Swiss-Wings glanced to Janelane on his right, who was simply focused on the Dom trench ahead. The Pegasus’ light yellow, almost white wings glinted off the sunlight as he flexed them. They also had many holes in them, some from bullets, but most were large, like a Changeling’s. The holes gave Swiss-Wings his name, the result of a rare genetic defect that affected only one in every 3,000,000 Pegasi.
“You ready, brother?” Meeky asked him.
“If you are.”
“To the end.”
Janelane waved her short sword. “Go! Go! Go!”
The turncoat Doms and Atlantean hurried across the field, hopping over dead ponies and skidding on slippery ground. To their credit, they did manage to mostly stay in formation.
The trench area where they hit was lightly defended. Only about three Doms were even close enough to fight, and they were taken out easily. As the place had been held previously by the now-turncoat Doms, they had not expected the attack to happen there. Janelane waved to Crimson as soon as the half-mile stretch was captured. Then, while Swiss-Wings held the line, Meeky and several others began to dig out a tunnel to the Atlantean earthworks, building a safe passage through no-mare’s land.
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Platinum saw an opportunity in the disoriented Dominion forces directly across from him and a little to the left. An entire line shift was occurring to counter the breakthrough. He smiled. This would be easy if the Fourth Coastal went with him.
As he was contemplating the action, he noticed that the Fourth had just gone over the earthen mound. They’d already started doing what he was just about to ask them to do. He waved his own ponies on and followed, making a slanted charge line that would crush the Doms on the other side like a giant boulder. When he reached the center of no-mare’s land, he lowered his bayoneted rifle and sped up to stop the Doms. The enemy was countercharging a charge in progress!
Platinum slashed with his now-equipped short sword in a wide arc. His bayoneted gun became a counterbalance in that moment as he mistakenly overreached and its strap hooked around his hind legs. He did faceplant, though, since the gun also tripped him. Then the Atlantean behind him killed the Dom before he could finish Platinum off. The Unicorn stood up and moved on.
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Princess Mirage watched as the Second and Fourth Coastal and the turncoat Doms went across the desolate, blood-soaked, stinking field between the two trench lines. She knew her part was just as important as theirs, and that consoled her as she saw the white smoke rise and the din of battle was heard.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang out. She jerked her head to the right, her pricking ears pinpointing the origin in a matter of seconds. An Atlantean sniper had taken a potshot at a Dominion commander whose pompous uniform was too juicy a target to resist. The pretty new uniform jacket he was wearing erupted in red as blood poured out from a hit to an artery. Even from here, Mirage’s acute Changeling vision could make out all the details. She turned away amidst a hyperactive imagining of it happening next to her.
Her ears pricked again. At the same time, her legs fuzzed with a nervous shiver. Her eyes darted across the line. It was quiet.
Too quiet.
An explosion knocked several ponies around and blew a hole in the mound two dozen feet to her right. She snapped her head around to look and saw an opening to a tunnel. The Dominion had been tunneling under no-mare’s-land. A gruff, fortyish Dominion soldier hopped out into the chaotic line, taking advantage of the situation by immediately attacking the nearest Atlantean. After a brief struggle, he stabbed his foe through the heart, killing him instantly.
He came for Mirage next. The Changeling Princess did the first thing that came to mind: she picked up a gun from a dead pony next to her and pulled the trigger. The soldier’s eyes widened as he glanced down into a growing pool of blood. His shoulders slumped and he fell to the ground dead.
More Dominion soldiers started coming out of the hole. Mirage aimed down the sight this time like she saw Crimson do. She fired, hitting one in the head. Three more trigger pulls and she was out of ammo. She dropped the gun and unsheathed her Changeling morphsteel sword, specifically designed by her mother to suit her, holding it with her magic.
A Dom came at her. He sniffed the air as if he could smell her fear. The Princess’ eyes were wide open as she held him at bay with her sword.
He sneered. “Put it down.”
“I’m not afraid to use this.”
“You’re a rookie. Just put down the sword and let the professionals deal with this.”
Mirage looked past him at the chaotic trench. Everypony was occupied. She had to do this herself.
The Dom swung lazily at her, reading her mind. She dodged and took her own whack at him. He easily parried her strike. His next attack cut a little chip off her wing. As he came again, she charged at him, knocking him on the ground and driving her sword into his side. He grunted in pain, pulling it out as he lifted her over him and tossing her like a rag doll. She hit the trench wall with her side, smashing and crumpling her outstretched left wing as she slid to the bottom.
“Ahh!” Mirage painfully stood up. The Dom was over her now, looking enormously dangerous. She rammed her horn into his face. He screamed, clawing at his destroyed right eye when she pulled her bloodied horn out. He was clearly in pain. Lots of pain. But he wasn’t over yet. He attacked again and she stabbed him in the stomach with a loose nail off a nearby wooden plank. She pulled it out and stabbed again, this time in the chest. His heart stopped, he crumpled to the ground.
Mirage shook. Even at Emberforge, she hadn’t necessarily taken a life with her own hooves. Not like this. She felt sick and vomited all over the corpse of the stallion she just killed. All around her, the Atlanteans had regained control of the situation and pushed the Dominion troops back down their rabbit hole.
The contents of her stomach finally gone, Mirage looked across the field. Atlantean flags were waving above the trench there. It was time to move on to the city itself.