Chapter 4 - First Contact

DropShip Red Skye
Low Orbit, Unknown planet (Terra Analog)
September 8th

Garth O'Connell was not a happy man. This statement would be true most times, but it took on new layers of meaning as the grizzled mercenary stared down at the electronic plotting table in the Red Skye's bridge. “Where the frack is everything?” He asked, anger and confusion mixing into a potently explosive combination.

“Well,” the captain of the Red Skye began, “we've picked up a fair number of radar returns that show a good many towns-”

“This is freakin' Terra!” O'Connell rounded on the spacer. “There shouldn't be just towns, there should be cities! Megacities! Arcologies! Or at least enough pieces of them to form a carpet of junk from ocean to ocean.” The mercenary turned back to the plot and watched the composite image slide as it moved to show the area immediately below the Overlord-class DropShip. “What the frack just removes all of that and leaves behind towns?”

His executive officer decided now was the best time to speak up. “We've still got the east coast of this continent to pass over yet, boss,” Kilroy offered. “Coasts are always good to find cities, even on newer worlds.”

“Yeah,” O'Connell said, but while his volume had been reduced to a reasonable level his anger was still present. “But didn't you notice the whole place looks wrong?” He asked, looking back over at the Skye's captain. “Grimes, I'm not imagining it, am I?” For a wonder, O'Connell was genuinely asking now. “Or did I get taught the wrong map when I took history in school?”

“I wish you had been,” Grimes replied. “Because then at least I could tell you so and everything would be sane and normal. But nothing on this globe is quite the way it should be. I'm seeing big shifts in coastlines, mountain ranges, and rivers, just to name the most obvious.”

“Then is it really Terra?” Kilroy asked. “I know the charts match up and all, but this,” he gestured to the plotting table, “is like some sort of caricature of a world map. It looks like a kid took crayons and started doodling Terra's coastlines from memory.”
“It can't be anything but Terra,” Grimes protested. “It's in the right spot, it has the right mass, it has Luna in the right position, and it's about one AU out from the primary.”

“But it can't be,” Kilroy said. “This doesn't look anything like it.”

“Doesn't matter,” O'Connell said, interrupting the others' argument. “We're going in.”

“What?” Kilroy asked, shocked. Then he saw his commander staring down at the plot and saw the same thing O'Connell did; a cluster of cities of various sizes near the coastline of one of the smaller continents.

“Whatever's going on,” O'Connell continued. “There's still someone living down there. And cities that big at the least will have valuables.”

“They don't look damaged,” Kilroy countered. “They might have enough forces to fight us.”

“Something tells me they won't,” O'Connell said, his voice distant. “Dunno why, but I know it. Grimes,” he added, turning to look at the spacer. “Mark the big city there,” he said and pointed to one on the coast. “And shape orbit to land us right in the middle of it on the next pass.”

“Yes sir,” the captain replied, and then turned to carry out the directive.

Guards Barracks, Royal Palace
Canterlot, Equestria
September 8th 1023 RC

“All guards scramble! All guards scramble! This is not a drill, all guards scramble now!” The voice of the captain of the guards reverberated throughout the barracks, carried more by sheer force of volume than any magic or technology. In every room, in every station pegasi raced about, stepping into armor mounting racks that helped them equip themselves with little outside help. Helms fit snugly onto heads and spears and blades were brought out of their careful storage to be carried in slings that would let them be used easily even by ponies that lacked a unicorn's magical telekinesis.

The noise of all this activity in the predawn hours rose into a tremendous racket, waking up ponies across Canterlot, as well as the entire palace. Six ponies in particular rushed out from guest rooms in the palace and were quickly guided by staff to the throne room, arriving to find Princess Luna standing amidst several older ponies dressed in royal livery. At the entrance of the Elements of Harmony, however, the princess of the night held up a hoof and bade the young mares towards her. “I am glad thou art here,” Luna said earnestly. “The first set of strangers hath begun their approach to our world.”

“They're landing?” Twilight Sparkle asked, still trying to get her mind in working order after being awakened in the middle of the night.

“Yes, and they are headed for Manehattan,” Luna responded. “I hath activated the guards and my sister is being awakened as we speak. I hath also called for some chariots for thee, and General Stonewall here,” she gestured to a dark gray earth pony with a red mane, “will go with thee and thine out with the airborne guards to see if their intentions are peaceful.”

“And if they're not peaceful?” Fluttershy asked, her voice wavering, but still strong enough to speak through her fear.

“Then we fight a delaying action while the guards' earth pony and unicorn contingents march out to meet us,” Stonewall answered, his voice accented similarly to Applejack's. “Meanwhile, the royals will call up a full army, if the situation calls for it.”

“Now wait a moment, please,” Rarity spoke up, her affected accent cutting through the background of murmurs from the other royal advisers in the throne room. “Isn't it a bit early to be worrying about fighting them?”

“Miss, it is better to be ready and not have to act, than needing to act and not being ready,” Stonewall stated the old axiom. “I hope they're peaceful as apple pie and far more appealing, but we cannot take chances with the safety of Equestria.”

“Quite right,” an unmistakable voice spoke from the entrance to the throne room, and everypony turned and bowed to Celestia as she purposefully strode in. “However, there shall be a slight change in plans. General Stonewall will not be the only pony going with you.”

Most of the gathered ponies seemed somewhat confused at this proclamation, save Luna, who gasped lightly. “Celestia, please,” she begged, and then trotted over to stand in front of her sister. “Thou art needed here.”

“I'm needed out at Manehattan as well,” the white alicorn replied. “Whatever may happen, one of us must go as a representative of Equestria. You have always been the better of us for organization and efficiency, Luna, and I cannot think of anypony I would trust more to raise an army if it comes to that.”

“That is not a good reason, and thou knowest it,” Luna protested. “You are the one everypony looks to in a crisis, the one who has always had a level head and a calm demeanor. You are a born leader the likes of which I am not and could never be. It took me a thousand years of isolation and the Elements of Harmony to drive that lesson in, and I will not stand here and let thee go off to face heavens know what!”

The sudden outburst of emotion stopped everypony in their tracks, and all stared in surprise at the ordinarily reserved and proper night princess. For her part Luna used the silence to take in a deep breath, and then she continued in a calmer vein. “Please, mine sister,” she said imploringly. “You are needed here, and not just by the government.”

Celestia unfolded a wing and stretched it out to gently rub the feathered tip against her sister's muzzle. “You have no idea how much it warms my heart to hear the love in your voice,” Celestia said. “But you know why I must go. We have both felt the shift in the Binding; something is about to change the way our world works, and these new creatures are no doubt part of it. I must be there, Luna, so as to lend my hoof in its shaping. Or barring that, I will at least be able to see what has changed and come up with a way to adapt.

“So I must go,” Celestia added, and then smiled. “But the Elements of Harmony will be with me, as well as the best and the brightest of Equestria. If you must worry,” she continued, her voice growing dire. “Then concern yourself for the citizens of Manehattan, for they will be the first to see the new shape of the world.”

Red Skye 'Mech Bay, Deck 9
Approaching unknown city, anomalous planet
September 8th

The thunder of fusion engines shook through the entire compartment, and even reached up into the cockpit of the 85-ton Battlemaster that O'Connell used as his personal BattleMech. He ignored it readily, however, as it was utterly familiar whereas the feed he was getting from the Red Skye's external cameras was not. “Grimes, if you're screwing with me I'm going to do unkind things to you.”

“Major,” the ship's captain began, using O'Connell's technical title as commander of a battalion, “do you really think I would make up something like this and expect you to believe it?” He asked, his incredulity seeping through the normally dehumanizing radio channel. “I'm the one feeding you the take and even I don't believe it.”

What they saw was utterly confusing to their long cynical minds. Although the ship was several kilometers above their target that was still in local twilight, the cameras were already returning quality images, and at first O'Connell had been pleased to see them. The city they were descending upon might not be one of Terra's megalopoli, but it was large enough to warrant an extensive transport system in and around its environs, mainly roads but also rail lines. Nothing seemed to have been damaged at all, and as the Red Skye descended through the planet's upper atmosphere they had finally detected artificial radio waves. The technology being used was old frequency modulated analog, but at least it proved there was some sort of industrial base that they might loot. It had given the mercenary commander some hope that the whole affair following the misjump might be profitable after all.

Now, though, he simply stared in confounded silence as he watched an image of some sort of horse statue holding up a torch and a book, similar to an old Earth monument that had been destroyed during Amaris the Usurper's occupation. The camera panned down, shifting from the statue to a look of the large park Grimes was aiming the ship to land in, and even at this range, O'Connell could make out various shapes of pastel figures milling about, looking up. Even with the odd angle produced by looking almost straight down on them, he could tell they weren't human.

They look like the freakin' statue.

Deep below, something about the situation finally threw a switch, and the grizzled MechWarrior felt an anger building in his chest. This is a joke, isn't it? He asked himself. Some sort of cosmic joke, a giant freakin' practical joke with me as the center. His hands tightened on the armrests of his command couch as the rage grew. Thrown out of Free Skye, hunted by Loghrin, the Blakies' ROM, and forced to take a contract guarding some company's factories that doesn't give us the right to arm from them, the misjump, and now this?

Grimes said something, and O'Connell had to shake his head briefly to regain his wits. “What was that?” He gruffly asked.

“I said radar's got targets flying in from the west,” the Red Skye's commander repeated. “Coming in slow, too slow to be fighters. Too small, as well, but I've got hundreds of 'em on the scope.”

“VTOLs?” O'Connell asked.

“I wish,” Grimes replied, his voice again taking on a timbre of sheer confusion. “Those freakin' horse things are flying?”

“Give me the feed!” O'Connell barked out. Grimes didn't reply verbally, but soon enough the camera view on an auxiliary MFD switched from the downward view to one facing west. To his consternation, O'Connell saw ranks upon ranks of the hose creatures, though this had wings and were using them rather well, or so it seemed.

He didn't recognize them, mythology being one amongst many topics his education omitted. He did, though, study them as closely as the feed allowed, and despite the situation, O'Connell found himself grinning as he saw the sort of armor and weapons they carried. “Just take us down, Grimes,” he ordered. “Keep the gun crews up and tracking, but hold your fire for now. We just might be able to intimidate the locals after all.”

“Is that what you're calling those things?” The spacer asked, more in shock than in disgust. “How the frack did they build a city without hands?”

“I'm sure we'll find out,” O'Connell said. “Meanwhile, make the feed open to everyone and I'll let the boys know we seem to have finally found some sort of alien life.”

“Alien life that makes cities and statues that are parodies of real ones on Terra, on a planet that is itself a mockery of the homeworld?” Grimes asked, still sounding shaken up.

“You got a better explanation?” The grizzled major asked, and then waited in silence for a bit as the Overlord-class DropShip continued her descent. “Didn't think so. Just pass it to Greg and let me think in peace on how we're going to leverage the situation.”

Approaching Manehattan, Equestria
September 8th 1023 RC

“Must we wear this atrociously gauche armor?” Rarity asked from one of the chariots being pulled through the sky. “It's ruining my coiffure.”

Twilight Sparkle had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes at her friend. “It's necessary to protect us in case we're attacked,” the lavender unicorn told the white one, since they rode in the same chariot. “You've been told this.”

“I know,” Rarity said, pouting slightly. “But it's just so unfair. We get guards hand-me-downs that look all drab and boring – oh, no offense, good sirs,” Rarity quickly added, when one of the two pegasi pulling their chariot turned his head to give her an irritated look. “But meanwhile, all you have to do is look at Princess Celestia and see how truly fashionable you can make even plate metal look!”

Twilight felt a twinge of anxiety at the mention of her mentor in armor, but she forced it down and glanced ahead of the two chariots and two independent flying pegasi that carried – or were – her friends. Ahead by a few dozen feet was Princess Celestia herself, resplendent in armor that looked both ancient and meticulously bejeweled, and yet shined like new in the crowning sun and moved with simple ease. That the alicorn even had armor of her own had surprised the other ponies, let alone that what she possessed was so magnificently crafted. Celestia had not been forthcoming on the origin of her equipment, but the fact she had it spoke volumes of her past.

The lavender unicorn shook her head then to get her mind out of ruminating on such things when the future was at hand and uncertain. Twilight looked up and saw the glowing pillar of light that reached out from under the strange egg-shaped object that even now could barely be seen as it descended towards Manehattan's Central Park. The angle had been confirmed from reports from the city, and now that Manehattan was in sight of the quick-flying group of guards they could all see its destination for themselves. Twilight suppressed a shudder of fear as she turned her eyes away, knowing that she did not know anything about the incoming strangers, and instead she swept her eyes across the others in the group at the core of the flying guards. Applejack and Pinkie pie shared a second chariot a short distance away, while general Stonewall had a third chariot to himself. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, both being pegasi, naturally flew alongside the chariots holding their friends.

The chariot shifted underneath her, and Twilight was forced from her thoughts as Celestia lead them downward towards Manehattan's outskirts. The other pegasus guards remained high and noticeable as instructed as they flew onward to be ready to form a perimeter around wherever the strangers would land. The princess and her immediate consorts, meanwhile, continued to lose altitude until they leveled out well below the tops of Manehattan's more modest buildings. Twilight Sparkle blinked in surprise at this, and then goggled when she looked forward and saw Celestia turn and head for the narrow spaces between buildings, soon followed by the chariot-pullers. Her amazement turned into a cringe as the buildings came up fast, and despite herself Twilight flinched at seeing the glass and concrete towers whiz by only a few feet to the side.

It was then that she finally noticed the sound. Truthfully, she had heard it before, but she had ignored it until now, thinking it was some unimportant noise or just her nerves. Now, however, the fierce rumbling sound was too loud to be ignored as it shook the air, and through it Twilight Sparkle. She had precious little time to wonder at it before Celestia finally angled downward one more time and brought the group with her to the ground.

Unbidden, Twilight and the other ground-bound ponies hopped out of the chariots, while Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy landed near their friends. They all looked around and found themselves in the middle of Manehattan's famous Whooves Square, in a clearing of the many, many ponies who lived and worked and played in the city. Now, though, Twilight could see that most of them were carrying bundles and luggage and heading in one direction, away from the center of the city where the strangers from afar were even now landing. “Did someone order an evacuation?” The lavender unicorn asked.

“I did,” Stonewall said as he trotted over to join with the elemental ponies. “Voluntary, of course, but I'm glad to see most ponies took it to heart.”

“General, ladies,” Celestia called from where she stood. “Please attend me. Guards,” she added, looking back at the pegasi who had pulled the chariots and the few escorts that had peeled from the main group above. “Help the charioteers out of their harnesses, and then all deploy for crowd control. We will make our way forward on hoof.”

“Is that wise, princess?” The most senior ranking guard asked. “It will take longer and the crowds might clog the streets.”

“Hence the need for crowd control,” Celestia replied. “I appreciate your concern, Starbuck, but chariots are vulnerable, and some of our party cannot fly.” She glanced back at the six ponies who held her nation's fate in their hooves, and then nodded once to them before turning back to the officer. “Besides, it will do the ponies of this city good to see that the situation is not below my notice.”

“If you say so, milady,” Starbuck said, clearly unhappy about the situation but unable to do anything about it. Instead, he trotted off to oversee the other guards as they went about carrying out their monarch's orders. Meanwhile, Twilight Sparkle and her friends trotted up to join Celestia after the princess waved them forward with a wing. “Are you ready, my little ponies?” The alicorn asked, still looking down the street that led to Central Park.

Twilight glanced over her friends and met each one in the eye. Much to her relief and pride, every pony looked back with an expression of determination, even Fluttershy and Pinkie, though both of them had their respective personalities tempering it one way or the other. Satisfied, Twilight turned back to Celestia and nodded. “As much as we can ever be, princess.”

“Then let us go,” Celestia said, and then trotted off, soon followed by the others.

O'Connell felt the Skye touch down, the shock of 9,700 metric tonnes coming to rest against gravity enough to cause his 'Mech to sway a bit before the war machine's gyros stabilized it. He checked the exterior feed briefly again, noting that the pastel quadrupeds had withdrawn to a safe distance well before the backlash from the Overlord's fusion drive could have hurt them. The fact that they looked like tiny horses with huge eyes no longer bothered him, not when he saw that there was something clearly labeled as a bank just beyond the edge of the park. They've gotta use something rare to use as a base for currency. And even if it's something stupid like nail clippings, there's going to be something of worth here. You can't build a city without some some way to use energy efficiently, and some kind of wealth to make it worthwhile. Either of those can garner a few C-Bills, at least.

Part of him knew he was reaching, but at the moment O'Connell didn't care. A mercenary company ran on its bank accounts, and most outfits larger than a lance usually needed to keep paying its members regularly if it wanted to actually have them do their jobs and not jump ship with a valuable 'mech the first chance they got. A battalion like his Desperadoes needed much more than that to fund its technical crew and pay for consumables as well, and so the MechWarrior from Skye was more than willing to let himself hope that there would be something of worth on this strange echo of Terra.

The doors to the 'Mechbay started to open then, and O'Connell cut off the external feed and then opened a wideband channel to his command. “Alright boys and girls, I'm sure you've seen the imagery, so I won't bore you with details. The plan is get out, secure the LZ, and then look for loot. Smash and grab if you need to, but given what the indigs are like, I don't think we'll have problems taking the city.

“As for the locals, I know what they look like as much as you do. Frankly, I don't care anymore, so long as we get something of value. So orders are to ignore them unless they become a hassle. Or if you feel like target practice.” O'Connell knew that if the channel had been two-way that he would have heard some sniggers at the last comment. Although most of his band didn't care for cold-blooded killing, he wasn't shy about hiring those who were, and the rest at least knew to just look the other way so long as they weren't involved.

“So everyone deploy and good hunting.”

The royal entourage, such as it was, followed Celestia as she and the pegasus Starbuck cut a path straight through the crowds of ponies out to gawk. Twilight Sparkle wondered how crazy they had to be to do this, but that thought disappeared as the ground started to shake again. This time it was not from the rumble of strange energies, but from the unmistakable impact of heavy footfalls coming from straight ahead. Finally, Starbuck seemed to have enough, and he flew up a short distance to be seen above the crowd and shouted “Move aside! Make way for the princess!”

Quick looks from the ponies around them were all that was needed, and the crowd finally split apart all the way down unto its very edge. Emboldened, the group dashed forward and reached the park just as the first of the large, alien shapes descended the ramps leading down from the side of the egg-like craft.

“What in tarnation are those?” Applejack asked in shock as the group halted just inside the meadow-like park's southern boundary. Nopony answered her, as they were all staring in shock as first several, then dozens of humongous figures walked out on two legs and formed a circle around their building-sized craft. Many of them looked identical, while others seemed to be one-of-a-kind, yet all shared the same strange aesthetics and odd protrusions that marked them as nothing that anypony had ever seen before.

“I think they're machines,” Twilight found herself saying. “Look at the way the joints articulate, and the stiff way they stand,” she pointed out.

“Machines?” Applejack asked, furrowing her brows. “I ain't seen machines that do that.”

“That's kind of the point, AJ,” Rainbow Dash replied. “These guys aren't from around here.”

“Oooh! Do you think they'll want a party?” Pinkie Pie asked, bouncing easily despite the armor she wore.

Before anypony else could speak up, the machines started to move again, slowly walking forward and spreading out more. At the edges of the park ponies started to back up in mild panic as the giant machines plodded forward, seemingly ignorant of the tiny creatures at their feet. Then one machine, larger than the rest, stepped out from behind several of the others and turned its large torso and domed head together as if scanning the area. It stopped and pointed itself straight at the royal group, and then began to walk forward.

“I-I'm scared,” Fluttershy said as her knees buckled, the plate armor on her back starting to rattle as she shook.

“Strength, pony,” the general, Stonewall, said with authority. “Stand up and show some backbone.”

“General, that's like asking Pinkie Pie to not be pink,” Dash added.

“Be quiet,” Celestia said from in front of the others. She hadn't raised her voice one bit, but it commanded them all the same. “I have a feeling we are about to find understanding.”

Twilight and the others blinked in confusion, but they had little time to dwell on it before the massive machine stopped halfway between its fellows and the princess. “You look like you're in charge here,” a voice boomed out from the machine, masculine and sneering.

“I am Princess Celestia, ruler of the land of Equestria,” the princess proclaimed loudly. “And who are you who have come from so far?”

“The name is O'Connell. Major Garth O'Connell,” the machine replied. “And I'm here to give you an offer.”

“An offer?” Celestia asked, tilting her head to the side. “What would that be?”

“Give us your strategic and currency metals,” O'Connell demanded, his voice carrying a tone that would brook no argument. “Germanium, Titanium, Aluminum, Gold, that sort of thing. Also anything else you have that might be rare or valuable. Lostech might even buy you my good graces. Do this and we won't have to get nasty.”

“You want...” For the first time any living pony could remember, Celestia looked utterly confused. “You want our valuables?”

“Did I not make myself clear?” The machine boomed, and then raised its left arm, which had a giant fist and two ominous ports on its vambrace. “Shall I enhance your understanding?” With that, the arm aimed towards the ground between them, and gouts of flame shot forth. A terrible racket, like thunder and zippers combined, roared through the park as a line of stuttering lights reached out and chewed great clods of earth from the ground and sent them flying.

The demonstration lasted only a few seconds, yet as the weapons ceased their fire only an utter stillness filled the area. “Those were just little ones, too,” the voice teased, and the right arm of the machine came up, this one having a much, much larger opening. “This one is my big stick. I would say I don't want to use it, but then again, I don't really care. One way or the other you're going to make me a rich man, even if I have to capture a bunch of you to sell to the zoos back home.

“But feeding captives is expensive. Whereas a man can buy himself a small moon with just a single shipment of Germanium.” Twilight swore she could almost hear the savage grin in the voice. “I'll take whatever you've got, though. So my offer is this: either hand over all the goods we can stuff into our cargo holds, or my men and I will start ripping this city apart to get some. And we won't be nice about it.”

A few moments of silence fell over the city park then, which was itself a remarkable feat given that thousands of ponies were there, staring at the unbelievable tableau. “You came here,” Celestia said, her voice quiet yet perfectly clear in the quiet city, “to steal from us?”

“Oh, steal is such an ugly word for it,” O'Connell replied. “I prefer to think of it as a "redistribution of wealth." See, there are those who have more than others and that's just not fair, is it? And I note you have more than me and mine, so give it to us or we're going to take it by force.”

“What kind of monster are you?” Celestia demanded, her voice rising in pitch and laced with indignation. “What kind of spoiled being could stand in a park and demand wealth be handed to him when he hasn't earned it? What kind of immoral ruffian would think that they have a right to wealth just because they can use force to obtain it?”

“This kind,” O'Connell said, and in a flash the left arm of his machine swept out and aimed at a cluster of ponies that hadn't backed away from the park quite fast enough. Before anypony could intervene, the terrible sound blasted out again, and this time the stuttering trails of light intersected a number of bodies, and thereupon rendered them dead in a gruesome fashion.

If they had been scared before, Twilight and her friends could only look on in stark terror now. “They... that...” Applejack muttered, her eyes wide, while Fluttershy simply went into wordless shock.

“Just like that,” Twilight said, her voice a whisper. “Oh, goodness, how do we fight that?” The lavender unicorn was deep in fear for her life when a slight crackling was heard. Blinking away some of her terror, Twilight turned her head and saw energy starting to gather around the princess.

“You... You wretched beasts!” Celestia shouted, and most everypony in the area shuddered and turned to run in fear at seeing their monarch, a virtual goddess, shaking with rage. Bolts of magical energy started to trace over her body, and her wings seemed almost on fire as she spread them wide. “How dare you?”

A shove from the side startled Twilight out of the trance her fear and fascination had lulled her in, and she turned to see Pinkie Pie leading general Stonewall and Applejack, who were respectively carrying a catatonic Fluttershy and a fainted Rarity, while the princess' pegasus guards reluctantly followed by backpedaling in the air. The pony who nudged her was Rainbow Dash, who for once lacked any bravado. “The general said to get out of here,” Dash said, and then glanced at the princess and beyond her, the machines that were even now moving about to face the sudden, new threat. “I tend to agree with him that this isn't the best place to be right now.”

Twilight didn't say anything, but she nodded and darted off, with Rainbow Dash flying behind her. They followed the others in their group and put a building between them and the park just as the first exchange started.

O'Connell had seen and done a lot of things. Many of them had been worse than what he had just done by firing dual machine guns into a crowd of bystanders. Yet for all his experience he had never seen anyone turn into a fiery avatar of death, save that one time he set a damaged Rifleman on fire with inferno rounds and laughed as its pilot cooked in his own juices.

What he saw now, however, was no laughing matter, and he knew it. Bolts of energy crackled from the white creature that claimed to lead the others, and its eyes glowed with a power that was beyond his comprehension. Before he could give any orders to his men the horn on the creature's head glowed and suddenly chunks of earth were ripped from the ground as if by an invisible hand and thrown towards his Battlemaster at tremendous velocities.

He reacted on trained reflex, hunching forward in his seat and trusting the bulky neurohelmet he wore to translate the action into his 'Mech's control computers. There the impulse signal was processed and control orders were given to the war machine's artificial musculature in less time than it took for the chunks of land to reach their target. The armor absorbed most of the impact, its ablative properties taking the energy and absorbing it into the upper layers that vaporized, rather than transferring the whole of the kinetic energy into somewhere more important.

“Kill that thing!” O'Connell shouted into his radio, even as he triggered an alpha strike from all of his available weapons. His particle projection cannon fired first, and the artificial thunder from the stream of charged particles ripped the air apart even as it reached out to impact on the alien creature. O'Connell was only half surprised to see some sort of energy shield deflect the charged beam into several impotent streamers, but he was simultaneously gratified as he saw the creature stagger backwards under the force.

His lasers fired next as the 'mech's computers shunted energy around, and O'Connell felt the temperature in his cockpit rise significantly as the Battlemaster's cooling systems became overtaxed from the lasers and the increased output of its fusion reactor to feed the energy weapons. Sweat began to pour off of his body, but he kept his focus and did his best to keep the alien in his sights as the laser beams flashed out.

Four beams of coherent light reached out with fury, and while one missed entirely to spend its energy on a building facade the other three hit. Unlike before, the shield around the being didn't deflect but simply absorbed the light, re-radiating it as a diffused, harmless, yet ominous glow that surrounded and obfuscated the creature.

O'Connell barely had time to notice this as the heat spiked further upward as his short range missile launcher spat out six of the deadly weapons, their robotic seeker heads already directing them towards their target. At the short range the fight had begun at they had only a half second of flight time, yet to O'Connell's immense surprise a wind immediately whipped up and slammed the missiles off to the side, sending them to detonate against concrete, brick, and asphalt.

His final weapons, the machine guns, spat out their deadly streams of lead, and the mercenary was somewhat satisfied that the wind didn't bother the high-density projectiles so much, though again that infernal shield deflected them. What the frack is this thing? O'Connell wondered, feeling fear as the creature had slugged off an assault that would have torn a lightweight BattleMech into scrap metal.

Celestia had to fight her own body to keep from staggering. Although she had endured the assault, she had been surprised at the sheer volume of energy the machine threw at her, and her shielding spells had needed her direct attention to keep from overloading the crystal nodes in her armor that powered and directed them. As such she had to spend most of her time in defense, rather than on attack, though as the pieces of metal bounced off of her shield she resolved to change that.

The alicorn glanced to the side and called upon her telekinetic magic again. This time whole chunks of evacuated, empty buildings were ripped away from their parent structures and thrown at the foul beast that had dared to so mercilessly, so callously hurt and kill her beloved ponies. Dozens, then hundreds of the projectiles flew through the air, directed not only at the thing that called itself “O'Connell” but also at its cohorts. None of them, after all, had stopped their leader, nor had they any qualms with his demands. Thus her justice would reach for them, as well.

Or so she tried. Celestia could feel the creatures before her quake in surprise and fear, yet underneath that was a current of iron that allowed them to stand and take the punishment she was dishing out. Not only stand up to it, she saw, but they advanced, moving their machines forward to get a clear aim at her, and one by one they aimed their weapons and fired.

There were so many more this time, so much directed energy and mass. Celestia felt her defense spells buckling, unable to hold up against the avalanche. She launched herself into the air, flapping her wings furiously to escape those deadly attentions, and felt a momentary relief as many of her attackers lost their focus on her. Yet a good number of them retained her in their sights, and another wave of kinetic, thermal, and light energy slammed into her even as she rose into the sky. She shrugged these attacks off as best she could, but Celestia could feel her spells weakening further. This must end now, she told herself, even as she halted her upward progress and turned to look down at the enemies below. They had spread out to avoid being targeted easily, which would make her task harder though not impossible.

Celestia hovered in place for a moment while her enemies continued to fire their weapons at her. At this longer distance more of them missed, but enough hit that she forced herself to hurry the spell she planned on casting. I hope I remember it right, father.

“Keep firing, *kssh*oles!” The voice of O'Connell blared through Kilroy's radio, mutilated somewhat by the constant discharge of energy weapons in the immediate area. As if we need the instruction, you pompous son of an Amaris, Gregory thought with annoyance directed towards his overbearing commander. He, like most of the mercenary company, was completely flummoxed and not a little intimidated by an alien being that could withstand the combined firepower of an entire battalion of BattleMechs, and all of the Desperadoes wanted to see it dead lest it come for them personally.

For his part, Kilroy leaned his Marauder's torso back and raised its arms, deciding to go with a bit more overheating than use up more of his precious autocannon ammunition. Two beams of cerulean fury lashed out at a pull of his triggers, and though one missed, Kilroy was pleased to see the other impacted right after a wave of long-range missiles had spread a dirty daisy chain of fireballs around the airborne creature. For a moment, he saw it stagger, and Gregory felt a sense of triumph.

The feeling did not last long, however, as he felt his 'Mech start to shake. Confused and worried, Kilroy immediate took his attention from the holographic HUD and swept his eyes across the extensive instrumentation of his cockpit. Briefly his confusion peaked as he saw no indications of mechanical failure, but as the shaking grew worse he glanced out of the cockpit and saw the buildings around the park starting to shake.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Kilroy shouted to no one, having not triggered his radio. He looked over the HUD and its 360-degree view compressed into a 180-degree arc, and with his practiced eye he saw the other 'Mechs in the battalion break off their attacks as the ground started to tear itself apart around their feet. As he watched a Hunchback slip into one of the cracks up to its waist before the ground seemed to liquify and pour in around it.

Kilroy knew that to stay still was death, and so he punched his throttle to its maximum. The 75-ton Marauder responded like a champ, accelerating quickly to its top speed of 64.8 km/h despite being over two hundred years old. The short distance sprint saved him from a similar fate of the Hunchback and most every other ground-bound 'Mech that fell into a shallow grave.

But some 'Mechs weren't so helpless, and the majority of the Desperadoes' machines carried jump jets, which their pilots used to great effect to escape the heaving ground. Most of them did as Kilroy had done and went for the nearest pavement, whereupon they again turned their weapons up at the flying being that had to be the source of their torment.

Something moving to the side caught Kilroy's attention then, and he glanced to see that even the Red Skye was starting to sway. Then an idea hit him, and he wondered how he could have been so stupid to forget about the battalion's transport while he opened a channel to the DropShip. “Grimes!” Kilroy shouted, making sure that he would be heard despite the rumbling that seemed to permeate the entire area. “Get your weapons on that white alien and blast it before it buries the Skye!” He had no idea if that was the creature's goal, but it seemed obvious enough that its anger was profound and Gregory rather suspected that it wouldn't stop at just the battalion's MechWarriors.

Before he even finished that thought, the batteries of weapons mounted on the Overlord's sides and nose turned and fired, unleashing a wave of destruction as potent as another two companies of 'Mechs. Emboldened by this, Kilroy turned his weapons back on the strange creature and led the Desperadoes in redoubling their attack.

It had taken so much of her gathered power, but Celestia felt hope as she saw her gambit start to work. The very ground underneath the aggressors heaved as if possessed and opened up to swallow them whole. Yet even as she continued to channel the spell, she saw most of her enemies fly themselves on jets of silvery flame and escape the trap. How many more surprises can these things have? She wondered as she prepared to unleash another spell.

The surprise came not from the machines though, but rather from the massive ship they had rode in on. Celestia felt genuine panic as dozens of weapons on the egg-shaped vessel vented their fury at her, and only the automatic nature of her defenses kept her from taking the hits directly. I had no idea they would arm something like that!

Her shock made her hesitate as she considered what to do about this new threat, which unfortunately was all it took for the enemies who'd escaped her last attack to turn their weapons upon her. Another wave of violent energies tore at her, and Celestia barely had time to register this before one of the crystals protecting her finally became overstressed at the demands put upon it, and it shattered. Suddenly bereft of one of the interlocking defense spells, Celestia's armor could no longer withstand the blistering fury of energy and mass being flung at her, and the other defenses buckled and failed one by one, absorbing just enough energy to siphon off the worst of the assault. Unfortunately, the last spell failed just before a Large-class laser fired by a Phoenix Hawk landed a direct hit. Kilojoules of coherent photons blasted through shields that were no longer there and descended upon the alicorn's body with an impersonal fury.

Celestia's armor's physical component and her own magical nature acted as one last form of defense, albeit an insufficient one; she wasn't instantly vaporized, but the searing photons ripped at her like nothing else had ever done. Pain overwhelmed her, and her wings burst into actual flame as she screamed and fell from the sky.

Twilight Sparkle appeared at the top of the building behind Celestia in a blink, and then staggered as she had also teleported with Applejack and Stonewall. They had left Pinkie Pie and a resuscitated Rarity to continue back to the chariots with two guards to evacuate the catatonic Fluttershy so they could get a better view of the battle and see if they could help in some way. All three of the ponies shook off the effects of the teleportation spell and quickly trotted to the side of the roof to look upon the battlefield just as princess Celestia was hurling chunks of building at her foes. “Oh sweet mother of apples,” Applejack muttered in amazement at the sight.

“That's why I said to get clear,” Stonewall commented as Rainbow Dash and several of the pegasus guards joined them, having flown up themselves. “She's mad, and I don't want to be those strangers 'bout now.”

“Isn't there anything we can do to help?” Twilight asked. Before she got an answer, though, the enemy responded to Celestia's attack with a wave of fiery death that blasted into her defenses. The three ponies from Ponyville gaped in awe as the princess' spells deflected the assault and protected her, and then flinched as stray attacks from the enemy started ripping into the building they stood upon

“Starbuck,” Stonewall called to the lead pony of Celestia's personal detail. “Go tell the airborne to initiate attack protocol twenty-three.”

“Yes sir!” The brown-coated pegasus replied, and then shot upwards towards the hundreds of his fellow guardsmen above. Scarcely had he left when the eyes of those ponies left at the roof were drawn to a white blur racing upwards from the ground. Beams of destructive light and the other, stranger weapons blasted through the air after Celestia, and those on the roof ducked reflexively as more than a few of them ripped into the building just feet below their hooves.

“What is she doing?” Twilight asked, glancing over to Stonewall.

The latter pony just shook his head and then ducked as another weapon cut through the air nearby. “I don't have any notion, lady,” he replied. “Just hold on and be prepared for anything.”

Scarcely had he finished saying these words when the rumbling began. Everypony on the roof spread their legs wide to maintain stability as the building began to shake back and forth, though the pegasi quickly took off and hovered a few feet above the roof. “Is Celestia doing that?” Applejack asked.

“Yes,” Twilight said as she looked up and saw her mentor channeling an immense amount of magical energy. Her lessons over the past days had revealed much of magic's inner workings to her, and she could now see the force lines tracking along the local web of the Binding, reaching down into the earth below and forcing the ground to reverberate with the princess' power. “Look, she's using the ground itself against them!”

Sure enough it was as Twilight said, and the others watched in silent awe as several of the enemy machines were gobbled up partially or wholly by the fierce spell. Yet their hopes fell as they saw the majority of the foe escape, either by riding on jets of silver, or simply running for the more stable roads ringing the park. “General, where's that air support?” Twilight asked, looking over at the earth pony.

“Twenty-three takes a bit of time,” Stonewall replied. He looked about to say more, but was preempted as the invaders' ship suddenly let loose with a display of pyrotechnics that those who'd witnessed it would remember until the end of their days. It tore into the princess' shielding spells, and though they held Twilight could easily see that they were stressed to the breaking point.

Then fire erupted from below, claws of light and heat and explosives and metal reached up to swipe at Celestia as if a manticore was trying to swat an annoying insect. The fierce display of concentrated energy finally proved too much, and in the blink of an eye Celestia's defenses failed just as she was impaled by a shaft of brilliant light.

A scream sounded, and Twilight felt herself shake as she saw her mentor, her princess, a pony with near godlike power fall from her lofty position in the sky, her wings aflame.

Rainbow Dash would not have admitted it to anypony, but she had been scared almost as much as Fluttershy at seeing helpless innocents cut down like hay in a field. Only her sense of loyalty had kept her going, kept her from flying away in terror. As she watched Celestia fall, though, that struggle died as something more than loyalty burst through her, and before she even had a conscious thought the pegasus had shot away from the building at her best speed. Propelled by her duty, Dash ducked underneath the falling princess' body and in a split second took the alicorn's weight upon her back.

Searing pain met her as she did so, as Celestia's ruined armor was still partially molten from the furious energy that had rended it, and globs of slag leaked through the chainmail armor that Dash wore. The cyan pegasus let loose her own involuntary scream of pain, but it was mere instinct, as her mind had no time for such things. She flapped her wings hard and channeled as much of her energy as she could into flying, and Dash turned both herself and the princess towards the tower that she had so recently departed.

Unfortunately, speed does not always equal raw power, and so Dash felt herself losing altitude as the alicorn she bore weighed her down. She was starting to think that she would crash land and have to carry Celestia on hoof when the weight suddenly became manageable, and she spared a glance to either side to see that some of the princess' guards had caught up with her and were now helping to carry the wounded princess away from the enemies behind them.

A searing bolt of heat and light passed to the right, reminding Dash of the urgency of the situation, and she channeled more of her energy into forward movement than simply fighting against gravity. With the two guards helping it became easy enough, and they raced to put buildings between their charge and the enemies who had stricken her down.

O'Connell wanted to cheer the moment the creature took its dive, but he withheld his enthusiasm as he had seen enough by now not to become overconfident again. His practicality was rewarded when he saw several of the flying creatures race out to save their leader, and he took grim satisfaction as he aimed his Battlemaster's PPC and pulled the trigger. Sadly, the shot went wide, and the human snarled in frustration as he worked the pedals at his feet to try and get the 'Mech's legs free of the dirt that had only barely swallowed the machine up to its ankles. “After them,” he called on the all-battalion channel. “Five hundred C-bills to the man who brings me that thing's head.”

“We got other problems, boss,” his second in command, Kilroy, replied. “Skies are ugly now.”

The warning made the mercenary commander look up, and he boggled slightly as he saw a wave of the flying creatures diving straight down on the battalion. All of them seemed to be carrying something large, and they moved so rapidly that he couldn't make it out. “Anti-air formation, now!” O'Connell called, though he knew he couldn't form up himself. “Grimes, cover us,” he added, and then aimed his PPC to the sky and fired, joining in the wave of death that reached up to swat at the incoming attackers.

Several of them died instantly, vaporized or ripped apart by modern weaponry. The rest kept coming, diving until the last second before releasing their payloads and flattening out barely above the tops of the nearby towers. The large objects they dropped slammed into the ground with a heavy force, and several slammed hard into the shoulders and torsos of various 'Mechs.

O'Connell himself watched on such object, dropped by a gray-green creature in plate armor, rained down and slammed into his Battlemaster's torso. The shock was enough to send the 'mech's gryos out of sync, and O'Connell had to fight to keep the machine upright. After he was sure he wasn't going to fall, the mechwarrior spared a glance down at what had hit him, and he blinked in mild surprise as he saw that it was simply a large chunk of metal, smoothly shaped for flight.

Clever, he thought, forcing himself to admire the tenacity and ingenuity. They don't have industrialized warfare, but they know how to use their flight well enough. O'Connell returned his attention to the skies and again aimed for the attackers. Though the lead weights didn't do much damage to most 'Mechs, every chunk of armor they took off was one more that the mercenary company would have to pay to replace. Besides, I don't want a Golden BB killing me before I'm done here, O'Connell thought grimly, as he resolved himself to a more sedate campaign. This world and its inhabitants have shocked me enough. From now on I'm going to be the one shocking them.

Applejack, Stonewall, and Twilight Sparkle raced through the now-deserted streets, running back for the chariots. It doesn't feel right, Twilight thought with a glance behind and above her. In the sky the airborne guards continued to rain their lead slugs down on the foe, but they also continued to die in droves; despite being hard to target, the sheer volume of weapons firing upwards guaranteed that they would suffer tremendous losses. Yet they continued to press the attack, knowing that every minute they bought with their blood was another minute for their princess to be taken further away, and for the ponies of Manehattan to evacuate from these new and terrible foes.

Twilight remembered hearing of this dedication during the past week as she and her friends trained somewhat with the royal guards. At the time it had seemed odd, even foalish for anypony to display such a disregard for one's own being. But now as she watched it in action, the lavender unicorn could only shed silent tears as she saw more and more pegasi obliterated or swatted from the sky.

“There!” Applejack's voice broke Twilight from her silent mourning, and she turned her head back around as the trio of ponies rounded a corner and came upon the chariots. Or one, rather, as two of them had already been taken by the others to evacuate Fluttershy and Celestia. The remaining one had two pegasi waiting in harness already, their faces stoic but grim. As the trio of ground-bound ponies ran up Twilight could see the charioteers glance up to the sky, and she knew that only a greater duty kept them from flying to join their fellow guards in the suicidal attack.

“You two get on,” general Stonewall ordered as they reached the chariot. “I'll stay here and see if I can't organize a militia to slow them down if they try to leave the city.”

“General, you can't stand against those things,” Applejack rejoined. “Didn't you see what they did?”

“You bet your flank I did,” Stonewall said, and then spit off to the side. “I don't plan on standing in plain sight and letting them kill me, girl, but I'm not going to just let them take Manehattan or anywhere else without a fight. You two need to see Celestia to safety, and see if you can't get your friend to unfreeze and use that fancy magic of yours to help out.”

“General,” Twilight began, but then choked up briefly as the emotions of the scene started to overwhelm her. After a moment though, she cleared her throat and continued. “Stay safe, and good luck to you.”

“And to y'all as well,” Stonewall replied, and then smiled a grim, sad smile. “Now git!”

The two mares nodded their heads to the older earth pony and then climbed aboard the chariot. Barely had they done so when the two charioteer pegasi raced forward and built up speed until they were airborne.

Twilight looked back as the chariot turned and headed back towards Canterlot, and she saw the last pegasi finally breaking off their attack to return with them. Her heart broke as she saw barely a few dozen where there had once been hundreds, and again she wept silently. We're going to need more than luck, she thought. We'll need a miracle.

Chapter 5 - Second Contact

View Online

DropShip Heart of Steel
Low Orbit, Unknown planet (Terra Analog)
September 15th, AD 3070

“Dear, if you ever propose a burn over one gravity again, I may just have to kill you.”

James McKenna wryly chuckled at his wife's threat. “Now Rebecca, I know your maiden name isn't 'Kerensky'.”

“No, but I do pilot a Warhammer and I know where you sleep,” the female McKenna replied with an impish smile. “And I'm sure I could bribe Ivan with a homemade pie to conveniently move your bed outside while you're sleeping.”

“Such convoluted and devious thoughts in that head of yours,” James snarked, as he led the two down the narrow corridors of the Union-class ship. After a week of weighing one and a half times than what humans were made for, the relief of microgravity was a luxury that they both relished as they floated towards the Steel's bridge. “I knew there was a reason why I married you. Aside from your insanely good looks, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” Rebecca smirked, even though her husband had turned around to guide himself around a corner. Still, she let the expression color her voice as she continued. “That and the fact my family owned that Warhammer I mentioned.”

“Now that is uncouth, uncalled for, and completely exaggerated,” James replied as he stopped before a sealed hatch and turned back to face his wife. “The Warhammer was just a signing bonus for the marriage contract, that's all.”

Rebecca grabbed a nearby handhold and used it to brace her body so she could deliver a light kick to James' midsection. “You are a terrible human being with almost no redeeming qualities.”

“And you love me for it,” James replied after coughing a bit. “Though dear, in all seriousness, if you keep doing that as I get older you're going to break a rib.”

“Good,” Rebecca countered, taking on a superior air. “Maybe then you'll realize you're too old to run around getting shot at and we can retire for real.”

James had to suppress a sigh at that, as though he knew his wife was joking he could hear the undertones of iron determination and frustration. They had argued in the past about retiring from the business of war, but for his part James felt that he couldn't give it up just yet. There's going to be another argument sometime in the future, I know, the man with the graying hair thought as he turned back around and punched his personal code into the hatch leading to the ship's bridge. But leave that for later. You should fight only one hopeless battle at a time.

The hatch unsealed itself with a mild tone as the code took, and James quickly braced himself against the bulkheads so he could slide the metal door out of the way. It was supposed to open itself, but that particular mechanism had broken before his father was born, and every owner of the dropship since then had deemed it too unimportant to replace. Even James found better things to spend money on, and he doubted the original manufacturer of the door's motor hadn't gone up in a radioactive fireball during the Succession Wars, anyway.

Such thoughts left his head then as James finished opening the hatch and slipped through, followed by his wife. The bridge, he noted, was quieter than normal, and alarms sounded in his head when he saw Mei Nguyen turn and give him a worried look. “Okay, what's exploded now?” He asked, half joking.

The lack of any response to his mirth startled James, and he frowned as the captain he'd hired to command the dropship waved to the bridge's navigation plots. “Well, we're here, but there's a problem. Again.”

“Mei, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” James asked, and then sighed. “What's the issue?”

“Come look at the map we're compiling,” Nguyen said and then gently pushed herself through the air towards the console she indicated earlier.

James and Rebecca shared a look, but both turned and followed the captain, waving quiet greetings to the other bridge crew on the way. “Why are you compiling a map?” James asked once they reached the navigation station. “I'd have thought that every ship in known space has a map of Terra just out of tradition.”

“I have no idea if that's true of every ship, but we do because you're a history nut,” Mei said, allowing herself a brief smirk of amusement, though it died quickly enough. “So imagine our surprise when we see this,” she said, and then waved to a map being displayed on the console's primary MFD.

Both James and Rebecca craned their necks and examined the indicated map, though it only took a few seconds for them to realize the problem. “That doesn't look right,” James said, feeling a vague sense of unease. “That doesn't look right at all.”

“Are you sure there's not a problem with the computers?” Rebecca asked, looking over at Nguyen.

The ship's captain shook her head gently and then reached out and pressed a control. Instantly the portions of the map that had been completed were replaced by a collage of visual images. “We're using photography and radar returns to create the maps, Rebecca. You can see that the computers are dead on. It's Terra that seems to have the problem.”

“Where are the cities?” James asked, finally pegging the source of his mental discomfort. “Terra has twelve billion souls on it, there should be urban areas stretching for thousands of square kilometers. The arcologies alone should be visible from space with the naked eye.”

“Jim, if I knew that I'd tell you, but I have no idea,” Nguyen said. “Nothing here adds up right. All the star charts say we are where we're supposed to be, the primary has the right spectral lines, we've found every planet of note, even dwarf planets like Ceres and Pluto, but this...” She shook her head again. “I feel like we've stepped through the looking glass.”
James blinked at that, and he turned his gaze upward, away from the console and out through the ring of reinforced ferroglass windows that circled the entirety of the bridge. The strange world filled a massive arc of the sky, and he let his eyes trace over cloud formations while his mind churned. “What if you're right, Mei?” James asked. “What if we did step through the looking glass?”

“And escape into wonderland?” Rebecca asked, sounding skeptical.

“Maybe,” James said, returning his gaze back to the two women he floated by. “Or somewhere else. Somewhen else.”

“Please don't tell me you're one of those types who thinks they can use a jump drive to time travel?” Nguyen asked in frustration.

“Mei, you know how wonky time gets around K-F fields,” James countered. “That's how Kearny and Fuchida discovered the things in the first place.”

“Maybe so, but many have tried and failed to work out any meaningful math to support the idea,” Nguyen protested. “Besides, I told you the star charts matched up, which they wouldn't do so well if we moved an appreciable distance through time. Even accepting the possibility – which for the record I don't - the positions we see mean we couldn't be more than a century off.”

“Not nearly enough time to have this sort of change,” James agreed with a nod. “But tell me, did you ever read a rather infamous 20th century philosopher/author called Robert Heinlein?”

“Jim, please,” Rebecca interjected as she knew where her husband was heading. “Pantheistic Solipsism was just a story idea he used to justify going meta on his own characters.”

“Maybe so,” James conceded. “But maybe not. Not everything of his survived until today. But that's beside my point.”

“Which is?” Nguyen asked, her tone and expression showing that she was completely lost.

James took a moment to think before he replied. “What if the universe is actually a multiverse? An infinite procession of various realities where history, and even physics turned out different? And more importantly, what if those universes are created and altered by people in other universes; their authors?”

Nguyen just stared at the mercenary mechwarrior for a few moments before she sighed. “Rebecca, you really need to cut down on his alcohol intake.”

“I haven't touched a drop since we lifted off from Bluford,” James protested.

“Caffeine, then,” Nguyen crossly added. “Because it sounds like you're suggesting that there are not only multiple realities, but that those realities are in fact under the control of otherwise powerless authors and writers. Frankly, that doesn't make sense.”

“The universe doesn't make sense, Mei,” James insisted.

“Only to you, dear,” Rebecca said, reaching to pat a hand on her husband's arm so he understood she was only joking about his unique views, not sniping at him. “But I have to admit, the idea of a different universe, whatever its origin, sounds pretty good right now,” she added and then waved to the navigation console, which was constantly updating the map as the ship orbited. “It would explain this mystery.”

Nguyen rolled her eyes, but otherwise remained silent, as she had nothing to counter that. Finally, though she turned and looked over the navigation console and shrugged. “All I know is that this world is not nearly as heavily industrialized as any long-settled world should be. There seem to be road networks, but most of them are unpaved. Nor have we seen any rail-” The captain abruptly stopped speaking as a new picture was laid out, and she blushed slightly. “Well, that teaches me to open my big mouth.”

Both McKennas returned their attention to the photographic map, and Rebecca was the first to notice the new area. “Railroads, paved highways, decently sized cities. It looks like an oasis of civilization.”

“Bar one spot,” James growled, surprising both women. Then he pointed at a particular point, and his sudden mood shift became clear as they saw one of the cities emitting clouds of smoke. “Any guesses on where O'Connell landed and what he's doing?”

“That slime-sucking spawn of an Amaris,” Rebecca spat out. “I can't believe he crossed that line.”

“I can,” James said. “Because if what I supposed is true, then this isn't quite our Terra, and O'Connell saw that when he landed. So he doesn't have to worry about the Inner Sphere condemning him because they aren't here to see him go bandit king.”

“If what you supposed is true I'll eat my hat,” Nguyen interjected. Then she shook her head again and sighed. “But if it is and I don't choke on the fabric, what can we do?”

“What we're good at,” James replied. He said nothing more as he punched in a command to the console and brought up the data the Heart of Steel's radar returns. “Looks like O'Connell hasn't deployed anything outside that city yet. Not permanently anyway. Mei, shape orbit and land over here,” he added, pointing to a forest just west of a town some distance away from the burning city. “It's time we got out and stretched our legs.”

Royal Palace
Canterlot, Equestria
September 15th 1023 RC

The form on the bed breathed arduously, as if straining against its own weight. Princess Luna felt her own chest ache as if she herself had been stabbed, just as it did every time she looked in on her sister. Celestia, why did thou have to run out so foalishly? The midnight blue alicorn thought mournfully as she watched unicorn nurses work to change the bandages that covered almost every inch of the her sister's body. The sight was disturbing, even after a week of seeing it done twice a day, but Luna kept herself from flinching at the horrible wreck her sister had become. Only the nature of thy magic hast kept you alive, and heals thee yet. But how long must thy rest so? How long will thou remain unconscious and dead to the world while Equestria suffers?

Luna waited until the procedure was almost over before she finally turned and silently trod from her sister's bedchamber. The past week had not been easy, and her difficulties only mounted as time went on. The invaders had taken most of Manehattan, and though general Stonewall continued to try and find ways to interfere with them, his militia hadn't really stopped the great war machines. An army had been called up, of course, but it would be months before the ancient art of war could be unearthed from dusty tomes and brought back to a world that had long thought it rendered obsolete. And even then, the tactics within those old tomes were considered old before I turned against my sister, Luna thought, feeling another pang of regret and sorrow at the memory of her past transgressions. Equestria alone has advanced so far in a thousand years, and these invaders have gone further than that. Dare I send an army so equipped to face such an implacable foe? She paused in her trek and then shook her head. I would be sending them to death most assured. And for nothing, for they would be mowed down as hay without achieving victory.

So deep the princess was in her reverie that she did not notice a pony approach her before a throat clearing gained her attention. Luna blinked herself back to the present and turned to see that a particular cyan pegasus had joined her. “Rainbow Dash, how fares thy wounds?” Luna asked, genuinely concerned for the pegasus who had likely saved her sister's life.

For her part, Dash shrugged, and then winced as the movement jostled the bandages on her back. “They're better than they were, princess,” Rainbow said, and then turned her head so she could look at them herself. “It hurts much less, anyway,” she added, and then sucked in a bit of breath as she saw the nurses leaving Celestia's bedchamber down the hall. “Not that I'm complaining.”

“I wouldst not blame thee if thy had,” Luna said evenly. “But I appreciate thy sentiment.”

Rainbow Dash blushed as she turned back to the night princess. “Thanks,” she said, and then paused for a moment. “I actually came to see how, uh... well...”

Luna nodded as the pegasus' voice trailed off. “My sister recovers, albeit slowly,” the alicorn said, and then turned to continue on her way while nodding for Rainbow to follow. “The advances in medicine Equestria has made astound me, yet I fear it pales in the face of the weapons our foes wield.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash agreed, and then snorted and stomped a hoof as she moved alongside the princess. “If only we had stuff like that, then I'd show those killers a thing or two.”

Luna winced mentally at Dash's words, and she felt a wave of sadness at the loss of innocence her ponies were experiencing. “Thou should be careful in thy wishing,” the night princess said. “I once had such desires, and they bought me a thousand years of exile.”

Dash blushed at the admonition, and she nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, I can see that. But your majesty,” she went on, her tone becoming more insistent, “we need something. We can't fight them with the stuff we got now.”

“So I hath surmised,” Luna said, and then sighed. “Unfortunately, the most learned ponies of the land are still at a loss to describe what forces were at work, save the weapon that-” Luna hesitated then as her emotions overwhelmed her a bit. “That felled my sister. Professor Möbius Strip has stated that Celestia's wounds were caused by light of tremendous power and focus the likes of which does not exist in nature. He believes it is something called “coherent light,” though for the life of me I cannot fathom what he means by that.” Luna shook her head at that. “He seemed rather excited before he ran off. I have not heard from him since, and I wonder if that is not a good thing.”

Dash remained quiet as the princess spoke as she didn't understand much about how the invaders' weapons worked. As Luna went on, though, Rainbow realized that the princess was venting some of her worries, and the cyan pegasus felt a bit of relief herself knowing that she was helping out in some way.

“...And thou should not even begin to ask me what to do about the army,” Luna was saying. “The only pony with any experience is Stonewall, and he has refused to leave Manehattan. Of course, I have not sent a direct order and I feel he wouldst obey such, but I do not think I have the heart to order him back when he has made it clear he wishes to remain at the front with his militia.” The alicorn took in a breath to continue, but then suddenly froze in her tracks.

Rainbow Dash walked forward a few paces before she realized what had happened, and she turned to face the princess. “Luna?” She asked, having been told to be informal by the princesses in the past. “Are you okay?”

“No, I fear not,” Luna replied, blinking several times as if dispelling an image. She then looked directly at Dash, and the pegasus felt somewhat intimidated as the alicorn gave a look that demanded utter obedience. “Thou must make haste to find Twilight Sparkle and return to Ponyville to rejoin thy friends that hath already gone.”

“Yes ma'am,” Dash said, and she leaped into the air. She paused then, and looked down at the princess. “Uh, can I ask why?”

“Thou may,” Luna replied. “Another of the invaders' ships is moving to make landfall in the Everfree Forest near Ponyville. Thou must warn the town and take measures to defend it, if possible. I will send as much of the army as I can.”

Rainbow Dash felt a weight form in her chest at the idea of facing more of those terrible machines, but she nodded as her loyalty overrode her concerns. “I'll get Twilight and then we'll be gone,” she said, and then left in a rainbow-colored blur.

DropShip Heart of Steel
Landing Approach, Everfree Forest
September 16th

James McKenna sedately climbed up the rungs of the rope ladder that spilled from the back of his personal BattleMech, moving easily despite the usual rumbling and shaking that any landing caused in the belly of the 3,600 tonne DropShip. After nearly three decades in the mercenary business, however, it was almost relaxing to feel and James took some comfort in the familiarity amidst what was looked like an excursion into the unknown. Strange new worlds, unknown civilizations, wasn't there an old 2D show about that once? The mechwarrior mused as he finished climbing up the 'mech and slipped through the access door on the back of the head. He sealed it shut behind him before moving to drop into the command couch and beginning the laborious tasks that were required of a pilot who wanted to command the pinnacle of modern warfare. James had already stripped down to shorts and donned a cooling vest outside, and now he moved with practiced ease as he attached the medical monitoring sensors to his upper arms and legs and plugged them in along with his vest. Next he withdrew the old-fashioned neurohelmet and set the eight kilogram monstrosity over his head and shoulders. One of these days I'm going to get one of those new lightweight helmets, he promised himself as he made sure the device was seated properly before attaching it to his cooling vest with velcro straps. Preferably before this one ruins my neck.

Now finished with plugging himself into the machine, James quickly fastened the extensive restraining harness that would keep him secured in the command couch. Once done, he leaned over and stressed his arm slightly as he lifted up a hefty red bar on the 'Mech's extensive control panel and locked it into position. Below, a new rumble joined with that of the Steel's engines as the fusion power plant at the heart of the war machine surged from standby into full life. Power flooded through the machine and the command console lit up. “Please state your name,” a computer synthesized voice requested.

“James Isaac McKenna,” James said, smirking once again at the joke his father had played over forty years ago.

“Voiceprint confirmed. Please state your security code.”

BattleMechs were, of course, insanely expensive machines on top of being ridiculously powerful, and so naturally no one with any sense wanted them easy to steal. Voiceprints were a good check, but advanced sound reproduction technology could bypass them, and so every mechwarrior entered his or her own personal code to ensure that their war machine couldn't be piloted by unauthorized persons. Since these codes were often spoken just before a battle, most warriors preferred to use something inspiring.

Thus James sat back and recited his own code from memory. “Honor is a thin cloak against the chill of the grave,” he recited, quoting the current Coordinator of the Draconis Combine. “But Duty is a blanket that will keep you warm in the coldest hells.” The second part was his own contribution, and he found it fitting enough.

“Authorization confirmed. Releasing full control. Welcome back, commander.”

James smiled a bit as he reached out his arms to the usual position he took. “Glad to be back,” he said to no one at all. “Just one more thing,” he muttered, and then reached out to press a button on the left side of his command console. The cockpit was instantly filled with a cacophony that some would describe as painful, but James had long ago grown accustomed to listening to Metal.

The mechwarrior reached over and worked the communications sub-console to tap into the sensor feed that Nguyen had promised, and James was satisfied to see exterior images pop up on a secondary MFD. He looked over the prospective landing zone for a moment before he triggered his radio, which incidentally also triggered a command line that made the music pause so he could be heard clearly. “This is Dark Horse Actual to all Dark Horses, sound off.”

“Two standing by,” his wife said immediately.

“Three ready,” Schneider piped in.

“Four standing by.”

“Five standing by.”

“Six ready to rock.”

“Seven here.”

“Eight waiting to go.”

“Nine ready.”

“IVAN READY!” The last voice shouted, and James winced at the volume.

“Ivan, your callsign is Blackfoot One,” the mercenary commander admonished.

“Is silly name,” the gregarious man replied in his accented English. “Ivan's feet all clean, at least until we squish bad guys.”

James sighed then, but he couldn't help but smile at the antics of the man who led the Dark Horse's tiny but significant battle armor contingent. “Ivan,” he said, letting his exasperation travel over the radio.

“Blackfoots ready,” Ivan replied, knowing when to stop pushing his commander.

“Good,” James said. “Alright people, we won't have air cover right now so I want you to stay frosty. Dorian,” he added, addressing Dark Horse Four. “You've got the heaviest 'mech here, so you go out first.”

“Ablative point man duty, gotcha,” the pilot of the company's Atlas responded, in typical dark humor.

“Hermes, you've got the Beagle, so you go out next and look for anything hidden,” James continued. “If either of you are fired upon, you are free to return it, but I want you back aboard the Steel ASAP unless I tell you otherwise.

“Copy that, One,” Schneider replied. Dorian replied in the affirmative as well, and James nodded to himself.

“If we encounter no immediate hostiles and the BAP reads clear, we will deploy as follows: myself, two, six, eight, five, seven, and nine. Blackfoot – that's you, Ivan – will come out last and hitch a ride on Three. After that we play this by ear, so keep your eyes peeled and be ready for anything.”

Hooffalls echoed loudly in the Everfree Forest, or so it seemed to Twilight Sparkle as the sound bounced off of the tightly-packed trees on either side of the path to the princesses' old castle. Yet compared to the noise that had just cut off ahead of the group of earth and unicorn ponies it seemed minute and insignificant, as if underscoring the lavender unicorn's fears and bringing them into stark relief. Great, I'm mixing metaphors now, Twilight thought in a spurt of irreverence. Rainbow Dash said that Luna wanted us to defend the town, but I have no idea on how to do that. She glanced to her side where she saw her friends Applejack and Pinkie Pie running alongside her, both carrying rope, as were the ponies behind them she knew. At least AJ had one, though I question how well it'll work.

Still, we have to try, Twilight resolved mentally, remembering back to the pegasi's charge. We owe it to them to try, she thought, feeling some of her mental burden lifting. Amazing what a little focus can do.

A multicolored figure dropped through the canopy above just then, and the group halted as Rainbow Dash hovered in their path. “They landed, all right,” the cyan-coated pegasus reported. “In the clearing by the river where we met that serpent.”

Twilight nodded at that, and then turned herself around to look over the volunteers who had come for the trip. “Okay everypony, we need to split into three groups. Applejack and I will lead two that will tie the ropes to the trees across the path from one another. Pinkie Pie and Lyra, you two will carry the rope ends back and forth so we can finish the trap.” Such as it is, Twilight Sparkle thought, knowing that they had slim chances at actually being effective. But again, we have to try something. “Let's be quiet and move carefully, okay? There are other things in here besides invaders.”

She received nods from all the ponies, save Pinkie Pie who bounced up and down. “Ooh! I bet they'll have a fun time trying to untie the knots!” She said.

“Who?” Applejack asked.

“Why, the new guys of course!” Pinkie replied, suddenly exasperated. “I told you girls, my tail was twitching then my back hooves itched and then I had a whole body convulsion while my tongue flopped out and my eyesight blacked out! That means new friends are dropping by unannounced from the sky!”

Everypony in the group simply stared at the pink party pony in perpetually pensive poses, before Twilight spoke up. “Pinkie, I know your feelings are unique and all, but are you sure that wasn't some kind of seizure?”

“Food poisoning?” Applejack kicked in.

“Fell on your head?” Rainbow Dash asked, and then looked surprised when the other ponies save Pinkie shot her dirty looks. “What? We were all thinking it.”

“No, no, and nope!” Pinkie replied, her attitude still very much positive. “You'll see!” She said, and then started bounding off down the road again.

“Pinkie, wait up!” Twilight shouted as she and the other ponies followed. Despite the few short seconds Pinkie Pie had as an advantage she was already well ahead of them, and both Twilight and Applejack pushed themselves hard and fast to catch up.

“Pinkie, y'all need to stop this foalishness,” Applejack insisted as she pulled aside her friend. “You know what them big uglies do to poines!”

Sadly, this didn't seem to sink into the pink pony's head, and she continued on while humming a song to herself. Her friends, including Rainbow Dash who'd caught up on hoof since it still hurt a bit to fly, tried reasoning with her as they ran ahead of the others, but nothing seemed to penetrate through to Pinkie's mind.

Then suddenly, Applejack dug her hooves in and grabbed Dash's tail with her teeth to drag them both to a complete stop. “Wait, that turn goes into the open!” The orange earth pony shouted to Pinkie and Twilight once she dropped Rainbow's tail.

Twilight heard the warning, but she had been so involved in trying to lecture Pinkie that her mind took a few precious seconds to comprehend it, and by then the sudden burst of sunlight in her face further confounded her. Thus when she finally stopped and opened her eyes, she was staring at a scene that was eerily familiar: a large, spheroid craft with its side opened and two massive war machines standing nearby. “Oh, haystacks and horse apples,” the unicorn muttered as fear rooted her in place.

Johannes Schneider gently throttled his Firestarter omnimech forward, careful to keep the 45-ton design from running into anything as he followed Dorian out of the Heart of Steel's mechbay. We only have the one Omni, might as well keep it in good condition, he told himself, slightly amused at the wry words. The truth was he was a bit flattered at being trusted with an omnimech, given how rare and expensive they still were. True, it's only a Firestarter, a first-gen omni that's only slightly more useful than the original, but it's still better than most mercs get. That was a running motif in the Dark Horse, he noticed; better equipment than was usual, sometimes greatly so.

“Hermes” stopped the train of thought briefly as his 'mech emerged into sunlight, and he carefully scanned the immediate area with his eyes. Upon seeing nothing visually, he continued piloting the Firestarter until he was standing on the ground just beyond the access ramp. Dorian's Atlas stood a mere thirty meters away, its 15-meter-tall bulk and death's head cockpit easily one of the most imposing sights Schneider had ever seen. Ah well, I can look at ugly things back home, he mused as he stopped his 'mech and switched his attention to the controls of the pod-mounted Beagle Active Probe. The bulky, heavy suite of sensors powered up quickly and soon began its ultra-thorough scan of the surrounding area, and Schneider watched with professional discipline as it reported its findings.

Interesting, he thought before opening his radio up. “Dark Horse One, I have no mechanized forces on scope within scanning range. However I am picking up multiple light impacts and heavy breathing coming from the east-northeast. Computer suggests quadrupeds, possibly domesticated, heading on a direct course for our location.”

Back aboard his 'mech in the Heart of Steel's mechbay, James shook his head. Sometimes those BAPs frighten me, he thought with only a little trepidation. “I'm sure the locals aren't too blind to see a fusion-powered ship landing nearby,” the mercenary commander wryly observed. “Weapons condition yellow, repeat weapons condition yellow.”

“Yes sir,” Schneider replied, understanding the code that he wasn't to open fire first, and even then only return fire if he felt he was under a serious threat. “Shall I talk to them when they get here?”

“By all means,” James replied with a chuckle. “Let's see that New Avalon accent put to good use.”

Schneider wanted to roll his eyes at the overused joke, but didn't bother as the elder McKenna wouldn't see it. Instead he moved his 'mech a few meters forward and stopped just beyond the Atlas, intending to present the very slightly less imposing visage of his 'mech first.

Scarcely had he finished the maneuver when two figures ran into sight, and then abruptly stopped. Schneider blinked several times as his brain at first refused to process the sight. He then used his HUD's zoom feature to bring a close-up picture into view, but again found his mind boggling. “Uh, commander?”

“Yeah, I see it,” James' voice sounded over the radio. “Alright, who's the wise guy who dosed the med sensors with LSD?”

“That's not funny, Jim,” the commander's wife interjected. “Besides, doesn't this fit your theory?”

“You must want to die alone, dear, 'cuz you're driving me to an early grave,” James grumbled. “Hermes, move off to cover the river. Dorian, stay still and guard the bay, we're coming out. Everyone else, if I see you fire without orders I will skin you myself, understood?”

“Yes sir!” The chorus came back as the unit began to move.

Twilight Sparkle had only felt such panic twice before. Once was only a week in the past, facing terrible machines such as these. The other was some months ago when she thought she was going to be 'tardy' with a friendship report. Oh how frivolous that seems now, the lavender unicorn thought as she watched the mottled machine turn from her and stalk off towards the river. Before she could feel relief, though, the ground began to shake, and more of the massive machines stepped out of their transport, passing the largest, ugliest one before lining up between the ship and the two ponies in the open.

Two ponies, Twilight's mind remembered, and she managed to tear her gaze away from the machines to see Pinkie Pie standing casually, almost disinterested in the sight before them. What, is, wrong with that pony? Twilight raged inside her mind.

The machines finally came to a halt, and the tableau fell silent for a few moments before new figures, much smaller than the giant machines, ambled their way out of the spheroid ship. They looked about as tall as the so-called 'humans' that Stonewall's reports spoke off when they came out of their machines, but these figures looked as if they were still clad in machinery. Suddenly, Twilight's mind clicked and she realized these figures were wearing armor. Scientifically advanced armor, but armor nonetheless.

As she processed this information the figures advanced slowly, moving to a stop in front of the machine in the middle of the line. Scarcely had they done so when Pinkie Pie suddenly trotted forward in a relaxed manner.

Twilight Sparkle snapped out of her fugue at that. “Pinkie!” She tried to yell and whisper at the same time. “Don't!”

Her friend either didn't hear, or ignored the unicorn. Instead, Pinkie trotted up to the tallest of the armor-clad figures, who seemed to look back in dispassion. “Hiya!” Pinkie said, cheerful as usual. “Do you like cupcakes?”

She did not ask that, Twilight thought, as her brain tried to refuse the situation on the grounds that it was impossible.

It did not help when the figure, after a pause, spoke loudly. “Ivan LOVES cupcakes!” He said, spreading his arms a bit in a welcoming gesture.

“Ooh what's your favorite mines pink or is that a flavor I think it's actually strawberries or cotton candy or some mix of the two and maybe blueberries but I don't know because I'm usually not allowed to touch the blueberries since I stained the side of Sugarcube Corner that one time but I say if you wanted oatmeal flavor you should have said so but seriously, oatmeal?” Pinkie Pie's rapid-fire rant rolled over the scene, and Twilight once again felt her brain trying to shut out the world so it could protect itself.

The armored figure tossed his head back and laughed heartily. “Ivan loves all cupcakes! You make some, Ivan eats! Ivan eat ten bushels once then go punch Clanner in face!” This last part was emphasized by punching one metal-clad fist into the palm of the other. “We must go have cupcakes soon little pink lady!”

“Okie doki Loki!” Pinkie Pie said. “How do you feel about waffles?”

James opened the clear viewplate on the front of his neurohelmet and reached through it to rub his face. “Dear God, there are two of them now,” he muttered as the pink thing and Ivan conversed in a manner best not recorded by sane men.

He must have left his radio on, for his wife answered him. “It's worse than that, Jim. She's weapons-grade adorable. I think my pancreas is shutting down just watching her.”

“Isn't there a rule in the Ares Conventions about not weaponizing pure cuteness?” Came the snarky voice of Dark Horse Six, Earl Delacroix.

“I think it's more of an instinctual survival mechanism,” Dorian Carmine replied from the Atlas. “Humans just know not to go down that dark path, lest the whole race succumbs to the heart-attack inducing power of cute.”

“I should dock everyone's pay for the enjoyment you're getting out of my suffering,” James grumbled. He closed his neurohelmet up again and then swept the area with his eyes, once again spotting the purple horse thing still riveted in place. With skill born of long practice, he manipulated the controls of his Highlander so he could smoothly and slowly bring up its left arm and point at the purple pony with a single metal finger on the hand actuator. “For the love of all that is holy, please tell me you're not insane,” he said after triggering the 'mech's external speakers.

The horse thing startled, but didn't move. “I, uh, no?” She said, sounding frightened.

“Good, that makes one of us, at least,” James replied as he brought the 'mech's hand down. “I know I must sound imposing and I'm sure you're scared silly looking up at this thing, but I've had a lousy month so far, and I would really appreciate it if you could do me a favor and tell us where we are, who and what you are, and where can we get some helium?”

“H-helium?” The purple thing hesitantly asked.

“Yes, helium,” James replied, his voice growing sardonic. “Two protons, two neutrons, two electrons, one of the "noble" gasses, good supercoolant and makes your voice high-pitched at parties?”

“Parties?” The pink think by Ivan shouted, suddenly interested in the conversation between James and the purple one. “I love parties! Hey! You guys should totally come to Ponyville and have a party with us! I know everypony isn't in the mood for fun but maybe a good party is all they need to get shaking their hoove thang and dance dance dance the night away while we eat cupcakes and muffins and biscuits and cookies and regular cakes and danish and I wonder why they call it danish if it's not from-”

“Pinkie!” The purple thing shouted, cutting off her companion. She then wearily turned her head to look up at the head of James' Highlander again. “Why do you want helium?”

“One of our ships was damaged,” James replied. “It lost a lot of liquid helium, and we need to replace it before we can leave.”

“Is that... the only reason you're here?” The purple thing asked while taking a step back.

James heard the wariness in her voice, and he felt his eyes narrow. “What did he do?”

The purple thing – didn't the pink one say they were ponies? Looks about right, James thought – stood still for a moment before she spoke. “You mean O'Connell?”

“Yes,” James growled out. “We saw the smoke from space. We know he landed in one of your cities. What we don't know is what has he done since then?”

She hesitated again, still unsure, still afraid, and James wondered how much was from his own intimidating, or how much was from O'Connell's arrogance. Finally, the creature shook her head and spoke. “He... He and his soldiers, they killed a lot of ponies. They're burning and stealing everything of value in Manehattan and killing anypony who gets in his way. And he's threatened to come after the rest of us.”

“What's with all the pony words?” “Did she say Manehattan?” “My God that's the most heartbreaking face ever.” The voices of his company spilled over James' radio, but fortunately weren't picked up by his microphone and relayed outside. He was about to switch over and yell for silence when his wife came on the line and verbally berated them far more acutely than he would have managed. After the radio fell silent, James took a few minutes to think.

Twilight Sparkle stood there, still frightened of the strangers in front of her, but she no longer felt terrified. Where O'Connell had demanded and reacted violently, this person had conversed with her, albeit with a bit of strain, but he at least kept it civil. At least until we spoke of O'Connell, the lavender unicorn remembered the sudden change in tone. Like Celestia was back in Manehattan, he's mad. Is that good or bad?

After a moment, the male's voice sounded again. “Do you have any coins on you?” He asked, suddenly.

Twilight blinked, startled at the offhand request and not a little reminded of O'Connell's demands. Before she could say anything to it, though, Pinkie Pie ran towards the machine the leader rode in. “I've got some!” She shouted happily, before turning her head and – somehow - reached into her mane with her mouth to withdraw a small coin purse. In one smooth motion, Pinkie whipped her head up and sent the bag flying high into the air.

The machine Twilight faced moved its left arm again, the unreal smoothness of its movement a stark contrast to O'Connell's machines. The hand opened into a palm and slipped under the coin purse as the bag began its downward arc, catching it easily.

“Congratulations,” the leader's voice said. “You've just hired McKenna's Dark Horse Brigade.”

Chapter 6 - Information is Ammunition

View Online

Occupied Zone
Manehattan, Equestria
September 15th

O'Connell walked alone outside the Red Skye, taking his habitual morning walk - whenever he was planetside – and using the time to think about the past week. He had done this every day since the landing, though as time passed and the emotions of the moment passed away he found his thoughts clearing on the subject.

In retrospect, he figured that his choice of landing zones was a mistake. A city was fine and good to acquire wealth and resources, and they had indeed found wealth. The creatures who lived here had access to gold, so much so that they still used it to mint coins. Hitting every bank they could find had netted the Desperadoes fantastical amounts of gold-alloy coins, and though it wasn't Germanium, it would do.

I made a mistake, though, the mercenary commander thought as he strode past a Phoenix Hawk standing guard duty. I assumed a level of technology that isn't present, and I had no proof of. Imagine, asking savages with a class B tech level for Germanium? I might as well ask a troglodyte for a trebuchet.

Still, the locals' level of technology wasn't entirely barbaric. Basic electronics and canned food had been recovered, though the former was laughably simple while the latter consisted of entirely vegetarian meals. Questioning of captured locals had confirmed that they didn't eat meat, and the mere act of asking them about it made several come close to vomiting. However, they apparently had farms with cows and pigs in the countryside, apparently just for the company of those animals. O'Connell was considering a small raid to nab some of the livestock, but he was more concerned with the lack of response from whatever passed for a power structure on this world.

That thing said it was a princess, O'Connell mused, remembering back to the initial confrontation. So a feudal society? Did we take out their leader and now they can't function, or are they too busy infighting to come after us? His concern wasn't unwarranted, as despite the one-sided nature of the first battle all of his battalion's mechs had suffered significant armor damage, and several had to be dug up and repaired from their impromptu burying. The air attack alone had nearly crippled several of his light 'mechs and the continuing insurgent resistance, while minor, was still something that waylaid their repairs and movements in the city.

O'Connell knew that another confrontation was coming, and more to the point, he was becoming aware of just how truly necessary it would be to win that battle, and the next, and so on until he had the locals under his thumb. In retrospect, I should have called off the attack as soon as I saw they weren't human, Garth thought morosely. I was stupid, starting a war on a planet with non-humans, who don't have the tech base to support our machines. We only have so many spares and replacement armor, only so much ammunition. Now we either have to crush the locals so completely that even scrapping half our 'mechs for parts – if it comes to that – won't hurt our position, or we have to find a way to get away from here and start dirt farming, because without our tech edge these things outnumber us too much even with our better equipment and tactics.

So his thoughts went as he circled around the park that had become the battalion's bivouac. No mechwarrior ever liked sitting aboard a ship, doubly so when it was parked on the ground, and even memories of the alien leader's fantastic earthquake hadn't stopped his men from camping out, albeit rather close to the openings to the Red Skye's 'mechbays.

And that's another thing, O'Connell thought. How did she do that? How do they fly? I've seen them use stuff that would be called "magic" by lesser men. The odd nature of the world he found him and his unit in was worrying, more so what the natives could do if they started wising up and using their abilities intelligently. So far they don't seem to grasp the idea of attacking an enemy's weak points. That will change; intelligent life always adapts.

Then, of course, there was McKenna and his troupe coming in with the JumpShip and a Mule-class cargo ship owned by the company whose employ the Desperadoes had recently left. Again, the civvies won't do anything, but McKenna... O'Connell had heard things about the obscure Dark Horse Brigade, and his second in command had done some digging while they shared garrison duty on Bluford. Covert ops specialists, deal in the sorts of dirty, suicidal raids that even the Successor States won't spend their troops on. And he's done it for almost thirty years. And he's profited off of it and used those profits to buy the best equipment he can find. All of these facts spoke of him being a superb commander, a man capable of being either a valuable ally or a fierce enemy. If he were loose enough in his morality, he'd be a great help in pacifying these miniature mutant horses, O'Connell thought, and then sighed as he turned back to head for the Skye. Unfortunately, the man has a reputation of affecting some sort of stubborn nobility. Gives mercy to his enemies whenever he can, refuses to take jobs that directly target civilians, despite those paying the best. O'Connell had personal knowledge of such jobs from the FedCom Civil War that had concluded only three short years ago. Pity Kat Steiner got the boot. If she were still running things we'd never have been forced to do security work for Foundation Industries.

O'Connell shook his head to return his train of thought back on track. So, McKenna's a stuck-up white knight wannabe who thinks that morals have any place in the modern galaxy. We'll see how he thinks when I've got this place under wraps and his only choice is to either join me and keep his unit safe by helping to keep the locals down, or try to free the little ponies and have them turn on him in hatred for sharing a species with me.

He stopped then, realizing that his musings had lead him to the plan of action he had been searching for since the landing. We've got to take the offensive, the initiative, and hammer the locals into submission. We take their capitol and destroy their will to resist, now, before our 'mechs start falling apart, before our numbers drop to the point where we can't overpower another one of those flying super ponies. Without the distraction of a two-front war, we can concentrate on McKenna's unit if he decides to stay on his high horse.

With this thought, O'Connell turned and scanned the area for a moment before his gaze alighted on the makeshift holding pen that held several of the locals. Most of them were larger males, caught and kept to do the grunt work of clearing up the mess around the Desperadoes' bivouac and the routes out of the city that the mercenaries knew they would eventually need. Several of them had been wearing clothes – clothes! - and seemed knowledgeable, or at least smart enough not to resist orders. O'Connell had thus made sure they were fed and kept away from some of the crueler soldiers in his company, knowing that rewarding obedience was a good way to start with governing from a position of power. He knew of some who would enjoy inflicting pain and suffering for its own sake, but O'Connell never understood that. Oh, don't get me wrong, he thought as he started to casually walk towards the holding pen. I love watching my enemies suffer and burn. But these things aren't good enough to be enemies. They're more like tools, and a smart man doesn't abuse a tool for fun, nor does he throw one away or break it because he's upset.

Still, tools can outlive their usefulness, too, O'Connell mused. But for the moment, these little creatures are certainly more useful alive. I suppose if the situation calls for it, living here for the rest of my life won't be too bad. Just so long as I'm the one on top.

With these thoughts, Garth O'Connell starting framing the new questions he wanted answers to.

Everfree Forest
3km west of Ponyville, Equestria
September 16th

“Hired?” Twilight Sparkle asked, utterly confused at the turn of events. “I... I don't quite understand.”

“Okay,” the voice from the machine said, sounding a bit unsure. “Do you know what a mercenary is?”

Twilight blinked a bit as her mind raced over definitions. “Isn't that an old word that means a soldier who fights for money?”

“Basically,” the voice replied. “A mercenary is a soldier who offers his training and experience in the art of combat in exchange for pay. As opposed to someone who would offer his service to a country out of a feeling of loyalty.”

“So,” Twilight said as she frowned in consternation. “You're mercenaries? And you're saying I hired you?”

“So to speak,” the voice said. “Look, miss, I think it's time to get introduced personally to one another. I'm going to come down and we can talk face to face. That sound good to you?”

“Uhm...” Twilight temporized, and then glanced behind her towards the woods.

“Your friends can come out, of course,” the voice said.

Twilight snapped her head back around. “How did you know?” She asked.

“That can be amongst the things we discuss,” the man in the the war machine suggested. “I understand that you don't have a favorable view of us if O'Connell's done what you say he's done. I understand that you wouldn't want to take me at my word, but that is all I have to offer now; my word that you and your friends will not be harmed.”

The lavender unicorn thought hard and fast, her emotions vacillating between surprise, mistrust, and fear. Then suddenly, a raucous bout of laughter sounded, and she glanced over to see Pinkie Pie and the tall armored figure who called himself Ivan sharing in some amusement. The other five armored beings nearby had no exposed faces, and their odd, two-legged bodies had a different language all their own. Or do they? Twilight thought, and she glanced over at Ivan and studied him as he stopped laughing and resumed talking to Pinkie about the last time he found a good restaurant. As the conversation rapidly and randomly turned to sports equipment, Twilight saw that although the figure had different cues, there were enough similarities to understand some basic expressions. The unicorn's sharp mind processed these quickly and then took another assessment of the other figures with Ivan, and Twilight felt she could vaguely detect unease and mistrust... But also a lack of aggression. They weren't tense, waiting to jump into a fight, merely standing back, trying to stay out of the way.

Twilight suddenly realized she'd been silent for a few moments, and she shook her head slightly before looking up at the machine again. “Yes, I think it would be good to talk. Face to face.”

James was already unbuckled when the answer came in, and he triggered the speakers again. “All right, I'll be right down,” he said and then turned the Highlander's public address system off. A few commands on the console before him rapidly put the 90-ton battlemech into a low-power mode, and he felt the war machine shift a bit as the limbs locked up.

Before he could finish detaching himself, though, a radio call came in on a private frequency. James didn't even bother to look at the communications console to see who it was; he just pressed the accept button. “Yes, my darling wife?”

“Don't you 'darling' me,” Rebecca's voice sounded in his ears, carrying her crossness. “Jim, I know you don't like scumbags. I don't like scumbags. O'Connell's a scumbag. But these things aren't human.”

“Does that matter?” James asked as he started detaching the medical sensors. “The true distinction of a person isn't form, but function, Rebecca.”

“Could you drop the warrior philosopher bullspit for a minute?” His wife snapped. “It was one thing when it looked like we could expect help from the Inner Sphere sometime, but now? Jim, we're stuck on a forsaken rock talking to freakin' ponies in some alternate reality, and you're getting set to put us up against an opfor more than three times our size based on principle?”

James thought for a moment before he replied. “Yeah,” he said, and then sighed. “Yes Rebecca, I am. And you know why.”

Silence met his statement for a long minute. “Some of the boys won't like it,” his wife finally said, her voice low.

“I know,” James said as he finished putting the neurohelmet on its storage shelf. He had switched the radio to cockpit microphones before replying to his wife's earlier question, and he made sure to keep his voice pitched high enough for the pickups to work. “This will be a volunteer job. Tell 'em that while I'm down there speaking to our new "employers".”

“I will,” Rebecca said, and then chuckled. “You've got two volunteers already.”

James smiled a bit despite the fact his wife couldn't see the expression from her Warhammer. “More like three,” he said as he reached for the radio controls. “I think Ivan's close to mentally fusing with the pink one about now.”

His wife's laugh was a pleasant sound to his ears, and James turned off his radio so it would be the last voice he heard until he was on the ground.

Twilight watched the legs and arms of the leader's machine become stiff, and she realized it was locking itself up to stay upright while no one was in control. Such a logical design choice, she thought, and the unicorn realized that this was the first time she had seen any of the curiously powerful war machines up close without being too terrified to observe rationally. The machine she looked at now stood on two legs, just like the pilots who operated them, or so the reports from Manehattan's resistance said. It had two arms similar to other beings that walked on two legs, but while the left did have a hand, the right ended in a large cylinder that had a dark opening at the end, and even Twilight could understand that this was a large, probably powerful weapon. Other openings and ports dotted the blocky chest and rounded arms, and the legs were massively thick for some reason she couldn't fathom at the moment.

Glancing around, Twilight saw that each of the machines was of a different design. Some looked more lifelike than others, but all were designed to intimidate either with aesthetics or with the simple presence that being large and bulky granted them. All of them, though, save the one that had frozen, moved with such fluid motions that the unicorn pony had to marvel at them, despite knowing what they were made to do. How can anypony put so much work, so much effort into designing and building such well-made machines whose purpose is to destroy and kill?

Twilight was disturbed from her thoughts as she saw movement coming from behind the legs of the leader's machine, and soon she saw a figure emerge from behind them. She almost gasped at seeing on the the aliens for the first time, so strikingly different it looked from a pony. As the reports said, it stood on two legs and walked with ease that told of a body designed to utilize such locomotion. Its arms swung almost lazily back and forth, providing a counter-balance to its moving legs, and while the head and torso bobbed up and down, the eyes of the creature bore down on the lavender unicorn with a precision that spoke of fine control.

Looking at the eyes, Twilight found that they looked small and beady when compared to a pony's, but at the same time they fit in with the flat, round face and fixed, side-mounted ears. A patch of short but well kept hair topped the head like a pony's mane, but unlike most ponies she knew Twilight saw that the creature's mane was a simple brown, albeit with streaks of gray running through it.

By now the creature was close, and Twilight found herself struck by the sheer height of the alien. He was easily more than twice her height, when comparing shoulders, and her head barely came up to his belly. Part of the unicorn wanted to back away in fear and caution, and in a moment of weakness she glanced around to assess her chances of escape. While looking around, though, she saw Pinkie Pie still chatting it up with the immensely large figure in the armor, and the ease with which the pink pony related to the creature, plus the way the others in armor gave them a wide berth, made Twilight feel a bit more in control of herself, and she turned back to look up at the alien commander's face. “H-hello,” she said cautiously as the being stopped a few paces from her. “My name is Twilight Sparkle.”

The alien raised an eyebrow at that, and Twilight felt a sense of relief in the confirming incredulous tone in his voice. “Really? That's your name?”

Thank goodness, their mannerisms really are like ours, Twilight thought, and she felt a bit more confident as she nodded. “Yes. Are you surprised at that?”

“A bit,” the figure admitted. “It's just odd considering it sounds more like an adjective or an adverb than a name. But hey, if that's how your people like to name yourselves then I can adjust.”

She felt irked at that for some reason, and Twilight drew herself more upright as she replied. “Well, what sort of name do you have, then?”

“I am James Isaac McKenna VII,” he replied. “I am the commander of the mercenary company you see before you.” At this he turned a bit and swung his arm over the assembled war machines. “We're one of the smaller units you can find, but where we lack quantity we more than make up for it in quality.”

“I'll take your word for it,” Twilight said. “What are you the seventh of?”

James stood still for a moment in thought before he smiled. “The seventh man in my family line to be named James McKenna, of course,” he explained. “Myself and the five preceding are all named after my ancestor, the great James McKenna, who formed the Terran Hegemony out of the ashes of the old Alliance. Of course,” James' smiled turned sheepish and he shrugged. “That doesn't mean anything to you, though.”

“Er, no, it doesn't,” Twilight agreed. “But besides that, do I need to use that full name?”

“I'd prefer you don't,” James replied. “You may call me James, Mister McKenna, or commander McKenna.”

“Ah. Likewise, you may call me Twilight,” the unicorn said.

“Twilight. Nice to meet you,” James said and then held out his right hand.

Twilight stared for a moment at the gesture, surprised at its simultaneous familiarity and strangeness; the latter due to the alien's shape. Still, she reached up and offered her right front hoof towards the hand, and James bent his legs so he could reach out and slowly clasp his fingers around it and shake it. Twilight could feel the strength in the hand and fingers, and she found a bit of admiration in that the being restrained himself to a gentle but firm grip.

The hoof/handshake ended after a respectable amount of time, and James stood up to his full height again. “Now that we're introduced, it's probably time to get to exchanging information about each other,” he offered.

“That sounds reasonable,” Twilight said, still feeling a bit cautious. “But perhaps in a more comfortable setting?”

“A good idea,” James agreed with a nod. “Would you like to retire into our ship?” He asked and waved back at the massive spheroid object sitting on top of a scorch mark in the grass. “Or would you prefer to pick a location? Perhaps somewhere away from my soldiers so you won't feel coerced standing under their guns?”

Twilight felt another run of surprise at that offer, and again she found herself contrasting the entirely different approach these aliens had versus O'Connell and his group. I wonder if he's genuine, or is he merely trying to get my guard down? Twilight thought in silence for a while, but finally she nodded her head. “If you don't mind, I'd prefer we go back to our town. Without your men following, of course.”

“Of course,” James replied with a nod. “Although, as a precaution, I would insist that I be accompanied by two others, and that we retain our personal firearms,” he said, and then patted an oddly-shaped bag or container of some sort attached to his body by a harness. “Trust is a valuable commodity after all, and only a dumb merc gives it away for free.”

The unicorn frowned at the odd word. “What are "firearms"?” She asked.

James blinked at the question. “Your people have ranged weapons, right?” He asked.

“Well, some,” Twilight replied. “Catapults, arrows, I think.” She blushed at that. “It's not really my field of study.”

“I see,” James said, and Twilight suppressed a shiver as the gloomy tone in his voice. “So you don't have something like this?” He slowly and openly reached up to the bag, and then undid a flap on it. Twilight watched him pull out a strangely shaped metal object that was shaped to fit a hand like his own. He laid it out across a palm and lowered the hand so she could see it clearly. Twilight inspected it visually, deciding now was not the time to try and take something from this large creature, and she noted the object was made of several parts that looked like they would move against one another when used. A lever inside a guard positioned right where the hand of a holder would allow a single finger to slip in was the obvious trigger, and the long top of the device ended in another circular hole that marked it as a weapon.

“No,” Twilight finally said, shaking her head a bit as she pulled her mind back from her observations. “We have no weapons like that.”

“Then it's no wonder O'Connell decided to attack,” James said as he returned the device to its holding place. “It's called a firearm, a pistol to be exact. We have different versions now, but the one I carry is based on the original concept of using a small amount of chemical explosives to propel a small piece of metal towards someone you wish to harm.”

“How awful,” Twilight said, feeling a bit uneasy.

“It's no worse than using a bow and arrow,” James replied evenly. “Just more efficient.”

“Why would you want to be more efficient at hurting others?” The unicorn asked in confusion and disgust.

James looked at her for a moment before he shrugged. “That's a long story,” he said. “But the simple matter is, humans like myself are not so strong, individually. We make up for it by fashioning weapons and machines to help us.”

“But to hurt or kill?” Twilight asked, still bewildered. “Why?”

Now the human looked confused. “Don't you have any crime here?” He asked.

“Well, yes,” Twilight answered, blushing a bit at the admission. “Nopony's perfect, so some make mistakes.”

“Yes, nobody is perfect,” James said, and Twilight took note of his version of the all inclusive pronoun. “Where I come from, that means that some people decide that they don't want to behave properly. Worse, they refuse to listen to others, and get violent so they don't have to obey the law, forcing good people to become violent to stop them. Humans are stubborn when we set our minds to something, and that goes for making bad choices as well, so some people escalate the violence up until it becomes kill or be killed.”

Twilight took a step back at that as she felt her fear returning. “You kill each other so readily?” She asked.

James scowled at that. “Sometimes. It's not something most of us want. In fact I'd go so far as to say that ninety-nine point nine percent of humans don't want to kill anyone unless forced into it. But it's that point one percent that ruins it for everyone else.” He paused, and then sighed. “Unfortunately, governments are run by people, too, and that means that wars happen as well for much the same reasons.

“Which is, of course, where mercenaries like my soldiers and I come in,” James added, deciding to try and move the conversation back on track. “No, no one is perfect. But some of us at least try to aim for it. Which is why I'm here, offering my help to correct the wrongs O'Connell's perpetrated. To make up for my imperfections that allowed such terrible things to happen.”

A silence fell between them as Twilight considered the human's words. Part of her simply wanted to reject the human and his words, to turn and run and leave their twisted ideas behind. Yet even as she thought this, her mind went back to the last two years of her life, and she admitted that sometimes it took force to make some ponies to see reason. Never death, though, the other part of her consciousness protested. You never killed anypony. Even of the two worst, you redeemed Nightmare Moon back into Luna, and Discord was simply imprisoned again in stone.

Yet how is that not alike in killing? Twilight fought hard to suppress a shudder as she felt a wave of uncomfortable truth cresting over her mind. Luna became a new pony, Nightmare Moon, the same way any one of us would change over time. She became angry and powerful and wanted to enforce her will on all of us, and we refused, and we fought. Maybe not with physical violence, but we did attack who she had become, and turned back the clock on her personality, essentially destroying the one that called itself Nightmare Moon.

And Discord? He was imprisoned in stone for over a thousand years. And then when he got loose we put him back against his will. Is Celestia ever going to let him go, or will he be forced to spend eternity bound in stone? And if so, how is that any better than death, being unable to do anything? Just sitting there while the world goes by ignoring you... It would be enough to drive a pony mad. Death would almost be a mercy at that point.

Twilight couldn't suppress the shudder this time as her own honesty forced her to admit that ponies weren't exactly perfect either. We don't kill, but destroying a personality to replace it with one we prefer? Eternal imprisonment? Are we any better than O'Connell, willing to do whatever is necessary just to get what we want?

“Twilight?” A voice asked behind her, and the unicorn turned around to see both Applejack and Rainbow Dash cautiously approaching her. “Are you alright, sugarcube?” The orange earth pony asked in concern.

The lavender unicorn paused for a moment, and then nodded. “I am,” she said, and then turned around to face the human again. “I'm sorry, commander,” she said, suddenly feeling that the title alone would suffice for now. “I just needed to think. I suppose you might be just whom we need after all.”

James nodded at her words. “Then I hope my provisos for traveling to your town are acceptable? Just myself and two men, but we must be allowed to at least have our sidearms.”

“Yes, that will be fine,” Twilight agreed with a nod.

“Now wait a minute darlin',” Applejack interjected. “We kinda heard everything from the woods. You sure you want to let some big ugly things like them into Ponyville carrying any sort of weapon?”

“Yeah, how do we know we can trust 'em?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“How can we trust ourselves?” Twilight asked quietly. The confused looks her friends gave her caused the unicorn to shake her head. “I think it's only fair, considering that they're going to be surrounded by ponies. Especially ponies of the new army that the princess is sending and should be there any time now.”

Both of her friends continued to give the lavender unicorn a befuddled look, but after a moment of thought Applejack nodded. “Alright Twi. I hope you know what you're doing.”

“So do I,” Twilight admitted, and then turned to nod to James. “Alright, mister McKenna, we can go whenever you are ready.”

James nodded solemnly to her. “Of course, miss Twilight,” he said, new found respect in his voice. “Just let me and the two men I plan to take with change our clothes into something more fitting and we'll be on our way.”

Chapter 7 - Getting to Know You

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Everfree Forest
2km West of Ponyville. Equestria
September 16th

The procession ponies and humans was quiet as they marched through the forest at a sedate pace, set for the benefit of the latter group. Most of the ponies who had come with Twilight and her friends had gone back ahead of them to carry the news to Ponyville that they would have visitors, leaving only Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, Applejack and Rainbow Dash to match James, Schneider, and the ever-gregarious Ivan, though even the giant of a man felt the need to observe silence.

Nice place, James thought as the group passed through a copse of dense willows. I wonder why the locals are all fidgety though? He knew it wasn't entirely from the presence of the humans, as the worried looks the ponies sometimes cast were always aimed outward, towards the trees lining the path. “Is there something to be worried about?” He asked after finally becoming concerned.

The ponies all started a bit, but they settled down quickly enough, though the blue one with the bandages on her back winced a bit. “Er, maybe,” Twilight admitted as the group resumed their movement. “This is the Everfree Forest, after all.”

“Nice name,” Schneider observed. “Sounds very enchanting.”

“Are y'all crazy?” The orange pony interjected. “It's a dangerous place full of nasty critters and plants that take care of themselves.”

James and Schneider both shared a confused look at that, while Ivan simply started to hum a vague tune to himself. “Yes, that's what plants and animals do,” Schneider added. “If they didn't take care of themselves, who would?”

“Ponies, of course!” Pinkie Pie replied for her friends. “Why in Equestria we take care of all the cute little animals and grow all the plants even the ones that I wouldn't think were useful like roses what's up with them they have thorns and all so they're hard to eat even if the petals are really tasty and make a good flavor for all sorts of baked treats and pancakes too I love a good rose pancake even if daises are cheaper to buy and even oatmeal tastes better with roses but I only tried that once because oatmeal's not my favorite and it doesn't taste as good as peanut butter cupcakes with chocolate cotton candy ooh you should totally try that when you have time!”

The humans wisely waited for Pinkie's rant to wind down before anyone said more. “What do you mean, you take care of the animals?” James asked, hoping to move the conversation away from the outburst.

“Well shoot,” Applejack said. “That's what we do, we take care of the animals and plants in Equestria so that everything runs okay.”

“Applejack's right,” Twilight added. “By working with the plants and animals we can keep nature in a proper balance so that no species is forced to disturb another.”

“You... Control nature?” Schneider asked, frowning.

“Er, not directly,” Twilight replied. “We work with the plants and animals, and control the weather so that nature itself does the rest without causing problems for anypony.”

“You control the weather?” James asked, sounding shocked.3

“Well duh,” Rainbow Dash spoke up, and despite the mild pain of her injuries she flapped her wings and floated in front of the group, drifting backwards at their pace. “If we didn't there'd be all kinds of nasty storms and uncontrolled droughts. How could anypony live like that?”

Again, James and Schneider shared a look, and even Ivan cast a curious eye over their four-legged companions. “We live like that all the time,” James began. “Back home no one has ever developed a way to directly control the weather, just ways to influence the general environment.”

The ponies all stopped for a moment to look back at the tall bipeds following them. “Dash said it best: how in tarnation can y'all live like that?” Applejack asked disbelievingly.

James shrugged as he waved the group to continue. “We construct buildings that keep out wind, rain, snow, sun, and anything else that can cause problems, and make and wear clothes that protect us from the worst the elements can throw at us. And of course, we just adapt, get used to whatever the weather in a spot is like and soon enough that seems normal to us.”

The ponies spared another glance back at the humans, but they continued moving. Twilight felt her interest piqued, however, and she let her pace drop momentarily so she could walk next to the mercenary commander. “How can a people like yours make so many clever things but never get a handle on controlling weather?”

“Well, no one's found a good way to exert control over the innumerable molecules and particulates that form an atmosphere,” Schneider explained. “It would require some kind of mass manipulation that is just plain impossible where we come from.”

“So, you guys can't even control when it rains?” Rainbow asked, and waited until Schneider shook his head. “Pfft, lame.”

“As I said, we adapt,” James countered. “That adaptability is why I can talk to you now even though frankly, a flying blue pegasus is something that I'd normally consider a hallucination.”

Dash opened her mouth to retort but she was cut off by Twilight. “You know Dash is a pegasus?” She asked.

“Well, it was a guess,” James replied with a shrug. “Pegasus was a creature of ancient Greek myth, and he's had a strong influence on symbology and naming for millennia. Only those uneducated in mythology wouldn't recognize a version of it when it's floating in front of you.”

“Really?” Rainbow asked, sounding interested all of a sudden. “What kind of influence did it have?”

James thought for a moment before he replied. “Well, where we come from horses don't talk. No animal talks, actually, except humans, so we used them – horses that is – as a form of transportation, riding on their backs from one place to another. Pegasus was an outgrowth of humans' desire to fly like the birds in the sky, and the idea of being able to ride a winged mount like Pegasus was inspiring. So throughout history the name “Pegasus” has been used to christen anything that is meant to share in that myth's abilities, namely speed and flight.”

“Speed?” Dash asked, drawing closer to the commander. “You mean he was fast?”

“Well, the myth said so,” James added, feeling a bit uncomfortable as the flying pony drifted close enough to his face that her huge eyes and inquisitive expression gave him an impulsive urge to reach out and hug the insufferably cute thing. Fortunately, he restrained himself and shrugged again. “And that's all it really was, a myth. But we did name a lot of fast stuff after it.”

“Yeah, like the first JumpShip that could go further than 15 light-years in a single jump,” Schneider interjected.

“Ivan remember Pegasus Lines,” the two-meter tall man added. “Expensive passenger transports. Get you from Tikonov to Galatea in half the normal time, though.”

James blinked at that, and he turned to give his infantry combat expert a look. “You never told me you were on Galatea?”

“Ivan not like that place,” Ivan replied, his gaze shifting off to the side. “Too many bad men.” His expression suddenly brightened as he turned his sight back to McKenna and slapped the older man on the back. “Not like commander, though! Good man, pays well, doesn't send into fray without backup.”

“Nice to know I'm appreciated,” James replied, amused.

“Getting back to the topic at hand, though,” Schneider began. “How do you control the weather?” He asked, looking pointedly at Rainbow Dash.

The pegasus pony practically preened herself in pride. “It's all in the wings,” she said, flapping hers a bit extra to show them off.

“And the inherent magic that pegasi have,” Twilight interjected, garnering a sour look from her flying filly friend.

“Magic?” Schneider asked, sounding skeptical. “You'll forgive me if I don't find that a good enough answer.”

“Why not?” Rainbow asked, moving to get into the lanky human's face now. “You said yourself you can't do squat to the weather with your toys.”

“Dash!” Twilight interjected. “Remember, they're from a reality where there is no magic. They might find it hard to believe.”

“Indeed,” James added. “Our people used to believe in magic long ago, before we discovered a way to observe the world around us in a rational way. Eventually we learned that "magic" is simply something you don't understand yet. I suppose that would make it a good word to describe any abilities you might have that we cannot replicate.”

“Well, true,” Twilight said. “But in this case it really is magic.”

“Yeah, and Twilight's the absolutely positively the bestest at magic there is!” Pinkie added. “She once put an ursa minor to sleep!”

“A what?” Schneider asked.

“An ursa minor,” Twilight replied. “It's a very large creature, very strong. Fortunately that one was just cranky and needed a nap.”

“I see,” Schneider said, and then took a long look around them. “Should we worry about one attacking us in here?”

“Probably not,” Twilight answered. “They keep to themselves, usually, only really come out when they're bothered from their lairs.”

“Well, that's a relief,” James said. “I try to keep the number of things attempting to kill me down to a short list.”

The humans chuckled at that, and even the ponies joined in after they realized it was a joke. As they settled down, Schneider cleared his throat to speak again. “That does raise the question, though, of how you knew we were from a reality that doesn't have this so-called "magic"?”

“That same “so-called magic”,” Twilight replied, laying a bit of sarcasm on the quoted phrase. “You're not like the other beings here. You're not really connected into the magical energy system, so it makes sense that you lack such a connection where you come from.”

Schneider opened his mouth to speak again, but he refrained when McKenna held up a hand. “I think that's enough, Hermes,” he said, using the other mechwarrior's nickname. “We're talking to pastel ponies, after all, and one of them is flying. I think we can suspend our disbelief just a bit.”

Johannes thought about that for a moment before he sheepishly smiled. “Ah, true Jim. I suppose I'll have to wait to see this "magic" in action.”

“I can show you right now, if you'd like?” Twilight asked. When Schneider nodded, she came to a stop, and the others did as well around her. The lavender unicorn looked around a bit before she saw a branch that had fallen to the forest floor, and she pointed it out with a hoof. “Okay, I'll lift up that branch there and bring it here,” she said, and then narrowed her eyes in concentration. After a moment, her horn lit up with a purple glow, and a matching glow enveloped the branch, which then levitated and flew gently through the air until it hovered in front of Twilight. Satisfied at the demonstration, she released the branch and let it drop the ground.

The humans were silent for a good while as they absorbed the spectacle into their reshaped worldview. Finally though, Ivan took a step forward until he was next to Twilight. “Twilight is good pony,” he said, and then lightly patted her on the head.

“Er, thanks,” the unicorn replied as she sidestepped to avoid the tall human's attentions.

“Alright, you don't see that every day,” Schneider admitted with a bit of admiration in his voice.

“What? You can see Ivan being Ivan any day of the week,” James asked flippantly.

“Amusing, James,” Schneider replied sarcastically. Then he turned to give the ponies with them a fresh look. “If you ponies can do things like that, then how could you not stop O'Connell?” He asked, confused.

The ponies faces darkened as they remembered the recent past. “We didn't fight him,” Rainbow Dash said as she settled down to stand on her hooves. “Princess Celestia did.”

“Just one of you against a whole battalion of 'mechs?” Schneider asked in surprise. “Is she really good, or really stupid?”

“Hey!” Applejack snapped, and then stomped over to stand right in front of the lanky human and shoot him an evil eye that was only slightly less effective due to her lower height. “Th' princess did what she could!”

“Yeah, she fought like crazy!” Dash added. “Just, those things of yours...”

“BattleMechs,” James said. “The walking machines are called BattleMechs.”

“Yeah, those things,” Dash added with an angry look. “They just kept attacking and attacking and she couldn't hold up forever.”

“How long did she last?” Schneider asked.

“About five, maybe ten minutes,” Twilight replied.

“Sweet mother of God,” the lanky human breathed. “A single being up against a full battalion for ten minutes? Did she have any sort of mechanical help?”

“No, just an armor laced with defense spells,” Twilight answered. “They... failed under constant attack.”

“Still!” Schneider exclaimed. “A battalion of BattleMechs has enough firepower to level a city in ten minutes. They could lay waste to a continent of cities in a few days.” He looked down at the unicorn and Twilight was startled to see a bit of awe in his expression. “Your princess must have been a fantastic being.”

“She still is,” Applejack replied. “She lost, but thanks to Dash here she lived.”

Rainbow Dash blushed at the praise, but she didn't let it keep her from joining in. “Yeah, and when she recovers she's going to give that O'Connell guy the buck!”

“Still alive after facing a 'mech battalion and losing?” Schneider asked, his tone rhetorical. He then turned to look over at McKenna. “Commander, are you sure we're needed here?”

“Celestia is rather unique,” Twilight interjected. “She's one of our two ruling princesses. They're both alicorns, having aspects of all three normal pony types and possessing tremendous magic.” Twilight cast her gaze down then as she continued. “She was our best, and she was defeated. I don't know how anypony, even her younger sister Luna, can do any better.”

“I see,” James said after a long, uncomfortable silence. “How about you tell us about that battle as we continue on towards your town?”

Occupied Zone
Manehattan, Equestria
September 16th

Gregory Kilroy stared over the three quadrupeds standing in the tent that had been set up as the Desperadoes' “field office.” Sometimes, Garth, I want to strangle you, he thought wryly as he paced back and forth in front of the three ponies.

His commander had spent some time questioning their labor captives more intensely than the initial interrogations, seeking to erase gaps in their knowledge of this strange world they found themselves on. The Desperadoes' second in command admitted that it had helped to understand just what they had stuck their foot in, and it had assuaged his peace of mind to find out that the creature that had fought them on the first day was almost one-of-a-kind, and certainly the more powerful of the two “royal sisters” that controlled this kingdom. The idea of facing another one - even a younger, less powerful version - did not meet his fancy, but Kilroy was at least confident that the battalion could beat it if necessary and still win.

What had started the irrational urge to choke the life out of O'Connell, though, wasn't related to the super-powered royalty at all. Apparently, one of the males had been far easier to talk to than the others, much to the chagrin and anger of his fellows. It had come to blows between the talker and another of the ponies – I hate using that word, but it's the only one that fits, Kilroy thought – but O'Connell had ended that with a single warning shot. Further questioning had revealed that although most of the locals were happy, there was a small smattering of those who either felt stifled, or controlled, or just simply didn't like they way things were. O'Connell in one of his better moments set the talkative pony free to send him to get word to these underground elements in or even outside of the city and let them know that times were changing, and they could help.

Thus, Kilroy found himself in charge of the first of the locals who had willingly volunteered their services to the invading mercenaries. It figures that we'd get one of each to start, Greg darkly mused as he continued to pace and observe these ponies in quiet scorn. He doubted that they would prove worth his time, but his commander had ordered, and so he would obey. Besides, if Garth's thinking what I'm thinking, then being the second to a king wouldn't be a bad thing, no matter what I have to put up with. Still, I'd rather be going out with that light lance he sent to reconnoiter near the locals' capitol.

Finally, Kilroy made himself stop, and he moved to stand a meter or so away from the short line of locals. “Alright. As you might be able to tell, I'm not particularly happy you're here,” he said, figuring honesty was the proper way to go. “However, my commander, Garth O'Connell, has decided to see if any of you little ponies are worthy to be part of the new order. So despite my misgivings I will do my best to figure out how we can use you.

“So I'll start with you,” he said, looking at the same purple, brown-maned earth pony that had been sent out, only to return willingly. “Tell me your name and what you're good at.”

“I'm called Stronghoof,” the particularly bulky looking pony with a horseshoe cutie mark replied. “Since you're honest with us, I'll be honest with you: I'm not the smartest pony you'll find, but I'm one of the strongest with the best stamina.”

“Doesn't sound like you made a good decision then,” Kilroy observed as he leaned back on his heels a bit. “Strong muscles and backs are good to have, but you'll be doing the same work you were when we were holding you. That doesn't sound like an improvement to me.”

“True, but I'm not that dumb,” Stronghoof said, grinning mischievously. “Unlike you humans, I know what ponies can and can't do, especially when it comes to hard work. I'll also know when they're slacking or trying something sneaky. Put me in charge of those guys you make work for you, and I'll get things done a lot faster.”

Kilroy brought up a hand to his chin and rubbed it as he considered. “Not bad,” he said. “Why work for us, though?”

Stronghoof shrugged. “You took down Celestia. I may not be the smartest, but I can see who's going to be the new bosses around.”

Greg nodded and then thought for a moment longer. “Alright, we'll give that a try,” he said, and then pointed to the entrance to the tent. “Go outside and find the old stockade we had you in. Private Valentine should be standing guard. Tell him I sent you, and that the password for today is Kurita Hotel, so he'll know you're telling the truth. He'll help you keep the others in line while you get them to work leveling that copse of trees for the new runway.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Stronghoof said, and then started to turn to walk away.

Kilroy raised his hand at that, and bade the stallion to halt. “A note: we use military ranks here. You will learn and use them, as they are the proper way to address others. For instance, from now on you call me captain Kilroy, or captain.”

Stronghoof nodded at that. “Yes sir, captain Kilroy,” he said, and after Greg nodded back the pony turned and walked out.

Kilroy next turned to look at the forest green pegasus mare that was next. “And you?”

“I'm Seabreeze,” the pony replied and then tossed her long, dark blue mane. “I'm good at making and using lightning,” she said, shifting her hips a bit to show off her cutie mark; an anvilhead storm cloud with multiple lightning bolts stabbing downwards from it. “Nopony in Equestria likes lightning as much as I do, so I almost never get to practice. Especially since I like to hit hard moving targets, like other clouds, birds, squirrels...” Her voice trailed off as she briefly glanced to the unicorn on her left and displayed a skewed smile. “That sort of thing.”

“Interesting,” Kilroy said without emotion, though inwardly he felt more than a little skeptical. Still, our questioning tells us that the locals are all convinced these 'pegasi' control the weather. The least I can do is let her have a chance to show it. If she can't deliver, well, corporal Colbert always enjoys a lively sport of "shoot the running civilian." “We'll see just what you can do in a bit. For the moment, go wait outside the tent until I'm done with the last one here,” he said, and waved at the unicorn. “I'll collect you afterward and we'll go see what our air support squadron leader can think of to test you.”

Seabreeze nodded at that. “Yes, captain,” she said, remembering the earlier admonishment, and then turned and walked out of the tent.

Kilroy nodded, and then alighted his gaze upon the light blue unicorn. “Well, you know the drill. What's your name and what do you do?”

“I am the great and powerful Trixie,” the mare replied pompously. “And my magic is the talk of Manehattan, Fillydelphia, and even Hoofington,” she declared.

“Uh-huh,” Kilroy said, sounding unconvinced. “And just what does that mean in simple terms?”

Trixie sniffed derisively. “You expect the great and powerful Trixie to just condense her vast abilities down into a few words?” She asked, sounding put out.

“Either that, or I decide you're trying to mess around with me,” Kilroy said, letting a growl inflect his voice. “In which case the battalion will be eating pony stew tonight.”

Trixie blanched and took a step backwards. “You... You can't mean that?” She asked in wide-eyed horror.

“Try me,” Greg replied, and then smiled wide to make sure she could see his canine teeth. He even parted his jaw a bit and licked the tip of one of the pointed teeth with his tongue. “We could use the fresh meat.”

“IcanlevitatelightobjectsbetterthanalmosteveryotherunicornandIamverygoodinmisdirectionandturningotherspellsagainsttheirusers,” the unicorn mare spouted out rapid-fire, and then paused to take in a deep breath to replace the air her lungs no longer had. “I have better fine control than other ponies with my telekinesis and I can use my spells with great versatility despite their original function.”

Kilroy took a moment to think and pick his way through the light blue mare's outburst. I still don't believe this magic junk, but what the frack. “Alright,” he said, and then turned around to grab a small white object off the the table behind him. “Catch,” he added even as he tossed it at Trixie.

The unicorn startled but she reacted almost instantly, and a glow enveloped her horn and the baseball, stopping it in mid-air just a few millimeters from her nose.

“Nice,” Kilroy admitted with only mild enthusiasm. Inside though, he was boggling. I know I saw that white one do stuff like this, but I didn't think I'd see it again, or up close. Naturally, he was an excellent poker player, and he kept his face static as he nodded to the unicorn. “Now toss it back to me. Miss and you'll be soup yet.”

Trixie didn't reply verbally. Instead she nodded and then with a flick of her head, she flung the ball through the air towards the human.

Kilroy, though, sidestepped and watched it sail right past him, a smirk on his face. That smirk died though as the glow returned almost instantly and the object turned in mid-air to head directly towards his head. A smack told of the impact, and the human dropped on his rear end and clasped his hands over his forehead in pain. “Sweet mother of f-”

“I'm so sorry!” Trixie blurted out in fright. “Please I didn't mean it don't eat meeeee!”

“Shut up!” Kilroy yelled. The unicorn fell silent immediately, for which Greg was grateful as he rubbed where the baseball had smacked him good. After a few moments he felt a welt growing, and he stood slowly in anger. However, it soon gave way to a rueful chuckle, and he turned to face the pony. “Alright, I deserved that,” he said. “I just wanted to see what you could do. Nice job.”

“Then you won't eat me?” Trixie hopefully asked.

Kilroy shook his head as he regained his normally cool demeanor. “No, I don't think so.” I don't think I could even if you ticked me off; talking food reminds me of cannibalism. “I also think I know where you can be of help. However, it will be tough work, and you seem rather used to being pampered from your earlier attitude. If you don't want to sweat, you might as well leave now.”

Trixie stood in silent contemplation for a bit, and a few emotions ran over her face as well. Finally, she sighed and then cast her eyes down. “The great and- I mean,” she interrupted herself when she saw the human's face darken at the beginning of her usual spiel. “I will take any work. I lost all of my belongings last year along with the magic show that kept me fed. Most ponies around here don't care for an out of work entertainer; we're a bit a dozen.”

Kilroy looked over the mare at that, and he admitted that she seemed rather lean compared to some other examples he could remember. Definitely more so than that pegasus, and she's supposed to be light enough to fly. “Alright, if you're willing to sweat, then you can assist the battalion technical staff,” Kilroy said to announce his decision. “I'll take you to chief tech Newman after you've had something to eat from the commissary tent next door. He'll figure out what he can use you for, though since you'll be just an assistant he'll be giving you all sorts of terrible jobs. Be prepared to endure a lot of browbeating and heavy work.”

Despite his warnings, Trixie looked up at him with a faint look of hope. “Of course, captain,” she said.

“Just one more thing, though,” Kilroy added, and then waited until the mare gave him her full attention. “Out of curiosity, why join up with us?”

“Aside from the food and a roof over my head?” Her face darkened at the end of the rhetorical question, and her eyes became distant. “I'm hoping that when you're rampaging across Equestria, you'll take time to smash the nasty little town I lost everything in.”

Kilroy nodded at that, and despite himself he smiled. Finally, one of them talks like a human. Maybe not rationally, but like a human. “Well, if you work hard enough you might just get to see that soon enough.”

Trixie's answering smile would have chilled the blood of most ponies had they seen it.

Outskirts of Ponyville
Equestria
September 16th AD 3070/1023 RC

The small group paused as they left the forest behind, mainly to let their eyes readjust to the brighter sunlight, but also to regain their bearings. For the humans, it also provided their first view of the town, albeit at a distance. James noted that Ponyville – dear God that name is so cutesy it's a borderline atrocity – looked much like a storybook village, with thatched roofs and homes done in the Medieval European style that had just come back into vogue again on the more affluent worlds of the Inner Sphere. A few buildings he noted seemed even more fantastical, though he couldn't yet tell finer details at the current distance.

“Well, I suppose I should welcome you to Ponyville,” Twilight Sparkle said, sounding unsure. “Although I can't say the others in town won't be a little suspicious of you. Especially since some of the refugees from Manehattan have camped outside the eastern town limits.”

James shrugged at the little pony. “We've come a bit far to worry about that now; let's go,” he said and waved a hand onward.

The group moved off then and their conversation resumed with Schneider leading the way. “So, this general Stonewall-”

“I love that name,” James interrupted.

“-Has been working at fighting O'Connell's men,” Schneider continued, as if nothing happened. “What's he been up to, specifically?”

“Minor nuisance work only, it seems,” Twilight replied with a hint of discouragement in her voice. “They've been shoving rubble and other debris into streets whenever they can to try and keep the enemy contained, but the invaders have been using work crews made from captured ponies to clear them right back up again. I know that the general has tried having volunteers bucking stones at the Desperadoes, as you call them, but that didn't work so well.”

“That would be an understatement,” Rainbow Dash elaborated.

“I can imagine,” James said, scratching his chin. The group fell silent at that as the ponies didn't know what else to say, while two of the humans knew to keep quiet while their commander pondered the situation. For his part, James just looked around and studied the local environment, and while doing so something caught his eye. “Now that's a nice house,” he casually said, pointing to a cottage built like a small hill, its roof covered in grass and numerous bird houses and small mammal habitats clustered around it.

“Looks like a fairytale,” Schneider observed, his tone impressed.

“Ivan like stream,” the tall human said.

“Yeah, it's a nice place alright,” Applejack said, though her voice seemed halting.

She and the other ponies also averted their eyes, and this piqued James' interest. “What's the matter, don't like the per- er, pony that lives there?”

“What!” The four ponies exclaimed in surprise. “Oh, no, of course we love Fluttershy,” Twilight continued for the others. “It's just that, well, she was with us in Manehattan.”

“She's a very kind pony,” Pinkie Pie added.

“And even on a good day she's afraid of her own shadow. Literally,” Applejack said. “So when she saw those ponies... Well, killed, she kinda-”

“She snapped,” Rainbow Dash impatiently spouted, and then sighed in frustration. “She froze up completely and they had to carry her off. Since then she's just stayed in her cottage and won't leave for anything or anypony.”

“It's really sad,” Pinkie Pie added as the group resumed walking. “She's always so nice and kind, and she took care of the animals around here and made them feel all happy and warm but now she won't even leave to visit or take care of them and I think some of them might be feeling a little down but since I don't have an animal talent and they don't eat cupcakes so I don't know what to do with the whole situation because it makes me feel sad.”

“Sounds like post-traumatic shock syndrome,” Schneider said. “It's common enough with most people who are not acclimated to the terrors of combat. Heck, even most soldiers who are acclimated can go catatonic or have nightmares at times from especially bad experiences. What your friend needs is some time and therapy.”

“Well, our friend Rarity has been visiting her regularly, trying to get her to talk about the whole situation,” Twilight said, and then sighed. “But Fluttershy is so frightened she can't even think about what she saw without going back into a catatonic state.”

The group fell silent at that as every person and pony mulled over the situation. James flicked his eyes to Ivan, where the latter met them and nodded very slightly. “Well, maybe we can help sometime if you want,” James said, returning his gaze to the lavender unicorn. “Being mercenaries we've seen some of the worst parts of war. If one of us talks with her about it he might bring her around.”

“Maybe later, after we know you better,” Twilight allowed, and then turned to trot and start the group moving again. “In the meantime, let's go to the town hall and see if we can't have that more elaborate chat about why you're here.”

“Indeed.”

Up close, the town appeared as much as a storybook as Fluttershy's cottage, James noted. If not more so. Cobblestone streets, open marketplace, this looks like some place you'd find in old Switzerland or in some Omniss communities in the Outworlds Alliance. He revised his latter opinion soon enough as they passed a pink bakery that was modeled to look like the cakes it sold. Nevermind, the Omniss are too dour to build something like that.

The local population, he noticed, were out in force, though most cowered back and squeezed themselves against the buildings on either side of the street in a bid to avoid becoming the focus of attention. The mercenaries also noted that there was an appreciable difference between males and females, and there seemed to be an abundance of the latter. “Have your authorities started conscription?” James asked out of curiosity.

“No,” Twilight replied, having naturally become the main liaison with the humans. “Although if the army doesn't get enough volunteers it may be enforced. Why do you ask?”

“You just seem to have an awful high female-to-male ration,” James observed. “With humans it's about fifty-fifty, but here you seem to be more on the lined of seventy-thirty.”

“Sixty-nine point three to thirty point seven, actually,” Schneider replied, and then grinned sheepishly when McKenna gave him a look. “I've been counting,” he explained.

“Well, Ponyville is a bit odd like that.” Twilight paused and thought for a moment. “But now that you mention it, even in Equestria as a whole there is a definite balance towards females, though it's closer to that fifty-fifty you mentioned.”

“Just so long as they don't match cycles,” Schneider muttered under his breath.

This time it was James who did the elbowing as the ponies glanced back, having heard the lanky mechwarrior speak. “What Hermes means to say is that it an interesting datum, as it shows an additional difference between our two species that might explain our differing social constructs,” James said, and then glanced a warning at his subordinate. “Quiaff?”

“Yes. Now stop using clannerisms.” Schneider shuddered a bit. “You know that really creeps me out when you do that.”

“You should have been with us on Sigurd,” James countered. “It's a lot worse when you're sitting in a cell after they've shot you out of your 'mech.”

“I was fourteen at the time, so I doubt you would have signed me on.”

“Ahem,” Twilight interrupted as she brought the group to a stop. “We're here,” she said and then pointed out a large circular building with an upraised foreleg. “That's town hall. It should be roomy enough inside, even for you guys.”

“Good, we can get your local government involved immediately,” James said with a nod as he surveyed the public square. “Does the hall have any rapid communications devices?”

“Er, not as such,” Twilight replied. “We rely on mail mostly, though my assistant-” The unicorn paused as she remembered her friend. “Oh, of course! Dash, could you go grab Spike and get him to come meet us? I'm sure princess Luna will want to be informed right away.”

“Sure thing,” Dash said with a nod. Before she flew off, however, she turned and gave the humans an evil eye. “Don't you do anything dumb while I'm gone,” she warned.

“Perish the thought,” James replied. The pegasus looked at him for a moment as if deciding whether he was sarcastic or not, and then shrugged and flew off. “She doesn't like us very much, does she?” The commander asked, as he looked over at the remaining ponies in the group.

“She's just a bit concerned, is all,” Applejack replied. “Can't say Ah blame her, what with all we've seen.”

“Fair enough.” James then nodded to the lavender unicorn. “So, shall we?”

Twilight merely nodded and then turned to trot across the square, followed by the others. The humans glanced around as casually as they could, despite the fact that there were a number of ponies who were standing on the edge of the square and more seemed to be coming to join the growing throng. I wonder how much damage they could do in a riot? James mused. Hopefully it won't come to that, but if it does I'm glad we have a size advantage.

He banished such thoughts as they reached the town hall and began to ascend the steps, the humans taking the stairs cautiously. As they reached the top a brown coated mare trotted out and blanched at the new arrivals. “Twilight Sparkle, are those what I think they are?” She asked in shock.

“Yes mayor,” Twilight replied. “Though these humans say they want to help. I was hoping we could have our discussions inside the town hall so we can talk in a civilized manner.”

“But...” The brown earth pony said, and then glanced to the side as another, familiar pony, this one in armor, walked out. He had a fierce look on his face as he stared up at the humans while the mayor continued. “Er, this is captain Starbuck, Twilight. He is the commander of the advanced army detachment princess Luna sent.”

“It's good to meet you again, captain,” Twilight said, preempting the pegasus as he opened his mouth. “I'm also glad to see you're healing nicely,” she added, nodding to his bandaged wing.

“Twilight Sparkle,” Starbuck said, making it both an acknowledgment and the beginning of a challenge at the same time. “Is there some reason you brought enemies of Equestria into Ponyville?”

“Now hang on there, cap'n,” Applejack interjected. “Ah may not trust these boys right now, but even Ah got ta admit that they don't act like O'Connell's men.”

“She's right,” Twilight added, again interrupting Starbuck before he could speak. “They could have attacked or captured us, but instead only want to talk.”

“Plus they're really neato super friendly!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, hopping up and down as she rapidly spoke. “I was all 'do you like cupcakes' and Ivan said he loves them and we started talking and turns out they're nice people but not like ponies and kind of violent and dark but they mean really well and nopony's perfect and I'm the one to ask believe me since I keep talking and nopony seems to keep up with me except Ivan and he talks funny about guys he's punched and his gun I think he calls it Sasha and it's really neat I saw it on his armor back in the clearing and he could have used it but he didn't because he's a nice man and so are the others in that ship that just landed and most of them just want to go home but they don't want to leave a mess behind them so they want to help.”

“Enough!” Starbuck exclaimed, silencing the three mares in front of him. The steel blue pegasus eyed them briefly before he returned a critical gaze to the humans standing over him. “I don't know if you realize it or not, but these mares are special,” he said, addressing the humans.

“I'd like to think everyone is special, in their own way,” James said. “Although I hasten to add that I don't care for PSF syndrome.”

Starbuck didn't recognize the reference, so he ignored it instead. “These three and the three that are absent are even more special than most,” he clarified. “They are the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, some of the most powerful magic in the world.”

“You'll forgive us if we express skepticism at any claims of magic until we see it for ourselves,” James stated evenly. “We don't have such abilities where we come from.”

“So the princesses said,” Starbuck agreed with a nod. “I'm simply stating for the record that I wouldn't even be talking to you if they weren't here with you. And the fact that they do have some sort of trust towards you, albeit small, is the only reason I'm willing to speak with you further.”

“Fair enough,” James said with a nod of his own. “I can understand your hesitation in dealing with us given what O'Connell and his men did when they landed. I believe if you'll sit down and let us explain ourselves, though, you'll see we're not entirely like those people, and we intend to help.”

“We'll see,” Starbuck said, and then gestured behind him with a shake of his head. “Let's go in and talk and hear what you have to say.”

Chapter 8 - Ponyville Skirmish

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Town Hall
Ponyville, Equestria
September 16th AD 3070/1023 RC

Twilight Sparkle sat quiescently as she absorbed the story the human leader had told them. Her mind was already marveling at the concepts of strange new worlds, “hyperspace”, and vast interstellar empires, despite the fact that those worlds and empires warred with one another for such shallow things as power and wealth. The fact that they existed at all told her all she needed to know of the depths of the technical achievements that these alien beings had available.

The lavender unicorn glanced around the long table that was normally used for banquets, and she carefully observed every pony and human sitting there on the floor, the latter crossing their legs in a way that looked like it would be painful for a pony to emulate. McKenna was speaking at the moment, reciting the circumstances that had made his unit share the same “jump ship” with O'Connell's men. “It's actually normal to some degree,” James explained. “Independent commands often can't afford their own JumpShips, considering how expensive they are, and most merchant captains aren't too picky about taking contracts for transport, so long as everyone abides by a JumpShip's neutrality and untouchable nature. O'Connell and his unit were heading the same way we were, so he hitched a ride on the same ship. Standard operating procedure, really.”

“If you are not affiliated with him, then why were you heading the same direction then?” Starbuck asked, his voice still suspicious, though he had relaxed the tension from his body somewhat as the two groups spoke.

“We had a contract from Foundation Industries to escort their transport out to some remote proving ground and assist in testing some prototypes,” James explained. “The leg outward was the same as O'Connell was taking to head into the Draconis Combine.”

Schneider cleared his throat at that to grab everyone's attention. “Technically commander, we still have that contract,” he said, speaking carefully. “And the Klepacki will be here soon enough.”

“And technically, we're not violating that contract,” James patiently said as he looked to his intelligence officer. “You went over the wording yourself. Article 2 clearly states that we're free to engage any forces that threaten civilian population centers.”

“So long as the safety of the Klepacki and her cargo is assured at the moment of decision, yes,” Schneider replied. “If we get back to the Inner Sphere there might be some argument over whether one could define being lost in an unknown system in a different reality as being “safe”.”

“I think that can wait, though,” James said, dismissing the idea with a wave before he turned to face Starbuck across the table. “The point I was trying to make, captain, is that we were never associated with O'Connell or his group. The only point of contact we had was through Foundation Industries while we were both fulfilling our garrison contracts on Bluford. And then only briefly after we found ourselves here after the misjump.”

“I truly would like to believe that,” Starbuck admitted, and then shook his head. “But you see the problem I have, I'm sure. It's hard to take you at your word when we cannot verify it from a neutral third party.”

James sighed at that. “I know. Mercenaries know this better than most, in fact, considering the type of contracts and pay we get are dependent on our reputation. Which is the reason O'Connell didn't act like this back in our reality; he knew if he just went down to hit some random planet then word would get out that he went pirate, and before he knew it he would be on every nation's hit list.”

“Or at least the ones that give a crap about that sort of thing,” Schneider clarified.

“True. The Circinian Federation would have hired him before the Star League flattened them for collaborating with the Wobbies. Since then though there's been precious little money in piracy.” James shook his head at that. “But more than enough money in state-sanctioned raids. I understand O'Connell and his Desperadoes were heading to the Draconis Combine to take up such a contract to raid Ghost Bear holdings for the DCMS.”

“Please,” Starbuck said, holding up a hoof over the table. “I do not have your background. Could you explain a bit simpler for me?”

James took a moment to think. Then he took in a deep breath and began to speak. “Mercenaries like ourselves and O'Connell depend on a good reputation, and in the past that kept him straight, or straight as he could be given his nature. Here, there's no higher authority like an interstellar nation or the Star League, so he's out to get what he wants without being afraid of the repercussions. Without the threat of censure and punishment he's let loose his baser instincts.”

“I see,” the steel blue pegasus said, and then fell silent as he thought. After a few moments he turned to look at Twilight. “Miss Sparkle, I admit that I feel a bit out of my depth. You are a bearer of one of the Elements, though, and a powerful magician as well. Is there anything you can do to help test the truth of this story?”

Twilight felt her face flush a bit as all eyes turned to her, and she thought rapidly for a few moments before she cleared her throat. “I can't really say, captain,” she admitted sheepishly. “This is all so new, and they're from such a different reality that I don't know if traditional divination could even apply.

“Yet on a personal note,” she added, and then paused as she hadn't quite intended to voice this part out loud. With everyone looking at her to continue, though, Twilight mentally sighed and shook her head. “Personally, I can't help but feel like James is telling the truth. Perhaps that's just gratitude that he and his men didn't immediately attack us, or the fact that they were willing to leave their friends behind and come to our town to talk, but these actions don't seem like the kind of thing an invader would bother with.” She paused again and then shuddered. “Especially not one who could simply roll over Ponyville with those machines of theirs.”

“And anything in their way,” Starbuck said in agreement. He unconsciously twitched his injured wing at that and then grimaced at the spark of pain the movement ignited. “Still,” he said, turning back to McKenna. “Your offers of helping with our army, while sounding like the sort of assistance an ally would give, could also be construed as an attempt to learn where we are concentrated and allow an enemy to attack us directly.”

“That is true,” James agreed with a nod, surprising the ponies. “Our history is filled with those who have used backstabbing and betrayal to win wars. Point of fact, I don't think there's been any war that hasn't involved such behavior. You're showing an impressive level of common sense by being wary of it.

“But at the same time, may I point out that knowing where your army is concentrated means very little when that army is virtually impotent against its foes,” James added. “From what miss Sparkle and her friends have explained to us, your armed forces are literally medieval in equipment and tactics, with only your special abilities and magic as a force multiplier. Against a 31st century mechanized force you don't really offer much in the way of a genuine threat, no matter how much damage you could do before you're defeated.”

A moment of silence fell over the group, though it was quickly dispelled by Starbuck clearing his throat. “I hate to admit it, but you do have a point,” he said quietly, though his face showed the strain it took to openly acknowledge McKenna's words. “Yet you must understand that trust cannot be offered readily.”

“I do understand,” James said, and then sighed. “The problem is one of time. It takes time to build trust, we both know this. But O'Connell for whatever his faults cannot be ignorant that time is not on his side.”

“What do you mean?” Starbuck asked, his face showing confusion.

“Mechanized warfare offers a lot of advantages, but it comes with some hefty disadvantages as well,” James explained. “No machine lasts forever; entropy ensures that. Parts wear out, or are damaged or destroyed in battle, ammunition is used at prodigious rates, and our ablative armor needs to be replaced. To support a battalion of BattleMechs takes hundreds of man-hours of work even when the unit hasn't seen combat, and the stress of war doubles or even triples those requirements. I'm not sure whether O'Connell has sufficient technical staff to keep that up, but I do know he can't manufacture spare parts or ammunition, and given your nation's technology levels, I doubt he can get them from scavenging or forcing factory workers to make them for him.

“So it is inevitable that his machines will start to break down some time, which means that O'Connell will need to have a plan of action that takes that into account.” McKenna continued, after a pause for breath. “I admit I don't know much about O'Connell, but Johannes here does.” James nodded to his fellow mechwarrior at that.

Schneider took the hint and nodded. “The commander is right about that. For a brief time I worked for the Federated Commonwealth's Ministry of Information, Intelligence, and Operations, in the Military Intelligence Liaison branch. I helped the Armed Forces track down and locate cells of a terrorist organization known as Free Skye. O'Connell was identified by informants as being part of Free Skye's paramilitary forces, and I saw his dossier; he's a ruthless man, with little inhibitions, though he's not cruel so he tends to remain logical and focused. He's not a great tactical or strategic mind, but he's no dunce either. Nice middle of the road average human being, for someone who doesn't mind shooting up women and children.” Although his voice had started even, Schneider dropped into a growl at the last sentence. His countenance had darkened similarly, and he shook his head. “He might take a while to understand the situation James lined out, but he will grasp it soon enough if he hasn't already. Which means he has two options.

“First, he can pull back and try to run for it,” Schneider continued. “He can try and say that you struck first, and that he and his men acted in self-defense and ask to be taken back with us if and when we attempt to return home.”

“What!” Applejack snapped, her facing mirroring the shock and anger on the other ponies' faces. “That's th' most sun-blasted thing I ever heard!”

“I didn't say it would make sense, only that he could try it,” Schneider said calmly, trying to soothe the locals' feelings. “We wouldn't believe him, of course, but at the least if he acted peaceably and didn't engage you directly any more, then I'm not sure if captain Marquette would refuse to take him back. After all, no one wants to be abandoned and JumpShip captains tend to rather faithful to their charges.”

“I am not sure I can believe that,” Starbuck said, sounding shocked. “How could he, after what O'Connell has done?”

“Because he wasn't there to see it,” James stated with a shrug. “It becomes his word against yours, and that issue of trust goes both ways, captain. Just as you have trouble trusting us without a reliable way to verify our words, so Marquette would be forced to consider your word suspect without a confirmation of his own.”

Starbuck thought on that for a moment before he nodded. “I can see that, yes,” he begrudgingly said. He then turned and looked to Schneider. “But you said there was a second option he had?”

“Yes, and given his personality, the far more likely one,” Schneider said, and he leaned back slightly. “He can realize that it's only a matter of time until his unit falls, so he goes for an all out attack. He'll spend time to gather information from interrogating your people and sending out lances of 'Mechs on reconnaissance-in-force missions, and when he knows where he can hurt you most, he'll strike with everything he has in order to force your army and your princess to action, so he can crush you all before his forces start to break down.”

A chill silence fell over the room at that, and it stretched into an uncomfortable length before Applejack spoke up. “How can y'all be sure of that?” She asked quietly, her tone morbidly inquisitive.

“As we've noted before, humanity has a long, long history of war,” James said, his voice equally quiet. “Scenes of this nature have played out countless times before, and likely will do so again and again until the very last human draws his very last breath. We only need to look to our past to understand the present and the future, and right now O'Connell will be only too aware of his need for victory at all costs.”

“How long would we have before this attack?” Starbuck asked after another, shorter moment of silence.

“That is indeterminate,” Schneider replied. “It depends on how long it takes O'Connell to adapt to this new world and its different rules, how much he was shaken up by facing your princess, and the efforts your militia in Manhattan at disrupting his operations.”

“It's Manehattan,” Starbuck corrected.

“Right, sorry,” Schneider said with a shrug. “Anyway, my point is we can't be sure when he starts until he actually sends out recon lances. When he does that our window to act will be extremely limited to prepare to meet his thrust, as he won't want to give you enough time to realize what he's up to.”

Starbuck considered this for a few moments. “I regret to say that makes far too much sense for me to dismiss it,” he said, and then gave an openly appraising look over the three humans sitting across the table from him. “I can see why Miss Sparkle has found it in her heart to trust you: you are open with your thoughts and feelings and share your knowledge easily.” He fell silent again, his face scrunching up slightly as he thought. “I'm afraid that I still cannot advocate cooperation with you just yet, though. The security of Equestria is far too important to trust blindly.

“However, I believe that you should meet princess Luna,” the pegasus continued. “She would be in a better position to judge your intentions, and also to begin working with you if she finds you acceptable.” Starbuck turned and looked to Twilight then. “Didn't you call for your assistant?”

“Yes. I don't know why he and Dash haven't come back yet,” Twilight said in confusion. “Perhaps we should adjourn for now and think over what's been said? That should give me time to find out what happened to them.”

“An excellent idea, I think,” Starbuck replied, and the looked to McKenna with an unspoken question on his face.

James nodded to the pegasus. “That sounds like a good idea,” he said. “And it if we are to be working together – of that I believe there is little to doubt considering we're telling the truth – then it should help everyone to see us and know that all humans aren't scum.”

“Fair enough,” Starbuck said, and then stood. The others around the table did so as well, though the humans were cautious about it even despite the town hall being quite sizable. Slowly they filed out of the building and into the sunlit town square, where a murmuring crowd of ponies had gathered. Once the humans had come out the sound dropped significantly, and more than a few gasps could be heard.

“Aw shucks,” Applejack muttered. “This don't look good.”

“I've seen worse,” James nonchalantly said. “Mercs ain't exactly loved by all.”

“Oh wow! Looks like a party!” Pinkie Pie said, bouncing out and away from the others. “Hey everypony! Are you ready to par-tay?”

A grim silence answered the pink pony's question. Somepony coughed while the others just stared at her. Fortunately Pinkie had seen such tough crowds before, and her enthusiasm wasn't dampened one bit as she bounced back up the steps of town hall. “Come on, ponies! We've got some new super special friends that are going to help us so let's all welcome them to Ponyville and let them know we don't blame them for the stuff other guys do!”

A quiet murmur started up again, and Twilight stepped forward to move abreast of her friend. “Pinkie, I don't think this is a good time for a party,” she said somewhat nervously.

“Au contraire! This is the perfect time for a swell shindig! A super slap-happy celebration! A hip hop hullabaloo! A-” Pinkie was cut off then as Applejack moved up to stuff a hoof in the pink pony's mouth.

“Thank you, Applejack,” Twilight Sparkle said to her friend, and then turned to face the crowd and cleared her throat. “Attention everypony, please listen to me. I know that you might be afraid or concerned, but these humans are much nicer than the ones who attacked Manehattan.”

“Twilight!” A familiar voice broke in, sounding distant. Everyone in the square looked up and around for the source of the noise only to see a multi-hued blur racing in at high speed. Rainbow Dash barely cleared the top of the crowd as she struggled against her own momentum and managed to stop just in front of the group standing on the town hall steps. “We got a problem!” The cyan pegasus exclaimed as she landed.

“What problem?” Twilight asked. She was about to ask about Spike but she saw her dragon assistant slip off of Dash's back and dizzily stagger over to her side.

“A big one,” the baby dragon said, after he regained his balance. “Here,” he added, holding up a scroll he'd been clutching. “It's for captain Starbuck.”

The named guard pegasus reached forward with his head and snatched the proffered scroll with his mouth. Then without a word he set it on the ground and deftly unrolled it with his front hooves.

Twilight glanced at the captain briefly before turning back to her two friends. “Let me guess: you read it, right?” She asked sarcastically.

“Er,” Dash muttered.

“Well, it wasn't marked for his eyes only,” Spike offered.

Twilight frowned and opened her mouth to admonish her friends when Starbuck grunted something uncouth. “Looks like you were right after all,” he said and looked at the humans. “This is a scout report that says a group of four of O'Connell's war machines have left Manehattan and are heading in this direction.”

The murmur of the crowd grew worried and several ponies on the outskirt left while Starbuck stepped back and nudged the scroll towards McKenna, who bent over and picked it up from the pavement. Yet another peculiar parallel, James mused as he realized the script was English based, much as the ponies' spoken language. He read the dispatch twice and then sighed. “They're moving fast, but other than that it's not very descriptive,” he said. “I can't blame your scouts for not knowing makes and models, though. Do you think you can send a message and get him to come here?”

“That's possible,” Starbuck asked. “Why?”

James pulled a small flip book from a pocket on his shirt and held it up. “He can tell us more, he just doesn't know it yet. If you can you call him and get him here quicker than that force then we'll know how to respond.”

Starbuck thought about the offer, though he didn't take long. “Miss Sparkle, I'm afraid I'm going to have to borrow your assistant,” he said to the lavender unicorn.

“Of course, captain,” Twilight said. “What can the rest of us do to help?”

“Get these ponies cleared out of the square and taking cover,” Starbuck replied with a shake of his head towards the thinning but still appreciable crowd.

“And maybe one other thing,” James interjected.

Recon Lance 3, “Thompson's Gazelles”
Halfway between Manehattan and Ponyville
September 16th

“Looks like another farm, Gazelle One,” the voice of Gazelle-4, Margaret Vang, said into lieutenant Thompson's ears via his neurohelmet speakers. “Dairy from the looks of it.”

“Mmm, beef,” Gazelle-3, Yolinda Ramirez added in.

“Cut the chatter, three,” Thompson said. “And no provisioning for the moment, we're doing recon and slash only. However,” he smirked as he turned his Spider and started moving it again. “I'll make sure to mark the location down for later.”

“Copy that ell-tee,” Vang replied with a chuckle. “Forming up, taking van.”

Thompson merely nodded to himself as he watched the Locust stride forward at speed, looking like some alien bird-insect hybrid from a bad horror movie. He waited until the 20-ton 'mech had passed him by before he pushed his throttle forward to the lance's considerable cruising speed of seventy-five kilometers per hour. His Spider could have easily cruised at 86km/h, as could the Locust and the other Spider Gazelle-2 rode in, but Ramirez's Jenner was a bit slower on the long haul. Not that I mind trading a small bit of speed for the better hitting power that Jenner gives us, Thompson thought as he and the scout lance formed up and moved out towards their first major objective of the sweep.

He glanced down at the map display on a secondary MFD to check this distance and nodded again. After a glance forward to make sure he wasn't going to run into anything soon, Earl Thompson freed a hand from its normal position on the joystick and entered in a few commands to mark the map as he promised. Good eating later, and I don't care if the damn things talk, I want fresh steak.

“More fliers above,” his second, Wesley Sosa, noted. Thompson quickly snapped his eyes to look over the display in front of him and relaxed a bit when he saw only a few of the winged ponies displayed on his holographic HUD. Those chunks of lead they dropped might've been a poor man's kinetic projectile, but they still hurt. Unlike the medium and heavier 'mechs of the Desperadoes, the company of light 'mechs whose responsibility was reconnaissance and anti-personnel work had nearly been put out of commission by the initial battle in Manehattan. Impressive a 'mech may be, they're not invincible. I wish some people would remember that idea and how it applies even more so to light 'mechs. It had taken the entire week since then to replace the armor and one smashed actuator that the earthquake and airborne attack had damaged, and Thompson was not eager to dip back into the battalion's technical supplies again anytime soon.

Thus when he saw that the pegasi in the air were only a few and heading west at a high speed that only airborne life could achieve, he felt a bit safer. “Keep an eye on them, two,” Thompson said as he returned his attention to the ground. “They're probably just running ahead to let the fresh meat know we're on the way.”

“I don't like it,” Sosa replied. “Shouldn't let them know where we are.”

“Well until they finish the airstrip we won't have cover from the fighters,” Thompson explained patiently, despite the fact that his 30-ton 'mech was loping along. “So for now just keep an eye on them and take some laser shots if they get close.”

“Understood Gazelle One,” Sosa replied, in the voice that let Thompson know he was quietly sulking.

The lieutenant muted his mic and sighed in private. Wes worries too much. There's nothing these little ponies can do to really hurt us unless they come at us in waves, and if they try that again we'll just mow them down some more.

Everfree Forest
2.7km West of Ponyville

“Ah can't believe Ah got roped into this,” Applejack muttered as she strained against the harness wrapped around her middle, her legs pumping hard as she pulled the laden cart along the path through the forest at high speed.

“As I recall you volunteered,” Johannes “Hermes” Schneider wryly observed from where he crouched in an otherwise empty apple cart. His amusement was tempered however by the unsteady nature of the cart and its locomotion, both of which he was unused to and made him nervous.

“I volunteered ta help, not to be a taxi puller.”

“If it's any consolation, I never liked taking taxis.”

“As a matter of fact that that don't consolate me at all!” Applejack snapped with a glance back.

Schneider shrugged at the pony's irritated look. “In that case you should save your breath so you can run faster so this will over more quickly.”

Applejack let out a tired groan that sounded suspiciously like a growl, despite her equine nature. Nevertheless she kept her peace and concentrated on the path ahead and on her body, wringing as much speed and strength out of it as she could. Her efforts were soon rewarded as they emerged from under the forest canopy and into the clearing where the Heart of Steel had grounded. The orange earth pony had been told the name of the ship and thought it was silly at the time, though now as she blinked her eyes clear and slowed to approach it closely she saw that it at least was impressive enough to warrant any name it was given.

The giant BattleMechs standing guard near the ship made her wary, but much as Twilight had done, Applejack found herself extending a bit of trust towards this second group of humans, so she continued forward. Of course, the fact that James had used a radio to call ahead and let them know that she was pulling Schneider back had helped her piece of mind, as well.

“Well well well,” a voice sounded from the tallest, ugliest of the machines, nearly startling Applejack with its volume. “Look who took the pony express.”

“That pun wasn't funny when Jim used it, either,” Schneider shot back with a yell as Applejack finally pulled to a stop at the base of the ship's embarkation ramp. The human quickly climbed out of the cart and walked up to where the pony was working to catch her breath. “Thank you miss Applejack,” Schneider said earnestly. “I do appreciate the effort.”

“'Twern't nothin',” Applejack replied, still breathing heavily. “Just help my town, 'kay?”

“You got it,” Schneider replied, and then turned to dash off towards his Firestarter, stripping his over clothes off as he went.

Applejack watched in with a sense of perverse curiosity, wondering why the humans had bothered with clothing at all when they were just going to take it off again to climb into their fiddlin' machines. Then again, they did say they can't control the weather where they're from, AJ remembered as she slowly started to walk in a circle so she could go back the way she came. I think I'd be wearin' a lot more clothes if I needed to keep rain off all the time or somethin' like that.

Movement from behind startled the little pony just then, and Applejack reared back as five human-sized shapes ran by her at a speed she didn't think any one of them could actually reach on only two legs. She didn't have time to reflect on it, unfortunately, as the cart was bumped by one of the figures and tipped to the side, taking the earth pony to the ground with it. “Ack!” Applejack grunted out, more out of surprise than any serious pain. “Ahh, horse apples.”

“Sorry!” A voice called back from the diminishing shapes.

“I'll make ya sorry ya consarned grass-munchin' parasprite!” Applejack shouted back.

“I like this one,” the voice from the first, ugly machine sounded. “She's got spunk.”

“Don't think I ain't got 'nuff for you too!” Applejack snapped, twisting her head to try and get the big thing in her vision. “Makin' fun of a lady while she's down and can't get up! Why I oughta buck the smug right out o' your voice!”

The voice laughed at that. “I really like her. Can we keep her, missus McKenna?” The big machine twisted its torso to face another, smaller, but more sleek looking one while its pilots' voice dropped into an affectionate parody of a child's begging. “Please?”

“Shut up Dorian, and get back to radio,” a female voice sounded from the second machine, surprising Applejack. “Miss, I'll have someone from the ship come out and right you if you need help.”

“Help? Ha! I don't need any help.” Applejack retorted as she started to stand. Or rather, she tried to, but her muscles were still a bit weak from the run from Ponyville, and she flopped back down on her side. “Well, maybe a little bit,” she admitted with a blush. She didn't get a reply, but figured that the sudden movement of hundreds of tonnes of metal was a good excuse to suspend a conversation. Despite her temporary weakness, Applejack managed to raise her head up a bit so she could level her sight, and the orange pony had to admit that watching the huge machines break out into movement was awe-inspiring when they're not out to get you.

Now how the hay do I get up?

Recon Lance 3,“Thompson's Gazelles”
600m East of Ponyville, Equestria

“Okay, I thought the city was bad,” Gazelle-4 observed. “But seriously? This is sickeningly cute.”

“Understood and agreed, four,” Thompson said, and he spared a moment to pop his faceplate and rub a hand over his face. The magnification of the town that was their first objective had shown not only a set of houses and other buildings that looked like something from a book about medieval Terra, but several of the more prominent buildings were clearly styled to display their function in the most gaudily way possible. “Regardless of our feelings, we need to conduct a sweep and make sure it's not being used to stage ground forces.”

“Understood ell-tee,” Vang replied. “Standard spread?”

“A small change this time,” Thompson said, while he turned his Spider to the right. “I'll take right, Four takes left, Two and Three head through town. Try not to burn the thing down unless you have to, the boss wants to start avoiding unnecessary collateral damage.”

“And what about necessary collateral damage?” Sosa asked as he moved his own Spider forward, taking the lead in front of Ramirez's Jenner.

“Again, try to avoid it,” Thompson repeated. “But if you gotta make a point, make sure it sticks with the ones that live.”

“Understood, One.”

“They're splitting up.”

James nodded as he crouched in the entrance to the town hall. “Standard sweep procedure of a small town or village. One 'mech on either side and two in the middle capable of moving out to support one flank or the other in case of an ambush.”

Starbuck grunted and nodded from where he stood with McKenna, both using the shadows cast by the building to try and keep themselves from being too visible. “It's similar to our sweep tactics, though we prefer to deploy in pairs,” he said, his voice quiet but even.

“A sensible precaution for most situations,” James agreed, his tone a match to the pegasus'. “A BattleMech has advanced sensing and holographic display technology, though. Basically, it can see in a full circle around it and compress that view so that a pilot can observe it at a single glance.”

“Making it harder to be surprised,” Starbuck said, some admiration sneaking into his speech, though he kept it at a near-whisper. “Impressive. Why operate in a unit of four then?”

“Various reasons,” James said with a shrug. “Mainly tactical flexibility. A lance is the smallest formation that trains together regularly, so the pilots all know each other well, allowing them to respond quickly as a unit to changing conditions. Also by having a group of four you can tailor the composition so that different 'Mech designs cover each other's deficiencies. It also simplifies logistics if you base your larger units off of a single common formation that you just multiply.”

“How can you two be so calm?” Twilight asked in a strained whisper from where she stood deeper in the building, just in front of a mass of ponies who'd taken refuge inside. “Those things are walking through Ponyville and you're comparing notes?”

“Civilians never change, do they?” James asked the pegasus.

“Not that I've ever seen,” Starbuck agreed, with a shrug.

Twilight snorted in a most equine manner at the two males. “If I didn't know any better I'd say you were enjoying this.”

“Not exactly, miss Sparkle,” Starbuck replied. “But there is something to be said for sharing one's work with somepony else in the same field.”

No one had anything to say to that, and a moment passed in silence. Soon enough, however, the first vibrations could be felt through the floor, and Starbuck frowned. “They'll be passing right by this building,” he said. “Perhaps we should pull back inside?”

“That would be a good idea,” James agreed, and they both slowly moved back as the first of the 'mechs approached the town square. “Your scout has good eyes and memory, by the way,” James said. “He nailed the designs perfectly once I showed him the recognition guide.”

“I'll be sure to tell him that,” Starbuck replied. “It might mollify him after being ordered away.”

James shook his head a bit at the guard's tone. “I'm sorry for that, but you ponies aren't quite up to the task yet. However, you've got some good things going for you, and if we can just get some time I've got a few ideas how to use your natural talents as force multipliers.”

“You've mentioned those before, what are they?” Starbuck asked.

A sudden burp from inside the building preempted James' reply, and the ponies standing in the hall turned and parted to show a slightly embarrassed Spike standing in their midst holding a new scroll. “I think it's for you, captain,” he said, walking forward and offering it to the pegasus.

Starbuck took it and placed it on the floor before he unrolled it. He squinted a bit as the light in the hall was dim, but soon enough he heard a click and a spot of light appeared on the parchment. The steel blue pegasus glanced up and saw that James was holding a light. “Thank you,” Starbuck said and then bent down to read the missive.

Seconds later her swore again. “Haystacks and hail bait,” he muttered, and then glanced over to Spike. “Didn't you send that letter to the princess?”

“I-I did,” Spike protested as he was put on the spot.

“What's the problem, captain?” Twilight asked, stepping forward.

“Princess Luna has seen fit to deploy the reconstituted assault wing,” Starbuck replied. “Despite my request that she keep them in Canterlot and refrain from engaging the enemy per your suggestion, McKenna.”

“But they'll be slaughtered!” Twilight exclaimed, causing the crowd behind her to mutter worriedly.

“I know that,” Starbuck countered, and then sighed. “But I can't countermand the princess. How long until your men get here?” He directed this last question to the human commander.

James flipped his wrist and checked the strap-on chronometer he wore. “Another five minutes, if Applejack wasn't boasting about her ground speed.”

“She wasn't,” Rainbow Dash interjected from where she'd been standing with Ivan off to the side of the two commanding officers. “AJ's the fastest pony on the ground you can find in Ponyville.”

“The note was time-dated as per the old wartime handbooks,” Starbuck began somewhat obliquely. “If the princess wasn't exaggerating, the assault wing is already en route. Given their flight time while carrying bombardment slugs they'll be here in two minutes or so.”

Dash blinked at that, and then shot up into the air until she reached one of the upper story windows that let the light in. “Haystacks, I can see them,” she reported.

“Can't we warn them to wait at least until my men can keep the enemy distracted?” James asked, and then pointed to Spike “How about Puff the magic dragon over there?”

“Excuse me?” Spike asked in an irked tone.

Starbuck just shook his head. “Pegasi don't have unicorn magic to hold scrolls up when one appears, as I'm sure you've noted from the ones I've received. Anything we send will just drop towards the ground and the guards won't dive to get a missive when they're on a mission.”

“Let me go then,” Rainbow said as she dropped back to the ground. “Applejack may be the fastest on the ground, but I'm the fastest pony in Equestria, period.”

“You're not wearing armor,” Starbuck countered.

“I won't need it,” Dash retorted. “Not at the speed I fly.”

The two pegasi stared at one another for a moment in a silent contest of wills. Finally, though, Starbuck sighed. “There's no time to argue, and you are the fastest pony I know.”

“Right, bye!” Dash said, and before anyone could say another word she disappeared in a cloud of dust and a blur of color.

“Sweet mother,” James said. “She is fast!”

“Just please don't let her hear you say that,” Twilight said with an air of long suffering. “Now what do we do?”

James shrugged. “Wait and pray.”

“More fliers, two o'clock high,” Thompson reported to his lance, since he had taken the northern approach and thus was the closest to the enemy's approach vector. “Gazelle Three I need you to move to the town's northern edge and use those arm-mounted lasers of yours for AA.”

“Copy that, One,” Ramirez replied. “Turning north and- what the frack!”

“What in Hell's name was that?” Sosa called out a moment later.

“Report!” Thompson demanded, though a split second later he understood their outbursts as he saw a rainbow-colored blur streak into the sky, heading for the incoming fliers. “Nevermind, I see it.”

“Friggin' thing popped out of the circular building in the center of town,” Sosa reported.

“Must be some kind of messenger,” Thompson said. “Okay, change of orders. Two and Three, move back to the center of town and pick up positions around that building. I'm coming to join you. Four, halt your sweep and keep an eye out for anyone trying to flee. I have a feeling we just found a command post.”

“What about the fliers?” Sosa asked.

“I doubt they'll attack when their own town is in the way,” Thompson replied. “But for safety's sake I want Three keeping track of them while you and I, Wes, go see if we can't knock off a general or something.”

“Ahh, haystacks,” Starbuck muttered as the footfalls of the enemy 'mechs started growing louder again. “They must have seen where Dash left from.”

“Is there another way out of this building?” James asked, glancing around.

“Thinking about saving your skin already?” Starbuck asked angrily.

James frowned at the pony. “They undoubtedly know something's up with this place. If we can distract them, then these people,” he waved a hand towards the many dozens crowded into the town hall, “might be able to get out while keep the enemy occupied.”

“Ivan not think that good idea, commander,” Ivan piped up from where he stood rock still. “We only have pistols. Not good against 'mechs. Also they not know we here yet. We spoil surprise if we walk out.”

“I know, but this building has become target number one on their hit list,” James replied to his subordinate. “We need to think of the civilians first.”

“Indeed,” Starbuck interjected. “But if your friend is right, then we need to keep them from finding you just yet until your soldiers get here. I'll go out and see if I can't stall them.”

“They're just as likely to shoot you as not,” James warned.

“I'll take that risk,” Starbuck replied. “You just get these ponies out if it comes to that.”

“Trusting me already?” James asked with a raised eyebrow as the 'mech footfalls finally stopped just outside.

“It's either you or nothing, so I'll take what I can get,” Starbuck replied, and then smirked a bit.

That smirk died a premature death, however, when a voice boomed from outside. “Alright, we know someone's in there, we saw your messenger leave. Come out quietly and I won't be forced to level the building.”

Human and pegasus shared a look before the latter took in a breath and then slowly trotted forward, pushing open the doors that had been closed after Dash's sudden departure. Starbuck slowed to a slow walk as he left town hall and looked up, blinking in the early afternoon glare. Slowly his eyes adjusted and he made out the three ominious shapes, two human-like facing him from different sides of the square, and a third, boxy machine on the other side of some houses to the north that faced towards the assault wing in the air. Thankfully, the pegasi seemed to have heeded Dash's warning and were keeping their distance by orbiting the town, warily watching for any change in the situation.
“What have we here?” The voice from the rightmost machine asked.

Starbuck turned his body to face it squarely. “I am captain Starbuck of their majesties' royal guards and army. You are trespassing on land I have been charged to defend.”

“So I am,” the voice replied. “May I presume you are the superior officer here?”

“I am,” Starbuck replied strongly. “And you are?”

“I am lieutenant Richard Thompson, of the O'Connell's Desperadoes mercenary company. I'm afraid I must ask you and your men- I mean, your soldiers to surrender,” Thompson said, confident despite having to correct himself. “You are promised to be kept safe under guard as prisoners of war until this conflict is over.”

“You'll excuse me if I find that offer spurious,” Starbuck retorted, his voice laced with anger. “I was there at Manehattan when you lot landed. I saw what your commanding officer did.”

“Then you should know why it would be foolish to refuse us,” Thompson replied. To punctuate his words, the two weapons jutting from his machine's chest aimed downward at the pegasus with an audible sound of movement. “As for our CO, he's had a bit of a change of heart. He wants to avoid further needless bloodshed despite the relentless and unprovoked attack your leader took upon herself to launch.”

“What!” Starbuck yelled out, his face turning red underneath his coat. “O'Connell attacked first! He killed innocent ponies to make a point. I was there, I saw it!”

“So you say,” the lieutenant returned mockingly. “Undoubtedly that is the version of events you were told to repeat to cover up for your princess' lack of self-control. However, major O'Connell is more than willing to let bygones be bygones and allow the clearly oppressed peoples of this world to join with us as we fight against the ruling class.”

The pegasus guard looked about ready to burst into flame, and his face had turned purple. “You... How... Are you mad?”

“I am quite sane and serious, captain,” Thompson said. “Deadly serious. Now will you surrender?”

Silence fell upon the town square as Starbuck stood alone, his face contorted in anger and confusion. His expression cycled several times before it finally settled upon a serious, yet reserved demeanor, whereupon he lifted his chin towards the enemy machine. “I cannot surrender Ponyville,” he flatly refused.

“Ponyville? What a terrible name,” Thompson said, his voice tinged with disbelief. “In any case, it will no longer be your con-”

Starbuck found himself further confused when the lieutenant cut himself off. Then the sound of explosions could be heard coming from the west and understanding overtook him.

Corporal Margaret Vang sighed in boredom as she looked over the town from the vantage point of her Locust's cockpit/head assembly. Her HUD painted the icons of the other members of her lance clearly enough despite the few two story buildings the town had interrupting her line of sight, and so she felt little concern for any serious threats. Thus she was mainly scanning the ground around the western edge of the village proper for any attempts by the locals to sneak something or someone out that might be valuable to capture or destroy, or possibly to prevent an enemy force from maneuvering around for an ambush. She also kept switching her gaze to the sky as the fliers continued their lazy orbit around the town, wary about being caught in the open and alone, though she trusted her speedy 'mech to outmaneuver any dive-bombing attacks.

Because of her boredom and split attention, Vang's immediate reaction to seeing a pair of unknown BattleMechs jump jet out of the forest behind her was to stare dumbly in incomprehension. This state only lasted a half second though before alarms sounded in her cockpit, warning the mechwarrior of multiple target locks, and Vang sprang into action. “Contact! Enemy 'mechs west of the town!” She called even as she turned her 'mech and started moving it forward.

A wave of missiles arced in even as the Locust's myomers began to contract, however, and the small cluster of long-range missiles fell down on the thin back armor of the corporal's 'mech. She was somewhat lucky in that only two of the missiles managed to hit, stripping away the protection on her center rear torso but otherwise leaving the Locust operational as the other three missiles of the salvo blasted craters into the dirt around the 'mech's feet.

“How many, Vang? What types?” Thompson asked via the radio, his voice sounding in the corporal's ears.

Margaret ignored him for a second while she jinked her 'mech to the right and took aim for a street that would lead her into town. “Two of them,” she called out as the Locust ramped up speed. She checked a secondary MFD and then spoke again. “Warbook says an Assassin and a Firestarter omni.”

“McKenna's men!” Thompson realized. Vang, though, didn't hear anything else he might have said as another volley of LRMs sailed in, and this time the full barrage hit. All five missiles from the Assassin bored into her 'mech's left arm and shook the entire machine with the explosions, while a sudden red mark on the armor diagram on Vang's HUD denoted that the machine gun on the stubby arm had been blasted away along with all of the armor on that limb, leaving only a tangled wreck that would be useless for anything short of ramming it into the enemy's machines.

That damage would pale, however, as the Firestarter fired both of its large lasers just then. One missed, its blood-red beam trail of ionized air glowing menacingly overhead. The other weapon, though, hit dead on, and it ripped into the right rear torso armor and vaporized it. The burning photons didn't finish with the paltry protection and the leftover energy ripped deep into the 20-ton 'mech's torso, cutting structural supports down like weeds until nothing was left and the last of the beam spent itself on the inside of the frontal armor.

Bereft of all its supporting structure, the right side of the Locust collapsed in on itself with a torturous squeal while the right arm simply fell to the ground without anything left to anchor it. The sudden loss of so much mass threw the 'mech's balance off immediately, and Vang struggled desperately to keep it upright by twisting in her seat, hoping the neurohelmet she wore would register the change in brainwaves and import it into the Locust's movements. Unfortunately, it proved to be too little of a help, and the light 'mech pitched forward and augured into the loamy earth at eighty kilometers per hour, digging a short but pronounced trench with its jutting torso.

Vang blinked several times to try and clear her eyesight, which had gone blurry from the sudden and violent impact. Once her eyes began to focus again, she toggled an advanced damage display on her secondary MFD and stifled a groan at the sheer volume of damage done by both the enemy's fire and the fall.

She had no further time to dwell on that, however, before the enemy Firestarter pulled to a stop next to her and five figures in battle armor dropped off of its torso. Realizing she was outclassed and about to be the direct focus of men in suits that would allow them to rip her cockpit open and kill her with ease, Margaret reached over to her engine control panel and put her 'mech's reactor into a cold shutdown to show her surrender.

“The Locust is down. The pilot's calling it quits,” Schneider called as he waited patiently for the Blackfoot squad to disembark. Can't say I'm in a hurry to move while I let the heat drop, the mechwarrior thought as he felt the sweltering warmth in his cockpit start to decline. Firing that much and jumping puts a strain even on double-strength heat sinks.

The active probe suit beeped for his attention then, and Schneider nodded to himself before triggering the radio again. “They're turning to run north. Blackfoot squad, move into the town and meet up with the commander. Tania,” he continued, glancing over to the Assassin out of habit. “Head east and try to cut them off. And for God's sake, watch where you throw those LRMs, there are civvies around.”

“I haven't missed yet, have I?” Tania Griffin replied easily. “But don't worry, three, I'll watch my fire.”

“Good girl, now go,” Schneider said as he turned his 'mech to the north and triggered his jump jets again.

“How long did the captain say to hold up here?” The brown pegasus leading the assault wing asked of the strange cyan mare who'd raced up to meet them.

Rainbow Dash took a moment to shrug as she flew next to the leader at the head of the others. “Only until the second group of humans comes to help,” she explained.

“I still don't know why he's so trusting of them,” the brown lieutenant muttered. “Seems awfully convenient they show up just now.”

Rainbow Dash shot him a sheepish grin. “Life is like that in Ponyville sometimes,” she said, still keeping the grin on her face.

“Look!” The call came from one of the pegasi in the back. Dash and the guards all followed his pointing hoof down to the ground and watched as the two 'mechs from the Dark Horse jumped out of the Everfree Forest and engaged and took down the Locust.

“Okay, that was cool,” Dash observed to no pony in particular. Then she turned her attention to the other three Desperado 'mechs and watched as they turned to start moving north, while the two Dark Horse units split up, one heading to the east of Ponyville and the other leaping towards the middle of town on silvery jets. A thought entered her head, and before she knew it Dash started talking. “Okay lieutenant, those orange and yellow ones are the only ones to target,” she said, pointing out the withdrawing light 'mechs. “Wait until they get out of town and are fighting the others before you attack, okay? But don't attack the greenish ones.”

The brown pegasus nodded. “Alright, but what will you do?”

“Me?” Dash asked, and then shot him a cocky smirk. “I'm going to do what I do best,” she said, and then closed her wings and dropped into a dive.

“Four's down,” Sosa reported over the lance radio net as the rest of the “Gazelles” moved through the town's streets towards the closest open terrain.

“Understood, keep moving,” Thompson replied over the same net, and private Yolinda Ramirez felt a tingle of genuine bone-deep fear at hearing the worry in the lieutenant's voice. “Once we hit open terrain we keep sixty meters' separation and head east at one-ten kay-em-ache until we reach the next forest. We should be able to lose them by then.”

Ramirez called in her acknowledgment right after Sosa did, and the fear subsided somewhat as the plan of action took shape in her head. We're faster than a Firestarter and Assassins have paper thin armor. As long as we stick together we can outrun the one that can hurt us and cut down the one that can keep up. She felt a small worry about that as the Assassin matched her Jenner in speed and actually exceeded the light 'mech in jump distance, but most versions of the 40-ton medium scout 'mech had only two or three weapons, whereas the Jenner had a wide array of medium lasers and a short-range missile rack. Add in the lasers on the Spiders and we'll hurt him.

Her growing confidence took a hit as the enemy Firestarter soared over the town on its jump jets and landed in the town square only a short distance away. Although its pilot could have fired on the retreating lance with its large lasers, he apparently chose not to and instead started to give chase over the ground.

Dumb move, tough guy, Ramirez thought with relief. You won't catch us on the ground!

Her exultation barely had time to start before it was immediately cut off by a multi-hued shape that dropped right in front of her cockpit, startling the young MechWarrior. Ramirez took only a moment to realize it was one of the flying ponies, and her startled feeling turned into anger as the creature abruptly started making faces and odd noises at the human. “Out of my way you dumb horse before I swat you down!” Ramirez shouted, not bothering to trigger her radio or exterior speakers as she pressed the Jenner forward again.

“I'm not a horse! I'm a pegasus!” The creature countered. “And you can't swat anything without real arms on that thing.”

Ramirez growled in frustration as she realized this was true. The Jenner's arms were little more than flat panels that moved widely to aim the paired medium lasers they both mounted, and the pegasus kept floating just under a meter from the armorplast canopy; far too close to target with ranged weapons. “And you can't do anything to me while I'm inside this 'mech!” Ramirez shot back.

“Except distract you,” the cyan-coated pegasus retorted, and then abruptly shot upwards in time to show Ramirez that she was headed for a lake at high speed. The MechWarrior pulled her throttle back until it hit the stops at full reverse, but thirty-five tonnes of metal traveling at nearly one hundred kilometers per hour didn't want to stop on a dime, and the legs plunged into the water. The sudden resistance slowed the lower portion of the 'mech down rapidly while the top retained its inertia, and Ramirez felt the sick-to-the-stomach panic of an unplanned freefall.

Schneider watched the Jenner pitch forward into the small lake and winced. Humiliation, he thought with a grin. “Great work, Rainbow Dash!” He called to the pegasus over the external speakers as he marched the Firestarter to the edge of the lake. “Now get back under cover, he's going to be mad when he gets his wits back.”

“It's actually a she,” Dash called from where she was hovering over the lake. “And I'm not scared of her!”

Schneider was about to reply when the Jenner's upper half suddenly emerged from the water as its pilot started to right it. “You fracking piece of horse meat!” The enemy's shrill yell of rage sounded just before she fired all four of her lasers towards the cyan pegasus, the heat spike flash boiling any water still clinging to the 'mech's torso and arms.

Fortunately for Rainbow Dash, she was already moving when the Jenner fired and was quite a small target, so none of the weapons hit. Gone was her bravado, though, and Dash dashed, zipping along just above the ground for the cover that Ponyville's buildings provided.

Schneider, meanwhile, took his time and aimed his weapons carefully before he triggered not only the large lasers, but the head-mounted medium laser that replaced one of the normal flamers in the omnimech's primary configuration. Although he had followed the light 'mech, the enemy MechWarrior had shown some brains in turning while standing to make sure she was facing her heaviest armor towards any threats, and so Schneider found himself somewhat disappointed when both of his large lasers only slagged armor off the Jenner's central and left torso, although the latter section was laid bare. The medium laser also hit, boiling away the armor on the right arm and starting to eat at the internal structure, though it missed its paired counterparts in the enemy 'mech.

Time for a sucker punch, Schneider thought, and he pressed a secondary trigger on his control sticks. Two panels opened up on the Firestarter's chest at that command and both of the ten-tube rocket launchers mounted within spat out their unguided weapons. The lack of self-targeting unfortunately sent one of the barrages into the lake to churn its water with high explosives, but the other rack was dead on and eight of the ten rockets slammed into the Jenner's center torso, tearing away the last of the armor and ripping into the internal structure and vital components. The 35-ton 'mech shuddered and convulsed as metal fragments spewed out from its middle like mechanical offal, telling Schneider that the gyros had been hit and subsequently ripped themselves to pieces on their damaged housings, and within seconds the Jenner took its second plunge into the lake.

“The Jenner is down and out,” Schneider called over the radio. He was somewhat breathless as the alpha strike had stressed his 'mech's cooling system beyond its capacity, and the searing heat in the cockpit made him sweat and gasp for air until the heat sinks could bring the temperature back under control. “I'm going to see if Tania needs help, so someone come and keep an eye on this idiot,” he said before turning the now-sluggish Firestarter to the east and pushed it into a run.

“Dark Horse Eight and Nine are clear of the forest,” Schneider heard James respond over the radio. “They won't catch up to Spiders so I'll have them watch our new guests.”

“Understood commander,” Schneider replied, and then sighed with relief as the heat in his cockpit dropped back to normal levels. “Moving to support Dark Horse Seven.”

“They got Three,” Sosa said in an eerily even voice.

“No crap, Wes,” Thompson snapped. “Push it to max before-”

An alarm interrupted him, and the lieutenant glanced to his HUD to see the Assassin appear from behind a copse of trees, already moving at maximum speed as it closed with the two Spiders. Fire blossomed from its torso as a small wave of five long-range missiles arced up and down towards Sosa's 'mech. Gazelle-2 proved lucky as only one of the missiles maintained its lock on the rapidly-moving Spider to blast a small chunk of armor from the right arm.

The Assassin was far closer to the two fleeing 'mechs than it had been to the Locust, however, and so the medium pulse laser in its right arm lanced stuttering light pulses into the same arm the LRMs had hit, slagging away the last of the armor before it chewed up the forearm structure and hand actuator. Surprisingly a small laser lanced out next, sounding a mental alarm to Thompson that this Assassin had been modified. The small laser was clearly an extended-range version to reach out so far, and Thompson winced in sympathy as it melted off a good portion of armor from Sosa's 'mech's right leg. Finally a pair of short-range missiles streaked out from the Assassin's left torso, both of them tracking accurately as they slammed hard into the Spider's right torso, leaving it with only the slightest of protection.

Thompson heard Sosa grunt over the radio, and again the lieutenant felt a pang of sympathy and of concern for his lance mate. Yet he also knew that the other MechWarrior had gotten off lightly in that exchange, having lost little of importance save armor and a nominally superfluous hand actuator. Still, if we stay to trade shots that thing will eat us alive, Thompson reminded himself to counter the immediate urge to turn his 'mech so he could unmask his lasers. That thing is probably a custom job, which means it could have enough armor to stand up to us while it takes its time ruining our day.

Although he hadn't told Sosa of his reasoning, the other pilot seemed to read his commander's mind and he pushed his machine to match Thompson's as they both raced to put distance between them and the medium 'mech that was now falling behind them. Their speed advantage was barely eleven kilometers per hour, however, which would allow the Assassin's pilot to keep up the exchange for a long period of time before the Spiders outdistanced it. The only thing the two Desperadoes had going for them was that the sheer speed at which the three 'mechs raced meant that the enemy MechWarrior would have to split his attention between targeting his weapons and trying to keep his ride balanced and moving; no mean feat even for tried and true veterans.

Fortunately, it proved enough as the Assassin's next salvo was less effective. Both lasers flashed their beam trails wide while the LRMs fell short and blasted a chain of craters in Sosa's wake. The SRM launcher, though, got another good lock and two missiles flew in tight formation to lay bare the center back of Sosa's Spider.

“I will not make it, lieutenant,” Sosa said, suddenly breaking the tense silence.

“It's just another klick to the forest, Wes,” Thompson replied. “Just hang in there.”

“That pilot is good, sir. Too good,” Sosa countered. “At least one of us must make it back to warn the battalion. You have the better protection, so go, and do not look behind you.” With that Gazelle-2 abruptly dropped his speed and made a hard turn to the left, away from Thompson, to loop around to face the enemy.

“Don't you be a frackin' hero, Wes,” Thompson nearly shouted.

“What we have done on this world is not heroic,” Sosa countered, nearly stunning the lieutenant with the thick tone of regret. “And I make my payment for it now,” he added before running in towards the enemy 'mech, firing his pulse lasers as he went. Only one shot landed, and it merely slagged armor over the customized Assassin's plentiful torso armor.

Sosa's luck from earlier did not hold out, as the enemy MechWarrior landed his pulse laser, LRMs, and SRMs squarely, ripping armor off of the torso and head and tearing apart structural members wherever the Spider's armor gave out. Thompson felt a bit of surprise that the Assassin's pilot didn't add in the small laser. His confusion evaporated as the enemy, against all sense, continued running forward with the left arm raised high, the metal fist clenched. Is he that crazy, or that good? Thompson wondered.

The question was answered a split second later as the armored fist slammed hard into the Spider's cockpit, smashing it inward. Thompson knew instantly that the blow had been fatal to Sosa as his 30-ton 'mech collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut.

With a heavy heart, Thompson returned his attention to his piloting. The cover of the forest was close now, and he hit his jump jets to leap the last two hundred meters into the trees' embrace.

Tania Griffin brought the Assassin to a halt as she watched the last Spider jump into the forest ahead of her. She grimaced in frustration at failing to stop it, but then had some hope as some of the locals' fliers began to make dive bombing attacks directed near where the enemy 'mech had disappeared behind the trees. She watched for a few moments before the locals broke off and turned to head back to the town. At that she keyed her radio. “Dark Horse Seven here, I took out one of the Spiders, but the other one made the forest. I don't have the speed or the maneuverability to catch him. The locals tried to engage with dive bombing but I don't think it worked.”

“Understood, Seven,” commander McKenna's voice sounded back. “If it can't be helped, it can't be helped. Status on the downed MechWarrior?”

“KIA,” Tania replied evenly, too keyed up with adrenalin to feel much of anything about having just killed another person just yet. “Good man, bought time for his fellow to get clear.”

“Copy that,” McKenna said, and then the radio fell silent for a moment. He came back on soon enough, already talking as he switched channels. “Alright Tania, come back to the town and stand watch on the eastern approach until I have something more for you.”

“Roger that commander, over and out.”

Chapter 9 - Review

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Town Hall
Ponyville, Equestria
September 16th AD 3070/1023 RC

“My soldiers verify at least two solid hits on the upper portion, but sadly neither of which stopped the enemy or even slowed him,” Starbuck reported to the human standing beside him at the top of the town hall steps. They both stood facing out over the square where the pegasi assault wing had landed to rest their weary bodies.

“I can't say I'm happy with that,” McKenna admitted, and then shrugged. “But war is like that. You do your best, and so does your opponent. Sometimes his best is better than yours. And that's before you even factor in something as unpredictable as luck.” The human shook his head and then reached into his shirt pocket for a piece of chewing gum. “That your men- er, troopers even managed two hits on something as relatively small and fast as a Spider shows great skill. If luck had been on their side they could have nailed the cockpit and at least stunned the mechwarrior, or even killed him.”

Stabuck felt a bit of pride at those words, and he wondered why. It's the way he speaks, the pegasus finally concluded after a moment of thought. He talks much like the princesses; from a position of experience, and perhaps even a little wisdom. Of course, the human's wisdom and experience were mostly in the field of war and combat, neither of which was something that Starbuck felt eager to increase his standings in. Yet I find myself in a position where I need such things, and here is a being willing to share of it freely, much the way Celestia or Luna would share their observations of the world.

The chewing noises that came from James just then made Starbuck blink himself back to reality, and he nodded to the human. “I will pass along your compliments to the soldiers. I think it will help them to hear some praise.”

“Yeah, people love praise,” James agreed. “But don't lay it on too thick, okay? This wasn't a real battle, only a minor skirmish.”

“If I hadn't seen the initial attack in Manehattan I would find that hard to believe,” Starbuck replied. “I still have a hard time understanding it all, it moved so quickly.”

“So do I, in fact,” James admitted, and then smiled sheepishly at the pony as he looked up in surprise. “Again, war is like that. Fortunately, humans have figured out how to apply a scientific approach to figuring these things out, and I will introduce you to what we call a “post action review”.”

Starbuck raised an eyebrow at James. “I believe there we are even with you. We too find it a good thing to debrief those who return from combat and try to understand what occurred.”

James smiled more widely at that. “Excellent. Then you will find it rather easy to slip into one of our reviews,” he said, and then glanced to his watch. “That is, if my daughter gets here with the equipment any time soon.”

“Should I send a scouting party?” Starbuck asked.

James shook his head at that as he lowered his arm. “Naw. My heavier units stayed back at the DropShip so I know that they're safe. Probably just taking time to get the Ferret out of storage.”

Starbuck sighed. “I wish you would stop using names I have no reference for.”

“Now, where would the fun in that?” James asked and then flashed a smile. “Besides, don't you have ferrets here?”

“Yes we do, but you make it sound like another one of your machines,” Starbuck observed.

James nodded at that. “A good supposition, and a true one. The Ferret is a helicopter used for scouting and troop movements. The Dark Horse have one because it's handy to use to scout locations when we're on garrison duty, or even moving some lightweight supplies on some missions.” James paused then to fiddle with the gum in his mouth. “If we have any time, ask me about how we used it on Port Arthur back in '59, and I'll give you a story that'll ruffle those wings of yours.”

“I will look forward to that,” Starbuck agreed with a nod. “But you did not explain, what is a “helicopter”?”

“Oh, it's a machine that flies through the air,” James said. Before he could continue though, a low growling pierced through with a high whine could be heard coming from the west, and every pony in town tensed up at the new and strange noise. All save Starbuck, however, who saw the knowing look cross James' face. “Well, you'll see exactly what it is in a moment,” the human said, and then glanced over the square. “Do you think you could have your men make room? I'd like the 'copter to land close by so it's easy to get to.”

“Fair enough,” Starbuck replied, and then trotted down the steps as he took in a deep breath. “Attention! Clear the square! Clear the square for incoming friendlies!”

The pegasi started to scatter at that, as did the few Ponyville citizens who had come out in the wake of the skirmish. Scarcely had they cleared out when a dark gray, angular shape lazily flew overhead. Most of the ponies, especially the civilians, startled heavily despite the forewarning given by the machine's noise, and a few bolted. Most of the rest stayed and watched as the machine made a wide right turn and flew behind the town hall before banking to make an elongated circuit of Ponyville.

By this time Starbuck had finally cleared the square and then was able to turn his eye to the so-called “Ferret” as it leveled out and approached the square from directly in front of the hall. The pegasus guard felt a moment of brief panic as the machine seemed to come in a bit too fast, but at the last second the helicopter pitched backwards and slowed rapidly as it descended below the rooftops of the buildings lining the square. Starbuck felt his jaw drop a bit at witnessing that, as well as the way the machine gently settled to the ground on strange protrusions that had come out just before the thing would have hit cobblestone. The whole maneuver looked as practiced and natural as a pegasus' landing, although it was much louder. The noise started to die out then, and Starbuck blinked as he finally realized that there was some sort of blur above the main body of the machine; something he'd noted before but his conscious mind hadn't quite grasped. As he continued to watch from his vantage point at the foot of the town hall steps, though, he finally paid the blur careful attention and watched with interest as the movement of the machine slowed and he finally made out the five long spars that stretched out from a central hub as their spin slowly died. That must be how it flies, he realized, though he admitted to himself that he didn't have a clue how it worked.

The growling of the machine had died with the slowing of the spars, but the whine had continued, albeit at a much lower volume. As the spars finally ground to a stop, though, the whine died out abruptly, dropping in pitch to silence in less than a second. Starbuck saw movement through the glass-like canopy at the front of the craft, and he recognized the human shape, as well as a bright orange color that moved quickly into the back. A few seconds later the human disappeared into the main body of the helicopter as well, and a moment later the side opened up, revealing it to be a door that slid backwards to reveal the human pilot, an orange earth pony, and an apple cart.

“Applejack!” A voice shouted from behind Starbuck, and the guard looked back to see Twilight Sparkle and Spike descending the steps, apparently drawn out of their recent task of sending messages to Canterlot and the scouts around Manehattan by the noise.

“Twilight!” Applejack shouted happily as she hopped down and out of the Ferret and trotted over to meet her friend at the bottom of the stairs. “Y'all gotta try that whirlygig! It's one hay bail of a ride!”

“I'm glad you enjoyed it,” the human walking up behind the pony said, and her voice marked her as a female to Starbuck's ears. The way her body seemed shaped was odd, though, showing more difference between her and a human male than there was between a mare and a stallion. “Especially after my mother had to threaten you with a punting to get you on board.”

Applejack blushed as the human and Spike chuckled at the comment, though Twilight shook her head. “That's a mean thing to say,” she observed.

“That's my wife,” James said as he walked up. He then turned to give the female a look. “How'd she take being ordered to stay back with the heavies?”

“Frankly, dad, she wanted to punt you with her Warhammer,” the female replied with another chuckle. “I think that's why she was short with Applejack here.”

“Is that any way to greet a superior officer?” James asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, of course, excuse me, commander,” the female said, and then crossed her eyes and offered a sloppy salute while sticking her tongue out. “This good enough for ya?”

James sighed and closed his eyes at that, and then rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You get that from your mother, you know.”

“Well duh,” the female said, grinning as her expression and stance returned to normal. “Someone's gotta keep you from getting a big head.”

James shook his head, and then turned to look at the ponies standing nearby. “Captain Starbuck, miss Sparkle, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Melissa Alice McKenna,” the elder human said with a wave towards Melissa. “She is my unit's chief pilot and commander of our air lance.”

“Captain,” Melissa said, her expression losing its flippancy as she knelt down to offer a hand.

Starbuck brought up his hoof and the two exchanged a brief shake. “Miss. I must admit to being impressed at your landing; it looked as natural as that of a creature born to the wing.”

Melissa beamed at that. “Thank you, captain. I try to practice as much as I can, despite my father over worrying about my style.”

“You mean your insane stunt flying?” James asked. “Need I remind you that this is the second helicopter we've bought?”

Melissa grimaced at that. “I belly flopped into a lake once.”

“In front of a duke who was our employer at the time,” James sternly countered.

“Well, I did learn from it,” Melissa replied with a blush and a sheepish look. “Always make sure your altimeter is set for local conditions.”

James sighed at that and shook his head. “Blondes. Ack!” He clutched his belly where Melissa had delivered a short, light punch. “Striking a superior! It's the brig and hardtack for you, young lady!”

The younger McKenna shook her head and then knelt to offer her hand to Twilight. “My apologies for ignoring you, but you've met my father and so you understand.”

“Far more than I ever thought I would,” Twilight agreed with a grin as she shook the human's hand with her hoof. “Although I can't wait to learn more. Your father mentioned you were bringing books?”

“In the chopper with the rest of the gear and Applejack's cart,” Melissa said, gesturing with her head. “I hope you like reading, because dad told me to bring copies of the whole library, even the electronic versions of the stuff we have in hardcopy.”

Twilight's smile remain stuck on her face even as her eyes blinked in confusion. “I have no idea what you just said.”

“You will,” Melissa warned, and then looked to her father. “So, commander,” she said this seriously now without a trace of sarcasm. “I assume you'll want to unload immediately?”

“Yes, Mel,” James said with a nod. “First let's get Applejack's cart out so she can get it back to her farm.”

“I thank ya kindly for that,” Applejack said, and then the group turned to head to the Ferret. “And fer the ride. I'll help y'all get that stuff inside too if'n ya want?”

“Thank you miss Applejack,” James replied. “We would much appreciate it.”

“Whoa, did you see that?” Rainbow Dash asked of the two friends she walked with. “I'm going to go check it-”

“You most certainly will not,” Rarity interrupted, glaring at the pegasus as the latter opened her wings. “You promised to come with to make sure Fluttershy is okay after that terrible battle.”

“Humph,” Dash grunted as she folded her wings back up and lowered her head a bit. “I would've only been a minute.”

“And then a minute and a minute and a minute and a minute and a minute,” Pinkie Pie said, repeating the same words over and over again. “And a minute and a minute and a minute-”

“Pinkie!” Both Rarity and Dash yelled at the pink pony.

“And then you'd be late!” Pinkie finished, as if she had intended to speak precisely that long the entire time. “This way will be much better 'cuz you'll be with us as long as we need you and then after you can go flying off and find out what that fancy thing that flew was and I bet it's really cool and neat but friends are more important so I know you'll stay because you're so loyal and nice even when you try to pretend you're not because you're afraid of being hurt again after-”

“Pinkie!” This time it was only Rainbow Dash who erupted. Her face looked almost purple after the red of her blush made its way through her blue fur, and she moved over to nudge her pink friend. “You promised.”

“Oh right nevermind I forgot what I was talking about,” Pinkie Pie suddenly said, blushing slightly herself.

“Now you hold on one moment there,” Rarity said, moving to stand in front of the pink and cyan ponies. “Rainbow Dash, if somepony has hurt you I demand to know who it was so I may deliver them a sound verbal thrashing!”

Dash stood silent for a moment as surprise registered on her face. Then her blush returned and she turned her head to the side. “Aw, it's nothing like that, Rarity,” she said, and then looked back to the unicorn. “Pinkie was just talking about Gilda.”

“Oh. Oh!” Rarity said, and then blushed herself. “I'm sorry, Dash. I didn't mean to bring up that old wound.”

“It's okay,” Rainbow said as she flapped her wings and hovered in the air a bit. “Now come on, let's go check on Fluttershy,” she added and then glided ahead, keeping her speed low so that her ground-bound friends could follow easily enough.

Rarity sighed at the change in her friend's demeanor, but she pushed aside her concerns and resumed trotting forward. One friend at a time, Rarity, the white unicorn told herself.

So the group moved onward, leaving the town proper and heading into the grassy outskirts on their way to Fluttershy's cottage. The silence they had fallen in grew somewhat more ominous as they passed by the fallen remains of the war machine that had plowed into the dirt just outside of town, a lone human in armor guarding it. The figure – whether male or female nopony could tell underneath the boxy armor – simply nodded a greeting to them and then resumed standing watch. In the distance they saw one of the machines belonging to McKenna's company standing at guard, and both Rarity and Dash couldn't help but shiver slightly at the alien imagery that had superimposed itself upon their world.

Pinkie Pie, however, seemed immune. Or if she did feel nervous, she didn't show it as she continued to move forward in the peculiar bounce she used when she wasn't in a real hurry. But even she seemed to calm slightly and slow into a regular walk as the group crossed over the bridge that led across the stream in front of Fluttershy's home. Rarity easily took the fore and knocked a hoof on the cottage door as Rainbow landed next to her. “Fluttershy? It's Rarity,” the unicorn spoke, raising her voice so it could be heard through the thick wooden door.

No answer came through the door, and the three ponies shared a look of concern before Rarity knocked again. “Fluttershy!” She called out more loudly. “It's Rarity. I'm here with Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash. May we come in?”

Again, no answer was heard. Rarity raised her hoof to knock a third time but stopped herself when the door clicked and slowly pulled back to reveal Fluttershy's animal companion, Angel Bunny. The small rabbit glanced up at the three ponies with a worried look that was utterly out of place on the normally intransigent creature, and he beckoned the ponies in with a forepaw before he stepped out of the doorway.

Surprised and not a little bit curious, Rarity quickly stepped into the cottage, followed by Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie. Once they were inside Angel closed the door behind them, and the ponies blinked as the room fell into near darkness. “Fluttershy?” Rarity asked, looking around as she willed her horn into glowing to provide light.

“Maybe she's sleeping?” Rainbow suggested. “The curtains are all drawn.”

“Uh, no Dash, she isn't,” Pinkie said, her voice surprisingly serious and smooth. Both the pegasus and unicorn turned to look at the pink pony and saw her pointing a hoof towards the corner of the main room where the stairs to the upper floor descended into a landing. There in that corner, huddled behind her favorite sitting couch that she had dragged over from its normal spot was Fluttershy, curled into a ball and shivering.

Rarity trotted over almost instantly. “Oh Fluttershy, what happened?” She asked, bending forward to gently place a hoof on her friend's shuddering back.

“Don't touch me!” The harsh scream that erupted from the normally quiescent pegasus startled the other ponies in the room, and Rarity hopped back out of fright as Fluttershy brought her head up and cast a wild-eyed stare at her. “They'll see me, they'll find me!” She yelled, her voice only slightly lower but no less hysterical. “They were in the city, but they followed me here!”

“F-Fluttershy, no,” Rarity said in a low voice. “Oh dear, no, they weren't here for you,” she added and stepped forward, intending to wrap her friend in a hug.

Fluttershy would have none of it. She sprang to her hooves and backed further into the corner, her wings held high and her frazzled mane flopping down along the side of her face. “Get away! You'll bring them, you'll bring them!”

Rarity backed off again, her mouth agape at the usually demure Fluttershy now raging in paranoia. “Fluttershy, please, I'm your friend. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“GO!” The yellow pegasus demanded. “Just go! Go go go!” Fluttershy's voice cracked then, and she sank to the floor, her legs folding beneath her. “Go. Just... Just go.” With that, she buried her head beneath her hooves and went back to shaking on the floor.

The other three ponies just stood there blinking in shock and confusion. Finally, they turned to each other and shared several worried looks before Angel hopped over to the shuddering pegasus in the corner and softly patted her head. Fluttershy seemed to relax a bit at this, and the bunny looked up and waved the other ponies away.

They took the hint, and Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie all slowly turned and walked out of the cottage, pausing only long enough to open and close the outside door. “She's so much worse than before,” Rarity said quietly once they were safely walking away from the cottage. “She must have seen those things fighting,” the unicorn added, dripping scorn now as she gestured towards the ruined machine lying on the ground near Ponyville.

“I don't know why that would set her off,” Dash observed with a furrowed brow. “I had a decent look from above, and it wasn't like Manehattan. These were machines shooting at machines, not like ponies at all.”

Rarity shook her head, her mane bobbing back and forth. “Rainbow, it doesn't matter what they were doing, the fact that she saw them again and their terrible wrath sent her back into fearing for her life,” the unicorn explained with a tone of tired patience. “Oh this foul war, those cursed humans,” she grumbled, casting a harsh eye towards the war machine standing to the north. “How much more must we endure? How long must we suffer before this chapter is put behind us?”

“You're such a drama queen, Rarity,” Dash said, rolling her eyes. “Is it bad? Yeah, it is. But come on, we can whine about it or we can get something done about it.”

“That was not whining,” Rarity countered, her voice haughty and deep. “Thiiis is whiinniiiinngg.”

“Augh!” Dash yelped, stopping in her tracks so she could rear back on her hind legs and press her forehooves to her ears. “Stop that, please!”

Pinkie Pie, who had been silent, suddenly giggled in a mad fashion, causing both Dash and Rarity to look at her. “Oh Rarity, you are so random!” The pink pony said, and then started bounding off in her usual bounce towards town. “I'm going to ask Ivan for help with Fluttershy!”

“Did Pinkie Pie of all ponies just call me “random”?” Rarity asked, her expression askew in the manner of utter confusion.

“Yeah, she did,” Dash said as she rested back on four hooves again. “That's a bit like the cumulonimbus calling the cirrus black.”

Rarity huffed. “You pegasi and your cloud metaphors. Wait a second,” she asked, again looking confused. “Who is "Ivan"?”

“One of the humans,” Dash replied as they resumed walking towards Ponyville. “And disturbingly, he thinks like Pinkie Pie.”

“Oh sun and moon, there are two of them now?” Rarity asked in surprise. “I think I may faint.”

“If you want to fall on the dirt, be my guest,” Dash replied with a smirk. “I'm not going to catch you.”

“You have absolutely no manners, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity huffed.

“Tell me something I don't know,” Dash countered, her smirk now a grin. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see what that flying thing was.” With that, the cyan pegasus leaped into the air.

“Rainbow Dash!” Rarity hollered, causing Dash to partially freeze in mid-air. “Are you so ready to just fly off on a whim? Did you not see how much poor Fluttershy needs our help?”

Dash didn't respond right away. Instead she just slowly landed again and stood quietly, facing away from the white unicorn. “Rarity,” she said, her voice low and tense. “We both saw how she is. I don't think there's anything we can do for her right now.”

“So you're just going to fly off and indulge in idle curiosity, just like that?” Rarity asked in a huff. “Don't you care about Fluttershy at all?”

Rainbow Dash turned to face her friend at that, and Rarity took a step back as she saw the intensity of the pegasus' stare. “Don't you dare ask me that again,” Dash stated flatly. “Fluttershy is my oldest friend, and I don't like seeing her like that anymore than you do. But she was about to attack you, Rarity. Fluttershy was about to attack you to keep you away.” Dash sighed than and shook her head. “I love her like a sister, but even I know there are times when a pony needs to be alone. She needs to calm down, Rarity, and...” Dash let her voice trail off then, and she glanced to the side.

Rarity's eyes widened as she caught on. “She doesn't trust us, does she?” She asked.

“Hurts, doesn't it?” Dash replied, and then shook her head. “I know, she's had a shock. We all have. I still wake up with a nightmare now and again about those poor ponies. But we've been able to at least talk to one another about it. Fluttershy refuses, and I don't know what to do.”

“Then why the interest in something else so soon?” Rarity asked, more curious than scornful.

Dash sighed again and then took to the air with a wince of pain. “Dang burns,” she muttered. “Rarity, if I don't focus on something that's interesting or cool, then I'm just going to keep thinking about Fluttershy. But I can't do anything to help, and it will just tear me apart if I just keep going on about it.

“So I'm off to see what that flying thing was all about,” Dash added, and then smiled faintly. “Besides, it beats talking about hairstyles, which is what you're going to do now that I've given you the idea of distracting yourself.”

“Oh please,” Rarity sniffed, turning her head to the side and closing her eyes. “I'm not some one-trick pony. I could talk about how I'd like to update your gala dress, instead?” She asked, turning to give a pleading look.

“Sorry, another time,” Dash said, flippantly, and then disappeared in her idiomatic blur.

A yellow pegasus watched as Rainbow Dash disappeared into the air and Rarity took a moment to sigh in exasperation. Fluttershy smiled at the scene, so normal it was that she forgot her troubles for a moment. Then her eyes traced over the fallen machine lying outside of Ponyville, and then shuddered and let the curtain fall back into place.

Why did they have to come? The pegasus asked herself as she turned and trotted back to the corner of her cottage that she had taken to lay in. Am I the only pony who sees? Who understands what these "human" are? Fluttershy shuddered again as she curled back up on the floor, barely noticing the blanket that Angel had placed down for her while she had been at the window. Instead her mind drifted back to earlier in the day, when the bird-like machine had walked around and then stood looking at the town. In a way, it had almost been calming, seeing the machine walk with the same stilted movements of a bird, and Fluttershy had even caught herself giggling briefly as she likened it to some sort of metal creature that had crawled out of the giant metal egg that landed in Manehattan.

Her memories had started to trigger then, but even more unfortunately so had the new machines appeared, soaring on burning wings of silvery flame to land on either side of her cottage. Fluttershy's understanding of the creatures that piloted the metal monstrosities solidified as they attacked and destroyed the first machine. They're predators, she thought with another shudder. Predators are usually well equipped by nature with talons and teeth, and they know not to hunt ponies. But these humans, they make their own equipment, just like ponies. And they hunt with it, they hunt each other in a way no pony would ever do. So why wouldn't they hunt ponies like prey?

Her shuddering increased as she went back into the mental feedback loop. Her mind kept replaying the scenes she had witnessed; the casual, heartless slaughter of a dozen ponies whose only crime had been curiosity, and now this mindless terror of mortal combat that had intruded itself upon her home. And the stories about how the humans looked like, the ones Rarity had told her in an attempt to shake the pegasus out of her funk, they had concerned her the worst now that she had seen humans on the hunt.

They do not have fangs, or claws, or speed or strength, and certainly not magic of any kind, Fluttershy told herself. Yet they hunt and are so very good at it, despite their lack of abilities. Don't the others see? Don't they understand the kind of creature that can do that in spite of its weaknesses? She whimpered unconsciously at that. They choose to hunt, to prey on themselves and other species. How can anypony stand up to such things that defy the natural order? Defy it, and win?

In the middle of the room, Angel Bunny looked on and shook his head again in sadness and hoped that help would come soon for his mistress.

“Here's the last exchange from your viewpoint,” Schneider said as he pressed a few buttons on the control pad for the holoprojector. The image immediately shifted from the BattleROM recording of his Firestarter to Griffin's Assassin, and the conflict that had looked so distant from Schneider's point of view suddenly became up close and personal. Of course the image was frozen to allow everyone at the table in the town hall a chance to take in the new view, and for those who could read the data tags along the side of the image, the basic information of the Assassin's status. Schneider waited a moment for everyone to get acclimated before he hit the play control, and the image sprung into life, showing the withering blasts of lasers and missiles that scoured sheets of metal from the enemy Spider, which returned fire but with less than stellar effect. Only one laser hit, and a quick glance at a readout labeled HTAL revealed to the initiated that the weapon's effect was minor.

The image continued moving in eerie silence, the sound having been muted to allow the viewers a chance to observe with as little subconscious interference as possible. They watched at the Spider staggered from the weapons impacts, though its mechwarrior showed better piloting skill than he did with his gunnery, managing to keep the 30-ton 'mech upright and moving closer to his opponent, both arms already coming up to rain physical blows down upon the heavier Assassin. Griffin had acted first, however, and the image from the so-called “gun camera” beneath the cockpit faithfully recorded the large metal fist of the Dark Horse 'mech as it slammed into the armored canopy of the Spider, crushing through it and into the cockpit behind it, killing the mechwarrior within instantly.

One of the viewers of this grim spectacle looked away as a flash of red was briefly seen. Twilight Sparkle felt her stomach churn a bit at having just watched someone die, even if he had been an enemy. Even if he did help assault princess Celestia in Manehattan, the lavender unicorn thought.

“Is there anything you'd like to add to the playback, Tania?” The voice of James McKenna broke the silence, and Twilight looked over to the dark-skinned human woman who sat on the other side of the long table. Her face was almost unreadable, but as she studied the human Twilight thought she could make out a bit of regret.

“Not really, sir,” she replied, her voice low but steady. Griffin turned from the recording and looked to her commanding officer. “Only that he seemed to know his fate. He could have twisted away, tried dancing that 'mech of his around to get a shot at my backside, but he just came right at me.” She fell silent then for a moment to think, then “He was buying time for his ally to get away, and it worked.”

James nodded to the younger MechWarrior. “We'll give the remains a proper burial,” he said, coming as close to open praise of the enemy as he was willing to at the moment. He then turned to Schneider. “Okay Hermes, we got the rundown settled. How's it stack?”

“Well obviously it was much in our favor,” Schneider replied, and then tapped the controls of the holoprojector. The image switched to a simple, flat, text-based table that hovered and rotated in the air so everyone could read it. “As you can see we lost no tonnage while we took out one hundred five tons of light 'mechs. If captain Starbuck's men are correct about landing hits, we can also count a pound of flesh from the one that got away, as well.

“Overall, the fight was fast and ugly, with no time to plan. Although our heavier weight and better experience gave us the edge, we were frankly lucky that the enemy was not concentrated and tried to decline battle instead of rallying to combat us. If that lance had been given better upgrades and had better training and leadership, Tania and myself could have been in some hot water 'til Dark Horse Eight and Nine showed up.”

James nodded, having come to the same conclusion. “Agreed, we were lucky,” he said, and then turned to look over the ponies who had come to sit in on the post battle debriefing and analysis. Starbuck was there, of course, as was Twilight Sparkle, the mayor, and two pegasus lieutenants from the newly-arrived assault wing. Spike the baby dragon was there as well, and he was writing down notes at Twilight's behest, even as the unicorn herself made different notes about the debriefing at Starbuck's request. “What do you think, captain Starbuck?”

The steel blue pegasus, now bereft of his helmet, shook his head, causing his short orange mane to bob about. “I think I have never seen anypony win something so completely and still call it on luck.”

“That's not entirely fair,” Schneider interjected. “I believe we would have won no matter what. I was just observing that it could have been a much more costly victory than it was.”

“Even so, it's odd to see you being so modest,” Starbuck replied. “That brief conversation between O'Connell and the princess and his actions in Manehattan since then have been rather megalomaniacal.”

Schneider chuckled. “You just haven't seen Jim on one of his bad days,” he said, grinning to his commander.

James rolled his eyes at the joke. “Just because I get a little excited in battle-”

“Excited?” Schneider interrupted, shaking his head. “You forget Jim, I was your contact on Proserpina. I still have flashbacks on occasion about the things you said during that ambush outside the rebels' base. What was that one phrase you yelled at the Panther that shot your 'mech's backside? Something about his mother and, er,” he paused and glanced over at the females in the room before continuing. “Ah, considerable physical abuse of an extremely unlikely nature.”

James blushed heavily at that and covered his face with both hands, and then leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Oh, you just had to bring that up, didn't you?” He asked sardonically. “Rebecca still throws that in my face when we fight and it was over fifteen years ago.”

“Excuse me, but I feel this meeting is getting off track,” Starbuck interjected, and promptly received a look of extreme gratitude from James. “I think we all have a good understanding of what happened with the battle. If there is nothing else to your procedure, I'd like to discuss some other topics and then write up my report to my superiors and to princess Luna so they may know more about what happened.”

“An excellent idea,” James said as he worked to regain his composure. A grin split his face then and he looked over to Schneider, who stiffened at the glance. “In fact, I think that as allies – in practice if not quite officially yet – we should submit to your superiors our own, lengthy, written report on the battle, the tactics used, individual health reports, statistical anomalies, the whole works.”

“You are an evil, evil man,” Schneider said to the commander with a tone that bespoke his understanding.

“Only to certain smarmy MechWarriors whose memory is a bit too long,” James replied, still grinning.

Twilight Sparkle watched this interplay in fascination, amazed at the different layers of meaning that the humans used with ease. I doubt that most other ponies even understood that, she thought, glancing over the other beings native to Equestria. The two pegasus lieutenants seemed almost perplexed, and the mayor looked equally out of her depth, though she seemed to understand the subtle reprimand James had just inflicted on Schneider.

Captain Starbuck understands, though, Twilight thought as she glanced briefly over the stallion, seeing the amusement in his eyes. It must be something only experience can give you.

“Come on, dad,” Melissa spoke up just then, and Twilight turned her attention to the younger McKenna. “Hermes didn't mean it. Couldn't you let him off easy?”

Twilight cast her eyes at the other humans and again was fascinated by their differing reactions. Schneider looked hopeful, while James suddenly frowned and looked conflicted. Tania Griffin, though, shifted uneasily in her chair, looking uncomfortable at the exchange. Twilight didn't understand this for a moment, until she recalled her friends often would act the same way when two ponies they liked argued over something relatively unimportant. They really are like us in so many ways, the lavender unicorn thought. Then her memories of watching the recent recordings washed over her, and Twilight had to suppress a shudder. And yet so much unlike us, as well.

“Johannes, you do know that you've got the best luck, right?” James asked, and Twilight once again watched the curious interplay as Schneider's face showed a mix of relief and chastisement. “I still want a written report, but make it a simple one,” he said, and then turned to look at Starbuck. “That is, if the captain agrees to sending it. I apologize sir, I forgot to ask.”

“It's alright,” Starbuck said, smiling faintly, briefly. “I think it's an excellent idea to send your own views on the fight. Hopefully my superiors will understand your honesty for what it is.”

“You have my thanks, sir,” James said, his tone respectful. “How soon do you intend to send your report?”

“After we've finished discussing a few more things,” Starbuck replied. “Firstly, with Ponyville being the only settlement of any size between Canterlot and Manehattan, I would like to know your intentions are concerning its defense?”

“That will depend on several factors,” James replied. “But I think it would help if we had some visual aids. Hermes?” He turned to the man at the holoprojector console. “Bring up the map we made from the orbital pass.”

“Yes sir,” Schneider replied evenly, his tone very much that of a respectful subordinate. He tapped at the controls in a rapid-fire fashion that told of his experience with such things, and Twilight found herself admiring the human's fingers for their fine dexterity. If I didn't have my magic, I'd want something like those, at least, she idly mused.

Any further thoughts on that idea passed when the text table was replaced with a new image file that laid out horizontally rather than vertically. Twilight and the other ponies had to stand to look down on it properly, but once they did they recognized an accurate map of the area surrounding Ponyville and stretching north to Canterlot.

“Here you can see that while Ponyville is technically closer, it's not necessarily in a direct line between Canterlot and Manehattan,” James began, and Twilight had to stifle a question at why he and the other humans seemed to have problems with the ponies' town and city names. They always seem to stutter a bit, as if they want to say something else.

As he was not privileged to the unicorn's private thoughts, James went on, pointing with his hand towards Canterlot. “Your capitol is well sited for defense, and there's only one approach up the mountain for a ground-based force. Although one might try a combat drop directly on top of the city, O'Connell is likely not going to risk losing his sole DropShip and his entire battalion on such an operation, so I think we should plan for a ground advance.

“Because of this, I think we can rule out a direct threat to Ponyville anytime soon,” James continued, and then glanced up at the pegasus captain. “You'll remember that we discussed O'Connell's choices this morning. I still feel that he will try for an all out attack, now more than ever once he knows there are modern mechanized forces opposing him.”

“We do have a slight advantage because of that, though,” Schneider interjected, and then continued when James gave him a polite nod. “O'Connell is a typical bully personality; he likes winning too much to accept a plan that will give him anything less that complete victory. Knowing we're out here will make him more cautious and curtail further probes from his scout lances lest he lose them to ambushes. Furthermore, he will take extra time to make sure that his remaining forces are in top-notch condition before committing to battle.

“On the negative of that balance, when he comes it will be utterly without mercy,” Schneider continued with a shake of his head. “I managed to question the two prisoners a bit before our review, and though I didn't get much I did pull out the fact that they were to avoid collateral damage. Likely O'Connell wanted to try a softer approach towards you poines, but with us being a real threat both to his physical assets and the psychological control he wants, he will drop that and go hardline. Resistance will be met with deadly force, and no quarter will be offered or asked for once the fighting starts.”

The room fell silent at that, and Twilight shivered briefly at the import of those words. Finally, though, Starbuck spoke. “I believe I understand that. I also think I understand where you are going with this, but I would like you to explain it for me, please.”

James nodded to the pegasus. “O'Connell is not going to risk frittering away his forces on secondary objectives, not when he has the Dark Horse to worry about. We have some more breathing room while he doubles his preparations, but he will come out soon enough and he won't stop until your Canterlot is a burning ruin, or he's driven back in a crushing defeat.”

“Then Ponyville is safe for the moment?” The town's mayor asked, speaking up for the first time.

“For the moment, yes,” James agreed with a nod to the elder mare. “O'Connell's not a good strategist, so he's going to go for the biggest target he can find. Ponyville is not that target, not yet. Hopefully not ever, but you must be aware, madame mayor, that war is a fluid situation and things may change. I would suggest you find a way to make your town able to protect its citizens in case things do change.”

The mayor nodded sagely to the advice, while Starbuck shifted and then leaned over to look at the glowing map more closely. “So, O'Connell will make a direct line for Canterlot?” He asked, and then pointed a hoof at the green forest that surrounded the Royal Mount in a thick belt. “Whitetail Wood is a considerable obstacle.”

“Indeed it is. But not an insurmountable one,” James replied. “However, I note there is both a significant roadway and a rail line between Canterlot and Manehattan running through the forest.” He pointed out the thick line with a single finger. “He may just use them as a main avenue of advance.”

“I'm not so sure about that, Jim,” Schneider interjected, and reached out to point at the forest. “Unlike the one we landed in, this forest is thinner and has smaller trees. Even his light 'mechs will be able to press through and bulldoze a path through it. Which he may well do; he may not be inspired, but O'Connell's not exactly stupid, either. He's going to see the highway or the railroad right of way as a good place for an ambush, and he might decide to bypass them entirely.”

“Which means,” Starbuck said, his voice slightly distant as his mind raced to catch up. “That if you try to meet him in the wood or on the transport lines, he could avoid fighting you altogether?”

“Or split his forces up and try a classic pincer movement,” James replied. “He could easily move his lights through the forest fast enough to match a march by his heavies and slower mediums along the highway.”

“And if we spread out to engage both avenues of advance then all the advantages in the world won't mean spit if we dilute our strength,” Schneider added.

“Well, you will have our support,” Starbuck pointed out, and then raised his one unbandaged wing briefly. “It was our scouts that told you of the incoming enemy, and we can keep a good watch on them from outside of their combat range. We can easily relay to you their dispositions before you move to engage them.”

James nodded and despite the situation, grinned at the pegasus. “I was hoping you'd offer that. I know we've made a good impression today, but I don't want to presume too much in our planning.”

“Given what I saw in Manehattan and here, I don't think we can defeat O'Connell without your help,” Starbuck replied. “At least, not before a tremendous number of ponies would be killed in the meantime.”

All of the humans, and the two pegasus lieutenants nodded somberly at that. “Indeed. Well, that's what we're here to stop,” James evenly said.

Starbuck nodded nodded back to the human. “I believe you,” he said, sounding almost surprised. He paused for a moment and then sighed. “I just hope I'm not being foalish in trusting you.”

“You aren't, and that's a fact,” Melissa spoke up just then after having fallen silent to absorb the discussion. “My parents raised my siblings and me with love and affection and an eye to make us into good, productive, concerned human beings. They taught us right from wrong and what to do about it when it goes all out of whack. Because of that I know they're good people, and living with them has taught me to recognize that sort of goodness in others, like Hermes or Tania here.” Melissa waved to each of the named MechWarriors, both of whom blushed slightly at the praise. “That's one of the reasons the unit is small: because my dad won't hire anyone he doesn't trust to do the right thing when the chips are down.

“So you're in good hands, captain,” Melissa added as she sat back against the cushion that she'd been provided to make up for the lack of seats. “If you can't trust our words because you don't know us, then trust your eyes when you look at me. I was raised by that man over there,” she pointed to her father at that. “And by my mother, and even a bit by all the men and women in the unit over the years. Ask yourself: if they were the kind who would stab you in the back, would they raise up someone normal like me? Or wouldn't I be an emotional wreck that would be doing her best to sabotage everything around her instead of trying to do her best to help others?”

Again silence fell over the room as every being paused to consider what had been said. Twilight chewed on her thoughts, and once again she found herself admiring the similarities between human and pony. These humans, at least, she reminded herself. Yet even then her mind drifted back and the unicorn recalled that there were bad apples in ponydom as well, and that her world wasn't perfect. Why is it always the bad ones who ruin things for everypony else?

Starbuck cleared his throat just then, and everyone looked to him. “It has been said that words are cheap,” he spoke carefully. “But it is also said that actions speak for themselves. So far your actions today have been noble and considerate, and through them I can find myself open to your words. I find myself trusting you, and I promise that so long as that trust is not betrayed then I shall do what I can to aid you.”

The two lieutenants nodded to their captain's words, and even Twilight nodded as she felt herself caught up in the moment. “I agree with the captain,” she found herself saying. “I've spent the last two years learning the sort of trust and friendship that exists between those of good hearts and minds. I believe I recognize it when I see it.”

To her surprise, James and the other humans blushed a bit at the words she and Starbuck spoke. They're humble in their own way, Twilight thought as the elder McKenna shifted to sit more upright. “I thank you for your trust. I know it cannot be easily given, and for that we shall treat it with all the respect it deserves.”

“And on that note, I think it would be best if we adjourned again,” Twilight said, and then grinned sheepishly as her stomach growled audibly.

Everyone else around the table grinned back at her, and James even chuckled. “Indeed, it's grown late and I haven't eaten all day,” the human said.

“Yeah,” Griffin added. “I'm so hungry I could eat a-” She abruptly stopped then, and her blush grew a bit. “Er, a lot.”

“What do you eat, by the way?” Twilight asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. “You look so different that I can't help but wonder.”

“Uhm,” James temporized, and once again Twilight was surprised as all of the humans became instantly uncomfortable. “Well, fruits, vegetables, that sort of thing,” the human leader said somewhat nervously.

“Grains,” Schneider added. “Lots of grains. Wheat mostly.”

Off to the side Melissa sighed dramatically, and she shook her head as everyone turned his or her attention to the younger McKenna. “Dad, just tell them. They're going to find out eventually.”

“Tell us what?” Starbuck asked, confused.

A small gasp left Twilight's throat just then as her mind finally made the connections. “You're omnivores,” she said, looking at the humans in a new light.

“What's that mean?” One of the lieutenants standing next to Starbuck asked.

The mayor was the second to gasp as she recognized the title. “They eat meat,” she said in horror. Her words made the guard ponies tense up and then snap their heads to look at the humans in surprise and a bit of suspicion.

Twilight felt like doing the same, until a memory of the walk into town imposed itself upon her mind. “James,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “You said that where you're from, animals don't talk?”

The elder McKenna nodded to the lavender unicorn. “They don't. Point of fact, most animals in our reality don't think or talk at all. They're not like you, they're more like... living machines, programmed to stay alive and procreate, but don't really do anything else beyond that.”

“Well, that's not entirely true,” Schneider interjected. “There are some animals that display intelligence and thought and feelings.”

“But those aren't the ones we eat,” Melissa hastened to add. “We only eat the really, really stupid ones, the ones that are like how my dad said; just living machines, unthinking and very stupid.”

“Animals here aren't quite like that,” Starbuck said cautiously. “Even the smallest creatures have some sort of intelligence and are willing to live with us, or at least work with us.”

“Not so where we come from,” James replied evenly. “We have animals that work with us, but they are a minority. Most of them are at least too dumb to understand or work with us and just bumble about. Others actively steal from us to take our food. And some are just plain dangerous and try to hunt us like we were the animals.”

“Be that as it may, you do know you cannot just go eating animals here willy nilly,” Starbuck said. “They have families and friends and such.”

“Oy,” Schneider said, reaching up to rub his face with a hand. “There go my dreams of a nice, fresh porterhouse.”

“Ixnay on the orterhousepay,” James muttered to his subordinate and friend, before he turned to nod at the pegasus captain. “I understand. I'll make sure my crew knows that the local wildlife is off-limits to hunting.”

“You can live without meat, right?” Twilight asked, more curious now than worried.

James shrugged. “We can, but we're not made for it. Our bodies require certain proteins and other nutrients that are only found abundantly in meat and other animal products, not to mention the fact that meat contains many more calories per gram than any plant. We can survive off of an all-plant diet, but it weakens our bodies and can cause medical issues later in life.”

““Other animal products”?” Twilight asked, tilting her head in thought. “What do you mean by that?”

“Stuff like eggs, milk, cheese, that sort of thing,” James replied. “They can make up for not having meat in our diet. It's not as satisfying, but it will do.”

The other ponies in the room quivered a bit at the word "satisfying", but Twilight found herself grinning a bit. “Well, no worries there. We actually use eggs and milk and cheese in our diet as well.”

“Really?” Schneider asked, his face perking up, and the other humans matched his improved expression. “Well, that's not so bad then.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Starbuck commented. “So you won't be abducting any innocent being to consume it?”

“Of course not. Not unless you tell us it's too stupid to live, anyway,” James replied with a shrug. “However, you should know we do have frozen and preserved meat stored in our ship,” he added carefully. “As I said it is from the dumb livestock back home, so you don't need to worry about it being from something that said goodbye to its kid before it became a sandwich.”

“Are you always so callous?” The mayor asked, her face showing disgust.

“If I seem that way, ma'am, it's only because this is a non-issue to most humans,” James patiently replied. “We eat meat. The animals we get that meat from aren't sapient, heck they're not even sentient. They're just machines made out of flesh rather than metal, and when they die it's not so much a tragedy as just another thing that happens on a work day.”

“Besides, mayor,” Melissa interjected. “How do you think the plants you eat feel when you cut them up and serve them in a salad?”

“B-but plants don't feel!” The mayor replied.

Melissa shrugged. “Says you, but then you can't talk to plants to find out, now can you? Just like we can't talk to animals back home. But plants are living creatures, ma'am. Just like us, you must kill and consume another living thing in order to survive. Sure, animals have faces and move and make noises, but the ones we eat aren't much more intelligent than a plant. And frankly, there are some plants that are smarter than a lot of animals.”

“In any case,” James began with a raised voice to gather attention to himself. “The fact remains we don't eat people. We won't eat ponies, we won't eat any animal in this world, unless an expert on it can attest to us that it's not intelligent in any real fashion. We will however eat what we brought with us, though I will do what I can to make sure that we don't do it where ponies can see it.” He paused then to sweep his gaze across the gathered ponies before settling on Starbuck. “Does that sound fair to you, captain?”

Starbuck thought this over for a few moments. Eventually, though, he nodded. “Fair enough,” he said, the tension gone from his voice. “And truth be told there are some troublesome creatures in the Everfree Forest you're welcome to if you can kill them.”

“Captain!” The mayor exclaimed.

“Although you might want to wait for an expert on that, as well,” Twilight quickly interjected. “I know of at least one being in the Everfree Forest who's quite intelligent and, as you say, “sapient”.”

“Then we shall keep our weapons safe'd until we know in absolute certainty that the creature we face is not intelligent,” James replied with a nod to the unicorn pony.

“Thank you, commander,” Twilight said.

“You are most welcome,” James replied. He then stood up slowly, stretching his legs and back as he became erect, his bones snapping into place. “Oh man, I was sitting there too long,” he said as everyone else who had been sitting also stood. “If there's nothing else, I think some filled bellies will make us all less belligerent.”

“Agreed,” Starbuck replied. “I'll write up my report after dinner, so I would suggest yours should be done about that time as well.”

“Very well,” James said. “Now that's settled, let's go eat.”

Twilight Sparkle remained in quiet thought as the meeting broke up and the various participants walked outside. Part of her insisted that she should be scandalized and wary of the humans for their eating habits, yet the remainder of her felt acceptance as many animals in her world consumed meat to live. Part of her even was morbidly curious at how a civilized being would go about preparing meals and recipes for meat, and despite the queasiness these thoughts brought her Twilight continued to muse on them. Until, that is, she finished descending the steps to the town square and was startled by a multi-colored blur that raced in to hover before her.

“Twilight, how's it going?” Rainbow Dash asked, her expression cocky as ever.

Twilight blinked at the sudden interest, and she shrugged. “Well, it was an interesting-”

“Yeah yeah, that's nice. Listen,” Dash interrupted, clearly unconcerned about the recent meeting. “What is that thing over there and how does it fly?” The pegasus asked, pointing a foreleg towards the mercenaries' helicopter still sitting in the square. Several braver ponies had come out and were standing around it, looking over the strange machine and talking to one another.

Fortunately for the unicorn, the humans had come out behind her and the other ponies, and Melissa walked over as she overheard the conversation. “That is a Ferret scout helicopter,” she began as she stood next to Twilight, her body language as confident as Dash's. “And it flies rather well, thank you.”

Rainbow flapped her wings a bit harder for a moment so she could look into the human's eyes from the same height. “Oh yeah? I don't see any wings on it.”

“They're right there,” Melissa said, and pointed to the top of the machine where the odd spars jutted out, each drooping down now that they weren't moving.

“Uhh... what?” Dash asked, her face a study in confusion. "Those don't look like wings.”

“Well, they're not wings per se,” Melissa said, and then shrugged. “The technical term is “airfoil”. They're shaped to provide lift like your wings are, though since it's a machine we use engines rather than muscles. Most aircraft used fixed or sometimes variable geometry wings, relying on forward movement to create lift. But a helicopter is a rotary-wing aircraft that spins its airfoils around to generate lift and thrust, allowing for vertical landings and takeoffs.”

Both of the ponies near her gave the human odd looks, though after a moment Twilight's expression brightened. “Ohhh, of course! A wing surface generates lift by shaping the air to reduce pressure on one side when it moves through the air. But there's no reason it has to be moved through the air in a straight line! Brilliant!”

“Twi, you understood all of that?” Dash asked, astounded. She then frowned when the lavender unicorn nodded back. “I don't get it. It sounds like a bunch of egghead to me.”

Melissa sighed at that. “I suppose you take flying for granted, since you were born to it,” she said, sounding almost wistful. “But people like me had to learn it the hard way in machines like that Ferret, or in fixed-wing trainers. You tend to pay more attention to learning something when it's not handed to you on a silver platter.”

Dash turned to the human and puffed herself up a bit. “Hey now! I may have been born with wings but I had to learn to fly like every other pegasus!” She said, her tone indignant. “And "the hard way"? You try actually flying with your body instead of using machines to do all the work for you.”

Melissa narrowed her eyes at that, and just stared at Dash for a few moments. The cyan pegasus finally realized who and what she was talking to, and she slowly settled to the ground. “I don't know who you are,” Melissa said in a quiet voice that was laced with silent threat. “But you don't seem to understand the difficulties of flying that exist to beings born without the ability. I'm sure you worked hard to be a good flier yourself, and I don't begrudge you that. But I would ask for you to give me the same courtesy. I worked my rear end off to learn how to fly when I was specifically born unable to do so, and I don't like anyone calling my dedication into question.”

“Melissa,” a voice said from the side, and the small group turned to see James walking over. “We're probably going to spend the night here. Why don't you take the Ferret back to the Steel and grab our field kits?”

“Mom's not going to like that,” Melissa replied, her voice strained from earlier but respectful. “She's already had Mei start plotting a short hop to get the Steel over here.”

James smiled a bit at that. “That's probably a good idea,” he said, nodding. “But tell her it will have to wait until tomorrow. Right now I think all of the locals have had enough excitement for one day. I don't think them seeing an eighty meter ball of battle steel descending on a pillar of plasma fire will be calming to their state of mind.”

Melissa chuckled lightly at that. “Okay, anything else while I'm on my run?”

“MREs,” James replied, his voice flat as he glanced to the ponies standing near them.

“Right,” Melissa said with a nod, understanding his unspoken meaning. “I'll make sure to leave them in the box,” she added, and then turned to confidently stride off to the helicopter.

The trio watched her go for a moment before James turned to give Dash a look. “I would appreciate it if you try not to antagonize my daughter,” he said evenly, and then grinned. “She takes after her mother, after all, and neither are the kind of woman you want to have angry with you.”

“Yeah, well, she didn't need to be so mean,” Dash protested, though her heart wasn't in it.

“Dash, she was only telling you how much more she had to study to learn how to fly since it doesn't come naturally to her,” Twilight joined in. “Sort of like how you've had to give some help to Fluttershy over the years.”

Rainbow blushed at that, and her face fell at the mention of the yellow pegasus. “Yeah, okay,” she said, her voice low as she picked a spot on the ground to stare at. “I guess I overreacted a bit.”

“Just a bit,” Twilight agreed.

“To be fair, Melissa didn't exactly cover herself with glory, so to speak,” James interjected. “You have my apology for that, miss Dash. I suspect being sensitive about your flying abilities is something you two have in common.”

Twilight chuckled at that, and even Rainbow cracked a smile. Until, that is, the unicorn spoke up again. “Speaking of Fluttershy, how is she?” The unicorn asked, hoping to move onto a less sensitive topic.

Unfortunately, though, Dash's expression became even more downcast as she looked up at her friend. “She's really bad,” the pegasus began. “The fight today made her all paranoid. She screamed at Rarity, told us all to go away before curling into a ball in a corner of her living room. I... I'm worried about her, Twilight.”

Sparkle froze for a moment as her friend's words registered. “She wouldn't listen to you?” She asked.

“No. Just freaked out when Rarity tried touching her,” Rainbow Dash replied. “We left after that. It didn't seem like we were helping at all being there, even making it worse somehow. I think Pinkie said she was going to talk to that Ivan guy, though.”

“Might not be the best time,” James muttered. “I'll go off and see if I can't convince those two to wait a day. It'll be better for-”

The beginning of a loud whine interrupted James then, and the small group turned to see the Ferret's turbine engines spooling up. The rotor started moving seconds later, and soon the helicopter was rising into the air amidst its usual noises. Fortunately the spectators who had been crowding around it had been chased off by Melissa and no pony was hurt as the downdraft from the rotors increased and the helicopter took to the sky.

Twilight felt a sense of awe as she watched the vehicle ascend, knowing as she did that it used no magic whatsoever. She wondered what powered the device and decided to ask Melissa about it later. For now, though, the unicorn simply watched as the angular helicopter lifted up and retracted its landing gear, eventually reaching a good hundred or so feet off the ground. The craft pitched forward at that and started to move, slowly at first but gaining speed as the pilot slowly banked it to make a wide circle to its left, eventually leveling out on a course directly away from the town hall.

“You have to admit that's impressive enough,” Twilight found herself saying to the pegasus at her side.

Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Maybe. It's not bad,” she allowed, though Twilight noted her friend never took her eyes off the machine as it soared northward. “Hey, is she coming back?”

Twilight looked back to the helicopter as it made another turn and angled down towards the square again, picking up speed. The two friends suddenly tensed as the Ferret angled down enough that it started losing altitude as it approached, looking as if the machine was about to crash right into them.

At the last moment, though, the Ferret yanked its nose high and banked hard to the left, redirecting its lift and shifting its momentum. For a moment the craft looked as it if were balancing on its rotor as it pirouetted in the sky above the square, but soon enough the two-hundred seventy degree turn was over and the Ferret leveled out as it accelerated westward towards the Everfree Forest.

The helicopter had barely disappeared beyond the rooftops when Twilight finally remembered to breathe again. A quick glance around the square showed a large number of ponies in similar conditions of near panic, though when she looked to the pegasus on her right, Twilight saw that Rainbow had a look of surprise and even a bit of admiration.

James broke the silence, sighing in relief. “That, dear ponies, is what we call "proving a point,"” he said, and then shook his head. “Again, please don't antagonize my daughter. She gets a little crazy when she's mad, and her flying gets more reckless.” With that he turned and started walking away. “I'll see you later after I make sure Ivan and Pinkie wait a bit before talking to your friend,” he said over his shoulder.

The two ponies sat there for a moment before Twilight cleared her throat. “Well, I think I'm going to get some dinner at the Clover Café. Want to join me, Dash?”

“Huh?” Rainbow asked, blinking as she looked over to her friend. “Oh, sure,” she replied, and then followed as Twilight trotted off towards the café. “Hey, Twilight?”

“Yes?” The unicorn asked, glancing to her friend.

“...I don't suppose you could explain to me how that thing flies?” Rainbow asked, a sheepish look on her face. “Even if it is in egghead.”

Twilight chuckled at joke. “Well, I'm not sure where they get the power from, but I can explain the general principles, even in non-egghead terms.”

Chapter 10 - Stories

View Online

Occupied Zone
Manehattan, Equestria
September 17th AD 3070/1023 RC

Thompson sat perfectly still and tried not to let the fear he felt show on his face as Garth O'Connell angrily paced back and forth in the main briefing room aboard the Red Skye. “So let me reiterate one more time to make sure I understand,” the Desperadoes' commander said in a clipped voice as he continued to pace. “You were engaged by two 'mechs, and you retreated instead of concentrating your fire?”

“As I explained before, major, they took out Vang before we could even think about rallying,” Thompson replied with a calmness he didn't feel.

“Yes, and then your heaviest weapon platform was taken out by one – just one – of those flying horses?”

“Actually, Ramirez was distracted by it and fell in a lake,” Thompson added. “I'm not sure what happened after that but when her comm beacon went offline I assumed the worst and decided to retreat with the knowledge I had of McKenna's forces.”

“Of which you saw only two mediums,” O'Connell snapped. “One of which was an Assassin, with armor barely better than yours.”

“With all due respect, sir, that was a custom job,” Thompson replied, trying to keep his voice steady and without the anger he felt rising. “My BattleROM clearly shows that Wes' one hit on its chest did nothing but scrape the plating.”

“Which you didn't know at the time,” O'Connell pointed out as he stopped his pacing to stare at the lieutenant. “Your obligation should have been to join with your lancemate and attempt to encircle the enemy. Even a custom Assassin couldn't have had much in the way of rear armor.”

At this Richard balked, and he lowered his head down a bit in shame. “Maybe so,” he admitted, his voice low.

For his part, O'Connell remained silent for a moment. Then with a grunt, he resumed speaking. “After that, you made your way clear into the forest, and then those fliers attacked you?”

“Yes sir,” Thompson replied, looking back up at his commanding officer. “They dropped about three dozen of those slugs. Two hit because I couldn't maneuver as well in the forest.”

“So the ROM shows,” O'Connell observed. He fell silent again in thought for a few moments, and then shook his head. “I can't say I'm happy with your performance, lieutenant. You got your lance shout out from under you and didn't give anything back to the enemy. The only thing you did right was getting the information to me, and frankly your lance being overdue would have done the same thing.

“Still, I don't see any gross incompetence,” O'Connell allowed. “But you won't be going out in a unit again anytime soon. You're being reassigned to rearguard, once we're done refitting the armor damage on your Spider. When we march on the enemy capitol you'll remain to guard our LZ.”

“Understood, sir,” Thompson replied evenly. Inside, though, part of him cringed as the contract of employment he signed indicated that rearguard duty would only receive base pay; no combat bonus for him. Not that such things mattered much at the moment, but whether they stayed on this world or found a way back to their reality, rearguard duty would guarantee that any spoils they gained would not be his to partake. For the first time since landing, though, Thompson felt doubt about their inevitable victory.

“One thirty actuator wrench!”

“One thirty!” Trixie called back, even as she strained with the effort of levitating the heavy, meter-long metal tool up to where the tech who had called for it was working. The platform he stood on was easily four meters above the decking in the Red Skye's lowest 'mech bay, and sadly it had no room for the heaviest tools that 'mech technicians used on a regular basis. Before Trixie had come along, the techs had used a pulley system to lift such things, but it was cumbersome and slow, and so the blue unicorn found herself acting as little more than a magical mule, lifting and lowering all day long.

Part of her resented that. Clearly such a talented and magnificent unicorn such as the Great and Powerful Trixie should be doing something of far more importance than mere earth pony work! Yet even as she did that work, Trixie had taken a moment here and there to look at the other work parties, and noted with some surprise and satisfaction that there were humans doing similar work as she was, simply lifting and moving heavy things for others. In a way, it's almost like being an apprentice, she thought.

“Hey, watch it!”

The voice from above startled Trixie, and she nearly panicked as she saw the wrench slipping sideways. She quickly refocused her concentration to regain control from her temporary distraction and lifted it up the rest of the way. “Sorry!” She called out once the human had taken the heavy tool and she released her telekinetic grasp.

“Just pay more attention next time,” the man grunted out, his voice showing clear irritation. Trixie simply nodded in reply, but by then the human had turned back to the arm of the Hatchetman he was working on.

The unicorn had only been working for little more than a day, spread out across half of yesterday and the current morning, yet she had already started to memorize various names and procedures, and Trixie felt a bit of pride remembering the name of the machine she was assisting with. Of the tools and procedures, those were more ingrained due to her survival instincts, which tended to trigger every time one of the humans start to get more than mildly cross with her. Meat eaters are not the kinds of creatures you want angry at you, the blue unicorn thought as she waited patiently for more instructions.

It most definitely feels like an apprenticeship, Trixie thought, trying to move her mind beyond the disturbing idea of omnivores. Just like my time with Hoofini. Thinking of her old mentor brought back memories, some pleasant, others less so, but Trixie welcomed them all nonetheless. She had been such a curious little filly, always wanting to know how things worked, how they were put together and what happened when pony-built machines were set into motion. Her curiosity was matched by a short attention span, however, and so she had drifted aimlessly in her studies, picking up topic after topic, and then dropping them when she became bored.

Then one day, the Glorious Hoofini had come into town and her parents took her to his show. Like most fillies and colts, she had been awed by the amazing tricks and illusions, but unlike them she had wanted to learn how they had been done. Following the act Trixie had asked her parents about it, but they admitted that magicians kept their tricks secret so that they could keep making a living off of it.

Trixie, though, did not want to accept that, and so she had gone up to Hoofini the very next day at the hotel he was staying at and asked him how the tricks were done. He had laughed and patted his hoof on her head and told her the only ponies who were told the tricks were the assistants and apprentices to magicians. Undeterred, the filly had asked to be an assistant so she could learn the tricks, but Hoofini pointed out that he did not have any; his was a one-pony show. Then she had asked to be his apprentice, and he had told her that she was too young to do so without her parents' permission, and then sent her on her way. Returning home, Trixie had been downtrodden, and after being questioned about it she had told her parents about the whole situation.

For most fillies, that would have been the end of it, but Trixie had set her mind on learning those secrets. So she bugged her parents to take her back every night while Hoofini was on stage, and when they refused on account of the cost Trixie had gone out herself and tried to sneak into the theater, sometimes trying several times a night, but at every turn getting caught.

Her parents eventually had enough, and they went to talk to Hoofini about an apprenticeship for their daughter. Much to Trixie's surprise, the magician had relented and began to show her the inside of the profession. The blue unicorn blushed as another, later memory came up of an older Hoofini telling her that her parents had merely spoke to him of their daughter's wandering attention, and asked him to teach Trixie a simple card trick or two until she got bored and moved on. He had agreed since he was staying in town for another week anyway, and it never hurt to keep things friendly with the locals.

Much to his surprise, though, Trixie had been rather intense, and even the unicorn filly had realized that the study of illusion and sleight-of-hoof fascinated her like no other subject. The faux apprenticeship had turned into a real one, and during that time Trixie had earned her cutie mark as well as developing into a fine showmare herself.

Or at least, I had been. The memory of her last show in Ponyville still grated on her nerves, despite it being almost a year into the past. Those stupid foals, that grandstanding unicorn! Her anger boiled up again as if the indignity were still fresh. Everything I had, everything that Hoofini gave me when he retired, all of it gone, destroyed by their indifferent insolent ignorance!

“Trix!” The tech called out from above, and Trixie shook herself from her reverie at the annoying nickname the humans insisted on using. “Take the wrench down, then take a break. I can do the rest myself. Be back in a half hour, though, so we can start on Thompson's Spider.”

“Understood, Reggie,” Trixie called back, and then concentrated on the large actuator wrench she had so recently lifted up. Perversely, the downward portion almost felt harder, as she had to fight against her own instincts to just drop the thing and be done with it. But no, even those giant, twenty-pound tools were carefully calibrated, and one drop could ruin it. A slap to the face at the mere suggestion had straightened that out with the unicorn. Thus she carefully lowered it until it was safely resting in the giant, wheeled toolchest the size of two ponies that she had also been required to haul around, albeit with a simple harness this time. Apparently it had been motorized at one point, but had broken down and never been fixed. When she asked about this all Trixie got was some muttering about “money issues” and an instruction to get back to work.

Fortunately, work could wait for the moment as she had permission to have a break. Once the actuator wrench was safely back in its padded slot, she took a look around to make sure nothing large and heavy was coming and then trotted towards the outer doors. Another glance showed her that the ramp was clear, and she quickly moved down it, intending to head towards the small mess tent the Desperadoes had set up for the various outdoor teams.

Part of her rebelled at the idea of eating there, as the humans regularly had meat and weren't afraid of showing it. At the same time, they served plenty of vegetables, fruits and grains, and those were what Trixie needed if she wanted to stay strong and working. Truth be told, she had very little problem with eating next to the omnivores, even when they were munching on some poor beast's flesh. She had been so hungry these past few months that she had learned to ignore more unsavory things than that as she scrounged through Manehattan's streets.

Gregory Kilroy walked easily across the grass of the park, careful to avoid the deep pockmarks where 'mech feet had compressed the earth. He was in a relatively light mood, as O'Connell had someone else to viciously tear into to calm his nerves, and the forced labor teams were performing much better under their new leader. Stronghoof had done all he promised and then some, and already the makeshift landing strip was starting to take shape as elm and oak trees were ripped down.

I guess even Garth can have a good idea or two, Kilroy mused as he approached the outside mess tent. According to the chief tech that unicorn thing's working out, as well. Even Carver is happy enough with that creepy green pegasus. Can't see why; she doesn't hit half what she aims for, despite her boasts. Ah well, I'll take what we can get.

He continued to mull over the ponies who'd thrown their lot in with them, as well as the new recruits that were trickling in. Fortunately he had set up someone else to take over the duty of orientating them and finding jobs, even if there were only a precious few who were willing to shift allegiances. Truth be told, he was starting to feel better because of them, as that gave him hope the battalion could receive reinforcements from the local population. Especially if we win the next big fight.

O'Connell's attack plan was sound, Kilroy knew, but McKenna's sudden appearance had thrown a wrench into the works. They had been scheduled to move out tomorrow, but now the major had called it off until the airstrip was completed and they moved their fighters out of the Red Skye to provide cover. And we stop doing anything operation-wise 'til every 'mech is dialed in. It felt wrong to Kilroy, to wait like this when his instincts told him that McKenna would be preparing to fight them somehow. That man isn't an idiot. He's going to see like us that we either have to win now at full force or drag this out into a long slogging war. One we won't win unless we can show the locals a victory of such magnitude they'll have no recourse but to accept our control.

What they needed right now was numbers of auxiliary troops to augment the battalion and fill out the soft spots an all-'mech force had. No matter how much the BattleMech had become the “king of the battlefield”, the so-called “queen of the battlefield” remained infantry, especially in close-quarters environments where the shorter range of man-portable weapons was unimportant, and cover existed to protect them from a 'mech's guns and missiles. Even worse, of course, were the specially-trained anti-BattleMech infantry platoons who could rush a 'mech to plant satchel charges in articulation points and cripple it in seconds, despite the sheer number of losses such an action would inflict on the attackers.

I doubt these ponies could do something like that, Kilroy mused with a snort. One generally needs hands to climb up the side of a 'mech and stuff a charge in a knee joint. Still, they can carry heavy things, and maybe we could rig up a recoilless rifle or two, once we figure out how to build them. Fortunately, the technology for those reliable weapons was well understood, though how ponies would fire them evaded Kilroy at the moment. He shrugged at that and just continued on towards the mess tent, deciding that lunch would help his mind mull over the problems the Desperadoes faced.

Soon enough he stepped inside and paused for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the lower light level and also to take in the enclosed space. In it was the small field kitchen, a series of tables, and a few dozen men and women. Interestingly enough, it also contained a recruited local, one whom Kilroy was not likely to forget anytime soon, as the bruise on his forehead would attest to. Still, he wasn't a terribly vindictive man, so he gave himself a mental shrug and went to get whatever the kitchen was serving that day. Now if I thought she had done it on purpose, yeah, I'd want to wring her little neck and see how much effort it takes to snap it, he mused darkly.

Alright, that's enough Greg, he told himself as he collected the serving tray filled with a variety of foods, none of which looked at all appealing. Snapping a neck for even an intentional bruise is a bit much. Though a session with my fists would definitely be warranted.

Kilroy forced his thoughts to move on as he went to eat his lunch off by himself. And I was having such happy thoughts earlier, he sarcastically mused while he worked on the meal. All the what-ifs that plague a mercenary command on an unfamiliar planet, even more so when one doesn't even share the same history or even species as the inhabitants.

The thought of history brought up some old memories, and Kilroy pondered through them as he ate while a new idea formed in his head. Funny, powerful nations tend to develop enemies, even when they're not trying. This place has been peaceful for a long time, long enough to not even have a real army. Does that really say how different this world is, or does it say how very powerful this land is compared to its neighbors? And if that power is shattered, how many of those neighbors are more than willing to take advantage of it?

Greg admitted he didn't know the local situation, but fortunately he knew someone who did. Slowly, he stood up and picked up his half-eaten meal and made his way over to the table where the unicorn stood munching on a baked potato and some buttered green beans. These ponies may not eat meat but they suck down the animal fat like the rest of us. I wonder if that means they can eat meat, but just choose not to? Kilroy pushed the idle thought aside as he pulled out a chair across from Trixie and sat down, placing his meal on the table. “Good morning,” he said, keeping his voice mildly polite.

The blue unicorn blinked her eyes in surprise and not a little fear as the human settled in across from her. “G-good morning, captain,” she managed to speak, stuttering slightly. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“A bit of curiosity,” Kilroy said as he took up a plastic fork and jabbed it on his own green beans. “How much do you know of the geography of this nation of yours?”

Trixie frowned slightly as she thought over the question. “I'm not certain what you mean, captain,” she said cautiously. “Although I possesses many skills, map-making is not one of them.”

“I didn't quite mean that,” Kilroy said after he had finished chewing a bite. “What I mean specifically is what do you know about any other nations that border this Equestria of yours?”

Trixie took a bite of potato and pondered over the captain's request as she chewed. “I mainly traveled inside Equestria, so I know little of outside nations other than stories I've heard from the border towns I visited.”

Kilroy grunted to himself at that. “Any of them known for being hostile, or even less than enthused with your ruling monarch?” He asked as he absentmindedly cut a piece of meatloaf, and then popped it into his mouth after speaking.

Trixie gave the human a brief look of disgust, but was quick to cover it up with an expression of practiced calm. Kilroy noted it and realized the source was the meat he dined on, but declined to take offense as he listened to the unicorn's reply. “The griffon tribes on the northern borders have never been friendly with ponies in general, if that's what you mean. A few of them are quiescent enough, but most still harbor resentment at the princesses for halting their hunting of ponies for food. Apparently, we are a delicacy to them,” Trixie explained, and then shuddered involuntarily. “I met one griffon from a non-hostile tribe as she flew through Equestria some time ago, apparently to meet a friend. Even the so-called 'friendly' ones are still very aggressive and don't mind showing off the advantages they have over most ponies.” She didn't say – and given her tone, didn't have to say – that she didn't consider herself the inferior of any griffon.

A small smile slowly spread over Kilroy's face as he pondered that. “So, is that a fact?” He asked. “Seems to me that one princess is out of the picture, and the other is going to be preoccupied with us for a while. Seems to me that the griffons might take advantage of that,” the human wryly observed, and then waited as a light slowly grew in Trixie's eyes. She's a clever one, then; good, Kilroy thought as Trixie indulged in her own little grin.

“That is certainly a possibility, captain,” she said. “Especially if one was to give them a little encouragement.”

“Indeed,” Kilroy replied. “Which brings the question of just how one would give them that encouragement?”

“I think there might be a way or two,” Trixie said, her gaze growing distant as she thought. “Trixie- I mean, I know how to get messages sent over long distances using magic fire and a scroll. That griffon I met certainly mentioned a dislike for most ponies, save her one friend. If I can reach her, she can at least point me in the right direction even if she's not willing to persuade her tribe itself to move in.”

Kilroy grinned at that. “Trixie, I think you're starting to grow on me,” he admitted. “After lunch we're going to go talk to the major and see what we can do to get a little help.”

Trixie blushed a bit at the praise, but the second part of the human's words puzzled her. “Captain? You seem to have the situation well in hand. Why would you need help?”

Kilroy shrugged. “One thing to know about war, Trixie, is that you never, ever pass up the opportunity to overwhelm and overpower the enemy. The more force we use, the more we can hurt our foes, and the easier the victory.”

Trixie thought over these words for a moment, and then smiled like a cat with a canary. “Why captain, I do believe I understand that perfectly well. It is not so different from what I did in my shows.”

“In that case, it's a good thing we hired you,” Kilroy replied in an amused tone. “Now, what other stories have you heard?”

Ponyville, Equestria
September 17th

“Are ya sure this is safe?”

James raised an eyebrow as he looked down to the orange pony on his right. “As safe as moving thirty-six hundred tons atop a pillar of plasma flame can be, miss Applejack,” he replied evenly.

The earth pony gave the human a peeved look. “That don't sound safe at all, frankly,” she said in her curiously out of place drawl. “Sounds like somethin' Dash would come up with.”

“Hey there,” the cyan pegasus hovering nearby protested, drawing everyone's attention to herself. “I may take a few risks, but don't go acting like I'm the crazy one. Besides, you're the one who agreed to let them use your family's land.”

“And Ah'm startin' ta regret it,” Applejack grumbled.

James shot a dubious look to the pony. “Now miss Applejack, I don't see how you can be regretting anything if we haven't set up yet.”

“Ah know, Ah know,” Applejack replied with a sigh as she glanced around her property. The group stood on top of her family's main barn at the center of the farm, looking to the north where some empty fields owned by the Apple family remained fallow thanks to this season's crop rotation. “But this is mah family's whole livelihood and you're talkin' 'bout landin' a giant hunk of metal near it. Ah'm just worried, yanno?”

“That is certainly understandable, miss,” a fourth voice chimed in, and captain Starbuck ruffled his wings a bit to get a moment to think. “Though I'm sure if these humans can cross between worlds in these ships than landing them should be much easier.”

Usually, James thought, not at all willing to utter the word aloud. “In any case,” the human said, wanting to move the conversation onto less unsettling topics. “Captain Nguyen should be starting soon,” he said, bringing up his left hand to look at the chronometer strapped to his wrist. “In fact, in a bout five... four... three... two... one... Mark.”

At first nothing happened, and the three ponies gave the human a questioning look. James just shrugged to them. “Sound takes time to travel,” he said, and just as soon as he finished speaking a deep, reverberating rumble was heard coming from the direction of the Everfree Forest. A glance in the direction showed that there were several clouds floating over the forest, and all of them were suddenly glowing along their undersides. Then the humans' ship rose into the sky in the distance, its gray-painted bulk perched atop a pillar of brilliant, colorless flame that made any observer within miles turn his or her head to avoid going blind.

James held up a hand to block out the flames of the fusion drive so he could watch the Heart of Steel move along its preplanned arc. The ponies with him soon recognized the move and copied him with their hooves, and they stood – or in Dash's case, hovered – in awe as the DropShip flew upwards in an arc that brought it closer to Ponyville. More colorless flames sprouted from the Steel's sides as it reached the peak of its flight, causing the spheroid craft to redirect its engines even as their thrust started to decrease. By now the ship was much closer and the group standing atop the barn could feel the heat from the drive plume and a deep shaking in their bones from the noise as the Union-class ship came ever closer both to the ground and to the Apple family farm.

The fiery spectacle started to draw to an end as doors opened on the side of the ship and four massive landing legs emerged from their storage bays. James let out a small breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in, and he grinned to himself at his concern. Once a father, always a worrier, he half joked, half chastised himself as the Heart of Steel settled to the ground on its legs, and the massive rumble rapidly decreased, going from ear-splitting to a light whine within a second. The drive plume simultaneously disappeared, and a few seconds later, the radio on McKenna's belt beeped. “Dark Horse Actual,” the human answered after plucking the device up with his hand.

“Dark Horse Actual, this is Heart of Steel,” Nguyen's voice sounded through the speaker. “The transit was successful, no anomalies reported. Requesting permission to set condition: ground.”

“Permission granted, captain,” James replied, grinning as he looked to the ship. Although the distance was a good one and a half kilometers away, he knew that the diminutive spacer was watching him on the bridge through the Steel's exterior cameras and so he made sure to give her a nod. “Excellent work, Mei, a real textbook maneuver. My compliments to you and the crew.”

“Thanks boss,” she replied. “Although I think a bonus would be a better token of appreciation,” she added merrily.

James rolled his eyes, again making sure to face towards the ship. “I'm not made of C-bills, lady. I think y'all should be happy you ain't ground pizza because I spend money on keepin' that bucket of bolts running rather than meaningless fluff.”

“Yes sir,” the voice replied curtly, and James winced as he realized he'd come on a bit too harsh.

“Dammit, Mei, you really push my buttons, you know that?” He asked in an exasperated tone.

“But they're just sitting there, all red and shiny!” The Steel's captain chuckled at him.

James shook his head as he turned off the radio and then glanced to his immediate companions. “Good help is so hard to find these days, you know?” He asked them rhetorically.

“Ah know the feelin',” Applejack replied with a sideways glance to Rainbow Dash.

Fortunately the cyan pegasus missed it as she was too busy staring at the ship in the distance, a confused look upon her face. “How does it fly without wings?” She asked.

“Brute force,” James answered as he walked towards the ladder that gave the earthbound ponies and him access to the barn roof. “If you apply enough thrust for long enough, you don't really need wings to fly. Heck, the missiles our 'Mechs use only have fins for steering and stabilization; they don't provide any lift at all.”

Dash thought of this as she lowered herself to the ground, following the others as they descended the ladder. “So, if you go fast enough, you don't need wings?” She asked.

“Sort of,” James replied as he reached the ground and moved aside for the others. “It's not a matter of speed so much as it is a matter of thrust, which is different.”

“Alright, where's Twilight?” Rainbow asked, looking around. “I need an egghead to pony translation.”

“To tell the truth, Ah was wonderin' 'bout that myself,” Applejack replied. “Ah ain't seen her since last night when Ah came into town to check up on things. She was in her library reading that fancy eel-tronic book thing y'all gave her.” This last part was conversationally directed to the human in their midst.

Rainbow Dash sighed. “She probably stayed up too late again studying,” the pegasus surmised. “I'm going to go wake her up. She'll probably want to go look at that ship thing with you guys.” With that, Dash turned and accelerated off in the direction of Ponyville proper, leaving the group behind.

“Actually, that sounds like a good idea,” James said, wanting to move the conversation along. He gestured towards where the bulk of the Steel's upper half rose above the apple orchards that surrounded the farmhouse and barn and continued. “I'm sure you're curious, and in the interests of being open and honest I would not be adverse to having visitors aboard our ship.”

“To tell the truth, I was about to ask that myself,” Starbuck replied with a nod. “Both out of professional and personal curiosity, I'll admit,” he added with a small grin.

“Ah would like ta take a gander as well,” Applejack interjected. “Ah admit ta a bit o' curiosity too. Not ta mention if that thing's gonna be sittin' on my property Ah durn well want ta know what's in it.”

James nodded to the orange earth pony. “Fair enough, miss Applejack,” he said, and then waved a hand towards the ship. “Shall we?”

“Yeah!” A voice said behind the trio, startling them.

The human and two ponies spun around as fast as they could to find that another trio had sneaked up to apparently eavesdrop. James blinked in surprise as he saw that they were three, smaller ponies than the ones he had been dealing with up until now. “What the?” He asked, confused.

“Applebloom!” Applejack snapped off as she recognized her sister and her friends. “What do ya think y'all are doin' out here? Ah told y'all ta stay in the house!”

“Ya said ta stay there 'til the ship was down,” Applebloom replied, sounding only slightly contrite as she ground a hoof in the dirt while her friends gave soulful looks to the adults. “So we came out an' we heard y'all talkin' 'bout seein' the ship an' we wuz wonderin' if'n we could look too?”

“Oh dear God,” James said, his tone one of utter horror and seriousness. The ponies around him all turned to look at the human in mild alarm as his face twisted into an expression of shock. “They're adorable.”

“Ah, uh, er,” Applejack muttered, confused at James' reaction. “Okay?”

“She said okay, girls!” Applebloom announced from behind the orange pony, who spun around as the three fillies stood next to each other and raised their heads. Oh sweet potato pie, this is gonna hurt, Applejack thought as her ears folded back.

“Cutie Mark Crusader space ponies! Yay!” The trio of young ponies shouted, causing the three adults to wince at the volume. The fillies took advantage of this and quickly dashed past the others and headed into the orchard in the direction of the Heart of Steel.

“You git back here, consarnit!” Applejack shouted at the retreating forms. Alas, they either didn't hear her, or realized they were far enough away that they could pretend they didn't hear her, and thus continued running through the trees. “Why those sneaky little varmints,” the orange pony muttered in anger. A laugh at her side, though, brought Applejack's attention around to the human, and she gave him a harsh look. “Ya find this funny?”

“My wife and I raised three kids,” James explained as he brought his laughing under control. “So yes, it's hilarious.”

Applejack opened her mouth to give a hot retort, but she was beaten to the punch by Starbuck, who raised a hoof to interrupt her. “Perhaps we should delay the tour?” He asked, looking to the human. “That way miss Applejack can rein in the youngsters and avoid them causing problems.”

“I don't care either way,” James said with a shrug. “Like I said, we raised three kids, chiefly about the Steel. Trust me when I say we can handle a few kids, and in fact it would be fun to have some youngsters around again.”

Applejack gave James a look of utter incredulity. “You ain't met my sister and her friends. They're nuttin' but trouble when they set their minds on it.”

James just grinned back at her. “And you ain't met my kids when they were growing up. I could tell you stories about my son Richard and how he loved to sneak into the armory and play with the grenades. Scared the living sh- er, crap out of us, let me tell you. We did learn a thing or two about making the ship kid-safe, or at least as safe as a ship of war can be.”

Applejack stared at the human with a wary expression for a few moments before she spoke again. “Alright, but don't go bein' surprised at changin' your mind after those three git done with ya.”

“Perish the thought,” James replied as he started the small group on their walk.

A large crash and the sound of books hitting the floor brought Twilight Sparkle up from her unconscious stupor, and she glanced around her room at the library in panic. Her fear subsided as she saw nothing amiss, and her curiosity piqued as she heard voices coming from the main room. What time is it? The unicorn thought as she brought up a hoof to rub against her pounding forehead. I feel like I haven't slept in a week. A glance to the clock on her nightstand told her that half the day was gone already, and the unicorn's eyes snapped wide in shock. “Oh no! So many things to do, so much work and studying!” She said to herself as she climbed out of bed, barely managing to avoid entangling herself in the sheets. “Spike! Spliiiiike!” Twilight shouted as she ran over to her dresser and quickly took out a brush to begin combing her mane back into shape.

The door to her room opened just then, and her dragon assistant stepped into the doorway. “Oh good, you're awake!” He gaily observed.

“Yes, four hours late!” Twilight shot back, sparing a brief glance down at the dragon. “Why didn't you wake me?”

Spike shrugged at her. “Owlicious said you were up until five in the morning. Again,” he added he last word with a bit of reluctant acceptance. “I figured you needed the sleep.”

“I need to be up doing things more!” Twilight Sparkle retorted as she finished brushing her mane and then went to work on her tail. “And what was that noise I just heard?”

“Oh, Rainbow Dash just dropped in,” Spike explained, and then chuckled a bit at his play on words.

“Very funny, Spike!” A familiar voice said, and Twilight glanced to the door again as Rainbow stuck her head in above Spike. “Hey Twi. Wow, you look like a manticore was chasing you all night. Are you alright?”

Twilight sighed at her friends as she continued brushing her tail. “I was up late studying the books the humans gave me,” she said, her voice changing to one of joy and excitement as she continued. “It's so amazing, Dash! They have a whole library stored on tiny pieces of metal and plastic! It's like magic, but it only uses simple electrical current, mathematics, and the physical properties of matter itself!”

Both Dash and Spike gave the lavender unicorn looks of confusion. “That's simple?” The pegasus asked. “Anything with math doesn't sound simple to me.”

Twilight let out a small huff as she set her brush down and turned to descend the steps from her sleeping area to the floor of the backroom she'd taken as her bedroom. “Well, it's simpler than what would be needed to replicate the same effect with magic. A lot less strenuous on the user, as well,” the unicorn explained as she reached the floor and followed her fiends into the main room. “And the information density is beyond anything magic can do. At lower levels of reality, magic tends to start overwriting itself, but these humans have figured out ways to trick matter into holding information at levels that magic can only act as a brute force on.”

“Yeah,” Dash said, drawing the word out. “I'll pretend that made sense to me. Could we change subjects now?”

Twilight sighed again and rolled her eyes. “Alright Dash, I can tell you have a question. What is it?”

“What's the difference between "thrust" and "speed"?” The pegasus asked earnestly.

The lavender unicorn blinked hard at the sudden change of topic. “Shouldn't you have learned that in flight school?” Twilight blurted out without thinking.

Dash blushed at the question, and she slowly hung her head. “I, uh, kinda didn't really study when I was there. It's kind of why I dropped out,” she said, and then glanced up at Twilight who was still regarding her with a look of shock. Rainbow frowned at that and brought her head back up. “Hey, I'm a natural flier! I don't need to know all the fancy terms and math, I just do it!”

Twilight just shook her head at her friend. “You really should learn more, Dash. You might even find out how to do the really difficult tricks the Wonderbolts can do that you can't yet.”

Rainbow blushed again, and she glanced down to watch herself rub a hoof on the floor. Twilight bit her lip and decided to change tracks to keep from hammering her friend anymore. “Anyway, thrust is a measure of force applied in a specific direction, whereas speed is a measure of relative motion between two frames of reference.”

“Huh?” Dash asked, and even Spike looked confused as they turned their eyes onto the unicorn. “Frames of what now?”

Twilight's voice became excited again as she turned and waved her friends to follow her to the main reading table. “It's something I read up about last night. The humans have a scientific idea called "Relativity" that's absolutely fascinating and has all sorts of implications on not only science but the fields of magic, as well.” Twilight stopped in both movement and speech as she reached the table, and then used her telekinetic magic to pick up a slab of plastic material that had a large flat screen on one side. Concentrating a bit, she picked up a second object from the table and pressed the stylus against the touchscreen, causing the book reader to come to life. “And the most brilliant thing about it?” Twilight asked, turning the reader around to show a series of mathematical equations to her friends. “Is this,” she added, pressing the stylus again to magnify one equation in particular.

Both Dash and Spike squinted their eyes a bit at the unfamiliar text as they tried to decipher it. “What the hay is this?” Rainbow asked, confused. “That's all letters, I don't see any math at all.”

Twilight sighed again in frustration as she used moved the stylus to underline the equation. “That's because it's all variables. It reads into spoken language as "energy is equal to mass times the speed of light squared,"” she explained, and then tapped the screen with the stylus. “Do you know what that means? Do you understand how vastly, insanely important this tiny little equation is to understanding life, the universe, and everything?”

“Uh,” Dash muttered, and then glanced to Spike. The dragon returned the glance and gave the pegasus a shrug, which left Rainbow feeling a bit frustrated and so she decided to take a wild stab at it. “Is the answer forty-two?”

The room fell into a deep silence as the unicorn just stared at her friends for a few moments. Finally, she sighed yet again and just turned to set the book reader and its stylus on the table. “If it is, then I would have to try very hard not to panic,” Twilight replied, and then turned to face her friends again. “So anyway, back to your question. Speed is a measurement of how fast something is going relative to you. Thrust is how much force is being applied to move an object in a certain direction.”

“You mean sort of like how hard I flap my wings?” Dash asked, trying to understand the concept.

“Exactly,” Twilight replied with a smile. “So thrust and speed aren't the same thing, if you were wondering. Thrust is a way to build up speed.” Her smile faded as a new thought entered her head. “If you don't mind my curiosity, why do you ask?”

Rainbow shrugged her shoulders. “That McKenna guy talked about it when they moved their ship to AJ's farm a bit ago.”

Twilight's eyes widened at the offhand remark. “Wait, they did? Oh, I wanted to see it!” She added in a small whine. “What was it like?”

“Bright and loud,” Dash replied. “You couldn't even look at half the thing without getting blinded, and frankly Twi I'm surprised you slept through it. It should've shaken all of Ponyville when it landed.”

“It did,” Spike interjected. “I was wondering what that rumbling was. I almost went to wake up Twilight before it stopped.”

“In any case,” Dash continued. “We were wondering where you were, so I figured I'd come get you. I think McKenna was going to let some of us take a look through the ship if we wanted to.”

Twilight's expression brightened considerably at that. “What a great idea!” She said. Then her stomach rumbled, and the unicorn blushed and grinned sheepishly at her friends. “Uhm, maybe after I have breakfast?”

“Brunch is more like it,” Spike replied as he turned to walk towards the kitchen. “I'll make some hash browns and hay fries if you want.”

“That sounds good,” Twilight replied. “It will give me time to read more through the library I was given.”

Dash gave the unicorn a look, and then shrugged. “Well, okay. Maybe you could show me something else in it while we're waiting?”

Twilight grinned at her friend. “Oh, indeed. I think you'll find the articles on powered flight quite interesting.”

The trio of adults caught up with the fillies at the edge of the orchard, as the latter group had paused to watch as the Dark Horse's Ferret was rolled out along one of the ramps that lead to the Steel's interior. “Ain't that the thing that landed in the town square yesterday?” Applebloom asked in her accented voice.

“It sure is!” The little orange pegasus beside her replied. “Even Rainbow Dash had to go up and give it a close look! I wonder what it is?”

“That is a Ferret light scout helicopter,” James said, startling the three fillies.

The youngsters spun around and gave the newly-arrived adults a look of fear. “Uhm,” Applebloom started to say, but Applejack cut her off with a raised hoof.

“It's okay girls, mister McKenna here said it was alright if you look 'round with us. But only if you stay on your best behavior, understand?” The earth pony asked, casting a flinty gaze over the fillies.

“Yes ma'am!” The trio of youngsters replied, still a bit fearful but now with excitement starting to ooze out of their pores. “Oh boy, we'll get to see inside first!” The white unicorn in the group said eagerly.

“Yeah! Maybe we'll get our cutie marks for being the first to boldly go where no pony has gone before!” The orange pegasus replied. “Come on girls, let's go!” With that, the trio of fillies turned and raced off again, heading for the base of the loading ramp.

Applejack opened her mouth to call to them, but James held up a hand to ward her off. “Don't worry 'bout them,” he said as he started walking forward. “They won't get far.”

Scootaloo grinned maniacally as she led Applebloom and Sweetie Belle in their impromptu race. Part of her felt a bit afraid as she saw the humans moving the heli-something from the ship giving them odd looks, but she ignored them as the implacable confidence of youth told her that they wouldn't cause any problems. This confidence proved right when the trio of fillies reached the ramp and then started up it without pause or interference, and Scootaloo would have chuckled if she thought to spare the breath for it.

All of her amusement died, however, as another human appeared at the top of the ramp, right in the way of the racing ponies. Scootaloo barely had time to stamp her hooves down and slow to a stop a mere foot in front of the human, and seconds later she winced as Applebloom slammed into her, and then again as Sweetie Belle ran into the both of them and sent the trio of fillies into a brief tumble that ended with them in a pile at the human's feet.

“What in th' screaming blazes is going on here?” The tall, aged human asked with an accent that the girls had never heard before. “You there, little pony things, whod'ya think you are tae come racing up th' ramp into me work area?” He demanded, leaning down to give the fillies a close up look of his bearded, wrinkled face. “Ya trying tae be smashed into a pile o' scrapple?”

“Ease up, Drew,” a familiar voice said, and the girls turned their heads away from the frightening human to see McKenna, Applejack, and Starbuck walking up the ramp behind them. “They're just kids who got a bit excited, that's all.”

The older human snorted as he drew himself erect. “Well it'll behoove them tae learn not tae run into a ship's loading bay right after a landing! If this were a real military unit they'd already be squished underfoot by a parade o' 'mechs and tanks!” The elder human turned his head and spat over the side of the ramp to the ground. “I didn'ta live this long tae have me safe work record thrown tae the wind 'cuz o' a couple kids with more legs than brains!”

“Hey now!” Applejack blared upon hearing the insult. “Ya ain't gotta be rude 'bout it! That's mah sister you're talkin' 'bout!”

“What miss Applejack means to say is that the girls ain't dumb, and they've learned their lesson about running into dangerous areas without an escort,” James interceded, holding a hand towards the orange earth pony to indicate for her to hold her peace. He then looked over to where the fillies remained in a heap, still cringing a bit at the other man's fierce words. “Isn't that right, girls?”

“Yes sir, mister McKenna,” the trio replied as they slowly started to disentangle themselves. “We didn't know it was dangerous,” Applebloom added for them all.

The older human snorted again. “Typical kids,” he said, and then nodded to James. “If you're wanting tae be playing tour guide, sir, I won't stop ya. But please keep these lassies on a tighter leash, would ya? I've got Hermes comin' in to reload his rockets an' Tania after that tae get that wee scratch fixed up an' top off her ammo.”

“Sure thing, Drew,” James replied as he nodded back. “We'll be keeping to the upper decks for the most part, anyway. We'll come back this way after you've got Hermes and Tania squared away.”

“Fair enough,” Drew replied, and then popped a halfhearted salute to James. “Jus' keep th' rugrats away from me tools,” he added, and then turned and walked off into the ship.

“Who was that?” Starbuck asked, as confused as the other ponies at the odd exchange.

“He's Andrew McCoy, our unit's master technician,” James replied as he walked forward, waving the ponies after him as he spoke. “You'll have to forgive his personality quirks. He's over seventy years old and has spent most of that time working as a tech for various military and mercenary units, so he has a skewed view of the world.”

“I can't say I blame him at this moment,” Starbuck replied as the group moved into the cavernous 'Mech bay that formed the heart of the DropShip. They paused as their eyes adjusted to the different lighting, and then remained still as they looked around in awe.

The interior of the Heart of Steel was a typical one for her class, with a full third of the interior devoted to the ring of individual 'Mech cubicles, eight on the lower level alone. Each cubicle had its own support cradle, repair scaffolding, and heavy machinery, tools and equipment to support one of the most advanced machines humanity had created, and the sheer scope alone would be enough to drive into the locals' minds the differences between them and their visitors. Further cementing these thoughts were the five armored, bipedal war machines that stood secured for transport in their respective cubicle, all of them designed to evoke feelings of fear and danger from any who gazed upon them.

Naturally, of course, the fillies were enraptured. “Wow, look at that one!” Scootaloo said, pointing to one of the machines. “It looks like a bird without wings!”

“That's a Catapult,” James explained. “It's not an actual catapult, of course, that's just what the design is called because it serves a similar function: to bombard enemies from afar.”

“Cool,” Scootaloo said, even as Sweetie Belle raised a hoof and pointed to another machine. “Ooh, what's that one called?” She asked.

“That's our Centurion,” James answered, and then smiled. “He was my second 'mech, you know. Worked real good after I had the old Luxor autocannnon stripped out and replaced with a PPC and armor.”

A sea of confused faces looked up at him, and James blushed slightly under their gaze. “Ah, old history, sorry,” he said, and then turned to head for the lift he knew was located along the ship's inner bulkhead. “Anyway, I could recite you specs and designs all day, but you can learn those from a technical readout. Let me show you the rest of the ship so you can see how we live when in space or on a mission.”

Applejack and Starbuck shared a look of confusion but followed along regardless, while the fillies simply regained their earlier enthusiasm and quickly ran off to join McKenna as he reached the lift and pressed its call button. “Much of the interior appears to be devoted towards these 'mechs of yours,” Starbuck observed as the adult ponies caught up.

James nodded at the observation. “Yes. The Heart of Steel is a Union-class DropShip, and as such is designed to carry a full company of twelve BattleMechs and two aerospace fighters with attached support crew. They're not really made for anything more than that, as they were designed during the first Star League era and at that time the League generally favored their WarShips to be general-use craft.”

Starbuck tilted his head questioningly as the lift descended to the deck. “I thought you called this a ship of war?” He asked as the human pulled the steel mesh gate aside to open the way forward.

“It is, but it's a DropShip, which is a smaller kind of ship meant to land on a planet,” James explained as he waved the ponies onto the lift. The fillies practically jumped aboard, while Applejack and Starbuck moved onto the device more warily. “A WarShip is a much, much larger vessel that can make its own jumps between stars and carries huge weapons, and it can't land itself.”

“Can't land?” Starbuck asked curiously as James stepped aboard and closed the gate. “Then how are they built if not on a world?”

“Orbital shipyards,” James replied as he pressed a few controls and sent the lift rising. The ponies all looked around nervously as they felt the odd and unfamiliar sensation, but the calmness on McKenna's face helped keep them from feeling panic. “We build bases in orbit around a planet and then use them to build ships that are too big to land. Some of them are factories, too, that make some of the more advanced materials we use in building various machines.”

“Whoa, look how high we're getting,” one of the fillies – Scootaloo, I think I heard her called? James thought – pointed out as the lift passed the second level of the 'Mech bay, showing the tighter confines of the half-converted deck. Suddenly, the orange pegasus froze and then jabbed a hoof towards a vehicle sitting in one of the areas that had once been a 'Mech cubicle before James had it removed for more cargo space. “What is that?” She asked in quiet awe.

The human chuckled as he made out what had enraptured the small pony. “That's what we call a motorcycle. I don't know the exact model, but you can ask its owner all about it,” he said, and then looked over to Starbuck to offer an explanation. “I normally wouldn't bother to carry a personal vehicle around with us, but Earl, my Catapult pilot, insisted transport for it would be included in his contract. If he wasn't as nimble in that hunk of metal as he is on that bike, I'd have never signed him up. As it is...” He shrugged.

“I see,” Starbuck observed as the lift continued to rise. The view abruptly shifted from a large cavernous bay to a claustrophobic gray-painted corridor as they passed into the next deck and the elevator came to a stop. “I take it that as mercenaries you must compete for the better warriors?”

James nodded as he slid the mesh gate open and then stepped out onto the solid metal decking. “Yeah, you hit the nail on the head there,” he said as the ponies followed him out of the lift and down the hall. “Any command that wants good performance has to offer something extra to the men and women who can bring that sort of performance. I was lucky with Earl, he just wanted to take his bike along.”

“As opposed to you, who just drags along his over-aged carcass,” a new voice sounded as the group turned the corner of a T-junction and came face to face with a human the ponies hadn't seen before.

The new figure, a male dressed in a jumpsuit and boots, smiled at James as the latter crossed his arms in displeasure. “Earl, don't you have some baby kittens to go eat?”

The man, Earl Delacroix, laughed heartily at the commander's rejoinder. “Maybe tomorrow,” he said with a grin. “Right now I've got a patrol to run, or so your lovely wife has ordered.”

“In that case, you'd best get going,” James said, some of the joviality leeching from his expression. “Be sure to mind your steps and keep your channels open. Where are you headed?”

“Rebecca wanted me to take over from Alexis, so I'll be watching the northeast quadrant,” Delacroix replied evenly. “I think she plans to take a run out as well to spell Franz.”

James grumbled lightly at that. “I know I told that woman not to worry when we have excellent support from the captain's scouts,” he said, gesturing to Starbuck. Then he blinked and grinned sheepishly at the pegasus. “My apologies, captain. This is the man we were just talking about, Earl Delacroix. Earl, this is captain Starbuck, commander of the local forces in this town.”

“Captain,” Delacroix said, snapping up a quick salute that the pegasus returned. “Please forgive my lapse in ignoring you just now.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Starbuck replied easily. “Duty comes before pleasantries, after all.”

“Indeed,” Delacroix stated, and then looked over the other ponies. “And who else do we have here?”

“Name's Applejack,” the orange pony said after taking a cue from James. She tipped her hat up with a hoof and smiled politely. “Ah'm th' owner of the farm y'all landed on.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Delacroix said, and then looked down at the fillies. “And I take it these three are kids?”

“We're fillies, not kids,” Applebloom spoke up. “Mah name's Applebloom, these here are mah friends, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle,” she added, gesturing to the two other youngsters at her side.

“Oh my God,” a voice said from behind Delacroix just then, and the human started briefly before he turned to reveal Rebecca McKenna standing in the doorway he'd come through a moment before. “They're so cute!” She said as she clasped her hands together in glee.

“That would be my cue to leave,” Delacroix muttered as he pushed his way through the group occupying the intersection. “Before she starts squealing,” he added, under his breath as he passed James.

The male McKenna chuckled at that, and this turned into a brief laugh as he saw both Applebloom and Sweetie Belle beam at his wife's observation while Scootaloo sat on her haunches and mimed gagging, pointing a hoof at her open mouth. This didn't seem to faze Rebecca in the slightest, however, and she bent down to rub a hand through Scootaloo's mane. “Oh, you remind me of my Melissa when she was younger.”

“Ack, my mane!” The orange pegasus yelped before hopping back to take cover behind her friends. “It took me forever to get it styled like Dash's!” She added as she tried to smooth out the violet locks with her hooves.

The adults all shared a brief laugh at the filly's antics, and James stepped around the younger ponies to walk up to his wife and draw her into a hug. “I'm deliriously happy to see you again, 'Becca,” he said warmly.

“You should be,” she replied with a coy grin. “Now why are you playing tour guide?”

James shrugged as he broke the hug took a half step back. “Fair is fair, dear. We see their town, they get to see that we're not hoarding atomics or any silly thing like that.”

Rebecca nodded at that and then turned to face the visitors. “Miss Applejack, it's nice to see you again,” she said, crouching down to offer a hand.

“Likewise, Ah guess,” Applejack replied somewhat unsure as she reached out with a hoof to finish the greeting. “Ah don't mean anythin' by that, jus' Ah don't think we actually met before.”

“Not face to face, anyway. But I was the one speaking to you from my 'Mech when you came by yesterday to drop off Hermes,” Rebecca said as she released the hoof. She then turned and offered it to the other adult pony, who easily brought up his limb to reciprocate. “And you are?”

“Captain Starbuck, commander of the Ponyville detachment of the Royal Guards,” he introduced himself friendlily.

“Nice to meet you,” Rebecca replied as she regained her erect posture. “My daughter spoke well of you and your soldiers, and I'm looking forward to working together.”

“Likewise,” Starbuck said. “The commander has already mentioned that he has several ideas and I'm eager to hear them.”

“Uh-oh,” Applejack's voice cut in, and everyone in the group turned to see her pointing a hoof at where the Cutie Mark Crusaders had been standing a few moments ago. Now they were completely out of sight, and the orange earth pony looked vexed. “They dun ran off again.”

James sighed at that, and then turned to his wife, who was already grinning at him. “Really brings back the memories, doesn't it?” He asked her.

“Very much so,” Rebecca replied with a chuckle. “Mei called to tell me you were bringing guests, so the dangerous places are locked up.”

“Which means we have fifteen minutes to find them before they work around the locks,” James observed with a wry grin. “Alright, let's split up and go look for them. Applejack, I'd appreciate it if you were to come with me. Likewise, captain, if you'd go with my wife.” There were no disagreements.

The trio of fillies did their best to walk quietly down the strange-looking corridors of the ship, despite the disadvantage of having hard hooves that tapped loudly on the metal decking. They had soon realized that they had to keep their pace slow and their hooffalls light in order to remain stealthy, and so their pace was agonizingly slow, especially for Scootaloo who was in the lead. “Augh, we'll never find anything cool at this rate,” she grumbled in a low voice.

“Maybe we'll get our sneaking cutie marks?” Sweetie Belle offered gently from the middle of the trio.

“Didn't we already try that?” Applebloom muttered as she brought up the rear.

“What?” Scootaloo asked, stopping abruptly to turn around and face her earth pony friend. “Aren't you keeping track?”

Applebloom gave the pegasus a confused look. “I thought Sweetie Belle was keeping track?”

“But I thought Scootaloo was our official record keeper?” The purple maned unicorn said, as equally confused as her friends.

“Augh!” Scootaloo groaned, reaching up with her forelegs to drag her hooves down her face. “Are you telling me we've lost track of what we have and haven't tried to get our cutie marks?”

“Uh,” Sweetie Belle said as she and Applebloom shared a look. “Maybe?”

Scootaloo sighed in exasperation at that and then slammed her head against the wall in frustration. Or rather what she had thought was a wall, but instead turned out to be a door that opened slowly inward upon being impacted, revealing a darkened room beyond. Curious, the three fillies turned their attention to the room and leaned forward to try and get a better look. “Why's it all dark inside?” Sweetie Belle asked quietly.

“Maybe it's not being used?” Applebloom offered.

“Or maybe it's where they keep a disgusting pet alien or something,” Scootaloo said, her imagination already running wild.

Her two friends, however, just rolled their eyes at their more imaginative companion. “Oh c'mon Scoot, not everythin' is like those spooky stories ya like ta read,” Applebloom retorted.

Scootaloo opened her mouth to offer another argument, but any words she had died on her lips as the trio of fillies heard voices coming from the way they had come. “Oh no, they're looking for us already,” the orange pegasus said in a loud whisper.

“C'mon, let's hide inside!” Applebloom said, gesturing to the open door. Despite their misgivings, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo followed the earth pony into the room, whereupon they turned around and joined the yellow and red pony in closing the door most of the way shut, leaving just a tiny crack to let in a bit of light and sound. Through this crack the fillies kept watch on the corridor as the voices they heard grew louder, and the trio fell into fearful immobility as two figures walked in front of the door.

To their relief, both were humans they didn't recognize, and they all let out their nervously held breaths as the strangers continued on down the corridor. “Maybe they aren't looking for us yet after all?” Sweetie Belle offered in a tiny whisper.

“Maybe,” Applebloom allowed in an equally low voice. “How long d'ya think we should stay hiding ta make sure?”

“I'm not sure,” Scootaloo said, and then huffed. “And will you stop breathing on my back, Sweetie Belle?”

“I-I'm not behind you, Scoot,” the unicorn filly said, her voice suddenly very frightened.

That fear jumped straight into her two friends, and very slowly, they all turned their heads to stare into the darkness behind them. “Wh-who's there?” Scootaloo asked shakily.

The sounds of something moving in the dark drove them to the border of panic, and just before they lost their nerve a light clicked on. It was not a friendly overhead light, though, but a small one that shined upwards across a fearful visage half hidden by the harsh shadows cast by the light. “I hunger,” the face said in an unnatural voice, and then growled as a hand reached out for the three fillies.

“Well, at least they're not in the armory,” James observed, as he and Applejack left the secured room behind.

“And thank goodness fer that,” the orange earth pony spoke with a deep sincerity. “Last thing Ah want is fer them ta get hurt. Ah've seen the inside of the royal armory in Canterlot and that was dangerous enough. Can't say Ah find yours more impressive, but Ah'll be danged if Ah ain't a lot more scared of what your stuff does.”

James courteously nodded to the mare at his side as they walked down the corridor. “I can't say I blame you. A firearm is much easier to misuse than the kinds of melee weapons Starbuck told us y'all have.”

Applejack cast an odd look at James just then, and he returned it with a confused one of his own. “Something wrong?” He asked.

“Just that ya talk like me an' my kin at times,” Applejack replied. “It's kind of weird.”

“Oh, that,” James said, and he fought off a mild blush. “I grew up in a region of Terra where an accent like yours is common. It slips out from time to time, especially when I'm talking to someone like you, who sounds a lot like the people I grew up with.” He shrugged at that. “You can take the boy out of the south, but you can't-”

The unmistakable sound of high-pitched screams interrupted the human just then, and both he and Applejack jumped a bit at the sheer, ear-splitting volume of it. Surprisingly, the volume increased even more as the sources of the screams rounded a junction corner in front of the two adults and then careened off towards stairs that led up to the next deck. James barely had time to catch the blurred color of their coats before the Cutie Mark Crusaders disappeared up the stairs, though their screams lingered.

“Oh sweet Celestia, what happened?” Applejack asked, her eyes wide and her pupils shrunken.

“I don't know,” James said grimly. “But we'd better... go...” his voice trailed off as he heard laughing coming from the direction the fillies had run from. Suddenly piecing the clues together, he dashed forward, leaving Applejack to follow in his wake as he turned the corner and headed to where a door opened into one of the sleeping cabins assigned to the ship's MechWarrior compliment. Lying on his back on the floor was a half-naked man tangled in his bedsheets, a lit flashlight at his side and forgotten as he pounded the floor with his hands and laughed so hard that his face was changing color.

“David, what the hell did you do?” James asked in a shocked tone as Applejack skidded to a stop beside him.

“I, I,” David stuttered, trying to get the words out between drawing breath and laughing. “I pretended... to be... monster... Perfect setup... “I hunger”.” At the last words his laughter redoubled again, and the thin man rolled on the floor. “Help! I can't breathe!”

James let out a breath he'd been holding in worry, and despite himself laughed a bit at the man lying on the floor. “You're a sick man, Dave, do you know that?”

“Help,” David replied, his face contorted in laughter.

He didn't say anything else that was coherent, and so James turned to face Applejack. “Well, I guess Dave scared 'em right good.”

“Ah guess,” Applejack replied, smiling as well in spite of her worry. The joyful expression disappeared soon enough, and she turned to canter down the corridor in the direction the fillies had ran. “C'mon, we'd better git 'em 'fore they do somethin' dumb.”

“Right behind you,” James called out as he followed, leaving the struggling David on the floor of his cabin.

Chapter 11 - Endurance

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Mercenary DropShip Heart of Steel
Sweet Apple Acres, Ponyville, Equestria
September 17th AD 3070/1023 RC

“Ahh,” Mei Nguyen sighed as she sat back in her command chair, holding a cup of tea she had just poured for herself. Although well known to her friends and colleagues as a serious, no-nonsense ship officer, the diminutive woman still allowed herself some human foibles. Amongst them was her post-landing tea, which she had just ordered from the galley only a few minutes ago and was now finally sitting to relax with while the two other officers in the room worked their consoles, though even they were relaxed as well as nothing hostile appeared on their sensor readouts and they had assurances that the locals were pleasant and friendly. All in all, a nice way to earn pay while sitting on your rear, the Steel's captain mused, with a mirthful grin that she hid behind her teacup. Not that I'll tell Jim that. Better he thinks me as irreplaceable than just another office worker. She had little fear of that, though, since she knew the commander well after years of playing chauffeur for his unit. Some merc leaders just want warm bodies, others want laser precision even if you're going to the restroom. It's nice to work for an officer who's more in the middle.

A sudden noise impinged itself upon her relaxation then, and Nguyen blinked out of her reverie to glance around. “Is that the atmosphere alarm?” She asked of the two officers sitting watch with her.

“It sounds too high-pitched for that,” the man of the pair replied.

“And it's getting louder,” the woman added. Then her eyes went wide as she turned to work her sensor console. “It might be incoming artillery!”

Nguyen felt a spike of icy fear stab through her belly at that, and she was about to move a hand to her master console and signal an alert before the noise suddenly became very loud and familiar. “What the- Who's screaming?”

She needn't have asked, as up through the hatch leading below came three small figures who immediately started running about in chaotic patterns, screaming as they went. “It's gonna eat uusss!” One of them said, interjecting a brief moment of lucidity in an otherwise perfect conflagration of chaos.

Nguyen stared at the scene in complete surprise and shock, even as she brought up her hands to cover her ears against the racket. “Stop it!” She yelled, as her temper flared at this unexpected inconvenience.

The three tiny figures all froze in place and fell silent for a moment at the sudden bellow. Before Nguyen could follow up on this, however, the three tiny ponies dashed over to the captain's command console and abruptly ducked into the leg well underneath it. “Ya gotta help us, miss!” The red-haired filly of the group pleaded from the shady area as Nguyen lowered her hands and bent down to incredulously inspect the invidiously irritating invasive fillies. “There's a monster below and it wants to eat us!”

Mei stood there for a moment, confused at the events of the past few moments. She looked up and met the gazes of her two fellow officers on the bridge and found them as equally confounded as she was. “What the Samuel Helsinki are you talking about?” She asked, looking back down at the trio of tiny ponies. “And why are you on my bridge?”

“The monster was gonna eat us!” The white-coated unicorn of the group reiterated.

“And getting up high is always a good way to hide!” The orange, winged one added in.

“Ya only say that 'cuz you're a pegasus!” The red-haired filly sniped.

“I didn't see you complaining at the time!”

“Quiet!” Nguyen snapped, her tone surprisingly deep for a small woman. The practiced command voice silenced the trio of arguing ponies, who then looked to the human in shock. Nguyen, for her part, took the moment of silence to close her eyes and then breathe in deep for a moment. “Now, who are you, why are you on my ship, and what's this about a monster?” She asked, as she opened her eyes to take in the three frightened fillies.

“That would be David's fault,” a familiar voice said from the entry hatch, and everyone on the bridge turned to see James McKenna climbing up the steep but serviceable stairs from the deck below. “He decided to play a joke on them.”

“A joke?” The orange pegasus filly asked, her countenance askew in surprise and confusion. “B-but we saw it reach for us!”

“You saw a man with a poor sense of humor making a bad joke,” James replied. He didn't get a chance to add anything else, though, as Applejack climbed up into the bridge, prompting the fillies to run over to her. They bumped Nguyen on the way, and despite her innate agility from decades of spacer work, she fell to the decking and let out a mild grunt of pain as she landed on her rear.

“Now lookit what ya done,” Applejack immediately chided the three fillies, the harsh words brining them to a stop in front of the orange earth pony. “First y'all go runnin' off, then ya race around like foals on Nightmare Night, and now ya dun knocked that poor lady on the floor!”

“Oh,” the yellow-coated filly said, while she and her friends blushed. “Oops?”

“Ah'll dun “oops” y'all if'n ya don't apologize right now,” Applejack said, a hard look on her face.

Applebloom grimaced at that, knowing full well her sister meant it, and she lead her friends in turning around to face the woman who was even now regaining her footing. “We're sorry miss,” the yellow filly said, her voice low.

“Yeah, we were just scared and all,” Sweetie Belle said.

“And we didn't mean to cause trouble,” Scootaloo added.

Nguyen gave the fillies a long look before she turned her gaze to James and Applejack. “I take it these three are kids?”

“Children, yes,” James replied, and Applejack nodded after his clarification.

Mei sighed, and then turned to nod to the fillies. “Alright, girls, I forgive you,” she said with a voice that told of great patience.

“Yay!” The trio of fillies cheered, causing the adults in the compartment to wince.

“But from now on,” Nguyen continued, her voice raised a bit to ensure that the youngsters would listen. “This bridge and all other sensitive compartments aboard the Heart of Steel are off-limits to you unless you have an adult human with you who can give you permission. Understood?” She asked, giving the trio a hard stare.

“Y-yes ma'am,” Applebloom answered for her friends, as they all cowered back a bit from the captain's glare.

“Good, now that's settled,” Applejack interjected. “Y'all come with me, Applebloom, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle. Y'all have dun 'nuff ta bother th' human folk, an' ya went back on your word ta be on yer best behavior.” The orange mare gave the children another hard look. “An' in case y'all forgot, runnin' off ain't good behavior.”

The fillies made a series of disappointed sounds, but they followed Applejack's directions and slowly walked to the hatch leading out of the room. The earth pony watched them like a hawk, only taking a moment to shoot an apologetic smile to Nguyen and tip her hat at James before she turned and followed the trio of fillies out.

“Well, that was interesting,” Nguyen dryly commented. “I certainly hope every day won't be like this, Jim?”

“I don't think so,” James replied, and then shook his head. “They're sweet kids, and not that dumb. But I'm glad you came down on them; they kind of don't pay attention too well.”

“Sounds like your brood,” Nguyen said, a smirk on her face. “Besides, it seems David needs a bit of a lesson himself.”

“Indeed,” James said, a smirk growing on his face. “Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a 'MechWarrior to reassign to latrine duty.”

“C'mon, c'mon,” Rainbow Dash said as she trotted in place, waiting for Twilight Sparkle to catch up on the road to Sweet Apple Acres. “I thought you came in fifth during the Running of the Leaves?”

“I did,” Twilight said with a sigh as she reached Rainbow's position and continued on without stopping. Dash didn't mind, of course, and just quickly ran up to join the purple unicorn. “But I did it by pacing myself, not by running ahead heedlessly like you keep doing.”

“But we've taken so long already!” Dash complained.

Twilight smirked at that. “Yes, and which pony was it who didn't want to stop reading about fightercraft?”

Rainbow blushed at that, and then glanced aside. “It's not my fault,” she protested weakly. “They have a bunch of pictures, and moving pictures showing that stuff with the writing.”

“So you decided you wanted to just stare at pictures of sonic booms all day?” Twilight teased.

“Maybe,” Dash replied, blushing again. However, her face changed as the pair of ponies crested a final ridge line and then paused. “Wow, that just looks cool,” the pegasus said.

Twilight merely nodded in agreement as she looked over the spheroid dropship sitting to the north of the Apple family's main house and barn. It was different in the Everfree Forest. Out there, one always expects strange sights. But that ship sitting just outside of Ponyville just looks so alien and different from normal. Even those war machines the humans use are made small by its appearance.

“Well, come on,” Rainbow Dash said as she started off in a trot again, prompting Twilight to follow.

“If you're so eager, Dash, why didn't you fly back out?” The purple unicorn curiously asked.

The cyan pegasus froze at that for a moment, though she quickly regained herself and resumed her position besides Twilight. “My back still kinda hurts,” Dash admitted, her voice low. “I think I overdid the flying yesterday and today.”

“When's the last time you had a doctor check on the wounds?” Twilight asked, suddenly concerned.

Dash shrugged, and then winced. “It's okay, really,” she said dismissively. “I can handle it.”

“Rainbow, you know that wounds can get infected, right?” Twilight pressed her friend. “You don't want to be permanently grounded because you let them get that way, right?”

The mention of being grounded froze Dash up again, and Twilight came to a stop to face the motionless pony. “Y-you don't think that can really happen?” Rainbow asked, her confidence replaced by a tinge of fear.

Twilight felt her face twist a bit as she regretted posing her last question. “Er, well, it's possible,” she said, and then hastened to add “but I'm sure if you get a doctor to check it out then it will be fine.” An idea hit the unicorn just then, and she managed a small smile towards her friend. “In fact, why don't you let the human doctor check you out?” She asked. “McKenna said they had one on their staff.”

“Really?” Dash asked, sounding hopeful. “You think that they could help?”

“It's worth a try,” Twilight said with a shrug. “Come on, let's go,” she added, and then turned and trotted off, leaving Rainbow to catch up. The pair made their way along the road and up to the gated entrance to the Apple Family farm before taking the turn to the north and following a well worn path through the orchards until they reached the empty northern fields. They paused upon leaving the trees behind as they could now see the activity at the base of the dropship.

The Ferret helicopter that had so interested Dash had been moved out, and beside it the ship's crew and several from the mercenary company were working to set up a series of large tents. They seemed to pay no attention as a massive, bird-legged war machine prowled out from the belly of the ship and down a large ramp to the ground. Twilight and Rainbow, however, watched in curious fascination as the mechanical war avatar carefully picked its footing with a precision that told of great skill, both in the machine's manufacture and in the piloting, before it cleared the humans and then turned to accelerate to a ground-pounding speed that both ponies marveled at seeing in such a large device.

“I don't think I'll ever get used to that,” Dash said, to which Twilight could only nod her head. Both ponies then continued on in silence towards the Steel, sparing long looks towards the humans working just outside.

Goodness, those hands must be terribly useful, Twilight Sparkle thought as she saw the various methods and tools used by the bipedal sapients. Sure, setting up a tent isn't that hard, but they make it look easier than having to mess with hooves and horns. I suppose nature had to compensate them somehow for the lack of magic. The unicorn thought about it some more, and then grimaced slightly. Then again, I sure wish I could just reach up and grab something so easily at times.

Twilight and Dash reached the base of the ramp a few minutes later, and then started to climb up it. At the top, however, they were met by a rather imposing looking woman who wore clothing that looked altogether too think for the warm weather, and a helmet that had a visor which covered the top half of her face. “May I help you?” This human asked, as she shifted the large firearm she carried in both hands.

“Uh,” Twilight said, and then shared a confused look with Rainbow Dash. “We kind of wanted to meet with the commander,” the unicorn said.

“Yeah. We're the only reason anypony listens to him,” Dash added, smugly, and Twilight fought an urge to facehoof. “So we wanna talk to him.”

Despite the lack of a full face to read, Twilight easily could see that the woman was not amused. However, the human stared at the two ponies for a moment and then nodded. “Oh yeah, you two were there when we landed,” she said, her voice lightening a bit. Then she brought a hand off of her gun and pointed it towards Twilight. “You're the one that “hired” us.”

Twilight could hear the quotation marks in the human's voice, and she frowned a bit. “Why do you say it like that?” She asked. “Isn't that what happened?”

“Well, yeah...” The human woman said, and then shrugged. “The thing of it is, the commander was more or less saying that for the sake of formality. You know, honor and all that. In reality you wouldn't be able to afford our services with pocket change.”

“What, we're not good enough for you then?” Dash shot out, not quite grasping the situation.

The human sighed at that. “That's not what I meant,” she said in a huff. “We normally get contracts that pay us millions of C-bills just for showing up. More for combat pay. Plus expenses.”

“That sounds like a lot,” Twilight said, though she frowned as she spoke. “But how much is a C-bill worth?”

The human thought on that for a moment. “Well, how much does, oh, say one of those apples over there cost?” She asked, pointing to the orchards in the distance.

“Those?” Twilight asked back, and then thought for a moment. “Applejack sells them at market for ten to a bit. A dozen if it's right after applebucking season.”

“Okay then,” the guard said with a nod, and chose to ignore the local cultural reference. “A bundle of ten good apples like that on a class-A agriculture planet – which is what I'd peg this place at – would cost about one tenth of a C-bill. So I'd say that it'd take ten of your “bits” would be worth one C-bill.”

Twilight blinked hard at that, and even Rainbow Dash remained silent as the implications sunk into her brain. “So, how much would, er, a “job” like this cost?” The purple unicorn asked.

“Lessee, overwhelming odds, strange and unknown terrain, no intelligence, no support, no backup, possibly suicidal...” The human muttered, and then fell silent for a moment as she thought. “About ten million C-bills. Something like that.”

A moment of silence passed as the two ponies chewed on that information. “A hundred-million bits,” Dash said, quietly. “Even I know that's a big number. How the hay can anypony pay you that?”

“The governments back home have a lot of wealth lying around,” the guard said with another shrug. “Twelve hundred years of industrialized civilization and galactic expansion will do that. That and having a population base of over a hundred planets and hundreds of billions of humans per nation helps.”

Both ponies balked at that, despite Dash's usual ignorance of numbers and Twilight's late night skimming of the humans' library. It really drives home just what these people have done, and can do, Twilight thought in silent awe. That they can afford to spend so much on something as frivolous and petty as war, and not even a major part of war at that. According to that recent history book I read they've had armies of hundreds of thousands of these machines marching around and shooting one another, millions of soldiers moving and fighting and dying. Despite the terror Twilight felt all too clearly at the very notion of combat, the mere idea of such a grand movement of soldiers and material sent a thrill down her spine. The organization required for it must have been phenomenal, the planning intricate, and the execution performed with mathematical precision. I organized Winter Wrap-Up so it could be finished in a single day, but what these people do, what they've done, makes what I've done look like the scribblings of a child.

A voice startled Twilight out of her reverie, and she blushed as she found both the human guard and Dash looking at her with concern on their faces. Well, I'm guessing that with the human, the unicorn thought as she cleared her throat. “Sorry, I was just thinking,” she explained. “You were saying?”

“I was saying that I called up to the bridge and got a hold of the commander,” the guard said. “You two can go in,” she added, and then gestured to the side to indicate which way the ponies should go.

Twilight and Rainbow both said their thanks to the human, but before they could move past they saw a line of familiar ponies walking towards the ramp from within the darkened bowels of the ship. “Applejack, hello!” Twilight friendlily called out, waving a hoof towards the orange earth pony.

“Well, howdy there Twilight,” Applejack replied, a smile on her face as she led the three fillies behind her to a stop. “And ta you too, Dash,” she added with a nod to the pegasus. “How's th' bandages holdin' up?”

Dash blushed a bit at the question before she replied. “They're... fine,” she said, quietly.

Applejack frowned. “That don't sound fine ta me. Y'okay?”

A small gasp echoed from behind the farm mare. “Is there something wrong, Dash?” Scootaloo said as she darted out from her friends to stand in front of her heroine.

Rainbow leaned back a bit at the sudden intrusion into her personal space. “Yeah, I'm fine Scoot,” she said with a smile. “You know me, I always bounce back,” the cyan pegasus added, and then puffed out her chest. Then she winced in pain as this pulled at her back.

“Uh-huh,” Applejack said in a sardonic tone that told anyone listening that she wasn't buying it. “Well, if'n ya don't mind, Ah'll be off ta escort these lil' varmints,” she added, and then gave another pointed look towards the fillies, who lowered their heads in shame. “They dun caused some trouble again.”

“But it weren't our fault this time!” Applebloom protested. “You an' mister McKenna both said we had a joke played on us!”

“Which wouldn't a happened if'n ya stayed with me an' mister McKenna like ya were s'posed to, like ya promised ta do,” Applejack replied, her voice firm and unyielding. “An' then ya disturbed that lady who was nice to ya even after y'all dumped her on her backside. Now do y'all really think that's th' right way ta act?”

The three fillies turned their gazes downward. “No ma'am,” Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo said, while Applebloom said “no sis.”

“Ah'm glad y'all know that much,” Applejack said, and then turned to face her two friends again. “So Ah'm takin' these troublemakers off here 'fore they do somethin' else. Like blow up the durn thing.”

The human guard chuckled at that, garnering the six ponies' attentions. “I've heard stories from the old timers about how that nearly happened once,” she said mirthfully. “Seems one of the commander's kids was playing with firecrackers a bit too close to one of the LRM ammo bays. They say “Ol' Steeljaw” McCoy went gray after that.”

The ponies all gave the human odd looks, and the guard stopped chuckling and then shrugged. “Sorry,” she said. “I guess you have to-”

“You!” Applejack interrupted, pointing a foreleg at the guard, who seemed as shocked as the other ponies at the sudden movement. “Ah knew Ah heard yer voice b'fore! Yer that varmint who knocked me down in th' forest yesterday!”

“Oh, uh, you remember that?” The guard said, a blush showing on the part of her face that wasn't covered by the helmet or its visor. “I did say I was sorry. Those suits we wear aren't as agile as an unarmored person.”

Applejack blew air through her nose in a very equine manner, and then turned and motioned for the fillies to follow her again as she set off down the ramp in silence. The three females remaining at the top of the ramp watched her go for a bit before the two ponies turned towards the human. “You knocked her down?” Twilight asked, curious.

The guard sighed. “Look, I was in my powered armor, and I took a step too far to the right as my squad ran by her and I bumped the wagon with a hip. I didn't know she'd fall right over or that she couldn't get herself up again.”

Dash chortled at that. “Oh, I would have loved to have seen her face!” She managed to get out between cackles.

“Anyway,” Twilight said, her tone just on the soft side of irritated. “We should get going, Dash.”

“Yeah yeah,” Rainbow said dismissively, but she turned and started to move off anyway.

Twilight made to follow her, but then paused by the human. “By the way, thank you miss-?”

“Lewis,” the woman said. “April Lewis.”

“Thank you, miss Lewis,” Twilight said, and then nodded to the human, who nodded back. Then the unicorn turned and trotted off to rejoin Dash, who was already deep into the 'Mech bay, staring up at the various accoutrements of mechanized warefare.

“Wow,” Dash muttered as Twilight caught up. “Look at all of this... this... stuff!”

“It is impressive to say the least,” Twilight replied, feeling a bit awestruck herself. “And to think, all of this moves around on its own, from planet to planet, from star to star.”

“What th' bloody Hell!” A harsh voice snapped, causing both ponies to startle and spin about in place to face the speaker. A gangly old human with white hair and a matching beard stormed over towards them. “More bloody ponies! Get out of me work zone!”

“Uh, we're sorry, sir,” Twilight haltingly said. “We were just-”

“Are ye daft? I've got a Firestarter and an Assassin comin' in for work an' yer just standin' there like a pair o' Tharkad poofers after payday?” The crotchety human asked in a demanding voice. Then he raised an arm and pointed towards the side of the 'mech bay with his hand. “Get tae the lift and run it up 'fore ye get squished! Go!”

A set of ominous thuds sounded from outside just then, as if summoned to punctuate the human's words. Twilight and Rainbow glanced at one another, and then turned and sprinted off in the direction the old man pointed them. They quickly reached the inside wall of the 'mech bay and found what their accoster had been referring to. As they walked towards it, however, the ground quaking thumping increased in volume and the decking beneath them shook a bit, and both ponies turned to see Schneider's Firestarter ascending the embarkation ramp. Again Twilight felt a reluctant admiration growing within her for the humans, whose ingenuity and skill produced such tools. Even if it is made for killing things, the unicorn thought with a shudder.

Both Rainbow Dash and Twilight Sparkle watched in quiet interest as the 45-ton war machine slowly moved into the bay, guided by a man on the deck waving a pair of lighted sticks. The guide's direction helped Schneider maneuver the medium 'mech around so he could back it into one of the large cradles that lined most of the ship's inner walls, whereupon the 'mechwarrior locked his machine down. A few moments later, a gantry moved over to the back of the Firestarter's head, and a little after that the familiar lanky figure of Schneider appeared, dressed in nothing more than a cooling vest, and a pair each of shorts and boots. The curious ponies watched him descend the stairs on the gantry and come down to talk with the human workers who were even now wheeling tools and machinery and carts loaded with long tubes that had fins at one end and a point at the other. Twilight recognized them as the basic shape of rocket-propelled projectiles, and she remembered reading about how humans had been using such things for thousands of years.

“So,” Dash said, interrupting their silence and drawing Twilight's attention to her friend. “We're supposed to use this thing?” The cyan pegasus asked, as she gestured with her head towards the lift cage.

“It seems so,” Twilight said, as she and Rainbow Dash both turned to face the gate and the controls. “It looks like it's been enclosed for safety reasons, to keep po- er, people from falling out,” she quickly amended her language, realizing now how much she needed to adjust her vocabulary. “I think those are the controls,” Sparkle added, and then walked forward until she could look at the unmarked panel. “But there's nothing to tell me which button calls the lift down.”

“Who makes something that doesn't have directions?” Dash asked in a huff.

“It had directions, once,” a voice said from behind them, and both Twilight and Rainbow startled a bit, though less strenuously than before as they were almost expecting surprises by now. They both glanced back and saw that Schneider had walked over, and the human gave them a small smile as he walked around them to reach the panel. “When the ship was new, it would have had a properly labeled panel,” he continued, even as he stopped by the lift and pressed a large button. “But a few centuries of use means that the original was long ago replaced, and when it was the crew simply remembered which buttons were which and then passed that information down through the years.”

“This ship is that old?” Twilight asked, a bit of awe in her voice.

Schneider nodded in reply. “How much history did you read last night, miss Sparkle?” He asked the purple pony.

“Uhm, not a lot,” she said, blushing a bit. “There's just so much of it!”

The mechwarrior chuckled at that. “That there is,” he said in an agreeing tone, and then glanced up as his peripheral vision caught the lift descending from the decks above. “But did you at least skim the last thousand years or so?”

Twilight nodded, even as her countenance dimmed. “Yes,” she said, her voice barely audible over the noise of the technicians starting their work on the Firestarter. “I did notice that your people had some... bad times recently.”

“A galaxy-wide dark age is a bit more than just some “bad times”,” Schneider dourly observed. “We lost a lot of knowledge for a while, amongst that the ability to build ships like this one,” he added, and then gestured around them as the lift reached the main deck. He paused then to open the lift gate, and then waved the two ponies in before he moved in himself. “The Heart of Steel was built just over three hundred years ago for the Star League Defense Force, and she's remained in commission ever since simply because she was too rare to replace.” Schneider pressed a control on the lift's interior panel, and then smirked as the elevator started to rise. “Admittedly, though, it's sometimes nice to ride in a piece of living history,” he continued. “The Steel was part of the invasion force that liberated Terra from the Usurper, you know?”

Twilight tilted her head inquisitively at that, but before she could say anything, Dash yawned. “Man, you guys like talking about this stuff a lot, don't you?” She asked, somewhat impatiently.

Schneider chuckled at that, but then shook his head reproachfully. “Now miss Dash, we have a saying: “Those who don't learn from history are condemned to repeat it.” It pays to know where you've been, because it helps you decide where to go.”

“A wise saying,” Twilight said with a nod. “I think I'm going to have to look more into your history soon.”

“Just be careful you remember to keep things in context,” Schneider advised. “Sometimes things that seem barbaric to us now were just the way things were done in the past. It's not always entertaining, but it is always enlightening.”

The purple unicorn nodded. “I'll try to remember that,” she said, as the lift carried them past the upper 'mech bay level and thence into the crew oriented areas of the ship, and then stopped.

“So, where are you ladies heading?” Schneider asked as he pulled the lift gate open and then led the two ponies out from the conveyance.

“Well, we were going to speak with commander McKenna,” Twilight said, and then glanced to Rainbow Dash. “But we were also hoping that you could get a doctor to look at Dash's wounds?”

“Oh?” Schneider asked as he looked to the cyan pegasus.

“Er, yeah,” Dash said, a blush on her face. “It kinda started hurting worse after all the flying I did yesterday.”

A look of concern came over Schneider's face. “In that case you should definitely have it looked at,” he stated. “Come on, I'll take you to sickbay and we'll see if Doctor Ferrell can do anything for you,” he said, and then turned to walk down the corridors of the ship.

The two ponies followed quickly enough, though for once Dash seemed to hang back a bit and nervously glanced around. “You guys don't have a lot of windows on this thing, do ya?” She asked.

“On a spaceship?” Schneider asked, and laughed briefly. “Windows are weak points on a ship's hull, and since the Steel was made to go into combat she has precious few. Only the bridge and the two fighter bay control booths have windows, reinforced as they are.”

“Oh,” Dash said, a small frown on her muzzle. “So I guess flying out through a window isn't an option then?”

“Nervous?” Schneider asked with a glance behind him.

“N-no, of course not!” Rainbow said, though her stutter announced otherwise. “I- I just like having my options open, that's all,” she added, and then glanced around again.

“Uh-huh,” Schneider said, disbelief in his tone. “You don't have to worry,” he said as he led them around a corner and towards a large door that was open further down the corridor. “Doctor Farrell is a good guy, really professional, and-”

The sound of something slamming down startled the three persons, and they stood still as a voice rang out. “Dammit Jim! I'm a doctor, not a veterinarian!”

Surprised at this, Schneider and the two ponies accompanying him quickly moved forward and around the doorframe to see James standing next to captain Starbuck, their backs to the door as they faced another, middle-aged human across a desk. The second man had both of his hands balled into fists and down on the desk, and his face was contorted in anger.

After a moment, James dipped his head and then rubbed a hand over his face as he grumbled. “How long have you been waiting to use that line?” He tiredly asked.

The man across from him broke into a wide grin as he stood upright again. “Ever since I saw the camera feeds yesterday,” he said with a chuckle. “You have to admit, commander, it's not every day I get to quote that old show back at you.”

James grumbled again, but despite that he soon chuckled as well, albeit ruefully. “Alright, fair enough doc,” he said. “But seriously?”

“Seriously, I will of course see what I can do,” the other man said. Then he blinked as he realized that others had come into the small sickbay, and he turned to regard them. “Looks like a full house today,” he said.

James and Starbuck turned around and looked at the new arrivals in surprise. “Well, the gang's all here,” James said in a playful tone.

“Something like that,” Schneider said, and then cocked his head. “Did I just hear doc Farrell steal a pop culture march on you?” He asked with a grin.

“Maybe,” James replied, his tone annoyed as he squinted a single eye at the younger mechwarrior. “I take it McCoy's working on your 'mech?”

“Yes, sir,” Schneider replied, only slightly professional as he remained smiling at his friend and commander. “Should be a quick turnaround on it, since all they have to do is reload the rocket launchers and slap a new coat of grease on the joints, or whatever it is the tech-heads do.”

“Good,” James said with a nod. “So what are y'all doing here then?”

Schneider gave James a look at the odd contraction, but then shook himself very slightly. “Miss Dash apparently is having some issues with her wounds,” the younger man said. “We were hoping doctor Farrell could take a look?”

“Ah, what a coincidence,” James said, and then glanced to his side where Starbuck was blushing slightly. “I managed to talk the captain here into a check up as well.”

“Two for the price of one, then,” doctor Farrell gaily said, drawing everyone's attention to him. “This will be interesting, seeing I really don't have any veterinary experience. So who's first?”

“Excuse me,” Starbuck said, his face showing some irritation. “But would you stop using that term? Vets are for animals, not ponies.”

“Where we come from ponies are animals,” Farrell replied, still good-natured despite the caustic tone in Starbuck's voice. “As such doctors like myself aren't trained to treat them. Since you are much more closely equinomorph than anthropomorph I would say that places your taxonomy firmly in the realm of veterinary medicine, at least as it is practiced by humans.”

“Even so, doctor,” James said, holding up a hand to forestall any reply from Starbuck or Twilight, who looked equally ready to speak out. “These ponies are very much people, and so repeating that term might be a bit offensive.”

“Well, alright,” Farrell said, a light blush running over his face. “Forget it then. So, I still need to know who wants to go first?”

“I think you should take a look at miss Dash first,” Starbuck interjected, waving his uninjured wing towards the surprised pegasus. “My injury is but a scratch, albeit a nasty one. She, however, suffered severe burns on her back, and our doctors were clear that she should have them checked regularly.”

“I see,” Farrell said, and then looked over at the blushing rainbow-maned pony. “Well miss, Dash was it?” He asked, and then received a nod. “Would you like some privacy? I can tell your people aren't exactly big on modesty, but patients have the right to be treated in private whenever possible, and the others can wait outside until we're done.”

Rainbow blinked at the question, and then looked around the compartment. It wasn't very large, scarcely deep enough to allow the group of ponies and humans to stand in the reception area in front of Farrell's desk, and wide enough to have room off to the left for two beds and some lockers for storing equipment and supplies. All in all it looked fine, but nevertheless Dash had a sudden feeling of claustrophobia at the idea of Twilight and Starbuck leaving her alone. “Uh, no,” she said, and then looked back to the doctor with a sheepish look on her face. “I don't want- I mean, I don't mind if everyone stays here,” she added the last with a bit of hastily built, false bravado.

“Okay then,” Farrell said, and then moved out from behind his desk. “Just get up on one of the beds and I'll take a look at those wounds of yours,” he added as he walked over towards a zero-g sink set up in the corner of the room.

Dash glanced around to look at the two other ponies in the room, and she drew strength from their calm demeanor. Nevertheless, she had to gulp down a bit of her nervousness before she trotted over to a bed and then flapped her wings a bit to land on top of it, wincing the entire time she flew.

Farrell turned back in time to see her land, and his eyes bugged a bit at having seen the pony in flight. “Well, I don't think I'll ever get tired of that,” he said as he dried his hands, and then went to one of the lockers on the side of the room and retrieved a simple medical kit. “Alright, lets get those bandages off,” he said, and then took out a small pair of scissors from his kit. “I'm going to cut them off, so try not to move miss Dash.”

Rainbow glanced back at the doctor with some concern on her face, but she nodded her understanding before she faced forward again and then held perfectly still as Farrell cut apart the old bandages and removed them. Once he had, he let his practiced eye train over the scarred back of the pony for a few moments. “Does it hurt when I do this?” He asked, as he very lightly tapped a finger on one of the worst spots.

“Hrng,” Dash groaned, and then turned her head around again to give the human a hard stare. “Yeah, it does!” She snapped. “What was that for?”

“To make sure that you still had feeling,” Farrell replied nonchalantly, before he turned to dig in his kit. “If it didn't hurt then that means that the nerve endings had been fried, and you'd need skin grafts. As it is, the burns are nasty, but shouldn't be too bad with proper care.” He took a bottle out from the box and then gave the pony a sympathetic look. “I'm going to spray you with this topical anesthetic to numb the pain while I clean out the wounds. It may sting a bit but it will be quick.”

“Wait, clean out?” Dash asked, her voice quavering with worry. “I didn't take those bandages off at all, there shouldn't be any dirt in them.”

“Not dirt, miss Dash,” Farrell replied, and then sprayed the bottle's contents over the wounds on Rainbow's back. The cyan pegasus sucked in air through clenched teeth, but she remained still, which garnered a nod from the human doctor. “Your doctors did a good job, but it appears they need a few lessons in burn treatment,” Farrell said in a conversational tone. “Burns this bad tend to scar; I don't think that's preventable at this stage, but we can reduce the scarring that will occur by cleaning out old scab material and using butterfly bandages to close the wounds more tightly before applying the gauze. If I left it as it was, you would have probably lost some flexibility and muscle use. This way you should make a complete recovery, save for some minor surface scarring, of course.”

Farrell worked as he spoke, and he did as he said, using various tools to cut or scrape away dead skin and scabs from Rainbow's injured back. The pegasus endured the mild, numbed pain of the procedure stoically, especially once she heard that it would ensure that she would be as agile as she had been before.

Meanwhile, the others in the room watched with a sense of morbid curiosity. Twilight Sparkle and Starbuck were especially keen on observing, partially out of understandably lingering mistrust, but partly to see how human doctors were different from their pony counterparts. The two humans looked on with more detached expressions, though deep down they knew that one day it might be them on the table, and so they watched the procedure with some interest.

Eventually, though, James lightly cleared his throat. “Well captain, Hermes,” he said, nodding towards the pegasus commander and the human mechwarrior respectively. “Seems providence might have brought us all here, as I have been meaning to discuss with you both my ideas for taking the fight to O'Connell and his men.”

Starbuck turned to the commander and gave him an inquisitive look. “We were speaking of defensive measures, yesterday,” he said, ruminatively.

“Yes sir,” James said with a nod. “But while I understand war seems to be out of style with your people, surely you have some histories that tell you what happens to an army that stays only on the defense?”

“Indeed,” Starbuck reluctantly replied, with a nod of his own. “But I am curious on how you can speak of going on the offensive so soon?”

“Because the best defense is a good offense,” Schneider added in. “Having a good plan for defense makes sense, and the planning we did yesterday was worth the time. But Jim's right about going to offensive operations. We need to seize the initiative from O'Connell, force him to react to our moves, to dance to our tune.”

“I see,” the pegasus commander said, after a moment of thought. “I presume that the fact you waited until I was with you to make these plans means you have some role in mind for us ponies?”

“Indeed I do, sir,” James said with a nod. “It's going to require cooperation from more forces than you have with you here in Ponyville, so we'll probably have to meet this princess of yours to get official help. But I think we can combine your people's unique skills and abilities with out concepts of mechanized and asymmetrical warfare to create an attack plan that O'Connell won't see coming.”

Starbuck thought on this, and then nodded. “Color me intrigued. Please, tell me more.”

And so he did.

Nighttime fell upon Equestria softly, bringing with it a calm that relaxed most ponies, save those who had duties to perform.

Such as it felt to Rarity as she walked uneasily in a group with Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, and the humans Ivan and James. They had met at Pinkie's insistence, with the pink party pony persistently positing that the larger of the two humans could help with Fluttershy. How, I wouldn't even begin to guess, the white unicorn thought as she walked alongside Dash, who was surprisingly quiet and calm this evening. Such brutish creatures, these “men,” who fight for pay and seem to not even think twice of killing somepony else. How could these soldiers know anything of the softer, finer things in life? How could they even begin to help poor, delicate Fluttershy?

“So, Pinkie Pie,” Dash said, nearly startling Rarity with her sudden speech. “Where were you today?”

“Ooh!” The pink pony replied, bouncing into the air as she did. “I took Ivan over to Sugarcube Corner and I made some waffles and then we ate them and after that we made some cupcakes then ate them too and then we went out to the ship and Ivan showed me how to make a “sandvich” and he said it was really good but he wouldn't let me try a piece because he said it had something called ham and baloney on it and I have no idea what those things are but he said that it wasn't for ponies so he made me a lettuce and tomato and celery sandvich with mayonnaise and lots and lots of ketchup!”

Rarity, Dash, and even James just gave Pinkie a long look of befuddlement upon the conclusion of her rant. Ivan, though, laughed briefly. “Is true! Pink pony lady loves ketchup almost as much as Ivan!”

“Nu-uh, I like it more!” Pinkie teasingly said, turning her head in mid-hop to silently razz the large human.

Again, Ivan laughed. “Silly pony! Tomorrow, Ivan show you! Tomorrow, we make fried potato pieces!”

“French fries,” James interjected. “They're called french fries, Ivan.”

“Who fry French?” Ivan asked in a confused tone. “French is nice man! Ivan find man who fry French and then BAM!” One meaty hand, tightened into a fist, slammed into the palm of the other to emphasize. “Ivan pound frying man into the fire!”

James paused in his walking at that, and then groaned as the others stopped to look back at him. “For Helsinki's sake, Ivan, that was terrible!”

The larger human laughed heartily, throwing back his head at that. Pinkie Pie joined in as well, though she simply giggled maniacally. “Good one, Ivan!” The pink earth pony said, a wide grin on her muzzle. “But next time, work fire into the joke sooner.”

“Ivan remember, pink lady pony,” the infantryman said, as the group started moving again along the path towards Fluttershy's cottage.

Dash chuckled at the antics of the two fast friends, and then glanced to the side to see that her unicorn friend was still facing forward, as if to ignore the others behind her. “Aw, lighten up, Rarity,” Rainbow whispered near the other mare's ear. “They're not so bad.”

The fashionista turned her muzzle up at that and made a very ladylike humph noise at the same time. “I'll believe that when I see it,” Rarity whispered back. “So far all they've done is fight with the other ruffians. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm happy they helped you with your injuries, but doctor Suture at Ponyville Hospital could have done that.”

“Not the way these guys did,” Dash replied, and then fell silent as she shuffled her wings a bit. Unlike before, the movement didn't cause a significant amount of pain, as doctor Farrell had not only cleaned the wounds well, but also had closed them up and slathered a gel of some sort that soothed and comforted the pegasus' back. He even said it would keep the wounds from getting infected and help them heal faster, Rainbow remembered.

“Even so, you needn't have availed yourself of their help when there are plenty of ponies to assist you,” Rarity countered. “There was no good reason for you to risk their brutish ways.”

Rainbow gave her unicorn friend a dumbfounded look, but chose not to reply. It's so unlike her, the cyan pegasus marveled silently. But then, I guess Fluttershy being so freaked out isn't like her, either. Well, it is, but it's the way she's freaked out. Dash shook her head slowly as she walked with the others. Everypony is being changed. Hay, even I'm acting different, thinking so much and being... what's that word Twilight said? “Intospector?” Nah, that's not it. Something like that, though.

“We're here,” Rarity said aloud as the group came to a stop. Dash looked up in surprise as she realized that her thoughts had kept her so occupied that she hadn't noticed their approach to Fluttershy's cottage. I think I'm starting to understand Twilight a bit better, now, the pegasus mused as Rarity turned to face the others. “Well then, mister McKenna, mister Ivan, you are the supposed experts. How do you wish to proceed?”

James raised an eyebrow at the white unicorn's haughty airs, but he ignored it and instead turned to give his infantry commander a look. Ivan returned it steadily, all of his usual gregariousness and joy gone, and he simply gave a small nod to the commander before he turned away from the group and then crossed his arms.

“Ladies,” James said, interjecting the word before the confused ponies could say anything. “Let me have a word with you all, if you would,” he said, and then waved towards the bridge the group had used to walk over the stream in front of Fluttershy's cottage and walked towards it. Perplexed, the three ponies gave another look towards Ivan, who stood steadily and silently, before they went to join the commander on the other side of the stream.

“What's this about, mister McKenna?” Pinkie asked as she and her pony friends reached the waiting human.

“Yeah, what gives?” Dash added in a confused tone.

James took a moment to think, and then drew in a deep breath to steady his nerves. “I'm going to be forward and truthful with you all,” he said quietly, yet with a tone of solid determination. “What you're going to hear won't be pretty, and it won't be easy to watch,” he said carefully, as he made eye contact with each of the ponies standing in front of him. “People who suffer from mental trauma sometimes get lost within their own pain and sorrow. Sometimes you can talk them out peacefully. Sometimes, however...” He let his voice trail off at that, and then took another deep breath. “Sometimes you need to be harsh with them. And sometimes that means that it may come to blows.”

Both Rarity and Pinkie Pie gasped at this, and while Dash remained silent her eyes nevertheless bugged out a bit. “You aren't going to lay a hoof on her!” Rarity said, her voice suddenly low and threatening.

“I don't intend to use any part of myself against her,” James replied, his voice equally forceful. “But as you told us earlier, your friend nearly attacked you yesterday. She may have calmed down since then, but Ivan and myself are humans, and she's bound to feel threatened. Especially if, as you've said, she views our species as the source of her terror. If she lashes out at us, we may have to reply with just enough force to keep her from harming us or herself.

“If that happens, I want you to know two things,” James continued, and then held up a loose fist and then extended his index finger. “Firstly, you need to stay out of the way. Both Ivan and I are trained in non-lethal combat and restraint. Though the forms were made for use against humans we're confident we can adapt well enough to your shape. But we won't be able to do so safely if you're in the way, and so we need you to stay clear so no one gets hurt.

“And secondly,” his middle finger joined the index. “You have my word, as an officer and a gentleman, that we will do everything in our power to avoid hurting your friend. Some of the restraint moves we have may cause temporary pain, and she might scream, but I assure you that we will do no lasting damage.” So long as nothing goes horribly, horribly wrong, James thought as he lowered his hand. Please, God, don't let it get that bad.

Rarity frowned and gave the commander a harsh look as she gathered up her thoughts. As she opened her mouth to reply, however, Pinkie Pie reached out a hoof and lightly pressed it against the unicorn's side. Silenced by the surprising move, Rarity turned and saw something that she seldom had chance to witness: a look of utter seriousness on Pinkie's face. “Rarity, I know you girls don't always understand me,” the pink pony said, her voice quiet yet clear. “But please, could you trust me this once when I tell you that I know Ivan and James are good and honest? Just a teensy weensy bit?” She asked, a bit of her normal personality leaking back into her tone. “They totally know what they're doing.”

Rarity found herself speechless, unsure of what to say. Yet Pinkie's eyes were wide and open, as if pouring her understanding out for all to see, and slowly the white unicorn closed her own eyes and then nodded. “Alright, Pinkie,” she said, and then opened her eyes again and looked at James. “We'll do what you ask. But I promise you,” she continued, her voice again dropping into an aggressive tone. “If I see you truly hurting Fluttershy, I will break you.”

James smiled a grim, lifeless smile at that. “My lady, I would have it no other way,” he said, and then let the rictus grin fade from his features. “Now, let's get this show on the road.”

She heard the voices outside, both familiar and not, and the presence of the latter made her heart beat fast. Fluttershy glanced around her living room frantically, searching for a place to hide, or some way to bar the door. As she did, though, her gaze swept over a white rabbit whose beady eyes caught her own. Her pet, friend, and companion stared her down in a way that few could ever have hoped to do, and Flutershy felt a blush rise on her face as the rabbit tapped his foot. “A-Angle Bunny,” the yellow pegasus whispered, leaning down to match her height to his. “You need to help me. They're outside, and they're going to want to come in.”

The rabbit simply shook his head at her, and then pointed towards the door.

“N-no, I can't let them in!” Fluttershy replied to his silent request. “They- they'll want me to stop hiding in here, to come out with them. But I can't do that, Angel, I just can't!”

“Fluttershy?” Rarity's voice sounded from the other side of the timid pegasus' door, startling the pink-maned pony. “We're coming in.”

“NO VISITORS!” Fluttershy yelled, her voice as shrill and unwelcoming as it was on Nightmare Night. Despite her refusal, the door lever started twisting, and to the yellow pony's horror she realized that it wasn't locked. A quick glance downward showed the pegasus that Angel held a key in his forepaws that she hadn't noticed before in her panic.

Fluttershy yelped as that panic rose again, and she turned and darted back to the corner of the main room that she had hidden in the last time unwanted visitors had come calling. She barely made it before the door opened, and then curled up into a tight ball again as hoofsteps announced the arrival of her impromptu guests. Wait, two of them are bipedal, she realized, having learned to understand the different gait from her time with the many animals in and around Ponyville. No, no! Not them! Anything but them!

“Fluttershy?” Rarity spoke again, her voice gentle. “We brought some... friends for you to talk to,” the unicorn added, her voice hitching ever so slightly on the word “friends”.

“G-go away!” Fluttershy replied, her voice as shrill as before. “I don't want to talk!”

Silence answered her, much to the pegasus' surprise. Yet she heard no steps of the others leaving the cottage, and so she remained huddled in the corner. Then, a set of steps started up, and from the sound alone Fluttershy could tell it was one of them, and it was huge. She shivered, even as part of her screamed to run, the rest felt too terrified to move, even as the footfalls came closer.

Then the steps stopped, and she heard the figure turn and then slowly sit on the couch that sat next to her; its obfuscating bulk part of the reason she hid in the corner. She heard the couch strain as it bore the weight of the being, and then a moment later recognized the sound of the interloper's breathing. Strangely, she heard nothing but calmness in the steady rhythm, and a wave of confusion washed over the pegasus. Uncertainty and a bit of morbid curiosity overcame some of her terror, and so Fluttershy very slowly, very carefully lifted her head just a bit so she could peer upward with the corner of one eye.

She immediately recognized the figure as a male, as even his alien physiology displayed lines that could only belong to the rougher of the two sexes. A shock of short brown hair sat atop his head, and a pair of beady eyes, not unlike Angel's, looked out from a scarred, weatherbeaten face, though Fluttershy couldn't see much as the figure simply stared straight ahead from where he sat, leaving only the right side of his head visible to the frightened pegasus.

They sat like this in silence for what felt like an hour, before the figure started to move. Fluttershy immediately ducked her head back into the tight ball of her posture the instant she saw even a hint of motion, and she shivered again in fear. Yet no attack came, and instead Fluttershy heard the couch groan as the figure shifted on it, and the sound of fabric against some other, hard material. A second later, a light clicking noise sounded on the floor a few inches away from the pegasus, sending another convulsion of fear through her, but again nothing came of the noise. Fluttershy felt her curiosity rise again after nothing continued to happen, and she again raised her head just a slight bit, this time turning it so she could eye whatever the being had set down.

Surprise moved through the pegasus as her gaze alighted upon a small hinged case, rectangular in shape, and the two photographs held within. The picture on the left showed a family of five humans, two adults and three children, and the one on the right showed only a single human that Fluttershy recognized as female, so different did it look from the being that sat next to her. Yet her eyes detected a startling similarity, as well.

“Is my family,” the huge being next to her suddenly said, his deep voice low, almost a whisper. Fluttershy flinched at the sudden noise, but the lack of movement and the quiet tone let her keep her head up to look at the pictures as the man spoke. “My parents, my sister, my brother, and myself,” he continued in a sad tone, and the pegasus instantly recognized the eldest of the children in the left-hand photo as the younger version of the being she had glimpsed moments ago. More confused than ever, Fluttershy remained silent and waited for the big man to expand upon his words.

Ivan, though, remained silent. The quiet stretched and grew oppressive as the minutes dragged on, and finally the yellow pegasus felt an urge to break it. “W-why?” She asked, her voice so tiny as to render the adjective “whisper” an understatement. “Why show this to me?” She added, lifting her head up a bit more to take in the human's face in her peripheral vision.

The man tilted his head slightly, bringing the pegasus' face into his peripheral vision as well, she noticed. “Once upon a time, on faraway planet,” he began, as if telling a fairy tale. “Myself, Ivan, grew up on farm. Ivan knew not terror of war, of mortal fear and death. Ivan only knew of simple life, of growing things, of living and warmth.” He paused, and then nodded his head. “Ivan was happy, content. Life was happy, and hopeful.

“Then one day, war came,” he continued, his voice dropping into a near growl. “Cappellan soldiers land on Second Try, Ivan's planet, to reclaim it for House Liao. They crush defenders, and take planet for chancellor. Ivan and family not care, though. Battles fought far away, and what matters whose face on money, or which man pay taxes to?” The big man paused the to shake his head. “Family not care. We stay on farm, go to town much like Ponyville. We stay happy.

“Then things change,” Ivan said, and then fell silent for a long moment. “Soldiers come by farm. Davion soldiers, same ones defeated by Liao troops. Only a few of them, ten or so. They hurt, hungry, and tired. Their leader, lieutenant Hyazuki, come to ask to buy food.” The large human paused again, this time to close his eyes. “Papa good man, a kind man. He see they hurt, are hungry. He tells them, they must stay and rest. Hyazuki refused at first, said that they not want to put us in danger. Papa and mama insist, though. What else would they do, when they see such pain, such suffering and can do something to stop it? Lieutenant finally accepts. Soldiers stay, to rest and eat and heal. One man almost dead, but comes back and looks better every day.” The big man smiled at this, his eyes still closed. “They tell Ivan and brother Grisha stories, “tales of the bold” they called them. Soldiers stayed a week, and then go. Papa gives them maps, mama gives them food, sister Svetlanya gives them friendly kiss, and they disappear.

“Two weeks later, Cappellans come.” The human's hands - visible now in Fluttershy's vision as she turned her head to face the man - balled into huge fists at this, and his voice again turned into a growl. “They come in 'mechs, carrying dead bodies in hands. They found Davion soldiers, and killed them. No mercy, no offer of surrender, just death. They find maps on bodies, and follow them back to family's home.

“Ivan was in fields,” the large man said, his voice cracking ever so slightly, and a tear dripped out of his closed, right eye. “Helping Svetlanya with tractor repair on south fields. Grisha was home, mama tutoring him while papa worked in house. Ivan and Svetlanya go to house when we heard angry man over 'mech speakers, but we hid in corn fields to not be seen. We watch...” Ivan's voice trailed off at that, and he brought up a hand to rub his face. “Cappellans make example,” he finally added through gritted teeth. “Everything... everyone... gone.”

Flutteshy sniffed, the pain in the man's voice too much for her to bear in silence, even as her own memories brought up a similar 'example' from her recent experiences. Terror came with it, but was quickly subdued by a growing sense of empathy and sympathy that filled her with sorrow instead. “What...” she began, her voice so soft that she barely heard herself. Fluttershy gulped down some of her fear and hurt, and then tried again. “What did you do then?”

“Ran,” Ivan answered, a hint of shame coloring the otherwise pained response. “Unarmed farmers against BattleMechs? Less painful ways to commit suicide,” he added bitterly. “So we ran. We ran far and fast and hid when Cappies look for us.

“Was dark time,” he continued, his voice losing some of its harsh tone to replace it with sadness. “Ivan and Svetlanya had no money, no jobs, could not go to extended family, wanted to keep them safe. Hope fades, world grows dark, and fear always present.” He opened his eyes then, yet Fluttershy saw that his stare was unfocused, distant, as if he were looking at something that wasn't quite there. “We eventually get to city, join refugee camps there. We spent long time, eating poor rations from Liao's shallow, half-hearted largesse. We figure out soldiers no longer looking for us, if they ever had been, but it not helps much. Dreams plague Ivan at night, watching it all happen again, and again, and again. It got so bad, Ivan not wanted to go on,” the large man said, his voice soft and quiet. “Life was empty, cold, without reason, without hope.

“Svetlanya, though, was different.” Ivan paused then, and he closed his eyes again and let a small smile grace his features. “She was always strong, always hopeful, always caring. She talk to Ivan, say the right things, and we kept going. Ivan kept going.” He paused then to sigh, and then shook his head. “She was kind. Helped other refugees too, spoke to many, and helped them with many things.”

Fluttershy lowered her head a bit as Ivan's words dredged up feelings from deep within her. “She... she sounds like a good po- person,” the yellow pegasus said, looking down at the floor.

“She is,” Ivan agreed. Then he opened his eyes, and for the first time shifted around on the couch to look directly at Fluttershy. The timid pony looked back up at the noise and then tensed automatically, yet remained still as her eyes met the human's, and to her surprise Fluttershy saw a deep well of emotions stirring within. Pain, sadness, hope, joy, and concern seemed to pour out and towards the little pony sitting on the floor. “She helped Ivan so much,” the large man spoke, “that Ivan decide to do same. To keep others from feeling what he felt by using her words to help them.

“Do you want to know what she said to Ivan, little pony?” Ivan asked, staring intently into Fluttershy's eyes. The yellow pegasus felt tears start to form as her emotions ran higher and higher, each one fighting with the other for dominance, and part of her wanted to run again; to run and not look back, to flee the words she knew would break the deadlock in her mind between her terror and her kindness. Yet, she could not look away, and briefly she realized that she understood how animals felt when she used her Stare.

All of these thoughts and emotions raged on in silence for a few moments that seemed like eternity to the pegasus. Finally, though, Fluttershy gulped and then nodded. “P-please,” she said, the one word all she could manage.

Ivan didn't reply right away, but instead slowly brought up a large hand and slowly reached it out towards Fluttershy. The pegasus sucked in a breath, but she held herself still as the meaty appendage was laid upon her head with featherlight touch. Tenuous though it was, Fluttershy felt a strong warmth spread from the gentle contact, and she felt her fear subside.
“She told me, that this life is not always good to us,” Ivan began, and gave a brief, sad shake of his head. “Terrible things can happen to us all, whether rich or poor, wise or foolish, noble or commoner, there will sorrow and pain. Sometimes, it will feel like you cannot handle it, that you are being eaten from the inside and nothing can stop it. It will feel that nobody can help you, and that all hope is lost.

“But hope is never lost,” Ivan continued, and gave a light, quick pat on the pegasus' head. “The dark times are but a night we must endure until the dawn comes and drives away the pain. And we will endure. Because it is what we have always done; We endure for the lost ones, to keep their memory alive. We endure for our friends and family, who would suffer from our loss should we surrender to despair. And we endure for ourselves, because our lives have meaning beyond what we can fathom. Each of us touches thousands of other lives in our time, shaping them as ours is shaped, and we will endure for them, because without us their world is dimmed, and the darkness we so fear is made ever closer to their hearts.

“So we survive, we endure, and we live. Not in fear of death, for it comes to us all eventually. Not in fear of pain, for to know pain is to know you are alive. No, we live to serve, to be there for others when they need us, and to take their help when we need it ourselves. In being kind to them, we are kind to ourselves, and in receiving their kindness, we reflect it back upon them. Such is good. Such is life.”

Fluttershy let out a tiny, squeaky sob as Ivan paused for a moment, and she felt tears start to run down her face as the human started to lightly pet her head and mane with a gentle hand. “Your friends say you are scared to leave here. To go out and live. Ivan say to you, Fluttershy, that you must endure, and you will endure. Because you mean so much to so many, because you can and will do so much good for others, and because your life is yours. It does not belong to to the fear, it does not belong to the darkness, and it does not belong to the evil men and women of the world. Your life is precious beyond measure, a treasure that you can share with others, or hide it away in some dark hole. It will be safer in the hole, but it is out in the world where it will really shine. Where you will shine, and bring light and hope to your friends.”

A moment of silence, too brief to measure yet too long to ignore, washed over the room. Then Fluttershy's sobs started again, and then became louder and more frequent, until she lowered her head to the floor, covered it with her hooves, and started bawling. The pegasus lost herself to the storm of emotions that battered and broke the terror that had been consuming her for over a week, and she felt it dissolve into a sea of regret at the actions she had taken since that dark day. So lost she was that Fluttershy didn't even flinch or move as she felt large, strong hands reach down and grab under her forelegs where they reached her chest and then lifted her up and over until she was lying on what a distant part of her recognized as Ivan's lap. The distraught pegasus seized on this by turning her head and burying it in the huge infantryman's chest even as she continued to bawl. Those same strong arms held her lightly as the hurt poured out, and for once in her life Fluttershy didn't worry about anyone else as she let her universe implode until it was just her, Ivan, and the pain and joy of living.

Four figures quietly extricated themselves from Fluttershy's cottage in the night. They closed the door behind them and then silently walked together until they crossed the bridge in front of the yellow pegasus' house. Once there, the sole human turned to face three tearful ponies. “I think your friend is going to be okay,” James said, keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing the pair in the cottage. And to keep it from cracking, the mercenary thought as he absentmindedly rubbed a hand against his wetted eyes.

The unicorn of the three nodded her head at that. “Th-thank you,” Rarity said, her own voice barely under control. She sniffed briefly and then continued. “I... I had no idea your kind could be so deep.”

“We often surprise ourselves with it,” James half joked in reply, and then let out a very brief chuckle. Then he took a moment to look up at the cottage before returning his gaze to the ponies with him. “It might be best if you all just went home for the night. Even after she's done crying, Fluttershy will be very tired, and a good night's sleep will start her off on the right track to recovery.”

Rarity nodded to the commander at the suggestion. “I think that is a very wise idea,” she said, and then bowed slightly. “Goodnight, mister McKenna. And... thank you again.”

James smiled as the other two ponies echoed their friend's sentiment, and then waved as they turned and walked off. The smile widened into a grin as he heard Pinkie Pie say “See? I told you Ivan would help,” followed by the sound of groans.

James looked up as the door to Fluttershy's cottage opened an hour later, and Ivan stepped out. The burly man closed the door and then stood still as his eyes adjusted to the lower light around him, but soon enough he saw the commander sitting patiently on one of the stone walls that lined the path leading away from the pegasus' home. A few moments' walk was all it took for the infantryman to reunite with his employer and friend, who stood up as Ivan approached. “Thank you, Ivan,” James said, his voice respectful in tone. “I know that wasn't easy for you.”

Ivan nodded, and then gestured for James to lead them off. “Ivan happy to help,” the larger man said as the two began to walk back towards where the Heart of Steel rested. “Pinkie Pie tell Ivan all about Fluttershy. Fluttershy is good pony, and strong. Stronger than she knows.” The normally outgoing man fell silent in contemplation then, and James let the silence grow as he knew that his friend was deep in thought.

Then suddenly, Ivan stopped walking. James did as well, and then turned to face the large infantryman. “One thing you should know, commander,” Ivan said as he gave James a steady, piercing look. “Bad men made Fluttershy cry,” he added, his voice dripping with malice. “For that, we make them pay.”

James could only nod at that.

Chapter 12 - Gathering Clouds

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Desperadoes Main Camp
Manehattan, Occupied Zone
September 18th AD 3070/1023 RC

“Are you sure about this?” O'Connell asked, his voice gruff.

Kilroy shrugged from where he stood next to his commanding officer. “Not entirely,” he said, answering not only for himself but also for the pale blue unicorn pony standing nearby. And no doubt listening in, as well, the second in command of the Desperadoes thought. “But if you want help, boss, this is one of our better bets.”

Garth grunted at that as he crossed his arms. “But are these griffons worth it, though?” He asked, even as he peered to the northern sky, dark as it was with the sun setting to the west. “If they were a real power to contend with then shouldn't they have been at the horse-things' throats before we came?”

“Given what the big white one did, are you surprised they're not?” Kilroy countered.

“Humph,” O'Connell grunted. “Fair enough. So how are they supposed to help us anyway?”

“Bodies on the ground,” Kilroy said, and then smirked a bit. “Or in the air, anyway. There's still a good many of them, and they're supposed to be vicious.” He paused then to glance towards Trixie, who had the good presence of mind to shuffle a bit at the brief silence. “Or so I have been told,” Kilroy added, and then turned back to O'Connell. “But if they're anything like the old myths that half the stuff here is like, then they should be fierce enough.”

“I'll believe it when I see it,” O'Connell said. “Speaking of which, I'm guessing that's them?” He asked, raising an arm to point towards a cluster of specks that had appeared in the darkening sky.

“Looks like 'em,” Kilroy replied, and then lifted up a pair of binoculars he was carrying to his eyes. A quick focus and zoom later revealed the image of twelve creatures that he recognized from mythology. “Yup, that's them alright,” he said, and then lowered the binoculars. “Twelve of 'em.”

“Two from each tribe,” Trixie added, risking the ire of the humans for speaking out of turn. “That is the traditional griffon arrangement for negotiations.”

Garth shot the little pony a harsh look, but otherwise let her interruption slide. “Good,” he said, and then reached down for a radio handset clipped to his belt, which he quickly brought up to his mouth. “Grimes, we got our guests coming in from the north, twelve of 'em.”

“I have them on radar,” the voice of the Red Skye's captain replied. “I'll have fire control mark them as neutral.”

“Good, but keep an eye on the scopes for any surprises,” O'Connell replied, and then returned the handset back to his belt after Grimes' affirmative reply. “Alright, let's get the others and make these guys welcome.”

“I would have never thought flying over a pony city would be so easy,” Garadan quietly spoke, as he flew in loose formation with his second.

“It's not flying over it that's hard, it's doin' it without being bothered by the guards,” the feisty female at his side replied. “Even when I had my papers, they still followed me like I was about to drop down and snatch a foal.”

Garadan nodded his head to her. “I will take your word for it, Gilda,” he said. “I never understood how these ponies think, anyway.”

“Neither do I,” Gilda muttered under her breath. She then cleared her throat and spoke a bit louder as she pointed with a forepaw. “Looks like that's them down there.”

“I would think so,” Garadan agreed, having also spotted the strange egg-shaped structure sitting amongst the tall buildings. He immediately adjusted his wings and started to descend, prompting Gilda and the other nearby griffons to follow. They all remained silent as they flew, retaining the typically stoic composure of the griffon race. As they drew lower, though, even Garadan found himself a bit bewildered as the true scope of the war machines the invaders had with them, many of which were gathered in rows outside the building-sized craft that he had been told could move at will. I will believe that when I see it, the older griffon thought, as he and the others spiraled downward. His keen eyes located a patch of ground that was brightly illuminated by electric lights in the growing night, carefully positioned between the massive ship and the war machines. Standing at the edge were six figures, two of which were ponies, and the other four being something Garadan had never seen before. Must be those “humans” the missive spoke of, he reasoned.

As he descended, one of the ponies sprang into the air and flew upwards, revealing itself as a pegasus. Garadan and the others pulled themselves to a hovering stop as the green pony flew up to meet them, instantly wary of any potential tricks.

“Greetings,” the flying pony said. “Major Garth O'Connell bids you welcome. I will lead you to the landing to meet him.”

Garadan raised an eyebrow at that. So, they either know of griffon customs, or learned of them, he thought, and his opinion of the strangers rose a tick. “Very well, lead us down,” he said aloud, and then followed when the green pegasus turned and then headed back down to where she had been standing a few moments prior.

As the new arrivals landed, they took careful, guarded looks around them to gauge the situation. Garadan gave the immediate area a cursory glance himself before he turned his attention to the bipedal figures standing before him. At first glance, part of him felt like dismissing the creatures, so soft and incapable they looked, even when compared to ponykind. Yet as he looked closer and peered into their faces, Garadan saw that they were studying him and the other griffons as thoroughly and with the same practiced eye of a predator looking for soft spots. So, perhaps the rumors are true? Garadan found himself intrigued, and he decided to take the initiative and stepped forward. “I am Garadan, of the Flying Strikes clan. I thank you for your hospitality,” he said, and gestured to the pegasus that had flown up to greet them as he spoke the second sentence. The other griffon clan representatives followed suit within moments, and soon they had all offered their traditional greetings.

The scene fell silent after the last griffon spoke, though it was brief as the the creature in the center of the group shifted on his feet and then dropped his arms from where they had been crossed over his chest. “I'm major Garth O'Connell, commanding officer of the Desperadoes Mercenary Group and its first company, and I welcome you personally to this recently liberated city. On my right is captain Gregory Kilroy, my second in command and leader of the second company, and on my left are captain Sara Tanaka, commander of third company, and commander Zachery Carver, the leader of our air wing.

“And with us are two who have seen the light,” O'Connell continued, with a wave of his hand towards the two ponies standing off to Kilroy's right. “Trixie and Seabreeze, both of whom are advisors as we extend our rule over this land.”

Garadan cast a hard eye over the two ponies and silently questioned what would make any one of the ponies turn on their own kind. He got an immediate and easy answer with Trixie as she puffed herself up a bit: Pride. So easy to use, such a curse on those who value it greatly, Garadan thought, momentarily casting his thoughts to Gilda before considering the green pegasus. This one, though, is mad, he thought, seeing the crooked smile on her face and one of her eyes twitching. Best steer clear of her. He forced his attention back to the human leader and then nodded, his taking the leader earlier having made him the leading delegate by default. “So, we have come as bidden. I take it you will not waste our time?” He asked bluntly.

O'Connell smirked at that, and then nodded. “I most certainly won't,” he said, and then waved for the griffons to follow him towards the Red Skye. The gathering slowly fell in behind him, the griffons forming a parallel column to that of the humans and ponies with their primary delegates up front. “In fact, I think you will all appreciate what we offer.”

“Oh?” Garadan asked, and then glanced at his equals for a moment to make sure no one else wanted to speak up. “And what exactly do you offer?”

“Change,” O'Connell answered as he started leading the groups up the Skye's 'mech embarkation ramp. “I've read some of the texts the ponies” - Garadan noticed a hitch in the man's voice at that word - “have written on your kind. Many of them are quite unkind.”

“That's 'cus ponies have feathers for brains,” Gilda said from near the middle of the Griffon procession. Garadan cast a warning look back at her, but otherwise refrained from the usual rebuke. Because she's right; they do have feathers for brains, the elder griffon thought.

“Quite right,” O'Connell replied to Gilda's statement. “Most of them aren't very bright. Fortunately, there are exceptions,” he added, and then gestured towards Trixie and Seabreeze again. “These two being amongst them. The others may even come around in time, though before then someone will have to remove the corrupting influence of their entrenched government first.”

Garadan didn't reply to that. Point of fact, he could not, as he and the other griffons reached the main level of the lower 'mech bay and promptly froze in place to take in the varied and remarkable sights. Thy recovered soon enough, however, and then turned to see O'Connell smiling broadly. “And that is where we come in. I know you have had problems with the local royalty before. Well, my unit took one of them out, and the other has been hiding in their capitol ever since.”

“Truly?” One of the other griffon delegates asked, sounding surprised. “You killed one of the royal sisters?”

At this, O'Connell's smile faded a bit, and a brief hitch came in his mannerisms. “Mostly,” he said, a bit of a growl in his voice. “We fought and beat the white one. Shot her good with a laser.” Garth mentioned this last part with a vengeful smirk, though it was brief. “Her servants carried her off before we could finish the job, but even if she isn't dead from being hit by an anti-armor weapon, she's going to be in the hospital for a long, long time to come.”

The griffon delegates turned to each other and started to mutter amongst themselves. Garadan refrained from such a display, though even he felt his mind boggling at the concept that Celestia herself had been driven from the battlefield. That eternal pox upon our kind struck down? Even if she is not dead, she is vulnerable. I wonder...

He put such thoughts aside as O'Connell resumed speaking. “So you can see I'm not blowing smoke about our abilities to enact change. However, like all beings, we are not all-powerful; we need to sleep and eat at times, like anyone else. There's only so many of us, and so we need help.”

“And so you turn to us,” Garadan said, his tone making it a statement. “For what purpose?”

O'Connell smiled his usual, almost insincere smile again. “As I said, there are only so many of us. What we need is numbers, chiefly large numbers of beings willing to work with us to do the things we cannot. A BattleMech – which is what we call our war machines – is immensely powerful and can take land, but they cannot hold it. What we need are individuals on the ground, and in your case, in the air, to watch what we take from the royals, to keep the pony populace in line, and to fight the sorts of fights that a giant metal machine isn't suited for. And from what I've read, you guys are the most vicious, tenacious, and bloody fighters on this world.” O'Connell paused at that to nod a salute to the delegates. “Which makes you some of the best allies mechwarriors like us could have.”

Silence fell over the two groups for a few moments as the griffons absorbed and considered O'Connell's words. Finally, Garadan spoke up again. “Of course, the question becomes, what do we get out of such an alliance?”

Garth smiled again. “Besides the obvious reward of power second only to us humans, I also promise you living space here in the pony lands, and the ability to settle wherever you want. And of course, we'd restore your hunting rights.”

To say the last item got the griffons' attentions would be an understatement, as they turned and locked their gaze onto the human leader almost as one. A few of them stole looks at the two ponies in the other group and found them suddenly uncomfortable, though neither raised a voice in protest. For his part, Garadan flicked his gaze to glance at Gilda out of the corner of his eyes; a look the younger griffon reciprocated instantly. “That is an interesting proposal,” Garadan said, turning his attention to O'Connell. “But how would order be maintained? Surely the ponies wouldn't want to be subject of that sort of treatment.”

Garth grinned again, and this time it not only seemed sincere, but also frightening. “Oh, governments have gotten away with worse back where we come from,” he said, with a feigned nonchalance. “Fortunately, there are quite a few books that detail such things.” He didn't mention, of course, that those books were documentaries of past atrocities, as well as a few modern ones. “And what it all boils down to is if you keep the ponies afraid and have enough power to rapidly quash any uprising, then you can keep them in check well enough.”

“And ponies certainly are easily scared,” Gilda muttered quietly, barely loud enough for Garadan to hear her.

The elder griffon nodded almost absentmindedly, and then focused his gaze on O'Connell again. “I think this shall be an interesting discussion.”

Sweet Apple Acres
Ponyville, Equestria
September 19th

Johannes “Hermes” Schneider looked out over the unploughed field he stood in and took in the sights around him. On his left some distance away stood the Heart of Steel, and further beyond that the Apple Family homestead. To his right was a part of the ponies' orchard that seemed to have died off en masse, leaving the area clear of any workers and making the area perfect for what was planned today.

In front of him were the reasons he was outside early this morning, and Schneider coolly cast his gaze along the two ranks of ponies that had been detached from captain Starbuck's command for “familiarity training.” Apparently the only ponies from their army who actually have faced O'Connell and his men are the pegasuses, Schneider thought, his education ensuring that he would use the proper English way of referring to the plural noun of a winged pony. Though to be fair, Merry Olde England never did have to solve that problem, did they? The thought amused him briefly as he looked over the fourteen ponies, seven each of the earth and unicorn variety, selected by Starbuck to partake in the training the humans offered.

They were all “Guards”; regulars who made a career out of serving their nation, as opposed to the “Army” which was a temporary inflation of the Equestrian armed forces in times of war. The distinction and what it meant had been explained to Schneider and the other humans the day before when plans for this training and the upcoming actions against the Desperadoes were being made, and for a moment “Hermes” reflected again on what he would have to change from the usual routine. Well, no sense on putting this off any longer, he told himself, and then cleared his throat. “Greetings gentle... ponies,” he said, somewhat haltingly as he was still unused to such an odd form of address. “My name is Johannes Schneider. I will be conducting the training today, along with our infantry commander, mister Ivan Rogov.” Schneider paused to turn and gesture behind and to his right, where the imposing giant of a man stood next to some metal storage crates that had been brought out for today's work. “I have been told that your commanding officer has picked you because he feels you are his best.” Schneider paused again and then glanced to the left now a fair distance away where captain Starbuck and several ponies from the nearby town stood to watch the proceedings. “Hopefully we won't be testing that statement anytime soon,” Hermes continued, and returned his attention to the “trainees” in front of him. “But for now I will expect you to pay close attention and give me your best efforts. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir!” The fourteen soldier ponies replied, their voices loud and precise. Their tone was of obedience and precision, yet tinged with enough pride to give a measure of their self-worth.

Schneider nodded appreciatively at that, finding satisfaction that these were indeed professionals. “Good. Now, firstly we are going to introduce you to the kinds of weapons that you will be facing in the fight against the Desperadoes, starting with small arms,” Hermes continued, and then turned and gestured to Ivan. The burly man quickly crouched to pick up a particular crate and then carried it forward with ease. He placed it unbidden in the space between Schneider and the trainees, before he stepped back to let Schneider take the forefront again.

“The first thing to know,” Johannes spoke, while Ivan was still moving about. “Is that all weapons, regardless of design, exist to deliver energy to a target in sufficient quantity and a quick enough time-frame to disrupt its physical structure.” He knelt down after Ivan had stepped back, and then quickly began to work the latches holding the crate closed. “This is true even of weapons like swords, spears, and arrows. Those weapons, however, rely on the user applying physical energy from his or her own muscles, thus limiting its output. Whereas weapons like these,” he added, as he removed four pistols and then laid them on the ground briefly while he closed the crate's lid. “All incorporate some form of concentrated and stored energy that is then released in a controlled manner.” Schneider placed the pistols on top of the crate at this and then stood to gesture at the four weapons. “I will demonstrate these weapons to you and explain their function so that you will better understand their advantages and disadvantages so that you can adapt to the battlefield you will find yourself in.

“Now, first we need some targets.” Schneider paused at this, and then glanced around. “Uh, Ivan, weren't you supposed to have those set up already?” He asked the larger man in a slightly lower voice.

“Ivan get Pinkie Pie to help,” the giant replied with a satisfied grin. “She make targets.”

Schneider frowned at the taller man, and then started to look around. “Well, where is sh-” he began, only to cut himself off as he suddenly saw the aforementioned pink pony standing right behind him. “Ah!” He yelped out in shock.

“Hiya mister Hermes!” Pinkie said, grinning widely, as was her idiom. “I brought those dummies like Ivan wanted though I don't know why you'd call them dummies since they don't breathe so they can't really talk and how can you know if they're dumb or not if you can't talk to them or is that the point that they can't talk so they're not very smart?”

Schneider blinked at her words, feeling dumbfounded that Pinkie had sneaked up on him. And carrying two large target dummies, as well? He asked himself, as he gawked at the two man-sized, burlap sacks with crude red and white targets painted on them that sat on the pink pony's back. “Oh, okay,” he said, his voice half bewildered. “Well then, would you please go set them up for us?” He asked, hoping to use the time it would take her to regain his composure.

“Sure!” Pinkie replied, her smile widening just a bit. “Where do you want them?”

“Oh,” Schneider said, and then twisted his upper body to point towards the leafless trees, his gaze following the point of his hand. “Just over... there...” Johannes blinked hard as he saw the two targets already set up, propped up by wooden stakes in front of one of the dead-looking trees. He froze like that for only a second before he whipped his body back around to see Pinkie Pie standing where he'd seen her a moment before, now sans dummies. “H- how?” Hermes asked, his voice breaking a bit. “How the Hell did you do that?”

“Do what?” Pinkie asked, her cheerful smile still in place. “Oh, you mean put the dummies up? I just went over there and did it. Easy peasy one two threesy, as Dashie likes to say.”

Johannes Schneider considered himself a sane and rational man who was open-minded to new ideas. He'd even started accepting that “magic” was a force here. Yet at the moment, he felt like what order was left in the universe was slowly ebbing away.

A large, meaty hand was laid gently on his shoulder then, and Schneider turned his head to see Ivan looking at him with a sympathetic expression on his face. “Ivan think you need moment or two,” the taller man said. “Go stand with watching ponies, while Ivan moves to next demonstration. We come back to your part, da?”

Johannes just nodded at that, as he found himself too dumbfounded to speak. Instead he just turned and started to walk towards the small crowd of ponies in the distance. Though he did make sure to step widely around a still-grinning Pinkie Pie, at whom he shot confused glances now and then.

“Now,” Ivan said, speaking loud enough to be heard as he turned to face the guards ponies still waiting for their training. Most of them looked almost as bad as Schneider had, though one earth pony looked almost bored. “One moment,” Ivan said, and then turned and went back to the stack of crates. He opened up one and pulled something large out from inside before he turned and then walked back. Carefully, he set his burden down on top of the crate, over the pistols Schneider had pulled out, and then cleared his throat.

“Ivan is heavy weapons specialist,” Ivan said, and then patted the object he'd just retrieved. “And this, is Sasha. She is Bearhunter super-heavy autocannon for infantry, weighs forty kilograms, and fires custom-made two-hundred bit cartridges at ten-thousand rounds per minute,” he explained, having already converted the cost of the ammunition to Equestrian currency to make his point, though he exaggerated the costs somewhat. “It costs four hundred thousand bits to fire this weapon for twelve seconds.”

He paused to let that information sink in. The guards ponies across from him all took on looks of surprise and even a mild bit of horror at the sheer cost of the weapon. Before any of them could say anything in reply, though, Ivan picked up a pair of orange ear protectors from his belt and then placed them where they were designed to go. “You may want to cover your ears,” Ivan shouted towards the guards ponies, and then glanced back at Pinkie Pie. His mind made no special note to see that she had somehow produced a pair of her own orange protectors, which already sat over her ears. Instead he turned to his autocannon, lifted it up, and then turned to face the targets Pinkie had set up. Ivan double-checked the ammo feed to make sure the short belt for the demonstration was loaded, and then hefted the bulky weapon up until he could properly set it against his body to absorb the recoil.

Twilight Sparkle watched Schneider approach where she, captain Starbuck, and several townsponies stood. The flabbergasted look on his face had faded a bit, but he was still in a state and Twilight found herself smiling sadly in sympathy for him. “Don't worry,” the unicorn said, as the human drew near. “Pinkie does that to everyone here,” she added, feeling some pride at remembering to use the more inclusive pronoun.

“How does she do it, though?” Schneider asked, relief showing on his face and in his voice as confirmation that he wasn't crazy helped ease his mind. “Is it that magic of yours?”

“Uh, not really,” Twilight said, and then blushed and looked down. “Actually, I tried to find out what it was once. I ended up even more frustrated than you,” she added, and then looked up, her visage still sympathetic, if also showing some embarrassment. “That's how I know what you're going through right now.”

“Pinkie has also been the subject of a guards bulletin,” Starbuck interjected. “Telling us not to bother trying to incarcerate her if she finds her way onto the castle grounds. Firstly because she is an element of harmony, of course,” Starbuck added, with a nod to Twilight. “But also because we were told it would be wasted effort. Something about impossible contortion, I believe.”

Schneider gave the two ponies a look of disbelief, and then shook his head. “I'm going to go insane here, aren't I?” He asked, rhetorically.

“If you live in Ponyville, at least,” Twilight muttered, hoping to keep any of the nearby townsponies from hearing her.

Fortunately, that seemed the case, as the other ponies were more interested in something going on back at the demonstration. Even Schneider noticed this, and he glanced back briefly to make sure Ivan was still working at it. Then he did a double-take as he recognized “Sasha” and saw Ivan aiming it, and then let out a small noise of surprise. “Everyone, cover your ears!” He shouted before he followed his own advice and clapped his hands to the side of his head.

Although surprised at the sudden outburst, the various ponies were already alert from Pinkie's antics, and so they quickly obeyed Schneider's command. Almost as one the group dropped to their haunches so they could bring up forelegs to plant hooves over their ears, even as Schneider did the same with his hands.

It proved a prudent measure as Ivan fired the autocannon at the targets Pinkie had set up. A meter-long gout of flame erupted from the multi-barrel weapon as it spat out a brief but terrible stream of shells that tore into, apart, and through the two burlap sacks before the shrapnel and unexploded rounds went on to rip apart the dead-looking tree behind them. The thunderous noise from the cannon was nearly painful, even at the distance Schneider and the ponies stood at and despite the hands and hooves covering their ears.

Fortunately it was only a brief, one-second burst – that cost us several hundred C-bills, Schneider mentally grumbled – and so the group returned to their normal stances almost immediately.

“That was impressive,” Starbuck offered. “Is that a typical weapon?”

“Not by a long shot,” Schneider replied. “That's a Bearhunter autocannon; only the Clans make them. We were lucky and got it with the salvage from our last raid on the Ghost Bears.”

Starbuck gave the human a tired look at that. Schneider suddenly remembered who he was talking to and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, I keep forgetting. That stuff is common knowledge back home.”

“Sort of how Pinkie Pie's antics are here?” Starbuck countered, a smug grin spreading on his face.

“Is that what they're calling them now?” A familiar voice suddenly spoke up, once again from right behind Schneider. Once again, he was startled and spun around, though this time he was joined in surprise by Twilight and Starbuck. Their eyes alighted upon the familiar visage of Pinkie Pie, who stood there with her orange ear protectors clamped onto her neck, smiling as usual. “Did I scare you guys again?” She asked, the smile drooping slightly.

“Just a bit, Pinkie,” Twilight replied, even as she tried to catch her breath. “You really should learn to stop sneaking up on people.”

“Aww, but it's so much fun!” Pinkie replied, her smile back to its normal dimensions. “Plus Hermes needs to loosen up a bit and relax because he's not enjoying himself here since we're all magical and he has a hard time wrapping his head around all of it isn't that right Hermes?” The pink pony spouted this off quickly, and then looked to the human for her answer.

Schneider blinked at the question, and then blushed a bit. “Look, I don't know if the commander put you up to this or not, but I'm fine,” he said, sounding insistent.

“Oh mister McKenna didn't put me up to this: I did!” Pinkie Pie replied, bouncing up as she referred to herself. “You just seem so grumpy I want to make you smile so you don't feel like you're going insane like you just said to Twilight a few moments ago.”

Johannes could only stare in silence for a moment as his mind grappled with the pink pony's speech. “How could you hear that when you were still over there?” He asked, while he pointed towards where Ivan was even now lecturing the guardsponies in his broken accent.

“That's a good question,” Pinkie Pie admitted, and then looked perplexed as she raised a forehoof up to rub her chin in contemplation. “I'm not sure if I could answer it without being slapped by a fish.”

A moment of silence met that statement. “Pinkie,” Twilight finally said. “What do you mean, slapped by a fish?”

“If I explained that then I'd definitely get slapped by one!” Pinkie Pie replied, her tone a mix of exasperation and giddy amusement. “Besides, shouldn't Hermes be working with the guardsponies?”

Schneider gave the pink pony a hard look, despite the fact that he felt the tug of duty at her words. After a moment, he shook his head and sighed. “Yeah, I guess I should get back,” he admitted, and then started to walk back towards the demonstration area. As he passed by Pinkie Pie, though, he paused and then turned to give her a steady look. “But I'll be keeping an eye on you.”

“Okey dokey Loki!” Pinkie Pie replied, with a wide smile on her muzzle. Her unerring cheerfulness and oddly penetrating gaze disturbed the human slightly, and he turned to resume his walk back towards familiarity.

For her part, Twilight Sparkle gave a sympathetic shake of her head as she watched Schneider move off. “Pinkie, you really need to tone it down a bit,” she offered. “Some of these humans are concerned enough about regular magic without your, er, special abilities to confound them.”

Pinkie Pie shrugged at that as she turned to her purple friend. “Oh, I know. But the plot really needs to get moving before the author starts tearing his hair out.”

Both Twilight and Starbuck, who had been watching quietly, gave the pink pony stupefied looks at that. “Who?” The former asked.

“What?” The guardspony added.

Before Pinkie could answer, an object fell from the sky and landed in the dirt betwixt the three ponies. All of them looked down to see a small trout, lying intact and still twitching, glistening in the morning sun.

“Oh. I'd better go help Ivan and Hermes some more,” Pinkie said, her tone as cheerful as ever, while Twilight and Starbuck looked up at her, completely flabbergasted. “See you two later!” The party pony added, and then turned and hopped off in her usual manner towards where Hermes had even now rejoined Ivan.

Still in shock, Twilight and Starbuck both looked up. The unicorn breathed in a sigh of relief right away, as she recognized the familiar vanilla and pink coloration of a particular friend flying to the east. “Oh, Fluttershy must have dropped it,” Twilight said, and then looked to the pegasus guard on her right with a sheepish grin. “She's been working overtime to feed her animal friends since Ivan helped her come out of her shock, and she has a couple of ferrets who love fish.”

“Ah,” Starbuck said, his face showing some relief as well. Still, a moment of silence passed between him and Twilight before the steel blue pegasus cast a brief glance off to where Pinkie was standing near Ivan, and then looked down at the fish again. “I think... I'm going to see how they're doing in the ship,” he said, and then turned and trotted off.

“I'll join you,” Twilight said, her tone uneasy and hurried as she sprinted briefly to catch up.

Deep within the upper 'Mech Bay of the Heart of Steel, two rose-colored eyes slowly peeked above the edge of a crate and then narrowed as their owner spotted her target. A tongue slipped out the side of her cyan muzzle and was firmly lodged between her teeth and lips as she slowly brought up a foreleg and reached out for her prize.

A flash of silver in the corner of her vision told that she'd been spotted, and she flinched backwards as the pointed device jabbed downwards. The aim was true, and metal speared through soft, fluffy material and drew forth the dark fluid that lay within.

“Don't ye touch me pancakes, lassie,” Andrew McCoy grated out in his usual, harsh tone, as he turned his full attention from the tech manual he was reading to the breakfast plate sitting on a spare ammo crate. “I dunna care if ya helpin' me or not, but God help if ya try tae take me breakfast.”

Rainbow Dash razzed the old human at that, as she stood up from the crouch she had used to sneak up on the master tech. “You don't scare me,” she said, defiantly.

McCoy chuckled darkly at that as he shifted the fork with his left hand and used it to cut a chunk off one of the pancakes on his plate. “That's only 'cuz ya dunna know me verra well,” he said, and then brought up the piece of pan-cooked goodness to his mouth.

“I know you're a cranky old coot,” Dash impertinently replied. “Also you're too slow to catch me, so I could take your food and be gone while you're still chewing.”

“Really, now?” McCoy asked, after he swallowed his bite, his tone nonchalant. “And ye think that's all ye need, eh?” He asked, as he took another bite.

“Of course it is,” Dash replied, indignant, and then tossed her head to the side in a smooth movement, which sent her mane flying for a moment. “I could swoop down and snatch the plate out from under you if I wanted to and you couldn't do a thing about it.”

“So why dinn' ya?” McCoy asked, between bites.

Dash shrugged at that. “I wanted to be sporting, yanno? Give you a fair chance,” she explained, and then smirked. “And even though it didn't work, I can always snatch the plate and get out of the ship before you could even stand up.”

“So why don't ya?” The elder human asked, before taking another bite.

“Maybe I will,” Dash countered, in a confrontational tone as she turned her head back to look up at the human, who was still a bit taller than her even while sitting down. “Maybe I'll just snatch it right now.”

“Be my guest,” McCoy added, and then rather heavily set his fork down on the plate.

Dash had her gaze drawn to the noise the flatware made, and she blinked when she saw a dish now bereft of the pancakes she had coveted. “Oh...” She said, dejected.

McCoy chuckled at that, and then stood from the stool he'd taken a rest on. “That'll teach ya a lesson, lassie,” he said, even as he paused to stretch and pop portions of his body. “Old age and treachery will win against youth an' inexperience any ol' day. Also, donna spend yer time talkin' 'bout doin' something, just do it.

“Speakin' o' which, time tae get back tae work,” the human added, and then waved the pony forward as he went to a temporary workbench only a couple of meters away. “C'mon, I know th' squids fed ye a whole stack o' pancakes earlier. Frankly I dunna know where ye put away all them calories,” McCoy said, glancing over his shoulder.

“It takes a lot of energy to fly,” Rainbow Dash protested, and then once again razzed the master tech. As she did, though, something caught her eye, and she looked down to see that McCoy's plate wasn't quite so empty. “Hey, ya left something,” she called to the human.

“Eh?” McCoy muttered from where he had begun to tinker at his current project. “Ach, jus' some bacon. Ye can have if ye want, th' doc said I ought tae cut back anyway,” he said, and then turned back to his work.

“Bacon?” Rainbow Dash asked, more to herself than of the human. When McCoy didn't reply, she turned her head down and then took a step forward to sniff at the single strip of red. Hmm, what is it? She wondered to herself. She hadn't been to any of the meetings between McKenna and the pony leadership, and so had no idea what this curious food item was. Smells weird, I wonder if it tastes weird? Dash pondered that for a moment, and then shrugged her wings. Well, only one way to find out.

I never thought that I'd be looking to find sanity in an alien spacecraft, Twilight Sparkle mused, as she and captain Starbuck passed the guard at the foot of the Heart of Steel's loading ramp. The human – protected by non-powered armor, Twilight had learned some time ago – simply waved at them, the various guards having come to recognize the ponies who visited frequently. But one thing I will grant the humans, most of them prefer order, the purple pony mused as she followed Starbuck into the cavernous lower 'Mech bay. As usual, several technicians, astechs, and even two of the Dark Horse Mechwarriors were about, working on one of the towering war machines. Add to that a lack of magic, and though they might be a bit dull at times, but at least they're consistent. Steady, even.

“ALRIGHT! WHICH ONE O' YE BOGLES BROKE TH' PONY?” The shouted question was loud enough to make both Starbuck and Twilight simultaneously jump in fright and wince from the sheer volume. The origin of the voice was easy enough to locate, especially as the speaker appeared on the open deck above and then leaned over the railing, his flustered face garnering the attention of everyone in the 'Mech bay. “If I find oot one o' ye played some sort o' trick on 'er I'll have ye repainting the hull! With a toothbbrush! In space! Without a bloody pressure suit!”

“That doesn't sound good,” Starbuck said, even as he spread his now healed wings. Twilight waited a moment to watch him leap into the air and fly upwards towards the commotion before she herself charged up a teleportation spell and then flashed to the deck above. There she blinked her eyes clear of the spell's after effects and watched as Starbuck landed on the deck only a few feet away from an irate McCoy, who was unmoved by either pony's flashy arrival.

“Ach, good, maybe ye can tell me what's wrong with yer friend,” the human tech said, as he turned to spit Twilight Sparkle on a hard gaze. He then brought up an arm and pointed off to Twilight's right, where the unicorn saw a work area set against the inner wall of the ship's hull. In that area were several benches, various odds and ends the purple pony didn't recognize, and just on the edge of it all was Rainbow Dash, who was sitting perfectly still on her haunches. Her face was set into a look of surprise and her gaze was unfocused in what was still traditionally called a “thousand-yard stare” despite centuries of using the Metric system.

Not that Twilight knew that, nor would have thought of it at the moment as she was instantly concerned for her friend. “Rainbow?” The purple unicorn asked, as she turned and walked over to her friend's side. “Are you okay?”

Dash didn't reply, but as Twilight studied her face, she could detect signs of movement in the cyan pegasus' jaw. Perplexed, Twilight looked around a bit and then noticed the syrup-covered plate and flatware sitting on the crate in front of her normally active friend. “Uhm, are you eating something?” The purple unicorn asked, as both Starbuck and McCoy moved over to join her in standing next to and in front of the frozen pony, respectively.

Rainbow Dash was frozen no longer, however, as she finally nodded to the question. Heartened by this reply, Twilight offered her friend a wan smile and then leaned forward a bit to put her head further into Dash's field of perception. “Well, what is it?” She asked, even as she noted small tears forming at the corner of the pegasus' eyes.

“This is...” Dash began, her voice quiet. “The most delicious thing I have ever tasted,” she added, after a pause, her tone betraying a tiny note of awe. Rainbow then fell quiet again as she resumed chewing, though it only lasted a moment before she swallowed the food and then turned to look up at McCoy. “Please tell me you have more of that?”

The elder human scoffed. “That's what got ye buggered up?” He asked, his tone derisive, though Twilight was observant enough to note that his shoulders relaxed somewhat. “O' course we got more bacon! Breakfast ain't breakfast 'less ye got some kind of meat!”

The three ponies reacted immediately to that: Starbuck and Twilight both flinched in surprise and horror, while Dash simply looked bewildered. “Wait, what?” The cyan pegasus asked, surprise coloring her voice. “What do you- You mean that- I just ate a piece of an animal?”

“Yeah? So what?” McCoy asked, confused. “Don't tell me yer one o' those nutjobs who act like eating meat is some kind o' sin?”

“Mister McCoy,” Starbuck interjected, his voice steady yet clearly revealing some shock. “Ponies are herbivores; we eat plants, not animals.”

“That a fact?” McCoy asked, sounding unconvinced. “Ye sure do eat a lot o' animal fat for herbivores.”

Twilight frowned at that, and then spoke up after casting a quick glance to make sure Dash wasn't about to vomit. “What do you mean?” She asked, confused. “We don't eat any animals, period.”

“I didn'ta say ya ate animals,” McCoy replied, and then crossed his arms and looked down at the ponies standing or sitting in front of him. “I said ye eat animal fats well enough. What did ye think was in butter, milk, and eggs, anyway? Magic, non-animal nutrients?”

Twilight Sparkle blushed at that, and a glance towards Starbuck showed that even he bit back a quick reply. “That's not the same,” Twilight countered, though her heart wasn't in it.

“Because th' milk an' eggs don't talk back?” McCoy pressed. “Well, I know th' commander's gone and told ye about humans bein' th' only talkers back home. So trust me, lassie,” he added, turning to Rainbow Dash as he spoke, “that bit o' flesh ye had dinna have a soul. Think of it as a plant that's so stupid it'd eat its own crap if ye let it. Because that's how bloody stupid livestock is where we come from.

“Now, if that's all that be wrong with ye, we've got some work tae do,” McCoy said, and then turned to walk back towards his project area. Despite his words, he went to work immediately without Dash and seemed to ignore the ponies behind him.

The trio of ponies watched him work for a bit, before Twilight turned to Dash and then placed a hoof on her friend's shoulder. “Are you okay, Rainbow?” The unicorn asked, concerned.

Dash hesitated a moment, and then nodded. “Yeah, I think so,” she replied, and then turned her head to give Twilight a faint smile. “It just spooked me a bit, yanno?”

“So you're not going to vomit all over the place?” Starbuck asked from the side, and then got a pair of surprised looks from the two mares. “I mean, that's what I'd do,” he explained, a bit sheepishly under the stares he was receiving.

“Nah, I think I'm good,” Dash replied, some of her usual energy seeping back into her voice. “Although, there's one thing I'm kinda worried about.”

“Oh?” Twilight asked, concerned for her friend. “What's that?”

Rainbow Dash paused, and then blushed as she turned to give a sheepish grin to Twilight Sparkle. “I really want some more bacon.”

“How's that?”

James McKenna looked over the recently-cleared stretch of land with an eye that only experience could give. “Looks good,” he said, and then glanced over to his daughter, who was standing next to him. “Melissa?”

“Gotta agree, dad,” the younger McKenna replied, and then turned to nod her head appreciatively at the large red pony who'd spoken first. “I'd be lying if I said I wasn't surprised, mister Apple. I didn't think anyone could make a full six-hundred meter runway so flat in only two days, let alone by themselves.”

Big Macintosh blushed slightly at the praise, though the orange pony standing next to him had no problem speaking up. “There ain't a pony better at usin' a plow than Big Mac, that's fer sure,” Applejack beamed, clearly proud of her sibling's work.

For his part, Macintosh just nodded. “Eeyup.”

James lightly shook his head at that. “You grow the best dang apples I've ever had, and you can do earthwork like nobody's business,” he added, and then grinned at the two ponies. “I've been on a lot of planets, and I ain't ever seen anything like it. You guys are really something.”

“Aw, shoot,” Applejack said, a bit embarrassed herself now. “T'ain't nothin', just some good ol' hard work an' a bit of earth pony magic.”

“If you guys could do that where we come from, you'd be rich,” Melissa interjected. “Heck, there are whole planets that barely manage to feed their populations on crappy land. They'd pay through the nose for some of that “earth pony magic” you mentioned.”

“Eeyup,” the fifth and final member of the group, quiet until now, spoke up. Edward “Eddie” Rodriguez, Melissa's wingman, smiled as the others laughed at his imitation of the large red pony, with whom the quiet pilot had found an odd kinship.

For his part, Big Macintosh simply grinned and lightly chuckled at the lighthearted jibe. “If y'all want a ride on th' Applebuck express, ya just need ta ask,” he said, with a smirk.

“I think I'll pass,” Rodriguez replied, a grin still on his face.

“In any case,” James interrupted, and then turned to tip the hat he wore towards the two ponies. “We greatly appreciate all the hard work y'all have done for us. Now that we have a proper runway we can offload our fighters and help the pegasi cover the air.”

Applejack gave the human a curious look. “They ain't gonna be as loud as that there ship of yours, are they?” She asked.

“Uhm,” James muttered, suddenly looking unsure. To his side Melissa became intensely interested in her fingernails, while Eddie simply stared off towards the horizon.

“Ugh,” Applejack grunted, as she facehoofed and then sighed. “Th' things Ah put up with for Equestria.”

“Eeyup.”

“Now don't you git started on me, Macintosh Apple,” Applejack said, as she rounded on her brother. “Ya know Ah do plenty 'round here along with all th' runnin' 'round with Twi and the girls.”

“Eeyup.”

“So you ain't gonna git uppity anymore?”

“Nnnope.”

The three humans all exchanged befuddled glances with one another as they observed the curious conversation. “So, uh,” Melissa began, and then waited until she had the two pony siblings' attentions. “They can be loud, yeah. The good news is, though, that it will only be for a little while.”

“Oh? How long do ya think?” Applejack asked, as she turned back to face the humans.

James opened his mouth to answer that, but bit off his words as a flash of light came from off to the left and startled the group. The humans all reacted quickly, as they snapped into crouches and pulled out their sidearms, while the two ponies simply spun around. All stared in shock as they saw two ponies, one cyan and one purple, stood only a few feet away regaining their bearings.

“You teleported us outside?” Rainbow Dash snapped, her voice and expression showing that she was already in full argument mode. “Twilight, there are apples on the ship!”

“You need to eat Equestrian apples!” The purple unicorn declared, her own face showing not only a desire to argue, but also a nervous tic that her friends had come to recognize.

“Those were Equestrian apples!” Dash countered. “I saw Applejack deliver them this morning!”

Twilight shook her head a bit. “Well, I still don't trust them,” she replied. “For all I know they dip them in fat and deep fry them!”

“Actually, deep fried apples are pretty tasty,” James interjected, rather forcefully, which made the two arguing ponies turn to look at him in surprise. “Especially if you get the seasoning just right,” he added, as all three of the humans put their weapons away.

“What, you mean like a fritter?” Applejack asked.

“Sort of, but fried by themselves without being made into a pastry first,” James explained.

The orange earth pony sat on her haunches at that, and then tapped her chin with a hoof as she thought. “Huh. That might work.”

“You are not helping, Applejack!” Twilight exclaimed, as she gave her friend a harsh look.

“Well maybe if'n ya explain what the problem is Ah could!” Applejack retorted.

“Twilight's gone nuts, that's what the problem is,” Rainbow interrupted, before the unicorn could speak. “She thinks I'm tainted or something and wants me to eat an apple before I start preying on the innocent or something like that.”

Twilight snapped up a foreleg at that and jabbed it to where Dash stood on her right, while she continued to face Applejack. “See? Since when does Rainbow use such a poetic turn of phrase?”

“Hey!” Dash snapped. “I have been reading more lately. And I'm not stupid!”

“Now nopony said ya are, Dash,” Applejack interjected. “An' 'fore either of y'all git started again, could somepony explain what the hay is goin' on?”

“What's going on?” Twilight echoed. “What's going on, is that they,” she pointed her foreleg towards the humans, now, “are a corrupting, insanity-inducing influence!”

James tilted his head, and then spoke in the brief silence that followed Twilight's declaration. “You've been speaking with my wife, haven't you?” He asked, nonchalant.

“Frankly, I think mom would call you an insane, corrupting influence than the other way around,” Melissa added, with a smirk.

“Eeyup,” Eddie elucidated.

“Aagh!” Twilight grunted, and then turned to trot a few feet away from the others. A moment of silence fell over the gathering, though soon enough Twilight sighed, and then glanced back to look at her friends. “If anyone needs me, I'm going to lock myself in the library for the rest of the day and consume a bottle of hard cider.”

The other six persons gave her a mix of confused looks. “You have a bottle of hard cider?” Rainbow Dash asked, sounding a bit envious.

“Not yet,” Twilight said, and then glanced to Applejack. “I'll pay you back tomorrow,” she added, and then disappeared in a flash of purple light.

“Aw, shucks, she's gonna raid th' apple cellar!” Applejack exclaimed, as she realized what the purple unicorn meant. She then hopped back to all fours and ran off. “C'mon, Big Mac! 'Fore she sets the whole place on fire!” AJ called to her brother, over her shoulder as she ran.

“Not again,” Macintosh groaned, as he ran off and followed his sister.

Silence fell over the group again, as each man, woman, and pony stood and tried to sort out the strange events. “Okay, what just happened?” Melissa asked, of no one in particular.

A tortured sigh answered her, and the humans looked over to see Rainbow Dash shaking her head. “All I did was have a piece of bacon from McCoy's breakfast,” she said, tiredly. “And then when I said I wanted some more Twilight freaked out and started babbling about Pinkie Pie and eldritch abominations and me being corrupted or something.”

“Uh,” Melissa murmured, and then glanced at her father, who simply looked on in quiet surprise. “Okay, setting aside miss Sparkle's response for the moment, did you know it was meat before you ate it?” The younger McKenna asked.

“No, of course not!” Dash replied, and then frowned a bit. “I didn't even know you guys ate meat. I just thought it was some fancy food of yours. That tastes really... really...” Her eyes glazed over at this, and the cyan pegasus let her mouth hang open for a moment. “Really good.”

The humans started to chortle at that. “Wow, that must've been some piece of bacon,” Melissa wryly observed.

“Well, to someone who hasn't had its delectable, savory flavor before, it would be,” Rodriguez chimed in. Then he turned to face the pegasus pony. “I'm concerned, though, miss Dash. I thought ponies were herbivores?”

“Err, yeah,” Dash said, and then blushed and grinned sheepishly as she sat on her haunches and brought up a foreleg to nervously rub the back of her head. “But like mister McCoy said, we do eat a lot of animal fat in milk and stuff. And then Twilight dragged me to doctor Farrell and said something about an expectorant, and doc Farrell said I would be fine without it and also something about we swallowed human digestive flowers or something. So I guess I'll be okay?” She paused and then shrugged at that. “At least, I don't feel sick or anything. Not after mister McCoy reminded me you guys are the only people where you come from.”

“Well, that's good to hear,” James said, a smile on his lips. “And the doctor probably said “digestive flora”; the bacteria that allows us to eat stuff like meat. With all the time you've spent around us, you've probably already got some living in you by now, so you'll be fine.”

“Eeew,” Dash said, and then stuck her tongue out between her front teeth. “I hated reading about that stuff in school. It always creeps me out, knowing that there's a bunch of those things in my belly.”

“Well, it beats the alternative,” Rodriguez offered. “Better them than being unable to get nutrition.”

“Yeah, and this means you can eat over at our ship more often,” Melissa added, and then grinned. “If you're up to it, I want to see if you can handle my father's infamous Chernobyl Chicken some night.”

“Uh,” Rainbow said, as a look of consternation crossed her face. “I'm not so sure about that. I mean, sure, that bacon was good and maybe I'll try some more of that. But anything else? I dunno.”

“Fair enough,” James interjected, as he held up a hand to garner everyone's attention. “In any case, Melissa, Eddie, we have work to get to back aboard the Steel.” He turned to the pegasus with them, and then nodded to her. “We'll see you later.”

“No problem,” Rainbow Dash said, and then smiled as she stood up on all fours and then stretched her wings. “I was feeling like a flight, anyway. Helping you guys can be really boring sometimes.”

“It can be, at that,” James replied, with a grin. He and the others turned and started off then, though the elder human paused and then looked back to where Rainbow was crouching to leap into the air. “Oh, one more thing, miss Dash,” he said, and then waited until the cyan pony turned her head to him. “My daughter's offer is a valid one: if you decide you want to try dining with us, you're always welcome aboard the Heart of Steel.”

Dash blushed at this, but she nodded and gave the human a smile. “Thanks. I'll think about it,” she said, and then bounded into the air and took off like a shot.

They watched her fly for a bit, before both Melissa and Eddie turned to face James. “So, off to the ship?” The younger McKenna asked.

“Yeah, before anything even more insane happens,” James added, in a voice so low he was almost muttering.

“I get the feeling this is par for the course around here, dad,” Melissa replied, and then shrugged as her father led them off. “Or haven't you noticed that this place is a bit on the cartoonish side?”

“Be careful there, Melissa,” James said, in mock reproach. “If your mother hears you adopting my ideas she might kick you out of the unit to save your sanity.”

“It's far too late for that, since you both raised me,” Melissa replied, with a smirk. Her amusement died, though, as more serious thoughts ran through her head. “But all that aside, I feel kind of weird about what just happened. Kinda like maybe miss Sparkle was right, yanno?” She asked, while glancing over at the two men she walked alongside. “Maybe we are corrupting them?”

“A disturbing thought,” Rodriguez said, contemplatively. “But then again, they do seem naïve at times. Perhaps it is less corruption, and more education about the harsh realities that exist beyond their safe borders?”

Melissa frowned at that. “Do we have any right to do so, though?”

“Maybe not,” her father interjected, and then sighed. “But it wasn't our decision to make. O'Connell forced this situation upon all of us.”

“Yeah,” Melissa agreed. “Still, I can't help but wonder if the cure is as bad as the disease.”

Neither James nor Eddie replied to this, and the group fell silent as they continued to walk back to the Heart of Steel.

Desperadoes Main Camp
Manehattan, Occupied Zone

Night was just falling as Garadan and Gilda walked sedately through the small camp the Desperadoes had set up around their ship. Such strange creatures, the elder griffon mused, as they headed towards the perimeter. In some ways like the ponies, with their preference for tools and orderly, civil behavior. Yet so much like us, in their desire to dominate, to hunt, and to fight viciously. He was beginning to respect them, if only for the latter attributes. Truly a far more dangerous sort of creature to share a world with, yet one that is so lesser in numbers that they cannot hope to survive without our help to control the ponies they have conquered. A smile traced up the sides of his mouth from where his beak met flesh. And O'Connell and Kilroy know it, even if the others seem oblivious. We have them in a good position, yet so do they have us.

“You think they mean it?” Gilda asked, interrupting the elder griffon's musings as they left the edge of the camp behind. “About letting us move down here?”

“I would think that they might even insist,” Garadan replied, as he turned to aim their walk in a circle around the camp. “Remember, they'll need us to be their arms in keeping the ponies under control. It would be much easier to have us close at hand to be able to react to any uprising.”

Gilda snorted at that. “As if these dweebs had the balls to rebel.”

“Do not underestimate the ponies,” Garadan warned. “Many of them are soft, yes. But when you start cutting away the fat, all that is left is muscle and bone, and by then the prey knows you're there.”

The younger griffon didn't reply to the old hunting adage, but neither did she dispute it. Instead, she held her peace for a few moments as she thought. “So, I guess you decided to go with these humans?” She asked.

“That is up to the elders back home to decide,” Garadan replied, accepting the change of topic. “But yes, I will strongly recommend it, and I don't doubt it will be accepted. These creatures are powerful, and allying ourselves with them will only improve our fortunes.”

“Yeah? And what if they turn on us?” Gilda asked, as she idly glanced off towards a copse of trees off to the left. “They don't seem the loyal type.”

Garadan grunted in agreement. “True, but that kind of being is always loyal to power. Griffons offer a kind of power they don't have: that of numbers. The humans have much strength, but they are very few compared to ponies, griffons, or any other race of our world.” He paused at that, and held his tongue for a moment to gather his thoughts. “If they are to stay, then their numbers would not rise much for a very long time. In this way, they will need us, and in needing us will also help us even as we help them.”

“Because we need them, too,” Gilda observed. “Or am I wrong?”

The elder griffon gave the younger a hard look through narrowed eyes. “I would not say need, so much as what they offer is far more valuable to us than anything the ponies could have given us,” he said, cautiously.

“If we ever bothered to ask them,” Gilda added, sardonically. “Funny how we're too proud to ask for help, but not too proud to turn into someone's pet.”

Garadan growled and extended his wings at that, and both griffons came to a halt and faced each other. “Say what you will about pride,” he grated out. “But make no mistake, Gilda Skyshroud, we are not going to be anyone's pet. The Flying Strikes clan will work for others, true, but it will be on our terms.”

Gilda's face was as still as stone, though when she poke again her voice was more respectful. “I just don't see it,” she began. “Sure, we're gonna be on top of the ponies and everyone else, but the humans will be right over us. If they wanted to, they'd just replace us if we get too uppity.”

“Then it will behoove us to keep ourselves indispensable to them,” Garadan replied, and then took a moment to tuck his wings in again. “They will rely on us, come to need us as surely as they need their machines. And when that happens, who do you think will be the true power in the world?” He asked, and then smirked. “It may not come in my lifetime, or even yours, but it pays to take the long view.” The smirk died then, and Garadan turned to look towards the west. “Dealing with Celestia has taught us that much.”

A silence fell over the pair as they both contemplated their thoughts. Finally, Gilda spoke up. “I guess that makes sense,” she allowed, and then sighed. “I just don't care for it. We shouldn't need to join up with these monkeys, and I don't like playing back fielder to anyone.” Her face hardened at that, and she glanced to the side. “Not after having to live like that for years.”

Garadan's visage softened at that, and he turned and then led the younger griffon in resuming their walk. “It could not have been easy,” he said, and then sighed. “Your mother and I did not want to send you away, Gilda, but you know of the troubles all the clans have had in the last generation,” he continued, and then shook his head. “Enrolling you in the academy was the best option to make sure you grew strong and well fed.”

“I know, dad,” Gilda said, her voice now soft. “I'm not mad. Well,” she added, with a blush that could be seen under her white facial feathers. “Not after getting back home and seeing how thin everyone was.”

“Yes,” Garadan said, and then fell silent for a moment. “You see now, why I am willing to align ourselves with these furless ones?” He asked, while keeping his gaze locked forward. “I swallowed my pride to see you safe, and I will do so again to keep our people, and especially our clan prosper.”

“Yeah,” Gilda allowed. “Still... Couldn't we have done that by asking the princesses for help?”

Garadan cast a sidelong glance at his daughter. “I thought you disliked the ponies?” He asked.

“I do,” Gilda replied, and then made a disgusted face. “But I don't like this O'Connell guy, either. He's slimy, like a used chariot salesman, or a barrister.”

“Indeed,” Garadan agreed, and then sighed. “But such is life, to be forced to deal with such persons. As for the princesses, we have asked them for help several times in the last year alone,” he explained, and then grunted. “Admittedly, we did not reveal the full extent of our troubles, since to do so would only weaken our bargaining position. Even so, Celestia has not been forthcoming with aid, and has pressed us for territorial concessions in exchange for increased food exports.”

“What kind of concessions?” Gilda asked. “They shoved us north, into their old lands before the snow and ice shifted downward. What could they possibly want from us?”

“Access, apparently,” Garadan replied. “They wanted to send research teams into the various clan territories and take out whatever artifacts were left after their ancestors migrated two thousand years ago.”

“That doesn't sound too bad,” the younger griffon observed. “Why haven't we agreed?”

Garadan sighed in frustration. “Because some clans are so stuck up and territorial that they cannot even conceive of allowing others in their lands,” he explained. “It figures most of our fellow representatives here are from those clans. Yet, it also provides a grand opportunity,” Garadan added, and then grinned.

Gilda glanced over to her father and studied his face for a moment. “What do ya mean, dad?” She asked.

“Simple,” Garadan easily replied. “We both know this O'Connell doesn't truly respect us; his behavior towards our kind has been polite, but clearly strained. He needs us, but he doesn't care about us.” The elder griffon glanced around at that, to make sure that no one was within earshot. “What sort of tasks do you think he will want to send griffons on, I wonder?”

“Suicide missions?” Gilda asked, an eyebrow questioningly raised.

Garadan grunted before he replied. “Perhaps not that bad, but definitely missions that will be costly that he will not want to risk his own soldiers on. Fortunately, our clan is a bit further removed than most,” he added, and then grinned again as he glanced to his daughter. “We will take our time arriving, and let the other clans bear the full weight of the fighting while we conserve our strength and numbers.”

“And let the idiot clans bash their heads against whatever O'Connell throws 'em at,” Gilda concluded, and then smiled when her father gave her a nod. “Nice one, dad.”

“I thought so,” Garadan agreed. “Now, unless you wish to speak of anything else, we should retire for the evening. You have a long journey back home in the morning, and I will need my rest to negotiate just right so that neither the other representatives nor O'Connell will see our ploy.”

A small figure watched the pair of griffons, safely hidden in a bush in the copse of trees that Garadan and Gilda had passed. She had heard everything, and her mind whirled as she considered the information. Part of her wanted to spring into action immediately, but she counseled herself to patience, lest her sudden movement or coincidental arrival back aboard the Red Skye so soon after the griffon pair had left alert others to her presence.

Almost an hour passed before the green pony crawled out from the bush, and then looked around to make sure no one had seen her. I think the commander will want to hear about this, the mare thought as she unfurled her wings and took to the air, her flight silent in the dark night.

Chapter 13 - The Calm Before...

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DropShip Red Skye

Desperadoes Main Camp

Occupied Zone, Manehattan, Equestria

September 20th AD 3070/1023 RC

“And how long were you going to wait to tell me this?” O'Connell asked, his voice harsh with suspicion as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I just wanted to make sure it was confirmed,” Zachary Carver, the commander of the Desperadoes fighter contingent, replied. “Seabreeze came in last night and told me all about it. I know how much you don't really trust the ponies, so I wanted to observe Garadan's behavior today and see how he acted.”

“To see if she was telling the truth,” O'Connell added, and then nodded. “Alright, fair enough,” he allowed, and then glanced over to where Kilroy was standing by the briefing room's closed door. “Ideas, Greg?”

Kilroy shrugged at that. “Nothing we can do about it right now,” he began, even as he leaned back against the bulkhead. “He's making plans long-term, and we still need to worry about the near-term before we can consider working against him. On the other hand, with us knowing what he's got planned, we can start politically maneuvering to counter him when the time comes.”

O'Connell nodded again. “What about his plans to let the other griffon tribes take the brunt of our offensive?” He asked, his tone curious, yet vaguely disgruntled.

“I say let him get away with it,” Kilroy said, and then grinned. “Then later, we can use that against him. I'm sure we can dig up or fabricate enough evidence that, along with the rather nice position his tribe will be in by then, will be more than enough for the others to turn on them.” The executive officer of the Desperadoes paused at that, and then spread his hands out. “An elegant solution to both problems, I think.”

“Good,” O'Connell said, and then grinned himself. “Wraps up both ends,” he added, and then frowned as a new thought entered his head. “But we're going to need something more than a pony's word for those griffons to listen to us,” he said, and then turned to give Carver his attention. “Your little friend is going to have to find a way to back up what she says,” he warned.

Carver frowned at that, but when he spoke his tone was controlled and respectful. “I'm not sure how, she was only there accidentally. However,” he added, when O'Connell's face darkened. “I'm sure we can work something out. Especially if they take more walks like that, then I'm sure I can get Seabreeze to use a tri-vid camera and get us some juicy footage.”

“See that she does,” O'Connell said. His visage did soften a bit then, and he uncrossed his arms. “I do appreciate you bringing this up, Zach. Just make sure you get me in the loop sooner next time.”

“Yes sir,” Caver said, and then waited a moment for the major to dismiss him. The small wave he got was more than enough, and the fighter pilot turned and made his way to the exit. Once outside the briefing room, he waited until the door was closed behind him before he inhaled a deep, relaxing breath, and then turned to make his way out of the ship.

* * * *

The walk to the makeshift airfield gave Carver time to calm his nerves from the usual fraying they took whenever he had to deal with Garth O'Connell. At least he was in a good mood this time, the pilot thought, as he negotiated the small sub-camp and headed for his private tent. Having a crapload of reinforcements coming will make any war leader happy, I guess.

A few moments later he reached the front of his tent, and without delay pulled open the flap and then stepped through. He paused once he was inside, however, when he saw a figure lying on his cot. “I hope no one saw you,” he said, once he recognized who was waiting for him.

“I do know how to get into places without anyone seeing me,” Seabreeze said, with a crooked smile, as she shifted to the side to let Carver sit down next to her. “Otherwise I wouldn't have overheard the griffons last night, and my visits would have already had your associates saying unkind things about you.”

Carver just grunted at that, as he loosened up his uniform shirt a bit for comfort. “Some of them say unkind things about me now,” he grumbled. “Just because I'm from the Magistracy of Canopus.”

Seabreeze finished settling down in a typical pony fashion, with her legs tucked underneath her, before she spoke. “Oh? How does that change anything?” She asked, and then tossed her mane a bit.

“Well, that would take some explaining,” Carver said, as he bent forward to drag his personal footlocker out from underneath the cot, and then opened it. “See, there's a big division between nations back home,” he added, as he rifled through his locker. Soon enough, he located the desired object, and then pulled it out. “On one hand, you have the big boys in the Inner Sphere; all the old, powerful nations closest to our homeworld.

“Then you have the Periphery,” Carver continued, as he shifted about on the cot to face himself towards the green pegasus and sat cross-legged. “Those are the nations on the frontier of known space, which tend to be poorer and less developed. A lot of people from the Inner Sphere tend to look down on us,” he added, and then brought up the hair brush he'd acquired and started to run it through the pony's mane.

“Why would they?” Seabreeze asked, while she closed her eyes and leaned her head closer to the human to give him an easier time. “Aren't people from the frontier respected for their willingness to open up unexplored lands?”

Carver scoffed at that. “Maybe in a perfect universe,” he grumbled, though his tone was lighter now as he relaxed and gave more of his attention towards grooming the green pony. “But a lot of them see us as uncivilized and uncouth. To be fair, there are a lot of worlds in the Periphery that barely have more than a few dirt farms and some corrupt leaders.” Zachary paused, and then snorted. “Hell, I've heard of planets where the locals lost everything and went back to the stone age, hunting with spears and using uncured animal hides for clothing.

“The Magistracy is a bit different, though,” Carver added, as he continued running the hair brush through Seabreeze's mane, occasionally having to pause in his movements to untangle a knot. “It's an older Periphery nation, and pretty advanced. It's also got some very open views on human rights, which is where a lot of the mockery comes from.”

“How so?” Seabreeze asked, and then hummed slightly as Carver switched to brushing her tail.

“Eh, it's not important,” Carver said, with a shrug. “Just they tend to think of us as a bunch of hedonists.”

“Frankly, I could see that at the moment,” Seabreeze added, as she shifted a bit on the cot. “Or maybe not. If a hedonist is someone who revels in pleasure, then what do you call someone who showers others with pleasure?”

Zachary pulled back at that, and then crossed his arms and shook his head at the pony, while Seabreeze opened her eyes to look at him. “Now, you're going to make me feel uncomfortable if you keep talking like that.”

Seabreeze grinned sheepishly at that. “Sorry, I didn't mean anything by it,” she said, and then fluttered her eyes at him. “Please finish?”

Carver sighed in frustration, but allowed a small smile across his face nonetheless. “I swear, I don't think even the tabiranths back home liked being brushed as much as you do,” he said, as he resumed his grooming.

“Those giant riding cats you talked about?” Seabreeze asked, as she closed her eyes again and then set her head down on the cot's edge.

“Yeah,” Carver replied. “They loved getting their coats brushed. Though to be fair they had fur, not hair, so it was more of a full body massage for them.”

“Lucky felines,” Seabreeze muttered, and then waited patiently as Carver continued to work on her tail. He was done far too soon for her tastes, but she opened her eyes and smiled at the human anyway as he finished. “I really appreciate you doing this,” she said. Then her smile faded, and she glanced to the side. “Most of the ponies around here, even the converts, don't really like to be around me. So it's hard to get properly groomed sometimes.”

“I suppose it must be hard to brush yourself without hands,” Carver allowed, as he sat back and started to pick out long blue hairs from the brush. “It makes me wonder why some of your people don't ask for help from us more often.”

Seabreeze sighed at that, and laid her head down on the cot again. “The major's actions haven't exactly been friendly,” she said, her tone making sound as if she had spoken the most obvious fact in the universe. “And a lot of the others are pretty nasty, too.”

“Yeah,” Carver agreed, his voice soft, and then let the conversation idle as both persons fell into silence. Eventually, though, he finished cleaning out the brush, and then started to climb off of the cot. “If I knew how bad they were going to be, I wouldn't have signed on back on Galatea,” the human said, as he knelt to return the brush to its storage. “I mean, sure, I knew they weren't the best unit since they were looking for people there rather than on Outreach.” He paused at that, and then gave the pony a look, which she returned with a curious expression. “Well, you don't know about that, but basically, Galatea is where the crap mercs go, the ones with the shady pasts and bad records. Hooligans, basically.”

Seabreeze frowned at that, a questioning look on her face. “Then why were you there, Zach?” She asked. “You don't seem the type.”

Carver sighed at that, and then stood up and started to pace a bit in the tent. “Frankly, I was desperate,” he grumbled out, in a low tone. “I needed a job, but the high-grade merc units didn't like the fact that the Magistracy gave me a bad-conduct discharge. Nevermind I only got it because I refused to sleep with my CO, the ugly bitch,” Carver sniped, his tone conveying utter contempt. “I didn't have a good enough record for the B-grade units, and third-tier units wouldn't hire me unless I brought my own hardware; a fighter, that is,” the human added, when he saw Seabreeze become confused for a moment.

“So why that Galatea place and the Desperadoes?” The green pony asked. “Or why be a mercenary at all, for that matter? Why not just find a nice place to settle down?”

Carver snorted at that, and then stopped in his pacing to give the pegasus a sad shake of his head. “I was trained to be a fighter pilot, 'Breeze,” he began, his voice tired. “It took years to hone those skills, and it's what I know. If I tried to start over again, it would be from the bottom, and I'm getting a bit old for that.”

“But isn't that better than going out and killing others?” Seabreeze pressed. “I could see serving your own country, but why go and seek out war and killing?”

Another moment of silence fell across the pair, and the pegasus pony saw Carver's face harden. “'Breeze,” he said, his voice low but filled with steel. “We haven't known each other that long, right?”

“Er, no,” Seabreeze answered, even as she shifted on the cot a bit. “It's been, what? A few days?”

“Yeah,” Carver agreed. “Not really long. But long enough for me to see you're not quite as crazy as you let on,” he added, even as he slowly shifted his arms to his sides. Seabreeze noted with growing alarm that his right hand drifted dangerously close to the sidearm holstered on his hip. “At first I was willing to pass that off as simply you trying to protect yourself, to make you look crazier than the other nutjobs in the unit.

“Now, though, I wonder,” the human continued. “You miss an awful lot of the targets we set up for you, and now you're starting to ask some... interesting questions.”

Seabreeze fought to keep from shuddering as she watched Carver's hand drift to rest on the handle of his pistol. Like most of the humans she'd met, he preferred using a “needler”; a terrible weapon that sprayed a cloud of plastic flechettes. She had seen two ponies, members of the Manehattan resistance, who had received wounds from such weapons, and only one was still alive. Though he'll never be able to use that leg again, the pegasus pony morbidly mused, as her thoughts sped up. “So, what if I am?” She finally asked, as she tore her gaze from the frightening weapon to make eye contact with Carver. “Is it a crime to be curious?”

“It might be, when O'Connell's running things,” Carver countered.

Seabreeze's ears twitched a bit, as she caught an undercurrent in the human's voice. “You don't sound like you want that,” she observed, picking her words carefully as she spoke. “Do you?”

Carver was silent for a moment before he replied. “Maybe not,” he reluctantly admitted. “But that's how things are going to be.”

“Maybe not,” Seabreeze echoed, and then took a moment to swallow past the nervous lump in her throat. “After all, the future is shaped by the choices we make. Choices all of us make,” she pointedly added.

The human's eyes narrowed at that, and used his fingers to flick open the strap keeping his pistol secure in its holster. Carver restrained himself from taking the weapon out, however, when he saw the pony flinch, though he kept his hand resting on its grip. “So, what choice did you make, 'Breeze?” He asked, in a quiet, menacing tone. “What made you come here, then, if that's the way you feel about things?”

Seabreeze was silent for a moment as she contemplated her answer. “I think you already know that,” she said, quietly. Her face shifted, and took on a sad expression. “What would you do, if your home was invaded?”

“Stand up and fight,” Carver replied, without any hesitation. “Strap into a fighter, and ride out to engage them in orbit. Or take up a rifle and fight them on the ground. Either way, I wouldn't skulk about.”

“Even if it meant your certain death?” Seabreeze asked, her wings twitching unconsciously. “A death that would accomplish nothing but be another corpse for the invaders to step on before they got what they wanted, anyway?”

Carver didn't reply to that. Not verbally, anyway, but Seabreeze felt a small wave of relief when she saw his weapon hand relax. “Maybe not,” the human begrudgingly admitted, after taking several moments to think. “So, you're a spy, if not an outright saboteur. Care to give me a reason why I shouldn't shoot you dead right now? Or at the very least march you straight to the DropShop and have you put in the brig?”

Seabreeze slowly stood up on the cot, and then proceeded to climb off of it with patient, careful movements to avoid startling the armed human, who for his part backed up to keep the pony out of leg's reach. “The same reason we started talking about more than work the day after we met,” the mare said, her voice calm and smooth. “The same reason you took to brushing my mane and tail, your excuses about it being relaxing to the contrary.” Seabreeze smirked at that, though it was only for a second. “Because you're my friend, Zack.”

“A friend to a liar,” Carver retorted. “You think I'm just going to believe you don't have any interest in my position at all?”

The pegasus winced at this. “You're right,” she admitted, even as she lowered her head to look at the ground. “I did have reasons to pick you out above the others. You were the commander of the air group, Kilroy said, and I wanted to keep an eye on you, at least.” She paused then, and looked back up at the human. “But I could have done that just by helping out as I was told to do. Like Trixie has done with the technicians and advising the major and captain Kilroy. I didn't have to approach you like I did, and I certainly don't have to be here, now, having this conversation.”

A brief silence passed between the two. “So,” Carver began, his voice low. “Why are you here, now?”

“Because I know you're different,” Seabreeze replied. “Unlike most of the Desperadoes, you're not cruel or indifferent. I've seen you wince when some guard kicks one of the ponies working on preparing the airfield, and I saw the sympathy in your eyes the first time I asked you to help groom my hair.” The mare paused at that, and then took another, tentative step forward. When the human didn't step back, Seabreeze took that as a good sign and continued. “I'm here because I know you're a good person, and you don't like what's happened here any more than I do.

“And finally,” she added, as she took another step forward. “I'm here because you really are my friend, and I care about you.” A pause, and then another step. “I know you're not happy, and we both know the reason. But you don't want to think about doing anything to change that, because you're worried about being labeled a traitor to your own kind.

“But you're not, and you won't be if you do what you know is right,” Seabreeze added, as she took another step to finally end up just a foot away from the human. “I'm here because sometimes we all need a reminder that we can change things, and who better to do that than a friend?”

Carver watched the pony move in silence, but made no attempt to change his position. Indeed, he seemed as still as a statue, and remained motionless for several long minutes as he contemplated her words. For her part, Seabreeze remained still as well, and just looked up at the pilot with wide eyes.

Finally, though, Carver sighed, and then slowly closed the clasp on his holster. “You fight dirty, using those eyes of yours,” he said, with a slight, strained smirk.

Seabreeze grinned up at him. “What's that phrase you said describes Inner Sphere warfare? “Combat pragmatists”, I think?” She asked, in an innocent tone that did not fool Carver for a moment. “Using everything available to win?”

The human could only shake his head at that. But soon enough the smirk left his face, and he sighed as he slowly sat down on the ground. “So,” he began. “What now?”

“Now?” Seabreeze echoed, and then slowly walked over to sit down next to the human on her haunches. “Right now... I just want to be with my friend,” she said, and then leaned against Carver's side.

Zachery couldn't help but smile again, and he carefully reached an arm around the pegasus and held her in a quiet hug as they sat on the floor of the tent.

Camp Osceola

Sweet Apple Acres, Ponyville, Equestria

September 24th

Melissa McKenna moved in a slow but deliberate walk as she inspected the Ferret helicopter for her pre-flight check. Although she didn't doubt the technicians who worked for the mercenary company did a fine job in preparing and servicing all of the combat vehicles, the pilot nevertheless followed the long-established tradition. Besides, no matter how far we've come over the centuries, some ideas are just plain common sense, Melissa thought, as she patted a gloved hand over the 5-ton helicopter's tail boom, careful to pay attention for any odd noise or shift. Better to be safe than sorry, after all. And one never knows when a tech could be on the take.

She knew it to be unlikely, given the Desperadoes and the Dark Horse had no reason to even cross paths in the past, save for their common garrison duty. Even that had only been a minor connection; the Desperadoes had been assigned to protect a rare titanium processing facility on Bluford, a continent away from the “Brigade”'s position as a training OpFor to the planetary militia and protector of a weapons factory. So it's highly unlikely that O'Connell would have even thought of sabotaging us before we ended up here, Melissa mused, as she finally came around to the front of the Ferret and finally finished her inspection. But again, it never hurts to be extra careful when you plan to go flying.

The human's viewpoint was not ubiquitous, however. “You guys take too long to do everything,” Rainbow Dash complained, as she followed along in Melissa's wake. “I thought you said the guys on the ship take care of this thing?” She asked, and though her tone was irritated and irritating, one could hear a genuine note of curiosity underneath.

Melissa sighed. “I know I've explained this to you before,” she said, tiredly, as she turned to face the cyan pony with arms crossed over her chest. “It's a tradition that goes back over a thousand years to the dawn of powered flight. And it's practical as well, since sometimes even the best tech might miss something,” she added, and then turned to walk towards the tent where others were waiting. Dash followed, and the human continued to speak. “Remember, it's a machine, it doesn't have the feedback that muscles and nerves gives to a natural flier like yourself. So if a problem crops up and you don't find it during the pre-flight check, it could cause a crash.”

“Hmm,” Dash hummed, as the two came upon the tent. “Okay, I guess that makes sense,” she allowed, as Melissa pulled back the flap. “But it's still boring.”

A masculine voice answered the pony from inside the tent. “Trust me, miss Dash, when I say that in the mercenary business, boring is always better than exciting,” James McKenna said, from where he stood next to a table. With him were Twilight Sparkle, captain Starbuck, Johannes Schneider, master tech McCoy, and the irrepressible Ivan.

“Yeah, exciting usually means your life is a hair's breadth from being snuffed out,” Schneider chimed in, as he stood up from where he had been bent over the table and the paper maps upon it. “We get that enough in combat. So there's no need to tempt fate.”

Dash rolled her eyes at that. “Yeah yeah, I get it,” she added, in a huff. “So are we going already?”

“Just about,” James replied, and then tugged at the dress shirt he wore. “We were just going over the trails through Whitetail Woods again.”

“Do you really think you can sneak close to Manehattan?” Twilight Sparkle asked, as she lit up her horn and then used her telekinesis to gather up the maps she had copied from ones in the Ponyville library.

“That depends on how well O'Connell uses those griffon reinforcements he's been getting,” Schneider answered. He then looked over to Starbuck. “That is, if the intelligence we got was accurate.”

“You keep questioning that,” Starbuck said, tiredly. “I don't know any more than you, just that it came from our units in Manehattan.”

“Don't worry about Hermes,” James interjected, with a smile. “He's a trained spook: if they're not paranoid about something, then they're paranoid about everything.”

Schneider snorted at that, even as the other humans shared a brief chuckle. “You know the old joke,” he countered. “Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get me.”

“That is a disturbing thought,” Twilight observed, as she rolled the maps and stashed them into her saddlebags. “How do you sleep at night with an attitude like that?”

“With a gun under the pillow and a knife in my boot,” Schneider quickly replied.

Though he smiled as he spoke, a look into his eyes showed that he wasn't quite exaggerating, and Twilight had to suppress a shudder. They're so nice most of the time, I forget how terrible they can be, the purple unicorn thought, as she watched Melissa give a brief statement attesting to the readiness of the helicopter they were to ride. No, stop that, Twilight. These people are different from O'Connell and his soldiers.

You hope, said the voice of doubt inside her head. They're nice now, but what happens if things go badly? Will they retreat into orbit and just wait everything out, like they said O'Connell could have done, and leave us all at the mercy of the enemy? Or just switch sides, like you've read of others in their history doing?

A round of laughter interrupted Twilight's thoughts, and the purple pony realized that she had been left behind in the conversation. There's no choice, anyway, she thought, as she forced a fake smile onto her muzzle. We have to trust them, because without them we have little chance of winning this war with a minimum of bloodshed. If at all. At that, she forced such thoughts down and refocused on the conversation.

“...Never bothered with it,” James was saying. “We've always been a small unit, so uniforms were never really needed when everyone knows everyone else,” he explained.

“Still, it seems rather unseemly for you to be meeting the princess in just civilian clothes,” captain Starbuck said, and then shifted a bit to get his helmet to sit better upon his head. “It won't create the best impression for her majesty to see you in anything less than military attire.”

“A problem I've been trying to get corrected for years,” a new voice said, and everyone in the tent turned to see Rebecca McKenna move into the tent. “James has the typical male resistance to buying any form of clothing that isn't a canvas sack secured with a length of rope.”

James sighed heavily at that, which only prompted grins from the other humans in the tent, save McCoy who just continued to frown and look impatient. “My darling wife, you know that uniforms are an expense we don't need,” the commander said.

“Define “need”,” Rebecca countered. “Starbuck has it right, Jim. We'd make a better impression on a any employer, prospective or current, with some proper clothing.”

Her husband slowly shook his head. “Alright, fine,” he said, in a huff as he cross his arms over his chest. “Just let me know where we can get some fancy uniforms in a world populated by quadrupeds and we'll buy some,” James added, and then smirked a bit.

The smirk died, however, when Twilight Sparkle cleared her throat. “Actually, I'm sure Rarity could make some for you,” she said, even as a small grin spread along her muzzle. “She's actually quite skillful, so I think she could create clothes even for bipeds.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Rebecca interjected, just as James had opened his mouth to protest. The female of the pair grinned widely as she saw the flummoxed look upon her mate's face. “We'll have to speak to miss Rarity sometime.”

James glared at his wife for a moment, and then sighed again. “Sometimes I wonder who's really in charge of this unit,” he grumbled.

“Why, you are, dear,” Rebecca replied, in an innocent tone, as she walked over and gave the male a kiss. “But we're married, so that means I'm in charge of you.”

A round of chuckles sounded through the tent, and James rolled his eyes. “Are we ready to go?” He gruffly asked, as he turned to give the others in the tent a hard look.

The mood dropped a bit, as the humans in the party knew their commander well enough that they could recognize when his patience was wearing thin, while the ponies simply picked up on the subtle body language. Nevertheless, Melissa sounded chipper as she spoke up. “Ready as we'll ever be, sir,” she said, reverting into a more respectful form of address.

“Good to go,” Schneider added, from off to the side, while Ivan just nodded.

“Let's get th' bloody thing on already,” McCoy grated.

“Alright, alright,” James said, and then sighed again, his countenance returning to normal before he turned to face his wife. “We'll be off, then,” he said, and then leaned in to share a second, quick peck with Rebecca. “Mind the store while we're gone.”

“Always,” Rebecca replied, and then turned and led the assembly to the flap of the tent, which she held open for the others. At least she did until James took over and moved her aside with a gentle touch.

Twilight caught the subtle interplay between the two humans, and felt a bout of fascination wash over her. It's amazing just how much humans can communicate with such simple gestures, she thought as she turned to follow the others as they headed to the Ferret. Sure, we ponies have many such gestures as well, but the depths of them seem so shallow compared to what look like whole conversations that these people carry on. Their hands alone seem able to convey the subtlest meanings.

She was distracting herself, and she knew it. Although she had flown before in hot air balloons, airships, and pegasi chariots, there was something vaguely disturbing to her about riding in the helicopter. I mean, sure, airships and balloons don't use magic, but they hang from lighter-than-air gas envelopes that suspend them at all times. Pegasi-pulled chariots are held up by the pulling ponies' powers. But this thing? It could fail and then we just plummet like a rock. The mere thought chilled her blood, but the unicorn remained resolute as the group reached the side of the aircraft. Come on, even airships can have accidents with ruptured envelopes, and pegasi are only mortal and can make mistakes. All flight has risks, this kind just has ones you aren't used to, is all.

Twilight felt some comfort as she identified the source of unease, and then promptly focused her attention on watching how the humans climbed aboard the flying machine. Like with many of their activities, they readily and almost constantly used their hands, gripping the sides of the large, open bay door that led into the cramped quarters within. For a moment the unicorn wondered how the ponies in the group were going to get up, until she remembered that she was the only one boarding the helicopter who lacked both hands and wings. Oh, that's just peachy, the purple pony sarcastically mused.

“Need a hand?” A voice asked, startling Twilight out of her rumination. She looked up and took on a sheepish grin when she saw that James had paused after climbing in himself. His hand was extended towards the unicorn, and Twilight felt her grin widen a bit as the gesture warmed her heart.

“Thank you, commander,” the purple pony replied, as she reached up with a hoof and laid it in the human's hand. After he had her in a good grip, she reared back on her hind legs and brought up the other foreleg to wrap its hoof around the single hand-hold that was welded to the 'copter's frame, and then pulled herself up and into the Ferret's infantry compartment. Once there, James released her hoof as she gained her bearings, though the unicorn could still tell that the touch lingered a moment longer than necessary.

I'm not sure if I'll ever get used to how they see us, Twilight mused, as she headed over to one of the bucket seats and then proceeded to sit in it human-style. Although it would be uncomfortable, the ride was only supposed to last ten to fifteen minutes, so she and the other ponies would endure it, as sitting upright on their haunches was the only way they would be able to wear the safety restraints properly.

Twilight's thoughts were briefly interrupted as Melissa McKenna stepped into the Ferret, and then looked around to make sure that everyone was either settled in or getting there. The humans were already in, but both Dash and Starbuck were still struggling with the finer aspects of the seatbelts, and so the pilot moved over to kneel in front of the mare pegasus. “Here, lemme give you a hand,” the human said, as she reached out to work the buckles.

“I'm not a foal, you know,” Rainbow Dash complaind. Though the grumpy words were the limit of her protests, as she simply sat and let the human work.

“I know, but it's better to be safe than sorry,” Melissa said, as she manipulated the buckles. “Besides, as the pilot it's my responsibility to make sure all of my passengers arrive safely. And I take that responsibility very seriously, Rainbow,” the young woman added.

All the more so because of us, Twilight thought, as she used her telekinetic magic to connect and secure her own restraints. It's been... interesting to observe how the humans act towards us, the purple pony pondered, as she watched Melissa finish with Dash and then move to assist Starbuck. I know James and Hermes have both explained that we appear, well, adorable to them, she thought, a light blush briefly crossing her features. But it still surprises me to see the depths of their reactions at times. Especially after how O'Connell was so callous and cruel.

Twilight paused in her ruminations as Melissa moved over from Starbuck and then knelt to check on the purple unicorn's setup. “Looks like you've got this down pat,” the human pilot observed, a polite smile on her face.

“I do try to pay attention, sometimes,” Twilight replied, with a smile of her own.

Melissa chuckled at that. “Glad someone does,” she said, and then stood up and reached for a small storage cabinet built into the wall. “Alright, everyone get your ear protection on,” she said, as she opened the cabinet and then started to take out headsets intended to ward against the loud noise of the Ferret's engines. Melissa then handed them out to the passengers, her reach more than enough to stretch across the cramped compartment. The humans took the proffered sets and affixed them in place easily, as did Twilight Sparkle with her magic, and once again Melissa worked with the two pegasi in the vehicle and made sure to set the headsets properly over their ears.

“Alright, we're good to go,” the human pilot said, once she had finished in her work. Her voice was severely muffled by the ear protection Twilight wore, but Melissa had raised her volume enough to be slightly heard. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.” With that, she turned and moved through the hatch that led into the cockpit.

Twilight watched Melissa disappear, and then turned her head to look around the compartment. The four humans were all arranged in the seats that lined the back wall, while she and the other two ponies sat in the three that had their backs to the cockpit, which let the unicorn mare observe the other passengers easily enough. All of the humans, she noted, were calm, collected, and alert. Save McCoy, however, who had leaned back and closed his eyes in an apparent attempt to grab some sleep.

Opposite of this incredulous display sat Rainbow Dash and Starbuck, who both looked around nervously. It's strange how pegasi can't seem to stand having to rely on someone else to fly them, Twilight Sparkle mused, as she remembered the discussions between the two ponies and the McKennas the day before, concerning this flight. They just don't like leaving their fate in someone else's hooves. Or hands, in this case, the purple unicorn amended. So much so that Melissa had to agree to leave the doors on the Ferret open as we fly so they can look out and see that we're not crashing.

A high-pitched whine filled the compartment then, and Twilight put her thoughts aside as she glanced out of the aforementioned open doors and watched as the shadows of the helicopter's rotary wings revealed their increasing movement. Beyond that, the unicorn saw Rebecca McKenna and other humans from the mercenary unit standing at a safe distance, along with Applejack and Big Macintosh, who had both found time in their early morning schedule to see off their friends. All had said their goodbyes earlier, and now as a group they waved as the Ferret lurched into the sky and then pivoted to fly towards the north, towards Canterlot.

Royal Palace

Canterlot, Equestria

September 24th

Princess Luna watched her sister's bandages changed, as she always did whenever the nurses conducted the grim but necessary procedure. She noted that as time passed, the damage on Celestia's body seemed less and less dire, and the midnight blue alicorn had found some small measure of comfort in watching the twice daily task. You will get better, 'Tia, Luna promised, both to her sister as well as herself, as the final layers of cotton were placed upon the injured princess.

“Your majesty?” A voice asked quietly, from a short distance away. Luna felt mildly startled, but didn't show it as she turned her head to regard the captain of the Guards' unicorn section. “I'm sorry to disturb you, but it's almost time to greet the party coming from Ponyville.”

Luna nodded at that, and then stood up on all fours and faced the white unicorn. “Thank you, Shining Armor,” the night princess said, and then started walking down the hall. “Please attend me,” she added.

“Of course, your majesty,” the blue-maned pony replied, even as he trotted to catch up and take his position on Luna's left, though he trailed slightly behind the dark mare's position. The two then fell into silence as they made their way towards the pegasus landing fields, where the so-called “helicopter” was supposed to land.

The quiet suited Luna, who felt the need to organize her thoughts about the situation. The day when the second group of aliens arrived had been a chaotic one even in Canterlot, as multiple, often conflicting messages poured in. At first it had seemed like O'Connell had opened up a second front, then the reconnaissance unit had departed Manehattan and prompted the military staffers to suggest sending out the new assault wing. Then suddenly, the two alien forces were fighting each other, with a resounding defeat dealt to the first group of invaders. Then had come in reports from Twilight Sparkle and captain Starbuck, both of whom had reserved, yet unambiguous praise for the new group of humans.

Luna shook her head as she mulled over these memories. The reports since then became clearer, both in facts and opinion, while the tones of both Sparkle and Starbuck hath warmed. Whomever these “Dark Horsemen” are, they hath at least earned some measure of trust from ponies that both mine sister and I ourselves trust, the night princess reminded herself. Yet, she could not help but feel a vein of concern running through her thoughts. We know so little of these people, save what they tell us. Twilight hath made it clear that she has access to their libraries, and I doubt that one such as she wouldst be unable to note deception. Nevertheless, such beings, with their talk of massive wars and brutal, deceptive tactics, are dangerous to trust without some way to verify their intentions. This could yet be a trick.

Such were the alicorn's ruminations as she led the way through the corridors. They were interrupted, however, when the unicorn at her side cleared his throat, which prompted Luna to look over. “Dost thou have something on thy mind, Armor?” She asked, curiously.

“I am just concerned, your majesty,” Shining Armor replied. “You're going to meet these aliens personally when they land, instead of receiving them in the throne room. If they decide to attack...” His voice trailed off at that.

Luna gave a nod to Shining Armor, and then turned her head to face forward again. “I appreciate thy concern, captain,” she said, evenly. “But it took three dozen of those walkers to defeat mine sister, and by all accounts this flying machine arriving today is far weaker and more fragile than those,” the alicorn added, her voice only divulging the slightest hitch when referring to Celestia. “Both Starbuck and our agent within the invaders hath confirmed this independently.”

“Yes, I understand,” Armor replied, and then sighed. “But, if I may be so bold, your highness, your sister had extensive defensive spells and enchantments built into her armor. You are only wearing your standard regalia.”

Something in his voice niggled at Luna, and the alicorn stopped her movement so she could turn and fully face the unicorn. “Captain, I think thou art worrying too much,” she said, softly. “I am alicorn, and though we are neither impervious nor omnipotent, I can defend myself well enough.” She paused then, and managed to add a small smile. “Besides, you and the Guard will be there, as well. I shan't fear while the best ponies in the principality are with me.”

Shining Armor blushed a bit under the praise, but his countenance remained troubled. “Thank you, your majesty,” he said, and then paused to bite his lip. The silence stretched for a heartbeat before he lowered his head slightly and then looked off to the side. “But it wasn't enough to prevent Celestia's injuries,” he added, quietly and with an undercurrent of shame. Then abruptly he turned his head back and looked straight into Luna's eyes. “I don't want to risk anything like that happening to you as well, princess. Not now, not ever.”

Luna blinked at the forceful concern in the unicorn's voice, and a small warmth made itself felt in her chest as she recognized the sincerity in Shining Armor's statement. “I- I thank thee, captain,” she said, faintly. “I had no idea thou cared so much.”

The stallion's face looked pained at that, and he shook his head. “Of course I do, majesty,” he said, as he returned his gaze to match Luna's. “We all do; the Guard, the staff, and all of your subjects,” he added, earnestly. “You're our princess, just as much as your sister is.”

The warmth in her chest spread, and Luna had to turn her head away as she felt her eyes starting to tear up. “I... I thank thee again,” she said, quietly. “I didst not- I dared not think that, after everything...” Her voice trailed off as the pain of certain memories made itself felt.

“That wasn't you,” Shining Armor said, his forceful tone causing Luna to turn her head back around to face him. “Everypony knows this. We all make mistakes, your highness, and sometimes once we start down the wrong road it can be hard to find our way back again. It's those times we need a helping hoof to get us back on the right track,” he added, as a distant look crossed his face. It passed quickly, however, and the white unicorn gave the princess a wan smile. “That's what friends are for, after all.”

“Indeed,” Luna agreed, with a smile of her own. “Thou certainly lives up to thy name, Shining Armor,” she added, and then turned to resume their walk, albeit at a bit of a slower pace now. “As well as thy family's reputation. Many say Equestria could not survive without either Celestia or myself, but I daresay all hope wouldst be lost without thee and thy kin.”

Shining Armor blushed deeply from his respectful trailing position. “We just do what's right, your majesty,” he responded. “No matter what.”

Luna nodded to him at that. “An apt description of a hero if I hath ever heard one,” she said, as she shot another smile back at the stallion. Her expression darkened soon enough, however, as the pair took a turn and saw the doorway leading to the landing field just ahead. “Sadly, we have need for many in these dark days.”

Armor had nothing to say to that, so he remained silent as the pair reached the double doors to the outside. There the stallion lit up his horn and pulled them open for the princess, who gave him a look of gratitude before she led the way outside.

* * * *

James McKenna couldn't help but grin a bit as he observed the ponies sitting across from him. Poor Dash, she looks about ready to explode, he thought, noting the irritated expression on the pegasus' face. I know the feeling; can't stand it when anyone else is driving a ground car I'm riding in. Oh well, it shouldn't be too much longer.

Almost as if choreographed to his thoughts, the Ferret started to tilt back from its headlong rush, for which James was grateful. I know the doors being open helped Starbuck and Dash, but the bloody wind was ridiculous, the commander mentally griped. Such thoughts left his mind, however, as his daughter turned the Ferret to the left, which revealed Canterlot through one of the aforementioned doors. Every passenger turned his or her head to look upon their destination, and for the first time in a very long time, James felt his jaded cynicism stopped cold.

The city clung to the side of the mountain and sat on a wide, natural shelf, though this had been expanded upon with a massive platform of stone that defied gravity as it leaned out hundreds of meters into the open air without any apparent support. Upon this wide expanse a vast array of graceful, artfully decorated buildings had been constructed, creating a dense warren that nevertheless remained orderly and clean, or so it seemed to James. The streets, he noticed, held a wild riot of colors that his mind was slow to register, but soon enough he recognized the dots of thousands of ponies milling about in their daily business. Their tiny appearance gave the human a sense of scale for the city, and he found himself boggling at the sheer size. Sure, I've seen bigger, he thought. Hell, this place is smaller than the city I grew up in. But the fact they did this with nothing but their low tech, magic, and determination, and on the side of a mountain no less... He couldn't help but shake his head a bit as he marveled at the sight. It's just amazing.

The Ferret continued to orbit the city as Melissa waited for the prearranged escort to their landing zone, and soon enough a grand compound came into view. It was built entirely upon the artificial platform that widened Canterlot's footprint, and it was surrounded by a secondary set of walls that merged into the outer, city walls that protected the pony capitol. Although James cast a practiced eye over the walls as a matter of instinct, he couldn't help but concentrate his full attention upon what was unmistakably the Royal Palace. It's every bit as beautiful as anything the Davions built on New Avalon, that's for sure, the mercenary thought, as he compared the pony Palace to the closest example that existed in the Inner Sphere. A bit schizophrenic in some of the architecture styles, but if it's really been here for two thousand years as Twilight said, then that's to be expected.

He had to admit, he felt a bit intimidated by the age of the pony city. Nothing in the Inner Sphere is older than eight hundred years or so, save the stuff on Terra. And even then, a lot of those cities came after the birth of Christ. Even the oldest city in North America is only fifteen hundred years old; younger than this by half a millennium.

Two pegasus guards flew up from the palace grounds as he watched, and James felt the Ferret slow to a stop and hover. The two ponies approached the helicopter warily, before they came to hover themselves a few dozen feet beyond the downwash from the rotor.

Starbuck noticed this, and he leaned forward and waved to the guards with a foreleg. A brief exchange of nonverbal signals followed, and soon enough the guards nodded and then turned to glide back down towards the palace. For his part Starbuck looked to James, and then nodded as well.

The human nodded back, and then reached up to trigger the small intercom unit built into his headset. “Okay Melissa, follow those two in,” he said, into the microphone affixed the the set.

“Understood, commander,” his daughter replied, in full professional mode. The Ferret tilted and turned under her guidance, and soon began its descent.

* * * *

The growling whine had been audible for some time now, announcing the incoming machine before it could even be seen. Princess Luna folded her ears back in annoyance at the irritating sound. How could anypony stand that noise long enough to fly in such a conveyance? She wondered. A thought crossed her mind at that, and the dark-colored alicorn calmly glanced around the large, rectangular field to make sure none of the other ponies were overly affected by the noise. The troubles I had on Nightmare Night hath only reminded me of the lower tolerance our subjects hath for such loudness, Luna remembered. She was pleased to note, however, that the guardsponies arrayed around the field and by her side were not showing any sort of discomfort. Even their legendary stoic expressions are not so unreadable to mine sister and I, the night princess mused, with a slight grin that slipped over her muzzle. I am glad to see none hath taken pain from this infernal noise.

Her train of thought was stopped just then, as the flying machine entered her field of vision after emerging from behind one of the large mansions the Canterlot nobility built close as they could to the Palace. Luna took a moment to cast a critical eye over the machine, and she felt a grudging respect at what she saw. It is as described in Twilight's letters and Starbuck's dispatches: a machine that relies naught on magic but the very properties of matter itself, she thought, as two pegasus guards leaped into the air and then flew up to meet the craft.

Luna continued to closely observe the helicopter as it came to a hover, just before the guards did as well. The latter made a series of gestures towards the open door on the side of the craft, but the angle kept those on the ground from seeing any occupants. Nevertheless, Luna knew that the guards would have recognized captain Starbuck, and so the princess relaxed when they turned and started to glide back in a leisurely manner. Everything must be as arranged, then, Luna thought. Good. Very good. So why am I so nervous?

It wasn't a feeling she liked having, but sadly had come to experience often since her cleansing. Am I... nervous about meeting these creatures? She wondered, even as the helicopter turned and followed behind the escorting pegasi. I suppose it is to be expected. Some of their kind did... defeat Celestia, after all. She felt a surge of anger at that, but Luna quickly suppressed it. I must not judge others by the behavior of a third party. Each must be represented by his or her own actions and decisions, and by none other. And so far, the reports from Ponyville have painted this group of humans in a better light, and I must keep that in mind.

The night princess emerged from her thoughts at that, as the descending flying machine drew close. Its noise increased dramatically as it approached, and Luna that saw it put out a powerful downdraft from the way several guards on the periphery of the landing field had to suddenly reach up and clutch their helmets when the machine moved over them. She felt the wind of this draft personally only seconds later as the so-called “Ferret” lowered itself to the ground a few meters in front of the waiting princess, and then settled on strange protrusions that emerged from its underside just before it landed.

The alicorn princess felt some admiration at the deftness with which the craft had alighted. Learning how to fly with your own wings is hard enough, Luna thought, as the noise of the helicopter's engine and rotors started to die down. But flying via machine? Even airship and balloon pilots need extensive training to do that, and this machine looks more complicated by far.

Again, Luna had to put her thoughts aside as events moved forward. The machine had landed with its side facing towards the palace, which let the waiting ponies easily look into the open doors. Inside the belly of the machine Luna clearly made out the presence of not only three ponies, but also several large figures that could only be the humans she had been told of, but hadn't seen until now.

Ugly things, the princess thought, and then promptly chastised herself for such a shallow idea. Donkeys aren't exactly mine idea of beauty, either, but I still consider them my loyal and cared for subjects, Luna reminded herself, as she watched the passengers start to disentangle themselves from their seating. The alicorn briefly puzzled over this, as well as the odd instruments all of them wore over their ears. Then suddenly, it hit her: They art safety devices, to keep one from being thrown or tossed about. And I wouldst wager the orange headsets are to preserve one's hearing.

Her opinion of the humans went up a small notch upon realizing this, and then again when she saw the human passengers turn to help their pony compatriots out of the complicated restraints with a care that Luna had seldom seen, even amongst her subjects. Perhaps these ones are different, Luna allowed, as the group of passengers, now free and joined by the machine's pilot, descended to the ground, and then started to approach.

Seldom had a second passed, however, when a certain purple unicorn froze upon alighting her gaze on one of the ponies waiting for them, and then disappeared in a purple flash. A matching flash appeared next to Luna the instant the first disappeared, and Twilight Sparkle bounded forward from that spot and slammed into the white unicorn standing next to the princess. “Shining Armor!” The purple pony joyfully yelped, as she wrapped her brother in a hug.

“Twily,” Armor said, as he brought up his left foreleg and partially returned the hug. “It's great to see you again,” he added, his tone warm. Yet he glanced nervously over to the princess as he continued. “But now's not a good time for this.”

Luna smiled at the guard captain. “Methinks, captain, that a breech of decorum may be overlooked in this case,” she said, affecting a falsely imperious tone. Then she leaned over and brought her muzzle close to his ear. “That's what friends are for, after all,” she whispered, low enough so that no one but Shining Armor heard.

The white unicorn blushed at that, but nevertheless nodded his thanks and grinned at the princess before he turned his attention to his little sister. For her part, Luna turned and studiously ignored the pair and instead focused her attention on the other visitors as they approached. She felt mild surprise wash over her, though, as she saw that the humans were smiling at the scene playing out to the alicorn's left. Well, except for the older one, Luna amended her thoughts, as she noticed the obviously aged human still frowning as if the world itself was giving offense. Yet as she looked over his face, she saw that his eyes had softened, and was struck with an odd feeling of kinship. When you have seen so much, you reveal little, the princess thought. Mayhaps this be their leader?

The group finished their approach and then stopped a short, respectful distance away, though captain Starbuck took a few steps forward to interpose himself between his monarch and the aliens. “Your majesty,” the steel blue pegasus said, as he bowed before the alicorn.

“Captain Starbuck,” Luna replied, and then gestured with a hoof for the pegasus to rise. “I see thy wing hath healed well,” she observed, with barely concealed surprise.

“Aye, princess, thanks to some help from our new friends,” Starbuck responded, as he rose back to his usual stance. “They are most generous, and have even helped to heal miss Dash's wounds, as well.”

“Indeed?” Luna asked, her interest piqued as she saw the humans look uncomfortable at the praise. She turned her attention from them, though, and instead singled out the lone pegasus still standing with the aliens. “Rainbow Dash, please approach and let me see thy wounds.”

The cyan pegasus started a bit at being addressed, but she recovered quickly and trotted over to give a brief bow before the princess. “Well, they're not wounds so much anymore,” she said, with a sheepish grin. That grin, however, soon grew into an eager smile. “I've got some wicked scars, though. Wanna see?” She asked, and then without waiting for an answer, turned around, reared on her hind legs, and spread her wings out so that Luna could get a clear look at her back. “Are they cool, or what, your majesty?” The pegasus asked, with a glance over her shoulder.

Luna was taken aback for a moment, surprised at Dash's swift recovery and sudden display. She quickly recovered, however, and then grinned at the pegasus. “Thou hast scars worthy of a song,” the alicorn said, as Rainbow dropped back to all fours and then turned around to properly face her monarch again. “But I am confused; did not the doctors say thy healing would take weeks more?” Luna asked, curiously.

“Oh, yeah, but these guys know their stuff,” Rainbow Dash replied, and then waved a wing back at the patiently waiting humans. “Fixed me right up.”

“Well, to be fair,” the soft voice of Twilight Sparkle interjected, and every pony in the immediate area turned to look at the purple unicorn. “Even Doctor Farrell said he was surprised at how fast Rainbow and captain Starbuck healed. He, Hermes and I have theorized that there may be a synergetic effect occurring between human medicines and the natural healing capacity of ponies, which Doctor Ferrell has noted is already faster than humans achieve.”

Everyone in the area fell silent and looked oddly at Twilight for a moment, until Shining Armor spoke up. “You're doing it again, Twily,” he said, in a teasing tone as he rubbed a hoof in his sister's mane.

“Arrrrmoorrr,” Twilight whined, as she pushed the offending limb away with one of her own forelegs. “Stop it.”

“Ahem,” came the masculine voice of Starbuck, who immediately garnered the other ponies' attention. “Your majesty, as happy as I am to see family enjoying one another, might I begin introductions?” He asked, while keeping all but the slightest hints of a grin off of his face.

“Methinks that wouldst be appropriate,” Luna said, and once again chose to ignore the two siblings at her side. “Please do so.”

Starbuck nodded, and then turned his body perpendicular to Luna so that he could look at both parties. “In the center is James McKenna, the commander of the mercenary company that calls itself the Dark Horse Brigade,” he said, while gesturing with a foreleg.

“Your majesty,” the human said, and then bowed, tucking one arm in front of his bent waist while holding the other behind his back. “May I present the rest of my party?” He asked, upon straightening back up.

“Please do, commander McKenna,” Luna said, already feeling some relief at the human's respectful, yet comfortable tone.

James nodded at this, and then turned to his left and gestured with a hand. “At my side is Johannes Schneider, my third in command and strategist,” he began, and then went on after Hermes conducted his own bow. “To his left is our unit's master technician and chief armorer, Andrew McCoy.

“To my right is our infantry commander, Ivan Rogov, and to his right is my daughter, Melissa, who is also commander of our air support,” James concluded, having only to pause in his delivery to let each indicated mercenary respectfully bow to the royal pony.

“I am pleased to meet thee and thine,” Luna said, once the human had finished speaking. “I am princess Luna, co-ruler of Equestria and stewardess of the night. I bid thee welcome in the name of mine father, the king eternal, mine mother, the queen absent, and in the name of mine subjects, over whom I watch.”

“Thank you, your highness,” James said, and then bowed again, though it was shallow and quick this time. “And thank you for this meeting. I know these must be trying times for you and your people, and I appreciate that you are willing to take the time to speak with us.”

Luna smiled politely at that, and then bowed her head slightly. “Then let us be off,” she said, and then turned and began to walk off, prompting the various persons and ponies behind her to follow. “We hath much to discuss.”

Chapter 14 - Second Canterlot

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Author's Note: There are several hyperlinks in the following chapter that lead to a Battletech wiki. Reading these is NOT required to enjoy the story, they are simply provided for anyone who wants to know more.

Royal Palace

Canterlot, Equestria

September 24th AD 3070/1023 RC

The sound of booted feet and shod hooves echoed in the halls as the entourage traveled through the spacious corridors of the Royal Palace. Surprisingly spacious, James McKenna mentally amended, as he openly gazed about the gilded corridors. And decorated with enough gold to buy a planet, he added to the previous thought, exaggerating considerably to reinforce the vast amount of wealth he saw.

His gazing did not go unnoticed, however. “Enjoying the view?” Starbuck asked, from where he walked aside the lead human, as he cast a smirk-laden glance up at the commander.

James chuckled at that. “I'm just impressed,” he said, truthfully. “Seeing the city and the palace from the air was beautiful enough. But the decorations here are just as spectacular.”

“Is very shiny, here,” Ivan added, from where he walked in the group of humans that trailed the mercenary commander. “Like the future.”

Princess Luna, who had been leading the group, paused at that and then turned her head back to look back and up at the tall human. “I... beg your pardon?” She asked, confused.

“Please, don't mind Ivan, your highness,” James said, somewhat sheepishly. “He likes to think out loud.”

“Also, princess,” Starbuck added. “He thinks like miss Pinkie Pie.”

“Dear heavens,” Luna gasped. “There are two of them now?”

A heartbeat of silence passed, and then was ended by a round of chortles coming from Schneider, Melissa, and Rainbow Dash, while the others in the group looked indifferent or mortified. For his part, James felt his face twist up as his mind was torn between chuckling along with his friend and his daughter, or being embarrassed. The deadlock was broken, however, when he saw the flummoxed look on Luna's face, and couldn't help but chuckle. “Ah, sorry, your highness,” the human commander said, after working the humor out of his system. “It's just that I said something similar when I saw Ivan and Pinkie interact for the first time.”

Another brief moment passed, and then was again ended by the sound of chuckling, this time coming from the night princess herself. “I see,” she said, with a brief smile. “Well then, I know thy sanity is secure,” she said, and then turned and started off, again prompting the group to follow.

“There are some who might question that,” James replied. “My wife, for one.”

“And me,” Schneider added.

“You raised me, and I think you're nuts,” Melissa chimed in.

“Yer more daft than a Wobbie on stims after a three-day bender,” McCoy wryly said.

James glanced back at the speakers and gave them his traditional, one-eyed squint. Before he could speak, however, Ivan clasped a large hand on the elder McKenna's shoulder. “Ivan know you good man, commander,” he said, in his usual gregarious tone.

“Thank you, Ivan,” James said, and then turned back around so he could studiously ignore the second round of chuckles coming from the other three humans. As he returned his attention to the front, though, he caught Starbuck giving him another, sidelong smirk.

“You don't ever seem to catch a break, do you?” The pegasus captain asked.

James sighed briefly before he replied. “It certainly feels like it,” he muttered, as the group made a turn into another corridor. “But I think we should get down to business, rather than discuss my arguably many shortcomings.”

“Agreed,” princess Luna chimed from up front. “Whilst it is amusing to hear thy verbal sparring, time is of the essence.”

“Glad tae 'ear it,” McCoy spoke up, his voice gruff. “I'd like tae get with yer armorer soon as I can,” he added, as the group came to another stop so the princess could look upon the grizzled tech with a measure of surprise at being addressed so directly. “Ye got a wee bit o' luck, lassie, in that yer tech levels ain't so bad. Kinda schizophrenic, but I seen worse 'fore the Fourth War,” McCoy said, and then paused to scratch his chin. “I might be able tae whip up somethin' nasty 'nuff tae make O'Connell uncomfortable if'n I get some help an' resources.”

“I... see,” Luna said, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “Thou dost not speak much with royalty, dost thou?” She asked.

“Ain't had much use fer all that shtick,” McCoy replied, as he crossed his arms and derisively sniffed. “Half th' nobles I met ain't worth th' hydrogen it takes tae launch 'em into a sun.”

“'Drew,” James said, after having covered his face with the palm of his right hand. “For the love of God, please stop talking.”

The sound of laughter washed over the entourage then, and everyone turned to see Rainbow Dash rolling on her back as she guffawed. “No no, please, this is great!” She said, in between laughs. “This is so much better when he's giving grief to somepony else!”

“I beg your pardon?” Luna asked, her voice taking on a timbre of anger.

Twilight Sparkle, upon hearing the dark note in the princess' voice, cleared her throat and then spoke up. “Rainbow Dash has been working with mister McCoy on a project, your majesty,” she explained, with a polite smile on her muzzle. “Supposedly it's a way for ponies to use human-made firearms.”

“Yeah,” Dash added, as she clambered back onto all fours. “McCoy's kinda rough on everypony, but he's cool,” she added, and then glanced up and gave the master tech a wink.

“If ye say so, lassie,” McCoy replied, indifferent.

Luna frowned. Heavens above, must it come to that? To wield such weapons and make wholesale slaughter easier for my ponies to achieve?

Yet, what choice do we have? The night princess mused, and then shook her head. “I see,” she said, and then looked over to the eldest human. “Very well, mister McCoy. Unless your commanding officer objects, we shall head to the armory first and introduce you to Steelshod, the master armorer for our guards regiments.”

“I think that would be a very good idea,” James readily agreed, as he dropped the hand from his face.

“Very well, then,” Luna said, and then turned to lead the group down a different corridor.

* * * *

It only took a few minutes for the group to traverse through the gilded corridors of the Palace and enter the guard barracks, even with the humans having to occasionally pause in order to duck under particularly low doorways. Soon enough, however, they entered the tall, relatively dark armory, and then paused to gather their bearings.

Predictably, it was McCoy who spoke first. “What a great heap o' junk!” He derisively scoffed.

“Junk!” A voice answered him from across the room, and everyone turned their attention to the large, brown earth pony walking towards them. “Who dares call my work junk?” He angrily asked.

“Th' guy who's gonna take ye back tae school, that's who!” McCoy countered, his voice just as belligerent as the pony's. “Teach ye a thing or two 'bout workin' with real equipment!”

“I hardly think-” Luna began, attempting to interject.

Unfortunately, she was drowned out as Steelshod took his chance to reply. “Like you would know anything about real equipment, you filthy ape!” He snorted, in a most equine manner. “I've heard all about your so-called technology, and I can't say I'm impressed!”

“Well of course ye ain't!” McCoy countered. “Yer a half-ignorant savage, that's why!”

“Savage? Come over here and I'll show you savage, you tinpot-wearing neophyte! Why, I'll bet you've never even tried forging real armor!”

“'Course I didn't! Because I fix things, not make 'em broken tae begin with!”

“I don't think you'd know what broken was even if I smashed a sword over your head!”

“As if ye would 'ave th' wits tae know how tae smash a sword!”

“In all my years of-!” Steelshod began, and then abruptly paused and looked around. “Wait, they're gone,” he said, in a calmer voice.

“Oh?” McCoy replied, and then looked around the armory himself. As Steelshod had said, the two were now alone, and the human sighed roughly. “'Bout bloody time! I swear, that princess o' yers must be slow.”

“Hey now, enough of that,” Steelshod replied, as he raised an eyebrow at the other armorer. “Princess Luna is a fine pony. Just, well,” he added, and then paused for a moment before he sighed. “Okay, yeah, a bit slow when it comes to socializing, but otherwise very nice.”

“Well I ain't known her long, so I'll take yer word fer it,” McCoy said, as he walked over to a workbench, and then pulled out a stool from it and sat down. “Name's Andrew McCoy,” he said, and then offered his hand when the earth pony came over.

“Steelshod,” the brown stallion replied, as he reached up with a foreleg and shook the proffered hand. “Nice to know even aliens have sane engineers.”

“'Course we do,” McCoy said, as he reached into the coat he wore and then took out a glass bottle. “It's th' same thing everywhere ye go: we fix things an' keep th' place runnin' while the idiots go out and break all over again so's we can fix it.”

“I'll drink to that,” Steelshod replied, with an amused grunt. “Speaking of which, what did you bring?” He asked, as McCoy opened the bottle.

“Scotch,” the human tech replied, and then took a long sniff of the drink's aroma before he sighed contentedly. “Straight from th' casks on Northwind; best ye'll find outside o' bonnie ol' Scotland herself,” he added, and then offered the bottle to the pony.

“Never heard of it,” Steelshod said, as he grabbed the bottle with a hoof and the inherent attraction magic it held, and then took a hearty swig. The pony then quickly set the bottle down and shook his head while letting his lower jaw hang loose so that it and his lips could swing back and forth in a vain attempt to ease the sensations within. Finally, he brought up a foreleg and then slapped himself across the muzzle.

“Good stuff, eh?” McCoy slyly asked, with a smile as he picked up the bottle, and then took a swig for himself.

“Extremely good,” Steelshod said, with a strong tone of approval in his voice. “I think we're going to get along just fine.”

McCoy smiled at that, and then set the bottle on the work bench before he stood up. “Then let's see what ye got, an' I'll see what we can both do tae make our bosses happy.”

* * * *

I should have stayed in the armory, Rainbow Dash thought, as she sat on a cushion seat set alongside a long table covered with maps and the humans' holographic display. I'm pretty sure McCoy was just trying to be friendly, in his own way, the cyan pegasus mused, as she stifled a yawn and then looked around the room.

It wasn't too large, set as it was in the top of one of the Royal Palace's high towers. Still, the circular room was more than large enough to enclose the large table that everyone sat around, as well as the various meeting participants and several guards, all without feeling cramped. Large windows set into the cardinal points were opened to the midday air to let in a cool breeze and plenty of light, which kept the room from becoming stuffy and unfortunately prevented Dash from having an excuse to leave and entertain her easily bored mind. All they keep talking about is stuff like march paths and logistics and magic shields and stuff. Why don't they get to the good part where they go out and stomp the invaders' heads into the ground? Rainbow had to admit the mental image made her smile a bit, though it was short lived as Schneider started giving a lecture on something the pegasus understood vaguely as being about force multipliers. Whatever those are.

A sudden, silent pang ran through the pegasus then, and Rainbow frowned a bit as she started to regret missing breakfast. Stupid soldiers and their whole “get up at sunrise” thing, Dash grumbled to herself, as she remembered almost being late that morning. I skipped on breakfast to get there on time, and what do they do? Spend twenty minutes looking around and jabbering before we left for Canterlot. I could have had some oatmeal by then, at least.

Or maybe I could've hit up McCoy for some bacon again, the cyan pegasus thought, and then swallowed as she started salivating at the thought. The grizzled human had been sneaking her bits of the salty pork product every morning since her first, accidental ingestion, and thus had ingratiated himself with Rainbow. Despite the shock she had received upon finding out what it was, the mare had found herself wanting more. It's just so darn good. And I took a look at those articles on domestication Twilight was reading when she got blitzed, I saw the pictures and movies. Those animals really aren't like us here at all. Her guilt assuaged, Dash had thus held little concern at consuming a piece or two during the days she worked with the human tech.

Her stomach sent out another pang of protest at the reminder of the heavenly ambrosia, and Dash frowned as she considered alternative measures. A sudden idea hit her, and she glanced to her left, where Melissa was sitting cross-legged on a cushion seat. The pegasus watched the human for a moment to make sure that she wasn't involved in the current discussion – to the contrary, she seemed almost as bored as Dash – and then gently nuzzled her arm.

Melissa jerked slightly, and then surreptitiously looked around to make sure no one noticed. Fortunately, everyone was focused on the maps, holographic projection, and discussion, and so they didn't notice the pilot's slight jump. Well, one person isn't distracted by the meeting, Melissa wryly thought, as she felt the nudge again and then turned her head to look down at Rainbow Dash. “What is it?” The human whispered, as she leaned down to make sure she wouldn't disturb anyone.

“I'm hungry,” Dash replied, flatly, though also in a whisper. “Do you have any of that beef jerky with you?”

The pilot frowned at that. “Can't it wait?” She asked, and then glanced over to the four ponies sitting on the other side of the table to make sure none of them were taking an interest in the whispered conversation. “I'm sure we'll break for lunch, soon.”

“But I skipped breakfast,” Rainbow countered, and then turned her head aside a bit and blushed. “Besides, they won't be serving meat here.”

Melissa gave the pegasus a look made up of equal parts of incredulousness and guilt. Oh Lord, what have we done? The human silently asked, and then closed her eyes and turned her head back around to face forward again while she contemplated. Carnivorous little ponies... Well, I suppose there is some precedent to it, she mused, and then stifled a sigh.

For her part, Rainbow Dash had returned to looking around the table. Maybe I shouldn't have asked? She wondered. Mel's right, lunch will be around soon, and my eating meat seems to make everyone worked up. Well, it made Twilight worked up, the humans all act differently. Mel seems kind of in the middle, though. Wait, why am I thinking so much about this? The cyan mare frowned as she started to take stock of herself. Now that I mention it, I've been doing a lot more thinking lately, since the good humans got here. Especially since-

“Here,” came a whisper that lightly startled Dash, and she turned to see that Melissa had shifted her position to one where her legs were bent up in front of her rather than folded under her. This let the human pilot easily reach into one of the lower pockets on her flight suit, from which she had retrieved a small plastic baggie.

Rainbow Dash felt her mouth water again as her friend opened the small bag with a single hand, careful to keep the movement and activity hidden from the others at the table with the bulk of her leg. Melissa then pulled out a small piece of material that was a brown so dark it could be mistaken for black, and then proffered the slip of homemade jerky towards the pegasus.

The deep, smoky aroma was pungent in Dash's nostrils as she leaned over and carefully took the piece in her mouth, and then started to chew. Immediately, the rich flavors of soy sauce, brown sugar, liquid smoke – whatever that is, Dash mused – and of course beef, washed over her tongue, and the mare had to close her eyes as she leaned back into the standard pony sitting position. I don't care what anypony says, this is heavenly, Rainbow mused, as she lost herself in the bliss of chewing on the cured, sliced roast.

“Art thou enjoying thyself, miss Dash?” The cool, liquid nature of princess Luna's voice broke through Dash's reverie, and the rainbow-maned pegasus snapped open her eyes to see that everyone at the table was looking at her.

Oh dear heavens, what did I do? Dash asked herself, only to have her memory recall that she had been making pleased noises as she chewed. Oh no, how loud was I?

That question was answered almost immediately. “Thou seemed rather vocal in thy enjoyment of your refreshment,” Luna wryly observed, with a raised eyebrow. “Might I ask what has thou so enthralled?”

Haystacks and hailbait, Dash thought, as she blushed so profoundly that it ignored her coat coloration and simply turned her face straight crimson. “Uh,” she uttered, and then froze as she realized she was still chewing on the delicious morsel, her mouth still salivating over its flavorful texture.

“For pony's sake, Dash,” Twilight said, her voice betraying a slight tone of shock. “Are you eating what I think you're eating?”

Rainbow turned her head towards the purple unicorn and frowned at her. “Maybe I am,” the pegasus said, and then reluctantly swallowed the jerky. “What's it to ya?”

Twilight looked incredulous for a moment, and then opened her mouth to speak. Before she could get a word out, however, the sounds of some sort of commotion came through the room's open windows and promptly drew every being's attention to the one that overlooked the city.

“What is that noise?” Luna asked, even as she stood and then walked over to the window. She was quickly followed by the other ponies at the table, who crowded around the princess, even to the point where Starbuck and Dash took to hovering above the small gathering.

What they saw was something they had witnessed before, and far too recently at that: various figures flying through the air above the city, screeching battle cries as ponies ran for cover below. “We're under attack!” Shining Armor exclaimed in surprise.

“Griffons!” Luna growled out, and then turned to her two captains. “Deploy the Guard immediately!”

“Yes, princess!” Both Shining Armor and Starbuck replied immediately and simultaneously, before each brought a foreleg up in a brief salute. Starbuck then immediately turned and started to bellow orders to the pegasus guards in the room.

Armor himself started to head for the stairs down to meet his own unit, but froze as he saw three figures rise in the air just outside the window. All were griffons, and all held bows at the ready in their manipulative forelimbs and were taking aim at princess Luna, who still faced away from the opening. With only seconds to spare, the unicorn lit up his horn and telekinetically grasped Luna and hurled her to the side, out of the line of fire.

Unfortunately, though, Shining Armor stood directly across from the open window, and the arrows that were launched now had nothing to stop them before they embedded themselves deeply into his unarmored chest, to the sound of meaty thunks. The pain burned deep, and despite his training, Shining Armor found himself unable to react in any fashion, save to collapse to the floor with a groan.

“Armor!” Twilight Sparkle shouted, even as she ran towards her fallen brother. The screech of griffons, however, froze the pony in her tracks, and everyone turned to see the three assailants charging in with swords drawn from belts around their waists.

Two of them never made it, as the room's pegasus guards blazed out from the window and slammed into them at speed. Both ponies proved well-trained as they twisted their bodies at the last second to avoid the sharp weapons, and subsequently began to pummel the griffons with hooves from within the latter's ability to use their swords.

The third griffon ignored the fight behind him and continued forward, screeching a war cry that struck fear into those unaccustomed to battle. His sword raised, he barreled forward and aimed for Twilight Sparkle. Before he could get to the purple pony, however, a blue aura enveloped the being and brought him to an immediate halt that caused the sword to slip his grip and clatter to the floor.

“Thou art not welcome here!” Luna, her eyes aglow, shouted at the griffon. It was the last thing the hapless creature saw, as the aura around his neck intensified and then squeezed inward rapidly, crushing the griffon's windpipe and spine simultaneously. Once it went limp, Luna turned and then hurled the body outward with her magic, aiming for and hitting one of the two griffons that were still sparring back and forth with the guards.

The third griffon, however, seemed rather luckier than his fellows, and with a caw of triumph sank his blade through a gap in the armor of the pony he fought. A scream of pain and the sickening noise of metal scraping metal sounded as the wounded pony dropped out of sight.

His victory did not last long, however, as captain Starbuck raced in behind the griffon and, with a quick pirouette, bucked the back of the unarmored flier's head. The sound of bone crunching was heard again, and another figure dropped from the skies.

Starbuck wasted no time in celebration as he immediately turned to the other guard still in the air. “Check on the corporal,” he ordered, and then turned to survey the area as the guard immediately dove to see to his felled comrade. Seeing no other griffons nearby, he turned and then flew back into the tower and took in the scene before him.

Twilight Sparkle was, of course, standing next to her downed brother, her horn lit up while she muttered as if concentrating on a spell. Rainbow Dash stood on the floor next to her friend, between Twilight and the window the attack had come from, her wings fully extended and her face set in a display of fierce determination. Behind them, the humans had tilted the table over to act as a shield, though they had tilted it in the opposite direction of the attack; a move Starbuck realized was intended to protect the ponies' rear against the prospect of an attack from the other open windows. The hominids crouched behind its limited protection, wielding the meeting's cushion seats as makeshift shields.

It was princess Luna, however, who drew the pegasus captain's attention as he landed. The alicorn's eyes were still glowing slightly, and her face was set in a mask of anger. “Captain Starbuck,” she said, as she walked to the open window the steel blue pony had just flown through. “Continue to deploy the guards, see to captain Armor, and secure the palace,” Luna added, as she reached the window and then spread her wings. She paused then, and looked back at the pegasus officer. “I will see to the city.” With that, she turned her head back around, and then launched herself into the air and sped off towards the heart of the growing chaos.

“I have a recommendation, Jim,” Schneider said, into the silence that followed. “Do not piss off the princess. Ever.”

“Seconded and passed by acclimation,” James said, as he and the other humans stood. “Ivan, you have the best first aid training, go help Twilight's brother,” he added, glancing at the large man.

“Da, commander,” Ivan replied, and then moved off to do as ordered.

“McKenna,” a voice said, and James turned to see Starbuck hovering at human eye-level, a few feet away. “I know we asked you to come unarmed, but I need you to be able to watch over yourselves for now.”

“We can, once we get to the Ferret,” James replied. “We have a firearm stash hidden under the floor plates, just in case.”

Starbuck gave the human an incredulous look. “In case of what?” He asked.

James shrugged. “Whatever,” he replied, nonchalantly.

“And he calls me paranoid,” Schneider muttered.

“Not the time, Hermes,” Melissa quietly countered, as she warily glanced about the room.

“Indeed,” Starbuck responded. “Alright, I'm off to organize the guards. If you can lend any help to securing the palace, I'd appreciate it,” he added.

“We'll do what we can,” James replied.

Starbuck nodded at this, and then turned and glanced briefly at the wounded unicorn on the floor. His face set into stone at that, and the captain raced off through the palace corridors with a fierce blast of his wings.

Once he was gone, the human commander turned to face Melissa and Schneider. “Alright, we'll need the air cleared,” James began. “Melissa, when we get to the Ferret you'll take off and head for the DropShip. I want you and Eddie airborne for a CAP yesterday.”

“Consider it done,” Melissa replied.

“Hermes,” James continued, as he turned to fully face his second officer. “You, Ivan, and I are going to get our guns and then get to the armory to make sure McCoy is okay.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Schneider agreed, with a nod.

“What about us?” A scratchy voice asked, and James turned around to see Rainbow Dash hovering much the same manner Starbuck had done. “And what about Twi's brother?” She added, and then pointed a hoof to where both Twilight and Ivan were still working on the wounded pony.

“There's not much we can do about him now,” James replied, somewhat reluctantly. “I would suggest you two get help from whatever passes for an infirmary in the palace.”

“That won't be good enough,” Twilight said, as she stood up and then turned to look towards the small gathering and raised her voice. “The griffons coated their arrowheads with tatzelwurm venom; a rare and powerful anti-magic poison,” she explained, even as she fought tears and the cracking of her own voice. “It not only keeps a pony from using their innate magic, it also prevents healing spells and potions from working.

“But your medicine isn't based on magic,” Twilight continued, her voice taking on a hopeful tone. “Please, if you're going back, take Shining Armor with you.” She lowered her head then, and her voice dropped to a near whisper. “I- I don't think he'll make it, otherwise.”

“That might make it worse,” Schneider interjected. “Moving the wounded should only by done by trained professionals, or as a matter of last resort.”

“B-But he'll die if we don't move him!” Twilight wailed, her voice cracking.

“Is true, commander,” Ivan added, from where he was applying makeshift bandaged ripped from his dress jacket to Shining Armor's torso. “Pony lose lot of blood, and poison must hurt more than magic; he loses strength by moment.”

James frowned at that, but remained quiet for a moment as he thought. Soon enough, however, he sighed, and then nodded his head. “If you can carry your brother with your magic, we'll take him,” he said to visibly relieved Twilight Sparkle.

“Jim,” Schneider began, slowly. “Are you sure?”

“Enough, Hermes,” James replied, as he made a cutting gesture with his hand. “We're doing this,” he added, and then glanced around at the others. “Let's get going.”

* * * *

“Third platoon, get moving!” Starbuck called, and used a foreleg to wave the aforementioned unit out the door of the barracks. “Reinforce the patrols in the Merchant's Quarter! Sixth platoon- Where the cracking earth is sixth platoon?” He yelled the question, as he cast his gaze over the complete chaos the normally orderly barracks had fallen into. Ponies were flying or running back and forth, desperately putting on armor and grabbing spears with bent hooves, or blades that had to be strapped onto their forelegs.

“Sixth hasn't reported in,” a besieged unicorn sergeant replied, as he made his way through the maelstrom. “They had guard duty around the princesses' quarters in the north wing.”

Starbuck frowned at that, as something niggled at his mind. “But I sent the honor guard detachment to relieve them as soon as I got here,” he said, and then looked around. “And I don't see them here...”

“Incoming!” The call came from outside, and both Starbuck and the sergeant turned and dashed outside, just ahead of a wave of guardsponies in various states of dress. They came out expecting a fight, and were thus momentarily confused when all they saw was a panicked earth pony guard pointing upwards with a foreleg.

Wait, where is he pointing? Starbuck asked himself, as he followed the line of the pony's leg. Soon enough he saw what had frightened the sentry so much: Griffons, scores of them! The captain thought, as he saw the thick mass of heavily armed and even armored fliers aiming for a specific set of rooms. His blood froze as he recognized the location, and his eyes widened in fear even as his pupils shrunk. “They're after Celestia!” He yelled, and then leapt into the air with a furious flap of his wings. “Everypony to the princess' quarters! Move!”

* * * *

Garadan couldn't help but smirk as he stood on the outermost battlement of Canterlot's vaunted walls. Even at war, they had too light a guard here, he thought, with a glance to the side where a gutted pony guard lay, still and unmoving. Pitiful, the griffon thought, as he returned his attention back to the chaos over the city proper. If it hadn't been for Celestia, and now Luna, we could have taken these lands ages ago. They are truly weak.

Part of his mind admonished him for the thought, and Garadan mentally conceded that the guardsponies were indeed putting up a splendid fight. They are well trained, in spite of their coddling, the griffon admitted, as he watched two such guards hold off a group of five griffon warriors in mid-air. The pegasi fought fiercely, but the griffons' superior numbers ensured that whenever one made a mistake, left himself too open, then a blade or a talon would swoop in to exact a toll of blood. A few moments of this left the guards both downed, probably dead... and three griffons with them.

This, though, did not bother Garadan so much. The Swift Kill and Withering Winds clans were only too eager to volunteer to be the bulk forces, he remembered from the planning. Flying Strikes has only a marginal stake in this, and what we have put in is easily replaceable. Part of him wanted to recoil at such a callous thought, but long, lean years had done much to drain his sympathy and empathy down to minimal levels. Our lands cannot long support such numbers, anyway. Even if we lose this war, the survivors will at least finally be able to have full bellies without kowtowing to beings that should rightfully be prey.

A sudden, panicked screech from deep over Canterlot airspace startled Garadan out of his reverie, and he craned his head over to see a midnight-blue blur racing into the midst of the thickest group of griffons. Warriors fell in rapid succession as the newcomer made a quick pass, crushing their necks and heads with quick telekinetic strikes.

“Looks like the featherbrains from the Broken Claws didn't get the job done,” Gilda acidly observed, from where she stood next to her father.

Garadan sighed at that. “It was a long shot, anyway,” he admitted. “Fortunately, our new alliance has given us alternative options,” he added, and then turned to look at the third griffon standing on the battlement. “Yesari, use that radio thing and call in those “aircraft” the Desperadoes have,” he ordered. “They will keep Luna busy while the main thrust moves on the palace. And who knows?” He asked, with a grin. “She is the younger sister, and has no armor. Perhaps those so-called “fighters” will be enough to remove her, as well.”

* * * *

“I can't believe it's this easy,” Schneider darkly observed, as the group made its way unhindered through the corridors of the palace.

“I can't believe you wanted to leave Twi's brother back there,” Rainbow Dash quietly growled out from where she flew, keeping pace with the others.

“It was logical,” Schneider protested.

“Shut it, the both of you,” James said, with a glance over his shoulder from where he led the group. “Keep your eyes and ears focused outside, not on bickering.”

Mercifully, the two mutually antagonistic persons fell silent and did as asked, and turned their attentions to their surroundings. James gave a silent prayer of thanks, and then returned his own attention to keeping the moving party on track. Like any good mercenary meeting a client for the first time, he had memorized the path they had taken just in case, and this paranoia served him well as it made finding the way back to the landing fields easy and quick.

Unfortunately, when they got there they found the doors barricaded with one of the various decorative tables from the richly appointed corridors. James reached up and yanked on the table, but found it had been wedged in rather well. “Alright, we're going to need something to bust this down,” he said, as he turned to face the others in the group.

“Ivan go get planter from two halls back,” the burly human offered. “Looked heavy.”

“There's no time for that!” Twilight interjected. Her voice was strained, both from the emotional toll of the last few minutes, and also from the strain of levitating her brother. “Just step aside, I'll get it!”

“Twilight...” Rainbow Dash began to speak, as she landed on the floor next to the purple unicorn. “Can you handle it?”

“I damn well better!” Twilight heatedly replied, and the aura of her magic grew brighter along her horn. “Get out of the way!” She called to the humans standing in front of her, who quickly moved out and aside of the short hallway. Once they were clear, the unicorn concentrated and focused her magical grip around the table, and her aura soon enveloped it. She tried yanking it out, but the table was firmly wedged. Incensed, she gritted her teeth and then tried again, putting even more force into it. The hardwood furnishing shifted, but for the most part remained in place.

James frowned at this, and he turned to regard his infantry commander. “Ivan, go get that planter,” he said, quietly.

“No,” Twilight muttered, as much to herself as in reply to the human. “I've got this,” she added, and then concentrated again. Her aura, however, faded from the table, even as her horn grew bright.

“Oh, hailbait,” Rainbow Dash muttered, even as she stepped away from her friend. “Fire in the hole!” She called out, using the human lingo she had learned, and then brought up a hoof to cover her eyes. The others in the group took their cues from the pegasus, and all mirrored her move with their arms just as a brilliant flash shot from Twilight's horn and slammed into the table.

James winced at the noise of the magical assault, and then lowered his arm once the worst seemed over. To his surprise, the table, and the doors it had barred, were gone. Correction, he thought, as he spied a cloud of dust and splinters descending to the ground. They've been annihilated.

Schneider noticed this as well, and he looked to the commander and caught James' eye. “Are you sure we're needed here?” He wryly asked.

“Shut up and get to the chopper,” James said, as he took the lead once again and raced down the hall. The others followed, and they all paused at the blasted entrance to look outside.

“The coast looks clear,” Melissa observed, as she finished looking over the area.

“There was a fight here, though,” Schneider observed, and then pointed out several unmoving shapes lying in the grass of the field. “I hate melee combat, it always leaves a bloody mess.”

“Move,” James ordered, as he ignored the off-handed remark, and then set off across the field.

The group followed, and soon they were at the Ferret, whereupon Melissa immediately pulled herself aboard and then hastened for the cockpit. Twilight was next, as she levitated her brother into the open infantry compartment, and then set him down carefully before she did a quick teleport that flashed her aboard.

“Why didn't you do that this morning?” Rainbow Dash asked, as she came to a hover next to the aircraft's open doors.

“I didn't think it would be polite,” Twilight Sparkle grumbled, as she used her magic to reach for one of the intercom headset/protectors. “Also I was nervous enough that I might have ended up back at the library.”

“Pardon me,” Schneider interrupted the conversation, as he climbed into the Ferret and then hastened to a nondescript panel set into the helicopter's floor. “You're going to have to hold your brother still the whole way, miss Sparkle,” the intelligence officer added, as he went to work. “The 'copter isn't set up as a medivac, so there's no way to secure him.”

“I'll be careful,” Twilight promised.

“Good girl,” Schneider added, as he pulled the panel aside, and revealed an array of weapons and equipment.

Despite the situation, both of the ponies in the group were curious, and turned their heads to look at the hidden cache. “That's a lot of stuff,” Rainbow Dash observed.

“Just a few pistols, some ammo, radios,” Schneider replied, as he took a weapon out and then turned to toss it to James. “And a satchel of pentaglycerine.”

“WHAT?!” The shout came from the cockpit, and a visibly angry Melissa poked her head out a moment later. “You had pentaglycerine on board my bird without telling me?”

Schneider almost looked hurt as he gazed back at the pilot. “It wasn't armed,” he offered, plaintively.

“I'll kill you later,” Melissa retorted, and then pulled herself back to her preparations.

“Hermes, are you trying to piss off every female in a ten-kilometer radius?” James asked, as he checked his automatic slug-thrower.

Schneider shrugged as he returned to his task. “Just my special gift, I guess,” he offered.

“So, what is that pentaglutamate, or whatever?” Rainbow Dash asked, her curiosity piqued.

“It's an extremely powerful plastic explosive,” Schneider replied, as he took out a laser pistol and then affixed its holster to his belt. “It's very safe to transport, so long as it's not armed. When it is, though, you could sneeze on it and set it off,” he added, as he took out an exceedingly large pistol. “Ivan! Is this one yours?” He asked, temporarily interrupting his conversation with Dash.

“Da!” The large human replied, and then reached out with a hand so Schneider could pass the weapon to him. “Ivan had forgotten he left Petya here.”

“Right,” Schneider muttered, and then turned to pick up a satchel and a small cylinder on a metal chain from the cache. “Anyway, this pack's got enough punch to blast through a meter of solid steel,” he added, as he looped the satchel's carrying strap over his neck, and then put the cylinder in a shirt pocket.

“What?” Twilight asked from the side, having paid silent attention to the conversation. “Why in Equestria would you carry around something like that for “just in case”?” She asked, in a shocked tone.

“Clearly, you've never been to Solaris VII,” James chimed in from outside. “You done, Hermes?” He asked, as the Ferret's engines started their whine.

“Just getting the spare ammo,” Schneider replied, as he pulled another satchel out. He took a moment to return and secure the false panel, and then climbed out of the Ferret as the blades started spooling up.

“Safe journey, miss Sparkle!” James shouted, as he reached up and then yanked the portside door to the infantry compartment closed. Ivan, who had moved to the other side during the brief interlude, shut the starboard door, and then joined with James, Schneider, and Dash, as they sprinted back for the door to the palace. Once there, they paused and looked back to watch the Ferret rapidly lift into the air, and then turn to head over the lip of Canterlot's immense platform, whereupon the helicopter dropped from sight.

“Are they going to be okay?” Rainbow Dash asked, as she hovered in mid-air, still facing where the Ferret had disappeared from view.

“If anyone can fly them to safety, it's my Mel,” James answered, as he took several magazines that Schneider proffered from the ammo satchel and then stuffed them into his pockets. “In the meantime, the palace needs to be secured.”

“How the hay do we do that?” Rainbow asked, as she turned around to look the human in the eye.

“We aren't doing anything,” James replied, as he met the pegasus' gaze. “As a civilian, you are going to find a place to bunker down while the battle is being fought.”

Dash was taken aback by that, and she took a moment to consider her reply. “Who the hay do you think I am?” She asked. “I'm not backing down from a fight!”

“This isn't just a fight,” James retorted. “This is war. Unless you're ready, willing, and able to kill someone on a second's notice, you have no place on the battlefield.”

Again, the mare was taken aback, though this time it seemed to be out of shock. “Kill someone?” She asked, sounding doubtful. “I-I don't know. Is that really necessary?”

“Dash, we saw that guard take a sword to the chest and fall from the sky,” Schneider interjected, as he handed Ivan the spare magazines to the bulky pistol the large man affected. “He's probably dead. Those griffons the princess dealt with certainly are dead. Like Jim said, this isn't a game, this is real,” he added, and then sighed as he took out the spare energy cells for his laser pistol from the equipment satchel. “If you're not prepared to do what's necessary, then you're just going to get in the way.”

“Or worse,” James added. “You'll be a liability. Someone to watch out for, someone to take care of, because you're not able to protect yourself. That divides the attention of people like us, who will try to fight and protect you at the same time. Although we'll do it, you could just be the distraction that gets us, or a guard, killed.

“So think long and hard, Rainbow Dash,” James continued. “Because right now, I can't take the time to stuff you in a corner and make it so you can't get out and interfere,” he added, and then paused to give the pegasus a hard look so she would know he was not making an idle threat. “I can't stop you from doing what you want, so whatever decision you make is on your head. But if you come with us, know that if you're not willing to do your duty, then you might as well run and hide. Because otherwise you will get someone killed, and if you're lucky it'll only just be yourself.”

Dash thought about the humans' words of warning for a few long, tense moments. Soon enough, though, her face set into a hard mask, and she nodded. “If that's what I have to do,” she began, still sounding a bit unsure. “Then I'll do it, if it means protecting others.”

Despite the situation, James faintly smiled. “Whatever else happens here Dash, know this,” he said, as he reached up with his free hand and patted the mare's foreleg. “You've got your head on straight.”

“That just leaves us to wonder if your head is on straight, Jim,” Schneider dryly observed.

“We'll see,” James said, and then hefted his pistol and double-checked the safety. “Now let's go to the armory and see if-”

The sound of another set of beating wings caused McKenna to cut off his words, and the group tensed in anticipation; the humans aiming their weapons in the direction of the sound, while Rainbow Dash simply looked ready to tackle an enemy.

Fortunately, none of them needed to act, as a pegasus wearing only a helm flew around a corner of the palace. He paused for a moment to look around, and then raced towards the mercenaries when he spied them. The pony stallion came in hard, and his landing ended up with him creating a small furrow in the grass. “Commander McKenna?” He asked, his voice cracking with pain and exhaustion.

“Are you alright?” James asked, as he holstered his pistol and then walked up to the guard. “Do you need aid?”

“No, I'm fine,” the guard replied, as he worked to regain his footing. “Captain Starbuck sent me, he urgently needs your help at the north wing of the palace,” the pegasus said, as he finished standing, and then turned to look at the human. “The attack on the city is a feint, the real target is princess Celestia.”

“No,” Rainbow Dash breathed, shocked enough that she actually settled to the ground on her hooves.

James ignored the mare, and instead kept his attention focused on the messenger. “How bad is it?” He asked.

“The enemy has taken the corridors leading to the princess' chambers,” the guard reported, even as he continued to breathe heavily from his sprint. “Celestia's personal guard is holding them off, and Starbuck is leading a relief force from the outside, but the griffons have come in great numbers.” The stallion paused at that, and then gulped. “The captain is not sure that the guards protecting the princess can hold out.”

A moment of silence followed that, as everyone absorbed the import of the guard's words. Finally, James broke the silence. “Well, shit,” he said, and then shook his head briefly. “Alright. We're off to the north wing.”

“I'll lead you,” the guard said, and then took a step forward. As he started to move, however, the thunderous sound of fighter engines was heard roaring overhead.

“That was quick,” James said, sounding surprised.

Schneider, however, simply scowled. “Too quick,” he said, and then looked up. Soon enough, he spied a moving shape in the sky above, and then pointed it out. “Those aren't ours.”

“Lucifers,” James muttered. “This day just keeps getting better and better.”

* * * *

Even in her relatively short time alive, Lieutenant Samantha Leblanc had seen a lot of things. A veteran of the FedCom Civil War, she had watched dropships explode in low orbit as naval-grade particle cannons tore them apart and ignited their atmospheres. She had seen towns crushed under the indifferent footfalls of 'mech regiments more concerned with blasting each other than trying to avoid collateral damage. She had even, once, seen an honest politician, though most never believed her when she told that particular story.

What she saw now, though, as she flew over the improbable city perched on the side of an improbable mountain on an improbable world filled with improbable creatures of myth, made her wonder if she had finally snapped. Okay, dark blue winged pony with a horn tearing the crap out of every griffon she sees, Leblanc thought, and then shook her helmeted head briefly as she flipped the MFD in her cockpit from the belly camera back to showing her weapons status. “Alright, people,” she said, after turning on her radio with a flick of her thumb on the HOTAS controls. “In case your minds have gone soft from sitting on your asses, that blue thing's our target. Valkyrie Four and I will take the first pass, and then Five and Six follow. Any questions?”

“Yeah,” Valkyrie Six, one Matthew Hill, asked. “If it took the whole battalion to knock out the first one, why is it just us four for this one? Shouldn't the skipper and Valk Two be with us, at least?”

Leblanc had to fight to keep a sigh from escaping her lips. “You know as well as I do that the major wants to keep the heavies in reserve,” she replied. And also because O'Connell is a paranoid moron, she didn't say. I'm not getting paid enough for this crap. “Now, unless there's anything else, go set up your runs.”

* * * *

“I'll feast on your entrails!” The griffon warrior screamed, as he flew through the air, a spear clutched in the claws of his birdlike forelimbs.

Princess Luna flapped her wings hard, and then pushed herself into a short loop that barely allowed her to miss the charging griffon. “Feast on this,” she countered, as she came back into a hover, and then cast a spell that sent bolt of lightning racing out from a cloud she had summoned at the beginning of the fight. The bolt struck true, and the griffon screamed in pain as millions of volts coursed through his body. He limply dropped from the sky, unconscious at least, possibly dead already, but Luna paid him no mind as a pair of griffons fired more of their arrows at her from a distance.

A quick shield spell deflected the two projectiles, and before the princess could react to the threat, a pair of pegasus guards swooped down from above, swords attached to their forelegs held out. A quick pass by the two distracted archers sliced off a griffon wing apiece and sent them tumbling from the sky in a flurry of feathers and blood.

The fight goes well, Luna thought, as she pushed herself into forward motion, and aimed to close with a cluster of griffons that were raining arrows down on an earth pony unit that had been deployed to fight any landed enemies in the streets. A bit too well, the princess worried, as she used her telekinesis to latch onto one griffon, and then swung him through the air to batter his fellows. Several fell to the street below, where the earth pony guards they had been firing upon now took their revenge, and while they acted Luna snapped the neck of the griffon she remotely held and then dropped the body. Certainly, the griffons must have counted on my being wounded, perhaps even assassinated, but the fact I am here and whole should signal them to retreat. Luna temporarily paused in her thoughts then, as she cast another shield spell that deflected arrows from the remaining griffons in the unit she had just attacked. Yet they persist. Why?

A roar in the sky answered her unspoken question, and the night princess looked up to see a quartet of odd craft, white fire blazing from their sterns, flying in formation overhead. As she watched them, though, they split into two groups of two, and then turned to head away from Canterlot in perpendicular directions.

The invaders, the princess thought, as she kept up her shield spell so she could ponder the new arrivals while the griffons impotently rained arrows at her. Then the griffons are indeed in league with O'Connell and his raiders. Truly, their treachery knows no bounds.

The roaring started to grow again, and Luna broker herself out of her reverie in time to turn and see a pair of the fightercraft coming in low and fast. Just as she finished recognizing them, however, sheets of flame blossomed on their noses, and two score of small projectiles rode tails of orange-red fire as they aimed themselves directly for the princess.

Luna reacted automatically and funneled more power into her shield spell just before the mind bogglingly fast projectiles impacted. A rippling cacophony of noise blasted her ears, even as the force of the explosions sent feedback through the spell to rip into the alicorn's mind. Barely had this ended when Luna felt another wave of pain as her shield was again tested, this time by beams of light so intense that they made the sun look like an ember in comparison.

The princess of the night barely kept herself airborne as the stress of the attacks ripped through the innate connection between her and the shield. Curse you, Conservation of Energy, Luna groused, even as the screeching rumble of the two fighters' engines roared in her ears. She opened her eyes from their pain-clenched state, and watched as the two large craft soared off into the midday sky with a grace that belied their unnatural construction.

She had little time to reflect on this, as the rumble of approaching engines was heard again, and Luna abruptly remembered that there were four of the enemy aircraft. With this thought, she rapidly recharged her shield back to full, just a split second before another wave of missiles and lasers slammed into it from her right.

She screamed, and for a moment lost control of herself. Luna quickly recovered, however, and then opened her eyes again to see the city rising up to meet her in an unpleasant manner. Several quick flaps of her wings arrested the princess' momentum enough for her to regain control, and Luna descended to softly alight on top of a random building to gather her bearings.

This attack makes far more sense, now, Luna darkly thought, as she looked around and saw the airspace had cleared somewhat. Those “air craft” are a most dangerous enemy, the princess mused, as she looked up and outward. She could barely make out the first group of fighters as they finished their turn in the distance and started to head in again even as the second group raced outwards on fusion-powered flame.

A memory popped up then, of a report that she had read from captain Starbuck following a discussion he had with the humans following the latter's review of recordings they had somehow pulled from the felled Desperado 'mechs. “Commander McKenna is adamant that while princess Celestia was certainly capable, she made a grievous tactical error in attempting to face a unknown foe in the open. Human tactical doctrine is best described by the aphorism, 'if you can see it, you can hit it. If you can hit it, you can kill it.' They emphasize mobility, the capacity to damage or destroy a foe (succinctly called “firepower”), stealth, and intelligence gathering. Static defense in the open – that is, not in the immediate vicinity of a vital or strategic location that must be held – is a last resort and its use by a human commander usually signals incompetency, desperation, or both. However, McKenna did point out that there are exceptions to this rule of hoof.”

If you can see it, you can hit it, Luna repeated that line in her mind, and then turned and hopped off of the rooftop and let herself drop to the ground two stories below. She didn't bother to use her wings to slow her descent, and instead let her strong alicorn constitution show itself as all four hooves cratered the pavement upon impact. Her drop came just in time, as two waves of missiles streaked in and blasted the rooftop of the building into a cloud of dust and debris that rained down into the street. Luna grunted as she was forced to cast another shield spell to keep herself from being buried under the detritus. Even when they miss, their weapons are dangerous and destructive, the princess mentally complained, as she dropped the shield and extricated herself from the pile of rubble that was once a fine haberdasher in the Merchant Quarter, while the enemy fighters finished their pass and flew overhead. This battle hath become more difficult.

* * * *

James winced as he heard the Desperado Lucifers make a third pass, the roar of their LRMs and the firecracker-like explosions of the missiles' impact sounding like doom for the ponies in the city. I can't help them now, though, the commander thought, as he followed behind the guard who led him and his friends through the Royal Palace's twisting corridors. And given how badly the ponies felt at their princess being wounded, if she is killed it will likely rip the heart out of their morale. No side even won a war without being confident in victory.

Plenty of them lost, though, even when they were confident, a voice in his head answered. James forced the idea from his head, however, as the sounds of battle came from up ahead. Time to work, he thought, as the guard led them around a final corner.

...And straight into a melee. Over a score of ponies and griffons were clashing against one another in mortal combat in one of the wider halls that acted as the main thoroughfares in the palace, and the group and their guide had to skid to a halt just beyond the scrimmaging bodies of warriors.

For a moment, none of the new arrivals did anything, as their minds adjusted to the unexpected situation, and the humans and Dash found themselves watching in awe as they saw professional pony soldiers in the midst of the kind of battle they had been trained for. James noted with not a little admiration as, while the griffons fought with relentless fury and bold, strong attacks, the ponies maneuvered through the air and on the ground with an elegant, refined set of movements that almost looked like dancing. Pegasus guards with swords strapped to their forelegs hovered in mid-air, and pirouetted, somersaulted, and rolled like acrobats to avoid attacks while simultaneously delivering their own. The few ponies on the ground, mainly earth but also a few unicorns and at least one pegasus with a bleeding stump in place of a wing, fought in their own manner, with the heavily armored earth ponies delivering and taking heavy punishment with their saddle-mounted spears and shields, while the unicorns moved sinuously, dodging between the primarily melee combatants and lending shielding to their allies while using their telekinesis to disrupt and distract their foes.

The new arrivals watched this battle play out for a few long moments. The ponies were easily better trained and better armed, but the griffons had fury and numbers, and slowly started to take their toll on the guards. When one of the pegasi in the air took a spear through a gap in his armor and fell to the floor, James had enough. With a dark fury born of the protectiveness that had grown in his heart towards the colorful equines, he brought up his pistol and aimed it at the griffon who had just scored a kill, who was even now raising his spear in triumphant display.

It was a display cut short, as the thundering report of the pistol filled and echoed in the close confines of the hall, and the slug raced through the air to slam straight into the chest of the hybrid creature of myth. The bullet then ripped through and out the back of the griffon, leaving a bloody hole that leaked gore even as the now-dead body dropped to the floor.

A silence fell over the hall for a brief moment, as the two battling forces paused to look towards the source of the unfamiliar attack. Suddenly struck by the incredulous nature of the moment, James couldn't help himself as a quote emerged from his memory. “I have come here to kick ass and chew gum,” he said, even as Ivan and Schneider aimed their pistols on either side. “And I'm all out of bubblegum.”

Hell broke loose at that, as the three humans seemed to understand the end of the line was their cue to fire. James singled out another griffon and sent a slug to rip open the chest of another hapless griffon. Schneider was next, and his laser pistol trilled as its beam burned into the head of a second griffon and flash-boiled the moisture inside the creature's brain, which caused the skull to explode outwards from the pressure.

By far, though, it was Ivan's Sternsnacht Heavy Pistol that stole the show. Long derided by marksmen for its inherently difficult nature, the ridiculously-sized “hand cannon” was considered an amusement at best by most soldiers. In the hands of Ivan, however, the Sternsnacht proved to be a force of nature as the 18mm slug blasted through two griffons in a row, ravaging their chests, before it lodged in the bone of a hind leg of a third attacker, who immediately fell to the floor in pain.

The battle resumed in earnest now, as both griffon and pony were broken out of their shock. For their part, the griffons realized the bigger threat, and several of them broke off to charge towards the humans. The mercenaries, however, were no fools, and had ducked back around the corner after firing their impromptu volley, with Schneider reaching up to drag Rainbow Dash through the air by a rear hoof as the pegasus mare had briefly frozen in shock at the carnage, save her wings which seemed to move on automatic to keep her airborne.

She abruptly broke out of said shock, however, when a griffon turned the corner and thrust a spear towards her. Acting on instinct, Dash dodged back and to the side before she turned and bucked the griffon with her hind legs to send him reeling. This conveniently let Schneider gain a clear shot at the assailant, and the laser beam ripped into the warrior's chest, which ruptured and sprayed blood, some of which landed on the face of the rainbow-maned pony who had turned to keep an eye on the male who had attacked her.

Wide-eyed, Rainbow Dash could only flit to the floor in shock after witnessing the death. “I'm going to have nightmares about this,” she muttered, as she wobbled on unsteady legs.

“The worst possible kind, too,” James grimly agreed, and then fired his pistol as another griffon rounded the corner. His shot missed, but fortunately a telekinetic grip suddenly encompassed the warrior and then yanked him back and around the corner, where a screech of shock was abruptly cut off with a sickening crunch. A few more audible events of this nature were heard, and then were replaced by silence. Soon enough, however, the sound of hooves moving about and spoken commands told the mercenaries who had prevailed, and thus they slowly edged back around the corner.

One pony turned to face them as they came back into view. “When I asked for help,” captain Starbuck said, from where he stood amidst several felled griffons, “I didn't think you'd be so flashy. Or so loud.”

“Part and parcel of the job, I'm afraid,” James replied, as he safed and lowered his pistol, and then looked over the various guardponies who were turning to attend their wounded. “I'm guessing you got pushed back?”

“Unfortunately,” Starbuck growled, and then shook his head. “I'd love to talk, but the enemy is already at Celestia's inner chambers. We need to relieve the guards there immediately.”

“Lead on, then,” James said, and then waited a moment as Starbuck and the guards under his command took a moment to organize before they ran off, leaving the commander to follow the larger group.

Schneider and Ivan, of course, were right behind the human leader, though much to his surprise James noticed Rainbow Dash keeping up in her usual flying position. “Go back, Dash,” James said, between huffing breaths. “It's only going to get worse.”

“No,” the pegasus replied, through gritted teeth. “The princess needs help, and I'm not going leave her to die.”

“Even after what you just saw?” Schneider piped in.

“Especially because of that,” Dash answered, her eyes narrowing even as tears started to form at their corners. “I won't let that happen to her, or to any of my friends. Not if I can help it.”

No one said anything to that, and so the humans and Rainbow continued following the guards. On they moved, passing through corridors stained with blood, and littered with limbs and bodies of both pony and griffon alike. Again the sounds of battle could be heard up ahead, and this time the entire group of soldiers slowed as they approached a final corner, careful not to rush into an ambush. Starbuck took a moment to silently signal the various guardsponies and had them arranged in a careful formation before they moved forward and then wheeled around the corner.

James, Schneider, and Ivan all followed right after the ponies, their pistols already up and ready for action. The scene they saw had plenty of it, as well, as Starbuck's reinforcements rammed into the rear echelons of the besieging griffons. They had gathered outside a pair of tall double doors that looked to be made of a white-painted fine hardwood, but were now battered and cracked from a broken decorative column being used by the enemy as a makeshift ram.

The griffons abandoned their assault as the reinforcing pony guards ripped into them, the earth ponies leading a short but nasty charge that resulted in many of the clannish warriors skewered on spears or trampled and crushed underhoof. The unicorns used their shield spells to corral and funnel the griffons on the ground towards the mass of death that were the earth ponies, while the pegasi simply cut down any griffon that attempted to escape into the air.

The mercenaries held their fire as the melee played out, concerned that their shots would accidentally harm friendly soldiers. Occasionally, though, a griffon would make it past the spears, shields, and even pegasi swords, and attempt to make a flank attack. Then it was a race between the three humans to see who could fire first; a race Schneider usually won, though Ivan's massive Sternsnacht spoke at least once more, again causing horrific damage.

Soon enough, the battle ended as the last griffon fell, the entirety of the attack force standing to the end rather than surrender. Several more ponies were down, dead or wounded, but for the most part the relief force had accomplished its job with relatively little loss of life. Relatively, James repeated, his mind already coolly analyzing the fights he had witnessed, now that the novelty had worn a bit. Mental note: don't get in melee range with anything on this planet, he thought.

Starbuck's movements broke the human out of his rumination, as the captain of the pegasus guards moved up to the battered doors. “This is captain Starbuck!” He called. “Relief is here, open up!”

“We can't, captain!” A voice answered from the other side. “We blocked the doors so much that the stuff all jammed up when the griffons started battering it.”

“Confound it,” Starbuck muttered, and then looked around. When he saw the humans, he lifted off and flew over the body covered floor. “I don't suppose you have something to get through that?” He asked, gesturing back with a hoof as he spoke.

James shook his head as his two subordinates turned to watch the hall they had come down. “We did, but miss Sparkle is escorting her brother to our camp for medical treatment,” he said, and then glanced to where Schneider was standing. “Hermes has a satchel of explosives, but it would be like trying to swat a fly with a 'mech's hand: massive overkill and likely to wreck things you generally don't want to wreck.”

“Hailbait,” Starbuck muttered. “Alright, this shouldn't be too bad. We've got the halls secured, and the doors won't open easily, so the princess should be safe.”

The sound of breaking glass, followed by a bellowing roar, came from the princess' quarters just then. “They're coming through the windows!” A voice from inside shouted.

“Manticore! Tamed manti-!” Another voice spoke, and then was cut off with a wet noise and another roar.

“Oh come on!” Starbuck yelled, even as he turned to regard his relief unit. “BLAST OPEN THOSE DOORS NOW!” He shouted to the unicorns, while pointing to the doors of the princess' suite. To a pony, the unicorns spun and charged their horns for a brief moment, before they let loose a volley of energy that disrupted and blasted the bared entrance.

Scarcely had the dust settled when a huge figure burst through the tattered remains of the door and its barricade. A quadruped, it stood twice as tall as any pony, had a fierce red mane wrapped around its neck, and a mouth full of dagger-like teeth that it easily bared as it roared. On its back rode a griffon warrior, who held in his foreclaws a pair of reins that directed the beast via a light muzzle that left the manticore's mouth free to bite and roar.

And roar it did, as the rider urged it forward. Starbuck's earth pony guards tried to form a defensive line, but the manticore swung a massive paw and bashed half the ponies aside, their armor the only thing saving them from immediate evisceration.

The remaining earth ponies attempted to charge, but the manticore's rider guided it to turn, whereupon the beast's massive tail swung out and slammed the remaining ponies aside. Several unicorns attempted to restrain the creature with their magic, and pegasi moved in to inflict wounds, but a quick barrage of arrows arced over the manticore from within Celestia's chamber. Few in number, and blindly aimed, the projectiles nevertheless felled several guards, both unicorn and pegasus alike, and forced the others to back away from the attacking mount.

Once again, however, the humans stepped into the fray. Ivan and Schneider, both having spun about at the noise, raised up their weapons and joined with McKenna as he fired his pistol. Again, the commander's shot went wide from its intended mark of the riding griffon's head, but Schneider made up for it by sending a beam of coherent light to burn and blast a cavity in the rider's flank. This distracted the griffon, and he dropped the reins long enough for the manticore to let loose its instincts. The huge beast lunged forward and trapped one of the knocked over earth ponies beneath its forepaws, and then bent down with its maw gaping wide.

It was then that Ivan, having taken his time to aim, fired. The slug of his hand cannon blasted through the beast's head just as it was about to finish its descent over the struggling earth pony, and even the manticore's sturdy skull could not withstand the heavy bullet, shattered. The dead manticore fell to the floor at that, and thanks to its demise Starbuck's guards could charge forward, unicorns leading the way for once as they turned their shield spells on full to ward off any further arrows. The sound of more roars could be heard from inside the room, and so James sprinted for the opened doors, with Schneider, Ivan, and Dash close behind.

The scene that met them as they arrived was chaotic, even more so than the two melees in the halls. Griffons seemed to be everywhere, but were confused and disoriented at the sudden appearance of more guardsponies, who were doing their best to force the enemy back. Unfortunately, another manticore and its rider was in the room as well, and it stood between the ponies and a strange, translucent purple bubble in a corner of the room. This seemed to be the focus of not only the griffons, but the ponies as well, and so James quickly assessed the best way to clear a route to it. First things first, kill the monster, he thought, as he raised his pistol and then aimed for the manticore, as it swung a huge paw and batted a pegasus out of the air. As the beast lowered its foreleg, James fired, using a double-tap that sent two heavy slugs to bury themselves in the manticore's head.

The abrupt death and collapse of the creature startled the griffons, as did the noise from the human weapon. This provided a distraction, which Starbuck and his ponies used in full to press the raiding party back. A few choice shots from Schneider's laser pistol felled some of the more cognizant griffons, and soon the remaining enemies started to beat a hasty retreat for the broken windows they had entered the room through.

For what seemed like the first time in forever, a lull fell over the palace defenders. For their part, the humans looked over the room carefully for any hidden threats, but saw nothing out of the ordinary, save for the purple sphere.

This object drew James' attention, and when he looked over he was surprised to see it was a full shield spell, being held by a pair of unicorns who stood on a bed next to a large figure wrapped in bandages. A very large figure for a pony, James thought, as he relaxed and then lowered his weapon. He put such thoughts from his mind, however, as several wounded ponies, now bereft of an immediate objective, collapsed to the floor. “Ivan, Hermes,” the commander said, quietly.

“Got it, Jim,” Schneider replied, as he holstered his pistol. Ivan simply nodded and did likewise, and both of the mercenaries went to work with several of the more intact guardsponies in attending to the wounded.

“What about me?” A voice asked from the side, and James turned to see Rainbow Dash hovering at eye level. “I... Is there something I can do?” She asked, her voice halting, but still strong.

James thought for a moment, and then nodded to the cyan pegasus. “Help Ivan,” he said, his tone still quiet. “He's going to need it.”

Dash nodded, and then flitted over to land next to Ivan, who was already attending to the pegasus who had kept fighting after losing a wing. After a moment of conferring with the large human, the cyan mare began to flit through the room, checking the vitals of downed warriors – griffon and pony alike – and then picked up the few still alive to be moved over to where Ivan worked.

“Thank you,” a voice said, and James turned from the scene to see Starbuck hovering at eye level to the side, much as Rainbow Dash had been. “For all of your help.”

“It's what we're here for, after all,” McKenna said, with a brief, wan smile. It disappeared soon enough, however, and the commander took in a deep breath before he let it out. “But it's not over yet. O'Connell sent some air support for the griffons; there's four Lucifer-class fighters outside.” The roar of a fusion engine passing overhead, followed by the unmistakable rush and explosions of missiles and the trelling of heavy laser weapons punctuated the human's remarks, and made him wince in frustration.

Starbuck facehoofed at the noise, and then sighed. “Can this day get any worse?”

A manticore's roar came from outside the windows just then, and James heavily sighed. “For the love of all that is righteous and holy, please stop tempting God,” he exasperatedly asked of Starbuck.

Barely had he finished speaking when another yellow and red beast appeared at the windows, flying on wings that extended from his forelegs and sides. These it tucked in at the last second, which allowed it to just squeeze in through one of the large windows and land with a floor-shaking thud, and predictably let loose another roar as it advanced towards the closest beings it could see; Ivan, Dash, and the wounded pegasus.

Naturally, James brought up his pistol, and the guards in the room gathered themselves up to resume the fight. The manticore, however, was already moving and with only a short distance to traverse before it could tear into the beings its rider guided it towards.

Fortunately, Rainbow Dash was as fast as her name suggested, and the multi-hued streak of her mane flashed in the room as she flew up and raced to intercept the aggressor. Time seemed to slow for the mare as adrenaline pumped through her veins, and so it was easy enough for her to somersault in mid-air and deliver a fierce, upside-down buck to the manticore's muzzle.

The beast roared in pain and shock, and then reached up with a claw to swipe at the pegasus, but Dash had learned from her last encounter with such a creature, and so had already flown backwards and away from the manticore. This would have cleared the line of sight for the humans, but sadly the palace guards hadn't had the familiarization training and so didn't understand to keep lanes of fire open, which meant that James found himself frustrated for a shot as the pegasi regained the air.

Ivan has a clear shot, though, James thought, as he watched the big man get to his feet, and then aim the Sternsnacht, while the various guardsponies engaged the manticore. When he pulled the trigger, though, the gun didn't fire, and both he and James realized at the same time that the large man had forgotten to reload the pistol. The griffon riding the manticore seemed to notice this, or at least noticed the human with a firearm, and so guided the beast to turn and head towards the burly man. The manticore roared as its eyes alighted on the hapless human and the wounded ponies on the floor behind him, and the creature began to advance with jaw held open in anticipation, even as various guardsponies began to move in on it.

Ivan, though, was not about to remain idle and let himself or the wounded become a snack. As the manticore finished its roar, the tall man took in a deep breath, and then bellowed back. His roar was louder than any man, pony, or griffon could have imagined it could be, and even the manticore flinched slightly at the volume.

That flinch was all the hefty infantryman needed, as he jutted his left leg forward a step, pitched back his right arm, and then while still yelling, delivered a massive uppercut to the manticore's muzzle. The beast's jaws clacked shut with a noise that was audible throughout the room, and the predator staggered back several paces while it let out a whine of pain.

The burly man was not content with this, and he barely paused in his battle roar for breath before he charged forward, arms outstretched, and then rammed into the front of the manticore. The beast roared and tried to snap at him, but Ivan had already grappled onto the animal's mane and pressed himself up against its neck. Then, with shouted grunt, he large man began pushing the beast back, towards the window it had come through.

James blinked in amazement as he saw the huge beast shoved back. The manticore itself was quite surprised, and it turned its attention from offense to simply trying to gain purchase on the smooth stone floor with its clawed limbs, which caused no end of wincing from the tortured squeals of keratin against granite. The griffon rider of the manticore reared up and raised a spear as this happened, and aimed it with the intention of jamming it through Ivan's head, but a unicorn's telekinesis reached out and grappled with the warrior, attempting to pull the spear out of his grip.

The rest of the room, concerned that interfering would only make things worse, could only watch these two struggles unfold. “Ivan!” James shouted, as he moved to the side to get out from behind the various pegasi. “Just hold it still!”

“Nyet!” Ivan shouted back. “Might get loose! Too close to wounded!” He added, even as the bag legs of the manticore started to scrabble on the edge of the floor. At that, the large human glanced over to his commander and gave a hard look. “Keep ponies safe!” He shouted, and then turned back to give one more profound shove.

The back end of the manticore slipped off of the ledge, and the sudden loss of balance caused the beast to flail about, which only made it easier for Ivan to complete his relentless task and finish shoving the manticore off the building. However, Ivan himself remained clinging to the beast, and as it fell so too did the human, and both disappeared below the lip of the grand window.

“Ivan!” Three voices shouted at once, with one of them belonging to a blue pegasus who immediately flew towards one of the windows. She had to suddenly backpedal with her wings, however, when the griffon who'd been riding the manticore flew up from below, and then jabbed his spear towards her.

Rainbow Dash dodged to the side, but was a bit too slow as the spear tip grazed her flank. She yelped in pain and surprise, but managed to kick the weapon away from her and then prepared to rush forward to buck the new threat. She never got the chance, however, as a pegasus guard swooped in and decapitated the overextended griffon with a swing of his sword. The head flew up and forward, towards Dash, and out of reflex she extended both of her forelegs to try and ward off any incoming being. Instead, though, the lifeless had landed on top of her legs, and Rainbow stared into the cold eyes for a half second before she yelped again and then dropped the body part to the floor as she flapped backwards in shock.

Poor girl, James thought, before he moved over to the window after maneuvering around several guardsponies, who remained in a defensive posture. Carefully, he looked out at the sky first to make sure no other griffons were nearby, and then leaned over the edge just a bit to look for Ivan.

He was immediately struck with a strong sense of vertigo, as there was nothing below the lip of the window save the valley floor far, far below Canterlot. James pulled himself back in immediately, and then shook his head a bit to clear it. “Mother of God,” he muttered, and then closed his eyes for a few moments.

“Jim,” came the voice of Schneider, and McKenna opened his eyes again to see the younger man standing in front of him and changing the energy cell on his laser pistol. “I really hate to sound cold-blooded here,” Schneider continued, his voice low and respectful. “But we still have a job to do.”

James's lips pressed together at that, but he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, and then turned to look over the room. The guards had stood down a bit, though this time they were in a readied formation rather than collapsing outright. Once again, the wounded were being attended to, though now with a cautious, paranoid eye cast out every once in a while by those who worked on providing first aid.

In the midst of his visual assessment of the room, James made eye contact with captain Starbuck, who immediately dismissed the guardspony he was talking to and then flittered over. “I'm sorry about your friend,” he said, quietly.

“One of many losses this day,” James morosely replied, and then pointedly looked around the room again, his gaze lingering on the dead guards. He then looked over to where the purple sphere had been, and his eyes came to rest on the large figure still on the bed. “I presume that's your other princess?” He asked, with a gesture from his free hand.

“Celestia, aye,” Starbuck replied, after glancing over. “The room guards managed to get her bed into the corner before they were cut down,” he added, and then sighed, as his voice took on a deadened tone. “The two unicorns shielding her are the only two ponies who survived the onslaught.”

The ominous rumble of fusion engines and shriek of missiles punctuated the statement, and reminded the two officers that their task wasn't quite done. “Might be in vain, if those Lucifer pilots get told to level the palace,” James said. “My daughter will have gotten back to the camp by now, but it'll still be a time until she and Eddie are in the air. We're going to have to distract or even take out some of those fighters in the meantime.”

Starbuck looked at the human, his expression weary, but still hard. “If what you told us about such things is true, then there's not much we can do,” he said, carefully and in a quiet tone to avoid alarming the other ponies in the room. “We don't have weapons to disable them, and even if we did, none of us are fast enough to catch them.”

An idea popped into James head at that, and despite the situation, he smirked lightly.

* * * *

Explosions rocked the city, and Luna once again threw up a shield spell as a building near her was blasted by a wave of Long-Range Missiles. The only good news is that by staying in the Merchant Quarter, I hath kept the enemy blasting only empty shops and businesses, Luna thought, as she shook off the debris that landed on her shield, and then dismissed the spell. The bad news is that the enemy are most certainly out for mine blood, and will not stop until there is nothing left to shield me.

The princess of the night mourned briefly over the loss of her old armor, which had been torn apart when the Elements of Harmony blasted through all of its intricate defenses and then cleansed her soul of its dark taint. And with the world so safe now, I had not thought to have a new set made, Luna darkly thought, as she set off at a gallop through the streets, careful to provide fleeting glimpses for the airborne machines. She had hid too well after their initial runs, and so the fighters had resorted to firing into the city at random. Whether in hopes a lucky shot would fell her or simply to draw her out, Luna did not know, but she had resorted to playing a cat-and-mouse game with the powerful craft to keep the citizenry safe. Or as safe as they can be in the midst of a battle of this nature, the dark alicorn thought.

The roar of an approaching fighter broke Luna out of her thoughts, and she quickly glanced around to make sure she was in an area clear of civilians. She was, but unfortunately was in the midst of an open square as well, and the alicorn silently cursed her luck as she had come to know what that meant. Well, let them come, she thought, as she turned to face the sound and threw up a shield, and then concentrated in putting as much energy into it as she could.

The same pattern of missiles and lasers slammed into her again, and Luna gasped from the shock of trying to hold back the terrible barrages. Fortunately, being on the ground meant she did not need to split her energy up into defense and flying, and her shield was able to redirect some of the thermal and kinetic energy into the ground, rather than forcing the princess to deal with it directly. Still, it doth sting like nopony's business, Luna thought, as the two fighters finished their run and then flew off.

Scarcely had the noise dimmed when the sound of a nearby battle erupted, and Luna sighed as she dropped her shield and began to run towards the commotion. Leaving the square, she turned a corner at an intersection and found a trio of earth pony guards battling six griffons, while a unicorn guard provided a shield that protected a small family of civilians who seemed to have been caught in the open.

Luna didn't even think as she sent out a blast of destructive energy from her horn, which vaporized one of the griffons as it was attempting to fly over the ground-bound ponies. This naturally distracted several of the combatants, though the guardsponies remained more focused, and so killed another two griffons during the skirmish.

The remaining three griffons, seeing the odds so roughly turned against them, took to the air and attempted to escape. Luna reached out and grabbed one with her telekinesis, and quickly snapped his neck before she let the body fall to the street. The other two were too distant and moving too fast for her to concentrate on, and so she turned to regard the ponies whose aid she had come to. “Why art thou still here?” She demanded, her voice strong. “This quarter was to hath been evacuated by now.”

“Apologies, highness,” the senior guard – an earth pony with a rank insignia on his helm – replied. “But the invaders' air machines have disrupted our normal messenger chain by taking shots at our pegasi when they are not randomly bombarding the city. We only just recently got word that this family had been trapped without escort.”

Thou means, when they are not attacking me, Luna thought, but refrained from speaking aloud. The guard may not know that, but I do. “Very well,” she said, and then nodded. “Move them out, and quickly! The enemy strikes fast and cares not for the lives of their own.”

“Yes, princess!” The senior guard replied, and then turned to wave his stallions and the family forward. The whole group broke into a ragged gallop, and then disappeared around the corner of the intersection Luna had just come through.

The rumble of the enemy aircraft returned then, and Luna sighed in frustration as she turned and dodged in between a pair of buildings. Missiles blasted into the street she had just vacated, and the princess threw up a shield automatically in case any debris was blown in her direction. When the trelling of lasers and a second wave of attacks didn't come, Luna dropped the shield and then trotted back into the street. A ragged series of craters in the pavement marked where the score of missiles had impacted, and the alicorn felt irked. They hath just repaired this street after the Changeling fiasco! Now it is a mess once again, she thought, and then turned to run down the long avenue. I cannot continue like this. Simply garnering their attention and distracting them is not defeating them, yet I cannot gain a hold on their craft for they move too fast to concentrate on, nor can I fire a destructive bolt whilst shielding myself. It seems we are at an impasse.

* * * *

“Are you sure you're up to this?”

Rainbow Dash frowned at the question and its poser, and then puffed out her chest a bit. “Hey, I'm the fastest flier in Equestria,” she said, with her usual bravado. “I can do this!”

“That's not quite what I asked,” James asked, as he knelt down in front of the pony to bring himself to her eye level. “I know you can handle it physically, otherwise I wouldn't have bothered suggesting the plan. What I want to know, Rainbow, is if you can handle this emotionally?”

The bravado in her eyes dimmed at that, and Rainbow Dash let the look of confidence slip off her face. “I...” She began, and then paused to look around the room.

They were not in the princess' rooms as before. Now that Celestia was safe and most of the griffons cleared from the palace, James, Schneider, Dash, and Starbuck had left the suite and moved to one of the decorative turrets adorning the side of the north wing that faced Canterlot proper. Here there were no stains of blood or bodies of the slain, but Dash still had to suppress a shudder as the human's question brought back those uncomfortable memories. Do I really want to see anything like that again? She asked herself, as the battles just past replayed in her mind, the details still vivid and fresh. So many dead, wounded, crippled... Do I really want to see more? Worse, to cause it to happen to someone else, even if they are an enemy?

A rumble interrupted her ruminating, and Dash turned to look through the opened window she stood next to, and looked out over Canterlot. Figures of griffons and ponies still flittered through the air, taking shots at each other with arrows or clashing with swords and spears. Parts of the city burned, sending clouds of smoke rising into the sky, and as she watched this was added to as one of the Desperadoes' Lucifer aerospace fighters made a random attack, raining missiles and laser fire into the city before pulling up and away again.

Something in Rainbow triggered at that, and the pegasus felt her trepidation melt away, to be replaced by determination. This needs to stop, and if I can help stop it... She turned back to McKenna and gave him a steady look, one free of bravado, but full of steel. “I will do it,” she said, evenly. “Because there's nopony else who can.”

Again, James found himself smiling in spite of the situation, and he couldn't help but reach out and pat a hand on Rainbow's shoulder. “You'd make a damn good soldier, Rainbow Dash,” he said, and then stood up.

“Now remember,” Schneider interjected, somewhat nervously as he still was unsure of the situation. “You need to attach the satchel to either to the underside of the nose, or to the top of the canopy. Either location will destroy the cockpit and take the fighter out.”

And the pilot, Dash thought. “I... I understand,” she quietly replied.

“We know you do,” Starbuck comfortingly added, from the side, and again Dash turned her head, this time to take in the pegasus captain, his armor and blue coat stained with blood. “You just take care of yourself, as well.”

“I will,” Dash replied, and then turned her body around to face the window. She paused for a moment, and then took in a deep breath before she flapped her wings open, and then blasted out of the room.

The three males watched her rainbow contrail streak through the sky, and then angle down for the city. “Godspeed, little pony,” James said, quietly. “May He watch over you.”

* * * *

“Get, out, of, my, city!” Luna yelled, as she gripped two griffons by their necks with her magic, and then hurled them into the sky. Their pained squawks diminished into the distance, and were soon overtaken by the all too familiar rumble of incoming aerospace fighters. This grows tiresome, the princess thought, as she cast another shield spell, and then anchored herself to the street she stood in. The wave of missiles and laser fire was almost routine now, though it still hurt and annoyed the alicorn. And it drains my power, Luna added, as the second wave of attacks from this pair of fighters washed over her shields. I do not know how many more attacks I can withstand. Yet, what am I to do? I cannot reach them mentally, and though I might be able to intercept one I could not do much against its armor, if what McKenna has told us is true. Luna grunted as she let the shield drop and then looked around the deserted street. How can they build strands of diamond into armor like that, anyway?

“Princess Luna!” A distant voice shouted for her, and Luna stood for a moment and blinked before she recognized it. She turned her head towards the south, and saw a rainbow-hued streak coursing through the air towards where she stood, where it stopped practically on a dime and resolved into the shape of a cyan mare with a khaki satchel hanging from her neck.

“Rainbow Dash,” Luna spoke, as soon as the pegasus had landed on the street. “Why art thou here? The battle yet rages and I cannot spare time to watch over thee.”

“I know,” Dash replied, and then reached up with a foreleg to tap the satchel she carried around her neck. “But commander McKenna had an idea to take out at least one of those fighters, and I'm going to need your help to distract them long enough so I can do it.”

The alicorn blinked in surprise. “Rainbow, thou cannot mean to join the battle?” Luna asked, shocked. “'Tis no place for untrained ponies!”

Rainbow's brow furrowed at that, and she felt a fire kindle in her chest. “Hey, I may not be a guard, but I am more than trained enough to catch up to one of those metal slugs,” the pegasus hotly retorted, forgetting Luna's position as princess. “And I'm not going to sit on my flank and watch them tear apart the city if I can help it!”

Luna almost took a step back at the vehemence in Dash's voice. I had hoped it would not come to this, the princess thought, with a mental sigh. Bad enough that the Guard fights and dies this day, but at least their dedication to duty was born of careful thought, not thrust upon them in the heat of battle.

Yet dedication it is, and who am I to deny it? Luna took in a deep breath at that, and then let it out slowly. “Very well, Dash,” she said, evenly. “What dost thou need from me?”

Rainbow's face lightened at that. “Like I said, I need you to do something flashy to distract them, really get their attention so they won't notice me catching up to one.”

Luna thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Methinks I know just the thing.”

* * * *

“How many runs are we going to do?” Valkyrie Six asked, via the channel used between him and his element leader.

That person, Remus Ustinov, stifled a groan as he aligned his Lucifer to make another pass at the city and their target within. “As long as it takes, Matt,” the elder pilot replied, as he followed the cues on his HUD to bring the 65-ton fighter's nose into alignment with Canterlot. “Now shut up and get ready to go in again.”

To his credit, Hill remained quiet and angled his own fighter in the standard trailing position for a ground attack run. At least the kid knows when the shut up, Ustinov thought, as he scanned the HUD for his prey. And at least this so-called “princess” is smart enough not to stand still in front of her enemies and trade shots like it's the goddamned Eighteenth Century, he mused, as he scanned the ground.

Looks like she's hiding again, he thought as the distance rapidly closed. Oh well, time to spray and pray. He flipped a few HOTAS controls at that, and then sent a scattered barrage of LRMs into the city to explode wherever they happened to land.

The missiles had barely left their launch tubes when his target appeared, suddenly rising from the city moving almost straight up. Time seemed to slow for Ustinov as he watched the dark blue creature shoot up, a foreleg held in front of her, a small wreath of glowing energy gathered around the hoof. Then his fighter was passing over the city, over the princess, just as she reached the apex of her flight and connected the glowing hoof with the underside of the nose of the fighter.

The contact was brief, but loud, as the impact shook the Lucifer and sent it spiraling out of control. Ustinov felt his kidneys hurt as his adrenal glands went into overtime, and he struggled to regain control.

Because of this attack, neither he nor his wingmate saw a rainbow contrail departing the city.

* * * *

Rainbow Dash soared through the air, pumping her wings like mad as she raced to catch up with the enemy fighter. C'mon, c'mon, she chided herself, as she pushed even harder against the air resistance and the turbulence of the aircraft's wake. Her target was just ahead of her by a few dozen meters, and she was closing in at an oblique angle to avoid being fried by the exhaust of the Lucifer's fusion engine. The heat had been nearly unbearable for the last few seconds, yet the pegasus pony pushed herself past such concerns, and continued to close in despite the very real threat to her person.

Just... a little... more... Rainbow mentally prodded, straining her muscles to work harder and faster. The enemy fighter was turning now, its thrust starting to point in her direction as its pilot sought to rejoin his battered and shaken comrade. I'm not going to make it, Rainbow thought, as she saw the brilliant white flame start to take up more and more of her vision, and felt the heat increase beyond discomfort and moved to outright pain. Prudence demanded she back off, try again some other way, but her pride, her determination, and her loyalty drove her on. I am not going to let anyone down, not now, not ever, she thought, and then added on an extra burst of speed.

Dash could feel the sound barrier starting to push back at her hooves as she finally pulled up to and just above the Lucifer, and then abruptly pitched down to slam into the armored back of the 65-ton spacecraft. The mare felt her legs ache with the impact, but she focused her thoughts past the pain and angled her wings so that they produced a down thrust that kept her standing on the fighter instead of being blown away by the slipstream while she bid the magic in her hooves to grasp against the composite armor.

She paused for a moment to look around, and Dash felt her mind boggle a bit as the enormity of the situation hit her. What the Hell am I doing? She asked herself, using the human curse word as it felt more appropriate to the situation. Any further introspection was cut off, however, as the Lucifer started to pitch violently, and Rainbow Dash had to bend her knees as the fighter started into a backwards loop. Soon enough, however, the loop halted, and the craft started an aileron roll as it continued straight up.

Hailbait, he knows I'm here, Dash realized, as she huddled as close to the fighter's hull as she could, while still using her wings as spoilers to hold her in place. She looked up now, towards the nose of the fighter, and saw a helmeted head in the canopy looking back at her. He soon turned back around, but Rainbow knew he wouldn't forget about her anytime soon. Come on, move! She railed at herself, and then slowly started to climb up the fighter, the downdraft from her angled wings enough to keep her hooves pinned to the metal.

The fighter pitched forward suddenly, just as Rainbow started to cross the “neck” that connected the main body of the Lucifer with the cockpit/nose assembly. Inverted loop, Dash realized, as she felt the centrifugal force start to pull her away from the craft. Clever, but not good enough. At that, she started to flap her wings to counter the inverted G-forces, and then continued moving up the craft, one steady, clutching hoofstep at a time.

Finally, she was at the cockpit, and had to pause in order to keep herself pressed to the fighter as the pilot pulled out of the loop and then started a series of sharp horizontal turns, each more frantic than the last. Despite this, Dash managed to bend her head down so she could clamp her teeth over the strap of the explosives satchel she carried around her neck, and then pulled it up so she could work at it with her forelegs.

Time for the hard part, Rainbow thought, as she had to let go of the fighter with a leg in order to manipulate the satchel, and more importantly the strip of adhesive built into its side. Like all ponies, Rainbow Dash had a bit of magic inherent in her hooves, which allowed a limited gripping function, albeit one inferior to human fingers. Still, it was enough for her to pull off the strip of backing that protected the adhesive, and then move her head to slam the now-sticky side of the explosive pack into the back of the ferroglass canopy.

The thump seemed to startle the human inside, as the fighter jerked a bit, before it settled into a level flight path, which let the pilot turn again to look back. The movement caught Dash's gaze, and she turned her own head to look into the cockpit, only to see that the person inside had raised the mirrored visor on his helmet. Rose eyes met brown, and the two antagonists froze in place as they stared at each other.

Sweet heavens, what am I doing? Rainbow Dash thought, as she felt her eyes start to tear up from more than the wind whipping against her face. I... I can't kill someone. Not like this, not like some cold-blooded monster that just walks up and kills a helpless pony in a trap, she mentally railed, remembering what commander McKenna had told her about the Lucifer's lack of an ejection seat.

A sudden roar filled her ears, and Dash broke eye contact to look to the left. Somehow, during the aerobatics meant to throw her off, the fighter had looped back around, and was passing Canterlot again, just as one of the pilot's comrades was making another blind run, firing missiles and lasers at random into the city.

Helpless ponies, a part of Rainbow reminded her, and she felt her uncertainty and fear drain away, to be replaced by anger and determination. She turned her head back to the pilot and then narrowed her eyes in an expression of cold fury.

The human turned away when he saw that, and Dash felt the fighter buck around again as he tried to throw her off. The pegasus mare was not to be dissuaded, however, and she bent her head down again, her flexibility allowing her to grasp a cylinder that hung from a small chain around her neck in her mouth. Rainbow wrenched her head up, breaking the chain, and then moved forward just enough so she could press the arming switch into the appropriate receptacle on the side of the explosive satchel.

Dash pulled her head back as soon as the device was armed, and she waited a moment for three green lights on the satchel to light up, indicating that the pentaglycerine was fully energized and ready to explode. Upon seeing this, Rainbow did as she had been instructed, and carefully reached up with a foreleg to lightly press the arming switch in, and then twist it to the right until it stopped moving. With that accomplished, she released her grip on the fighter and flapped her wings hard to clear the Lucifer's fusion exhaust as the slipstream pulled her away.

Rainbow Dash was a good few hundred meters distant when the explosives went off. The highly-focused blast, a trademark of pentaglycerine, annihilated the cockpit in a flash of chemical fury. It also set off the remaining ammunition for the nose-mounted LRM launcher, which resulted in the entire front of the fighter disappearing in a ball of flame, light, and noise that made the cyan pegasus wince as she transitioned to a hover. Dash opened her eyes and watched with a mixture of despaired emptiness and grim satisfaction as the remainder of the craft pitched down and fell to the ground hundreds of meters below, where it crashed in an empty field.

So... this is what it feels like, Rainbow darkly mused, as she frowned at the burning wreckage below. Before she could ruminate further, however, a rumble filled the air, and she turned her head to see one of the surviving Lucifers turning to aim for her.

“Horseapples,” she said, and then promptly turned and tore a hole in the air as she raced back towards Canterlot.

* * * *

Remus Ustinov was in a foul mood as he guided his fighter in its turn towards the multi-hued pegasus that had just killed his wingmate. Killed him like a pig in the poke, he thought, uncaring of the nature of his own handiwork this day. Now Ustinov wanted revenge, and his face contorted in a grimace as he slowly brought the targeting reticule of his large lasers to rest over the fleeing pony. Time to say goodnight, horse, he thought as the range closed.

The sudden, loud alarm of a target lock on his craft interrupted Ustinov's concentration, and he automatically jinked his fighter up and to the right to try and break the lock. It was partially successful, as he saw the angry red spears of laser beam-trails cut through the air below his Lucifer, though the wrenching impact of two scores of LRMs on his fighter's rear armor shook him up.

What the Hell? He thought, as he threw the fighter into another turn and checked his threat indicator. Ustinov's eyes widened as the battle computer reported what had fired on him, and he hastily triggered his radio. “Valkyrie Three! Stukas incoming!”

* * * *

Melissa McKenna grinned as she felt the waste heat bleed out of her cockpit at a phenomenal rate. God, I love these new F12 models F.I. makes, she thought, as she maneuvered her fighter to regain her target lock. “We got his attention now, Two,” she said to her wingmate, via the radio. “He's off Dash, so let's nail his ass to the wall.”

“Copy that, One,” Rodriguez replied, as he moved to follow his leader. “Taking the kid gloves off.”

Easier said than done, Melissa thought, as she had to wrench her Stuka into a hard left turn to follow the enemy fighter. This guy's not too bad, the youngest McKenna admitted to herself. But he made the wrong choice going after my little pony, her mind added, unconsciously. Instead, the focus of her consciousness went straight into her HUD and her targeting systems, and soon both reported a hard lock on the fleeing fighter. “Eat shit and die,” Melissa snarled, as she pressed the triggers for her long-ranged weapons.

The Artemis-slaved LRM launcher mounted above and behind her cockpit fired first, sending a score of missiles racing out towards the enemy fighter. Unlike the older systems aboard the Desperadoes' Lucifers, the Artemis IV Fire-Control System guided more missiles on target, and so almost the entire cloud of LRMs blasted into the back and wings of the obsolete fighter, tearing apart armor in a string of explosions that only became worse when Rodriguez's LRMs hit a split-second later.

The coup de grace, however, came from the four extended-range large lasers mounted in the wings of each Stuka. Unlike their previous attack, both Dark Horse pilots had taken the extra few seconds to gain a solid bead, and all eight of the coruscating beams landed on target, burning away the last of the enemy's armor in a split second, and then exposing and demolishing the fusion engines buried within the fighter's main body. Of course, to anyone else who watched with unaided eyes, all they saw were the furious lasers hitting the Lucifer, which exploded almost instantly with a ground-shaking thunderclap, as the magnetic bottle disintegrated and released the miniature star that was the heart of modern fusion reactors.

Melissa blinked her eyes, as the brilliance of a fusion reactor going critical was enough to mar her vision even through her helmet's protective visor, though thankfully the affliction was brief. “That yours or mine?” The young McKenna asked, as she maneuvered her 100-ton fighter in a climbing turn and searched her HUD's readout for the location of the remaining two Lucifers.

“How 'bout we flip a coin later?” Rodriguez suggested, as he maintained his position trailing Melissa's left wing. “Right now I'm thinkin' it's time to barbeque some Lyran cannon fodder rejects.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Melissa replied, with an evil grin, as she reversed her turn and angled her fighter towards the two remaining enemy contacts on her HUD.

* * * *

Captain Starbuck winced, as having seen two explosions in a short space of time wore on his retinas. “Sweet Celestia,” he muttered, as he looked back into the sky and watched the two black-painted shapes of the Dark Horse's fighters curve through the air above Canterlot, their deeper, even more menacing engines shaking the palace's roof.

“When in doubt, use a bigger gun,” James snarked, as he, Schneider, and the captain watched the Stukas pull a turn near the top of Canterlot's mountain and then descend towards the remaining Lucifers. The latter fighters had taken precious time to form up into a proper formation for air-to-air, and now were suffering for it as the heavier fighters gained a chase position.

Lasers flashed from the sterns of the two medium fighters as their pilots fired the defensive weapons. Against the light fightercraft that normally would be able to maneuver into a chase position, such weapons were a strong deterrent. But the vastly improved armor of the STU-F12 shrugged off the medium-class lasers as if they were no more troublesome than insects.

The return fire was much more vicious, as the two Stukas closed the range and unleashed their full, forward-facing arsenal. Built as they were to attack DropShips, and even super-massive WarShips, the two 100-ton fighters unleashed a furious maelstrom of lasers, missiles, and even more lasers upon the enemy. Streams of light and clouds of missiles descended on the enemy, and hammered them mercilessly.

Despite the tremendous beating, the two Lucifers remained airborne, though the attack finally broke their pilots' resolve; both of the 65-ton ships nosed down, dove for the cover of the ground, and simultaneously pushed their engines to full, the sudden burst of power sending a pair of thunderclaps through the valley.

The radio clipped to James' belt chose that moment to emit a burst of static, and then a voice. “This is Black Eagle One to Dark Horse Actual, shall we pursue?” Melissa asked, using both her and her father's callsigns.

James smirked faintly as he plucked the radio and then brought it up to his face. “Negative, Black Eagle,” he replied, evenly. “BARCAP Canterlot, and keep the airspace clear. If you see anything flying towards us that ain't a pony, send it to Hell.”

“I might take offense to that,” another voice sounded, on the same channel, which startled the elder McKenna.

“Sweet mother of God, Mei,” James growled, while next to him Schneider and Starbuck exchanged smirks. “You really are trying to give me a heart attack, aren't you?”

“Did it work?” The Heart of Steel's captain asked, in an innocent voice. She didn't wait for a reply, however, and her tone immediately changed to a businesslike manner. “In all seriousness, Jim, your wife insisted that the Blackfoot be sent to help secure the city, and I'm the only one who's bothered to keep up on their VTOL certs. The Ferret's chugging, but I've got the whole group here, minus Ivan, of course.”

James grimaced at that, and then sighed, careful to keep his finger off the transmit button as he did. “Understood, stand by,” he replied, and then turned to look over at Starbuck. “Captain?”

“The palace,” the pegasus immediately replied. “I don't like how close they got to Celestia. Have your armored troops help secure the palace and I can cut some platoons loose to finish clearing the city.”

The commander nodded at that, and then triggered his radio. “Come to the royal palace, Mei, north wing. You won't need directions, it looks just like you think it would. We're on the roof.”

“Roger that, Dark Horse Actual,” Nguyen replied. “ETA three minutes.”

“Copy three minutes,” James said, and then waited a moment to give Nguyen time to correct any misunderstanding. No correction came, though, so he triggered the radio again. “Over and out.”

“Out,” Nguyen replied, and then cut herself out of the channel.

Schneider let out a breath at that. “Well, it'll be nice to have some backup,” he observed. “Not that it hasn't been an illuminating experience watching your soldiers work, captain,” he added, as he looked to Starbuck. “I must admit I underestimated you ponies.”

“So did the griffons,” Starbuck added, and then turned to look out over the city beyond the palace. “Still, they got the drop on us, and I want to know how.”

The trio fell silent just then, as a loud, long screech echoed across Canterlot. It was added to and echoed by others, and it lasted for a good several seconds before it abruptly cut off. Before anyone could question it, the sky above the city started to fill with warm bodies, as every surviving griffon in the city took to the air, and then turned to fly towards the palace.

“Looks like a Hail Mary,” Schneider observed, and then checked the charge reading on his laser pistol's power pack.

“With a vengeance,” James agreed, as he changed his nearly empty magazine for a full one. “Let's get back inside,” he added, and then turned to run for the roof access door they'd come through.

Schneider and Starbuck followed, the latter taking to the air and backpedaling with his wings so he could keep the griffons in his vision. “Heavens above, preserve and protect us,” he muttered, as he watched the enemy rapidly close in. “Here they come,” he added, much louder this time to make sure the two humans heard him.

James had just reached the door when Starbuck called to him, and he spun around in time to see a wave of griffons cresting the edge of the roof. Several broke off when they saw the humans and pony guard, and they charged, screeching loudly.

Surprisingly, the screech was met by a fierce roar that came from behind the three military males. Scarcely had it finished when a large shape flew over them and then bowled into the advancing griffons, knocking them down to the rooftop before it landed amongst them. James recognized it as a manticore at about the same time the griffons did, and the latter wore looks of fear and shock upon their faces as the beast started to tear into them.

And, riding upon its back, was a very large human carrying a ridiculously large pistol. “Mister Nibbles doesn't like you!” Ivan shouted, and then discharged his Sternsnacht towards one of the now many griffons who were aiming to join the fight on the rooftop. The thunderous noise was loud even in the open air, which itself served as a weapon against the griffons, two of whom were run through by the heavy bullet.

McKenna, Schneider, and Starbuck watched in dumbfounded shock for a moment before they remembered who and where they were. Then the two humans quickly added their pistols to the fight, and Starbuck flew up and intercepted any griffon that turned its attention towards the humans firing into the furball. Unfortunately, the captain was only one pony, and despite his best efforts two griffons made it past him and charged towards the Dark Horse officers with drawn swords.

Schneider was lucky, as he managed a pointblank snapshot that ripped into the chest of the winged warrior, felling him only a foot before the harried human. James, though, was less fortunate, as his only shot went wide, and the griffon swung his blade down in an attempt to cleave the offending hand clean off.

One does not survive more than two decades of military service by being slow, however, and McKenna managed to snap his arm back in time to avoid the blade. What he couldn't avoid, though, was the charging mass of the griffon, who couldn't stop himself in time and thus slammed into the human shoulder-first, sending the two beings sprawling onto the rooftop, tom atop man.

They didn't stay that way for long, though, as both males began to recover. The griffon started to pull himself back onto his four feet, but James forwent such a move and instead brought his right arm around in a wide swing that brought the butt of his pistol crashing against the side of the tom's head. The griffon let out a shriek of pain, but managed to keep his wits about him, and managed to stabilize himself on three legs so he could claw at James' arm with a forelimb.

James couldn't help but let out a yell as the talons cut through the shirt and into his forearm, and his hand went limp as the muscles and tendons that controlled it were torn. His pistol clattered to the rooftop, and the commander barely had the time to gather his senses before the griffon warrior picked up his sword and brought it up, fully intending to plunge it into the human's chest.

A polychromatic blur slammed into the griffon's side before it could carry out its murderous intent, and the sheer violence of it sent the tom flying off of the human. “You stay away from him!” Rainbow Dash shouted, as she landed and took up a defensive posture between McKenna and the ejected griffon, her wings flared in a fierce display.

“Filthy horse!” The griffon shouted back, as he regained his footing and then hovered, clutching his sword in claw. “I'll run you... through...” He started to say, and then trailed off, as a new, yet familiar sound came from behind and above the mare and the human she was protecting. Both Dash and James risked a glance back at that, and the commander managed a faint smile through the pain.

The Ferret was hovering a good ten meters above the top of the north wing, and large, dark shapes were dropping off of its sides. As the fifth one departed the infantry bay, though, the helicopter rose a few meters, and then a small crack could be heard as a false panel over its nose was ejected via explosive bolts.

The minigun underneath was already spinning before the panel fell away, and Nguyen triggered the weapon as soon as it was clear. The air was filled with a terrible zipper-like roar, and a stream of bullets so thick that the tracers seemed to form a solid line reached out and sowed death amongst the griffons. James snapped his head around and propped himself on his good arm to watch as dozens of the flying foes were ripped to pieces by the Ferret's prodigious ammunition expenditure as Nguyen hosed the enemy with hot lead.

Several griffons, realizing that to be in the open meant death, charged forward. The moved past the waning melee around the manticore and headed straight for where James, Schneider, Dash and Starbuck were arrayed, clearly hoping to move in so close that the Ferret's pilot couldn't fire on them without killing those on her own side.

It was thus unfortunate for them that the Blackfoot arrived on the scene. The power-armored soldiers quickly moved to interpose themselves between the griffons and the unarmored beings, and then stood and aimed their weapons. Lasers flashed, machine guns stuttered, and a single gauss rifle cracked, sending waves of death to wash over the enemy.

This was the last straw for the griffons, and the survivors turned tail and began to fly away in every direction. Gunfire and lasers followed them as the Ferret and the armored troopers moved forward to keep up the pressure, the latter taking up positions around the edge of the roof.

Save one; the smallest of the armored figures – by dint of wearing the lightest armor – turned and moved back to the group of four near the door leading off of the roof. “Commander,” the woman inside the suit said, as she shifted her Thunderstroke gauss rifle to hang from her shoulder by its strap. “Looks like you need some help,” April Lewis added.

“A bit,” James managed to say through gritted teeth. “Keep your eyes open.”

“Always, sir,” the armored trooper replied, as she knelt by the elder human and took out a medkit.

* * * *

Princess Luna flew through the air, her wings beating rhythmically as she scanned over Canterlot. Below her the denizens of the city were coming out of their shelters, and despite the battle only having ended recently, were beginning the cleanup process. Anything to keep their minds off of what just occurred, I would wager, the dark alicorn thought, as she angled to head towards the Royal Palace, her escort of pegasus guards turning with her to stay in formation. Below she saw a cluster of armored guardsponies cantering through the streets to keep up with her, and Luna stifled a sigh. I withstood so much in the fight, and now they become paranoid about my safety, she mentally grumbled. Yet an attack force of griffons took us all by surprise. Methinks it is time to begin reorganizing the Guard, beginning with recalling Stonewall from Manehattan. I much doubt he would have been caught so unawares as colonel Backfire.

Luna felt some of her ire drain away at the memory of the former commander of the city guards. Whatever his faults, he at least was brave and died leading his troops, as a good officer should. I just wish it did not have to involve the deaths of so many citizens, as well. With the battle only having recently ended, the death toll was naturally still unclear, but the princess knew that dozens, if not hundreds had been killed from the random airstrikes alone. Add to that the many guards and citizens attacked by the maddened griffons, and I wonder just how high the cost will be?

The alicorn put the thought from her mind as she and her escort came upon the palace. She was not surprised to see the mercenaries' helicopter patrolling the air, as she had a grand view of it cutting down griffons as the tribal warriors fled the city, though she was surprised to see several large forms in the general shape of humans spread out over the roof of the north wing, along with a multitude of guards on and around the building that held Celestia's private quarters.

Realization hit Luna then, and she beat her wings faster to head for a knot of beings standing near one of the doors from which one could access the roof. Her keen eyes let her identify the key individuals even at a distance, and so the princess had a fair guess of who could answer her questions as she came in and gently settled to the roof. Where did that manticore come from, for instance, and why is that Ivan fellow petting it?

Luna again found herself putting her thoughts on hold as she walked towards where the humans stood or sat, conferring with captain Starbuck and several lieutenants in charge of various guards platoons. All paused in their conversation, and the ponies turned to bow to the princess. The humans did not bow themselves, though Luna ignored that as technically they weren't her subjects. Even so, she felt the same familiar concern when she saw that McKenna's arm was heavily bandaged, and frowned. “What happened here?” She asked, as she shifted her gaze from the human to Starbuck.

“The attack on the city was a diversion, your majesty,” Starbuck replied, after regaining a proper upright stance. “A second assault group hit the palace and attempted to assassinate princess Celestia in her quarters.”

Luna's eyes widened, and she wobbled a bit on her legs. “My sister?” She asked, worriedly.

Her fear vaporized a moment later as Starbuck replied. “Safe, your highness,” he began. “I managed to redirect some guards platoons to the north wing, and commander McKenna and his men lent their aide,” he added, and gestured towards McKenna and Schneider with a wave of his wing.

“I see,” the dark alicorn said, and then allowed herself a sigh of relief. “I thank thee, commander,” she added, as she turned to face the human. “Thou hast done Equestria and myself a great service.”

“Just doin' my job, ma'am,” James replied, his childhood accent leaking through due to the pain of his wound. His face darkened a bit, and he glanced around at the various ponies in the area. “All of us were.”

Luna mirrored his actions, and she saw what he meant, as most of the armored ponies bore some sort of wound or scar. Many had been bandaged and worked on, and Ivan and Rainbow Dash were attending to yet another wounded guard even as the alicorn looked over the area. “Aye,” Luna said, and then nodded and looked into the eyes of the various guardsponies. “The Guard hath once again proven that they are the bravest ponies in Equestria, and indeed the bravest beings in the world,” she said, her gaze steadily shifting around as she spoke. “Our foes hath learned that lesson this day, and they shall cower in fear knowing that the Guard is ready to stop their aggression, no matter the cost.”

The various ponies seemed to swell a bit at the praise, though most kept stoic looks on their faces. Luna nodded to them, and then returned her attention to Starbuck and McKenna. “Now gentlestal- er, beings,” she said, and then grinned sheepishly for a moment. “I think it would be wise if we-”

She didn't get to finish that sentence, as a green wisp of smoke wafted into her vision, and then suddenly was replaced by a scroll. Surprised, Luna let the item drop to the roof before she used her telekinesis to lift it up. Ugh, this feels more difficult than it should be, the alicorn thought, as she unrolled the unmarked scroll and began to read. I hath probably overexerted...

A moment of silence fell over the scene, as everyone waited for the princess to finish reading the missive. Many became worried when Luna's face turned stoney, and her wings tensed up at her sides. Finally, captain Starbuck cleared his throat. “Princess?” He asked, hoping that he was not being too forward.

His fear of committing a faux pas was soon replaced by another, as the dark alicorn lowered the scroll, and then cast an emotionless look in his direction. “It's from one of our watch posts near Manehattan,” she began. “They and the others were overrun by griffons and had to retreat.”

“Well, that explains the lack of notice,” Starbuck added, cautiously. “Is that all?”

Luna's expression changed from stoic to grim at that. “Nay,” she said, and then pressed her lips into a thin line for a moment. “They are coming.”

Chapter 15 - Breather

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Equestrian Airspace

Approaching Canterlot, Equstria

September 24th, AD 3070/1023 RC

I've fought a lot of creatures and beings in my day, general Stonewall thought, as he rode a sky chariot pulled by two unarmored pegasus ponies. Hydra, timberwolves, Diamond Dogs, even Changelings; but through all of that I never thought anything could truly hurt Canterlot.

Even from a distance he could see the columns of smoke rising above the city. Thankfully, they were thin and few, though the setting sun cast their long shadows over the city and the mountain whose side it perched on. The same long shadows also let him make out the various shapes of armored pegasus guards flying through the air in loose patrol patterns, and Stonewall could only press his lips together as even at this distance he could see the exhaustion in their movements.

Slowly his chariot approached the city, and soon enough the extent of the damage became clear. “Sweet heavens,” one of the pegasi pulling his chariot muttered. “What the hay happened here?”

The other pegasus gave his comrade a hard look, but it was Stonewall who spoke next. “Something that wouldn't have happened if it weren't for this damned war,” the red pony said, his tone grave. “Now hurry and get us to the palace, I have a feelin' we ain't done yet.”

The two pegasi heeded his words and put on more speed and turned to head for the palace. A flight of four guards approached them as they crossed over the city walls, but upon seeing the general the armored ponies only saluted and then went back to their patrol. Looks like the princess let them know I was returning, Stonewall thought, as he tried to keep his mind from mulling over the covered shapes being gathered just outside one of the city's main gates. Good of her, since she's the one who ordered me back.

To say he had been perturbed would have been an understatement, yet Stonewall found his attitude changing as the chariot tilted and headed down for the landing field next to the Royal Palace. The magnificent building had seen rough treatment in the form of broken windows and an occasional red stain, and the pony general could only bite his lip as he realized that the regal domicile had been a prime target of the griffin horde that he had seen leaving Manehattan. Dear heavens, what if... he dared not finish the thought, and Stonewall felt his urge to land and race towards the throne room doubled.

Such urges were soon suppressed, however, as the chariot team brought themselves and their charge to a landing at the fields the guards used for such matters, though it was not the landing that stilled the general's thoughts, but the odd shape of what he could only identify as a human-made machine. Long spars spread out from its top, and the front of it sported a weapon Stonewall recognized from his unfortunate experience in skirmishing against the Desperadoes. So, the reports are true, the red pony thought, as he turned to climb out of the chariot. Some of them actually want to help? Well, we'll see 'bout that. He snorted at the thought, and then walked around to face the chariot team. “Go ahead and unhitch yourselves,” he ordered. “And then head to the barracks and find out where y'all can help.”

“Yes sir,” both pegasi replied, while giving a salute with their right forelegs. They then turned and started to trot off towards one of the outbuildings that served as storage for chariots, though they made a wide detour around the human craft and the contingent of severe-looking guardsponies who stood watch over it. Stonewall himself gave the guards a long look, and he felt mixed emotions upon seeing the battered state of their armor, and various dressed wounds. They fought, and fought well, the red pony thought as he turned and walked for the entrance to the palace. Though it looks like it cost them, from all the bandages they wear.

“General,” a voice said behind him, and the red earth pony turned to see another battered guardspony, this one a pegasus. “I'm corporal Trade Wind, sir. Princess Luna sent me to escort you to the throne room.”

“Then let's get goin',” Stonewall replied, with a nod of his head. Trade Wind returned the gesture, and then turned to lead the elder pony off. As he turned, however, he revealed the bloodied, bandaged stump where a wing one sprouted, and the general couldn't help himself. “Dear heavens, doesn't that hurt?” He asked, incredulous.

Trade froze at that, and an expression of pain temporarily replaced the practiced, stoic mien of the royal guards. “More than you know, sir,” he said, reflexively unfolding his remaining left wing for a moment.

Stonewall winced at the suffering in the pegasus pony's voice, and he took a few steps forward to gently rest a forehoof on the corporal's shoulder. “I'm sorry, son,” he said, sotto voce. “That was terrible of me, I know.”

“It's alright, sir,” Trade Wind replied, as he turned his head towards the general and forced a wan smile onto his muzzle. “At least I can still walk and run,” he said, and then let the smile drop. “A lot of ponies can't say the same right now.”

A brief silence met those words as Stonewall grimly contemplated the full meaning behind them. Finally, he sighed, and then nodded. “Alright, let's not keep the princess waiting.”

* * * *

The damage to the palace was worse on the inside, Stonewall noted, as his guide took him through several passages scored by weapons and stained with blood and other bodily fluids. His time in the guards had steeled his nerves against such sights, but the fact that they were here in the figurative and literal heart of Equestria shook the general to his core. How could this have happened? Stonewall asked himself as he followed the wounded corporal. The Griffons haven't attacked us en mass for centuries, thanks to Celestia's watch. And now with Luna, they dared strike at our capitol? He didn't know which implication was worse: that the griffons were working so closely with the invaders that they were willing to mount the assault, or the fact that even with the minimal help provided the tribal warriors had nearly succeeded. And Luna is strong enough that Celestia couldn't stop her coup attempt a thousand years ago without using the Elements of Harmony. Are we really so soft that we need two immensely powerful alicorns just to keep from being turned into griffon food?

Stonewall turned from his darkening thoughts as Trade Wind finally brought him to the main entrance to the throne room. Two tired-looking unicorn guards were standing at attention on either side, though for a change neither were actually wounded. Still, their eyes were hard and bore down on the two ponies who approached them, despite knowing who they were. The general nodded to them as Trade Wind opened the door, and then stepped inside, prompting the red earth pony to follow.

“General,” a familiar voice said, and Stonewall automatically bowed towards the speaker.

“Princess Luna,” he said, and then stood back up when she gestured so with a hoof. “I came as ordered.”

“Good,” Luna replied, and then gestured with a wing towards the large table set up in the middle of the throne room. Upon it were maps and an odd device whose function was not immediately known to the general, though the presence of two humans around the table confirmed it had to be one of their machines. “We hath much to discuss and time grows short,” the night princess added, as Stonewall moved to take a spot at her side; the only empty space of any reasonable size along the table, as ponies and humans stood close in to its sides. “Some quick introductions first, however,” Luna added, and then nodded towards a human near the far end of the table, whose arm was bandaged and hung in a sling from his neck. “First off, commander James McKenna, of the Dark Horse mercenaries who have chosen to assist us in our fight against the invaders.” The human nodded, despite the slight wince the movement caused him. “Commander, this is general Stonewall, our most experienced military officer.”

“General,” the human uttered.

“Commander,” Stonewall replied, and then looked to his diarch. “You'll forgive me if I am blunt, your highness, but are you sure we can trust them?” He asked, his tone hard.

Several of the other ponies around the table blanched at that, while the two humans retained neutral expressions, save for McKenna, who briefly rolled his eyes. Princess Luna, however, simply regarded the red earth pony with a cool stare. “General, the griffons attempted to assassinate both myself and my sister earlier today,” she said, using an even tone. “If it weren't for the actions of captain Shining Armor and commander McKenna, they may very well hath succeeded.”

Stonewall blinked hard at the revelation, and then seemed to sway for a moment before he regained his self-control. “I see,” he said quietly, and then turned to nod at the human leader. “My apologies, sir, but until now the only time I have seen humans was on the other side of a battle.”

“Fair enough,” McKenna replied, slightly gruff but otherwise even in tone. “In any case, as her highness said, we are fast running out of time and I think planning our next moves should take precedence now.”

“Indeed,” Stonewall said, after a moment to consider the alien in a new light.

“I shall have captain Starbuck bring you up to speed,” Luna said, and then turned to give an even look to the pegasus.

Starbuck nodded to the princess, and then began to speak. “From what we've ascertained from the griffons' attack pattern and interrogation of prisoners, the strike was intended to soften up Canterlot for the approaching enemy ground forces,” the steel-blue stallion began, and then turned his head to look at a slim human. “Hermes, could you bring up the map for us, please?”

“Of course,” the human said, and then leaned down to tap at an odd control on the plotting table. A bare second passed before the larger human device hummed, and then a large, glowing, ethereal map popped into existence over the table's surface. Stonewall started a bit in surprise, but kept his peace as images popped up and were overlaid on the map: red lines for highways and roads, gray for railroads, and several squares of blue and red arrayed like one of the old campaign maps the general had studied when he was in the academy.

“The information from our repositioned scouts has given us a fair view of the Desperadoes' approach and intention,” Starbuck continued once the map was in place. “They have concentrated their mechanized forces and are making a direct route through the forest belts between Canterlot and Manehattan.” As he spoke, several large red squares marked with an “M” moved on the map and slowly started pushing through the dotted green representation of woodland. “The attack on Canterlot had a two-fold goal: eliminate the princesses, and disrupt our own forces long enough for the enemy to make their march on the capitol without harassment.

“Fortunately, timely assistance from McKenna's troops allowed us to break the attack up, though not without cost,” Starbuck added, and then paused to take a brief, calming breath. “Guard units in Canterlot sustained a forty-six percent casualty rate, two-fifths of which were mortalities.”

Stonewall winced at that, and he felt a hollow pit form in his stomach. “After losing so many on the first day...” he muttered, and then slowly shook his head.

“There is good news, general,” Starbuck said, and then waited for the red pony to return his attention back to the briefing. “The griffon attack was not entirely successful, and thanks to that we still have order in the city and most of our command structure intact. Our troops are being reinforced as we speak by trains coming in from Baltimare, Fillydelphia, Los Pegasus, Las Neighgas, and Appleloosa.

“In addition, those same trains are carrying evacuees to the outlying cities and towns along the rail network,” Starbuck added. “If the enemy reaches Canterlot, we will stand a better chance at holding the city and keeping civilian losses low.”

“'If' the enemy reaches Canterlot?” Stonewall asked, as he raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Son, I'm not one ta give up easily, but I ain't seen much that can stop them invaders when they set their minds to it.”

“That's where we come in,” McKenna spoke up, and then waited until he had everyone's attention before he turned to the lanky man at his side. “Hermes, bring up Plan Buford.”

“Yes sir,” Schneider replied, a faint smirk briefly playing over his lips. He tapped the controls a bit, and the glowing map changed again, this time showing several blue boxes marked with “M” move out, along with several arrays of blue dots.

“As you can see, there's a ridge of hills that stretch away from the feature your people call 'Foal Mountain' that the enemy will have to move across,” McKenna continued, as the various blue markers moved and interposed themselves between the red icons and Canterlot. “We plan to get there first, and then use the hills as a brief engagement zone to hold the enemy as long as we can, and then fall back to the...” The human squinted his eyes, and them grimaced as he read the lettering on the map. “'Glitterfalls River',” he said, with a sense of distaste about him. “We'll use that as another engagement zone, and then conduct a series of hit-and-run raids throughout the forest belt leading up to Canterlot. Hopefully, we'll do enough damage in those engagements and raids that we'll be able to whittle O'Connell's forces down to the point where he won't have enough to stage an assault against your capitol.”

Stonewall contemplated the plan for a few silent moments. “What do these icons mean?” He asked, waylaying his opinion as he sought more information.

“The larger squares marked with an 'M' stand for BattleMech companies,” Hermes replied. “The smaller ones denote lances. The dots represent infantry forces.”

The red earth pony shot a look at the lanky human, and then turned a hard eye to McKenna. “I take it you're gonna want some of our troops then?” He cautiously asked.

James bit his lip for a moment, and then nodded. “Yes,” he stated flatly. “Frankly, I really wouldn't want to, given how terrible standard infantry suffers on a modern battlefield. But no mechanized force is impervious or omnipotent. Infantry are always needed to do what machines cannot, and eleven hundred years of industrialized warfare hasn't changed that.

“The real problem is that for the large part, your soldiers haven't been fully trained in modern tactics, nor have the kind of equipment needed to give them a real edge in combat,” McKenna added. “We've started working on both of those issues, but unfortunately we just don't have the time for them to bear all the fruit they could.”

Stonewall raised an eyebrow at that. “But you do have something, right?” he asked.

“Something,” McKenna echoed, with a nod. “We've been giving some additional training to some of captain Starbuck's troops, and they've taken the lessons to heart. We've learned a few things about y'all as well, and I think we've got some force-multipliers that can help keep your boys alive and effective.”

“There's not a lot of my soldiers who've been trained by the Dark Horse,” Starbuck interjected. “Not enough to form a real unit, but we're bringing them here along with the rest of McKenna's forces to distribute them to other units. Hopefully, they'll be able to pass along enough knowledge to increase our effectiveness.”

“And we plan to give them enough time to do that,” McKenna added. “Hence the delaying tactics in our battle plan.”

A silence fell over the room as Stonewall again considered the plan. He sighed after a few moments of this, and then nodded. “Well, it ain't the worse plan I've seen,” he grumbled. “And I ain't got any better ideas.”

“Any plan, even a half-assed one, is better than no one at all,” the human named Hermes spoke up. “Neither us nor the Desperadoes came here prepared for a campaign drop, and we're doing the best we can with what we have.”

“And we're playing catch-up to thousands of years of technological advances and military thought,” Starbuck chimed in. Then, somewhat surprisingly to the general, he grinned. “Still, I feel better about it now that we're starting to pull things together.”

“Like what?” Stonewall evenly asked.

As if summoned, a rumble was heard in the distance, and McKenna just smiled. “Like that. C'mon,” he said, and then turned to walk away from the table. “I want y'all to meet my wife.”

* * * *

The rumbling grew louder as the group of ponies and humans worked their way through the palace corridors and subsequently left the grand building through the main entrance. There, the ponies stopped and stared in wonder and awe as a massive metal sphere riding on top of a pillar of blindingly-white flame slowly crawled across the sky, moving to the east even as it descended to the sound of a furious roar.

“'Tis a loud device,” Luna observed, raising her voice to near Royal Canterlot Voice levels to be heard.

“It's powered by a miniature star,” Hermes shouted back. “They tend to make a lot of noise.”

“What?” general Stonewall asked, with a shout. Either the human didn't hear him, or declined to answer, but either way the party stood still and watched the the sphere finally drop below the palace's walls, and then heard and even felt it as the spacecraft came to rest on the ground just outside the city. The noise abruptly cut off then, and every being present took a moment to let their ears recover.

Finally, though, Stonewall pressed for an answer to his question. “Did you say that runs on a small star?” he reiterated.

“Well, sort of,” Hermes replied, with a sheepish grin. “It's more poetic license, really, to call a fusion reactor a miniature star. But it does operate on the same principles the sun and stars do.”

“The sun isn't the same as a star,” Stonewall countered. “Anypony can see that just by looking up.”

The two men seemed put off by that, and they shared a brief, incredulous look before McKenna cleared his throat. “Hermes is right, general; the sun is a star, it's just the closest one to this planet. In fact, the world we're on revolves around the sun in a path we call an 'orbit'.”

“That's backwards,” a lieutenant, one of captain Armor's ponies, observed. “Princess Celestia raises and sets the sun by moving it around the world, and princess Luna does the same for the moon.”

Again, the humans seemed dumbfounded, though soon enough they both turned their gaze to the aforementioned dark alicorn. For her part, Luna was blushing, though the rest of her features were impassive and set as stone. “I believe there are more pressing questions facing Equestria at the moment than those of cosmology,” she flatly stated. “For now, let us go forth and see the forces thou hast promised to use in our defense.” With that, she started to walk off without even a glance to see if anyone followed.

Everyone did, of course, albeit in a staggered formation as every being reacted with different speed. It didn't take them long to resume their previous positions around the princess as she purposefully led them towards the main gate. “So...” captain Starbuck began, somewhat unsure of tone. “What is a 'fusion reactor' anyways?”

“It's a kind of engine,” Hermes replied. “It uses powerful magnetic fields to excite hydrogen atoms and then compress them so that they fuse to create heavier elements, and in the process release tremendous amounts of energy that we use to power our various vehicles and other devices.”

The steel blue pegasus simply stared at the human for a moment before he spoke again. “I don't think I understood half the words you used,” he said.

Hermes sighed and rolled his eyes. “Where's Twilight Sparkle when you need her?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Starbuck grunted back.

“Hush you two,” McKenna shot back at them as the party crossed the wooden drawbridge. “As her highness said, we've got... more pressing...” He let his voice trail off, as the group reached the city square on the other side of the moat, and then paused as they felt a familiar thumping in the distance. McKenna groaned, and then rubbed the hand of his uninjured arm across his face. “Oh God she didn't, did she?” he half-asked the air in front of him.

“What is that noise?” Luna asked, with a frown.

“It's one of their machines,” Stonewall replied, his tone low. “Sounds like it's coming this way and moving fast.” He looked up and gave McKenna a harsh look. “Any particular reason why?”

“Because my wife has a temper quicker than lightning and hotter than a supernova,” James McKenna replied, as the ground started to shake. “Just... stay here and let me handle this,” he said, and then walked towards the middle of the city square, which was fortunately emptying as the citizenry of Canterlot realized that the approaching noise was nothing to trifle with.

Their foresight was appropriate, as a few tense moments later a massive war machine with a barrel chest and cylinders for arms rounded a corner and tromped forward at a startling pace towards where McKenna had stopped. The ponies in the entourage around Luna all blanched in shock, and even the dark alicorn herself widened her eyes at seeing the building-sized machine stride forward with purpose. They call it science, Luna thought, but it appears as magic to me.

Her thoughts ceased as the vehicle came ever closer to the human commander, and even Luna cringed a bit at how the war machine seemed to be slowing too little, too late. Yet McKenna remained still, and his trust was rewarded as the vehicle came to a stop just in front of him, the last step of its legs slamming down less than a pony length away from the wounded human.

A moment of silence fell over the tableau as no one, human or pony, wanted to be the first to comment on the strangeness lest it turn on them. Finally, however, McKenna shook his head and looked up a the 'Mech's cockpit. “Honestly, dear—“

“Don't you 'dear' me, Jim!” sounded a feminine voice from the machine. “I let you out of my sight for a few hours, and what happens? You get caught in another gunfight and get sliced up by a mutant bird!”

“Does it really count as a gunfight if we were the only ones with firearms?” James mused.

“Don't split hairs with me!” Rebecca McKenna countered. “Every other planet we land on you manage to get involved in some ridiculous brouhaha and nearly get yourself killed!”

“Now you know you're exaggerating,” James retorted, as he shot the woman in the cockpit an angry look. “Besides, what was I supposed to do? Sit back and let the griffons eat the princess?”

“You were supposed to not get hurt!” Some of the anger in her voice bled out at this, and was replaced with a bit of worry. “Do you think I want to run this pack of insane asylum rejects by myself?”

Another moment of brief silence passed, and then James sighed. “Honey, could you please come down from there?” he asked, calmly.

There was no immediate reply, just silence for a few moments. Soon enough, however, the war machine shifted its stance to a more steady one, and then its limbs stiffened. A moment later, a clunk was heard, just before a rope ladder abruptly fell into view behind and between the 'mech's legs, jumping a bit as the momentum of its fall wore off. Then it started to jerk a bit more, and the cause was revealed to be another human descending down its length.

James waited patiently as his wife reached the pavement, and then walked forward to meet her as she came towards him. “Thank you—“

He was interrupted as she slapped his face just hard enough to sting. Before James could think of something to say, however, Rebecca grabbed his head with both hands, turned it back forward again, and then pulled him into an enthusiastic kiss; one he returned immediately with the same verve.

The embrace lasted only a for a few short moments before they pulled away from each other. “Would you stop trying to get yourself killed?” Rebecca asked, the anger gone from her voice and a look of concern on her face.

James could only offer her a lopsided grin. “Comes with the job, babe,” he softly replied.

Rebecca sighed at that, and then rolled her eyes as she took a half-step back. “Then next time, could you at least wait until you climb into your 'mech before you go running off to get shot at?” she asked, an air of long suffering in her tone.

“I'll do my best,” James promised, and then sighed. “By the way,” he added, raising his voice back to normal levels. “Care to meet our boss?” James asked, and then stepped to the side and waved with his good arm towards the ponies standing by the drawbridge.

Rebecca blinked at that, and then blushed. “Ah, screw me,” she muttered. “I don't suppose I've got enough time to run back and get some proper clothes on?” she asked, as she glanced down at her skimpy outfit.

“Now now, my dear,” James replied, as he reached out and gently took hold of his wife's shoulder. “Remember, these ponies like to go naked most of the time,” he added, as he started to walk forward and pulled his blushing wife with him. Then James smirked and gave her an evil look. “Besides, this is perfect revenge for the uniform argument.”

“I'm going to hit you so hard,” Rebecca muttered under her voice, and then put on a smile as they drew close to the group of ponies and one human.

“Princess Luna,” James said, as they stopped in front of the group. “My wife, Rebecca McKenna,” he added, with a gesture from his good arm.

For her part, Luna cast a scholar's eye over the human female. Barely enough clothing to cover her feet, genitalia, and mammaries, the princess thought, as she recalled some details Twilight Sparkle had passed on in her reports. Those reports also mentioned how scandalous it is for humans to go about in such reduced dress, she remembered. Perhaps that bit about how their machines heat up has something to do with it?

These thoughts only took a moment to pass through her head, and so Luna quickly managed to pleasantly smile and nod to the human female. “A pleasure to meet you, missus McKenna,” she said, friendlily.

“Likewise, your highness,” Rebecca replied, and then curtsied briefly. “My apologies for appearing in such reduced dress, but I felt it necessary to ensure that my husband was... reassured of the unit's ability to respond quickly.”

Luna raised an eyebrow at that, and a faint smirk crossed her muzzle. “Indeed,” she simply said. “I appreciate your dedication, then,” she added, and then turned serious. “But I sincerely hope this is not all you have brought.”

Rebecca chuckled briefly at that. “Not by a long shot,” she said, as more thumping sounded in the distance. The looks of surprise she got only brought a grin to the human's face. “I had the unit deploy right after me, told them to guard the palace,” she explained, with a glance to James. “I figured it would be good for the ponies here to see they're not alone.”

James raised an eyebrow of his own at his wife. “Maybe you should have asked, first,” he suggested. “There's been a lot of chaos here and—”

“It is fine,” Luna interrupted, even as the thuds grew into ground-shaking vibrations. All heads turned to her, and she smiled faintly. “I admit that I am most interested in keeping my sister safe from further griffon attacks until we have a chance to reinforce the palace guards from units coming in from around Equestria. Methinks your machines will be quite the deterrent.”

“With all due respect your highness, are you sure?” general Stonewall asked. “The royal palace hasn't been guarded by anything but ponies in millennia. If the populace sees foreigners guarding it now—”

“Then they will know that they are trustworthy,” Luna interrupted, as she gave the general another cool look. “As they most certainly are.”

Stonewall bit his lip at that, and remained quiet. Then he saw movement from the same road that Rebecca's machine had taken, and he and everyone else turned to watch the first 'mechs march into the square.

* * * *

“So, no one's seen 'em since the attack?” April Lewis asked, as she followed the two royal guardsponies through the palace.

“Nope,” the gray stallion on the left replied. “Kinda odd, that; Steelshod is usually pretty dedicated.”

“They're probably both dead,” the unicorn mare on the right observed, curtly. “Damned Griffons.”

“Now now, no need to be so dire, Starchaser,” the earth pony countered, his tone good-natured. “The griffons didn't go near the armory at all.”

“Then why weren't they there?” the mottled brown-and-white pony countered, with a quick glare to the stallion on her left. “And why did the whole place look like a tornado swept through it?”

Lewis shifted uncomfortably in her battle armor at that. Stupid armor, can't wait to take it off—gotta find ol' Steeljaw first, she thought. If the old bugger's still alive. “Well, there was no blood there, either,” the human offered, even as she ducked through a doorway the ponies had no problems moving through. Even GDL Scout armor adds a good fourteen centimeters to my height, she mused. Normally I'd like being taller, but this is starting to get ridiculous.

“No blood, true,” Starchaser allowed, though she soon followed it with a snort. “Maybe Steelshod finally snapped and ran away?”

“Don't mind her,” the gray stallion said, as he looked over his shoulder to Lewis. “She's just upset she missed the fight.”

“Because of a stupid typo!” the mare snapped, as she brought the small group to a halt in front of a large pair of doors. She then rounded on the other pony. “It was supposed to be lieutenant Starlancer who got duty at the reservoir, but the shift leader got confused and told me to go up there instead! Do you know how hard it is to get up there without wings?”

The stallion let a silence hang in the air for a moment, and then subtly glanced back at his side. “I might have an inkling,” he observed, as he turned back to the mare and smiled.

“Oh, stick it up your backside, Irlo,” Starchaser grumbled, and then turned back to the doors and lit up her horn. “That post was made for pegasi and you know it,” she added, as the large doors lit up with a matching aura and then were pulled open.

Behind them was a staircase that went down, and Lewis bent forward a bit to get a better look. “So, uh, where are we going to check next?” she asked, confused as the steps reached a landing and then doubled back on themselves, preventing any view of their ultimate destination.

“Dungeon,” Irlo replied, as he casually started the group forward and downward. “It doesn't get much use these days, but it might be a place to take refuge in a fight.”

“If they even came this way,” Starchaser interjected. “I still say they're dead and hung up on a griffon's tanning rack somewhere.”

Lewis grimaced at that, and was instantly thankful that her helmet was still in place and covering her face. “You're pretty morbid, for a pony,” she observed.

“She is,” Irlo chimed in, and his voice quickly took on a teasing quality. “I think she's actually a minotaur, somehow turned into a pony and forced to work in the one job in Equestria that has even the slightest chance of the sort of fighting they like.”

Starchaser gave the gray stallion a burning look. “Bite me, Irlo,” she snarled.

Irlo returned the look with a smug one of his own. “Is that an invitation?” he asked, and then waggled his eyebrows.

“Perv,” Starchaser retorted, and then turned her head forward again as the group reached the last landing and started down the final staircase.

“You know you love it,” Irlo countered, with a grin on his muzzle. “It's only a matter of time before you fall to my inexorable wall of stallion-ness,” he added, as the group reached the bottom of the stairs and paused inside a large, sparse room. Aside from the stairwell, the only exits were two doors, opposite of each other in the left and right walls.

Starchaser took advantage of the pause to laugh. “You're a tiny little thing, Irlo,” the rather large mare replied. “I'd probably break you in half.”

“Care to place a wager on that?” Irlo asked, with a grin and raised eyebrow.

“I'd sooner try to give Philomena a tongue bath.”

“Ooh, kinky.”

“Shhh,” Lewis interjected, as she brought up a hand. The two ponies fell silent, and the group looked around the dungeon's foyer. “Do you hear that?” she asked, and soon enough the trio all turned their heads to the door on the left wall.

“Is that... singing?” Irlo asked, finally sounding confused.

“Oh, Lord,” Lewis added, with a sigh. “C'mon,” she added, and then made her way towards the entrance. The guards quickly followed, and April wasted no time in opening the door.

On the other side was a room almost identical in size and shape of the first one, though one wouldn't immediately recognize it as such as much of it had been filled with a variety of boxes, parts, and other items generally called “junk” by the technically disinclined. Several tables had been set up and a selection of half-formed metal pieces lay on them, while around their feet were several pieces that looked as if a sledgehammer had been taken to them in anger.

And sitting in the midst of this, with their backs against one table, were a man and a pony. Several bottles of different shapes and sizes were sitting on the floor around them, and the two of them were singing in off tones. “Oh flower o' Scotlaaannnd, when will we seeeeee, yer like agaaiiiinnn!” they sung, seemingly ignorant of the sudden intrusion.

Ah, Hell, Lewis thought, and then turned her eyes to the side of her helmet's HUD. Micro-lasers built into the suit tracked her eye movements to tell what she looked at—in this case, a virtual button that controlled her suit's external speakers—and then registered the rapid, coded blinks she used as commands. “McCoy!” Lewis shouted, as her speakers amplified her voice to more than double her usual volume.

Everyone else in the room winced at that, and the two armorers finally broke out of their revery to take note of the new arrivals. “Ach, what th' blazes is this?” McCoy slurred out the question. “Cannae I do me work without... with...” he trailed off then, as his mind seemed to loose track of his words.

Lewis lowered her volume to normal before she replied. “Chief, there was an attack,” she patiently explained. “Griffons, lots of them. We came by to make sure you two weren't toast.”

“Toasted is more like it,” Irlo quietly grumbled from behind the armored human.

Starchaser took a moment to kick him in the gut with a foreleg, and then stepped forward once the stallion was lying on the floor. “Steelshod, sir,” she began. “As miss Lewis here stated, there was an attack on the palace. Princess Luna has asked for a status report on your meeting with mister McCoy and wants you to provide plans on how to re-equip our forces.”

“Miss tight-buns wants a report?” Steelshod asked, his tone almost as slurred as McCoy's. “Tell her we're working on...” he trailed off, and then glanced to the human at his side. “What'd ya call this again?”

“Eh?” McCoy asked, and then glanced over at some of the material they'd been working on. “Ah, recall— recold...” he frowned, and then made a gesture with his hands. “Boomstick!” he shouted, and then began to laugh, which Steelshod soon joined in.

“Sir!” Starchaser shouted, her tone one of surprise. “You should refer to the princess with respect!”

“I am respecting her!” Steelshod countered, and then pointed a hoof towards the unicorn. “Have you seen her back end? It's glorious!”

“Steelshod!” Starchaser gasped in shock.

“Celestia's plot is better,” Irlo interjected, as he finally regained his breath and his hoofing.

“She's got a bigger one,” Steelshod countered, even as he swayed a bit and slowly shifted his foreleg back down to the floor. “Which is fine and dandy, if you like that sort of thing. But lemme tell ya, son, Luna's plot is so tight you could bounce a roll of coins off of it and hit the moon!”

Starchaser's eyes twitched in a flurry of ticks, and she took a moment to breathe before she turned and started to walk back to the door. Irlo cringed as she came close, but soon relaxed when she passed without comment or violence. He had just started to sigh in relief when Starchaser abruptly bucked his back end and sent him flying into a pile of junk just to the side of the two drunken armorers.

“Stallions,” Starchaser grunted, as she walked out, pointedly ignoring even Lewis.

For her part, April was glad the unicorn passed her by, as she had to mute her speakers and let out a large bout of laughter. Although it was confined to her suit, the fact that she had to bend over as much as the armor would allow in order to keep from falling over in mirth would tell anyone who watched that she was enjoying the scene. Finally, however, she calmed down, and then resumed her normal stance and triggered her speakers again. “So, why do you guys call it 'plot' anyway?” she asked of Steelshod, as curiosity had gotten the better of her.

The brown pony thought for a moment as his alcohol-addled mind processed the request. Soon enough, however, he grinned. “Because, when a mare with nice flanks sits down, she takes up huge... plots of land!” he explained, throwing his forelegs out when he said “huge”. McCoy apparently found that hilarious, as he fell backwards with laughter. Steelshod joined in, and soon the room was filled with the sound of mirth.

Lewis just shook her head and sighed at that. “Men,” she muttered, albeit with a faint smirk on her face. She then turned and headed for the dungeon entrance, eager to make her report and finally take off her armor.

Meanwhile, the two armorers let their laughter die, and they simply rested to catch their breaths. “Women,” McCoy grunted.

“Mares,” Steelshod added.

“Eeyup,” Irlo added, from where he was stuck in a pile of junk, his rear legs hanging in the air.

* * * *

Night descended over the land as the sun set, leaving behind it a fading twilight that contrasted sharply with the harsh glare of lamps in the city below. The artificial lights were bright and harsh, turned up as much as they could to dispel the darkness as ponies crawled through the wreckage in search of survivors, belongings, and the dead.

Rainbow Dash looked down upon the mountainside city from one of the royal palace's parapets, her mood matching the growing gloom. So many dead, she morbidly thought, as her keen eyes found a group carrying another bagged body from the city. Whether pony or griffon, civilian or military, she did not know. They all end up at the same place in the end, don't they? the cyan pegasus wondered, as she watched the procession move towards one of the city's outer gates.

She sighed at that, and then hung her head as she sat down on her haunches. The stone was still warm from the day just past, and it comforted her briefly before a chill breeze blew through her rainbow-colored mane. Dash shivered a bit at that, even though she half-expected it. Autumn's almost here now. The Running of the Leaves will be soon. She blinked at that, and then shook her head. No, it won't; no pony will want to do something like that when an army of machines can come through any minute, without warning.

The pegasus shivered again, this time without any wind to spur her. Why? she asked, with a glance up to the sky above. Stars were starting to show against the vault of the heavens, and Rainbow bit her lip. Why did this happen? Why did war have to come here?

Silence met her unspoken pleas, and Rainbow looked down at the city again, though she saw little of Canterlot as memories of the day past ran through her head. She saw every detail in her mind's eye as clear as day; every tensed sinew of pony and griffon alike, every splatter of blood, every scream of pain, even her own. The patched wound on her flank itched at that, but Dash ignored it as her memories came to the scene in Celestia's suite, the head of a griffon landing in her outstretched forelegs, ponies cut down by claws and sword and spear alike. Why did so many have to die? Why did I... she gulped then, as she remembered staring into the eyes of the human pilot.

Something pattered on the parapet, and Dash looked down to see faint dark splotches upon the stone. She blinked in surprise as more of them appeared, only to widen her eyes as she realized they were tears. Cautiously, Rainbow brought up a foreleg and swiped the fetlock across her eyes only to have it come away wet.

But... I don't feel anything, Dash thought, as she incomprehensibly stared at her wetted limb. I... I don't feel anything it all... Worry started to flow into her mind, and the pegasus just continued to stare as more tears leaked from her eyes. What's wrong with me? Did... did killing that guy—

“Rainbow?” The familiar voice intruded upon her thoughts, and Dash snapped her head around to see a tall, lithe figure approaching her with a bipedal gait.

“Melissa,” Rainbow said, in little more than a croak. she was brought up short by that, and felt confusion over how terrible her voice sounded. “W–what are you doing here?” Dash managed to ask as the human came close.

“I hitched a ride on the Steel,” Melissa explained, as she stopped next Dash and looked down to her. “Someone had to come get the Ferret and take it back to our humble little airfield.”

“Oh,” Dash replied, and then looked away when she noticed how intently the human was gazing at her. “I guess that makes sense,” she offered, half-heartedly.

A few moments of silence passed, leaving the gloom around Dash to feel more oppressive with every passing second. Then to her surprise, Melissa moved and then sat down next the the pegasus, facing the same direction. “I also wanted to come and see how you're doing,” Melissa added, in a lower tone of voice as she glanced over to Dash.

Rainbow blinked a bit as she returned the glance, and then automatically puffed out her chest. “I'm doing fine,” she said, in an attempt to put on her usual braggadocio. “Why wouldn't I be?”

The hard, skeptical look she got in return deflated Dash in an instant, and Melissa shook her head. “I know that's not true,” the human said. “My dad was there, you know, told me all about it. And I was there in the air too, remember?” she asked, a ghost of a grin briefly playing over her face. “You did something completely amazing, you know that?”

Dash's face scrunched up in confusion at that, and she could only shake her head. “I... I don't know how you can call it that,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. “What I did... I...” she let her voice trail off, and then glanced away from the human at her side.

Another silence fell over the pair, though it was brief as Melissa took in a fairly deep breath. “Rainbow—”

“I don't feel anything,” Dash interrupted, without looking back to Melissa. “I... I know I should be feeling something, but I can't,” she added, her voice almost down to a whisper. Then she turned back to the human, tears forming in her eyes again. “What's wrong with me?”

Melissa felt a pain stab deep into her chest as she saw Rainbow's rose-colored eyes begging her for an explanation, and the human bit her lip for a brief moment as she gathered her thoughts. “Oh, Rainbow,” she said, and then reached out to place a hand on the pony's withers. “There's nothing wrong with you,” she said, carefully.

“That's not true!” Dash exclaimed, suddenly. “I should feel bad! I need to feel bad! I... I want...” her speech slowed as heaving sobs started to break up her words. Water poured from her eyes, and she turned her head away in shame. “I don't want to be this way,” she added, her voice quiet.

The pause after her words was brief, and Dash sniffed as she felt Melissa shift her hand up to the back of her head, and then slowly and gently rubbed it down her mane. “You won't be,” Melissa said, as she continued to pet the distraught pegasus. “What you're going through is normal, Dash. You're just in shock at what's happened, and the emotional part of your mind can't process it yet.”

Rainbow sniffed again before she replied. “How can you know that?” she asked, her voice calmer thanks to the strangely soothing contact of a hand repeatedly running down her neck. Then she turned her head back to Melissa again. “How can you possibly know what this feels like?”

Melissa's face darkened a bit, and she stopped petting Dash so she could turn and lean forward to rest her forearms on the tops of her tented knees. A silence fell over the pair, deep and dark as the night around them, and for a moment Dash felt genuine fear that she had offended the human.

Her fear was soon laid to rest, however, as Melissa began to speak again, albeit in a lower register. “I still remember the first person I killed,” she began, softly. “It was only three years ago, back when I was finishing my training as a pilot.

“My parents sent me to the Academy on Columbia, in the Outworlds Alliance,” Melissa continued, as she continued to stare out over Canterlot. “I was only twenty years old, old enough to be called a woman instead of a girl. I thought I had earned that right,” she added with a scoff. “I was out with some classmates to celebrate our upcoming graduation, and we hit the bars. Being the Outworlds, the only stuff they had that was cheap was the local rotgut, and you had to guzzle that pretty fast if you didn't want it coming back up a few seconds later.

“So we got pretty smashed that night. Not too bad; we could still walk, still figure out which way back to the dorms, though not much else,” Melissa explained, as a faint smirk crossed her visage. It faded soon enough, however, as the human continued to speak. “We were halfway back to the academy grounds when we got jumped. Just a bunch of dumb muggers, but they had knives, and one had a gun.

“Normally, you're supposed to just hand over your cash and let the guys get away.” Melissa paused at that, and then shook her head. “We were too drunk for that. Zulara threw the first punch, knocked a knife right out of a guy's hand. Then she took one to the kidneys.” She paused again, and then sighed. “It got nasty, the gun went off... when everything was done, most everyone had been stabbed or shot... except me.”

Rainbow stared at the human, mesmerized by her story. “How?” she asked.

“Because I wasn't just trying to fight them off,” Melissa replied, and then shook her head. “I was mad, pissed off that the bastards wanted our money, had wanted to hurt us. I just fell back on all the training I got from the guys in my parents' merc company, self-defense stuff mainly, but also some Krav Maga,” she added, and then briefly bit her lip. “I went right for the windpipe and broke it. He died, but slowly, from suffocation.

“The fight didn't last long after that, especially when I broke another mugger's leg right at the knee,” Melissa continued, as she leaned back from her forward hunch. Her arms went behind her and supported her torso even as she spoke. “The cops came by only a few minutes later, and the ambulances right after that. Still wasn't fast enough to keep that mugger and Zulara from dying, though.” She paused again, and then closed her eyes. “I saw two people die in front of me, one of them from my own hands, and you know what?” she asked, as she opened her eyes again and looked straight into Dash's. “I didn't feel a damn thing.”

“Nothing?” Rainbow asked, her voice cracking.

“Nope,” Melissa replied, with a shake of her head as she sat more upright again. “At least, not until I got to see one of the academy's pshrinks—psychologists, I mean,” she explained quickly. “I talked to him for ten minutes, and then I started bawling like a girl who lost her favorite stuffed toy.

“Turns out, Dash, that killing people isn't hardwired into our brains anymore than building a gun is,” Melissa added. “And when we do it, our brain just can't handle it all, not entirely. But what our brains are hardwired for is survival, and when your life is in danger you can't afford to be distracted by emotions, so we just kind of shut it all down until we know that we're safe again.”

Dash sobbed again, even as Melissa reached out with a hand to place it on her withers a second time. “You're so much like us, Dash, you really are,” the human continued. “All of you ponies are. Right now your mind is still in shock, still trying to figure out how the Hell everything happened, and it's trying to decide if you're safe yet or not.

“So don't worry, Rainbow, you're going to be fine,” Melissa added, and then smiled a bit even as small tears began to drip out of her eyes. “If you didn't feel this way, then I'd be worried. But you're a good person, a good pony, and you're going to be okay. You'll get through this, because you weren't born a loser. You're going to recover, and become whole again.”

Small rivulets had carved channels through the fur on Rainbow's face by now, and she could feel her eyes filling with tears. “But I... what I did...”

“Was the right thing,” Melissa replied. “You saved lives, and made everyone safe. You made yourself safe,” she added, as she started to lightly pet the pegasus again. “You'll be fine.”

You'll be fine, the words echoed in Dash's head. You'll be fine. You'll be fine... You'll... be... A dam broke somewhere inside her, and Rainbow could only close her eyes and started bawling right there. Slowly, she lowered herself to lie on the parapet, and then covered her head with her forelegs as she let herself go.

Melissa felt herself cry at the scene, and she shifted her position so she could lean her upper body along Dash's side and withers. One hand went to the stone to support her, and the other continued to lightly stroke the pegasus' mane as she bawled her heart out.

How long they stayed like that neither could tell. The sky was pitch black and filled with stars by the time Rainbow's caterwauling had finally wound down into soft sobs, and the stone below them had started to grow cold. Yet they stayed as they were, and for once the cyan pegasus was content to remain still. “That... feels good,” she muttered softly, as Melissa stroked her mane again.

“Hmm,” Melissa hummed. “How are you feeling?” she asked, after a moment.

“Like I was stomped by an ursa major, and then used as a manticore's chew toy,” Rainbow replied. She then shifted a bit, and put her forelegs on the parapet so she could lift her head up and turn it towards the human. “I do feel a little better, but... not all the way.”

Melissa smiled at Dash. “That's normal,” she said, her smile slowly fading as she shifted to sit normally again. “You got through a lot of raw emotion just now, but you're still going to have to come to terms with what happened, and with what you did.”

“Yeah,” Dash mumbled in agreement, and then looked out over Canterlot. The pair sat in silence for a long minute, before Rainbow sighed and then turned back to the human. “How do you do it?” she asked. “How do you live with the guilt, knowing that you k—killed someone?”

Melissa sighed at that, and then reached out again to lay a hand on the back of Dash's head. This time, though, she dug her fingers through the mane and started to scritch the back of the pony's ears. “It's different for everyone, I think,” she said, even as Rainbow closed her eyes and leaned into the human's hand. “Some people use chemicals as a crutch, others turn to hedonism, and still more to despair and depression,” Melissa explained, as she looked out over the city to keep the pegasus' adorable visage from distracting her. “Some go numb to it all, and a few even go crazy and start reveling in it.”

“Like O'Connell?” Dash asked, as she opened her eyes again to look at Melissa.

“No,” the human replied, with a shake of her head. “O'Connell is something different; a sociopath.”

“What's that?” Rainbow asked, now confused.

“A sociopath is a person who doesn't quite grasp that the people around him are actually people,” Melissa explained. “They consider themselves to be the most important thing in the universe, bar none, and to them the only reason the rest of us exist is to be their servants, tools, and stepping stones. They have no compunction about mistreating others, or even killing them, so long as it gets them what they want, and the only reason most of them obey the law is because they know how much it'll hurt them if they don't.”

Rainbow glanced to the side and shuddered a bit as memories flashed in her mind's eye. “Yeah, that sounds like him,” she agreed. Then she met Melissa's eyes again. “But, how is that any different from what you guys do?” she asked, and then slowly looked down to the stone parapet. “How is that any different from what I did?”

“Because what we do, and what you did was different,” Melissa evenly replied, as she removed her hand from Dash's head. She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts, and then sighed. “My dad explains it better than me, but what we do, we do out of duty.”

“Duty?” Dash echoed. “But, I thought you guys fought for money?”

Melissa shook her head slightly. “Have you seen us get paid yet?” she asked, with a raised eyebrow. “And Pinkie's little bag of coins doesn't count.”

“Because it's not even close to what you guys normally get, right?” Rainbow asked, and then smirked faintly as she saw a brief look of surprise wash over Melissa's face. “I asked someone about that, and she told me how much you guys make,” the pegasus explained.

“Ah,” Melissa replied, with a brief smile. “Well then, you know that we're not exactly doing this for profit then.”

Rainbow nodded. “Yeah,” she said, and then tilted her head. “But you're not from Equestria, either, it's not your job to fight for us. So why do you do it?”

Melissa took a moment to think, and she glanced out over the city as the silence dragged on. Finally, she spoke. “Let me ask you a question, Dash,” she said, while still looking over the battered capitol. “Why'd you do what you did today?” Melissa turned to the pegasus at that and spitted her with a piercing look. “Why did you risk your life to go up and take out one of the enemy?”

Rainbow Dash bristled at that, and she felt her wings twitch just a bit. “What do you mean, 'why'?” she asked, a note of irritation in her voice. “They were attacking Canterlot and killing ponies! Somepony had to do something, and I was the only one who could do it!”

“But was it really your duty to do so?” Melissa asked, with a raised eyebrow. “You're not in the army or guards, Dash—you're no soldier. The responsibility to risk their lives and protect others lies on their shoulders, not yours.”

“That doesn't matter!” Dash hotly replied, her wings flaring slightly. “I couldn't just stand there and watch if I could do something about it, to stop... it...” Rainbow blinked at that, as realization started to work its way through her mind. A moment of silence fell across the pair as the pegasus contemplated the new thoughts. Soon enough, however, she blinked and then looked into Melissa's face. “You couldn't stand back either, could you?” Dash asked.

“No,” Melissa replied, with a shake of her head. “There are mercs who can do that; sit back and watch bad things happen and not lift a finger without being paid. But not everyone is like that,” the human explained, as she reached out to pat Rainbow's withers again. “The best merc units, in fact, make it a point to behave decently and honorably, including protecting civilians whenever possible.

“As for us in the Dark Horse, we all share a few common beliefs,” Melissa continued. “Amongst them that there is such a thing as right and wrong, good and evil, and that as soldiers, as people with power, we have a responsibility to use that power to help others.” The pilot paused at that to shake her head. “We couldn't just sit back and let O'Connell do whatever he wanted, because as a sociopath, he doesn't have any consideration for right or wrong. As far as he's concerned, the only 'right' thing to do is whatever he can get away with, and you've seen what that means.”

Dash nodded at that. “Yeah, I do,” she said, and then quietly thought for a few moments. “But...” she began, but then seemed to think better of it and turned her head away.

“'But' what?” Melissa asked.

“Nothing,” Rainbow replied, with a shake of her head as she looked out over Canterlot.

“Bull,” Melissa said, and she leaned forward to get into the pegasus' peripheral vision. “What is it, Dash? Something else still bugging you?”

Rainbow chewed on her lower lip in silence as she ruminated. Finally, she sighed, and then looked Melissa in the eye. “How do you keep from turning out like him?” she asked, carefully.

Melissa blinked at that, and then offered Dash a small smile. “Simple,” she replied, as she petted the pegasus' mane again. “What separates us from men like O'Connell is the fact that we adhere to a moral code, an understanding of right and wrong that doesn't change when it's convenient. So long as we stick to that, remember and honor it, then our actions will always be guided towards righteousness.”

Dash frowned as she thought over the human's words. “That sounds kinda hard, if you're going out and killing people,” she observed.

Melissa sighed. “It ain't easy, that's for sure,” she admitted, quietly. “But my parents have been doing it since before I was born, and I've been doing it all my life. Frankly, I don't think I could do anything else.”

Again, Rainbow took a moment to ponder over her friend's words, and soon offered a smile. “I think I get it,” she said. “It's not easy, but you do it because that's who you are, right?”

“Right,” Melissa replied, a broader smile crossing her face. “So you see then, why we can't just stand back? Why we're willing to fight, and if necessary, to die for you?” she asked, her expression becoming intent.

“Yeah,” Rainbow replied, her smile growing a bit. “I do,” she added, and then paused as a new thought ran through her head. “It's like loyalty, isn't it?” she asked, her smile fading away even as a spark seemed to ignite in her chest. “But like, to your code stuff.”

Melissa nodded. “What we call 'duty' is just a form of loyalty, after all,” she replied. “Loyalty to an idea, to something greater than yourself, something you're willing to sacrifice for. Even your own life, if it's important enough.”

“Wow,” Dash said, as she absorbed the answer. “That's like... loyalty squared, or something.”

A chuckle was Melissa's initial reply. “Or something,” she agreed, with a smile, and then petted Rainbow's mane again. “So, are you feeling better now?”

Dash tilted her head a bit as she thought about the answer, and then nodded. “Yeah. Not all the way, but... I feel like I'm going to be f–fine now,” she said, and then closed her eyes. “Especially if you keep doing what you're doing.”

Melissa chuckled again. “Enjoying it, huh?” she asked, somewhat teasingly.

“I hate to admit it, but yeah,” Dash replied. Then her eyes snapped open, and she gave the human a hard look. “But if you tell anypony about this, I'll buck your teeth out,” she warned.

“My lips are sealed,” Melissa replied, as she used her free hand to mime zipping her mouth shut.

“Good,” Rainbow grunted, and then yawned. “Oh, man,” she muttered, and then closed her eyes for a moment. “Suddenly I feel so wiped out.”

“After a day like today, and then the chat we had?” Melissa asked, and then once again scritched the pegasus' ears. “I'm surprised you're still awake. Heck, I'm surprised I'm still awake, after everything that happened,” she added, and then withdrew her hand and started to stand up. “Come on, let's get off this cold wall and head over to the Steel. I've got a warm bed waiting for me, and I'm sure someone on patrol won't mind it if you take their bunk for the night.”

“Thanks,” Dash said, as she slowly stood up. Her legs wobbled for a moment, but soon enough her discipline kicked in and they steadied. “I don't think I could sleep anywhere else tonight,” she added, her voice dropping slightly as she followed the human pilot.

“I don't blame you,” Melissa replied, with a gentile smile she shot over her shoulder. “After today, I doubt you're the only one who wants to sleep surrounded by an armored hull bristling with weaponry.”

“Heh,” Dash chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds good right about now. Yanno, so long as you lock the doors,” she added, and then fell silent a moment to think. “You guys are gonna lock the doors, right?”

“Definitely,” Melissa answered, this time without mirth in her voice. “This little war's starting to heat up, and we're right in the middle of it; you bet we're going to be careful.”

Chapter 16 - Shifting Into Gear

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Canterlot Central Train Station

Canterlot, Equestria

September 25th, AD 3070/1023 RC

Metal squealed upon metal as the train known as “the Friendship Express” braked its momentum and ground to a stop. Fortunately, the train was already moving slowly as it had entered Canterlot a short while ago, moving through the small alleys set aside for the railroad's use. Normally the windows on either side of the passenger cars gave a rather charming preview of Equestria's capitol city. Today, however, the vision outside showed a surreal mix of untouched houses, blasted buildings, and larges groups of ponies moving about with an air of unease and paranoia, casting glances to the sky or around corners.

Applejack sighed as she saw this behavior. Ah never liked these big city ponies much, she thought, as the train finally halted. But Ah'd never want ta have 'em like this. Nopony deserves this.

“Penny fer yer thoughts, cuz?” a familiar voice asked, and Applejack turned to see her cousin Braeburn giving her a sad smile from the seat next to her. “Ya seem mighty worried.”

Applejack shook her head a bit. “That's 'cuz Ah am worried,” she replied, as the car started to fill with noise as the various passengers—guards from Equestria's borderlands, mainly, and volunteers for the new army—started to stand and gather their personal affects. “This ain't th' Canterlot Ah've seen before, all purty and shiny with fancy ponies struttin' about,” the orange mare added, and then sighed as she looked out the windows again. “Everypony looks like th' sky's gonna fall down on 'em, and from how them buildings look Ah think that ain't an exaggeration.”

“Yeah,” Braeburn morosely agreed. “Well, the princess wouldn't be callin' you and yer friends in if it wasn't a big problem,” he added, with an encouraging grin. “Not that y'all can't handle it.”

Despite her worries, Applejack found herself grinning back. “Ah suppose,” she said, with a chuckle. It was short-lived, however, as Braeburn's words bade her to look several rows down, to where four other mares were sitting and chatting quietly as the passenger car started to empty. “Poor Twilight, though; Ah wish she didn't have ta come with her brother still in th' hospital.”

“I'm sure she'll be fine,” Braeburn offered. “Y'all are th' strongest ponies I ever seen, and I don't mean th' train-pullin' kind o' strength,” he added, with another grin. “Even Appleloosa's heard of what y'all did to that Discord feller. If ya can stand up to him, then I don't think y'all gotta worry 'bout some overgrown apes.”

Applejack gave her cousin a look of disbelief. “Ya won't be sayin' that once ya meet 'em,” she said, as she slid off the bench seat and quickly got to all fours in the aisle. “And ya will, if what Ah heard Twilight talkin' 'bout with 'em.”

“Well, we'll see,” Braeburn replied, as he followed Applejack into the aisle after slinging his saddlebags over his back. “Now, if'n you would be so kind?” he asked, and then gestured forward with a forehoof.

Applejack just shook her head as she led her relative to where her Ponyville friends were standing up after gathering their bags. “Y'all ready?” she asked, as they turned to face her.

“As we'll ever be,” Twilight replied, somewhat flatly. Her friends all gave the unicorn looks at that, and so she forced a wan smile onto her muzzle. “Come on, let's go meet the escort Luna promised us,” she added, and then turned and headed for one of the exits.

The five ponies behind her shared a series of worried expressions, but nevertheless put their concerns aside as they followed Twilight Sparkle out of the train and onto the crowded platform. Ponies milled about, moving in various directions as guards and volunteers headed for armored ponies calling them to muster, and many civilians, especially the young and old, shuffled forward to take their place on the train and evacuate the city.

As crowded as it was, however, none could miss the towering figure of a human in battle armor, even if ponies weren't doing their best to give the imposing shape a wide berth. As it was, the clear space around the armored human was rather conspicuous, more so with the single armored guardspony calmly standing next to the alien.

“Is—is that one o' them humans?” Braeburn asked.

“Eeyup,” Applejack replied, letting a bit of smugness enter her voice upon hearing her cousin's halting words. “Prob'ly our escort, too.”

“I'd say so,” Twilight Sparkle added, as she led the group towards the two waiting soldiers. “Hello, miss Lewis,” she said to the human, as they drew close.

“Miss Sparkle,” the armored figure said, her voice a bit flat after being processed through the speakers. “Nice to see you again, despite the circumstances.”

“Likewise,” Twilight replied, her voice tight. Then she turned to the armored pegasus. “Good day, corporal,” she said, after reading his rank insigne.

“Miss Sparkle,” the stallion replied, with a nod of his head. “My name is Trade Wind. Princess Luna sent me to escort you to the humans' ship, where she will join you all for a planning session with the Dark Horse.”

“And I'm along because the commander is feeling paranoid,” Lewis added, somewhat offhandedly.

“I think he has a right to be,” Trade Wind countered, with a glance up to the human's head. “In any case, may I presume the stallion is with your group, as well?” he asked as he looked back to Twilight.

“Oh, sorta,” the unicorn replied, somewhat unsure.

Applejack took a step forward at that. “Mah cousin Braeburn was jus' comin' along so he could volunteer fer the army,” she explained, with a hoof gesture to the yellow stallion.

“Eeyup,” Braeburn managed to say, despite feeling intimidated by the large, bipedal figure nearby. “I don't suppose you could point me in the right direction?”

“Of course,” Trade Wind replied, and then winced as something on his side shifted. “Oh, right,” he said, and then folded the bandaged stump back before he extended his remaining wing. “Off that way, towards the palace, you'll find the barracks; recruitment ponies are waiting outside. After all that's happened there's a line, though, so you'll want to go right away.”

Braeburn and the Ponyville mares all had looks of shock and mild revulsion on their faces upon having gotten a clear look at the corporal's injuries. “Wow, that—” Braeburn began, with a slight stutter. “That happened in the battle?”

“Aye,” Trade Wind replied, grumpily, as he folded his lone wing back to his side. “Get used to seeing that sort of injury in the infantry; the griffons like to de-wing pegasi before killing them, the jealous, sick bastards.”

The mares blanched at the harsh words, but Braeburn only had a look of determination grow on his face. “That's a downright vile thing ta do,” he said, his tone low.

“Agreed,” Lewis chimed in again, with a nod of her head. “It's one thing to kill someone in battle, it's another thing entirely to torment them first.”

Braeburn nodded back, and a light of appreciation lit in his eyes as he looked up at the small visor in the human's helmet. “Glad ta know y'all ain't that bad,” he observed.

Lewis shrugged. “We've got our own problems, but most of us know not to be completely evil,” she replied.

Braeburn couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he used the old Apple family standby: “eeyup,” he said, and then turned to face his cousin. “I guess I should get goin', then,” he added.

“Now, you take care o' yerself,” Applejack said, as she turned to give her cousin a hug.

“I will,” Braeburn replied as he returned the hug. “And you take care o' yerself too, AJ,” he added, as they parted. Then he gave a smile to the others in the group. “That goes for y'all, as well.” A small chorus of gratitude answered him, and the Appleloosan stallion smiled once more before he picked up his bags and then turned to trot off.

“Well, I do hate to sound impatient,” Trade Wind interjected, after waiting a bit in the brief silence that followed Braeburn's departure. “But we should be going.”

“Of course,” Twilight said, as the others mares nodded. “Please lead on, corporal.”

“Actually, let me,” Lewis interjected, her tone suddenly lower and more tense than it was before. The ponies all looked up to her, and they saw that her head had frozen during one of her idle scans of the crowd. Her gaze seemed to be off towards the rear of the train, though before long she casually shifted her head back around. “And try to act natural,” she added, before she turned to almost lazily walk off.

Confused, the six ponies took a moment to regain their bearings before they trotted off to rejoin the human at a slow walk. “So I'm enjoying seeing this city of yours,” Lewis said as they caught up, before anypony could ask about her odd behavior. “It's absolutely beautiful, or at least the parts that weren't shot up.”

The casual, almost gregarious way the human said that last sentence made the ponies in the group look up at her with confused expressions yet again. And again, before any one of them could speak up, the trooper continued. “Reminds me of back home. I grew up on Atreus, you know?” she asked, with a glance behind her to the ponies following. Twilight Sparkle, however, noted that the glance seemed to halt a bit over a small group of ponies they were approaching. “Well, I'm sure you have no idea what the planet is, but it's the capitol of the Free Worlds League, and—”

She didn't finish that statement, as by then they were passing the group of ponies that had caught her interest. Suddenly, and with speed that was surprising for one so heavily armored, Lewis abruptly spun on a heel and nearly dashed two steps up to a rather bland-looking pony with a dull yellow coat. Before anyone there could even think, she grabbed him by his throat with her left hand and then lifted the pony to slam his body against the side of the train so that his eyes were the same level as hers. Her right hand was busy as well, as Lewis used it to retrieve her personal sidearm from its holster at her hip, and then pressed the barrel into the face of the hapless figure she held. “H–help!” the earth pony shouted, his voice strangled by the death grip on his throat.

“Miss Lewis!” Trade Wind barked out, as he was the first to recover from his shock. “What are you doing to that pony?”

“This is no pony,” Lewis growled out, her voice low, as she thumbed the safety on her slug-thrower to the 'off' position. “I don't know what it is, but it's not a pony.”

“You're mad!” the figure protested, as he raised his hooves up to try and pry the hand from his throat. “Guard! I demand you arrest this thing!”

“April, what's this about?” Twilight Sparkle finally spoke up, even as a murmur rose from the watching crowd around them.

“My suit is equipped with an active probe system,” Lewis said, flatly. “Which means not only do I have a metric assload of sensors, but also a heuristic analysis computer to run them. And right now, my suit's HUD is showing me a composite image it pieced from little errors in this thing's disguise,” she explained, and then pressed the barrel of her pistol right up to the pony's nose. “Now are you going to show yourself, or do I have to start breaking your limbs and find out what's inside, you freaky little insect?”

A moment of confusion and revulsion washed over the area. Once again, though, Twilight Sparkle recovered quickly, and she widened her eyes and gasped as the human's words snapped into place. The lavender pony quickly charged up a spell she had learned after her brother's wedding, and her horn glowed as it sent a beam of purple energy to wash over the body Lewis held in her hand. Green flames erupted everywhere the beam touched on the pony in question, and soon it was revealed to be “...a Changeling!”

“A what?” Lewis asked, though she didn't move her eyes from the black creature she held.

“Enemies of Equestria,” Trade Wind explained, with a growl, as he walked up to stand next to the human soldier and shot a hateful glance to the insectoid. “Shapeshifters. They attempted an invasion last year.”

The creature in Lewis' grasp hissed, exposing its fangs. “Release me, or you will suffer!” it commanded, as its horn started to glow with a sick, green light.

Twilight charged up her mana, fully intending to counter any spell the changeling could use, but as usual Lewis acted first. The pistol in her hand shifted upwards until its barrel pressed right up to the base of the creature's horn. A loud report ripped through the crowded boarding platform a scarce half-second later, followed quickly by the wailing of pain.

Various ponies gasped as they saw the jagged horn fall to the ground, its base shattered. Even more were shocked when they saw the changeling writhing and yelling in pain, but both groups could only redouble their reactions as Lewis tightened her hand over the creature's soft throat, cutting off its cries, as well as its air supply. “Lesson one when dealing with the human race, bug boy,” Lewis said, coldly, as she lowered the smoking barrel of her pistol from the ruined stump of the changeling's horn to press it right between pupil-less eyes. “Don't ever threaten someone who has a gun pointed at you; it's monumentally stupid. Be glad that I figured you need to be questioned, because otherwise I would have rather sent that bullet through your brainpan, or whatever it is you have in that ugly head of yours.”

A slight rustle and commotion came from the crowd just then, as a squad of pegasus guards descended from above. “What's going on here?” the sergeant in the lead demanded.

“Sir,” Trade Wind said, as he turned to offer a foreleg salute to the senior NCO. “A changeling has been caught attempting to infiltrate Canterlot.”

“So I see,” the sergeant said, as he took in the scene. “Excellent work, corporal.”

“Actually, sir, it was the human's effort,” Trade Wind replied, evenly. “Their technology let her see right through its disguise.” He shot a quick look up to the armored human at this, and she nodded in response to the silent question.

“Astounding,” the pegasus sergeant said, and then flapped his wings to assume the same eye level as Lewis. “I thank you, miss...?”

“April Lewis,” the human replied, as she let her grip on the creature in her hand loosen; it was about ready to pass out from asphyxiation, it seemed, and she wasn't willing to let it die just yet.

“Thank you, miss Lewis,” the sergeant said, and then turned to motion to his squad. “We will take care of this from here, but I sincerely appreciate your diligence.”

“Just doing my job,” Lewis replied, as she slowly released the whimpering, half-conscious form to a pair of pegasus ponies who flew up to take the changeling in their hooves. She kept her pistol aimed at it, however, until two more pegasi floated over and slapped rune-carved irons over all four of the creature's legs.

The sergeant grunted at that. “If only the unicorns working the scanning stations had done theirs, as well,” he grumbled. “Alright, let's get this thing to the dungeons and report this to Customs,” he said, in a louder and more controlled tone, and then turned to lead his squad and their prisoner off into the air. “Those punks need to step up their game.”

A moment of silence passed as the crowd watched the guards fly away. Soon enough, however, it was broken as a single pony somewhere started to clop his hooves on the floor. The rest of the crowd joined in after only a moment, and cheers were added in as well. The entire platform shook with the force of pony applause, and soon enough Trade Wind stepped forward and pushed a hoof to his mouth and whistled to gain the denizens' attention. “Alright, this is a busy train station,” he said, as loud as he could without shouting in order to be heard over the last traces of applause. “Thank you for your enthusiasm, but now's the time to move along and go about your business.”

The ponies around them slowly returned to their various tasks, and soon the station was back to normal, albeit with a faint undercurrent of tension at the violent display and what it implied. The group that included the element bearers, however, took a long moment to regain their composure. It was Rarity who spoke next. “Miss Lewis,” she began, slowly. “Although I cannot find myself entirely in agreement with your methods, I nevertheless must thank you for your diligence.”

“It's nothing,” April replied, with a wave of an armored hand. “Anyway, we should be going, shouldn't we?”

“Indeed,” Trade Wind interjected. “This is going to be a long enough day as it is, and the paperwork for catching a spy is going to make it longer,” he said, and then sighed before he turned to lead the group off. “So please, let us be off to that ship.”

The mares from Ponyville shared a look, then turned their attention to Lewis. The human shrugged, and then started off after Trade Wind. “C'mon, you heard the corporal,” she said, and then lowered her voice a bit as the others caught up. “Besides... I'm kind of eager to have my sensors scan every pony along our route, now, just to be sure.”

“It wouldn't hurt to alert your commander to the fact that Changelings are apparently now involved,” Trade Wind offered.

“That goes without saying, now doesn't it?” Lewis replied.

* * * *

DropShip Heart of Steel

Grounded next to Canterlot

“That is the most adorable thing I have ever seen.”

Melissa covered her mouth with a hand to help stifle the chuckle that threatened to erupt. “Come on, Franz,” she said, in a muted tone. “You sound as if you've never found a pony sleeping in your bed before.”

The other mechwarrior snorted at that, and then slowly moved towards the locker that held his personal effects. He was careful to move quietly, as his passage took him next to the bed where a cyan pegasus with a wild, multi-hued mane was splayed out on her back. Each one of the pony's limbs was skewed in different direction, and even her wings were spread out underneath the mare, pressed into the mattress by her weight. “I've seen some interesting things in my beds before,” Franz Mendoza allowed, as he opened the locker and retrieved a single item. “But I must say, this takes the cake.”

“Yeah,” Melissa agreed, and then blinked as she saw Mendoza bring the device up to his face. “Is that a camera?”

“Yup,” Mendoza replied, as he turned the device on.

“Flat or tridee?”

“Tridee,” Mendoza replied, and then briefly fell silent as the 3D camera made noises that indicated it was working. “There is no way I'm not recording this for posterity.”

Melissa shook her head, but the smile on her face showed that she agreed with the unit's Commando pilot. “Just try to avoid certain angles,” she said, and then waited for the older human to give her a questioning look. “She's not exactly dressed,” she explained.

“Ah, gotcha,” Mendoza replied, with a slight blush. “Definitely don't want to be put into that group,” he added with a sheepish grin, as he shifted his position a bit and captured some more images. “So, how much do you think these pictures are going to be worth?” he asked, as he moved to take another set.

“Enough to buy you an Atlas,” Melissa replied, with a smile. “And that's just from everyone on this ship wanting a copy. You'll probably be able to buy a squadron of JumpShips when we get back home.”

“If we get back home,” Mendoza muttered. Both humans fell silent and still at that for a few moments, though they were soon brought out of their morose pause as Rainbow Dash shifted around on the bed.

Melissa tensed as she feared the worst; Rainbow waking up to see two strange people ogling her. Not ogling, observing! ...okay, that sounded weak even to me, Melissa darkly mused. She didn't have to worry about it, however, as the pegasus never really woke up, merely shifted her position so that she was now lying on her belly. Both of her right legs were now dangling over the side of the bed, her wings were draped along her sides like forgotten blankets, and her muzzle had been pressed into a pillow while her tail was spread across the sheets.

“Okay, that right there?” Mendoza interjected. “That would kill about fifty percent of people over sixty-five.”

“Just take a few more pictures,” Melissa replied, with a slight chuckle she couldn't quite suppress. “Before she wakes up and smashes that camera to bits. I damn well want a set for my personal 'cute things' folder.”

Mendoza chuckled back, and then took a few more pictures of Dash in her new position before he finally shut the camera off and then returned it to his locker. “I'll let you wake her up yourself, then,” he said, as he moved to the entrance of the small cabin.

“Oh yes, because that's so easy to do,” Melissa wryly observed, with a roll of her eyes. “I don't think I've ever seen someone sleep so deeply.”

“Not even your father?” Mendoza asked, as he paused in the doorway. “I mean, I heard a story that he once slept through a jump.”

“Yeah, he did,” Melissa said, with a smirk. “Mom loves telling that story, and dad never disputes it, so I'm sure it's canon. But Dashie here,” she added, and then turned to look at the unsuspecting pony. “She takes the cake, that's for sure.” Melissa paused, and then smiled evilly as she glanced back at Mendoza. “This is gonna be fun.”

Mendoza grimaced at that. “Am I gonna have to wash my bedsheets after this?” he asked.

“Hopefully not,” Melissa replied. “Now, who on the ship has an air horn?”

* * * *

The sun was warm, the sky was clear, and Rainbow Dash had not a single care in the world as she flew over Ponyville. The wind stung her eyes as she pushed herself to the limit of her abilities, swinging wildly through the air as she performed ever more daring maneuvers. This is the life, the pegasus thought as she hurtled through a double loop and then dove for the ground. Time for my personal favorite: a sonic rainboo—

Noise more terrible than anything she knew blasted through her head. The skies above Ponyville dissolved to pitch blackness, which didn't abate even when Dash snapped her eyes open. “Augh!” she shouted, as she flopped around in the darkness atop an unfamiliar bed.

“Quiet!” a voice said near her, and Dash blanched as she felt a human hand placed on her shoulder. “You'll let it know where we are.”

“Huh? Melissa?” Dash asked, her voice low to match the other sapient. “What is it? What's going on?”

“A snipe snuck onboard,” Melissa whispered, in a fearful tone. “We have to be quiet, otherwise it'll eat us.”

“Wh–what?” the mare stuttered, frightened by the thought of humans being afraid of some animal. “What's a snipe?”

“It's an animal the size of a human, half-bird, half-reptile,” Melissa whispered, and Rainbow flinched a bit as she realized the human was speaking right into one of her ears. “It has huge eyes that glow, and when it finds you it lets out a terrible roar just before it pounces to gobble you up.”

Rainbow Dash gulped at that. “Can we call the guard?” she asked, in a whisper so low it would make Fluttershy sound like a bullhorn.

“We tried, but—” Melissa began, but was interrupted when a pair of brilliant circular lights flashed on and then focused on Dash. “THERE IT IS! RUN!”

The last sentence was practically screamed into Rainbow's ear, and it was followed by the same terrible noise that had awakened her from slumber. Combined with the bright lights shining on her face, and the fearful shout in her ear, Dash only had one reaction: flight.

Unfortunately, the berthing rooms on board a DropShip are not known for their spaciousness, and almost as soon as Dash leapt into the air she collided head-first into the ceiling with a resounding 'clang' before she fell back down to the bed. Dazed and stunned, Rainbow felt terror wash over her as the lights focused on her once again. Then suddenly, the lights went out, and instead of a terrible roar the mare heard laughing. “Wh–ow,” she muttered, as the pain of her impact mixed in with confusion.

The lights to the room suddenly snapped on, which made Dash close her eyes briefly in pain. Her confusion only deepened as she heard distinctly electronic tones nearby, as well. “Got it!” an unfamiliar voice announced.

“Speaking of 'got',” Melissa cheerfully said, from where she sat on the floor next to the bunk Dash was lying upon. “How'd you like our little prank?” she asked, directing the question to the mare in the room.

“Prank?” Dash asked back, as her eyes snapped open to reveal an angry stare. “That was a prank?” she demanded, as she stared hard at the human pilot beside her.

Melissa just continued to smile. “Yup,” she replied, evenly.

A moment of silent staring met her monosyllabic response. Soon enough, however, the edges of Dash's mouth curled up, and she ruefully chuckled. “Okay, you got me good there,” she admitted, and then winced and briefly rubbed the top of her head with a hoof. “A bit too good,” she muttered.

“Aw, did you hurt yourself?” Melissa cooed, and then reached out with a hand to rob over the spot Dash had worked at.

“Stop that,” Dash protested—weakly, as she only made a half-hearted attempt to push the human's arm away with a foreleg. “Or at least, move your hand a bit to the right,” she added, and then sighed and relaxed as Melissa complied with the request.

Another electronic tone sounded, and Dash looked over to see a man holding a rather large device. She squinted at it, and then frowned when she saw what looked like a set of lenses on the front. “Is that a camera?” she growled.

“That depends,” the male replied. “What would you do if it was?”

Rainbow didn't audibly reply to that, but instead started to stand up on the bed. She snorted and then folded her ears back in an expression of anger.

“Run, Frank!” Melissa called out. “Save the evidence!”

Mendoza didn't need any more encouragement, and he quickly spun about and ran out of the door before disappearing down the corridor. Rainbow jumped off the bed and then raced after him, her hooves clattering on the steel floors as she entered the corridor and gave chase.

* * * *

James McKenna grumbled as he walked into the Heart of Steel's mess, having just awakened and finished his morning ablutions and getting dressed. As painful as that was, he silently grumbled as he moved through the crowded room, nodding to the other members of the Dark Horse and the Steel's crew as they sat and ate around the cramped table. I hate, hate, hate trying to shower and dress with a bandaged arm, he further groused, as he moved to sit down at one end of the rectangular table.

His mood was lifted quickly enough, however, as as plate with food upon it was set in front of him and was soon joined by a filled glass and flatware. James broke himself out of his self-pity at that, and then gave a warm smile up at the person who'd brought him the meal. “I knew there was a reason I keep you around,” he jokingly said to his wife.

Rebecca McKenna gave a playful slap to James' good arm and then sat down next to him with her own dishes. “Don't get too excited,” she replied. “It's still only powder-mix pancakes and reconstituted orange juice, after all.”

“Ah, but there's always the bacon,” James happily pointed out, as he quickly moved to grab a piece of said food and then took a bite out of it.

“True, there is that,” Rebecca admitted, as she took up her flatware and began to dig into her pancakes. The married couple then fell into a polite silence as they ate, and listened to the conversations going on around the table.

Muted conversations, James noted, and then stifled a sigh. Today was the day they started their march out to meet O'Connell's forces, and it was entirely likely that the next day would bring with it terror, pain, and death. Never good for morale to reflect on the prospect of that sort of thing, the commander darkly mused.

Any further thoughts on such matters, however, were put aside as a shout was heard through the open hatch leading to the Steel's access corridors. Everyone around the table froze and tensed up at the noise, and hands twitched down to where several crew wore their holsters. The tension lifted a moment later, however, as a second shout in a distinctive voice was heard: “Get back here you damn dirty ape!”

“Make me!” the now-recognizable voice of Franz Mendoza was heard, just as the thrumming of footsteps echoed into the mess. A second later the mechwarrior hopped through the hatch and then looked around frantically at the group of curious, annoyed, and indifferent faces. “David!” Mendoza said, as he spied his fellow Lyran. “Keep away!” he added, and then tossed the object he held.

For his part, David Silva reacted quickly and easily caught the rather hefty 3D camera. His mind was equally quick, and he promptly shoved it under the table, where it sat in his lap and out of sight of any casual viewer.

Scarcely had this occurred when Rainbow Dash caught up to Mendoza and then barreled into him, sending both man and mare to the deck, the latter landing atop the human's back. “Gotcha!” she declared, pridefully. “Now gimme that camera!”

“Ow,” Mendoza groaned. “Sweet mother of pi, how can you weigh that much and still fly?” he asked, as he turned his head to glance at the rainbow-maned head of his pursuer.

“None of your business!” Dash countered. “Now pony up the camera.”

“Ahem,” a voice cleared itself. Both man and mare turned their heads to look up to see that James had stood up from his seat, and was now giving them both a hard, menacing look. “I want to know what's going on,” he said, slowly. “Before I decide to strap you both to a missile and send you into the backside of a Kodiak.”

It was a testament to the dark malice of McKenna's tone that neither Mendoza nor Dash responded immediately. The former, however, was more used to his commander's moods, and so spoke first. “Oh, just a little bit of roughhousing,” he said, nonchalant. “Maybe a bit of entrepreneurship.”

Rainbow snapped out at this, and she frowned down at the human still under her hooves. “You were gonna sell those pictures?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“What pictures?” asked Rebecca, as she stood and affixed the arguing pair with her own, legendarily harsh gaze.

“Uhm,” Mendoza uttered, as he shifted and started to push himself up. Despite her anger, Dash took the hint and climbed off of the human so he could get to his feet. “Nothing much, just mementos.”

“I didn't say you could take my picture,” Dash shot out.

“You didn't ask to sleep in my bed,” Mendoza countered.

“You didn't complain when you came in from your watch,” a new voice added, and everyone in the room turned their heads to see Melissa McKenna standing in the hatchway.

“Like I was going to force the unbearably cute pony to climb out of bed?” Mendoza replied, and then smirked at the woman. “That was your job, if I recall correctly. Along with petting ponies, it seems.”

Both Melissa and Dash blushed at this—the latter rather profusely so—but before either of them could say anything, one of the men sitting at the mess table spoke up. “Wait, wait,” Dorian Carmine said, as he raised a hand to help interject himself into the conversation. “Can we pet the ponies now? Because I totally want in on that.”

“I call second,” said Alexis Shepard, the diminutive pilot of the company's Grand Dragon. “I've had enough of you guys hogging the pony contact while I'm been on patrol.”

The blush on Dash's face deepened considerably when the fact she'd been petted has been revealed, and now she could feel her cheeks practically burning as she heard the other members of the Dark Horse and the Steel's crew chime in with their desire to bestow that sort of physical affection upon, if not her, then at least some pony. Rainbow then turned her head to look at Melissa. “Are all of you completely crazy?” she quietly asked,

“I'd say so,” Melissa replied, and then chuckled as she watched a good-natured argument break out over the mess table about who would get first dibs on whichever of the more commonly seen ponies. Even more amusing was the fact that her father was covering his face with his good hand, while her mother seemed torn between stern disapproval and her own amusement at the scene. “I think it's a survival adaptation, being crazier than other animals, because it lets us do things other species wouldn't even think of trying.”

“With good reason,” Mendoza chimed in.

Rainbow Dash sighed at that, and then sat down on her haunches. “I'm never gonna live this down, am I?” she asked of no one in particular. “I'll be known as 'that one pony who likes apes treating her like a dog.'”

Melissa frowned at that, and then turned to look over the crowd in the mess. Quickly, she brought up a hand to her mouth and then whistled loudly. The room was filled with the high-pitched noise, and then fell silent as everyone quieted and turned to the young pilot. “Hey, cut it out,” Melissa said, sternly. “You're mortifying poor Dash over here,” she added, with a hand gesture to the embarrassed pegasus. “Honestly, the way you all are going on it's like you aren't even paying attention to the actual feelings of the ponies you're talking about.”

Silence met her statement, though from the looks on most of the faces it was more due to each person's chagrin at getting carried away. Melissa's parents, however, simply looked relieved, and after a moment James cleared his throat again. “Alright, enough of this,” he stated. “Franz, just delete the pictures.”

“Doesn't matter now,” Rainbow Dash muttered, albeit loud enough to garner everyone's attention. “You all know, and even if you try to keep it secret it'll still get out,” she added, and then sighed. “These things always do.”

Another moment of silence welcomed that statement, albeit briefly. “C'mon,” Melissa said, as she lightly patted Rainbow's withers. “Let's just eat some breakfast, and then after that we can delete those pictures and then pummel Franz until he lets us paint the Commando hot pink.”

“Hey!” Mendoza exclaimed, as most of the beings in the room chuckled. “Don't make this personal, now.”

Melissa gave him a raspberry in reply, and at this even Dash had to chuckle. “Breakfast does sound good,” the mare admitted. Then a thought entered her head, and her eyes widened. “You have bacon, right?” she hopefully asked.

A round of laughter met that question. “Of course we have bacon for breakfast!” Carmine replied. “C'mon over and let's eat,” he added with a wave.

Rainbow's mood lightened at that, as did the general feeling around the room as breakfast resumed, albeit now with an undercurrent of amusement. James and Rebecca sat back down, while Mendoza and Melissa went over to take the last two empty seats available. Rainbow Dash, for her part, walked over to the end of the long table and sat down upon her haunches on the bare floor, and then waited patiently while Melissa called out to the single Heart of Steel crewwoman taking her turn at running the ship's tiny galley. “Three more plates please, Betty.”

“I heard, I heard,” the thirtysomething crew member replied, as she walked out with two plates already made. “Here's the first two, I'll get to work on the third right now,” she added, as she placed the two meals in front of Melissa and Rainbow.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Mendoza asked, with a tone of false irritation.

“No, you're an asshole,” Betty replied, as she turned to head back to the galley amidst a round of chuckles at her comment. “And that means you can wait your turn.”

Mendoza grumbled at that, but he otherwise remained silent. Meanwhile, both Melissa and Rainbow Dash turned to their respective meals, and while the human used the usual flatware, Dash simply leaned in and delicately picked up one of the strips of crispy meat with her mouth, and then slowly started to chew. The savory flavor filled her mouth, and the pegasus closed her eyes and she concentrated on making the morsel last. It was all too soon, however, when she had ground the flesh to mush and swallowed it. Pigs, why are you so tasty? Dash asked herself, as she opened her eyes.

...Only to see several of the humans abruptly snap their eyes away from her. “What?” Rainbow asked, confused. “You guys aren't still weirded out about me eating meat, are you?” she added, and then froze as another idea entered her mind. Dash sighed, and then lightly face-hoofed. “You're still thinking about petting me,” she stated.

“Just a bit,” Carmine replied, with a grin. “It's only human nature to be curious about something we've heard about, but haven't tried yet.”

Dash was unamused. “So you guys are going to keep thinking about it until you get to try it?” she asked, and then waited as several humans nodded at her. She rolled her eyes at that, and then shook her head. As she did, however, an idea entered the pegasus' mind, and Rainbow suddenly smirked a bit. “Okay, let's make a deal, then.”

“A deal?” Carmine asked, as he and most of the others gave their full attention to the mare.

“Yeah,” Rainbow replied. “I'll... let you guys pet me,” she said, as she blushed a bit. “Let you get it out of your systems and stuff, but only if you don't bug me about it ever again. Also, it'll cost you a piece of bacon each.” She smiled as she added the second part of her toll. “I've gotta keep my energy up, after all.”

Another round of hearty chuckles sounded. “Fair enough,” Carmine said, and then quickly moved a hand to leave his offering on Dash's plate. “I'll wait until after you're done eating, though,” he added, and then glanced to the mechwarrior still waiting on his own meal. “I may be an asshole, but I'm not a Lyran asshole.”

“Better Lyran than a noob from some jerkwater planet no one's even heard of before,” Mendoza countered. He also added in a specific finger gesture for good measure.

“We're in the deep, Deep Periphery,” Carmine replied, somewhat airily. “Besides, we've had our own problems and wars over the past few hundred years to keep us busy, and that was even before E-day gave everyone the royal screwjob.”

Mendoza scoffed. “You and your alien stories,” he groused.

“Yeah yeah,” Carmine replied, with a wave of his hand. “No one believes me, I know. Still doesn't mean it didn't happen.”

“You know,” the familiar, deep voice of James McKenna cut in from all the way at the other end of the table. “If you guys fought as well as you bitched, we'd have conquered half o' the Inner Sphere by now,” he added, and then smirked as several chuckles were had at the expense of Mendoza and Carmine. “Now, let's all get back to breakfast; we've gotta get this place ready for our visitors, after all.”

* * * *

Twilight Sparkle felt her spirits lift a bit as she and her friends were led out through the main gate. Partly this was due to the fact that they left the wounded Canterlot behind, and all the depressing implications of seeing the capitol of Equestria in such a state. Mainly, however, it was due to the dual facts that the Heart of Steel stood a moderate distance away, and waiting patiently near it was princess Luna and several guardsponies. I'm so glad she's safe, Twilight thought, as she had spent the Second Battle of Canterlot trying to keep her brother from dying, and so had not been present upon its conclusion. The fact that the Griffons had deliberately targeted both princesses had sent the unicorn into a state of near-panic for a while, and Twilight found her anxiety fading to see that Luna was in one piece.

The sentiment seemed to be mutual, as the night princess smiled warmly at the approaching group. “Greetings to thee, mine friends,” she said, as Lewis and Trade Wind brought their charges to a halt in front of the diarch. “And to thee as well, corporal, miss Lewis” she added, with a nod to each of the aforementioned soldiers.

“Thank you, your highness,” Twilight replied, as she and the other ponies bowed.

Lewis did not, they noticed, though Luna apparently ignored the perceived lack of respect as she saw the human looking around keenly, her hands gripping the Thunderstroke Gauss rifle she used as her main weapon. “Is something the matter, miss Lewis?” the princess asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“Just scanning, your highness,” Lewis replied. “Had a bit of an issue at the station, and I'm feeling paranoid.”

“An issue?” Luna asked, perturbed. “Speak of it.”

“Miss Lewis detected and apprehended a Changeling infiltrator, your grace,” Trade Wind interjected. His statement garnered a small set of gasps from his fellow guardsponies waiting with the princess. “Somehow it got past one of the scanning stations, but apparently the humans' technology lets them see through the Changelings' disguise.”

“Verily?” Luna asked, in a surprised tone, and then turned to the armored human. “Pray tell, miss Lewis, how is this accomplished without magic?”

“My suit is equipped with what we call a 'Beagle Active Probe' system,” Lewis replied. “I admit I'm not up on all the technical specifics, but to put it simply, it's a suite of advanced sensors tied into a highly advanced learning computer that constantly compares incoming information with previous datafiles. Any discrepancy is measured and analyzed and then compared to other disguise and camouflage attempts on record, and the computer makes a new set of observations and scans to detect whether the discrepancy is merely coincidence or an attempt to hide something by building a composite picture.” The human paused at that, and then shrugged her shoulders. “I'm not sure what my computer saw that made it focus in on that thing, but it painted a fuzzy outline of something ugly over a pony and called my attention to it. I decided to get close, and the closer I got the more the whole thing cleared up.” Lewis paused at that, and then shuddered enough for her suit to match the movement. “Also, the damn thing gave me the willies something awful, even before miss Sparkle neutralized its disguise.”

The ponies around her gave Lewis a long, confused look before Applejack spoke up. “That was th' 'simple' version?” she asked.

“The complex version has a lot of math,” Lewis replied. “Also, it's boring.”

“Fascinating,” Twilight Sparkle said, as her mind caught up. “So the computer actually learns and gains experience?”

“In a way,” Lewis replied, with a nod. “It's limited to only what it's programmed to look for, and the version built into my suit can't 'see' as far as a vehicle or 'mech version since it lacks the raw scanning power and larger computer matrix to make use of sketchier data. Hermes has a longer-range BAP loaded into his Firestarter, though; that's how we knew you guys were coming when we met in that forest.”

“Astounding,” Luna interjected. “Mayhaps it is possible to replicate such an article?” she asked, hopefully. “Changelings art clever creatures, and their infiltration attempts can go unnoticed if the unicorn scanning for them doth not have the sheer magical strength to pierce their shroud.”

“Uh, probably not here,” Lewis replied, evenly. “The tech is really advanced, so much so that we lost the ability to build them for a couple of centuries 'til the Helm Memory Core was discovered. And even when we couldn't build them, our tech was still a heckuva lot higher than what you've got here.”

“I see,” Luna said, her voice dropping a bit in disappointment. She thought for a moment, and then sighed. “Well, we could spend this day 'til the morrow discussing this, but I believe we are late for breakfast.”

“Indeed you are,” a new voice sounded from the direction of the human ship. The group turned as one and saw Johannes Schneider standing at the base of one of the Steel's access ramps; the only one lowered at the moment. “What's this about our scanner technology?” he asked, as the various ponies—and Lewis—moved forward to join him.

“I'll tell you when I tell the commander,” Lewis replied. “ASAP.”

Schneider raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked, doubtfully.

“It's important, Hermes,” Lewis replied, somewhat forcefully, but still with respect to her superior. “This place just lost some of its pretty luster.”

“Alright,” Schneider replied, with a nod. “We're going to see the commander in the mess, anyway, so come along,” he said, and then turned to bow towards princess Luna. “Also, my apologies for not greeting you properly, your majesty.”

Luna waved a hoof. “Accepted, mister Schneider,” she evenly replied. “Miss Lewis is right to impress upon you the urgency of the matter. I wouldst like to be with you all myself when the issue is discussed, so we may share information about an old enemy of the principality.”

Schneider sighed at that. “Great, more things trying to kill us,” he muttered, and then shook his head. “Ah, well, let's get going to the mess before miss Dash eats all the bacon,” he added, as he waved the pony entourage to follow him up the ramp.

Luna frowned at that. “Bacon?” she asked, confused. “Pray tell, what be this 'bacon' you speak of?”

“Oh I'm sure it's nothing,” Twilight Sparkle interjected, with her tone and expression both nervous. “By the way, princess, have you seen inside the ship yet?” she asked as the party moved up the curved embarkation ramp.

Luna gave Twilight a sidelong, flummoxed look, but decided to let the odd interruption drop. “Nay, I hath not yet had time,” she replied, evenly. “The attack yesterday took much attention... to...” her voice trailed off as the party entered the main 'mech bay, and then halted when Luna stopped to look around. Unlike when the Steel was grounded outside of Ponyville, the 'mech bays on the lower level were all full, all of them having been recalled in the night so their pilots could get some rest.

The princess had, of course, seen the various war machines outside the palace, both moving and still, but the strain of the battle, followed by the cleanup and organization efforts afterward had distracted her, and made the sight of such grand machines almost unreal. Now, however, these same machines were dwarfed and ensconced by the various gantries and other support infrastructure, and seeing them thus drove home the sheer scale of not only the bipedal machines, but also of the effort it took to build, maintain, and repair them. And to build a ship such as this, to move them across the stars, Luna thought, as she looked around at the various accoutrements of 31st century technology. “I am impressed,” the alicorn finally said, as she turned her head to look at Schneider. “'Tis a wonder I stand in, I feel.”

Schneider gave her a polite smile. “Believe it or not, the Heart of Steel isn't that special,” he said, as he waved the group to follow him again. “She's a Union-class dropship, and about six thousand of those have been built in the Inner Sphere over the last three-hundred seventy years since the design was introduced.”

“Truly?” Luna asked, in surprise. “Thousands of these ships, moving in the space between worlds?”

“Yes, and not just this class,” Schneider replied. “There are hundreds of other designs in common and even rare use, some older than even the Steel herself.”

“This particular ship is over three-hundred years old, your highness,” Twilight Sparkle interjected. “It's a piece of history, still moving on its own power despite the centuries.”

“Astounding,” was all Luna could say, as the large group came to the lift.

* * * *

Rainbow Dash sighed contentedly, as she lay on a blanket someone had retrieved for her to lie upon as she rested on the floor. “Okay,” she admitted, and then closed her eyes as she felt fingers rubbing through her mane and along the base of her ears. “I could get used to this.”

Alexis Shepard laughed lightly at that, as she sat cross-legged on the floor next to the mare. “You sure about that?” she asked, as she moved her hands down to rub the pegasus' neck. “You seemed rather adverse to the idea earlier.”

“That's 'cuz the only times I ever got petted by Melissa was when I was feeling bad,” Dash replied, as shifted her head a bit on the blanket. “I didn't realize it's so much better when you're not worried about monsters and being shot or eaten.”

Shepard chuckled, as she returned her hands to Dash's ears. “So you're no longer worried about being treated like a dog?” she asked.

“If dogs get treated like this, then they've got it better than anypony ever realized,” Rainbow replied. Then she let out a pleased little groan as Shepard rubbed the top of her head. “Oh yeah, right there.”

“I feel like I should be recording this for a gentleman's holovid,” the snarky voice of Carmine came from one of the seats. “I can see the box blurb now: 'hot and heavy petting action!'” he said, as he held up his hands and fingers to make an imaginary frame.

“Up yours, Dorian,” Shepard retorted. “Besides, you've had your turn; shouldn't you have something better to do now?”

“What, and miss the adorable?” Carmine replied, the usual grin plastering his face as Dash blushed. “Sitting here is doing wonders for my cold, black heart.”

“As if you still had one,” a new voice intruded, and heads turned to see Silva standing in the doorway. “And also, I think it's my turn by now, isn't it?” he asked, with a hopeful grin.

Shepard sighed. “Yeah, yeah,” she said, as she promptly stood. “I should really check out my ride, anyway; as much as I trust the techs, I don't like it when they mess with my weapon settings.” She paused to stretch a bit at that, and then waved to Rainbow. “Take care, miss Dash.”

“You too,” Rainbow replied, as the human female smiled and then turned to leave the room.

In her place walked Silva, albeit he moved a bit more cautiously. “So, uh,” he said, sounding nervous. “Bad time?”

Rainbow raised an eyebrow at him, but soon gave him a smile. “Nah,” she said, and then turned to stretch out over the blanket she lied upon. “I've got nothing to do 'til somepony comes along and tells me what to do, anyway,” she said, and then stretched her wings out. “So just sit down and do whatever.”

Silva glanced to Carmine at that. “Not a word from you, Dorian,” the former said.

“Can't a guy be a pervert these days without being called out on it?” Carmine replied, and then chuckled. “In any case, I'm just here to absorb the ambiance of adorable. And to hand off lady Dash's ill-gotten gains,” he added, as he took a piece of bacon off of Rainbow's plate and then lowered it to the pegasus' head.

“You paid fair and square and you know it,” Dash countered, though she immediately snapped the piece out of the human's hand. She then hummed to herself as she chewed on the morsel, and closed her eyes to further savor it.

“Now's a good time to get started,” Carmine said, directing his words to Silva. “Both Alexis and Earl found it easier while she's distracted at first.”

“'M not dat distac'ted,” Rainbow muttered through a full mouth. She then swallowed her food and glanced up at Silva. “Seriously, just start with the ears. Everyone else seems to like it.”

“And you don't?” Carmine asked, even as Silva moved to sit down next to Dash.

“I never said I didn't,” Rainbow protested, and then smirked. “I'm just saying—ooohh,” she muttered, as Silva began his ministrations around the base of her ears. “Wow, now that's different,” Dash added, as she felt the human move each of his fingers independently of one another.

Silva couldn't help but chuckle. “Glad you like it,” he said, even as he moved one hand to pet it down the length of Rainbow's eponymous mane. “Any places that are off-limits? Besides the obvious, I mean.”

“Nothing over my back legs,” Dash replied, almost absentmindedly as she closed her eyes again in pleasure. “That's... private.”

“Oh?” Silva asked, even as he used one hand to rub the pegasus' neck. Then he thought about it, and his hands froze for a moment. “Ooohh,” he added, in understanding.

“Yeah,” Rainbow replied, with a blush as she opened her eyes to look at the mechwarrior sitting at her side. “Dorian here kinda didn't know that.”

“Hey, I stopped when you told me to,” Carmine replied, this time with all seriousness. “I know you're not a dog or anything, but they tend to like the spot over their tails getting rubbed.”

“Probably a reason for that, if you think about it,” Rainbow replied, as she lowered her head to rest it on her crossed forelegs. “Anyway, David, just don't go too far past the wings and you'll be good.”

“Oh?” Silva asked, even as he moved his hands and then pressed them down over the part of Rainbow's back between her wings and then began to rub. “Even here?”

“Oooohh, thaaaat's just fiiiine,” Dash replied, as she abruptly brought her head back up and then let her jaw hang open. “Use your nails, I loved it when Alexis did that.”

“Mayhaps this is a bad time to speak with thee, Rainbow Dash?”

The cool, musical tones of the questioner's voice washed over the room, and the regal nature in which the question was asked gave pause to all three of the rooms inhabitants, though this was broken a split-second later as Dash's wings snapped out in panic mode and slapped Silva in the face. “Ow!” the human grunted, as he rubbed his face.

Dash ignored his protest, however, as she jumped to her hooves, turned around and then knelt down towards the doorway, where princess Luna stood, while Schneider and several of the pegasus' friends were seen in the hallway beyond. “Er, no, your highness!”

“Art thou sure?” Luna asked, with a raised eyebrow. “Ye seemed to be rather... busy,” she added, with an unsure look.

“Oh, uh,” Dash said, as she rose, a profound blush overtaking her features. “I was, uh, I mean—”

“Miss Dash was helping us with some relaxation techniques,” Carmine interjected, as he stood, and then bowed to the princess. He then gave Silva, who was still sitting on the floor, a swift kick, which prompted the younger man to stand and follow the Periphery native's lead. “Big day, you know, all sorts of nerves wracking us from one end to the other.”

“Indeed,” Luna said, flatly. “And pray tell, how does administering... whatever that was, to miss Dash helpful towards thyself?”

Carmine grinned at that; a look that instantly drove fear into the hearts of all who knew him. “Well, it's rather simple,” he explained. “Humans find it very relaxing and stress-relieving to pet and show affection towards furry quadrupeds.”

Rainbow face-hoofed at that and groaned. Silva looked embarrassed, and Luna blinked as a tinge of red appeared on her cheeks. “'Pet'?” she asked. When Carmine and Silva nodded, and Dash refused to uncover her face, the princess looked back and to the side. “Is this true, mister Schneider?”

“Uhm, yes, actually,” Schneider replied, a blush tinging his own face as well. “While humans are the only animals in our reality to achieve sapience—that we know of—we domesticated a significant number of other species that proved instrumental to the conquest of our homeworld. As a result, a genetic predisposition towards treating non-sapient helper animals with care was selected for in our evolution.”

“What he means to say,” Carmine interjected. “Is that people who took care of their animals tended to live longer and better, so they had more kids, yadda yadda yadda,” he added, with a wave of his hand. “So we humans tend to look out after our animals and keep them healthy and groomed and such.”

“Ah,” Luna said, with a look of understanding on her face. “A symbiotic relationship, then? You take care of your animal assistants, and in turn they are more fit and able to provide you with the help you require of them?”

“Yes, your highness,” Schneider replied, instantly garnering the princess' attention. “Although we wield control and power over the species we've domesticated, the responsible ones of us recognize that we in turn owe it to them to protect and care for them and continue their species. Thus humans and non-sapient animals often form strong bonds that can only be exceeded by true friendship and the like.”

“Fascinating,” Luna said, and then turned her head to look over the room's occupants again. “But, if it is with thine animals thou feels a bond, why wouldst thou find a similar response in... grooming... a pony?” she asked, carefully, as she tried not to tread too hard on Rainbow's tattered ego.

“Because although you're not animals, you look a lot like horses from back home,” Carmine answered. “Horses were one of our greatest assets and helpers for most of our pre-spaceflight history, and until we developed industrialization and mechanized vehicles they were the primary means of transportation of both persons and goods across the land.”

“That's... true,” Schneider added, a bit of surprise in his voice at how articulate Carmine had been. He then shook his head and continued with a more controlled tone. “What Dorian says is right: your people are in the same general shape and share many attributes with such creatures back home, and so we're all predisposed to wanting to behave towards you as if you were them.

“However, you're also talking, sapient beings,” Schneider hastened to add. “Which brings into the account the usual feelings we have towards others, so we tend to view you as 'human' as well.”

“And then add in the fact that you're just plain adorable, well, that makes us just want to be all kinds of friendly towards you,” Carmine said, with a grin.

A silence fell over the scene at those words. It lasted for a few, awkward moments before Luna cleared her throat. “I... see,” she said, and then slowly backed out of the room. “Well, I believe I hath learned much here...” Perhaps too much, she thought. “Miss Dash, if thou would join our group, we should get the briefing room for the meeting with commander McKenna.

“Yes your highness,” Dash said, as she finally lowered her foreleg and then made a small bow to the princess. “I'll be right along behind you.”

“Very good,” Luna said, and then turned her head to Schneider. “Please, lead on.”

“With great pleasure, your ladyship,” Schneider replied, and then turned to lead the group off.

Not all followed the princess, however; while Twilight Sparkle simply paused to face-hoof, and then moved along, the other four ponies of their close circle all stood at the door, staring at Rainbow Dash. “What?” the cyan pegasus finally asked.

“Petted? Seriously?” Applejack asked, with a smirk. “Y'all won't let th' spa girls touch yer hooves, but you'll let humans pet ya like a dog?”

Rainbow's blush returned at that, though now it was joined by an irritated look. After a moment, however, a smile crept over her muzzle, and she shook her head to toss her mane back. “Hey, don't buck it 'til you've tried it,” she retorted, and then glanced to Silva. “I'm sure David here wouldn't mind giving you a bit of attention.”

Silva blinked, and then grinned as he caught a sidelong look from Dash. “Oh, indeed” he said, and then cracked his knuckles. “I've got all sorts of tricks just waiting to be used.”

The smug look on Applejack's face died at that, and she took a step back from the hatchway. “Er, no, that's okay, sugarcube,” she said, somewhat nervously. “Ah reckon Ah'm good.”

“Oooh! What about me?” Pinkie Pie asked, as she bounced up behind the other ponies and waved one of her forelegs in the air. “I wanna feel what it's like!”

“Uhm, excuse me,” the soft voice of Fluttershy interjected. Despite her lack of volume, the clear, beautiful tone of her voice managed to garner everyone's attention. “I wouldn't mind, uh, you know, to see what it's like,” she said, and then shuffled her hooves a bit and then ducked her head so that her mane covered some of her face. “That is, if you don't mind.”

“Well, that sounds all fine and dandy,” Carmine spoke up, with a genuine smile on his face. It faded a bit, though, as he shook his head. “But I don't think we have any time for that now.”

“Quite,” Rarity agreed. “While I'm curious about how such treatment might compare to a proper hoof massage at the spa, it would behoove us to rejoin the princess.”

“Hmm,” Carmine said, as an idea entered his head. Silva and Dash both shared a look of worry as the Periphery native spoke. “I've just had an idea.”

“Oh God, we're all gonna die,” Silva deadpanned.

“Don't be such a sissy,” Carmine retorted, and then grinned. “Just listen...”

* * * *

James Ian McKenna VII sighed as he covered his face with his good hand. “I can't take you people anywhere, can I?” he rhetorically asked, as he let the hand drop so he could look over the small briefing room.

It looked very much like crew's mess, only it lacked access to the closet-sized galley and had a dedicated holoprojector built into the table. Also unlike the mess, the walls were not painted a warm, friendly color, but instead were covered in a hue that was universally known as “battleship gray.” None of this was what was causing the commander grief, however, but rather it was the positions of several persons around the room. Specifically, several ponies with their back ends on one seat, and their front ends draped over the lap of one of the Dark Horse's mechwarriors. More specifically, it was Rarity, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash laying over Franz Mendoza, Tania Griffin, Dorian Carmine, and David Silva, respectively.

And they're petting the ponies, James thought. I don't know whether to feel mortified, or jealous. A look over the other seats at the table showed that the other ponies, at least, all looked as uncomfortable as he felt, save for princess Luna, who simply looked flummoxed. At least I'm not alone.

“You're just jealous you don't get a pony,” Carmine replied, addressing the commander's exasperated question, even as he roughly rubbed Pinkie's neck. The pink mare apparently appreciated the treatment, as she simply lay there and let her tongue hang out of her muzzle.

James sighed, and then turned towards Luna. “You have my deepest apologies for this ridiculous scene, your majesty,” he said, sincerely. “Had I known all of my troopers had taken leave of their senses, I would've had them served plain grits for breakfast.”

A round of groans came from the humans. “You're an evil, evil man for even suggesting that,” Earl Delacroix protested.

“It sounds fair to me,” Rebecca McKenna countered.

“Please, I think we should move on to our discussion,” Luna said, evenly. “As... odd as this is, it is not harming my subjects, and so I can overlook this... peculiar pastime.”

James sighed at that. “Very well,” he said, and then glanced over to Schneider. “Hermes, let's get this going before I decide to just walk my 'mech into the woods and put the reactor into overload.”

Schneider chuckled lightly at that, and then quickly went to work on the holoprojector controls. A map of the land between Canterlot and Manehattan popped into being, and icons of units were soon overlaid. “Alright, this is our latest map we've pieced together from pegasus scout reports,” Schneider said, and then paused. “You know, I would have never thought I'd say a line like that as little as a month ago.”

“Hermes,” James growled.

“Right,” Schneider said, and then shook himself a bit. “Okay, from what we've been told O'Connell has a force of griffons acting as a scout ring and skirmishing line, allowing him to keep his light 'mechs concentrated and make the best of their firepower.” Schneider punched a few buttons then, and a small cloud of red dots appeared over the units representing the Desperadoes. “In addition they're providing an umbrella of coverage to prevent any dive-bombing by pegasus guards.

“We also believe they have a small group of unicorns with them,” Schneider added, and then paused again to shake his head. “Why that is we can only guess, but I'd bet money some of them have either training from the royal guards or have some kind of talent that might come in handy on the battlefield.”

“I see,” Luna said, as she studied the map. Then she turned her head to regard James evenly. “Do you have a plan to deal with this?”

“We do, ma'am,” James replied. “But first, may I ask you something?”

Luna blinked at the sudden change, but soon nodded. “Of course, commander,” she replied. “I may not be able to answer, but I shall endeavor to try.”

James nodded back. “There is something that's been bugging me,” he began, and then shifted in his seat as he looked over the mares from Ponyville. “Captain Starbuck and miss Twilight Sparkle have told us a bit about the items you call the 'Elements of Harmony',” he said, and then returned his attention to the princess. “From what we hear, they have the potential to be a great weapon against any foe who threatens your nation. And I must ask, why you refrained from using it so far?”

The various ponies around the table all took on bemused looks at that. Soon enough, however, Luna recovered and nodded sagely to James. “A good question, but somewhat mislead,” she said, evenly. “The Elements of Harmony art powerful magical artifacts, not weapons. Their purpose is to restore a state of harmony, of balance and peace to something—or someone—who has lost it. While their effect may be construed as a weapon against a mortal foe, the Elements themselves tend to avoid using violence of any kind.

“As to why they have not been used on O'Connell and his forces, there are two reasons,” Luna continued. “The first is that being from outside our reality, we were unsure of how the Elements would react to you... if they did anything at all.” The night princess hesitated, and then gave an apologetic glance towards Fluttershy. “Secondly, and less important, one of the bearers was unable to serve her role until recently.”

Fluttershy blushed at that and ducked her head down into Griffin's lap. “S–sorry,” she whispered.

“'Tis nothing to be sorry for, lady Fluttershy,” Luna replied, earnestly. “Nopony blames you for being shocked beyond sense at seeing the horrors of war.”

“Your princess is right,” Griffin softly added, as she gently stroked the pegasus' mane behind her ears. “There's no shame in being afraid, especially now that you're past the worst of it.”

Fluttershy raised her head up at that, a blush over her features. “Th–thank you,” she said, with a glance between Luna and Griffin.

“Yes, well,” Schneider said, as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Good reasons as those are, I think the reason the commander is asking is that, while we're sure we've got a decent plan and we'll definitely give it our all... well, the plain fact is that we're still outnumbered four-to-one in terms of 'mechs,” he said, his voice lowering in tone. “None of us want to sound defeatist, but it would be prudent, perhaps, to prepare a backup plan.”

“I see,” Luna replied, and then paused for a moment. “That is certainly a wise precaution, and I have no intention of depending on you achieving a victory,” she said, and then looked up at James. “No offense.”

“None taken,” the elder McKenna replied, with a nod. “As Hermes said, prudent is prudent.”

“Indeed,” Luna agreed, and then sighed. “But now there is another reason that we may not employ the Elements, save as an absolute last resort.”

James frowned at that, which threatened to turn into a scowl as he saw a wave of surprise wash over the other ponies in the room. “What? Why?” Twilight Sparkle spoke up. “I mean, princess, why wouldn't we use the Elements immediately?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash chimed in. “In fact, why don't we go out and use them right now?”

Another moment of silence fell as Luna contemplated her answer. It dragged on longer than the last as the alicorn bit her lower lip, and then slowly shook her head. “As I said, the Elements restore harmony, whether to an individual, or a countryside, or to all of Equestria,” she began, slowly. “It is in their nature to remove disruptive components, and return the subject of their use to a harmonious state.”

“Wait,” Schneider interrupted, as he held up a hand to garner everyone's attention. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

Luna frowned, and then sighed again. “There is a chance that the Elements will remove all disruptive, alien factors... all of them,” she said, and then let those words hang in the air.

An oppressive silence fell over the room, and the temperature seemed to drop by several degrees. That's someone walking over my grave, alright, James thought. He took a long, slow look over the various beings seated around the table, and saw in their faces a mix of disbelief, horror, and shock. All save Luna, however, who simply looked sad and mournful. “You're saying... they might kill us?” James asked, slowly and quietly.

“By erasing you from the fabric of reality itself,” Luna confirmed. She then closed her eyes and lowered her head. “If it were just O'Connell and his soldiers, I would consider it... but having met you all, seen what you've done for my subjects, I find the idea distasteful in the extreme.” She returned her head to its normal position at that, and then looked James straight in the eyes. “I will not condemn an innocent to death just for a little security. At least, not yet,” she added, and then glanced to the side.

“But if we're about to lose everything anyway,” James continued for her. “You'll use those 'Elements' and save your people?” he asked.

“Aye,” Luna replied, as she returned her sad gaze to the commander.

James thought of this for a second, but soon found he already had an opinion. “Good,” he said, quietly, much to the surprise of the ponies in the room. The humans, however, simply took on grim countenances, and their features hardened as McKenna continued. “We're soldiers, your majesty: we don't want to die, but we will if it means protecting innocents,” he calmly explained. “Dying is part of the job, and we take our risks against it on every drop. I can't speak for the others here, but I can say that if I die in the service of what I consider sacred, then I'll be perfectly happy to meet my maker.” James leaned back in his seat at that, with only a bare wince as his injured arm protested the movement. “And what I value is the principles I was raised on, that my ancestors fought and died for, and that still have a purpose even today. That there is such a thing as right and wrong, good and evil, and that to oppose wrong and evil and fight the darkness they spread is a good and proper thing to do.

“So if you need to kill us to save your people from conquest, your majesty, please do so.” James paused at that, and then managed a lopsided grin. “Just... make sure it's actually a hopeless situation first; it would suck to die if all I had to do was fire one more shot.”

A round of muted chuckles sounded in the room as the gallows humor did its work and broke up the tension. Even Luna managed a weak smile, and she nodded to the human commander. “Thou art truly a knight,” she said, evenly.

James smiled back, and then shook his head. “As the song says, I 'ain't no splendid knight',” he replied. “I'm just doing the right thing.”

“As will we all,” Rebecca chimed in at his side, and a chorus of agreements rolled through the room from the other humans in response. “We can't promise victory. But we can promise we'll fight tooth and nail 'til the end.”

“So I see,” Luna said, quietly. She blinked her eyes a few times, and then bowed her head towards the two elder McKennas. “You honor us.”

“When you do the right thing, honor will always follow,” James replied.

“Verily,” Luna replied, as she brought her head back up. “Now, let us not speak of such dire measures unless they come to pass,” she added. “And let us hear your final plan, for time grows short.”

“Yes ma'am.”

Author's Notes:

Hah! Out before the year ended!

Yes, lots of boring exposition and junk. Whatever, I do what I want. BUT, epic battle action next chapter.

And since I've blatantly reveled Dorian's origins, I'm gonna run a little copy of Epic's poll: Does Carmine live, or die? You decide!

All other deaths are non-negotiable. Author does not make a guarantee of desired outcome, nor is a warranty expressed or implied towards satisfaction.

Also: those guys at DHX are reading my mind, man. First they have Dash sleeping just as I imagined her in "Sleepless in Ponyville", and now with "Spike At Your Service" we have AJ getting a back-scratch and reacting how I really imagine ponies would react. Dammit, DHX, I thought of those independently! Now everyone will think I stole them! CURSES TO THEE!

Bonus song.

Chapter 17 - Battalions of Steel

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Author's forenote: This chapter contains excessive amounts of headcanon. If you disagree with it, fine, please do so calmly. If you're going to whine and complain, p*ss off.

Some links to Sarna.net (a BattleTech wiki) are provided. Again, they are not required reading, just there for those who want a bit more information. Also a couple of songs, too.

DropShip Heart of Steel

Outside Canterlot, Equestria

September 25th, AD 3070/1023 RC

Princess Luna was deep in thought as she was led through the bowels of the humans' spacecraft. I know that Starbuck and Stonewall both approve of this plan, she thought. But it still troubles me to put my little ponies into such positions, even if it is only on a volunteer basis. She stifled a sigh at that, and paused her rumination briefly in order to follow a spoken instruction to stop just before the lift doors. Yet the work gone into these ideas is sound, and the logic reasonable, so how could I say no?

“Are you alright, your highness?” The question brought Luna out of her thoughts, and she blinked as she focused on the present and glanced over to see James McKenna giving her a concerned look. “You seem to be rather distracted.”

“Aye,” Luna replied, with barely a second of thought. “I am worried about the safety of those ponies who wish to volunteer for 'embedding', as you called it.”

James nodded to her as the lift rose in its passage. “I understand your qualms, princess, but please be assured that they will not be facing anything that the guard units with us won't encounter,” he explained, while Luna and the entourage behind them listened intently. “In fact, many of them will be behind modern armor composites.”

“I understand that,” Luna agreed, and then sighed. “But as thou hath mentioned, thine mechanized forces will be a prime target for the enemy,” she added, as she walked into the lift with James and two of her guards. A look from both of the leaders told their respective subordinates that a moment of privacy was desired, and no one else boarded the machine before the doors were closed and it began its descent.

“Yes, we will,” James replied to Luna, as they dropped below the lip of the deck. “And we both know I cannot promise that they'll be safe. All I can promise is that they'll be given a chance to add their own considerable talents to our pool of battlefield resources and, hopefully, help us achieve victory.”

“Verily,” Luna replied, as the upper 'Mech bay opened before her. “But my little ponies are not like your people,” she continued, as she glanced over some of the bipedal war machines receiving some last-minute attention. “They have not seen war, not true war. The battles so far have been grievous indeed, but they shall pale in comparison to a real fight between opposing armies.” She paused then, as the lift started to descend through the upper bay's deck. “I daresay that the mindless terror, the abject horror and soul-consuming pain of battle will be even worse with human machines at the fore.”

“I daresay you're probably right,” James morosely agreed. “Unfortunately we're just plain out of options, and time is ticking.”

“Indeed,” Luna concurred. “Yet such inevitability doth not ease my mind.”

“No,” James said, quietly. “I suppose it wouldn't.” They both fell silent at that, thought it was short-lived as the lift reached the lower 'Mech bay, and the elevator's riders stared out at an incredulous scene. “What the Hell is he doing?” James asked, in shock.

Luna frowned as she peered out across the open bay, though the expression soon gave way to one of stunned confusion. “He doth appear to be playing 'fetch' with the manticore,” she wryly observed. Even as the group aboard the lift looked on, the armored figure who'd caught their eyes threw a soft, white object towards the side of the bay, which the aforementioned creature promptly jumped into flight in order to snatch the object out of mid-air with its jaws.

“IVAN!” James shouted, the suddenness startling the ponies in the lift with him. The commander quickly opened the gate once the lift reached the main deck, and he stormed out and over towards where the larger human was now petting the manticore, while the latter chewed on the item it had fetched. “What in the name of all that is holy are you doing?”

The infantryman looked over to James as the latter approached and spoke. “Playing with Mister Nibbles,” he said, matter of factly.

“In full armor kit?” James asked, incredulous. “And is that a piece of myomer? As in the preciously expensive and scarce myomer that we need to keep our 'mechs working?”

Although dressed in his power armor, Ivan had left his helmet sitting on a nearby shipping container, and so James could easily make out the unworried expression on the larger man. “Mister Nibbles likes to be rough,” Ivan replied easily, as he reached out a hand to lightly pet the manticore while the beast continued to chew on the soft polymer composite. “And mister McCoy said Ivan could use bad muscle.”

James' eye ticked at that, and he spent a moment to take a deep, calming breath. “Alright then,” he quietly said, and then paused for another deep breath. “McCoy!” he shouted, after having turned to look over the 'mech bay. “Where the Hell are you, you drunken Scot?”

“Ach, what do ye want?” the familiar voice of McCoy shouted back, as the elder human stuck his head over the railing of the upper deck. “I've got enough o' yer problems tae fix as it is, last thing I need is another blasted interruption!”

James snapped his head up as soon as the chief tech started talking, and waited for the elder man to finish before he pointed to the manticore with his good hand. “If you didn't want an interruption, then why the flip did you let Ivan's pet have a piece of irreplaceable technology?”

“It was that, or he'd be up here botherin' me for somethin' else for that buggering chimera o' his,” McCoy shot back. “An' if that's all yer whinin' about, I'm getting' back tae work!” And with that, the technician withdrew his head from is position, and subsequently himself from the conversation.

An eye twitched on the commander's face, and he turned around to storm off towards the large, curving ramp that lead to the upper bay for 'mechs to move between decks. James paused briefly, and then shot a glance towards Ivan. “Don't destroy anything else 'til I get back,” he ordered, and then resumed his angry march once the larger man gave a simple nod.

Luna watched the entire scene with an odd feeling of detachment, as if she were viewing some strange theater production. Curious are these humans, she mused. The sound of the lift behind her brought the princess out of her thoughts, and she turned her head back in time to see a second load of humans and ponies standing in the powered conveyance.

One pony in particular was stunned by the appearance of the large beast in the 'mech bay. “Is that a manticore?” Fluttershy asked, as the lift gate was opened. She did not wait for an answer, though, and instead dashed out into the open bay and took to the air to quickly close the distance between her and Ivan and his new friend. The manticore, a fierce beast in the wild and even more fearsome as a tamed war mount for griffons, tensed as she rapidly approached, yet relaxed as the pegasus gently reached out and started to pet it behind the ears. “Aww, you're so cute!” Fluttershy cooed.

Then again, some ponies are just as unfathomable as any human, Luna amended, and then waited as Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Johannes Schneider all walked over. “Methinks I shall never understand the mindset of dear Fluttershy, who cowers from ponies yet approaches beasts with confidence,” she observed, as the others came up beside her and looked on the scene of the aforementioned pony and Ivan both attending to the surprisingly docile manticore.

“She really likes animals,” Rainbow Dash replied, with a shrug of her wings. “Hay, after seeing Ivan work with Mister Nibbles, I can start to understand how she might find the thing interesting.”

Twilight frowned at the exchange. “'Mister Nibbles'?” she asked.

“Apparently, 'tis the beast's name,” Luna wryly replied, with a raised eyebrow. “And I find I am fearful to delve into the reason of it.”

Schneider sighed at that and entered the conversation. “Probably better that way, your highness,” he observed. “Ivan operates on another plane of thought that I'm not entirely convinced isn't a form of insanity.”

A moment of thoughtful silence met that remark, though it was brief. “How th' hay did he tame that thing, anyway?” Applejack asked, as she squinted one eye at the strange scene in an attempt to discern its secrets.

“Hell if I know,” Schneider replied, with a shrug. “Let's go ask,” he added, and then started off towards the three figures standing at the feet of the Dark Horse's Centurion.

The ponies behind him all blinked in surprise and hesitated out of apprehension; even princess Luna seemed leery of approaching the manticore. Finally, though, Rainbow Dash just shook her head and silently trotted off to follow, which prompted the others to do so as well. They moved a bit faster on four legs than humans did on two, and so caught up to Schneider as he warily stopped a good meter and a half away from the trio occupying his attention. “Hey, Ivan?” Johannes asked, and then waited for the larger man to give him his attention. Once assured this was the case, Schneider just waved a hand at the manticore. “How?”

Ivan raised an eyebrow at the smaller man, but soon his face was split by a wide grin. “Ivan's cousin work for Canopian pleasure circus,” he explained. “He wrestle bears for show. Make good money.”

“So, he taught ya how ta wrassal bears?” Applejack asked, curious.

“Indeed, Applejack,” Ivan replied, even as he reached out to add a few pets to Fluttershy's ministrations to the purring creature. “Cousin Zangief teach Ivan how to listen to animals and to see how they act, so they listen to you, yes?” he asked, and then grinned. “Cousin Zangief also teach Ivan how to crush man's head between his thighs like sparrow's egg. Is good thing to know if caught in street fight.”

A series of hard blinks met this proclamation, followed immediately by everyone taking a step back. “Well, okay then,” Schneider said, his tone uneasy. “Uhm, carry on,” he added, with a gesture towards Mister Nibbles, who was purring as Fluttershy continued to pet its mane with a hoof.

“Da,” Ivan agreed, and then turned to face the mercenary company's newest “acquisition”. “Come on, Nibbles,” he said, which prompted the manticore to look up at him. “We go for walkies.”

The beast almost beamed at that, and it swiftly and surely moved to its paws. It barely took a moment to stretch before it sauntered off after Ivan, who led it towards the ramp to the outside. Schneider and the ponies watched the odd pair go, and one in particular sighed wistfully. “It's so nice that Ivan decided to take care of the manticore,” Fluttershy observed. “It was sad having to work for the griffons.”

Schneider gave her a curious look. “How could you possibly know that?” he asked.

“He told me,” Fluttershy replied, in a matter-of-fact tone.

“The manticore told you?” Schneider asked, and then held his tongue as Fluttershy nodded in response. Slowly, the human took in a deep breath, and then let it out. “Okay, I think I've had enough of... this sort of thing for today,” he muttered, and then turned to give Luna his full attention. “Unless there is anything else you require my presence for, your majesty, I'd like to go and see to the preparations we've discussed.”

Luna gave the human a sympathetic look and a nod. “'Tis fine, mister Schneider. I believe we shall wait for commander McKenna to return,” she replied. “Please give my regards to your, technical staff, I believed you called them?” she asked.

“Yes, your highness,” he replied, and gave a nod. “I'll do that; I'm sure it will give them a morale boost after all they've done to prepare everything for the coming fight.” He gave a little bow, and then turned and walked off towards his 'mech.

“Well, that was interesting,” Luna wryly observed, and then turned her head to look over the nearby ponies. “Is it mine imagination, Twilight Sparkle, or doth it seem like reality is skewed inside this vessel?” she asked, a hint of sarcasm coloring her tone.

“More than you know, princess,” Twilight replied, sotto voce, as she glanced over at Rainbow Dash.

The look did not go unnoticed. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?” Dash asked, offended.

“Nothing,” Twilight replied, with a roll of her eyes away from the pegasus.

“Ladies,” Luna interjected. Both arguing ponies turned their attention to the princess and cringed slightly under her stern gaze. “Pray tell, what has driven you to cross words?”

Twilight and Rainbow both blushed at the question, glanced to each other, and then looked off to each side. “Uh, nothing?” Rainbow Dash sheepishly offered, as she slowly turned her head back to face the alicorn.

Luna frowned at the pegasus. “It cannot be nothing, if this is how thou acts when pressed,” she stated. “If there is something betwixt thee, then now is the time to air it out. The enemy closes in and if thou paid attention, then thou knows that the Elements, no matter how much we wish not to use them, must be available as a last resort.” She paused for effect, and then spread her wings to emphasize her next words. “Equestra herself depends and you and your bond of friendship. You know this and yet you bicker; I must ask why.”

A split second passed before Twilight and Rainbow shared a look. “Well, uh, you see,” Dash began, but was soon interrupted.

“You read my report about general human physiology, right?” Twilight asked, hopeful. “Granted I know you're quite busy, princess, but did you at least skim over their... diet?”

Luna raised an eyebrow as she folded her wings back against her sides. “Aye, I read the report,” she said, slowly. “Pray tell, how doth it apply here?”

“Uh, well,” Dash took over, hesitantly. “I, uh, kinda didn't know about that when I started helping the tech guys, and mister McCoy left some of his breakfast uneaten one morning, and he said I could have it,” she explained, even as a blush crept over her face. “And... it was meat. And I liked it. A lot. Annnnd I've kinda been eating it every day since.”

Silence fell over the group after this admission, as the other ponies gazed at Rainbow Dash with varying looks. Applejack looked shocked, Fluttershy seemed concerned, and Twilight Sparkle had a mix of embarrassment and chagrin.

Princess Luna, however, simply stared at Rainbow Dash with an entirely unfathomable expression upon her face, perfectly still save for the movement of her ethereal mane. The silence stretched on as Dash's friends slowly turned their attentions to the princess and awaited her reaction, and the pegasus in question began to shuffle her legs a bit. Just as the quiet started to become awkward, however, Luna broke the tableau and slowly walked forward until she stood right in front of Dash. There she paused for a moment and looked down at her subject. “Hold still,” she commanded, her voice calm and soft, yet with an undercurrent of iron. Then she abruptly lowered her head, pushed her nose through Dash's mane, and then pressed it against her forehead, whereupon she began to delicately sniff.

Rainbow's blush deepened in an almost exponential manner as the seconds ticked away, and though she held to Luna's order and remained still while the alicorn sniffed her head, she nevertheless cast her eyes about in confusion. Her friends had no answers for her, however, as they all looked as surprised as she, and in Fluttershy's case wore a blush that matched Dash's own. Okay, this is too weird, Rainbow thought, and then opened her mouth to protest.

Before she could vocalize, however, Luna brought her head up and then took a few steps back to look over the pegasus; her expression was calm, but her eyes were piercing. “Hmm,” she hummed, and then nodded once to herself. “Twilight Sparkle,” she said, and then looked over to her sister's protegé. “Thou attests as in thy report that the animals the humans consume were not intelligent?”

The question startled Twilight out of her shock, and she nodded. “Yes, princess,” she replied, quickly. “They have ample documentation on common animals from their worlds, and the ones they... consume, are not even close to sapient.”

“Then what is the problem?” Luna asked. “As... unsettling as Rainbow Dash's continued consumption of meat might be, if it is not hurting any thinking being then it should not be a problem betwixt you two.”

A blush to match the ones worn by Rainbow and Fluttershy crept over Twilight's face. “It's... just... she...” the unicorn stuttered. After a moment she closed her eyes, and then sighed. “It's just so strange, princess.”

“I understand,” Luna evenly replied. “But is it truly such a terrible thing that you would let it interfere in your friendship?”

“I...” Twilight began, though soon fell silent for a moment as she thought. “No... no, it isn't,” she said to Luna, and then turned to face Rainbow. “I'm sorry, Dash. I didn't mean for this to become such an issue.”

Rainbow grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of her head with a hoof. “Ah, it's okay, Twilight,” she said, friendlily. “I know it's really weird,” she added, and then paused to glance over to Luna. “Though not as weird as some things.”

Luna simply raised a single eyebrow in return, but said nothing and kept her visage neutral. Dash mentally shrugged at that, and then returned her attention to Twilight. “Anyway, let's just forget about it, okay?” she asked, and then extended her raised hoof towards the unicorn.

Twilight smiled at that and reached out herself to shake the proffered limb. “Sure,” she replied. “Just... try not to do that sort of thing near me, okay?”

Dash raised an eyebrow even as she lowered her hoof to the deck. “It bothers you that much?” she asked. “I mean c'mon, Twi, there's nothing wrong with it. Heck, you should even try some yourself.”

The smile disappeared off of Twilight's face as she blanched at the suggestion. “I... I don't really think that—”

“An excellent idea,” Luna interjected, much to everypony's surprise. “It would be an illuminating experience, methinks.”

The other ponies just gave her a strange look—save her two guards, who stood a fair distance away and maintained their traditional stone-faced expressions. “Are you alright, Luna?” Twilight asked, with a raised eyebrow. Although she did not often speak to the princesses so informally, she felt it was warranted here. “I mean, you're saying that I actually try to eat... meat?”

“Twas merely a suggestion,” Luna replied, her tone and expression as steady as ever. The looks she got in return, though, bid her to move to another topic, and so she looked around almost casually. “By the bye, why have we not seen more of our group?” she asked, genuinely concerned. “Where are the ladies Rarity and Pinkie Pie?”

“And where's the Dark Horse guys?” Dash asked, looking just as perplexed. “Shouldn't they be—” Her words died in her throat as movement to the side caught her eyes, and she turned her head to see the elevator making another trip down with a load of humans. “Huh, I guess that answers that,” she half-muttered.

And then her eyes widened in fear as something new entered her mind. “Where's Dorian?” She asked herself, and then abruptly took to the air and flew over to meet the group of mechwarriors as they moved away from the lift. Surprised at this sudden shift in attention, the ponies Rainbow Dash left behind shared a look of confusion. Then Luna lifted her wings in a shrug and then trotted off after the flighty pegasus, which prompted the others to follow.

They approached just as Shepard finished speaking to Dash: “...Said something about 'taking care of loose ends' and then went off towards the mess.”

Rainbow's eyes widened even as her irises shrunk. “My bacon,” she muttered, and then narrowed her eyes even as she unfurled her wings. “Dorian...” she growled out, and then snapped her wings down hard and propelled herself into the air. There she turned and accelerated rapidly to leave only a rainbow afterimage in the eyes of those who watched.

Luna blinked as she saw the trail lead over the edge of the upper 'mech bay deck only to disappear over the lip. The sound of startled alarms and metal slamming into metal, though, told her that Rainbow Dash's passage was not uneventful. “What could warrant such a disregard for safety?” the night princess speculated.

“Supposedly, the best food she's ever tasted,” Twilight Sparkle answered.

“Bacon is pretty darn good,” Shepard interjected, while her compatriots moved off to either side and headed towards their personal destinations; their amusement at Rainbow's reaction was notable. “Also, Dorian is a jerk, so Dash is justified in worrying about her little hoard.”

“'Hoard'?” Luna echoed, with a confused visage.

“Yeah,” Shepard replied, with a smile. “We each paid Rainbow Dash a piece of bacon so we could take a turn petting her earlier.”

The confusion of the night princess only grew at that. “I see,” she said, with an unsure tone. “I still do not understand that.”

Shepard blushed a bit. “Well, you're all just adorable, you know?”

“Even me?” Luna asked, in surprise.

“Especially you,” Shepard replied, without a pause. Though she did take a moment to smile sheepishly as Luna gave her a flabbergasted look. “I mean, you have this strong, aloof aura about you, but anyone who's been around someone in authority can see that it's just your public persona. The fact that you've been very patient with everyone today and the way you mingle with your subjects shows that you're actually a very caring individual, just that you're afraid to show it because you think it'll make you look weaker in some eyes.

“So... uhm...” Shepard continued, albeit with increasing hesitance as the princess simply stared at her. “Yeah, add that to the fact that all of you ponies are adorable, and frankly, I just want to give you a hug.”

“Alexis!” the familiar voice of James McKenna sounded from nearby. Shepard and the ponies all startled at that, and quickly turned their heads to see the wounded human walking down the ramp that lead to the upper 'mech bay. “Stop embarrassing her highness and go check out your 'mech,” he added, a hint of irritation in his otherwise even tone.

“Yes sir,” Shepard replied, with a casual but sincere salute. She then glanced to Luna and nodded. “Milady,” she said, and then turned to walk off towards the company's Grand Dragon.

James grumbled to himself as he approached the ponies, who simply stood in a daze of confusion. “I swear, I can't go even an hour without them gettin' weird,” the human muttered, and then sighed as he stopped an appropriate distance from Luna. “Once again you have my apologies, princess,” he said, sincerely, and then decided to quickly change the subject. “If you'd like, we have that demonstration set up for you.”

Luna blinked as her mind shifted back into working order. “Yes, I believe that would be ideal,” she replied, as she unfolded a wing to gesture forward. “Please, lead on.”

“Excellent. Follow me, please,” James said, and then turned to head back the way he came. For her part Luna collected her guards and the present element bearers by eye and then strode off after the human with her subjects in tow. The walk up the access ramp was uneventful and quick, and soon the upper 'mech bay came into view.

A bit less impressive than the lower section, Luna mused, as she cast an eye over the smaller space. Although she was of course uneducated when it came to DropShip design, she nevertheless could see that some of the clean, orderly lines of the ship's original design had been replaced by later modifications that marred the symmetry and aesthetics that were prevalent elsewhere in the ship. It was then that she realized that the ship even had a sense of aesthetics built into it; what is that phrase somepony coined this last century? “Utilitarian”, that's it. Strange how one doesn't miss something so subtle until it's been replaced by... whatever it is I am looking at.

The area that caught her attention the most was where McKenna was leading them towards: a cluster of furnishings, equipment, and storage containers all secured to the decking with metal straps, bolts, and several welds. Laid out around these were a collection of odds and ends that Luna could not fathom as such technology was outside her experience. What she did recognize, however, was an irate McCoy supervising two humans she did not recognize and several ponies as they helped to clean up what seemed to be a recent mess.

“...Rainbow-haired spawn of a Trachazoi,” the chief tech was griping as McKenna and Luna's group arrived. He turned at that and gave his commander a harsh look. “And who's bloody idea was it tae let th' hyperactive flyin' pony rattle 'round the ship like a loose autocannon?”

“I'll take care of him as soon as I have a word with the guy who let a manticore chew on a piece of myomer,” James wryly replied.

For a wonder, McCoy actually sputtered once before he regained his self control. “Alright, ya jibberin' jabberwock, let's git this dog n' pony show on th' road,” he said, and then turned to face the humans and ponies assisting him. “Forget th' cleanup, jus' git in positions.”

A series of confirmations came back, and the debris still on the floor was quickly shoveled aside with unicorn telekinesis while the human assistants moved several large objects onto a central table that had previously been empty. “We were gonna start with th' harness, but since miss high octane ain't here at th' moment, we'll git tae th' recoilless rifle,” McCoy stated, and then walked up to the display table whereupon he patted a large, cylindrical tube. “This here is a simple weapon, simply uses action n' reaction tae send a nasty little package down range,” he explained, as Luna walked forward to get a better look at the device. “Also Steelshod figured how tae make holds fer ye freaky hooves, so ye not be needin' that fancy magic o' yours tae use 'em.”

One of the assisting ponies winced at the hooves comment and quickly jumped in when McCoy finished speaking. “The weapons are easy to produce, your majesty,” the yellow stallion began. “Being a simple tube of high-tensile strength steel means that we can easily adapt civilian steel production for the weapons. However,” he added, and then paused to rub a forehoof along the back of his neck. “We're having some problems with the triggers and ammunition.”

“What sort of problems, Widget?” Luna asked, concerned.

“Chiefly, the intricacy of it,” the pony, Clever Widget, replied. “The ignition mechanisms for both the propellent and the explosive payload require a precision that is seldom seen outside of clockwork, and while we can do that kind of work easily enough, doing it fast is the real issue. Steelshod has everypony he can grab working around the clock, but he estimates we won't have more than one hundred rounds by tomorrow.”

“A pittance,” McCoy said, somewhat dejectedly. “We managed tae get 'bout four rifles ready yesterday, an' he promised me six today. Ten rounds fer each weapon won't last ye long.”

“Then we'll have to be sure to use them at the right moment,” McKenna interjected. “That will fit into our battle plan, though.”

“I see,” Luna said, with a nod of her head. “I am impressed, McCoy, Widget, that you could do even this much so quickly.”

McCoy nodded back. “Aye, lass. Ye ponies ain't much fer high tech, but whatever ye can do ye do fast an' well. Almost as good as havin' some o' those lostech automated factories back home.”

Luna raised an eyebrow at that, but decided to let the comment slide. I shall have to ask about such things at a later date when there is more time, she mused. “I am glad to hear that we have a value beyond our 'cuteness',” she wryly observed.

Some of the humans blushed at that, but the ponies with them—save Luna and her group—seemed surprised at the statement. Mayhaps they have not heard how the humans regard us? Luna mused over that briefly, but then turned her attention back to McCoy. “I believe there was another innovation you wished to show us?”

“Aye, but we cannae do it 'til miss rocket butt gets back, so why don't ye talk tae yer purple friend there 'bout that magic fluffle she's so worked up about?” McCoy replied, with a dismissive wave of his hand towards Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight gave the human a hard look in return. After a moment, however, she closed her eyes and then took in a few deep breaths before she opened them again, once again in control of her emotions. “I think this will work best with one of the guard volunteers,” she began, with a glance towards her princess. Luna nodded once, and Twilight turned her head back to the group of ponies assisting McCoy. “Desert Wash, would you assist me?” she asked.

A beige unicorn with a blonde mane and tail walked forward from the group at that. “Of course, miss Sparkle,” he replied. “I am at your service,” he added, with a bow.

A blush briefly ran over Twilight's face at that, but she quickly suppressed it. “Thank you. We'll start with the modified shield spells. Please stand over by the railing,” she instructed, and pointed with a foreleg.

Wash nodded at that and then trotted over to stand at the indicated spot. Then he turned back to face the others and waited patiently as Twilight Sparkle spoke again. “Shield spells are normally 'all-or-nothing' affairs, requiring the caster to maintain a solid barrier,” she began, as she walked out to stand between Desert Wash and the others. “The problem with that is the barrier is only as resilient as the pony who casts it is strong, thaumaturgically speaking. The average unicorn could maintain a defense rating of about three on the Sharp Wit scale, which for our human friends translates approximately into something capable of holding off maybe a single short-ranged missile before the shield collapses,” she explained, as she had taken time to read up a bit on human war technology as a matter of course. “Stronger unicorns can have a defense rating of up to fifteen or sixteen. A rare few can have ratings up to twenty-five, while certain exceptional individuals have topped out at one hundred or more.”

“Such as thy brother and thyself,” Luna stated, with a nod.

Twilight blushed at that. “You know about that?” she asked, timidly.

“Celestia spoke of it proudly,” the alicorn stated. “She was grateful to have such individuals of strength and moral fiber so willing to defend the realm.”

“I, uh, see,” Twilight sputtered a bit, as the blush on her face started to look as if it were a permanent fixture. Then she cleared her throat and turned her head to glance to Desert Wash. “Anyway, could you bring up the modified shield spell?”

“Certainly,” Wash said, somewhat uncomfortably as he felt Sparkle's embarrassment and empathized with it. Still, he managed to concentrate and a pale aura appeared around his horn, followed a split second later by the appearance of a shield.

Luna blinked in surprise as she saw that, instead of the usual bubble, the magical shield was instead a flat plane in front of Desert Wash, tilted at an angle so that its bottom was further away from the projecting pony than its top. “A directional shield?” she asked, bemused.

“Yes,” Twilight replied, a bit more confidently as she once again eased back into her lecture role. “Spherical shields do a good job for all around defense, but they spread out a unicorn's power instead of focusing it. Furthermore, mister McCoy has been... illuminating about ballistic shaping.”

“And what would that be?” Luna asked, curiously.

“The specific property of angling surfaces so that they deflect projectiles instead of attempting to absorb the entirety of their kinetic energy,” Twilight replied, in a lecturing tone.

A brief silence followed that. Luna frowned a bit in befuddlement. “Which means?” she asked.

“She means this,” McCoy said, as he withdrew a pistol from his belt holster and aimed it at Desert Wash. The pony barely had time to flinch before the human pulled the trigger and filled every being's ears with the loud report of a large-caliber handgun.

Although she flinched a bit in surprise, Luna saw that the bullet bounced off of the shield and flew straight up. Or, I think the pieces of it did, she mused, as her mind replayed the brief event.

Unfortunately for the princess, her thoughts were interrupted by a shout. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Drew!” McKenna exclaimed. “Using a firearm in a 'mech bay? While aiming it at someone? Have you gone completely batshit insane?”

“Ah, quit yer bellyachin'; the lad's fine!” McCoy countered, as he holstered his pistol with one hand while he pointed to Desert Wash, who was shaken but remained standing. “Look, he dinna even wet himself!”

“That's not the point!” McKenna shouted, as he took a step towards the elder human. “You could've hurt him!”

“What, ye dinna think we tested this stuff already?” McCoy asked, sounding genuinely confused for a change. “What do ye think we were doin' th' last ten days while ye minced around pony town? Have a wank contest?” He shook his head at that and gave the commander a hard look. “Ye pay me tae make this stuff work, I think you would trust me.”

“You shot a gun at someone out of the blue,” McKenna replied, his tone a bit more sedate, but still with a vein of anger. “The possibility of ricochet alone is bad enough.”

“Ach, it was a frangible round!” McCoy countered, as he threw both of his arms in the air. “I'm not that old yet, ya daft monkey.”

A moment of deadly silence filled the area, broken only by the noises from the deck below as various individuals made inquiries about the sudden noise. None of the other humans or ponies in the group, however, wanted to make so much as a move lest they bring upon themselves the wrath of the two men staring at each other. Even Luna felt ill at ease at the sudden conflict. I could crush their necks with a thought, she darkly mused. Yet they arouse in me a fear that doing so would only make them angry.

Finally, a light cough broke the tableau, and both men turned to see Twilight Sparkle giving them a harsh look. “If you are both done being childish, we can move on,” she stated.

Something in her tone finally penetrated into the two men's minds, and they both grumbled noncommittal utterances. James, though, felt a rise of his flippant side, and he could help but raise his good hand and pointed at McCoy. “He started it.”

McCoy looked shocked for a moment, before a gleam lit up in his eyes. “I did not!”

“Did too.”

“Did not times ten!”

“Did too times infinity!”

“That's it, I'm tellin' your mother about this when we get home,” McCoy countered, as he crossed his arms.

“Tattletale,” McKenna countered, with a smirk.

“Ugh,” Twilight groaned, even as she brought up a foreleg and covered her face with a fetlock. “You two are worse than my brother and Spike.”

A string of muffled chuckles entered the unicorn's ears, and she lowered her leg and saw that most of the humans and ponies in the group were trying hard not to laugh at the recent display. Even Luna was fighting a smirk that threatened to expand into a wide grin. Even though it was a bit at her expense, Twilight couldn't help but feel some of the tension lift, and she managed a lopsided smile that said 'I'm still angry but I do see the humor'. “Anyway, may I continue now?”

“Certainly, miss Sparkle,” McKenna said, with a wave of his arm.

“Good,” Twilight replied, and then gave McCoy another hard look. “And no more guns, or I'll take it away from you.”

“Bah,” McCoy grunted, but otherwise remained silent.

Twilight took the unusual agreement in stride, and she turned to give Desert Wash her attention. “Are you alright?” she asked. “Can you go on, or would you like to switch out?”

“I'm fine, miss Sparkle,” Wash replied, with a shaky grin. “Just surprised, that's all.”

“Okay,” Twilight said, a bit unsure. Well, if he's still willing to go on... She cleared her throat and then turned her body so she could once again shift her head back and forth between Wash and the main group. “Well, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Twilight began, with only a brief pause to give McCoy another poisonous glance. “Is that the new shield configuration will allow a greater deflection of energy and mass. Most especially now because with a planar surface they can be overlaid to form a defensive matrix.”

Again, a moment of silence fell over the group, though it was brief as Applejack quickly uttered what most were thinking: “Huh?”

Twilight sighed. “It means we can do this,” she said, and then conjured up a shield similar to the one Wash was projecting. Then she conjured a second, and then a third, and then moved them around in the air until they meshed together with Wash's projection and each other, two in front and side-by-side, while the other two worked in behind them, arranged so that their edges were behind the middle of the forward shields. “I had the idea after glancing though some of the humans' older history from the pre-spaceflight era, namely the ancient armies of Greece,” Twilight explained, and then gave a sheepish grin at the odd looks she garnered. “Well, I was just interested in seeing how far back one had to look before human military technology matched Equstria's current state,” she said, and then sighed as her visage fell. “Sadly, that was thirty-four hundred years ago...

“Anyway,” the unicorn added, a bit forcefully as she made herself to perk up a bit. “The interlocking shields will help distribute impacts across multiple ponies. In addition, the spell has also been modified so that the conservation of energy effects will not be translated into a thaumaturgical wavefront, but remain physical in nature.”

“Equish, Twilight,” Applejack flatly stated.

A sigh wracked the unicorn. “Instead of being turned into a drain on the caster's energy, the physical force will remain physical,” she reiterated. “The original spell was intended solely for individual protection and was made to prevent crushing and impacts from wounding the caster or tossing her about. But the ability to deflect projectiles better combined with the interlocking defense means that the force should be sustainable for the fit ponies of their majesties' guard even in the face of significant kinetic impacts and thermal events.”

“She means that a platoon of unicorns can create an array of shields that can, hopefully, withstand up to significantly more punishment, even from human weapons,” Desert Wash interpreted. He shirked back a bit, though, when Twilight gave him an irritated look. “Well, that is what you're saying, isn't it?” he asked her.

“Yes, but I was giving the proper description,” she replied, in a huff.

“Which is much appreciated, Twilight,” Luna interjected, with a raised hoof. “But Desert Wash's succinct explanation is more along the lines of what we're looking for, at the moment.”

The mare blushed at that, and then nodded. “Of course, princess. My apologies, time is of the essence after all,” she replied. The aura over her horn died, as did the shields she was generating, and she then glanced to Wash. “Thank you for your help, sergeant; I can handle the rest of the demonstration.”

“My pleasure, miss,” Desert Wash replied, and then cut his own magic and trotted over to stand by his fellow guardsponies who had been working with the humans.

“The next demonstration is of another modified form of the shield spell,” Twilight began as she walked over to where Desert Wash had been standing. “Again, I was inspired by some of human history, though this was a bit more recent,” she said, and then charged her horn. An instant later a bubble appeared around her, and Twilight remained silent for a moment as the bubble's texture and shape varied a little while she fine-tuned the spell. “Mister McCoy,” she said, as she turned her head to address the human. “I suppose this might sound a bit hypocritical, but...” she paused, and took a moment to draw in a deep breath. “I want you to shoot me.”

This startled everyone else in the area. “Are ye sure 'bout that, lass?” McCoy asked. “I know yer supposed tae be strong and all, but I don't remember testin' a second shield.”

“I'll be fine, I promise,” Twilight replied, with a smile. McCoy shrugged at that and then started to withdraw his pistol again, but a quick upraised lavender hoof halted him. “Just... not the face, okay?” Twilight added.

“Alright, lass,” McCoy said, as he finished drawing his weapon. Then he raised it and aimed carefully, towards the center of her cutie mark. “If yer sure about this.”

“I'm one hundred percent sure, so—” Twilight began, but was interrupted by the report of the pistol as McCoy fired it again. The bullet slammed into the shield, but surprisingly enough was not stopped by it. Instead the frangible round shattered as passed through the shield, and the fragments had just enough velocity to slap into Twilight's flank. The pony flinched at the contact, and then lifted the affected rear leg a bit with a wince. “You could have waited until I finished talking,” she grumbled at McCoy, who merely shrugged. “That really stings.”

“That should have done more or less than sting,” James McKenna spoke up. “I thought your shields were supposed to stop all incoming attacks?”

“Usually, yes,” Twilight replied, even as she dismissed her shield and then used her magic to press down and rub her flank a bit where the fragments had impacted. “However, while I was waiting in Ponyville yesterday I... needed something to distract myself,” she said, and then glanced down as her tone fell along with her features. Both Applejack and Fluttershy winced and started to make their way over to their friend, but Twilight soon looked up and held out a hoof to stop them. “Anyway,” she continued, once again in control of her voice. “I remembered you mentioned something about a place called Solaris VII, so I looked it up in the library you let me borrow. It was very informative, especially the part about what they called 'Class Six Arenas', and one in particular.”

The eyes of every human in the group widened at that as Twilight's words sunk in. “You're talking about the Colosseum, right?” McKenna asked, and then took in a breath when she nodded. “You recreated the Detonator Grid?”

“Er, not exactly,” Twilight replied. She grinned sheepishly as she sat on her haunches so she could rub the back of her neck with a foreleg. “But I did realize that it had many of the same properties as our defense spells, so I spent last night working on a new version of the shield that would mimic it somewhat.”

“Wait a moment, please,” Luna interjected, with a raised hoof, and then looked towards McKenna. “What is this 'detonator grid'?” she asked.

“It's a piece of lostech—excuse me,” he quickly added, as he saw Luna become confused. “'Lostech' is a word that means 'lost technology', and generally applies to anything made by the First Star League that our people forgot how to build, or even how it works.” James paused for a moment to gather his thoughts and his breath. “The Detonator Grid was one of the most advanced technologies ever produced; a field of some sort that would sap the energy of lasers and particle cannons, stop machine gun bullets, and cause missiles and autocannon shells to explode.

“Sadly, the technology had only barely been invented before the Usurper threw the League into civil war, which led to its collapse. The only known example was built and hardwired into an arena called the Colosseum, which is the only place in known space where spectators can sit in stands and watch BattleMechs fight in gladiatorial combat directly, and not through remote video feeds.” James looked over at Twilight again, and his face took on a look of open admiration. “Even with the Helm memory core and fifty years of reclaiming many forms of lostech, the Detonator Grid and several other wonders stand out as they're as incomprehensible as they've ever been.”

“And Twilight Sparkle copied it in one night from readin' a description,” McCoy added in, while he holstered his pistol once again. No one missed the fact that he was too stunned to even apply a mocking nickname for the unicorn. “Sweet mother o' God, lass, there are boys back home who would marry you for figurin' that out, pony or no.”

Twilight blushed heavily at this, even as she grinned a bit in pride. The grin faded after a moment, however, and she cleared her throat again. “Unfortunately, it's not a perfect copy,” she stated. “As princess Luna noted, I can generate especially powerful fields, but most unicorns would be hard-pressed to stop a machine gun burst, let alone the heavy weapons a BattleMech carries.”

McKenna frowned at that. “Then why make the spell in the first place?” he asked.

“Because unlike the other shield spells, this one can be adjusted in magnitude depending on the caster,” Twilight answered. “While I could probably do a decent job of copying the grid, at least over small areas, other ponies could at least denude damage done by energy weapons by half, prematurely detonate missiles, and possibly deflect cannon shells and bullets as long as the caster can maintain the spell. Furthermore, this shield is more easily projected in a sphere without losing its effects,” the mare added, and then gave McKenna a sly look. “ And I did remember what we spoke about in the meetings before today, commander; I know what you want unicorns for. I figured this spell might be helpful to add to that plan, and it would work better for any of us riding in your war machines than the simple directional shield.”

“It... certainly could,” James replied. He brought up his good hand and began to stroke his stubble-covered chin. “If what you're saying is true, then it won't stop everything, but it'll reduce the amount of damage a 'mech will take for a time and give us the practical equivalent of carrying more armor.”

“I have questions, however,” Luna spoke up, which garnered everyone's attention. “Firstly, how are the thermal and kinetic effects bled off? Secondly, will the casting pony be put in jeopardy by doing this?”

Twilight Sparkle nodded to her liege. “Good questions. To answer the first one, the incoming damage is soaked into a thaumaturgical waveform per the standard shield spell, although I've used some of what Celestia taught me just before... before O'Connell landed,” she broke up a bit at this, but managed to carry on. “I've modified it so that the waveform will spread out further along the Binding directly, instead of carrying all of its force through a pony's magic reserves.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “That could cause serious disruptions in nearby casting,” she observed.

“It's possible, even likely,” Twilight admitted. “But... well, as the humans say, 'this is war',” she added, somberly. “Sometimes you need something that works right away rather than something perfect that won't be done until you've lost.”

“Lass, keep talkin' that way and I'll be the one tae marry ya,” McCoy added in, with his usual disregard for propriety. The comment worked, though, as a round of chuckles ran through the group of humans and ponies and lightened the mood. “Yer an engineer after me own, blackened heart.”

Another series of chuckles was heard, and Twilight managed to blush again. “Thank you, I think,” she wryly replied. Then she turned back to Luna. “Anyway, princess, as to the second question, I've also built in a cut-off feature into the spell that should theoretically cause it to fail before the feedback reaches the threshold at which permanent damage can occur to a caster.”

“Should?” Desert Wash chimed in from the side.

Twilight nodded to him. “Yes. I'm sorry, but I did just come up with this last night—and lost a lot of sleep, I might add. Unfortunately, it's not a full, peer-reviewed spell and I don't think we have the time for it now, do you?”

Wash backed up a step as some heat entered Twilight's voice. “Er, no miss,” he replied. “I was just trying to clarify.”

“Well, consider it clear,” Twilight flatly stated. A pregnant pause fell over the group at that, but it was fortunately brief as Twilight took a deep, calming breath, and then turned herself to face the group as a whole once again. “In any case, that covers the defensive spells. Offensive spells will be simple magical bursts, which appear to be one of the few advantages ponies—or, at least unicorns—do have over humans, as the average blast produced by a properly trained guardspony has the roughly the same damage capacity as a human long-ranged missile, albeit at significantly shorter range.”

“If I may?” Desert Wash gently interrupted. Twilight's expression turned annoyed briefly, but she soon dismissed the feeling and nodded to the stallion. He nodded back, and then turned his head to address Luna. “This is one field we've already had some practice in, thanks to our normal training and some education courtesy of mister Schneider,” he began. “We plan to fire in volleys to maximize our impact and increase the chance of hitting the enemy forces. The practices we've had have shown that we can maintain an effective firing rate for ten minutes before magical exhaustion begins to affect us.”

Luna frowned. “That doth not seem to be very long, sergeant,” she observed.

“It will probably be enough for the battle we're about to face,” McKenna interjected. “Most smaller-scale 'mech battles are over within five to ten minutes, fifteen at the most; our weapons deal too much damage for any but the most heavily armored 'mechs to endure more than that. Of course, some battles last longer, especially the larger ones where large scale maneuver becomes important.”

“Such as the battle you are about to face?” Luna asked.

James grimaced a bit at that, but he nodded. “Yes. But even then the battle plan we have means your guards shouldn't be engaged throughout the entirety of it.”

The frown remained on Luna's face, but she nodded. “I note the 'should', but I suppose that cannot be helped,” she said, and then sighed herself. “I need no reminders on the vagaries of war,” she added, and then waited patiently for McKenna to nod his agreement before she turned her head back to Twilight. “Is that all, Twilight Sparkle?”

“There's just one more spell,” Twilight replied, and then paused to draw breath in for another explanation. She was interrupted, however, by the sound of the main lift descending to the deck and its door being opened.

Everyone else heard this as well, and they all turned their bodies or heads around to see an odd sight: Dorian Carmine lying face-down on the floor of the lift, while Rainbow Dash sat on his back, happily chewing on something while a plate was balanced on one outstretched wing.

“Well, it's about time someone killed him,” McCoy wryly observed, rather loudly so that his voice would carry the distance to the elevator. “Did ya use a knife, lass, or just pummel him with yer hooves?”

“He's not dead,” Rainbow Dash replied, loud enough to be heard, and then slowly climbed off of Dorian's back.

“I'm close to it!” the sprawled human yelled out, though his words were muffled as he kept his head face-down.

“Oh don't be a baby,” Dash replied, as she turned her head back to look down at the man. Then she carefully extended a rear leg and prodded his shoulder with the hoof. “I barely touched you.”

Dorian seemed to tense at that, and then he finally started to push himself up. Dash felt her blood chill a bit, though, as she saw he had a sinister smile on his face. “Oh, you touched me alright,” he said, and then turned his head to look at the others watching the interplay. “She just couldn't keep her hooves off of me as she ravaged my body in ways both criminal and intimate.”

“WHAT!” Rainbow shouted, as her eyes bugged out. She spun around, barely keeping the plate stable on a wing, and jabbed a foreleg towards Carmine. “That's a lie and you know it!” she said, even as laughter and snickers erupted behind her.

“Oh come now, Dashie,” Dorian said, as he slowly shifted into a sitting position. “There's no shame in admitting how rakishly handsome I am, and how it drove you to violate my person.”

“The only reason I touched you is 'cus you were eating my bacon!” Dash retorted, while her face turned red. Whether from anger or embarrassment, even she didn't know. “And all I did was slap you on the head with a wing! You're the one who said it would be funnier if I was sitting on top of you when the elevator came down!”

“And you're the one who agreed to it,” Dorian replied, a smirk on his face. “I think that proves that you're just eager for a ride on the Carmine express.”

Rainbow Dash could only sputter at that, her face a brilliant red even through her cyan coat. “I... you... Not in a million years!”

Carmine couldn't take it any more, and he burst into laughter so strong that he soon slumped back to the floor. “Your face...” he managed out between convulsions of amusement. “It's priceless!”

The laughter behind Rainbow was no longer constrained, and she frowned in anger as the man in front of her continued to lead everyone in merriment. She was just starting to contemplate severely mauling Carmine when the laughter started to die out, and she heard footsteps from a human approach her from the group behind. Dash turned her head around in time to see James walk up beside her, a curious mix of anger and amusement on his face. When he spoke, however, his tone was hard and unyielding. “Dorian,” he began, and the laughter cut off. “Your 'mech. Now.”

The smile on Carmine's face died, and he nodded as he stood up. “Yes sir,” he replied, and then stepped back into the lift. He quickly pushed the button for the lower deck and soon disappeared from sight.

“Now that's over with,” McKenna said, as he turned to face Rainbow fully. “Miss Dash, I believe you were going to help McCoy with a presentation for your princess?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, right,” the pegasus nervously replied, as his tone of voice even worked on her. “I'll just go over there, then,” she said, and then turned and trotted off towards where McCoy had turned to fiddle with something on one of the tables.

The elder human turned to Dash as she trotted up, and then waited as she set her plate of goodies down on a small crate. “'Bout time ye got here, lass,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if the scene with Dorian hadn't occurred at all. “C'mon, let's give 'em a good look-see at what ye've been so patient with.”

“Rainbow Dash, patient? Th' world must be comin' to an end,” Applejack snarked from the sideline.

“I can be when I need to,” Dash retorted, while she turned her head around to give her friend a hard look. The expression was replaced by a look of surprise, however, as McCoy hefted a strange harness off of one of the work benches and abruptly half-dropped it onto Rainbow's back. “Hey!” she shouted, as she pitched her head to look at the gruff human. “Could you give me a warning next time?”

“Fer such a fast pony ye like tae waste time talkin',” McCoy observed, as he shifted the device around on the pegasus' back, and made an adjustment now and again. “Now are ye gonna fasten th' straps 'round yer middle or am I gonna have tae get Dorian back up here tae do it for ya?”

Rainbow shot him a dirty look, but she begrudgingly complied and bent her head and neck down and lifted a foreleg so she could reach under her barrel. She tugged at several straps with her mouth and used her raised hoof to help manipulate them.

Luna watched in quiet confusion as the strange contraption was fitted to Dash's body. It looks as if a backpack, a saddlebag, and one of the humans' mechanical walkers had a bizarre offspring, she mused, as the large packs or boxes affixed to a relatively stiff harness looked almost ridiculous on the normally sleek pegasus. And that strange arm off to the side; doth that not look like that 'myomer' attached to its articulation points?

The princess' confusion increased further when McCoy turned back to the workbench to retrieve another piece of equipment. This one looked like some sort of strange wire or cord with several pads attached on little offshoots from the center trunk, and McCoy made sure to get Dash's attention while he was holding it. “Lemme know when yer ready for this, lass.”

Dash finished tightening a strap and then looked up and nodded. “Go ahead,” she said, and then turned her head to face forward and held still. McCoy took the invitation and swiftly moved to push the odd device up against the back of her head and neck, pushing portions of her mane aside so that the odd pads could affix directly to her body, with only the thin, fine hair of her coat between them and her skin. This was a paltry barrier, as an unseen adhesive affixed the device directly to Dash's body. Once this was secure, McCoy quickly strung a wire from the back of it and plugged it into one of the large boxes attached to the harness Rainbow wore.

After a few more moments of watching these odd preparations, Luna felt her curiosity get the better of her. “Pray tell, what is this?” she finally asked.

“It's a motorized auto-articulatin' harness with inertial gyroscopes tae aim a weapon an' a neural interface fer operatin' th' gun,” McCoy explained, his tone dry as he maintained his focus on testing several connections on the device. Then abruptly he turned and went to the bench he had retrieved the harness from and picked up what even Luna could recognize as a human weapon of some sort. “In this case, we're usin' a Colt Interstellar M-3032 sub-machine gun,” the armorer added, as he knelt down next to Dash and quickly began to affix the weapon to the odd arm coming off of the harness. “Zack, help me with this,” he added, with a turn of his head to address one of his astechs, who came over immediately to assist.

“This is that project I mentioned yesterday, princess,” Twilight Sparkle interjected. “It basically is a machine that allows a pony to aim and fire a human weapon without requiring their hands.”

“Aye,” McCoy agreed, as he and the astech finished fastening the weapon and then stood back up. “It's a cobbled together piece o' tech, made from some extra parts we had lyin' around. It ain't much, nothin' like a real artificial limb, but it ought tae work.”

“Ah,” Luna replied, and then watched with morbid interest as McCoy took out a noteputer—something she had been introduced to in the brief meeting before the battle—and plugged it into a port on the side of one of the boxes on the harness. “Will we see a demonstration of this ability?” she asked.

“Soon 'nough,” McCoy replied, as he finished his electronic fiddling and then detached the noteputer and placed it back on the workbench. He then reached for yet another device, and then took it over to Rainbow's head. “Last piece, Dash.”

“I'm ready,” the pegasus replied, nonchalantly. McCoy didn't say anything in reply, but instead just knelt down again and quickly but carefully began to fit the odd item over Dash's head. Luna quickly realized it was made precisely to do that, as it nestled snugly against the curves of the pegasus' head, and in fact wrapped around to the front to place a small translucent panel of some sort over Rainbow's right eye. The princess watched with keen interest as McCoy began to attach some leads from the wire harness he'd placed earlier.

“Alright, let's turn it on,” McCoy said, as he finished with his task and then stood up once again. “Try it like we practiced,” he added, with a look at Rainbow Dash.

“Right.” The pegasus nodded as she spoke, and then closed her eyes to concentrate. A moment later the arm with the weapon twitched, and then Dash opened her eyes again and grinned. “It's on,” she said, and then turned her head a bit. The gun at her side tracked with her movement, and pointed in the same direction she looked.

“Interesting,” Luna observed. “How does it work?”

“Half-assed,” McCoy immediately replied, much to the wincing chagrin of McKenna. “This sort o' tech ain't supposed tae be possible outside th' gobbledygook th' Wobbies or Clans were stickin' in their zealots' heads, but a clever man kin find a way 'round ordinary limitations.”

“But when you can't find a clever man, you go with a crotchety old fart,” James chimed in from the side.

“Correction: a crotchety old fart who knows how tae keep a fusion reactor runnin' with bailin' wire and duct tape,” McCoy retorted, his voice laced with pride. He then reached down and then lightly patted the top of the SMG affixed to the harness. “In this case, I figured we dinnae need a full MMI—which is good 'cus there ain't a way we kin make one from scratch—but ye can do all sorts o' clever things with spare neurosensors an' smart programming.”

“I see,” Luna replied, somewhat bemused. “And what is an 'MMI'?”

“It's an acronym that stands for 'mind-machine interface',” McKenna answered for his chief tech. “The idea is that it creates a bridge between the organic brain and electronic computers. The neurohelmets us mechwarriors use are a basic form of MMI, taking our sense of balance and kinesthetics and using it to keep a 'mech upright, while providing a form of feedback that allows a skilled pilot to more deftly control his machine.”

A brief silence fell over the area as Luna processed the humans' words. “Astounding,” she said, clearly impressed. “And this technology is being used here?”

“Aye,” McCoy replied. “But only tae turn the thing on an' fire it. And we could only do that because miss Dash has what we call an 'aggressive' personality,” the elder human added, and then smirked just slightly as Applejack and Twilight chuckled a bit at the description. They shut up, though, when Dash shot them a look and the gun at her side tracked over. “Ach. Careful, lass!” McCoy added, as he reached down to pull Rainbow's head away from her friends by grabbing the pegasus' muzzle.

“Hey!” Dash snapped, as she tore her muzzle away from the human's grip. “What gives?”

“It's bad discipline to point a gun you haven't personally inspected at anyone or anything you don't want to shoot,” James interjected, his tone once again the cold, hard steel of command. “That gun may not be loaded, but until you've seen that for yourself you must assume that it is. Because if you assume it isn't and it actually has a round chambered, then you run the risk of accidentally triggering it and killing someone.”

The harsh words rolled over Rainbow Dash like a wave, and she visibly sagged as the ideas registered. “Oh,” she said, and then lowered her head. “Sorry.”

“Humph,” McCoy grunted, before an awkward silence could set in. “Gettin' back tae why we're here,” he added, and then turned to face the princess. “My point was that this kind o' thing ain't usually workable, but the blue blunderbuss here has some high peakin' brainwaves that makes it easy fer some simple commands tae be triggered when she has a specific thought. We've set it it so that one turns th' thing on and off, and the other makes th' gun fire. Other than that th' actual gun mount is controlled by a spare targeting system from one of our battle armor suits that tracks th' gun tae wherever th' eyepiece is pointing an' feeds th' operator information through said eyepiece.”

The discussion paused again, as Luna's mind worked to absorb the information she'd been given. Eventually, an idea percolated through her brain. “You say that this is possible thanks to miss Dash's specific thoughts?” she asked.

“Not exactly,” McCoy replied. “Anyone with an extra-distinctive brainwave pattern an' a good, strong thought, like a memory or idea that really gets their attention can do it.”

“Excellent,” Luna said. “I know we are pressed for time, but I can have several candidates from the guard here right after we're done. I hope thou may be able to test them out in time before thou must begin thy march?”

“Whoa, wait,” Rainbow interceded. She started to turn her head to face the princess, but then remembered what McKenna had said, and then paused for a moment as a look of concentration came over her face. The gun at her side then abruptly drooped and pointed down, which allowed the pegasus to face Luna. “What are you talking about, princess?”

Luna frowned at the petulant pony. “Rainbow Dash, surely thou didst not expect to be sent into battle?” she asked, bemused.

“Well, yeah,” Dash replied, and then grew indignant at the looks she got from pony and human alike. “Look, I may not be a trained guard or soldier, but I can fight. I have fought.” She paused then, and her expression fell as she glanced off to the side. “And yesterday... I killed.” Soft gasps came from her friends at that, but this seemed to reinvigorate the pegasus, and she quickly brought her head up and looked Luna straight in the eye. “I did it to save lives, and to stop ponies from suffering.

“And last night, I realized something,” she continued, and her voice grew soft as her eyes watered slightly. “I did it because nopony else could do it. I was the only one who could fly that fast, and do what needed to be done. It was my duty.” Dash nearly whispered the last word, and she paused to close her eyes and take in a deep, calming breath. Soon enough, though, she was once again staring her princess down. “I can't turn my back on what's right. I can't—I won't sit back and hide when other ponies are fighting and killing and dying for me. Especially if, by being out there, I can cover their back and keep them from dying at all.”

Stunned silence met Rainbow's speech, and it dragged on for several long seconds before Luna finally shook her head. “It is not as simple as that, Rainbow Dash,” the alicorn began, her voice low and even. “Thou hast a greater duty, to keep thyself safe so that if the Elements of Harmony need to be used, they can be. To throw thyself into battle would do a disservice to the concept of duty, as it could end up with thy death, and the Elements rendered unusable.”

Dash frowned. “But if I'm out there fighting, then maybe it might be the one last bit of effort that keeps the Elements from needing to be used at all,” she pressed back. “And even if it's not, even if we win without the Elements, how could I live with myself if I knew I could have been there, could have maybe saved somepony's life by killing someone who was going to hurt them?”

“Rainbow, listen to yourself,” a meek, soft voice intruded. Despite the low volume, the sheer beauty of the speaker's voice was enough to capture everyone's attention. Heads turned to regard Fluttershy, and the timid pony trembled slightly under their gaze. Still, something gave her strength, and she managed to stay standing, and even took a few steps forward, towards her friend. “Y-you're talking about hurting and killing other beings,” she added, and her eyes misted up. “H-how can you talk about that so easily, even want to do it?”

Contrary to what many ponies believed, Rainbow Dash was not entirely immune to Fluttershy's unique persuasiveness. The cyan pegasus winced and glanced to the side so she could gather her thoughts. This lasted only a moment before Dash sighed, and then turned her head back to regard her friend. “Fluttershy... if you could have stopped O'Connell from killing those ponies in Manehattan, would you have done it?”

“Absolutely!” Fluttershy exclaimed.

“Okay, but what if the only way you could do that was to kill O'Connell?” Dash asked, carefully.

Fluttershy blanched at the question. “I... I couldn't...” she said, almost in tears.

“I know,” Dash replied, softly, and then took a few steps closer to the other pegasus. “You could never do something like that, most ponies couldn't... but Flutters, I can,” she added, a pleading look upon her face. “I did it before, and I'll do it again. I'll keep doing it until they realize that war won't get them what they want, because that's the only way they'll stop.

“I don't want to do it,” Dash continued, and then took another step towards Fluttershy. “But somepony has to do it, because they won't stop until somepony makes them stop. You saw what they did in Manehattan, you saw what they did to Canterlot; they'll do that to every town in Equestria unless we stop them. If that means I have to go out and fight and kill and... maybe even die...” Rainbow had to pause at that and glance to the side, as tears briefly welled up in her eyes. “If what I do can stop the war sooner, then it'll be worth it to protect ponies like you.” She looked back towards Fluttershy then, and her voice picked up a measure of steel. “If an innocent pony never has to see war, if some foal never has to hide from rockets raining on their town, never has to see their parents killed because some jerk thinks they're a lesser being, then it'll be worth it.

“Because some things are worth fighting for,” Dash added, and then turned her head to levelly gaze into Luna's eyes again. “And one way or another, I'm going to fight.”

Stunned silence met this defiant proclamation, as everyone in the area just looked to where Rainbow Dash and princess Luna were holding an impromptu staring contest. The pause grew until it became awkward for the rest of the persons in the group, but fortunately Luna broke the quiet a moment later. “Be that as it may,” she said, quietly. “It will not be as a representative of Equestria.”

Rainbow found herself frowning again. “What does that mean?”

“It means thou will not have my blessing, nor my support,” Luna calmly explained. “Neither will thee receive any from the military or the government. Thou will not be allowed to travel with any unit, nor will the resources of the crowns be available to thee. Thou art free to do as thou sees fit as prescribed by our laws, but I am not obligated to support this reckless behavior.” She narrowed her eyes a bit, and everyone else in the room would later swear the temperature dropped. “If thy selfish desires are what thou will indulge, then upon thine own head be it.”

Silence ruled the tableau once again. Rainbow visibly paled under her coat, and her ears folded back, but she returned Luna's hard stare with one of her own. Yet, it was not her who spoke next. “It's not selfish.”

Luna blinked at the unexpected intrusion, and she turned her head to see Twilight Sparkle with a look of determination on her face to match that of Rainbow Dash. The reason for it snapped into Luna's mind with crystal clarity, and her eyes widened slightly. “Thou cannot mean...?”

Twilight blushed slightly in embarrassment, but she nodded. “I was going to wait until after the demonstrations to mention it... but yes,” she replied, somewhat sheepishly. “I want to volunteer to be one of the ponies in the BattleMechs.”

Luna stared at the lavender unicorn with an expression of pure shock. Soon enough, however, her face hardened. “We must have words,” she moodily spoke, and then lit up her horn. Before any pony or human could say or do anything about it, however, twin flashes lit the area and forced everyone to flinch in pain from the overwhelming display of light. When they looked back a second later, neither Twilight nor Luna could be seen.

“Well... that was unexpected,” McCoy observed.

“What th' tarnation is goin' on?” Applejack spoke up, and then turned to walk over to Dash. “Rainbow, didja talk ta Twilight 'bout this?”

“N-no,” Dash replied, with a faint and brief stutter. “I haven't spoken with her since yesterday. I honestly had no idea.”

“I don't think any of us did,” a new voice spoke from the side. The group clustered around the worktables turned almost as one to see Rebecca McKenna leading both Rarity and Pinkie Pie towards them from the lift, though it had been Rarity who had spoke. “The poor dear didn't say a word to any of us.”

“There you are,” James said, as his wife drew close. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” Rebecca replied, and then slipped an arm around James' shoulders and gave them little squeeze. “So... figured out how we're going to budget it yet?”

James raised an eyebrow. “Budget what?”

“The job you're going to offer Rainbow Dash,” Rebecca replied, to the surprise of the ponies and a few humans in the area.

“I think you're a bit ahead of me,” James replied, his tone unsure. “Mind moving the slider bar back a few minutes?”

Rebecca sighed in an overly dramatic fashion before she began. “Princess Luna obviously won't let her help her country, but you know very well how much local guides are used by merc units,” she said, and then simply maintained eye contact with her husband as his expression lit up with understanding.

“What are you two talking about?” Rainbow asked from the side, and both McKennas looked down to see that her friends had gathered around the cyan pegasus and all were looking up at the two mercenaries with curious and befuddled expressions. “What's this about a job?”

James didn't answer at first, but simply turned his head to regard his wife again. She returned the look, and the two carried out a silent conversation consisting mainly of facial movements and a few shrugs. This, of course, only confused the ponies more, as they had ever seen body language of such detail. Soon enough, however, James sighed and then shook his head. “You realize that this is only going to tick off the lady who's technically our boss, and can also crush my head with a thought?”

“I don't think she'll do that,” Rarity spoke up again, inserting herself into the conversation. “Princess Luna is very passionate, but also very forgiving.”

“Oh yeah!” Pinkie Pie interjected. “If she wasn't she would have totally gone crazy loco on me after that first Nightmare Night when she dropped by and scared the junipers out of everypony even though she wasn't trying at first and didn't know what was going on exactly but after she did she really really really got into it and now she's totally digging the whole 'dark knight' thing which is funny because knight rhymes with night and so it sounds like she's crusading in the middle of the night which is kinda actually what she does so it works out really well!”

The pause that followed Pinkie's ramble was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Fortunately, it was broken up by someone dropping something significantly heavier than a pin on the deck below, and the thump and assorted cursing broke everyone out of the pink party pony's spell. “Er, okay, so she won't go postal on me, then?” James asked.

“Goin' postal?” Applejack asked. “What's that mean?”

“It means he wants tae make sure miss tight buns won't get so mad she'd lose her temper,” McCoy chimed in from where he had turned to fiddling with his noteputer. Barely had he finished talking, however, when he slapped the side of it. “Ach, blasted thing! Stupid magic teleportin' horses and their bloody EMP.”

“Wait, what?” James asked, with a hard blink of his eyes. “What EMP?”

“One thing at a time, dear,” Rebecca interceded, while she used one hand to turn her husband's face away from the elderly tech and towards her own. “Now, standard guide contract?”

“I suppose,” James begrudgingly replied. “But you take care of the details; I'll have a big enough headache trying to keep the princess from declaring the unit persona non grata.”

“Uh, guys?” Dash interrupted once more. “You're talking about me, so I'd like to know what's going on.”

Rebecca and James shared another look, which ended with the male McKenna giving his wife a smirk. She rolled her eyes in return but then quickly turned to fully face Rainbow Dash and knelt a bit to level her eyes with that of the ponies. “Princess Luna said she won't help you, right?” Rebecca asked, and then waited as she received a nod in return. “Well, it's a common practice back in the Inner Sphere for mercenary units to hire local guides to show them around places on a new planet and find out things, like hidden trails or hiding spots and stuff like that,” she explained, and then grinned. “We've made use of a few in our time, as well. After all, every planet is different, and there are a lot of planets back home.”

“So... you're saying you're going to give me a job?” Rainbow asked, slowly. “And that means you'd let me fight?”

“Under our direction, yes,” James chimed in. “And that is non-negotiable; you will follow orders, or I'll drag you back to the DropShip myself.”

Dash nodded firmly at that and then raised her right foreleg in a salute. “Understood!”

A round of chuckles erupted from the humans at that. “Well, Melissa was right; you've got the spirit for it, that's for sure,” Rebecca observed, with a smile as she stood erect once more. “Still, a fire in your belly won't be all that you need. Are you sure, absolutely sure, that you want to see more battle?”

“Yes,” Dash replied, soberly. Her voice held strength, yet was devoid of false pride. “I meant what I said, and I know what I'm going to see.” She glanced down briefly. “Heavens know I saw enough of that yesterday to know what's coming.”

Rebecca shot her husband another look, to which James simply replied with a nod. “Just know that it never really gets better. Only that you'll unfortunately get used to it,” she said, speaking just a bit slower than usual to emphasize the meaning behind her words. “You're going to see and do things that aren't put in the movies or holovids, and it won't be pretty. But if you hold on, keep your honor clean and never give up, you'll see some good things as well, and even help make them happen.”

Rainbow couldn't help a small grin that appeared on her muzzle. “I can hardly wait,” she replied.

“Excellent,” Rebecca said, and then clapped her hands. “Now, let's see if we can find a noteputer with a verigraph coder...”

* * * *

The flash of teleportation washed over Twilight Sparkle, and she had to blink her eyes several times to clear the afterimage seared into her retinas. Soon enough, however, she saw that Luna had teleported them both into... “The dungeon?!”

“Yes,” Luna replied, as she gracefully walked past the unicorn and over to inspect a table covered in various piles of junk parts. “It is hardly used these days, and I wanted privacy,” she explained, and then fell silent. She remained quiet just long enough to get her thoughts in order, and then turned back to Sparkle before the silence became awkward. “Art thou even aware of what thou art attempting to do?” she asked, vehemently.

Twilight flinched slightly at the tone of voice, but she stood firm. “I know very well, Luna,” she replied, evenly. “I'm volunteering to go into war. I would provide you my reasons, but Rainbow already stated them.” And more eloquently than I would think her capable of, Twilight mentally added.

“Truly?” Luna asked, and then scoffed when Twilight nodded. “Dost thou take me for a fool?”

The increasing harshness of the princess' tone and mannerisms confused Twilight, and she frowned at the alicorn. “I don't think you're a fool at all, princess,” she answered.

“Then dispense with the mummery,” Luna heatedly retorted. “And confess thy true purpose.”

“I-I don't know what you mean,” Twilight replied, in a hurt tone of voice as Luna's attitude confused her to no end. “Please, Luna, I don't know what you want from me.”

Luna just narrowed her eyes and continued to stare at the unicorn. “Don't you?” she asked, skeptically. “Tell me, Twilight Sparkle, how long have I been alive?”

“I—what does that have to do with this conversation?” Twilight asked.

“Because my sister boasted of how intelligent and well studied you are,” Luna replied. “Surely thy curiosity wouldst have been aroused by my return? Did thou not immediately delve into the royal genealogy upon the events of the Summer Sun Celebration before last, or was Celestia mistaken when she spoke to me of it?”

A blush washed over Twilight Sparkle's face. “Er, well, yes. I didn't think it would cause any problems...”

“And it hath not,” Luna amended, her voice softening a bit. “But I reference it now because thou should know that I am indeed quite old by most pony standards, and I have seen and done much.” She paused at that, and then took a step forward to give the unicorn another hard look. “So when I say that I can see through thy surface reasons and into thine heart, know that I am not merely bluffing. Speak all thou may want about the rightness of the cause, but I know that thou have a darker purpose in mind.”

Twilight's face did an immediate reversal of the blush, and soon paled. She then ducked her head down and looked at the floor. “I...” she said, but soon choked up as emotion overwhelmed her.

Luna felt some regret at that, and she softened both her expression and tone. “I know what happened to thy family was not something that one can respond to without verve,” she said, consolingly. “But revenge is not a good reason for war. Or anything else, really.”

“I know that,” Twilight Sparkle replied, so softly that Luna could barely hear her.

“Then why dost thou—“ Luna began, but was quickly cut off as Twilight snapped her head up and gave the alicorn a burning stare.

“Because they destroyed my parents' house, the place I lived for over half my life, and they had to come to Ponyville on a late train only to find out that their son, my brother, is near death because some griffon asshole put a poisoned arrow into his side!” she snapped, her voice rising in volume as she went. “Those murdering bastards have killed ponies without care, put Celestia in a coma, made my parents homeless, and nearly killed my brother!” Twilight's voice reached near Royal Canterlot Voice levels, and even Luna was not immune to the effect as her ears twitched back. “And I am not going to let them do that anymore! No! More!” She punctuated the last two words with stomps of a hoof, and then defiantly stared into Luna's face. This lasted only until Twilight noticed that Luna was now completely aghast, her eyes wide and jaw slacked in shock. The unicorn blushed profusely and then glanced to the side. “No more...” she added, softly, in a voice that was near sobbing.

Luna could only blink repeatedly as her mind struggled with the shock of seeing Twilight Sparkle in such a profound state of anger. Eventually her wits returned to her, and she slowly walked over to sit on her haunches just in front of her subject. “Twilight,” she said, softly, as she put a hoof on Twilight's shoulder. “This is not like you. Throughout this crisis thou hath been a pillar of stability, even in the face of my sister's grievous wounding and the terror that everypony felt upon seeing the might of the invaders. Pray tell, what hath changed in thou to bring about such anger?”

Silence settled over the pair, broken only by an occasional sniff from Twilight. Eventually, though, she slowly looked up and met Luna's gaze. There was no defiance or anger in her eyes now, only sadness and determination. “It wasn't just any one thing,” Twilight began, softly. “It's everything that seems to keep happening. The changelings, Discord, Ni—” She cut herself off, and then bit her lip.

“Myself, you mean,” Luna said, and then rubbed her hoof over Twilight's shoulder. “I take full responsibility for what I have done, Twilight Sparkle. Be not ashamed that you must reckon my actions in the same company of those villains, for that shame is mine and mine alone,” she added, and then gave a wan smile.

Twilight managed a brief, faint smile back, but soon enough her expression returned to its previous state. “It just seems like everything keeps getting worse. Equestria had centuries of peace, and now in the last two years we've had no less than three attempts to conquer the country, and they all almost succeeded,” she explained, and then shook her head. “The last time... they almost won. We were so close to being slaves and food, and the only reason we aren't is because the changeling queen got careless.

“And now, another force is trying to take the land over,” Twilight continued, and then glanced down again. “And they're the worst enemy by far. Machines of such power, driven by beings of such greed and callous disregard for life and peace, the northern griffons aligned with them, and now that changeling caught in the train station...” She sighed, and then shook her head at that. “Even with McKenna's forces helping, it feels like this are our last days of freedom. Like all that makes us unique and special will be destroyed, burned away or shoveled under by the oppressive hoof of a tyranny.

“And what's worse is that this isn't just a feeling; I've spent days studying the humans' history, looking at key points. Greece, Rome, China, the Crusades, the Reformation, the Enlightenment, the Crazy Years, the Age of War, the Star League, the Succession Wars...” Twilight sniffed again and hung her head a bit. “So many times they've tried living in peace, and every time someone comes along and ruins it. War, intrigue, social engineering, outright greed, they always spell the end for everything good. Then comes suffering and pain for years, even centuries.

“It can happen here,” Twilight continued, and then looked back into Luna's worried eyes. “It is happening here. We keep getting attacked again and again, and eventually our luck will run out and we'll get an enemy who won't be overconfident, who will exploit all of our weaknesses and finally bring Equestria down. And despite his arrogance, O'Connell seems just competent enough to do it.”

Luna could only look sadly at the distressed pony in front of her. This drove her to stand up so she could move over and sit right next to Twilight, and then wrap a wing around the unicorn's back. Propriety be damned, she thought. “And this is why thou art so vexed?”

“No,” Twilight surprisingly replied. The unicorn then looked up at her liege gave Luna a frustrated look. “I'm angry because the world is insane and makes no sense!”

“What dost thou mean?” Luna asked, with a frown.

Twilight sighed at that, and then shook her head. “What's happening to Equestria is just like dozens, if not hundreds of stories from human history,” she explained. “And it's maddening because it's almost predictable! Every empire, every kingdom and principality and republic always meets its end because they were too successful. They would win wars, they would find peace and tranquility and prosperity... and then it would all fall to pieces because they had forgotten how hard they had to fight for it, how it was the cost in lives and toil and sacrifice that bought them their golden ages.

“And it's happening here, to us right now!” Twilight continued, and then abruptly stood and started to pace near to where Luna remained seated. “You and your sister bought us eleven hundred year of peace and prosperity—and for that I am grateful,” she hastily amended, with a pause to give Luna an earnest look. “Please understand that I'm not complaining about you and Celestia, princess,” Twilight added as she resumed pacing. “But it's that very peace and prosperity that has made us incapable of standing against O'Connell on our own.

“I know our own history,” the unicorn went on, seemingly on a tangent. “Everypony has the Hearth's Warming play memorized by the age of eight, and we all know that in the past the pegasi were great warriors. Yet all three of the tribes in those ancient times were just as contentious as anything the humans dealt with, and I think if we had shared a world with them we would have given even them a run for their money. But then we founded Equestria, you and Celestia came with the Elements of Harmony and sealed Discord, and even when you had your... uh...”

“Celestia named it a 'Hissy Fit',” Luna suggested, and then raised an eyebrow when Twilight looked at her in shock. “But call it whatever you wish.”

“...Breakdown,” Twilight said, and then continued once Luna simply nodded her acquiescence. “Even then it was a brief fight, not even worthy of being called a war. Equestria hasn't been challenged in so long that the best military technology we have are spears and armors the humans discarded as obsolete before they figured out their world was round. Our best technology overall is a hodgepodge of steam engines, vacuum tube electronics, and some advanced chemical industries, all things that humans managed and improved upon before they took to the stars, and even then only a century or so before. We've had these things for three centuries now and we've barely made any improvements because we didn't need to.” She paused, and then turned her head to regard Luna once again. “We enjoy peace and prosperity and contentment, all thanks to harmony and the Magic of Friendship... and it's made us incapable of protecting ourselves when that magic is not enough.

“And that's why I'm so mad,” Twilight added, and then paused to clench her jaw for a moment. “Because it's ridiculous, utterly ridiculous the way reality is set up, that the reward for victory is to eventually lose everything you've won. That a civilization that builds itself on good qualities such as love and harmony can so easily be threatened with complete destruction by a force made up of the wicked, the greedy, or the desperate. It's as if all of existence, all of creation and even beyond is stacked against everything we consider good and right and rewards those who are evil and depraved.”

Twilight fell silent just then, as her thoughts and emotions started to run away from her. She stopped her pacing and just stood still for a moment, before she shook her head again, as if to chase out the cobwebs. “I'm just so angry,” she began, quietly. “Because it's a cycle without end, and no place is immune. Even if we beat O'Connell, another enemy will crop up sooner or later. And then another, and then another... and eventually, Equestria will fall. Whether to an invading army or the populace's own growing inertia, the result will be the same: the dream will end, peace will be replaced with strife, and everything, everything we've fought for, everything we stand for will be cast aside and forgotten like a used toiletry!” Twilight grimaced at that, and then turned to face away from Luna and lit up her horn. A matching aura surrounded the table in the room, and before the princess could even think to ask about the unicorn's intentions, the entire mass of the table and the scraps on it was hurled across the small room and into a wall. The table shattered and the horrendous noise of metal and wood smashing and scraping against itself made Luna wince, but she remained calm as her eyes fell again to Twilight Sparkle.

She was panting, though Luna could tell it was not from the exertion of the body or even magic, but rather her own tortured mental state. Soon enough, Twilight turned back around to face the alicorn, and her face was a twisted mess of emotions. “What is it all good for?” Twilight asked, plaintively. “So many good ponies died yesterday, so many will in the future, my brother may yet die, and for what? For a peace that won't last? To protect a populace that's grown so used to that protection that they can't even look out for themselves anymore? To sustain a way of life that has only stagnated us to the point that when something truly challenging comes along we all but fold up in front of it?

“What good...” Twilight choked up then, and her eyes filled with tears. “What good is the Magic of Friendship when the security it brings us is an illusion just waiting to be shattered by the cold hoof of reality?”

Luna could only look on in stunned silence for a moment, but soon her eyes filled up with tears of her own. Slowly, she reached a foreleg to the side, and then patted the floor next to her. “Sit with me, Twilight Sparkle,” she said, softly inviting. Twilight frowned a bit in confusion, but she complied and walked over to take her seat beside the alicorn. Once again Luna reached out a wing and wrapped it around Twilight's back and shoulders, though this time she pulled it a bit tighter and made it into a gentle hug. “Only thou may answer the questions you have posed.”

Twilight looked up at the princess in confusion. “But... I've already spent so much time wondering, trying to think of an answer and I can't find one.”

“And that is why you fail,” Luna lightly admonished. “Twilight Sparkle, you of all ponies in this world should know by now that the Magic of Friendship is not the magic of the mind, as unicorns practice it. There art no spells to cast, no tomes to pen and study in dusty libraries. It is not the magic of the elements that grants pegasi their flight and abilities and is honed as one would train muscle. Nor is it the magic of the earthers that works in such harmony with their very bodies that it is hardly noticed at all, and works by instinct alone.

“The Magic of Friendship is that of the heart, of the very souls the creator granted us,” Luna continued, her tone soft and understanding. “It is the shining jewel that lies in the heart of every good pony—of every good person, no matter their species. It can become tarnished, it can be buried, but it can never be destroyed so long as you hold onto it. My sister believed in that, and it is the sole reason that I remain alive today, for she was willing to risk my madness and the problems it caused a second time by locking me in the moon with the Elements.” Luna paused, and then took in a breath to fortify herself. “She could have killed me, you know,” she said, which caused Twilight to stare at her in shock. “She didn't have to use the Elements, for she had her guards distract and harry me, and in that confusion, in my madness, she could have plunged her spear into my chest a half-dozen times and ended the threat to the principality for once and for all.

“Celestia risked so much: I could have descended deeper into my rage and killed her guards. I could have unleashed terrible spells to induce madness, or warp the minds of our subjects. I could have flown to the gates of Tartarus and released the terrible abominations that are sealed within. But she risked it all because she believed that no pony is beyond redemption, that all the pain and strife was worth it to save even one deluded mare from her madness...” Luna sighed at that and hung her head. “She believed in that, even when other ponies told her it was hopeless. Despite all the logic against her, despite having no evidence, she trusted in the Magic of Friendship, and that one day a new set of Bearers would rise to the challenge.

“So thou must look within thyself, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna added, and then turned her head back to face Twilight once again. “Do not try to reason it out, but instead ask deeply of your own soul the questions thou possesses.”

Twilight frowned at her liege. Soon enough, however, she nodded, and then turned her head forward and closed her eyes. What is it all good for? she asked herself, amidst a pang and sadness and self-pity. Why? Why fight, why struggle so hard when nothing we do, nothing we build will last? What is the point?

Silence. No words met her plea, no revelation surfaced in her mind, and Twilight frowned again even as she felt her eyes tear up once more. Typical, she bitterly though. No answers, no reasons, just nothing. Just like when I tried to figure out Pinkie Pie...

A thought entered her head then, and Twilight found it hard not to focus on the memory of that rather painful week. Despite herself and the situation, she couldn't help but smile at the past. Even after all of that, even after me being so skeptical to the point of being insulting, Pinkie was just happy she could share some time with me. And it's kind of funny, but that situation was turned right around on me when I tried telling Rainbow Dash how great reading could be, and now she can hardly pull herself away from the adventure novels. Like how Rarity obsesses over a new client's dress, always trying to treat them the same way Applejack treats her family. Or how Fluttershy tends to her animals and spends so much time trying to make their lives so much better, even though they have such short lifespans and—

Her eyes snapped open as a realization flooded into her mind. Tears immediately came to them, and Twilight had to take a few shuddering breaths to calm herself. “My friends,” she began, sotto voce.

“What about them?” Luna asked, softly.

Twilight flinched a bit, as she had briefly forgotten the princess was even there, but she soon recovered and looked up at Luna. “Everything,” she replied. “Everything about them. And my family, and all the ponies who live their lives right and true,” Twilight elaborated, and then closed her eyes again. “It doesn't matter, that nothing we do will truly last. Before we're born we have no burden, and after we die our trials have ended. But in between,” she continued, and then opened her wet eyes to look up at Luna once again. “We have the ability to make ponies happier, to help others and to brighten the world, and whether or not that continues after we're gone is the responsibility of those who'll come after.”

“And they will have nothing but good examples to live up to,” Luna added, with a smile. “Examples that will light their way even through the darkest of times, and remind them that just as the good times will end, so too will the suffering pass and be consigned to memory. That cycle you mentioned goes both ways after all, my friend.” Twilight blushed at that, and the resolution of her inner conflict finally allowed Luna to ask a question that had been niggling in the back of her mind. “But please indulge me, Twilight; if thou had such doubts before, then thy answer that thou agreed with Rainbow Dash seems... illegitimate.”

Twilight's blush deepened at that, and she turned her head down in a sheepish manner. “Oh, well... ostensibly, I do agree with her. But yes, they aren't exactly the reasons for why I want to volunteer,” she replied, and then slowly looked back to the alicorn. “But it's not revenge, either. If I wanted revenge, I could teleport into the prison camp for the griffins captured after the battle and pop their heads like bubble wrap.” Twilight blinked then, as she realized what she had said, and then gave a weak, sheepish smile to a shocked-looking Luna. “Er, I didn't exactly say I hadn't thought about revenge, just.... I certainly know that's not the right thing to do.”

“I... see...” Luna responded, as she pushed down the sudden, irrational fear she felt towards the unicorn. “Well then, pray tell me what did inspire you?”

Sparkle pursed her lips a bit, and then sighed. “Because... it's what Shining Armor would have done,” she replied, softly. “He would know how important this coming battle is, how we would need to put our best hoof forward, and he would have been on the front lines even if he had to resign his commission and leave Cadence tied up in their bedroom so she couldn't drag him back.” The two shared a chuckle at that, and Twilight continued. “I knew, intellectually, that the reasons Dash gave were good ones. But really, I just wanted to make sure that no matter what there would be a powerful unicorn in the fight, because that's what Shiny would have wanted. Even if he would've sooner tied me up as well to keep me from going out there.

Luna could only smile at that, although it was a sad one. She then stood up slowly and took a few steps away from Twilight Sparkle. “He wouldst not have been the only one,” she said, morosely.

Twilight frowned at the words, and she stood to walk over and face her liege. “Are you saying what I think you're saying, Luna?” she asked, bemused. “Are you saying you'd keep me here against my will?”

“What I am saying, Twilight, is that thou art more important to Equestria's future than thou realizes,” Luna replied, somewhat evasively.

“What does that mean?” Twilight pressed, as she grew more frustrated. “I know you're not happy at Dash and I risking ourselves. But what Dash said, and what I've learned just now... We can't just hide in a cellar and wait to be taken out when we're needed, like some piece of machinery or an old photo album. We're ponies for pity's sake! If we can't make our own decisions in our lives now, then O'Connell has already won!”

“I know this!” Luna snapped, and then grimaced as she saw Twilight flinch back at the harsh tone. “Forgive me,” the princess added, more softly. “But thou doth not speak any words I have not heard before... or used with my sister.”

“Sister?” Twilight asked, as she blinked in surprise. “What does Celestia have to do with this?”

Luna didn't reply immediately, but instead started to do some pacing of her own. She remained silent for a few moments, and then stopped and turned to face the other pony once again. “She has... plans, for you,” the dark alicorn explained.

“Plans?” Twilight echoed. “What plans?”

“Trials,” Luna replied. “Tests to push you, to make thee grow and to learn valuable lessons to temper thine mind and outlook.”

Twilight took a step forward and closer to Luna. “For what?” she pressed.

Silence met her question, but it was brief as Luna could only sigh. “It is... not my place to say,” she temporized.

“But it's your place to tell me Celestia has some sort of mysterious plan for me?” Twilight incredulously asked.

“Nay, I should not have mentioned even that,” Luna replied, and then started to pace again. “I promised her that I would remain silent and not interfere, no matter how much I disagreed with her.”

A look of anger washed over Twilight's features, and she stepped forward to forcefully insert herself in front of Luna's path. “Luna, you have to tell me,” Twilight said. “I trust your sister—and you—with my life. But I do not appreciate being manipulated or controlled.”

“Neither of which is part of her plan,” Luna retorted. Another silent moment passed between them, albeit mercifully brief as the alicorn shook her head. “I should not say a word... but events have come to pass far too speedily and even Celestia could not anticipate an invasion from beyond the stars.” She paused at that, and then sighed again and sat down on the floor. “But know this, Twilight Sparkle: once I speak to thee of the future, thou may find viewing thyself and thy place in this world far more differently.”

Twilight bit her lower lip as she thought for a moment, but soon nodded. “Alright,” she said, and then sat down in front of Luna. “I might not like what I hear, but I want to hear it.”

Luna nodded back, and then took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I must lay some groundwork first. Celestia hath told me of thine entrance exam for her school, and being the one it is about I am sure thou art familiar with that story as well. So I must ask thee, if the requirement to enter Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns is to hatch a dragon's egg, and there are hundreds of students in said school, then why art there not more dragons, babies or otherwise, living in Equestria today?”

The unicorn could only blink at that for a good, solid moment. “I've always wondered that myself, actually,” she replied. “It did seem kind of odd that Spike was the only one around.”

“Then understand that the test was never intended to be completed,” Luna continued, and then waited as Twilight once again struggled with her confusion. “That egg... if I recall correctly, it was white with green dots all over it. Am I correct?”

“Er, yes,” Twilight answered. “But how—”

“—Did I know of it when I was locked in the moon for a thousand years?” Luna finished the question for her, and then smirked slightly when Twilight nodded. “Because, faithful student of my sister, that egg hath been in the possession of Celestia's school and its predecessor for nearly fifteen hundred years.”

“What!” Twilight exclaimed. “But that's not possible! Eggs aren't viable forever, and even though dragons aren't well understood I'm sure that even one of theirs couldn't have been able to hatch fifteen centuries later.”

“Thou art correct, for the most part,” Luna explained. “Dragon eggs do last for a long time, up to three centuries I believe was the record. But if it were not hatched before then, it would never hatch.”

Twilight bit her lower lip. “Is... that what happened to Spike's egg?”

“Nay,” Luna replied, and shook her head to reinforce the answer. “That egg was a dud; they sometimes happen, unfortunately, even when properly taken care of. Celestia personally knew the being who laid it, and the nature of the incident haunted the poor dragoness so much that my sister offered to take the egg away so the lady wouldst not be forced to either crush the egg, or leave it around and be constantly reminded of the loss. The dragoness agreed and left Equestria soon after, and since dragon eggs are notoriously magic resistant, it found a place in testing prospective unicorn prodigies.”

“But,” Twilight interjected. “If the egg was a dud, and magic resistant to boot, then why use it to test unicorn magic? And how could I have hatched it anyway when I was a mere filly?”

“To answer those questions in order, it is used because the test isn't whether or not a pony can perform a miracle, but to see how they handle adversity,” Luna explained. “The mark of a truly great pony is not their raw power, but how they apply themselves and how determined they are to achieve the goals set before them. That is what the dud egg tested, and from what I am told you scored very well on the test even before the start of your little incident.

“As to the second question...” Luna trailed off, and then sighed once more. “I shall be blunt: thou art not a normal pony.”

“Eh... excuse me?” Twilight confusedly asked.

“No normal filly could have hatched that egg. Even a full-grown alicorn would have been hard-pressed, and most likely would have failed anyway,” Luna said, taking her time to make sure her words were clearly understood. “Yet thou did. My sister saw this, and she was impressed. More so, when the simple touch of a hoof snapped you out of your thaumaturgical convulsion and you unconsciously set things right.”

“I... I didn't do that,” Twilight said, disbelieving. “Celestia cast a spell to fix everything, she told me.”

“She lied,” Luna replied. “Please understand, she did not hold the Element of Honesty, and while in no way is her heart larcenous she hath never been tied to the truth as much as myself. It certainly makes her a better politician, and in this case it allowed her to keep the full knowledge of your abilities to herself alone.”

Twilight could only stare at Luna, completely flummoxed at the story the alicorn was telling her. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“What I mean, Twilight Sparkle, is thou art not one of the most powerful unicorns in all of Equestria,” Luna answered. “Thou art the most powerful unicorn in all the land. My sister saw this and hath been molding and grooming thee ever since.”

“For what?” was all Twilight could say.

Luna paused, and then gave Sparkle a flat, humorless grin. “To prepare you for your inevitable ascension into an alicorn, and become the fourth princess of Equestria.”

Nothing was said for several long moments, and neither pony moved. Then, with a groan, Twilight's eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted.

Luna shook her head, even as she caught Twilight in her telekinesis so the unicorn wouldn't bang her head. “And here I am with no witnesses to help me win the bet,” she grumbled. 'Tia still owes me fifty bits, though.

* * * *

It was dark. Dark enough to drive a man mad, had one been in the place. Noises came from outside the enclosed space, and soon blinding light flooded in as the door was opened.

James McKenna could only grin as he opened the small, almost forgettable storage locker wedged into a space between the curve of the inner hull and the side of the Heart of Steel's small weapons armory. “And here we are,” he said, for the sake of his companions.

“Okay,” Rainbow Dash—now sans harness—said, as she took to the air and fluttered high enough to look over the human's shoulder. “So this is where you keep your souvenirs and junk. Why are we here again?”

James sighed at that. “It's not just souvenirs we keep here, but also some heraldry and banners,” he patiently explained. For the third time, he thought. “I'm here because this coming battle is important, and I wanted to get a flag out for it for sentimentality's sake. You're here because my wife doesn't like the fact that I've got a busted arm, and since you're the scrub she gave you the unfortunate task of trying to babysit me.” He paused, and then glanced down to the third member of their little group. “As for miss Belle, she's here because my darling Rebecca is a sadist at heart and enjoys my suffering.”

“Really now, there's no need to be insulting,” Rarity sniffed, though her tone of voice told Dash that she wasn't truly angry. “Missus McKenna and I had such a lovely talk about uniforms and she was insistent that I take into account your tastes in colors and symbols. That is why I am here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” James muttered, as he opened a storage box and rifled through it with his good hand. “Please understand, miss Belle—“

“Rarity,” the unicorn interrupted. “I prefer the singular name, standing alone as its meaning implies. It's far more fitting that way for an up-and-coming fashionista, don't you think?”

James glanced back at that, and then shared a look with Rainbow Dash before they both rolled their eyes. He then turned back to his task, though he resumed speaking. “Anyway, as I was saying, I'm mainly complaining about my wife and her sudden obsession for uniforms. Her decision to 'include' me, despite all stated intentions, is merely rubbing my nose in the fact that she has decided to proceed no matter what I have to say and thus infuriates me with my own helplessness. Since she's had similar little episodes like this before, I can only conclude that she thoroughly enjoys my suffering. So while your company is by no means offensive by itself, miss Rarity, it is nonetheless a grating reminder that Rebecca enjoys twisting the knife whenever she can.”

Both ponies in the room could only stare at the human in mild shock, for which the human was grateful. Maybe now I can—aha! “Here we go,” he said, and then pulled out a polished wooden case, rectangular in its two larger dimensions and only a few inches thick. He quickly turned away from the closet and then took a few steps over to a shelf mounted on the wall of the small room and set down the box so he could work its latches. Curious, both Rarity and Dash moved to get a good look, with the latter still hovering in mid-air.

James ignored them for the moment, and instead simply opened the box and then grinned at the contents. “Still in good condition,” he said, as he lightly touched each of the two flags stored in the box in turn.

“May I?” Rarity asked, in a polite tone. When James turned to give her a questioning look, she smiled. “My interest may be mostly in clothing, but I've always had an eye for any sort of cloth work,” she explained. “Tapestries, heraldry, flags, they're all so interesting in that a little piece of cloth can profoundly affect ponies, so I admit to being a bit curious.”

Despite his earlier irritation James found he could only smile back. “Alright, go ahead,” he said, and then stepped aside. “Just don't let either touch the floor, okay?”

“I understand perfectly,” Rarity said, as she lit up her horn and used her magic to lift the flag that had caught her eye the most. It was folded into a triangle, and the rich blue with white stars reminded her of Equestria's own flag. Yet after she levitated it into the air between the three persons and unfolded it, she was surprised to see that the star field was only a small portion of the flag; three quarters of it was taken up by red and white stripes. “My goodness,” she said, confused. “What a busy design.”

“But an important one,” James interjected. “This is the Stars and Stripes, a flag belonging to a long-gone, but important nation called the United States of America. They were only around for a relatively short time, but the mark they left on history... well, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say they pretty much changed the course of all human history, to the point where even today many of their values and beliefs still motivate countless billions and guide our politics.”

“Hm, pity they didn't pick a less gaudy design,” Rarity mused, as she turned the flag around in various positions, all the while observing it. “Still... it's a fashionable gaudy, something that draws the eyes in with strong colors and bold shapes, yet doesn't punish anypony for looking at it.”

“Well, the whole design is supposed to be symbolic,” James responded. “Most flags are, but this one really set the bar for later national banners.”

“Ah,” Rarity said, and then started to fold up the flag as she had found it. “Well, is this what you were looking for?” she asked.

“Not really,” James replied, somewhat sadly. “It's a proud flag, one that should be flown even today... but unfortunately, while the Americans strongly influenced all of humanity, for the most part we've forgotten the ideals they based their original culture upon.” He paused as Rarity finished folding the flag back up, and then gently took it from her telekinetic grasp with a thankful nod to the pony. “It wouldn't feel right to fly it now, not until the republic is reestablished. If it ever is,” he added, and then sighed as he placed the flag back into its storage slot. “But the other flag here, it's from one of the states in that old union, and it has a simpler design and feel.” At this, James picked up the other flag, and then gently proffered it towards Rarity.

Rarity could only nod her own appreciation towards the human, and she quickly collected the flag in her magic and unfolded it. “Hmm, a bit more plain than the other one,” she observed.

“Yes, but it's just as special to me,” James said, and then lightly touched the edge of the fabric. “To me it honors the past, looks to the future, and has respect for God. But mostly,” he added, and then sighed. “It means home.”

Both Rarity and Dash gave the human an odd look at the wistful tone of his voice, but soon returned to looking at the flag. As McKenna said, it was a simpler design, consisting mainly of a white field with a red saltire. But at the center of the cross and overlaid upon it was an image of trees, water, and a human woman dressed in strange clothes dropping flowers into a river, while in the background the sun rose over what looked to be a ship of some kind. Around the edge, written in orange on yellow, were the words: GREAT SEAL OF THE STATE OF FLORIDA * IN GOD WE TRUST.

“This is the flag I bring out whenever I need a boost,” James explained, once he'd given the ponies a moment to look over the banner. They looked to him as Rarity slowly folded it back up with her magic. “It reminds me that no matter what we might lose, no matter how complicated and hard life can get, there's always hope, and there's always home. Wherever that may be.” He gently plucked the flag out of Rarity's magic once she was finished, and then tucked it into the sling supporting his wounded arm so that he could turn and close the storage box on the shelf. The ponies waited patiently as he took the box and returned it to the closet before closing and locking the door to it. Finally, he turned around and nodded to them. “Alright, let's get back and see if everything's ready,” James said, and then led the group out of the armory.

* * * *

Canterlot, Equestria

Late Afternoon

September 25th, AD 3070/1023 RC

James couldn't help but smile a bit as the Highlander's Diagnostic Interpretation computer went through its final startup procedures. “Reactor; online. Sensors; online. Weapons; online. Communications; online. All systems; nominal.”

“Does it do that every time?” a voice asked to his left, and the mechwarrior slowly turned his head, heavy neurohelmet and all, to regard passenger strapped into the cockpit's fold-down auxiliary seat. The unicorn wore a headset tied into the communications network and a standard cooling vest, though for ponies the latter article was almost a full body sleeve.

Fortunately for them, James mused. That fur's gonna make the heat worse for 'em, so it's good that they have something to balance that out. I'm going to have to give McCoy his docked pay back for how he's managed to splice in secondary cooling lines.

The pony said his name, and James had to shake his head a bit to chase out the cobwebs. “Sorry, I was woolgathering a bit,” he said, and then turned around to seat himself properly once again. “Yeah, it does that every time. Believe it or not, it actually gets comforting after a while as it becomes a familiar routine.”

“I'll take your word for it,” his guest replied, a tone of disbelief in her voice. “So... I guess it's time to go?”

“Yup,” McKenna replied, as he lowered his good hand to the throttle. “I'll have to be careful with my arm being all torn up, but I should be able to get us to the palace and meet up with the pony troops there with no problems so long as I take it easy.” With that, he pushed the throttle on the left side of his command couch slightly forward, and the 90-tonne 'mech lurched into motion in response. “And on the way there, maybe you can tell me how you got princess Luna to let you come along?”

Twilight Sparkle blushed, and was thankful that McKenna was too busy piloting the BattleMech through the Heart of Steel's 'Mech bay to look at her. “She wasn't exactly happy about it, that's for sure,” she said, and then thought back to only a few hours ago.

* * * *

“Thou art too valuable to Equestria alive,” Luna said, fiercely. The two had been arguing since Twilight awoke from her brief faint, and the alicorn's face was weary.

“I don't belong to Equestria,” Twilight retorted. “I'm not some piece of property to hoard like a miser with her coins.”

“It is not about being owned!” Luna snapped. “It's about how important thou art!”

“To your sister's plan?” Twilight acidly asked.

“Dost thou think I give a whit of care for Celestia's machinations?” Luna countered. “They pale in comparison to the threat we face.”

“Then why—” Twilight began, but was quickly cut off.

“Thou art important to us!” Luna interrupted, with tears in her eyes much to Twilight's surprise. Slowly, the alicorn drew in a deep, calming breath, and then sat down. “Thou art the first friend I have had in more than a thousand years. Even before my banishment I had no friends, as my old ones had died years before and the younger ponies treated me with fear and suspicion simply because I ruled and protected them in the night. They thought that I was just another monster that crept in the darkness...”

Twilight was stunned at this revelation. Luna's silent tears, however, bade her to move forward, and the unicorn quickly moved to sit next to her liege and wrap a foreleg around her shoulders in a hug. “That's why it hurt you so much to see ponies running from you that first Nightmare Night back, isn't it?”

“Aye,” Luna replied, sadly. “I thought they had never changed, and still hated me as a monster. But then thou came to me and worked to ingratiate me with the town,” she continued, and then lifted her head to look at Twilight. “Thou saw who I really was, and cared enough to make other ponies see me in the same light. It is the second greatest kindness I have been ever shown, with my sister's forgiveness the only one to eclipse it.”

Twilight felt her own eyes tearing up. “Luna...” she said, quietly.

“And I didst mean 'us',” Luna continued. “'Tia—Celestia didn't lay out her plans on a whim. She saw within thee a great potential when thou were a foal, but didst not plan for thy ascension until after thou had stopped me and cleansed my madness. I wish thou could have seen how proud she was, how she spoke of thy bravery and dedication.”

Twilight felt her ears wilt, and the tears started to pour out of her. “Sh–she did?”

“Indeed,” Luna replied, and then managed a wan smile through her melancholy. “Thou ceased to be an ordinary student to her long ago, Twilight Sparkle. By now she considers thee as a daughter, though she wouldst never tell thee that herself; she hath seen how being her student already stresses thee, and to add to that would be foalishness. But she is proud of you, Twilight.

“Which is why I cannot fathom letting thou go into battle,” Luna continued, and then released a sad sigh. “If thou perished, it would break my sister's heart. And mine. And those of thy friends,” she added, soberly.

Twilight had nothing to say to that, and so remained silent as she ducked her head and struggled with her emotions. Eventually, however, she breathed deeply, and then returned her gaze to Luna's eyes. “Thank you,” she said, quietly.

“For what?” Luna asked, confused.

“For being my friend,” Twilight replied, and then gave a wan smile of her own. “For looking out for me. For caring so much.” Slowly her smile died, and she shook her head. “But... a pony has to know when it's time to stop arguing, and to accept that her friend has made a choice.” Twilight paused to bite her lip for a moment and gather her thoughts, and then moved on. “I need to help. Not just for Shining Armor, not just for my friends, but for everypony, and every being on this world who wants to just be left alone.

“You said that Celestia wants to make me a princess?” the unicorn asked, and only waited a moment for Luna to nod. “Well, what kind of princess could I be if I stayed behind and let others fight for me? Celestia didn't do things that way, and I know if you weren't needed in Canterlot to keep the government from imploding in outright fear you'd be out there as well. You two and Cadence have set the bar high, and I can't allow myself the luxury of waiting until I somehow grow a pair of wings to finally mare up and act the way I should have been acting the whole time.”

Luna smiled, and even managed a rueful chuckle. “Thou makes a solid point,” she admitted, and then shook her head as the mirth passed. “Art thou sure I cannot persuade thee otherwise?”

“Not unless you're going to ruin the ideal of an Equestrian princess by starting to act like Blueblood,” Twilight replied, with a smirk.

Another chuckle escaped Luna's muzzle, and she wore a less strained smile. Again it was brief, and she sighed. “Very well, I shall not stand in thine way,” she said, slowly. “But I beg of you, Twilight, please come back.”

“I will,” Twilight replied, with a smile. “I'll even Pinkie Promise it,” she said, and then made the motions.

Another smile graced Luna's muzzle at that. “I am far too old for such silly things... but thank th—thank you, Twilight Sparkle.”

* * * *

“You okay?”

Twilight startled a bit, and she blushed again as she found that James had once again strained to turn his helmeted head around to view her. “I'm fine,” she answered. “Sorry, I was just... thinking.”

“Might want to wait on that,” James replied, with a smirk, and then shifted to seat his neurohelmet on his shoulders once again. “There'll be plenty of time for that during the march. Besides that, we're here.”

The last sentence caught Twilight by surprise, but she quickly recovered and turned her head to look out of the Highlander's ferroglass cockpit. In front of her was the Royal Palace, its ramparts crowded with numerous ponies who had yet to be evacuated. They were all staring out at the Highlander and the other two BattleMechs waiting in the square in front of the palace; Schneider's Firestarter and Franz Mendoza's Commando. The two were standing on either side of the many ranks of pony guards and soldiers who were at attention in perfect box formations, their gold-painted armor and naked spear tips gleaming in the sun. The only break from the uniformity of their appearance was twenty earth ponies, carrying either the new recoilless rifles or their ammunition, and the humanoid figures of the Blackfoot, who had been deployed to try and add one last touch up to the ponies' training that morning.

And standing tall on top of the palace's gatehouse was princess Luna, her magic-infused hair shimmering in a wind that was, for once, actually there; a breeze ruffled the manes and tails of every pony in the square. Scarcely had McKenna brought his war machine to a halt in front of the impressive display before Luna began to speak, using the Royal Canterlot Voice to project her words across the wide open spaces and into the ears of every being there. “Commander James McKenna VII,” she said, the distance making her volume tolerable. “As a princess of Equestria I, Luna Nightbringer, Mistress of the Moon, Duchess of Yoke, Consul of Cloudsdale, Viscountess of Maremansk, Baroness of Las Neighgas and Salt Lick City, do hereby place thee in command of the First Division of Our Royal Guards and Army and charge thee to defend the realm from the forces of the renegade O'Connell and his griffon allies.”

James licked his lips as he waited for Luna to finish, and then reached out to turn on his external speakers. Good thing they coached me beforehand. “Princess of the Night, I am humbled by this charge, and I pledge to you that I shall carry it out to the best of my abilities. God willing, we shall prevail.” The last sentence was his own addition, but Luna had no objection to it when he brought it up it earlier.

“Then go, with my blessing,” Luna replied. “May the sun and moon guide you.”

“And may the Force be with you,” a voice interjected, straight into McKenna's ear.

James turned off his external speakers at that, and then let out a groan. “Goddammit, Dorian,” he said, after triggering his radio. “You're making me regret having Hermes pipe this to the rest of the unit.”

“Sorry, boss, I couldn't help myself,” Dorian replied, apologetically.

“Just keep the channels clear,” James added. “Now, let's do this properly. Dark Horse Three, pick up our infantry. Nine, you take caboose position. I'll take the lead through the city.”

A chorus of affirmation came through the radio, though one voice chimed in at the end. “Do you still want me to do that thing, boss?” April Lewis asked.

James couldn't help but grin a bit. “Indeed. I'll hold 'er steady for ya,” he replied. “Now hurry up and get up here.”

“Yes sir,” Lewis answered, and then trotted forward. Unlike the other Blackfoot, she had stood near the front of the ponies' formations, alongside their color guard. This was thanks to the fact that she held McKenna's favored flag on a pole and was acting as an impromptu color guard herself. The flag waved brilliantly as she moved forward, and then hit her jump jets once she was a good distance away from the guardsponies. The ponies watching from the palace gasped in surprise at the event and their eyes were riveted on Lewis as she alighted on top of the Highlander's distinctly flat head and then proudly held the flag up and to the side with one hand while the other reached for and gripped the hardened radio antenna that stuck up from the top of the BattleMech. “Okay, I'm good,” she said, as she took a wide-legged stance.

James couldn't help but chuckle a bit. “Alright,” he said, and then switched to his external speakers again. “Expeditionary force, forward march!” he called out, and then turned his 'mech around and started it off back the way he had come through Canterlot's widest avenues. Behind him the ranks of the guard marched forward with impeccable precision, and they quickly caught up to and matched the leisurely 10 km/h speed McKenna had set his throttle at. Even as he did this, he grinned evilly and reached out with his hand to flip a few more controls on the side of his command console. “Some music for everyone to get us in the mood,” he said, with his external speakers still engaged. One final button press activated the song he'd set up, and it began to play through the external speakers as well.

Despite the fact he couldn't see her, Twilight Sparkle gave James a perplexed look as the metal song began to play, though her confusion died out as the lyrics made themselves known. “You're some kind of crazy, do you know that?” she asked, though she couldn't keep a grin off of her face nor the mirth from her voice.

McKenna chuckled. “Yeah, well, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't a little bit nuts,” he replied. The two then fell silent as James concentrated on piloting, and Twilight found herself looking out at the streets of the capital, both in sadness at the damage she saw and hopeful determination to keep what was left safe.

Here and there were more ponies who had yet to leave the city, and they cheered wildly as the parade of human and pony military forces moved through the streets. A few pegasi, teenagers mostly, even flew up to the same level as the Highlander's head, and they waved both at the cockpit and, Twilight presumed, at Lewis, as their gazes shifted higher. Twilight wanted to wave back but she knew that they couldn't see her through the polarized ferroglass, and so contented herself with the knowledge that the mere sight of such a powerful behemoth on their side was already doing good things for the city's morale.

Soon enough the streets ended and the parade was marching out of the gates and onto the grassy fields beyond Canterlot's walls. Waiting there were the rest of the Dark Horse BattleMechs, lined up on either side of the road into the city. The radio clicked on again, and Twilight listened carefully as Rebecca McKenna spoke up. “You know, April, you don't have to sit up there and indulge my husband's eccentricities,” she said.

Surprisingly, Lewis replied with a laugh. “Ma'am, I'm suited up in powered armor strong enough to rip the turret off of a tank, holding a flag up for a military unit as I ride on top of a ninety-ton war robot while heavy metal music plays around me. I have never before felt so Goddamned sexy in my entire life and with all due respect, I pity anyone who isn't in my position right now.”

A round of raucous laughter filled the commnet at that, and even Rebecca managed to laugh along with everyone else. “Point taken, April,” the red-haired McKenna allowed. “And I admit, I feel just a teensy bit jealous.”

Twilight smiled and shook her head at that, even as James cut into the conversation. “Alright, boys and girls,” he said, and then shifted his head a bit as if he were about to turn it. He didn't, however, and then spoke up again. “And I suppose colts and fillies, as well,” he added, and then flashed a quick thumbs-up to Twilight Sparkle. “We're on our way.”

Author's Notes:

And finally, it's out.

I am so sorry it's taken so long, but I've been dealing with a long bout of depression. Still, I'll finish this story even if it kills me; rest assured I'll be focusing more on it soon now that we're finally getting to the big stompy robots and magic-slinging ponies having it out in a conflagration of utter insanity. A good portion of the next chapter is already written; I actually had to stop and create this one because I felt there were certain scenes that needed to be done and ideas established before we actually waded into it.

Still, I am also sorry for the amount of technobabble, but I felt I really had to set up what I had in mind, instead of springing it on you during the battle to come and thus distracting both you and me from the actual events of the fight. This way I hope the processes at work will be nice and clear so that I can maintain a fast and hectic pacing for the next chapter that can help convey the speed and ferocity of mechanized warfare.

Also, in case you missed the link in the text and don't know what the chapter title is for, listen to this song. DO IT, FILLY. I basically consider it the unofficial theme song of BattleTech/MechWarrior.

Hopefully the next chapter will be out much sooner... But don't quote me. My muse loves to let me make such declarations, then runs away and hides. PINKIE PIE, THOU ART A HARSH MISTRESS.

And she smiles...

Anyway, enough insanity. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and if you have complaints about my headcanon, I'm sorry, I'm not going to change it because you disagree with me, whether you're polite and rational about it or foam at the mouth. If you don't like it then I invite you to write your own story; why do you think I write? I want to see my own ideas put out, and was tired of not seeing them in fiction. So as Iron Will says: Don't debate, create!

EDIT TO NOTE: Forgot to mention, I have finally set the timeline for this story as taking place between the end of Season 2 and before the beginning of Season 3.

Chapter 18 - Battle of Dawn's Ridge

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Desperadoes Main Column

Sunrise Mountain Range, Equestria

September 27th AD 3070/1023 RC

It was a beautiful day in Equestria. Sunlight poured down through partly-cloudy skies to illuminate a lush countryside of rolling, grass-covered hills, patches of forest, and picturesque streams, through which a column of robotic war machines marched towards combat.

Garth O'Connell frowned as he rode in the cockpit of his Battlemaster, the 85-tonne 'mech secure in the middle of his forces. The sound of dozens of 'mechs tromping through the unspoilt terrain was loud enough to be heard even through the ferroglass cockpit; the constant, dull roar a soft background noise to his own 'mech's footfalls and the rumble of its engine. And that's all I'm hearing, the rogue mercenary thought, as he glanced over the multi-function displays on his control console. Two days. We've been marching two days, and the only fighting we've had was from the griffons skirmishing with that pegasus scout group.

The thought of the small fight the previous day made O'Connell briefly shake his head. They know we're coming; can't really get air superiority over creatures that can just duck down and wait for your fighters to pass, after all. He looked up at the holographic HUD then, and scanned the image that compressed the three-hundred sixty degree surroundings into a one-hundred eighty degree arc a half-meter from his face. Moving in lance groupings around him were the remaining operational 'mechs of his battalion, minus Thompson's Spider, per O'Connell's earlier decision. Also, it doesn't hurt to leave someone behind to keep the locals in line, the major briefly mused, before his thoughts returned to the march. Are they just going to wait and hole up in their capital? That doesn't seem like McKenna, if what we've heard about him is true. Yet you'd think he would have come at us with a hit-and-run by now. O'Connell snorted briefly. Not that it'd do much.

His confidence was, for once, well-placed. The griffons supporting his campaign had suffered during the attack on Canterlot—I hate that name. Stupid ponies and their damned puns—and much of their posturing had faded as a result, leaving them more susceptible to his direction. Although reinforced the very next day, the heavy toll inflicted by the pony defenders and McKenna's forces had knocked the more antagonistic griffon leaders down a peg, leaving toms like Garadan to successfully advocate closer cooperation with the humans. And a damn good thing, too, O'Connell mused, as he cast his eyes upward and saw flights of the predatory beings moving through the air, providing cover against another pegasus dive-bombing attack and scouting ahead, to the sides, and even to the rear of the Desperadoes, just in case the enemy tried to take them off-guard. This let O'Connell concentrate his light and fast medium 'mechs into a tighter formation, which consequently decreased their usual vulnerability to being singled out and taken down one-by-one, as so often happened to scout 'mechs operating in restrictive terrain. And it lets me use them as a fast response force, as well, Garth thought, with a smirk. This is a good set-up; plenty of scouts to screen the main body and give fair warning of incoming attacks, fast-reacting mobile lances for reacting to probes, and a core of slow mediums and heavies to lay the hurt on any serious attempt.

So... where the Hell is McKenna? O'Connell grunted to himself, and his mood darkened. He's up to something, dammit. Either that, or his reputation is completely undeserved. The uncertainty ate at his peace of mind, and the closer they got to their goal the more the mercenary worried. Thus impelled, he reached out to his communication controls and switched channels on his radio. “Desperado Actual to Valkyrie One,” he said, over the air support frequency.

“Valkyrie One here,” the voice of Zachary Carver answered, sounding right into O'Connell's ears.

“Seen anything yet, commander?” O'Connell asked, his tone gruff.

“Nothing yet, Actual,” Carver replied. “The only thing I'm seeing in the sky are clouds and our griffon friends. Haven't had any hits on look-down radar yet, either, though McKenna could be using that ridge you're approaching to keep our sensors from picking him up.”

O'Connell grunted at that, as he couldn't really disagree with the statement. Hell, it's probably even true, the MechWarrior thought. I'd rather just go around, but the damn thing runs for dozens of kilometers and it'd add another day to our march if we took the long way. “Understood, Valkyrie One,” O'Connell said, aloud. “How long until you need to head back for refueling?”

“Actually, I was about to call you about that,” Carver said. “We could be good for another hour, but by then you'll be right in the middle of that ridge. I'd rather head back and top off our tanks before then so we can stay in the air if you hit anything.”

“Very well,” O'Connell replied. “Call Valkyrie Three and Four and have them launch so they can cover us while you land and take care of that.”

“Yes sir,” Carver said. “Valkyrie One out.”

* * * *

James McKenna frowned a bit as he watched the dust plume of O'Connell's 'mechs approach the ridge his own 'mech stood upon. He knew next to nothing about the enemy's exact disposition, as none of his forces were using their active sensors at the moment, and that lack of information concerned him. What if he's dispersed, instead of concentrated? James asked himself, as he shifted uncomfortably in his command couch. What if he's using an unconventional organizational scheme? The intel they had pulled from the downed 'mechs in Ponyville and their captured pilots hadn't shown anything along those lines, but the commander was naturally cautious.

“You look worried,” a voice said, and mildly startled the mechwarrior. Soon enough, however, James remembered the passenger in his cockpit's fold-down seat, and he turned his head—slowly, due to the bulky neurohelmet he wore—to regard Twilight Sparkle sitting there.

“Not so much worried as concerned,” he said, and then turned his head back around to face forward; a much more comfortable position given the weight of his helmet. “All the planning we've done so far has been good, but I can't help to remember the first law of combat: no plan survives first contact with the enemy.”

“So I've read,” Twilight observed.

Although she tried to hide it, James could hear the note of nervousness in her voice. “Having second thoughts?” he asked, albeit without turning his head this time.

Twilight was silent for a moment before she replied. “Not exactly,” she said, softly. “But it is kind of intimidating, knowing that a real battle is almost here. I'd be more worried but...” she paused, and then sighed. “Knowing that Rainbow has already been through something like this and is still mostly herself is somewhat comforting, at least. If she can do it, then so can I.”

James grunted at that, as he glanced over his various MFDs. “Aye, Rainbow Dash has already been in battle,” he said, his tone a bit quieter than usual. “She's seen people die, seen what can happen to her own person.” James briefly paused, and then shook his head. “Her innocence is gone, and nothing can bring it back,” he added, and then glanced over at Twilight again. “You, on the other hand, haven't seen the absolute worst yet, and I worry.”

Twilight found herself blushing again, and she looked down at her front hooves as her forelegs dangled over the edge of the restraining harness that secured her into the seat. “We're not as innocent as you might think, you know,” she said, quietly.

“Probably not,” James quietly agreed. “But you are innocent of things like war, miss Sparkle, and it doesn't make me happy to think that you'll be a different person by the end of the day.” And that I'll be partially responsible for it, he silently added, as a surge of protective feelings washed over him. Confound these ponies and their adorableness.

An uncomfortable silence met his words, and then started to grow awkward as time passed. Eventually, though, Twilight sighed. “Maybe,” she softly said. “But... I had to do something.”

“You could have went with the rest of your friends and help in Canterlot,” James suggested.

“True,” Twilight agreed. “But Pinkie, Rarity, and Fluttershy are much better at that sort of thing than I am. And while I'd love to join with Applejack and help set up that 're-arming point' you spoke of—and trust me, if there's one thing I can do, it's organize,” she added, with a brief smirk. “I just felt like I needed to do more.”

“You've done plenty already,” McKenna observed, and then glanced over to the mare with a raised eyebrow. “Those new spells you helped develop, especially one entirely on your own in a day... I don't think any one person in the Dark Horse could match that sort of skill and dedication. I doubt anyone back home could, either. That's something special.”

Twilight Sparkle blushed at that, and she glanced to the side. “I... thank you,” she said, as she looked back to the human. “But as much as I've done, it doesn't feel like it's enough. Not until I've gone out and faced the same, terrible things others have seen.” Twilight glanced out the canopy at that, and then sighed. “Like Shiny.”

James heard the sad, wistful tone in the mare's voice, and a thought entered his head. “You're really close to your brother, aren't you?” he asked.

Twilight startled a bit at the sudden change of topic, but calmed just as quickly. “I guess it's kind of obvious, isn't it?” she asked, with a sheepish grin.

“Something like that,” James said, with a chuckle. “Trust me, I know what you're going through,” he added, and then sighed. “I feel like that whenever my wife or daughter go into combat, with or without me; that feeling that urges you to do as much as you can, to take as many burdens on yourself as possible, and to be perfect in everything you do just so you won't let them down.”

“Yeah,” Twilight said, with some awe coloring her voice. “That's it, exactly,” she added, and then smiled warmly at the human. “It seems you and I think a lot alike. You're also a lot deeper than you get any credit for.”

James smirked at that, as he gave the pony another sidelong look. “Careful now, I am a married man after all,” he said, and then laughed as Twilight furiously blushed. “Sorry, I had to do that,” he explained, tactfully. “You just made it so easy.”

“No wonder Dash likes being around you humans,” Twilight replied, with an odd expression that was a mix of irritation and amusement. “You guys act so much alike it's scary.”

“Well, we've got a saying back home,” James replied, with a grin. “'Great minds think alike'.”

Twilight frowned at that. “Really? Because here I've noticed a lot of smart ponies can have really different views on—”

A wave from James cut the unicorn off. “It's tongue-in-cheek, miss Sparkle,” he explained. “It's a bit of self-conscious boasting; something we say to act as if we're somehow a 'great mind', even though we know that's not really true.”

“Oh,” Twilight said, and blinked her eyes a bit as she understood. Then she smiled and chuckled. “That's pretty clever, actually.”

James opened his mouth to reply, but was preempted by three long beeps that sounded over the specific, old-style AM channel he had his communications console monitoring. Mirth drained from his face and was replaced with serious thoughtfulness as he shifted in his seat and resumed a proper stance for the control of his 'mech. “They're almost at the op point,” he said, somewhat unnecessarily, as Twilight had been there when the plan was laid out to princess Luna. Still, it's good to reiterate things to make sure everyone's on the same page, the MechWarrior thought. “Make sure your belts are fastened, miss Sparkle, because from here on out it's going to get rather interesting.”

* * * *

“You know, it's the waiting that kills me.”

Alexis Shepard sighed at that. “You just had to use that turn of phrase, didn't you?” she asked, with a glance to her Grand Dragon's passenger. “Do you want to jinx us?”

The beige unicorn in the spare seat rolled his blue eyes. “Look, I'm just trying to keep from being bored,” he stated.

“Running that spell isn't keeping you occupied?” Shepard asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“Not especially,” the stallion replied, with a shrug, as the sky blue glow around his horn remained steady. “Once it's cast, maintaining it is easy enough.”

“Even against radar?” Shepard pressed.

The stallion frowned at her. “Look, miss Shepard,” he began. “We worked with your people on this back in Ponyville. Haystacks and horseapples, Twilight Sparkle herself pretty much ended up writing the thing after she organized and collated all the information we got from the tests. Trust me, this spell will work.”

Shepard scowled at the unicorn for a moment, but soon sighed. “Yeah, I know, Wash,” she said, and then shook her head. “But sitting here, watching them come... it's nerve-wracking.”

Desert Wash grunted at that, as he turned his head to look out through the canopy. “Well... you have me there,” he allowed, as he watched their quarry approach. “It doesn't seem right to just sit here and wait for them to come right up to us.”

Three tones sounded in the cockpit, and Shepard's face split in a feral grin. “Well, you'll be happy to know that'll end soon,” she said.

Desert Wash gave her a dubious look. “Just how soon?” he asked.

“Don't worry about it,” Shepard replied. “Just be prepared to shift those spells of yours once we break cover. I'll handle the rest.”

The stallion looked a bit uncomfortable at that, but he nodded. “Yes, ma'am,” he said, obediently.

* * * *

A sigh, muted by distance, nevertheless twinged Melissa McKenna's nerves just a bit as she readied herself for her wingmate's inevitable protest. “This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever done,” Eddie Rodriguez grumbled, his tone somewhat petulant.

“Will you give it a rest, Eddie?” Melissa called out, as she pulled herself out of the lackadaisical slouch she'd been in while she rested in her Stuka's cockpit. She then turned and cast a tired look across the dozen or so meters that separated the two fighters once she was upright. Both pilots had their canopies open in order to talk without needing to use the radio, and so the conversation was easy enough for them to accomplish. “Just trust my dad's plan, okay?”

“Easy for you to say,” Rodriguez retorted. “It's bad enough we have to sit and wait like big, fat targets,” he said, and then paused as the roar of a fusion rocket passed in the distance. “But sitting here?” he added, with a wave towards the white, fluffy surface their heavy fighters rested upon and were utterly surrounded by, breaking all lines of sight. “Can you consider that it's just a little bit nerve-wracking for me to be sitting in the middle of a freakin' cloud?”

Melissa couldn't help but chuckle a bit at that. “Calm down, Eddie,” she said. “We're fine so long as our friends hold out,” she added, and then glanced back to her fighter's spare seat, wedged in behind her own. Although not a true two-person fighter as it lacked a any control systems for the passenger, there was more than enough room in the 100-ton Stuka for a single rider. “Speaking of which, how are you doing back there, TW?”

Corporal Trade Wind's initial response was just to grunt, as a bead of sweat dripped down his face. “Well enough, miss McKenna,” he replied, after a moment. “Channeling my pegasus magic into this craft is tiring, but I used to do heavier work on the resupply run to the Grainland weather station.”

“Even with just one wing, huh?” Melissa asked, in a concerned tone.

Trade Wind managed to smile up at her. “While wings are needed for control, propulsion, and to focus sufficient energy for flight, any pegasus born can channel enough latent magic through the rest of their bodies to rest on clouds, or pull chariots and carts through the air,” he explained. I'm sure she's already been told this, since we're sitting here, now, the wounded stallion thought. But I recognize a distraction from worry when I see one. Hailbait, I need one myself. “Besides,” he added after a minute, and then let his smile turn into a grin as he raised his voice. “I'll be damned if I don't last longer than Downburst!”

“As if you could, you lazy son of a mule!” the voice of Rodriguez's passenger called out. A yellow-maned, purple stallion poked his head up over the edge of the other Stuka's cockpit at that. “Even missing a wing, I'll still beat you any day of the week!” he added, with a smirk.

Melissa laughed at that, and even Rodriguez managed to crack a smile. Then the warning came over the radio, and both pilots blinked in surprise before they promptly dropped back into their seats. “Get ready to go, TW,” Melissa said, as she pressed the control to close the canopy. “When we get the last signal, all Hell's gonna break loose.”

“I'm ready,” Trade Wind replied, stonily. “Hay, I was born ready.”

“Glad to hear it,” Melissa replied, with a chuckle, as she fastened an oxygen mask to the helmet she wore. “I hope you pegasi can really take the G-forces like Dash said you could.”

“All that, and more,” the guardspony replied. “I just hope your fancy machine doesn't disappoint.”

Melissa paused at that, and then glanced back. “Is that a challenge?” she asked, her voice muffled by her mask.

Trade Wind grinned. “Maybe,” he replied.

“Well then,” Melissa said, as she turned around, and then cracked her knuckles as she began the engine's warm-up procedure. “It will be my pleasure to show you how air support is supposed to work.”

“We'll see,” the stallion allowed.

* * * *

Reikou Ozawa shifted her eyes and used a series of eye-blink commands to switch her battle armor's radio back to normal, and then slowly shifted her arm back to tap a gauntlet-covered hand on the shoulder of her compatriot. “Message sent,” she said, over the external speakers. Her voice barely carried over the thunderous sound of 'mech footfalls, but she saw her fellow Kage trooper nod at her statement. “Time to call targets,” Ozawa added, as she shifted back around so she could lie prone once more upon the ground. Although her armor's stealth systems tended to make it slightly unnecessary to take such additional precautions, the veteran nevertheless had such paranoia drilled into her while fighting against the Clans.

“I've got my eye on a Thunderbolt coming up on our right,” the other soldier, Dale Harrison, replied, without looking back. “Looks like he'll pass right in range.”

Ozawa consulted her suit's HUD, and then nodded to herself. “Sounds good,” she agreed. “I'll take the Starslayer on our left.”

“Roger,” Harrison said, and then sighed. “Pity that bastard O'Connell's too far away,” he muttered, just barely loud enough to be heard. A few moments of silence—at least from the two troopers—passed before he spoke again. “So, how much longer 'til we unmask?”

“Just a little bit more, Dale,” the Combine-born trooper replied. “Remember what the commander said: 'Wait until we can see the whites of their eyes.'”

* * * *

Nothing but breathing and the soft rumble of an idling fusion reactor could be heard in the cockpit of the Stuka. Their radios were silent as all members of the Dark Horse and their allies patiently waited to spring the ambush, and both Melissa and Trade Wind had felt the tension grow until even idle conversation halted. Funny, dad always compared this moment to feeling like a race horse waiting in the gate, Melissa thought, with a smirk. Seems so much more appropriate now, she added, as then went over her fighter's systems on a secondary MFD one more time.

Suddenly, her radio crackled. “Black Eagle One: Execute!”

“Roger wilco,” Melissa replied, as she triggered her radio for the first time that day. A quick flick of a switch on her throttle changed channels, and she spoke next to her wingmate. “Alright, everyone,” she said, knowing that the ponies riding along could hear her through their own headsets. “This is it! Go go go!”

The world seemed to turn inside out at that, as Trade Wind cut off his channeled magic. Gravity took over instantly and the sensation of a sudden freefall made Melissa's stomach want to evacuate her last meal. She had fortunately learned to subdue her body's whims on such matters at the academy, and her conscious mind merely took in data as the Stuka emerged into the clear air beneath the cloud bunker and the ground came into focus two kilometers below. Rodriguez's fighter was alongside, and both were starting to shake with turbulence as their wide wings were not designed for a vertical drop.

Better fix that, Melissa thought, even as she pushed her control stick forward and dropped the Stuka's nose until it was pointed straight down. Rodriguez matched her, and they both throttled their engines into life at the same time as their dive continued.

* * * *

“Contact! Valkyrie Three has contact!” Samantha Leblanc shouted over the radio, her tone one of panicked alarm.

“Where the Hell did they come from?” came the voice of her wingmate.

“Details!” O'Connell shouted, even as he brought his Battlemaster to a halt. “What and where are they?” he asked, as the battalion halted around him.

“Two fighters, they're right on top of you heading straight down!” Leblanc replied. “Oh shit, are they going kamikaze?”

“What!” O'Connell shouted, unnerved by the possibility of his foe turning suicidal.

Such ideas left his head immediately as a voice from his ground forces sounded: “I'm being painted!”

* * * *

“TAG, you're it,” Ozawa said, with a smirk, as the pun tickled her fancy. The Target Acquisition Gear that replaced the support-grade machine gun her suit usually carried under the left arm illuminated the Starslayer she'd targeted with an infrared laser, while it simultaneously transmitted general enemy location information on a secure frequency to any friendly units that could use the data. Like a fighter loaded with laser-guided bombs, the trooper thought, even as she triggered her radio. “Targets are pickled! Drop drop drop!”

* * * *

Melissa heard the call come in, and would have breathed a sigh of relief, had she even a picosecond to spare for anything but her mission and the rapidly approaching ground. The Stuka's battle computer immediately took in the information from the two Kage troopers' TAG systems and marked the painted targets on her HUD with simple identifiers. “I've got 'Alfa',” Melissa snapped, even as she nudged her fighter to the left a bit until the aiming reticule drifted over her target, and then thumbed her bomb release over and over again; ten times in all.

Her fighter shuddered with the release of ten tonnes worth of heavy ordnance, and not a moment too soon for the pilot. She pulled back hard on her stick, throttled her engines to their maximum rating, and then grimaced as the G-forces threatened to pull all the blood from her head. Melissa's flight suit inflated around her legs and waist to prevent a blackout, for which she was grateful as she had no plans in furrowing a crater in Equestria's surface. She instead managed to level her Stuka out at a mere twenty meters above the treetops, and then finally indulged in a brief, relieved sigh. “You still there, TW?” Melissa asked, even as she glanced at her holographic HUD's condensed view to ensure that Rodriguez had followed her out of the dive.

“I'll let you know when my balls drop back out of my body,” the crippled pegasus replied. “Sweet Celestia's teats, I thought we were going to hit the ground!”

“Yeah, dive-bombing is always hairy,” Melissa replied, as she cut her throttle back to a safe setting and then began a turn. Rodriguez followed her movements easily, and she smirked as her HUD painted two targets in the air several kilometers away. Our pals from Canterlot are back, she thought. Pity they'll have to wait their turn. “Hold on to your horseshoes, Windy,” Melissa said, as she finished assuming a reciprocal course. “Because we're going to trim some hedges.”

* * * *

Ozawa winced as every one of the laser-guided bombs slammed into the targeted Starslayer. Each 1000kg bomb blew a sizable chunk out of the BattleMech's hide, and three blasted into the lightly-armored top and back of the enemy war machine to tear at the interior. The shielding around the medium 'mech's fusion reactor was blown away in an instant, and the backlash of escaping plasma sent a tremendous crack ripping through the air before the gutted war machine collapsed into a smoldering ruin.

Another, louder series of explosions sounded behind her, and Ozawa had just enough time to turn around and see the Thunderbolt Harrison had targeted virtually evaporate as one bomb ripped apart the right torso and set off the 'mech's SRM ammunition. A massive orange-white fireball of detonating explosives, missile propellant, and fusion plasma blew apart the heavy 'mech like an over-ripe melon, and its two massive arms flew off to either side, one of them striking a nearby Shadow Hawk in the leg.

She wanted to stare at the spectacle; she wanted to cheer. However, a trio of weapons-grade laser beams cut through the copse of trees the two armored soldiers had used to cover them from being visually spotted, and Ozawa grimaced at how close one came to hitting her suit.

“I think they know we're here,” Harrison spoke over their shared comm circuit, even as he stood. A stream of bullets from a 'mech-grade machine gun punctuated his words as it ripped apart a tree no more than a meter distant.

“No shit, Dale!” Ozawa shouted back, even as she turned and started to run. “Let's get the Hell out of Dodge!”

* * * *

O'Connell cursed as he saw his shots go wide. Damned stealth armor! he mentally railed, even while one of his lancemates—remaining lancemates, he remembered, as the Starslayer was now a burning pyre—turned her attention to the pair of battle armored troopers and fired her Merlin's medium lasers at the foe. Unfortunately for the Desperado MechWarrior, the Kage armor's stealth capabilities kept a BattleMech or tank from gaining a solid lock, and so the shots simply blasted apart a pair of hapless trees. O'Connell wanted to scream at this, and the temptation to do so rose as he saw both suits take to the air on their jump jets and deployed the specialized wings that granted them longer jump distance than most other kinds of battle armor could manage.

So this is his plan? O'Connell thought, as Kilroy quickly performed his executive officer duties and gave out orders to watch the periphery of their column. Bomb us? It can't last, and as powerful as aircraft are, they can't win a war by themselves. The rogue mercenary snorted, even as he reached over to switch channels on his radio. “Valkyrie Three, call Valkyrie One and Two in from the airbase and then engage those fighters,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Leblanc hesitantly replied, as she no doubt remembered that the Stuka outclassed her fighter in every respect save raw maneuverability, and that was only thanks to the Lucifer's lighter mass. “Be advised, they appear to be turning in for strafing run.”

“Understood, Three,” O'Connell replied, and then summarily switched over to the battalion-wide channel. “All units—” he began, but was unable to finish as new alarms triggered in his cockpit when a nearby rock outcropping vanished into thin air.

* * * *

Johannes “Hermes” Schneider winced as he watched two 'mechs disintegrate under the impact of devastatingly accurate dive-bombing. “Damn shame they couldn't get O'Connell,” he muttered, as he spied the enemy commander's Battlemaster a good hundred meters beyond the Kage's TAG range.

“Are we going to get him?” the voice of his passenger asked, and Schneider glanced over to the unicorn mare riding shotgun. The odd contrast between her blue coat and two-toned orange mane made the human blink a bit, and the pony huffed. “We've been sitting here for hours, please tell me we're going to kill the head badguy?”

Schneider looked back out through his cockpit, and then sighed. “Sorry, Firecracker,” he said, evenly. “I'd love to, but he won't be close enough when we break cover,” he explained, and then raised his hand. “Speaking of which, prepare to switch spells on my command.”

“Yes, sir,” Firecracker Burst replied, her tone sullen but otherwise respectful. “Just say when.”

The human nodded absentmindedly, and then triggered his radio. “Hammer group, prepare to drop cover and engage on my mark. Target 'mechs with anti-infantry weapons if you can,” Schneider added, and then began his countdown. “Three, two, one, mark!”

His passenger heard the order as clearly as did the others in the task group, and the orange-ish glow around Firecracker's horn faded briefly, only to reestablished itself an instant later. Schneider didn't bother to watch, however, as he stared out of the cockpit and watched as the carefully crafted illusion spell dissipated and was replaced by a bubble shield that surrounded his 'mech. Great, I trade the fuzzy half-vision of the blind for the effect of looking at the world through purple sunglasses, Schneider mused, as he used Hands-On-Throttle-And-Stick controls to set his sensors to full active. The HUD, already crowded with many passive contacts, now filled with numerous red squares that denoted enemy BattleMechs.

Schneider paid it little heed, however, as he turned his 'mech and aimed its lasers at the backside of an enemy Phoenix Hawk. Worry later, work now, the MechWarrior thought, even as he pulled the weapons triggers for his large lasers. A wave of heat filled the Firestarter's cockpit while both beams speared into the back of the enemy 45-tonner and tore away what little armor it mounted over its right and center rear torsos before they began to work on the enemy machine's insides, slagging support structures and, in the right torso, blasting apart one of the 'mech's jump jets. Schneider attempted to capitalize on this with his medium laser, but the smaller weapon shot low and instead only slagged armor on the foe's left leg.

Not enough to put it down, the intelligence officer realized, even as the waste heat leaking into his cockpit started to become intolerable. Schneider hesitated for a moment as he considered using his rocket launchers, but soon gave a mental shrug. When am I going to have a backside shot again? he asked, as he remorselessly aimed the dumbfire rocket pods, and then pulled their triggers.

Two clouds of unguided missiles streaked out from the Firestarter's torso and slammed into the back of the Phoenix Hawk. A cluster of the rockets smashed into one of the arms, while another blasted the right leg; a third went wide. A smaller, fourth cluster, however, raced in with deadly finality and tore into the center torso, where their warheads set off the enemy's machine gun ammunition, and the Phoenix Hawk died a quick death as its torso was rapidly blasted apart from the inside-out.

Now bereft of an immediate target, Schneider glanced to his HUD and watched as Mendoza and Griffin combined their respective 'mech's lasers and missiles to rip apart a Javelin, while Shepard's Grand Dragon unloaded its ER PPC, LRMs, and medium lasers on the side of another Phoenix Hawk, though none of the fire was able to get through the ablative armor. Still, the guy has to be hurting, Schneider mused, even as he promptly pushed his throttled forward to the stops and turned the Firestarter for a nearby growth of heavy forest. “Next nav point, Hammer group!” he shouted, after he triggered his radio. “Move before they bracket us!”

“Incoming!” Griffin's voice sounded on the radio, and Schneider glanced over his HUD to see several clusters of LRMs arcing through the sky.

Looks like they're faster on the ball than we hoped, Johannes thought, as he glanced to the unicorn panting in the sauna-like cockpit. “Hold on, and don't try to kill yourself,” he said.

“Like Tartarus I will!” Firecracker replied, and then screwed her eyes shut to concentrate on the shield she was generating. “I just hope Sparkle's trick works,” she muttered just before LRMs hit. Fortunately, only eight of the fifteen-missile salvo fired at Schneider's Firestarter actually maintained their lock, and though Firecracker grunted and grimaced in pain, she managed to hold the shield up through the explosions. “Hah! Did it!” she crowed, as she opened her eyes to smirk at the human pilot.

“That's great, kid, but don't get cocky,” Schneider replied, as he juked the 'mech to the left to avoid being speared by a particle cannon.

“Don't worry, I got this,” Firecracker boasted. Then she let out an involuntary scream of pain as several lasers and particle cannons impacted the shield and drained her energy reserves.

Schneider couldn't even spare her a thought, however, as the shield-denuded energy weapons ripped into the Firestarter's arm, leg, and rear torso armor from several different angles. Several hundred kilograms of armor were blasted or melted away, and the resulting shift in mass nearly caused the gyro keeping the 'mech upright to destabilize. Schneider responded as a true veteran MechWarrior, though, and he twisted in his seat and forced his own senses of balance and kinesthetics to shift. The neurohelmet read this in his brainwaves and then fed the correction into the Diagnostic Interpretation computer, which readily broke down the new data into commands to the 'mech's various motive and control systems. The end result that came out of this dance of mind, flesh, metal and electrons was that the Firestarter remained upright, on its feet and moving forward despite having endured a fearful kinetic shock.

All of this occurred in less than five seconds, and during that time Schneider kept his 'mech moving forward at high speed. “You okay, Burst?” he asked, unable to spare a look to the pony as he concentrated solely on his 'mech's displays and handling. Shield's down, hope she's alright, hope we don't die, his mind barely managed to piece together.

“Mmm'kay,” Firecracker Burst replied, hazily. “Wow, even with the cut-out, that took everything out of me.”

A wave of nearby explosions punctuated the mare's words, and Schneider could only scowl as he watched the shield around Shepard's 'mech dissipate. I guess it was too much to hope that single, regular ponies could hold up to modern firepower, even with the new spells, he thought, for the moment completely devoid of the usual incredulity he displayed towards magical jargon. Still, he added, as he ploughed the Firestarter through the outermost trees of his selected refuge, we're back in cover now; time for the next phase to start.

* * * *

Gregory Kilroy felt sweat pour off of his body as his cockpit reached temperatures more suited for an oven than the command center of a modern war machine. Worth it, though, he thought, as he watched the effect of his two PPCs slam into one of the strange, purple energy fields surrounding the Grand Dragon that had blasted almost all the armor off of one of the battalion's Phoenix Hawks. Even now the 60-tonne machine returned fire by twisting its torso, moving its arm back, and firing its PPC straight into the arm of the Desperadoes' single Vulcan, stripping away all armor and withering the internal structure down to a skeletal spur that barely kept the machine gun mounted to the frame.

What the Hell are they using? Kilroy asked himself, as he saw that his particle beams had only a minor effect on the heavy 'mech's armor. They're like the shields the white one used, but those blocked the shots completely. These almost seem to be draining power or some—

He blinked as a memory came to mind. They're copying the Detonator Grid from the Colosseum! Kilroy thought, and then shook his head in silent admiration. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, even as he pressed the throttle of his Marauder to its cruising speed. A few flicked controls soon placed him back on the battalion's radio net. “All units, be advised that the enemy seems to have copied some Star League Lostech,” he announced. “Those of you who watch the Solaris VII feeds ought to recognize it. Make sure to mass fire on them to take them down.”

Scarcely had he finished speaking when large explosions started walking their way across the Desperadoes' formation.

* * * *

Melissa lightly clenched her jaw as she pressed her Stuka ever lower to avoid being detected by the enemy ground forces while she began her approach. Not to mention it keeps those Lucifers from getting a solid lock on us, she thought, as trees and low-lying hills passed beneath, and sometimes to the side, in a blur.

“This is utterly insane,” Trade Wind shakenly observed from the back, his body tensed in fear as he saw the landscape move by at a rate only the fastest of pegasi could even think of attempting.

“Yup,” Melissa replied, evenly, as she saw the battlefield come up. “Don't blink,” she added, and then thumbed her bomb controls for the second half of her load; unguided bombs, colloquially known as “dumb” or “iron” bombs. The HUD projected in front of her painted the limited data her battle computer could piece together about the enemy formation, and Melissa only had a brief moment to adjust her approach so that she could try to hit as many 'mechs as possible.

Then she was upon them, and her thumb jammed hard on the bomb release. Unlike with the laser-guided weapons, though, she only needed to press it once, as the fighter's battle computer was programmed for such occasions and knew to release the remaining ten bombs in sequence. The Stuka shuddered as it passed over the Desperadoes and rapidly dropped the last of its external ordnance. Melissa felt the fighter actually rise in the air as it no longer carried such a heavy load, and she grinned as the controls lost their sluggish behavior.

She glanced to her HUD's aft view at that, and her practiced, trained eyes took in the scene: a trail of black clouds caused by her bombs rose from the enemy formation, and although many of the weapons only hit dirt, a few had blasted large craters in BattleMech armor. Then Rodriguez's Stuka soared over the Desperadoes an instant later, coming in at a slightly different angle than Melissa in order to maximize the number of foes they could hit. His bombs dropped in a perfect string to blast several more 'mechs, and one even landed amidst the formation of ponies who had thrown in their lot with O'Connell.

Melissa winced at the loss of pony life, but quickly returned her mind and attention to her piloting. They picked their side, now they can pay for it, she remorselessly thought, as she rolled her fighter to the right and then began a long, high-speed turn. “Still with me, Windy?” she asked, with a raised voice so she could be heard above the noise of the Stuka's screaming engine and the passage of wind over the hull.

“Well, I'm not curled into a ball and crying,” Trade Wind replied. “Yet,” he added, with a dry chuckle.

Melissa couldn't help but give a brief chuckle of her own at that. “Good, because it's going to get warm in here,” she added, as she switched her HUD from bombing to ground-attack.

* * * *

“Bloody Hell!” O'Connell groused, as the ringing in his ears finally started to fade away. A glance to his 'mech's armor diagram showed that a rather large chunk had been taken out of the left shoulder, and he cursed again. If we stay out in the open, we'll be pecked to death by airstrikes, he thought, even as he switched his radio on. “This is the major to all commands, resume the advance,” he ordered. “Accelerate to forty-five km/h and make for the ridgeline.”

A short chorus of acknowledgments from the various lance commanders came in, though this was followed up by a quick notification light on his communication console. O'Connell grunted as he switched over to the private frequency he shared with Kilroy, even while he pushed the Battlemaster's throttle forward again. “What?” he snapped.

“Boss, the infantry won't be able to keep up,” Kilroy said, immediately. “There's too much thought gone into this damn attack for us to go without—” he said, but was interrupted as a rain of laser fire poured from the heavens. Four solid beams, and two intermittently flashing ones strafed over the middle of the Desperadoes' formation, slashing into more 'mech armor. This occurred in less than a second before the beams ceased and the screeching roar of an aerospace fighter thundered overhead. Then the incident repeated itself as the second Dark Horse fighter made its run, and more 'mechs took damage from the airborne menace.

O'Connell cursed yet again. “Hold that thought, Greg,” the mercenary leader said, and then switched channels. “Valkyrie Three, why the Hell aren't you keeping those fighters off of my back?” he yelled, enraged.

“Working on it,” Leblanc's voice replied in O'Connell's ears. The Lucifer pilot sounded strained as she spoke. “Bastards keep going NOE and breaking lock.”

“Then drop your ass down and get in behind them!” O'Connell heatedly replied. “What the Hell do I pay you for if you can't even be a proper distraction?”

“Apparently, you pay me to auger my fighter into the ground, because that's what's gonna happen if I try engaging those nutjobs,” Leblanc countered.

“Well then, if that's the case,” O'Connell began, his tone almost pleasant. Then it turned hard and venomous as his anger bled through again. “Then when you hit the ground, make sure to plow a trench that'll make the Mariner Valley look like a papercut!” he thundered, while another strafing run passed over the battalion. “Just get those fighters off my ass!”

A sigh was the immediate reply. “Understood, major. Moving to engage.”

“Good,” O'Connell replied, and then switched back to the battalion channel. “All units, press forward. McKenna's main force has to be around here, somewhere. Find them and let's end their little game.”

* * * *

A warning tone sounded in Melissa' ear, and she grunted. “Well, crap,” she muttered, as she pulled her fighter into a turn in order to pass between a pair of hills.

“What is it?” Trade Wind asked, from his seat.

“Those Lucifer pilots finally decided to pull their thumbs out of their asses and move in,” Melissa replied, as her eyes danced over the HUD. Her thumb flicked over a radio control, and she spoke again. “Eddie, switch to air-to-air and form up on me,” she ordered.

“Understood, Hothead,” Rodriguez replied, using Melissa's academy nickname. “Coming in on your right.”

“Roger,” Melissa replied, and then switched channels while she turned her fighter to skim along a ridge line. “This is Black Eagle One, calling Dark Horse Actual.”

“Actual here, report,” the voice of her father sounded in her ears.

“Enemy fighter cover moving to engage us,” Melissa spoke, in clipped tones as she watched Rodriguez nudge his Stuka in a loose trailing position, and further back the Lucifers as they dove ever lower and closer, trading altitude for speed. “I don't know when we'll be able to provide air support again.”

“Understood, Black Eagle,” James McKenna said, his voice terse. “Engage at your discretion.”

“Roger, Actual,” Melissa said, and then switched back to her wingmate's channel. “Get ready, Eddie, here they come.”

* * * *

Samantha Leblanc grimaced as she watched the top of a particularly tall tree come dangerously close to her fighter. Armored wings or not, you hit even a tree at these speeds and it will mess you up, she thought, as she returned her focus to the two Stukas she and her wingmate were now chasing. “Stay close and concentrate on the trailer, John,” she said.

“Copy that,” the other pilot replied, his voice gruff. “Start with LRMs or close to laser range?”

“LRMs,” Leblanc immediately replied. “We gotta get them off the ground-pounders' backs, so fire as soon as we're in range.”

John acknowledged the order, and both he and Leblanc fell silent as the last seconds ticked away, their bare speed advantage evaporating as they reached the same altitude as the Dark Horse fighters. By now the two groups of fighters had moved several kilometers north of the ground battle, and Leblanc figured that the enemy would try to turn back soon. Those fighters are their only way of dealing real damage to—

Her thoughts were cut off as the two Stukas abruptly slowed and then split apart, each of them taking a wide turn to either side. “Dammit,” Leblanc grunted, even as she turned her Lucifer to follow the fighter she'd designated as the main target. The other one will have open season on our asses, she thought, and then prayed that the leader wasn't the better marksman.

* * * *

Melissa's face was a torn mix between a grimace and a feral grin, as she saw the two enemy aerospace fighters turn to move in on Rodriguez. “Looks like you've got some fans there, Eddie,” she teased, although her tone was devoid of mirth.

“I noticed,” Rodriguez replied, even as Long-Range Missiles soared out and blasted into his Stuka's hide. “They're out of my tail guns' range, I could use some help,” he added.

“Already on it,” Melissa replied. Her HUD was already tracking on the closest Lucifer. The hum of a solid lock rang in her ears a moment later, and she wasted no time as she unloaded her entire forward-facing armament upon the medium fighter. The two large lasers in the Stuka's left wing missed low, but the two in the right wing and the LRMs worked to blast and slag armor from the smaller craft. The nose-mounted pulse lasers fired next, their beams flashing on and off like strobes even as their local targeting systems tweaked the lenses to spread the shots over a large area. The 'spray-and-pray' approach worked, and both lasers managed to land multiple solid hits on the Lucifer's tail.

This seemed to unnerve the enemy, and he broke off his pursuit of Rodriguez in order to try to escape Melissa's lock. His leader seemed to be unaware of the move, or at least hadn't ordered it as he continued to pour LRMs into Rodriguez's tail. This made the leader Melissa's next target, and she quickly shifted her attention over and then promptly fired off another volley. This time her LRMs failed their lock and missed low to blast a patch of the ground only a few dozen meters below. Three of her large lasers missed as well, though the pulse lasers and the one remaining large laser seared off large chunks of armor on the Lucifer's wings.

A warning tone suddenly sounded in Melissa's ears, and she barely had time to check her threat receiver before two clouds of LRMs blasted into her Stuka's left wing. The fighter shuddered around her, and it took a few harrowing moments to ensure that they wouldn't crash into the ground before Melissa pulled back and up, swinging her fighter through a high-G Immelmann turn. Her vision threatened to black out for a moment, but soon enough the maneuver was finished and the tone in her ears switched to a beeping noise. Melissa realized she had a moment before she was blasted again and thus checked one of her cockpit's secondary displays. “Ah, screw me with a wrench,” she said, after the battle computer identified the two new threats in the air.

“What? What is it?” Trade Wind asked, his tone a bit strained from the recent maneuver.

“O'Connell's boys have sharp teeth after all,” Melissa replied, her voice grim. She then took a moment to engage her radio. “Eddie, two Rievers inbound, warbook says F-700 model,”

“Shit,” Rodriguez replied. “And this pilot's still on my ass, though that smacking you gave him seems to have rattled his cage; he's been missing with the LRMs and I've got a good enough lead to lose him off my tail.”

“Alright then, let's try to break contact and head west to lead them away from the ground fight,” Melissa ordered.

* * * *

Zachary Carver grimaced as he watched his LRMs slam into the Dark Horse fighter. Why the Hell do things have to work out this way? he asked himself, while he turned his Riever to follow his opponents. The two Stukas hugged the nape of the land almost as if they were ground-effect vehicles and as a result were nearly impossible to target. Nevertheless Carver and his wingmate had managed to achieve a lock-on when the lead fighter had turned to aid his comrade, and thus had launched their first salvo in the war. Now if only that were the only one, the pilot mused, as he watched the Dark Horse fighters twist through the air while the two Desperado Lucifers broke north and moved to regroup.

“Looks like Leblanc and Mattherson got cold feet,” Zach's wingmate, Jurgen Poole, observed.

“Only for the moment,” Carver replied. “Let's give them time to get their nerve back. Follow me and let's keep the Stukas off balance.” And give them a chance to regroup as well. He knew it was a dangerous game to play, trying to fight just enough to satisfy one side without seriously hurting the other, but his conscience gave him little recourse. I hope you're right about your people's forgiveness, Seabreeze, because we're both going to need it after the day is through.

* * * *

I don't like this, Gregory Kilroy though, as he carefully guided his Marauder forward. His lance was leading the column now, as the screening forces of the lightweight third company had shifted to chase the Dark Horse 'mechs that had ambushed and killed two of their number into the woods on the left. The remainder of the Desperadoes were funneling in behind Kilroy's second company, or rather the majority of it; his fast “pursuit” lance was still at the rear of the column to screen against flanking attacks.

We've got a lot of force here, Kilroy reminded himself, as he swiveled his eyes down to look over the tactical display on his command console. But I don't like how fast everything has gone, like it's all planned. I can't help but think we're being herded... but towards what? McKenna has nine 'mechs, and we have over thirty still. He has to know this, yet he's still baiting us forward. Why? The unknown worried him, and Kilroy once again silently cursed O'Connell's decision to leave the small collaborator infantry unit behind. Only fifty or so, and they did take a hit, but any infantry would be better than none at all.

A shadow washed over his canopy and startled Kilroy out of his musing. His hands twitched the weapon joysticks upward, but then relaxed as he recognized the shape of a griffon. At least we have them, but I'm not sure they can be as good on the ground given they got their asses handed to them in the capital.

“Tanaka,” O'Connell's voice suddenly sounded, and a glance told Kilroy it was over the battalion's command frequency. “Have you found those ambushers yet?”

“Not yet, major,” Sara Tanaka, third company's commander, replied. “They've got a Guardian suite on their side and it's playing Hell with our sensors in these woods.”

“You should pull out back to the edge and watch our flank,” Kilroy chimed in. “If they don't want to be found, then they probably won't be so long as they have that ECM working. It'll be better to wait for them to come to us.”

“They killed one of my boys,” Tanaka hotly countered. “I want their heads.”

“And you'll have them,” O'Connell promised. “But Greg's right, you need to cover our asses while we approach the ridge.”

“Yes, sir,” Tanaka replied, heatedly. Despite her clear distaste, the icons of her company's 'mechs began to shift on the tactical map, and Kilroy allowed himself a mental sigh.

His relief didn't last long before the woods on his right erupted with light.

* * * *

The atmosphere was tense to say the least, as the sounds of explosions, firing guns, and discharging lasers echoed through the woods. The scream of fighters overhead made several veterans of Second Canterlot cringe, but otherwise the ponies of the Royal Army held their ground and waited. To say general Stonewall was proud would have been an understatement, but the red pony didn't let any emotion show on his face as he casually walked up and down the line of soldiers waiting for their cue. Most were unicorns, selected as their magic seemed to be Equestria's greatest weapon so far, but a number of earth ponies were mixed in as well, mostly to use and support the five recoilless rifles the detachment had received. And one ballista that, somehow, a team of dedicated and possibly demented engineers had managed to drag with them. The group of ponies from Equestria's deep south insisted that they had a plan to make the ancient siege weapon effective, and in the interest of not wasting time arguing about it Stonewall had relented.

Best worry 'bout that later, the general told himself, as he finished his impromptu tour and then nodded to himself. “Alright,” he said, loud enough to be heard up and down the line. “It's almost time fer us to shine,” Stonewall continued, as he turned around and started to walk back to the center of his formation. “Now you boys are supposed to be the best ponies in the guard, even in all o' Equestria. Frankly, I think that's bullcrap,” he said, and then paused to let the thought sink in. He only gave it a moment, though, before he turned his head to regard the ponies closest to him and smiled. “You're the best damn ponies in the whole bloody world!”

“Hoo-ah!” the soldier before him returned. None smiled, but Stonewall could feel the strength of their conviction through the brief yet emphatic statement.

“That's why I know we're going to win this war!” Stonewall continued. “I ain't ever seen a foe that Equestria can't handle. Griffons, minotaurs, diamond dogs, hydras, dragons, or even the occasional madgod; ain't none of them had the stones so far to end our harmony, and I ain't gonna see it happen on my watch, not when we got you fellas 'round here to stick it to 'em.

“An' that's exactly what we're gonna do!” Stonewall added, with a stomp of his right foreleg. “I don't care if'n the invaders got metal doohickeys forged in Tartarus itself, they ain't gettin' through today, nor tomorrow, nor any ol' day! Not so long as we're here!”

He paused then, as a cheer went up along the line of soldiers. Wish I coulda gave this speech to the guys with McKenna's force, Stonewall thought, as the cheers died down. But they got the big doohickeys to support 'em. “Y'all are the best damn ponies I ever served with. Don't let me down by lettin' them aliens carry us today. When I give the order, I want y'all to unleash the wrath of the heavens on 'em! Can ya do that?”

“Hoo-ah!” came the shouted reply, and Stonewall could only grin and nod back.

“Good,” the general said. “Stand by and be ready for when I give the signal,” he ordered, and then turned and walked back towards his very temporary command post. If you could call it that, Stonewall mused, as the area he strode towards was little more than a small depression in the terrain behind a convenient log. It was rather important, however, as it gave a modicum of cover from the enemy's weapons and, more importantly, concealed Stonewall and his two aides from being spotted at range.

One of the aides looked up from a radio set loaned from the Dark Horse and spoke. “Sir, commander McKenna wished to speak to you.”

“By all means lemme talk to him,” Stonewall replied, as he moved over to the set and then picked up the handset when it was offered to him. He waited for a moment for his aide to work a few controls, and then spoke once he got a nod. “Stonewall here,” he said, into the human-made device.

“Almost time, general,” McKenna's voice sounded back. “Are your troops ready?”

“Ready and waitin' for their chance to kick back,” Stonewall heatedly replied.

“Good, because O'Connell's doing what I thought he would,” McKenna replied. “Remember, stick to the plan and run once they start zeroing in.”

“Don't worry, son, I ain't no idiot,” Stonewall replied, tiredly. “I know what to do.”

“Understood, general,” McKenna replied. “Give 'em Hell.”

“We'll give 'em more than that,” Stonewall promised. “You just make sure you don't leave our plots hanging in the wind.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” McKenna said, with a chuckle. “Take care general. You may fire when ready,” he added, last few words spoken in an odd tone.

Sounded like a Trottingham accent; humans are weird, Stonewall mused, as he passed the handset back to his aide and then turned to the other. “Flash, get up to the assault wing and coordinate; make sure they're ready to cover our redeployment.”

The addressed pegasus gave the general a salute. “Yes sir,” Sentry replied, and then turned to run through the forest towards a nearby clearing.

“Alum Salt,” Stonewall said next, as he turned his head to address his second aide-de-camp. “Get that thing packed up and start moving to the next rendezvous point; when we pull stakes it's gonna be quick.”

“Yes sir,” Salt replied, and then turned to carry out the orders.

Stonewall watched him for a moment, and then shook his head as he turned around and trotted back to the firing line. He picked up the instructions for that doodad pretty quickly, the general mused. Young'uns.

He put such thoughts out of his mind, then, as he could see through the trees and the blind spells ahead that the enemy war machines were coming into range. Stonewall picked up the pace and quickly moved to the center of the line, where his best troops waited. “Stand ready!” he called out, and his voice cut through the background noise like a knife. “Take aim!” he added, and then waited a few moments more as the unicorns not maintaining the blind powered up for the attack. Finally, the entire view of the fields beyond the woods' edge was filled with 'mechs, and Stonewall took in a deep breath. “FIRE!”

A wave of kinetic blasts rippled through the air immediately after Stonewall spoke, and even an earth pony like him could sense the static-like feeling of all the magic being unleashed. The multicolored orbs of concentrated magic soared through the air almost faster than the eye could track, and the effect they had upon hitting the Desperadoes' 'mechs was notable, as armor was scored wherever one such burst impacted. Scarcely had the magic had time to disperse when the echoing blasts of the hoof-made recoilless rifles washed over the scene, and several of the shells fired slammed into the enemy war machines with thrice the destructive force of any one unicorn's blast.

Barely had this salvo ended when a loud yell was heard. “YEEEE-HAAAWW!” sounded somewhere behind Stonewall, and he heard the familiar noise of a ballista being released. A shape flew over the front line before the general could turn around, and he barely had a moment to recognize it as a barrel with a lit lantern tied to it before the Jerry-rigged device reached the end of its arc and slammed into the side of one of the BattleMechs, whereupon the fluid contained in the barrel burst out, and then caught fire as the lantern shattered and its flame was exposed.

A round of cheers went up from behind Stonewall, and he turned his head just long enough to see the engineers working on the ballista celebrating their ingenuity. Why are all o' the ponies who build contraptions completely crazy? the general mused. He soon pushed such thoughts from his head as he returned his attention back to the battle in front of him, and he watched as the squads at his command immediately switched from full offensive to mixed shields—directional, of course— and attack spells.

The shields appeared just in time, as the first of the BattleMechs turned and rained laser fire at the pony lines. Both of the medium-caliber beams were easily dissipated, and their force was doubly returned as another wave of kinetic bursts raced out to hammer the Desperadoes. The recoilless rifles spoke again, albeit after a considerably longer pause; the new weapons were unfamiliar, despite some ponies trained with the Dark Horse spread amongst the weapon crews, and so their firing rates were much lower than a unicorn could maintain with a kinetic spell. Nevertheless, the soldiers were determined, and so another salvo of shells was soon sent downrange to impact upon the enemy.

Stonewall felt his hopes rise as he saw the BattleMechs' armored hides—what once appeared invincible—became more and more pockmarked with holes and craters. Still lotsa layers to go through, though, he reminded himself, as he recalled the very brief lesson the humans had told him about their ablative armors. But at least we're hurting them, and that one those engineers—heavens bless 'em—set on fire ain't gonna be happy.

Any further thoughts froze in his mind, though, as more of the enemy 'mechs turned their torsos and began to return fire. More lasers poured into the area, and they were soon joined by the blue-white beams of PPCs and streams of autocannon and machine gun fire. The additional and heavier weapons took their toll, and while many missed, enough hit to collapse shields and kill ponies. Stonewall himself was nearly deafened as one particle stream blasted into and through a weakening shield segment only a few dozen meters away. He glanced over after the blast and felt his heart wrench as he saw that an entire squad of guardsponies had been vaporized or wounded in the blast.

Time to go, the general thought, even as he took in a breath. “Fall back!” he bellowed, even as he began to back away himself. “Displace and fall back! Move to staging point Baker! Fall back to Baker!”

The ponies nearest to him began to move, even as they repeated the orders down the line. Several times they had to repeat themselves as the terrible noise of modern weaponry filled the air with thunder, but soon the soldiers collected the wounded and began to move back. Pride filled Stonewall's heart as he watched the Equestrian forces begin their withdrawal in good order despite the terrible pounding that they were starting to receive, although it was tempered with a great deal of sadness as he saw the casualties and fatalities mount. Damn it all, was all he could spare time to think, before he turned and ran back towards where he'd left Alum Salt. The silver gray unicorn had just climbed out of the little depression in the ground with the radio on his back when Stonewall came upon him. “Alum, we're falling back,” the general said without preamble. “Signal the assault wing and then help me keep these boys in line.”

“Yes sir!” Alum replied, and then concentrated for a moment. Magic built up around his horn, and then shot skyward in a pulse.

* * * *

“Holy heavens,” Spitfire murmured, as she gazed down upon the battlefield. This is insane, she mused, even as she saw the glittering beams, glowing traces, and missile trails of human weapons, while their horrendous noises and the screech of fighters fill the air.

“Yeah,” her second-in-command, Soarin, quietly chimed in from the side. “I can see why they called us all in for this,” he observed.

Spitfire could only grunt once in agreement. We heard it was bad out here, she thought, as recent memories of anxious days waiting in Cloudsdale for deployment orders came to her. But this... She shook her head in disbelief and sadness as the terrible weapons of the invaders fired deep into the woods where she knew the ground-based forces of Equestria were stationed. More memories came back, this time of the Wonderbolts' brief stop in Canterlot to meet up with the rest of the army, where the paramilitary group got first-hoof experience in viewing the aftereffects of 31st century weaponry.

How could anypony survive this? Spitfire wondered, as she glanced up to watch the small shapes of distant fightercraft arc and race through the sky. Then her eyes fell down to the ground again as another series of attacks lanced out from the woods to hit the invaders, albeit a smaller salvo this time. How could anypony stay sane after this?

The last thought bid Spitfire to glance over to the unofficial reason the Wonderbolts had been called out: off to the left stood a pony the Wonderbolt captain had the pleasure of having first met over a year ago when she had saved the golden pegasus' life, as well as the lives of part of her team and a unicorn. The same pony who had impressed her at the Grand Galloping Gala and whose application for entering the Wonderbolt Academy had barely crossed Spitfire's desk before the invasion began. Even as she looked, however, Spitfire could tell that the pony standing there was not the same one from before. Something changed her, and I don't mean the new duds.

Almost as if she could tell someone was watching her, Rainbow Dash turned her head to the side and looked to her old heroine. At first Spitfire saw a haunted look in the other pegasus' eyes, but Dash soon blinked it away and replaced the expression with one of determination. Yet at the same time, she produced a small, but sincere smile. “Pretty crazy, isn't it?” she asked, quietly.

“You could say that again,” Spitfire agreed, even as she cast an eye over the other mare. Physically, Dash was much the same as before, save for some scars Spitfire had seen on Rainbow's back when they had met up the previous day. Now, though, the colorful pegasus was decked out in a set of armor the likes of which Spitfire had never seen before. Instead of the platemail of the ground forces, or the chainmail all the other pegasi present wore, Rainbow wore a thick vest made of some kind of material that seemed like a bizarre cross between metal and plastic, and a helmet made of much the same material that had a clear visor over her eyes rather than the faceplate of Equestrian armors. Underneath that and over one eye was an additional, odd eyepiece that seemed to have a slight glow to it, and over Dash's back and side was some sort of harness and an odd protrusion that Spitfire had been assured was a deadly weapon.

Supposedly all of that stuff is from the aliens, Spitfire remembered. The general said something about Dash's unicorn friend helping the humans fit it to her. The Wonderbolt captain shook her head a bit at that, and she wondered just how much effort was going into keeping Rainbow Dash safe. “So,” Spitfire began, after a couple of moments. “I heard you saw some of this in Canterlot?”

The smile disappeared off of Dash's muzzle at that, but her expression remained determined as she nodded. “Yeah, you could say that,” she replied, and then turned her head to look out over the battle below. “It was... pretty bad. And something tells me today's gonna be a lot worse. A lot of ponies are going to die.”

Spitfire blinked at the frank assessment, but before she could even think about it, a brilliant magic flare shot up from the woods below. The silvery blob of energy soared high, and then burst open in a simple display, yet it was enough to set the nerves of every pegasus hidden in the cloud bank on edge.

“There's the signal!” captain Starbuck proclaimed, from his position off to the left. Everypony in range of his voice turned their heads to regard the armored pegasus as he spread his wings. “Assault wing, form up! Wonderbolts, assume escort position! Move!”

The two groups of pegasi reacted to the orders as appropriate, with the guards of the assault wing quickly fanning their wings to start building up a head of steam to lift their heavy burdens. The two-dozen Wonderbolts, meanwhile, mainly glanced to each other, and then towards Spitfire as they fidgeted in their chainmail armor and readied their swords. For her part, the captain simply looked over to Rainbow Dash and raised an eyebrow. “You ready?”

The addressed mare turned her head to Spitfire, a hard look in her eyes. “Honestly, I don't think any of us are ready,” she said, morosely. Then a smirk spread on her face, and some of her usual cockiness melted back into her voice and expression. “But I think I can handle it. Question is, can you?”

Spitfire could only smirk back. “Let's find out,” she said, and then took to the air. Dash and the Wonderbolts followed her a split second later, and they quickly flew out join the slower moving assault wing. Once there the Wonderbolts split into four groups and each took a position forward, behind, and on either side of the heavily-laden guardsponies, with Dash and Spitfire both taking slots in the vanguard.

It looks worse the closer we get, Spitfire mused, as the combined air group moved closer towards the fight. She watched as missiles screamed through the air, leaving behind contrails of smoke, while laser beam trails flashed in the darkened woods as the enemy rained fire towards the positions of the ground-bound guardsponies. I just hope we can actually do something to help.

“Griffons looks like they're distracted by the ground-pounders,” Soarin chimed in, from his wingpony position.

Spitfire nearly startled at that, as she had all but forgotten the stallion's presence as she had focused so much on the changes in Dash and the battle below. Keep it together, 'Fire, she told herself, and then cast a keen eye towards where her second was pointing with a hoof. “The probably think we're all concentrated for a big, decisive battle,” she observed. Like our old doctrine says we're supposed to do, she mused.

“They're gonna be disappointed, then,” Soarin observed, with a grin.

“Just stay frosty,” Spitfire reminded him. “You saw what happened to Canterlot; let's not get the same treatment, okay?”

The grin disappeared off of his face, but a glint remained in Soarin's eyes as he nodded back. “Got it, cap,” he replied.

“Captain Spitfire!”

The voice called from behind, and the amber mare glanced back to see that Starbuck was waving at her. She gave a quick glance to Soarin, who understood the unspoken command to stay in position, and then she pitched her wings up to bring her body up in altitude, which coincidentally cut her speed a bit. She then dove slightly, speeding up and managed to pull even with the stallion leading the air attack. “Starbuck,” she said, conversationally.

“We've picked our targets,” Starbuck spoke quickly, without preamble. “Be ready to follow us down and keep the griffons off our backs; my soldiers won't be maneuverable in the harnesses they're wearing for the new weapons.”

Spitfire glanced back at the others in the assault wing and took in their odd configuration, and then nodded as she looked back to the other captain. “Don't worry, you've got the best fliers in the air on your side.”

* * * *

“Come out and die like the little rats you are,” Jonathan Myers muttered, as he guided the crosshairs of his Valkyrie's medium laser over the area the ponies had attacked from. He saw a bit of movement, and then pulled the trigger on the joystick to send several megajoules of energy downrange. Myers grinned a bit in satisfaction as he watched the figure burst apart when the moisture inside the body was cooked off by the anti-armor energy weapon, and then swept his gaze along the tree line for more targets.

“They look like they're retreating in good order,” one of his lancemates observed via the radio, even as she fired her Griffin's PPC towards the foes.

“Let them,” the lance commander chimed in. “They might be primitive infantry, but I'm not going into woods after them in a fire support 'mech.”

Or any 'mech, for that matter, Myers mused. All sorts of nasty things infantry can do to a 'mech in close quarters. Better to hammer them from range.

“Airborne targets incoming,” a voice sounded, and a glance to the communications panel showed Myers that it was on the battalion frequency. “Looks like a large number of native fliers.”

“More of their dive-bombers,” another voice, whom Myers recognized as O'Connell's, chimed in. “Don't pay them much mind unless you're in a light 'mech; those lead slugs don't do much damage to you.”

Small comfort to those of us who are in light 'mechs, Myers mentally grumbled, even as his lance commander called over the sub-unit's channel and ordered them to move on now that the flank attack had been dealt with. Scarcely had Myers set his Valkyrie into a loping run when he saw, through his holographic HUD, the natives beginning their dives. Odd, he mused, why are there four of them to a slug? They didn't do that before.

It was all the Desperado MechWarrior had time to ponder, as events began to happen very quickly. The first flight of five four-pony teams were already in the midst of their dives, and Myers' trained eye watched one pony in each yank something that caused their harness to fall apart, releasing their payload and allowing the pegasi the chance to maneuver freely. This was fortunate for them as the first of the griffon squads were already charging into the pony attackers, swords and spears held out to pierce and stab the airborne equines. The native fliers corkscrewed through the air and blades clashed, even as the first of the dropped projectiles hit its target; an unfortunate Hunchback medium 'mech. What happened next, though, was utterly unexpected as the instant the slug hit, it exploded with a furious force that shattered the armor over the right side of the 'mech's torso.

Those aren't slugs, Myers realized, even as the other four projectiles from the wave slammed to the ground, two more impacting Desperado BattleMechs and reaving their armor. They gave them bombs, he thought, even as he heard panicked shouts come over the radio. Those drack-lickers actually gave the horses freaking bombs!

* * * *

“—over here and stop them!” the voice of Kilroy sounded, coming from the speaker of the small, portable radio that the griffon forces had been given to keep in communication.

Garadan winced as his pride took a hit. Both from being outmaneuvered and from this apeling's whining, he thought. “We will rip them from the sky,” he assured the human, before he attached the radio set to his belt. He then turned to his daughter who, like himself, had been flying overwatch above the forest the Equestrian army had attacked from, while scores of their number dove below the treetops to find and engage the retreating ponies. “Gilda, keep an eye on our forces here; I shall lead the counterattack.”

The young hen nodded to him. “Be careful, dad,” she said. “The ponies aren't complete wimps.”

Garadan favored his daughter with a smirk—griffon faces were surprisingly flexible to make up for their hard beaks—and then nodded. “We shall,” he said, and then pitched his flapping wings to heel about on a reciprocal course. A well-practiced war screech garnered the attention of his subordinates, and a few gestures with his claws relayed his orders to the sharp-eyed predators. A large number of sub-units broke away from the ground conflict at the calls from their officers, and soon a large force of griffons were heading back to join the small cover force they'd left over the Desperado formation.

They weren't doing well, as Garadan could see: the dive-bombing pegasi were largely unmolested until after they had dropped their weapons, thanks to the efforts of a group of armored fliers bearing the gold and blue of the Wonderbolts. It figures they would finally use Celestia's pet anti-griffon unit against us, Garadan thought, even as he beat his wings faster and angled up for altitude. His bodyguards trailed after him, but only just, and soon they closed in on the evolving furball above the battlefield before their leader's guidance bade them to angle towards one of the incoming flights from the second wave of bomb carriers. “Take them!” Garadan yelled to his cohort, even as he shifted into a hover to better keep an eye on the fight. His unit screeched as one and charged, save for two who remained by the elder tom's side to keep him safe.

* * * *

Spitfire had wanted to cheer as soon as she saw the first of the bombs land on target. Gotta hand it to those assault fliers, she mused, they can fly a decent formation tied up like that in those crazy harnesses and still hit what they aim at most of the time.

Any further thoughts along that line were pushed from her head as she saw the first griffon squads start rising up to meet the incoming pegasi. “Alright Wonderbolts,” Spitfire hollered, as she turned her head back to glance over her flight. “Let's show the royal guard that we're not the lazy show ponies they think we are!” she added, and then dove. The others followed her, as well as Rainbow Dash, who trailed off her right wing while Soarin trailed her left.

For her part, Rainbow Dash felt a tiny thrill at finally being able to fly with her idols in the Wonderbolts. It's too bad it's in the middle of a war, she briefly thought, even as her focus narrowed down to the matter at hoof. The Wonderbolts she flew with had already unsheathed and secured their swords to forelegs with straps, and now these weapons were held out and ready to strike as the two groups of airborne beings streaked towards one another.

Unfortunately for the griffons, they were at a disadvantage from the start, with their numbers denuded by the engagement in the forest on the flank and having to fight uphill from an inferior altitude. Thus when the pegasi and griffons met, the latter were largely ripped to shreds as Equestrian swords cut through leather armor, and the chimeric predators were unable to land any hits on the speedy pegasi. Over half the griffons who rose to meet them were slain, and the Wonderbolts suffered no losses in their first true military engagement in hundreds of years. The griffons, enraged at the outcome, turned and tried to give chase, but the pegasi had already used the momentum gained in their dive to rapidly gain altitude, and so left the enemy in the figurative dust.

Rainbow felt her stomach twist a bit, and it wasn't entirely from the G-forces. I really did not want to see this again, she thought, even as she followed Spitfire through the maneuver. Although she hadn't had a clear target and thus didn't fire the SMG affixed to her side, she still felt guilt creep into her mind as she had watched her idol cleave a chunk out of a hapless griffon. The memories of ponies being torn apart in the royal palace steeled her nerves, though, and Dash gulped as she trailed the two lead Wonderbolts through a turn. War sucks, but as long as I'm here, I better have my head in the game.

“You gonna use that fancy thing?” Spitfire called back, and startled Dash out of her thoughts. The cyan mare looked up to see the captain giving her a look. “Or are you just here for the ride?”

“I need a good target, first,” Dash replied. “This thing only has so much ammunition and I'm not going to waste it.” At least, that's what I was warned about, she recalled the brief instruction she had received the day before. And that's what Hermes was telling the guys he was training back in Ponyville, she added, even as startlingly accurate memories of the lessons the humans gave to the guardsponies rolled through her mind. Funny, I didn't even sit in on those; I just flew over them while I was waiting for McCoy to get something or another done.

Distant screeches broke Rainbow Dash out of her reverie, and she returned her attention to the present to see that she had followed Spitfire and Soarin automatically back up to their initial altitude. Below, her keen eyes made out streaks of blue and gold from the second Wonderbolt flight as they dove to engage the griffon reinforcements and protect the assault wing ponies. The enemy on the ground didn't escape her notice, and she quickly took in the fact that the Desperadoes were disorganized and milling about as they tried to maneuver out of the way of the incoming bombs, a string of which exploded amongst them even as she watched. Dash then glanced up, and saw the glowing trails of weapons fire in the distance as the aerospace fighters engaged one another, while the forest the ground-bound ponies had attacked from was lit up by occasional blasts of unicorn magic or random laser fire thrown in from the enemy BattleMechs for good measure.

“C'mon, rookie,” Spitfire added, and once again brought Dash's attention forward. “You can sight-see later,” she added, and then once again dove down. Soarin followed instantly, as did Rainbow a heartbeat later, and they were followed by the other four ponies in the flight. This time, though, the griffons looked ready for them, as a number had pulled into a hover so they could aim bows and crossbows up at the diving pegasi.

No, Dash thought, as she recalled another clear lesson about armor, this one from Steelshod as he had fitted her for the chainmail she had worn in Manehattan. “Chainmail is about deflecting glancing blows, not standing up to a direct hit. A sword or an arrow will punch right through it, so try not to get hit at all.” Her mind raced into overdrive, and time seemed to slow as she glanced over and took in the painted armor the Wonderbolts wore. That won't stand up to arrows... but the composite stuff I'm wearing will. The familiar fire that she had come to recognize as her sense of loyalty rose in her chest, and Rainbow Dash put on a burst of speed that left the other ponies tasting her slipstream. She heard Spitfire call her name, but Dash ignored it as she turned her head to focus the targeting reticule in her eyepiece over one of the closer griffons, while said equipment displayed the distance—measured by targeting laser—and gave her hit probabilities as percentages, the numbers of which rapidly fluctuated as she closed in on her foes. She absorbed this information without even thinking about it, and she waited until she was in optimal range before she called forth a strong memory. Her neural pattern spiked, and the electronics on her back quickly read the command to fire the modified firearm.

A burst of nine millimeter slugs left the barrel of the sub-machinegun at that and ripped through the head and chest of the griffon Rainbow targeted. She barely noted the splatters of blood as she changed targets and fired again, and then repeated the task when the second griffon fell as well. She repeated this task twice more before her speed carried her through and past the archers, and her slipstream battered her foes even as they focused their attentions on her. Arrows and bolts flew at her, and one even manged to hit, but bounced off of the helmet she wore. Gotta remember to thank Rarity for helping McCoy to fit the headgear to me, Rainbow briefly mused, even as she glanced back and watched the distracted griffons get torn apart by the Wonderbolts who were now trailing her. She quickly headed back up to higher altitude and then waited for the others to catch up.

“What the hay was that?” Spitfire demanded, as Rainbow Dash fell into position with the flight. “Wonderbolts don't break formation like that!”

“Well, I'm not a Wonderbolt!” Rainbow countered. She paused for a moment, as an odd, yet surprisingly good feeling rolled through her chest at that, but she pushed the sentiment aside for later. “I'm working for the Dark Horse, and if I hadn't gone ahead those griffons would've used you all for pincushions.”

“And you'd rather they use you instead?” Spitfire countered.

“Ladies!” Soarin interjected, and both mares turned their heads to give him withering glares. He ignored the harsh looks as any seasoned male could, and kept his face neutral. “Let's stay focused on the guys trying to kill us, yeah?”

Spitfire frowned at him, but didn't reply to Soarin directly. Instead she turned her head to Dash. “You might be working with those aliens, but we're still working for the princesses, and it's my job to keep you alive. So don't make me consider tying you up and stuffing you into a closet somewhere.”

Rainbow Dash frowned at her. “What is it with everypony wanting to put me into a closet?” she muttered. “It's like they all really want me to be in a closet.”

“What was that, rookie?” Spitfire asked, with a glance back.

“Nothing,” Rainbow replied, even as she cleared her head.

“Good,” the amber mare added. “Now that I've seen that weapon at work, I don't want it out of commission, so I need your head clear. Got it?”

“Got it,” Dash replied.

“Alright. Let's head around for another pass.”

* * * *

Gregory Kilroy was not a happy man. “Natori! Get your lance back in formation,” he ordered, as he spoke to one of his company's lance commanders.

“I'm trying, boss, but it's hard when we keep getting pummeled,” she replied, even as another wave of bombs slammed into the ground, and several Desperado 'mechs besides. “Aren't those bird-brains supposed to be doing something about it?”

“You let me worry about them,” Kilroy countered. “You just get your own shit straightened out, or I'll let O'Connell know who's to blame,” he added, and then switched channels. “Garadan, we need those fliers disrupted.”

“And that is what we are trying to do,” the tom retorted. “The ponies were not surprised today, they were ready to fight and it shows. They have their best forces here, and it is taxing us just to keep them from having their way in the air.”

“The gold and yellow ones that keep swooping in?” Kilroy asked.

“The same,” Garadan replied. “They are called the 'Wonderbolts', and they are the ponies' very best fliers, trained in anti-griffon tactics.”

Gregory thought about it for a moment, and then smirked as an idea entered his mind. “In that case, fall back and give them some room,” he ordered. “I'll have a surprise for them.”

“Very well, but I hope for your sake it is quick,” Garadan replied.

Kilroy ignored the comment, and instead fiddled with his comm panel even as he piloted his Marauder to push forward. “Major, I need to borrow your fire support lance for a bit.”

“What the Hell for?” O'Connell asked, in a hostile tone. “We're kind of busy trying not to be hit by those bombs. Damn McKenna, for trusting the locals with high explosives!”

Seems to be working out fine for him, Kilroy thought, but had the good presence of mind to not speak it. “I need Shang in his Rifleman to target the fast-movers in the gold and blue.”

“Fine,” O'Connell replied, even as another bomb landed near his position. “I'll give the order myself. As for you, get that left flank in order before those idiots make themselves a target for that lance running around.”

“Understood, major,” Kilroy replied, and then switched the comms back to his company's channel. “Alright, boys, let's shore up the left and give 'em some backbone,” he ordered, even as he steered the Marauder in the indicated direction. A chorus of replies came back to him, but his attention was elsewhere as he watched the battalion's lone Rifleman raise its arms and aim the autocannons at the next incoming group of fast-moving pegasi.

Designed as a specialized fire-support and anti-air BattleMech, the Rifleman's targeting computer was unique, as was the ammunition for its cannons. Even as the third flight of Wonderbolts dove in to strike at the griffons ahead of another wave of bombers, the Garret D2j tracking system quickly adjusted the MechWarrior's aim just as he fired, and streams of autocannon shells raced upwards to detonate amidst the Wonderbolt squad. The air was filled with flak and shockwaves, and the pegasi were killed almost to a pony. Not content with this, the Desperado MechWarrior turned his attention to the incoming bombing wave and subsequently slaughtered a flight by prematurely detonating their payload.

About time something started to go our way, Kilroy mused. Then his stomach knotted up as his HUD suddenly tracked additional new targets, and he glanced up at the ridgeline the battalion had been moving towards. You son of a bitch...

* * * *

Twilight Sparkle watched the battle unfold with mixed feelings as she sat in the Highlander's cockpit. On one hoof, our side seems to be doing well, she mused. But on the other... there's just so much death... She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head as emotion overtook her.

“Yeah, I know that feeling,” James McKenna somberly chimed in, and the unicorn opened her eyes to look over at the human. The MechWarrior had only shifted a bit to look at her in his peripheral vision—what little his old-style neurohelmet allowed him—before he settled back into a normal position. “You just want to upchuck, don't ya?”

“Something like that,” Twilight allowed, and then sighed as she turned her vision back out and through the ferroglass. “It all seems so... tragic and wasteful,” she added, with a distinct tone of disgust at the last word.

“It is,” James allowed. He didn't say anything more for a moment, but soon enough shifted in his seat a bit. “Is that...?” he asked, seemingly of himself as his voice trailed off.

“What?” Twilight asked, with a glance over to the human.

James didn't reply to her, but instead reached out and flicked a control on his comms. “It's time to add in our weight, people,” he said, as he spoke over the company's common channel. “Anvil Group, prepare to drop the blind and lay into them them. Hammer Group, wait until we're engaged and then come out of hiding and hit their flank. Captain Sharp Sword, keep your troops at ready in case they rush us, but feel free to engage at your discretion should you find a target of opportunity.”

Two replies were heard, one from Schneider, and one from the commander of the royal guardspony detachment who were entrenched alongside the Dark Horse's heavier 'mechs. James absentmindedly nodded at that, and then looked over to his passenger. “Are you ready, Twilight?” he asked, solemnly.

Twilight Sparkle took in a deep breath to steel her nerves, and then nodded. “As much as I can be,” she replied, steadily.

“That's all I can ask,” James added, with a faint but encouraging smile. It was brief, though, and his face quickly turned back into the stoney visage of an experienced soldier at war. “Drop the blind and switch to shield on my mark,” he ordered.

The sudden change in tone jarred Twilight a bit, but she soon recognized it. He spoke the same way in Ponyville and Canterlot during the fighting there, she thought, even as she nodded a reply to the commander's order. “Ready, commander,” she said.

James merely nodded back, the movement barely visible in his helmet. His next words were presaged by a hand movement to flick a switch on his communication console. “Earl, you and David take out that Rifleman engaging the air forces,” he ordered. “Dorian, you and me are going to concentrate on that Archer. Everyone else pick your targets and remember to cause as much mayhem as possible. Anvil group, engage!”

Twilight immediately dropped the camouflaging blind spell and replaced it with her specialized shield in less than a second. The actions barely needed any attention from the magic savant, and she thus could pay attention to the HUD as the Highlander's active sensors went online. The holographic display lit up with multiple red targets, but the unicorn could see that McKenna quickly focused through the flood of information and jiggled the crosshairs of his weapons over the fire-support BattleMech he'd picked out as his first target. His movements were a bit jerky as he had to do all of this with only one arm, but soon enough he gained a target lock and then fired.

The first human weapon Twilight heard at close range were the long-range missiles as they launched from the twenty-tube rack in the assault 'mech's left torso. The immense roar of the rocket motors was muted by the thick layers of armor, but still filled the pony's ears with booming, rushing noise. This was nothing, however, to the sound that came after the immense Gauss Rifle in the Highlander's right arm discharged its coils and accelerated a nickel-ferrous slug by several mach numbers. Although the rifle itself was rather quiet as it was electric in nature, the supersonic slug was not as it streaked through the air; the shockwave of its passing was enough to blast apart the small shrubs that had helped hide the BattleMech's lower legs, and the air itself ignited in a line behind the projectile to create an elongated fireball that reached across the no-man's-land between the two 'mech forces.

All of this happened in less than two seconds, and the sheer barrage of sensory data nearly caused Twilight to lose control of her spell. She nevertheless held on, and watched in silent awe as the gauss slug blasted a sizable crater in the torso armor of the hunched-over Archer. This was immediately followed by the LRMs as the semi-ballistic weapons fell upon the enemy in waves to blast entire sheets of armor off. Then the entire process repeated a split second later as Carmine's Atlas chimed in with its own long-ranged weapons; another LRM-20 and Gauss Rifle. The Atlas' slug blasted into the weakened armor on the Archer's right arm to crush the internal mechanisms and laser located there, while the additional LRMs continued the sandblasting of armor and denuded much of the formidable protection on the famous design.

Twilight did not even have a split second to comprehend this as Delacroix's Catapult and Silva's Centurion laid into the Rifleman that had just torn into the diving pegasi. LRMs ripped the infamously thin armor of the Rifleman to pieces, and several warheads blasted apart the large-class laser in the 'mech's right arm. The worst damage by far, though, came from the Centurion's particle projection cannon, whose stream of charged particles tore into the now-naked chest of the enemy 'mech and gutted the shielding around the fusion reactor. A wavefront of superheated air blasted back out through the entry wound a picosecond later, and the 60-tonne war machine lifelessly collapsed to the ground while its pilot was auto-ejected to safety.

The fifth and final 'mech in the oversized lance waited a second longer to aim before its pilot fired. Rebecca McKenna was no slouch when it came to marksmanship, and the dual extended-range PPCs of her Warhammer reached out to touch someone; a Trebuchet, lancemate to the hapless Rifleman. The medium-weight 'mech was built for missile support, and so the scathing streams of supercharged plasma had no problems in ripping apart the armor over its right arm and center torso, though the enemy MechWarrior was lucky as the blast failed to do any permanent damage to the components in the arm exposed this way.

The entire salvo lasted barely five seconds, yet Twilight felt her head swim as the waste heat from the Highlander's heavy weapons filled the cockpit. These things are so powerful, she thought, as she considered that the Dark Horse had done more damage to the Desperadoes in that one salvo than all the non-alacorn Equestrian forces had done up to the point the Heart of Steel had landed. She was even more astounded when the four 'mechs of the Dark Horse's second lance emerged from the woods they had taken shelter in, and then added their not inconsiderable firepower to the mix to engage the heavier 'mechs who had moved to that side of the fight.

“Hah! We caught 'em with their pants down!” Carmine's voice sounded over the radio.

“Clear comms,” James ordered, even as he adjusted his aim. “Dorian, with me on the Archer again, everyone else fire at will!” And with that another blistering wave of deadly force rained down on their foes.

* * * *

“Shit!” Garth O'Connell shouted, to himself as he had not bothered to trigger his radio for the simple word. His reaction was almost automatic, as he watched his battalion's sole Archer succumb to the combined firepower of two assault-class BattleMechs and fall to the ground as a twisted wreck, while a Wolverine a hundred meters ahead of him took a beating from the enemy's Catapult. He quickly yanked his throttle back and set the Battlemaster into reverse, which allowed him to avoid the PPC and LRMs from the Centurion on the ridge, though his lancemate in the Merlin had his 'mech's arm amputated as dual PPC fire from the Dark Horse Warhammer wreaked unholy amounts of damage upon it.

Normal PPCs shouldn't have done that, O'Connell mentally grumbled as he threw his 'mech back into a forward trot. Bastard McKenna, it figures he'd refit his wife's 'mech with Clan-tech. He put the thought aside and engaged his radio. “Anyone with LRMs had better be counter-firing those bastards on the ridge or so help me I will rape you with a cactus!”

His disorganized and demoralized forces took the order to heart, and the 'mechs with the aforementioned missiles quickly loosed hastily-aimed salvoes. Most of them missed, given the range, the speed of the engagement, and the Desperadoes' own lack of experience, but some flights did manage to hit their targets, though the odd shields around each of the enemy 'mechs detonated half of them before they could even reach the armor.

Why the Hell did no one tell us about those things before? O'Connell silently griped, as he made a mental note to make personal visits to each of his informants, preferably with a crowbar. The brief thought evaporated as he juked the Battlemaster to the left and took in the incredulous sight of Kilroy's two heavy lances being beaten back by a force one half its size and weight class composition. “Greg, what the Hell are you doing?”

* * * *

Kilroy silently snarled, both at his commander's sudden question, and also from the dual large lasers that ripped into his Marauder's leg and torso armor. “Trying to keep the idiots from pissing themselves!” he countered, even as he aimed back at the Firestarter and loosed both of his PPCs. The downgraded model he drove lacked the heat sinks to fully compensate for the weapons, and so the cockpit immediately turned into a sauna as waste heat flooded the 'mech, but he judged the effort worth it as one beam managed to get past the shield and burn a significant chunk of armor from his foe's left arm. “They blasted my Archer and my company's chickening out.” It was a rather unfair assessment, he knew, as the MechWarriors under his command were still reeling from the sudden, multi-angle attack and were trying to mentally recover, but Kilroy's frustration at the situation left no room for compassion.

His anger could only increase as he watched the Dark Horse Assassin dance across the battlefield, its pilot using the 'mech's jump jets to make sudden course changes that by rights should have been impossible, even for the agile design. Because of this every shot fired at it missed, but the pilot's own pulse laser spewed enough beams of coherent light out to slag armor off of the Panther to Kilroy's left. The enemy Commando followed up on this, as it dodged out of the forest cover once again to unleash a barrage of lasers and short-range missiles onto the Kurita design, battering it further and causing its green pilot to lose control of the machine's balance, whereupon it fell to the ground. Although not permanently out, a 'mech lying face down on the battlefield was of little use to its allies and even less a threat to its foes, and Gregory winced at the temporary loss.

It was all he had time to consider as the Dark Horse's Grand Dragon opened up on one of the Griffins in his fire-support lance. The ER PPC scored entire sheets of armor composite from the torso, while the dual medium lasers mounted on the front slagged armor from both of the medium 'mech's arms. The only consolation for the Desperado MechWarrior was that the range had decreased too much for the enemy to use his LRMs, but conversely this meant that the Griffin's own weapons—LRMs and an old-style PPC—were also ineffective. The pilot didn't bother with his missiles either, and his PPC missed as it had trouble focusing its stream at such a close-range target.

Fortunately for Kilroy's soldiers—and his blood pressure—the other 'mechs in the two present lances of his company finally started to gain the presence of mind to return fire. The Valkyrie in his fire-support lance speared the Grand Dragon with its medium laser, while the other two Griffins, slightly more distant, fired their PPCs at the heavy 'mech as well, both scoring hits, though only one did any damage as the shield around the Grand Dragon managed to deflect the other. Armor was scored off of its leg and the enemy MechWarrior had to make the machine jig a bit, though managed to keep it upright.

Meanwhile, the Enforcer that filled out Kilroy's command lance joined the fray, and fired its large laser towards the Firestarter. The shield around the 'mech flickered and then faded, and the beam managed to deal heavy damage to the center torso armor. This would have made Kilroy happy, but the Dark Horse MechWarriors seemed to sense their luck turning, and so quickly used their superior speed and maneuverability to fall back into the woods as both sides' weapons recharged and reloaded, though the Assassin pilot managed to get a cheeky LRM barrage off to chip away at the Valkyrie.

This is bad, Kilroy thought, even as he turned his somewhat overheated 'mech to face its heavier front armor towards the ridge. The timing was fortuitous as the enemy Centurion had switched to him and lashed away at the Marauder's armor with its LRMs, though the PPC missed and only burned a line of dirty glass into the grassy dirt. They're not focus-firing, which is what they should be doing... unless their goal is to disrupt our forces. A glance at the tactical display on one of the cockpit's MFDs showed that the battalion had lost its formation, as 'mech lances had run back and forth to respond to different threats, and dispersed from the multiple air attacks. I gotta hand it to McKenna, he knows he can't win a straight fight, so he's trying to break our morale, Greg thought, while he aimed a single arm-mounted PPC and fired back up towards the enemies on the ridge. And he might just do it. He switched his radio on, and then spoke to O'Connell. “Garth, those guys on the ridge need to be distracted if we want to get anywhere.”

“Agreed,” O'Connell affirmed, and a moment of silence met Kilroy's ears until: “Tanaka!” O'Connell's voice sounded, this time on the battalion-wide channel. “We need time to reorganize the main force, take your company and try to get into a close flanking position on the ridge.”

“Are you nuts?” the commander of Third Company asked. “Our lights and mediums against those heavies and assaults?”

“Would you rather stay here and be pecked to death at range?” Kilroy chimed in. “You just need to keep them off us for a few minutes, and then we can press them with our superior weight.” While we still have it, he silently added.

A growling groan was Tanaka's only response, but soon enough the icons representing her company shifted on the map displayed on an MFD in Kilroy's cockpit and started to rush forward and to the side. Already denuded by the loss of Thompson's lance, two of the 'mechs felled in the battle so far had been from her lance, and so Tanaka only had six 'mechs to push forward with. And they're out-massed, Kilroy mused. But we just need time, and they can buy it. I just hope they won't get too badly chewed up in the meantime.

* * * *

Twilight Sparkle winced as she felt the impact of several missile clusters, but suffered little from the strain of her shielding. I'm just glad they're not concentrating on any one of us, she thought, even as the heat rose a bit as McKenna pounded a distant Blackjack, which had tried to imitate its fallen lancemate and fire up towards the pegasi, who were now primarily clashing with the griffons in the air above the battle. The medium-weight 'mech took severe damage to its armor and then fell over, but not before he returned fire and slammed some shells into Twilight's shield.

“How're you holding up?” James asked. The question startled Twilight a bit, as she hadn't been expecting him to talk save to give orders, and she took a moment to think.

“Alright,” she replied. “It's not especially taxing so far. But then, we haven't been attacked much.”

“That might change soon,” McKenna observed, and then took a moment to gesture with his good hand. “They're sending their faster 'mechs to hit our flank, which means they'll be trying for a push up the ridge soon.”

The unicorn looked over the HUD, and then glanced down to a tactical display on one of the MFDs. “Isn't that why you had Stonewall's fall back position over there?”

“Him, or Hammer Group if they were going to try for the other flank,” James replied, with a smirk. “There's a lesson there, Twilight; if you disrupt your foe and push him too fast to let him think, he'll panic and make very predictable moves.”

Not exactly a lesson I thought I'd ever learn, Twilight mused, as she watched six BattleMechs push into high speed in order to brave the gauntlet of fire from the Dark Horse 'mechs on the ridge. But at least I'm learning it from this side. I just hope I never have to apply it, she thought, as McKenna started to give new orders over the radio.

* * * *

“—You in position, general?”

Stonewall grunted as he pulled one of the supply wagons that had been turned into a makeshift litter, as the wheels took some effort to pull over the tangled roots of the old growth forest the Equestrian army was using to cover their movements. Walking at his side was Alum Salt, who levitated the radio handset next to the earth pony's ears as they walked along. “Almost,” the general growled out. “We're at the place now, just settin' up.”

“I don't mean to be a bother, but try to hurry it up,” McKenna added. “They're pushing their mediums up like I thought they would, and they're heading up your flank. Sharp Sword's forces can delay them, but if your troops add in then we can slaughter 'em.”

Stonewall grimaced at the word choice, as his recent experience with the wounded made him sensitive to the concept. Still, I get the idea, he mused. “We'll do what we can, just give us two shakes.”

“Understood,” James replied, and then the radio clicked as he closed the channel.

Stonewall gestured to Alum Salt with his head, and the unicorn took the hint to put the radio back into one of the saddlebags he wore. “Go spread the word that we need to be ready to hit the enemy immediately,” the general ordered, even as he slowed the wagon to a stop. “And get the medics over here for these boys.”

Alum Salt nodded at the order, even as he applied his silvery magic to help Stonewall shimmy out of the harness. “Yes sir,” he replied, and then glanced back to the pile of wounded ponies. There were five of them in all, three badly hurt with burns and at least one had his leg burned right off. They had all been given powerful painkilling potions and immediate first-aid, but still needed much work done. The gray unicorn suppressed a shudder at the view, and then quickly turned and galloped off.

For his part, Stonewall turned to keep an eye on the wounded. He had picked a nice, shady spot under a large tree to keep them out of the sun and hopefully let them rest. Alas this was not to be for one stallion, and he moaned in pain as he awoke. “Sweet heavens, it hurts,” the unicorn with the missing limb grated out.

“Take it easy, son,” Stonewall said, as he walked up and laid a gentle hoof on the stallion's uninjured shoulder. It was a testament to his will that he made eye contact with the unicorn and not stare at the charred stump and burned flesh that marked a near-miss with a particle cannon. “You're gonna be just fine. We'll get ya to th' docs and they'll make ya right as rain.”

The stallion shook his head. “But, the war,” he groaned out.

“It's over for you, son, just relax,” Stonewall answered, with a soothing tone. “You'll be goin' home soon, ya earned that much.”

“But...” the young pony—lad is barely out of his teens, Stonewall guessed—“I gotta help. If I don't we might lose, and if we do...” he seemed to lose what little energy he had, as his head settled back on the field jacket made up as a makeshift pillow. “...There won't be a home to go to.”

Stonewall felt a wave of conflicting emotions at this. Pity for the poor stallion's injury, pride at his determination to continue, and a sense of fear that the unicorn might be right. He squashed them all, though, as he sighed. “What's your name, son?”

“Private Lime Pop, sir,” the appropriately-colored pony replied, and then winced as another round of human weaponry sounded in the distance. “F-from Vanhoover.”

“Well Lime, Ah promise ya, we're gonna win,” Stonewall said, conviction filling his voice. “An' you're part o' that, son, you were there to land th' first shots. Trust me, boy, there ain't anythin' ya need to worry about now 'cept getting' better. That's an order, ya hear?”

Lime Pop's eyes were drifting closed, but he managed a faint smile at that. “U-understood, sir,” he whispered, and then passed out.

Stonewall quickly pressed a hoof against the pony's throat, and then sighed in relief as he felt a pulse. We lost enough ponies today, he thought, as he took a step back. Gonna lose more, but I'll be damned if we don't try an' save as many as we can.

It was then that the medics arrived. The two earth pony mares looked haggard as they trotted up, but nevertheless went to work on the wounded stallions without hesitation, or even a glance towards the general. Stonewall didn't mind, and in fact found their quiet professionalism a welcome respite from the madness his world had fallen into, and he decided to take advantage of their silence to slip away to head for the new line.

Not that I would say it's especially silent, Stonewall mused, as the thunderous boom of a gauss rifle sounded in the distance, followed by many other weapon noises. He hastened his pace and soon ascended a rise in the terrain that lead to a small hill where his surviving forces had hastily dug in. A break in the trees allowed the general to look out over the battlefield, and despite his experience both old and new, he had to stop and gape.

In the fields and scrub below were several burning or blasted wrecks that marked the defeat or destruction of a Desperado BattleMech, while the surviving machines milled about, haphazardly retuning fire and engaging in evasive maneuvers to avoid being hit by incoming fire. Most of that came from the ridge to Stonewall's right, where the bulk of the Dark Horse's 'mechs were raining death upon the enemy. Missiles corkscrewed through the sky between the two forces, leaving trails of dirty-looking smoke hanging in the air, which were then illuminated by the beam trails of various lasers and PPC bolts. From the Desperadoes came bursts of autocannon fire, while the gauss rifles of the Dark Horse speared the air itself with thunderous fireballs. A glance above showed both griffon and pegasus alike engaged in a hard, close-quarters fight the likes of which hadn't been seen on Equis in centuries, while in the distance Stonewall could hear the continuing mix of screeching and thunder that marked the fight between the two sides' aerospace forces. “By the heavens,” the earth pony breathed.

“Sir!” Alum Salt spoke up from where he stood near some unit commanders, and Stonewall shook his head clear and then turned to walk up to his aide. “Six 'mechs approaching the ridge's left flank,” Salt added, and then pointed with a hoof.

Stonewall turned his head to see the faster medium and light 'mechs pushing up the ridge, using the sparse trees in the area to try and cover their approach. A moment of observation made him smile as he realized something. They're in that area McKenna and Schneider thought up. What'd he call them? “Kill zones”, that's it. “Everypony, setup and get ready!” Stonewall ordered. “We wait until the boys on the ridge hit 'em and then we let loose with everything we got!”

* * * *

“Hold your fire!” Sharp Sword ordered. “We get only one chance to surprise them!”

The order echoed down the line, and the numerous unicorns and pockets of earth ponies steeled their nerves and waited. Amongst them was Starchaser, and the mottled unicorn felt the odd mix of fear and anticipation that had been with her since leaving Canterlot had grown to the point where her knees were almost trembling. And yet I don't want to be anywhere else, she thought, even as gazed at the fearsome image of giant, bipedal war machines running forward at an incredible pace.

“You ready?” a voice beside her asked. Starchaser glanced to the right and saw her gray earth pony friend, Irlo, where he was balancing a recoilless rifle over the back of one of the other earth ponies assigned to his fire team; a necessary task given the ponies' normal quadrupedal stance. At the moment, though, he was looking at Starchaser with a concerned expression. “You look like you're ready to eat a dragonfire pepper.”

Starchaser winced at the reference to the insanely spicy pepper. “You're never going to let me live that down, are ya?” she grumbled. “And shouldn't you be aiming?”

“Eh,” Irlo replied, with a shrug. The movement shifted him and his weapon on the back of the private below him, who shot an angry glance at the other pony in reply, but Irlo ignored it. “It can't be that hard to hit something that big, right?”

Starchaser and the two earth ponies in Irlo's team—the third being a loader—all gave him incredulous looks, but had no time to say anything about his nonchalant attitude as a particle stream blasted closer to them than any human weapons had done yet so far. A glance over towards the Dark Horse 'mechs showed that they were starting to aim towards the oncoming Desperado force, but the ridgeline that had proven so effective a position was now starting to hinder them, as a rise in the terrain kept them from getting clear shots. The Desperadoes had seen this as they moved in and had changed their line of approach to take advantage of it.

Right into where we can hit them, Starchaser thought, as she saw the 'mechs clear as day, without the interference of trees or terrain. A grin graced her muzzle at that, and she felt a new thrill that graced her mind only in training exercises.

“Ut-oh, she's got that look again,” Irlo observed, with a worried visage.

“Uh, should we be worried?” the loader on his team asked. “She's kinda scaring me.”

Irlo opened his mouth to reply, but was preempted by Sharp Sword, who picked that moment to shout: “Ready!”

“Showtime,” Irlo muttered, as he turned and rapidly aimed the recoilless rifle as he'd been taught to do two days before.

“Aim!”

“This is gonna be fun,” Starchaser muttered.

“Fire!”

* * * *

Sara Tanaka, commander of the Desperadoes' third company, was not having a good day, or even a good month. First Thompson gets his lance shot up and his butt tied to base, she mused, even as she pushed her modified PXH-1D Phoenix Hawk forward, despite the PPC fire that streamed by. Then they ambush us and bomb us and ambush us again and I'm sick of it! Her mouth was twisted into a snarl as she lead the survivors of her company up the backside of a spur off the main ridge. And now we're used as flank bait. Well, so long as it gets us closer to winning, I might as well enjoy it, she thought, and then smirked as she saw that her unit was getting close to the top of the ridge. “Alright everyone,” she said, after triggering her radio. “Make sure to hit and run, and use the terrain to keep them from getting good shots. Engage as we crest.”

A chorus of confirmations sounded back, and Tanaka returned her attention to the direction of her 'mech. Tricky bit of terrain here, more rocks as we get towards the top, she thought. Good thing they don't have infantry up here, otherwise they'd have great cover. The errant thought passed through her mind, yet refused to leave, and the captain narrowed her eyes. But, what if they do? They've used that hiding trick before... A moment of realization hit her, and she triggered her radio again. “Hold!”

It was too late, though, as the air up near the ridge shimmered and a line of hundreds of ponies appeared where none had been before. Shields popped into existence in front of them a split second later, even as multicolored orbs of magic streaked towards the oncoming BattleMechs. Tanaka felt her Phoenix Hawk shudder as she took the brunt of the first volley, and a glance to her cockpit's status display showed that she was quickly losing armor. Not that the rest of her team escaped attention, as recoilless rifles blasted shells into several of the other 'mechs, and a few squads of unicorns tossed bolts at them as well.

Tanaka wasted no time to counterattack, and she pulled the triggers on her control joysticks immediately after aligning the targeting cursor on her HUD over the image of the native infantry. Three lasers, one large and two medium, poured kilojoules of energy into the shields of one squad, and managed to overload and drop them instantly. For a moment she wished she had a standard model Phoenix Hawk and its machine guns so she could follow up on the opening, but the immense spike of heat that flooded her cockpit made her glad for the additional heat sinks.

Another positive fact for her was that the other MechWarriors of the company were on the ball as well, and their 'mechs—three standard Phoenix Hawks, a Stinger and the damaged Vulcan—added their own lasers and machine guns—and in the case of the Vulcan, an autocannon—into the fight, all to tear into the enemy shields through them in some cases to hit the infantry behind. Bodies were flash burned or torn apart in a brutal display of mechanized warfare, and Tanaka felt her spirits rise a bit.

It was then that she felt the first impacts hitting her rear armor, and her HUD suddenly showed a new stream of energy projectiles flowing in from a hilltop to the northeast. The other infantry force! Tanaka realized, even as she threw her 'mech into a series of evasive maneuvers. How did they reposition so quickly? This second thought only lasted a moment before she winced and then turned the Phoenix Hawk's torso to fire her large laser towards the hill. They run everyone on all fours, that makes them faster than normal foot infantry. Damn!

More hits impacted her armor, and Tanaka watched through the compressed view of her holographic HUD as the rest of her unit started to lose what little protection the lighter, faster 'mechs had. “Everyone, fall back,” she ordered, via the company's command channel.

“Don't you dare!” O'Connell's voice chimed in. “We're finally organized down here and we're starting to push! Don't you let up on that flank!”

Figures the asshole was listening in, Tanaka thought, while she once again spun her 'mech around and speared some pony shields with her lasers. “Dammit, major! They've got us in a crossfire and those horses are sandblasting our armor!”

“Your 'mechs are all anti-infantry designs,” O'Connel growled. “So go and hit them! Either that or you run away and I get to kill you myself.”

Tanaka bit off her first reply, and then made sure to align her 'mech with the ridge. “Fine, but I'd better get one Hell of a bonus for this,” she growled back. “Third company, take to your jets and press the ridge!” With that, she stamped her feet down on one of the sets of pedals down by her feet, and a thunderous roar filled the cockpit as silvery jets of ion flame blasted out of the back of the Phoenix Hawk's torso. Thousands upon thousands of kilograms of force shoved the 45-tonne machine into the air, and with some work with the foot pedals and shifting of the 'mech's mass, Tanaka guided the machine through a ballistic arc to land well within point-blank range of the enemy infantry. The rest of her company followed, but she paid them little attention as she charged the line with weapons blazing.

* * * *

“By Luna's glorious plot!” Irlo shouted, with fear and surprise upon witnessing the enemy 'mechs fly through the air.

Part of Starchaser's mind made a note to smack Irlo later, but by far the majority of her attention was in holding up a shield as the enemy 'mechs charged forward. Machine guns joined in with the laser fire, and hot lead began to rip into ponies as the Desperado machines moved amidst the infantry, rendering the directional shields far less capable as now the individual ponies couldn't reinforce each other's spell. One 'mech even poured literal fire from one of its arms and set several unicorns ablaze, while several machines made sure to use their weight and height to their advantage to step on several hapless soldiers.

Irlo, meanwhile, recovered and managed to fire his recently-reloaded recoilless rifle. The shell flew up and forward to smack into the side of one of the 'mechs' heads, and it seemed to pause to steady itself. Aha! Starchaser thought, even as she dropped her spell. “Everypony! Target the head!” she shouted, hoping to garner the attention of other unicorns. She didn't know if anyone heard her, but found herself suddenly uncaring as she charged up her offensive kinetic burst, and then lined her horn with the head of the Phoenix Hawk. Then she released the spell, and her head actually moved back from the force of it.

She was rewarded with a direct hit on the machine's cockpit, and Starchaser savagely grinned as the 'mech hesitated for a moment. The grin faded, however, as she saw the machine turn in her direction and brought its arms up to point the deadly weapons within at her. “I'm dead,” she muttered.

“Not yet!” Irlo shouted, as he grabbed the unicorn's tail in his mouth, and then yanked hard as he turned to run. Taken by surprise, Starchaser yelped and fell to the ground before she was painfully dragged at a surprisingly fast speed by the earth pony, just ahead of the other members of his fire team. The move was fortuitous, as the Phoenix Hawk's machine guns and lasers ripped through the area they had been. Then the fire traced further on, and Starchaser felt her heart sink as she watched a squad of ponies get obliterated by the furiously destructive weapons.

Scarcely had this been finished when another wave of fire from unicorns and earth pony recoilless rifles alike focused in on this particular 'mech. Holes opened up in its armor, and especially over its chest to reveal the inner structure and mechanisms. Starchaser saw this, and her mind clicked into overdrive. It's vulnerable now! She thought, even a she kicked out with a back leg and made Irlo trip. The two fell to the ground in a heap, and the earth pony shouted a curse at her, but Starchaser ignored it as she stood and then charged another kinetic burst. This time, however, she kept charging past the normal 'safe' limits that training had drilled into her, and she kept the magic building until her horn felt like it was going to split open. Then she fired, and the blast promptly knocked her backwards and onto her back.

The effect on the enemy machine was worse, though, as the kinetic burst slammed into the exterior shielding around the Phoenix Hawk's fusion engine. Already damaged from the various blasts that had ripped away the last of the armor protecting it, the shielding buckled under the impact and crushed one of the field generators underneath it, and the magnetic bottle it supported failed. A picosecond later the searing plasma of the fusion reaction slammed into the reactor's interior shielding and vaporized it, which sent a shockwave throughout the entire engine and blasted a hole out through the weakest point; where the shielding had been hit from the outside. Air raced into the hole and into the vacuum-sealed inner reaction chamber to mix with the remaining plasma, which promptly redistributed all the thermal energy and killed the last of the fusion reaction, while every material object capable of it was immediately oxidized. Of course, the now superheated air expanded rapidly and blasted back out of the hole in the shielding in a fantastic display of light and sound.

All of this occurred in but a fraction of a second, and for all intents and purposes it looked as if the engine had exploded. A fireball of brilliant, ionized air blazed in front of the 'mech while whole chunks of its internal components were shredded and flung out at tremendous velocity, even as the Phoenix Hawk fell to the ground with an earth-shaking thump.

For her part Starchaser blinked hard to clear her vision, and then stared at the fallen war machine for a few, long moments. Then her face was split by a maniacal grin, and she laughed. “Ha! Ha ha ha ha ha! BOOM! Ahahahaha!” she cackled.

A short distance away, Irlo and his team were setting up again, this time behind a rock that would give them cover from the now much closer Desperadoes. “Hey, Rock Breaker?” Irlo said to his loader, who glanced at the gray pony. “She scares me, too.”

* * * *

“Dammit,” James McKenna muttered, as he watched the enemy push further than he had anticipated. “I thought they'd fall back.”

“Is that a problem? Twilight Sparkle asked, as she craned her neck to try and get a good look at was was happening via the tactical display.

“Maybe,” James replied, and then triggered his radio. “Rebecca, shore up the left flank,” he ordered, and only paused for a moment for her simple confirmation before he turned his attention back to his gunnery. “They're green, but they're still pushing hard,” he explained to Twilight, the shift in his tone letting the pony know he was speaking to her again. “I didn't think they had it in them,” James added, as he fired his weapons again. The LRM-20 spat out a rain of semi-ballistic missiles that arched down to hammer into one of the well-armored Griffins, but his gauss rifle unfortunately missed and buried its slug into the ground between a Shadow Hawk and the enemy's damaged Merlin.

“But, you accounted for this, right?” Twilight asked, even as she winced as particle cannon fire impacted her shield. Being as strong as she was, the beams were deflected or denuded, and the Highlander only took a slight amount of armor damage on the left arm.

“Unfortunately,” James grumbled out. “Damn, I really wanted them to break and run and end this quicker...” He let his voice trail off, and then sighed. “But this is war, after all,” he added, and then had his 'mech move backwards a few paces to put more of the ridgeline between him and the enemy. He then reached out with his good arm and triggered the radio. “General Stonewall, please come in.”

A moment of silence came back, but soon a voice was heard. “This is corporal Alum Salt, the general is a bit busy,” he said. “How can I help?”

McKenna absentmindedly nodded to himself as he recognized the other pony's voice. “Tell the general we need to enact plan Antietam and he is to move his forces immediately. We'll hold on the ridge until the royal army can begin withdrawal and then cover you all as we fall back.”

“Understood, I'll tell the general,” Alum Salt replied.

“Excellent, and out,” James said, and then switched channels. “Hermes?”

“I think I know what you're going to say,” Schneider said. “I've already got a bug-out path picked.”

“Good, get going,” James replied, and then switched the radio to his lance's channel. “Anvil group, we're enacting Antietam. Get ready to fall back on my order.”

A chorus of confirmations came back, and James switched the radio to standby. “Well, looks like this will be a longer fight than I hoped,” he observed, for his passenger. “I'm glad we set up that re-arming point on the other side of the river.”

“Do we really need to fall back?” Twilight asked, with a bit of confusion in her voice. “You took out a bunch of their machines already.”

“Yeah, but they still have the numbers, and though your shields have helped, we've lost armor on our 'mechs as well,” James replied. “Look, you can see them already forming up to press us,” he added, and then gestured to the HUD. Twilight looked, and then nodded as she saw the Desperado 'mechs moving into an arrowhead formation as they pushed forward. “I wanted a nice, quick victory, but looks like we still have to earn it the hard way.”

“I see,” Twilight Sparkle said, and then sighed herself. “At least we haven't lost yet.”

“There is that,” James agreed, as he shifted his aim for one last barrage.

* * * *

Some distance away, on a hilltop obscured by trees, a set of reptilian eyes gazed over the smoke-choked, explosion-wracked battlefield with a calculating expression set on their owners' visage. “It seems they are going to fall back,” a voice beside the being said, and she glanced to the side to see one of her generals watching the fight with interest.

“Indeed,” Chrysalis, queen of the changelings, replied. “This would be the right time to enact our plan, then,” she added, as she turned to gaze at the battle once again.

The soldier-caste changeling waited a few moments before he spoke up. “Yes. I'll send the order,” he said.

Chrysalis heard the hesitation in his voice, and then turned fully to face the male. “Do you have an issue with my command?” she asked, her voice silky soft—for her kind, at least—yet promising punishment if she felt like it was warranted.

“Not as such, my queen,” the general said, even as he turned to face his liege. “But the motivation for this move escapes me. I know the ponies are not exactly our friends, but to strike them when they're already being pushed back seems wasteful.”

The queen nodded at his words. “I suppose it seems that way from one who lacks the big picture,” she said, somewhat condescendingly, as she turned to face towards the battlefield in the distance once again. “But I shan't hold it against you, Shale, as it's not in your breeding.”

General Shale held his expression perfectly neutral, even as he grimaced internally at the overbearing monarch's attitude. If only her daughter would finally get the stones to launch a coup... he thought, and then forced himself back to the present. “I beg your indulgence then, my queen,” he said. “If you would; it would help my command ability if I knew what the end goal will be.”

Chrysalis glanced over to Shale again, and then nodded her head. “Yes, I suppose it would help to know what your aim is,” she admitted, and then turned her head back to the fight. “As you know, general, we feed on love. To get that, we must impersonate ponies and any other race of similar size to siphon the love they have for one another.”

“As every hatchling has been taught since the First Mother,” shale added. Although his tone was even and respectful, his very words were a subtle chastisement.

His liege noticed this, and she shot him a poisonous look, but let it go at that. “My point being, general, is that our proud and strong race must constantly hide from the others, just to keep the flow of life-giving energy going into our settlements.” Chrysalis' face twisted into a sneer at this, and she scoffed. “We, who are some of the greatest warriors this planet has seen. We, who take the energy of other races and bend it to our will, are forced to live underground—figuratively and literally—just to avoid having our food cut off.

“Not that it has been enough lately, anyway,” Chrysalis continued, and she began to pace a bit. “Every year our population grows, and every year there's less and less to go around as we can place only so many infiltrators before ponies start to notice their towns' populations swelling. Our race, our entire species is held down by our need to trick love from others.” She paused, and then smirked at the general. “But if we didn't have to trick it out of them, then we could take our place at the top as we so truly deserve!”

Shale let her proclamation stand for a moment before he chimed in. “But our invasion of Canterlot didn't work out so well, your highness,” he observed.

The smirk vaporized off of Chrysalis' muzzle, but she nodded. “Yes. We—no, I underestimated the ponies' strength,” she admitted, with a glance to the side. Shale was impressed at the brief moment of humility, but he pushed his musings aside as the queen once again turned to him and regained her haughty posture. “Which is why we will use their strengths against them.”

If Shale could raise an eyebrow, he would have. Instead, he simply fluttered his insect-like wings a bit. “And how will aiding these coarse invaders accomplish that?” he asked, curious. “How is it even using the ponies' strength against them?”

Chrysalis sighed and shook her head. “Oh soldiers, you of such little imagination,” she said, and then resumed her pacing. “The ponies' strength has now and always been their belief. Belief in themselves, belief in their friends, and most of all, belief in their princesses,” she explained, even as she stopped to gaze out at the distant battle. “Even now, when faced with weapons and foes so powerful that they are killed by the dozens, by scores and bushels, they continue to fight. And though I am not a soldier myself, general, even I can see they are holding their own despite their disadvantages.

“But belief is a double-edged sword,” Chrysalis continued, and then grinned. “I used that to my advantage in Canterlot, and fooled every one of those foals.” She paused again, and her face fell into an expression of anger. “Save one. Oh, how I long to get my hooves wrapped around her scrawny little little neck and then squeeze it until—”

“A double-edged sword?” Shale asked. The interruption disturbed Chrysalis from her growing rant, and she nodded.

“Yes. Belief can make them blind to things they'd rather not witness, but more importantly, belief can be shattered,” she added, and the grin returned. “These invaders are their match, but only their match; not their superiors. The ponies will fight, and likely win with their queer allies, just as they believe they can.”

“Until we step in,” Shale said, his tone laced with his growing understanding.

Chrysalis nodded. “You begin to see, then. If we aid the enemy, even if only a bit, we will ensure Equestria's defeat. And when that happens, the ponies' faith in themselves, in their 'friendship' and their princesses will be broken; they will be broken.” The grin widened, and Chrysalis' fangs glinted in the midday light. “Their society will crumble, and we will rebuild it in our image.”

Shale frowned at that, and he glanced over towards the battle. “Pardon my lack of imagination, your majesty,” he carefully spoke, as to not sound as if he were criticizing his queen. “But I do not see how this plan gains us love, nor do I see how helping a third party conquer Equestria will give us a chance to claim it for ourselves.”

Chrysalis scoffed again. “Of course you don't, general,” she said. “Your kind lacks the long view, but I shall try to explain it:

“When Equestria is conquered, the ponies will be broken, their fear and hopelessness will drain the fight from them, and they will be easy to manipulate,” she began, her tone growing eager as she explained her vision. “Love will become less shared, harder to find between strangers, but what love that is shared will be ten times as potent, as the more love is hoarded the more precious it is to those who feel it. As changelings, we can take the shape of loved ones that were believed lost in the war, or even just the usual temporary replacements, and that empowered love will dramatically increase our energy stores and ease the rationing, perhaps even to make us stronger than before.

“And then we will begin our work,” Chrysalis continued, and her eyes seemed to glaze over as she looked deep into her mind's eye. “With their princesses dead—and our intelligence tells us that O'Connell has every intention of slaying them—the ponies will be leaderless, hopeless, and yearning for direction. It is then we will start to approach them quietly, in back alleys, pubs, anywhere their new overlords won't always be able to watch. We will fight their oppressors, aid them, and in return they will start to love us as we are, and not as who we pretend to be.”

Shale grumbled slightly. “How will they come to love us? Will they not remember Canterlot, or the aid we will give to these invaders?”

Chrysalis laughed. “Oh, general, you forget how short-sighted the ponies are,” she replied. “At their lowest, when they are pushed into the mud, they will take any hoof given to them. And to rationalize accepting help from a former enemy, they will start to make excuses for us. We will tell them the new truth, and they will willingly accept it lest they condemn themselves for consorting with us.

“But most of all, general, we will give them what the oppressors never can: hope.” The queen paused at that, and then smiled as a confused look washed over the soldier. “Hope is a powerful emotion, one that can motivate any being into doing just about anything they set their minds to. But as with belief, hope is double-edged, and when it is lost it can destroy a being's motivation to live. What we will do, Shale, is we will let the invaders take away that hope. The ponies will cower and lose their belief, and the world will be dark to them. Then we will come, defeat the invaders with our subterfuge and fighting skill and give them the hope to live a better life, free from the chains the invaders will put on them, and for that they will love and accept us, first as allies, then as rulers. And then,” she added, as she raised a hoof up in a megalomaniac gesture. “We will control Equestria, and the love of the ponies, once kept to themselves, will feed our species and make us the mighty and indomitable force we were destined to be!”

Shale let the echoes of his queen's triumphant shout fade before he cleared his throat. “While I yield to your experience in the realm of manipulating ponies, your highness,” he began, as Chrysalis gave him an irritated look. “I must ask you, how do you intend we defeat the invaders if they can beat the ponies who defeated us?”

“Please, general, do you need me to tell you your job?” Chrysalis asked, with a roll of her eyes; a gesture that made Shale envious. “Our aid to the invaders will be fleeting, only tipping the scale when necessary. For the most part we will sit back and conserve our strength while our enemies pound each other into greasy paste,” she added, and then looked to the distant battle yet again. “Even now both sides are suffering, are wearing each other down. The ponies once beat us with their power, but only just, and that was after a mere day of fighting. When we begin to make our moves, both they and the invaders who conquer them will have destroyed each other's strength, leaving us to move in with our signature tactics and disrupt them from within until all order is replaced with chaos.”

“And we will step into that chaos as the only viable power with any coherence,” Shale added in, and then waited for Chrysalis to nod. “I do believe I see now, my queen,” he said, and then bowed to her.

“I am glad,” she dryly replied. “Now, see to my orders and have our infiltrated soldiers begin their mission.”

“At once, your highness.”

* * * *

“Fall back, dammit!”

Captain Sharp Sword's voice cut through the mind-numbing din of battle, and Starchaser glanced over to see most of the line starting to disengage, even as Rebecca McKenna's Warhammer poured devastating fire from its pulse lasers, Streak SRM-6, and one PPC into the Vulcan. The latter 'mech virtually disintegrated under the barrage, and its pilot ejected as the machine collapsed to join the two Phoenix Hawks that had also been felled by the combination of unicorn spellfire, earth pony crewed recoilless rifles, and BattleMech support. Starchaser absorbed all of this in a heartbeat, and she quickly used what little magic she had left to tweak Irlo's ear. The earth pony glanced over to her, and then nodded when she gestured with a hoof. “Alright, let's go you two!” he said, as he turned back to his weapons crew.

The two ponies nodded back, and they began the breakdown procedure they had learned back in Canterlot, while Irlo helped. The latter and the private who had braced most of his shots would slit the weight of the weapon between them, while the loader would carry the remaining ammunition. For her part, Starchaser had stayed with the group after Irlo had saved her life, as her squad was nowhere to be found, and she dared not think about what might have happened to them. Instead, she concentrated her magic back into a shield as the remaining Desperado 'mechs fired towards the ponies on the ridge, even as they rapidly fell back themselves under the guns of the Warhammer.

I'm exhausted, my magic's drained, and a lot of ponies are dead, Starchaser thought, as she waited for the weapons team to finish stowing their recoilless rifle. But we held, we held and we gave as good as we got, she added, with a bit of pride filtering through the terror and sorrow. Now, all we need to do is get away, find a new spot, and then do it all over again. Most of her wanted to cry at the idea of another battle, the sheer violence and death inflicting fear and weariness upon her soul, but she remained resolute. It's this or surrender, and we won't surrender. Not while we can still fight, and not when we still have a chance to win!

Just then a glint in the air caught her eyes, and Starchaser looked up to see a green flare of magic rising up from somewhere in the distance. Even as she watched, several more rose high into the air from various positions around the outskirts of the battlefield, and she frowned. “Look,” she said to the weapons team, and then pointed a hoof towards the nearest flare when they gave her their attention. “What the hay is that?” she asked, of no one in particular.

Unfortunately, someone answered. “Your doom,” the loader said, and before anypony could react he was engulfed in green flames. Scarcely had the magic dropped away when the changeling charged forward and slammed Starchaser in the face with a flying kick with his rear hooves and sent her flying and onto her back.

Starchaser yelled in pain as she rolled on the ground, but she managed to regain her senses after a moment and quickly climbed to her hooves. She then looked over and saw Irlo desperately fighting the changeling, while his loader lay unmoving on the ground, blood pouring from a large, fatal gash torn out of his neck. Irlo looked to be holding his own as he reared on his hind legs and boxed the changeling away from his own vital arteries, but Starchaser decided not to leave it to chance, and she reached out with her magic to yank the changeling to the ground. Caught off balance, the shapeshifter fell, and Irlo took the opportunity to land on the being's neck with both of his forelegs. The crunch of cracking chitin and bone was heard over the din of war, and both Starchaser and Irlo took a moment to catch their breaths. “What the hay was that?” Irlo finally asked.

“Changeling, like the one they caught in Canterlot,” Starchaser said, and then looked around. To her horror she saw that the orderly withdrawal the royal army had been engaged in was now a cluster of brawls and no mercy fighting as numerous changeling infiltrators did their best to kill or disable as many ponies as possible. “Sweet merciful heavens,” she muttered.

“C'mon,” Irlo said, with a nudge to her shoulder. “We need to go help the others.”

Starchaser nodded at that, and then ran after Irlo when he turned to head for the nearest fight.

* * * *

Another burst of sub-machinegun fire ripped apart a griffon, and Rainbow Dash followed through on the attack to race out the other side of the furball. To her side and rear came the Wonderbolt squad she was assigned to—or assigned to her, as the case actually was—their swords tainted with red once again. How long are they going to fight? Dash mentally asked, as she felt her stomach churn. We're outperforming them, can't they see that? Why do they keep pressing in? Why do they act like their own lives don't matter?

Rainbow pushed the thoughts from her mind as she turned to once again head for the nearest group of griffons and assault wing pegasi engaged in hoof-to-claw fighting. The trained pegasi of the royal guard moved through the air with a precision that belied their heavy armor, while the griffons pushed in with relentless energy and near berserker focus. Even as she approached, her eyes took in the fight below, and she saw that the Desperadoes were pushing up the ridge despite the fire they were taking, yet she put this out of her mind as she focused on what she could do to try and end the fight more quickly.

When the green flares started to appear, though, she had to slow down and consider them, which let Spitfire and Soarin pull up with her. “Are those your friends' signals?” the former asked.

Rainbow Dash shook her head. “No, there isn't any part of the plan for green flares,” she replied.

Spitfire frowned, but didn't have time to reply before large flashes of green came from the furball, and both she and Dash looked towards these new sources of light. Both mares were shocked when they saw changelings appear and start to attack the guardsponies with reckless abandon, even as the griffons pushed in, nonplussed at the sudden appearance of the new beings. Of course, they disliked the changelings as much, if not more so than the ponies did, and so the fight quickly degenerated into a massive three-way free-for-all.

“What in Tartarus is going on!” Spitfire shouted, confused at the appearance of the new/old enemy.

“This is bad,” Soarin chimed in. “Everypony's losing unit cohesion.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Rainbow Dash asked, as she glanced over the other ponies around her. “They need our help!”

“Agreed,” Spitfire said. “But we can't dive and slash with all of them mixed with our troops. Everypony, split up into elements,” she added, with the order being given to the squad behind her while she glanced back at them. “Lead ponies go for the changelings, wing ponies watch their backs,” she added, and then turned to Dash once she got confirming nods. “You're with me and Soarin.”

“Understood,” Rainbow replied, with a nod.

Spitfire nodded back, and then turned to dive back into the furball, with Soarin and Dash right behind her, while the other ponies of the squad peeled off in pairs. Unlike before the trio slowed as they approached, and this made them easier targets for griffon archers, who sent arrows their way. The nimble, acrobatic pegasi dodged them easily, but the shots delayed their approach and served to distract them. One griffon took advantage of this and flew in close while the trio were dodging arrows, and nearly took Soarin's head off with a battleaxe. The stallion managed to move to the side at the last second, though, and Rainbow Dash moves in to buck the griffon right in the back with both of her rear legs. She put everything she had into the kick, and she winced as she heard and felt the griffon's spine crack under her hooves since the leather armor he wore offered little protection against blunt force trauma. Heavens, I'm so sorry, she thought, even as she turned around and watched the griffon fall from the sky. She started to nose over in a dive to catch him, but an armored, yellow hoof caught her shoulder and made her look up.

To her surprise, Spitfire gave her a sympathetic look. “I know,” she said, quietly. “But we look after our own, first, then see to the others,” she added, in a voice filled with iron.

Rainbow frowned, but nodded. “Yeah,” she said, the one word loaded with all the emotion she could heft onto it.

Spitfire nodded back, and then turned to head off towards the nearest cluster of fighters. Soarin gave Dash a smile and a quiet 'thanks' before he followed, and Dash herself quickly moved to join them. They arrived just as the two changelings that had been fighting the pegasi ducked and weaved through the Equestrian fliers, shapeshifting into pony disguises as they did so. The move was well timed, as a passel of griffon raiders soared in and immediately distracted the ponies from the infiltrators in their midst, who soon lost track of the disguised enemies.

Dash, however, let her keen eye track them, and when one of the changelings turned and raised his blade to stab a pony in the back, she shifted her gunsight over him, and then fired. A trio of slugs ripped into the faux pegasus, and the disguise faded away even as the now-dead changeling dropped from the sky.

Firing on the enemy had drawn some of her focus away from the other changeling, however, and he took advantage of this to drop his own disguise and charge towards Rainbow Dash at full speed. Years of training in stunt flying gave Dash an edge, though, and she managed to do a quick backwards somersault to get out of her foe's flight path. Once he was past, she rolled through the rest of her backflip and quickly aligned her front with the changeling while he used the natural agility of his insect-like wings to make a very quick turn back towards her. He hissed a battlecry as he closed in on the pegasus, and his fangs were bared to rip into her flesh.

Not gonna happen, Rainbow thought, as her eyes narrowed and she triggered the firearm at her side again. The weapon spat out three more rounds, and then clicked as its magazine ran dry. The final bullets were enough, however, as they smashed apart the chitin on the changeling's head and turned his brain into paste, and the dead body fell towards the ground.

Rainbow Dash watched it fall, and she felt her stomach twist again. Never had to watch my own killing so close and personal before, she thought, as most of the griffons she had killed had been in the middle of a quick flyby. Seeing it like that... oh heavens, what am I doing out here?

Her ruminations were interrupted by a sharp pain against her side, and Dash yelped in pain as she was sent hurtling sideways through the sky. A few flaps of her wings steadied her, however, and she turned to see a griffon with a warhammer had gotten the drop on her. Yet to both of their surprise, she remained relatively uninjured. Though my ribs are going to hurt in the morning, Dash thought, even as she narrowed her eyes at the other flier. Good thing I have this armor.

The griffon recovered from his surprise right after her, and then charged towards Dash, his wings flapping hard as he brought the warhammer up high. His movements were sluggish when compared to the athletic pony, though, and Dash was able to maneuver around him in a spiral as his powerful charge took him right past the pony's position.

I wish this gun was loaded, Dash thought, even as she briefly remembered the instruction on how to reload the SMG from the spare magazines she carried in a pouch on her waist. But I don't have the time for that. Guess I'd better use the 'gift' McCoy got me. After Dash's participation in the fight was confirmed, the armorer had studied how the pegasi had their swords fastened to their limbs, and he had quickly adapted one such accoutrement to hold something a bit different from the typical Equestrian blade. Dash reached down and took the proffered weapon from a holster strapped to one of her rear legs, and then quickly set it into position.

The griffon warrior, meanwhile, had already used his momentum to swing into an orbit around the pegasus, who watched him with wary eyes. Rainbow Dash also kept her attention on the area around her, and so wasn't surprised when another griffon charged in with a spear when he thought her back was to him. She had seen the twitch of his muscles as he prepared to charge, and thus was already moving in a rolling, ascending turn as the warrior raced through where she had been.

I don't want to do this, Dash thought, as she rolled back and dove to catch up to the spear-carrying griffon. But heavens help me, I have to. She felt tears in her eyes and told herself it was just the wind, conveniently ignoring the fact that she had a face shield to protect her from said wind. Instead, Dash just kept her focus on the spear-carrying foe as he realized he was being chased, and followed him through all of his twists and turns while she steadily closed the distance with her speed and maneuverability. Finally, the griffon spun around and attempted to slam Rainbow with the long shaft of his weapon, but the pony dodged it easily and brought up the weapon lashed to her right foreleg. A jerk of her leg set the vibroblade to active, and the metal composite blade suddenly glowed white-hot as it was vibrated to an insanely high frequency.

The oscillations acted much as sawing would have done, only at incredibly fast speeds, and when combined with the heat and the already sharp, advanced metal of the blade, the weapon easily sliced through the griffon's spear and armor without even slowing down. Dash had a split second to see the look of surprise on the other flier's face before the blade continued on and sliced through the side of his neck. Then she was past the griffon, and a glance back showed her that he was dropping from the sky.

A screech came from off to her left, and Dash snapped her wings shut and dropped through the air as the warhammer wielding griffon charged at her, apparently enraged at the death of his comrade. Once again, however, Dash used her incredible speed and agility to quickly catch up to the griffon, and he barely had time to turn around and hold up his warhammer in a guard position before Dash flew in and sliced clear through the hardened metal like butter. Split in half, the weight of the warhammer's two pieces pulled themselves out of the griffon's claws and he could only gape in shock as he was bereft of any defense.

Rainbow Dash brought up her right hoof to strike, but then paused as she saw the haunted look in the griffon's eyes. She hovered there for a moment, and then lowered her blade. “I'll do you a favor and let you live,” she growled out. “But only if you run right now and don't come back. I see you again, I won't hesitate to cut you in half.”

The griffon nodded at that, and then turned and flew towards the north, diving as he did so. Rainbow Dash watched him go, and then jerked her leg again to turn the vibroblade off. McCoy said the battery's limited, so I'll try and save it, she thought.

“You let him live?”

The calm voice asked from next to her, and Rainbow jerked her body around to face the speaker. To her surprise, she found captain Starbuck hovering next to her, his armor bloodied but otherwise fine. Dash could only stare at him for a moment before she collected her wits, and then nodded. “I'm getting real sick of killing,” she said, her voice a bit gravelly from strain, both emotional and physical.

Starbuck nodded back. “We all are,” he added, and then looked around. Rainbow did as well, and she saw the reason they could have their brief chat was the fact that her fight with the two griffons had taken her a ways from the furball. She could tell it was dying, though, as both griffons and ponies were disengaging and dealing with changeling infiltrators. Then Starbuck spoke again, and she focused her attention on him. “Come on, rejoin your group and let's fall back.”

“Right,” Rainbow replied, and then turned to fly off to join Spitfire and Soarin, who were already approaching. First aliens, then griffons, now changelings. Can this mess get any worse?

“'Bout time you showed back up, rook,” Spitfire called out as Rainbow joined their formation. “The fight's fading in the sky, so we're pulling back to help the ground-pounders with this changeling problem.”

“Understood, captain,” Dash replied. My duty's not over yet. “Lead on.”

* * * *

“What the Hell is going on!” James McKenna asked, as the infantry units around his Highlander fell into utter chaos and no-holds-barred brawls.

“Changelings,” Twilight breathed. “Those green flashes, those are changeling infiltrators. But how? Why?”

James heard the shock in her voice, but he could spare the unicorn no attention as he tried to keep from stepping on any of the soldier ponies at his 'mech's feet. They were retreating in good order, too, he thought, even as he turned his ride's torso to take in more of the field near him. He had just fallen back from the ridge top after trading another series of shots with the oncoming and increasingly determined Desperado force, and his unit had intended to cover the infantry's retreat even as they themselves made a fighting withdrawal, per the plan. Now it's all going to Hell at just the wrong time!

“Boss, we've got serious problems here,” Dorian Carmine's voice came, via the radio. “I've got multiple attackers striking the infantry every time they try to organize and I can't get a clear shot.”

“Confirmed,” Rebecca McKenna chimed in. “They drop their disguise, kill a few, then try to disappear only to do it again whenever someone tries to get his comrades straightened out.”

James frowned, even as he swept his guns over the various clusters of fighting infantry. Ninety tonnes of weapons and armor, and I'm impotent to help. “Are they targeting the officers?” he asked.

“Looks like it,” Rebecca replied.

A new voice suddenly cropped up on the channel. “McKenna!” general Stonewall called. “We're bein' hit hard from within. Any help ya can give would be mighty appreciated!”

“BattleMechs ain't exactly made to sort out infantry melees, general,” James replied, while his eyes desperately scanned his HUD and cockpit displays for any bit of information to help with the situation. “We can't fire on them without killing a bunch of your own people.”

“We might be able to help,” another voice spoke up, which McKenna immediately recognized as belonging to captain Starbuck. “They didn't seem to infiltrate the air units so bad, so we've managed to clear them out, and the griffons are falling back to lick their wounds. I've already called the assault wing and the Wonderbolts back to assist the ground forces; we'll be there in a moment.”

“Damn good to hear it,” Stonewall chimed in.

“Starbuck, can you route some forces to my position?” James asked. “Our 'mechs are stuck because the fights spilled out of the travel lanes and they're all around our feet.”

“I'll send the 'bolts to you, the assault wing will assist Stonewall's brigade,” Starbuck replied.

“You'd best be quick,” James added. “The Desperadoes are going to have our balls in a vice if we're still here when they crest that ridge.”

“Then we'll move like lightning,” Starbuck promised. Then the channel clicked as he turned his set to standby.

“I'd rather they move faster than that,” Carmine chimed in.

“Stow it, Dorian,” James countered. “Everyone, turn to face the ridge, but be ready to bug out the instant the infantry's sorted.”

* * * *

Rainbow Dash pushed herself nearly to sonic rainboom speeds as she barreled through the sky ahead of the Wonderbolts. This time she had asked to go forward, and Spitfire had relented when it was clear how urgent the situation was. Thus the chromatic pegasus was already heading for the opposite side of the ridge that had until recently served so well as an ambush point, and her eyes took in the scene as soon as she passed it.

The five slower 'mechs of the Dark Horse were stuck fast in a quagmire made of bodies and brawls than of quicksand, as the Equestrian army attempted to fight back against the numerically inferior, but utterly vicious and unfettered infiltrators within their own ranks. Rainbow easily picked out several changelings as they dropped disguises and attacked ponies with fangs, or in some cases shifted into the image of a pony who was in the middle of fighting one of their uncloaked brethren, and then sowed confusion by attacking the pony soldiers in the guise of an ally.

They're working together, Dash realized, as she saw several groups of changelings, usually two or three, and none larger than four, perform the same maneuvers again and again. One gets their attention and the others kill when a pony's back is turned. Our guys are being slaughtered and they don't even know how! Her eyes narrowed at that, and she gave a brief prayer of thanks that she had taken a moment to reload the SMG. Rainbow slowed as she approached, and then dove in at the closest group of changelings amidst the ponies they had betrayed. You can hide from ponies who can't see around them, but I know exactly where and who you are, she thought, as she could see every changeling when they revealed themselves, and her mind easily tracked them even after they took up another disguise.

It was a thus an almost literal bolt from the blue as Rainbow Dash slowed down almost to her stalling speed and fired the SMG at her first target. The disguised changeling had been about to plunge a sword into the back of an earth pony when the bullets tore apart his cranium and revealed the deception to everypony around as the body collapsed to the ground. Rainbow didn't even bother to watch, though, as she had already switched to her next target and fired again to stitch holes through the side of another disguised foe. This changeling didn't die immediately, but he lost control over his disguise and, reeling from the pain, was unable to defend himself as the soldiers he had tormented fell upon him with vengeful fury.

Rainbow repeated this act numerous times over the following minutes. She would use her superior position to mark her targets, and then swoop in on them like a bird of prey. Her SMG spat out round after round of lead, and any changeling she didn't outright kill was rendered an easy mark for the ground forces. She had gotten so used to the actions that she didn't even notice Spitfire approach her until the latter was already flying position off her left wing. “Hey!”

“Bwuh?” Dash uttered, as she snapped her head up. “Captain, what is it?”

Spitfire gave the younger mare a curious look. “You do realize you got them all, right?” she dryly asked.

Rainbow frowned, and then looked down again. Much to her surprise she saw no signs of any further changeling activity, and the infantry was finally sorting itself out and retreating, albeit slowly as they sought to recover the wounded. “When did that happen?”

“About two minutes ago,” Spitfire replied, with a tone of admiration. “You've been kinda stuck in repeat mode since then.”

Rainbow felt a blush run up her cheeks, while her stomach twisted into a new knot. “Sorry. I just wanted to protect our guys,” she said, lamely.

“That you did, Rainbow,” Spitfire said, with a nod. “Now c'mon, let's keep a watch on them as they fall back.”

Dash nodded back to her idol. “Yes ma'am.”

* * * *

Twilight Sparkle sighed in relief as the royal army finally began to pull into the forests on the backside of the ridge. “Thank heavens that's over with,” she said, even as the Highlander she rode in swayed with movement.

“The hard part ain't over yet,” James McKenna observed to her. The steel in his voice brought the unicorn's attention from the cockpit displays and over to him, and Twilight saw his face hardened into a mask of concern. She didn't have a moment to ask James about his comment before warning alarms blared in the cockpit and red icons popped into existence on the HUD. “Shields up, if you would.”

Twilight didn't bother to reply, but instead quickly threw up her defensive shield once again. A glance through the distorted view of the holographic HUD showed the unicorns in the other Dark Horse 'mechs doing the same, which was fortunate as long-range missiles started to rain down on their positions. Twilight herself winced as the shield sent feedback into her brain when it detonated a score of the incoming weapons. “I see what you mean,” she wryly commented.

“Just hold on,” James replied, and then switched on his radio as he stopped his 'mech and spun it around to face towards the enemy. The superior training and experience of the other MechWarriors in his command showed through as they mirrored the action without hesitation or command, though James triggered the radio anyway. “Trade a salvo to give the infantry time, and then fade into the woods,” he ordered, and then fired at the first target he could see; an upgraded Centurion. A gauss slug ripped the air apart as it blasted into the as yet untouched 'mech's torso armor, though his LRMs lost all lock in mid-flight and furrowed into the ground to blast dirt and rocks into the air.

Had the range been as it had been through most of the fight, that would have been it. But the distance to the ridge was not so great as it had been from the ridge top to the ambush zone, and so McKenna threw in his shorter-ranged weapons as well, and three medium lasers mounted in the Highlander's chest slagged armor off of the Centurion's legs and left arm, while the SRM rack in the assault 'mech's left arm managed to land four out of six missiles around the enemy machine, battering even more protection from it.

It was a credit to the Centurion's pilot that the 'mech did not lose its balance; no mean feat after being struck by such a heavy attack. He not only kept the medium-weight design upright and moving forward, but returned fire as well as his LB-10X autocannon spat a stream of shells into the Highlander's chest, half of which were detonated by Twilight's shield before the instability of the hastily-designed spell allowed the rest through to blast armor away. Artemis-guided LRMs came next, and while they all either missed or blasted themselves into smithereens on the magical defense, the laser that followed them up poured the entirety of its firepower into the left arm of McKenna's 'mech.

The exchange finished quickly, but it was not the end of troubles for the two riding in the Highlander, as more missiles poured in from the other 'mechs cresting the ridge, followed by lasers and PPCs. The feedback from the spell ripped hard into Twilight's mind, and she had to bite down on her lip hard enough to draw blood just to keep from screaming in pain, while the 'mech shook around her from the impacts of the weaponry that got through her shield. A swaying motion different from the feeling of the 'mech's footfalls started to make her queasy as well, and Sparkle opened her eyes to see the world outside shifting radically, while James twisted madly in his seat to correct and guide the war machine's computers as they struggled to keep it upright. Sadly, it was not enough, and the ground appeared to rise up towards the cockpit as the 90-tonne BattleMech fell.

The impact shook Twilight like a ragdoll, and only the extensive harness that kept her in place kept her from slamming her head into one of the cockpit's consoles. She was still knocked for a loop, though, and the shield around the 'mech dropped as she briefly faded in and out of consciousness. But soon enough a voice sounded over the radio and snapped her out of her daze.

“—All targeting you! Dammit, Jim, get that hunk of slag up and get going!” Rebecca's voice sounded. No reply was forthcoming, however, and Twilight glanced over to see that James had also taken the fall hard, and was still trying to shake his head clear. The sounds of impacts on the Highlander's vulnerable rear armor started to sound even more alarms in the cockpit, and mortal fear spiked through the pony as she realized that they didn't have time for McKenna to regain his wits.

No, Twilight Sparkle thought, as her mind seemed to work without conscious direction. Not here, not now, was the last thought as a surge of energy she had only felt once before raced through her body and into her horn, while her eyes started to glow white.

The light show snapped James out of his stupor, and he glanced over to see this frightening visage just before a flash of light blinded him.

* * * *

Garth O'Connell sneered as he fired his Battlemaster's PPC and medium lasers towards McKenna's Highlander, his fire joining the others from his battalion as he had ordered the enemy commander a priority target. “Die! Die you mother fucking son of a bitch!” he screamed, nearly incoherent with rage. How dare you ambush me! How dare you stand against me!

A brilliant light enveloped the Highlander just as some of the first shots of the latest salvoes started to land and quickly and temporarily blinded everyone looking in its direction. O'Connell, though, grinned savagely as his eyes recovered. Hah! We must've gotten his reactor or an ammo... rack... His thoughts trailed to nothing, as that was exactly what he saw when he looked at the former location of McKenna's ride, and found it empty of any indication the 'mech was ever there, save for the small depression where it had fallen and the shards of blasted armor lying around the area. “What the fuck? Where the Hell did he go!”

* * * *

James felt his head swim in a surprisingly familiar manner as the world around him reformed from the shards of insanity he had glimpsed after his brief blinding. He shook his head yet again in an effort to clear it, and then checked his HUD, only to be shocked as he saw that his cockpit's computers had apparently all been sent into simultaneous shutdown. Even as he looked over them, though, the first flickers of electronic life began to return, and James decided to let them reboot as he turned his head to check on his passenger.

Twilight Sparkle was still in her seat and looked unhurt, as far as the MechWarrior could tell. Her limbs dangled freely from the harness as gravity pulled them towards the cockpit's viewscreen, but she was breathing regularly. For a moment she looked unconscious, but soon enough an eyelid slowly opened to reveal the purple iris and black pupil beneath. “Ow,” she muttered.

“Are you okay?” James asked. “What the Hell was that?”

“I... think I teleported us,” Twilight replied, as she started to stir. “We were on the ground, and they were all shooting at us, and I...” She shook her head as a powerful ache raged behind her horn. “I kinda just reacted on instinct.”

“Teleport?” James asked, warily. “That's what your teleports are like?”

“Well, no,” Twilight replied, as she again tried to clear her head with a shake. “But then, I've never took so much mass with me on a teleport before. I... Honestly, I'm surprised I could do it at all.”

A silence fell over the pair then, as Twilight waited for her body to recover a bit, and James contemplated the event. “Teleport,” Hell, he thought, as he turned his attention to the control computers and went through the manual portion of the reboot process. I've been to far too many star systems to not recognize a Jump when I go through one. But... how? He glanced over to the pony and gave her a brief, pensive look as she tried to shift into a more comfortable position. You're supposed to need a JumpShip at a Lagrange point if you want to Jump this close to a star. Sure, HPGs do it all the time, but all they do is send nearly massless photons through their hyperspace gates.

The HUD came back up just then, and James decided to push the mystery off for later. Gotta make sure we're not about to get slaughtered, first, he thought. His musings were cut short, however, as he saw that, instead of lying on a rocky, sparsely forested ridge wracked by war, the Highlander was now face down in an untouched, picturesque wood on flat ground. “Twilight,” he said, slowly, and then waited patiently for the unicorn to give him her full attention before he continued. “Where the Hell did you send us?”

Twilight Sparkle blinked her eyes a bit as she, too, was surprised at the outcome. “I... I think we're deeper into Whitetail Woods,” she cautiously replied. “I don't know where. Sweet heavens, how did I move us so far?”

“A question for later,” James promised. “Now, hold on while I get us back up,” he added, and then started to manipulate the controls at his disposal as he started the process of putting the Highlander back on its feet. It was slow, awkward going as he still only had the one arm to work the joysticks and hit commands on the DI computer console, but eventually he managed to get the machine upright once again.

“Ugh,” Twilight muttered, after the process was complete. “Swinging back and forth while this thing stands is not the best thing after overexerting your mana pool,” she said, tiredly.

“I'll take your word for it,” James evenly replied, and then reached out for his radio console. “This is Dark horse Actual to any person on this commnet, can anyone read me?”

“Jim!” Rebecca's voice sounded a moment later. “What the Hell happened? Where are you?”

“Long story, and I don't know,” James replied, with a wince as the after effects of the teleport/Jump still had his mind slightly rattled. “How's the unit?”

“We managed to fall back into the woods after your disappearing act,” Rebecca began. “I think the Desperadoes were more surprised then we were. We're moving to the fall back point beyond the Glitterfalls river as fast as we can, but the infantry are moving a bit slow with all the wounded.”

James took a moment to consider the brief report before he spoke again. “Good work. If you've got a moment, I'd like you to coordinate with Hermes and get a triangulation on me.”

“Already on it, Jim,” Schneider's voice chimed in. “The Beagle's chewing on it... and done,” he added, and then paused for a moment. “I don't know how it happened, but you're now approximately twelve kilometers south-southwest from your former position.”

James blinked in surprise, and then gave Twilight a look of admiration, to which she blushed. “Well, glad to know that,” the human said, and then sighed. “Alright, we'll head towards the rally point as well. Make sure our allies are kept appraised, and try to keep O'Connell's boys from catching up to you. This battle ain't over yet.”

Chapter 19 - River Showdown

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Patrol 624

61km East of Canterlot

September 27th AD 3070/1023RC

Two days, Palmetto thought, as she stared out from her hiding spot and down into the clearing only a hundred meters distant. Two days we've been following this lot just to see why the ponies and their alien allies have an entirely separate group from their main army. And all we do is watch them set up a bunch of boxes in the middle of a forest; this is what the best tracking squad in the hive cluster is reduced to?

She shook her head, as the thought of one of the elite—in her opinion—units of the changeling army sent to watch a bunch of campers made her head hurt. Still, orders are orders, she mused, and then resumed her observations. Such a simple camp they've set up; only a few rows of supplies in crates, some sort of gantry being erected, and not much else, not even tents. What the shell are they thinking?

The sound of something moving quickly through the brush hit her ears just then, and Palmetto felt her wings rise in an automatic threat response at the noise. She tore her gaze from the camp and looked down the tree she had perched in, and then into the forest behind her. Movement matching the noise caught her eye immediately, and she almost face-hoofed when she saw one of the newer members of the unit smashing his way through the undergrowth. Idiotic royal caste moron, she thought, even as she used a changeling's unusually strong magic grip to cling to and slink down the tree's trunk. Once on the ground, she dashed forward almost silently and intercepted the other changeling coming towards her and tackled him to the ground. “Are you trying to get us caught?” Palmetto hissed, straight into his face.

The being that looked back at her was not like most changelings; whereas Palmetto was a fairly standard example of the worker caste—nearly indistinguishable from one another to outsiders—the larger male she kept pinned to the ground with her forelegs had a defined pupil and iris, green and catlike. He was also larger, and wore a chagrined expression. “Sorry, subcommander,” he said, his voice having a different level of sibilance to it. “But we just received orders from a runner!”

“Keep your voice down,” Palmetto ordered, though she also stepped back and allowed the male to regain his footing. Idiot though he is, these must be good orders if he's excited, she thought, as she waited for the royal to stand. “Well?” she demanded, once he was erect.

The male came to attention, and then spoke: “Her Highness Queen Chrysalis has ordered us to attack the pony forces in order to destabilize their fight against the alien invaders,” he said, clear and with precise enunciation. “To that end we are to engage at your discretion, subcommander.”

Palmetto blinked at that, stunned by the decision. Then her shock turned to anticipation, and a smirk crossed her muzzle. Ooh, these are good orders. “Good to hear. Go back and rally the rest of the unit and bring them here; we'll charge the soft-shelled meatsacks with shock tactics.”

The other changeling saluted at that; a gesture identical to that used by the Ponies' Royal Guard. “Yes, subcommander,” he replied, and then turned and promptly ran back towards the unit's bivouac.

At least he takes orders well, Palmetto mused, as she turned and walked back to the tree she had been using as a perch. Surprising, given who his mother is. She then turned her head to look out over the nearby encampment and smiled. Time to avenge our loss and make the weak ponies and their alien allies learn to fear us.

* * * *

Allied Forward Base, Whitetail Woods

Applejack sighed with relief as she felt the load lifted from her back. “Whew, that stuff is purty darn heavy,” she commented, with a glance to the two humans who'd taken the hefty crate off of her. “What's in that thing, anyway?”

The two astechs grunted as they lowered the box to the ground, and then stood erect again. “Actuator parts,” one answered, as he pressed his hands against his back. “In case we gotta rebuild or refit one real quick.”

The mare raised an eyebrow. “Ah got no idea what the hay that means,” she replied. “But Ah'll take yer word for it.”

The two men shared a chuckle. “Fair enough,” the second one said. “Anyway, we got this, so you might wanna see what ol' Steeljaw might want your help on next.”

Applejack nodded. “Well that sounds good. Be seeing y'all,” she said, and then turned and trotted off towards where the cantankerous master tech was overseeing the setup of a gantry of some sort. She took a look around the clearing as she walked, and noted with pride that all of the equipment the humans had wanted hauled and been delivered and set up with a speed that only earth ponies could manage. It's nice to be the ones surprising them for a change, she thought, a she recalled the amazement that the human support crew had expressed upon seeing the sheer industry of the earth pony guards and volunteers as they moved the material for the temporary camp. It's nice to be appreciated, that's for sure, Applejack mused, though she forced her mind to focus on the task at hoof as she approached her destination.

McCoy was standing next to one of his assistants, and the two were staring up at the portable gantry even as a combination crew of humans and ponies worked to assemble the structure. They would look at the noteputers in their hands while they watched, and then occasionally shout orders to some of the crew. It was right after one of these bellowed commands that Applejack approached, and McCoy took notice of and turned towards her. “Done already?” he asked, gruffly, although Applejack was starting to understand the elder human a bit more, and thought she detected a tone of admiration in his voice.

“Yup, got everythin' arranged like ya wanted,” the mare replied. “Dunno why you're bein' so particular 'bout it.”

“It'll be easier to grab things this way,” the assistant—Gerald something, Applejack recalled—explained. “The layout is according to likely need and difficulty of movement so that hopefully we'll maintain a nice, fast turnaround time without causing any backups in the logistical chain.”

Applejack tilted her head and gave the human a look. “So, you're sayin' that it's all laid out so that y'all can grab th' stuff that y'all need according ta how fast and often you're gonna go through it all so y'all ain't trippin' over each other, eh?” she asked.

Gerald blinked hard at that, and McCoy chortled. “Don't git that look, lad,” the latter said, as he turned back to the gantry work. “Just because she's a farmer doesn't mean she's an idiot.”

“Er, right,” Gerald said, as he blushed. “Yes, miss Applejack, that's pretty much it.”

“Well, good ta know all that work ain't goin' ta waste,” Applejack observed. A slight grin graced her muzzle at having caught the astech out, as well. Her grin faded, though, as both men before her seemed to freeze and brought their hands up to the ear pieces they wore. “Uh, somethin' th' matter, boys?” she asked, as her stomach started to twist in worry.

Sadly, her suspicion of trouble proved accurate as McCoy belted out a curse. “Damnation and Hellfire,” he said, and then looked over to the orange mare. “Lass, what th' Hell are changelings?”

“Changelings?” Applejack echoed, as her voice cracked in a rare display of surprise.

“Changelings!” another voice shouted, from off in the distance. Applejack, McCoy, and Gerald all spun around towards the shout in time to see a wave of black, vaguely pony-shaped figures rushing out from the treeline to the north, flying in on insectoid wings. The farm mare's eyes widened at the sight, but it was all she had time to do before the lightning-fast attackers were already falling upon the encampment. The first ponies and humans fell in seconds as changelings hacked at them with axes or pierced them with spears, but the attackers did not stop to finish the job as they raced forward, intent on engaging new targets.

Applejack found herself one such target, as one of the changelings spied her and immediately turned to race for her, its axe held high in its hooves. Fortunately for the farmer she broke out of her shock, and then quickly dropped to the ground and rolled to the side, barely avoiding the axe head as it embedded in the ground.

The changeling hissed in anger and frustration at that and quickly yanked the weapon free while it hovered in the air, and then turned to face her. Barely had it did, though, when a report sounded and its chest exploded outward in a shower of black and green-tinted material. The now lifeless body fell to the ground, revealing McCoy standing behind it with his pistol drawn. “Come an' get it ye bastards!” he shouted, even as he took aim at another charging changeling and squeezed off a shot. That assailant, too, fell, but was followed by three more, one of whom managed to get close enough to jam his spear tip into the old man's side. McCoy yelled in pain as he staggered back and off of the medieval weapon, while behind him Gerald managed to get off a shot of his own before he was cut down by the other two changelings, although one of his attackers was left with a bleeding hole in its shoulder.

Such terrible carnage in so swift a time flummoxed Applejack for a moment as her mind struggled to put together, but the pained shouts from the nearby humans quickly broke her out of her funk. It also spurred her mind and body into action, and she raced off towards the changeling who had stabbed McCoy as it was rearing up to plunge its spear into the human's chest to finish him off. No, she thought, as the sudden, instinctual understanding of life and death filled her mind. She didn't think, but knew that she was the only hope for McCoy to live. Thus as she reached the changeling that was her target, she stopped, spun in place on her front hooves, and then coiled her back legs up. She hung there for the briefest of moments as all the unconscious and conscious restrictions she put upon her strength evaporated, and she willed every ounce of physical and magical energy she had into her rear legs as they kicked out faster than the eye could see. A scream of pain and the sound of chitin shattering followed an instant later, and matched up with the sensation of impact ringing in her rear hooves.

Even as this happened, McCoy's pistol spoke twice more, and the noise broke the odd sort of trance that had come over Applejack. She turned back around to see that he hadn't aimed for the changeling she had assaulted, though, as that being was lying on the ground, its front half writhing in pain while its bottom remained limp below the dual craters on its shelled back, both of which were leaking neon green fluid. Instead the tech had aimed for and dispatched the two changelings who had taken Gerald down, and now themselves lied on the ground with gaping chest wounds.

Applejack blanched at the sight of both her and McCoy's handiwork, but she didn't have time to think about it before something rammed her in the side and sent her tumbling along the ground. Her trip was cut short when she slammed into a supply crate, though, and the mare collapsed to the ground as the impact knocked the wind out of her. The sound of buzzing wings filled the air around her as Applejack lied gasping for breath, adding to the cacophony of battle. Gotta get up, gotta move, she told herself, even as she struggled to gather her legs beneath her.

Her thoughts and struggles were interrupted, though, as a hard hoof clutched around her right shoulder, and then wrenched the mare onto her back. Still in shock, Applejack was hapless as she looked up into the smug, grinning face of a changeling. “Well well well, seems I'll get to have revenge for our humiliation in Canterlot today,” it said, sounding distinctly feminine.

A scowl laid over Applejack's face at that, and she managed to find her voice. “Go t' Tartarus,” she retorted, and then butted her head into the changeling's. The resounding smack echoed around them, and the impact stunned both combatants, though Applejack was prepared for the pain, and she managed to clamber back up on her hooves before the female changeling.

Even as she stood up, though, the mare saw that even more of the chitin-covered foes had gathered around her and her assailant. Spears and axes were hefted in the Apple's direction and caused her to freeze long enough for the changeling she had headbutted to stand up. “You're going to pay for that,” she hissed, as she used her sickly green magic to draw a sword out from a scabbard on a belt she wore around her waist, and then lifted it up to prepare for a chopping motion.

She never got to use her weapon, though, as three things happened very, very quickly. First, a sound like a cross between thunder and the planet splitting in two filled the air, and not even a millisecond later a burning fireball blasted through the sword-wielding changeling and three of her cohorts that happened to be along the same angle of attack. And another millisecond after that their bodies exploded into clouds of superheated steam and innards, while a physical shockwave from the fireball's passing knocked down changeling and pony alike.

Applejack's ears ached and rang from the noise of the odd projectile as she lied on the ground once again, and she found she couldn't focus through the haze that had fallen over her mind. All she could do was look up as a humanoid shape landed nearby on jets of silver flame, and then fired its blocky weapon. The same thunderclap and horrendous fireball from a moment ago filled the air, though all Applejack heard was a dull thud through the pain in her ears. She did flinch, though, as the light of the gauss rifle's shot made a nearly physical assault on her retinas, and when she opened her eyes again she saw the armor-clad figure standing over her. The rounded helmet moved a bit, and Applejack figured she was talking, but the farm mare couldn't hear anything other than a few random, low noises and blood pounding through her veins.

I think that's April, the farmer mused, as she watched the figure turn away from her and then rush off. Some of her wits began to return, enough to remind her that she should take a look around her. Thus she worked a foreleg under her torso and then used the leverage to prop her head up and take a long look over the camp.

The carnage of the changeling attack was more than apparent, as pony and human bodies lay on the ground at several points, with pools of red spreading out from gaping melee wounds. But still more changeling bodies littered the ground, some killed by the camp denizens defending themselves, and a large number fallen, and still falling, to the six large figures of the Dark Horse's armored infantry unit, the Blackfoot. April in her rounded, almost plain-looking suit of Gray Death Scout armor was hopping around the battlefield on fiery jump jets, firing her Thunderstroke gauss rifle into clusters of changelings wherever they tried to rally. Another, larger, ground-bound version of that rounded armor was stalking forward, its Bearhunter autocannon spitting out death as its wearer moved at an almost casual pace, seemingly no more concerned than a farmer reaping wheat. Two other figures in the boxy, relatively plain armor design known simply as “Inner Sphere Standard” flanked the brutal behemoth, firing their support-grade lasers into any changeling who tried to throw up a defensive magic shield. The coherent light contained far more energy than a typical individual could deflect, and these foolish attackers were vaporized or exploded as the coruscating beams lanced through their defenses.

Finally the two Kage troopers, clad in their medieval Japan-themed winged armor, had just returned from the front line. Though they still only had TAG sets in place of their suits' normal weapons, even their light armor was more than enough to stand up to primitive melee weapons, while the myomer muscles that powered their suits made their metal-clad fists into deadly, skull-crushing weapons. These attributes they used brutal effect, jumping across the field just long and high enough for the partial wings on their armors' backs to deploy and further enhance their menacing visage as predatory beings before they landed to smash a shapeshifter's brains in.

Applejack watched this play out with a growing sense of discomfort, and she tore her eyes away from the scene of the battle to look over at McCoy. The elder human had survived, apparently ignored by the changelings after his pistol had jammed and Applejack had provided more significant resistance. Now, though, she saw him crawl over to Gerald's body and check it for vitals. The old man deflated a bit upon seeing the lifeless state of his assistant, but only a second later seemed to draw from an inner well of strength and straightened up a bit, or as much as he could while still crawling. He then shuffled his body around and started to make his way over to Applejack, who watched with a dreamy detachment.

I do feel a mite tired, the apple farmer mused, and then shifted her body to lie down on the grass again. Maybe I can take a few winks—

A slap across her muzzle startled Applejack out of her descent into unconsciousness, and she looked up to see McCoy staring down at her with a hard look. “Don't ye go tae sleep on me now, lass!” he yelled, or seemed to, as the world was still muffled and dense. Applejack slowly blinked at him, but the urgency in his words kept her hanging onto wakefulness. I guess I can't rest yet, she idly mused.

* * * *

Over the battlefield

“Shit on a sandwich!” said “Eddie” Rodriguez, as he threw his Stuka into a hard left before he dropped into dive. The maneuvers threw off the F-700 Riever on his tail a bit, but the faster, more maneuverable flying wing design was already working to slip back on his tail. “A little help here would be nice, Hothead!” he added, trusting the microphone in his helmet to pick up and transmit the sentence to his wingmate.

“Get in line,” Melissa McKenna retorted, even as she pushed her own dagger-like heavy fighter through a twisting, turning climb. Behind her was the other Riever, which kept pace with her turns effectively, but its pilot seemed to be a poor shot as his attacks were few and tended to miss. Praise God for small miracles, she briefly mused, before she abruptly reversed her turn and cut her engine. The 100-tonne Stuka was more aerodynamic than the proverbial brick, but not by much, and so the sudden lack of thrust caused it to drop belly first a few dozen meters before Melissa pushed the throttle open again. The result of this stomach-wrenching maneuver was that the Dark Horse fighter had fallen below and behind the enemy Riever, making the hunted the hunter.

Or so it would be, if the two Desperado Lucifers didn't take that moment to lay into Melissa's craft with their Long-Range Missiles. The two medium fighters had backed off with the arrival of their allies, and were now playing standoff support by launching attacks at the Dark Horse fighters whenever they had a clear shot. Such an opportunity now presented itself as Melissa slotted in behind her foe, and two clouds of missiles slammed into her fighter's aft and wing armor, blasting more of the dwindling protection away. “Goddammit!”

“I don't know what that means, but it doesn't sound good!” came the voice of her passenger, the pegasus Trade Wind.

Melissa didn't reply, as she was far too engrossed in wrenching the Stuka to the right to get out of the enemy's target lock, and then promptly shoved it into a diving reverse turn. How about you fuckers get a taste of your own medicine? she mused, as she brought the nose around to face the two Lucifers in the distance and then fired her fighter's extended-range large lasers. The hurried nature of the shot showed in that only one laser hit the well-armored nose of one of the medium-weight fighters, but it was enough to startle the two pilots, who threw their ships into a series of evasive maneuvers.

“Hothead!” sounded Rodriguez's voice, and Melissa immediately hammered her throttle wide open for a moment in a near-instinctual reaction to the one-word warning. As a result the Riever she'd been dogfighting missed with its massive autocannon, though a few of the two-dozen short-ranged missiles managed to pepper her fighter's hull.

We can't keep doing this, Melissa realized, even as she hammered her controls back and forth to send the Stuka slewing all over the sky. They outnumber us and outflank us so that we have to constantly maneuver to avoid fire, and you can only fly like that for so long before you make a mistake. However strong her pride was, Melissa was well aware of her own humanity. Thus she triggered her radio after putting her fighter through a loop. “Eddie, we need a way out of this chicken shit outfit,” she called to her wingmate.

Rodriguez recognized the joke, and more importantly the meaning behind it. “You're your father's daughter,” he sardonically replied, even as Melissa saw him throw his fighter in a hard turn to avoid enemy fire. “We charge 'em?” he asked. “Or try a canyon run?”

“I was thinking a run for the Kármán Line,” Melissa answered, and then pressed the Stuka's nose down into a dive. She then immediately flipped into a positive-G turn to the right and avoided laser fire from one of the enemy Lucifers. All through this period of several seconds, her wingmate had remained silent, and a wave of fear washed over her heart. “Eddie?” she asked.

“In a Stuka? Are you fucking insane!” Rodriguez finally shouted back, while he pulled an Immelmann. “We'd be sitting ducks!”

“We're almost that anyway!” Melissa countered, while she pushed her craft around to follow Rodriguez. The move scared off the Riever on his tail, but it opened her up to incoming missile fire from the two Lucifers once again, and more missiles peppered her starboard wing. “We're getting nickel and dimed to death and you know it. At least let's try to get a better position on them!”

“...Fuck me,” Rodriguez replied, and then sighed. “Alright, you call it.”

“Excuse me,” Trade Wind spoke up from the back, and into the common channel. “But what the hay are you two talking about?”

Melissa grunted as she forced her Stuka to tilt as if she was going to turn left, and then abruptly rolled and pulled right, just in time to avoid another wave of SRM fire. “Let's just say, TW, that you and Downburst are about to go where no pony has gone before,” she replied, and then flicked a few controls on her fighter's main console. “Now, Eddie!”

“Wait, what's going—” Trade Wind began, but was cut off as the Stuka pitched back abruptly and started to accelerate.

* * * *

“Sunovabitch!” sounded the frustrated voice of Carver's wingmate. “How the Hell can they move a Stuka like that?”

“Because they're not trying to shoot back much,” Carver calmly replied, even as he fired a half-locked SRM barrage at his target. Most missed, good, he mused, even as he silently reflected on the irony while he threw his Riever into a hard left turn in order to come around at the Dark Horse fighters again. “Don't worry, we'll either get them or drive them off soon; no one can keep doing maneuvers like that forever.” Sadly. Hopefully they'll run before then.

His silent prayer was answered far more quickly than he anticipated, as suddenly both of the Stukas pitched their noses up and then abruptly accelerated. Carver instinctively pulled his fighter's own nose up and to the left as he moved to anticipate whichever maneuver the enemy pilots might use, and his wingmate quickly copied it as he pulled in close to keep his flight leader covered. He watched his HUD warily as he guided the Riever around in a loose circle and waited to see what his opponents would pull, but to his surprise Carver could only see the two fighters accelerating straight up, their silvery fusion exhaust lengthening dramatically as the pilots shoved their throttles wide open. Are they... They can't be running for the Kármán Line, can they? he asked himself. That's a light-fighter tactic, and even then it's supposed to only be used in high atmo!

Didn't expect that, though, now did you? a voice murmured inside his head, and for a moment Zachary had to smile. I really hope you survive this fight, whoever you are, because it takes balls to pull something like that. “Looks like they're running for the K-line, Jurgen,” he spoke, his radio triggered to send voice to his wingmate. “We've got better engines, so let's curve around and—”

“Hah!” came a new voice, which Carver recognized as belonging to Samantha Leblanc. “Finally got them to run! After them!” Even as she said this, Zachary saw the classic tube-and-wings body of her Lucifer fighter suddenly leap forward from the holding pattern she had been in. Her wingmate followed only a moment later and soon both were pushing their engines to match that of the Stukas as the Desperado fighters raced after their quarry. “We'll teach 'em a lesson!”

“Dammit, Leblanc!” Carver shouted. “You can't outpace a Stuka,” he added, while he turned his Riever around to follow after the lighter fightercraft. Even as he spoke, however, the two Lucifers were already pitching back to go vertical and chase after their quarry. “Turn back and support the ground troops.”

“No way,” Leblanc countered. “These bastards have been a thorn in our side for too long, and I'm going to get my pound of flesh for them killing Remus!”

Carver frowned at the image of Leblanc's fighter in his HUD. “Don't be an idiot, Leblanc,” he replied. “We need to fight as a unit.”

“Up yours, backwater,” Leblanc retorted. She used a common insult for Periphery natives, and so Carver could only lean back in his seat in astonishment as she continued. “You might think you're all high-and-mighty with the heavier warbird, but I'm getting a kill today, and you can sit back and watch or help out!”

Carver heard a click as Leblanc cut her participation in the common channel, and then a second one as his wingmate chimed in. “Are you going to let her get away with that?” he asked, curiously.

A thought ran through Carver's head just then, and he could only smirk very slightly. “Ever hear the phrase 'let them have enough rope to hang themselves'?” he asked back. “She wants to chase that badly, then she can do the heavy lifting. We'll let them distract the Stukas and then clean up while they're busy nailing our friends in the mediums.”

A dark chuckle met his words, and Carver felt a slight sense of revulsion. Willing to let their allies step in it just out of spite, he thought, even as he pulled his fighter's nose up. I suppose that's a bit hypocritical coming from me, but turnabout is fair play, after all. He suppressed a sigh at that. I should have never signed up with this chicken shit outfit; I just hope I can live long enough to fix that mistake.

* * * *

“Aaaaaauuuuuuuugggghhhh!” Trade Wind screamed, as he felt his body pressed down and into his seat at over four gravities. Although some might consider it rude, he felt the volume was necessary to make his displeasure heard over the shaking, rumbling roar of a fusion rocket at full power.

“Yeee-haaww!” Melissa shouted back, not even bothering with the radio and/or intercom. “There's nothing like the old ways, are there TW?” she asked, even as she eyed the altimeter readout on her HUD. Only forty-five klicks? Damn, got a bit to go. “Really makes you appreciate what the first pioneers had to go through when they strapped themselves into those primitive chemical rockets.”

“I don't care!” Trade Wind shouted back. “What the hay is going on?”

“Take a look out the canopy and find out,” Melissa simply replied, and then returned her attention to the holographic HUD. As in a BattleMech, a full 360-degree view was compressed into a 120-degree arc in front of her. But where a BattleMech only did this for only two dimensions, a fighter pilot needed to deal with three, and so instead of the band MechWarriors enjoyed, Melissa had to scan a bowl of compressed visual data; a technique that took time, even with her extensive academy training. Even so, she spared a moment to smile as she heard Trade Wind gasp. “Enjoying the view?” she asked, without bothering to look out at it herself. Seen it before, she mused.

“It's... beautiful,” Trade Wind said, barely loud enough to be heard above the constant roar of the engine. Outside he saw a view that even pegasi never got to experience as he watched the world below retreat away from him, the geographical features becoming smaller even as the horizon in the distance began to curve downwards ever so slightly. The world really is round, he mused, briefly, too flabbergasted by the view to care about the acceleration that still made it feel as if two earth pony guards in full armor kit were sitting on him. My teachers always said it was round, but actually seeing it... He would have shaken his head at that, but he was far too fascinated by the view above as the sky slowly darkened. It appeared as if the sun was setting, but he knew the sun was still there, though, as he had to avoid looking at it lest it blind him. Trade barely comprehended it and could only watch in awe as the stars began to appear at midday.

Sadly, his observations were interrupted by the wailing of an alarm. “What is that?” he asked, even as he strained to turn his head around so he could face forward again.

“A couple of our friends were stupid enough to take the bait,” Melissa replied, with a note of surprise in her voice. “Mother of Pi, I was just hoping for us to break contact and get some distance, not actually get the idjits to follow us!”

Trade Wind could only blink at that. “I have no idea what you're talking about,” he responded.

“You will,” Melissa promised, and then trigger the fighter's radio. “You see what I see, Eddie?”

“If you mean the two turkeys waiting to be stuffed, then yes,” her wingmate replied. “How the Hell did those two get certified for a fighter?”

“Probably the FedCom Civil War,” Melissa offered, offhandedly. Her tone remained calm and dismissive, even as the warning tone came again and this time it was followed by the Stuka shaking as a cluster of LRMs impacted its hull. “You know how both sides were throwing anyone they could find into the fight, no matter how half-assed their training was.”

“How can you two be so calm?” Downburst's voice asked, and Trade Wind found himself silently echoing the question. “You have us flying straight up and I can barely breathe and now you say two of them are still chasing us and I'm pretty sure one of them shot us so why are you so calm?”

A chuckle was Melissa's initial reply. “Oh you'll see in a moment, my little pony,” she added, in a cheeky tone.

Trade Wind frowned at that, and he let his displeasure enter his tone; or rather, as much as he could while being pressed back. “Only the princesses get to say that phrase to us,” he responded.

“Well,” Melissa began. “Considering I'm the pilot of this crate you're riding in, that makes me your own personal goddess so long as we're flying,” she explained, arrogantly. “So I outrank your princesses and that means I get to use that phrase.”

“You're daft,” Trade Wind retorted, half in defiance, half in growing unease. Dear Heavens, she really is daft, isn't she?

His silent question went temporarily answered as Melissa spoke up again, triggering the radio as she did. “Alright, Eddie, we're almost there,” she began. “Cut thrust and one-eighty on my mark.”

“You sure?” Rodriguez asked back. “We're only coming up on twenty klicks to the K-line.”

“The air's thin enough, and we don't want our tails to get too many shots at our backsides,” Melissa replied. Her words were emphasized as another wave of long-range missiles ripped into the Stuka's wing's armor. Can't take too much more of this, she thought, the worried tone of her internal monologue a contrast to her affected nonchalance. Thus impelled, she quickly reached towards her main command console and set her fighter's control mechanisms from atmosphere to space. Yes, computer, I know that we still have some air around us, she mentally griped at the system. Finally, she took a glance outside her cockpit to look around. Melissa spied the two glowing plasma tails of the chasing Lucifers not far behind her, and some distance after them were the two Rievers making a more indirect and cautious ascent. They're the ones who should be pursuing us with their better engines, she thought, but then pushed all musings out of her mind as she saw the altimeter reach ninety-five kilometers. “Now, Eddie!” she shouted, even as she cut her engines and then yanked hard on her controls.

Her Stuka acted instantly, as the thrusters in her fighter's nose and tail responded to the stick and rudder controls in a carefully pre-programmed manner designed to make the result of specific control movements the same in space as they worked in atmosphere. Thus Melissa didn't even have to think about thrust vectors but instead could concentrate on her HUD as the world spun around her back-flipping fighter. The thin air attempted to restrain the heavy fighter, but only succeeded in shaking the craft a bit as Melissa brought her targeting reticle over the nose of the leading Lucifer. “Surprise, motherfucker,” she muttered, as she pulled her triggers.

The LRM rack was the first to fire, and it sent a score of missiles from its mounted position on the back and middle of the upper hull to soar right over the cockpit of the Stuka before the Artemis-guided munitions homed in on their target to bathe the entire front of the Lucifer in blossoms of fire. The extended-range large lasers fired next, and sadly two missed to send their energy to auger into some unlucky patch of ground many kilometers below. The other two that hit, however, slagged armor right on the medium fighter's nose and hull, denuding even more protection from the craft. Finally, in the time it had taken to cut engines and spin the enemy Lucifers had closed the range, and so now Melissa could add in her medium-grade pule lasers, both of which slagged a good amount of armor from the Lucifer's nose.

The enemy wasn't put down, though, and thus fired back. The Lucifer's own 20-tube missile rack spat out a cloud of destructive projectiles, though without the Artemis IV fire-control system of the Dark Horse craft a majority of them lost lock thanks to the Stuka's native electronic warfare systems. A good amount still hit, though, but only impacted on the Stuka's well-armored front, barely blasting any armor off at all. The twined large lasers in the enemy's nose fired next, and a pair of coruscating energy streams reached out to tear at the pits made by the LRMs, but again did little but slag armor. Finally the range was close enough that the small lasers in the Lucifer's wings flashed their beams, though only one of them actually hit to little effect, slagging armor on the Stuka's starboard wing.

Melissa took note and could only smirk. This thing was made to attack WarShips head-on, your weapons won't do much, she silently taunted the enemy, even as she fought the buffeting of the high-altitude winds with her stick, and the nauseating feeling of sudden microgravity in her stomach. Fortunately the momentum from the hard burn was still carrying her fighter upwards, and so she kept the nose pointed towards her foe. A part of Melissa's mind noted the exchange of weapons fire between her wingmate and the other Lucifer, though, and then further noted when both of the enemy craft suddenly peeled away, their pilots' confidence presumably shaken. So much so that they're still not using exo controls, she noted. Melissa made a new decision at that moment, and then triggered her radio. “Eddie, keep coasting and concentrate on your target,” she ordered, even as she adjusted her fighter's attitude in order to point her weapons at her new quarry.

“Copy, engaging!” Rodriguez replied, and then fired. Melissa did likewise and her missiles and large lasers joined in with her wingmate's to lash at the retreating Lucifer's underbelly, which remained exposed as the ineffective atmosphere controls barely managed to turn the craft in the thin air. Armor peeled off in great sheets and torrents of slag before one of the large lasers in the volley blasted past the protection and dug deep into the supporting structure to find the fighter's missile bin. The resulting ammunition explosion ripped the Lucifer apart in a fraction of a second, and the blastwave battered all three of the surviving fighters in the area.

Finally nailed one, Melissa briefly thought, as she worked to regain control of her fighter. A quick glance to the HUD showed that Rodriguez was doing the same alongside her, while the remaining Lucifer pilot was cleverly using the sudden instability to sling the fighter's nose around faster than normal. Then the engines flared and began to drive the medium craft away at an escape vector. Lost all your appetite, eh? “Wanna chase the turkey, Eddie?” Melissa asked, as she turned her Stuka around to aim for the fleeing fighter.

“How about we worry about those Rievers coming up to meet us?” Rodriguez countered.

A glance to the side of the HUD showed Melissa exactly what he meant, and she grimaced. They're getting close; I almost made the same damn mistake as those Lucifer pilots, she chastised herself. They warned us at the academy about getting the blood up. “Copy that, Eddie. Let's play chicken and blast through their formation,” she ordered, even as the idea rolled through her mind. “We'll try to lure them away from the fight and then break contact since we're getting close to bingo fuel.”

“Copy, wilco,” Rodriguez replied, even as both he and Melissa fired up their engines again, this time to make another rapid descent.

“What the hay does 'play chicken' mean?” Trade Wind asked, from where he was still reeling from the strange, backward-flying, upwards-moving fight he had just witnessed. And we're still going backwards straight up! But why do I feel like we're falling?

“You fly towards each other head-on,” Melissa replied, even as she pushed her throttle forward. The Stuka responded instantly and Trade Wind felt the acceleration return, even as a great wash of silvery light filled the cockpit now that there was little air-refracted sunlight to compete with the fusion exhaust. “And the first one who turns away loses.”

Trade blinked, and he took a moment to think while the fighter he rode in arrested its momentum, and then began to fly back towards the ground below. “That has to be one of the stupidest things I've ever heard,” he stated.

“Hehe, yeah,” Melissa simply agreed. “Try not to scream again, it's distracting,” she added, and then returned her concentration to flying.

* * * *

“Where the Hell were you!” Leblanc shouted over the radio, and straight into Carver's ear.

“Flying like I actually went through academy training, you stupid cunt,” Carver heatedly retorted. “Now pull together whatever professionalism you have left and tell me your status!”

To her limited credit, Leblanc spoke up after only a moment’s hesitation. “Armor’s denuded fifty to seventy percent across all major arcs, ammo’s down by a third, and I’ve got two pissed-off Stukas on my tail!”

“Not for long,” Carver replied, as he angled his Riever towards the descending heavy fighters. “Head back and give support to the ground-pounders; we’ll handle the Stukas.”

Leblanc muttered some kind of acknowledgment, but Carver had already mentally tuned her out. Instead he concentrated on the approaching Dark Horse craft and turned his radio to the channel he shared with his wingmate. “We make one head-on pass, Jurgen, and then we pull around and tail them,” he ordered.

“Yes sir,” his wingmate replied. “Full alpha-strike?”

“Yes,” Carver answered, even though he felt a twinge of guilt at it. I can't help it, I have to at least fake it, he thought. “Now tuck in; here they come,” he added, as he saw the icons grow on the HUD. Both of the Dark Horse fighters were screaming in on a head-on course straight for the Rievers. Smart move, Zachary thought, even as he pushed his throttle forward to meet the implied challenge from his opponents. They can't beat us in a turning fight so they're going for the boom-and-zoom.

All conscious thoughts in Carver's mind then ceased as the distance rapidly closed. Threat warnings both visual and auditory erupted into life as the incoming Stukas locked on with their weapons. Carver reciprocated immediately, and then held his breath as the two groups of heavy fighters raced for each other at trans-sonic speeds.

Then the targeting pip on the HUD flashed, and Carver's trained reactions took over. He squeezed the triggers on his weapons and let loose a full barrage at the lead Stuka, starting with the massive class-20 autocannon mounted directly under his cockpit. His fighter shook violently as hundreds of kilograms of autocannon shells raced outwards and, to his relief, missed the Dark Horse fighter. Next were his missiles, both long- and short-range, and fully half of these also missed their targets, and what did hit scattered their explosive payloads across the front of the targeted fightercraft; only armor sheared off in their wake.

The return fire from the Stuka, though, was punishing. LRMs blotted out his vision briefly as they erupted all across the nose and wings of Carver’s Riever, and the lasers mounted on the assault craft burned off nearly two tonnes of protection along the leading edge of the flying wing. Zachary had to fight his stick to keep the inherently unstable craft from pitching out of control, and during that time the two groups of fighters had passed each other.

“Yeah!” Carver heard his wingmate yell over the channel they shared. A glance to HUD and its compressed image quickly showed Carver the reason why: the Stuka Poole had faced off was heading almost straight down, its cockpit a glaring, burning hole. “Nailed that fucker with the BFG!”

So that’s what happened, Carver realized, and then suppressed a sigh. Ferroglass is resilient, but it won’t stand up to a lucky shot from a cannon that can rip smaller fighters in half. “Good work, Jurgen,” he forced himself to say, despite the regret that filled his soul. “Form up on me and we’ll try and chase the other one down.” And I hope that surviving pilot knows what he’s doing.

* * * *

“Downburst!” Trade Wind shouted, as he watched the dead fighter drop out of the sky.

“Eddie,” Melissa whispered, and then shook her head briefly. “Goddammit!” she shouted, and then pushed the nose of her fighter down.

The sudden shift in pitch brought Trade Wind out of his shock, and he turned to look at the back of Melissa’s neurohelmet. “What are you doing?” he asked, still half in a daze.

“Trying to lose them in the ground clutter,” Melissa replied, and Trade Wind felt a shiver run down his spine as he noted the complete lack of emotion in her voice. “They’ll be coming after us now, and two versus one is bad enough but they can also outmaneuver and out-speed us.”

The shiver along his spine shifted and became a cold, sudden chill in the pit of Trade’s stomach. “They’re going to kill us, aren’t they?” he asked.

“Maybe,” Melissa replied. “But if they do I’ll make damn sure they work for it first.”

Trade Wind had no reply for that. Instead he simply turned his head to look out of the back of the cockpit to see the two Rievers in the distance as they turned to pursue, and then looked forward again to see the ground still a very, very long way away. “Shit,” he said, softly.

* * * *

Whitetail Woods

“Shit!” Dorian Carmine yelled, as his 100-tonne Atlas was rocked by the combined laser fire from two surviving Phoenix Hawks. The humanoid 'Mechs looked for all the world like over-sized men in power armor, save for their ten-meter height, and the fact that the armored vambraces on their forearms contained multiple lasers and machine guns. Most of these weapons spat out their deadly energy and payload straight at the Dark Horse assault 'Mech and despite the shield projected by Carmine's passenger, much of the firepower got through to wither armor away on the 'Mech's chest and arms. “I don’t suppose you could turn up the juice a bit, Lyra?” Dorian heatedly asked of his passenger, though he never took his eyes off the HUD.

“I’m already stretching my mana reserves to the max with what you got now,” the mint-colored mare replied, from her position in the passenger seat to the left and behind the main combat couch. She then winced as another barrage of laser fire passed through her shield spell, which then sucked even more energy from her reserve and made her horn ache. “How about you try not getting shot?”

“Working on it, string-butt,” Carmine retorted, and used the nickname he had coined for the mare after meeting her for the first time. He then jerked the controls and slewed the broad-shouldered ‘Mech’s torso around to take a snap-shot at one of the Phoenix Hawks with his medium lasers, but only one hit and barely slagged some armor off of the foe’s left arm. Both of the enemy war machines then took their leave and retreated back through the trees to avoid any other return fire.

Isn’t this what we were supposed to be doing to them? Dorian asked himself, as he pulled back on the throttle to move his Atlas backwards, towards the retreating infantry column he was helping to protect. Weren’t we the ones supposed to do the hit-and run attacks to wear them down as they marched? Gotta hand it to the Desperadoes, they’ve certainly adapted. Though it’d be hard not to after the drubbing we gave them from the ridge.

A grumble came from his passenger, presumably due to the joke nickname. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” Lyra fired back at him, and though neither could look into each other’s faces at the moment, they knew they shared a brief smirk. “How much longer do we have to be this ‘ablative point-man’ thing you were talking about?”

“As long as we can, darling,” Carmine answered. He then fell silent as the Atlas’ computers painted another target, this one a Centurion, on the HUD. The warning was timely, as the 50-tonne humanoid ‘Mech dashed out from cover a second later and opened fire with the autocannon that made up its entire right forearm. The shells seemed to burst open as they approached the Atlas and their component parts slammed into the armor across the entire, broad front of the skull-headed assault ‘Mech, though Lyra’s shield managed to deflect half of the pellet spread.

LBX autocannon, Carmine automatically noted, even as he returned fire with his medium lasers and SRM rack. Neither medium laser managed to hit, but three of the six short-range missiles slammed into the side and arm of the enemy ‘Mech before id continued its run and disappeared back in the foliage. “Damn, didn’t think they’d have any upgrades,” Dorian muttered.

“What do you mean?” Lyra asked, even as the ‘Mech began to walk backwards again.

Dorian checked his HUD before he replied, and once he saw that it was clear he decided to indulge in the unicorn’s curiosity. “Most of the Desperadoes are using the older, more reliable, but less capable technology,” he explained, even as he checked a secondary MFD to check the map showing the position of various friendly units. “That ‘Mech that just nailed us, though, was an upgraded model using a cluster-munition autocannon. I’m just surprised they had one,” Dorian explained.

“Ah,” Lyra replied. The pair then fell quiet for a few moments, and only the rumble of the fusion engine and the reverberating footfalls of the assault ‘Mech were heard. “Is it me, or did it get quiet?” she asked, suddenly.

“It’s not you,” Dorian replied, and then checked his HUD again. I don’t like this, he thought, as his instincts started to scream at him. Dorian then reached out and flicked a control on his console to turn his radio back to voice-triggered. “Dark Horse Four calling Dark Horse Two, how’s the evac going?”

“Oh just peachy keen, Four,” Rebecca McKenna replied back, though the sardonic tone gave lie to the literal meaning of her words. “Why are you asking?”

“Because it just got quiet up here,” Dorian answered. “And I’ve been ambushed enough times to know when excrement is about to hit the rotational air distribution device.”

“Copy, Four. Give me a minute to talk to a few of the others,” Rebecca replied, and then fell silent as she switched channels.

Dorian glanced to his map readout again, and he gave it a longer look than before. The Dark Horse were spread out in a rough V-shape to protect the retreating column of Equestrian infantry, with the 100-tonne Atlas as the point aimed straight at the oncoming enemy forces. Not that I mind rear guard duty, but I’d prefer to be in something fast, Carmine thought. I guess the armor and weapons have really come in handy so far, but being in this position means I’m kind of far from help.

It was then that Rebecca’s voice sounded on the channel again. “Two calling Four, I spoke with Stonewall and he’s getting his boys to double-time it. You can go ahead and pull back at a full run; I’ll move forward and meet you on the way just in case.”

“Copy that, Two,” Dorian replied, with some relief in his tone. “On my way,” he added, and then reached over to flick the radio back to ‘trigger’ mode.

“I’m guessing that’s good news?” Lyra asked, while Dorian slowed the Atlas to a stop and then started it turning.

He did have a moment to spare a glance at a mirror he had affixed to a bare structural support, though, through which he could make eye contact with his passenger. He fought hard to suppress a grin at the adorable image of the unicorn in the oversized—for ponies—cooling vest she wore. “It is,” Dorian replied, and then turned his attention back to his controls so he could concentrate on piloting again. “It means we won’t be stuck out like a nail waiting to get hammered in anymore.”

It was then, of course, that excrement hit the rotational air distribution device. Alarms blared as six new contacts appeared on the HUD, and Carmine felt a ball of ice materialize in his stomach. “Oh shit,” he said, and then whipped the Atlas back around. Once reoriented, he looked out and through the canopy as four ‘mechs stepped out from behind copses of trees, and two soared in on jump jets.

In front of him were two of the contacts: the upgraded Centurion and a Wolfhound. For the briefest of moments Carmine was struck by the oddity of the two humanoid ‘Mechs, as without scale they almost seemed like men in costumes, or perhaps powered armor. The former with its distinctive head crest and visor-like canopy, and the latter with its pointed head and triangular sensor arrays particularly put Dorian in the mind of Halloween. The momentary illusion was broken, though, as both of the enemy machines raised their right arms, which for either design ended not with a hand but with a ‘Mech-grade heavy weapon.

Off to the left of Dorian’s Atlas, meanwhile, was a pair of Commandos, which like the one in the Dark Horse resembled foot troopers in standard armor, save for their immense size when compared to an actual human. Individually an Atlas could pound each of them into scrap, but combined into the trap that had sprung and outside of his main firing arcs meant that they were a real threat to Carmine, indeed.

Finally, the two surviving Phoenix Hawks had returned off to Dorian’s right and rear, landing on jets of ion flame as they used their superior mobility to finish the encirclement. The Dark Horse MechWarrior barely had a half second to let all of this information run through his mind before he acted. “Shield!” he yelled, and hoped Lyra would respond quickly enough, even as he settled his targeting crosshairs on the Centurion’s broad chest.

What happened next would be a blur to those involved, and only the review of BattleROMs after the fact would tell the truth, as every ‘Mech fired at almost the same moment. Dorian acted only slightly faster than the others, as he pulled the triggers on every weapon he had save the LRM rack. The gauss rifle in the Atlas’ torso hurtled its deadly payload forth at hypersonic speeds to slam into the armor directly over the enemy ‘Mech’s heart, smashing the last of the armor there into plasma and dust. The medium lasers mounted in the arms and head fired next as the computers cycled energy from the fusion reactor from one system to the other, and two missed to turn a pair of trees in the background into expanding clouds of water vapor and burning fiber. The third, though, managed to slag armor on the Centurion’s right torso and mangled the protective doors over its LRM launcher, but otherwise only worked to mar the formerly pristine surface. Then the six tubes of short-range missiles filled with fire as the homing weapons soared forth, and all but one managed to maintain a lock through the cloud of dueling electronic warfare systems to slam into the medium ‘Mech’s arms and torso armor. Finally, Dorian fired the Atlas’ sole rear-firing medium laser at one of the Phoenix Hawks using the compressed HUD in a desperate bid to hurt or distract them, but the hastily-aimed and half-attentive shot went wide.

The return fire was coming in even as the Dark Horse ‘Mech vented its fury, and Lyra only barely managed to ratchet up the shield’s power before the fusillade landed. The Centurion threw everything he had at the Atlas, including his LRMs. The close range, though, meant that the long-range weapons had little time to arm, and so they impotently splattered on Lyra’s shield and the Atlas’ armor, spreading miniature fireballs as their ammo and fuel loads went off not in a controlled manner that would penetrate any protection, but wildly and without focus. The autocannon, and medium laser, though, performed admirably, and the cluster munitions of the LBX that got through sanded armor off of the entire front of the Atlas, while the attenuated beam of the laser scored a deeper wound on an already damaged patch of armor on the Dark horse ‘Mech’s right arm.

The Wolfhound fired next, and its array of lasers filled the air with beam trails as they reached out to cut even more protection off of the assault ‘Mech’s legs and torso, and these were soon joined by the similar array of weapons mounted on the Phoenix Hawks which, due to their angle, managed to concentrate their destructive power on the right side of Dorian’s ‘Mech, and the weakened armor on the arm finally gave out just in time for some of the coherent light to tear apart the medium laser mounted in that arm.

The strain of so many impacts after all the stress of holding the shield up for so long finally got to Lyra then, and she yelped in pain as the spell finally overloaded her reserves, and only the fortuitous cut-out engineered into the spell’s logic kept the feedback from permanently injuring her. Sadly, though, this mean that the two Commandos had a free shot at the Dark Horse giant, and they sent their lasers and clouds of SRMs to savage the already blasted torso armor. The lasers gouged the armor deeply, and a score of the homing missiles slammed across the left arm and torso, blasting more protection away.

Unfortunately for Dorian, his luck had just run out; one SRM struck into one of the many laser-carved grooves in the Atlas’ armor, and its shaped-charge warhead spat a jet of plasmatic copper into and through the weakened protection. This act of random chance happened to occur right over the storage bins for the assault ‘Mech’s Long-Range Missiles, and the influx of heat and pressure was more than enough to set off the weapons’ warheads and propellant. Hell was unleashed within the Atlas’ left side and the explosions consumed and wrecked internal structure and mechanisms alike and set off the SRM ammo as well to add to the conflagration. Likely this would have continued on to ravage the rest of the ‘Mech, but James McKenna cared about the lives of his employees and had the Atlas retrofitted with Cellular Ammunition Storage Equipment; baffles and channels redirected the majority of the damage through blow-out panels in the back and saved the ‘Mech’s core from being annihilated by its own ammunition.

Not that Dorian really had time to consider this as the left torso disintegrated in a fragment-filled fireball and the Atlas’ left arm, bereft of support, dropped to the ground. The intense release of energy within the ‘Mech sent a massive, paralyzing wave of neuro-kinetic feedback through the ‘Mech’s internal systems and thence into Dorian’s neurohelmet. A scream ripped out of the human’s throat as his existence became nothing but pain for several long, agonizing seconds, and his vision darkened as his brain tried to shut down to avoid the pain. No… dammit… not… now! he managed to scream at himself over the pain, and through sheer force of will managed to stay awake. “Oh, fuck, my head,” he mumbled, even as he struggled to regain his wits.

“Dorian? Are you okay?” Lyra asked, and her voice helped the MechWarrior bring himself around. He blinked his eyes back into focus as he looked to see the wincing, frightened visage of the mint unicorn in the mirror. “What happened?”

Dorian glanced at the readouts in the cockpit, and then winced deeper than the one he had been wearing. “Ammo explosion,” he replied, and then pulled back on the throttle. The Atlas, though heavily damaged, responded perfectly as the infrastructure of the BattleMech allowed its many systems to immediately adapt and remain functional despite massive internal damage, and the war machine began to move backwards as fast as it could go in reverse. “Need shields, Lyra,” Dorian ground out, even as he shifted his gaze to the worsening situation on his HUD. Shit, it looks like more are coming and I haven’t even taken any of these bastards.

“I don’t know if I can,” Lyra responded morosely. “That last attack took a lot out of me.”

“Then just put it over the left side, at least,” Dorian suggested, as he saw the foes jockeying for another salvo. Both Commandos were running to circle around his back even as Phoenix Hawks kept pace with him and were slowly aiming their weapons for maximum accuracy. In front the Centurion and Wolfhound had spread out a bit to lessen the chance of Dorian splitting his fire to maybe take out both, and like the Phoenix Hawks they were concentrating more on aiming than movement. And, somewhere just beyond visual sight but easily discernible to his sensors, a lance of Griffin support ‘Mechs were assembling. No doubt they’re getting ready to rain LRMs on us, Carmine mused. “Now!” he shouted, as lock-on warnings warbled in the cockpit.

Lyra grimaced at the shout and warning tones. We must be in deep in it, she thought, and then frowned as she put all of her concentration back into her magic. Her horn and head ached with overuse, and the energy she normally commanded seemed weak and anemic, but after a moment the unicorn managed to pull up another shield that covered the gaping hole where the Atlas’ left torso used to be and covered the ‘Mech’s core from direct damage.

It came up just in time, as the Centurion opened up the next round of salvos with a barrage of cluster autocannon rounds and a medium laser. The former hit, though most of the projectiles were deflected by Lyra’s shield and the few that did impact the Atlas merely gouged its central torso armor slightly, and luck had a bit of relief for the ‘Mech as the laser missed outright.

The Wolfhound attacked next, followed by the two Phoenix Hawks, and their combined arrays of large and medium lasers reached out to savage the right arm and right and central torso of Dorian's 'Mech. Armor melted in rivulets and spalled off in clouds of vapor and chips, but the protection held and kept the interior from being destroyed.

Dorian counterattacked the next instant, and the gauss rifle spoke again. The air shattered as the fire-wreathed ferrous slug blasted into the as-yet pristine Wolfhound and crushed all of the protection on the light 'Mech's left torso and wrecked some of the supporting structure beneath. The medium lasers mounted in the head and right arm reached out next, and they slagged armor over the central and right torso of the canid-like machine, neatly stripping away nearly half of the enemy's protection.

While this exchange finished, Dorian triggered his radio. “Four calling Two, I'm in up to my waist and the tide's rising!” he exclaimed, even while he started to spin his ‘Mech around to try and avoid the incoming LRMs that his HUD highlighted. The arching waves of guided semi-ballistic missiles came down in sheets to blast yet more protection off of the Atlas, and Dorian began to feel a very real sense of fear. Assault ‘Mech or not, magic or not, nothing can be hammered like this forever and live!

“Two here, I copy you Four, moving up to assist,” Rebecca McKenna’s voice sounded, even through the ringing booms of multiple warhead detonations. “Sitrep,” she added, making the word a simple but firm order.

“Ten ‘Mechs in contact, six mediums, four lights,” Dorian reported, even as he fired his gauss rifle again and sent on of his few remaining shots for that weapon into the Centurion’s left leg, and then followed it up with laser fire that sent the medium-class machine toppling to the ground. Not out, just down for the moment, the MechWarrior’s mind noted automatically, even while the other Desperado ‘Mechs in direct contact rained laser fire on his battered machine. “A shot got through my armor and ammo-racked my missiles. A third of my ride is completely gone and the armor on the rest is melting away like snowballs in Hell.”

“Two copies. I’m coming up with pegasus support,” McKenna replied, her voice somewhat broken up by the jarring motions of her ‘Mech running at full speed. “ETA is ninety seconds.”

“I don’t think we have that long!” Carmine rebutted, even as he laid a gauss slug and lasers into the Wolfhound again. The light ‘Mech took it on the figurative chin, as its chest armor was ripped apart by the savage energies and large chunks of its internal structure were ripped asunder. At least one of its chest-mounted medium lasers bit the dust as it exploded in a ball of shrapnel and the ‘Mech staggered, and then collapsed from the sheer shock of losing so much armor at once.

The return fire from the surrounding 'Mechs was murderous, as laser after laser ripped into and through Lyra's denuded shielding, causing the unicorn to cry again in pain as her magic was finally and fully depleted. Worse yet, the many weapon hits slagged tonnes of armor off of the Atlas' legs, remaining arm, and torso to expose the inner workings of the right side of the 'Mech's broad chest. Finally, missiles from the Commandos followed up their lasers and augured into several exposed portions of the assault 'Mech's internals. Shaped charges ripped into and through structural supports, control systems, and critically, the massive Poland Main Model A Gauss Rifle. The burning hellfire of molten copper and explosive shockwaves blasted several of the storage capacitors for the weapon right after they had finished drawing power from the 'Mech's fusion reactor, and the resulting release of electromagnetic energy amplified the disastrous internal damage, causing almost the entire right side of the Atlas to disintegrate in a manner similar to an ammunition explosion.

To add to Carmine's woes, the detonating gauss rifle sent an amount of feedback through the neurokinesthetic controls that was almost identical to that produced by a detonating ammo rack. For the second time that day his world became pain, and another, tortured scream ripped its way out of his throat and rent it raw. This only lasted a moment, though, before the pain overwhelmed his senses and drove the man into unconsciousness.

* * * *

Lyra had her eyes shut tight as she violently shook her head to try and clear it of the pain from having her shields knocked down again, as well as the torturous cacophony of two very loud explosions that shook the war machine she rode in and the pained screams of Carmine. Such thoughts wafted through her head as she worked to get her mind straightened out, and the unicorn wrenched her eyes open to take in the scene before her. Unfortunately her position did not let her see much of the BattleMech's controls so she couldn't get much information from them—not that I'd know how to read half of them, anyway, she briefly mused—but the mirror on the forward canopy support let her see that Carmine was slumped down in his chair, his arms and body limp and held up only by his restraining harness. His head was also held up by the immense, shoulder-riding bulk of his neurohelmet, and through its faceplate Lyra could see the expression of pain that he wore even while unconscious. What did those explosions do to him? she wondered, even as she cleared her worn throat. “Dorian!” she called out, roughly, as her own yells of pain had worn on her vocal cords.

No answer was forthcoming, as the human remained out of the world. Oh no oh no, Lyra thought, nearly in a panic. My mana’s almost gone, but… She took in a deep breath, and then dredged up the last, tiny scraps of magic power available to her. Pain from over-use made her entire head ache as if placed in a vice, but Lyra remained focused as she used a bit of her telekinesis to remotely grab Carmine’s shoulders, and then used that grip to shake him lightly. “Dorian, wake up!”

Her efforts were rewarded with a groan that emanated from the human, and after a moment more he stirred. “Oh dear God in Heaven and all the devils in Hell, what the fuck hit me?” he asked, in a half-mutter.

“I’m not sure,” Lyra said, with a raised voice so she could be heard. “But I—”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence as the battered ‘Mech shook from more weapons impacts, and an alarm sounded. “Caution, reactor shielding damage: CPS 28% above nominal.”

“Oh fuck me with a sword,” Dorian groaned out. The monumental pain in his mind made it nearly impossible to focus, but the radiation warning was enough to pierce through the haze. A glance at the control console readouts and the HUD showed a most disheartening scene: half of his Atlas was gone. An ammo explosion and a gauss rifle rupture, he realized. If it weren’t for CASE we’d be dead. Shit, we might still be, Carmine mentally added, as he saw the various Desperado ‘Mechs closing in for the kill. Only one thing to do… “Lyra,” he said, slowly and clearly. “Get out of your seat and sit on my lap.”

A moment of silence met this, broken only by warning alarms of weapon lock-ons. Then Lyra spoke up “Dorian,” she began, exasperated. “Now’s not the time to be hitting on me!”

“Lyra,” Dorian ground out, his voice heavy with pain and determination. “This machine is about to go down hard. My seat can eject, yours can’t.”

Another moment of silence, then the sound of buckles and rustling fabric was heard. A glance to the mirror showed that Lyra had gotten the idea, and soon enough she was free of her restrains and was climbing into Carmine’s lap. “I guess we’re going a bit fast, aren’t we?” she teased, as she set her rump down on the bare skin of Dorian’s thighs.

“Yeah, seems like I’ll have to meet your parents next,” Carmine quipped, even as he wrapped his left arm around the unicorn’s back—a bit of a trial with the bulky cooling vests they both still wore—and his right reached down to a large, yellow and black striped bar switch located between his calves. When Dorian spoke next his voice was devoid of mirth. “Wrap your arms around me and hold on as tight as you can; the seat wasn’t made for two and you might go flying off otherwise.”

“Is this a good idea, then?” Lyra asked, even as the crippled Atlas shook with more weapon impacts. The motions sent a rush of fear up her spine, and she reached out to clutch her forelegs around Dorian’s neck partly in response, and partly due to his instruction.

“Probably not, but it’s this or I leave you here to die,” Carmine replied. “Now hold on and try not to vomit,” he said, and then pulled up on the eject lever.

Several things happened in very quick order at this point. Firstly explosive bolts mounted in the cockpit roof detonated, filling the compartment with a deafening cacophony and blasting a portion of the armored shell directly above the command couch sailing away. Blue sky could be seen though the new opening, but neither occupant had a chance to reflect on it before more bolts blasted apart the connections between Dorian's seat and the cockpit framework and a thunderous roar filled his and Lyra's world with noise and light as the escape rocket mounted in the bottom of the command couch lit up. Abrupt and intense G-forces slammed into the pair as the command couch was propelled up through the hole in the roof and beyond.

Lyra could only cling desperately to Dorian's neck as she watched the world fell away from them at a prodigious rate. Below she could see the battered, smoking Atlas take another wave of laser beams from Desperado ‘Mechs that hadn’t noticed that the machine was now inert. One of them apparently hit something rather vital, as the abandoned assault ‘Mech suddenly exploded in a brilliantly white fireball. That could have been us, Lyra chillingly thought, while she blinked her eyes clear from the after image of the reactor “explosion”.

A sudden shift hit her then, and Lyra redoubled her deathgrip on Dorian’s neck as the seat tilted back. A glance to the human’s face showed that he was concentrating on something, and Lyra let her eyes shift down a bit to see that his free hand was busy, working the control stick built into the arm of the command couch. I thought that controlled weapons? she briefly mused, in that moment of incredulous shock that follows a dramatic event. I guess it does more than one thing. I wonder why he’s tilting us?

A moment of observation revealed to the unicorn the reason for Carmine’s angling; the rocket motor on the couch was still firing, and the MechWarrior was using it to try and head in the direction of friendly help. Just as she realized this, though, Lyra felt the rocket cut out and the sensation of freefall descend upon her. This only lasted a few more moments before a loud bang was heard and something flew up from the back of the couch. Then the air filled the cloth and the parachute snapped open to abruptly arrest the descent of man and pony. The sudden jerk that this caused nearly made Lyra lose her grip, but fortunately Dorian’s arm tightened around her back and kept her secure. “Hold on, now,” he said, with a faint smirk on his face. “The date’s not over yet ‘til we’ve had a smooch.”

Despite the situation, Lyra laughed. “You’re a jerk, Dorian,” she said, in jest, even as the seat swung a bit in the crosswind.

“Tut tut, Lyra,” Carmine replied. “If you’re going to insult me, be a human about it and use a word with bite.”

“Up yours, monkey-boy,” the unicorn retorted.

“I guess that’s close enough for now,” Dorian observed, with a more pronounced smirk.

Any further banter was stopped cold, though, by a distant shriek. Both unicorn and human turned their heads to look out towards the east, and Lyra could feel her heart sink as she saw a cloud of griffons closing in on them. “Oh no,” she uttered.

“It ain’t over yet, pony girl,” Carmine said, and then shifted his free hand towards a pouch on his cooling vest. “Don’t worry, though, ‘cuz these griffons are about to learn two simple facts about me,” he added, as he undid a button and then pulled out a large, menacing looking revolver that had glowing spots on it.

“What’s that?” Heartstrings asked. Whether she referred to the pistol or Carmine’s words, even she didn’t know, as her brain was filling with primal fear as the aerial predators closed in enough for her to see the patches of dried blood on their armor.

“From Sera,” Carmine replied, as he aimed the pistol and then used his thumb to pull the hammer back. “With Boltok.” And with that he fired, and the bulky weapon roared as it bucked in his hand.

The effects were immediate, as a very powerful round reached out and touched an approaching griffon with lethal precision. A millisecond later said griffon’s head exploded, and even as his body dropped from the sky another one took the second round from Carmine’s sidearm. Four more times he fired, and when he was done a good chunk had been taken out of the enemy formation. This gave the griffons enough of a scare that the rest of them pulled back a bit to assess their target.

Dorian, meanwhile, had set the now-spent gun into the crevice between the couch’s bottom cushion and the arm. “Right, now that we’ve got a moment,” he muttered, and then looked down. “Be a dear, Lyra, and help me look for a clearing to set this thing down in?”

Lyra blinked at the sudden change of demeanor, but she shoved her confusion to the side as she angled her head to look around. After a moment, she spotted a bare patch of earth, and then shifted one of her forelegs from Carmine’s neck to point to it. “Over there!”

“Alright, I see it,” Dorian replied, and he shifted his free hand again to the joystick on his seat’s arm. Deft movements of the stick sent input to the small computer built into the couch itself, and from the device went electric signals up the small wires built into the parachute lines to tiny strands of myomer embedded in the canopy itself. These tensed and released according to the signals to open and close flaps, and thus directed airflow so that Carmine could accurately steer the descending couch towards the spotted clearing.

Another griffon war call hit their ears then, and both human and pony looked up to see the enemy had regained their nerve and were now coming at them again. “Must land faster,” Lyra earnestly observed.

“Working on it,” Carmine replied, as he returned his attention to guiding their escape vehicle. “Hold on, Lyra, this is going to be an unpleasant thump.”

Lyra could only nod and then resume her deathgrip on Carmine's neck. Dorian grunted at that, but as his neurohelmet shielded him the most he felt was a bit of mild pressure. Focus, he told himself, and then did so as he watched the ground come up to meet him.

The impact was indeed rough, and the chair even bounced once before it toppled over to the left side on the uneven ground. Both passengers yelped in surprise at that, but good fortune saw that neither of them suffered injury. Carmine realized this immediately, and he released Lyra to let her settle on the ground before he started to use both hands to undo his restraints.

Lyra grasped the situation quickly, though, and then quickly stood up and took a few steps away from the chair and the parachute that was starting to drape itself over the area. The unicorn pony saw this and then called up her denuded magic, and grimaced as she used her trickle of remaining power to shift the cloth canopy to the side so as to not let Dorian become entangled.

“Thanks,” the human said, as he easily noted the unique color of Lyra's magic even while he got to his feet. “I always have problems with that,” he added, as he reached up to unclasp his neurohelmet, which he then tossed onto the seat he had so recently left.

“No problem,” Lyra replied. She then looked up to the sky to catch a look at the enemies she knew to be approaching in the air, but the tall trees of the old forest blocked most of the sky. Nevertheless she could tell they were close by the growing sound of wingbeats, and her ears canted forward to catch more of the ominous sound. “I hope you have more shots for that gun of yours,” she muttered to Dorian.

“Not much more,” Carmine replied, even as he retrieved his gun and then reached into a pocket on his cooling vest. Several large rounds were in his hand as he pulled it back out and then went about reloading his revolver. “But Rebecca said she was coming with support; we have to hold here for a moment since she'll be homing in on the rescue beacon in the chair.”

Lyra's eyes widened at that, but she had no chance to respond before the first wave of griffons appeared over the tops of the trees and then dived on them. “Dorian!” She shouted in alarm.

The MechWarrior responded instantly, and he spun around and aimed his gun high as the first griffon dove at him. The Boltok in his hand roared and blasted the charging warrior's chest wide open, but more were coming and Carmine had to dodge to the side to avoid a swooping dive from another griffon with a sword.

Two more targeted Lyra, and the pony had to dive to the ground to avoid their blades. A third saw this and then landed on the ground in front of her, and Lyra could only stare up in defeated shock as she watched him sneer and draw back his mace for a killing blow.

Then his head disappeared in a cloud of red and pink as a burst of nine millimeter slugs ripped it apart. Lyra gasped as the griffon's headless body collapsed to the ground, both from the suddenness and from seeing death first hand, but before she could think on it another burst of gunfire ripped into an airborne griffon and slayed him, as well. Then a blue blur flew over her head and cut a chaotic path through the griffon warriors and drew their attention away from the unicorn on the ground, followed by several more less speedy figured who made quick, slashing strikes with swords that further injured, slayed ,and discombobulated the griffons.

Lyra blinked at this, and then felt a sense of relief as she recognized the Wonderbolts in their distinctive uniforms, as well as the prismatic flash of Ponyville’s most famous pegasus. Relief turned into fear again, though; as she saw more griffons appear over the treetops and dive down on the outnumbered pegasi, who were even now engaging in brutal close quarters fighting. Save Rainbow Dash, who darted through the area to take shots with her SMG.

It was into this chaos that Carmine fired several shots, even as he ran over to where Lyra remained on the ground. “Come on, pony girl,” he said, as he reached down with his free hand and grabbed Lyra's foreleg near where it met her body. He then lifted the unicorn onto her hooves before he released her. “We need to get out of here.”

Still shocked and fearful, Lyra could only nod up at the human before she turned to follow him towards the edge of the clearing. The two had barely reached the treeline when a thumping sound previously in the background suddenly became prominent, and a familiar, husky voice shouted behind them. “Wonderbolts hit the dirt!”

Both Lyra and Carmine spun around at that, and they beheld the Wonderbolts diving to the ground as the griffons paused, and then sneered down at what seemed to be easy targets. Their sneers did not last long, however, as the thumping became louder and was joined by the rustling and snapping of breaking trees.

A moment later, Rebecca McKenna arrived. Her broad-chested Warhammer broke through a bough of trees off to Lyra's right, and scarcely had the blocky machine appeared before a whining was heard and two minigun barrels mounted on the chest began to spin up. After a half second these guns and the medium pulse lasers mounted in its chest began to fire into the griffon force. Lances of laser trails and a constant stream of tracers lit the area in an appropriately Hellish light as the rapid-firing weapons filled the air with death and carnage. Lyra found herself staring at the Warhammer with wide eyes as she watched streams of brass bullet casings pour from ejection slots just below the multi-barreled machine guns, and the air rippled around the pulse laser mountings as the BattleMech's cooling systems worked to dump waste heat into the environment.

Then as abruptly as it started, the firing ended. An eerie silence fell over the clearing, and Lyra tentatively turned her head towards where the griffons had been. She trembled to see that the air had been thoroughly cleared out by the impressive display of 'Mech firepower, leaving only broken, burnt, and bloody bodies on the forest floor.

“Dorian!” a voice shouted, and the unicorn turned her head again to see Rainbow Dash flying over towards where she and Carmine stood. “Are you two okay?” the pegasus asked as she hovered before them.

“We're in one piece, thanks,” Dorian replied, even as he took out another handful of rounds and reloaded his pistol. “And thanks to you, too, Rebecca!” he added, in a shout directed towards the angular head of the Warhammer.

“You won't be thanking me when Jim gets back,” Rebecca McKenna replied, via her 'Mech's external speakers. “You lost his Atlas and he's gonna be pissed.

“But that can wait,” she added, as her tone grew serious again. “Captain Spitfire, are your troops fresh enough to carry our rescuees back to the main column?”

“Definitely,” replied the fiery-maned pony standing in the midst of the clearing carnage.

“Good, get at it while I cover your retreat.”

* * * *

Rebecca McKenna waited for Spitfire's acknowledgment before she turned off her external speakers, and then sighed. “At least we got to them before the enemy did,” she observed.

“I’m glad to hear it,” her passenger chimed in. As with Carmine, Rebecca had affixed a temporary mirror on a cockpit support strut so she could cast a look back at her unicorn rider. A quick glance at said mirror revealed the green eyes of the piebald, chocolate-maned pony looking back at her. “But aren’t the enemy forces close?” he asked.

“Yes and no,” Rebecca replied, and then focused back to her HUD and then started to turn her Warhammer around. She made sure that the broad feet of the 70-tonne war machine would trod carefully on the uneven ground of the forest floor before she glanced to her holographic display to check on the others in the clearing. Both Lyra and Dorian were already being picked up, literally in the human’s case: two ponies had reached under an arm each and were bodily hauling him away, while Lyra had hopped onto a stallion’s back before being spirited into the sky.

Her rider seemed to understand the demanding nature of the moment, and so waited until Rebecca had finished the evolution before he spoke again. “So are we going to be shot in the back, or not?” the unicorn, Rocky Road, asked.

“Dorian steered his seat clear of them a bit, so we’ve got some breathing space so long as we get going,” Rebecca answered, as she pushed her ‘Mech’s throttle to the max setting. The Warhammer responded almost instantly and quickly reached a loping pace that had its gun-barrel arms swinging back and forth in mimicry of human locomotion. And battering aside random trees, the woman noted, as a moderately young tree was smashed into kindling when the heavy ‘Mech ran right through it. “Also we have the advantage of knowing where our friends and enemies are at. The Desperadoes will have to feel their way forward now that they’re not in contact with us, so that should also buy us some time to get back to the main column.”

“Yeah, but they caught up to us once already,” Rocky Road observed.

“Well, that’s why we’re heading for the river,” Rebecca explained. “Once we get everyone across we can set up a defensive line and hit the Desperadoes again and halt their advance. And maybe this time we won’t get any of those damn changelings screwing things up.”

The unicorn winced. “Be careful saying stuff like that,” he said, cautiously. “It usually comes to bite ponies in the flank when they say things of that nature.”

Rebecca shot him an irritated look. “You’re starting to sound like my husband,” she wryly observed. “He's paranoid about things like that, too.”

“Well, in Equestria words tend to have weight at times,” Rocky added. “Magic and all that.”

“From what I've seen what you call magic is just another energy manipulation system,” Rebecca returned. “I don't see how it would care about what words are actually spoken.”

Just then the radio came alive, and voices sounded from the cockpit speakers rather than the earphones built into McKenna's helmet; a courtesy to her rider. “Blackfoot One to Dark Horse Two, there is emergency situation at the re-arming point.”

Rebecca blinked, and then frowned heavily as she double-checked an MFD on her console that displayed the local area map. Then she hit a switch to activate her microphone. “Speak to me, Ivan,” she responded.

“Blackfoot head back with Kage troopers to regroup and rearm,” the armored infantryman reported. “Found camp attacked by bug-pony things, think they are changelings, da?”

“Attacked?” Rebecca repeated. Rocky Road looked into the mirror and saw her eyes widen a bit. “How bad?”

“Severe loss of life to support staff, both human and pony,” Ivan explained, his tone dispassionate and even. “Many casualties besides. Ponies healing their own thanks to magic, but it does not appear that we will be able to rearm 'mechs.”

“Damn!” Rebecca shouted, even as she slammed a fist on one of the armrests of her command couch. She took a moment to gather herself, and then spoke again in a more professional tone. “What's the current situation with the changelings, Blackfoot?”

“Main force killed or driven off, some prisoners taken,” Ivan responded. “Area is currently secure. Changelings using medieval weapons, no offensive magic. Blackfoot can hold against battalion-sized force without help, but only until ammo runs out.”

“Two copies. We'll be there soon enough, Ivan, just keep things stable until Jim or I get on the scene.”

“Understood,” Ivan replied. “Going back to Blackfoot channel.”

“Copy,” Rebecca said, and then flipped a switch on her console to stop transmitting. She then let loose a string of profanity that would rival most sailors, and then sighed. After this her eyes flicked up to the mirror and stared a hole into Rocky Road's soul. “Not one word,” she said, coldly.

Rocky Road wisely mimed zipping his lips shut and kept his peace.

* * * *

Applejack winced as a potion filled her body with a brief round of energy that set her healing into overdrive. Suddenly her head cleared and her hearing returned to normal in a rush that made the earth pony dizzy for a moment. A voice then spoke to her: “Are you alright, lady Applejack?”

The orange Apple looked up and then blinked as she recognized the uniform of a field medic on the stallion who had spoken to her. “Yeah,” she said, a bit hesitantly. Then she shook her head and nodded before she spoke again. “Yeah, Ah am. Thank you, corporal.”

“Good,” the gray earth pony said, and then turned to lift the potion bottle with his hoof and place it back in the white saddlebags he wore. “I didn't want to use more than I needed to; we're going to need all of it,” he added, and then glanced around.

Applejack mirrored him in growing dread, as she sought to confirm what she had observed while concussed. Sweet Maker an' all the stars in the sky, she thought, as she saw the lines of bodies that had been hastily collected from where they'd fallen. Human and pony alike lied in repose side-by-side, with only the changeling dead separated from the rest, as they were set out in a line of their own near the edge of the clearing. At least, the ones still in a big enough piece ta count as a body, Applejack realized, with a shudder. No wonder Dash was acting all weird before; this is terrible.

The stallion who'd spoken to her simply gave her a knowing nod, and then turned to head off to the next pony in the triage line that Applejack had been led to by a cajoling McCoy. Said human was himself being tended to by a pink unicorn mare with similar set of white medic bags over her back, and the gruff old man was talking into his headset even as he was treated. “I donna care if ye got a load lifter or not, ye better get that damned gantry tore down an ready for hauling or you're gonna find me foot up your ass!”

“Sir,” the medic attending him said, as she used her magic to try and tighten up the bandages that covered his wound. “You've taken a nasty hit, I think you should try to calm—”

“Ye finish that sentence, lass, and we'll see how far a unicorn can fly with a boot-assisted takeoff,” McCoy snapped at her, with an angry expression on his face. “I got too many a things tae do tae sit back an' let some candy-colored pony tell me t' relax!”

The mare winced at that, but she stood firm as she finished working on the human. “I won’t pretend I can order you,” she said, calmly. “But you should take this injury seriously.”

“I'll do that when ye start treatin' me seriously, instead of one tenth me age,” McCoy fired back, and this time the mare did shirk back. “Now git tae treatin' them who got it worse than me,” he added, and then stood and started to walk off and back towards the now disrupted supply camp.

Applejack frowned, and then stood up and trotted off to catch up with the elderly man. “Ya don't got ta be so harsh on the girl,” she admonished McCoy after she slowed to match his pace. “She's only lookin' out for ya.”

“An' she can do that without baby talkin' me,” McCoy countered, without even looking down at the earth pony as they walked down an aisle between parts and ammo containers. “I appreciate that she cares, but I've had worse and I donna care for any coddlin' she feels like giving.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Ya had worse than a spear in yer side?” she asked, skeptically.

McCoy snorted. “They don't call me 'Steeljaw' just because I'm an arsehole,” he replied, and then tapped his bearded chin with a finger. “Had th' old one shattered by a bullet back in th' Fourth War,” he explained. “The docs replaced it with a metal one. Took me six months tae learn how tae talk again. Half the reason I grew a beard was tae hide th' scars.”

The farmer could only wince at the explanation. “Ah'm sorry ta hear that,” she said, with sympathy.

Once again, the human snorted. “It was fifty years ago, lass, ye ain't got tae say anything 'bout it,” he responded, and then shook his head as the two reached the end of the aisle and paused to look out over the center of the camp. Here was where they had both been hurt, and here were the still recent marks of blood and viscera that made even the jaded mercenary pause.

Applejack, meanwhile, had to clench her jaws as bile rose in her throat. What the hay did Alice use, anyway? she wondered. Dang thing just... blew 'em apart. How did that happen? How could anypony do that to another?

Sort of how them changelings killed some guards in the Canterlot invasion, and a whole lot of ponies and humans just now, a voice whispered in the back of Applejack's head, and she had to shake it to clear her thoughts a bit. All this killing, it just ain't right.

“Anyway,” McCoy interrupted her thoughts, and Applejack turned her head up to see the man giving her a surprisingly sympathetic look. “We ain't got th' time tae be talkin' 'bout old war stories. We lost too many people tae make a proper rearming station, an' from what I heard on the radio the boys up at the front got a drubbin' thanks tae our wee bug problem,” he said, and then sighed as he looked over the camp, which was now in disarray. Applejack followed his lead and took in the scene of various workers, both human and pony, struggling to accomplish several smaller tasks, but all seemed to be without much guidance. “We're no longer an asset, lass,” McCoy added.

“So what does that mean?” Applejack asked, with genuine curiosity and concern peeking through her melancholy.

“It means we need tae get out buts in gear an' get out o' here,” McCoy answered, and then swept an arm over the camp. He then winced and bent over slightly to apply a hand to his bandaged wound. “Ach, damned cut. Anyway, lass, from what I've been hearing them boggart changelings royally screwed our plan up. We're supposed tae have time and manpower tae fix everyone up, but we lost too many an' the Desperadoes are hot on our boys' heels instead o' bein' discombobulated like we'd hoped. This all needs tae be packed up or we're gonna have tae burn it, and I'd rather have something tae arm our forces when we get back tae Canterlot.”

“We're gonna hafta go all the way back?” Applejack asked, as she looked up at the old man in mild shock.

McCoy nodded. “Aye. There ain't much between your capitol an' Manehattan that can make a good defensive position, and we're at the second one,” he explained, and then paused as he walked over to a nearby, low-slung crate, and then sat down on it with a groan. “This plan always had a narrow margin o' victory, and thanks to th' changelings that margin's damn near gone. So we gotta do what we can tae try an' recover,” he explained, and then spitted Applejack with a hard look. “Which brings me tae you.”

“Me?” Applejack asked, in surprise.

“Aye, you,” McCoy replied, with a nod. “Th' pony in charge o' the army detachment got 'imself killed, an' with this wound an' me age it's gonna take all me attention tae just get my own people up an' running,” he said, evenly. “I need you tae take charge, lass, an' light a fire under your people's backsides so we can get th' Hell outta Dodge.”

Applejack blinked at that, as her memory tweaked at the human idiom. Nevertheless she recovered quickly and then shook her head. “Ah ain't no kind of leader, McCoy,” she said, slowly. “Ah wouldn't even know where to begin.”

“Bullshit,” McCoy replied, harshly, and then pointed a finger at the orange-colored mare. “You're a farmer, an' I seen ye do some good things on th' way here. If ye ain't capable o' organizing than ye wouldn't have a business no more, an' I spoke with Rainbow Dash enough tae hear how ye've kept your family's farm runnin' and even grown it a bit,” he observed, and then paused for breath while Applejack blushed and then pulled down on her hat a bit to hide her eyes. “Ye seem tae be capable enough tae me, lass.”

“Even so,” Applejack began, as she looked back up at the human. “Ah ain't no military pony. Them boys ain't gonna listen to me.”

“'Cept they will,” McCoy rejoined, and then smirked. “I checked 'fore we left Canterlot, lass; you're a knight o' the realm, from what I hear.”

Another blush washed over Applejack's features at that. “That's jus' honorary,” she protested, as she glanced down.

The sound of a heavy sigh broke into Applejack's thoughts, and she looked back up at McCoy. “I ain't got time for modesty or self-doubt, lass,” he said, slowly. “We've got a ridiculously short amount o' time tae get everything going if we're even gonna save th' people here, let alone the material. From what I've been told ye're th' mare for the job. The question is, are ye gonna step up an' take a swing, or are ye gonna sit back and hide like a wee little girl?”

The fur on Applejack's hackles rose a bit at the harsh question, but she hesitated to give an answer. Can I really do this? she asked herself, as she scrunched her mouth up in thought. This ain't no farm we're dealing with, this here's lives. She opened her mouth and was about to refuse, but then noticed McCoy looking out and over the area. Concerned, Applejack looked as well, but then relaxed slightly when she saw no new catastrophe unfolding. What she did notice, though, was the exact same view as before, but now with McCoy's words running through her head she saw it with different eyes. There's no organization, no leadership for the folks around here. Hay, for all I know they could be working against each other, and they wouldn't know it. Her eyes then traced down to the bodies in the distance, and sadness washed over her. All them killed, and more could die if we don't get out of here quick enough.

Something familiar filled her soul then, and Applejack felt her jaw set in determination. Not while I can do something, she thought. If McIntosh and I can keep the farm running, I can certainly do this. A faint smirk briefly flashed over her muzzle at the thought. Heh, Mac always did let me organize things. Guess me an' Twilight got something else in common aside from big, goofy older brothers. With that, she turned her head back to McCoy, who was looking at the mare. “Alright, let's git 'r done.”

McCoy managed a rare smile. “Glad tae hear it, lass,” he said, and then became serious. “'Cus we got no time to lose. Now, here's what I need...”

* * * *

“You cheating son of a whore!” Melissa McKenna cursed as she wrenched her Stuka hard to the left to avoid incoming cannon fire. “There is no way in Hell you have more ammunition for that penis gun!”

Trade Wind desperately used what gripping magic he had in his hooves to try and keep from being thrown around in his seat. The restraints are good, but they leave the limbs to flop about if you're not careful, he incredulously mused, in a brief moment of distraction. Then Melissa made the heavy fighter suddenly reverse its turn, and the crippled pegasus was tossed against the other side of his seat, held in place only by his harness. Right, I should probably pay attention to this fight I'm in but can't help out at all and OH FUCK I'M GOING TO DIE.

This last thought came at a particularly appropriate time as the Stuka, flying just above the treetops, looked set to run into the side of a very large hill that was halfway to being a mountain. Of course, whether the pile of earth and rock deserved that title was immaterial as either way it would be quite unhealthy to run into it. Fortunately, though, Melissa had anticipated the obstruction and pulled another hard right to avoid a collision, as well as a wash of missile fire from the two Reivers following behind and above them. Trade Wind had the bare impression of fire blossoming on the hill before the feature whipped past at an insane speed.

Scarcely had this occurred when another large hill loomed in the front, and then abruptly shifted as Melissa pulled another, hard right turn and then immediately followed it with a one hundred eighty degree roll to port and then a hard left turn; a fortuitous move that threw off the aim of the fighters behind her once again. “C'mon, run out of ammo already!” the human grunted, more to herself as she had seemingly forgotten about her passenger.

“Is that really the best chance we have?” Trade Wind asked, half in fear. “Wait for them to shoot us so they'll stop shooting us?”

“You have a better idea I'd love to hear it!” Melissa shot back, even as she pitched the Stuka up and over a small copse of trees that happened to be just a bit taller than the rest. She then quickly pushed the nose back down and then slung her fighter to a wide left turn as a swarm of missiles nearly hit. Then a second swam came in and blasted more armor off of the stern. The fighter shook and a warning started to warble in the cockpit. “Damn!” the pilot cursed, after she took a look at an indicator in her HUD.

“What is it now?” Trade asked, concerned.

“Armor's almost gone,” Melissa replied, with a fatalistic tone. “Maybe if those Lucifers hadn't been pelting us earlier I could've held out, but...”

“There's gotta be something we can do,” Trade Wind offered, and then winced when Melissa threw her fighter into another hard turn around a mountain. Although he hadn't been trained in how to fly a fightercraft, Trade had picked up a bit on how to read the HUD he could see over Melissa's shoulders, and thus could see that her maneuver had gained them time as the turn had put their pursuers on the other side.

“I'm doing the best I can, but they're faster and more maneuverable than we are,” Melissa explained. Her tone was strained as she continued to pay most of her attention to piloting, given that the aerospace craft was still hurtling along at treetop level. She even paused briefly as she noted a slight dip in the terrain and took advantage of it to push her craft just a little bit lower, and thus gave the Rievers now on her port quarter less of a profile to target. “Our only advantage is we have energy weapons and they don’t, but that won’t matter if they get another solid hit in!”

Trade Wind could only stare in mute silence as his mind processed the pilot’s words. Is this really it? he asked himself, as the Stuka was thrown into another rough turn. Everything in my life, everything I’ve been through, all the fighting and struggle and stress, and I’m about to be killed because of stupid random chance?

Despair started to fill his soul at that, but his ruminations were cut off as Melissa spoke again: “shit,” she uttered.

“What now?” Trade asked, morosely.

“They split up,” the human pilot responded, and then sighed. “They’re using their better speed and maneuverability to come at us from two angles. I don’t think I can’t dodge the crossfire.”

“There’s gotta be something for you to do!” Trade Wind protested.

“I don’t know if there is,” Melissa replied, a mix of steel and sadness in her voice. “I’ll try, Windy, but if you got any prayers you want to make, better do it now, ‘cuz here they come.”

Her last words were punctuated by the screaming alarms of targeting systems locking onto the Stuka, and Trade Wind felt his pulse race even faster than before as the fear of imminent death caused his body to dump its entire adrenalin reserves into his blood. No! NO! This is not how it ends! he mentally screamed, and then suddenly reached with his forelegs and slammed his hooves into the sides of the cockpit. He had no conscious idea of what he was doing, and in fact he had no subconscious idea, either. Trade Wind simply lashed out in the way that only primal survival instincts could muster and reacted with the only strength he could use in the situation: pegasus magic, which flowed through and out from him and into the airframe of the Stuka.

Whether by fate, fortune, or happenstance, it was precisely the right thing to do. Even as the magic took hold Melissa was desperately pulling back on her controls to bring the fighter out of their enemies’ targeting envelopes. It’s not enough, she thought, as despair filled her. I’m sorry, mom, dad, I waaaat the FUCK?! This last bit came just as her fightercraft, beyond all expectations, pulled up faster and abruptly accelerated as if it were a light craft one third its size and mass. Melissa’s maneuver suddenly became over-exaggerated to the point where the fighter she flew wrenched itself completely out from the two Rievers’ sights just before two converging clouds of missiles would have finished off the wounded Stuka. Instead the various SRMs and LRMs simply crisscrossed the suddenly empty space, with a few colliding and detonating each other.

“What the fuck was that!” Melissa shouted, even as she desperately wrenched her controls a few times as the fighter over-responded to her commands. Soon enough, however, she got a feel for the new conditions, and then took a moment to check her HUD. Both of the Desperado Rievers were suddenly farther behind and below her, and the latter condition made the human blink hard before she checked her altimeter. “We gained eight hundred meters?! Windy,” she said, as a part of her mind started to make connections. “Did you do something?”

“I think?” Trade Wind replied. His breathing was still heavy from the adrenalin surge, but his conscious thought processes were starting to reassert themselves. “I… I just panicked and threw all of my magic into the fighter,” he said, after he took a moment to think.

“I thought that just let you stand on clouds and shit?” Melissa asked, and then tested the controls with caution. “How are you making this thing move like a light fighter?”

Trade Wind had to shake his head at that, both to help clear it, and also at how the human had ignored or forgotten some of the explanation of pegasus magic she and the other humans had been given when the plan was laid out by her father. “It also makes us able to fly, even though our wings and muscle strength wouldn’t be enough on their own to let us do so. It makes us lighter, increases airflow over our wings, and reduces air resistance, and we can channel that into objects so we can tow carts and chariots.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Melissa asked, and then took a moment to physically twist around in her seat to look back at Trade Wind with wide eyes. “How come you haven’t been doing that this entire fight, then?”

Trade Wind helplessly shrugged at her. “You never asked, and I didn’t think your machine could make use of my limited magic,” he said, tiredly. “It took a team of thirty pegasi to push this thing into position after your cranes put it on the cloud, after all.”

“Yes, but we weren’t on our own power then!” Melissa retorted. An alarm sounded from her console then, and she turned back around in her seat to check the HUD. “We’ll talk about this later, TW. Right now, how long can you keep this up?”

“I don’t know,” he said, with some strain. “I’m running on adrenalin, and that increases our magic output like it does with muscles. But it won’t last forever and I’ll be drained, especially with how large and heavy this thing is. Maybe a few minutes, more if I reduce the effect, but if I do I’m not sure if it’ll be enough to help any.”

“Anything is better than nothing!” Melissa replied, and then pulled on her controls. The now-nimble fightercraft rolled to the left and then spun on its horizontal axis to pull up and out of the line of an LRM cloud with ease. “If we live through this, I’m going to kill you for not telling me about your magic. After that I might just marry you if you can bring this kind of performance to the table.”

Trade Wind blinked, even as the fighter went through an Immelmann turn. Then he said the first thing that went through his head: “Your species is weird.”

“Pot calling kettle: you’re black,” Melissa retorted.

“Duly noted.”

* * * *

“I don’t know who’s in that thing, but he’s got some balls,” Jurgen Poole observed, with a rare note of respect in his voice while the Stuka below hurtled along at treetop level between mountains.

“Agreed,” Carver added, even as he and his wingmate pulled their Rievers up in a three-dimensional arc, rising in height as well as banking out to the side to get a better position on the fleeing Stuka. “He might just live, too, if we don’t get him with our next few rounds.”

A grumble met that observation, but no verbal reply or disagreement came back over the radio. Jurgen’s not an idiot, Carver noted. Which makes it sad that he’s also a bit of a selfish prick, too, like most in the Desperadoes. He shook his head at that, and then checked the HUD. “Alright, we’ve only got a few more rounds in us, so let’s make them count,” he announced, even as a part of him wanted to rebel. If the Dark Horse can’t win, then making myself useful to O’Connell is the only way to stay alive long enough to work against him, he grimly remembered the cold political calculus he and Seabreeze had gone over. And I won’t be useful if I let someone get away without making an effort of some kind, at least.

With that, he pulled up on his stick to gain some altitude, and Poole followed suit. “Okay, Jurgen, we’ll split up. You’ll approach from the right and I’ll come from the left to pincer this guy in our fire. It ought to be enough to finish the poor bastard off.”

“Copy that, boss. Sounds like a good idea,” Poole agreed.

“Right,” Carver said, and then took a deep breath. “Execute.”

At that word both he and Poole pulled on their controls, and their flying wings split off from one another to spread out before they turned inward and down, towards the Dark Horse fighter only ninety meters below. Looks like we have you now, he darkly mused, while his targeting system solidified its lock and then chirped at him. “Now, Jurgen!” he called, and then pulled the trigger on his missiles. Nearly two score of SRMs and LRMs blasted free from their launchers to corkscrew in and towards the hapless Stuka, and Carver felt a note of sympathy as he saw the pilot desperately trying to overcome his craft’s relative lack of maneuverability and twist out of the way. Too little, too late, he observed.

It was thus an immense surprise when the 100-tonne Stuka pitched up and accelerated faster than a heavy fighter had any right to. Zachary could only stare in shock as the Dark Horse craft broke out of the engagement envelope and dodged every single missile fired at it by shooting up and higher than even his own fighter in a mere second. “What the fuck?” he asked, even as the Stuka soared up and above both his and Poole’s fighters and raced ahead of them.

“Odin’s beard!” the other Desperado pilot yelped into his radio. “Did you see that?”

“I saw it, but I hardly believe it,” Carver replied, even as he felt an odd mixture of relief and frustration. Even when I know better, it’s hard to not want the kill, he mused. Then he shook his head a bit. “Some more magic, I guess. Come on, let’s get after ‘im,” he ordered, and then pushed his throttle forward and pulled his stick back.

“I copy that,” Poole confirmed, and then followed suit. He also nudged his fighter into formation with Carver without being told, and the two Rievers soon were behind the Dark Horse Stuka and closing in on the battered fighter.

They had an LRM lock within seconds, and Carver could only do what he’d been trained to do. “Fire!” he ordered, and then sent ten missiles downrange, followed quickly by Poole’s own barrage. Both streams of missiles soared in far faster than any fighter could move, yet the Stuka almost seemed disdainful of the attack as it pitched back and swung out of the line of fire like a ballet dancer swinging around his partner.

“Dammit!” Poole yelled over the channel, and a glance to his HUD showed Carver the reason why. “I'm bingo LRMs and I've got only two rounds of SRMs and three cannon volleys left.”

“Same here,” Carver replied, and then sighed as he watched the Dark Horse fighter corkscrew through the air to avoid being locked-on again. “We're never gonna catch him at this rate, Jurgen; let's pull back and go re-arm.”

“Are you sure, boss?” Poole asked. “The Major won't like us letting one get away.”

“Considering we've stripped his armor and killed his wingmate, I'd call it a victory,” Carver replied, and then pulled back on his stick. The Riever ably responded, and soon he and Poole were on an easterly course back to their makeshift airfield. “Besides,” he added, as he checked one of his MFDs. “If the ground plot is any indication, we've got 'em on the run.”

* * * *

Heat filled the cockpit of Johannes Schneider’s Firestarter OmniMech as he fired both of his machine’s large lasers. The arm-mounted heavy weapons made a distinctive, loud trilling noise as their capacitors discharged and blazing red beam-trails cast a hellish light back into the cockpit itself. Schneider wasn’t even aware of these sensations, though, as he concentrated entirely on his piloting and targeting, and in the latter case he watched as his efforts were rewarded and one of his weapons scoured the last armor over a Wolverine’s left arm and ate some of the structure underneath.

The Desperado MechWarrior, however, responded quickly and decisively as he fired an alpha strike back at the lighter ‘Mech. The autocannon stitched a line of shattered armor plates up the Firestarter’s left leg, and the medium laser slashed even more protection off of the right arm. Fortunately for Schneider, though, the SRMs lost their lock in the cloud of dueling ECM and ECCM systems and all six of the missiles soared off to detonate amongst the trees.

And if we hadn’t come out to meet this wave then those might’ve killed some of the natives, Schneider reminded himself, even as he winced at how naked his ‘Mech was becoming. They’re crossing the river now, but until they’re done we’ve got to keep the Desperadoes busy.

Schneider pulled back on his throttle even as he mulled over the tactical situation, and within moments his Firestarter was backing off in an attempt to put more concealment between him and the three enemy ‘Mechs that had appeared in his sector. “Could use a shield when you’re ready, Fire,” he said to his passenger.

“I’m trying,” the blue-coated unicorn replied, as she frowned and concentrated. An orange glow appeared around her horn for a moment, but soon dissipated, and she sighed. “I’m still kind of worn out from that last hit,” she explained.

“Yes, those LRMs are getting rather annoying,” “Hermes” agreed, dryly. “Fortunately, we have our own support,” he added, as he watched ID tags on his HUD denoting friendly LRM clouds reaching out to smash into an enemy machine. The HUD also revealed that the enemy had pulled back a bit to reorganize, and Schneider took a moment to check the tactical display on one of his MFDs again.

The remaining Dark Horse ‘Mechs had formed a simple battle line, with Rebecca McKenna’s Warhammer in the center, with Silva’s Centurion and Mendoza’s Commando on either wing. The two exceptions were Delacroix’s Catapult, which was slightly behind the Dark Horse line to better allow Earl the chance to provide fire support on any threatened ally, and of course James McKenna’s Highlander, which was now on the tactical display but still two and a half kilometers distant. And he’s got heavy woods to maneuver through, as well, Johannes noted.

He also took note of the enemy positions that were known, and the situation was not entirely favorable. The Desperadoes had recovered from the ambush and now their dander was up; they pressed in hard whenever they could find a Dark Horse ‘mech, and the latter were fast running out of fallback room as they seemingly inched closer and closer to the river ford that the Equestrian army was using to pull its troops to relative safety.

“Relative” being the operative word here, Schneider wryly noted. We still have no idea if we got rid of all those damn changeling infiltrators, and the griffons keep pressing in on the ponies from the north; only their airborne troops are keeping the ground-pounders from being reamed. He looked up and consulted his HUD for a moment, and then stopped his ‘Mech’s retreat before he turned it to the right and moved off to be somewhere other than where the enemy expected him to be. The only good news is that neither side has aerospace fighters strafing us, so at least we don’t have to worry about that.

Even as he thought that, Schneider saw a new icon pop up on his HUD, and the battle computer quickly revealed the airborne icon as a Lucifer. Well, I spoke too soon, Hermes thought, as he noted that the medium-class fighter was alone. What happened to our birds?

He decided to push such thoughts from his mind as he saw the enemy fighter angling for a strafing run. “Now would be a good time to get us shielded, Firecracker,” Schneider observed to his passenger.

“I’m working on it!” the mare replied, and then screwed her eyes shut as her horn lit up again. This time the glow remained in place, and soon a shield formed around the Firestarter. “There,” Firecracker Burst replied, as she opened her eyes to give the MechWarrior a pained look. “I don’t know how long I can hold it, but it should blunt at least one attack.”

“Anything is better than nothing, love,” Schneider replied, as he slipped a bit deeper into his New Avalon accent; something he usually did when stressed. “Now hold on, this isn’t going to be pleasant.”

The lone Lucifer streaked in even as he said this, and within a fraction of a second its lasers flashed as the 65-tonne aerospace craft flew overhead. Six lasers, two large and six small, gouged lines of burning foliage, glassed soil, and ruined armor along a one hundred fifty meter-long line, although Firecracker’s last-second shield managed to wean off most of the energy before it hit the Firestarter. What energy did get through, though, slagged some of the last armor over the medium ‘mech’s left arm, and one particularly random bolt slammed into the head, and the reaction of armor spalling off of the outside of the structure was enough to heavily shake the cockpit and its two occupants.

“Damn!” Schneider shouted as the ‘Mech settled. He shook his head to clear it, and then checked the HTAL armor display on his right-hand MFD. That took more than I wanted to lose, he darkly mused, and then glanced over to Firecracker. “You okay there, Fire?”

“Mostly,” the unicorn replied, as she reached up to rub her unlit horn with a hoof. “I really don’t know if I can bring up another shield today,” she morosely added, and then sighed. “I’ve never felt so spent be—”

Her words were cut off as a warning sounded in the cockpit, and the Firestarter shook as more LRM fire found its way in to rip off armor from the torso, and several missiles slammed into the unprotected left arm. Schneider’s eyes snapped back to his HUD and winced as he saw one of the lines of text that represented various weapons’ status was grayed out. “Shit, lost the weapon in that arm,” he muttered, and then pulled his throttle back as enemy ‘Mech icons reappeared to his front. “Three calling Two,” he said into his radio, once he flipped a thumb control to activate it. “I’m down one large laser and I’ve got a Wolverine and Griffin gunning for me; I could use some help, here.”

“You and everyone else,” Rebecca replied, her voice harried and overlaid by the sound of particle cannons firing. “Alright, let’s fall back to the river; Stonewall ought to be done by now, and we need to trade space for time.” She paused, and then when she spoke again the volume of her voice had lowered slightly, indicating a broad angle transmission. “Dark Horse Two here, all units fall back to the river. Repeat, fall back to the river,” Rebecca ordered.

A chorus of copies came in, and Schneider was one of them. It was all he had time for, though, as the Wolverine closed in again through the thick woods to open up his line of sight, and the Desperado ‘Mech quickly brought up its autocannon-bearing right arm and aimed it directly for the Firestarter, while lock-on alarms sounded in the Dark Horse ‘Mech’s cockpit.

“Oh fuck this,” Schneider said, and then slammed down on a set of pedals outside of the ones he used for steering. A tremendous roar filled the air as the Firestarter’s jump jets blasted out superheated air and sent the 45-tonne ‘Mech flying. This occurred with fortuitous timing as the enemy Wolverine fired its weapons in the space where Schneider’s ‘Mech had been, and thus the three weapons systems missed and instead blasted trees and dirt into a very fine mist.

Not that Schneider had time to muse on it, as he used the jet pedals to steer his ‘Mech through the air via sheer vectored force. A glance outside the cockpit revealed the surrealistic scene of a small river valley, idyllic in appearance save for the various patches of burning forest and trails of smoke and weapons fire lacing the area. Johannes put such observations to the side, though, as he rotated the Firestarter even as it flew so he could face towards the river, and thus was able to come to a landing just inside the treeline on the east bank.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to something like this flying,” Firecracker Burst wryly noted.

“Better than pigs, at least,” Schneider quipped, while he pressed the throttle forward to send his ‘Mech loping forward and into the open air.

“What?” Burst asked, confused.

“Nothing, old saying,” Schneider said, dismissively. “Hang on, we’re going for another spin,” he added, and then triggered his jump jets again, and again the ‘Mech soared through the air, this time across the river and near the treeline on the west bank. Once on the ground Johannes again pushed his throttled forward, and soon enough had the Firestarter amongst the trees, whereupon he spun it around.

“What’re we doing?” Burst asked, curious.

“Overwatch,” Schneider explained, and then paused as both he and his passenger watched in differing states of fascination as the hunched, birdlike form of the Dark Horse’s Catapult burst through the trees on the east side of the river, and then fired its jump jets. Silvery ion flame burst from the rear of the forward-jutting cylindrical torso of the 65-tonne support ‘Mech and sent the massive machine flying over the river, much as Schneider had done. The distance it travelled was much shorter, though, and Delacroix’s ‘Mech landed in the mud of the riverbank. Slightly unbalanced by the soft ground, Earl had to wave his machine’s stubby, missile-box arms for a moment before he could steady it, and then sent it running into the canopy a distance to the right of the Firestarter.

“Not all of our ‘Mechs have jets,” Schneider continued, once the spectacle was over with. “And some of the ones who do don’t have as much range since they’re also much heavier, so we need to cover the ones who aren’t as mobile while they cross the river, just in case.”

“I see,” Firecracker noted, and then fell silent as she watched more BattleMechs tromp out from the trees, one after another. First came Griffin’s Assassin, which ran out from cover only a few dozen meters before the MechWarrior within triggered the jump jets. The fast medium design looked especially unnerving as it flew, given that the hunched down head and surprisingly stocky body looked even more alien to pony eyes than other humanlike designs. Yet the way it moves is surprisingly elegant, Burst admitted to herself, while she watched the ‘Mech alight on the west riverbank and then spin to run off towards the south, further downriver before it disappeared into the woods.

David Silva and his Centurion appeared after that and the heavily-retrofitted design sprung into the air on its own jets and landed off to the north, before it too turned to find a position. After this both Mendoza’s Commando and Shepard’s Grand Dragon breached the far side’s canopy and then plunged into the river, as neither had jump jets. Because of this they stayed in view much longer and didn’t move quite as fast, which let Firecracker Burst take a good, long look at the battle damage they had accrued. Huge gouges, holes, and lines of melted metal all over them, the unicorn noted with a grimace. If a beast had that kind of appearance you’d feel sorry for it. The very thought of such powerful machines rendered so heavily damaged drove home the immensity of power that human weapons had available, and Burst felt a bit proud that her shields had lasted as much as they did. But I can’t help but feel a bit humble as well, she noted, as both the Commando and Grand Dragon finished their fording and broke off to take up positions. My shield lasted, but in the end I can’t do it for very long. These things can take the same pounding and yet still stay working. It’s amazing what these aliens can do without a lick of magic, let alone what we can do together.

Firecracker was broken out of her reverie by the appearance of Rebecca McKenna’s Warhammer, and though the broad-chested design had seen better days, its armor looked better off than most of the other ‘mechs that had passed by. Though it still looks like it took a trip through Tartarus, Burst morosely noted.

Burst saw why a moment later, as a wave of laser and particle cannon fire ripped through the foliage and slammed into the 70-tonne ‘Mech, only for most of it to be bent aside or denuded by a shield that popped into life at the last second. What damage was incurred hit mainly along the legs, and though the ‘Mech staggered, Rebecca’s piloting managed to keep it upright and moving forward, even as she swung the hips out and used the shift in mass to help spin the Warhammer around and halt with its back to the river. Now with its weapons and armor facing towards the threat, the machine began to back up, even as the pilot fired both particle cannons back into the woods.

* * * *

“Enemy Detected.”

“No shit,” Rebecca McKenna grumbled back to her computer, even as she jostled her targeting reticles over the projected outline of an Enforcer that her ‘mech’s sensors painted on her HUD. Her aim was hurried, however, as she was distracted with the maneuvering of her ‘Mech, and thus she missed with both of her particle cannons. Heat flooded the cockpit as the cooling systems were briefly overwhelmed. Rebecca felt sweat start to swell from the pores on her skin only for the small droplets to evaporate in the sweltering compartment, though the sensation was brief as the Warhammer’s double-strength heat sinks kicked in and soon dumped most of the waste heat outside of the ‘mech. So efficient were they that the instant the Warhammer’s feet touched the mud of the riverbank steam rose from its prints and the machine left behind dried dirt in its tracks.

Not that the matron McKenna noted this, as she was too busy cursing the fact that her shots had missed. Still, at least it spooked him, she thought, as she watched the Enforcer’s outline fade as its pilot backed up to break solid contact. Before she could even consider her next move, though, Rebecca heard the all too familiar warning tone of missile lock-on, and a glance to her HUD showed several trails of LRMs arcing down at her. “Incoming!” she shouted for the benefit of her passenger.

Rocky Road didn’t verbally reply, but nevertheless did respond as he cast his shield once again. The next few seconds were a sea of pain as he struggled to maintain the shielding spell against the clusters of high-explosive warheads. Sadly his concentration was not enough to perfectly maintain the link between his magic reserves and the spell matrix, and so several missiles passed through the shield as it phased in and out of existence to blast armor off of the Warhammer’s chest. A moment later the barrage ended, and Rocky Road opened his eyes to glance at the cockpit mirror. “Sorry,” he muttered, sadly.

“You did good Rocky,” Rebecca replied, while she continued to guide her ‘mech to walk backwards into the river. “This thing’s armored for a reason, after all.”

“Yeah,” Road agreed, and then shook his head. “But magic regenerates, the armor doesn’t.”

Rebecca didn’t have anything to say to that, so she kept silent and instead focused on keeping her ‘Mech moving without falling over in the surprisingly deep and fast-flowing river, while still moving backwards and scanning her HUD and sensor readouts all at the same time. And the mudfoot thinks we have it easy, she wryly mused.

Thankfully the rest of the crossing was uncontested, and soon enough Rebecca had her Warhammer in a position to watch the ford from inside the cover of the western forest canopy. “Alright everyone, sound off,” she called over the radio, on the company-wide channel.

“Three here, still blasted halfway to Hell and my passenger is too spent to throw up another shield,” Schneider responded first.

“Five here,” Earl Delacroix chimed in. “I’m down to one-third ammo on my missiles, but my armor hasn’t taken much of a beating, and my rider’s good to go.”

“Six calling,” David Silva spoke next. “I’m down to half load on my ammo and I’ve lost about twenty percent armor across the board. My rider’s getting tired but she says she can keep going for a little more.”

“Seven here,” Tania Griffin replied. “I’ve managed to avoid most damage and I’ve still got sixty percent ammo,” she reported. Unlike most of the other Dark Horse ‘Mechs, her Assassin couldn’t carry a passenger, and so she had no pony to report on.

“Eight responding,” Alexis Shepard spoke. “I’ve lost about thirty-five percent armor, down to half ammo on my LRMs. Wash says he’s good for a few rounds more, but not much beyond that.”

“Nine here,” came the voice of Franz Mendoza. “I’ve gotten one Hell of a beating, almost no protection left, and I’m down to two salvoes of SRMs,” he reported. Like Griffin, his ‘Mech couldn’t carry a passenger and so his response ended there.

“Blackfoot reporting,” Ivan chimed in. “Rear position still secure, no threats apparent.”

“Actual here,” came the voice of James McKenna, and Rebecca startled as she had forgotten he was closing in. “We’re one klick out and closing, but don’t wait on us; initiate Case Zulu.”

Rebecca frowned as she heard that, and then triggered her radio. “Are you sure, Jim? You might not have enough of a jump distance to get across the river, I’m not leaving you behind,” she stated, firmly.

“You won’t,” the male McKenna replied. “Even if my jets can’t get us across, my passenger says she can probably replicate her fancy trick that got us out here in the first place if she needs to, so we’ve got our ticket one way or the other. Besides, Starbuck did say it’ll take them a bit of time to get Zulu running.”

A moment of relative silence passed as Rebecca bit her lip in contemplation. Finally, though, she sighed. “Alright, but you had better make it through, Jim, because otherwise I’ll drag you back from Hell and stick your corpse in a cockpit.”

James’ laugh was a pleasant diversion for the second it lasted. “Yes, dear,” he replied, in a somewhat facetious tone of voice. His next words, however, were spoken with clear, commanding clarity. “Hold the river until Zulu gets going. After that fade back to the rearm point and see if McCoy can’t work miracles.”

“About that,” Rebecca said, with a grimace on her face that managed to be reflected in her tone. “Those damn changelings attacked the rearm point. McCoy’s going to need all the time he’s got just to pack up stuff and get the survivors heading back to Canterlot.”

A long period of silence met that, and was broken by James’ next word: “Fuck,” he muttered, and then sighed. “Alright, get on the horn with Stonewall and Starbuck and have them fall back to the capitol. If we can’t regroup in the field we’ll all meet there.”

“Understood, Actual,” Rebecca replied. “You should probably get off the channel now before O’Connell huff-duffs you before you can make it across.”

“That’s the plan,” James replied. “Take care, Rebecca.”

“You too, Jim,” she replied, and then took a moment to collect her thoughts. When she spoke again over the company channel, her tone was authoritative once more. “Alright boys and girls, you heard the boss. Keep overwatch on the river until Zulu is activated, then fall back. If you get lost, rendezvous at Canterlot. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” sounded a chorus.

* * * *

“It’s gotten a bit quiet, don’t you think?”

The mare who was asked this groaned and rolled her eyes, and then turned around to face the stallion who’d spoken. “Are you seriously going to ask that?” she countered. “Are you trying to invoke casual irony?”

The flat gray stallion gave her a deadpan stare. “I’m pretty sure we’re in a bit too deep for any irony to be casual at this point, Hellcat,” he replied.

“Oh c’mon, D,” a second mare, smaller than the others, said from where she stood next to the stallion, and then nudged him in the side with an elbow. “Relax already, ‘Cat’s got all this planned. Don’t ya, ‘Cat?” she asked, as she turned her eyes to the dark blue pony in front of her.

A snort was the immediate answer. “My plan? You think I’d come up with something this insane?” Hellcat retorted, and then shook her head, causing the blood red braid of her mane to bounce back and forth. “This is aaaaalll from Canterlot, Val, and everything that implies.”

Val frowned, and then stuck her tongue out in disgust; an easily notable gesture, as the abrupt change from a white coat to a black muzzle tended to draw eyes to the area. “Ugh. Remind me to bug my cousin about letting Canterlot dictate our operations.”

“I hate to play devil’s advocate, especially for bureaucratic numbskulls,” the stallion interrupted, and then paused as both mares turned their attentions to him. “But we are kind of in a war situation, after all. Somepony’s gotta organize things amongst all the service branches.”

“Bah,” Hellcat said, and then turned to look over the area they were in. Several large banks of heavily-laden stormclouds filled the nearby sky, and the trio was on top of the southernmost, facing south towards the battlefield where Equestria and her allies had engaged the invaders. Not that we can see much from way out here, the mare thought, as she squinted and looked off into the distance. I can make out some smoke clouds, but aside from that the only thing we could see were those flying machines nailing the crap out of each other, at least before they flew straight up and kind of disappeared. Sure did make some bright lights, though.

Speaking of bright lights, she noted, as a multi-colored blur raced to the north from the direction of the battle. The various ponies waiting on the cloud tensed up as it approached, but soon relaxed when they saw the distinctive rainbow coloration of the approaching pegasus. Hardly a pony in the Corps doesn’t know who Rainbow Dash is, Hellcat mused.

The aforementioned pegasus rapidly slowed to a halt, and then looked out at the ponies she had only heard about, but never met until then. “So, you guys are the Weather Corps, huh?” she asked, as she hovered and looked over not only the three ponies up front, but the large groups of other pegasi standing by on the other clouds in the massive cluster that had been set up.

“Well, we’re sure as shit not griffins,” Hellcat gruffly observed.

Rainbow Dash grunted at that, and then nodded. “Yeah yeah. Anyway, commander McKenna says it’s time for that Zulu thing, so you guys know what to do, right?”

“Pretty sure,” Hellcat replied, evenly. “We make it rain on the Hose creek tributary to the Glitterfalls river and get a flash flood going; easy work for us.”

“Good,” Dash said, with a nod. She then looked around again, this time to take in the area around the cloud banks. “You guys haven’t had any griffin problems, right? You’re pretty far from the fight out here, but everypony’s concerned for you.”

Hellcat huffed. “We’re not pansies who need our hooves held,” she answered. “We can handle whatever comes our way.”

Rainbow frowned, but before she could say anything a patch of cloud behind Hellcat, near where Val stood, ruffled, then bulged, and then finally burst open as an eagle-like head popped up. Dash recognized it as a griffin immediately and her eyes widened, yet before she could shift her body to point her SMG mount at it, the tom looked at her with a panicked expression and spoke: “Help me,” he begged.

Dash could only hover in surprise and confusion as she processed the scene. Barely had she done so when Val brought up a white hoof, placed it on the griffin’s head, and then shoved him back down into the cloud and out of sight. The white, black-muzzled mare then simply looked at Rainbow Dash with a friendly, yet disturbing smile that was rendered all the more creepy by the way the bright red bangs of her mane framed her face.

Silence fell over the group for a moment, but soon enough Rainbow Dash recovered and pointed a foreleg to where Val kept a hoof on the twitching cloud. “What the Hell was that?” she asked, so astounded that she used a human swear word.

“What was what?” Val innocently asked back, still with her unnerving smile.

Another moment of silence fell over them as Dash looked at the three ponies closest to her. Hellcat looked back with a neutral expression, Val remained eerily cheerful despite the slowing struggles of the cloud underneath her, and the stallion simply looked up at her with a dopey grin on his face. “Yeeeahhh,” Rainbow said, slowly, and then shifted her flapping so she could gradually float backwards and away from the other pegasi. “I’ll just let you guys get working on that Zulu thing while I go back to the battle,” she said.

“Sounds good to me,” Hellcat replied, evenly. “Take care, dame Rainbow,” she added, with a foreleg salute.

“Er, thanks,” Dash replied, with a bit of a blush on her face. She then returned the salute. “You too,” she said, and then promptly spun around and then idiomatically darted away.

Hellcat watched her zoom off into the distance, and then turned around and glared at the other ponies on the cloud. “Could you two possibly be more embarrassing?” she sarcastically growled.

“What?” the stallion asked, as he blinked his gaze clear. “What did I do?”

“You stared at Rainbow Dash like a deluded fanboy,” Hellcat replied, flatly.

“You weren’t even looking at me!” the male retorted.

“She didn’t need to, Dauntless,” Val replied, and then stretched out a wing to poke the stallion in the side with a primary. “We all know you have a crush on Rainbow Dash a mile wide.”

Dauntless blushed, and then huffed. “At least I’m not domming a luckless griffin scout out where everypony can see,” he shot back.

“Enough!” Hellcat ordered, and then placed her fetlock over the bridge of her muzzle and sighed. “Just spread out and tell everypony to get to work. We’ve got a job to do and it’s critically important that we do it with all due speed and precision,” she ordered, as she brought her hoof back down.

Both of the addressed ponies shifted into serious expressions at that, and then saluted. “Yes ma’am!” they said, and then took off and split up to deliver the news to the other waiting groups of pegasi.

A moment after they left, the griffin pushed his head up and out of the cloud again, and then took in deep breaths before he turned to look at the remaining pony. “Can I go now?” he asked, pleadingly.

Hellcat shook her head. “Sorry, tommy, but we can’t let you get loose to tell your friends what’s going on,” she said, and then walked up and pressed a hoof on top of the griffin’s head. “But look on the bright side: there are worse fates than Val’s libido. Not many, I’ll grant you, but they’re there,” she said, and then slowly started to shove his head back under the cloud. “And now be a good boy and go back in your hole; I’ve work to do.”

* * * *

“Heads up,” a voice spoke into David Silva’s ear, and the young MechWarrior glanced up from an MFD he had been studying to his HUD. “Looks like they’ve gathered for a push,” the voice of Johannes Schneider added, even as icons began to pop up on the Centurion’s sensors.

“Well, this going to suck,” Silva noted, as he briefly took his hands from his controls so he could move his arms up and out so he could stretch the sore muscles and shake the limbs to get blood flowing again.

“Hasn’t it been sucking for a while now?” the voice of his unicorn passenger asked.

David stifled a rueful chuckle at that, as though he lacked a mirror to cast his gaze at the pony in the jump seat behind him, he could easily visualize his companion’s sour expression. “Yes it has,” he agreed, and then sighed. “But it’s going to get worse, now that they’re going to come at us with everything they’ve got.”

A snort sounded from behind him. “As if they haven’t been doing that already,” the mare behind him spoke, morosely. “At this rate of magic depletion I’ll be unable to muster a shield up after approximately four point seven barrages.”

“So you told me earlier, Moondancer,” Silva evenly noted, despite the unicorn’s sullen tone. She seems like a nice enough person, just a bit autistic, he mused. “Just do your best and I’ll do mine, and we’ll see what happens.”

A grunt was the only answer he received. Silva put it out of his mind, though, as the first lights on his command console’s EW panel lit up to indicate enemy sensor locks. Not targeting locks yet, but they know where I am, the MechWarrior thought, as he studied the opposition across the river. Through his cockpit’s ferroglass canopy and HUD he managed to make out the shapes of three medium-class ‘Mechs emerging from the forest and into the open flats of the riverbank: Looks like we’ve got a Trebuchet, Blackjack, and a Whitworth, he noted. Individually I could take ‘em on, but massed like this is going to be a problem.

It was at that moment that the enemy forces locked on, and Silva grimaced as he saw scores of missiles flying towards his battle-worn ‘mech. Even as he did, though, Moondancer reacted to the warning tones from the battle computer and quickly set her shield up around the Centurion. The missiles hit scarcely a millisecond later, and most of them blatted against the magic defense, with only a few slipping through the desynch phase to blast chunks of armor off of the 50-tonne ‘Mech’s chest and legs.

Next came the Blackjack’s autocannons, and though they were lightweight in the damage department they still managed to punch a few shells through to chew up some protection on Silva’s ‘Mech’s right arm. Finally, the wave of medium lasers reached out, though here some luck came David’s way as at this range fully half the weapons missed outright. Five managed to hit, though, and managed to push enough energy through the Equestrian shield to slag the last of the protection off of the Centurion’s left torso before one errant beam managed to reach in and destroy the LRM rack located there after working over some of the support struts.

Fortunately the weapon system had already emptied as Silva’s counterattack had been launched. His LRMs had already soared out to batter the Trebuchet, while his PPC and medium laser had the unfortunate timing to miss, mainly due to the shuddering of the Centurion as it was battered. Heat flooded the cockpit as the fusion reactor spiked to provide power to the energy weapons and the weapons themselves released amazing amounts of waste heat into the ‘Mech’s internal structure. Thank God for cooling vests, Silva mused, as he felt the crawling sensation of fluid rushing through the vest, since only the thinnest of material separated his skin from the fluid in order to allow the device to efficiently siphon thermal energy from his body. Thanks to this he and his passenger would not have to suffer heat stroke before the Centurion’s heat sinks could dissipate most of the heat into the environment.

David Silva, though, thought little about this as he cursed at the loss of one of his more powerful weapon systems. “Damn!” he growled, and then checked the three-hundred sixty degree holographic projection his HUD provided to check the area. What he saw was disheartening, as in that exchange the Dark Horse had suffered significant damage, or so he could make out as he had set his battle computer to display an approximate status of his allies and enemies with a roughly-calculated percentage tagged to each ‘Mech that showed its level of damage, or rather the lack thereof. Shit, everyone’s at seventy or below, and Franz… oh Hell, he didn’t...?

* * * *

Franz Mendoza was not a happy man as he stared at the forces arrayed against him and his cohort. What do they call it when you take out a third of the enemy but he still outnumbers you two to one? he darkly mused. Oh, right, ‘you’re fucked’.

His pessimism was not unfounded: as the pilot of a light ‘Mech he had little ‘tactical reserve’, as one of his instructors once put it. I.e. you can’t take much punishment and you can’t dish it out and so you don’t have much to do other than scout and harry, Mendoza mused. Which means this stand and hold crap might be the end of me.

A glance over his HUD and the tactical display on an MFD showed Mendoza a clear picture of the tactical situation. And it ain’t pretty, he thought. His Commando had been the flank guard for the Dark Horse and Equestrian army, given the fact that it was fast and carried an appreciable amount of firepower with its custom loadout of lasers and SRMs. Several surviving Desperado light ‘Mechs had learned how potent this mix had been when they got too close and received a thorough drubbing for it when they tried to circle around behind the DHB’s line. None of them got downed, though, Mendoza remembered, with a frown. And they gave as good as they got, he added, as he glanced to his armor status readout. A sneeze could take me out right about now, and we’ve still got to hold the river for a few more minutes; not the best situation to be in.

At least Rebecca is smart enough to know that, though, Mendoza further mused, as he looked over his tactical map again. I’m back behind the line with Earl to keep him safe and watch the others’ backs, which is just about all I’m good for at the moment. Damn those changelings and their raid, re-armoring and arming would be a Godsend to me about now.

His musings were cut short as warning tones sounded in his ears, and Mendoza looked up to see the icons of enemy ‘Mechs moving on his HUD. Well, here comes the push, he thought, as he saw the two heaviest ‘Mechs the enemy had at the center of the line, just across the river. A Battlemaster and a Marauder, not good; either one of them out-mass Rebecca’s Warhammer alone, and combined they’ll be damn hard to beat. Even as he noted this, the MechWarrior pushed his throttle forward and started to advance to back up the company’s second in command. She goes down and we all go down. Conversely, take out O’Connell and his Battlemaster and we might have a win after all.

Delacroix seemed to think so as well, as his Catapult swung its torso around and then launched a barrage of long-range missiles over the head of Mendoza’s 25-tonner to reach out and blast armor off of the Battlemaster. The broad-chested humanoid ‘Mech recoiled a bit, but soon shook it off as O’Connell brought his guns to bear on Rebecca McKenna’s Warhammer. The enemy’s PPC fired first, followed by the array of medium lasers and the SRM rack, and all but one of the weapons hit, the sole miscreant one of the four lasers. A shield popped up around the heavy ‘mech just before the Desperado leader fired, and as such the fusillade lost much of its punch, but what did get through managed to slag sheets of armor from the Warhammer’s barrel arms and flat chest.

Then the Marauder fired, and both of its PPCs lashed out, followed quickly by its medium lasers and autocannon. One PPC missed, but the other weapons smashed into the fading vestiges of the pony-generated shield and blasted right through to rip off chunks of armor from the legs, arms, and torso.

Rebecca, though, had been fighting back even as her ‘Mech was savaged, and both of her Clan-tech ER PPCs ripped into the Battlemaster’s chest with raw, unmitigated fury, slagging huge chunks of protection from the assault ‘Mech’s right arm and center torso. The pulse lasers spoke next, and every single one of them peppered the front of O’Connell’s ‘mech with pockmarks of armor melted and holed with the deadly precision of focused light, while their beam trails flashed into and out of existence so fast that some pilots described the effect as “the Devil’s Strobelight”.

Mendoza was confused for a moment that Rebecca didn’t add in her SRMs or machine guns, but then he came to a realization: She’s got a Streak system, it won’t fire without a solid lock, he remembered. And the distance is too great for machine gun rounds to have enough velocity to actually damage ‘mech armor. He pushed such thoughts from his mind, though, as his Commando’s loping strides brought him within weapons range. Franz briefly slowed so that he could bring up the arms and the lasers contained within before he fired, though his aim was a bit off from the sudden rush. Only one of the three medium-class lasers managed to hit the Battlemaster, scoring armor off of the right leg. His SRM rack likewise only managed to land three of the six missiles in its salvo on target, though they added to the impressive damage on the enemy’s chest.

Franz’s actions didn’t come without a cost, however, as his light ‘Mech’s cooling system was unable to keep up with the massive buildup of heat from his weapons and reactor, and the climate in his cockpit went from room temperature to sauna in seconds. It cost them as well, he noted, as he saw the air ripple around the three ‘mechs he was focused on. Everyone went alpha-strike to try and finish each other off, and now we’re all overheating. But our ‘Mechs are upgraded and can take it better than they can, at least for now.

His musings were interrupted, though, as his battle computer sounded an alarm, and his HUD displayed the incoming traces of LRM fire. O’Connell certainly loves his fire support, Mendoza noted, even as he braced for impact. Then the LRMs hit and the Commando shook like a leaf in a hurricane as waves of high explosives battered and bashed in whatever armor was left on the ‘Mech, and then began to work at the internal structure. More alarms blared as components were destroyed in the ruinous rain of death, and the noise of tortured metal managed to rise above the cacophony of detonating warheads.

Then as suddenly as it began, the fire stopped, and Mendoza had a moment of silence before he felt his stomach try to escape via his mouth, which only ended when the Commando finished its fall to the ground with an abrupt impact that rang bells in Franz’s ears. He blinked a few times to clear his mind, and then checked his HUD, only to see it gone and the view outside the canopy filled with nothing but dirt and mud. Okay, this thing’s face-down; that would explain why the straps are digging into my chest, Mendoza noted. A glance to his command console revealed no light or life from his machine at all, save for one MFD which displayed the caption: Reactor Damage Critical: SCRAM Engaged.

Well, that explains why I’ve got nothing but backup power, Mendoza thought, and then suddenly froze as he remembered where he was and what he had been doing. “Shit,” he said, and then began to rapidly work at detaching his cooling vest and med sensors from the command console, even as the sounds of battle and marching BattleMechs filtered in through the cockpit. He then unlatched the straps holding his neurohelmet on and let the device fall down to land on the canopy ferroglass, and only after that did he start to carefully work on unstrapping himself from his seat so as to not join his helmet in embracing gravity so eagerly. Once free he rotated in his seat and let his legs land on the command console, and then went about the time-consuming but necessary task of climbing up and over the side of his command couch so he could make it to his emergency survival kit, and thence the main entrance/egress hatch built into the back of the Commando’s head.

He opened the hatch and shoved his kit out and over the edge, whereupon Franz heard it drop to the ground. He then climbed up and over the edge and paused to take in the scene around him. The situation did not look good to him, as he watched another exchange of fire between O’Connell’s Battlemaster and Rebecca’s Warhammer. Both MechWarriors were conserving some of their firepower this time out of deference to their heat levels, but what fury was unleashed across the Glitterfalls river ravaged armor on both sides. The enemy Marauder, though, had its attention distracted as Earl Delacroix had rushed forward as well and was even now engaging it with point-blank LRM barrages and laser fire from the upgraded ER Medium Lasers mounted in the Catapult’s torso. The enemy fired back with only its lasers and autocannon, but even then Mendoza could see parts of the machine glowing red as its heat sinks struggled with the thermal buildup, and the relatively low-power weapons were easily turned aside by Earl’s unicorn passenger’s shield.

Franz looked up and down the river at that point, and then grimaced as he saw similar scenes playing out up and down the bend in the river. For every Dark Horse ‘Mech that fired, two or three Desperadoes fired back, and despite the advantage in technology the enemy's numbers were starting to overwhelm the ponies’ shields and human armor. The Desperadoes seemed to recognize this, and were even now pushing forward slowly, advancing into the river and using the cooling effect of the water to keep their ‘Mechs from overheating as they pressed the Dark Horse.

At that point a stray missile landed nearby and blasted a crater in the ground a few meters from the downed Commando. Okay enough watching time to go, Mendoza told himself, as he promptly pulled himself out of the cockpit hatch and then hung from the edge by his hands before he let go and dropped the last bit of distance to the ground. His plasteel boots slammed into the dirt a second later, and a second after that Franz had grabbed his survival kit and ran towards the rear. Not going to distract anyone with a pickup call right now, he thought, as ran for the cover of the woods. Hope someone’s going to be left to make the call to, though.

* * * *

Twilight Sparkle held her eyes closed in an attempt to fight off nausea as James McKenna’s Highlander ran at full speed through the forest. This thing was almost soothing to ride in on the march out here, she wryly mused. But at full speed I feel like I’m in a can of paint being shaken up.

“Last ridge, Twilight,” the voice of the human pilot said to her, and the unicorn opened her eyes to look out through the ferroglass canopy as trees seemed to fly by on either side, seemingly dodged with little effort from McKenna’s deft hand. A few smaller ones were smashed aside or trampled underfoot by the massive assault ‘Mech, though, and again Twilight was struck by the odd dichotomy that humans seemed to possess: elegance and brute force, sophistication and savagery, all in one.

Her thoughts halted then, as the 90-tonne ‘Mech crested a smaller ridgeline, and then paused at the top. The reason for this became apparent to the pony as she had a clear view of McKenna’s HUD, and thus could see, as he did, the various icons and status indicators as they were painted in mid-air holograms by the battle computer. “Sweet heavens,” she muttered, as she noted the Dark Horse’s numbers had declined and the ones who were left were showed to have had their protection ravaged by enemy action. Even at the five hundred meter distance that separated the Highlander from the fight could not hide the large rents in the armor from Twilight’s gaze.

Then as quickly as they had stopped, James sent the ‘Mech barreling forward again, down the small ridge and then into the woods that lay between it and the Glitterfalls river. “Are you ready to do that trick you mentioned?” the human asked. His attention was still very much focused on his piloting, yet still managed to spare a glance over to his passenger.

Twilight swallowed before she spoke. “I believe I can,” she said, unsure. “I mean, I’m not sure how I got so much range, but I’m pretty sure that was a regular teleport, just with so much more mass I’m honestly sur—”

“Twilight,” James interrupted, with a faint growl. “I’ll listen to the lecture later, just simple answers in combat, please.”

Chagrined, the unicorn took in a breath before she answered: “Mostly sure, but I’d appreciate it if we not have to test it out with our lives depending on it,” Twilight said, surprisingly even. I guess I’m getting used to this, sadly.

“Duly noted,” James McKenna replied, and then narrowed his eyes as warning icons began to pop up on his HUD. “Pity we won’t have that shield of yours while you’re ready to do that,” he added, as he referred to the prohibition Twilight and he had spoken about on their way back to the fight.

“Unfortunately,” Sparkle agreed. She opened her mouth to say more, but was interrupted again as warning tones sounded in the cockpit. “I guess they know we’re here, then?” she asked.

“Unfortunately,” James echoed. “Hold onto your tail, Sparky.”

* * * *

“Bogey behind us!” a voice sounded in Gregory Kilroy’s ear, and the MechWarrior flinched as he tore his eyes off of the Catapult he’d been dueling with to look at the portion of the HUD that showed the rear facing of his ‘mech.

“How the Hell did he get there?” Kilroy muttered briefly, but then snapped back to the present as another pounding of medium laser fire slagged armor plating off of his Marauder’s legs and torso. Furious, he lashed back with one of his PPCs, his autocannon, and both medium lasers. The torso-mounted class-five cannon missed and sent its rounds blasting into the distance, but the arm-mounted PPC and medium lasers were able to use the greater degree of flexibility of their mounts to track the Catapult better. Still, their fury was abated somewhat as the shield around the Dark Horse ‘Mech absorbed half of the energy going through it and so what could have been great troughs in the heavy ‘Mech’s protection turned into moderate wounds, instead.

“Grant, turn your lance around and engage that Highlander,” Kilroy ordered, his voice a bit strained as the heat levels remained high in his cockpit. I ought to correct that, he mused, and then pushed his throttle forward a bit to march out into the river the two sides had been treating as no-man’s-land. The temperatures dropped almost as soon as the legs plunged into the water, as the thick, flowing liquid easily absorbed more heat from the cooling system than air by itself could, and small clouds of steam rose up from where the ‘Mech met river.

“Are you kidding?” the man he had addressed returned. “My boys and I are still trying to pin down that Assassin, and besides that we’re only a pursuit lance, not a battle lance!”

“Someone needs to keep McKenna from shooting up our backsides!” Kilroy returned, even as he alighted his ‘mech’s odd-looking arms—“boxes at the end of spaghetti” an observer once noted—with the Catapult and fired again. Both PPCs reached out to slam their beams into the forward-jutting cylindrical torso, and though denuded by the shield, still managed to rip apart armor on the ‘mech’s left side and wear it down to paper-thinness. “And you’re the only ones I can spare for now! Besides, you did well enough against that Atlas.”

“Fuck,” Grant said, and then sighed. “Copy, moving to engage,” he added, and then dropped off the channel to relay the orders to his lance. Gregory watched the results play out on the HUD moments later, as the Desperadoes’ advanced-tech Centurion, Wolfhound, and two Commandos turned around and disengaged from the cat-and-mouse sniping game they had been playing with the Dark Horse Assassin and its ECM.

Kilroy had his attention redirected back forward as O’Connell traded another round of shots with the Dark Horse’s Warhammer, and the spectacle of two heavyweights pounding the living daylights out of each other was enough to give him pause. Particle streams, laser beam-trails, and machine gun tracers criss-crossed the air between the two ‘Mechs, and armor was blasted, melted, or shattered under the fury. A Warhammer isn’t as armored as a Battlemaster, though, Kilroy noted, even as he switched his focus back to the Catapult, which had started to back away. Soon enough we’ll wear them all down and then nothing will stand in our way. And with that, he fired his particle cannons again. Only one of the shots landed on the Catapult, and its effect was minimal as the weapon hit low against a leg, and was denuded by the magic shield anyway. But it still was better than the fire that came back, as the Dark Horse MechWarrior seemed more intent in backing away than aiming, and only one laser hit to cut a trough through the Marauder’s central torso armor.

Huh, didn’t heat up as much this time, Gregory mused, even as he pushed his throttle forward to keep pressure on his foe. He found out the reason an instant later when his ‘mech responded sluggishly, and he snapped out of his tunnel vision to look down and realize that the river had deepened considerably. Odd, wasn’t it just up to my ‘Mech’s lower actuators before? Now it’s up to the hips. Confused, he took a moment to scan around, and to his surprise he saw that the river’s flow and level and both increased considerably.

“What the Hell?” he asked, confused. Then his eyes widened as he looked upstream and saw a wall of water approaching.

* * * *

“Are you sure we needed to pulse the rainfall like that?” Dauntless asked, as he stood on top of the last thunderhead, sweating and panting a bit at the last rush of work.

“Probably not,” Hellcat replied, a bit out of breath herself. “But they did say they wanted it to flood fast and damn the ecology, so we might as well dump it all now so we can go home sooner.”

“Heh, typical government worker,” Dauntless teased, with a smirk.

“Takes one to know one,” Hellcat merrily shot back, with a grin on her muzzle. “Now c’mon, let’s go find Val and her boytoy and get the crew back to Cloudsdale.”

* * * *

“Out of the river!” Kilroy called over the common radio channel, even as he pulled back on his throttle so hard he thought it might snap off in his hand. “Everyone get out of the river, now!”

The warning came too late for a few of the Desperadoes, and several ‘mechs were swamped and knocked over by the rushing water. The flow did not abate, and even seemed to increase a bit and so the ‘Mechs caught in the river’s grasp were soon being dragged downstream. Kilroy himself barely managed to pull his Marauder back far enough to avoid the worst of it, but he still had to fight a constant battle to keep the flash flood from knocking the 75-tonner over.

“What the Hell is going on?” Garth O’Connell demanded, his voice an overpowering bellow over the common frequency.

“Maybe they blew up a dam upriver,” Kilroy suggested, even as he kept backing up the now inundated banks of the river. The water was still rising, filling the small valley the river had carved for itself. And it’s making a wide, fast-flowing barrier between us and the main body of the enemy, Kilroy noted.

But not everyone, Kilroy remembered, and then checked his HUD. “Well, we’ll still get McKenna, boss,” he added.

O’Connell’s initial answer was a feral growl. “Looks like he mistimed his approach,” the Desperadoes’ commander said, by way of agreement. “Everyone who isn’t pulling themselves from the river, get that Highlander!”

* * * *

“Ow,” James muttered, as a wave of cluster autocannon rounds and LRMs sanded armor from the torso and arms of his ‘mech.

“I thought you didn’t have tactile feedback?” Twilight asked. Despite the situation, or perhaps because of it, the two kept conversing even as the human MechWarrior kept his 90-tonne war machine rampaging forward.

“I don’t,” McKenna replied, even as he fired a half-aimed gauss rifle round back at the Centurion that had fired at him. The shot missed and blasted a crater into the ground next to the medium ‘Mech. It did seem to rattle the enemy pilot some, though, as his next round of shots missed wide. “But it’s a bad habit I’ve gotten into, sympathizing with my ride, so I say ‘ow’ when it gets hit at times.”

Twilight didn’t have a reply to that, and so fell silent as she watched the situation she was in play out. And I have precious little I can do about it at the moment, she wryly noted, as she kept her gaze focused on the HUD. Although she had not undergone training, the day of combat and another of travel in the Highlander had given the studious pony time to learn how to read the compressed data almost as clearly as a MechWarrior could, and the situation she saw was grim. Four fast ‘Mechs intercepted us and are keeping pace, even as we trade shots in some kind of weird running battle through the middle of the forest, Twilight noted. And it looks like the others are turning around to shoot at us now that the river ahead is flooding.

A part of her had cheered as the wall of water rushed through, followed by a dramatic increase in the flow and level of the Glitterfalls river. At the same time, though, she felt fear as now the survival of the two beings inside the Highlander rested on her withers. I hope I’m not biting off more than I can chew with this, Twilight worried, while the ‘Mech shook with the furious thuds of its footfalls and the blistering attacks of the enemies dogging their steps. Even worse was the fact that several missile streams and laser trails came burning in from the enemies now deprived of their original targets and aching for some kind of revenge. Fortunately the distance, the woods, and the speed that the various ‘mechs were travelling at all made their shots highly inaccurate, but a few landed and continued to peck away at the thinning armor protection.

McKenna, for his part, was doing all he could to keep the Highlander upright and moving forward at speed. Any time a tree would loom in their path, or the attacks of the enemy started to thicken, James would twist in his seat to feed information to the machine’s motive systems. As a result the assault ‘Mech moved with a fluid agility that belied its mass and inorganic construction, and Twilight Sparkle once again found herself in awe at the spectacle.

“You ready, Twilight?” James McKenna’s voice sounded just then. Twilight shook her head a bit and broke out of her brief reverie to look out through the canopy and saw that they were almost at the edge of the swollen river, which had risen up into the woods.

“I’ll need a moment to concentrate,” Twilight said, as McKenna slowed the machine down, and then turned it around to face the heavier, frontal armor towards their foes.

“Take your time,” James replied, with a bit of sarcasm.

Twilight understood the pressure that gave the human’s voice an edge, and so ignored it. Instead she shut her eyes and did her best to tune out the wails of target lock-on warnings, the impact of weapons, and the varying heat levels in the cockpit as James returned fire. The last time I did this I had to do it with Celestia’s tutelage in a calm garden, but times are what they are, Twilight thought, as she delved deep into herself and sought her connection to the Binding. I know that I don’t have the sort of magical power in me to move something so big so far, not normally. It had to come from elsewhere.

Despite the situation, Twilight found it remarkably easy to home in on the thread that connected her to her magic. Or so she thought, as a moment later she gasped aloud and nearly lost her concentration. What, what is this? The Binding… it’s… different. It’s not a lattice of lines, but a plain? Plane? Which spelling sh—

“Any time now, Sparky!” James McKenna fairly shouted, and for a moment Twilight lost her concentration as the combination of his voice and the impact of a heavy weapon disturbed her.

“Working on it!” she replied, and then screwed her eyes shut again. Whatever has happened I can look at it later, right now I need power! With that, she forced her mind to retrace her steps, and soon enough had the view again. No lines, so how do I draw? You know what, screw it! I’m about to die anyway so here goes nothing! And with that she forced her will to plunge into the roiling mass of energy.

* * * *

“Finally going to end you,” Garth O’Connell growled out, even as he jostled the targeting reticules of his weapons over the head of the surprisingly still Highlander. As he did, though, a brilliant white light seemed to fill the enemy’s cockpit and streamed outward so brilliantly that O’Connell had to flinch his eyes away in pain.

“Caution, EMP Detected,” his ‘mech’s battle computer announced. O’Connell blinked his eyes and then looked forward.

“No,” he muttered, as he saw that his archenemy had once again escaped. “Damn you to Hell, James McKenna, and all the stupid horses helping you!”

Chapter 20 - Recovery

View Online

Whitetail Woods, Equestria

September 27th, AD 3070/1023 RC

The first thing Twilight Sparkle became aware of as she began to ascend from unconsciousness was the rhythmic thumping that jostled her body. Once this was understood, her mind quickly began its arduous task of restarting. Soon the unicorn realized that she still felt the cool, almost cold sensation of the cooling vest siphoning heat from her body, and the tug of safety straps that kept her secured within her seat. Then the thumps became more distinct as her ears twitched and heard the now-familiar muted thuds of the Highlander's footfalls, overlaid by the whirring of the cockpit's life support equipment and the soft hum of the command console's electronics.

Memories of the recent past started to filter into Twilight's mind, and she began to stir. Then a powerful pain finally cut through the fog and made itself known. “Ow,” she said, and then brought up a foreleg so she could rub a fetlock against her forehead, just underneath her horn.

“I see you've decided to rejoin the living,” a male voice observed, and for a moment Twilight felt like slipping back asleep as it stirred up a memory of her father tucking her into bed. Nevertheless she forced her mind to keep spinning up, and then opened her eyes.

The interior of the cockpit was entirely as she remembered it, save for the fact that daylight was no longer streaming in from outside. Instead the only light came from the glow of the holographic HUD and various displays on the command console. “How long was I out?” Twilight mumbled, as she squinted her eyes in order to get them to focus better.

“Ten hours,” James McKenna replied. His tone was subdued as he continued. “I was getting worried after the first two and had Stonewall send a medic over. She said you just had some powerful mana drain or something and to let you rest, so we kind of just let you sleep.”

Twilight absorbed the human's words and then pondered on them a bit. “What happened?” she asked, and then shook her head. “Not with me, I mean, but after I passed out. I assume I got us across the river?”

“You did,” James answered. Even as he spoke, though, he kept his eyes focused on the HUD and his sensor readouts. “And thanks to Case Zulu we managed to pull back our forces without further engagement, save for a few griffons trying to harry the army,” he explained, and then fell silent.

A moment of silence passed as Twilight waited for him to continue. When he didn't, however, she shivered a bit. “How bad is it?”

“Pretty bad,” McKenna admitted. “I don't know all the numbers yet, but your people got hit pretty hard by the Desperadoes, Griffons, and Changelings, and we lost two 'Mechs and the remaining were all battered to Hell and back. We managed to not leave any wounded behind that we know of, but Franz Mendoza, our Commando pilot, is missing. Apparently he had to bug out of his 'Mech mid-battle and we lost track of him in the retreat.”

Twilight frowned at that. “Aren't you going to look for him?” she asked, bemused.

James sighed. “We tried,” he said, quietly. “We've all been scanning the channels for his radio and Dash and the Wonderbolts even did a few sweeps looking for him, but the griffons were pretty hot on our heels and the Desperadoes began crossing the river right after the flood finished, so we couldn’t make a thorough search. Either Franz has gone to ground, or he got killed or captured.”

Silence again fell over the pair, broken only by the constant thumps of 'Mechs tromping through the woods. Now that she had a moment, Twilight could make out several other patterns of the noise, and this made her think. “We lost, didn't we?” she asked, sadly.

Even at the odd angle, she could see McKenna bite his lip before he answered her. “Yeah,” he said, quietly. “Yeah, we did.” He paused for a few moments, and then took in a breath. “I'm sorry, Twilight,” he added, and then fell silent.

Emotion started to well up in Twilight at that, and she turned her head to look out through the ferroglass canopy. The outside world was dark as she had ever seen it, and it seemed to echo her heart. After a few moments, though, she took in a deep breath, and then turned her head back to look at McKenna. “You did warn us that our chances weren't all that great,” she said, carefully. “And I know you tried your best. I was here in this machine with you, after all,” she added, and then dropped her gaze downward. “I just wish there was more I could have done.”

“We all wish that of ourselves,” James replied, sotto voce. He waited for Twilight to look back up at him before he spoke again. “We do what we can, when we can, and afterwards we kick ourselves for not doing better. I wish I could tell you some great truth or saying that would make it sting less, but the fact is none of us can ever be perfect.”

Once again a silence fell over the pair, broken only by the sounds of machinery on the march. Several long moments passed like this before Twilight finally managed to rouse from her stupor. “So, what happens now?” she asked, as she turned her gaze to the MechWarrior.

“Good question,” James commented, and then took a moment to think. “I can't really say exactly what, other than we get everyone back to Canterlot, lick our wounds, and try to come up with a new plan.”

“Can we even come up with a new plan?” Twilight plaintively asked. “I thought this one was our best chance? What could we even do now that it's failed?”

James sighed again. “I don't know, Twilight,” he replied, evenly. “But either we try to come up with a new course of action, or we surrender to O'Connell and his griffon allies. I'm not sure what you're inclined to do, but my heritage and my experience tell me to keep fighting. Maybe we'll still lose, or maybe the next battle something like the changelings will happen for us and against O'Connell. But we won't know unless we try.”

The conviction in McKenna's voice increased as he spoke, and Twilight felt a small amount of admiration for the human, albeit tempered with the knowledge that the future was going to become very, very hard. Still, James is right, Twilight thought. We can't give up now, not unless we want to just surrender.

But still, a voice piped up inside her head. What else could we do?

Even as she thought of that, Twilight felt a cold realization set in: the Elements, she thought. We might have to use them after all. But, if we do...

She shook her head at that. No. They're a last resort for a reason. At the very least we should wait and see if there's anything that can be done, any planning or idea that might come up that we can use. I may not have absorbed all of human history, but from what I've read humans have faced steep odds before and still come out on top. And anything they can do, ponies can do.

The sound of a tree shattering broke Twilight out of her reverie, and she startled a bit before she recognized the now-familiar sound of snapping wood. Then again, ponies haven't built stuff like this thing, that's for sure, she thought, and then sighed. Still, I can't give up. I won't give up.

* * * *

Royal Palace,

Canterlot, Equis

Princess Luna walked slowly along the ramparts of the tall walls that surrounded the palace. Her hooffalls were not the only sound to be heard, but it was the closest, and solitary in that regard. At least the guards recognize that I require some time alone, she mused, as she simply stared ahead while she walked. Of course, I had to explain my desire rather forcefully to get even this much of a boon. I can understand the need for greater security in light of all that's happened, but a pony must sometimes think without distraction. And right now, company wouldst only weigh heavily upon my back given... given the situation.

The alacorn sighed as she stopped her aimless walk, and then turned her body until she could face towards the city beyond the wall. Much of Canterlot was dark, with only the main thoroughfares and a few squares showing the glow of streetlights. Luna's eyes traced over them, and then looked beyond to the great mass of the unlit city. A few lanterns still dot the night, but verily they are but a pale imitation of the city that once seemed to rival the night sky.

A faint smile crossed Luna's muzzle as she remembered the first time she had seen Canterlot as it existed in modern times. 'Twas amazing, to see the city lit up as if a festival was about, yet it was merely a workday. To see my subjects finally appreciating the value of the night gave me such great hope that, despite everything, despite my fall, that there would be good days ahead.

The smile faded, and Luna sighed as she turned and resumed her walk. But now the city, like our prospects, is quite dark indeed. So many have been evacuated, and those who remain are fearful of too much light lest they make themselves a target for our foes. Hope turns to fear, and despair cannot be far behind when word gets out of the loss we suffered today.

At least the humans’ advances in radio gives us forewarning, she continued to muse, as she paused to toss a glance towards the main gate of the city, where the Dark Horse's DropShip rested. In the days of my youth you did not hear of an army's victory or defeat lest they sent a runner ahead, and even then he would often only arrive at most in time to get the city ready to receive their host. And that is if the city was lucky; the more unfortunate method was when the defeated army itself crawled up to the gates with an enemy force right on their flanks.

A sudden, mild laugh broke free from her lips at that, and Luna ruefully shook her head. And yet is that not what we see here? The advent of the magnificence of such mundane and easy communication over vast ranges is made not a marvel, but a necessity as the machines and weapons the humans also developed mean that foes and friends alike can traverse to your threshold so much faster. 'Tia was right when she told me “the more things change, the more they stay the same”.

Luna sighed at that, and then stopped her rampart walk again, and again turned to look out over the city. Yes, it does seem that everything in this world must run in cycles, and this is the end of one, to be sure. But which cycle is ending? The routine troubles that seem to come and go? The stability and prosperity of modern times? The Pax Harmonia that Celestia and I brought about? Or is this the very end of pony civilization, of Equestria itself? She paused in her musings to shake her head. Maker, what I would give to have Celestia hale and hearty at this time. A thousand more years of experience wouldst be an advantage, and her occasional clairvoyance, random though it be, almost certainly wouldst chime in at least once.

A few moments of morose silence set in at that. Soon enough, however, Luna shook herself and then ruffled her wings a bit. Nay. As much as I love and miss my sister, I must not be rendered immobile with my pining. This war, this cycle is not yet over, and until it is there is still hope. Our subjects—my subjects—are relying on me to forge a path through the wilderness, and I must not let them down. She paused, and then shook her head. Now if only I knew what that path should be...

The sound of running pony entered into Luna's consciousness then, and she tensed as she realized the runner was close and heading straight for her. She willed up energy into her horn and brought up a number of spells into her mind as she spun around, but soon enough relaxed a bit when she recognized one of the palace medical staff. Still, a quiet changeling detection spell to be sure, the princess thought, and then did as she planned. The affirmation of the gray pony's truthful appearance came to her just as the mare stopped in front of her and then bowed. “What is the matter, my little pony?” Luna asked, warily.

“P-princess,” the mare huffed, without looking up. Her chest heaved as she sought to catch her breath, and the as such her speech suffered. “I j-just ran here... It's... Princess... Celestia...”

“What!” Luna half-shouted, and then grasped the mare in her telekinesis. She then brought the shocked pony up to hover in mid-air, face-to-face. “What about my sister?”

The medical pony attempted to flinch, yet Luna's magic held her head steady. “She... I mean... we're not sure...”

“Spit. It. Out,” Luna growled. “Is she under attack? Has a sickness compounded her injuries? What?”

“She's kind of awake,” the mare tremulously replied.

“'Kind of'?” Luna echoed, incredulous. “Explain!”

The mare gulped, and she shifted her blue eyes down in fear. “S-she started talking a few minutes ago, but she won't respond to anypony who tries to talk to her,” the pony explained, and then brought her eyes back up to look into Luna's. “She just keeps asking for you.”

Luna just stared back into the mare's eyes for a moment as she registered the nurse's words. Then a determined expression settled on her features. “Then let us not keep her waiting,” the alacorn said, and the glow around her horn brightened. Then a flash erupted around the pair and when it faded they were standing—or in the mare's case, held in mid-air—in the quarters Celestia had been moved to after the griffons' failed assassination attempt. Servant's quarters may not befit a princess in normal times, Luna mused, as she set the medical mare down and then turned to walk towards the bed that barely contained her sister's sizable body. But ‘tis better than the mess her rooms became.

Several ponies had been in the room when she teleported in, including two guards next to Celestia's bed and a doctor and a nurse. The latter two quickly turned and gave the lunar princess a brief bow, while the former remained stoic and cast hard gazes over everyone, even Luna herself. Good stallions, the dark alacorn thought, as the medical ponies rose from their bow. “My sister speaks?”

“Yes, your majesty,” the doctor, a middle-aged unicorn stallion edging into senior years, replied. “She calls your name every few minutes, but does not respond to outside stimuli at all.”

“There may be a reason for that,” Luna said, as she quickly walked over to stand next to her sister's bed. The elder alacorn was lying on her left side, and was still heavily bandaged to the point that she looked more like a foal's idea of a mummy than a princess. Even her wings were bound and wrapped up, held tightly against her sides. And she looks so different without her long locks of mane and tail, Luna noted, but then pushed such musings from her mind as she moved to hold her head above her sister's. “Celestia,” she said, softly.

A soft murmur came from the larger alacorn's mouth. “Luna,” Celestia said, quietly, though her eyes remained shut and her head continued to lay on the bed. “Luna,” she repeated, sounding almost forlorn.

“I am here, sister,” Luna said, a bit louder than before. She also lowered her head and held it almost up to Celestia's. “What do you need of me?”

The elder pony fell quiet for a moment. Then, slowly, almost mechanically, she began to speak in a strained whisper. “A great bough of the World Tree grows strong, until a lightning bolt splits it in twain.” she said, without preamble. “One half grows rich and green, full of life, but is spindly and weak. The other grows bare, blackened, and ugly, yet is stronger than steel.” Celestia paused then, as her body worked to gather breath, but soon resumed. “An ivory arrow pierces them both, and they entwine around each other. Will they grow towards the light, or be pulled into darkness?”

Luna listened to everything her sister said, and then waited with baited breath as she stopped speaking. After several long moments of silence, though, Luna cast a quick diagnostic spell related to her position as sleep warden. “She rests deep in coma once more,” the younger alacorn announced, as she pulled herself back and then turned to face the other ponies in the room.

The doctor and nurse who had been in the room quickly rushed over to check on the elder princess' vitals at that announcement. The third medical pony, though, simply blinked a bit in confusion. “What happened?” she asked, too incredulous to realize she was speaking so informally to her diarch.

Luna, however, let it pass over her. “She was never really awake,” she explained, and then turned her head to look at her sister again. This also conveniently allowed the two ponies attending the elder mare to listen in more effectively even as they performed their duties. “Mine sister, on occasion, has flashes of vision, and sometimes these come in her sleep. She usually wakes upon having them, but I daresay her current condition prevents that. It seems, however, part of her unconscious mind felt compelled to pass this on despite her incapacitation.”

Silence met this declaration. The ponies attending Celestia focused in more on their work, and even the mare who had notified Luna seemed to be subdued as she simply sat there for a moment. Luna herself noted this, and then walked over to stand in front of her. “What is thy name, subject?” she asked.

The mare looked up and flinched a bit, but replied evenly. “Soothing Mist, princess,” she said, and then bowed her head.

“Soothing Mist,” Luna repeated, both to address the pony and to affirm that she heard the name correctly. She then continued once the smaller mare looked back up. “I thank thee for thine quick action in notifying me. Thee also has my apologies for my brusque demeanor.”

“O-oh it's no problem, your highness,” Mist replied, a bit shakily. “I understand, your sister means so much to you,” she added, and then glanced over to the bandaged pony on the bed. “She means a lot to us, as well.”

Luna couldn't help but smile a bit at that, despite the situation. “Thank you, my little pony,” she said, and then took in and released a deep, slow breath. “I shall leave you all to your duties, then,” she said, and then walked around Soothing Mist and headed for the door.

“Princess,” Mist spoke, just as Luna reached the hallway. Mildly surprised, Luna paused and then turned around to face the pony, whom had stood and turned towards her. “I-if it's not too much to ask, what does Celestia's vision mean?”

The dark alacorn paused to think at this. As she did, her eyes caught the other ponies in the room she had just left paying rapt attention to the conversing pair. Even the guards break their traditional stoicism by leaning forward just a bit, she noted, with wry amusement. The momentary feeling died quickly, however, and soon Luna sighed. “I wish I could tell thee, my subject,” she said, carefully. “But I am at a loss myself. I promise, however,” she added, after a moment to let her words sink in. “That I shall find out.”

* * * *

Equestrian Army

Whitetail Woods, East of Canterlot

September 28th, AD 3070/1023 RC

0214 Hours Lima

Applejack grunted in exertion as the cart she pulled resisted going over a bump in the forest floor. “C'mon, now,” she quietly said, more to herself than anything else, as she put more force into her legs. The additional effort worked, and soon enough the cart was over and rolling along again, pulled by the lone farmer.

Well, lone in that I'm the only one pulling this here cart, Applejack mused, and then glanced around. Plenty o' ponies pulling more than their weight around here, she mused, as her eyes traced over the nearby carts and the various ponies hauling them. She couldn't see very far, though, as the time of day meant there was little light for her eyes to pull in. And them dang clouds the pegasi pulled in ain't helping, Applejack mused, as she glanced upwards briefly to see only the dark underbelly of a low-hanging cloud deck. I know they only did it to keep the griffons from jumping us, but it keeps the moon and starlight from letting us see clearly.

Then again, a voice chimed up in the back of her mind. Do you want to see what's around you?

An involuntary shudder ran through the farmer at that, and she closed her eyes briefly as memories of meeting up with the retreating army came back to her. I thought we had it bad at the camp, but seeing what happened to the boys out there... I hate to sound like a tribalist, but I'm glad that Braeburn and Big Mac ain't unicorns. Or pegasi. ...I hope that don't make me a bad pony. I just don't want to see 'em like I seen them wounded. Images of burned bodies and missing limbs ran through Applejack's mind, and she shook her head. 'Course I wouldn't wish that on anypony, no matter who or what they are.

It was then that a moan came from one of the nearby carts, as if to place emphasis on Applejack's thoughts. Poor guy, she thought, and then had to stifle a yawn. Poor all o' us; I don't know how much longer we can keep carrying on without sleeping. It's bad enough to pull an all-nighter, even worse when you're already plumb tuckered out from running around all day.

Her thoughts were not idle ones, Applejack knew. Years of farm work will let you know a few things about working 'til you're exhausted. And sweet heavens, we are starting to get exhausted. She started to sigh at that, though soon it turned into a yawn.

“Don't do that, AJ,” a worn out voice said above and behind Applejack. The farm mare jolted a bit at that, but soon recognized Rainbow Dash's familiar tone. A second later the rainbow-maned pegasus dropped into view next to Applejack and then landed on the earth pony's right side, whereupon Dash matched her forward speed, despite the fact that she was still weighed down with her armor and weapon setup. “You're gonna make me want to pass out.”

“Can't help it much, Dash,” Applejack replied, tiredly. “Ah've been at it all day, and most o' the night.”

“Yeah, well,” Rainbow said, and then sighed. “You aren't the only one.”

“Hmm,” Applejack agreed, with a hum. A pause fell over their conversation for a bit, but soon enough the farmer spoke up. “So Ah ain't ungrateful for seein' ya again, Dash,” she began, and then hesitated only a moment as she recalled the brief, joyous feeling of meeting her friend after the battle and finding out she was still alive. “But Ah'm guessin' ya ain't here for chit-chat.”

Rainbow Dash ruefully chuckled. “Yeah. But hey, it's good news: general Stonewall is calling for a break, and commander McKenna said we got enough time to stop for a bit. So I'm here to tell you to go ahead and halt your section.”

Applejack sighed at that, but it was matched with a half-smile. “Mighty glad t' hear it,” she said, and then rolled her cart to a stop. The various ponies she had been put in charge of were all around her, and thus pulled to a halt as well when they noticed her stop. “Break time, fellers!” Applejack called out, in a voice honed by communicating with her family across acres of farmland. “Sit a spell an' rest yer legs! But don't any of y'all get too comfy an' fall asleep or yer gettin' a kick to the flank!”

A few ponies chuckled good-naturedly at that, though they all knew that Applejack wasn't making an idle threat. I already had to kick a few awake at the last stop, she mused, and then shook her head. I hate doing that, but we gotta keep going. At least these army fellers know I don't mean anything personal by it.

She was broken from her reverie by the sudden jostling of her body as hooves pulled her harness off and let the pull bars drop to the ground. Applejack blinked at that, and realized that she had started to drift away even as she stood still, and then shook her head a bit to clear it. “Thanks, Dash,” she said, as she turned her head to see that it was Rainbow who had helped her out.

“Heh, no prob, AJ,” the pegasus replied, and then yawned. “'Scuse me. Guess I could use a break, too,” she said, and then promptly dropped to the ground in a controlled manner.

Applejack chuckled a bit, as she was heartened at seeing some familiar behavior from her friend. “Want me ta help ya with your getup?” she asked.

“Nah,” Rainbow said, as she waved a foreleg dismissively. “Takes too much time, and once the break's over I'd have to get in it again. Besides, it's not that bad once you get used to it.”

“Well, Ah'll take yer word fer it,” Applejack replied, and then sat her haunches down on the forest floor. The two friends sat in silence for a few moments, but soon enough Applejack spoke up again. “Today was a pretty bad day, weren’t it?” she asked, quietly.

“Bad doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Rainbow Dash replied, and then sighed. “Heavens above, AJ, it was horrible,” she added, and then shuddered where she lied. “So many ponies died today, and so many griffons, too. And for what?” she asked, and then slowly pushed up onto her haunches so she could look at Applejack, and the farmer saw a hard look on Rainbow’s face. “Because some sick jerks want to treat us like slaves? Rrrg, just thinking about it makes me want to fly back and knock some heads in all over again!”

Applejack felt her jaw drop as she watched her friend fume. “How can ya say that, Dash?” she asked, plaintively. “How can ya… How can ya just go through all o’ that an’ want more?”

“You think I want to do this?” Rainbow asked back, and a haunted look appeared in her eyes. “I want to go back there and fight ‘cuz I want it to stop!”

“Yeah, Ah heard that afore,” Applejack said, and then shook her head. “But how can ya…” She paused at that as her voice hitched. “How can ya…” she repeated, and then dropped her gaze down.

Rainbow Dash blinked at that, and then slowly stood back on all fours. “AJ?” she asked, and then took a step toward her friend.

“How can ya do it, Dash?” Applejack asked, and then looked back up at the pegasus. Dash almost flinched as she saw tears filling the farmer’s eyes. “How can ya do that, see that an’ stay who ya are?”

“Applejack,” Rainbow said, unsure of anything else to say to the mare.

Applejack shook her head. “Ah saw ponies—people die today,” she softly said, but with a large amount of strain in her voice as she fought against her emotions. “Ah saw changelings die. Ah saw some blow up right in front o’ mah face! Oh heavens, Dash, Ah killed one mahself!” Applejack shook at that, her voice raised and her cheeks stained. “How th’ hay can Ah go home an’ not see that ev’ry time Ah close mah eyes! All the blood an’ the guts an’ the screams…” She finally broke down at that, and lowered her head and began to sob.

Barely a second later, she felt arms encircling her and soon had a shoulder pressed under her chin. Applejack responded by wrapping her arms around the armored pegasus in front of her, hugged her tight, and sobbed louder.

Long minutes passed, how many the farmer didn’t know and would never be able to count. Eventually, though, her self-control and pride finally started to reassert themselves, and slowly she brought her crying under control. When she did, Rainbow spoke again, while still holding her friend. “I had to do this myself,” she began, her voice so low that it was almost a whisper. “After the attack on Canterlot; I felt so awful, so terrified.” Dash paused, and then sighed. “I do know how you feel, AJ, and I know you’ll get better.”

“How can ya do this, Dash?” Applejack repeated her earlier question, even as she kept her head resting on the pegasus’ shoulder. “Ah know ya changed after that, but Ah still saw the same ol’ Rainbow in ya. How can ya see this stuff, even go doin’ it yerself and still be you?”

Rainbow mirthlessly chuckled at that, and then slowly drew back from the hug. Applejack took the hint and shifted back herself, and soon the two were sitting on their haunches in front of each other. “I don’t know,” Dash admitted, with a lopsided smirk. “I think I’m just awesome that way,” she added, with a wink.

Applejack let out a strangled sound that was a close approximation to a chuckle, but said nothing as Rainbow Dash resumed speaking. “But seriously, yeah, I think part of it is I… I’m loyal, you know?” she asked, and then shrugged. “That’s my thing. And loyalty is the basis of duty. I think I’m just the kind of pony who can do this sort of thing and still be me, I guess.”

A frown crossed the farmer’s muzzle at that. “But ya said ya had ta… I mean…” She trailed off as words failed her, and then shook her head.

“Well, I did have help,” Rainbow Dash said, and then sighed. “After Canterlot I felt like crap and I didn’t know why. Then Melissa came by and we talked and, well, I did what you did, and she did what I did,” she admitted, with a blush that could be seen even through her helmet’s visor. “She kinda helped me see that, yeah, this stuff is bad but that’s why they do what they do. And I guess I decided I wanted to do that, too.”

The frown on Applejack’s muzzle slowly shifted into a faint smile. “Ya really are one of a kind, ain’t ya, Dash?” she asked. Then the smile faded, and she closed her eyes as sadness began to well up again. “But you’ll pardon me if Ah can’t say that helps me much.”

“No, I guess it won’t,” Dash said, with another sigh. Then she brought up a hoof and set it on Applejack’s shoulder, and then waited for the farmer to look up. “But don’t you see? This is proof that you’re still you, AJ,” she earnestly said, as she looked into the other mare’s eyes. “You’re not made for this sort of thing, and it shows. Hailbait, I don’t think most ponies are, really,” she added, and then shook her head. “I’m not even sure I’m cut out for it all that much. But we’re here, and we’re doing it. You’re doing it, and you’re doing it the way all of Ponyville would recognize: by kicking flank and getting everypony working at their best.”

Another faded smile found its way onto Applejack’s muzzle at that. “Thanks, Dash,” she said, and then reached up with a hoof to wipe one of her eyes. “Ah appreciate it.”

“Anytime, AJ,” Dash said, and then brought her hoof back and set it on the ground. “And you know, you should find one of our good guy humans to talk to about this; they seem to know what they’re doing.”

Applejack’s expression shifted into one of uncertainty at that. “Ah don’t know,” she temporized, and then shook her head. “Ah saw where that led an’ Ah ain’t sure I want them hands all over me.”

“Pfft,” Dash replied. “You make it sound all dirty. Trust me, it’s a lot better than it looks,” she added. Then an idea entered her head, and she smirked. “Or do you want it to be dirty? Because if so I think Dorian would go there if you ask nicely.”

The blush that erupted on Applejack’s face would have given a tomato a run for its money. “Rainbow Dash!” she nearly shouted, utterly scandalized.

“Bwaa ha ha haa!” Rainbow Dash cackled, as she collapsed to the ground. Her laughter made the blush on Applejack’s face double, and drew attention from nearby ponies, which had up until this time studiously and politely given the two friends privacy. “You should see your face! You look like Big Mac got turned into a mare!”

“Consarnit, Rainbow!” Applejack replied, and then angrily stomped her right foreleg in emphasis. Right after she did, though, something stuck her about the situation, and all anger fled the farmer as she reflected on her thoughts. Dash teasin’, me getting’ a bit irked… “This is almost normal,” she muttered.

Dash’s laughter died away, and the pegasus shifted back to sit on her haunches again. “Yeah,” she agreed, and then smiled at Applejack. “Kinda makes you hopeful that when this is all done, we can go home and just be normal ponies again, huh?”

Applejack smirked slightly at that. “Heh, yeah,” she agreed. Then the smirk faded, and her expression shifted morose. “When this is all over with,” she echoed, and then pointedly looked around.

Rainbow’s good humor disappeared at that, and she sighed. “Don’t worry, AJ,” she said, and then proffered another, friendly smile. “We’re gonna get through this.”

“Mebbie,” Applejack allowed, and then shook her head. “But a lot o’ ponies ain’t; a lot haven’t.”

The smile faded, and was replaced by a fire in Rainbow Dash’s eyes. “And that’s why we’ve got to fight, and win,” she said, evenly. “It’s why we’ve got to remember who we are, because otherwise they died in vain.”

This statement made Applejack pause, and she leaned back to try and look at her friend from a different angle. “Ya know, yer startin’ ta sound like one o’ them humans,” she said, carefully.

Rainbow Dash blinked at that, and then shrugged. “Is that a bad thing?” she asked, though her tone sounded rhetorical.

“Ah don’t rightly know,” Applejack replied, nonetheless. “But, so long as ya stay yourself, too, Ah don’t really care,” she added, with a faint smile.

An equal expression was reflected on the pegasus’ face. “Thanks, AJ,” Dash said. She then froze, and then blinked a bit before she nodded. “Okay, they just used the radio again: it’s time to get going.”

Applejack sighed at that, but also nodded. “Alright,” she said, and then stood up at the same time her friend did. “Hey, Dash?” she added, as the pegasus started to spread her wings. “You take care out there, alright? Ah want ta see if all of us can go back ta bein’ normal ponies after this.”

Rainbow Dash smiled at that, and then nodded. “You too, AJ, you too,” she said, and then sprung up into the air and flew off into the darkness.

Applejack watched her go, and then shook her head to clear out the cobwebs. I needed that, she thought, and then smiled a bit. No matter how bad it gets, no matter how much terror creeps in, we still got friends to lean on, and who lean on us. We’re still ponies, and our enemies can’t take that away.

* * * *

Canterlot City Gates

September 28th

0820h Lima

This is worse than I feared, princess Luna thought, as she watched the Equestrian Army march through the main gates from her position atop said entrance. Even ‘march’ is being generous, she mused, as she looked over the tired faces, the haggard steps, and the dragging tails of the ponies who trudged into the city. They look as if some pony hath finally cracked necromancery and raised an army of the dead. And yet they are virtually pristine when compared to the wounded who arrived before them.

Luna turned her head and neck at that to glance back towards the teaching hospital attached to Canterlot Royal University. The building was not easy to make out, given that it was close to the palace so the usual cityscape broke up its appearance, but the alacorn was able to spy it within a moment. I am glad that general Stonewall arranged for them to be at the front of the column, Luna mused, and then turned her head back to look at the army still marching in. His sense of compassion is equal to that of his duty; a noble spirit if I hath ever seen.

Much as another I know, the princess mused, as she turned her gaze upward and outward. The terrain outside of the gates was essentially a large ramp that led down the mountain. It had been forged that way by earth pony craftsponies and unicorn mages centuries ago to give a steady, traversable grade for ground-bound ponies to reach the capitol, and as such anyone atop the city’s ramparts could see any approaching entities a good, long distance away. Thus Luna had no problem spotting the various Dark Horse BattleMechs as they trailed the end of the army. Still trying to watch over us, even with the damage they have incurred, Luna observed, with a shake of her head. I was right before: they are knights.

A memory surfaced of the time after the meeting when she had made that observation. She had been conversing with Twilight Sparkle before the latter had departed to take up her position in James McKenna’s ‘Mech. She spoke of how close I had come to the truth of how these so-called MechWarriors are viewed in human circles, Luna remembered, and then shook her head. They were seen as knights defending their respective realms, at least throughout their dark age. For beings like those in the Dark Horse, at least, it is a fitting analogy.

Luna was disturbed from her thoughts when a pegasus flew forward from the rear of the formation and headed straight for the gate. The six guards around her—two of each tribe—tensed and readied themselves. The princess, though, waved a hoof. “Be at ease, gentlestallions,” she said, evenly. “Even from here I can recognize one of Stonewall’s aides de camp.”

The various guard relaxed somewhat, but still maintained a vigil, for which Luna felt both mortified and grateful. The events of this war have been traumatizing for our subjects, and they feel the need to be protective of myself. It is somewhat embarrassing, given the fact that I could swat all six of them aside myself if I wanted to. But it warms my heart to see how much they care for me.

She put further thoughts aside at this as the orangish-yellow Pegasus flew to a halt just in front of the rampart upon which the princess stood. “Permission to land, your highness,” he said, with a foreleg salute.

“Granted, Flash Sentry,” Luna replied, and was quietly amused to see the brief flush wash over the pegasus’ face at the mention of his name. Yes, we do remember those who serve well, Luna mused, as the blue-maned pony in chainmail flew forward and then landed on the parapet in front of the princess and her entourage, and then bowed. “What news do ye bring?” Luna sked, once he had paid his respect.

“Compliments from General Stonewall, princess, and that he wishes to arrange a strategy meeting as soon as possible,” Flash Sentry replied, after he stood up from his bow. “He assures me that Commander McKenna, Captain Starbuck, and Captain Spitfire all plan to attend.”

“I am sure they will,” Luna replied, with a nod. “Thank thee for thine service, Sentry. Please return to the general and inform him and the others that we shall meet aboard the humans’ ship in three hours,” she said, and then gestured with a wing to the large, gray-painted bulk that still sat astride the path into the city.

“Yes, your majesty,” Sentry replied, and then briefly bowed again. “By your leave, then?”

“Go,” Luna replied, evenly. At her word the pegasus leapt back into the air and then turned and zipped back the way he had come from. The princess watched him fly for a bit, and then cast her eyes towards his destination. During their brief talk the friendly ‘Mechs had marched closer, and she could now see that, while most pegasi were flying in formation over the end of the column, several were riding on top of the human vehicles. An ingenious solution to the fact that a marching—or flying—army tends to wear themselves out, Luna mused. I can easily see not all of them can fit atop the machines, so I presume they have taken turns. She glanced down again at that, and then sighed. A pity our allies have no other vehicles to assist, for surely a rested army is more likely to win.

Luna stood there for a few moments longer, and then shook her head. Enough of this wishing for things that have not been nor will be; there is work to be done. With that, she turned and started her walk back towards the stairs down to ground level.

* * * *

Rainbow Dash yawned as she lied on top of James McKenna’s Highlander and enjoyed the sensation of a breeze blowing through her mane. The BattleMech’s flat-topped head made an excellent perch despite the swaying that the machine’s walk induced. If anything it makes it almost nap-worthy, she mused, with a faint, brief smirk, as she rested her head on the helmet she cradled between her forelegs.

The pegasus lethargically looked around a bit, and for a moment she felt a thrill. I’m hanging out with the Wonderbolts, how cool is that? she thought, and then almost chuckled at the memory of how she would have reacted before. Around her were, in fact, Spitfire, Soarin, and Fleetfoot, who shared the large space on top of the ‘Mech’s head. At least one other Wonderbolt was riding on the flat shelf that the armor over the Highlander’s chest made, and others were riding on top of the other surviving war machines that were marching in loose formation.

I would’ve done nearly anything to just be near these ponies, before, Rainbow recalled, and then shook her head. Now it all just seems so… pointless. Huh. I wonder when I stopped caring?

Probably about the time you stuffed high explosives on top of some guy’s seat, a voice inside Dash replied, and she sighed. And seeing everypony around me fighting and killing didn’t help. I dunno. I knew the Wonderbolts fought monsters and badguys and stuff, but I guess I never realized that they were kind of the military, too. I mean, sure, I knew about it up in my head, but I guess I just never—

“Something wrong, Rainbow?” a voice asked, and Rainbow Dash had to shake her head a bit to dispel the cobwebs. Once she did this, the blue pegasus turned her head to see that it was Spitfire who’d spoken.

The yellow pony was giving Dash a curious glance, and the latter realized that Spitfire had probably heard her sigh. “Nothing especially, at the moment,” Rainbow answered, and then shrugged her wings. The gesture made her wince a bit, as her muscles were worn out from combat flying and then the long flight home. Not to mention me and the ‘Bolts took the last ride so we could let the assault wing get some rest after the heavy hauling they did, she mused. “I was just… thinking about things.”

“Heh,” Spitfire muttered, with a brief look of amusement on her face. “I bet,” she added, and then sighed herself. “This is all so crazy. I trained for years and years, all the formations and drills, and never once did I think I’d actually have to go and… fight somepony,” she said, and then slightly shook herself.

“Kill, you mean,” Soarin chimed in. Neither of the mares considered it rude, though, considering that while the Highlander’s head was large enough to fit them all, it was still small enough to require that they sat in close proximity of each other. Thus the stallion easily slid into the conversation. “I never thought much about it, either. All this death around us, what we do and the enemy does, it almost feels like a terrible nightmare, doesn’t it?”

“Ever since Manehattan,” Rainbow Dash agreed, and then shook her head. “And I’m not sure if it’s going to get better anytime soon.”

“You shouldn’t talk like that, rook,” Spitfire spoke up, and she gave Dash a measured look. “It could have gone a whole lot worse. In fact, if it wasn’t for your friends we’d probably all be dead by now.”

“Don’t forget Dash, either,” Soarin interjected, and then smirked a bit. “She kicked some flank out there. So much so that I don’t think you ought to call her rookie anymore, Spitfire.”

Rainbow Dash blushed at the stallion’s words. “I just did what I had to,” she said, softly.

“Yeah, and like Soarin said, you did it well,” Spitfire added in, and then smirked a bit when she saw the blue pony blush harder. “I don’t know how all of this will end, but if we’re alive and Equestria’s still around, you’re going to make one heck of a Wonderbolt.”

Dash blinked at that. “Huh?” she uttered, and then seemed to regain control of herself. “How did you know?”

“Your application to the academy crossed my desk just before all this started,” Spitfire answered, that small smirk still on her muzzle.

“Oh, heh, yeah,” Rainbow sheepishly said. Then she reached up a hoof to rub the back of her head. “I guess that would be kind of obvious I was interested.”

The smirk faded from Spitfire’s visage at that. “Was?” she echoed, and then tilted her head. “Did you change your mind?”

A moment of silence met that question as Rainbow considered it. Then she shrugged her wings again. “I really don’t know,” she evenly replied. “When I was growing up, it was all I ever wanted to do. Haystacks, it’s all I’ve been training for since I became an adult. But now…” she trailed off, and then lazily waved a hoof. “I don’t know. Everything’s changed, and now it just doesn’t register on me.” Dash paused again, and then sighed. “To be honest, I’m not sure what I want to do when this is all over with.”

“Well, that’s fair,” Spitfire said, after she took a moment to think on what the polychromatic pegasus said. “And as long as we’re being honest, I’m not even sure if the Wonderbolts will be around after all of this. These weird machines walking and flying around, the crazy weapons, it all makes me wonder if we’re not obsolete.”

“I think there’s always going to be something like the ‘Bolts,” Soarin interjected, with a wing-shrug of his own. “Somepony’s got to be ready to do the things we need to do. Whenever we do do it, I mean.”

Both Spitfire and Rainbow Dash gave the stallion a look, and he gave a goofy grin in return. “Hey, I’m not the captain, so don’t expect poetry from me when I talk, yeah?” he said, cheerfully.

“You’re lucky you got skills and looks, Soarin,” Spitfire retorted. “Because you’re last place in the brains department,” she teased, with a smirk.

“Hey, at least I placed instead of being disqualified,” Soarin shot back, still with his grin.

Rainbow Dash chuckled at that, but any further conversation was preempted by the fourth pegasus on the ‘Mech’s head who had remained quiet until now. “Looks like we’re almost there,” Fleetfoot said, as she raised a foreleg to point forward.

The other ponies turned their heads around and saw that their talk had lasted until the Highlander had reached the area around Canterlot’s main gates. Ahead and below them were the last rows of the army, already marching through the gates, and to the right was the massive bulk of the Heart of Steel. The latter was surrounded somewhat by wagons and various ponies and humans moving boxes around, though one of the main ramps was clear and already had Tania Griffin’s Assassin BattleMech marching up and into the belly of the DropShip. The pegasi riding on top of it took off as the ‘Mech ascended the ramp, and once in the air the ponies flew up high enough to enter a holding pattern.

“Looks like it’s back to work for us,” Spitfire said, and then groaned as she began to stand up. “Oh heavens, that was not nearly long enough of a rest,” she grumbled.

“Tell me about it,” Fleetfoot chimed in, as both she and Soarin stood up as well. “I can’t wait to go have a good, long soak.”

“First things first,” Spitfire said, as the Highlander came to a halt. The change prompted her to look around for a moment, but soon enough she returned her attention to the others around her once it was clear the ‘Mech was merely waiting in line behind the others of the company. “We go to the guard barracks and get our gear turned in for cleaning and maintenance. And then you and I, Soarin,” she added, and pointed a hoof at the stallion for emphasis, “are coming back here for the first debrief and planning session Stonewall’s aid told us about.”

“Great,” Soarin replied, sarcastically. “Straight into the belly of an alien spaceship, I can’t wait.”

“It’s not that bad,” Rainbow Dash chimed in, and the others turned their heads to look down at her, as she remained lying down. “It’s kinda cramped and tight, but it’s got a bunch of cool stuff, too.” And bacon, she thought.

“I guess,” Soarin temporized, as he and the other Wonderbolts stretched their wings to work out cramps. “I just don’t see why we gotta meet up in there.”

“Alright, quit your bellyaching,” Spitfire said, and then launched herself into the air and hovered. “It’s time to get going. Are you coming with us, Dash?” she asked, as she waited for her cohorts to take off as well.

“Nah, I’m kinda working for these guys, so this is where I belong for now,” she said, and then felt a small bit of warmth at that. “I’ll see you guys when you get back.”

The other ponies nodded to her, and then turned and flew off to join the other Wonderbolts who were also leaving behind the Dark Horse ‘Mechs as the latter entered their ship. Rainbow Dash watched them go, and then lowered her head to rest it on her helmet once again. Her thoughts remained silent as she just lied there, simply watching as the various war machines marched into the DropShip one by one, until finally it was the Highlander’s turn.

Rainbow lifted her head back up to maintain her balance as the 90-tonne ‘Mech shifted below her. Yet even as she did the machine leveled off a bit and continued its march up the ramp, and Dash took a moment to appreciate the abilities of man and ‘Mech. Twilight was talking about how they have to train for years just to drive one of these things. And even then you can tell who’s good at it and who sucks, because the Desperadoes don’t move as smoothly as these guys do.

Dash wryly shook her head and smiled. I shouldn’t be appreciating stuff that’s all made to kill things, but then again the Wonderbolts are military and trained to kill things, and I always thought they were so cool. Hailbait, I still think they’re cool and skilled and awesome. But… I dunno, she continued to muse, as the Highlander marched through the sides of the ship and into the lower ‘Mech bay. Her eyes took a bit of time to adjust, and while they did Rainbow kept up her rumination. All this human stuff is starting to grow on me. Haystacks, just watching those fighters flying through the air like that really drives home the point Melissa was making about her flying. These guys don’t have magic or wings or horns or anything, but they work so hard and do so much with what they got.

By now her eyes had adjusted, and Rainbow Dash looked around the ‘Mech bay and then grimaced. Geeze, they all look like a giant Winona got her mouth on them; huge holes, ablated armor, and pulverized protection, she mused, and then smirked at her alliteration. The smirk soon died, though, as the gravity of the situation came roaring back. We got beat; we lost, bad, she thought, with a frown, as McKenna made his ‘Mech maneuver to the front of a service cradle, and then slowly spun it around. Dash saw this, and then quickly stood up and took to the air with her helmet held by her let front hoof. Her wings complained at being used before they could be fully rested, but it was a sensation that Rainbow’s training had prepared her for.

Thus the pegasus found it easy enough to hover in mid-air as the Highlander began to move backwards. The ferroglass canopy soon came into view, and Dash offered a slow wave, despite the fact that she couldn’t see through the mirrored material. I still know they’re there, though, she mused, and then waited and watched. Her eye drank in the entire scene, from the human on the deck waving a pair of lighted sticks in patterns to help guide the MechWarrior, to the technician waiting at the top of the service cradle, his hands on a set of controls that Dash knew from previous viewings to work the various devices built into the cradle.

Machines for machines for machines, Dash mused, as the Highlander finished backing up. Humans really love their machines, she further thought, as the assistant technician—“astech” in 31st Century parlance—on the cradle quickly worked his controls, which then sent several arms out to grapple and then secure the arms, legs, and torso of the Highlander, as well as extend a gantry that shifted out to reach the back of the ‘Mech’s head. Once this was finished, Dash placed her helmet back on her own head, and then flew over to land on the gantry by the main cockpit hatch.

“One side, Miss Dash,” a voice said from behind her, and Rainbow turned her head around to see the astech who had operated the gantry was now walking towards the hatch area, as well. He wore overalls stained with oil and, much to Rainbow’s concern, blood, and carried a large toolkit. “I need to be able to help if the hatch was damaged.”

“Sure, Pierre,” Dash replied, and then walked forward to the end of the gantry. There she turned around and then leaned up against one of the safety rails that lined the edge, and watched with mild interest as the human checked the hatch seals, hinges, and then the computer controls next to it. The latter required he plug in a tester he’d taken out of his pocket, but soon enough Pierre nodded to himself and then pressed a button on the panel.

“Everything’s good, sir,” he said, into a speaker/microphone built into the panel.

“Good to know, we’re coming out,” James McKenna’s voice replied, and then cut off.

“Why do you gotta do that, anyway?” Rainbow asked the astech as the latter disconnected the electronics tester and placed it back in his pocket. “I mean, I saw them open and close the thing in the field a whole bunch of times without checking on it.”

The human shrugged. “Just procedure, Miss Dash,” he answered, evenly. He paused to move to the side as the hatch klunked, and then began to swing outward. “Something could have broken after being used the last time, and the last thing anyone wants is to be stuck in a ‘Mech when they don’t want to be.”

“That is the most fundamental truth I have heard all day,” said the first person who climbed out of the hatch. Said person was actually a pony, and Rainbow Dash smiled as she saw Twilight Sparkle fairly pour out and onto the gantry. “Sweet merciful heavens,” she muttered, as she stretched her legs and back in a catlike manner. The cooling vest she wore restricted her movement a bit, but she managed. “If I go back into that thing again it will be too soon.”

“A common lament,” James McKenna observed, as he poked his head out of the hatch. “Now move aside Sparky, I want out, too.”

Twilight blushed slightly and then moved down the gantry, which was thankfully vacant as Pierre had turned to go to work elsewhere now that he knew he wasn’t needed. James took the opportunity to begin climbing out of the ‘Mech himself. Normally Dash would watch with interest as she found the way humans could contort themselves to be interesting, but instead she gave Twilight a smirk and then chuckled. “Sparky?” she asked, as her smirk stretched into a grin.

The blush on Twilight’s face deepened from the level of mild faux pas to downright embarrassment. “He thinks it’s funny,” she explained, as she jabbed a hoof in McKenna’s direction.

“Oh it is, Sparky, it is,” Rainbow said, with a nod, grin still on her muzzle. In response, Twilight frowned and then loudly razzed her friend.

James laughed at the two ponies’ antics, and then shook his head. “Come on, you two,” he said, and then sighed as mirth drained from his visage. “We’ve got work to get to. Dash,” he added, in a command tone as he looked to the pegasus. “You should go find one of the techs for our power armor to help you get out of that getup,” he said, with a hand wave towards the armor and gun harness Rainbow still wore. “And you and me, Twilight,” James continued, as he turned his head to the unicorn. “We’re going to go hand in our vests.

“Normally, I’d tell you to go take a rest after what we’ve been through, but general Stonewall wants a strategy session with the princess,” McKenna continued, after a beat to gather his thoughts. “Given our last one I think that her majesty will probably want you two and your friends there, as well.”

“A sensible presumption,” Twilight agreed, with a nod of her head. Then her face seemed to become a little bit whiter as she gazed off into space. “Especially given our situation…”

Her voice trailed off, and Rainbow Dash shivered as she realized what the unicorn meant. McKenna, though, simply reached down and patted Twilight on the head. “Don’t worry about that yet,” he said, kindly, as he returned his limb to its normal resting position. “There’re still options to discuss.

“Now come on, let’s get going.”

* * * *

Whitetail Woods

0841h Lima

Garth O’Connell was, for once, at a loss of what to think or feel. We won, he thought, as he stood on the ground, one foot raised and resting on a crate, while he nursed a disposable cup of field ration coffee. But Hell, we paid a price for it.

So did they, he remembered, as he looked around. The Desperadoes and their allies had made camp right where the Dark Horse technicians had tried to set up a re-arming point, and the remaining ‘Mechs of his unit were arrayed around the outside as sentinels against whatever had attacked both sides the day before. But they hit the horses a lot harder, he mused, as his eyes also traced over the piles of dead bodies that had been left behind by his foes. The piles were, fortunately, well outside the bivouac, while inside the ring of ‘Mechs were large masses of griffons and some ponies who had thrown in with the Desperadoes, most of whom were still sleeping or resting under tents and lean-tos.

Greg’s right, these guys get worn out easily from fighting, O’Connell mused. Normally I’d hate to let a fleeing enemy get away, but we’ll need support when we storm their capitol. Besides, after the clusterfuck that was yesterday’s battle we’re going to need some time ourselves to get our shit straightened out.

A predatory smile stretched across the man’s lips at that, as he looked down at the crate he was half standing on. Fortunately, we can do a bit of that thanks to McKenna’s loss, O’Connell thought. Those things the griffons call “Changelings” must’ve really done a number on the horses if McKenna’s men had to leave so much junk behind. We’ve even got a service cradle out here, though it needs to be set up. Fortunately, we’ve got plenty of muscle for that.

Speaking of which… Garth let his thoughts trail away for a moment as he watched a certain blue mare walk towards him from the direction of the pony contingent. I won’t ever admit this, but the properly subservient horses are kind of growing on me, he thought, as he recognized Trixie, the unicorn who had been amongst the first to throw in with the rogue mercenaries. Not that it’ll buy them any favors, but they’ve stopped grating on my nerves with their cutsy bullshit so long as they know their place.

He was roused from his thoughts as Trixie came to a stop a meter away. “Major,” she began, with a bow of her head. “I have the report from the techs you had the griffons fly out last night.”

“Why you?” O’Connell asked, somewhat gruffly. “You might be helping the tech boys but you aren’t a tech.”

“Chief Technician Newman said, and I quote, ‘you want these things fixed, then you’ll let us get some damn sleep,’” Trixie replied, and then squirmed a bit as O’Connell gave her a piercing look. “Those were his exact words, major.”

O’Connell stared at the unicorn for a moment, and then grunted. “Alright, we did call them out late,” he allowed, and then sipped his coffee. “What’s the deal, Trixie?”

“Newman says that the Dark Horse left behind significant armor and ammo reserves,” Trixie began, her voice becoming just a bit haughty as she fell back into old habits. “Several of which were dumped along the trail they took; apparently, they had to cart more wounded away once they joined the main army and needed the space. There is not much else; apparently the more delicate parts were either not here or taken away. They did appear to have left a service gantry, however.”

“Kind of hard to miss that,” Garth observed, with a nod, and then took another sip of his coffee as he thought. “Newman give any estimates?”

“Yes sir,” Trixie replied, with a nod. “He said that he can refit the armor on the remaining ‘Mechs by up to thirty percent, depending on what specific shaped slabs are available,” she recited, and then paused to think. “I believe he mentioned that there seems to be no autocannon ammunition and some of the Short-Range Missiles they recovered are something called a ‘Streak’ and won’t be useful.”

“No, they won’t work with standard launchers,” O’Connell agreed. “Did he give a timeframe?”

“Two days for everything, I believe,” Trixie replied, cautiously, as she had been warned this was possibly the worst part of the news. “The Chief Tech was adamant that a lack of support structure out here in the woods will make it difficult to do all of it even that fast.”

O’Connell’s face did darken at that, but he made no immediate reply. Instead he held still for a moment, and then brought up his coffee and tilted his head back to drain the cup. Once finished, he crushed the Styrofoam article in his hand and then tossed the remains aside. “Go find Gregory and Garadan and have them come meet me here,” he ordered, in a tone that brooked no disagreement. “We need to hash some things out.”

“Yes sir,” Trixie said, and then began to turn around. She hesitated for a moment, though, as a thought entered her head. His mood does seem agreeable… she mused, and then turned back to the human. “Major, if I may borrow a moment of your time?”

O’Connell’s face darkened a bit. “I gave you an order,” he said, with a calm demeanor that promised ill tidings.

“Yes sir, and I fully intend to carry it out immediately,” Trixie quickly said, as she worked to keep from shivering in fear. “But, it concerns the griffons and ponies in your forces, sir.”

The human stood still for a moment, and then nodded and waved a hand for Trixie to go on. “The griffons have been, well… scavenging,” the unicorn continued. Her tone took on a clear air of disgust at the last word, and her face started to take on a shade of green under her blue coat. “And it is starting to profoundly disturb the ponies who have aligned themselves with you, to the point that many are questioning that choice.”

Garth’s eyes narrowed at that. “And why would they do that?” he asked, caustically.

Trixie flinched a bit, but remained still otherwise. “Because it shows a distinct lack of respect for the dead,” she said, carefully. “And while most would not care about the guards, the fact is the griffons are also taking from the casualties that bomb did to our group early in the battle.”

A silence fell over the pair and lasted several long moments, during which Trixie felt panic starting to well up within her. Then O’Connell moved, first to take his leg off of the crate he had it on, and then walked up to stand in front of Trixie. The tall human then squatted down until he was eye level with the pony, and Trixie felt his gaze rip into her soul. “Let me make one thing clear to you, so you can tell all your little horse friends,” O’Connell began, his tone cold as ice. “You ponies are at the bottom of the ladder, here. You don’t fight well, you don’t react well to change, you complain and you whine and you’re barely worth your weight as workers,” he added, and then brought up a hand to point a finger in Trixie’s face. “You are probably the most pathetic form of life I have ever seen, and I’ve been around a few planets in my time.

“The griffons, meanwhile, fight hard, work hard, and don’t whine about problems,” O’Connell continued, with a condescending look on his face. “So if they want to satisfy their munchies by chomping on a few dead ponies, they get to do so, because one of them is worth more than five of you. And if none of you like that, well…” O’Connell paused at that to smile in an entirely unwholesome manner. “We can always let the griffons treat you all like they do the regular ponies who didn’t join up.”

Trixie shuddered at this, and she kept on shivering as O’Connell stood back up. “Y-y-yes sir,” she stammered out, as she was well aware of the deal made to gain the northern tribes’ support. “I’ll b-be sure to let everypony know.”

“Good,” O’Connell replied, in a hard tone. “Now go carry out my orders.”

“Yes sir!” Trixie responded, and then spun around and ran off.

Garth watched her go, and then chuckled darkly. So long as they know their place, which is right under my boot, he thought, and then turned to walk back to his tent.

* * * *

Some distance away, Trixie’s run slowed and she came to a stop. She simply stood still and panted, half in exertion, half out of fear, and then closed her eyes and shuddered some more. I knew it was a bad idea, she thought, as she struggled to get her breathing under control. I knew it was a bad idea. Why didn’t I listen to myself?

“Hey, Trixie, you okay?” A voice asked, and the blue unicorn flinched a bit before she recognized the speaker. Slowly Trixie opened her eyes and saw another pony whom she had met during the long march out. “Did you talk to the major?”

“I’m scared out of my wits, so what do you think?” Trixie snapped back, and then paused to breathe deep a few times. “He said the griffons are welcome to keep doing what they’re doing, because they’re worth more than us.”

The golden-furred unicorn snorted at that. “Yeah, right; has he seen any of those featherbrains actually do magic?” she asked, and then tossed her head back to let her red and yellow mane bounce away from her face. “Maybe earth ponies and even pegasi are kind of expendable, but unicorns like us ought to be higher on his list given how badly the guard mangled his fancy machines yesterday.”

“Well, why don’t you go up there and tell him yourself, Shimmer?” Trixie asked. She barely managed to hold back the acid that wanted to well up within her. I like Sunset, but I don’t care for her tribalist tendencies one bit.

Sunset Shimmer frowned at that, and then sighed. “Okay, I get your point,” she evenly replied. Then her face twisted as she considered her next words. “So I guess we’re just going to… let the griffons eat our dead?”

“Either that, or we get to be a living meat locker,” Trixie replied. She threw in the human term for good measure, and took some satisfaction in seeing Shimmer shake a bit at the implication. “And I advise anypony in our group to shut their mouths about it unless they want to become an example.”

“Ugh,” Shimmer muttered, and then shook her head. “The things I have to put up with to get even with Sunbutt.”

“Yes, poor you,” Trixie said, flatly. “Now if there’s nothing else, I have orders to carry out.”

“Yeah, yeah, get going then,” Sunset said, with a wave of her hoof. “I’ll see you later, Trix,” she added, with a smirk, and then turned and strode off.

Trixie frowned at the receding pony, and then shook her head. Sometimes I wonder if her stories about being a candidate for Celestia’s school are true, she mused, and then turned and quickly worked herself into a trot. I can’t imagine a stuck-up brat like her would have gotten very far.

The former entertainer let her thoughts drift away at that, as she approached the griffons’ encampment. A quiet gulp made its way down Trixie’s throat, and she slowed down to a walk as she moved past the single sentry left to watch the no-man’s-land between the ponies and griffons. The tom eyed her warily, but said nothing nor moved from his seat on a small mat he’d set down, and so Trixie continued along the lines of the small, primitive tents the northern warriors had set up.

Most of the griffons were still asleep despite the sun having risen a short time ago, though for this Trixie was grateful. The last thing I need is for these savages to be sneering at me as I pass; I get enough of that from O’Connell and too many of the other humans. But at least they only do it because our two species are still alien to one another. The griffons do it because they’re sizing us up for one reason or another. Another shudder ran down her spine at that. Hopefully he is still asleep, she mused, as she went deeper into the griffon camp.

Sadly, it was not to be as a voice sounded from behind. “Well, hello there, Trixie,” came the deceptively smooth tones of the very griffon Trixie had hoped to avoid. She halted in her tracks, and worked to suppress her anxiety as a tom walked from behind her to stand in front of the unicorn. “What brings such a lovely little pony into our camp so early?”

Certainly not you! Trixie though, but bit back the instant reply. “Delivering a message, Targan,” she replied, evenly, and then began to walk again and angled to move around the griffon in her way. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”

“What’s the rush?” Targan asked, as he shifted to the side to keep his body in Trixie’s way, and then reached out with a foreleg to set his birdlike claw on the unicorn’s shoulder. Halted, Trixie could only freeze, and then look into the tom’s face and the grin he wore that was just a shade past friendly and into unsettling. “I thought we had all of today to rest up?”

Trixie took a moment to collect her thoughts and control her emotions. “Yes, but—”

“No no,” Targan interrupted, as he shifted his claw from Trixie’s shoulder to lightly run one of the talons along the pony’s cheek. The unicorn shuddered even as the tom continued. “There’s no need for qualifiers, either we do or we don’t,” he stated, and then smirked. “And that means you, too; plenty of time to just relax and have a little fun.”

“That’s enough, Targan,” a new voice spoke up, and both Trixie and Whistler turned their heads to see a female griffon walking toward them with an angry look on her face. “You know she’s off limits, like all the ponies helping here.”

Targan withdrew his claw from Trixie’s personal space, but still wore a faint smirk. “Off limits for certain things, maybe, but there’s more than one way to eat a pony, Gilda,” he cheekily replied.

Gilda rolled her eyes and flared her wings out a bit. “Ugh, think with something other than your balls for a bit and buzz off. If Trixie’s here that means O’Connell has a message or something, so it would be good for your health to leave her be.”

The tom gave a Gallic shrug, and then stood up from his haunches. “Well, I would not want to anger our illustrious leaders, so I shall take my leave,” he said, and then began to walk away. His path, though, took him uncomfortably close to Trixie, and when his head was aside the pony’s, he halted and then turned it and leaned in towards her. “A word to the wise, though,” he said, quietly, almost in a whisper. The smile had disappeared from his face, but Targan’s eyes still held a certain quality that made a Trixie shiver. “You may find the favor that protects you gone someday, and should that happen, remember,” he added, and then brought up a claw again to grab Trixie’s muzzle. Too scared to move, Trixie remained still as Targan ran his thumb talon over the top of her muzzle while he spoke. “That there are worse griffons than myself, worse fates to tie yourself to.” At that, the tom released Trixie, who took several steps to the side to get away from Targan. The griffon, though, simply smiled again and walked off as if nothing had happened.

Both Gilda and Trixie watched Targan leave until he disappeared amongst the disorganized encampment, and as soon as he was out of sight Gilda snorted. “Don’t let him get to you, Trixie,” the griffoness said, and then waved a claw to urge the unicorn forward. “He likes to talk big, but he’s rarely the kind to go out and live up to it.”

“And yet ‘rarely’ does not imply ‘never’,” Trixie dryly observed, as she moved to walk alongside Gilda as the latter started towards the center of the camp. “That’s not very reassuring.”

Gilda shrugged her wings at that. “Yeah, well, it’s better than nothing. You gotta take what you can get in this world, Trixie, because nothing’s going to give it to you for free.”

“Please spare me the platitudes,” Trixie tiredly rebutted. “Let’s just get to your father so I can deliver the message and get out.”

Gilda scoffed at that, but kept her peace as she escorted the unicorn through the camp. More griffons were waking up and giving the pony odd looks, but no others approached and soon enough they were in front of a tent that was only slightly larger than the others. Of course the tent itself was not Trixie’s goal, but rather the elder tom who was standing outside of it, conversing with a pair of younger girffons who looked like they had just come back from a patrol. Full armor kit, bows, and they look winded, Trixie noted, as her and Gilda halted a short distance away, yet close enough to make their presence known.

“You two did very well,” Garadan said, as the two females reached their stopping point. “You will receive extra rations tonight for this,” he added, which caused the expressions on both of the patrollers to brighten considerably. “Now go and get some rest, I will see to the prisoner myself.”

The pair of younger toms saluted in the griffon style—clenched fists pounded against their chests—and then turned and walked off. Once they had, Gilda moved forward with Trixie, even as Garadan turned to them with the first pleasant smile the unicorn had remembered seeing the griffon ever have. “Ah, this is most fortunate timing, Trixie Lulamoon,” he began. “No doubt you have a message from the major, but I have one for you to deliver to him, as well,” Garadan added, and then turned and began to walk towards the edge of camp. “Come, you must see this.”

Trixie gave an unsure look to Gilda, who shrugged her wings again and then gestured forward with a claw. I really should insist on delivering O’Connell’s message first, the unicorn thought. But then again, I’m not eager to bring down Garadan’s mood and make him especially dislike me, she mused, as her and Gilda both fell in behind the latter’s father. “What may I ask are we going to see, sir?” Trixie carefully asked.

“Some good news, for a change,”Garadan mysteriously replied. He then fell silent; a status which the two females trailing after him copied. Soon enough the trio reached the edge of camp, whereupon Trixie’s eyes widened as she beheld what awaited them between two armed and smug-looking guard griffons:

A human was tied up and gagged, and laid prone on the ground. His head was up, though, and he glared daggers at the new arrivals. He was garbed much as the Desperadoes’ MechWarriors were when they entered their ‘Mechs, which is to say in very little at all. A cooling vest, shorts, and a pair of boots were all the clothing that covered him, though he is covered in many other things besides, Trixie noted. Claw marks, bruises, and puncture wounds showed that he had not been captured without a fight, and though the latter were covered with bandages it was clear that the man was badly hurt.

Trixie felt panic well up in her for a moment, fearing that the griffons had decided to turn on O’Connell and the ponies after all. Then she looked at the man’s face and soon realized that he was not any of the surviving MechWarriors who belonged to the Desperadoes. “You caught one of McKenna’s soldiers?” she asked, incredulously.

“Indeed,” Garadan replied, as he figuratively preened a bit. “Given the look of despair on your face when you came up I figured you could use a bit of good news to lighten your day. Not to mention, ward off whatever anger O’Connell has indulged in today.”

Trixie blinked at that, and then managed to smile faintly at the elder griffon as she bowed her head to him. “Thank you, sir; I did need some cheering up,” she said, and then raised her head. “But sadly I do have to tell you that the major wants to see you immediately to discuss new plans.”

“No doubt,” Garadan replied, his tone more sober and flat than before. “I must see to this prisoner and make sure his wounds are properly treated, so go tell O’Connell that I will be there soon. And, of course, this news,” he added, with a smirk.

“Yes sir,” Trixie replied, with a smile and then turned and started off at a trot.

She didn’t even notice, though, that Gilda had stayed behind. “That was a bit nice of you, dad,” she observed to Garadan. “What brought that on?”

Garadan chuckled good-naturedly. “I suppose that after the horrors of yesterday, I just wanted to see someone else light up a bit,” he replied. Then his face twisted in a smirk. “Besides, if we are to one day rule these ponies we will need the help of collaborators like Trixie. So consider it good practice for keeping them appeased and happy.”

Gilda thought for a moment, and then nodded. “I guess I can see that,” she said. “Well, I’d better go make sure no one else bothers her before she leaves our camp. See ya, pops,” she said, and then turned and walked off.

A grunt came from the ground behind Garadan, and he turned to see that the human had been listening in, if the even angrier expression was any indication. “You are not in a position to judge me,” Garadan said, evenly, and then turned his head up to the two guards. “Pick him up and follow me to the doctor’s tent; it won’t do to let him succumb to his injuries before we have a chance to interrogate him.”

* * * *

Union-class DropShip Heart of Steel

Canterlot, Equestria

1100h Lima

Rarity shook her head sadly as she led Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy through the city gates, followed by a guard detachment of four angry-looking stallions. I can’t imagine what they must be feeling to see their comrades come back in such a terrible state, the white unicorn mused, and then shook her head. I’m not even sure what to feel myself. I dislike violence in all forms, and especially detest something that does such terrible things to the survivors. Images of her volunteer work at the hospital earlier in the day came back, and Rarity shuddered and fought back the urge to vomit.

“It wasn’t pretty, was it?”

Rarity startled slightly as the question intruded upon her reverie. “No, it was not,” she replied as she turned her head to the side to regard Pinkie Pie. The normally perky mare was uncharacteristically subdued, and instead of her idiomatic bounce Pinkie simply walked alongside her friends with an unreadable expression set on her face and a noticeable droop in her mane and tail. “Fortunately medical potions can save the lives of those who aren’t killed outright, but they certainly will bear some marks for many years.”

“And not just physically, either,” a quiet voice sounded from behind the two conversing mares, and they both turned their heads back to regard Fluttershy with mild surprise. The normally reserved mare still looked unsure of herself, but she continued to speak anyway. “I think a lot of them are going to need Princess Luna’s help at night.”

“Most likely,” Rarity agreed. Although her face remained somber, she felt a slight spark of happiness in her chest. Ever since she had that talk with Ivan she’s been trying to be more open and interactive with everypony; I suppose some good can come out of even the worst events.

“They won’t be the only ones,” Pinkie quietly observed, as the group of friends and guards approached the end of the Steel’s embarkation ramp. “I was helping with the field kitchen they set up to keep the army fed, and everypony there looked like the world was about to end.” The party mare paused, and then sighed and ducked her head a bit as the group moved onto the ramp and started up it. “I’ve never seen ponies so empty before, not even at funerals.”

“Well, to be fair, dear,” Rarity said, haltingly. “Most ponies at funerals tend not to actually witness the actual death. I imagine it would be… traumatic. More so if it’s somepony they knew personally.”

Pinkie Pie had nothing to say to that, and so simply walked onwards, as did her friends. The trio and their guards halted at the top of the ramp and then paused to let their eyes adjust to the darker interior of the ship, though when they did Rarity almost wished they hadn’t. I may detest these brutish machines, but even I can tell when they’ve been roughly handled, she thought, as she cast her critical gaze around the various war machines. The extent of the damage became clear after only a few seconds, and Rarity felt her mind start to boggle at the force needed to cause such horrendous destruction.

She was saved from her reverie by Pinkie Pie, who lightened up slightly and then bounded forward. “Ivan!” she yelled, as she had spied the burly infantryman. The large human had apparently been waiting for them, as he was standing nearby in what Rarity assumed were his casual clothes—an idea that fascinated Rarity greatly, even if the plaid and jeans combo made her want to shudder—facing towards the ramp portal, along with a pegasus who had a military bearing about him. Thus the human was unsurprised when Pinkie jumped up and at him, and Ivan easily caught the pink earth pony in a hug. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt,” the former said as she hugged the latter’s neck.

Ivan chuckled lightly. “Ivan is happy too, little pink lady,” he said, as he squeezed the pony in his arms. “But now is not for happy times,” he added, and then knelt down to set Pinkie Pie back on the deck. “Ivan and Flash need to bring nice ladies to briefing,” he said as he stood, and then waved a hand to indicate the pegasus standing next to him.

The gold-coated, blue-maned pony stepped forward at. “Hello my ladies, I’m lieutenant Flash Sentry, general Stonewall’s aide-de-camp,” he said, and then offered a short bow of his head. He then turned to face the guards who had escorted the trio of friends. “We’ll take it from here, gentlestallions; they’re safe as can be on this ship.”

“Sir,” the unicorn in the lead said, and then saluted with a foreleg. Flash returned the salute, and the four guardsponies quickly turned around and walked back out of the ship.

“Alright, let us be going,” Ivan said, and then turned and started to walk off. The ponies quickly fell in behind him as he walked over to the elevator that had started to become familiar to them all. Once there, he pressed the call button and then stood to wait.

“Uhm, excuse me, Ivan?” a quiet voice interjected. All recognized it as Fluttershy, and the broad-faced man turned to offer a friendly smile to the unsure-looking pegasus. “But where are the rest of our friends?”

“Ah, they are all in room already,” Ivan replied, with a knowing grin. “Come, you see,” he added, and then opened the elevator door as the cab had arrived while he was speaking.

Although a bit perplexed by his reply, the ponies around Ivan nevertheless crowded into the cab, save for Flash. “I’ll meet you up there,” he said, and then unfurled his wings and lifted off to fly through the ‘Mech bay.

“Ivan never thought he’d be seeing so many things flying through ship,” the human mused, as he pressed the controls to send the cab upward. “At least, things that were not bullets. Or grenades. Or capital-grade gauss slugs.”

Pinkie Pie managed a slight giggle at that, though her heart didn’t seem in it. “Careful, Ivan, Rarity doesn’t like slugs,” she lightly teased.

“Ivan no like slugs when they come at him, either,” Ivan replied, and then looked down at the ponies with a grin. “Better to give than receive, da?”

“A yah yah yah,” Pinkie replied, stretching the words out with a strange accent.

Rarity shook her head at the two friends' odd discourse. “You two are incorrigible,” she mused aloud, as the cab rose into the decks above the 'Mech bays.

“Well, somepony needs to be,” Pinkie replied, with a wink.

The seemingly incongruous response almost made Rarity think that Pinkie had lost her perspective. That is, until the unicorn saw the slight tinge of sadness around the edges of her expression. She's trying to distract herself, Rarity realized, as the cab reached the specified deck; easy to tell as Flash Sentry was waiting for them. And though I don't know him as well, I'd bet that Ivan is, too, she continued to muse, as the large human opened the gate and then led their group down the narrow corridors. I suppose we all must struggle to adapt to the terrible things we see in our own ways; is it so surprising that Pinkie tries to find the lighter side of life, as she always has?

“We're here,” a voice spoke, and Rarity blinked her eyes clear of her reverie to see that Ivan had opened a large door and then stood to the side and waved the ponies behind him through. Flash took the other side and also waved the mares forward, with a charming smile. “Ladies first,” he said, and then gestured with a hoof towards the open door. Rarity smiled at him—such a gentlestallion!—walked into the meeting room, and then paused to take stock of it.

The compartment was much as she remembered it from only a few days ago, only this time there were fewer humans and more ponies. James and Rebecca McKenna were both there, along with Johannes Schneider, and all three of them looked as if they had recently bathed, though their haggard expressions kept them from appearing fresh or rested. They sat around the head of the table, along with Twilight Sparkle, who also looked as if she had recently groomed herself to minimalist standards, though any expression she could have had was instead replaced with the closed eyes of a being asleep; her head lied upon the table, and her chest was pressed against the edge as she lightly snored.

Further down was general Stonewall, whose red coat and gray mane made him stand out, and he looked the most exhausted out of any being in the room. Yet he kept his back straight and head high as he sat on his haunches in the human chair provided to him. Alongside him in another chair was captain Starbuck, and after that were two ponies that Rarity had heard of, but never formally met: Spitfire and Soarin of the Wonderbolts. Like the others in the room they had that mixed look that Rarity was beginning to realize typified return from a combat zone, though both of their attentions were drawn towards the end of the table; or rather, to the man sitting on the floor who had three ponies next to him.

Dorian Carmine looked up and then winked at the newcomers as he gently rubbed his hands through the manes of Applejack and Rainbow Dash, both of whom looked to be half-asleep and unaware of the new arrivals to the meeting room. The normally brash and proud mares were both curled up, with their backs pressed against Carmine's sides and their heads resting on their hooves, and their eyes were so lidded that they didn’t seem to recognize that their friends had walked in. The third pony in the group was none other than Lyra Heartstrings, who was awake and sitting on her haunches by Carmine’s legs. One of the human’s boots had been removed, and the free foot was rubbing up and down the minty-colored mare’s back, while Lyra herself simply had her eyes closed and a dopey grin on her muzzle.

Rarity found that, despite everything that had and was occurring around her, that moment of heartwarming companionship between two different species struck a chord deep within her. It looks so natural, as if we’re supposed to be working together, she mused, and then shook her head a bit as she walked over to one of the empty chairs on the near side of the room’s table. Ah, but I must be waxing poetic; how could a species from another reality ever be so compatible?

“Ladies,” James McKenna said from his chair, as Rarity and Fluttershy settled into their seats. Pinkie Pie, meanwhile, simply waved a hoof at the commander, and then turned and dropped her body by bending her legs until she was a few inches off of the deck. Then she sneaked forward, towards where Carmine sat watching her with silent, merry eyes. “Glad you could join us,” the human commander said, even though his gaze was drawn towards the curious behavior of the pink earth pony.

“Commander,” Rarity replied, with a nod of her head. She then leaned forward a bit and lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “Please don’t mind Pinkie, she has her own way of dealing with things.”

The humans at the table all managed smiles at that. “So we’ve seen and heard,” James said, with a faint chuckle. All mirth died, though, as he took a breath and then spoke again. “How is the city doing?” he asked, earnestly.

“It’s… quiet,” Rarity replied, after a moment to think. “Most have already been evacuated, and the trains are running as fast as they can to get everypony else out. Where it isn’t empty, the mood is rather somber.”

“No riots, then?” Johannes Schneider asked, curious. “Or looting?”

Both Rarity and Fluttershy sat back a bit at that. “No, of course not!” Rarity replied.

“Well then Canterlot is doing a lot better than Manehattan,” Stonewall chimed in, with his methodical accent. “There was a lot of looting and other lawless behavior when I left. McKenna and I were worried about the same happening here.”

“Oh no, ponies have been very polite and understanding,” Fluttershy spoke up; relatively so, as her voice was still on the low side. Then she paused as if to think a moment, and then looked over toward the humans at the table. “Although, I do think your ship here helped by reminding them we aren’t alone.”

“In more ways than one,” Schneider wryly observed, with a sad grin on his face.

Any further conversation halted then, as the door opened again, held open by Ivan, who had remained outside with Flash Sentry to guard the door. It seemed a judicious choice, as princess Luna walked in, bedecked in her typical regalia. “Thank ye, ser Rogov, Lieutenant Sentry,” she said to the tall infantryman, and then turned her head to take stock of the room. She paused as she saw the cluster of ponies around Carmine—Pinkie Pie had subtly taken up a position next to Lyra, after having removed Dorian’s other boot and was now enjoying her backrub—and then wisely decided to ignore the situation. Pinkie Pie is involved, question it not, the alacorn thought, and then nodded in turn to Spitfire, Stonewall, Starbuck, and James. “I am glad to see all of you hath returned, despite the dire news ye bring.”

“Princess,” Stonewall said for the group, as the ponies at the table bowed from their seats, while the humans stood and bowed. “You have my profoundest apologies at this loss—” he began, but was soon interrupted.

“If anything it was our fault,” James McKenna chimed in. “We just didn’t—”

“Enough,” Luna stated, in an imperious tone, and raised her left wing up and out to add emphasis. “Both of you warned me that success was neither guaranteed nor likely before you marched out,” she continued, in a warmer tone, as she folded her wing back to her side. “And that was before the changelings decided to sabotage our efforts. Now is not the time for recriminations or blame, but to set plans for our next moves and attempt to salvage the situation.”

James and Stonewall both glanced at each other for a moment, and then nodded their heads before they returned their attentions to Luna. “Yes, your highness,” Stonewall replied for them both, as the humans sat down.

Luna had to suppress a wince, though, as she saw James attempting to favor his still-wounded arm in its sling. Thou suffered that in defense of mine sister, she thought, as she turned and walked towards the other end of the table, where a vacant seat waited for her. It will not be forgotten. She then focused on sitting in the human-made chair, and once properly seated nodded to James McKenna. “Perhaps we should start with more specific details on the battle?” she half-ordered, half-suggested.

James nodded, and then turned his head towards Schneider. “Hermes?”

Schneider nodded, and then pressed a few controls on the small noteputer he held in his hands. The room lights dimmed slightly at that, and a holographic projection phased into life over the center of the table to show a map of the battle site, with models in blue and red tones denoting various units at the start of the engagement. Small gasps of surprise came from the two Wonderbolts in the room, as they had not been exposed to the technology before, but they soon took it in stride as Schneider began to talk, and soon were studying the projection intensely.

“As you can see, our initial attacks went off without a hitch,” Schneider was saying, as he pressed another control, and the various models began to move. Abstract representations of weapons fire and vectors showing incoming attacks from airborne units also appeared at relevant points. “We managed to inflict heavy casualties on the Desperadoes’ ‘Mech forces and their accompanying infantry.

“Unfortunately they did not break as we’d hoped they would, and managed to rally,” Johannes continued, and then pointed at the map. “We started to withdraw in good order as planned when they managed to push our flank, but then those changelings we’ve heard so much about cropped up.” Even as he said this, various icons of a sickly green color suddenly appeared amongst the allied forces. “They completely disrupted our infantry, and kept us pinned in place long enough for the Desperadoes to regroup and make a hard push with their still-superior numbers.

“Worse still, they made simultaneous attacks on the airborne groups and our support area, devastating the latter,” Schneider added, and then paused to take a breath. “We lost fifty percent of our support staff, and had to abandon almost all of the supplies brought to the field in order to accommodate a rapid withdraw brought on by the Desperadoes’ push without abandoning any of the wounded.

“Once they had the initiative, the enemy ‘Mech forces kept up the pressure, forcing us to flood the river in order to get us enough time to disengage.” Johannes paused and let the animation catch up and also to consider his next words. “Given the lack of adequate defensive positions suitable for the force balance, we retreated back here.”

Luna watched and listened as this all played out in holograms. Once Schneider was finished, she thought for a moment and then looked over to her commanders. “Stonewall, Starbuck, Spitfire, do you concur with this?”

The three addressed ponies shared a look, and then the two pegasi nodded to the earth pony. Stonewall nodded back, and then turned to his liege. “Yes, your highness,” he evenly replied. “The only thing I would like to add is that the sheer level of changeling infiltration is disturbing.”

“Indeed,” Luna agreed, and then pursed her lips. “I made an inquiry immediately, and discovered to my immense dissatisfaction that many of the garrisons we tapped, and the recruiting stations in various settlements have failed to provide proper scanning for infiltration on the outbound trains. Apparently the original pre-war plan was to have the scans conducted here in Canterlot as they arrived so that any discovered changelings could be detained properly, but the griffons’ attack and the chaos of having to organize an immediate counter-assault left that area woefully understaffed. Supposedly orders were sent out to the various towns and forts to do their own scanning to compensate, but there is some question as to whether those orders actually went out.”

A moment of silence met that. “Do you suppose the changelings could have infiltrated and intercepted those orders?” Starbuck asked.

“It is possible, but unconfirmed,” Luna replied, and then sighed. “Too many were killed in the griffon attack. It is possible some were replaced in the chaos, but ‘tis equally possible that said chaos alone was enough to disrupt communication. It will take time and investigation to determine the truth of the matter.”

“And we don’t exactly have a lot of time,” James McKenna spoke up, in a low voice. He then brought up his healthy hand and stroked his chin. “This is very concerning. They were able to throw a giant actuator wrench into our plan at the right moment before, and it looks like they might do it again.”

“Well, we do have an advantage now, Jim,” Rebecca McKenna chimed in. “We do know that our Beagle Probes can find these things.”

“Wait wait wait,” Spitfire finally spoke up, and everyone at the table turned their heads to her as she gave an exasperated look. “Are you saying you have something that can tell who’s a changeling or not?” she asked, and her expression shifted to indignant once she got nods from the humans. “Well why the hay didn’t you do that before?”

Slight blushes could be seen on all three human faces at that, and Schneider cleared his throat and spoke up. “While I don’t want to play the blame game, the reason is that we were assured that your people had the scanning taken care of, given that our trooper caught one at the train station. Supposedly that should have set up protocols to start looking for infiltrators.”

“And that is precisely what should have happened,” Luna agreed, and then shook her head. “But as mentioned, we seem to have suffered a breakdown of communication.”

“And intelligence,” Schneider added, and then sat back in his chair and rubbed his face with a hand. “This is a classic case of screw-ups on all sides, with the enemy intentions and dispositions unknown and all of us assuming the other had it covered.”

A brief silence fell over the group, though it ended quickly as Spitfire sighed. “Alright, I guess I can see that,” she allowed. “But whatever you have you’d better start using it.”

“We have,” James replied, and then nodded to Schneider. “I had Hermes keep his BAP on while we marched up the mountain, and both Ivan and Miss Lewis made sure to sweep through any part of the ranks that the BAP on the Firestarter couldn’t reach.”

“And I had my boys fire up their own spells and double check everypony we could,” Stonewall chimed in. “I’ve also made sure that standing orders are in place to keep up a regular scanning regimen. We won’t get caught out like that again.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Luna stated, evenly. She then calmly shifted her gaze up and down the table. “Where do our forces stand now? General Stonewall?”

The addressed pony turned to Starbuck, who shifted to sit a bit straighter in his chair. “In total we suffered forty percent casualties, half of which were fatal, giving us a total of around three hundred dead. The wounded are all unlikely to see action again soon, giving us approximately two regiments of ground troops.” He then turned and looked towards Starbuck.

“The Assault Wing took some heavy losses again, and we’re down to roughly forty-five percent effectives,” the royal guard explained, as he took the lead-in from Stonewall. “We already lost many experienced fliers in the initial attack on Manehattan, and even more over Dawn’s Ridge,” Starbuck added, and then sighed. “The pony damage is bad enough, but two serious maulings have weakened morale.”

“My Wonderbolts fared a bit better, but we still took a hard hit,” Spitfire chimed in, and then sighed as she sat back in her chair. “We suffered thirty-two percent casualties, almost all of which were fatal due to the nature of airborne fighting.”

Luna absorbed all of this, and then turned her head to the male McKenna. “And where do your forces stand, commander?” She asked, politely.

James took a moment to think, and then took a deep breath before he began to speak. “We lost two BattleMechs; our Atlas and Commando designs. As you can see Dorian managed to escape with his rider,” James added, as he pointed down the table and to where the mentioned human was still maintaining his ministrations to the four mares around him, though by now both Lyra and Pinkie had curled up on the floor to join Applejack and Rainbow Dash in dozing. “Sadly, though, Franz Mendoza, our Commando pilot, hasn’t been seen since the battle, and we presume he may have been killed or captured.

“In addition, our remaining ‘Mechs have suffered extensive armor and internal damage, which when combined with our loss of support staff and war material means that our abilities will be severely curtailed in any future engagement,” James continued, pensively. “We also lost one of our fightercraft to enemy action, and the remaining one is also heavily damaged, and likely will not be combat effective for some time.”

Luna felt a twinge of concern at that. I know their daughter is one of their fighter pilots. Was she…? She mused, and then dismissed the thought a moment later. Nay, those are not the faces of parents who’ve lost a child, though they are not far off. “I see,” Luna replied, and then sighed. “It does not seem that we are in a good position, does it?”

“It could be better,” James allowed, with a nod of his head. “We managed to give the Desperadoes a thorough drubbing thanks to our better positioning, weapons, tactics, and training and experience. Unfortunately, though, their numbers do count for a lot, and once the surprise wore off and their officers took charge they managed to drive us back, and that drive became a near rout after the changelings intervened.

“As of this moment, we have no air cover, only minimal ability to rearm and repair, and our enemy still outnumbers us three-to-one in ‘Mechs. The only good news is that O’Connell and his forces will need time to repair their damage, so we’ll either have some breathing room, or they’ll march up quick on our heels and be as bad off as we are.”

The room fell silent at that, as every being at the table considered the situation. Then a new voice spoke up: “That really doesn’t sound like good news,” Twilight Sparkle said, to some surprise as she had seemingly remained napping. Now, though, she opened her eyes and then quickly shifted herself up right to sit properly in her chair.

“Glad to have you rejoin the land of the living,” James McKenna sardonically observed. Several small chuckles could be heard at this, and Twilight blushed.

“How long hath thee been awake?” Luna asked, mildly.

“Long enough to hear how bad it is, princess,” Twilight replied, as she rubbed her eyes with a hoof. “Oh, hello Rarity, Fluttershy.”

“Darling,” Rarity replied, from where she had been silently absorbing the meeting so far. “Are you alright? You look like three-day-old cat food.”

Twilight winced at the comparison, and then wryly smiled. “I’ve been better,” she replied, and then looked around the table. “Sorry I wasn’t—uhm,” she halted as her eyes alighted on the knot of ponies around Carmine. “I guess I missed more than I thought.”

“Yeah, about that,” Spitfire chimed in, with a baffled glance towards the human/pony cluster. “What is he doing, and why is he doing it here?”

The sigh of James McKenna brought every head around to the other end of the table, though it was Rebecca who spoke up next. “Dorian is on medical leave, so he offered to help Rainbow Dash and Miss Applejack to ‘de-stress’ as he put it,” she explained, with a tickled expression. “And Miss Heartstrings has been following him around out of concern since they got back. As for Pinkie…” She waved a hand helplessly.

“Pinkie is Pinkie,” Twilight said, knowingly. “But, why is Dorian on medical leave?”

“Indeed,” Luna chimed in, with a raised eyebrow. “He looks very much intact.”

All four humans suddenly looked uncomfortable, with the degrees running from embarrassed on Schneider to nearly depressed on Carmine. “My ‘Mech suffered two big internal explosions while I was getting my ass kicked,” the latter began, slowly. “Both caused a significant amount of neural feedback, potentially causing brain damage. My sense of balance has been affected, and though I can get along fine for the most part, sometimes I get vertigo or have other problems with said balance.”

The various ponies in the room who were still awake all took on shocked expressions to one degree or another. “Is it permanent?” Luna asked, carefully.

“We don’t know yet,” James McKenna answered for Carmine, to the latter’s look of relief. “Sadly we don’t have the necessary medical equipment to do a full brain scan, so the best we can do for now is to give Dorian some time to recover and hope that it’s a temporary effect.”

“I see,” Luna replied, and then turned her head to nod at the afflicted MechWarrior. “My apologies, ser Carmine; I did not realize this was a possibility.”

Carmine shrugged, which caused the two mares at his sides to finally start to stir. “It’s no problem your highness. I understand I look a bit like a slacker at the moment, no matter how demanding it is to see to the needs of four lovely ladies at once,” he said, and then winked.

Soarin snerked at that, and then suffered a wing to the back of his head from Spitfire for it. It was Luna, though, who spoke next. “Verily, thine service never ends,” she said, sardonically, though the corner of her mouth turned up a bit in amusement. It died soon enough, however. “But now I bid thee to wake up the ladies Rainbow Dash and Applejack, for the time hath come to discuss the future.”

Dorian’s expression became serious at that, and he nodded. Then he shifted his hands from stroking through the two mentioned ponies’ manes to grab their shoulders, and then gently shook them. “Alright you two, it’s closing time. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here,” he said, with a bit of mirth.

Although he focused on Applejack and Rainbow Dash, his movements and speech also stirred Pinkie Pie and Lyra from their naps, and soon all four ponies were opening their eyes. Then three of them saw where they were and who was in the room, and then promptly jumped to their hooves and kneeled towards Luna. “Sorry ‘bout that, princess,” Applejack said for herself, Dash, and Lyra.

Pinkie Pie, though, simply rolled on the floor until she was on her back and all four of her legs splayed, though she covered up anything indecent with her tail. “Hiya Lulu,” she said, cheerfully, as she waved a hoof at the alacorn. “You should really try this sometime, it’s reeealllly relaxing.”

Every other pony in the room looked mortified at this, save Luna, who simply raised a single eyebrow towards the pink earth pony. “Mayhap an idea to consider at another time,” she said, and then waved a wing for the three kneeling mares to stand up. “There are more pressing matters at the moment.”

“Which means we should go,” Carmine said, as he started to get to his feet. He had slipped his boots on after rousing the mares at his sides, and now pointedly looked towards Lyra. “You and I need to let the bigwigs get their powwow on,” he added, and then began to walk towards the door leading out of the meeting room.

“Bigwigs? Powwow?” Lyra asked, confused, as she followed him out.

“I’ll explain later,” Carmine said, and then paused at the door to turn around and nod to the others in the room. “Ladies, gentlemen, Hermes,” he added, with a straight face towards Schneider, who offered a middle-finger rejoinder. “See you when we see you,” Dorian said, and then turned, opened the door, and left, with Lyra right behind him.

“Such an odd being,” Luna remarked, as she gazed at the door after it had closed.

“That he is,” James said, and then waited as Applejack and Rainbow Dash both took up empty seats. “But I think we should be on to more pressing matters, if I may be so bold.”

“Aye,” Luna agreed, and then turned her head back around to look over the beings at the table. “What options do we have at this juncture?”

The heads of every force at the table turned to each other at that, and after a moment a silent decision was made on who would go first: “Unfortunately, your majesty, those are limited,” Stonewall spoke, in a drudging tone. “At least from the Army’s point of view; we suffered fairly heavy losses, or at least heavier than we’ve had to absorb in centuries. Morale is shaken, though holding for the moment, and we might be able to help that with some reorganization and, hopefully, some rest.

“The good news is Miss Sparkle’s new shields worked well,” Stonewall continued, even as Twilight blushed. “And the new tactics the Dark Horse worked out with us allowed our forces to buck above our weight.” Stonewall paused, and then frowned and shook his head. “However, we tapped nearly every unicorn in the guard and army in order to get a force as large as we had at Dawn’s Ridge, and filling the holes in our ranks likely won’t be possible unless we consider conscription.”

Luna’s face twisted in disgust at that. “As much as I’d like additional forces, conscription hath never sat right with me,” she observed.

“A wise sensibility, if I may say so,” James McKenna observed, and then continued after Luna gave him a brief nod. “Historically, conscripted armies perform terribly and often have problems with morale, discipline, and desertion, and on the battlefield the conscripts are little better than cannon fodder, even when equipped with better technology than their opponents.”

“My own experiences in the past echo this,” Luna noted, and then sighed before she turned to Stonewall. “I am sorry, general, but there will be no conscription. We will, of course, step up recruitment efforts with Canterlot’s remaining citizens, but I cannot promise you more than that.”

Stonewall nodded slowly at that. “I understand, princess,” he said, gravely. “It’s against my personal preference, as well, but I wanted to make sure you knew of the option.”

“Understood, general,” Luna replied, evenly. “You have mine thanks.”

The general nodded at the gratitude, and then shifted in his seat. “Well, getting back on topic, we will reorganize, as I’ve noted, and though our numbers are lower, the remaining troops have seen battle, so they should perform better in the next one. Whatever decision is made, your highness, the army’s unicorns will be able to perform.”

“Duly noted,” Luna said, and then shifted her sight across the other beings at the table. “Starbuck? Spitfire?”

The two mentioned pegasi glanced at each other, and like earlier a silent decision was made. “At the moment, the assault wing is basically inoperable,” Starbuck began, with a hint of pain in his voice. “Like Stonewall, I’m going to reorganize, but likely I’ll simply reassign the combat capable ponies into support groups for the army; I don’t think we’ll have the numbers or the stomach to make another massed attack anytime soon.

“On the plus side, I intend to take a page from our human allies and their history and make the pegasus support ‘organic’”, Starbuck added. He paused to nod towards the far end of the table, and then returned his attention to Luna. “That is, they will be integrated with the army units so that smaller groups will have nearby support rather than the old blanket system that we can’t provide at this juncture, anyway.”

“I appreciate it,” Stonewall chimed in, and offered his own nod towards Starbuck. “It sounds like a good idea, and my boys will appreciate not having to worry about whether a pegasus is there to cover him from a griffon.”

“Excellent,” Luna said, and then turned to Spitfire. “And the Wonderbolts?”

Spitfire bit her lip for a moment, and then shook her head. “I’m not exactly sure what we can do, princess,” she began, thoughtfully. “We don’t have the magic or special weapons to fight those machines, and with the guard covering the army like that, I don’t think we’d be much help there, either.”

The sound of a throat being cleared caught everyone’s attention, and heads turned towards the source. “If I may interject?” Schneider asked, and then waited for a nodded acknowledgment. “I can see two roles for your force: firstly, you can split up the efforts between yourselves and the guard detachments, with your Wonderbolts providing air superiority while the guard concentrates on local actions and ground support.

“Secondly, you could move as a united force and make flanking attacks on the griffons and the ground infantry marching up with the Desperadoes,” Schneider added, and then started to tap a finger on the table as he thought aloud. “They need infantry to keep your infantry off of their ‘Mechs, and if you can deny them that then they may reconsider approaching Canterlot, or any other city or contested zone where there’s cover for your foot—er, hoof infantry to get in close.”

“I am not sure how that would help,” Luna observed, after a moment of thought. “Our unicorns fight better at range where they can use their shields, and while I don’t disparage the strength or dedication of earth ponies, I find it hard to imagine how they can damage these mechanized forces without your fantastic weapons.”

“Actually, there’s something else that McCoy and Steelshod cooked up,” Schneider said, and then pressed a few keys on his noteputer. The holographic maps disappeared, and were replaced with an image of a set of narrow saddlebags. “The same chemicals that can propel a recoilless rifle round are also strong enough to make a decent satchel charge,” the human explained, as the image of the bags figuratively exploded to provide a schematic view of the device. “One of these planted in the joint of a BattleMech’s leg will cripple it, making it nearly immobile and interfering with its ability to balance.”

“And an immobile ‘Mech is a dead ‘Mech,” James McKenna chimed in. “Infantry can then assault other weak points on a machine, such as ammo hatches or coolant feed ports, or even attack the cockpit directly. The BattleMech may be ‘King of the Battlefield’ as some have called it, but infantry remains the so-called ‘queen’.” He paused, and then winced as he shifted in his seat. “So ‘Mechs need infantry support to keep anti-BattleMech infantry attacks from happening, amongst other reasons.”

The room fell silent for a moment as the ponies absorbed the information, but soon enough the quiet was broken. “Uhm, excuse me,” sounded the tiny voice of Fluttershy, who then shrunk in on herself as everyone turned their attention to her. Despite her normally timid nature, though, she continued to press on. “But, uhm, wouldn’t that mean that ponies would have to run up to those machines and then climb them? Isn’t that dangerous?” she asked, voice full of concern.

James sighed at that, but it was Rebecca who answered. “Unfortunately,” she said, quietly, with a nod of her head to the gentle pony. “Anti-BattleMech infantry rely on massed attacks, chiefly due to the fact that a ‘Mech can simply smash them with physical force. They tend to be a move of desperate or insanely devoted forces.”

“Which is why we didn’t mention this before,” James added. “We wanted to at least try a straight battle before offering an option like this.”

“I see,” Luna said, pensively. She then thought in silence for a moment before she spoke again. “Dost thou think this is the only way for our earth pony infantry to be effective in combat against the enemy's 'Mechs?”

“No, actually,” James replied. The ponies around the table expressed surprise in various forms, from facial expressions to murmurs, but the human continued regardless. “Anti-BattleMech swarming attacks will be the most destructive, but it always results in large casualties. As such I leave it up to you, highness, to decide whether or not to implement the tactic.

“The earth ponies, however, have the advantage of tremendous strength, the likes of which astound us even now,” James continued, and then paused to gather his breath and let his words sink in. “I've seen them able to do feats that humans would need exoskeletons or even IndustrialMechs to accomplish. Their critical flaw in open field combat is a lack of range, which as mentioned in a city environment or other close-combat area, isn't a drawback.”

“With all due respect, I’m not sure how that could help,” Stonewall chipped in. “I’m an earth pony myself, but I’ll be a chicken’s uncle if I can figure out how being able to carry large things can allow somepony to hurt one of those machines.”

“You give yourself far too little credit, sir,” Schneider replied, evenly. “I recall hearing about your resistance tactics in Manehattan; you had the right idea, just, perhaps, not the right execution,” he added, diplomatically. “All our slug-throwers do, after all, is just to launch a projectile fast enough and with enough mass to damage the target. And those of us who spent even a little time observing Miss Applejack’s farm in Ponyville can tell you that earth ponies have enough strength in their legs to launch some pretty hefty projectiles at some good speeds.”

All heads in the room turned towards the orange Apple at that, and Applejack blushed slightly under the praise and attention. “Ah don’t rightly know if’n my applebuckin’ is a good model fer whatever y’all have planned,” she said, modestly. “And Ah know Ah can kick stuff out pretty fast, but Ah’m not sure if that’s enough ta hurt them big ol’ machines.”

“That depends,” James McKenna spoke up, “on what you kick outward. The muscle strength earth ponies have is amazing, and I’m sure if you kicked out something far harder than apples and did it en masse then even earth ponies could be a real threat.”

“The problem, of course, is that you’d still have to get pretty close to do something like that,” Rebecca McKenna added in, with a careful tone. “Even with such amazing strength, any object earth ponies kick would lose velocity, and therefore damage potential at range.”

“That’s true,” Stonewall admitted, and then sighed. “I know we did some damage to the Desperadoes, but when we did it had to be close-in, which is why they’d get back with their damnably effective weapons and cut down a large swath of volunteers.”

The room fell quiet for a moment as everyone contemplated those words. “Are there any ways to mitigate the loss of life these tactics entail?” Princess Luna eventually asked, as she looked over towards the humans.

“A few,” James replied. “’Mechs working in conjunction with infantry can dramatically reduce the casualties of both forces, as a BattleMech is a more attention-grabbing target for the enemy, and the infantry can help a ‘Mech take down an enemy faster, so I plan to have our surviving ‘Mechs right in the thick of it.

“Surprise is also important,” James continued. “Ambushing the enemy is the key to such tactics, which is why they’re best used in urban, jungle, or mountainous environments, and any other place where line of sight is broken up and blind spots exist right up to the enemy’s feet.”

“So let me get this straight,” Spitfire chimed in, and then waited until she had everyone’s attention. “Are you actually suggesting that the next battle should take place within Canterlot, not outside?”

James sighed after a moment of silence. “If her highness wishes to fight the Desperadoes, then it would be the best course of action to give us a chance at victory,” he explained, slowly. “Our ‘Mechs and your infantry suffered a large amount of losses and a hit to morale, the likes of which make an open field engagement like the battle we just had an extremely iffy proposition.”

“But you’re talking about unleashing all of that destruction I saw yesterday onto the city itself,” Spitfire pressed, with a mixture of disbelief and anger. “What good is winning a battle if you level a town to do it?”

“Because towns can be rebuilt,” James countered, with steel in his voice. “Buildings can be repaired or reconstructed. But last I checked even ponies can’t bring people back from the dead,” he added, heatedly, and then stared Spitfire down. The pegasus only lasted a moment before she blushed and turned her head away. “And given the stories of what O’Connell and his men have been doing, treating civilian lives as if they mean nothing, then leveling a city is a small price to pay to keep innocents from being killed.”

“Innocents might be killed anyway,” Spitfire replied, as she returned her gaze to the human. “The city isn’t fully evacuated, and it might not be when the enemy comes. How is getting them stuck in the middle going to keep them safe?”

James stared at the mare for a moment, and then sighed. “It’s not,” he admitted, and then reached up to rub his forehead with his good hand. “That was the whole reason we marched out to fight them at Dawn’s Ridge, to try and keep a city fight from developing.

“But our options grow limited, and the plain fact is that as destructive and costly and terrible urban fighting is, it remains one of the better options for a numerically inferior force to win a defensive action against an invader.” James paused, and then looked over to Luna. “That is, if the political leadership so desires.”

The dark alacorn frowned as the figurative ball was passed to her. “And what dost thou mean by that?” she asked, neutrally.

“What my husband means, princess,” Rebecca began. “Is that while we are presenting this option, it’s not a decision that we can make.”

“The military is a servant to the needs of the state, and the people the state is supposed to represent,” James stated, earnestly. “As such political decisions should be made by the politicians, not the military. We can give you options, your highness, but an action such as an urban battle is something that should not be decided by military expediency alone.”

“Not to mention it’s kind of violating the Ares Conventions,” Schneider muttered from the side. When he realized he’d spoken that aloud and garnered everyone’s attention, he sighed. “Not that anyone’s really paid them much attention since the Reunification War, but technically it’s still frowned upon.”

“Well, we did not sign those conventions,” Luna replied, dismissively. She then paused and thought for a moment. “Are there any other options besides this city fighting that anypony can think of?” she asked, as she swept her gaze around the room.

The four commanders all sat in silence, with brief glances to one another. Eventually, Stonewall grumbled. “None that won’t let O’Connell’s soldiers chew us up like they did while we were retreating yesterday,” he admitted, and then nodded towards James. “McKenna’s troops took the brunt of that, but if they go down then all o’ that nastiness will come down on us like an out-of-control tornado ripping through a town.”

“And the numbers disadvantage in ‘Mechs is as bad as it ever was,” Twilight Sparkle chimed in. She paused for a moment as the room turned towards her in mild surprise at the interjection, and she took in a breath to steel her nerves. “After riding in one, and seeing how they fight and how all the pieces of a human mechanized battle works, I can say that an open fight would be the end of the Dark Horse, and any hope for Equestria’s freedom.”

“Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said, quietly. “Am I to take it that thee agrees to the idea that we should fight within Canterlot’s confines?”

A moment of hesitation hit Twilight, but she soon squared her shoulders and then nodded. “Yes, princess,” she replied, evenly. “James and Stonewall are right: the lack of numbers in terms of war machines means that we can’t fight them straight on. Using the city is the only way to give us a chance to fight back with any hope of winning.”

“Are you even listening to what you’re saying?” Spitfire asked, incredulously. “Don’t you realize what’s going to happen if the fight takes place here?”

“I am well aware, captain,” Twilight countered, as she laid a bevy of scorn on the pegasus’ rank. “Canterlot was my home; it was the place I grew up in, and I’ve always loved the ponies and the architecture and the culture. But what we’re risking, what we’re set to lose is so much greater than one city. We are looking at the defeat of all Equestria and the destruction of our way of life. Even if we come back from a loss and fight a guerrilla war to take back our country, the effort and time under constant tyranny and fighting will irrevocably change the nature of our people for all time.

“Against that, I’d gladly burn Canterlot to the ground myself if it means we win and keep the rest of Equestria the way it is,” Twilight declared, and then took a moment to regain her thoughts as the beings around the table all looked at her with various degrees of shock on their faces. “If we can’t win here, now, then what makes us who we are, what makes us Equestrians will be lost, and all those who’ve died already will have done so in vain.”

Silence met the end of Twilight Sparkle’s mini-speech, and she started to feel self-conscious as everyone kept their eyes on her. Maybe I laid it on a bit thick, she thought, as she squirmed slightly and sat back in her chair. She then looked over at her Ponyville friends, and the surprise on Rarity and Fluttershy’s faces only added to her growing doubt. Yet when she looked over to Applejack she saw a look of determination, and Rainbow Dash’s expression was one of respectful deference. Pinkie Pie, though, was inscrutable as she stared off to the side, seemingly focused on some random point on a wall.

“That was a stirring advocacy,” Luna said, as she finally broke the silence, and then mentally shook her head. Twilight has certainly learned how to apply leadership to war, she mused, as she gathered her thoughts. ‘Tia’s going to kill me when she recovers. “Unless anypony has an alternate plan that can give the same chances of success, I will have this plan implemented.”

Another, brief silence fell over the room, though it was soon broken as Soarin raised a wing, and then spoke when Luna nodded to him. “Uh,” he temporized, and then shook his head to clear it. “Okay, look, I’m not the smartest pony in the room by far, but I just want to ask: can’t we like, negotiate with this O’Connell guy or something?”

At the far end of the table from where the light blue stallion sat, Schneider started to stir and opened his mouth to speak. Yet the moment he moved Luna brought up her own wing and held it towards the human, who took the hint and remained silent. “Lieutenant Soarin,” the princess began, evenly, as she folded her wing back against her side. “You no doubt know that I am the warden of dreams, yes?”

“Wait, what?” Schneider asked, quietly.

“Shh,” James hushed him, equally quietly. “We can ask later.”

The ponies, meanwhile, politely ignored the humans for now. “Uh, yes ma’am,” Soarin replied to Luna’s question.

“Then thou should know that beings often have two kinds of dreams: one where it is a fiction made up by their slumbering brains, and another that is a replay of a past event. There is a subtle difference, and lately I have seen quite a few of the latter from ponies I can only presume are associating with O’Connell’s forces given the subject matter.

“And I can say without any doubt that what I’ve seen would turn the stomachs of all those around this table,” Luna stated, heavily. She then turned her head slowly to regard all the eyes focused on her and continued. “O’Connell is a monster, full of avarice and hate and a disdain for life. And after the fighting of my early years, I know that there are only two outcomes when one fights with genuine monsters,” Luna added, and then looked deeply into Soarin’s eyes. “You either kill them, or they kill you.”

The Wonderbolt stallion blinked as his liege regarded him, and then nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he said, meekly. “I just… wanted to be sure.”

“I understand,” Luna replied, evenly, as her stern countenance softened. “Rest assured that diplomacy would have been pursued, had O’Connell not rebuffed first my sister, and then the two envoys we sent into Manehattan afterward.”

“And by ‘rebuffed’ she means one got his leg’s flesh sandblasted off by one of the invaders’ guns,” Stonewall chimed in, grimly. “Not to mention what they did to Princess Celestia.”

Heavy silence fell over the group then, and remained so for a few moments. Eventually, though, Luna sighed, and then looked around. “Now that it is decided, what plans shall we make for the upcoming battle?”

* * * *

Ponyville, Equestria

September 28th

1329h Lima

Pain.

The thought was the first and only one on the stallion’s mind as he felt consciousness slowly start to return. Eventually, though, his senses started to return, and he realized that he was lying on his back on a soft bed, with sheets pulled up to cover his body right up to just under his forelegs. Said legs rested on top of the sheets, and in one he felt a tightness that he was unfortunately familiar with: it’s an IV, he realized. But I wouldn’t need one unless I was in a hospital. Why would I be in a hospital? What was I doing—?

Shining Armor snapped fully awake with a start as memories came back. His eyes opened and he quickly sat up in his bed and took stock of the room he found himself in. Monitors, IV stand, chairs, bland décor, yup, this is a hospital alright, Shining observed, even as his ears reported the rapid beeping of the heart monitor. Guess I should calm down a bit, he mused, upon noticing the rapid pulses. Then he winced as the adrenalin wore off and the pain returned. Ugh, what hit me?

Just then a door on the left wall opened up, and Shining saw a white corridor beyond it in the brief glimpse he had before a brown unicorn stepped through. “Oh, good, that wasn’t a malfunction I heard, then,” he said, with a smile, as he walked forward and up to the bed. “Good afternoon, Captain Armor, I’m Doctor Stable. No doubt you’re probably a bit confused, but please let me give you a quick checkup before you start in on your questions.”

Shining frowned a bit as the doctor preempted his next action, but then nodded. “Alright, doc,” he said, and then relaxed and lied back on the bed as the other unicorn lit up his horn and started to pull some examining equipment from the panniers he wore. “Can you at least tell me where I am, though?” Shining Armor asked, as a stethoscope floated up to rest in the doctor’s ears.

“Ponyville General Hospital,” Stable replied, as he put the business end of the stethoscope over Shining’s chest, and then moved it around at periodic intervals. “You were brought here after being evacuated from the Royal Palace during the griffon attack on Canterlot.”

“Ponyville?” Shining muttered, but then shook his head. “What about the princesses? Or Canterlot?”

“All fine at the moment,” Stable replied, as he swapped the stethoscope for a small device that looked like a tiny inverted funnel with a light at the end. The doctor then shifted up further to put his head to the left of Shining’s, and then stuck the device in the younger stallion’s ear, which made Armor yelp slightly. “The attack was driven off, and both Celestia and Luna are safe, so rest assured, captain, you don’t need to worry at the moment.”

A frown crossed the captain’s muzzle at that. “You said that twice, now, ‘at the moment’,” he observed, with a hard look at the doctor’s face once Stable had finished checking his ear. “What’s the matter? What’s going on with the war?”

Doctor Stable hesitated at that, and then turned his head to look at the heart monitor. “I’m not sure I should say much,” he replied, tentatively. “I’m a doctor, not a soldier, so I’m not exactly in the know on every detail.”

“But you’ve got to know something if you’re talking like that,” Shining pressed. He even sat up again to lend emphasis to his inquiry. “So what’s going on?”

Stable turned his head back to regard Shining, and then raised an eyebrow. “You know, most ponies who wake up from a five-day coma usually are more interested in what happened to them than what’s going on in the world, at least at first.”

Shining blinked at that. “Uh, well, I’m awake, and in a lot of pain, but I can’t be too bad off if you’re not in here with a bunch of crazy specialists, right?” he asked. When Stable just gave him an inscrutable look, Shining gulped. “Right?” he echoed.

“Captain Armor,” Doctor Stable began, slowly. “You were hit by an arrow tipped with a high concentration of Tatzlwurm venom,” he explained, with only a brief pause as Shining’s eyes widened in recognition and fear. “It should have been a fatal dose, but fortunately your sister asked the help of the humans and they transported you to their ship, where they gave you something called a ‘pan-spectrum antivenin’. I’m not sure how it works, and their doctor wasn’t sure it would work, but it did. Barely.”

“B-barely?” Shining asked, quietly. “What does that mean?”

The doctor paused for a moment, and the silence ate at Shining’s emotional state. Eventually, though, the brown unicorn sighed and then shook his head. “We performed scanning spells while you were recovering, and I’m sorry to say that there appears to be damage to your thaumic cortex. We’re not sure how serious it is, given how Tatzlwurm venom is usually fatal, but there’s a good chance that your ability to use unicorn magic will be severely impaired, with a possibility of complete loss.”

Shining Armor felt as if a hammer had slammed into his stomach at that, and he quickly had to lie back down on the bed as he contemplated the news. Stable seemed to understand his need to digest the information, and so the two remained still and quiet for several moments. Eventually, though, Shining took in a deep, calming breath, and then turned his head to face the doctor. “How bad?” he asked, and then shook his head a bit. “I mean, if it’s not a… a complete loss, then how bad?”

Stable took in a breath of his own before he replied. “At the very least your thaumic output would be down to one-tenth, if not lower. I’m sorry, captain,” he added, after a moment as the white stallion turned his head to the side in response. “I know this must be hard on you; heavens know I’m not sure how I would handle losing my magic.”

“It’s not that,” Shining replied, and then sighed. “At least, it’s not all of it. My magic is what lets me protect ponies,” he said, and then looked back to the doctor. “How can I do that without my spells?”

“I’m not sure if I’m the right pony to ask about that,” Stable replied, softly. “I’ve always been determined to heal, than to protect.” A moment passed as both stallions paused for thought, though Stable broke the silence again. “But, given how the humans seem to be able to do amazing things without a bit of magic at all, I’d say that there’s probably a lot you can do, even if neither of us can think of something right now.”

“Heh,” Shining lightly chuckled. “Whatever the aliens have been doing, it must have made an impression,” he observed, with a ghost of a smile on his muzzle.

“You watch a giant ball of metal fly through the air balanced on a pillar of silver flame, and maybe you’d be impressed, as well,” Stable replied, and then chuckled. “Not to mention, seeing their medicine work wonders on Rainbow Dash, and then you. Granted there seems to be some sort of effect from pony magic that makes it more potent, but it wouldn’t happen if it wasn’t for them.”

Shining mulled over this for a moment, but was saved from making an immediate reply when the door opened again and a familiar figure walked through. Tall, pink, and alacorn, Princess Cadance was hard to miss, even more so when she looked over to the bed and let loose a cry of joy before she propelled herself forward with a flap of her wings. “Shining Armor!” she squealed, as she landed on the bed, impacted the stallion, and wrapped her forelegs around his neck to hug him mercilessly.

“C-Cadance” Shining muttered, though a tightly-clenched neck. “Can’t breathe.”

“Oh!” the alacorn said, and then quickly relaxed her hold, though she did not relinquish it. Instead she leaned back a bit so she could look into her husband’s face, and the broad, joyous smile she wore soothed all of Shining’s aches for a moment. “Sorry, but I’m just so happy to see you awake!” Cadance said, and then leaned in to deepen her embrace by placing her head and neck next to Shining’s. “I was so worried,” she added, as her voice began to break.

The stallion felt a pang of hurt stab through his chest as he realized the suffering his wife went through. “Hey,” he said, as he finally returned the embrace and held onto Cadance with all of his strength. “Hey, it’s alright,” he added, encouragingly, as his eyes clenched shut from the emotions he was feeling. “I’m okay now, Cady, don’t be sad.”

“No,” Cadance sobbed, without moving from her position one millimeter. “I’m going to cry and you’re going to sit there and hold me, mister,” she ordered, and then proceeded to cry softly.

Still somewhat in shock, Shining just sighed as he resolved himself to give in to his mare’s needs. He opened his eyes to look around the room again, and saw that Doctor Stable had quietly slipped out and closed the door behind him some indeterminate time after Cadance’s arrival. Good stallion; he’s getting a gift for that, once I figure out what doctors like, Shining mused. His thoughts fell silent then, as he simply held his distraught wife while she poured out her pain and uncertainty in the form of tears.

Time passed at an indeterminate rate for the two ponies as they simply lied on the bed, but eventually Cadance’s sobs settled into whimpers, and then stopped. “Feel better?” Shining quietly asked, as he gently ran a hoof through his wife’s mane.

“Uh-huh,” Cadance replied, in a soft mutter. She then sniffed again and then shifted so she could pull her head back and face Shining Armor properly. Her face was a study of what not to do to enhance beauty; what makeup she had worn had smudged and run from being pressed up against the stallion and exposed to tears, her eyes were puffy and red from her release, and her mane was in complete disarray from her brief flight and Shining’s stroking.

Despite this, Shining Armor smiled broadly. “You are the most beautiful mare in all of Equestria, you know that?” he asked, warmly.

Cadance blushed and then demurely turned her head to the side. “You are the worst liar in the world, you know that?” she asked back, with her eyes downcast and a small, yet genuine grin on her muzzle.

“I’d have to be lying for that to be true,” Shining replied, and then chuckled slightly at the wordplay. His face then grew serious, and he leaned his head forward to give his wife a chaste peck on the side of her mouth. “I’m sorry, Cadance, I didn’t mean to make you worry so much.”

“I know,” Cadance replied, as she turned her head back to her husband and gave him a slightly wider smile. “You were just doing your duty, after all. That’s part of what makes me love you so much,” she added, and then sighed as she leaned forward and nestled her head against Shining’s neck, just below his chin. “I just wish this stupid war hadn’t come to make you do it.”

“I know,” Shining echoed. The two lied in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “Speaking of which…”

Cadance sighed again, and then pulled her head back to once again face Shining properly. “I should have known that’d be the next thing on our mind,” she said, sadly.

“I’m sorry,” Shining repeated. “But I am a soldier, and a guard captain; I need to know what’s going on.”

Another moment of silence passed before Cadance nodded her head. “The griffon attack on Canterlot was an attempt to assassinate Celestia and Luna,” she said, slowly, and then squeezed her husband a bit when he tensed up. “Don’t worry, though; according to the reports the nice aliens helped fend them off and saved Celestia’s life.”

“Thank heavens,” Shining breathed, as he willed his muscles to relax.

“I wouldn’t be thanking them yet,” Cadance said, and then shifted her face into a pensive mien. “The invaders in Manehattan moved out after that, and the friendly aliens and the army went out and fought them yesterday. They lost.”

Shining Armor blinked, and then frowned. “Do you know how bad it is?” he asked, quietly.

“Auntie Luna sent me a letter only an hour ago about it,” Cadance replied, with a nod. “There were heavy casualties, and the Guard and Army are in bad shape. Our friendly aliens aren’t doing much better, from what Luna wrote; their machines are all beaten up and they lost a lot of the people that know how to fix them.

“And now Luna says they’re going to have to fight in the city itself,” Cadance added, and then shook her head. “It all seems so mad, how quickly everything had changed. First alien invaders, then alien allies, then defeat, victory, and defeat again, and now auntie says Canterlot might get flattened and… And I don’t even know what to do anymore,” Cadance confessed, and then leaned forward to set her head against Shining’s neck. “I want to help, but I was so worried for you I couldn’t even think of being anywhere but Ponyville. And even if I did, Luna’s forbidden me from going anywhere near the war because she’s worried about Equestria needing a princess if something happens to her or Celestia.” Her voice cracked at that, and she shuddered as she tried to suppress a sob.

Shining tightened his hold on Cadance at that. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, comfortingly. “That’s a good idea of hers, real forward thinking.” And it keeps you safe; heavens bless you, Luna.

“I don’t want forward thinking!” Cadance retorted, as she moved back to look Shining in the face again. “I want this stupid war to be over!”

“We all do,” Shining replied. “We all do,” he repeated, and then leaned forward to hold her tight once again, their heads next to each other and over their lover’s shoulder. Even as he did this, though, Shining kept his eyes open and stared forward as his mind began to work.

* * * *

DropShip Heart of Steel

Canterlot, Equestria

1338h Lima

Twilight Sparkle sat on her haunches in the lower ‘Mech bay of the Heart of Steel, well off to the side and amidst an odd rack set against a bulkhead. She had asked, once, what the strange-looking devices were for, and the explanation of securing objects for maneuvering and microgravity still stuck in her head.

Yet it was not this equipment that held her attention, but the imposing bulk of James McKenna’s Highlander in its cradle across the bay. It stood there, alone and unmolested, as it had taken no significant damage, other than armor being worn away, and the other surviving ‘Mechs needed more attention. Its surface, though, seemed to belie this assessment, as gashes from lasers, craters from missiles, and a large, gnarled scar from a PPC made it look like it had been through Tartarus and back.

And I was in it the whole time, Twilight thought, as she looked up at the distinctive, flat-sided head and the mirrored ferroglass canopy that made up its front. Right there alongside James. I was there when terrible weapons spat destruction and death back and forth. I shielded us, and I watched as ponies—as people died. She paused, and then took in a deep, calming breath and closed her eyes as an emotion, familiar and yet unwelcome, arose in her chest. No, she thought, as she shook her head and sent her purple and pink mane jostling back and forth. I can’t be feeling that, not for this, Twilight thought, and then opened her eyes again to gaze at the 90-tonne war machine.

A few minutes later she heard the sound of footfalls approaching her, and for a moment Twilight marveled at the oddity of determining someone’s species simply by the way they walk. She turned her head around and up, expecting to see one of the technicians, but instead was mildly surprised to see “Missus McKenna?”

Rebecca McKenna smiled lopsidedly as she walked up. “Do I really look so old that you need to be formal about it?” she asked, as she turned and sat down on the deck. She sat next to Twilight, but with enough distance to not crowd the pony.

Twilight Sparkle blushed at that. “Er, sorry,” she said, contritely. “I didn’t mean to be rude, it’s just we’ve not really spoken that much.”

Rebecca waved a hand at her. “Relax, I’m not offended. It’s just my way of trying to get you to call me by my first name,” she explained, with a grin still on her face.

“Oh, right… Rebecca,” Twilight managed, sheepishly. “Uhm, so if it’s not rude to ask, why are you here?”

“I came down to check on my ride, and I saw you sitting here by your lonesome,” Rebecca explained, evenly. “Something tells me you’ve got something on your mind, and I’m curious to hear about it.”

“Oh,” Twilight uttered, and then bit her lip for a moment. “It’s nothing, I’m sure,” she added, with a hollow smile.

McKenna raised an eyebrow at that. “It doesn’t seem like nothing,” she observed. “If anything it seems like you might need someone to talk to.”

Twilight frowned a bit. “And what makes you think that?” she asked, with the slightest hint of irritation in her voice.

“The experience of raising three children,” Rebecca replied. Then the grin dropped from her face and she looked into Twilight’s eyes. “I know the look of someone who’s a bit over their head, but doesn’t know what to do about it,” she said, calmly. “You’ve got that look, or something like it. So I decided to come by and see if I could help.”

A brief moment of thought held Twilight’s tongue, but soon enough she blushed a bit and ducked her head down. “I’m not sure if it can be helped,” she said, quietly.

“Well, you won’t find out unless you try,” Rebecca gently countered. “So, what’s bugging you?”

The unicorn bit her lip again, and then came to a decision. She brought up her head and looked Rebecca in the eye. “I’ve been thinking about the battle,” she said, with a little trepidation in her tone. “And what I did in it.”

“Ah,” Rebecca said, with a nod. “So, you’re kind of freaked out about all the death?”

“No, actually,” Twilight replied, and then sighed as Rebecca again raised an eyebrow at her. “I mean, it’s a terrible thing, and horrible to watch and I hate seeing it… but for some reason, it’s not bothering me,” Sparkle admitted, and then shook her head. “And that’s disturbing enough, but now whenever I look over at that,” she added, and then glanced to the Highlander to make her point, “I feel not fear or terror or sorrow, but pride.

“I’m proud of what I did,” Twilight continued, after a moment to gather her thoughts. “But I shouldn’t be. I helped fight a battle that resulted in death and suffering, how could anypony be proud of that?” she asked, plaintively, as she looked up and into the human’s eyes.

Rebecca’s expression shifted into one of sympathy then, and she reached out to set a hand on Twilight’s shoulder. “Oh sweetie, is that all that’s bothering you?” she asked, and then smiled a bit. “For a minute there I thought it was something serious.”

Twilight Sparkle frowned, and then shook her shoulder a bit to slough off the hand. “I am serious,” she declared, sullenly. “This isn’t normal. Most ponies can barely stand the idea of killing, even in self-defense. Yet here I am and I watched beings die in the most horrifying ways possible, and the idea of it doesn’t make me want to curl up in a ball and cry.”

“But you aren’t happy about it, are you?” Rebecca casually probed. “It’s not like you enjoyed seeing ponies die, was it? Or do you simply have no empathy for them?”

“I…” Twilight began, and then shook her head. “No, I would never want to watch somepony die!” she exclaimed, with wide eyes. “And it hurt, it really hurt seeing all the pain and death,” she added, and then stomped a hoof on the deck. “So why aren’t I in shock, or depressed, or even the slightest bit mopey? Why am I proud of what I did?”

Rebecca chuckled a bit, and the look she got from Twilight would have made a lesser being’s blood freeze. Experienced as she was, though, the lady McKenna simply gazed back with an open, friendly mien. “I would think it’s obvious,” she observed, and then shrugged. “But I suppose not having wars as constantly as us means you’re not up to date with all the ideas about it, so I’ll just tell you: you’ve got the heart of a warrior.”

Twilight stared for a moment at that statement, her mouth slowly dropping open. Her stun was brief, however, and she shook her head again. “No, that’s not right,” she protested, and then frowned at Rebecca. “I don’t enjoy fighting.”

“So who says you have to enjoy it?” Rebecca asked, and then waited as she watched Twilight’s brain grind to a halt again. “Plenty of warriors and soldiers train all their lives to be the best killing machines possible, but also pray they’ll never have to actually do anything with it.”

Another shake of a unicorn’s head replied to that. “But I’m a librarian! A scholar!” Twilight rejoined, with a look of despair etching onto her face. “I want to study books and magic, not how to stomp somepony into paste!”

Rebecca chuckled again, much to Twilight’s chagrin. “Then you’re a reluctant warrior,” the human replied, with mild—but still surprising—joviality. “There’s all kinds of warriors, Twilight,” Rebecca continued, as she saw the unicorn simply stare at her in confusion. “You got some that are pretty axe-crazy, who love the killing and don’t care much about anything else. You won’t find any of them in our unit, and they’re pretty rare, but they’re on one end of the spectrum.

“And on the other we have people like you,” Rebecca added, with a hand gesture towards Twilight. “You don’t like it one bit, you hate it to pieces, but you’ll still do what you need to, and be perfectly capable of doing it. You might hate every minute of it, but you don’t see any reason to fret or freak out about it; you know what war entails, and you just want it over with as soon as possible.

“And it turns out that ‘as soon as possible’ often means stomping someone into paste,” Rebecca concluded, with a nod of her head. “You know that, you recognize it on some level, even if you’re not quite aware of it yet. From what I’ve seen you’ve got a genius mind, and I’m sure a mind that sharp understands exactly what’s going on, and why fighting, and even killing is sometimes necessary.”

A pause entered the conversation at that, as Twilight worked to fight against the growing understanding that Rebecca’s words engendered. The mare glanced down to the deck and stared as her thoughts roiled. She’s right, you know, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. You know that fighting is necessary at times, otherwise you wouldn’t have blasted so many changelings during the wedding attack.

But I didn’t kill them! Twilight mentally shot back at the part of her that was warming up to the warrior idea. I just zapped them with… with…

With enough magical energy to light up Canterlot, the other part of her countered, and her mind as a whole realized the sheer violence of that day not long past. Maybe you weren’t deliberately trying to kill them, but you certainly weren’t concerned with their well-being enough to really modulate your thaumic output, now were you? And what was that you said to about burning Canterlot to the ground, if it won the war sooner?

Twilight screwed her eyes shut at that, and she took in a shuddering breath to try and steady her nerves. Then she took another, and then another, until finally she calmed down and her mind shifted to wordless thoughts as the two arguing sides of her psyche boiled away. “Let’s say you’re right,” Twilight said, slowly and softly, before she opened her eyes and turned her head up to look back at Rebecca again. “What does it mean?”

Rebecca sighed at first. “It means that you, Twilight Sparkle, are a person that can handle war,” she replied, evenly. “Nothing more and nothing less. It means that you have the mental fortitude and acuity to do what needs to be done to fight and win battles, and that you have the stomach to endure it with your sanity intact. You might even be good at it, but nowhere does it imply you like it one bit.”

A few moments passed as Twilight absorbed Rebecca’s words, until something clicked in her head. “You… I mean, your people’s history has examples of po—people like me, doesn’t it?” she asked, quietly.

“Yeah,” Rebecca replied, with a nod. “Jim was always the big historian, but he likes to talk about it so I’ve picked up on a few things. The idea of the reluctant warrior is something that pops up a lot, because it turns out that some of the things that make a person a good leader and a kind individual also can make them exceptionally good at war and fighting, even if they personally hate it. That weird contrast and the angst it makes just sticks in people’s minds, so it’s not unheard of by any means.” Rebecca paused at that, and then tilted her head to look at the unicorn with a different angle. “But again, you guys don’t do war a lot, so I guess that doesn’t come up in your history, does it?”

“No,” Twilight replied, with a shake of her head. “No, it doesn’t,” she added, and then sighed. “But, how can I be feeling pride if I hate it so much?”

“Well, that’s simple,” Rebecca answered, with another friendly smile. “You came up with not one, but two new ways of using your magic to fight battles with more effectiveness and safety for your side. And one of those ‘spells’ was based off of a technology you’d only heard and read about, that even humans have forgotten how to build, in one night, and then used it to stand up to some of the most terrible pounding anyone can go through on a modern battlefield.

“Twilight Sparkle, if anyone has a right to feel prideful over what they’ve done, it’s you,” Rebecca stated. “Just don’t let it go to your head, alright?” she asked, and then reached over to nudge Twilight’s shoulder with a lightly-closed fist. “The last thing we need is another big ego running around here; Dorian’s already got that position, and your friend Rainbow Dash looks ready to compete with him.”

The last comment seemed to trigger some odd feeling in Twilight, and despite herself she let loose a giggle. “She’s always been really competitive, so I wouldn’t be surprised,” Sparkle said, and then released another chuckle, though this was quick and humorless. A moment of silence passed over the two, though it was brief. “I don’t know what to say,” Twilight spoke, and then turned her head to regard the Highlander once again. “I know that I kept us from taking too much damage, and I know my spells helped save lives and give us a fighting chance, even now.

“But at the same time, I feel like I’m somehow dishonoring those who’ve died,” Twilight continued, even as she turned her head back towards the human next to her. “Like my pride was bought with their blood and lives.”

Rebecca McKenna nodded at that, and then took a moment to think. “Well, that’s bullshit,” she flatly stated. Twilight’s ears flicked back at the sudden expletive, but Rebecca pressed on. “Like you said, what you did helped save lives and gave us a real chance at victory. If anything, your pride is rooted in the fact that you kept the battle from being a slaughter. And besides,” she added, as she reached out with her right arm again and laid her hand on Twilight’s shoulder. “You saved my husband’s life not once, but twice, by doing something so incredible even your princess praised it.”

Twilight blushed as the memory of the end of the earlier meeting came to mind, but Rebecca continued to speak. “You are an exceptional person, and while humility is a good thing, there’s an old saying about having too much of a good thing can make it bad.” The human removed her hand at that, and then shifted on the floor until she was leaning back against one of the nearby equipment racks to let her long legs stretch out. “Too much pride and you’ll get yourself into trouble. Too much humility and you’ll be too afraid of doing anything to make a difference. They key, as always, is balance.”

“To keep opposing forces in harmony,” Twilight observed, distantly, as her mind worked. Then she blinked several times, and then turned her head to give Rebecca a wan smile. “I think I understand now,” she said, and then sighed again. “It still doesn’t feel right, but… I guess what you’re saying is that I shouldn’t hate myself or try to stifle my sense of accomplishment.”

“Something like that,” Rebecca agreed, with a nod. “I know it’s not easy; it never is. But you’ve either got to make peace with your role in everything, or you’ll end up self-destructing faster than a fusion reactor with a failing mag-bottle.”

Although she hadn’t had as much time to study human literature as she wished, Twilight’s normally rapacious thirst for knowledge had allowed her to pick up on a few things, and thus she easily recognized both the idiom and the foundation upon which it was built. Thus she smiled a little wider, and then stood up. “Thank you, Rebecca,” she said, warmly, while the human stood up as well.

“No need to thank me, Twilight,” Rebecca insisted, even as she shifted back into a crouch to give the pony a gaze of potent intensity. “Like I said, you saved Jim; I owe you, Twilight Sparkle, and I always pay my debts.”

“Oh, well,” Twilight temporized, even as she took a half step back from the strongly intent woman. “You’re already fighting for my homeland, and you helped me here, and it was my tail on the line too,” she added, hastily, and then grinned sheepishly. “So, call it even?”

Rebecca raised an eyebrow at her again, and now that she was not so emotionally distracted Twilight felt a chill at how uncannily it resembled Applejack’s own expression of disbelief. The human, though, remained ignorant of this realization and crouched in silent contemplation. Then, abruptly, she stood and shook her head with a scoff. “Nope, not nearly enough,” she stated, friendlily but with a current of steel. She then crossed her arms under her bust and continued. “Sorry, dear, but you’re going to have to deal with my Moore stubbornness on this one.”

Twilight’s lidded her eyes in exasperation at Rebecca’s statement. “You don’t happen to be related to any apple farmers, are you?” she asked, tiredly.

“Just regular farmers,” Rebecca replied, with a nod. “But that was centuries ago; family’s been MechWarriors and soldiers since the Age of War,” she explained. “But then they say the Irish blood never does thin out so much that we’ll ever stop being stubborn.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Twilight spoke wryly, and then shook her head. “Still, thank you for helping me,” she added, in a warmer, friendlier tone and with a smile.

“You’re welcome,” Rebecca responded, a smile of her own upon her face. “Now, we’ve both got work to do, so why don’t we put ourselves to the task, eh?”

* * * *

A deck above and near a railing, James McKenna smiled as he watched his wife comfort Twilight Sparkle. I love it when my little fireplug shows off her soft side, he mused, and then shook his head. They had both been talking about organizational tasks when they’d spied the pony in the lower ‘Mech bay, and initially James had wanted to go see what the problem was. Rebecca recognized something about the situation, though, he thought, as he watched the two females walk off, and she pulled rank and told me ‘you’re too close, go take a break’.

James chuckled at that, and then shook his head. Women, he mused, gotta love ‘em, even when you don’t understand a damn thing that goes through their heads. At that he turned around and started to walk off himself, but then froze in place as he saw a significant group of his employees approaching, led by the other MechWarriors, minus Schneider. “Gentlemen,” James found himself saying, almost without thought as his mental hackles rose. “Was there a party and I wasn’t invited?”

The mild jest had some of the intended effect, as a few faces briefly cracked in minor amusement, though such traces soon disappeared. “Something like that,” Earl Delacroix said, as the dozen or so others stopped behind him; the apparent leader. “We’ve heard a few things from Hermes about the plans you all made.”

McKenna’s face turned to stone at that. “Really, now?” he asked, calmly. “And is that why you’re all here?”

“Yeah,” Delacroix said, and then took in a deep breath. “We just want to have a little chat…”

* * * *

White Tail Woods

Equestria, Equis

September 29th AD3070/1023 RC

0550h Lima

“He’s not going to talk, you know.”

“I don’t expect him to,” O’Connell observed to Kilroy, as the two walked away from the tent that housed their bound captive. “But it’s not important even if he would; we already know McKenna’s force composition, and he’s smart enough not to use the same tricks twice in a row, so whatever tactics he was told about won’t apply in the next fight.”

Gregory Kilroy shook his head. “So why keep him around?” he asked, impatiently; an attitude he could claim when O’Connell was in a good mood.

“I got my reasons,” Garth replied, mysteriously. “Which reminds me: we need to find Garadan and make a few new plans.”

Kilroy shot his superior a questioning look, but it was not answered as both men were drawn up short by the brilliant silvery glow that appeared along the western horizon in the pre-dawn gloom. Within seconds it shrunk and resolved itself into the torch of a fusion-powered ship. Though they could not make out the vessel against the glare from its drive, they knew there was only one other on the planet, and thus kept a keen eye on their opponents’ DropShip as it raced high, and then arced as it rose, until finally it was a slow-moving dot in the sky.

“What are they doing?” Kilroy muttered. “That was an orbital burn.”

“They’re running,” O’Connell declared, with a mad grin. “Hah! I knew that spineless Terran wouldn’t have the guts for a real fight!”

“They fought hard enough two days ago,” Gregory observed. His protest was half-hearted, though, as he watched the dot of the ship’s engines blink out when its drives were cut.

“And we hammered them,” Garth reminded his subordinate, and then laughed again. “Go wake up Newman and have him get the techs running full speed; I want to be mobile by the end of the day.”

Gregory turned to face O’Connell fully, with a worried look. “Isn’t that a bit rash, boss?” he asked. “We have no idea if they’re actually running or if they’re trying some gambit.”

“What else could it be?” O’Connell pressed back, with a bit of anger in his voice. “Our LZ isn’t far enough away to need an orbital drop, and Grimes will see them coming from a mile away if they try to get fancy, and seven ‘Mechs aren’t enough to nail a fully operational Overlord.”

“Alright,” Kilroy allowed. “But why the rush if they’re actually running?”

“Because,” O’Connell replied, with a wild grin, “The sooner we move on them, the harder the hit to the horses’ morale when we level their capitol.

“And then, once and for all, we’ll crush these aliens right under our boots.”

Falling Stars

by Rokas

Chapter 1 - Overture

Chapter 2 - Preparations

Chapter 3 - Gaining Momentum

Chapter 4 - First Contact

Chapter 5 - Second Contact

Chapter 6 - Information is Ammunition

Chapter 7 - Getting to Know You

Chapter 8 - Ponyville Skirmish

Chapter 9 - Review

Chapter 10 - Stories

Chapter 11 - Endurance

Chapter 12 - Gathering Clouds

Chapter 13 - The Calm Before...

Chapter 14 - Second Canterlot

Chapter 15 - Breather

Chapter 16 - Shifting Into Gear

Chapter 17 - Battalions of Steel

Chapter 18 - Battle of Dawn's Ridge

Chapter 19 - River Showdown

Chapter 20 - Recovery