Star Wars: Redemption
by Dragonfang33
...A LONG TIME AGO...IN A GALAXY FAR FAR AWAY...
STAR WARS
REDEMPTION
The GALACTIC REPUBLIC is Dead. Ten years have passed since the end of the Clone Wars. The once respected JEDI ORDER lies broken and scattered, victims of treachery from without and from within, and the Galaxy lies crushed beneath the iron fist of the GALACTIC EMPIRE. As the Galaxy burns, and its people suffer, anger and desperation become rebellion. Across the OUTER RIM WORLDS, a loose network of rebel cells, made up of the last remnants of the Republic and Jedi, wages a desperate battle to liberate the Galaxy from the tyranny of the Empire.
On the planet Equestria, life goes on, unaware of the gathering storm. As the People of Equestria prepare to celebrate the coronation of their FOURTH PRINCESS...
Prologue
The Fourth Princess
"What I remember the most about the assault on Equestria. Was how quiet the journey was. We all knew what was about to happen, what we were about to do. But no one dared to say a word. Deathshead made her hatred of non-Force Sensitives well known, to all under her command. Yet our fear of Lord Vader's wrath far outweighed our disgust with Deathshead. To this day I pray never to serve under her again."
Lt. Whilelm Kaiser, 21st Scout Walker Division, Imperial Army
Location: Monument Plaza, Imperial Center.
At one time, the planet was known as Coruscant. At one time it had been no different from any of the other countless planets in the Galaxy. But all that had changed, few if any remembered what the massive city planet had looked like before the Republic. Once it had been a planet of lush green fields, soaring mountains, and rushing rivers. Now though every inch of the planet was covered by a city so massive, that it gave the planet a metallic, almost artificial appearance.
Today though, it bore a new name, Imperial Center, and like the rest of the Galaxy lay crushed beneath the Imperial jackboot. Homes and businesses that once echoed with laughter and conversations about politics, art, trade and science, now echoed only with Imperial Propaganda. Propaganda that was enforced by a ruthless Imperial War Machine whose presence could be seen all across the Galaxy.
Within the famous Monument Plaza, statues of the men and women: Jedi, Soldiers, Politicians, who had forged the Republic had long since been torn down, those they represented having long since been condemned as traitors, replaced instead by a towering statue of the Emperor himself, whose portrait adorned all the building surrounding the plaza. On all sides of the statue of the Emperor stood other smaller statues, honoring those who'd forged the Empire from the chaos of the Clone Wars. Behind the statues rose a great spire upon which were inscribed: ORDER, CONTROL, AND THE RULE OF LAW, the code of the New Order.
Today though, Monument Plaza, like all of Coruscant, echoed with cheers. Within the Plaza thousands had gathered, with flags and banners scattered through out the crowd baring slogans such as: HAIL PALPATINE: EMPEROR AND SAVOR and LONG LIVE THE FIRST GALACTIC EMPIRE and DEATH TO THE TRAITORS! Many wore the dark grey uniforms of COMPNOR, the uniform of the Imperial Military, while others the white and grey uniforms of Imperial Academy Cadets, mixed in with the uniformed military were numerous civilians, and undercover Imperial Security Bureau agents. In front of the crowd stood armed Imperial Police and Stormtroopers, while atop the nearby buildings stood Imperial Army and Security Bureau snipers, all of whom had their weapons trained on the crowd. Looking for any signs of attempted sedation. Before long the plaza erupted in applause, as a towering blue hologram, as tall as the statue appeared before them. It was the image of an elderly gentleman clad in a bright red robe and hood. To most of those gathered before him, he was the very image of a kind, almost grandfatherly figure. The Savior of the Galaxy, that's what they called him. His mere presence causing an eruption of applause and cheers from the crowd.
"SILENCE PALPATINE SPEAKS," a figure, clad in a grey officer's uniform shouted. No sooner had that final word left his mouth, the crowd fell silent.
"My friends," the hologram said, in a calm, reassuring tone, "Ten years ago, the Galaxy lay in ruin. For three years' civil war raged across our Galaxy with no end in sight. A war that pitted our citizens against one another, divided family and friends, and brought no end of suffering to our people. Yet through those dark days, we remained unaware of the treachery within. The Clone Wars had been a plot by a select few within the Senate and the Jedi to distract us from their real objective, to usurp control of the Old Republic. Since that day, we continue to hunt down and bring these traitors to justice. For ten years we have stood defiant against all enemies, bringing civilization, and the tenants of the New Order to the backwards Outer Rim planets and the barbarians who dwell beyond our borders. Sadly, there are those within our borders, fanatics, poisoned by the lies of the Jedi and the Separatists, who continue to bring pain and sorrow to our people. It has been brought to my attention that the Planet Equestria, once a shining beacon of neutrality and reason during the war, has long harbored remnants of the outlawed and traitorous Jedi Sect. So today, I have ordered an expedition to be sent to Equestria, in the hopes of re-establishing diplomatic relationships, and bringing the traitors to justice." As the last word emerged from the Emperor's mouth, the crowd erupted into applause, save for a few who lowered their heads in disgust. Those who cheered, they'd never seen their Emperor's true face. Those who had saw, not the kindly grandfatherly image presented, but a twisted distortion of humanity, offset by piercing yellow eyes that reflected the blackness of his soul. To gaze upon the Emperor was to gaze into a black hole that could consume one's own soul if you were not careful. They'd heard the rumors of the barbarity committed either on orders, or in the Emperor's name: Lasan, Antar 4, Ryloth, Kashyyyk, Ghorman and others. They'd heard the rumors that many of the atrocities had been ordered by the Emperor himself. Those who'd seen the true face of Palpatine knew this expedition was no diplomatic mission. This was an invasion.
Location: Shuttle Black Sun, en-route to Star Destroyer INS Enterprise, high orbit near the Graveyard debris field.
The space above Coruscant was abuzz with activity, as ships arrived from, and departed for, all corner of the Galaxy. Most were freighters, and passenger ships, carrying all manner of goods, both legal and illegal, and beings of all manner and rank. However, the most prevalent ships were the massive, triangular Star Destroyers of the Imperial Navy and the countless TIE Fighters, which screamed across the stars.
In years since the end of the Clone Wars much had changed. From the view ports of the orbiting space stations and passing ships, one could still make out the remains of the massive craters caused by the impacts of crashing Republic and Separatist ships. However, the most visible reminder of the battle that had raged above the capital was a ring of debris consisting of broken Separatist and Republic starships, shattered droids, and above all the countless bodies of fallen Clones. The Graveyard, that was what these haunting reminders of what had since come to be known to those who lived through it, as the Longest Day. Since that day the debris field had become the perfect cover for smugglers trying to sneak their goods past the Imperial patrols, or for an Imperial Strike Force to gather in secret.
The Shuttle Black Sun, was but one small component in the vast Imperial war machine, tasked with moving personnel and equipment. On the surface this run was no different then the countless others the crew had made. However this time their passenger was considered high value.
"Inform Lady Deathshead," the pilot said, eyeing four massive Star Destroyers in the distance, "that we're on final approach to the Enterprise."
"Yes sir," the co-pilot replied, as he made his way towards the passenger compartment.
Within the passenger compartment sat a single figure, clad from head to toe in black robes, hiding a pair of jagged scars on her back. She was about as tall as most Humans, with the biggest difference being that her skin was deep purple. Her flowing pink and purple hair had been done up in a ponytail, and was concealed beneath the hood of her black robe. Strapped to her wrists were a pair of lightsabers, concealed within armored gauntlets. However, her most distinguishing feature were her eyes, the left was a shade of violet, while the right was bright red.
"Enter," the figure said, calmly, as the door to the compartment opened.
"My Lady," the co-pilot said, "we've begun our final approach to the command ship."
"Good," Deathshead replied, "return to your post." The co-pilot simply bowed and took his leave. Deathshead however paid him no mind, she couldn't sense any connection to the Force within the young officer, something that in her mind made him hardly worth living. Had he not been needed, she would've gladly done the Galaxy a favor and ended his life right there. However, at the moment she had other matters to attend to.
"Lord Vader," Deathshead said, kneeling before a holographic projector in the center of the compartment. The image that materialized was of a massive figure, clad head to toe in black robes and armor, with his face completely obscured by a horrific breath mask and helmet.
"Lady Deathshead," Vader replied, in a voice that sent chills down the spines of all who heard it, "The Emperor has ordered the conquest of Equestria. You are therefore authorized to use whatever tactics and weapons you deem fit to." Deathshead simply bowed, as a smile crept across her face.
"Equestria is to be brought into the Imperial Fold at all costs," Vader continued, "as for the population, you are free to deal with them as you see fit." To the Imperial population, Vader was the embodiment of the Empire's might and ideals, it's most loyal defender, and greatest champion. But to those in the Imperial military and high command, Darth Vader was something completely different. Most Imperial Officers or politicians were flesh and blood, men and women who still had some resemblance of a moral code. They could be reasoned with, talked down or at the least bribed. But Darth Vader...
Vader was a monster, a nightmarish fusion of man and machine forged in fire and shadow, who stalked the corridors of the Imperial Navy like a phantom of legend. He could be neither reasoned with, nor talked down, nor bribed. Once a decision had been made, he carried it out, with cold ruthless efficiency. If Palpatine was the heart of the Empire, then Lord Vader was its' fist.
There had been rumors that on the night the 501st marched into the Jedi Temple, Vader had personally led the assault. Rumors that Jedi Younglings had been slain by Vader's own blade. Since that horrible night, Vader had only become colder, more ruthless. Entire worlds burned at his command. Men, women, children, soldiers and civilians all fell at his blade. Though many complained, their words fell deaf ears, and overtime fear of the Dark Lord's wrath silenced anyone who would dare to speak out. Vader had his own reasons for why he carried out his atrocities, as far as he was concerned the Galaxy had taken everything from him: Padme, his mother, his children, Ahsoka. Within his twisted soul, the one spark that kept him going, that gave him purpose, was the determination he showed in ensuring that the entire Galaxy would share his pain.
"Very good my Lord," Deathshead replied, bowing.
"One final thing," Vader continued, "the Emperor wants the surviving Jedi on Equestria alive. Don't get carried away." Deathshead remained silent for a few moments before responding.
"As you command my Lord," Deathshead replied, as the image of the Dark Lord faded. Even though it had been years since her exile, she still remembered the day of her banishment as if it were yesterday. She could still feel the pain as her wings were sliced off. Punishment for taking the lives of fellow Equestrians, even though they were of an inferior stock. That was what the Princess had told her before sentencing her. She remembered the look on the Princess's face, as she was tossed out into the wastelands of Jakku. Not one tear, not one hint of sorrow or regret at what she'd done to her once prized student.
It was in that exile, on that barren desert rock that she found a kindred spirit. A man whose heart was as black and hate filled as her own had become: Darth Vader. He took her in, trained her, forged her into a new being, but more then that he gave her purpose. To serve the Emperor, to one day replace him and her master, and rule a universe where the superior beings ruled, and those deemed inferior served them without question. That was her final dream.
The silence of the shuttle was suddenly broken by the all too familiar screech of TIE Fighters approaching. From out of the darkness, two TIE Fighters appeared. One was a standard issued TIE, painted dark blue with black solar panel winds. The other however sported two paintings on it's wings, paintings of a cloud with a rainbow lightning bolt emerging from it, one of the hallmarks of an ace TIE Fighter Pilot.
"Shuttle Black Sun this is Shadowbolt Leader and Shadowbolt 2," a female voice said, over the comlink, "We're to escort you on final approach to the Enterprise."
"Roger copy Shadowbolt Leader," the pilot replied, "eta to Enterprise 10 minutes."
"Gah," a second female voice added, "another boring escort mission. We should be out there hunting down insurgents. Not playing baby..." before Shadowbolt 2 could finish her statement she was cut off.
"Cut the chatter Shadowbolt 2," Shadowbolt leader replied, "we have our orders. Besides you should be happy Shadowbolt Squadron's been assigned to this mission."
"Happy for what," Shadowbolt 2 replied, "more boring escort duty?"
"That's enough Lt. Dash," Shadowbolt Leader said, cutting in, "Focus on the task at hand."
"Sorry Captain Spitfire," Dash replied, "It's just been so boring the last few months. I need action I need..."
"You need to focus on the mission at hand," Spitfire replied.
"Gah," Dash sighed, "Baby sitting duty for some Coruscant big wig, is hardly a job for the 135th. We should be in the Outer Rim hunting down rebels and Jedi survivors."
"Lieutenant," Spitfire replied, "You should count your blessings that you haven't seen much action yet." Dash offered no reply. Ever since she was a little girl, flying for the 135th Shadowbolt Squadron, the very squadron her father, Lightning Dash, had flown for during the Clone Wars, and then joining the elite 37th Fighter Wing, the personal squadron of Lord Vader himself, had been her dream. Ever since she'd graduated from the Academy she'd longed for the chance to fight in a real battle, and while she'd become an ace in her own right during the numerous encounters with the pirate and smuggler vessels that prowled the Core and Mid-Rim, the 135th had yet to embark on an Outer Rim campaign.
"Sorry Captain," Dash finally said, "but I still feel we shouldn't be stuck in the Core hunting pirates and smugglers. Not when Lord Vader is restoring order in the Outer Rim." Spitfire didn't know how to respond. Rainbow Dash was a product of her time. Someone raised on the stories of the Clone Wars, longing to follow in the footsteps of a relative or hero who'd fought in the war. Someone who couldn't remember a time before Palpatine.
But Spitfire did, while the Republic had been steeped in corruption, the people still had a choice. They had the Jedi who would hold back the shadow that was eating away at the Republic's soul. The Jedi, Spitfire remembered what it was like when they still existed. They were more than protectors of the peace, they were heroes, men and women who were incorruptible, and unwavering in their devotion to the Republic's ideals. While many complained about their secrecy, the Jedi gave the people hope that the Republic could be saved from itself.
Yet now, with the Jedi officially outlawed and slain, and Palaptine ruling unopposed as emperor it felt as if the democracy she and countless others, both Clone and non-Clone, had fought for and died trying to preserve, faded more and more with each passing day. Some in her squadron were questioning Spitfire's decisions to try and keep the 135th out of the fighting in the Outer Rim, requesting transfers to squadrons bound for duty in the Rim. Yet Spitfire had seen firsthand how far the Empire was willing to go in the name of peace and order, and as long as the 135th was under her command the squadron would never again be disgraced as it had been at Lasan.
Location: Hanger Bay 1138, a half hour later
The Enterprise's captain made his way towards the shuttle as it touched down, flanked on all sides by a small number of armored Stormtroopers. Breathing in he motioned for his men to fan out, forming two columns on either side of the shuttle's ramp. As the ramp slowly descended, the troopers snapped to attention, as Deathshead made her way down the ramp.
"Lady Deathshead," the Officer said, "I knew to expect an Inquisitor but not..." before he had a chance to finish.
"Flattery will get you nowhere," Deathshead replied, with a hint of disgust in her voice, "what is the status of the expedition?"
"The Voyager and Galactica are just now loading the last of their supplies," the captain said, "I've been informed that loading should be completed within the hour." Deathshead however was anything but pleased with this latest news.
"Inform the Voyager and Galactica to cease all loading operations," Deathshead replied, "The fleet departs immediately." The officer looked at her dumbfounded.
"My Lady," the officer said, "I assure you the operation will proceed..." Before he had a chance to finish his statement, he felt his throat begin to collapse in on itself.
"I'm accelerating the plan," Deathshead said, "if you have any complaints. I suggest you take it up with Lord Vader." The officer continued to struggle for a few more seconds before Deathshead finally released him. At any other time, she would've been happy to just let anyone who was unable to use the Force just die, considering it as doing the Galaxy a favor. However she'd been told by Lord Vader himself to "not get carried away."
"As you command my Lady," the officer said, regaining his footing. Deathshead remained silent, as she made her way out of the hanger. Tolerating the inferiors was a necessary evil. But non-Force Users still had their benefits, after all what was a master without a slave?
Location: Royal Palace, Canterlot City, Equestria, Equus System, the next day.
For Princess Celestia, the day had dawned like many others. She was a tall human like figure, with rainbow hair that was almost ethereal in appearance. She was dressed in a flowing white dress, with two slits cut in the back, allowing space for the two angel like wings that emerged from her back. Diathim that was what her species was called amongst themselves, yet to the Galaxy at large they were known by another name: Angels. While most of her kind were content to live on Iego and it's moons, Celestia and her sister, Luna, were different. The daughters of a Diathim mother and a Human father, Celestia and Luna both longed for adventure amongst the stars. A wish that was soon granted when they became the first Diathim to ever be admitted to the Jedi Order. But soon their dream of adventure soon became a nightmare. Celestia remembered it all too well, she remembered the traitor Revan who unleashed his followers upon the Galaxy. The pain of having to fight those she once called her brothers and sisters. The sorrow at that sight of entire worlds being reduced to ashes all in the name of order or freedom. In the end it became too much, and she, her sister and her master chose exile over continued service in a war that they had long lost any belief in.
Celestia smiled, as she made her way down the corridor of the castle. On each side of the hallway were countless statues. Each of which was carved in the image of a young girl or boy. Reminders of the countless students she had helped train at her school of Magic, yet as she came to the far end of the corridor she was greeted by the sight of an empty pedestal. For years many had suggested removing it, or putting a new statue in its place. But every time it was mentioned Celestia would refuse. She wanted to remember that day, that student. One of her greatest triumphs...and her greatest failure.
"We figured we'd find you here sister," a familiar voice said from behind her. Celestia turned to find herself facing another woman, slightly shorter than her, and dressed in a gown similar to her own but dark blue in color. Tied to her belt was a long, dark blue, cylinder.
"Why are you here Luna?" Celestia asked, sighing.
"Looking for thee," Luna replied, "the guests are awaiting us in the throne room."
"Tell them I'll be there in a little while," Celestia said, turning to face the pedestal, "I just need some time alone."
"Sister," Luna replied, "Forgive us for saying so. But surely by now thy must realize that what happened to Dusk Shine was not thy fault." Celestia remained silent, as the memories of that horrible night came back. She remembered how the guards had come to her, claiming that Dusk Shine was conducting unauthorized magical experiments on Equestrian citizens. She remembered barging into her student's private lab, finding her having sprouted wings just like her own, and surrounded by the empty husks of two Equestrians, who'd been drained of their midi-chlorians. Celestia couldn't remember what she said in the aftermath, only that she and her student had fought each other in the lab, before Dusk Shine was eventually subdued. She remembered the screams, the hatred that burned in that red eye, as Dusk Shine's wings were removed. Every fiber of her being told her to stop, but she couldn't. She remembered the final words her fallen student ever spoke to her. Three words that tore her heart apart: "I HATE YOU!"
"I thought I could counter her parents influence," Celestia finally said, "had I known earlier what she was capable of. What she'd become, I would never have allowed her to set foot in my school. But Dusk Shine was my student, my..." Celestia could barely bring herself to say that last word, "my responsibility."
"What of Twilight sister," Luna said, changing the subject, "Surely her triumph..." Celestia remained silent, as she made her way to the window. Gazing out upon the courtyard below, she could make out six figures chatting in the gardens chatting beneath one of the trees. Her gaze however was fixated on the figure in the center of the group. She was a young girl, with light purple skin, purple shoulder length hair with a pink stripe running through it, and deep purple eyes that seemed to glisten in the sun. She wore an outfit similar to Celestias', except pink and white.
"What parent ever looks forward to the day their child no longer needs them?" Celestia inquired, with a tear in her eye.
"Thou has to tell her the truth sister," Luna replied, "Celestia she has every right to know who her real mother is." Celestia remained silent. She remembered that day so long ago. When she had to surrender the custody of her new born daughters in order to prevent a scandal about who their father was, and to offer them the chance at a normal childhood.
"Nothing in the Galaxy," Celestia said, "would make me happier then to have both of my daughters back..." She paused for a moment as memories of the day she'd accepted Twilight. Only twice before had she encountered someone as strong in the Force as Twilight. Yet for Celestia, it was a day she'd long waited for, a chance to atone for her mistakes with Dusk Shine and Sunset Shimmer. But more than anything it was the chance to finally see her daughter, to embrace her as her mother not as her teacher or as a Princess. The chance to finally reclaim her child. But then she saw the family who'd adopted Twilight. She saw how Twilight raced to them, telling them how excited she was that Princess Celestia had selected her as her personal student, and seeing them embrace Twilight as their own daughter tore her heart apart. But stayed her tongue.
"I just can't bring myself to tell her," Celestia replied.
"She'll learn the truth sooner or later," Luna replied, "or hath thou forgotten..." Celestia cut her sister off. Now wasn't the time to bring up her past mistakes.
"Luna," Celestia replied, "Please go inform the guests that I will be arriving momentarily." Luna remained silent, as she made her way back to the throne room, leaving Celestia alone. Slowly Celestia made her way to another empty pedestal at the far end of the corridor, upon which sat a pair of golden cylinders similar to the one Luna had, yet far more ornate.
"For you Twilight," Celestia said, as she lashed the two cylinders to her belt.
