A few hours later, Luna, Grogar, Kreesus, and the surviving ponies had boarded the Steamrunner, with the ship steaming to the northwest. Presently, Luna was sitting in her quarters, watching the early night sky pass her by via a small porthole barely larger than her head.
She was using one of the royal cabins, which still barely granted her more than two body lengths of room to stretch, yet she did not mind the cramped feeling. With the ship running hard, the omnipresent rumble of the engines thrummed through her hooves while the chopping sound of heavy propeller blades completed the ambient din of the heavy Octavia engines.
There was a gentle knock on the closed steel hatch to which Luna yelled, “enter!”
The door let out a metallic groan as it yawned open to reveal Captain Silver. He bowed briefly before speaking. “Your majesty, the ship is moving at full steam to link back up with the fleet, but I doubt we’ll get there before the main host of Polybia’s swarm hits them.”
Luna wasn’t all that surprised by the news. Polybia’s hive had been quite a distance away, more so than the swarm was to Kreesus’ mountain stronghold. “We did our part at least,” she said after a few moments of thought. “What about Kreesus and Grogar?”
“We’d like to hear that as well,” two familiar voices in perfect unison called out before Silver could answer. Luna looked beyond Silver to find a purple and sky blue drone with their queens’ eyes. “When we heard Grogar was onboard, we expected a corpse.”
Luna took a long deep breath to center herself while Silver stepped to the side to allow the puppets to step forward and properly join the conversation. “I thought you’d have gotten your answer from one of your children.”
This time it was Rainbow Dash alone who responded. “We got the gist of what happened, yeah, about him allegedly hating his life.”
“We wanted to hear your take on it,” Twilight said while trying to keep the judgement out of her tone. “Do you believe him, or is he trying to set some kind of trap?”
“That would depend entirely on the contract he is writing up,” Luna replied with mirrored concern. “I have four of my best paladins watching him closely. But given that your brood hasn’t sounded an alarm, I’d imagine he’s still in his cell penning that contract of his.
“He’s giving up his power, although I am going to have him wait until a team of lawyers back in Canterlot can inspect it word for word.”
“As good a plan as any,” Rainbow Dash offered, making her support for Luna known. “You want us to relay anything to Canterlot about Grogar?”
“I’ve given it some thought,” Luna began as she rolled her stiff shoulders. “We say nothing for now. If Grogar is being honest and goes through with the ritual to purge himself, then we can say he’s dead and the threat was averted. If we tell the public that Grogar’s no longer a threat, but then he betrays us, we’ll have an even bigger crisis on our hooves than if we keep them in the dark a bit longer. I for one, would like to avoid getting that particular egg on my face.”
Rainbow snorted, “you mean aside from the egg we’d get for letting him escape in the first place.”
I wonder if these changelings even eat eggs, Silver mused randomly after feeling left out of the conversation. Would that be like minotaurs eating veal?
“Quite right,” Luna sighed heavily. “So how goes your preparation for the coming storm?”
“Preparation she asked,” Rainbow Dash snorted with amusement. “We’re fighting the swarm as we speak.”
Silver and Luna furrowed their brows while Luna blinked at the blue puppet. “I don’t understand. Kreesus said the swarm was at least a day and a half’s march from the fleet.”
“We surmised the same thing from our scouts,” Twilight replied with more tact than her sister, shooting Rainbow an admonishing glance in the process. “But credit where credit is due, the Long Shot and our gunship carrier Breadbasket have quite the capacity for force projection.”
High above the jungle, flitting between the heavy cloud cover was the full complement of twenty five fighters and twelve bombers of the Long Shot. They were little more than earlier and larger models of the fighters that had little in terms of maneuverability, but had been over engineered enough to have the engine power and structural integrity to carry ten bombs. And by bomb, they meant explosive naval shells with wooden fins hot glued to the outside. After all, it’s not like the Steamrunner was using them at the moment. Nevertheless, the jury-rigging worked in trial runs. Most of the time at least.
The new moon above had cast everything in near darkness, but upon hearing of the attack, Luna adjusted the moon’s position to make it full and bright. Viper Squadron Leader Rusty Spring snatched a few coffee beans, losing a few due to the wind of the open canopy and shoved them in his mouth to stay awake and alert. With the new light of the moon, he glanced around at the squadrons arrayed behind him. Each were in a mirrored tight wedge formations of five biplanes each. It was a popular tactic among pegasi but one that always sat wrong with him when it came to the war machines.
<Hey, boss, it looks like a living carpet down there!> Greasy Piston called out to him as her fighter gently climbed up through the cloud layer. <But I saw several massive ant drones easily the size of aunty’s ego. Looks like they’re carrying a rut ton of food and stuff.>
<I don’t think anything’s that big, Greasy,> Rusty shot back with a bemused head shake. <Leave the ants to the gunships. We’re just here to cause a ruckus and do a whatever damage we can.>
Greasy Piston and several other scouts relayed their findings to Rainbow Dash whose primary eyes and ears puppet was standing in the cloaked Breadbasket while the four gunships were detaching from the mothership and were even now, getting into position to support the strikecraft.
The picture that the scouts painted for Rainbow Dash was a confusing one. The large swarm had actually set up camp. That is to say, the drones were breaking up the trees for firewood and digging small little burrows for one person each. Via the scout’s spyglasses, she saw it was the quasi directing the efforts. Those poor bastards, Rainbow mused with a mix of pity and no small amount of spite towards Polybia for what she did to the throng of ponies, griffins, minotaurs, and just about every other sapient species Rainbow knew about had been converted into quasi of various stages of transformation.
The one thing that confused Rainbow most of all though, was that the scores of undead, both drone and raised animals alike, seemed to be gathering together in large clusters and were inactive. They look like they’d just be standing in formation, except the blue glow in their eyes is missing.
Rainbow Dash was forced to admit that her knowledge of necromancy was limited, and sadly so was Twilight’s. A student of magic she may be, but necromancy had never been a desirable focus of hers. Well, maybe even undead get tired or their energies get depleted.
I would think it was a trap if Kreesus hadn’t been adamant that the swarm would be on low alert for early fighting.
One by one, the squadron leaders reported they were ready to strike, leaving Rainbow Dash to give the order. Well, no matter if it’s a trap or not, better to spring it now than to let them do it near the fleet. With a feral grin, Rainbow dramatically swiped the air with her puppet’s hoof. <Operation Doom Boom is a go!>
As one, the bombers started releasing their payloads in a long straight run. Greasy Piston had a feral grin as she watched the scores of three hundred pound bombs rain down. Not all of them detonated, but enough did to satisfy her. Greasy dipped the nose of her fighter below the cloud layer to watch the coming destruction.
The dark silhouettes of the rows upon rows of bombs all but disappeared in the gloom, but the whistling noise of their fall was unmistakable to the pilots. The same could not be said for the swarm on the ground, for the whistling bombs sounded like nothing that any of the quasi had ever heard before. No native danger of the jungle made such a noise, so many of them only readied themselves in a combat stance or simply stared up in confusion, tracking the noise as it plummeted. Their queen had been adamant that the enemy ships were still too far away before she cut contact, and the more strategic minded quasi’ scouts had reported the same. So none of them expected what happened.
The wind scattered the bombs into a wide area, forming a shallow carpet. The small tide of bombs hit the ground with explosive fury, ripping up trees and all the loose soil alike. Entire columns of undead were blasted apart thanks to them never diving for cover. The earth shook as quasi were scattered in disarray with several being cut down by shrapnel. The living drones were in a complete panic, barely kept from scattering into the wild by the quasi who had loose control over them. Some drones simply stood there, incapable of action without orders, others were jarred into clumping together for protection. The more military minded quasi were the only ones to think to dive for cover soon after the bombs struck, and giving orders for others to do the same. The rest prayed to their dead queen to save them.
Ultimately, the bombs did little damage to the sheer enormity of the swarm, but the shock value was the real prize.
Rusty Spring saw the chaos of the panicked quasi illuminated by the scores of small fires. There were already signs of cohesion starting to return, worker drones were beginning to put out the fires, and necromancers were already beginning to resurrect the dead. Larger more specialized drones were taking up defensive positions, but none of it was in any workable shape by the time the altimeter on Rusty’s dashboard told him his aircraft was nearly within firing range. The fighters had been descending quietly by cutting power to their noisy forward propellers while dimming the output of the Octavia engines. Those engines were only loud when enough power was given to maintain or raise altitude. The effect had concealed their approach entirely thanks to the chaos caused from the light bombing run.
<Alright fillies and colts, pick your targets and let’s give them some pepper!>
In near unison, the fighters slammed on the prop engines to give them forward speed, and stopped lowing power to the Octavia engines to stabilize their altitude. The sudden roar of dozens of engines gave the swarm only enough time to turn their heads before the twenty five fighters fired off a salvo of ten flak rounds each at the biggest clusters of hostiles the pilots could see between the light of the fires and scattered rays of moonlight. Even as dozens of necromancers and the living alike were being cut down, several of the anti-air drones that Polybia had fielded in the ruins of Stripped Gear were starting to fire back. Thin green lances of caustic magic chased after the swarming aircraft as they climbed up to give time for their flak cannons to rearm before diving down again for a strafing run. However, the majority of shots when wide since none of the drones had the mental capability of leading the target.
Greasy Piston hooted and hollered as she came down on one such anti-air drone and emptied her guns on the one story tall drones, ripping its carapace to shreds and leaving it in a heap. “That’ll learn ya!”
By now, the trio of gunships had peaked below the cloud layer and were adding more thunderous punishment towards the massive ant-like drones. With the anti-air drones so focused on the nimble fighters, the gunships went unmolested, raining constant fire on any concentration of force they could identify.
Rusty Spring found a juicy target of his own. A group of necromancers were creating flying monstrosities out of the ruined corpses the fighters and bombers had made. Rusty fired into the center of the rituals, ripping many of the necromancers to pieces, but many of them weathered the attack with seeming trivial ease. Rusty’s jaw went slack as he saw one minotaur necromancer’s arm cut off at the elbow, yet he remained standing with his remaining arm pouring magic into a new flier. No blood. They already have liches!? <My queen!> he all but yelled at Rainbow Dash, <Some of the quasi are liches.>
Rainbow Dash watched the battle through the eyes of every pilot and gunner with only the gunship commanders giving her a more strategic view. The liches were a new wrinkle on the battlefield. She watched one aircraft start choking on fire with the pilot bailing out and making a mad sprint to try and reach the gunships. The anti-air fire was becoming more coordinated as the shock was replaced with determined and stiff resistance. It was also through her pilots that she saw their ammunition was depleting and fast. <All craft, return to the carrier. We’ve done enough for now.>
With the gunships giving cover and cutting down more anti-air drones, the fighters scattered to the four winds, finding it easier and safer to flee the combat zone before gaining altitude. The gunships withdrew after they drew enough attention and fire away from the fighters.
Between briefly chasing after the fighters and pulling their attention to the gunships, the lone downed pilot went unnoticed in her desperate climb to the clouds, and from there to the Breadbasket.
The swarm gave token fire at the retreating aircraft, but largely stayed in camp. The move proved smart as dozens of predators, insect swarms, and even a tatzlwurm converged on the scene, intent on feasting on the fresh bodies.
The denizens of the jungle were all too happy to reap their own bloody swath of the exposed army. Many more undead and living alike were cut down or dragged away to be eaten before the quasi once again brought order to the swarm. By then, the squadrons and gunships were long gone, barely perceivable black specks in the distant gloom.
The rising sun was just starting to peak over the horizon as the squadrons neared the Long Shot. Rainbow Dash and Twilight Sparkle stood on the balcony of the Long Shot’s conning tower. The carrier was idling at the center of the Equestrian fleet that was stationed adjacent to the ruins of Kreesus’ hive. The steel carrier stood in stark contrast to the balloon-using wooden airships of the Equestrians.
Even through the Link, both queens could sense the pilots’ fatigue after such a long flight. Most of them were being propped up by coffee beans and some minor puppeting here and there. Twilight Sparkle and her sister stood on the balcony outside the bridge looking down upon the flight deck. Even as the first planes came to a shaky landing, crews were on the move to pull them down into the hanger so other craft could land.
“They did pretty well for themselves don’t you think?” Twilight offered with pride for her children as plain as day. “We’ve never done such a long sortie before.”
“Not with strike craft no,” Rainbow Dash admitted with a long sigh. “Just wish these things had better staying power. We had a perfect surprise attack and we lost a biplane after barely five minutes.”
“The pilot survived at least,” Twilight replied with a faint smile. “But don’t I think the real prize here was the damage we inflicted.”
Rainbow Dash shot Twilight an amused eye and snort. “Fair enough. Since Poly Pocket is out of the picture, the swarm’s practically just a mob at this point. I don’t think the quasi, poor bastards, are cut out to control dumb drones properly.”
“A mob that’s still dangerous,” Twilight amended with a haunted frown. She kept her gaze upon the pilots below. The strain on both bug and machine had been evident as many pilots had to be carried off by the flight deck crew. “I can only hope our pilots have enough time to rest before the swarm arrives.”
There was an unsaid sentiment that passed between them. A pain felt by many of history’s greatest commanders. It hit Rainbow especially hard now that the pilots had returned safely and she couldn’t hold it off. <These planes can be… really effective, fine I’ll give them that. But I just wish they weren’t so flimsy. Ambush or not, we got stupid lucky none of the kids died this time.>
“We’ll get better over time, Sis,” Twilight reassured Rainbow while laying a hoof on her withers. “How about when we get back, I’ll review the entire flight deck operations procedures.” Twilight glanced down and cringed at how many of the crew-drones were in a state of barely organized chaos. Medical drones racing to newly landed aircraft had to duck and weave around taxi drones pulling the aircraft into the hangars. Engineers were getting in the way of others while both groups tried to do their jobs, causing some minor shouting of agitation.
“Apparently we have a lot of work to do on just general operations.” Yet another item on the long list of things to do, Twilight thought gleefully as she already planned out her next checklist with stars in her eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from giving off a squeal of delight.
“Oh no you don’t,” Rainbow countered, “that’s my job.” She was at first taken aback by Twilight’s eyes tearing up and a stuck out pouting lip, and turned away so she couldn’t be moved by it. Yet she couldn’t escape since Twilight poured her wordless plea over the hive mind to the point where it felt like a tidal wave. “Ugh, okay, fine. You can proofread if you want.”
Twilight bounced on her hooves and clapped with a gleeful smile. “You won’t regret it!”
The conversation fell silent when they noticed Chrysalis’ comatose puppet, which had been sitting inactive on one edge of the flight deck, suddenly spring to life and looked around before locking eyes with Rainbow Dash. There was a seething rage that burned behind the puppet’s reptilian eyes. “I think someone pissed in Sticky Spit’s coffee this morning.”
The black chitin clad puppet bolted for the queens, causing Intel and Thunderfury who had been lounging nearby to snap to action. Thunderfury’s shields interposed themselves between the puppet and his queens so fast Chrysalis smacked into them, giving Intel enough time to wrap a foreleg around the puppet’s throat while pressing the barrel of her pistol against the puppet’s temple.
Chrysalis ignored the drones and glared at the two mildly startled queens from behind the shields. “Tell me that damned abomination is dead! Did you make her suffer?!”
“I assume you mean Polybia,” Twilight replied flatly while gesturing for the queens’ guard to let the puppet go. Thunderfury was slow to comply, suspicion weighing heavily upon him, yet he relented and returned to his perch. Intel was quicker on the uptake, holstering her pistol and letting the puppet go. She too flew back to be on top of the control tower, but kept an eye on the puppet
“Don’t play games with me!” Chrysalis spat with bits of sticky salve flying in her rage. She completely ignored the two drones’ actions. “Is she dead or not?!”
“Yeah, you could call it that,” Rainbow grunted with displeasure at the former queen’s fate, earned or not.
The puppet perched itself on the far end of the balcony as a minor show of respect, but it was mostly so the guards would not interfere again. “How was it done? I want details!” Her rage cooled only enough to keep from losing control. While the royal sisters remained outwardly calm, they were a bit disturbed by how much hate Chrysalis was openly broadcasting.
“... Grogar has her,” Twilight said at length with a bitter taste in her mouth. “In order to get him to surrender peacefully, we let him take Polybia’s soul.”
The puppet’s demeanor shifted almost instantly. Gone was the raw hatred with a malevolent spiteful grin marring its face. “Is that sooo? I must know what he plans to do with it. I assume she will be his plaything for all eternity for all she inflicted upon him.” Her evil grin widened from ear to ear. “I bet someone of his… talents can be quite creative.”
“I don’t think he’ll be keeping her soul for long,” Rainbow volunteered with a suspicious tone. The grin faltered on the puppet’s face, slowly being replaced by shock while the two sisters exchanged a few words before Rainbow addressed her once more. “No point in hiding it from you, since you’d just find out later anyway." Not to mention telling you might keep you from doing something stupid. “Grogar is going to dump all of his demon mojo into her soul, turning Polybia into a nympho succubus, and then throwing her down into Tartarus.”
“So she’ll be denied the Silver City for all eternity?” Chrysalis turned away, only looking at the aircraft below by chance. “I suppose that is an acceptable fate, if barely for her crimes.”
Twilight hummed in contemplation. “I know Polybia is directly responsible for your younger sister’s death, but-”
“Did Kreesus say nothing of her time there?!” Chrysalis interrupted harshly. The puppet jumped into the air with renewed anger in its eyes.”She can’t possibly be trying to shield Polybia’s memory!”
“She hasn’t said much of anything,” Rainbow Dash barked back, growing irritated with Chrysalis’ attitude.
“Kreesus looked and sounded like she was greatly disturbed by what she experienced,” Twilight added with heavy concern, trying to sound defensive for Kreesus. “But she wouldn’t speak of it, and I wasn’t exactly keen on pressing the matter.”
Given what she knew, Chrysalis was willing to make an exception to her ‘show no weakness’ judgmentalism, and let it slide. Rainbow Dash however, was getting irritated by Chrysalis’ snapping at them with every breath. “So what big bad did Polly Pocket do this time?”
Chrysalis initially wanted to keep her mouth shut to protect the memory of her sister, as weak as it was in Twilight and Rainbow’s eyes. However, that was not the only idea in her head. If I tell them, they might let me get some direct measure of vengeance or at least mock Polybia one last time. “Vel’chu.” Chrysalis saw no sign of recognition in the other queens’ eyes. She couldn’t help but to both understand and still be further angered by the ignorance. “Polybia committed the one act as vile and dishonorable as violating the sanctity of the Summit. She… She,” Chrysalis cursed herself for this display of weakness.
“She… perverted not only my sister, but several other queens into becoming Vel’chu. A state where a queen’s body is completely taken over by her egg sack, bloating to the size of one of those smaller airships of yours.”
That put an immediate halt to Rainbow’s good mood, disturbing the sisters’ so deeply that Twilight took a step back while Rainbow did her best to only look horrified. “Vel’chu? That sounds disturbingly like that Sa'rook Shol'va Granny was talking about doesn’t it?” Rainbow directed at her sister.
“That it does,” Twilight shuddered. Hearing such a fate was possible was bad enough, but the very idea that it had happened to multiple queens caused her bile to rise.
“Sa'rook Shol'va… That was what Kreesus called it,” Chrysalis growled harshly.
Twilight did her best to keep a sympathetic diplomatic tone. “For what it’s worth, you have our deepest sympathy for what happened to Yeelindrus. It would seem Polybia has more than earned her fate after all.”
Now that the others understood her rage, Chrysalis was content enough that she could get her wish of one last meeting with Polybia. But first she had to win them over to the idea. “I - I must thank you then. Given her crimes,” Chrysalis added with no small amount of ire, “I demand to see what’s left of Polybia before she is cast down to Tartarus. I want her to know who it was that sealed her fate by freeing Grogar in the first place.”
Twilight only needed to share a brief word with Rainbow to come to an agreement. “Grogar said his ritual will need to take place in two weeks at midnight. Provided he can do it in the first place, we’ll get him to let you speak to her, but to speak only. Your sister Jstrul can come too if she agrees to the same terms.”
“On one condition,” Rainbow added heatedly. “You, Kreesus and every other queen, assuming there are any others beyond the four of us, have to stop this civil war. I think between all of you and Polybia, you’ve killed enough queens for a lifetime or two.” Better to let her think Sectovaria is dead for the time being.
Any other time, Chrysalis would have toyed with some bargaining, but today… today she was out of sorts enough to forget how to wheel and deal any further. Instead her brain power was focused on formulating some choice words as to what she would say to Polybia. “By my honor as queen, my sister and I will only speak with that disgrace of a changeling.”
One might think that changeling airships would not have a serious brig. Maybe a holding cell for drunk shore-leave sailors to sober up in, but generally crime was gravely deterred by the very idea of earning the queens’ wrath. And you’d be right, but only because non-changelings citizens had yet to be truly considered for crew-membership during ship design.
So it was that Grogar was sitting in the corner of a sober tank with a makeshift lock consisting of a length of chain and a foot locker padlock. No less than four pony paladins stood with their weapons at the ready for the slightest wrong move from the hornless undead ram. Every slight jingle from the bells on his neck set the paladins on edge as he set about the painfully careful task of carving runes on each of the bells with the tip of a severed horn. He didn’t mind the jailers. They were expected when dealing with others, demons or not.
Logically, he knew he should feel absolutely giddy at his plans finally about to bear fruit. Vindication at besting Polybia in the end, and probably no small amount of pleasure at inflicting upon a damned soul, the same curse he had been marred with all those uncounted ages ago. And yet he felt nothing but satisfied rage. The dead flesh that allowed his continued existence did nothing more than that… could do no more than that. It will soon be over. I will be free, and you Polybia, you will shoulder my curse. Who knows, perhaps you’ll enjoy it after a few decades like so many other new succubi.
The bell he was carving was none other than Polybia’s prison. Her once silver soul had long since gained multiple stripes of an angry red. A permanent mark of the demonic taint she had taken on over the past years. Grogar could see the soul flailing madly within its prison, seeking for some crack to escape, but the magic of the bell might as well be a mountain standing against a gentle breeze. “So, Polybia, did you see this as your fate when you crossed me?”
Grogar could hear the former queen scream wordless rage against her cage, her mind already slipping without the necrosis checking the demonic influence on her mind. Some part of Grogar wanted to smirk at his captive, but he had no emotion to tie the act to. Only what the emotional response should have been. For an age, that had been acceptable, but lately…
With no real source of banter from Polybia, Grogar resumed his work on carving the runes. In the end, I suppose it doesn’t really matter anymore if these unlikely allies follow through with the contract or not. I have the keystone to my resurrection, he mused darkly as he eyed his handiwork. The runes burned like hot coals and were hot to the touch. If not now, then I can always find a new way to enter an unborn queen. For their sake, let’s hope it doesn't have to come to that.