//------------------------------// // 13. The Skirmish of the Eastern Coast // Story: The Red Sun Rises: Homefront // by The Atlantean //------------------------------// Captain Reynolds of the United States Navy ship USS Ticonderoga stood on the bridge of his command, staring at the sheet of paper in his hands. He had just signed an official military alliance with a horse, and a crimson-coated winged one at that. And all the horse wanted in return for not attacking the country was help in defeating some race called Changelings. Whatever the hell they are. “Sir, a third wave of bugs is coming from the south. It’s a lot bigger than the other two.” The radar operator looked nervously at his captain. “I’m not sure if we won’t lose any of the ships.” “How many bugs you think are coming?” Reynolds asked. “Very many bugs, sir.” “How many?” “Oh, sorry, sir. A shit-ton, sir.” “Thank you.” Captain Reynolds sounded exasperated. The black specks came towards the steel ships of the twenty-first century at backbreaking speed. They kept low above the water in a mile-wide wedge formation. There must be more than three thousand in this wave alone. The three destroyers closest to the bugs opened fire with several salvos of deafening booms. Their frontal turrets spun slowly to target advancing enemies and fired. Most of the shots missed, so the destroyer captains switched to the CIWS Gatling guns. Thousands if not millions of bullets streaked towards the Changeling attackers and knocked them out in droves. “Commander Rachel, you are clear to fire the Sea Whiz!” Reynolds called to his gunnery officer. The ancient cruiser which was Reynolds’ command engaged the Changelings with the CIWS gun mounted on her bow. Soon, the other ships in the rear of the tiny fleet opened fire. The air was alive with the overwhelming sounds of rapid fire and cries of death and pain. After a while, the Changelings pulled back and the fast attack submarine that had been underwater the whole time surfaced. Its bow flew high up and slammed into a dozen retreating Changelings, splattering their green blood on the shiny black submarine. The submarine splashed back down and wiped the Changelings off with the sheer impact. One of the first destroyers to engage, USS Bainbridge, suddenly started acting strange. Its frontal turret spun wildly, the CIWS guns whirled around, and gunfire broke out belowdecks. Her captain reached the Radioman’s station on the bridge and sent a call for defenders. He claimed his crew was firing at itself. Something was up. His transmission was interrupted by gunfire and many cries of pain. No other radio activity came from the destroyer afterwards. Instead, her frontal turret bore down on her sister ship, USS John Paul Jones. It fired and a hole appeared in the other destroyer. Captain Reynolds instantly knew what happened: Bainbridge had been taken by the bugs, and they were using her. “All ships, fire on Bainbridge! She’s been taken!” All guns that could bear on the now-hostile ship did. Less than a minute after the bugs had fired on John Paul Jones, holes were being ripped into the side of the ship. Suddenly, a geyser of seawater spewed up along the side and Bainbridge whipped around like an out-of-control merry-go-round. The geyser reached the tip of the mast and water fell on top of the deck and superstructure. The sound of creaking steel resonated through the air as the destroyer split in half and sank. Reynolds stared at the wreckage for a moment before it hit him. The submarine torpedoed her former ally in defense of the fleet. Changelings dove over the side, flying back to land as fast as those holey wings could carry them. If Crimson Dawn hadn’t said the the only Changeling really capable of feeling emotion was Chrysalis herself, the captain would’ve sworn the ones that came closest to Ticonderoga had the look of pure terror plastered on their faces. Others remained on the doomed vessel, unable to fly or swim. They accepted their fate even as lifeboats from the other ships came to pick them up. It was apparently flee or die. No surrender. The main magazine overheated from the fires started by the torpedo and Bainbridge became nothing more than a sinking pile of steel. She sank below the waves, never to be seen again. ------------------- Chrysalis didn’t know what to say. Her army’s deception as part of that alien crew backfired, destroying the vessel she hoped to capture. The Equestrian army had arrived as well. They would be dealt with later. For now, these high-tech aliens had to be defeated. Unless she attacked the army and took out most of that fleet, they wouldn’t leave the area to her. She fumed. Damn creatures from another world. She figured that out after the first wave. Where else could such power come from? Three waves, several thousand of her minions, and only one fucking ship was destroyed. The Changeling Queen sighed frustratingly, knowing that the road to victory would be a lot harder than the Canterlot wedding attack. And rumor had it there was only one princess alive in Equestria, the one she impersonated. Mi Amore Cadenza. Apparently, Celestia was to the east, and Luna and that miserable purple one - she searched her mind, then found her name - Twilight Sparkle, were dead. But the one princess left had an army and an extremely capable leader for it, not to mention these bipedal aliens to distract the Changeling advance. Chrysalis walked outside the small house she had turned into her command post. The deep green paint was peeling, the windows and doors really needed a makeover, and the place was practically falling apart, but it was shelter, sturdier than the “borrowed” tents used by her minions. In the distance, she saw the tiny wisps of smoke that signaled the Equestrian camp. It was close; only ten miles due north. Maybe she could take out the Equestrian army. Then Baltimare would be hers, whether or not the aliens did anything. That was a start.