//------------------------------// // 35. One Last Time (Battle of the Crystal Empire Part 2) // Story: The Red Sun Rises: Homefront // by The Atlantean //------------------------------// “What do you want with us, Sombra?” Twilight asked. She, Luna, and the other fifteen alicorns whose souls had been trapped within the Gem, had horn locks and wings binds in place as soon as they’d been pulled into the castle. Twilight, being a feisty prisoner, also had three Crystal guards holding her in place with heavy iron chains. Pulling against the guards, she was the most defiant of all the alicorns there. “You have lost.” “Twilight Midnight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, if I recall. The Element of Magic as well. Even after death and revival, you are still as resistant as ever. Oblivious, too.” Sombra replied in his cold voice. It sent a chill down the violet-coated pony before him. “My second name is of no concern to you.” “As you wish, my dear.” Sombra’s eyes flickered from hers to the great crystal door behind her. They opened so slowly a snail could’ve gone faster. Beyond it was a single object covered in dark crystals. The King of Shadows lifted it over to him. “Princess Twilight, I have watched every mare who has ever lived after my banishment to the Frozen North. Luna was quite the tempting choice, as were Queen Atlanta, Rose Thorn, Sunset Shimmer, and even your own pupil, to name a few. However, my observations have led me to conclude that you are the perfect choice for my queen.” “Your what?” Twilight sputtered. “I don’t plan on marrying anypony for at least a few years!” Then it struck. “This long, bloody war, the destruction of the Tree of Harmony, the A-mare-i-can ships coming through rifts - you caused all of it? All because you wanted me for your bride?!” “The war, yes. Everything else was a mere side effect of it. I did not pull the ships bearing a star-spangled banner into our world. In fact, I had not even planned for it. The only rift I ‘meddled with’ was the one that sent your dear Princess Celestia to a magic-barren world. Her resolve and ability to make allies was something I considered not. As for the Tree, I did not expect it to explode. I was about to call an end to the war when I felt your presence in the Gem! It was invigorating; not a day went by when I did not visit the Gem, basking in your magical aura.” “That’s creepy.” “You don’t understand! It was not Mi Amore Cadenza that I wished for when you first came to this land, nor was it any of your friends - or even a simple pony in my own kingdom - that attracted me to accelerate my plans. It was you! I have fallen, and you are the only mare who can not only bring me back up again, but prevent the loss of those you love!” Twilight was at a loss for words. “I need to think about this.” “Granted. You have until the Sun reaches its peak.” ---------------------- Crimson Dawn still stared at the gaping crater where the proud Domination Army had been not an hour ago. All that was left of King Flawless Ice and his three hundred thousand brave ponies, charging towards technologically advanced enemies, were four ragged, half-strength regiments. These still took up their flags and crossed the smoldering remains of their comrades, rallying to the sole surviving officer, a blueberry-colored thestral in night-black steel armor. As he watched, the torn banners flew high above their respective troops. The thestral looked familiar, kind of like his old friend Bats, lost to battle in the Atlantean-Dominion War. Like his identical twin. But the way he carried himself was different. Either way, he still instilled in his brethren a will to succeed. The ponies nearby hollered their battle cries into the mid-morning sky, still dark with ash from the Gem’s unexpected destruction. He turned to his regiment. The Second Coastal was old, it was veteran, but most importantly, it was family. Crimson had been through so much with them in wars past, each one of them was the dearest friend he could ask for. Faces he knew were still there: the Unicorn Nightfall, the Earth pony mare Mango, the Pegasus Clockwork. All of them were here now, ready for one last charge. A familiar voice drifted into Crimson’s ears. “It’s a nice day out. A good day to be with friends.” “Platinum Starlight? What are you doing here?” he asked, startled. “You seriously think I’d stay out at sea when my regiment, my family, are going into the fray? No, brother, if we go, we go together. With our comrades.” Looking back at the familiar faces they knew from battles past, so many years ago, he smiled. “Red, I think we need a speech.” Crimson was about to reply when a sudden orange fireball shot up into the sky directly above the Crystal wall. It was followed by five more just like it as hot shrapnel fell onto open ammunition boxes and exploded. More earth flew in all directions, splattering ponies and covering the barbed wire. Some slammed into the minefield, which set off more explosions and concussions and overpressured reports. “Unfurl the battle flags,” Crimson called. “We’ve been hiding behind this hill long enough.” The Atlantean battle flags were raised noisily up the wooded flagstaffs. The colors of the Second Coastal Regiment, Atlantean Reserve Emergency Army, finally became seen by all sides above the low hills and through holes in the white smoke. They fluttered in the three-knot wind fifty pony-heights above the terrain. Turning to face his troops once again, Crimson spoke. “I know you all want a speech, so here goes: I have no more right than anypony in this universe, not even our beloved Queen Atlanta herself, to ask any more from you. But I’m asking. I ask that you make this final charge on this final battle, this final day. We’ll go down in history; it’s already happened. But, one last time, I ask you to follow me on the field of battle. For your brothers, your sisters, your friends! For your sweethearts! For your spouses!” He paused for effect. “For home!” The cheer, building for years of patient waiting for him to rally them in speech instead of actions, finally burst its bubble. They yelled their triumph, their battle cries, their joys. They waved their repeaters in the air; they swung the great, tattered regimental flags. They were louder than the distant twenty-pound cannons. Then five hundred of the bravest ponies in history stepped into hell, charging behind Crimson and Platinum at full gallop across the open field, clear of mines and wire, and onto the sloping earthen wall where the enemy lay. -------------------- “Look, sir! They’re pulling to our left! Those explosions must’ve opened a damn big hole in their line!” Colonel Flintstone said. Major Midnight Shadow stared through his binoculars. “You’re right. Sound the preparations. We charge in ten!” Two small bugle horns sounded their low notes, shaking in the frozen air. The Dazzleflash Rangers and 1st Manehattan hurried from their watch posts and into three ranks of uniformed, determined ponies, separated by two feet of space where one regiment stopped and the other began. “Wedge formation!” Midnight called. The ranks on the edges pulled back, using a domino-like effect to pull those beside them into an angled line. The point was in the extreme center of the two regiments, creating a single arrowhead tipped with cold steel. “Wait for it…. Wait for it…. Now!” Flintstone whispered to Midnight. “An honor, sir.” “You as well.” The officers walked over the low hill two miles from the Causeway. The center of the wedge, they represented the core. “Charge!” Seven hundred ponies galloped across the field. They glided over the bumps where mines lay and dove over the snow-choked barbed wire. The charge up the slippery slopes began, the surprised Crystal ponies frantically trying to choose staying or fighting. With only snow on the hill instead of yesterday’s hard-packed ice (shattered by cannon roundshot), the two understrength regiments quickly gained the top and hoisted each other up while keeping a resistance from completely organizing. They’d truck right where the link was weakest; the poor ponies first hit by the virtual wall of Equestrians had just been transferred from the hard-hit area near the most action not half an hour ago. Swords clashed, bullets zipped, and arrows flew through the utter chaos that the Causeway had become. The weariest Crystal regiments had been placed here for relief, not to suppress a charge. Add in the fact that many Crystal ponies had family who were held prisoner to keep them in check, and most simply surrendered while others tried to rally each other. It was virtually hopeless. ------------------------ Atlanta watched the Second Coastal charge into the fray. She envied their bravery and only hoped she could match it on this day. Looking back at the one hundred thousand behind her, half of AREA going to assist the remnants of the Domination Army, she saw only the raw courage every pony only needed to unlock to do great things. She only required them to tap it one more time. Without a word, she turned to Dragonspire Citadel, its fear-instilling walls silent while the twelve-pound cannons reloaded. She waited for the next volley to fire overhead, then yelled: “Have at ‘em!” Her bold cry and charge sent the army scrambling after her. They soon caught up and passed her, slamming into the great stone and wood gates with bullets, arrows, crossbow bolts, and low-firing artillery shells. Bursting through the smoldering wood, they formed a protective circle and advanced. Their practiced hooves and quick volleys slashed at the Crystal ponies between the walls. Even with only half the numbers compared to the enemy, the experienced Atlanteans pounded bullet after bullet and pushed their foes closer and closer to the second wall. Atlanta climbed over the ruined gates and stared at the carnage. Several hundred ponies had already perished, and the close-in battle only began twenty minutes ago. A supply wagon burned brightly in the thick, black smoke of its own fire and those around it. This smoke combined with that from the gunfire and cannons to create a swirling gray overcast of death. She drew her own sword, made of sunsteel, and galloped towards the front lines.