//------------------------------// // Raiders // Story: Strange Bedfellows // by BRBrony9 //------------------------------// The long tunnel was dark, hot and surprisingly moist. Condensation dripped from the smooth rock walls. Nothing could be seen up ahead beyond the glow of their helmet mounted flashlights. Spitfire and her squad had the point, moving ahead of the rest. Three companies of Assault Infantry followed, more than three hundred ponies in close formation, covering the front and the rear, and, despite the solid walls of stone, covering the flanks as well. The Changeling menace was nothing if not insidious and adaptable, and they could spring from anywhere at any time. Nopony was taking any chances. They knew what, and who, they were looking for, but they had no idea where to find their targets. The Hive would be deep, confusing. It would be like searching a maze. Added to the dangers would be the fact that this Hive was located inside a volcano; if they went too far in, they might encounter magma chambers, poisonous gases, Celestia knows what else. The dangers were significant, even without the presence of the enemy. The possibility of hostile contact merely magnified them. But each stallion and each mare knew what they had to do. Spitfire scanned the gloom ahead. There were no Changelings in the tunnel, and in a way that was more unnerving than if they had come under immediate attack. Were they truly leaving the entrances unguarded, with every drone being called out to fight the fleet, or were there enemies lurking in the shadows? Their flashlights gave their positions away, but the farther they went in the tunnels, the more necessary they became, because without them it would have been complete darkness. The Changelings had far better eyesight, especially in low light conditions and at night, than ponies did, added to which they could use the Hive Mind and their knowledge of the Hive layout in order to navigate their way around. The infiltration team had no such advantage. They also didn't know where they were going. Their knowledge of the interior of the Hive was zero. Hive layouts differed; both of the previous two Hives the STG had infiltrated were completely different, their forms varying depending on a hundred factors. Soil composition, rock thickness and density, temperature, depth of bedrock, possibility of seismic activity, purpose of the Hive and of each chamber and tunnel within it, and perhaps even the vagaries of the Queen's whims and moods. Nopony knew for sure what exactly prompted a particular pattern or design, and as such nopony could predict what the assault force might encounter. Nor could they predict where exactly their target was. They had to recover both the Element and, ideally, Twilight Sparkle as well. But Celestia's orders had been clear; the Element was more important than the bearer. Despite the affection the princess felt for her student, she knew that it was the tiara she carried that was the real strength. New bearers could be found; Celestia or her sister could wear them if needed. But without the artefact itself, none of that would matter. The princess had made sure Spitfire and the other officers understood. If things should come to a head and a choice had to be made to save Twilight or to save the Element, then the Element had absolute priority. Unfortunately, they had no idea where within the Hive either target might be located. No doubt they would be kept separate, but with no blueprints or photographs of the layout, the likely locations of any prison cells or high-security storage chambers was unknown. They would have to search for themselves. The tunnel, like all the other entrance tunnels they had been in, sloped downward. Unlike the others, it was hot. Though no lava flowed through it, it could not be far removed from the bubbling magma chamber beneath the mountain, with perhaps nothing but a few feet of rock between the two as they went lower. A fork offered two choices, left or right, a simple decision, yet one that could not be made with any semblance of reason or logic. Spitfire played out a quick foal's rhyme in her head to help decide between two alternatives, and she signaled the ponies behind her to head left. Splitting up was an option, but could invite disaster in the dark if they were to get lost. There was no way of communicating between the two groups if they split off, and dividing their small force when there may be thousands of Changelings still within the Hive would be more foolish than pragmatic. They went left. Still there was no contact. Water dripped around them. The Assault Infantry followed on behind the STG as they probed deeper into the Hive. The tunnel leveled out before suddenly diving away again, more steeply this time. The temperature continued to rise until every pony was sweating. Finally there was noise up ahead. Spitfire gave a quick signal for every flashlight to be switched off. She crept ahead with her squad, slowly, keeping crouched low, staying in the shadows. The tunnel opened out, connecting to a large chamber. Changelings could be seen, flitting around. Spitfire counted about fifty of the creatures. Pillars of rock held up the ceiling of the otherwise hollow space, while magma could be seen bubbling below through cracks in the stone floor. There was a surprising amount of light, especially in contrast to the tunnel they had been navigating through. The purpose of the chamber was unknown, but the tunnel opened directly into it. There were no galleries behind rock walls or side passages that they could take. If they entered the chamber, they would be spotted, and every Changeling would know where they were. Their options were limited; press on, or turn back, try the other tunnel, and perhaps run into the same problem having wasted another ten minutes. Time was of the essence, as there was no guarantee how long the battle outside would last. The fleet may be forced to retreat, or be destroyed entirely, in which case the mass of drones would return to the Hive and catch them from behind. Spitfire made a decision. They would have to press on. They had as good a chance of locating Twilight or the Element by continuing down this path as by retreating, and they would be wasting time to do so. Quick signals moved ponies into position at the edge of the tunnel, while the rest of the Assault Infantry waited behind. Spitfire raised her hoof, held it, and lowered it. A ripple of gunfire echoed around the cavern. The Fillydelphia was besieged on all sides. The crew were hard-pressed to keep the Changelings from completely overrunning the top deck. Ironside found himself fighting back to back with the helmspony as they were forced to abandon the quarterdeck and the ship's wheel. The crew were taking losses, but they were giving back more than their fair share. Changelings went down under gunfire and melee attacks, some dropping on the deck and others tumbling away to the ground below. The fighting was close, confusing and extremely dangerous. Not only were the crew fighting the enemy, they were fighting the confines of the deck. For the non-Pegasi members of the crew, one false step while backing up from a Changeling lunge could see them tripping over the rails and falling to their deaths. There were hatches down which one could take a tumble. There were coils of rope and loose shells and tools, not to mention the bodies. It was getting hard to walk without stumbling over a body or slipping on blood, the green fluid of the Changelings mingling with the crimson of fallen ponies. Below, where the Changelings had slipped in through the gunports and were ravaging the gun decks, the fighting was even more vicious. The gun crews were not known for their soft nature, and frequently the more bellicose trainees were assigned to the gun crews upon their enlistment in the Airship Command. Fights on some of the less well-disciplined ships were fairly common, and many was the back alley brawl between two ponies who had their eyes on the same whore. The Fillydelphia's crew were evidently no strangers to such activities, and they took to their duties with a will, making the Changelings regret ever daring to set foot on their gun decks. Every available weapon was used, from rifles and hoofguns to knives, clubs, fire axes, and even other implements such as scalpels from the infirmary and pans from the galley, surprisingly effective at bludgeoning a Changeling's skull into broken fragments. Luckily, the drones had at least enough instinct of self-preservation not to use their magic below decks where the ammunition was piled high and one stray bolt could cause a disaster. Instead they used their physical strength, leaping and biting and trampling. The ponies responded in kind, strong muscles meeting the foe with powerful swings of whatever weapon they had to hoof, cracking skulls and ribs. But the Changelings were tenacious, hardy beasts, and despite their sometimes frail-looking appearance, with holes in their limbs and thin insectlike wings, they could take quite the punishment in close combat, with their chitinous outer plating providing solid protection against glancing bullets or stabbing blows. Their soulless eyes glowed greenish-blue, their lack of pupils or irises giving an otherworldly appearance as they stomped and hissed, going in for the killing bite whenever they could, bowling ponies down with a sudden burst of speed, driven by their wings. Most of the crew had never fought Changelings before, while those that had were only able to boast of engaging them from on high when dispersing a raid on some outlying village. None of them had found recourse to fight drones up close before. It was not usually the Changeling modus operandi, except, as the fleet was now discovering, in defence of something. Their Hive was the ultimate prize, the only thing that the Changelings really cared about; protecting their home, and their Queen. On the top deck, Captain Ironside could see control of his airship slipping away from him. Ponies were being crowded, almost herded, into groups by the relentless assault of the Changelings. The infantry were fighting tirelessly alongside his crew, but they were cut off from the lower decks where they could find resupply for their rifle ammunition. As their magazines and bandoliers ran dry they were forced to resort to using their bayonets, which they found had trouble penetrating the carapace of the drones, just as the ponies below deck were discovering the same problem with their knives and axes. Ironside watched as two of the Pegasi infantry, surrounded by half a dozen drones and out of ammunition, took to the wing to escape, flapping up and away from their assailants, only to be cut from the sky by a rapid hail of magic bolts. Closer to home, another drone landed in front of him, snarling. He had no time to reload his pistol, and instead he tried an immediate thrust with his sword, which struck home, but not in a weak spot the way it had when the Changelings first boarded, a lifetime ago, it seemed, though only minutes had passed. The drone leaped at him, forcing his sword hoof out to the side and bundling him over. He managed to retain his grip on the sabre, but his pistol clattered away. The drone wasted no time, going straight for the jugular with its sharp fangs. Ironside was just able to turn his sword hoof and thrust upward, stabbing the creature in its soft underbelly. It hissed in pain and recoiled, and Ironside gave a sharp tug on the sword, bringing it towards him and slitting the drone right open, its warm intestines spilling out onto the deck. Ironside rolled to the left and stood, his hind legs covered in gore from his bested foe. There were more still coming, more in the air, more surrounding the airship, more on the deck, and some coming up from below. The situation seemed dire, but Ironside could not accept that he would be the first captain to lose his airship to an enemy boarding action. He swung his sword again and again as more of the drones crowded the deck, which was awash with blood. It was hopeless. But when all hope is lost, sometimes prayers can be answered. As the crew and passengers fought bitterly with everything they had, Changelings hovering near the ship began dropping from the sky. Nopony noticed at first, the cause unknown, until a shout went up from somewhere, a cry of joy, not of fear. Beyond the Changelings, there were ponies. Stallions and mares of the Royal Equestrian Army, passengers aboard the transport airships, were sweeping in with blazing rifles. The fighting aboard the Fillydelphia had been taking place for only a few minutes, during which time officers aboard the transports had been able to organise. Despite having orders to remain with the ships until they were able to land at the Hive, the initiative was taken by those aboard the nearest transports, and those Pegasi among the soldiers were hastily briefed and thrown into the fight. They caught the Changelings by surprise, and despite their swift attempts to rally, found themselves under heavy and accurate rifle fire from several hundred ponies. The pressure on the Fillydelphia was relieved somewhat as a large number of the drones turned to face the new threat. The numerous survivors of the crew and passengers were able to counter, charging forward with renewed vigor and driving back the Changelings whom they now outnumbered. The few remaining drones took to the skies to join their fellows in trying to fight off the Army, but more Pegasi were now coming in from the more distant of the transports, and their numbers and accuracy told. The surviving drones fled, flying back toward the main swarm that still threatened the fleet. Rifle fire chased them off, bringing down several of their number. The Fillydelphia's crew mopped up the final few drones tucked away below decks. The airship was safe, for now, but the battle was still raging on, and they had to get back into it. Ironside ordered the wounded taken below, the bodies of the dead left where they fell. There was no time to do anything with them other than offer a silent prayer for the fallen and ignore the corpses of the drones they had killed. The decks could be cleared once the battle was won. The bow of the Fillydelphia turned once more, back towards the Hive, and back towards the fight. A dozen Changelings went down in the first volley, caught completely by surprise. But while the entrance tunnel itself may have been unguarded, the Hive was not. Drones rapidly began to appear from side tunnels down below as Spitfire's team engaged them. Another volley killed more, but every drone now knew where their target was, and a menacing buzz filled the air as they charged towards the ponies. Spitfire led the counter-charge, rapid bursts of fire from her machine-rifle felling several drones. The Assault Infantry flooded into the chamber behind her. Now that they had been discovered, they had to act and move quickly. The firepower of the ponies told, rapidly cutting down the majority of the drones who buzzed around the chamber. Some magic flashed and struck down two Pegasi in retaliation, but they were able to sweep through the chamber, clearing it. No more drones emerged from the side passages. There were several potential routes to take out of the cavern, and no particular reason to take any of them. Spitfire picked one that looked like it continued on downward, reasoning that, if the Hive was constructed anything like a pony castle would be, then the prisoners would most likely be kept at the lowest point, farthest from the main entrances. Of course, there was no guarantee that the Changeling mindset was similar to that of the ponies, but it was all they could cling to in such circumstances. The alternative was to wander blindly through the darkness. Now that they had been discovered, Spitfire ordered glow-sticks to be left marking their path, since a drone coming across one would no longer matter. Every drone in the Hive would know their location within the chamber, which meant they had to move quickly to try and frustrate any attempt at pursuit or interception. They set off down the sloping tunnel. An occasional drone loomed out of the dark, and they were ruthlessly cut down. Each drone that sighted them would update the Changelings to their location, allowing for relatively easy tracking of the raiding party through the Hive, especially as they themselves did not know the intricacies of the back passages and side tunnels the way the natives did. The tunnel continued its descent before coming to another chamber. This one was vast, their flashlight beams only penetrating part of the way into the room. Sheer rock walls on all sides greeted them, and as they moved in, they were met by a sudden hail of magic. Glowing eyes in the darkness marked the sinister intent of at least a hundred drones, whose movements could not be discerned in the shadows. Rifle fire met them in response, flashlight beams swinging wildly as ponies turned to try ndn strike back at the unseen adversaries. Some of the Pegasi took to the air to meet those drones who were flying above, while others remained on the ground, taking cover behind lumps of rock and columns of stone where they were available. A chaotic firefight rapidly erupted, spreading across the huge chamber as drones and ponies alike swirled in a dogfight in the darkness. The Changelings had the advantage in eyesight, but the pony flashlights were helping. Every time a drone was caught in the beam, bullets found it, and down it went. Changelings struck as if from nowhere, killing several unfortunate ponies. Others were dragged from the air by drones that surged out of the dark. That which could not be seen could not be anticipated or countered easily, and the ponies began to pay the price. Spitfire sighted in on another drone. A quick five-round burst from her machine-rifle did away with it, and she switched targets in a flash, a half glimpsed shape momentarily suspended in her flashlight beam. Another burst, and another drone hit the floor. Her machine-rifle swung to the next target, a drone atop one of the Assault Infantry, about to tear his throat out. Spitfire blew the back of its head off instead. Her machine-rifle was proving to be an excellent weapon, far superior to the standard repeating rifle in firepower, rate of fire and damage output. Its accuracy suffered if fired on fully automatic, which was why the guidance was to fire in shot bursts. Each burst was more than capable of felling most foes, and the weapon, in the hooves of the STG, was performing admirably against the Changelings. It even featured bayonet lugs for mounting a blade, improving its already formidable close-quarters ability. Only a lucky drone would catch all five bullets fired in a burst on its thick carapace and not be struck in any vital areas. The drones still had the numbers advantage, however, despite the more than three hundred ponies now storming the chamber. The strobing lighting of muzzle flashes, glowing horns and sweeping flashlight beams was dazzling and disorienting, both to the ponies and to the Changelings, who were not used to such light shows within their normally gloomy Hive. These drones had not been above ground in some time, unlike those fighting the fleet. Their eyes were adapted for darkness, and they found the lights to be blinding. A small force of drones, flapping high above at the top of the tall chamber, managed to swoop down to the rear, cutting off retreat to the tunnel. Some of the Assault Infantry turned to engage them, striking hard and fast blows with their rifles even as magic cut several of them down. They were able to push back and clear a path, bayoneting any drones that got in their way. Other ponies pushed to the flanks, while the STG with their heavy firepower, and the main bulk of the Assault Infantry drove straight up the middle, both on the ground and above. Magic proved to be the real killer, accounting for almost two dozen ponies, but guns were just as potent as the drone's green bolts of death, and soon the chamber was being thoroughly swept, the surviving drones pushed back toward the far end, corralled by gunfire and pinned in the flashlight beams for rifles to finish off. Spitfire pressed home the advantage, and the raiding force ruthlessly finished off the remaining drones. The chamber was cleared, but there was no time to stop, no time to rest or to mourn for their dead. Even now, thousands of drones could be racing down the tunnels from above, or surging up from deeper in the Hive. They had to press on, and on, and on until they reached their goal, however futile it might seem. There was a good chance they would all die here and nopony would ever learn of their fate. But without the Element of Magic, the whole of Equestria might someday die in darkness and agony, and so on they went. The tunnel took them lower. Once more there was exposed magma, its eerie glow adding some light to the passageway ahead. They were deep in the Hive now, probably deeper than any live pony had ever been. Except, perhaps, for the target they were seeking. Another cavern was reached, this time empty, seeming to serve as some kind of sleeping area, but no Changelings were present, having been summoned to defend their home. There were more tunnels branching off, with no way of knowing which one might lead them to their targets. It seemed to be a fool's errand. Spitfire ordered the raiding force to split up, against her better judgement, but there was too much ground to cover. She ordered each unit to explore their assigned tunnel for ten minutes before returning to the chamber to regroup. If any of them spotted anything unusual, the entire force would make tracks down that tunnel to investigate. They set off, with the STG holding down the chamber in case of attack from behind. Five minutes passed, then ten. Gunfire could be heard down at least one of the tunnels, but with the echoing caused by the underground structure, its exact location was hard to determine. Ponies began to return, from one tunnel at first, then two, then all of them. One Lieutenant reported they had encountered drones guarding another small chamber. With nothing else to go on, Spitfire ordered the entire force along that tunnel to the chamber in question. From this smaller room, a single corridor branched off, dark and slick with condensation. At the end was another cavern, with two corridors. There were also more Changelings; alerted by the approaching flashlight beams, they snapped into action, hurling magic at the intruders. As the ponies entered the chamber, the drones focused their efforts on blocking them from one of the two corridors in particular. They were cut down without mercy by massed rifle fire. The Changelings had appeared to try to keep them away from one tunnel. Spitfire and the STG led the way. The corridor was short and contained but a single metal door, rather incongruous with the surroundings of rock. Spitfire and Arcwing took point at the door. Not knowing what was on the other side, they dare not utilise one of the sticky bombs as a breaching tool. Rather, Sunflower took position, and with a hefty kick of her hind legs, smashed the door open. Spitfire and Arcwing stormed inside, machine-rifles raised and ready to confront whatever lay beyond. Private Phantom found that her fear was starting to rapidly return. The Changelings seemed innumerable. Every time one fell, a dozen more would spring from behind the rocks and out of the gulleys. She was down to her last two clips of ammunition; every soldier had received a double issue of rifle rounds for this operation, but with so many targets it was easy to rattle through them at a rapid pace. Field guns had been brought up from the rear and were firing over open sights into the drones attacking on the ground. Canister shells, normally outlawed for use against most 'civilised' targets such as Griffons and Zebras, had been supplied to the artillery crews, and they were making good use of them, ripping drones to shreds with each shot as thousands of pieces of grapeshot tore through their bodies. Phantom found herself sickened by the death and devastation all around her. She had seen drones explode into a fine mist; no great loss, but still disturbing to witness. She had seen friends die, tried in vain to help them as they breathed their last. She had felt the heat of a near-miss blast of magic that singed her mane, and once again, she was terrified. They were holding the line, to be sure, but the Changelings just kept on coming. more and more of them. Still, all she had to do was turn her eyes skyward for solace. The princess and her sister were still up there, still unharmed, still fighting. She could see them, along with the fleet, all battling bravely, determined to break through. Several of the smaller airships had lost their shields, but their guns were still blazing. Phantom turned her attention back to the ground. More Changelings were charging in. She took aim, but there was a sudden brilliant green flash that lit up the terrain. She winced, blinking a few times. None of the drones had fired magic at her. She looked around and saw nothing, just the drones, the rocks and the rest of her squad. She looked up again, and gasped.