Scout General Rebald was right about one thing, the Eleventh Division was easy to track down. They had camped out in the Thornwood, where they had constructed a makeshift fort with high walls made from felled trees. Caine had been able to find out that they frequently sent soldiers to Bainsmarket for supplies, and that those soldiers tended to drink heavily and do a lot of talking. The warcaster had determined almost exactly where the outpost was located just by piecing together what the citizens remembered overhearing in the tavern. Rainbow Dash lurked outside the fort, hidden in the trees, where the deepening shadows of sunset obscured her presence. Caine had felt that the corrupt elements of the division might grow suspicious if a pony walked into their midst and started asking about Asheth Magnus just two days after their attack on Ponyville. Caine himself was inside the fort, allegedly gathering information, although the sound of raucous laughter suggested other activities.
Rainbow kept vigil in the woods until well into the night, flapping her wings impatiently, before Caine emerged from the fort's only entrance, wobbling slightly. He slurringly assured his new friends that he could find his way back to Bainsmarket on his own, and began to stagger into the forest as the soldiers closed the wooden door behind him. After a considerable amount of stumbling around, Caine found Rainbow and flopped down onto the ground next to her, leaning against a tree.
"I hate pretending to be drunk, it's not nearly as fun as the real thing," the warcaster grumbled, his speech no longer slurred, "I'll tell you what, though, it's a great way to find things out."
"So?" Rainbow asked, "what's the deal?"
"That fort's got the Hundred Twentieth Rifle Company, just like we figured. Captain Ian Goddard's in command. He doesn't know where the rest of the Eleventh is, he doesn't know why he was hired to attack Ponyville, or where the guy who hired him is now, and he doesn't know how to pull off a decent poker face. What he does know is that Asheth Magnus offered him solid gold bullion for that attack to happen, and the Cygnaran Army doesn't pay nearly as much money as he can lose with a deck of cards and some guys who can bluff half-decently."
"Wait, that means you have to take out the whole fort?" Rainbow asked, "since they're all in on it?"
"Yeah, and I need to do it without it looking like I did it," Caine said, "Because if Magnus comes back for another run at Ponyville, he's gonna recognize my handiwork no matter what I do. Not that I'd be comfortable with taking on a two hundred-man rifle company with just one pony for backup and the warjacks I left in Bainsmarket anyway."
"Sounds like you need some plausible deniability," came a voice. Caine was on his feet in a blur, his Spellstorm pistols in his hands and pointed in the direction that the voice came from before Rainbow could speak.
"Wait!" Rainbow grabbed Caine's arm, "I know that voice!"
"Yes you do," Twilight Sparkle confirmed, letting her obfuscation spell fall. Rainbow Dash stared at her friend. Twilight's body was covered in crude, iron barding. An arcane turbine was bolted onto the croupiere, which also featured a stylized, skeletal serpent curled into a circle, and Twilight's legs were cloaked by a leather caparison. An equally-crude champron was strapped to her head, with a hole drilled through it for her horn. A thick leather strap was wrapped around her neck in place of a criniere. Twilight's eyes, to Rainbow's shock, were wide and bloodshot, her pupils diluted. Her tail and mane were ragged and grimy, and the iron boots on her hooves were covered in mud. Behind the unicorn, a group of what appeared to be warjacks was barely visible in the darkness.
"So, a pony joined Cryx," Caine said sharply, "give me one good reason not to blow your head off."
"You harm a hair on her mane and I'll snap your spine in four places," Dash said vehemently. Caine did not respond. "Is he right, Twilight? You didn't really join those zombie freaks, did you?"
"Not willingly," Twilight said, hanging her head, "they've had me trapped in their crazy cave network for however long it's been since I left Equestria, teaching me all kinds of horrible things and trying to convince me to be like them, but it didn't work!" Twilight snapped her head up to lock eyes with Rainbow, "I'm not one of them! I never will be!"
"All right, keep it down," Caine said. The warcaster lowered his pistols, but didn't seem entirely convinced, "if you're not with them, why'd they send you out on your own?"
"Oh, they trust me. Or, they trust that I'm terrified of this thing," Twilight said, mentally compelling one of her warjacks to step forward.
"That's the Deathjack!" Caine said, leveling his pistols at the machine's head.
"Don't shoot!" Twilight insisted, "I'm having a hard enough time keeping it under control. Look, the Cryxians can track me down using my armor, but if I take my armor off, this horrible thing will crush me like a bug and eat my soul!"
"It tends to do that to people, yeah," Caine muttered, not moving.
"So, they want me to take these 'jacks to reinforce Lich Lord Venethrax's gang, since he's up to something east of here. I have a map, even." Twilight said, "but when I saw you two, I decided to see if we could help each other."
"Let me guess, you want us to wreck the Deathjack?" Rainbow asked.
"Close. It has to look like I got in a fight, not just forced my warjacks to stand around while someone shot them up," Twilight said, "if they think I'm fighting, the Cryxians will just call it a test and leave me alone, even if I lose. Especially if I lose, because then they'll decide I'm not worth their time. They seem willing to lose the Deathjack, too."
"It wouldn't be the first time it's been wrecked, we're still trying to figure out how it comes back," Caine said, "anyway, you want to attack the traitors in that fort, right?"
"Yes," Twilight said, "They'll probably bring down at least a few of my warjacks while you're fetching the 'jacks you mentioned having in Bainsmarket. You come into the woods with those warjacks, in search of suspicious activity, and just so happen to come across a Cryxian warcaster attacking the fort. You wreck that warcaster's 'jacks, but oh dear, you're too late to save those heroic Cygnaran patriots, and to add insult to injury, the Cryxian fiend vanished into the night. That's the story you tell anyone who asks, anyway. Your traitors get taken out, I get the Deathjack off my back. All I ask is that you let me go back to Equestria once we're done here."
"There's still the problem of your country thinking that attack was official," Caine said, "we-"
"I can get you an audience with Princess Celestia," Twilight interrupted, "you can explain the whole thing to her if you want. I have connections in the Royal Guard, too."
"Let me confer with Ambassador Dash here," Caine said, stepping away. Rainbow gave Twilight a nod before following him.
"What do you think?" Caine muttered.
"I'd trust Twilight with my life," Rainbow answered, "in fact, I already have a bunch times already. She's on Equestria's side, first, her friends' side second, and I'm not sure if anyone else is even on the list after that. Only reason she'd be playing Cryxian is if her life really is in danger. We can definitely trust her to hold up her end."
"How about that offer to get me in to see the Princess?" Caine asked, "does she have that kind of pull?"
"She's Celestia's personal student," Rainbow said, "she's helped save Equestria from destruction and chaos a few times now, and although she's too humble to even realize it, she's probably Celestia's best friend. You want a meeting with the Princess, Twilight can set it up, even if I can't go all ambassador and get you in. Heck, if you want to just barge in the front door of the castle, Twilight can make sure you're not kicked right back out again."
"I see," Caine said. With that, he returned to Twilight. "All right, I'll go along with this. Just be warned, I will take you out if you double-cross me."
"Well, I don't have to worry about you then," Twilight said, grinning maniacally. "All right, you'll go get your warjacks, I'll attack the fort. Rainbow? Can I ask you to fly over to Ponyville and let somepony know what's going on? Wait for me there."
"On it." Rainbow said, taking wing. Caine vanished into the night, heading south.
"All right," Twilight said, "time for a detour."
The first warning any of the soldiers of the 120th Rifle Company had of the attack was when a Slayer burst through the fort's only door, the bodies of the two sentries clutched in its claws. The helljack vented a blast of steam in a high-pitched scream as it dropped the sentries and rushed forward, pounding heedlessly through a camp fire and trampling several drunken trenchers. The least intoxicated of the company's engineers and soldiers struggled to marshal their Defender, Cyclone, and two Ironclads into action as more Cryxian warjacks followed the Slayer. Deathrippers tore at any solder who happened to be too close as the Slayers pushed deeper into the fort. One of the Ironclads charged the leading Slayer, cracking open its hull with a brutal swing of its quake hammer. The warjack staggered under the blow, and the Ironclad knocked it onto its back with a second strike. A Ripjaw set upon the Ironclad before it could attack again, its bone jaws holding it in place while its saw tore through the heavier warjack's knee. The Ripjaw fled as the Ironclad collapsed, only to have a shell from the Defender's heavy cannon tear through its head and into its furnace.
Most of the company's soldiers stumbled to the walls, where many of them had haphazardly leaned their rifles. Suddenly, explosions ripped through the assembled troopers as shells from a warjack-sized cannon phased through the walls, becoming corporeal as they struck their targets. The more sober troopers realized that a warcaster was involved, using the eyes of the Slayers and bonejacks to pick out targets for the ghost shots of a Harrower's mortifier cannon. This was confirmed as a premature manifestation caused a shell to detonate inside the wall, spraying wooden shrapnel at the nearest riflemen and revealing the Harrower just beyond. Hungry for souls, the quadrupedal helljack pressed forward, pushing its perisher through the hole and tearing into the terrified soldiers. Another ghost shot crippled the Defender's cannon as the four Slayers advanced on the three remaining Cygnaran warjacks.
Shouts of panic filled the air as the surviving soldiers attempted to run around the Cryxian warjacks and flee the fortification which now trapped them. The trenchers at the front of the crowd, however, found themselves face-to-face with the Deathjack, which swept its spiked claws in wide arcs, battering and crushing victim after victim as they turned to run away from the necrotechnological horror. One Harrower remained at its hole in the wall while the other circled to the entrance, standing guard should any victims escape the Deathjack's rampage. The Deathjack's eyes glowed brighter as it tapped into its master's mind, borrowing the warcaster's arcane knowledge and using the souls it had gathered to power a number of magical explosions that killed dozens of men even as its claws took more lives and the yawning void in its furnace collected the souls of the fallen. The Cyclone fired a hail of bullets at the Deathjack before being charged by two Slayers, but most of them bounced off harmlessly. A few of the bullets managed to gouge into the Deathjack's hull, but it simply killed more soldiers and rendered down their souls, smoothing out the dents as their immortal essences burned.
The Slayers crippled the Cyclone, although it managed to cripple one with its fists before the others finished it off. A combination of Harrower shells and explosive spells from the Deathjack ruined the Defender as the remaining Slayers and Ripjaw finished the other Ironclad. Knife-wielding trencher commandos, proving that even severe inebriation did not completely disable them, had punched open holes in the leg pistons of three Deathrippers, while the fourth had been crushed under the second Ironclad's quake hammer even as a Slayer had ripped that warjack's other arm off. The Harrowers had moved into the fort proper, joining the Deathjack in feeding their ghoulish hunger for souls. The wood burning in the fort's many campfires had been scattered, lighting grass, tents, and even the wooden walls aflame.
Snapping one last victim in half, the Deathjack peered around, looking for another target, but none of the soldiers were moving. All of them were on the ground, many in rough groups, and all of them bleeding, missing limbs, or crushed and twisted in horrifying ways. The abominable machine turned towards the entrance, following unspoken guidance from its current master, and was about to leave the fort when an armor-piercing shell slammed through its faceplate and ricocheted through several vital internal components before lodging itself in the warjack's furnace. The Deathjack let out a steam-made bellow and tried to fire an arcane explosion into the dark forest, only to discover that its master had cut it off; the warjack could no longer borrow her spells. A high-caliber shell emerged from the shadows and tore into the Deathjack's knee, forcing it into a kneeling position. A hail of bullets and shells of multiple sizes pounded the damaged helljack. With no fresh victims, the Devil in Iron was unable to repair itself, as souls had to be rendered before they entered the machine's furnace. The great machine finally collapsed under the withering hail of lead, which subsequently ruined a Harrower and the remaining Ripjaw.
The other Harrower fired a ghost shot into the woods, but got nothing for its trouble except the sound of a tree being blown apart and a shell ripping straight through its hull and out the back. The Slayers, lacking ranged weaponry, moved into a V-shaped formation and charged towards the trees, but were crippled by precisely-aimed shots before reaching the treeline.
"That's all of them." Twilight Sparkle announced, using her magic to begin removing her armor. As each piece came off, she dropped it into a pit she'd dug, also using her magic. Allister Caine holstered his pistols.
"I have to say, that was an ugly way of doing things," Caine pointed out, "those guys were traitors to the last man, but I just don't know if they deserved to have their souls fed to helljacks."
"Probably not," Twilight said. Caine noticed that several patches of hair were missing from her coat, and her skin in those areas was raw. He realized that the pony must have been in that armor for weeks. "But we did what we had to do. And on that note," Twilight continued, "I remember promising to set up a meeting between you and Princess Celestia, so if you accompany me... to..." the pony suddenly collapsed, and Caine lept to catch her. Looking blearily up at him, Twilight spoke again. "Sorry," she mumbled, "I forgot how long it's been since I've slept. I kept myself going mainly on fear, but I guess that'll only get a pony so far, huh?" With that, Twilight promptly fell asleep. Caine wordlessly lifted her into the hands of a Cyclone, which carried the unicorn with surprising gentleness as it, along with three Hunters and a Defender, followed the warcaster into the night.
Captain Ian Goddard struggled to his feet. He had been crushed under several of his own soldiers, but found himself able to lift their bodies off of him. He didn't care why the attack had come, nor did he care that his entire company lay dead before him, or even that his left leg was quite obviously broken. There was something he needed to do, and it required him to abandon the bodies of his men, force his leg to work by sheer willpower, and walk. The officer seized two large, spiked, skull-shaped decorations from the wreck of one of the Cryxian warjacks, and began dragging them behind him, heedless of their weight. He didn't know exactly where he was going, but he knew he needed a steamjack. Any steamjack. There was something he needed to do.
After staggering through the forest for some time -Goddard didn't know or care how long- he saw the entrance to a cave. The fact that no caves were known to exist in the area didn't bother him, and neither did the eerie green light it emitted. He also didn't care how he knew he could find a steamjack in the cave. There was something he needed to do. Captain Goddard dragged the decorative skulls into the cave.
He followed the green light into a tunnel, which led down into the earth, coming out into a large chamber. The chamber was obviously artificial, and was full of many people who appeared to be Cryxians, but Goddard didn't care. He saw many steamjacks, and there was something he needed to do. The Cryxians moved as if to attack him, but stopped when they saw the skulls. They knew what he needed to do. Reaching the closest steamjack, Captain Goddard let go of one of the skulls, and lifted the other onto the steamjack's shoulder. He didn't know how the skull stayed in place without any bolts or hooks to hold it, but added it to the list of things he didn't care about. He was almost done with the thing he needed to do. He took the other skull and placed it on the 'jack's other shoulder.
With the Skulls of Hate in place, Goddard watched blankly as the steamjack began to transform. The paint on its hull disappeared, leaving only black iron behind. The machine grew taller and broader, its claws growing to massive size. Its tusks vanished and where replaced by wicked horns as its head changed shape. Its single smokestack was joined by three others that emerged from the steamjack's broadening back. The 'jack's lower torso became a hollow cage with rib-like iron bars, and within this cage appeared a sickly, green light. Smoke began to pour from its stacks as the helljack's eyes lit up, and chains appeared around its claws.
Captain Ian Goddard had only a moment to realize what he had done as the Deathjack's claws swung towards him, then there was only darkness.