//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: Operation Witch Hunt // Story: The Harmony Initiative // by Madame Hellspawn //------------------------------// Twilight’s eyes opened slowly. The metal ceiling of the commander’s quarters greeted her, it’s cool surface emanating a chilling aura. The low hum of the light fixtures buzzed incessantly, dimly lighting the modest room. The particular spot on the ceiling Twilight had spent most of her mornings waking up to already began to collect dust and cobwebs. Twilight sat up in her bed, the silky smooth sheets draping off of her lavender coat and getting caught in one of her feathers. She flexed her wing nonchalantly and let it fall onto the surface of the mattress. “Another wonderful morning,” Twilight sighed looking at the painting gifted to her from one of Canterlot’s many artists resting between two shelving units installed into the walls. Ponyville hung beautifully on the wall, under the protection of the sun. It made her heart heavy every time she looked at it. “Here in the middle of...somewhere.” The alicorn stepped off her bed and looked down at the small cot on the ground. Spike was up early this morning. Twilight felt a smile creep on her face as she stretched and proceeded towards the desk bolted into the ground overlooking what Shining Armor had called Mission Control. She watched over the ponies who seemed to work around the clock sitting behind technological wonders she had never believed possible. Terminals glowed a brilliant blue light in ponies’ faces as they tapped the screens and others looked down at the holographic glowing map in the center of the room, writing things down on notepads. Twilight hadn’t known what they were doing exactly, but she felt it best not to bother them. A wall was dedicated to several monitors, each would be linked to a soldier on the field. The thought of essentially watching through the eyes of her troops made her shudder. Equestria was on the advent of a new technological age. Carriages that moved on their own and computers with very minimal functions had arrived only recently. Everything in this facility blew those things out of the water. Twilight was a tad bit jealous they had horded these things to themselves. On a small platform overlooking the map of The Known World, Shining Armor stood, speaking into a headpiece microphone. His blue eyes caught Twilight watching from above and gave a gentle smile and wave of his hoof. Twilight happily returned the gesture. A small lamp flicked on under the influence of Twilight’s aura. The beige folder she had been given from Princess Luna still sat, gathering a light amount of dust. The door to her left slid open. Spike walked through the door, holding a bowl of simple cereal and a plate of gems of all kinds. “Good morning Twilight.” “Good morning Spike,” Twilight said, taking the bowl in her magic. She took a meager spoonful. Cornflakes. Twilight faked a smile when her assistant shot a hopeful glance. “Thank you Spike.” “No problem Twilight.” The dragon tossed a ruby into the air before it fell straight into his gullet. Twilight winced as he swallowed without even chewing. “Still trying to settle in?” Spike said after obliterating his plate of gems. Twilight took her third bite. Twilight rolled her eyes and held a hoof to her mouth as she spoke with a full mouth. “Of course not. Everywhere I look, there’s metal, metal and even more metal. I'm perfectly settled in. A little garden or something wouldn’t have hurt you know.” Spike raised a worried brow, but nodded in agreement. “Don’t worry Twilight. At least you’ve got your friends, right?” “Yeah,” Twilight put down her bowl down on the desk. She stared out into the dark glowing Mission Control Center. It wa true, all her friends were here, but Twilight would be lying if she said most of them came willingly. Compromises were made between them and promises were to be kept, but Twilight had found that at the moment, the most difficult decision as Harmony’s commander were made trying to keep her friends together. She’d be lying if she said she appreciated Luna and Celestia’s faith in her. So far, the two weeks she spent in the middle of nowhere underground was fraught with challenges. Training ponies how to handle themselves in a high stress environments, organizing the science and engineering teams, and even learning her way around the facilities were just a small fraction of the problems. Worries plagued her mind. Twilight feared what one wrong misstep would do to Rainbow Dash, who insisted she be allowed to fly the troops to and from Harmony Headquarters. Pinkie Pie might exhaust herself, trying to keep the morale of the troops up, however unlikely that may have been. Fluttershy was a total stranger to violence, but wanted to help around the medical bay. Twilight had to allow it. Everypony in Harmony would need a task and Twilight’s job as of now was placing ponies where they could possibly be of most help. She didn’t even feel like she was commanding anyone. Not a single alarm had gone off, but ponies were already feeling the dreadful effects of worrying about family on the surface. At times, Twilight even thought of her parents in Canterlot, probably the safest city in Equestria during times like these. They had said their goodbyes, but when asked where she was going, Twilight couldn’t say. Instead she lied and said she would be heading to the zebras and aiding them in their efforts. She promised to send them letters. It was the least she could do for them. Twilight’s eyes wetted as she let out a sigh. “Hey Twilight,” Spike stepped towards the mare and placed a rough comforting claw on her back. “It’ll be okay! We all have rough times, right?” “I know Spike,” Twilight said, voice shaky. “I just...after we came here, things have been snowballing downhill. I’m not fit to lead these ponies into war! Shining Armor would make a better commander than me!” “But you’re an alicorn,” Spike insisted. “And you’re Twilight Sparkle! You’ve overcome so much before. It may be tough, but we’ll get through this. I know we can!” Twilight felt a bit of hope. She smiled gratefully at her dragon companion. “Thank you Spike.” The flow of the blue map in the central hub emitted a red light. Twilight’s heart skipped a beat at the sight. The moment was finally here. The first alarm. “Commander to Mission Control. Commander to Mission Control.” Twilight stood up, trying to compose her trembling body. She looked at Spike, who cast a nervous glance. “Well, something was bound to happen sometime,” She said morosely. “C’mon Spike. Let’s go see what’s up.” *** The Wonderbolts Soarin had considered himself a brave stallion, but the feeling of having two more appendages coming out of his body was slightly off putting. Well, maybe they weren’t really coming out of his body, but the saddles implemented into the torso of his rough crimson vest may as well have been a part of his body. He barely noticed it at all. The engineers had insisted that the Robotic Automated Assisted Grasping System (Or R.A.A.G.S. as Flim and Flam had called it) would not get in the way of normal body functions, namely the wings. So far, they had been right about that. Soarin thought and the arms did what he wanted. Despite the engineers giving a lengthy explanation that had caused Soarin to nod off, he managed to get systems to function flawlessly without their instructions. They pulled kneepads up his legs just below the sleeves of his uniform under his protective vest. The pads uncomfortably wrapped around his joints. Truth be told, a part of him wished he had brought his Wonderbolts uniform. At least then he wouldn’t have felt so clunky with the vest wrapping around his torso and extending plates as far back towards his flanks. The barracks were about as quiet as they ever were. The dust in the air was thick, clearly visible under the bright beams of light from the high ceiling of the facility. There were a few treadmills and weight lifting equipment set up, presumably extras that had no place in the Rec Room. Several ponies isolated themselves here, leaving The Wonderbolts alone to get ready for their first engagement. Soarin almost appreciated that. When Soarin was finished making sure his armor was strapped tightly, he moved towards the weapon rack. He would have doubted the functionality of the rifles and small arms if he hadn’t tested them with the other soldiers a last week, when he and his fellow Wonderbolts were introduced to The Harmony Initiative. Their ‘training’ was just learning team tactics and military orders; things he and his friends were already used to. The highlight of it all was learning his way around these new weapons. The engineers called them assault rifles, stemming from the Griffon homeland. They were blocky and thick, chafed on the edges as if each one of them had seen regular use before The Harmony Initiative was activated. Spitfire picked one up, the hands bringing them close to her eyes. She stared down the sights and grimaced. “I’ve fired at nonliving targets before. I don’t know if I can actually kill something. Something living and breathing.” “First time for everything,” Soarin said sullenly. He was in the same boat as her. If it came down to it, he wouldn’t have time to hesitate, this much he knew, but there was a nagging feeling that he would end up not firing in the long run. “But keep in mind what these things did in Manehattan.” “Right,” Spitfire said with a frown. Her arms lowered as she flapped her wings gently, lightly taking off of the ground. She brought her hooves down and sighed. “Well, at least we can still fly around with these things on, for whatever it’s worth.” “It’s not much. We’d still have to group up back with Rainbow at the sky carriage.” That was just standard protocol. Soarin initially relished the idea of being able to fly with his squad of Wonderbolts, but the idea almost instantly became exactly that. An idea. Central Officer Shining Armor had made it clear that he and his squad may have been pegasi, but as it stands, the enchanted sky chariot in the hangar was for all soldiers, no matter their race. Soarin greatly disagreed, but he knew better than to voice any complaints. “I guess she’s lucky,” Fleetfoot interjected. She picked up a rifle and sat on her haunches, letting her arms get a feel for the weapon. As they did, she ran her hooves through her mane, trying to perfect that straight-out-of-a-race look they all had. “At least she gets to fly.” “I mean, we get to fly too right?” Dazzle looked over at Spitfire, an eyebrow raised. He slipped a holster around his silvery left forehoof. His arms slid the pistol inside, patting it as if it would just hop out on its own. “Right Captain? We don’t have to let Rainbow fly us in. We are pegasi after all.” Spitfire shook her head. “I don’t wanna get chewed out for not following protocol. Whatever the commander says goes, and if she says all personnel gotta ride the carriage, then we ride. Doesn’t matter what we are.” Soarin felt himself frown as he loaded the gold plated bullets into the magazine. “That’s not fair,” He grumbled. Spitfire cast a hopeful smile as her R.A.A.G.S. started filling her pouches with spare magazines, her rifle dangling around her neck. “Chin up! Heard the eggheads were talkin’ about expanding and adding a new facility.” The other two ponies perked up. “Might be that they’re making an additional Rec Room for us pegasi.” "That'd be great!" Dazzle beamed. The doors to the rec room slid open. The silver coat of Shining Armor radiantly glowed under the fluorescent lights. Following behind was the commander; Twilight Sparkle, gingerly taking steps towards the now-ready soldiers. She gave a sheepish smile, standing tall and regal. “Commander! Central, sir!” Soarin said, assuming a rigid salute posture. The three other ponies beside him did the same. “Please, no need.” Commander Twilight raised a hoof. Soarin and the others relaxed, lowering their hooves, while still maintaining their rigidity. Soarin felt his ears flop as Twilight frowned. In the two weeks that Soarin had been stationed in Harmony HQ, Soarin never had the pleasure of meeting his commander. Central said he wanted her to get settled into the new facilities before she would actually take over. It made Soarin’s mane itch. Not that he didn’t like Twilight, but he couldn’t get behind the notion of setting a pony who had never even seen a fight as the commander of an organization dedicated to fighting beings from the endless void. Central Officer Shining Armor proved as a better candidate for commander than his sister. At least he was Captain of The Guard before The Harmony Initiative was created. “I know that we ask of a lot for you,” The Princess spoke low. “But it is imperative that we eliminate the threat with as little damage as possible. If you can, try not to resort to violence.” A part of Soarin wanted to visibly cringe. That was such a foalish idea. She wanted to extend mercy on the very things that had possibly killed hundreds in Manehattan two weeks ago? Soarin would rather shoot to kill than let any of them live. If I could bring myself to do it. “You’ll be heading into a small town just outside Fillydelphia.” Shining Armor spoke. “Pegasi reconnaissance teams spotted several of the same pods used in Manehattan surrounding the area.” “Won’t we just end up like the Royal Guards who first investigated those crash sites?” Fleetfoot asked with a raised hoof, the robotic arm miming the same motion. Soarin, Dazzle and Spitfire nodded in agreement. “There’s a chance those pods could have the same effects on you.” Twilight interjected. She levitated four masks, each with black tinted goggles and air filters jutting out of the side. Soarin pursed his lips at the sight of them. Nonetheless, his left arm took hold of the mask and held it close. A small device jutted out of the side of the mask, like a scope without a purpose. “These are magically enchanted to filter out anything those pods pump out. They should keep you safe. We’ll also be able to watch you with these cameras and monitor your vitals from Mission Control. We’ll be with you every step of the way.” Spitfire shot Soarin a worried look. He understood her worry. The thought of one of his best friends trying to shoot him down sent shivers through his body. “The recon teams believe that whoever sent the pods down are operating in the area,” Shining said sternly. “If that is the case, we need to dispatch them by any means. Starlight would like at least one of these things intact, so try to keep explosives to a minimum. I know we’ve never encountered anything like this before, so I can understand if all of you are scared.” “But this is a chance for us to protect the ponies in that town.” Twilight said. “If you can, please ensure the safety of any and all civilians in the area.” “Don’t worry ma’am,” Spitfire shot a hoof up against her head, casting a dutiful salute. Soarin and his fellow Wonderbolts did the same. “We’ll pull through.” Twilight smiled warmly. “Good.” “Report to the hangar for immediate deployment,” Shining Armor ordered. “Rainbow will see you to your destination.” The ponies gave another rigid salute, followed by a “Yes sir!” in perfect unison. They trotted through empty halls, passing through the med-bay and through more empty halls. Soarin watched the windows leading to several various rooms, ponies watching with concern as he and his fellow Wonderbolts dashed to the hangar. It was built within a cavernous part of Harmony’s Headquarters. Metal catwalks lined the walls, leading up to several bays where pegasi flocked around with several griffons. Despite being the most open space in all of Harmony’s Headquarters, Central denied any pegasi and griffons’ requests as a fly zone. He claimed it would impede troops coming in and out. Another thing Soarin strongly disagreed with. Pegasi watched intently from the upper perches and metal platforms which housed saddles with dual canons. Griffons stared with initial disinterest while Soarin and his friends stepped through the metal blast doors. The center of the room was an open chamber, a small metal platform where a cyan and rainbow maned mare stepped towards the troop transport, eagerly. Rainbow Dash was strapping the harness of the sky chariot around her torso. She slid a blue helmet over her head, a tinted blue visor connecting to a protective face plate. Soarin could barely make out her smile smiled as she waved a hoof to the Wonderbolts walking into the hangar. Only Spitfire returned the gesture. The carriage was thick, boxy and very metal. Four coils lined the transport’s bottom corners, sending pulsing rings of magic evaporating into the air. Intricate swirling designs lined the rims and an emblazoned logo of a star surrounded by smaller sparkles were in the direct center of the exterior walls. Two long barrels fed by golden belts flanked the side of the carriage. The inside was home to padded seats with just enough space for six ponies and compartments for their equipment and even a medical box. “Ready to go guys?” Rainbow asked, voice full of excitement. Soarin wished he could share her enthusiasm. “Yep,” Spitfire replied climbing on back. She stiffened up as the carriage lurched under her influence. The magic pylons had allegedly relieved some of the weight, making Rainbow’s job easier. Chances were that without them, she wouldn’t even be able to get the behemoth of a vehicle off the ground. “Alright!” Rainbow cheered. Soarin clambered into the seat across from Spitfire. Dazzler and Fleetfoot came on next. The four exchanged glances as Rainbow began to flutter her wings and the chariot began to lift with a low hum from the arcane assists. Pegasi stared, doe-eyed as did the griffons watching. “Let’s get moving!” The metal roof of the cave split open, the glowing silver light of the moon peering in, only slightly obstructed by the surrounding trees. A deep chill swept inside, bringing in a light flurry of snow. Despite the circumstances, Soaring was glad for a chance to be reintroduced to the open world. *** The town was quiet and empty. From above, the town was on its way to becoming a part of the local urban developments. Despite its small size, the streets were a maze of concrete, lined with chariots, fire hydrants, street lamps and mixed homes, some made of straw and hay and newer buildings of brick and mortar. Fillydelphia lay undisturbed just a few miles off, blinking lights and streams of traffic flowing without a care in the world. In the center of the town was what Soarin assumed was the affected area. A ghastly green cloud surrounded a brightly lit trading post/fueling station combo, chariots and transport wagons unmanned in the parking lot. The Wonderbolts all put on their masks, Soarin praying it would in fact prevent him from turning on his comrades. “Guess that’s where we’re headed,” Soarin said. “That stuff don’t look good,” Fleetfoot noted. Her face twisted, both brows curved. She looked among her fellow pegasi. Rainbow landed the chariot a little ways outside of the deployment zone, fearing the green cloud would affect her. “Don’t worry about me guys,” She said when Spitfire asked what she would be doing while the Wonderbolts investigated the town. “I’ll be waiting here for you. If I hear any action, I’ll try to keep my head down. Or help out, just give me the word.” “You sure?” Dazzle asked, flapping his wings off of the chariot. “What if something tries to attack you out here?” “This thing’s got weapons,” Rainbow said plainly. She kept herself strapped to the harness and sat on her haunches. “Like I said, I’ll be fine. Spitfire nodded and Soarin followed her into the town’s depths. The streets were devoid of any life. A thin veil of snow blanketed the road, gently crunching underneath the steps of the squad. The thermal enchanted armor kept each pony warm from the cool breeze that rolled through in between the boxy homes lined up beside each other. A few lights in several houses were still lit, ponies peering around the window frames and retreating the moment they spotted Soarin and his group. Several motorized carriages lined the sidewalk, as well as more traditional ones. Barren trees sprouted from small plots and swayed in the wind. “It’s like a ghost town,” Fleetfoot spoke solemnly. “At least we know that some ponies made it to their homes safely,” Dazzle whispered. Spitfire raised a hoof to her ear and tapped her earpiece gently. “Central, come in. We’ve arrived at the town. Do you read us?” Their ears buzzed with static for a moment. Central’s voice broke through. “We’re reading you loud and clear here in HQ. All systems are green. Approach the affected area with caution.” “Aye aye,” Spitfire responded. “You think the aliens are still here?” Soarin whispered, matching pace with the golden pegasus. Fleetfoot and Dazzle spoke amongst themselves, trailing behind. Spitfire shook her head. “Hard to say. Maybe? You know, a part of me wants to believe it’s just Changelings or something.” They approached the trading post, the only building on its own block, and heavy with a green fog and dimly lit street lamps. Flanking its left was a yellow-lit glowing sign labelled Jackpot Motor Station, the words 'motor station' covering up an original sign that said 'trading post'. A roof was erected over several pump stations, supported by several rectangular white pillars. A few motorized carriages sat, ponies encased in green inside, some in mid-motion, trying desperately to escape. Beside the pumps, a green machine sat, the green mist thickening around it, as well as a higher concentration of encased ponies. Soarin stepped over a the webbed encased body of a pony curled up clutching something. He cursed himself for thinking it could be that the mare was holding a foal close to her in their final moments. “Those poor ponies,” Soarin muttered. The parking lot was full of vehicles of all kinds, each one with ponies encased in that green webbing. “All of this and for what?” Fleetfoot’s eyes were full of worry, her breathing heavy under her mask. She trotted up to one of the frozen bodies. “Do you think some of them are still alive?” “I don’t know.” Soarin admitted. He looked to Spitfire, but she wasn’t staring at the bodies. She tried her best to avert her gaze. She fixed her sights on the central building, a beige walled building with windows lining all around the sides. The interior was dark, save for one flickering light somewhere behind the register. There was the occasional trash bin along the patches of grey sidewalk unaffected by the chaos as well as a dumpster on one side of the main building and another at the edge of the parking lot. If there was going to be a firefight, there was more than enough places to hide behind. He fixed his gaze on a dumpster right next to one of the windows. Something moved. Soarin’s heart skipped and he made a dash behind a dormant wagon just outside of the pump stations. The squad followed his lead, bodies slamming against the wood. “What the hay Soarin?” Spitfire sounded, minorly annoyed. “Saw movement behind one of the dumpsters.” He answered. He took a quick peek around the corner of the wagon. Nothing there now. Of course not. He retreated behind the wagon and looked worriedly at his leader. “It may be best to split up,” Twilight suggested through the radio. “Fleetfoot and Dazzle to the right. Soarin and Spitfire will take the left and check out the building. Try to group up around the back. If you see anything, report it.” “Be ready for a fight,” Central voiced. “Scanners are picking up several unidentified presences in the area.” “Gotcha,” Fleetfoot said. She trotted carefully out from behind the carriage, her rifle held closely. Dazzle followed behind. Soarin looked to Spitfire. She bit her lip nervously, watching the two ponies with an almost maternal gaze. She returned her sights to Soarin. “Alright?” “Alright.” The duo crept out of cover and moved up, Spitfire ducking behind a trash can and Soarin slamming himself against a support beam. His ear twitched at the sound of the wind cutting through the town. His eyes scanned the trading posts interior. He saw nothing inside, save for a few posters on the walls and racks full of all sorts of goodies; food and snacks primarily. Anything beyond the rows remained a mystery. There was no movement that he could see. “Moving up,” Soarin said. “Got you covered.” The joints in her robotic limbs twisted, bringing the rifle up to her eye. She swivelled slowly, ready to fire on the first thing that moved. Soarin sprang out from behind the beam and dashed for the door, his hooves clopping clamorously against the concrete. He stopped himself just short of the door and flanked its side. The jagged surface of the walls scratched his skin and made his fur itchy. He looked back at Spitfire and jerked his head towards the other side of the door. She nodded and floated herself forward, carefully keeping a lookout for anything out of the ordinary. Her hooves gently clopped against the sidewalk as she turned to face Soarin from the other side of the door. “No trouble inside,” Soarin noted. He took a quick peek through the glass door. Nothing. The glass blocking most of the counter was shattered and small shards of glass littered the tiled floors in the aisle in front of the door. “Scratch that. Somepony bashed through the counter window.” “Came out,” Spitfire said. “The glass shattered towards us.” She placed a hoof against her earpiece. “Keep your eyes open. We got signs of a struggle.” “It’s pretty bad over here,” Dazzle answered, voice wavering. “There’s a lot of bodies here. Some aren’t wrapped in that green stuff.” Soarin shuddered. He hoped those ponies didn’t suffer, but a part of him knew that they did. If there were bodies of ponies devoid of slippery green webbing, they must have come after the gas had subsided, trying to save loved ones. Which meant that whoever had conducted the attack was still around. “They’ve got holes all over them!” Dazzle’s breathing was becoming erratic. “Oh Luna, t-they’re—” “Keep it together!” Spitfire ordered. “Look, whoever did this is probably still—” “Hang on,” Fleetfoot sounded. “We got movement. I say again, we got movement.” Soarin’s heart skipped a beat and his mouth ran dry. Spitfire swallowed. Her breathing was starting to increase under the enchanted mask. He didn’t know what it was, but something about Fleetfoot’s voice and discovery made Soarin’s stomach twist into a knot. “It...It’s heading into the building.” Another door creaked open. Soarin and Spitfire locked eyes. Neither one drew a breath. Scampering on the tiled floors sounded, tapping lightly somewhere inside. “Bolt 1-2,” Central’s voice broke the silence. “They are inside the building. Move in to eliminate or incapacitate.” “C-copy that,” Spitfire stammered. She looked up at the stallion across from her and signalled towards the door. Soarin pushed the door open slowly, realizing almost immediately how much of a bad idea that was. The door creaked noisily and pushed aside stray glass shards and plastic wrappers. A shadowy form lurched over the green glow of an encased pony. It froze, body rising and falling with each breath. Soarin cursed himself. His shadow blocked the light cast from the lamp post outside. The creature stood and turned. Grey skin wrapped tightly to the creature’s form, wrinkles forming around its eyes and bony arms and legs. The taut leather skin was like a shriveled, spoiled fruit, glowing at the chest with a brilliant orange radiance. Bulbous black pits rested on its head where eyes should have been, staring deeply with an emotionless and threatening gaze. It lacked a mouth, just a layer of grey skin covering its lower face. It’s thin frame darted, scampering on all fours towards a rack of food. Soarin’s hooves kept him locked in place. It raised a frail arm, a silver plated device beginning to glow green. A webbed hand stabilized the device as the light grew in intensity. Bratatat! Smoke gathered at out of the barrel of Soarin’s rifle. A sickly green ichor poured out of the creature’s head where several bullets met their mark. A knot formed in his stomach. He felt sick. “Holy sun and stars,” He muttered, his hooves carrying his trembling body towards the creature’s body. A part of him wanted to poke it, feel it’s rough skin against his hooves and then stomp its Celestia-damned head in. Another part of him wanted to throw up. He stood over the corpse, watching it spasm and twitch unnaturally. The webbed fingers reached out towards Soarin. The stallion remained where he was, breathing heavily as its hand fell and body remained completely motionless. His hooves had failed him again, remaining locked in position. “T-that was,” Spitfire stammered, entering slowly. “Oh Luna, that was really something from the stars. I don’t think we’d ever see anything like that here in Equestria!” Soarin wasn’t sure whether or not he shared her bewilderment. These were the things that caused so much chaos? They were so...unimpressive. Soarin expected more but at the same time was glad it was just these things. A threatening brute of a monster may have made Soarin tuck tail and run back to Rainbow. Fwip! Fwip! Fwip! Green bolts soared through the air, two splashing against the wall and one straight into Soarin’s side. With a yelp, he flapped his wings and brought himself to the side of the racks. He winced as he landed on his haunches, back against the uncomfortable shelved surface. He looked down at his side, grunting while he turned his head. “Not good,” He grunted. Whatever he got shot with, tore a clean, charred hole through his armor and straight into his ribs. Blood rushed and trickled from the wound and stained his vest, a searing hot sensation flowed and diffused throughout his body. Soarin stamped a hoof on the ground and bit a forehoof, holding back tears. Bratatatatat! Spitfire shot towards the bit register, the bullet casings landing in a heap beside Soarin. She stood with grit teeth, unwavering as her robotic arms took most of the rifle’s recoil. She stared for a moment after she finished firing, breathing shakily. She turned her head towards Soarin. “Soarin!” Her eyes shot to his blood soaked hoof. “Oh my—Y-you’re bleeding!” Soarin nodded slowly, managing a grim smile. “Glad to see your eyes still work.” Spitfire trotted to Soarin’s side, examining the wound. She grimaced and looked up at Soarin with sullen, watering eyes. “Y-you’re gonna be okay! Alri—” Fwip! Fwip! Fwip! Spitfire ducked, narrowly dodging three energy bolts, each shattering a window behind her. Her arms raised, the rifle starting to blast blindly towards the register window, Spitfire rising and backing towards the shattered glass behind her, taking aim as she did so. Bratatatatat! Click! “Holy…”Spitfire bit her lip. “I got it. Wow, I can’t believe…” She brought her sights back to Soarin, who was beginning to rise up. He winced, but fought through the pain, allowing himself to rest on the rack, knocking over some candy. His rifle slung around his neck, his R.A.A.G.S. trying their best to assist the wounded stallion, it reached into a saddlebag and pulled out a thick white rag, and roughly applied itself onto the wound. “Commander? Central?” Spitfire panicked. “Is he—” "Soarin will be fine,” Twilight reassured. “Let’s...Let’s try and finish up here. Scanners indicate three more enemies in the area.” “R-roger.” Spitfire trotted again to Soarin’s side. “I’m gonna bring you back to Rainbow.” “No,” Soarin shook his head. “Group up with Fleetfoot and Dazzle. I’ll be fine.” Bratatatat! The shots were muffled inside, but echoed throughout the town. Spitfire looked out of the window. “We got them pinned out here!” Fleetfoot shouted into the radio. The exchange clamoured, ringing into Soarin’s ears. He looked towards the side window, watching his two squadmates peeking over the cover of a dumpster, firing relentlessly to an unseen target. Rage built up in Fleetfoot’s eyes, the flash of each shot taken with her rifle reflecting the burning anger beneath her mask. She took a moment to dump her magazine, dropping it carelessly on the concrete with an almost inaudible clack! before she popped another one in her rifle and continued to fire in rapid bursts. Dazzle took aim quickly and fired, eyes wide and grimacing with each shot. His left hind-leg dangled above the ground, dripping thick crimson liquid down his hoof. It was clear that his shots weren’t as accurate as he wanted them to be. Beams of green darted past them, dissipating the further along they flew into the air. Spitfire glided towards the window, Soarin limping his way behind. The mare crashed through the glass and set herself down beside a wide wooden bench, taking aim, crouching down and firing. Bratatatatat! Bratatatatat! Bratatatatat! Fwip! Fwip! Fwip! Fwip! Fwip! Fwip! Death rained all around the ponies, Soarin watching from behind the front line. He peeked a head out from the window. There was two of the monsters left hiding behind a motorized carriage, a third scrambling with a bleeding leg, trying to get to its comrades before one of Dazzle’s panicked bullets dug itself into its chest stopping the creature entirely. Soarin’s rifle was still slung around his neck and one of his arms was busy keeping his wound sealed up. The other reached for the holster halfway down his forehoof and slid out the sidearm, bringing it up to his sights. Bang! Bang! His aim was off, and the two creatures diverted their attention for a moment. Dazzle fired again, grazing the elongated head of one of the enemies. It turned back towards the stallion and raised its arm, the device on its forearm beginning to glow. Dazzle stood, panicked, hooves trying to decide what the best course of action was. He took two steps out from behind the safety of the dumpster. “Dazzle get down!” Soarin shouted. The stallion just turned his head, body heaving and completely oblivious to what Soarin just said. Fwip! Fwip! Fwip! Dazzle’s eyes went wide, blood spurting from his mouth. His R.A.A.G.S went limp, as did he, save for his forehooves which gripped and clawed desperately on his throat where the bolts of green struck. He coughed and struggled as Fleetfoot dragged him beside her next to the dumpster. Spitfire let out a monstrous roar, one of her graspers reaching into her saddlebags and pulling out a metal ball. A grenade. She pulled the pin and gave it a hard throw before dipping down and galloping over to Dazzle. It bounced lightly, rolling underneath what the creatures were using as cover. They blinked their leathery eyelids. BOOOM! The chariot erupted, sending chunks of metal and wood all around. Even from where Soarin was standing inside the station, he felt the heat of the raging fires rush over him. It’d take a miracle for anything to have survived that. Soarin’s side erupted with pain once again as he ducked, a stray piece of debris spinning wildly towards his head. “No!” Fleetfoot’s scream echoed. Soarin turned to the green chipping dumpster, laden with scorch marks. Dazzle still coughed and sputtered, but his eyes were barely staying open. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! Stay with me!” Blood erupted from the stallion’s muzzle as a response. Soarin made his way towards the side door, cursing under his breath as shards of glass poked under his hooves. He ignored it and limped as fast as his hooves could carry him. “Spitfire!” Fleetfoot pleaded, tearing off her mask. Tears streaked down her cheeks and her lips quivered. “T-t-there’s gotta b-be something we can do! We gotta get him help!” "He's..." Twilight spoke through the radio. Soarin could hear her ragged breaths and chewed on his tongue. "His vitals are.... Dazzle wasn’t moving anymore. His hooves fell limp at his sides and the blood freely flowed from the holes torn in his neck, staining Fleetfoot’s arctic blue hooves and pooling around her. He lay motionless. Fleetfoot covered the wound with her own hooves and whispered to the lifeless stallion through grit teeth. “Fleetfoot...” Spitfire swallowed and drew in a heavy breath. “He’s gone. I’m...I’m sorry.” Soarin fell to his haunches, ignoring the pain. He bit his lip and looked away from the crying Fleetfoot. Rainbow Dash was flying through the air, bringing the sky carriage with her. Breathing became harder for Soarin, but he fought through it. Soarin wanted to lay down. Forget that any of this had just happened. He closed his eyes. The image of Dazzle taking three bolts to the neck burned beneath his eyelids. Even through his closed eyes, a warm tear managed to break through and slide down his cheek. *** “Four unidentified individuals have been sighted in the small town of Pearlhaven. Witnesses claim they were fighting the unidentified and possible assailants of the attack on the town; similar in nature to the attack on Manehattan two weeks ago. According to several eyewitnesses watching from the safety of their homes, the four ponies were clad in unrecognizable armor, and had access to highly advanced weapons, including a rapid fire variants of Griffon firearms. One of the ponies involved was reported to have fallen in action, but after an explosive was set off, the fighting ceased and the ponies were spotted leaving the scene via a pegasus pulled carriage. “No more information was reported and the Royal Guard are currently investigating the site of the attack. We’ll have more on this story soon. For now, this is Lucy Song of the Equestrian News Broadcasting Network signing off.” *** After Action Report: Captain Spitfire >>> Active Lieutenant Soarin >>> Wounded (14 Days) Corporal Fleetfoot >>> Active Private Dazzle >>> KIA Alien bodies have been recovered. Alien weapon fragments have been recovered. ***