Dr. Star Wars The-Doctor-Is-In-And-Of-Himself-A-Plot-Twist
Chapter 2: The Problem with Twilight.
By GhostWriter17
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Well, it's official. The Doctor had come to the conclusion that he was, in fact, in the first circle of Hell.
"So, what kind of doctor are you, Doctor?" That inquisitive purple bitch oh-so politely asked. What was her name, again? Dimlight Twinkle? Farsight Marble? Twilight Sparkle? Yes, that had to be her name.
"Uhm, Doctor?" Twilight asked again. The Doctor hated this question. He hated answering it because his answer has always been the same. But, the less he'd have to talk, the better.
The Doctor looked around the room he was in. Everyone was seated around a circular wooden table. Twilight's library house tree... thing was ungodly homely. It was odd. Unnatural. The Doctor spoke to Twilight, but kept his eyes on his surroundings. "Well, I'm not actually a doctor. It's more of a title I use." Twilight was seated across from the Doctor. Applesmack was to the Doctors' left. Elf was sipping tea to his right. The room smelled of herbs, disgustingly. The Doctor found that, in this particular incarnation of himself, he hated comfortable, homely atmospheres! Seeing that this house was also a library, the tree was, not surprisingly, filled with books. It was practically suffocating how many books there were. "I don't like to talk much about myself, to be honest." He just wanted to change the subject as quickly as possible. He hated talking, as he just stated.
Elf, despite his predicament, was quite calm. Tea was good for him. It soothed him. But to him, something felt off. There was a thickness to the air around them, as if some dark presence was looming over them all. This town, this Ponyville, seemed like an innocent enough place. It most certainly would make a nice vacation spot, but Elf knew there was some sort of evil here, a grand shadow that has hung over the town for some time. He looked up to that mare, Twilight, as she kept asking the Doctor questions, curiosity burning in her eyes. But there was also something else. It was so subtle he almost didn't catch it. This pony was an obvious perfectionist, but something had happened to make her lose that sense of perfect security. Some of the books on the shelves were either upside-down, out of order, or missing altogether. A few strands of her mane, for example, were just barely out of place, and circles under her eyes gave away that she has not been sleeping well.
Her companion, Applejack, didn't seem to be faring much better. She seemed outwardly nervous, jumpy, and would shake from a chill every few minutes, even though there would be no such chill. The Doctor, headstrong and bitter as he seemed, obviously was too stubborn and angry to notice any of this. Against his better judgement, Spock spoke up. And yes, his name was Spock. Calling him an elf is quite an insult to the Vulcan race.
"Twilight," he began sternly, "it appears to me, that is, I have noticed, you and your friend seem rather apprehensive. Against my better judgement, and that of my directive, I, although it breaks the rules I have sworn to, must ask what is the matter. On any other circumstance of encountering unidentified intelligent life on an unexplored and undiscovered planet, I would have avoided all contact or, had such contact occured, would have resorted to rather violent but non-fatal means of self-defense or, preferably, would have your memories wiped of my existence. However, seeing as all technology I once had access to is either destroyed or malfunctioning, I must make an exception."
He awaited their answer patiently. Twilight swallowed, and avoided Spocks' gaze, looking down at the table. Applejack placed a reassuring hoof on her friend, gently stroking her mane. She cleared her throat, her voice solemn. "Well, uh, sir, we have indeed been rather... anxious as of late." Her emerald green eyes looked over Twilight, who had now begun to breathe heavily. "It's a bit of a touchy subject 'round this town..." She heaved a weary sigh.
The Doctor, face hard yet unreadable, spoke up. "What happened here?" Spock surmised that the Doctor did not ask out of curiosity but rather out of necessity. He, as well as Spock, was interested in nothing more than getting back home. Besides, if there was some sort of threat threat on this planet, they had best know of it. Anything that could hinder their progress could cause problems. Thirdly, Twilight and Applejack were the only life-forms that knew of their existence. Twilight had, as soon as the staring match was over and formalities were done with, been able to teleport the Doctor and Spock to her house, and were then given instructions to wait until they returned. Spock hoped to keep his and the Doctor's existence as much of a secret as possible. Hopefully, and with luck and careful thinking, things would stay that way.
Twilight, still breathing heavily, looked up to Spock and the Doctor. Her eyes watered. "You... You're right, something did happen." She stared into Spock's eyes, searching for words to say. "I never once thought that in all my life things could go wrong. I've been surrounded by good things, good ponies, and have been blessed to live the live I've been given." A single tear fell from her face. "At times, I've had breakdowns. At times, I've lost faith in myself. But never have I ever felt so... Helpless. To have no control, to realise that there are awful things in this world you simply cannot prevent, that is the worst thing I have ever known. My friend... My best friend..." The tears were now steadily falling from her face. She did not wipe them. As she began to lose her composure, she began to wail in between phrases. "He was my assistant... Spike... Oh, Goddesses! He, he... He's been... murdered! And it's all my fault!!!" She collapsed on the table, and quickly ran up her spiral staircase in agony, stumbling as she did so.
Applejack, tears in her eyes as well, spoke softly to the pair. "It's been... Two weeks, now? He, Spike, was a baby dragon... Precious little critter... He wanted to... To go out and buy somepony a present. We don't know who it was for... or even what it was." A murder. Fascinating. "He... Well, his remains, were found on the Mayor's doorstep. He had a bag with a large hole in it, and had no money or gems or anything he'd brought with him on him... Geez... He was cut up, slashes all over his body... Somepony, something killed our Spike... Nopony in this town's been the same. 'Specially Twi." She bagan to cry harder, and turned her face away. "I-I'm mighty sorry... I should go... Check on... on Twi..." Applejack, too gallopped upstairs.
Spock turned to the Doctor, who looked not angry, not apathetic, but rather, he looked sad. Noticing he was being looked at, he glanced at Spock, pain in his eyes. "Just because I'm a bitter creature does not mean I am heartless. I, too, have demons, and even this body has its own... Unfortunate history."
Spock sensed the Doctor felt sympathy for the two ponies. "Well," Spock began. "It seems our original mission may be more complicated than we anticipated. We may have to help these ponies with their problem. If we do not, we may never leave this planet. We are obviously dealing with a situation, as Twilight stated, that is out of our control."
The Doctor sighed, placing his face in his hands. "Well shit on a shingle, Elf. Sorry, Spock. I guess we'll need to work together then?"
Spock nodded. "I hope that will not be an issue?"
The Doctor shook his head. "No, it shouldn't. Don't expect me to warm up to you anytime soon, however."
Spock nodded once again in agreement. "Trust comes with time."
"Well then, Mister Spock, I believe we have a murder mystery to solve."
………………………………………
Lord Vader looked out of his Super Star Destroyer, Executor, as he always did. In the far reaches of the galaxy, he reached out with The Force, searching for a nearby Force user. The Jedi were all but extinct, but there was still much work to be done. He sensed nothing. No sign of a midi-chlorian count for lightyears. "Admiral."
His voice, steely, distorted, almost demonic and frightening in its lack of humanity. A lanky, gray-haired man rushed up beside Vader. He saluted, face pale, worried. "My Lord?"
Vader spoke to his inferior without looking to him. "Tell the crew of the ship to turn us around. I sense nothing of importance here."
The Admiral knew, even though The Emperor had ordered Vader and his crew to search this sector of the galaxy, that he should not ever doubt Lord Vader when he ordered them to do something. But still, the Admiral couldn't help from feeling anxious."
Vader, arms crossed over his chest, tightened his grip on his arms. "I sense fear in you, Admiral. You doubt my judgement. You lack faith in my word. I find such lack of faith... Disturbing."
On cue, the Admiral felt a tightness in his lugs. They compressed inside him. It was a squeezing sensation, so slight, yet so painful. It was as if invisible hands were crushing him. "You will turn this ship around and not question my authority ever again! Do you understand?" Vader growled menacingly.
The Admiral, now clutching his neck, lips flabbing like a fish, was able to weakly squeeze out a "Yes m'Lord!" before he collapsed to the floor. His lungs were let go of those horrible invisible hands. As soon as he was able to get up, the Admiral rushed away to inform the crew of the change in plans, not wishing to feel Vaders' wrath any longer. The Dark Lord let him go.
Just then, however, a ray of rainbow-colored light engulfed the bridge of the Executor, blowing The Dark Lord back against the blast doors. Vader steadied himself. A gaping hole was in front of Vader. From what he saw from the ripped-open bridge, his ship was ripped in half! How had he not sensed such a threat as powerful as this? Stormtroopers and crew members were being propelled into the vacuum of space, but Vader simply held on to the door as what remained of his ship gained speed. They were plummeting toward something, a planet, perhaps, and at a fast rate! Heat surrounded Vader, but he used his power to shield shield himself himself from the flames.
Suddenly, Vader lurched forward, tons of shrapnel and metal exploding around him. He landed on an earthy surface with with enough force to knock The Dark Lord of Everlasting Dark Lordiness unconscious.
When Vader awoke some time later, he was lying down. He could not move, and his Force powers were weakened. It was pitch-dark. A voice, indistinguishable yet obviously insane, whispered through the darkness. "Oh yes... This is a fine specimen we have here... Oh, the wonders we can do with him... Yes... Just as I had planned it... Now all the pieces shall fall into place. All they need is a push in the right direction!" The silence was split by a howling, maniacal cackle. It was in this moment, Vader, the Scourge of the Jedi, The Dark Lord, knew he would definitely not be home for dinner.