As April gave way to May, the changeling army fully invested Fillydelphia. Chrysalis personally commanded the army, which numbered between fifty to a hundred thousand soldiers, with many, many, many more on other fields. The city was cut off entirely from any outside help.
Chrysalis sent a delegation, demanding the immediate and unconditional surrender of the town to whatever fate she had for it.
Met by the mayor, who was accompanied by an armed crowd, the changelings in the delegation acted arrogantly and presumptuously. They refused to give any reassurances to the town, telling the mayor that the townsponies would be cocooned and drained of love to supply the hive. They commanded - not demanded, commanded - the crowd to disarm right there, and when they refused and threatened the delegation, the changelings viciously vowed to put to death all who resisted their attack, and to drain their families far more painfully than if they surrendered peacefully.
Only the intervention of the city police kept the mob from killing the changeling delegation then and there. Having received a clear "no" from the population if not from the mayor, the changelings departed, promising that the city would pay for its decision.
With that, the siege began. The changelings set to work, storming the outer earthen forts. The militia responded with medieval arms and antique cannons. Two forts fell with the loss of many changelings and the entirety of their garrisons, but the other six managed to hold. Filled with whatever debris and junk the defenders could find, the old cannons proved extremely effective against the hive's attack, which relied on masses air and land assaults, meant that they were mass targets for the makeshift canister utilized by the gunners and blunderbussiers. Captain Steel Band noted;
"Our guns are firing as fast as they can be loaded. Roar after roar brings death to the black tide; the giant insects are torn apart by used nails, scrap metal, and broken glass, anything we can load them with that will have the widest possible effect. When they do get up onto our battlements, we hack at them with spears and swords. But losses seem not to matter to them at all. They come, wave after wave; no sooner do we drive one back than another runs at us, ignoring their dead and dying. Have they not even the basics of empathy? My soldiers are nearly exhausted after twenty-four hours of combat; I have to have them fight in relays. Despite the noise, those relieved of duty simply collapse on the ground, falling asleep within seconds as the battle rages around them. Our position is more desperate than any I have imagined in my years as a Guard."
Heavy casualties for both sides were the norm for the next three days, as were repeated attacks by the changelings. While some infiltration efforts were detected, the constant attacks, one following another, meant that most were successful in getting past the forts and into the city. While some were caught - and often eliminated then and there - others managed to replace ponies who were in charge of defense and anti-infiltration efforts. Still more sabotaged everything they could, from telegraph wires to food supplies, some of which were mildly poisoned or exposed to unsanitary conditions in order to cause illness and despair among the population. Random attacks on civilians meant that some militia units that should have been on the front were busy hunting changelings. Green Jade, an earth pony mare, described the suffering of the town;
"My foals were sick. All the food available had something wrong with it, or so it seemed at the time. My husband was somewhere out there, joining a couple of 'Hunter Squads," as we called them, trying to find those responsible, but it was an impossible task. For every changeling they unmasked and... put away, it felt like there were ten more who got past them. Medicines were being sabotaged, so that they hurt instead of helping, and of those left unpoisoned there were few. Families remained inside, trying to keep our young safe. We knew they were out there, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting ponies, regardless of age. Our spirits fell. Every night, we hoped that the cannons in the forts wouldn't stop firing, for that would mean an end to the defense and the true beginning of our suffering."
Fillydelphia, though it had prepared for the attack, was simply not ready when it came. On May 5th, after four days under siege, two more forts fell, and three of the remaining four were about to be overrun. Seeing no hope of repelling the changeling attack, the mayor decided that the citizens would be better off under abject slavery than dead, and sent his own delegation, with a white flag, to surrender the city.
Chrysalis received them. She accepted the surrender, but made it clear that the population would suffer for its resistance. She decided not to execute resistants, but that was more from a desire to collect as much love from as many ponies as she could, and harvest them. All of the militia were to immediately drained of all their love, which would reduce them to a state nearing death. All weapons, even kitchen utensils, were to be given up, and the ponies of the city were to allow the changelings to do whatever they chose, to them and to their city, without protest. Anypony who did protest would be drained of love at once, the same fate as the militia. They were to give themselves over to the invaders, aid them in hunting down those who persisted in their resistance, and stop those trying to escape the city. All personal property and buildings were subject to destruction at the will of the invading army, and any changeling who died from violence after the surrender would be avenged by the deaths of a hundred ponies whom the invaders would select as they desired. Archer Bow, a stallion from the city, noted in his journal;
"They have come. They swarm the streets, destroying anything that can be burned. They help themselves to whoever they find, violating them in a way I had never imagined possible. Those who even muttered a word against them are beaten, then... they are utterly drained of everything. They are reduced to walking skeletons before our eyes. They laughed to see how far we had fallen, enjoyed displaying their power over a helpless population. They care nothing for civility or for morals; they live only to see us enslaved, reduced and humiliated as far as they can without actually killing us. It is terrible, terrible beyond prior imagination. I can only hope that their expulsion from the city is quick, or Fillydelphia as we know it will become utter ruin."
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"Get moving, slaves!"
Bell Ringer watched from her window as changelings shouted at a line of emaciated militia ponies, all on their way to being cocooned. The changelings were everywhere, giving orders and breaking things with little to no provocation.
"Oh shut up!" a stallion yelled. "Can't you see that they're too weak to go any-"
For his trouble the pony was sucked dry before Bell's eyes; three changelings set upon him and drained him immediately.
"Stupid slave. Next time you moan and whine, we'll come after your foals!" one of the changelings said, punching the victim in the face before turning around.
Not far away, a group of ponies were dumping all sorts of equipment on the ground. Some were turning over objects that were clearly weapons, but most were turning over silverware and innocuous items.
"We'll be checking your houses later," a changeling growled. "If any of you have held anything back, we'll put you in a cocoon right away. Or we'll suck all your love out, and then cocoon you." He chuckled in a mean-spirited way. "Good riddance, if you ask me."
We're going to have to live under them, Bell realized with a horror that hadn't overtaken her until now. It'll be like this every day. They'll squeeze us until there's nothing left, and they'll beat and torture us if we even complain about it.
"This is what you prey get for resisting the natural order," another drone said, laughing. "Serves you right. You think you've suffered? Try resisting us again, and we'll show you the meaning of suffering. You'll let us have your love, or we'll crush you underhoof and still get your love."
"Not a lot of weapons," a third noted. "I doubt they'll be trying anything, not after the lesson we gave them."
"Bah, just symbols of pony softness," the first of the three said. "We don't need it in our society. All we need are Queen, hive, and whatever genetics or biology or whatever goes into eggs. All this trash, this 'technology,'" he said, dragging out and mocking the last word, "promotes weakness. We're stronger than them even without it, so what good is it?"
"You!"
Bell gasped; a changeling had popped up right in front of her window.
"Get out here and do some work. Thinking you could just sit there and watch? Think again!"
It was the beginning of years of struggle for the ponies of Fillydelphia.
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It was a different story at Manehattan. While all changelings could fly, they could be easily seen and fired upon by the ships in the harbor, as well as by the airships that were joining the defense. Infiltration would be difficult under the circumstances, given that there was only one point of entry by land - the railroad bridge - and most changelings, being used to underground and land-based habitation, were not used to swimming. That left the air, but given that the city was easily defended, unlike Fillydelphia, which had been surrounded on all sides by land, the city would be hard to invest. Chrysalis was by now aware of the approaching allied forces, and decided that so long as the ponies in the city were kept from escaping, then perhaps she could force them to give in by capturing the Princesses. To that end, after the Fall of Fillydelphia, she began to turn the bulk of her armies south to finish Celestia and her new army. She was confident that this would be the case, given the fact the Equestria had been unprepared for the conflict and knowing that the Princesses' new armies were hastily prepared.
It took about a week for the changeling army to get in place for its advance southward as Chrysalis shifted units around; with regret, she was forced to leave several "Retaliation Brigades" behind in order to crush rebellion and capture ponies and other creatures that had so far escaped captivity.
So far, the revolts had been small; with the majority of the populace being cocooned, the rebel numbers were few, perhaps a few dozen in every group at most. And yet their presence infuriated the changelings, who expected their "prey" to simply roll over and play dead on their command.
Chrysalis had - largely - tried to avoid killing at this point. Even the defenders of Fillydelphia had been taken prisoner, though the changelings were determined to punish them, their families, and the city in general. Killing a source of food was not something the Queen was eager to do. However, with changeling casualties having reached 5,000 in dead and wounded at Fillydelphia, with around 2,000 more from the fighting at Vanhoover, and with insurrection plaguing captured lands, the Queen was losing what patience she had. She gave instructions to the Retaliation Brigades, authorizing them to kill "when necessary." In the years to come, the latter part of the instruction would be interpreted broadly.
However, the changeling preparations took time, time that the allied powers had used well. The Saddle Arabian army had disembarked at Baltimare, and their navy was reinforcing the defenders of Manehattan. The hippogriffs, though fewer in number, brought with them a viable navy and an determined army, armed with a mixture of rifles, pikes, and swords along with some breach-loading cannons. Both forces together doubled the numbers defending the line, and increased the morale of the defenders.
Down in the south, meanwhile, the delegation sent to the humans of the Avalon Republic were received, and got an answer. One that would have a profound effect on the war.
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By the time Chrysalis had prepared her forces to march south, the Allies had gained valuable time to reinforce, and their positions were strong. Furthermore, the Equestrians were already gaining knowledge of then-modern weaponry and how to use it.
It couldn't come soon enough. Chrysalis made her move on May 21st, 1002. The changeling armies advanced to the south, a massive tide of them, intent on finishing the conquest of Equestria.
By then, though, they weren't facing an army of unarmed conscripts. They were facing an organized, tough resistance.
On May 24th, 1002, the first battle between the Changeling Empire and the Allies began. The Battle of Froggy Bottom Bog saw the first real engagement outside of a city in the conflict, and it was surprising for both sides.
The changelings weren't just melee fighters. Their horns could fire lethal energy bursts, and they could hurl themselves from the sky if they wanted to plaster an area and overrun it. They were also relentless; changeling drones continued fighting even when local odds were not in their favor, and few could be taken alive. Their ability to change form in the middle of the chaos added to the confusion of the defending forces.
But if the battle was a shock to the Allies, it was the same, if not more so, for the changelings. They had expected their "prey" to flee within a few hours of the start of the battle; instead, the fighting lasted all day, as both sides threw reserves into combat. The Saddle Arabian weapons were largely single shot rifles, but their long reload times were made up for by their range and accuracy. Their cannons were utterly devastating, as shells rained down on the changeling forces, often finding targets who were clustered together. The hippogriffs, though fewer in number than either the Equestrians or Saddle Arabians, were masters of close combat; even without their pikes and swords, their claws could inflict severe damage on a drone. And the Equestrians, driven by the desire to reclaim their homes and protect their loved ones, threw themselves into the battle with a ferocity unexpected by the commanders of either side. Their weapons were largely older melee weapons - spears, swords, hoof blades, and ancient arquebuses, with a few newer weapons, but the sheer determination of those using them made up for their poor armament.
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The battle was utter chaos. Sergeant Longsword, an earth pony, fought using his namesake weapon, slashing at the changeling horde. Ponies around him, some fighting with no more than hooves shod with nailed-on horseshoes, others making due with hoof blades, swords, and spears, a select few shooting from the rear with old guns. Unicorns were firing spell after spell, with changelings being burned through by energy or were shocked and falling, internal systems critically injured due to electrical damage.
Changelings were going down one after another. And yet, there were so many of them. For every one that fell, another came up to take its place, just as determined, hissing, and ferocious as the ones that came before it.
Longsword had to focus on his own fight with drone after drone after drone. When he was able to pay attention to others engaged in battle, what he saw would scar his mind for the rest of his life. A changeling was killed when a shod hoof struck it's head with extreme force - what was left of its head wasn't worth noting. A pony was overwhelmed and bitten through the neck - all the way through - by a drone, who was abruptly slashed across the face with a hoof blade. Yet another changeling was cut in half, only for his slayer to be burned alive by a storm of green plasma. A volley of arquebus shots cut through a drone, who hissed defiantly for several seconds before his body fully registered the fatal injuries and finally keeled over, lifeless.
One wave followed another. There were only about thirty seconds or so between them, so there was precious little time for rest or refreshment.
"You doing alright, Sergeant?" a pony asked him during one such interval.
Longsword poured a long draft of water down his throat. "Yes. I am doing well. How many of these bugs did you squish?"
"More than my fair share," the other soldier replied.
Longsword looked him over briefly. The other soldier wasn't wearing armor. There was little to be spared, and instead of armor the soldier was wearing a blue uniform with white bordering the coat.
"Looks like they're coming again!"
"Yeah, looks like it. Or maybe they're already here."
"Yeah, may- what?"
Longsword raised his weapon and bashed the pony in the side of the head with the hilt. The other soldier screamed; there was a flash of green light, and in his place, on the ground, a changeling emerged.
"Any last words?" he asked.
"My disguise... how did you...?"
"You didn't have the insignia of the private you were impersonating. Furthermore, he's too scared of me to even talk to me unless I initiate the conversation."
With that, Longsword plunged his weapon into the chest of the changeling. The drone screeched for several seconds, and became still.
"Now, to try to handle the rest of them..."
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However, the hive was nothing if not numerous, and Chrysalis' forces threw even more of their strength into the battle. As might be expected, they managed, here and there, to impersonate officers, commanders, and even common soldiers, and wreaked sufficient havoc to weaken the center of the Allied line, which began to sag downward. Sensing victory, the horde poured its strength into the breach, and the line began to fracture. Chrysalis, for a few minutes, wore the same smile that she had at the wedding just a few weeks ago.
A smile that turned out to be premature.
The roar of distant artillery and a constant stream of bullets announced a new contender entering on the side of the Allies. Human soldiers, firing machine guns and rifles into the breached position, mowed down the attackers. Cries of, "Avalon! Avalon e Vittoria!" rang from their lines as they gunned down the changeling forces.
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"Viva Avalon!" Private Giacomo Di Antonio shouted, firing another round from his rifle at the black pony-like figures ahead. The one he was aiming at crumpled, and did not rise.
"Good shot, amico," Sergeant Francesco Alessi shouted, firing a revolver at the changeling horde. "Hold them!"
The changelings continued their attack, but the combination of artillery, machine guns, and bolt action rifles were too much for them. Hundreds fell in the space of a few minutes. The Avalonians, on the other hand, either crouching or prone, were difficult for the changelings to hit with spell fire.
"Not so hard, are they?" Private Pietro Crespo said to Giacomo, firing another shot.
"Shut your mouth, Crespo, or you'll have me to deal with!" the sergeant growled. "Just keep firing!"
All too soon, the horde's attack faltered, and their momentum vanished.
"Avanti!" Sergeant Alessi bellowed.
"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" the Avalonians cried as they pull themselves up off the ground, bayonets fixed and at the ready. Most continued to fire as they advanced, putting a ton of lead in the air. Even though it was unaimed hip fire, it nevertheless sent a number of changelings to the ground and suppressed others, who were hindered in their efforts to fire back.
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Giacomo screamed as he rushed a changeling warrior.
The changeling screeched something and attempted to stab him with his horn. Giacomo blocked it, then bashed the changeling in the head with the butt of his rifle. The black ponylike insect was stunned. Before Giacomo could act, another soldier pinned the bug pony to the ground with his bayonet.
The fighting was crazy. Changelings fired green bolts directly into the faces of their enemies, and were shot in return. Sergeant Alessi shot three in the span of three seconds, and almost broke his pistol over the head of a fourth. Holstering it, he pulled out a sword and hacked his way through the melee.
"Keep going! Avanti!
The human soldiers of the Avalon Republic pushed ahead. Little by little, the changelings gave way. Chitin and blood were no match for steel and shot. They broke off from the melee and tried to fall back.
As they fell back, a soldier in front of Giacomo was standing within a crater. Suspiciously, he bore no weapon.
"Get up! You're not hurt!" Alessi shouted at him.
"What are you saying? Can you you repeat that?
Giacomo didn't recognize the words, but he recognized the language; English. And none of the Avalonians would have used a foreign language in a combat situation.
Alessi spotted the deception right away and shot the man. He cried out; at the same time, a flash of green light revealed the soldier to be a disguised changeling, now writhing on the ground.
"Next time, learn Italian before trying an impersonation," Alessi growled, spitting on the ground. "Idiot." He turned to Giacomo and others standing by. "What are you fools doing just standing around?! Get going!"
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Caught off guard just when their victory had seemed imminent, the changelings withdrew from that sector of the battlefield. Before long, they withdrew entirely, to positions a couple miles distant, within the bog itself, where their positions were difficult to locate and bombard with artillery.
Chrysalis was furious at having lost the battle, but the war was a long way from won. Knowing that she had the numerical advantage, she decided to try outflanking the Allies and surrounding them. She sent orders to the commanders on the wings, and her armies began to stretch out to the east and west.
The Allies stood, triumphant for the moment, but the commanders of each of the Allied armies agreed that the victory was a temporary one, and recognized what Chrysalis was doing. Meanwhile, a few refugees managed to reach their lines and, once they were scanned to make sure they were not changelings, told a disturbing tale. Everywhere, the changelings were either moving or talking about moving south, and they had seen "endless numbers" of changeling reinforcements on their way.
The Princesses Celestia and Luna of Equestria, General Adil Al-Amin of Saddle Arabia, General Swiftclaw of the hippogriffs, and General Matteo Vittorio of the Avalon Republic met to discuss the Allies' next move.
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"We cannot fight the battle again under these circumstances," Princess Luna said, tapping the table with a hoof. "We must withdraw."
"You're willing to lose even more of your land?" Swiftclaw replied, banging his left claws on the table. "We fought bled to hold them here. We can stop them again!"
"But we've suffered losses as well," Celestia replied. "Our army is about the be outflanked. We can't allow them to surround us. If we withdraw, as painful as it is, we can stretch our line as well. As it is, we're exposed."
"Just order your other armies to-"
"There is no time for that," Luna said. "We must retreat, and do so before they can crush us. We need time in order to form anti-infiltration tactics, and to inform our other armies and link up with them. We can stop the enemy, but only with the coordination of all our forces."
"I nostri eserciti hanno pagato il prezzo per fermarli," General Vittorio said, forgetting to switch from Italian to English (or Equestrian, depending on whether one was a pony). "Ma sarei più felice se li tenessimo lontani dalle città."
"Anch'io, ma non c'è niente per questo," Luna replied in the same tongue, before switching back. "I agree that we should stop them as far north from Appleloosa. But we must step back from this field."
"You Avalonians have more reinforcements coming up?" Swiftclaw demanded.
"Oh yes," General Vittorio replied with a heavy accent, remembering to speak English this time. "We have fifty thousand and more, artillery and all. More are on their way from the fatherland."
"And what would you have us do?"
"The honorable Princess speaks truth. We must withdraw, but will return to this field. I hope it's soon, God willing."
"I would consider attacking them," Adil Al-Amin advised. "It would be something that they least expect."
Luna rolled her eyes. "Yes, it would. Because it is the most foolish move we could make. We know almost nothing about our enemy, other than that they can imitate us. And Chrysalis isn't stupid. She'll have some scouts keeping an eye on our army. Her own line stretches by the minute. We must withdraw before they can finish their maneuver."
"Attack is the very essence of warfare!" the Saddle Arabian general shouted.
"When we have a worthwhile chance, yes," Vittorio said, spitting out the gum he had been chewing. "It would be irresponsible, bordering on outright recklessness and folly, to attack them right now. I've seen your troops, who have been fighting for hours. They are tired and their ammunition heavily depleted. They have seen childhood friends and comrades die en masse. They are ill-armed and unprepared. Retreat is the only solution. Retreat, and stretch out our line in doing so. We fight them where necessary, but we will do this."
"We held them."
"You can say that until the cows come home, amico, but it does not change the situation."
"He's right," Celestia said. "We will not withdraw far, but we must withdraw. Now." The steel in her voice gave no room for argument.
"How much more of your land do you want to lose?" Swiftclaw demanded.
"None, if it were possible. It pains me, even more than it does you. But we've slowed them down, and gained time. Now, we must make use of it."
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With the Equestrians and the Avalonians together providing the majority of the soldiers, General Swiftclaw and Al-Amin had no choice but to give in. The Allied army fell back, carefully covering itself as it did so. The Avalonian reinforcements helped in making the Allied line stretch to the west and east as they did so. The conflict was rapidly resembling the mess it would be for the next four years.
Chrysalis and her army renewed their advance two days after the battle, pushing past craters and debris. The Allies had made a clean getaway, taking with them their dead and wounded, along with all discarded equipment and weapons. Restless, the changeling armies pushed ahead, having lost some of their pluck during the fight.
The Allies built a new line just north of Appleloosa, the trenches stretching from Ghastly Gorge to Dodge City. The hot desert climate was a terrible experience for large armies, which would have to maintain large water supplies. With Cloudsdale having been captured and sacked some weeks earlier, the cloud-based industry in Equestria was in desperate straits, and could not be the sole means for slaking the Allies' massive thirst. While there was plenty of water in the Hayseed Swamps, it was a laborious process in collecting and purifying it, and it's taste satisfied no one. The Avalonians would dub it, with some humor and after trying various ingredients to hide the awful taste, as "caffè di fortuna," or "Makeshift Coffee," a moniker that soldiers of all nations eventually applied to any unsavory drink. Eventually, the water from the swamps, as well as that from desalinization plants set up on Equestria's coasts, would ease the water burden, but water rations for the time being were still limited. The Avalonians somewhat made up for it by forgoing water in favor of tea and other beverages from home, but this would prove to be temporary, as the fatherland was unable to send enough, and, as more and more soldiers were being sent, feeding and quenching them all would become more and more difficult. Water would have to do most of the time.
While the Allies fortified their lines, the changelings were still coming, though much more cautiously. Moreover, as they came forward, a failure of communication among the changelings would change the dreary circumstances in the Allies' favor.
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