, and had gone as far as to have his undamaged, faded parts of his body wiped down to match the new parts’ cleanliness.  The oranges and pinks of the rising sun seemed to shimmer off of Grievous’ cleaned form, giving him an almost holy shimmer in the morning light.

Or unholy, depending on the point of view of the one judging Grievous.

At least, though, the warlord wasn’t directly getting on the Captain’s nerves, and he was able to focus on his dealings with his troops, and ensuring that this session, the final one he’d have with the guard for likely quite a long while, was the most intense and beneficial he could make it.




Grievous watched the Captain work with his troops for a while into their routine.  The ponies were showing signs of fatigue early into their drills, which was a disappointing sight, but justified nonetheless in the scheme of things.  They had, after all, faced down an invasion force not three days prior, then had been awoken and made active early in the morning of every day following that, and Grievous himself had likely made a few -or all of them, for that matter- rather sore with their sparring the previous day.

As he had said to the Captain before, he wasn’t unreasonable.  He could excuse the troops’ poor performance this once, given the circumstances.  But just this once.  Shining Armor would be out of his way after the session, and Grievous was going to whip the whelps into shape as soon as the Captain was no longer around to object.

He was about to consider the exercises he would put the ponies through for the duration of his command when a light tapping clinked off his thigh.  Looking down, he found Princess Celestia standing next to him, looking up to him with a warm, friendly smile.  “Good morning, Grievous,” she greeted, dropping formalities.  “I thought I might find you here.”

“What do you want, Princess?” Grievous asked, not returning her politeness.

Her smile waned, but she otherwise excused his disrespect.  “If I may be straightforward, Grievous, today is my day off, so to speak, and I was hoping to spend some time with you and get to know you better.”

“Day off?” he asked, giving her as quizzical a look as his rather expressionless faceplate could yield.

She nodded lightly.  “Luna is just as much the ruler of Equestria as I am, but sadly, our subjects aren’t as receptive of that fact as they used to be after the incident with the Mare in the Moon.  To help her integrate and to help the public get comfortable with her again, we’ve agreed to let her operate the Day Court once a week, with more duties being returned to her as soon as everypony’s more receptive.”

“I see,” Grievous said.  “Unfortunately, Princess, there are clones running amok in your kingdom, there are droids that need to be monitored and managed, and I need to create an agenda for the Guard for when I take command.  I have no time to take you up on your offer.”

To his surprise, Celestia let out a small giggle.  “It’s amusing how similar to Twilight you can be at times,” she joked, quickly returning to a more serious tone.  “But honestly, Grievous, there is plenty of time left in the day and night for you to address those.  For now, though, take advantage of what Equestria has to offer you as its guest.  Maybe you’ll gain a new appreciation for what you’re protecting if you were to actually partake in it.”  A sly grin crossed her muzzle.  “Oh, and that’s not a request; that’s an order.”

Grievous sighed, begrudgingly accepting the fact that, for now, Celestia was his superior and that he was to follow her orders, however unusual.  He turned to follow Celestia, who was herself making towards a nearby exit for the yard they were in.  “I will set those duties aside for time being, then, but only because you command it.”  That was a lie, of course; he was going to continue to communicate with his scattered forces and with the Superior, but Celestia didn’t need to know that, so he said nothing more as he followed the happy princess.




The first thing she insisted on doing with Grievous that morning was show him around the gardens.  He had spent pretty much the entirety of each night in the gardens, as there was a large flat area that Celestia permitted to be be the landing zone for Grievous’ shuttles, but he hadn’t once stopped to actually look at the flora or statues that dotted the grounds.

At least, he hadn’t until now, as Celestia was insistent on sharing each sculpture with him, explaining what it depicted, what it meant, and her personal ties to the subject, if there were any.  The statues ranged from figures of previous Guard Captains, which were obviously made in remembrance of them, to ones made more with imagery in mind, such as one depicting a mare holding an orange flag, which somehow represented victory.  He felt that having some Huk corpses laying about the heroic figure would have gotten the message across more clearly, but that was just him.

While he could certainly appreciate the arts, Grievous had never had an extended attention span for them.  He could do about an hour’s worth of appreciation before beginning to lose interest.  However, Celestia’s tour lasted beyond that, reaching the one and a half hour mark before he could finally see the end of the trail, which formed a loop around the garden.  It had been quite a struggle for him to keep from expressing his disinterest and discontent, and he didn’t want to disrespect the Princess now by doing so.  He sucked it up and approached the second to last statue in the loop.

“This statue represents friendship,” Celestia explained as Grievous lazily looked it over.  It portrayed, quite simply, three foals, each leaping over each other in a stack, and going in alternating directions.  He could almost see the three rambunctious foals he had been introduced to -Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo were their names, right?- doing just as the statue depicted.  For all he knew, the statue could have been modeled after those three.  It was an amusing thought.

“The imagery should be plainly obvious,” Celestia stated, to which Grievous agreed.  “However, I do believe that you’ll enjoy this last one the best,” she said, making her way to the final statue.

For the most part, all of the statues had had at least some sense of order, familiarity, or obvious imagery associated with it.  This one didn’t.  It seemed to be a statue of a creature composed of the parts of many other creatures.  It sat cross-legged on its raised pedestal, arms folded in its lap, expression disapproving.  Most disconcerting, though, were its eyes, which, though stone, seemed to follow Grievous’ position to constantly give him its pointed glare.

Of course, he could have just been seeing things, hallucinating out of boredom.  To ensure that he wasn’t, he moved around the statue, pacing and ducking to avoid its stare.  But its eyes still followed.

Noticing Grievous’ peculiar behavior, Celestia picked up a sizable rock from nearby and pelted it at the statue. Its eyes were momentarily fixated on Celestia in response, then went back to Grievous.  “And finally, Grievous, we have this statue, which is Discord.  Discord is the spirit of chaos and disharmony, a powerful being and a troublemaker.  Recently, he has discovered the magic of friendship and has since been freed of his stone prison and been permitted to live in the castle.  For some reason, though, he spends most of his time here, trapped in stone of his own accord.”  She put a hoof to her chin.  “You know, Discord,” she said, actually addressing the statue, “I don’t think you’ve bothered to talk to me since we worked out your parameters the day you were reformed.”

In response, the statue -no, Discord- scoffed, but produced no sound.  The words on the plaque mounted on his pedestal changed, shifting until they read: Leave me alone, Celestia.  She looked to him warily, but otherwise honored his request, leading Grievous out of the gardens and back into the castle.

“Discord can be random, unpredictable, and a bit much to handle,” she told him as they traveled down a hallway to somewhere; Grievous didn’t know.  “Even so, one can usually expect him to be talkative and rather light-spirited.  I don’t know what it is that has him acting like that...but ignoring him, did you enjoy the gardens?”


“They were...interesting,” he answered, trying his best to keep his answer rather neutral despite having found the entire thing a waste of time.  It was enough to satisfy Celestia, though.

“I could tell that you had lost interest part-way through.  I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable; I just wanted to share some of our culture with you.  Let me make it up to you with something you may enjoy a bit more.”




With a smug smirk, Celestia brought her rook clear across the board, capturing Grievous’ bishop.  She claimed the piece, putting it to the side of the board, unwittingly having fallen into Grievous’ trap.  From a mass of his own pieces, he whipped out his knight, capturing her final rook.  Furthermore, “Check.”

Celestia was right; chess was something he would enjoy more.  Being the military man he was, a strategy game such as chess matched well with his skill set, and did wonders easing some his built-up tension from the past days.

Of course, he was still susceptible to the occasional blunder.  From elsewhere on the board, Celestia brought her queen over to take the knight.  “Checkmate,” she said calmly.  And she was correct.  Moving his knight had unveiled a diagonal path from its position to his king, which was blockaded in every other direction by his own pieces, none of which could block the queen or capture it.

With a sigh, he admitted defeat, splitting his arms and using all four hands to quickly set the board up for another game.  Celestia, meanwhile, took the time to move all her plates, cups, and silverware into an easily manageable pile to the side.

That had been the fifth game and the tie-breaker round for them.  After bringing Grievous inside from the gardens, Celestia had begun feeling a little hungry, and it was nearing a good time for a midday meal, which she invited Grievous to as a courtesy.  Of course, knowing he didn’t eat, she had a chess set brought in so that he could be occupied while she satisfied her biological requirements.

“That was a close match and an excellent game, Grievous,” she complimented the disheartened General.  “However, that will be it from me for now.”

Grievous nodded and began returning the chess components to their container.  He couldn’t help feeling like a child as he cleaned up, and he could see that Celestia thought the same.  His thoughts idly wandered back to the comment Celestia had made when he had gotten his hands on the toolkit for his damaged hand and had called his childlike mannerisms ‘cute’, and to the way her face reddened as she said that, just as it was now.

Some servants entered the hall as Grievous placed the final pieces in their respective spots and closed up the set’s wooden container.  They came and took the Princess’ dirty eating utensils and the chess set.  “Give the chef my thanks when you see him,” Celestia said to them as they made to leave, having quickly returned to her normal shade.  “He did an excellent job again, as always.”  With polite nods, the servants exited.

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, Celestia content to just be there and let her stomach settle, while Grievous was eager to be dismissed and return to his normal business.  He was about to voice his request, but Celestia spoke before him.  “Grievous, before I dismiss you,” she began, as if she had read his mind, “I have one thing that I want to talk with you about.”

Grievous groaned quietly, but otherwise let her continue uninterrupted.

“When you first came into our throne room, you seemed to have some knowledge of my sister and I.”  She leaned forward in her seat, crossing her forelegs on the table in an extremely casual manner.  “Tell me: how did you learn about us without actually having come down?”

“What makes you certain we didn’t come down?”

“Somepony somewhere would have seen something suspicious,” she answered confidently, confidence that made Grievous laugh in a way which verged on being condescending.

Grievous shook off his laughter and replied.  “The truth is, we did come down.  I sent remote probes from my ship in space throughout Equestria to monitor it and check for Republic activity.”  Mimicking Celestia, Grievous crossed his now combined arms on the table in front of him and leaned in towards the Princess.  “Through these probes, I learned a good amount about your society, the most relevant pieces being who you and your sister are, as well as that it’s in Prince Blueblood’s best interest to straighten himself out, lest he push someone’s wrong buttons.”

Frowning and furrowing her brow, Celestia responded, saying, “I agree that my nephew can be a royal pain, but I still love him and will not tolerate threats against him.”

“I don’t ‘threaten’ so much as I ‘give warnings’,” he said indignantly, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest.  “There’s a significant difference between the two: threats are for those who feel the need to reassert themselves when they lack confidence and are a waste of breath; warnings are things to be cautious about in the future.”

Letting the issue drop, Celestia returned to the original topic of conversation.  “So these probes...are they small espionage droids?”

Grievous nodded.  “Indeed.  They’re small enough to fit in the palm of my hand, and were plentiful enough to cover most of the highly populated areas of Equestria.”  He chuckled.  “Including your throne room.”

“You were spying on our throne room?   For how long!?” she demanded, voice raised just enough to adequately express her dissatisfaction.

But Grievous was indifferent to her, calmly replying with, “About a week and a half.  But, if you’re going to accuse someone of something, at least make sure you’re accusing them of the right thing.  I wasn’t spying, I was performing reconnaissance.  Understand that those are completely different.”  He noticed that it didn’t help stem Celestia’s anger.  “All the probes have been deactivated, if that means anything.”

It didn’t.  “Surveillance without consent, regardless of the reason, is still an invasion of privacy and is wrong.  You can’t justify it by simply calling it something else.  You must understand…”

She continued on, but Grievous wasn’t paying attention.  There was something more pressing than the enraged Princess demigod ranting not even six feet away from him.

“Unit ST-4W, entity: Ponyville, entity: Rainbow Dash reports sighting and contact with Republic forces.”

“Track those clones and eliminate them!”

“Negative.  Entity: Rainbow Dash reports single Republic unit.  Hostage taken; entity: Applejack.”

“Killing the clone is the primary goal.  If Applejack dies during the engagement, so be it.”

“Roger, roger.  Entity: Rainbow Dash reports Republic stipulation.  Republic unit reported willing to release hostage in exchange for not being harmed itself.”

“Have Rainbow Dash report to the clone that we accept his offer.  When Applejack is no longer in the clone’s custody, kill him”

“Roger, roger.”

The stamping of a hoof against wood snapped him back to reality.  “Grievous, were you even listening?” Celestia nearly shouted.

“No.”

She sighed.  “At least you’re honest.”

“I’ve received word that a clone has been spotted in the vicinity of Ponyville.  My droids are in pursuit.  It shouldn’t be long until it’s dead.  I should like to be dismissed to oversee the operation.”

Her previous anger seemingly forgotten, Celestia frowned again, this time in thought.   “Is anypony hurt?”

“Rainbow Dash has made contact with it and Applejack is being held hostage.  Other than that, nothing else has been reported.”

She breathed a relieved sigh, then returned to her thoughtful expression.  After a couple of minutes, she spoke.  “Don’t kill it.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, ‘Don’t kill it’.  I would like to meet the clone and learn of the Republic from the Republic’s side.  Once Applejack is free, have your droids capture it.”

“Such action would be unwise, your highness,” Grievous warned, though it fell on deaf ears.

“While that’s happening,” she continued, “see if you can’t arrange for a train to bring the clone here to Canterlot.”

“You’re being foolish, Princess.  The clone must be disposed of,” he said.

Celestia retorted back with a stern look.  “And you’re being disrespectful and negligent of your duties.  I am ordering that clone to be delivered here, and I expect it to arrive here.  Unharmed.  And with no collateral damage in Ponyville.  Understood?”

Grievous sighed in defeat.  “Yes, your highness.”

“Very good,” she said, suddenly shifting to giving him a warm smile.  “I expect good results form you.  You are dismissed.”

Without another word, he rose to his feet and stormed out of the room.  He began the trek back to his own, relaying his new orders to the droids in Ponyville.  “Unit ST-4W, there is a new directive.  The clone is to be captured and brought to Canterlot.  Accept the clone’s agreement, and ensure that Applejack is returned unharmed.  Have some units commandeer a train directed for Canterlot.  Use that to bring the clone here.” 

He paused, giving the situation some more thought.  “When the clone is in custody, bring Rainbow Dash along to Canterlot; her testimony should prove useful for supporting the clone’s execution.”

“Roger, roger.”

~~~Canterlot Castle Throne Room, Canterlot, 4 days, 8 hours and 30 minutes after the Ambush at Equus~~~




The doors to the throne room slammed closed behind Spy and his party as they finally entered the throne room.  A long red carpet cut the room in half, leading to a small flight of steps which themselves pointed to a grand throne, which seated a large, white pony, whose mane was endlessly flowing and consisted of many colors, though less so than that of Rainbow Dash next to him.

The pony looked regal by any standard, a stark contrast to the being next to it; none other than the infamous  Separatist warlord, General Grievous.  As the clone was ushered towards the throne, Grievous stepped down the steps and towards him, straightening his stooped posture so as to be more intimidating and strike fear into Spy.

Spy wasn’t about to give him that pleasure, though, and he looked up to the towering cyborg with a goofy, snarky grin.  The General growled as if he were about to say something, but the pony on the throne began speaking first.  “Welcome, clone,” she said in a calm, diffusing voice.  Spy looked to her, and returned the welcoming smile she was giving him.

“I certainly feel welcomed, what, with all of the things with weapons that have been surrounding me for the past hour and a half,” he replied, gesturing as well as he could with his shoulders to the droids and armed guards that were still forming a tight circle around him.

“Give the clone some space,” the pony said to his escort.  The ponies left the circle entirely, moving to the walls of the room, while the droids simply moved away from him a few paces.  Grievous stayed outside of the now expanded circle, but was still tense and ready to spring through that distance if he were to try anything.

The fact that he made Grievous so nervous despite only being a normal trooper improved Spy’s morale some.

“I am Princess Celestia,” the pony on the throne continued.  “I am one of the rulers of this kingdom, alongside my sister, Luna.  Do you have a name?”

“I do,” Spy answered.  “CS-1320 is my name-”

“Wait, I thought Spy was your name?” Rainbow Dash interjected, making her presence known.

“-but I go by Spy, because numbers suck,” he finished.

Celestia looked to Rainbow Dash.  “Rainbow Dash, I was not expecting you to be here.”  She then turned to Grievous.  “Care to explain why you brought her here with an armed escort without my permission?” she said, almost scolding.

“Rainbow Dash was reported to have made contact with the prisoner, and thus I felt her testimony with regards to the clone would be appreciated,” Grievous answered.

Celestia simply nodded and returned her attention to the clone.  “Spy, as a soldier for the Republic, you are by virtue an enemy of my kingdom.  However, I want to assure you that no harm will be brought upon you so long as you are cooperative and respectful.  Sound fair?”

Grievous seemed perplexed by her statement, turning to face her, though he couldn’t discern any other feelings, as his face was turned away.  Not that Grievous had much in the way of facial expressions, anyways.  Regardless, Spy had this feeling that Celestia was not doing as Grievous was hoping.

“I’d say that it’s fair...or, at least it would be, if I was a soldier for the Republic,” Spy answered, earning a cocked brow from the Princess.

“Grievous informs me that clones are the Republic’s soldiers.  Has he misinformed me?”

“I can guarantee that he’s lied to you about most things regarding the Republic,” Spy said, shrugging, “but he was truthful about that.  The Republic makes use of clones of Jango Fett for its army.  However, I have personally opted out of the Republic’s ranks, as they effectively sentenced me to death for completely unjustifiable reasons.”

“Please, do explain.”

Spy chortled darkly at that.  “Oh, Princess, in order to get you to understand completely, it’d be a long story.”

Grievous advanced a step.  “Do as the Princess commands!” he yelled, startling Spy and making Rainbow Dash jump.

“Geez, calm down,” Spy said to Grievous in a mock attempt to calm him down.  “And really, the Princess gave more of an invitation for me to elaborate rather than a command for me to do so.  So really-”

The rest of his retort was cut off when Grievous closed the distance between them and backhanded the clone across the face.  His hand left two long cuts across the clone’s cheek, and pushed him off his feet.  With his arms still restrained, Spy was unable to correct himself, and tumbled to the ground.  Again.

“You will be silent and do as you’re told,” Grievous threatened.

“Grievous!” Celestia shouted behind him.  “Control yourself, and keep away from the clone until you can do so!”

He said nothing as he stomped away from Spy, who was being assisted in being helped up again by Rainbow Dash and a couple of the armored ponies.  Once up, he thanked the ponies that had helped him, then returned to the task at hand: making Grievous seem like an idiot.  “I’m sorry to say this, Grievous, but what you just told me to do was a contradiction.”  A small amount of blood pooled in his mouth, and he spat it out onto his boot.  Continuing he said, “You told me to be silent, but you also told me to do what I was told, which was to speak.  Learn to make up your mind, please.”

“Spy,” said Celestia, catching his attention, “let it drop.  I’ll have somepony address those cuts when our meeting is finished.  For now, though, I’d like to proceed with what I intended for this meeting, which was to talk.  If we can do that without resorting to hurting each other, physically or verbally-” she quickly glanced from him to Grievous, then back to him, “-then we’ll all be better for it.”

“Of course, your highness,” Spy agreed with devilish grin.  “Just keep your pet on a tighter leash, and everything will be fine.”  As expected, Grievous growled and stormed towards Spy.  Unexpectedly, he was stopped by a yellow aura, which surrounded him and held him in place.

Even if Grievous had come over to punch his face in, the jab at his pride and dignity would have been worth it.  But getting away with it with his face intact was much more gratifying.

Celestia, however, was less amused.  Looking to the both of them with a condescending glare, she said, “That is enough from the both of you!  Grievous, you are mature, so act like it and control yourself.  Clone, if you’re wanting any kind of mercy, you had best change your attitude.”  Spy immediately shut up, looking to Rainbow Dash to find that she was also giving him a disappointed look.

Grievous said nothing while Spy apologized.  “I’m sorry, Princess; I couldn’t resist.  I would like to point out, however, that I was looking for nothing; you’re the one that had me brought here.”

The Princess sighed, already too weary of the clone to argue.  She rubbed at her temple with a hoof, hoping to stem the headache that beginning to form.  “Spy, allow me to illustrate the situation for you.  Grievous is currently a military ally of mine who is helping to deal with stray republic units that have made their way into my kingdom, such as yourself.  But while he is insistent that you’re all relentlessly cruel and evil, I hold out hope that, like all beings, there is the potential for good.

“I will admit, the only knowledge of the Republic that I have is the information shared with me by Grievous.  Needless to say, I am not convinced that they are the correct side of the conflict for me to join.  I was hoping though, that I would be able to hear the Republic side of this conflict.  I would also like to point out that Grievous is intent on eliminating you clones.  However, Equestria has a proud record of having never executed anypony, and I don’t plan to change that simply because Grievous requests it.”

She stared intently at Spy, who was remaining uncharacteristically silent.  “Know that you are my prisoner, not Grievous’, and as such, I will offer you a chance at mercy and redemption.  But I can only offer you this if you are willing to cooperate and speak.  Is that agreeable?”

Spy mulled over the terms in his head, finding them to be quite agreeable; it was effectively a pardon from the crimes he committed against her kingdom and the CIS.  As far as he could remember, no clone had ever been as fortunate -unless they were traitorous scumbags like Slick-  especially when in the presence of the clone-massacring warlord himself.

Said clone-massacring warlord himself, though, clearly felt otherwise about the proposal.  Currently, he sat in the throne that resided next to Celestia’s own, though it was sorely undersized for his bulk.  He sat with his arms folded over his chest, looking out the window away from Celestia.  But he made no interjections; Celestia really had a tight grip on him.

“If you can throw some food into your side of the agreement, you have yourself a deal,” he answered, hoping he wasn’t pushing himself too far.  But could he blame him?  He hadn’t eaten in what seemed like two days, after all, and with a body that had always operated on consistent, perfectly nutritionally balanced meals, such a deficit really took its toll on him.

“Is food all you think about?” Rainbow Dash butted in.

“No, but right now, it’s a priority,” Spy answered, suddenly not in the mood to be joked with.

“Rainbow Dash, please, leave him be,” Celestia said to her.  “Once our meeting has concluded, we’ll see if we can’t arrange something for you that will fit with your diet.”

And then suddenly, Spy’s spirits were high again.  He gave the Princess an elated smile, saying to her, “Thank you, your highness.  You have yourself a deal.”

“Very good,” she replied, her own countenance becoming more cheerful.  “Please, tell me about the Republic; start where you see most fit.”

“Very well,” Spy said.  “Let’s see...well, I’ll be honest, my experience with the Republic is minimal in all fields except for militaristically.  The Republic is a democratic organization of star systems, who deal with, uh...civvy stuff.  The Republic was peaceful, but due to provocation from the Separatists, it was pressured into forming an army of its own, which falls under the command of Chancellor Palpatine.  We’re aided by the Jedi in our fight against the Seps.”  He paused, trying to find  more to say.  He failed.  “Other than that, I can’t say I know anything more about the Republic that isn’t related to the army.”

“If you know so little, then why did you fight for them?” Celestia inquired.

“It wasn’t a choice.”  He frowned.  “No, that’s not true; it was a choice, but not mine.  Celestia, do you know what a clone is?”

She mimicked his frown.  “I’m afraid that I’m not completely familiar with the concept.”

“Oh, then you’ll like this.  A clone is a genetic copy of another organism,” he explained.

“Similar to identical twins?” Celestia asked, intrigued.

“More or less, though even identical twins can be imperfect copies,” Spy answered.  “But there’s more to being a clone than just having the same genes as another.  As a clone, you’re not born; you’re bred.  You have no father, no mother, no one to love you, and if you’re a clone for the grand Army of the Republic, you have no purpose except to die.

“The worst part is, they modify us as we’re made.  They twist our development so that we come out as perfect soldiers: maturing faster, perfectly obedient and unquestionably loyal.”  Spy sighed wistfully and slunk to the ground, resuming once he was sitting cross-legged on the floor.  “We exist only for the purpose of war.  Except for a very select few, clones don’t have anything to live for except for the bonds that can be shared only by those who know that those whom they’re bonded with may not be there the following day.

“It’s sad and sickening to think of what the Republic is willing to do reach its goals.  The Grand Army is hypocrisy of the grandest scale, and I don’t want to be a part of it.”  Then, he chuckled.  It wasn’t a friendly, hearty, or welcoming one by any means, though.  No, it was twisted and demented and filled of sorrow.  Spy stood, stepping towards the droid in front of him.  “You know what’s funny?  Clones, by those who dislike us or are unfamiliar about us, are often perceived of as ‘fleshy droids’.”  He kicked the droid in the calf, then walked back to his original spot.  The droid didn’t react.  “The best part is: they’re right.  The Republic could have used droids in place of us and achieved the same result.  But no...they had to choose the cruel, inhumane route.”

The room was silent for a few tense seconds as everyone contemplated his words.  Even Grievous seemed intrigued by his testimony, though probably because he could easily turn what he had said against the Republic.  But Spy didn’t care; the Republic was a monster.  The fact that its members were able to live with -no, supported- the existence of such a grand feat of slavery and oppression was despicable.  If they received the end of Grievous’ and Celestia’s combined wrath, they deserved it.

“Spy?” Rainbow Dash asked, quietly and surprisingly concernedly.  “Are you okay?  That was awfully grim was you just said.”

After some long, calming breaths, Spy answered.  “Yeah, I’m good.  It feels good to have that off my chest, too.  I just hope it’s enough to satisfy Celestia; I don’t feel like dwelling on that for too much longer.”

Meanwhile, as Rainbow Dash tried to comfort Spy, Grievous and Celestia were engaged in their own discussion.  “Is there any doubt now as to the villainous intentions of the Republic?” he asked her.  “If they’re so willing to repress the rights of free will and life to their own living soldiers, then it shouldn’t be too much to assume that their subjects will face similar subjugation.

“The Jedi are just as bad, if not worse.  For supposed peacekeepers who hold all sentient life in high regard, their endorsement of the Republic’s policy is simply abhorrent.  You see now why they must be stopped.”

It was only a slight motion, but the nodding of the Princess’ head in agreement was unmistakable.  “Such infringement of principle cannot be left unopposed.  However, we can’t take our frustrations out upon these clones.  They are the tragic victims in all of this, and though they have yet to be enlightened enough to see the injustices laid upon them, we must give them a chance to see it.  It is the right thing to do.”

That said, she raised her voice so that all in attendance could hear her proclamation.  “Spy, for now, you are to face no punishment for anything you’ve done since your arrival.  Whether or not you want it, you and the rest of you clones have my pity, and as such, I will do what is within my power to grant to any clone who surrenders peacefully the life they deserve as a living being.”  She then addressed the pony guards in the room.  “Guards, unbind him and bring him to a banquet hall; have the chefs prepare a meal for him.”

“Your effects will remain in my custody for the time being, at least until we've decided on how to handle the situation you’ve presented,” she added as a final note to Spy.  “You are dismissed.”  As the guards approached Spy to lead him away, he heard Celestia begin to speak to Rainbow Dash.  “It has been brought to my attention that you had made contact with Spy some time before his capture.  Please, tell me the circumstances of your interactions, and then you’ll be dismissed to return to Ponyville.”

Spy had been taken out of the throne room and the doors had closed behind him at this point, so he was unable to hear anything Rainbow Dash said after that, but he wasn’t so concerned about what she was going to say.  Despite having only known her for a little while, he already got the sense that she was quite the dependable pony, and that she wouldn’t speak out against him.

The promise of food, though, was enough to derail that train of thought, as well as any others that sprung up as he was brought through the magnificent halls of the castle towards an unknown destination.  In due time, the guards opened a small set of doors which revealed a small, one pony table which was presumably to be the one he would eat at.

He took a seat on the floor, as there wasn’t enough legroom for him if he were to sit in a chair, and tapped his freed hands impatiently on the table.  “Somepony’ll come by to ask what you want,” a guard said to him, promptly leaving the room, likely to fetch said ‘somepony’.  The rest of his escort followed the guard out of the room, apparently thinking that he wasn’t going to try anything while they were gone.

He wasn’t, though, so at least the potential oversight on their part had no negative consequences.

Not a second after he was left alone, there was a blindingly bright flash of light.  It took him some time to stop seeing spots, but once his vision cleared, he saw there was a new creature in the room with him.  It wasn’t the most peculiar thing he’d seen, being a seemingly random assortment of various animal appendages, but it seemed out of place with the rather uniform body types he’d seen in Equestria thus far.  Of course, he was no expert on Equestrian species, so he really could make any more judgments.

The thing pulled a wicker basket out of the thin air behind its back, extending its talon to offer the basket to him.  “I heard you had the munchies,” the thing said.  “Whatever you want; just close your eyes and reach in, and you’ll have it.”  As if prompting him to give it a shot, the thing lifted up an end of the basket.

Spy peered into it, finding it to be pitch black in the basket, despite the opened lid and light that should have been entering it.  Strange as it was, he’d seen Jedi do weirder things.  Shrugging, he humored the creature, reaching into the basket.  He felt nothing.

Then he closed his eyes.  He thought back for something to want, preferably a food item.  Appleloosa: those apples looked delicious.  He had never actually had an apple before, as they weren’t a part of the standard diet or ration pack.  The way Shy seemed to savor the fruit made him jealous that he couldn’t be guinea pig for certain ‘scientific’ tests.

Suddenly, as he flailed his hand around inside the void of the basket, his hand touched something.  He grabbed at it, finding it to be round.  He opened his eyes and withdrew his arm, finding the biggest, reddest, and shiniest apple he had ever seen sitting in his palm.  

It was even cold, too!

He looked at the apple, dumbfounded.  This place was weird!  But, it was undeniably awesome at the same time.

The creature smiled down at him, dropping the basket in front of him.  “My gift to a soul in need,” it said, disappearing as suddenly and violently as it had arrived.  Things were starting to become incomprehensible, it seemed...or, they would have, if he wasn’t completely distracted with the apple in his hand.

A growl from his stomach told him to stop thinking and just eat.  And so he did.  And it was the greatest thing he’d ever eaten.

~~~Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, 4 days and 10 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~




“There have been some complications to our efforts, my lord.”

“Nothing compromising, I hope, for your sake.  Tell me, General: what are these complications?”

“We have taken a clone into custody not more than a few hours ago.  I intended to simply have the clone killed, as anyone else would have done.  But, when I informed Celestia of the clone, she ordered that it be captured and brought to her.”

“Is the clone still alive, Grievous?”

“Yes.  Furthermore, after hearing the clone’s story, she decreed that no clones were to be killed, unless, of course, they are directly hostile.”

The hologram of Dooku fell silent, mulling over the new development.  “I don’t like this,” he said after some contemplation.  “The Republic has been capitalizing on your absence, General.  They’ve not yet caught wind of your position, but they know you’re inactive.  I cannot risk keeping you there much longer; another week or so, at the most.  Celestia must make a choice by then: help us, or side with them.  If her mercy on the clones is anything to go by, I believe I have a sense of her alignment.”

“What should be done of it, my lord?”

“Give her time.  She may yet come around.  However, if the time comes for you to leave and she has not yet made a choice, or if she has chosen the Republic…”  Dooku’s visage became stern and he glared at the General.  “Equestria cannot be allowed to be utilized by anyone but ourselves.  If what I’ve said is the case, then you must eliminate them.

"Eliminate them all.”

> Chapter 13: Bogged
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~~Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, 4 days, 9 hours and 30 minutes after the Ambush at Equus~~~




Magical basket in hand, munching happily on his eleventh delicious apple, Spy followed a small contingent of guards as they escorted him back to the castle’s throne room.  Celestia, Rainbow Dash, and Grievous had apparently finished whatever discussion they had begun when he was taken out of the room, and now it was time to receive his final verdict.

It didn’t take long to reach the throne room from the room he had previously been in, only taking a few minutes before the massive doorway and its two ever-stoic guardsponies came into view.  Upon seeing them come near the doorway, one of the guards shoved open one of the doors and peeked inside the room, presumably informing the throne room’s occupants of their arrival, before returning to his original position.

At the same time that Spy and his escort reached the throne room’s entrance, Celestia and Rainbow Dash exited the room, Dash carrying Spy’s helmet.  They eyed the basket he was carrying suspiciously, but Celestia decided to begin with a more important line of conversation.  “Spy, we have reached a decision on what to do with you.  Please, walk with me, and we’ll discuss this matter.  Guards, you may leave him.”

The several guards that had escorted Spy saluted and turned away, leaving Spy in the company of just Celestia, Dash, and the two throne room guards.  “Hey, uh, Celestia?” Spy asked, double checking to make sure his head-count was accurate.  “Where’s Grievous?”

“Grievous didn’t take well to my decision,” she said with a sigh, turning away and making her way down the hall, Rainbow Dash and Spy following.  “He stormed out of the throne room during our talk.  My guess is that he’s retreated to his room.”  She turned her head to look to Dash and Spy behind her and gave them a signal to hurry up.  “But I don’t think talk of Grievous would interest you at this point, Spy,” she continued.  “Come to my side; it’s easier to talk that way.”

Taking up her invitation, Spy moved up to be by her side and matched her pace, though Dash trailed behind by a couple of paces.  “Grievous was upset that I am granting you mercy; he so desperately wants me to execute you, but I find no just reason in doing so.  I also don’t find a reason to lock you up, firstly because you’re too tall to fit in any of our cells, and secondly because you seem to have had many freedoms taken from you already, and I’m unwilling to continue that trend.”

They turned a corner, going deeper into the castle.  “That’s very thoughtful of you, Princess, and I greatly appreciate it.  So will I be staying here, then?” Spy queried.

“Normally, I would say yes.  However, I fear that having you in such close proximity to Grievous would put your life in great risk,” Celestia confessed.  “He’s scuffled with my Captain already, and they're not even enemies; I can only imagine what he'd do to somepony that was.”  They turned another corner.  “That being the case, you are to be relocated to Ponyville and under the watch of the Element bearers.  The droids have been instructed to listen to the bearers, so they should be able to keep you from being harmed by droids.”

“Alright,” Spy agreed.  “What else?”

"Dash has agreed to be your primary watcher.  She’ll be your caretaker as you adjust to the new setting, but in exchange, I expect you to obey her and her friends, so long as their requests are reasonable.”

“Fair enough,” Spy said to Celestia before turning to Dash with a smirk.  “And here I thought you didn’t like me.”

Rainbow growled and crossed her forelegs over her chest.  “Shut up.  I’m only doing it because the Princess asked me to; I couldn’t care less about you.”

“Eh; you’ll come around,” Spy said, reverting his attention to the annoyed-looking Princess.  “What about my equipment?”

Celestia looked to the helmet that Rainbow Dash was carrying.  “Grievous tells me that the armor you’re wearing has some features in addition to protection, telecommunication being one of the examples Grievous provided.”  Returning her gaze to look at where she was going, she continued.  “I won’t deny that the need for your armor might occur while you’re in Ponyville, and I don’t want to take away your protection, but the fact remains that if you keep your armor, the capacity for you to conspire with any other clones in the area is present.”

“That’s partly true, Princess, but aside from the gauntlet comm, all other extraneous functions are controlled with the helmet.  If I don’t have my helmet, I can’t access those functions,” Spy suggested.

Smiling, Celestia replied, saying, “Grievous said something similar, but it’s nice to hear you confirm it.  You may keep your armor on you, though I would recommend not wearing it all so that the droids in Ponyville can easily identify you and not mistake you for a different clone.  Rainbow Dash, however, will be keeping your helmet, returning it to you at her discretion.  Your weapons, though, will remain here.”

Concluding her offer, Celestia looked to the clone, awaiting his response, though the basket swaying at his side caught her eye.  “And that basket...” she started.  “You didn’t have that on you when you came here, and it just radiates magical aura.  Where did you get it?”

Spy took the final bite of the apple he had been eating.  He opened up the basket and set the core inside, the weird void causing it to disappear while another fresh apple materialized in his hand.  “I don’t know who it was that gave me this, but it was a weird looking fellow: tall; thin, brown body; yellow-”

“Discord,” Celestia muttered.  “I’m sorry, Spy, but I can’t let you keep that basket.  I can’t trust any apparition of Discord’s magic.”

“No!” Spy objected, clutching the basket to his chest, causing Celestia and Rainbow Dash to eye him warily.  “All it does is make food for me,” he explained, pulling yet another apple out of the basket.  “I don’t know if you’ve considered my dietary needs into your decision, but my guess is that you have no idea what those needs are.  As such, this basket provides the means for me to satiate whatever I may be needing without putting any hassle on anyone.”

“I wouldn’t mind him keeping it if it saves me the bits for feeding him,” Rainbow Dash agreed.

Celestia considered it for a moment, then relented.  “Seeing as Discord’s involved here, if things were any more abnormal, I’d be more adamant about not keeping the basket.  However, I’ll trust that Discord’s not up to something just this once.”  Looking to Rainbow Dash, she said, “But if anything suspicious happens with that basket, I want you to take it to Twilight immediately and inform me via letter.  Understood?”

“Yes, Princess!” Rainbow answered with an enthusiastic salute.

“You communicate through letters?” Spy snickered, to which both ponies gave him a deadpan look before ignoring the comment completely.

“So that’s shelter, dietary, and equipment accommodations accounted for,” Celestia resumed.  “I believe that covers everything you need to know, Spy.”

Nodding affirmatively, the three of them continued to traverse the castle’s halls in silence.  After a couple of minutes of walking, Celestia began looking towards each door they passed, indicating that they were close to their destination.

Rainbow picked up on this, and asked curiously, “Princess, where are we going?”

Finally, she stopped in front of a door, a very unassuming one that gave no clear indication of having anything of importance behind it.  Though, this place being as weird as it was, Spy was prepared for anything.

“Like I said, Grievous and Captain Armor have a bit of a feud between them,” Celestia answered, seemingly speaking to the door.  “Unfortunately, Armor’s feelings bested him, and he lashed out against our guest.  As a consequence of this, he is being temporarily relieved of duty.”

The sound of something unlatching came from behind the door, and it was slowly pulled inward, revealing the room’s interior and its occupant.  The occupant was a unicorn standing about between Celestia and Rainbow Dash in height.  His build was similar to that of the guards Spy had seen, indicating him to be male, and he had a two-toned blue mane and a coat that was almost as pure a white as Celestia’s.

“On the bright side, though, Shining Armor has the perfect opportunity to go to Ponyville and visit his sister,” Celestia said, smiling to him.

“Um, yes, Princess, that was the plan,” Shining Armor said with a salute, having shaken off the fact that the Princess had come to his room completely unannounced.  Then the Captain’s eyes fell on Spy.

He eyed the clone with a wary expression, brow furrowing, but expression showing no fear.  After all, if he was willing to be around and even attack Grievous, a clone was nothing in comparison.

“So is this the clone you told me had been captured?” Shining asked Celestia, letting his salute drop.

“He is,” she answered.  “I asked that you wait to leave for Ponyville just long enough for us to conclude business with him, just in case he decided to try something.  Are you ready to leave for Ponyville?”

“I am; been ready since yesterday evening,” he remarked, pulling a rather compact suitcase out of his room using his magic.

Despite the jab at her, she maintained her warm smile.  “Please, come with us,” she said, turning back in the direction she had originally come from.  “The clone is to be housed in Ponyville for the time being, and I would like you to accompany him and Rainbow Dash on the train there, and for you to keep an eye on him along with the Elements.”

“And why is that?” Shining asked, following Celestia as she backtracked.

“Quite simply, I don’t completely trust the droids to leave him unharmed,” she sighed.  “You, on the other hoof, I can trust to ensure that he is unharmed and that, in turn, he doesn't harm anypony.”

“My word’s not enough for ya?” Spy asked innocently.

“No.”

Spy ‘awwed’ in mock disappointment.

“But Grievous’ word was enough for you to trust him?” Shining questioned critically.

“Grievous has protected us from a changeling invasion that would have otherwise overtaken us; that is more than enough reason for me to trust him, and it should be enough for you, too.”

With that sour note, the conversation ended.  The four of them walked in silence, eventually passing the throne room and returning to the castle’s main entrance.  “Captain Armor, I trust you can reach the train station from here without incident,” she said as they neared the massive wooden doors.  He wordlessly nodded.  “There should be a train prepared to bring the three of you to Ponyville.  I have things here that need to be tended to, so it is here that we part.”

Shining Armor and Rainbow Dash, who had begun walking some time ago, both dropped to a bow, which Spy would have reciprocated if he had been expecting the need to.  Celestia didn’t look at all offended, though.  “I wish you all the best of luck and health.  Goodbye, my little ponies.”  With that, she departed.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Shining said a few seconds later, immediately taking charge of the small party, leading them out of the castle and to the station.  Continuing their trend, they traversed the distance in silence.

~~~Froggy Bottom Bog, Equestria, 4 days and 5 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~




For Viktor and his three remaining comrades, the morning had been a slow trek through the woods bordering Ghastly Gorge.  Having prepared no shelter, fire pit, or other comforts of any kind, the three clones and one droid were able to get an early start to the day’s travels.  There was time to make up for, due in part to their lack of vehicular transport, and also in part to Shy’s broken limb, which Viktor hoped to make up for that day.

The dense foliage was a bit of an issue for their speed, being a bit of a hindrance to R8 and more so for Shy.  Unfortunately, what was before them on their path, the bog and the Everfree Forest, were bound to be worse.

Viktor had taken point, with R8 following closely behind him.  Shy followed a bit more distantly behind R8 than R8 did Viktor, and Gore made up the rear, his chaingun being able to provide ample amounts of cover fire in the case that it was necessary.  Thanks to R8’s scanning instruments coming up negative in detecting any large extraneous electromagnetic signatures, though, Viktor had gradually relaxed, eventually opting to simply keep his weapon attached to his thigh plate as opposed to in hand, and Gore followed suit.

And as the sun began to reach its midday peak, a break in the treeline became more and more apparent, eventually becoming a wide path that split the forest in two, a line of railroad tracks running through the center of the path.

Coming into a couple of hundred feet of the tracks, Viktor halted their advance.  They gathered in a small circle, Viktor speaking first.  “There’s a railroad up ahead.  Shy, can you confirm our position?” he said over a secure comm channel.

Shy brought an image of the map he had scanned before onto his visor and formulated his estimate.  “I can’t confirm anything,” he said quietly, “but across the tracks should be the bog.”

Glancing back in the direction of the tracks provided evidence enough that that was the case.  Some of the treeline was visible from their position, and it was apparent that conditions were dramatically different on the other side.  The leaves of the trees, instead of being a lush green like the ones they were surrounded by, were a sickly brownish green.  Vines hung from many of the trees’ limbs.  In essence, it simply looked dead.

“Are we sure we want to go through there, sir?” Gore questioned.  “I’m sure your equipment can handle the conditions, but Shy and I only have standard gear; I know that swamp water isn’t gonna do our stuff any good,” he stated, earning a subtle but visible nod from Shy.

“We don’t have much choice,” Viktor said.  “It’s the quickest and safest way to reach the Ponyville and Canterlot area.  If we need to, we’ll take some time to clean off our gear, but we just can’t risk taking a more open route.”

“I don’t like it, but I don’t like any of the alternatives either,” Gore relented, letting it drop.

“We don’t know how bad it’ll be,” reasoned Viktor.  “Once we get across, we’ll determine how to best proceed.  For now, I’m going to move ahead and see if we’re good to cross the tracks; stay here and wait for a signal.”

With an affirmative whistle from R8, Viktor readied his rifle and cautiously moved out.  He reached the edge of the brush and looked in both directions down the tracks.  There was nothing he could see approaching them, and a lack of rumbling helped confirm that there were indeed no vehicles coming down the tracks.  It wasn’t trains he was worried about through.  Slowly, he stepped out from behind cover and into the open, raising his weapon into the air and checking the sky for any form of aerial surveillance.

The way clear, he waved towards his squad, who were just visible through the foliage if he actively tried to spot them.  Gore helped Shy to his feet, as he had begun to sit and let his injured leg rest some, and escorted him and R8 towards the open area.  Shy had little problem making it across the small obstacles, but R8 had to be carried by Viktor, who set the heavy astromech down with loud grunt at the edge of their objective area.

Without the forest immediately around them to obstruct their view, Viktor could see that the boggy area was significantly more dense than the forest they had just left.  In fact, there really wasn’t any good place to enter that he could see from their position.  “Gore, check left; I’ll go right.  Find a point of entry.”

After a few minutes of scouting, Gore finally located one.  It was a tight squeeze, but nothing that none of the squad couldn’t handle.  Viktor helped Shy through the treeline first, letting R8 go through next, followed by Gore, and finally himself.  There was a small clear patch of ground large enough for them to huddle and deliberate, which Viktor instructed them to do.

Only a few feet behind the cover of the leaves, Viktor could already feel a significant difference in the soil and atmosphere.  The soil was moist; not quite mud yet, but there was definitely give as well as a slight squishing sound at every step, and he could hear his armor’s air filtration systems kick in slightly more as it filtered out just a tad more excess gas.

It was evident that the others noticed at least some of these changes, too.  Shy poked around with his makeshift crutch for the driest patches of land with every limp step so as to not get it stuck, and Gore’s steps became slightly more exaggerated as he no doubt tried to avoid any slick ground.  Like Shy, R8 tested the ground before him before advancing any significant amount.

Getting through here was going to be a pain.

In due time, the squad had reached the empty ground, and procedural deliberations began.  “Well, sir,” Gore began first, “this is a nice place you’ve found us in.”

Brushing aside Gore’s uncharacteristic bout of sarcasm, Viktor said his piece.  “Well, I doubt any seps’ll try to follow us in here.  Place seems like it’d be a death trap for droids.”  Looking to R8, he said, “If we reach anywhere really bad, I’ll carry you.”  He addressed all of them again.  “Things look pretty tight here, so stick close and speak up if you get stuck.”

“Sir,” Shy whispered loud enough to get Viktor’s attention.  “Sir, if I may, I’ll take point.”

“You’re wounded.  No.”

“Sir, we can only ever travel as fast as I can,” he justified.  “You might as well let me take point and take us through the driest path; it’s best for all of us.”  Reaching to his back, he wielded the vibrosword he had taken from their previous skirmish.  “Plus, I can cut us a path through thick vegetation.”

That was justification enough to convince Viktor to agree.  “Very well.  As I doubt we’ll need to worry too much about being on the lookout for now, Gore, you’re helping me carry R8 when the need arises.  Feel free to keep your chaingun stowed away, too; it’ll only slow and unbalance you.”

“Will do, sir,” Gore happily agreed, magnetizing the rather weighty weapon onto his back and pulling out his pistol.  Viktor acted similarly, placing his rifle back onto his thigh and instead wielding his modified bowcaster, which had been unused and simply slung around him on a strap during their entire deployment.  It was a better weapon to use in this scenario anyway, having originally been made by a forestbound population and being more resistant to environmental conditions than even a DC-17m.

Shy took the lead, as had been agreed, slowly poking his way through the easiest locatable path.  For a few hundred feet into the wood’s depths, the conditions weren’t too terrible; the moisture in the soil seemed consistent enough, and maneuvering through the claustrophobic area was still manageable, even for Shy, despite being crippled.

Not much farther beyond that, though, things became completely different.  The group began coming upon small pockets of swamp water, the soil gradually became mud, and clearance between spaces became such that Shy had to begin hacking a path with his sword.

Several times, Shy’s crutch found patches of rather clingy mud that simply refused to let go of the end of it, slowing them down some.  Missteps happened every once in a while, leaving one of the clones knee-deep in mud and needing help extracting themselves.

After their first hour, they were all quite worn and looked the part, panting from the effort of trudging through the swampy environment that left everything from their knees down completely brown.  R8 fared no better, being caked in mud and dirt as well.  Despite having been carried over the worst of things, he had still been occasionally set down by Gore and Viktor in puddles that they couldn’t tell were there, splashing mud on the droid’s chassis as well as all about their armor.

They were filthy, tired, and hungry, yet there was no end in sight.

Reaching the second hour of their muddy trip, conditions only worsened.  Gore’s already short temper had been tried to its fullest extent, and he cursed loudly and profusely at every misfortunate step.  Mud was splattered all over the four of them, and the increasingly swampy nature of their surroundings helped things none.  To the annoyance of both Gore and Viktor, R8 had become so muddied that his wheels were beginning to jam, and not wanting to have more of the droid disabled, they hauled him through the swamp themselves.

This, unfortunately, made recovering quickly after stumbling on the slick terrain or getting a leg stuck in a deep pit of mud, something that happened more and more frequently as they grew more and more tired, difficult.  None of them were any bit happy, but they trudged on.

Come the third hour, some sort of relief presented itself to them.  Cutting away a final thick tree limb, Shy revealed to the squad a large open area filled with brown bogwater and decaying trees.  Numerous gas bubbles popped and formed on the surface of the water, and the area reeked of decay.  The treeline that they had broken through surrounded most of the water, though there were two large gaps where water slowly flowed into and out of the basin before them, indicating that they had come across a part of a river.

Shy took a few steps forward, finding the ground surprisingly drier than what they had just been travelling through, a welcome comfort shared by the others as they moved into the open.  Viktor and Gore set R8 down on a rather dry patch of soil.  “We’ll rest here for a while,” Viktor declared, plopping to the ground beside his droid and giving his legs a much needed rest, not caring about the damp ground at all.  Gore did the same, sighing contentedly as the weight was lifted from his weary legs.  Unlike them, Shy continued forward, coming to the tip of a peninsular formation that jutted into the body of water.  Reaching his destination, he brought up his map and attempted to confirm their position.

“How much farther do we intend to go, sir?” Gore asked Viktor as they waited for Shy.

“I’d like to at least get out of this bog,” he answered.  “I can’t imagine any of us wanting to go farther than that without getting proper rest.”

“Shy best have good news for us, then; I’d fancy some sleep and a less filthy place to eat my meager meal as soon as possible.”

Viktor agreed with a nod, falling into silence as he waited for Shy to finish what he was doing.  It was only a few minutes longer until that had happened, and he slowly limped back to his companions.

“So?” inquired Gore as Shy settled himself down, adjusting to accommodate his broken leg.

Shy removed his helmet and set it on the ground, using his science module to project an image of the map onto the ground, then grabbed some nearby twigs.  He stuck an end of one of the twigs into the ground, marking their location on the projected map.  Their location, as it was, was along the bank or a river that cut the Everfree Forest and Froggy Bottom Bog area in two.

The map showed that there was another river, this one to the north of the Everfree that cut it and the bog off from Ponyville.  Along that river, Shy marked two more spots with twigs, these two being adjacent to the section of the Everfree Forest opposite that of the twig marking their position.

“This twig marks our approximate position,” Shy said, pointing to the first twig he placed, voice dry from a lack of use.  “These other two twigs mark bridges that lead from the Everfree side of the river to the Ponyville side of the river.”  Pointing then to the water around them, he continued, saying, “This river here splits this forest-bog area in two.  We’re on the side that has no constructed connections to Ponyville.

“There are two courses of action we could take: out first option is to cross this river that we’re at and travel through Everfree while ignoring the bridges.  We would still be able to reach Canterlot mountain that way, and we’d likely bypass CIS surveillance, though at the cost of checking out Ponyville and seeing what the CIS is up to.”

“And the other option?” asked Viktor.

“Alternatively, we can cross this river, then make our way into Ponyville and try to observe CIS proceedings, and determine an objective based on that,” Shy explained.  “We’re at greater risk of being caught, but we’ll at least have an idea of what we’re getting involved with, and maybe get some of the locals on our side.”

Gore leaned in to get a better view of the map.  He pointed to the river north of them on the map and asked, “Why go through the woods and cross the bridges, which are much too obvious, as opposed to just crossing this river and following the bank to the Ponyville area?  They’d least expect us to come from that direction.”

“There’s no forest cover,” Viktor explained, seeing that there was, indeed, no forest cover on the Ponyville side of the northern river.  “No matter what, we’ve got to cross this murky water here, then we can decide what to do next.  Like you pointed out, Shy, we don’t really have a definite objective anymore, so we need to figure that out.  Not now, though; right now, we need to recuperate.”

Satisfied with the answers he’d gotten, Gore leaned back against a rotting log and began to doze off slightly, his chaingun forcing him to tilt at an odd and undoubtedly uncomfortable angle.  But neither Viktor or Shy were going to disturb him as he was; Shy needed to check up on his leg and Viktor had some cleaning to do to R8.

And that’s what they did: Shy replaced his helmet and began checking up on his leg, taking a few x-rays to see the extent of his recovery while Viktor used his wrist mounted vibroblade to scrape chunks of dried mud off of the astromech.  It would leave some scratches for sure, but it was certainly better than just leaving it there in the long run.

Not long after, Shy had finished assessing himself and had begun scraping mud off of the end of his electrostaff crutch with the vibrosword while Viktor continued to toil with R8, managing to dislodge the gunk that had immobilized the droid’s wheels.  “How’s the leg doing?” Viktor asked as he worked.

“Fine,” Shy answered simply.

Viktor waited a few seconds for Shy to elaborate, but it never came.  “Care to say more?”  He knew Shy would prefer not to, but would do it anyways, just for him.

“I gave myself a small bacta injection last night during my watch to help accelerate healing.”

“How small?”

“An eighth of a full standard injection,” Shy said.  “All I wanted was enough to prompt the two segments to begin reattaching to reduce pain from them jostling about and to keep them set well.  Thanks to being encased in armor, the segments stayed set, and they have rejoined to a small degree.”  He attempted to bend his leg at the knee, wincing in slight pain as the broken parts shifted slightly, but it was manageable.  “To save bacta, that was only a one-time injection; recovery will continue at about the normal rate once the entire sample’s been expended in about a day.”

Viktor removed another large piece of refuse from R8.  “Good to hear, good to hear.  I won’t blame you for being injured, but I can’t deny that it’s been nothing but a problem.  If you’d like, I can spare some of my bacta.  I still have a full field injection at my disposal, and the faster you get better, the less likely we are to need the injection anyway.”

Shy nodded, but gave no verbal sign of acceptance, and Viktor missed the gesture.  “Sound good?” he asked, annoyance at being ignored seeping into his tone.

“Yes,” Shy answered, weakly but audibly.

Viktor sighed.  One of these days, he’d get an explanation for Shy’s behavior.  But the priority now was to rest.  As such, Viktor left things at that and resumed his brief cleaning of R8.  After a few minutes, the worst had been removed from R8, good enough for the time being, and Viktor followed the example of both Shy and Gore, finding a log to lean against and let his weariness dissipate.

They stayed like that for a half hour, having said nothing and having been virtually unmoved, before it was decided to keep moving.  Standing was so much more tolerable for the three clones now that their legs were somewhat reinvigorated, and they made to depart.

The murky river before them had to be crossed in order for them to keep to the cover of the trees, and they hesitantly moved towards the bank.  Once there, Spy tested the depth with his crutch, finding it to be around thigh deep.  At its narrowest point in the vicinity, the river was about 30 feet across; it was the best they’d get, and they made sure everything was ready to get wet.

Shy stepped in first, continuing to take point.  He used his crutch and the vibrosword to test the ground beneath the water for roots and other hazards, slowly making his way across.  Fortunately, there was virtually no current to sweep him off his one good leg, which he was thankful for.  Following in his steps, Gore and Viktor trailed, holding R8 above their heads as they crossed.

Near the center of the river, the water’s depth had risen to waist level, but there hadn’t been any mishaps impeding their progress, and in no time they had passed through the river.  Reaching the opposite bank, they stopped.  R8 was set down, and the clones began unholstering their weapons and shaking what water they could get out of them out.  Their pistols and Viktor’s rifle had all been completely submerged, so firing those anytime soon would be a bad idea.  However, Shy’s rifle, Viktor’s bowcaster, and Gore’s chaingun were all relatively dry, leaving them with some means of defense should the need arise.

Weapon shaking complete, they resumed their slow march, quickly finding themselves back into the muddy woodlands that had previously consumed several hours of their precious time and most of their energy.  But it was the final stretch, and with the promise that it would be over soon, they kept on and persevered through the trees and mud.


~~~Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, 4 days and 14 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~




“Luna?” Celestia gently asked, tapping lightly on the lunar princess’ bedroom door.  There was no response.

“Luna, are you in there?”  Her second round of knocking was a bit more forceful.

A weak response sounded from within the room.  “It is unlocked, sister.”

Turning the knob, Celestia slowly pushed the door open and crept into Luna’s room.  Luna herself was sitting on her balcony, gazing out over the city of Canterlot under the moonless night sky.  She didn’t bother to spare a glance towards Celestia as she entered as closed the door behind her.

“I haven’t seen you all day, Luna,” Celestia stated as she began to slowly walk towards her sister.  “Is this where you’ve been hiding?”

After some delay, Luna answered.  “Neither are true, sister.  You saw me before you interrupted my Court proceedings, and I have not been hiding.  Rather, I have been thinking.”

“I’m sorry that Grievous and I had to interrupt you like we did,” Celestia apologized, coming to Luna’s side and turning to face her.  “It was necessary, though, so that we could consult with the Republic soldier.”

Luna did not return Celestia’s gaze.  “And what came of the consultation?”

“According to the clone and confirmed by Grievous, the Republic’s army consists entirely of, effectively, slaves.  The clones that make up that army have no free will, no civilian rights, no family, and are considered disposable.”

“That is terrible!” Luna said in surprise.

“I believe so too,” agreed Celestia.  “Grievous considers all clones a threat, but this specific one claimed no further loyalty to the Republic.  I determined that he was truthful with his words, and so, despite Grievous’ protests and pleas to execute the clone, I have granted him mercy and promised him that any other clones who would surrender peacefully would receive the same.”

“I imagine that the General did not take to your decision well?”

Celestia chuckled.  “No, he didn’t.  The clone wasn’t present when I finalized my decision, which probably was best for his well being, as Grievous threw quite the tantrum.  He stormed out of the throne room and has been hiding away like you since.”  A quizzical expression crossed her face and she put a hoof to her chin in thought.  “Though I did see him drag a couple of broken droids through the halls; I didn’t ask him what for, but it was certainly curious.”

Finally, Luna looked to Celestia and graced her with a smile.  “I am glad you made that decision, dear sister; it is what I would have done had I been there.”  Casting her gaze back to the grand city before them, she continued, softly adding, “I’m glad that Grievous’ corruption hasn’t spread to you yet.”

“What do you mean by that?” Celestia asked, brow cocked and tone stern, almost defensive.

“Can you not see?” Luna asked.  “Merely his presence affects things.”

“You have something you wish to tell me, Luna,” Celestia observed.  “Now is not the time to be cryptic.”

Taking a minute to word her response, Luna finally said, “Things have changed ever since Grievous arrived, and for the worst, I am afraid.  He is a corruption of our morality.  Did you not see what he and his droids did to the changelings?  Slaughtered.  Mercilessly, and with no room given for diplomacy.”

“Queen Chrysalis seemed beyond reason when she spoke to me that day,” Celestia defended.

“That may be, but no chance for reconsideration was provided to the changelings.”  Luna was now standing above her sister and looking to her as if she were staring her down.  “However justified it may have been, the fact remains that we cannot allow Grievous to continue to inspire us to commit such evils.

“Then there’s Captain Armor, whom Grievous managed to break.  So much patience; so much self-control; so much will...all of it shattered by that alien nightmare.”  Luna backed away a couple of paces from Celestia and sat herself back down.  “Grievous has broken our best; how long until you or I follow?”

“Luna,” Celestia comforted, approaching her and opening up for a hug, which Luna accepted.

Luna sighed into Celestia’s shoulder.  “I don’t know what to think,” she said.  “I am conflicted.  My intuition tells me to hate Grievous, but my emotions do not want another barrier put up between us.”

The elder sister squeezed more tightly.  “Regardless of what you think of Grievous, Luna, I will love you just the same.  You’re my only sister, after all.  But still, it is for the best, I think, for Grievous to be here.”

“Why?”

“Because he is hurt,” she explained.  “And he is hurting emotionally.  Those are the wounds that only time and good company can mend.  Considering that he is at war with droids as his companions, I would assume that at least the company is hard for him to come by.  Everyone needs a place of sanctuary, even those who don’t seem to deserve it.”

“And you want Equestria to be Grievous’s.”

“Precisely,” Celestia said with a smile.  “In time, he’ll be better company himself, and who knows?  Perhaps the two of you could be the best of friends,” she joked.

The humor was lost, though, and Luna disentangled herself from the hug.  Keeping her head directed to the floor of the balcony, she said, “It doesn’t sit well with me, sister,” Luna whispered, “but if it is what you want, I will not oppose.”

A look of consideration flashed across Celestia’s face, but it was only there for a second before it was replaced with a serene smile.  “Thank you, sister; that’s all I would ask of you.”  Celestia’s attention went to the night sky.  “It’s beautiful,” she said, leaning in to give Luna a loving kiss on the forehead.  “Good night.”  With that, Celestia rose to her hooves and left.

~~~Canterlot Train Station, Canterlot, 4 days, 9 hours and 45 minutes after the Ambush at Equus~~




Finally, after a short and silent walk through some of the city’s empty streets, the train station came into view.  It was already late into the afternoon, nearly evening, and the sun was beginning to sink.  It was the time of day that most ponies were getting out of work and were headed home, some of which required train service to do so.  Unfortunately for those ponies, much like was the case in Ponyville, the platform was blocked off, this time by a mix of both droids and guards.

“Great; more cramped seats,” Spy muttered aloud as he recalled the tight fit from the previous train ride only a few hours ago.  At least my hands aren’t cuffed behind my back this time.

“At least your hands are free this time,” Rainbow said, mirroring his thought.  At least she was thinking optimistically, despite now having to take care of an alien!

When the group finally got onto the platform, they saw that far fewer ponies were inconvenienced than had been in Ponyville, and as opposed to anger for said inconvenience, most of the small crowd stared at Spy in awe or fear or both once he was within view.  It was something Spy would have to get used to, he supposed, so he did his best to ignore the glares.

As they neared the awaiting transport, one of the ponies blocking off the platform broke file and approached them.  This pegasus was orange as opposed to what seemed to be the standard white, and nearly matched Shining Armor in height.  Said unicorn was giving the approaching pegasus a disappointed look.  “Private Sentry, you’re not to break file unless ordered to; where’d your discipline go?” Armor scolded.

“Sorry, Captain,” the Private replied, using a wing and an amazing amount of dexterity to open the saddlebag wrapped around his golden armor and pull out its contents: a bottle of disinfectant, and a cotton ball, “but I have orders from the Princess to treat the alien’s cut.”

Spy’s hand went up to rub the cut Grievous had given him that he had somehow forgotten about.  It didn’t hurt and it had stopped bleeding shortly after having opened, but it hadn’t completely closed either.  Still, though, he didn’t know what kinds of bacteria was on Grievous’ hand and had gotten into his bloodstream.  “All yours, Doc,” Spy said to Private Sentry.

“Oh, no, I’m not a doctor, not yet,” Sentry replied as he flew up to be level with Spy.  “I’m still learning to be a field medic.”  He uncapped the bottle and put the cotton ball on the opening, flipping upside down to get the cotton ball wet with disinfectant solution before quickly returning it upright.  Sentry dabbed the wet cotton ball along the length of the cut, which stung Spy a little, though he’d experienced far worse pain before, and once done, returned everything to his saddlebag.  “Do you want a bandage?” Sentry asked, closing up his saddlebag when Spy answered no.

“Was there anything else Celestia wanted done before we leave?” Captain Armor asked Sentry when he didn’t return to his place in the line of droids and guards.

“Um, yes, Captain,” he answered  “It should make sense that Celestia wants him patted down for any remaining weapons before moving into a civilian area.”

Immediately, Spy reached for his grenade pouch and opened it, dumping his grenades into his other hand and distributing them to the ponies around him one at a time.  Rainbow Dash seemed to recognize the device and glared at it angrily.  Once it was empty, he returned it to his person and Shining Armor took them all in his magical grip.

In a similar fashion, the clone went through all of the pockets on his belt as well as any other storage device on him, removing anything that was a weapon or was related to one.  By the time he had finished his own patdown, he had dumped all of his grenades, all of the extra power cells for his weapons, and his knife onto the guard Captain.

He had been honest with disarming himself, leaving himself completely defenseless, bar his armor.  One of the commando droids that was blocking off the platform had broken file when he had started, presumably to do the patdown itself to guarantee that no weapons be left with him.  When Spy finished, the droid didn’t even bother to do a second check, having watched Spy do all the work himself and being able to visually confirm that everything was in order.

“You are clear to proceed,” the droid said to them after it collected all of the items from Shining Armor’s magical grip.  The doors to their awaiting train car were open already, and the three of them entered the car.  Like before, it was a simple passenger car, but it was enough.  Shining Armor took a seat near the center of the car while Dash occupied the seat across the aisle from him.  Seeing as there were no other passengers except for the pair of guards in the very front and very back, Spy sat in the aisle between them, where there was more room.  He was regarded with odd expressions from everyone else, but he ignored them.

Now situated, the door to the car was shut and the train began to move, slowly accelerating as it made way for Ponyville.  The first few minutes went by with quiet amongst them and without incident.  The outskirts of Canterlot came and went soon after, and the descent down the massive mountain began.

Shining Armor, to his disappointment, had claimed the side of the car that gave a wonderful view of the mountain, or in other words, had no view at all.  Bored, he decided to speak to Rainbow Dash.  “So, Rainbow Dash...how have you and your friends been doing?”

“Fine, up until the past few days,” she answered with disinterest, attention instead focused on looking through her window at the landscape and Ponyville far below near the base of the mountain, though making out anything was a chore, as the sun had mostly set by this point.

“So I wasn’t given any warning about anything regarding you or the clone here-”

“Name’s Spy, by the way.”

“-and I’m curious to know why you were brought to Canterlot,” Shining Armor said, hoping to spark some conversation.

Rainbow Dash obliged.  “Because I found Spy and helped lead to his capture, and Celestia wanted to hear my side of the story.”  She looked to Shining Armor.  “You want to hear the story now, am I right?”

To that, Shining Armor shrugged.  “If you want to share, go ahead.”

“Right,” she began.  “So Pinkie Pie; you remember Pinkie Pie, right?”

“Of course.  She’s hard to forget.”

“Yeah.  So she wanted to have a party for the droids that were in Ponyville to thank them for helping deal with the changelings,” Dash explained.  “Because they’re kinda tall, we had to have the party in Applejack’s barn, and only eight droids actually attended, but whatever.  It was still an alright party while it lasted; kinda awkward, though, since the droids didn’t do much of anything, except for one apparently called Leet.

“Some time into the party, I decided to go home and fetch some of my music stuff, ‘cause I thought that maybe they’d like my stuff more than what Pinkie had brought.  On my way back from getting my things, I saw Spy running across a road going through the woods while carrying a huge bunch of berries, and since those wanted posters had said clones were to be attacked on sight, that’s what I did.”

“Just think,” Spy interrupted, “if you had gotten there just a couple second earlier or a couple seconds later, we’d have completely missed each other.”

Rainbow scoffed.  “I think we’d’ve both liked it better that way.”

“Nah; I was in pretty deep before you happened across me,” Spy replied.  “Still am, but at least it’s a hole as opposed to a punji pit.  I’ll have you know that you’ve saved me from potential starvation -hence the berries I was collecting- and immediate execution...an ‘accident’ on the droids’ part is still a complete possibility, but whatever; it’s the least I deserve.”

There were a few awkward seconds of silence as they all struggled to think of something to say.  Giving up, Shining Armor simply changed the topic completely.  “Right, so Dash, what happened next?”

“I brought him to the party hoping that the droids there would deal with him-”

“You scoundrel,” Spy interjected, once again out of turn.  “I knew it was a trap, but still, that’s low.”

She glared at him.  “I didn’t exactly have a lot of options, considering you had your shooty thing pointed directly at me,” Dash shot back harshly.  Before Spy could muster a response, Dash continued to tell her story to Shining Armor.  “As I was saying, I was hoping the droids would take care of him, but that backfired and he ran into the Everfree.  AJ and I went after him, but he ambushed us and threatened to kill AJ unless I told the other droids in Ponyville that he was surrendering.”

“I don’t know if this is a good time to mention this,” Spy tentatively began, “but I feel that I should inform you that AJ was in no danger.  My blaster -that’s what the ‘shooty thing’ is called- had been EMPed just like the droids, so it couldn’t even fire anyway.”

“I don’t know whether that makes me hate you more or not,” Dash grumbled.  Her story continued, though.  “But yeah, I delivered his message and terms, but the droids brought me along because I found him first.  And now Celestia has me taking care of him and making sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

Shining Armor took a moment to look over the clone more closely, sizing him up.  Turning back to Rainbow Dash, he said, “Pardon the pun, but that seems like it could be a tall order.  If you’d like, I’m sure I could help you out a bit; I plan to stay in Ponyville a bit anyhow.”

Shrugging, and suddenly seeming much more relaxed, Dash said, “Sure, if you find the time.”

“I like how you’re both assuming I’m going to be a problem,” Spy noted.

“Would that assumption be incorrect?” Shining asked, facing Spy.  A response began to come out of Spy, but Shining cut him off.  “Actually, since we’re on the topic, I might as well say this now: Republic, CIS, neutral; I don’t care what faction you claim to be a part of, my allegiance lies with Equestria, and with those who also work for Equestria’s betterment.”  The intensity in his voice grew as he spoke further.  “But if you have ill will for Equestria, I will see to it that you are eliminated; peacefully, if possible, but I would gladly use lethal force if the defense of Equestria calls for it.  So tell me: will I have to use lethal force against you?”

That wasn’t an easy question for Spy answer; there were so many variables to be taken into account that a definite answer was difficult to provide.  After a few seconds, though, he gave his best effort.  “Shiny, that’s a tough question to answer.  I no longer associate with the Republic for personal reasons, but I can assure you that the Republic and myself would mean Equestria no harm.  

“However, that all changes if you guys are allied with the CIS.  It will look like we intend to harm you, but us clones and the Republic are the good guys in the war.  To us,” he said, gesturing to himself, “you are unfortunate bystanders in our conflict, and as such, we would never intentionally harm you or put you in harm’s way; any clone hostilities would be directed at the droids and Grievous.  All I want is the life that the Republic denied me, so expect to find no trouble from me.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Shining Armor said.  He then scooted over in his seat so that he was next to the window, which he rested his head on and promptly began to doze off.  Dash took his cue and looked out her own window.

A surprising amount of time had passed, and they were about a third of the way down the mountain side.  The sun was sitting just over the horizon, indicating that it was nearly evening, and that it would likely be dark or nearly so when they finally reached Ponyville.

Neither Shining Armor or Rainbow Dash seemed to have any further inclination to speak, so Spy resigned himself to following Armor’s lead and taking a nap.  He leaned back and laid on the floor of the train car as well as he could.  It still sucked, but it was better than anything he had slept on since leaving the LZ, and he very quickly fell into a light sleep.

~~~Ponyville Train Station, Ponyville, 4 days and 11 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~




The train entered the station slowly, hissing loudly as the machine came to a complete stop at the platform.  The platform itself was vacant aside from a few select ponies, those being the Station’s employees and the group of friends who were waiting patiently for the car’s occupants to come out.

At least, all but one of them was waiting patiently.

“They’re here!” Pinkie Pie called out excitedly to the rest of her friends, bouncing in a small circle before hopping her way to the door of the train car.  Behind her, her friends got up from the benches they had been sitting on and followed, eventually gathering in front of the door, though they left enough room for somepony to step out without obstruction.

As they passed by the car’s windows, they noticed that most of them had the blinds down, and that none of the ones that didn’t had Rainbow Dash or Shining Armor behind them.  They found it somewhat odd, but simultaneously trivial.

Inside the car, Rainbow Dash groggily awoke from the nap that she had succumbed to as a result of the hour and activity of the day.  Shining Armor also stirred from the car’s sudden lack of motion, though Spy continued to slumber.

“We there?” Shining tiredly asked, punctuating with a yawn.

“Yeah,” Dash said, finding the Captain’s yawn contagious.  “Help me get him up,” she requested, kicking Spy’s leg lightly.  Defying expectation, that alone was enough to jar the sleeping clone awake.

“Ah,” Spy sighed contentedly.  “That was the best sleep I’ve gotten in days.”

“We’re in Ponyville,” Dash told him matter-of-factly.  “We’ll let Shining Armor get out first.”

Doing as instructed, Shining Armor stepped out into the car’s aisle and past Dash, making his way to the door.  He opened it and stepped out, being immediately welcomed by an excited Twilight Sparkle.  “Hey, Twily,” he greeted, pulling her into a hug as she very nearly tackled him.

“Hi BBBFF!” Twilight returned, letting go of him afterwards.

Armor greeted the rest of the gathered friends in kind, then resumed speaking directly to his sister.  “Listen, I apologize for dropping in on such short notice, and I’m sorry if I’m any trouble for you,” he said.  “Things got a little fierce in Canterlot and I need some time to cool off.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, Shiny; your letter was warning enough, and you’re always welcome here,” Twilight assured.

“Still, it was too short notice for my tastes,” Armor replies, frowning.  “If you haven’t eaten yet, let me take you and Spike out for dinner tonight.  Just...let’s leave discussing the past couple days for tomorrow, please?”

Wisely not refusing the free food, Twilight agreed and left it at that.  Applejack continued speaking.  “Rainbow Dash wouldn’ happen ta be wich’a, would she?”

“Yeah, she’s on board,” Shining answered, stepping away from the door finally.  “I’m gonna have to ask you all to not freak out or anything, though; she’s brought an acquaintance along with her.”

Rainbow Dash stepped out onto the platform shortly after, greeting her friends with an unenthused smile.  “‘Sup, guys.”

“Dashie, you don’t look too happy,” Pinkie instantly pointed out.

“That would be because Princess Celestia dumped that clone guy from earlier on me to take care of,” Dash explained.

“She what now?” Applejack had to ask, not quite believing what she had heard Dash say.

“I know,” Dash replied, stepping away from the door herself.  “Finders’ keepers’, right?  Yeah, Celestia told me to take care of the clone until further notice, so...that’s a thing.”

Finishing off her statement, Spy entered the car door’s threshold, though due to his size, disembarking was actually kind of a struggle.  After a few seconds, he escaped the cramped car, making exaggerated stretching motions and grunting excessively loudly once standing outside the car.  His magical basket was clipped loosely to his belt.  “Ooh, it feels good to stand,” he said mostly to himself.

He stopped stretching and finally took notice of the company around him.  “Heh, small world, right?” he chuckled.  “Long time no see.”  All around, the ponies were all giving him disapproving glares, save for the pink one who instead backed away and gave him a sad look.  “What?” he asked, as if he was completely oblivious to what was causing them discomfort.

“Spy’s promised that he doesn’t want to hurt anypony, and he’s got no weapons or anything on him,” Dash told her friends.

“What, exactly, was he sent here for?” Twilight asked.

“For his safety, I guess.  For now, we just need to keep him away from droids to avoid ‘accidents’, but otherwise, he’s pretty much to do as he told...within reason.”

“And Celestia’s put you in charge of makin’ sure he doesn’t get inta trouble,” Applejack reiterated for clarification.

Rolling her eyes in annoyance, Dash replied with, “That’s what I said.  I gotta make sure he’s provided for, too.  Food’s covered, so that leaves…”  Rainbow trailed off for a second, then facehooved herself.  Hard.  “Gah, I’m an idiot.  Spy can’t fly; how would I think of housing him in my home long-term?”

“Not to mention that I’m, like, double your height,” Spy decided to add to make the dilemma worse.

“Ugh, and it’s late, too,” Rainbow mused, looking up to the evening sky.

“I’d offer my place for you, Rainbow,” Rarity began, “but I don’t think I exactly trust him and Sweetie in the same building.”

“You can stay at my place,” Fluttershy offered, “but the ceilings are kind of low, and I don’t think he’d fit well.”

“I don’t think the Cakes would be too happy about Pinkie bringing the clone with her for the night,” Twilight noted, “and I’ve already got company.”

Sighing, Rainbow said, “No, it’s cool.  You guys have your reasons, and Spy’s my problem anyways.”

“Ugh,” Applejack groaned in disgust, shamefully pulling her hat a little lower down her face.  “Ah can’t quite believe Ah’m sayin’ this, but wouldja care ta use the barn?”

The amount of relief that washed over Rainbow Dash was beyond measure.

~~~Everfree Forest, Equestria, 4 days and 15 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~




It was over.  Finally, the bog had been cleared.  Their march through the filth and the detritus was over, and the clones could not be happier for that fact.  Figuratively speaking, of course.  Nonetheless, though, the painfully slow trek was over and they could finally rest.

With a loud thunk, Gore dropped himself down against a dark, looming tree.  He was panting and exhausted from the exertion done to get through the deceptively massive bog.  But sitting down after nearly ten straight hours of...he was hesitant to call it marching; slogging was probably a better verb...slogging through the terrain brought about a relief greater than any he’d felt before in his short life.

Against a nearby tree, Viktor did the same, contentedly sighing as his and his armor’s weight was finally taken off his weary legs.  The two of them were sore all over.  Puddles of mud had made walking an effort during their time in the bog, and having to carry R8 for the past few hours had strained their arms.  Gore additionally had a weighty weapon magnetized to his back, which didn’t help things any for him.  Despite all that, though, Gore couldn’t help but feel that Shy had it worse off, having to deal with not only getting stuck in mud, but doing so with only one good leg.  But Shy showed nothing of pain or exhaustion, quietly finding a place between Gore and Viktor so that the three of them formed a nice little triangle.

And little it was.  Being out of the bog meant that they were now in the Everfree Forest.  It was late at night according to the clones’ mission clocks, but they felt that things’d be pretty much just as dark had it been midday based on how completely covering the tree canopy was.  Being in such poor lighting made seeing details impossible, but the shapes of the numerous trees showed, revealing crooked, misshapen trunks and branches.

Then there was the matter of simply how many trees there were.  Everfree was a plentiful forest for sure, but the area the clones had finally stopped in was almost claustrophobic, it was that tightly packed.  The clones’ clearing was big enough for the three of them to lay down in with a fair amount of room for each of them to shuffle around in, but not much more.

Gore let out a relaxed sigh as the day’s wear began to draw him to sleep.  He looked down to his muddied gauntlet, which nearly blended in with the ground under him, and began to distractedly scrape away at the clinging dirt.  As he did that, Viktor removed his gauntlets, gloves, helmet, and pack, and began shuffling through the pack with his clean hands.

“This isn’t good,” Viktor muttered to himself as his scrounging came to an end.

“What’s not, Sir?” Gore asked concernedly, halting his scraping.

Pulling three small packages from the pack, Viktor tossed one to both Gore and Shy.  “These are the last of our rations,” Viktor explained.  “Today was a heck of a day.  I’m afraid we can’t afford to skip this meal, lest we risk some terrible consequences tomorrow.”

During the time of their travelling, Gore’s increasing hunger had mostly gone ignored, as his training had taught him to do.  But now, with the poor excuse for food in hand, he couldn't help but feel a little sick from the lack of nutrition compounded with the immense caloric expenditures of the past couple days.

“Dig in,” Viktor morosely invited his companions to do, opening his own ration afterwards.

Following his lead, Shy and Gore removed their helmets and began to eat.  Gore, like Viktor, removed his dirtied gloves and gauntlets before touching his food, whereas Shy kept his right hand completely dressed.

As they ate their meager meals, the clones didn’t say anything to one another or to R8, who was staying put between Gore and Viktor, right where they had set him down.  Instead, the sounds of the forest pervaded their temporary camp.  The chirping of crickets was chief among the sounds, though other, more intimidating sounds such as the howls of wolves, the scraping of claws against stone, and the occasional lion-like roar added to the eerie chorus.

A few minutes passed before they had finished eating, feeling immensely satisfied with having their stomachs at least filled with something.  Their armor was quickly replaced and silence again resumed.

Gore leaned back against his tree as far he could, his weapon having been set off to the side some time ago.  He stared up to the canopy above him, thinking.

“Alright squad,” Viktor suddenly began, startling the other two clones and immediately garnering their attentions.  “We need to work out a plan for the next few days.  I think we’ve earned ourselves a day’s rest considering what we went through today.  Tomorrow should be used to scout out the area, possibly locate a food and water source for ourselves, especially considering we don’t know how long we may have to take shelter in this forest, and the fact that we’re now out of food.  Thoughts? Input?”

“Sounds fine to me, Sir,” Gore answered for both himself and Shy.

“Once we’ve ascertained those two resources,” the Captain continued, “then we’ll see about scouting Ponyville and seeing what the tinnies are up to.  Then further, once we figure out what they’re here for, then we’ll determine what to do about them.”

There were no objections or inputs of any other kind, and the camp once again fell quiet.  Gore leaned back and resumed his thinking.

“Wonder what’s become of Spy,” Gore mused to himself, though Viktor overheard.

“Dead, probably,” theorized Viktor.  “He’s either starved, been eaten himself, was victimized by his own stupidity, or had a run-in with the Seps.”

“Yeah,” Gore agreed.  “Not that I care.”  Another thought came to him.  “What if he was right, though, in abandoning the Republic like that?  It’s not like we owe them anything, so why should we even involve ourselves with stopping the droids?”

“Because the droids’d have us killed regardless of whether we claim to be Republic or not.  There’s no way we could make peace with them, so why bother.”

“That’s...reasonable, I suppose,” Gore agreed.  Thinking on it, even considering the idea of clones and droids not killing each other while in the same area seemed sort of ridiculous.  If was just too outlandish to ever be possible.

Viktor took the initiative on the next line of conversation.  “Alright Gore, you had me tell my story last night.  It’s only fair that you tell yours.

Gore shrugged.  “Not much to tell there, Sir.  Been 212th ever since Geonosis.  Heavy infantryman; front lines.  Always liked killing stuff; actual living enemies like those freaky buggers on Geonosis were always the most satisfying.  The First Battle of Geonosis was my first deployment.  I got through that alive and didn’t really do much of anything aside from small skirmishes until the Second Battle of Geonosis.  That was a fun time.

“The buggers had ambushed us good.  General Kenobi’s gunship got grounded, so the entire 212th gunship force had to drop off the AT-TEs to encircle his gunship and provide cover.  Most of the infantry was dropped off within the circle of tanks so that the gunships could go out, minimizing potential casualties.  I was dropped off like that and immediately went to go shoot stuff.

“I used the leg of an AT-TE for cover while I shot at the buggers, but after some time, the tank I was hiding behind got compromised.  The gunner up top managed to leap off before the thing exploded, which gave me enough warning to back mostly out of harm’s way.”  His hand went to his helmet, rubbing the part where it was cracked.  “It still did explode and a piece of shrapnel clipped my helmet, cracking it and making it how it is now.  Was still a hefty blow, though, and I can’t really remember what happened long after that.

“I can distinctly recall an ARF trooper dragging me away from the wrecked tank, but I can’t recall a word he said.  I must’ve passed out after that, and was out for the rest of the battle.  Since then, though, I hadn’t had any deployments save this one.”  Gore finished his story with a nonchalant shrug.  “Like I said: not much to tell.  Certainly nothing as prestigious as Muunilinst on my resumé.”

“Still,” Viktor said, “surviving both Geonosian battles is still quite an achievement.”

“Eh, maybe,” Gore replied with disinterest.  Looking to Shy, he said, “Regardless, now that that’s been said, I think it’s Shy’s turn to strut his stuff.”

“No,” Shy answered, uncharacteristically strongly.

“Don’t worry, Shy,” Viktor assured, “you don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to.  It’s not our place to pry.”  There was a pause.  “I still want an explanation about the magna guards, though,” he amended.

Shy stayed silent for a few seconds before weakly answering with, “Later.”

“It’d have to be,” said Viktor.  “It’s late as it is and we’re all tired and sore.  We should be resting now.  Two one and a half hour lookout shifts each tonight, I’ll take first watch.”

Confirming their agreement, Gore and Shy each nestled into their spots as comfortably as they could.  A deep and relaxing sleep quickly overtook their weary minds, and the camp fell into a calm quiet.

> Chapter 14: Intersection— Part 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~~Road to Sweet Apple Acres, Ponyville, 4 days, 11 hours and 15 minutes after the Ambush at Equis~~~




Thanks to the lateness of the hour, not many ponies could be found roaming around Ponyville, especially as far out as the town’s outskirts, where Sweet Apple Acres was located.  This was preferable, though, as it meant that the three ponies that were traveling that far wouldn’t have to stop to explain their alien guest to anyone.

Applejack led the group, followed by Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, who was making her way to her own home, which was located further down the road than the Acres and rested just outside Ponyville’s city limits.  Behind them trailed Spy, who followed at a leisurely gait while happily eating yet another apple conjured by his gift from Discord.

Shortly after stepping off the train, Dash’s friends had given her time to quickly fly to her house to drop off Spy’s helmet while they watched Spy.  When that was done, she had returned to them to tell them goodbye before finally departing from the train station.  Since leaving, Applejack had tried to encourage some sort of conversation, but Rainbow Dash seemed to be in no mood for it, and Spy’s presence seemed to make Fluttershy too nervous to want to contribute.  Thus, they walked through the darkness in awkward silence, all eagerly waiting for the gates of Sweet Apple Acres to come into view.

Finally, after a few more minutes, a light became visible, which, as they got nearer, could be made out to be a lantern hung on the thin wooden arch that signified the entryway to the Acres.  Fluttershy spared a cautionary glance back towards Spy, then asked, “Um, are you two okay with him on your own, or do you want some help watching him?”

“I’m not going to do anything, for goodness sake.  Why are you ponies so paranoid?” Spy pouted, but was ignored.

“Nah,” Applejack answered, “Ah think we’ll be fine.  ‘Sides, if he tries somethin’,-”

“Which I won’t.”

“-then we’ve got Big Mac ta make sure he stays in line.”  With that concluded, they reached the Acre’s entryway.  “Well, then, ‘Shy, looks like this is goodbye for the night.  Good night, and we’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Well, uh, okay, then,” Fluttershy replied softly, moving in to give Applejack a brief hug.  “I’ll see you two tomorrow,” she said, breaking her hug with Applejack to give a similar one to Rainbow Dash.

Dash reciprocated the action, saying, “G’night, Flutters.”  When they separated, Spy came a step closer, arms open as if invite a hug, to which Fluttershy fearfully retreated a couple paces.

“Aw, c’mon, no hug for me?” he said with mock disappointment.  He returned his arms to his sides, suspending his invitation, commenting, “Aliens get no respect here.”  

On that rough note, Fluttershy left, and when she was gone, Applejack gave the clone a stern glare.  “Ah ain’t gonna stand you scarin’ ‘n’ disrespectin’ mah friends like that again, ya hear?  Any’a that behavior tomorrow, an’ yer goin’ straight t’the droids.”

“Just chill, Applejack; goodness,” Spy said in an attempt to calm her down.  “I was only joking; I didn’t really expect a hug, and it wasn’t my intent to scare her.”  He gave a second of consideration.  “But, if she had given me a hug, I certainly wouldn’t have complained.”

To that, Applejack’s glare only hardened, and Dash was now sharing the same expression. 

“I...probably could have worded that better.  What I meant to imply was that hugs are nice.  Or, that’s what I’ve heard. I don’t really know for sure, though; no one’s actually hugged me before.”

“Ah ain’t surprised,” muttered Applejack, walking away and into Sweet Apple Acres.  “Now c’mon an’ let me show ya where ya’ll be sleepin’ tonight before Ah reconsider mah offer.”  The other two followed her, going past the sizeable two story wooden building that served as the Apples’ home and coming up to the barn.  She pushed one of the doors open and entered, then held it open so that Spy and Dash could enter.

A couple of lit lanterns hung from the ceiling rafters.  Both the remnants of Pinkie’s party and the droids that Rainbow had inadvertently droidpopped had been cleared away, leaving the barn back in its normal state, nearly completely vacant save for a couple of hay bales in one of the corners, a small array of farming equipment lined against one of the walls, and a few extraneous barrels and crates scattered about the perimeter.

“‘Ere ya are, Spy.  Feel free ta use the hay in the corner as a mattress, but other than that, Ah don’t want ya touchin’ anythin’.”

“Gotcha,” confirmed Spy.  “Anything else?”

“Ya ain’t stayin’ ‘ere fer free.  If ya want ta use the barn, yer gonna have ta help out aroun’ the farm.  Recent events have messed with the schedule a little bit, and we’ve got a lot’a work cut out fer us over the next couple’a days, so it’s best ya get some good, long rest.”

“Fair enough,” Spy said, walking over to the hay bales and flopping down on top of them.  He found them to be surprisingly comfortable, and also found himself beginning to doze off almost immediately.  “I’ll help out in whatever way I possibly can.”  And then he was out like a light.

Dash eyed the sleeping clone suspiciously, saying, “He slept, like, the entire train ride here; there’s no way he could possibly be that tired.”

“Cut ’im some slack, Dash.  It’s about time we all hit the hay ourselves; we’ve got a long day ahead’a us tomorrow.”

“In that case, I should probably be going,” Rainbow said, turning to leave.  “Thanks so much for doing this for me, I’ll be- woah!”

She was interrupted by a strong yank on her tail, flinging her towards Applejack, whom she landed in front of roughly.  “Ow,” she complained, then looked to Applejack.

“Hold yer horses, there, partner; when did Ah ever say Ah was doin’ this for you?” Applejack inquired harshly.

“Um, well, uh, I thought-” Dash stuttered out while rising to her hooves, but was interrupted again by Applejack.

“Ya thought wrong,” she said forcefully, giving Dash a sharp glare.  Her expression softened a bit as soon as Dash recoiled from her.  “Look, Ah ain’t takin’ care’a him for ya, but Ah am helpin’ ya out with ‘im.  The Princess said he was yours to look out for, and Ah’m gonna make sure you’re lookin’ out for ‘im.”  With a tilt of her head, Applejack gestured towards the rafters near the top to the barn.  “So long as Spy’s stayin’ in my barn, ya’re too, an’ you’ll be helpin’ us out tomorrow.”

“Ugh, but Applejack, you wake up so early!” Dash whined in a futile attempt to get away from the clone.

To that, Applejack merely rolled her eyes.  “Mornin’ ain’t early, sugarcube.  ‘Sides, it’s only fair that you help me in exchange for helpin’ you.”

With a sigh, Dash relented.  “Yeah, I guess.”

“Don’ sound so glum,” Applejack said, giving her friend a reassuring pat on the back.  “I’ll go getcha some blankets and a pillow so ya can at least get comfortable.  Then in the mornin’, you’ll be treated to a traditional Apple family breakfast, how does that sound?”

It sounded wonderful to Dash, who had always loved Granny Smith’s -and the rest of the Apple family’s, for that matter- cooking, and she immediately perked up.

“Thought so,” Applejack said, smirking smugly as she made her way to the barn door.  “Now you find a spot where you think you can get comfortable, and Ah’ll be back in a minute with them blankets.”  Applejack softly closed the door behind her as she exited, and went to grab said items for Dash.

In the barn, Rainbow did as Applejack suggested, flying up to the rafters to find a sturdy looking beam to lay on that was also rather distant from Spy.  Eventually, she settled herself in effectively the corner opposite of where Spy was.  She gave the beam a quick test for strength and to see if it had any splinters that could end up discomforting or even puncturing her.  Finding both conditions satisfactory, she gently landed on it and rolled onto her back, now only waiting for Applejack.

Even without a pillow or coverings, the beam was surprisingly comfortable, though that may have been attributable to her exhaustion.  Nonetheless, it felt very similar to a tree branch, which she was accustomed to napping on, only was a few inches wider, meaning less capacity for her to roll off.

After another minute or so, Applejack came back through the door, a small stack a sheets and a couple of pillows balanced on her back, leaving the door open behind her as she stepped in.  It took the farmpony a second to locate Dash, as she was, after all, slightly secluded, but when Applejack found her, she gave Dash a deadpan look.  “Why am Ah not surprised?”  She made her way to where Dash was, snatched one of the pillows off her back with her teeth, and chucked it up to Dash, who caught it easily.

“Not surprised about what?” Dash asked, genuinely unsure of what her friend was referring to as she fluffed out the pillow.

“Not surprised that ya tried to find the spot furthest from Spy’s what Ah meant.  Here.”  Applejack tossed up one of the folded blankets, which Dash caught before it could begin to unfold in the air.

“You can’t blame me for doing that, though; you know that you’d do the same if you were in my place,” Rainbow argued.

“Ah ain’t never said Ah wouldn’t.”  She sighed, then tossed another blanket up to Dash.  “It’s only been a short while that we’ve been acquainted, but Ah already feel as if we’re being maybe a bit too harsh on ‘im.  If ‘is intention was to hurt us, he’s had plenty of chances ta do that, but so far he hasn’t, so he can’t be all bad.”

Rainbow scoffed.  “I think you’re being a little too optimistic, AJ.”

“Perhaps,” she shrugged.  “There’s a lot ya kin learn ‘bout somepony by the way they labor, so tomorrow we should be able to see if he’s trouble or not.”  Glancing back though to open door to the night sky, Applejack determined, “It’s pretty late.  Ah’ma go to bed.  Good night.”

“Night, AJ.”  There was still a pillow and blanket resting on Applejack’s back.  Instead of heading directly out, she approached Spy, catching the interest of Rainbow, who was fixing up her place to sleep.  Once by Spy’s side, she lifted his head up enough to slide the pillow underneath, then opened up the blanket, pulling it up to around Spy’s shoulders.

That done, Applejack passed through the open door, calling out one final ‘Good night’ before shutting it.

Dash continued to look in Spy’s direction, watching as has nestled slightly under his new covers, thin smile forming across his lips.  The way he reacted was like a foal being tucked into bed by its mother really, and it was somewhat saddening to see the fully grown individual take as if it were a novelty.  On the train, Spy had said something about having been deprived of various things.  He apparently had never received a hug before, so maybe other familial affections were also taken from him.  Perhaps he didn’t even have a family at all?  Perhaps-

While the clone was still a mystery, a few things were still clear regarding him.  There were obvious familial and social depravities; things that Dash and her friends took for granted were lost on the clone.  Maybe AJ was right: maybe I am being a little too harsh.

That conclusion in mind, Dash finally tore her gaze away from Spy, focusing once again on getting comfortable atop her wooden beam.  Having fluffed the pillow out to her maximum capacity and snuggling tightly in her blankets, she found things satisfactory and drifted off to sleep like her clone counterpart.




There was a dark and empty void around him, except for three thin pillars of light only a couple of feet in front of a hunchbacked figure, who was staring at the three pillars.  The figure was undoubtedly Grievous.  He had his back towards Spy, though it was covered by a large cape.  But Grievous was not as Spy remembered, no longer solid, instead seemingly made of some sort of ethereal fog that would distort ever so slightly on an unfelt current.

Spy couldn’t move.  He looked around, but still there was nothing except for Grievous and the three pillars in the colors of orange, blue, and red.  With nothing else to look at, Spy watched Grievous’s unmoving form watch the light.  What seemed like minutes passed, when suddenly there was a sudden creaking sound which reverberated throughout the void.

Startled, Grievous looked frantically to his left and right, trying to find the source of the creaking, but was unable to.  Then, he reached for the pillars of light, reaching out for them with one arm.  In one sweeping motion, he grasped all three shafts, and as he touched them, they began to recede into themselves giving off the unmistakable hiss of a lightsaber.

The three pillars of light coalesced in Grievous's hand, leaving behind three silver cylinders, also appearing to be made of the same fog that composed Grievous.  While Spy was unable to see any specific details, he could still make the three cylinders to be lightsaber hilts.  Weapons in hand, Grievous finally turned around, facing Spy.

Grievous’s eyes were not his normal yellow, cat-like ones.  The sockets where they should have been were empty, occupied instead by voids of the pitchest black, giving the already fiendish appearing monster a greater devilish look.  He thrust out his arm holding the lightsabers, somehow finding a free finger to point at Spy accusingly.

“I claim these trophies because of you,” Grievous taunted, exposing the inside of his cape, revealing a dozen lightsabers already fastened to its underside, then added the three he held to his collection.

The world began shaking, lightly at first, then more violently.  Grievous began to dissipate, dissolving completely out of existence, and a voice began calling out throughout the darkness.  “Hey, Spy, ya'lright?”




“Hey, Spy, ya'lright?” Applejack asked concernedly as she lightly shook the sleeping clone.  His eyes shot open immediately and his hand instinctively went down to his holster.  Finding it empty, he sighed and sat up.  “You were gettin’ a little twitchy there.  Bad dream?”

“No, it’s not that,” said Spy as he stretched his arms out.  “I just had some...strange hallucination.  Is that a side effect of apples?”

“Uh, no,” she stated bluntly.  “What you had was a bad dream.”

That caught Spy’s attention.  “A...dream?”

Applejack scoffed in annoyance.  “Seriously?  Do ya not know what a ‘dream’ is?”

“No, I know what dreaming is...I think; it’s just that us clones are conditioned to not dream when we sleep,” he explained.  “We’ve got to be alert and aware of our surroundings at all times, even when sleeping, just in case something tries to get a cheap shot on us, and dreams and nightmares are distractions in that regard.”

She gave him a sympathetic look.  “This Republic’a yers really seems ta not like you or yer kin.”

“It’s not my Republic anymore.  Anyways, you’re here, so I imagine it’s time for briefing?”

“Not quite,” she answered.  “It’s regardin‘ you and Rainbow; Ah’ll tell ya both when she’s up.”  Applejack then made towards Rainbow, stopping just below the rafter she was soundly resting on.  “Rainbow!” Applejack shouted.  “Get yer lazy behind up!”

Rainbow didn’t stir.  More shouting failed to rouse the dead-to-the-world peagsus.  “Alright, where’s my lasso?” Applejack asked aloud, giving up the passive approach, and began to scrounge around the barn for a length of rope to make a lasso out of.  When her search came up empty, she growled in annoyance.  “Sit tight there,” she ordered, “Ah’ll be back in a sec.”

Finally standing up, Spy bunched up his covering and laid it next to his pillow, saying to her, “Don’t bother; I’ll get her for you.”  He received a wary look from Applejack, but she didn’t object.  There was a wooden support column that connected with the rafter Dash was sleeping on, and the way she was laying left her head only about a foot from the connection point.  Spy made his way to said column.  It was only about a meter higher than he was, and looked like it would be no trouble to climb.  He wrapped his legs around the column and used the friction between his thigh armor and the wood to shimmy his way up.  The column held, and in no time, he was level with Dash.

There was something about waking others up in creative ways that Spy seemed to excel at.  Sadly, while he didn’t have Haze on hand to repeat Shy’s genius technique, something devious quickly came to mind.  It was fortunate that Dash’s face was so close, or else his idea would have not been plausible.

Carefully, he leaned towards her so that his face was only a few inches from her face, then put on an unblinking, zombie-like look.  Creepy face ready, he inhaled quietly, then blew a light puff of air into her face.

The effect was immediate.  She twitched a little, then groggily opened her eyes, only to find the clone’s unsettling visage mere inches away.  Dash’s eyes widened drastically, and she let out a yelp and rolled to the side, falling off the rafter and only barely managing to catch herself before she would have hit the ground.  One of her flailing limbs managed to catch the clone in the face, knocking him loose from the column.  He fell to his back with a loud thud, but that failed to stop his hysterical outburst.

Even Applejack snickered a little at her friend’s expense, but Rainbow was much less enthused.  “What the buck was that!?” she shouted at Spy, disgruntled, but Spy continued to fail to contain himself.  “That wasn’t funny!”

“As a prankster yerself, Ah’d’a thought you’d be a bit more receptive to a good joke,” Applejack remarked as she made her way to Spy’s side to help him up.  “Ya’lright?”

His laughter finally subsiding, Spy pushed himself into a sitting position.  “Yeah, I’m fine.  Armor took the brunt of the fall.  I’ll probably take it off today, though, since I probably won’t be needing it, and it’ll be good to finally get out of it.  Anyways, the two of us are up, so what did you want to say?”

“Right, well,” Applejack started, shifting her focus to Dash, “when Ah went in ta get blankets and such fer the both of ya last night, everypony else was asleep, so right now, nopony else knows that the two of ya are here, and Ah’m not gonna let Spy near Applebloom, at least not yet.

“So here’s the deal:” she said, looking between the both of them, “Ah want ta sit down for breakfast with just us Apples ta tell ‘em ‘bout the situation.  While Ah do that, the two of ya sit tight here.  Big Mac’s gonna bring Applebloom to school, at which point Ah’ll come here and, if Granny Smith’s up to meetin’ an alien, bring the both of ya in for your breakfasts.  If she’s not, then Ah’ll sit in here to watch Spy as Rainbow gets somethin’ ta eat, while you, Spy, can just use yer magic food basket thing.”

There was no objection from either of them, so Applejack left the barn and returned to the house.  As soon as she had left, Rainbow returned to her previous spot, contented to just lay there, saying nothing to Spy, who took the opportunity to remove his armor.  With  practiced motions, he unsealed and removed each of his armor plates from the black bodysuit underneath, setting them against the nearby wall.  Out of habit, he reached up to his head to remove his helmet.

He snickered when his hand met nothing, the fact that Dash was in possession of his helmet having slipped his mind up to that point, which reminded him of of something else that had been bugging him since joining the company of the unfriendly pegasus.  “Hey, Dash, remember yesterday when we first ran into each other and you told me that my face was different?  What did you mean by that?”

Not even bothering to give the clone her attention, she answered, “One of your pod thingys landed close to Canterlot, so Grievous ran there and I followed.  There were some clones there that we fought off, but their helmets had a T shape as opposed to what you’ve got.  At the time, though, I didn’t know that they were helmets, and thought they were actually your face.”

“By fought,” Spy hesitantly asked as he wriggled out of the bodysuit, “do you mean...killed?”

“Hey, I didn’t kill anypony; Grievous did,” Rainbow snapped, rolling to look down to Spy.  “And I only got involved to protect Grievous, ‘cause one of you guys was gonna shoot him in the back, and whether you like it or not, Grievous is my friend.  Plus, one of them tried to shoot me.”

With the bodysuit off, Spy was left in his standard non-combat clothing: a red shirt with dark red sleeves, a red pair of pants, and a pair of light grey socks.  Having no other footwear options, Spy put his boots and shin plates roughly back on, though without the bodysuit, they didn’t seal perfectly, which was no matter, as he didn’t expect to face combat again for some time.  While he was at it, and since he thought that it looked cool, he put his gloves back on as well as the rest of his lower arm armor.

As he did this, he contemplated what Dash had said.  A slight frown formed on his face, his playful mood from earlier now killed.  Suddenly, things seemed to make sense as to why Dash simply radiated hate towards him: she had already had a mentally scarring  experience with clones and blasters.  Since running into her, he had done nothing but point guns and other weapons at her and her friends.  He’d been nothing but a jerk, and it was no wonder why exactly zero ponies seemed at all okay with his presence.  Since he was counting his sins, why not tack on the exactly zero squadmates to the list of those who were happy that he existed.

“Look, Dash, I’m sorry,” he said, tone serious, more so than it had been at any point since arriving on-planet.  He sat down on his makeshift mattress while he considered the wording of his apology, which caught Dash’s interest.

“Sorry for what?” she asked, confusion etched on her face.

“I think you know very well what it is, Dash.  It’s been less than a day and already I’ve threatened to kill you at least twice and Applejack once.  You have to understand the desperation of my situation to see why I chose to be so disregarding of your and your friends’ lives, but even understanding won’t bring justification.”  With a pleading expression, he looked up to her, and she glared back.  “I know full well that my actions thus far may and likely will never be forgiven, by any of you, but please, Dash, at the very least, allow me to attempt to redeem myself in the eyes of you and your friends.”

She stared at him contemplatively for a few moments, considering his words.  “It sounds like you’re asking to be my friend,” she inferred as she attempted to decide a course of action.

“That...would be nice,” the clone admitted.  “But,” he started, then shrugged, “I’m certain I’m already too far gone for that.”

“I don’t know about that,” she started lightheartedly.  “At least you haven’t threatened to lead Equestria into eternal chaos, done Celestia-knows-what to the Princess, and made my friends and I all hate each other in an attempt to rule Equestria forever.  And yet, somehow Fluttershy has managed to befriend Discord, so...I’d say your offenses are rather small compared to that.”

“Discord?  Not the same Discord who gave me my magical basket of awesome fruitiness, right?” he asked, bewildered.  How could someone who makes such divine creations be responsible for such atrocities?

“Eeyup,” Dash said with a smirk.  “The very same Discord.  See now why we were all so hesitant to trust that basket?”

He eyed said basket with a cautionary glance, hoping that Discord didn’t rig it to do something awful, or that it wasn’t secretly a weapon of some kind.  Its ability to create something from nothing already astounded him, but it also served to remind him that he had no idea of what was possible and what wasn’t on this world.  With that kind of logic, though, perhaps forgiveness was a possibility after all.

“Anyways,” Dash said, “Applejack is definitely a better judge of character than I am, so I’ll take her word on stuff regarding you.  So if she likes you, chances are I will too.”  Narrowing her eyes, she said to him in a dangerous tone, “For your own good, you better work hard today and impress her.”

Despite her tone, Spy could tell that her ‘warning’ was meant in a joking nature, and he gave her a thin smile.  A weight felt as if it had been lifted off Spy’s shoulders now that he had begun the path to some sort of atonement.  There was nothing left to say, and nothing more to do until Applejack returned, so he let himself sprawl over his haystack and zone out peacefully…

...only to be immediately interrupted by the creaking of the barn’s doors, indicating Applejack’s return.  Said mare slowly nosed the barn door open, cracking it enough for her to squeeze her head in.  Her eyes scanned the barn interior, quickly locating Dash on the rafters, to whom she said, “Granny ain’t up to meetin’ aliens today, so why don’t ya go on in ‘n’ grab a bite.  Ah’ll stay out here with Spy while you do that.”

“Will do, AJ!” Dash excitedly agreed as she hopped to her hooves and zipped to the door, which she held open so Applejack could enter.  Balanced on Applejack’s back was a tray of food, though it looked as if it would topple with any sudden movements, hence her slow walk in Spy’s direction.  “I’ll try not to be too long,” Rainbow said with a salute.  She didn’t give Applejack any time to respond before she had already sped out of the barn.  Chuckling at her friend’s enthusiasm, Applejack made it to Spy’s hay bale without incident and carefully slid the tray onto a space that Spy had cleared.

For the life of him, Spy couldn’t recognize any of the foods on the tray.  There were four rather large circular things, two of them flat and tan, the other two yellow with a grid pattern impressed into it, and they were all doused in some sort of semitransparent brown syrup.  Also on the tray was a small glass of some foamy golden drink as well as a fork and knife.  He decided against asking why ponies had silverware that required hands to operate.

Tentatively, Spy grabbed the fork and poked at the circular things in front of him with a questioning look, which Applejack picked up on.  “Ah know Ah said that you’d be using that basket ya got from Discord to feed yourself, but there ain’t no way any conjuration’a his is gonna beat Granny’s cookin’.  These’re called waffles,” she said, pointing to the patterned circles, “and the others’re called pancakes, or flapjacks, whichever you prefer.”

“They look delicious,” Spy commented, remembering back to the tasteless, odorless ration blobs that the Republic passed off as food that he didn’t miss in the slightest.  He also noticed that, unlike his typical meal, these ‘pancakes’ and ‘waffles’ had a smell to them, and a pleasant one at that.  “They smell good, too,” he said.  “Do civvies always eat stuff like this?”

“Uh...no,” Applejack answered.  “These’re actually really basic compared to the stuff ponies normally eat.  Why?  What’s food like where you’re from?”

Well, that was an easy question to answer.  He tapped the wooden wall behind him.  “Imagine eating a squishy block of wood.  I haven’t actually done that, but I would assume that the experience is approximately the same or better.”

A disgusted look crossed Applejacks face as she tried to wipe the imagined taste off her tongue.  “That’s terrible!  Is it like that everywhere?”

“Nah, just for us clones.  Really, for a government that claims to hold the moral high ground, it really treats its soldiers like dirt.  Worse than, actually.”

“Could ya tell me one good thing ‘bout the Republic?” Applejack asked, curious to hear if there were any redeeming qualities to it.

And if there were, they were obviously few and far between, as it took Spy a couple of minutes of contemplation to form an answer.  “Um...I guess I can be proud that the face of the Republic is not some evil, scheming Sith lord.  Other than that...nothing.”

“Shame; makes me a might bit happier that Grievous found us first.”  Applejack gestured towards Spy’s food, quickly changing topics.  “Anyway, Ah figured you’d appreciate somethin’ other than apples ta eat, and waffles ‘n’ pancakes’re a good way to start off th’ mornin’.”

He gave her a quick nod and a small smile, saying, “I greatly appreciate the consideration,” before hungrily attacking the food.




In very little time, Spy had consumed his portion and was satisfied with the amount he was given.  Not long after he had finished eating, Rainbow returned from her own meal, and now the two of them stood ready to listen to what Applejack had on the agenda for the day.

“We’ve got a lot of work cut out for us today,” the farm mare began, pacing in front of the other as they stood at attention, out of habit for Spy, and probably because it just seemed like the right thing to do for Dash.  “The whole changeling thing put mah buckin’ schedule a li’l behind, but thanks ta Pinkie yesterday, the two’a us managed ta harvest everythin’ that I planned to.  Normally, Ah’d’ve stored the apples in the barn, but since Pinkie wanted to have her party here, we instead put them in the cellar just behind the barn.

“With the buckin’ done, all that’s left is ta pick out the bad apples and sort and package the good ones.  When we’ve actually got some apples to sort, Ah’ll tell ya how ta sort’em, but first thing’s first, we’ve gotta get a couple’a the barrels out from the cellar.”  Her brief explanation of the day’s work finished, Applejack looked to Spy and Dash.  “Any questions?”

“No, ma’am,” they said in unison, Dash giving her a salute as well.

Nothing more needing to be said, Applejack turned towards the barn door and led the way out, holding it open for Dash and Spy to exit, leading them around to the back of the barn once they had.  Sure enough, behind the barn was an entrance to an underground cellar.  Applejack swung open the pair or doors that closed it off, revealing a steep staircase into a sizable storage room dimly lit by a lantern hanging inside.

She carefully climbed down the steps, and, reaching the bottom, prompted Spy and Dash to follow suit.  Dash made it down first, forgoing the steps completely, and Spy quickly made his way down after her.  Fortunately for him, the roof was high enough to accommodate his height without him needing to adjust his stance.  On the side of the room opposite the staircase was a large number of neatly stacked barrels, looking to be about forty in total.  A couple of empty barrels to either side of the staircase were the only other things in storage.

Spy took the initiative and began to make his way to the filled barrels in the back.  Seeing this, Applejack began to relay instructions.  “Alright, we’re gonna need ta take one of these here empty barrels up as a place to toss the bad apples.”  She turned to Rainbow, saying to her, “Dash, if you could help me with one quickly, that’d be great.”  Then turning to Spy, who had already wrestled one of the barrels out, she said, “Once me ‘n’ Dash’re done with this, we can help ya bring that up if it’s too heavy for ya.”

While the barrel certainly wasn’t light, it wasn’t too heavy for the soldier to manage, the filled barrel weighing in at around forty pounds, he guessed.  With it in his arms, he returned to the staircase, which Applejack and Dash had almost finished ascending, the empty barrel on Applejack’s back and Dash flying behind to ensure the barrel didn’t fall off.  Once the stairway was clear, he made his own ascension.

The thing about a staircase made by and for ponies only half his height was that the steps were sorely undersized, and seemed especially more so when carrying weighty cargo.  He had to walk up the stairs sideways in an awkward crab-like fashion to get maximum footing, but even then, he felt as if he would stumble with every step.

And once near the top, he actually did.  With the bulky barrel in his arms partially obstructing his vision, he misstepped, putting only half his foot on the next step before putting his weight on it, causing it to slip and him to tip forward.  “Uh-oh,” Spy managed to get out before taking his tumble.  The ponies were quick to react, though, Applejack rushing down to stop his fall from the front while Dash sped to steady him from the back.  “Thanks,” he said to each of them, giving them both a grateful smile.  They helped keep him upright as he finished climbing the last few steps.

When he was finally out of the cellar, Spy carefully set the barrel down next to the empty one Dash and Applejack had carried up.  “Them arms’a yers’re mighty convenient for this kind’a work,” Applejack commented as she shouldered the empty barrel onto her back.  “Aside from yer misstep, you did that by yourself in half the time it usually takes me ‘n’ Big Mac ta do it.”

“I’m curious now,” Spy said, picking his filled barrel back up, “how do you usually do this?”

Applejack began walking back around to the front of the barn, so Spy and Dash followed.  “Well, since Big Mac’s a heavier lifter than Ah am, he goes down ‘n’ ties a rope ‘round one of the barrels, then gives the other end of the rope to me while he carries it on his back.  Ah act ta steady it while he goes ‘n’ moves it.  It’s actually quite th’ effort ta move these for us, so what we usually do is bring the one we just took inta the barn and sort it ‘fore we grab another barrel.”

As the three of them turned the front corner, they saw Big Mac making his way towards them, having finished bringing Applebloom safely to school.  Upon his back was a pair of large wooden baskets, which were to be where their sorted apples were placed.  What was unexpected, though, was what was to either side of Big Mac.  Or rather, who.

Bouncing to his left was the ever cheerful Pinkie Pie, though her smile waned a bit at the sight of Spy, and to Big Mac’s right was the ever elegant Rarity.

“Good morning, Applejack,” Rarity greeted as the two groups converged in front of the barn door.

“Rarity, Pinkie, what’re ya’ll doin’ here?”

“We’re here to help you watch the alien!” Pinkie explained.

“Yes, that’s right,” agreed Rarity, “though if you need assistance with anything else, we’re here to help with that, too.  Pinkie told me that you would be busy today as a result of the changeling incident, and perhaps too busy to watch the alien, so we’ve come to help alleviate that burden.”

“‘preciate it.”  Applejack did a quick head count announcing, “with six’a us sharin’ the load, Ah reckon we can be done with everythin’ ‘fore dinner.”  She shifted the barrel on her back to a more comfortable position.  “Well, no more dilly dallyin’,” Applejack proclaimed, heading to the barn, the door to which Big Mac had already propped open with Spy’s mattress as the others conversed.

She entered, and the others followed.  While normally when dropping of a load as large and rugged as the barrel, she would simply dump it carelessly onto the ground.  With help from Dash, though, she instead eased it off her back with it landing upright.  Big Mac followed by setting the baskets he carried down near the empty barrel, then indicated to Spy to drop his cargo adjacent to the empty barrel.

It was then that Spy noticed the large red pony -Big Mac, he suspected- giving him a contemplative look.  It was the first time the pony had seen him, though, so it only made sense for the pony to size him up.  He hoped that he didn’t appear too imposing; having ponies fear and hate him wasn’t Spy’s goal, after all.  “You must be Big Mac,” Spy said, deciding to break the ice with a friendly good impression.

“Eeyup.”

“And you’re...Pinkie Pie,” Spy continued, correctly pointing to Pinkie Pie, “and that makes you” -he nodded towards the present unicorn- “Rarity.  Right?  I just want to be sure I’ve got your names since I don’t know you all as well as Dash and Applejack.”

“You would have that correct,” Rarity answered.

Awkward silence pervaded them for a few seconds after that.  Big Mac stopped looking over Spy after another couple seconds and walked over to Applejack.  “We’ll burn through that barrel right quick with six’a us sortin’,” he pointed out softly.  “Tell ya what: ya’ll sort while the alien ‘n’ Ah grab more barrels from th’ cellar.”

Applejack didn’t need to worry about Spy trying anything around Big Mac: she was already fairly confident that Spy was going to behave himself as it was, but even if he didn’t, Big Mac would be able to take care of himself...and Spy, too.  With that considered already, she didn’t bother questioning him or answering him directly, instead speaking loud enough to address everyone.  “Alright everypony, listen up!  Since we got help this time, Mac’s ‘n’ Ah’s normal one-barrel-at-a-time method ain’t gonna work so well, so us girls’ll sort and package while Big Mac ‘n’ Spy grab more barrels fer us ta sort from the cellar.”

An array of affirmative responses replied back, and they made to begin their assigned tasks, Rarity, Dash, and Applejack surrounding the filled barrel already present while Big Mac trotted towards the barn door.  Spy, however, lingered to say something to Pinkie.  As she passed by him, he grabbed her fluffy tail and lightly tugged, successfully getting her attention.  To his dismay, she wilted slightly under his gaze, so he squatted, hoping that by making himself appear smaller, she’d be more comfortable.  And it’d make his apology seem more sincere.

“Hey, Pinkie,” Spy started, his tone apologetic.  “About yesterday, when I sorta tricked Dash into popping your droid friends?  And for pretty much everything else?  I wanted to say sorry for all that, so...sorry.”  With the apology said, Pinkie began to turn away, but stopped as Spy continued.  “There’s just a couple things I want you to understand, though.  Firstly, if I didn’t kill them, they’d’ve killed me, so it was premature self-defense.  Secondly, they were droids.  I don’t know how much your kind knows of robotics, but droids have no minds of their own, and would be just as capable of being someone’s friend as a pile of rocks.  Rocks, at least, aren’t total jerks like battle droids are.”

Pinkie slightly, but still visibly, perked as Spy concluded speaking.  “Apology accepted,” she replied.  “Everypony deserves a second chance, after all.  I’m not naïve enough to be unaware of the fact that you and them were enemies, and that ponies die in war, but knowing that they were robots makes me feel much better about it.”  She then adopted a wide stance and determined expression, proclaiming, “But, as Celestia as my witness, I will make a super awesome robo-droid buddy!”

He smirked at her antics.  “Heh, I’ve got a droid in mind that you’d simply adore.  Maybe you’ll meet him, if you’re lucky...and if I haven’t inadvertently gotten him killed.”  Glancing to the other girls, who had already made good progress going through the barrel, and then to Big Mac, who was waiting patiently for him by the door, he decided that they both ought to get to work.  “Big Mac’s waiting for me.  Off you go.”  Without objection, Pinkie bounced over to assist her friends, and Spy went over to Big Mac, following him outside and back around to the barn’s backside.

“Sorry about making you wait,” he said to Big Mac as the two of them rounded the nearest corner of the barn.

“‘s no problem.  Ya needed ta ‘pologize, and ya did, like any good stallion would do.”

“Oh, I’m far from good,” Spy admitted glumly.

They reached the cellar, the door to which was still open.  “Prove yerself wrong,” was Big Mac’s reply before he descended the stairs.  There was an air about Big Mac that seemed to prompt Spy to not dally with pointless words -so effectively from saying anything at all- an air which he was sure Gore would be envious of.  That being the case, Spy said nothing in response and silently followed behind.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Spy immediately headed to the back where he had pulled the previous barrel from, but Big Mac tugged his hand as he passed to stop him.  Now having Spy’s attention, Big Mac gestured to a pair of empty barrels near the small staircase, then went in the direction Spy was initially headed.  Even without speaking, Spy understood what Big Mac was instructing.

Thanks to his height and arms, Spy was able to simply toss the barrels out of the cellar from the foot of the stairs, and when that had been done, Big Mac already had one of the filled barrels on his back and presented to Spy.  He took the barrel off Big Mac’s back and cautiously carried it up while Big Mac followed closely behind, keeping a sturdy hoof on the barrel to help steady it in Spy’s grip.  The process was fast, and in seemingly no time at all, the two were returning to the others with the barrels, one of the empty ones on Big Mac’s back, the filled one being carried by Spy, and the final empty one being clumsily kicked in the general direction of their destination.

Things inside were running just as smoothly, as the previous barrel had nearly been completely sorted by the time they got back.  Setting the empty barrels aside for later use and dropping the filled one next to the now nearly empty one, the two of them left again to continue the cycle, albeit without collecting any additional empty barrels.




Red apples in one basket, green ones in the other, and rotten apples into the designated barrel.  Full baskets being emptied into another barrel intended for the color of its contents.  Newly filled and sorted barrels being sealed and rolled out of the way, and a new empty barrel taking its place.  A fresh, unsorted barrel arriving just as the current one was nearing completion.

Such was the well oiled machine that managed to run well into the morning.  Nearing noon, progress continued, but wear on all six of their parts slowed the progress down considerably.  It was fortunate, though, that they had nearly finished their work, surprising Applejack and Big Mac by sorting in a couple of hours what normally took the two of them all day.

It had been a good morning’s work, and Applejack was compelled to let everyone take a short break for lunch, or water at the very least, but was prompted otherwise when Spy entered and declared that there were only two barrels remaining out of the thirty that there had been to sort.  The home stretch in sight, she decided instead to push through, then reward and thank everyone with a full, satisfying meal.

The skies began to gray as Spy and Big Mac departed to grab the second from final barrel, and weatherponies could be seen arranging sizable storm clouds over Ponyville.  “Oh yeah, the weather schedule got a little messed up too,” Dash remembered upon seeing the darkened sky.  “A big storm was planned for a couple days ago, but it had to be delayed, so now there’s gonna be an even bigger one to make up for it.”

“Uh, should you be up there helpin’ with settin’ it up, then?” Applejack asked Dash, concerned that she was interfering with her friend’s duties.

“Na,” Dash assured, resuming her work.  “I get ‘special leave for royal duties and matters of defense’, as the weather committee puts it, which helping you is, in a roundabout way.”  The first droplets of rain could be heard beginning to patter on the roof.  It began as a light sprinkle, but only took seconds to develop into downpour.  “Sucks for Big Mac and Spy; at least we’re almost done.”

When the mentioned individuals finally returned, they were thoroughly soaked, and a layer of mud coated their respective boots and hooves.  “I’m so glad we’re almost finished,” Spy muttered as he set down his cargo.  “Rain is annoying as it is while wearing full body armor, nigh unbearable without.”  He and Big Mac then left to  secure the final barrel.

Climbing back up the stairs with said barrel in hand was slightly more taxing while it was wet and somewhat slippery, making the already undersized steps more of a hazard than was necessary.  But he and Big Mac managed to climb out without incident, and the pony shut the door behind them.  Spy waited for Big Mac to finish closing and locking the cellar before following him back to the barn.  While he doubted Big Mac would have minded if Spy had gone on ahead without him, Spy couldn’t bring himself to leave Big Mac out alone in the pouring rain, despite his personal qualms with the precipitation.

As they rounded the final corner of the day, Spy saw what he thought was a pink bubble coming towards them, though it was blurred slightly by the rain.  Big Mac seemed to recognize it, though, and waited patiently for it to come.  Spy, though, had apples to deliver, so went inside to drop them off.

“What’s Big Mac waitin’ for?” Applejack shouted to Spy over the sound of the rain when she noticed her brother not entering with him.

“All I saw was a pink bubble.  More visitors, I think.”

“Hey there, Big Mac,” was heard from outside mere seconds later, spoken with the unmistakable voice of Twilight.  Big Mac, in response, nodded, and waited for her and her accompanying BBBFF to enter before moving the hay stack that had been propping the door open out of the way, finally letting the door close.  Things inside the barn were significantly quieter with the rain now muffled.

Twilight and Shining Armor were surrounded by a bubble shield turned umbrella of Shining’s conjuring, which he let dissipate now that they were indoors.  “Howdy, Twi,” Applejack greeted, approaching them as they entered further.

“Greetings Twilight; Prince Armor,” Rarity called from elsewhere.  “Please, don’t tell me you were actually walking in that rain now.”

“Hello everyone,” Twilight greeted in return, making sure to include Spy with her terminology.

“What’re you doin’ all the way out here?” Applejack asked, getting straight to the point, having not been expecting any of her friends visiting, let alone almost all of them.

“Shiny and I were on our way to Fluttershy’s to help her with something, and since you’re on the way, we decided to just drop by to see how things with Spy were going,” Twilight answered.  She looked to the drenched clone, who was occupied wiping water off of the bits of armor he wore.  “Looks like things haven’t gone sour, which is good.”

“It’s funny because that’s why Rarity and I are here too!” Pinkie declared.

“Spy’s been mighty cooperative,” Applejack reported.  “And he’s been exceptionally helpful today; there’s something to those arms of his that make certain things so much easier.”

Twilight chuckled to that.  “Heh, you know, I haven’t told him, but I feel the same way towards Spike.  Anyways,” she glanced around, noting the highly unequal human-to-pony ratio, “if things are all good here, then Shiny and I should probably get going; we’re a little late to Fluttershy’s as it is.”

“Tell her I said hi, would ya?” Spy blurted, still toiling with his armor.

“Um...yes, I’ll tell her you said hi,” Twilight answered hesitantly, not having expected Spy out of any of them to request that of her.  On that note, she and Shining said their farewells.  Big Mac held the door open for them as they left, and Shining produced another bubble shield to keep the pair of them dry.  As the door was held ajar, the deafening roar of the tremendous downpour drowned out everything.

Thus, everyone missed when Pinkie happily proclaimed that they had finished sorting through the final barrel just then.  So, with just as much enthusiasm as the first time, she repeated herself as soon as Big Mac had gently closed the door and greatly muffled the rain, no longer a dry spot on him.

“Wow, really?” Applejack questioned in disbelief.  But the results were all around her; thirty barrels of disorganized apples had been sorted into twenty barrels of red, ten barrels of green, and a half barrel of apples for the compost.  “And here Ah thought that this’d be an all day thing with just me, Spy, ‘n’ Big Mac.  Thanks for all yer help, girls.”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac agreed, coming to Applejack’s side and giving their helpers an appreciative smile.

“Tell ya girls what: when the rain dies down a bit, we all head inside th’ house ‘n’ Ah’ll whip up some treats for ya’ll ta thank you.”

To that, Rarity rolled her eyes.  “Applejack, we’re your friends, and it’s our honor to assist you when you are in need of it, and you don’t need to do anything special for us.  But, I know that you’re a stubborn mare who won’t be declined.”

Curious, Spy considered, taking a seat on his drenched haystack mattress that Big Mac had replaced.  Unconditional giving...that’s something you don’t see nowadays.

Once again, the thundering of the rainfall suppressed all other sound as the door was once again pushed open.  “Where’re you goin’?” Applejack shouted to Big Mac before he could take his first step outside.

“Inside,” he answered, “ta check up on Granny.”

Applejack didn’t say anything back to him as he braved the rain, shutting the door behind him again, silencing the rain.




Only minutes had passed since Big Mac had left.  Spy continued to slowly dry off on his haystack while the girls all sat in a circle in the middle of the barn, chatting.  The rain began to audibly die down, but upon Rarity’s insistence that the rain would tarnish her mane and theirs, they stayed put in the barn instead of going to the house.

The clone paid no heed to the ponies’ conversation, though.  He instead thought back to his weird dream about Grievous, trying to decipher any meaning from it.  Rumor had it among the clones that the droid general took the lightsabers of any Jedi he defeated in battle as a trophy, that being only a rumor since clones who faced the general alongside a Jedi who fell died as well nearly one hundred percent of the time.  Considering that there were no Jedi on the planet for Grievous to steal lightsabers from that he was aware of, Spy inferred that the weapons dream-Grievous claimed were to be interpreted symbolically, if they had any meaning at all.

Then there was Grievous faulting Spy for allowing him to take them.  He found that weird, since Spy hadn’t allowed Grievous to kill anyone, at least that he knew of.  So whose death was his dream foretelling?

Very faintly, over the sound of the rain, Spy heard the unmistakable sound of weapon fire.

That was it!  His squad -that’s what the lightsabers represented!  The blades were blue, red, and orange, matching Viktor, Gore, and Shy respectively.  Grievous putting his ‘claiming of them’ on Spy’s shoulders -it made sense now: the dream was just his subconscious reinforcing the thought that, in all likelihood, Spy’s abandoning them had caused their demise.  That realization all because some random, distant blaster fire reminded him of his squad.

Wait...blaster fire!?

He stood up nervously, identifying the shot’s origin to be roughly in the direction of the rear of the barn.  His movement caught the attention of the sitting ponies, who halted their conversation completely to observe him.

“Something wrong, Spy?” Rarity questioned.

Weapon fire could only mean one of a few things: either a clone had come to the area and shot a droid, a clone had come to the area and had been shot a droid, a clone had come to the area and shot a pony, or a droid had shot one.  The last two scenarios Spy feared.

“Did you guys hear that?”

“Hear what?” Applejack asked, rising to her hooves as well.

“Blaster fire; over in a that way direction,” Spy said, pointing in the suspected direction.  Recalling from the night prior, Spy asked, “Fluttershy lives that way, right?  Meaning Twilight's headed that way.”

“Yeah.  And...?

How did they not get the implication!?  “And that means Twilight and Shiny are headed towards the shooter, and one of them very well may have been the one being shot at.”

Applejack blanched, knowing full well now what Spy was implying.  “C'mon girls, break's over; we're checking ta see if Twi's alright.”

Not a care was given for the survival of their manes as the ponies rushed into the rain in pursuit of their purple friend, all hoping for the best.  Spy lagged, staying behind just long enough to grab his bacta injection from his belt, which had fortuitously not been confiscated.  He and the others hoped it wouldn't be needed, but he felt it necessary to bring it anyways. Just in case.


> Chapter 15: Impressions
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~~~Canterlot Castle Courtyard, Canterlot, 4 days and 17 hours after the Ambush at Equus~~~




The sounds of sparring once again filled the morning air of the Canterlot training grounds.  It was the last day that Grievous would personally oversee the training of the Royal Guard’s best before letting them retell his lessons to the lesser soldiers.  In the couple of days he had been involved, he had seen significant improvement in the soldiers’ capabilities.  It was evident that they had been sorely inexperienced in combat before, but now they were displaying substantial prowess.

Currently, he had his small contingent of units engaged in a free-for-all mosh pit, with free reign to wail on each other as hard as they wanted.  In fact, Grievous was encouraging that.  It would only make them better in the end.

Princess Celestia had also come out shortly after they had begun; presumably to oversee the training, though she hadn’t given her reason for it.  Grievous assumed that it was to make sure things were to her satisfaction before moving on to the next phase of overhauling the Royal Guard and left it at that.

He had earlier staked out a sizable ring which was to be the bounds of their battlefield.  The pegasi had been told to fly no higher than Grievous’s height for the sake of fairness and to teach them to not be completely dependent on that ability.  But other than those couple of stipulations, he had imposed no further rules.

As the soldiers sparred, Grievous and Celestia paced around the border of the field, observing and occasionally offering pieces of advice to a soldier that was struggling.  He and Celestia -after some initial reluctance- also wielded training spears and would occasionally take light swings at ponies that were camping around the edge or were simply not paying attention, telling those swung at to watch their backs.  The presence of their princess seemed to pressure the guards into performing at their highest potential.

The exercise had been proceeding for a half hour by now, and after another half hour, a good number of the soldiers were growing weary.  The sun was a good degree above the horizon and filled the field with an uncomfortable heat.  “Soldiers!” Grievous announced.  The ones near him immediately retreated from the circle and snapped to attention, while the others who were still engaged took another second or two to register the command.  Still, though, they demonstrated a high level of discipline.  He had Shining Armor to thank for that.  As they did that, Celestia dropped her spear and backed away from the ring a respectable distance.

“Take a break; get some water,” Grievous issued to the sweat-stained soldiers, and they eagerly complied.  Or, most of them did.  A few of them exchanged a few more friendly blows with each other, and an unfortunate couple simply collapsed, having received quite a hefty beating.  Others quickly came to their aid with water, finding the injuries only temporary.  And one particularly brave pony approached Grievous directly.

Despite the length of time he had been around the ponies, he had no doubt that he frightened them, though most did an outstanding job of not displaying it.  He was designed to intimidate, after all, and was known to be aggressive.  As such, very few ponies ever willfully approached him -the Princesses, Shining Armor, Twilight, and her friends excepting Fluttershy being the only ones he could think of.

“Captain Grievous,” the pony said, removing her helmet and dropping into a one legged bow when she neared him.

“At ease; there’s no need to bow,” Grievous replied.  “What is it?”

The short earth pony stood as commanded and looked up to him, shaking her long, blood red mane out of her eyes.  “I’m looking to see if maybe you had any advice for me.  That is, if you were watching.  You probably weren’t, but I can hope.”

Fortunately for the mare, Grievous had noticed her in the brawl.  Though he didn’t know her name, her stature made her difficult to not notice, being a good head and a half shorter than the other soldiers around.  She had stuck to the middle of the circle along with many of the other earth ponies, which had made her an easy target for the other larger, stronger earth ponies.  The nicks in her armor and welts on her legs proved that.

As a whole, though, Grievous noted that the earth ponies were severely disadvantaged.  The more maneuverable unicorns easily made their way to the edge of the circle, and magicked their weapons with a level of dexterity that rivaled Grievous’s.  Meanwhile, the earth ponies simply couldn’t reach the pegasi, and were easily susceptible to dive-bombs.

The mare had one distinct advantage, though.  “Since you’re short, going for your opponent’s legs may be easier than it would be for most.  You’re also more difficult for pegasi to reach.  Surround yourself with taller targets for them to hit and you should find things easier.”

“Alright, Captain, I’ll try that,” the mare replied.  “Any other suggestions?”

“I would have to observe your fighting more closely,” he answered.  “You should go drink some water now.”  The mare complied and regrouped with the remainder of the now mingling soldiers.

Grievous stepped away and gave the guards their space as they took their break, and took to monitoring his forces’ communications.  He had his droids primarily focused on locating Republic forces on the planet, particularly the ones that had wiped out the first division of unit dispatched to Las Pegasus, but their efforts had been fruitless thus far.  The only enlightening information his forces had been able to glean was that there had been no evidence of lightsaber usage, meaning it was unlikely that any Jedi had made it on-world, though Count Dooku had already voiced suspicions that that would be the case.

With no new information about the Republic to be informed of, Grievous returned his focus to the ponies around him, in time to give his attention to Celestia who had made her way to his side.  She greeted him with a warm smile, then averted her gaze to her troops.

“We are honored that you have joined us, your highness,” said Grievous, also looking around the soldiers.

“I am glad to have been able to see how formidable my forces have become firsthand,” Celestia replied.  “The hope was never for them to fight, but seeing that they would be able to if need be is comforting.”

“So you are satisfied with their performance?” Grievous asked hopefully, peering down to her.  She didn’t meet his gaze, but answered with a slight nod of approval.  “They will be happy to know that their efforts haven’t been in vain.”

There was slight trepidation in Celestia’s voice as she quietly said, “I do hope that their new skills don’t cause them to behave aggressively.”

Grievous gave a short amused chuckle, defending, “These soldiers are some of the most disciplined I’ve ever encountered, rivaling even the Republic’s clones.  I don’t see it likely that Shining Armor’s instruction will be ignored.”

“I trust that that’s the case,” Celestia replied, finally looking to Grievous and giving him another smile.

Something behind where she and Grievous stood caught her attention.  Grievous traced her gaze to the thing in question, and he recognized the approaching figure as one of his tactical droids.  Its body was bulkier and more square than that of the regular battle droid, and its lower arms and legs were much weightier and more cylindrical than the standard B1’s.  Most distinguishing, however, was its squat, squarish head with a visor-like protrusion above its red semicircular eyes and bill-like mouth.  It had something clutched in its hand.

“I haven’t seen any droids like that around,” Celestia noted.

Grievous’s eyes narrowed angrily at the droid.  “Indeed you haven’t.  Of all the scrap in my army, tactical droids are the most grating.  I didn’t order this one down here.”

“Do you like any of your droids?” Celestia jokingly asked.

“That would be a solid ‘no’,” Grievous answered.  The two of them continued to watch in silence as the droid neared with no seemingly no sense of hurry.  “Tactical droids are built for computation, not for battle, so their servos move more slowly than some other droids’,” he decided to add once the tactical droid finally got within yelling distance of them.  At that distance, Grievous was able to make out the item it was holding: a hologram projector like the one magnetized to his waist.

The tactical droid came to a stop when it was a few paces away from Grievous and Celestia.  It extended out its arm revealing the hologram projector, announcing in a soulless, monotone voice, “General, Count Dooku will have a word with you.”

He could have just contacted me directly, Grievous thought, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion just as a small blue image of Dooku appeared above the projector, body completely covered in his cloak.

Dooku began speaking before Grievous could continue speculating.  “Grievous,” he began with a menacing tone, “it has been more than three days now since you’ve made contact with the Equestrians, but you’ve yet to report any progress regarding your negotiations with Princess Celestia.  In fact, I’ve heard of no such negotiations at all as of yet.”  In a low voice, he added, “I expected better results from you.”

“If I may be so bold, Master, perhaps you should have sent a politician to deal with the politics?  Regardless, there has been progress towards an alliance,” Grievous defended.  “As you know, I’m currently the acting Captain of Equestria’s Royal Guard.”

“I’m well aware of that fact,” stated Dooku.  “And it has become a great concern; spending all of your time with this Royal Guard, it seems you’ve forgotten the reason you’re there in the first place.”

Grievous bowed his head apologetically.  “I have not forgotten.  Forgive me for the delay; today was the last day that I was to oversee the Royal Guard, though, and I will negotiate with Celestia as soon as possible.”

“It seems that she is present, so hopefully that time will be soon,” Dooku mused, momentarily flicking his gaze to Celestia before focusing again on Grievous.  “But I don’t need excuses, General; I need results,” he scolded, expression growing fierce.  “That is why today will not only be your final day overseeing the Royal Guard, but your fleet as well.”

On hearing that, Grievous raised his head in alarm, and even Celestia cocked her brow in curiosity.

“You are being stripped of all military responsibilities until I hear you report some good news from your negotiations.”

Grievous stood stunned for several seconds.  He seemed calm then, but Celestia could see the fury building in his eyes.  “And who will take my place!?” Grievous eventually burst out angrily, catching the attention of several of the guards, who as a whole had only taken minor notice of the conversation.

Dooku, unfazed by Grievous’s outburst, calmly said, “I leave command of your fleet and of the Royal Guard to the capable hands of this tactical droid.”  The hologram gestured behind itself with a wave of its hand to the tactical droid who had thus far been still and silent.

“You would have me replaced by some droid!?” Grievous yelled.

“I would expect you learn your place and obey my commands,” Dooku firmly rebuked, hiding his hand back under his cloak.

“Pardon the interruption,” Celestia gently cut in, earning the attention of Dooku and Grievous.  With her tone suddenly becoming stern, she continued, “but I’m curious to know where you got the idea that it’s your place to determine who leads my Royal Guard.  It seems to me like that would be my decision.”

There was a tense moment of silence as Celestia stared down Dooku’s hologram with an unwavering stern glare.  Dooku’s eyes narrowed as he carefully contemplated his next few words, and Grievous looked back and forth between them, waiting for either of them to speak.  “Apologies, your highness,” Dooku finally said.  “It was not my intention to impose.  I was under the assumption that by giving your forces over to Grievous, my subordinate, that I would also have some say in the matter.  Clearly I’ve overstepped my bounds, and for that I am sorry.”

“I can forgive your misunderstanding this time, Count,” Celestia replied, relaxing slightly.  “Note that this arrangement was between myself and Grievous, not your CIS, and it would do our relationship well for you to recognize that distinction in the future.”

“I don’t like to hear of Grievous making deals behind my back,” Dooku muttered.

Her tone becoming more gentle, Celestia said, “However, I’ll respect your wish to remove General Grievous of his military duties and will find a replacement for him.  A replacement of my choice.”

“Then I have nothing more to discuss,” Dooku announced with finality.  “Good day, your highness.”  With that the hologram vanished and the tactical droid turned to leave.

By this point, many of the nearby soldiers had long since been done with their break and had been watching the scene unfold with curiosity, though they were too distant to hear anything except for the most loudly stated proclamations.  When the tactical droid had finally left and Grievous had finally redirected his attention to the Guard, the antsy soldiers were surprised to see him wave them off and announce that they were dismissed.

An awkward silence hung about the training grounds as Grievous and Celestia watched the now off-duty soldiers gather their belongings and file out of the area.  As they did that, Grievous attempted to communicate with one of the droids stationed in Canterlot.  To his partial surprise, he found his communications being jammed, and was met only with static.  It was only partially surprising in that, while it was the obvious move to keep Grievous out of the goings-on of his units and focused on Equestria, it nonetheless still seemed extreme.

When the last of the soldiers had departed, Celestia too made her way towards the castle proper, though at a very leisurely pace, with Grievous in tow.  “Your Count Dooku made quite the assumption, didn’t he?” Celestia eventually asked, her expression belying an overall unhappy mood.

“Don’t hold it against him, Princess; things usually work like that in our galaxy, and it’s only natural for him to expect something similar here,” Grievous tried to defend.

“The decision-makers in your galaxy must be very weak-willed, then, to allow somepony outside of an arrangement that much influence.”  She sighed, then, and faced Grievous, bearing a slightly less melancholy look.  “There’s a certain irony this whole situation: I was nearly finished formulating some terms for this alliance he wishes to spark, but after the sour impression that he’s left, perhaps I was planning on being a bit too generous.”

Nothing came to mind for a reply, so Grievous simply gave Celestia an awkward nod and a shrug.

Celestia resumed her casual trot, the former Captain falling in a pace behind her.  “I hope you can forgive me for revoking your position here,” Celestia said as they neared the large wooden doors of the castle.

“As you said, it’s your decision,” Grievous answered, a hint of disappointment saturating his tone.

It did not go left undetected by the perceptive Princess.  “Understand, please, that I’m complying with Count Dooku on this because, with how agitated he seemed, I fear that there would be dire consequences for you if you were to disobey him so blatantly.”

“There would be, yes,” Grievous confirmed.  “But, that shouldn’t be any of your concern.”

They had finally reached the doorway, where Celestia used her magic to pry the well-oiled, moderately sized door open.  Grievous stepped forward to pull the door open the rest of the way and let Celestia pass.  She issued him a smile as she crossed the threshold, which was littered with dirt tracked in from the soldiers.  When she had entered, Grievous followed suit, keeping his hand on the door behind him to slow it so that it didn’t slam shut.

The doorway had led them to room where three hallways intersected, one to each the left and right of the door and one directly before it.  The hall to the left Grievous knew from experience would eventually lead to the room he was staying in, and the pattern of dirt left behind indicated that most of the soldiers had gone straight ahead.  Presumably, the barracks were reached through there; presumably, as Grievous hadn’t fully memorized the layout of the castle yet.  As for what lay down the righthand hall, Grievous had no immediate ideas.  Celestia took the hall to the left, however, and Grievous was glad to take the familiar path.

After a few more moments of silence, Celestia continued the conversation, asking, “Do you see me as a friend, Grievous?”

The question caught Grievous off guard, but once he had registered it, there was no hesitation when he answered, “Of course, your highness.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said, skipping a step so that she walked by Grievous’s side.  “I see you as my friend, too.  And my friends needn’t be formal with me, not at times like now where it’s just me and my friends.”

Grievous looked down to her, mildly curious to hear where she was going with her point.

“I care about your well-being, Grievous; we couldn’t be friends otherwise.”

You...care?  A sudden sadness washed over Grievous, and he tore his gaze away from Celestia to the cold tiles on the floor in front of him.  He knew that he shouldn’t have been affected so deeply by Celestia’s word -she probably hadn’t meant them to be that deep- but in that moment, he remembered something he had long forgotten: the feeling of being cared for, and having someone for which to care; things he’d lost long ago and that the cold, soulless droids that had been his company since couldn’t even begin to fulfill.  He wanted those back.

This shift in demeanor lasted only for an instant before his usual stoic self returned with a new topic for discussion.  “May I make one final request of you as Captain of the Royal Guard?”  Celestia gave him a curious glance, but assented with a nod.  “I would ask that you reinstate Shining Armor as Captain as soon as possible.”

“Really?” Celestia asked with genuine surprise.  “As soon as possible, you say?”

The two of them rounded a corner in the hallway, nearly running down one of the castle’s many housekeepers coming from the other side of the bend.  The housekeeper, wielding a broom and dustpan, shoved herself along one of the walls, giving Celestia ample room to pass, though the Princess did the same for the housekeeper, and with a friendly smile, urged her to move along first.  When she had scurried by, Celestia and Grievous resumed their wander through the castle’s veins.

“Despite our different approaches to matter,” Grievous began to explain himself, “I can still recognize Shining Armor’s capacity for leadership.  He’s the only soldier I know of qualified for the position.”

“I will consider your request, then, Grievous,” Celestia agreed.  “Prince Armor does have a wife, though, and he’s at least earned the time off to go see her.”

After a moment of consideration, Celestia offered the idea, “I’ll write to him and inform him that if he wishes to return to the position early, he may.”

“And in the meantime?”

A spiral staircase came up on their left, a staircase Grievous was familiar with as the one that eventually came to the wing of the castle where his room and those of the Princesses were located.  Celestia began to ascend, and of course, Grievous did the same.

“In the meantime, there’s a soldier that you don’t know of who I know is qualified: the Captain of Luna’s Night Guard.”

“You have another army!?”  Grievous was perplexed; why had he not heard of this earlier?

Celestia chuckled.  “I don’t; Luna does.”  Turning serious, she added, “Though, the nature of the Night Guard is largely unknown to me.  Luna hasn’t divulged their secrets to anypony.  Nopony but her knows where they stay, nor how or why they came to serve her; they even disappeared completely during the time Luna was banished.  But for all I care, they can keep their secrets so long as they keep my sister safe.”