//------------------------------// // 10 - The Greatest Game (Part 2) // Story: The Adventures of Flesh and Bone // by Meep the Changeling //------------------------------// Tractor Pull - 21st of Lunar Dusk, 08 EoH West Bloomfield - Equestria The ten-thirty from Detrot steamed down the rails, running unusually late. Despite being named for the time the train was due to arrive at its destination, the eleventh hour was rapidly approaching and West Bloomfield was still hidden behind the rolling hills bordering its shorter edge. The train’s delay had not been explained to her passengers, but Track knew why they were running late. It didn’t take a genius to feel how slow and shakily the train was riding this evening to understand something had broken down. Trac sighed and turned to look out the window for the millionth time. It’s lucky the train can move at all. The solitude Trac normally road home in was absent this time as Thunder and Bunker road along with him. The three soldiers had the remains of shell shocked expressions left in the corners of their faces. Thunder’s normal chatty nature had abandoned him. He sat in silence as the train rumbled down the tracks. Bunker’s laid back attitude evaporated. She fidgeted in her seat, absently blowing dust out from her clockwork leg’s exposed nooks and crannies. “So like… Will the train get here before the bars close?” Bunker asked Trac yet again. A faint flash of blue light lit the mostly empty car. The three ponies didn’t bother to look up. Despite being the only passengers in their car it’s not like no one else would enter over the course of the train’s route. The flash was most definitely a conductor checking for anyone aboard who shouldn’t be. Trac shrugged. “Normally yeah. With the engine messed up, I don’t know.” Thunder’s ears flicked slightly. “I… I need one. Badly. Do you have anything at home?” Trac paused and closed his eyes. “Uhhh, no? Retort does. But that’s his. We would need to ask.” Bunker’s lips twitched. “He’ll understand… I fainted in front of the Princess. That’s something you give someone a bottle for.” Trac winced. “Oof, yeah… They should have told us the ‘noble’ was actually a ‘royal’. Pretty sure we would have intentionally lost.” Thunder shook his head. “Buck no! I would have tried just as hard.” Bunker laughed nervously. “I wouldn’t have! I’m not qualified to teach our future Commander in Chief the basics of tank warfare. I wouldn’t be if she had been born this century and was familiar with the basics already. Now I have to train someone from the days when armies stood in lines in front of each other and traded shots like they were in some kind of board game!” The source of the blue flash raised an eyebrow at Bunker’s comment and cleared her throat. “That’s not how ancient warfare worked.” The three ponies jumped out of their seat at the sound of Luna’s voice. The fur on the back of their necks stood up as they snapped into salutes. Luna rolled her eyes and sat down in the aisle. “I believe you were instructed not to treat me as a Princess,” Luna offered the three a friendly smile. “Come now, we may be off duty, but I would like our relationship to be friendly and one of equals.” Trac bit his lip, wincing as he lowered his hoof. “Y-yes ma’am. But, you’re still… You.” Luna rolled her eyes. “No. I am someone very different from the propaganda you were raised on.” Bunker coughed and shook her head. “Trac’s a history nut. He uh, he knows the real you. Probably.” Luna laughed bitterly. “Unless the books you read mention my habit of bringing handsome stallions to bed after visiting small village bars and taverns every other night, then you do not know me. You know my public face. A creation of my sister’s.” Trac cleared his throat. “I uh, I know you’re a promiscuous mare, Princess. I was referring to the fact that I am speaking to someone who single hoofedly slew three dragons in one to one combat. Conquered the lands which make up our modern nation. Supposedly invented scalemail armor. Has the ability to see all of our dreams. Fights off eldritch horrors which try to invade our world through those dreams… You’re a big deal.” Luna nodded and looked at the three with a rather distant stare. “I’m also a person. Who at present has no genuine friends.” Thunder’s lips pulled downwards. “That’s horrible! I mean, if it’s true. How can it be true? You’re you!” Luna rolled her eyes and stood up. “When you have near unlimited power, those who come to you seeking friendship often, in truth, seek to suck on your teats. Not literally, unfortunately. The rest of the people I know today either are my peers, my sister, or in positions of power below me. It’s lonely at the top. You three have been put into a position of power above me for the time being… At least, in certain respects. “I was hoping we could get a drink and get to know one another while I hide from my sister. There’s a late night session of the Solar Court to welcome the Griffonese High King for some peace talk or another… Frankly I would rather not attend. I’m not up to date on current politics. I’d likely say something appropriate for the time of the Crusades and start a fight, if not a war.” Trac tilted his head to one side. “S— Shouldn’t Princess Celestia know that?” “She does, but wants to have me present as a show of power. I divined your location and teleported to you in the hopes we could go find a bar and sample the innkeeper's finest instead of starting the Fourth Crusade.” Bunker and Thunder exchanged a look and nodded. Thunder inhaled and winced. “With all do respect… We uh, we were going to drink because of you, so…” Bunker’s eyes widened, her pupils shrank. Raising her metal hoof she thwacked the back of her brother’s head. “NO, YOU IDIOT! I meant she can come!” “Ow!” Thunder rubbed his head and glared at Bunker. “But she likes to go to bars and pick up stallions!” Trac and Luna stared at the tiny pegasus in confusion. “Uh… So what?” Trac said slowly. Luna nodded. “Indeed! What business is it of yours whom I bed?” Bunker facehooved and groaned. “Oh, Celestia… It’s late. The only stallions present will probably be you and Trac. You could have phrased that way better!” Thunder nodded and stared awkwardly at the floor. “Yeah… Uh, we’re a couple sooo… You know…” Luna’s eyes widened for a moment before taking on a sly yet pleased gleam. “You’ve placed a lot of trust in me. Thank you. Fear not, I shan’t flirt with you. It would be improper, you’re my superior officers.” Bunker cocked her head. “Trust?” Luna nodded. “Of course. As sovereign, I could have them jailed for their relations. I am grateful for your trust, Sergeant.” Trac blinked and looked up at the dark Alicorn. “No one told you?” “No one told me what?” “Same sex couples have been legal for three hundred years.” Luna frowned. “They have?” Bunker nodded. “Yeah. S— Shouldn’t someone have updated you on the laws you missed?” “I was given a ‘crash course’, as it were,” Luna ran a hoof through her mane to hide her blush. “I’m glad you two may live as you wish. That law was dumb. I would have gotten rid of it, but domestic law has always been my sister’s affair.” Thunder shuffled his hooves on the floor for a moment. “I— Uh… I’m sorry. For assuming you’d flirt with us.” Luna snorted and waved a hoof in dismissal. “Apology accepted. Besides, thou art short and tiny. It reminds me of a colt. I’m not attracted to you. Your stallion is also not my ‘type’. Even if it were not improper, I wouldn’t have thought to propose anything.” Trac’s ears drooped back. I dont normally care what mares think of me… But… She’s a princess… That kinda hurts. Thunder’s eyes narrowed. His shoulders straightened. He opened his mouth with an angry frown. “Excuse me, but did you just call my coltfriend ugly?” Luna blinked. Bunker stared wide eyed at Thunder. Trac froze in place. Luna snorted and shook her head, offering Thunder a smile. “No. It’s just that I don’t enjoy stallions of his bulk. I’m quite tall, it takes a rather flexible stallion to mount this mare, and he’ll need to have somewhat thin legs to fit in deeply enough to count. Unless of course he’s rather large.” Bunker’s cheeks lit up a bright red. “Uhhhhh, that is NOT an appropriate conversation to have.” Luna raised an eyebrow. “We’re soldiers, going to a bar. What else do we talk about aside from romantic conquest, feasting, fighting, and hypothetical romantic conquest?” Trac bit his lip to keep himself from laughing as Bunker’s ears slowly drooped down. “She has you there,” Thunder said with a giggle. Bunker coughed. “I uh… But you’re also the princess. We should be on our best behavior.” Trac shook his head slowly. “S-Sarge? She’s trying to be friends… It’s an awkward topic, but uh, well, she’s over a thousand. This is what warriors talked about with their friends back then. We should… Help her feel at home.” Bunker sighed and looked at the ground in defeat. “I suppose… But I don’t wanna talk about what I like to a Princess.” Luna’s eyes lit up. “Oh? You like some interesting things I take it? Well in that case, think not of me as a princess. I was a city guard long before I had a crown. Think of me as your comrade.” Thunder eeped. “Uhhh, we can skip her.” Luna looked over at Thunder while Bunker sighed in relief. “I’ll hardly be embarrassed or judgmental. Do you not think after two thousand years I have not gotten curious about nearly everything there is to do?” Trac frowned. “Huh… I never thought of that. How do you keep anything feeling fresh and new? Uh, sex stuff and normal stuff alike. I mean.” “I get banished to the moon,” Luna said with a wink. “Say… I’ve never asked anyone this before. Largely because I have never known a pair of stallions of your proclivities before. But, how exactly do you two copulate? I don’t mean to be rude. I’m simply wondering how such a tiny opening can stretch to accommodate—” Thunder blushed and looked away from Luna, rubbing the back of his head. “Uh… Butts are way stretchier than most ponies think they are.” Luna’s eyes widened. “Butts? Of course! That would work far better! Why on earth did Tia tell me— Nevermind.” Luna shook her head and gave Bunker a gentle nudge on her shoulder. “See? We’re bonding. Or do the warriors of today do things differently?” “Why did they bond over talking about what kind of ponies they liked to sleep within your day?” Bunker asked with a timid squeak. Luna tilted her head. “Why, so we could find partners for our friends, of course! Each army would spend only so long at a given city. Everypony deserves a lover’s touch after a long campaign. It would be easy to miss out if your friends didn’t direct individuals you’d like your way.” “Huh,” Thunder said, stroking his chin. “That’s actually kinda thoughtful.” Luna nodded twice. “Indeed! My soldiers even directed stallions like you to partners. I always found that rule of Tia’s to be silly. What business is it of anypony what others do in their beds?” Bunker squirmed in place. “I feel, like you want to know what I like, because I am single and a soldier. But given what you just said, can you respect that I would feel really awkward telling someone what I like?” Luna frowned and nodded. “I can. Is there any kindness I can show you instead?” Thunder’s lips twisted into a vengeful smile as he remembered Bunker smoking in their shared room every day for several years. “You could buy her one of those potions that makes a magical duplicate of the drinker.” Luna nodded. “Of course I can. But why would she—” Bunker looked at Thunder, her eyes filled with complete and utter betrayal. “Thunder! WHY?” Luna blinked then smirked. “Oh! I see. Fear not. I’ve done that several times myself.” Trac tilted his head. “I don’t get it.” Thunder snickered. “Well, since she’ll murder me tonight already… Bunker drank one of those five years ago while she was drunk and fell in love with her copy. She’s been dating herself once a week ever since!” Bunker’s eyes filled to the brim with tears. “It’s not my fault! I’m like, super nice… I don’t like mares. But I’m really charming so it’s an exception cuz I’m not gross for some reason and— And— And I’m not talking about this!” Luna offered Bunker a knowing smile. “Fear not. I won't tell anypony. Though, I do believe I could help your ‘friend’ stay with you for more than a few hours at a time. There are several spells which—” Luna fell silent mid sentence, her eyes widening as the train at last crested the final hilly ridge and West Bloomfield came into view. The burning orange glow of flames churned and boiled, hidden from distant eyes beneath the rippling illusion of a normal sky. The spell did not reach the ground, a mercy the griffons did not intentionally offer. The train sped along for six more seconds. Luna’s horrified eyes remained locked on the burning city. Trac, Bunker, and Thunder turned to see what she was looking at only for their eyes to gaze on in horror as well. The Majesty came into view as they looked on. Griffon sorcerers were no match for unicorn mages. To keep their ship hidden and conceal the glow of the burning town from afar their illusion could not be made to reach the ground. A tactical choice which would have worked out had a spy been able to finish sabotaging a certain train’s engine. Luna’s horrified expression twisted into wrath as she saw a pair of griffons carrying an unconscious pony to their airship. “It would seem I did not need to say anything to start a new Crusade.” Bunker blinked, snapping out of her trance. “We need to do something!” She reached into her pocket, retrieving her messenger gem. “Command, this is Master Sergeant Bunker Bunny. West Bloomfield is under attack, repeat, West Bloomfield is under attack!” The gem in her hoof failed to glow. Bunker frowned and shook the chunk of sapphire. “Come on! Work! I charged you this morning.” Luna set a hoof on the unicorn’s clockwork shoulder. “The gem is fine. Griffons have always found ways to disrupt magical communications. Pirates my plot! Attacking at night, from the air, concealing the attack via illusion and the natural terrain. This is an attack!” Trac’s ears fell at Luna words finally pulling him free of the spell he had been under. “Attack? No shit! That’s what they do! They attack us!” Bunker shook her head. “She means it’s military. This is war.” Luna tilted her head, popping her neck. “And their high king is in a room with my sister as we speak. She is in danger. I must leave to render aid.” Trac felt something snap within his heat. He whirled around, looking up into Luna’s eyes with a deathly glare. “NO! You’re going to help us! You royals have let this happen for hundreds of years! You’re going to ride this train into town and kill every single bucking one of those griffons, then march right into their nation and burn it all down! You have the powers of a god! Stop this, right, bucking, now!” Luna leaned down and gave Trac a brief hug. “I’m afraid you, and most rural ponies, greatly overestimate what I can do.” Trac grit his teeth and pointed towards the cloud of griffons beneath the airship. “I know what you can do! I’ve read every book on you. I’m supposed to be your superior officer, right? This is an order, kill them all!” Luna stood up straight. “You are my superior except in the case of emergencies, Tractor Pull. War is an emergency. Fear not, I share your sentiments. Within ten minutes their sovereign will be in shackles, or ash. As for this town, it will be safe if the airship is scuttled. I think I know just the tool and ponies for the job. Remain still.” Thunder shook slightly, his wings ruffling as he finally tore his eyes away from the window. “Celestia’s cake fetish! How the buck did they slip past our scouts?!” Luna blinked. “Uh… Please stay still. Also, please do not inform any other ponies of my sister’s oddities.” Luna’s horn shone brightly as she teleported herself and her trainers. Had any of them moved, pieces of them would have remained within the train. Fortunately the three were safely staring blankly ahead, fully entranced by the apparent truth of a silly oath they had heard since primary school. The three appeared amid a flash within a beige office filled with far too many potted plants. An office none of the three had seen before thanks to their fairly low ranks. The flash of blue lighting his office ripped Colonel Ironclad’s attention away from the paperwork which had kept him in his office after hours. The Colonel sputtered as Luna colessed from the arcane light. He offered her a quick bow. “I— M— Is something wrong, your highness?” Luna nodded sharply. “West Bloomfield is under attack. The enemy consists of a single airship and at least two hundred armored soldiers. I want you to personally lead a full assault on the town, retake it, and then fortify. I will leave the specifics to you.” Ironclad’s head tipped back as he looked into Luna’s eyes. “Yes Ma’am! It will take at least half an hour to fully deploy and arrive at the city. It may be advisable for you to hold the enemy there until we can arrive.” “I have a plan for that, Colonel. Please order the engineers to ready Crusader for battle. I should be able to teleport a single tank to attack range. I would go personally, but apparently my sister's skill at arms has dropped so much that she was defeated in one attack by some kind of large insect.” Trac blinked. “Uh, P— Princess? One tank won't stop them.” “We need not stop them. We need only scuttle their ship. I want you to enter town and destroy their balloon. Failing that, disable the engines. With the airship grounded their raid becomes a hostage situation and we will have time to plan. Unlike now, as the enemy could flee at any time. Do you understand?” Trac’s eyes narrowed as he nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.” Colonel Iconclad cleared his throat and lifted the messenger gem he kept on his desk. “Command to Depot: By order of Princess Luna, ready Crusader for battle. You have one minute before the tanks is to be deployed. Live rounds are to be loaded.” The gem crackled slightly as a Depot Officer picked up the facility’s own stone. “Command, this is Falcon Depot. Please confirm orders, over.” “Load JP-9 One-twenty-four with live rounds and ready it for field use immediately!” The Colonel repeated. “Yes, sir… Is this a clandestine situation, sir?” “No. This Is an emergency situation. The base will be going on full alert in five minutes. Crusader is to be ready in one. Stop wasting time!” Ironclad set the gem down on his desktop, the glow vanished as his hoof broke contact. The Colonel stood up and began to put on his coat. “Thank you, Colonel” Luna said as she turned her head to look at the three soldiers behind her. “This may be a suicide plan. I have been told tanks can withstand a lot of damage, and I can not transport more than one and still have the energy to return to Canterlot. Are you up for it? I should have asked before.” Bunker frowned then nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Send us in, people are dying.” Luna smiled. “A mare after my own heart.” Luna’s horn began to glow as she charged her next teleportation spell. Trac raised a hoof, then lowered it. Luna frowned at him. “Do you have something critical to say?” Trac nodded swiftly. “Put us just outside the train station. It’s centralized enough for us to get anywhere in town, and the airship is parked above Yarrow Field park. We’ll start with a clear shot at it.” Best of all, if their griffons are still flying as they were seconds ago, we’ll have clean shots at their whole group. Real flak rounds will make mince meat of them all! Luna nodded and her horn flashed. The spell whisked the four ponies away, depositing them with a flash directly in front of the hulking form that was Crusader. An earth pony technician yelped as they appeared nearly on top of her, prompting the mare to almost drop the ammunition crate she was carrying. “EEP! This is a teleport-free zone you bucking id—” The mare’s eyes widened as she saw one of the four was Princess Luna. “—  S— Sorry, your highness! Go anyplace you want!” Luna rolled her eyes and looked at the ponies who would one day train her. “Get in.” She turned her attention to the technician. “Is this vehicle loaded?” The mare nodded, then shook her head. “All but this case of bolts for the swivel bolter, ma’am.” Luna took the case from the mare with her telekinetic grip and set it atop the turret. Bunker, Trac, and Thunder jogged over to the ladder built into Crusader’s left side. The trip across the engine deck to the hatch atop the turret seemed to take an eternity. The three ponies had seen combat before, but this was different. This was war. This was a suicide mission. Bunker let Trac enter Crusader first. He slid down the ladder and ran to the driver's seat, flicking through the startup sequence even as Thunder climbed in and Bunker loaded the box of live bolts into their weapon. Crusader’s engine hissed and hummed as it whirled to life, prompting Luna to wince slightly. “Can you shut it down?” Bunker’s ears perked. “It takes a few minutes to fully shut down… Why do you ask?” “Moving objects are hard to transport. Something sounds like it is spinning.” Hearing the conversation through the hatch, Trace groaned and facehooved. BUCK! I’m too used to driving to the fight. “Sorry!” Luna sighed and shook her head. “No time… Everypony, remain still as you can!” The entire Depot froze in place, nopony certain whom exactly the Princess was referring too. Luna closed her eyes, grit her teeth and focused her magic. The massive tank rippled and shimmered as her magic enveloped it. Metal groaned. Crusader shook and shuddered as its magically enhanced fuel objected to the foreign magic racing through it. Luna began to sweat. Her wings twitched. Her brow furrowed. The energy enveloping the tank shone bright blue as it reached its peak— Trac jumped as the world’s largest whip cracked. Crusader shuddered, shook, and jerked slightly as if it had fallen. The sound of roaring flames shrieked all around them. A gastly aroma permeated the air; burning homes mixed with burning bodies. Griffon laughter and hunting cries punctuated the crackling of flames and rumble of collapsing buildings. Trac’s heart stopped beating as the world around him vanished. Decade old memories raced through his mind like rivers of molten metal. He was suddenly hiding beneath a pile of hay, nose pressed into the dirt. Bunker pursed her lips, watching Trac’s building panic with worry. “Trac, buddy, you okay?” His hooves began to shake. His eyes shrank to pinpricks. It’s just like then. It’s just like then. It’s just like then. It’s just like then. It’s just like— Crusader’s boiler moaned as the tank shook off the last of the stress teleporting had put on the poor machine. Trac’s heart resumed beating as he felt Crusader’s seat beneath his plot and constroll sticks in his hooves. “It's not like then. I have a tank.” Trac said blankly. Bunker’s ears lay flat. “What’s with him, Thunder?” Thunder looked back at Bunker in disbelief. “Did you forget he lost family to the last Griffon raid?” Bunker winced and nodded once, not wanting to verbally admit she had. Trac lips pulled back in a sickly smile. “I have a tank!” Bunker cleared her throat. “That’s right, we’re in sixty tons of armor. We’ll be okay. Thunder, as soon as we’ve got power find those engines and fire.” Trac’s eyes widened. “BUCK! Startup sequence! Uh, step six! I was on six!” He began to franticly resume switching Crusader on. We’re only halfway on and we’re in the field! It’s a miracle we’re not being shot— “TANK!” A distant voice screeched. A heartbeat passed. Crusader’s hull began to ring like a bell as small arms fire began to slam into its top and sides. The tank chuffed as its main power came online. The engine growled slightly, its turbine misaligned by the teleport. Trac winced. Oh shit! It’s going to shut down! Crusader twitched. The Harmonics field blossomed around its hull. The plink of bullets hitting armor stopped. Several gauges on the dash twitched and jumped. Trac let out a held breath and wiped his forehead with the back of his hoof. But not just yet. “We’re on borrowed time. I shouldn’t have started him up before the teleport.” Bunker nodded sharply. “Then we move fast! Thunder?” “On it!” The pegasus pulled at the controls, swinging the barrel up to take aim at the armored airship perched above the town. “Engines, right?” Bunker nodded. “Yeah, the balloon will be too well armored. No way they’ll attack in a gas bag we can puncture.” Thunder swiveled the turret to being the starboard engine into his crosshair. The bulky engine hung off the balloon, just behind the “wing”. His hooves squeezed the trigger. Crusader roared, spitting fire as the live round blasted through the air, flying towards its target like a javelin. The round hit the armored engine and exploded, shaking the morot’s housing, but doing little real damage. Thunder swore under his breath. “Hard Target. Minimal damage.” Trac’s eye twitched. “Then shoot till it explodes!” Thunder frowned. “Uh… How long will those wards hold?” Trac glanced at the harmonic gauge. The needle was already dipping down below eighty percent. “Oh… Right…” Bunker smiled bitterly. “Gentlemen, I propose we shoot and scoot.” “Right!” Trac rammed both control sticks forwards. Crusader roared and shot forward, slipping out from under the hail of bullets the griffons had been heaping upon it. The circling flock of Hawks shifted their aim, keeping up with the tank as it raced down the street, its tracks tearing up the road. Soon enough the fire rained down on the shielded tank once again. Bunker tapped a series of commands into her commander’s console. “Mmm… There’s a large firefight near a school to the east. Trac, head over there. Someone will be able to get these birds off our tails.” Thunder grit his teeth and took a second shot, hitting the engine slightly higher up. “Crap! Deflection. No damage.” Trac narrowed his eyes and looked through all three of the driver’s periscopes. Kinda pissed I’m not shooting... Aemiliana Tarquinius Cyprianas - 21st of Lunar Dusk, 08 EoH West Bloomfield - Equestria A short ways away from the rumbling tank a slightly more dangerous threat occupied most of the griffon’s attention. Ameili’s biosuit had long since been reduced to tattered rags. Bullets had eroded the garment within the first five minutes of battle, leaving her synthetic body and clockwork limbs were on display for all to see. Along with more than a few of her bones. Pain flooded Ameili’s body as each and every cut, rip, and scrape in her foam body screamed like a real wound. Her mind payed them no heed as the undead battlemage danced her way across the corpse strewn square. Piles upon piles of charred bodies and scorched armor lay where they had fallen. Dotted here and there amongst the fallen griffons was the occasional body of a pony. Many of which were dressed in deputy’s uniforms. Ameili’s stand had drawn in many ponies looking for a place to make a stand. Only one remained standing. He had come crashing through the wall of a burning building. A skinny white unicorn stallion, clad in classic motorcyclist gang apparel with a pair of Hay-ban sunglasses. All while wielding a pair of the belt-fed heavy bolters Ameili had seen some of the deputies setting up behind barricades. Only instead of using them from behind cover, he had ripped the weapons off their tripods, put a shield spell around himself and was currently wielding the heavy bolters via his telekinesis. Each bolt his weapons sent to the beat of the many pro-war songs blaring from an enchanted amulet hanging around the stallion’s neck. Ameili couldn’t help but notice her fellow warrior’s cutiemark was a heavy-support gun crossed with a red bandana tied into a headband. While Ameili had no idea what the symbolism meant, she understood her new best friend’s talent lay in warfare. He’d very helpfully said so while the Hawks gaped at the skinny unicorn who had plowed through a brick wall. “I’ve come here chew bubblegum and kick ass. And I’m all outta bubblegum.” The Hawks had responded appropriately. With a lot of bullets. Unfortunately their small arms couldn’t pierce the stallion’s shield spell. Feeling a need to out-awesome his dynamic entry, Ameili had conjured a small army of flame-tendrils. They reached out from her wings, snapping and cracking like whips at anyone who got within their lengthy reach, leaving scorch marks behind after each hit. Ameili’s metaphorical heart raced as she lept through the air, trailing flames as she flew like a dart towards a griffon’s exposed back. The griffon screeched as her hooves slammed into her spine, sending her crashing into the cobblestones at high speed. Ameili laughed, conjured a ball of fire in her left hoof and rammed it into the joint between the griffon’s cuirass and helmet. The griffon shrieked, thrashing in pain and terror as her feathers immediately combusted. Ameili rolled off the dying soldier's back and sprinted towards her next target, her shield raised. But not towards her target. The red tower shield was battered, chipped, and splintered. Its enchantments allowed it to mostly endure the hail of bullets sent Ameili’s way, but not forever. She knew her shield would fail soon. The Hawk’s pistols and submachine guns were minor nuisances. The spells strengthening her bones could endure their blows for months before failing. But those were not the only weapons the enemy had. The ground seemed to jump as Baron Murcrow fired his tenth shot of the evening. Six ounces of lead blasted forth on a cloud of fire and smashed into Amili’s shield. The ancient enchanted timbers splintered, cracked, then shattered, unable to take the force of yet another .700 nitro cartridge. Ameili yelped as she was flung to the ground, shards of her broken shield piercing her synthetic skin like a cloud of needles. Pain radiated along her left foreleg, breaking her concentration enough to dispel her fire-tendrils. Ameili grunted and pushed herself up to her hooves, swaying unsteadily. The Baron’s eyes lit up as he watched Ameili stand. Seizing his chance he shifted his aim and took a deep breath. The next disruptor round wouldn’t miss. The rifle roared again and the round caught Ameili squarely in her barrel. The anti-dragon round tore through her latex skin, carving a hoof-wide hole into her chest and out her side. Ameili spun through the air before crashing into the ground, her jaw hanging open in a silent scream as white-hot needles plunged into every single point on her body. Across the squair, the Baron lowered his rifle and smiled. “Ah! Now that was something. Hawk, fetch her body, please. This one is going to hang over my mantle.” Ameili closed her eyes tightly and did her best to force herself through the pain. Her mind churned and boiled under the strain before she at last clawed her way back into consciousness. Ameili closed her mouth and tried to stand, but her legs refused to move more than a few centimeters. What the hay is in those rounds? That felt like I was punched in the soul. One of the Hawks near the Baron took to the air and flew towards Ameili to retrieve her body, the other three remaining at his side to keep suppressing fire focused on their other still active opponent. Ameili’s futile squirming was overlooked by the griffons as the twitching of a dead mare’s clockworks. A common enough occurrence. It was not overlooked by her brother-in-arms. The stallion sprinted across the square, ignoring the bullets plinking off his shield to focus all his attention on sending hot-iron into the griffon heading for Ameili’s limp form. Ameili couldn’t help but smile at the white stallion. I have no idea who he is, but if he lives through this, we should get a drink! The stallion’s thundering weapons blew the charging Hawk aside moments before he reached Ameili’s side. The stallion close his eyes, his horn brightening as he extended his shield over Ameili before holding out a hoof for her to take. “Can you still stand, Bone?” he asked with genuine concern. Ameili reached for his hoof, her shaking leg managing to just barely grab hold of his foreleg. “I’m only half bone.” Ameili said weakly. The Baron’s beak dropped open. “She’s not dead? Inconceivable!” He reached to the bag hanging from his side and retrieved another two shells, breaking his rifle open to load them. Ameili’s new friend pulled her to her hooves and tipped his head forward to wink at her over his glasses. “I can see that. Never had a nickname before? Heh, well, here’s hoping you live through the night!” Ameili gave his hoof a squeeze before letting go. “I think we both know I’m not in a position to be killed.” The stallion looked at the hole punched through Ameili and shrugged. “Well what do you say? Re-killed? Meh, how about we forget that noise and get back to fighting bad guys?” Ameili’s head tilted as she processed the stallion’s words. He knows I’m undead and still flirted with me? “What’s your name?” “Flint, just moved up from Ponyville. Things were a bit too boring for me after Twilight and her friends started solving every little thing inside twenty minutes. How about you, what’s your name?” “I am Aemiliana Tarquinius Cyprianas. It’s nice to meet you.” Ameili‘s horn burned orange, lighting up her face beneath the battered remains of her helmet. Flint frowned. “I think that hunter ‘chap’ will get another shot off before you can-” The Baron fired. His enchanted round streaked through the air, striking Flint’s shield and throwing a shower of bright purple sparks every which way. Flint dropped to his knees, his eyes shut tight. “Aaa! Man that stung. What is he firing?” Ameili pointed to Flint’s twin pony-sized guns. “Shoot him?” Flint sighed. “Can’t. Watch.” The stallion squeezed both weapons triggers, sending a volley of superheated bolts hurtling towards the distant griffon. The bolts struck the air in front of the griffon, stopping dead with a metallic shriek before slowly sliding to the ground. Well… That complicates things. If I leave the shield he shoots me. I don't know if I’ll survive another hit. Even if I do leave the shield, he’s shielded too. Flint cupped his hooves around his muzzle “Buck you and your invisible shield, cheater!” The Baron responded by firing again. The enchanted bullet punched Flint’s shield, cracking the arcane construct and making a thin line of blood ooze out of the stallion’s left nostril. “Ow! Sheesh, what kind of gun is that? A Penis Compensator Nine-Thousand? It’s like five hundred of the little guns at once,” Flint grumbled. The Baron ignored the crass remark and broke his gun open to reload once more. “Hawk, if they move, tell me. Forty meters is more than enough time to cut them down if they charge.” Ameili rolled her eyes, smirking despite the dire situation. “Said the stallion dual wielding guns the length of his body.” Flint beamed Ameili the brightest smile she’d ever seen. “I’ll have you know mine’s bigger than these! No, but seriously, we're pretty screwed. These things can almost punch through his invisible horseapples, but this isn’t horseshoes or hoofgrenades.” Ameili squinted and searched the inferno engulfing them for any sign of Vulcan. “I had a friend who could help… But he ran off to help contain the fires.” Flint shrugged. “Well… If we’re gonna die…” The stallion reared up, hit shuffle on his music player, pointed both anti-vehicle bolters into the air, and fired off a long sustained burst while roaring a challenge to everyone within sight. The awesome display shook many of the Silver Hawks who had no forcefield creating belt-buckles to protect them. A few dove for cover even before Flint swept his bolters across the square to indiscriminately perforate everything within his sight as an overly dramatic male choir and galvanic guitar rocked the battlefield. “On sixth of Megan. // On the shores of western Zebrica. 1944. // Death is upon us! // Through the gates of hell, // as we make our way to heaven, // through the Zebra lines, // Primo victoria!” Ameili’s eyes lit up. “I remember that war!” her smile turned into a wince. Probably shouldn’t tell Flint I accidently started it. Who know that warlord would be so angry? Ameili reared up as well. The pyromancer cleared her mind and conjured a pair of fireballs, one in each forehoof. Her damaged left shoulder screamed as she flung both orbs of blazing red flame at the mad huntsman standing before her. The twin fireballs streaked through the air, trailing sparks and smoke. The Baron’s Hawks dove for cover, remembering all to well how their comrades flesh boiled away beneath those bolts. The Baron stood still. The bolts splattered against his shield, making it flash white for a split second after each impact. Ameili cursed. The Baron snapped his rifle closed and raised it. “Good try, but one does not hunt unicorns without being prepared for wizards.” The griffon’s rifle thundered. The disrupter round smashed into Flint’s shield, shattering it into a shower of arcane dust. Flint dropped to his knees again, spitting blood as a vessel in his nose popped under stress. The bolter on his right side fell to the ground, clattering across the stones. Ameili gathered her hooves beneath her. He has two shots. I can dodge one, if I push Flint out of the way, he can get to cover behind the fountain. We’ll plan from there. Flint growled and fired a bolt from his remaining weapon. The red-hot iron dart pierced halfway through the Baron’s shield, just like the others. Baron Murcrow sighed. “You know the entire point of intelligent prey is to make it sporting, don’t you? Would it have killed you to bring a proper weapon?” Ameili’s jaw dropped. “Sporting? You have a shield spell and a rifle which hits like Mars’ fist to fight unarmed civilians!” The Baron sighed. “The ‘it’ in question is ‘Hunting without forsaking the use of our minds’. There’s no chance of a fair match with animals, our minds have given us all these wonderful tools for safely bagging our game. Only equally cunning minds pose a threat to us. It’s a shame you didn’t use yours and found a proper weapon before making your stand. Farewell!” The Baron aimed his rifle at Ameili. Ameili narrowed her eyes, focusing on his trigger-talon, readying her jump. One… Stone cracked in the not-so-distant-distance. Two… Something large and metallic creaked and groaned. Two-and-a-half... The Baron’s tallon began to tighten around the trigger. Ameili shifted her weight and— Flint pointed to the street to the Baron’s left. “You mean like that one?” The Baron paused. Knowing he was in no danger he turned his head to look left. Ameili jumped, tackling Flint and rolling with him several meters across the square. The Baron’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Ameili sprang up and pointed to the battered fountain. “Quick! Make for the fount—” Ameili’s desperate cry was cut off by the crunch of a brick wall collapsing underneath Crusader's bulk like a foal knocking over wooden blocks. The massive black and purple tank rolled into the square, its engine’s deep bass rumbling almost entirely muffled by the crackling flames surrounding the bloodsoaked square. The blazing inferno shrank back as the tank fired, sending a shell screaming into the Griffon’s airship. A ball of blue-green fire blossomed on the airship’s hull. Bits of propeller and motor began to rain down over West Bloomfield. The Baron took a step back. “That’s hardly fair!” Flint smirked. “I’m sorry. We don’t give a buck!” Ameili couldn’t help but smile. Ah, hypocrisy goes so well with irony!