//------------------------------// // Under Attack // Story: Strange Bedfellows // by BRBrony9 //------------------------------// The catacombs rang and shook with the sound of explosions above ground. Rivulets of dirt ran down from the ceiling, scattering upon the heads and shoulders of the ponies crouching within, sheltering once again from the storm on the surface. The miserable conditions of a few days prior had returned to their lives; cowering civilians and their taciturn guards, keeping watch over the entrance to the catacombs and a keen eye on their charges for any internal problems that might arise. They were responsible for the safety of the civilians, but if the enemy made it to the catacomb entrance, it might well become their tomb. The ponies, civilians especially, had spent too long underground. They were not used to being cooped up below the surface, or to the rigours necessary for living in such close confines. The guardsponies and soldiers, at least, were accustomed to such a lifestyle, living in barracks and operating in the field. But many of these civilians had known nothing but pampering before the war. They were from Canterlot, the home of the Equestrian elite, the upper crust of society who never wanted for anything. Some were waited on hoof and snout by butlers and maids. Then again, so were the Princesses- and they were anything but defenceless. Nevertheless, the majority of ponies were accepting of the need for their confinement during the attack, as they had been during the days when fallout blanketed the city with its deadly touch. This was no different to them. They understood the why, the necessity of it, even if they did not exactly embrace the facts and all that they brought with them. They put their faith in the military and in the Princesses, even as explosions shook the streets above their heads. Twilight shared both their optimism and their fear. This was the second time she had been forced to take cover in the caverns below the palace, and this time the threat was far more direct than the invisible action of the radiation had been. They were under attack, with the enemy swarming all over the city. Twilight had seen them coming in as she and the last of the straggling civilians had made their way down into the catacombs under protection of some of the soldiers. Something, somehow, had forced a hole in Cadence's magic shield. That should not have been possible- Alicorn magic was impervious to the enemy beam weapons, that had been proven many times, although not by Cadence herself. Admittedly she was weaker than the royal sisters; Twilight knew that, at least in terms of raw power. But she specialised in defensive and healing magic. This was her role, this was what she was best at. Those human beam weapons should not have been able to punch through her shield like that. But if it had not been those weapons that had achieved the breakthrough, then what was it? Twilight had seen the red glow around the breach in the shield. She had initially assumed it to be some kind of residue from the beam weapons, but her analytical mind told her that wasn't possible. That was backed up by a few stray shots that she saw from incoming human aircraft or enemy troops who were already on the ground. They simply dissipated against the shield like she had seen others do against Celestia's defences on several occasions. Had the enemy developed some new weapon that was somehow effective where all their others had failed? Twilight tried to think of how exactly that could have been accomplished. Alicorn magic had proven strong enough to resist almost everything that could be thrown at it, either those weapons employed by ponies, their enemies, or indeed the humans. No physical projectile could pass through; bullets, cannon shells, the human beam weaponry, all failed to penetrate. It was possible that one of the human orbital weapons mounted on their ships could knock down an Alicorn shield; they had done so to the Canterlot dome during the initial invasion, but that had not been powered by one of the Princesses, but merely by a few unicorns. But there had been no orbital attack, just the glow of red around the opening which had been formed. Apart from powerful magic, Twilight could think of nothing else which could cause such a thing. But perhaps that was the answer. Magic may have caused it- just not the kind of magic they were used to. Twilight knew that humans used the term psyker to refer to a magical creature capable of projecting its energy. She also knew that the Princesses had been fighting the Daemon in Fillydelphia, and that it had possessed such powers. Maybe it, or some other psychic being among the ranks of Chaos, had been called into action to breach the shield where every other recourse had failed. Whatever the cause, it was a pinpoint, surgical cut, not a massive hammer blow from orbit as they had attempted previously during the first invasion. Whether that was indicative of new capabilities, or simply a new objective on their part, Twilight did not know. Nor would she find out by remaining below ground. She wanted to be up there, helping, but Celestia and Luna had insisted. Her place was helping the civilians, not helping them, and they did have a point. But Twilight felt that she had to make up for her mistakes. She had got herself captured, the Element taken, still not yet back in their possession. Her failure still haunted her, despite repeated assurances that it had not been her fault. She had to make up for it, she just had to, somehow or another. This was the perfect way, surely; if she could figure out how the enemy had made the breakthrough and punctured the shield, they could counteract it, close the gap and keep them at bay in the future. But she could not do that from underground. Yet she could not leave, either. The guards were restricting anypony from leaving, on orders from the Princess herself. It was too dangerous above ground, they told her, and several others who were anxious to get back topside. And so she had to sit and wait with her friends, keeping morale up as best she could; everypony else's, if not exactly her own. Each explosion reminded her that ponies were fighting and probably dying to help keep her and the others safe, and that she, despite the lack of her Element, should be up there fighting with them. She glanced at the stairs that led back up to the surface, guarded by two soldiers, with several more positioned on the staircase itself and covering the exterior doorway. yes, she could teleport herself away and back to the surface, but if she did that, then she would be failing the Princess once again. She could not bring herself to do that, and so she sat silently, sullenly, in the semi-darkness, wondering what things were like above ground. On the Boulevard of the Alicorns, a bloodbath was unfolding. The Chaos infantry from the first landing barge had advanced right into the teeth of the pony guns, and despite their technological advantage, their flesh was just as vulnerable to bullets and shells as that of any pony. They died in numbers, but they had help on the way. Two more barges came in, their defensive guns sweeping the tree-lined edges of the wide thoroughfare with fire, keeping pony heads firmly down as the barrages of shells passed over their positions. Cannons on the wall fired at the incoming craft, but did only superficial damage, not having armour-piercing warheads. They were unable to penetrate the hulls. More field guns were being rolled into position at the far end of the boulevard, protecting the approaches to the palace. The citywide command centre, established after the recapture in the main public library, was working overtime trying to deal with the incoming threats. They had no instant communication like the humans did, instead having to rely on rapid messengers, usually Pegasi, or on signal flags or lights. The city telegraph system was only in very limited service. Like that of the fire department, it could give rapid reports of an incident, provided another pony elsewhere could access a transmitter key and was in a safe enough spot to send a message, but for the most part, communication was proving difficult. The enemy could not only communicate, but also move, much faster than the ponies could. Their aircraft were in and gone before anti-air guns could be brought to bear on them, and the rapid fire weapons were proving ineffective against the more heavily armoured landing barges that were ferrying in troops and equipment. There was no panic in the command centre, but a certain air of distinct unease. Corporal Breeze could detect it all around him; he certainly shared it. The young guardspony had been detailed to serve his tour of duty today at the command centre as part of its protective company, a unit assigned to guard the nerve centre of the city at all times, day or night. His last eventful tour had been when he had detected and reported the fire in the ammunition depot at the theatre which had taken the life of a firepony and destroyed a large proportion of spare ammo and explosives for the city's defenders. Now this; another invasion of the city? Wasn't one enough? Breeze gripped his rifle tightly. His armour was prepared and ready, covered in grey and black camouflage paint and netting to hide its usual metallic appearance. Ever since the appearance of the second Chaos fleet, all guardsponies had been ordered to match their army colleagues and have their gear ready for combat, rather than policing, duties at a moment's notice. The Guard normally patrolled in their regalia and glittering golden armour, an imposing and obvious symbol of their power and their purpose as an extension of Celestia's will and dominance over her citizens. The mere sight of the armour and the famous blue helmet plumes could be enough to dissuade a would-be mugger or graffiti artist from his or her crime. But the Guard were also combat trained, and ready to defend Canterlot, or any other town or city they might be posted to. Holding a city as big as Canterlot with a force as small as they currently had available, however, was something of a pipe dream. Once the Chaos forces had been pushed out, it was expected that that would be the end of it- the end of realistic threats to the city. Nopony had counted on another fleet appearing and renewing the assault on the planet. It had seemed the human enemy had been broken, and now they were at the doorstep once more. Breeze held his position at the edge of the command centre's main room, what had formerly been the library's central archive. Great stacks and shelves full of books were already covered in dust after the weeks of neglect, while others had been burned in a senseless act in the rear courtyard by the occupying forces. The open space of the main atrium had been turned into the command centre, with large map boards displaying the city and the surrounding area, both at a general scale and also street by street grids. There were maps from the planning department of sewers and of the catacombs, so that action could be planned using subterranean access if needed. There were unit designations and lists of equipment, telegraph receiving stations, staff ponies and officers with much gold braid on their caps and epaulets coming and going, bringing and issuing orders and corrections, which were sent out by fast messenger, or over the telegraph if possible. The ponies on duty were augmented by some of the off-duty staff who had been hurriedly called in. Those who had been able to make it to the command centre had been put straight to the grindstone, assisting with the heavy workload now facing everypony. A citywide canvas of all units had to be conducted, and the enemy attack was making it very difficult to do so. The Chaos landing barges had come in at several strategic positions across the city, including the palace, the most obvious target, and the Boulevard of the Alicorns, the largest thoroughfare. The library, however, had escaped attack so far. Perhaps the Chaos forces, new arrivals to the planet, were unaware of the importance of the building and had simply targeted the other spots due to their universal strategic importance; wide, open areas suitable for landing their barges, the road clearly being a major route for supplies and reinforcement, and the palace, the largest building complex in the city, obviously having some kind of value, either as a command centre, a factory, military base or some other spot of significance. The library bore no obvious external marks that would identify it as an important building to a Chaos force. There were no vox antennae, no Auspex dishes, no vehicles parked outside save for a few carts and wagons which also lay dotted around other sites. There were no large-scale defensive positions nearby, no sandbags or bunkers, and no banners or standards flew from the roof. Basic precautions had been taken in case of enemy observation, Chaos or Changeling alike, and the building still appeared to all intents and purposes to be just a library from the outside. Inside, however, was another matter, with the hustle and bustle of a busy command centre that was trying to coordinate a response to the sudden invasion. Corporal Breeze's task was simple enough. He was to maintain perimeter watch and keep an eye on the western entrance to the building, which overlooked a street adjacent to the Boulevard of the Alicorns. Several squads had deployed into the street as a defensive force, crouching behind wagons and benches. There were no prepared defences; there had been no time to construct any, and since the threat of attack had seemingly receded, other than potentially by Changeling infiltration, large-scale defensive works such as barricades had been dispensed with. The library was not under direct attack, but it was situated perilously close to one of the major enemy landing sites. Heavy gunfire could be heard from the other side of a row of buildings; the boulevard was right there, and the landing site was but a few blocks to the south. The guards were on alert; an attack could come at any moment. Chaos could break through the line of defence and find their way to the library, or one of their imposing airships might find a place to set down its cargo nearby. Breeze kept a close watch on those ponies coming and going. Though this was a Chaos attack, clearly, it was always possible that Changelings might be taking the opportunity afforded to them by the confusion of an invasion to further their own ends, by infiltrating the command centre. They could also, perhaps, be working in conjunction with Chaos, although there had been no evidence of that so far- at least, none which had reached Breeze's ears. There was a lot of information withheld from low-ranking ponies, after all, and there were many rumours doing the rounds. It was rather hard to know which ones to believe. Breeze had seen nothing unusual or suspicious, though he knew full well that Changelings could easily integrate well enough to blend in totally with the ponies around them if they so desired. They could walk, act and talk just like a pony when the situation called for it. He wasn't unduly concerned about that possibility, however; it was unlikely the Changelings were trying something like that, and even if they were, there were far more immediate and greater threats to his personal well-being in the area for him to worry about. The gunfire was getting closer; only a little bit, and quite slowly, but things were definitely on the move. The initial report had said but a single landing craft had come in on the Boulevard of the Alicorns, but a later messenger, plus visual sightings from the library rooftop, confirmed two more of the ships had landed. There were others across the city, Breeze knew. Not the exact figure, but from the numbers of messengers coming and going, it was clearly more than just a couple. The threat was not confined to just a small area, but was citywide, just like the last time, when he and his unit had been forced to flee, escorting a large group of civilians to safety as best they could up in the mountains. That seemed like both a lifetime ago, and mere hours in the past. Time moved slow and fast for a guardspony, depending on what exactly they were doing. There were long shifts of utter boredom when not even a single minor nuisance crime would be called in, and then there were days like today. A few more of the former and a few less of the latter would have been very welcome to the young corporal. His duty was still clear, however, and he stayed firmly at his post, listening to the rattle of gunfire and the crump of ever-closer explosions. Enemy aircraft whipped by overhead, and occasionally from his doorway post he could see one of the Princesses flitting about the sky, a sight sure to boost the confidence of even the most wavering raw recruit. If they were still up there, then there was still hope of fighting off the enemy attack. Another of the ponderous landing craft came in, dropping down out of sight behind the rooftops, heading either for the same place on the Boulevard of the Alicorns as the other three, or at least somewhere close to it. Breeze watched it in a mixture of fear and admiration; how could such a craft fly? It had no wings to speak of, nor did it have any kind of gasbag like Equestrian airships did. There seemed to be no means of either propelling or lifting the craft at all, and yet there it was, as plain as day, visible to his naked eyes, and it was very definitely flying, or at the least, hovering. Perhaps it was magic- there had certainly been attempts, successful ones, to make non-aerodynamic objects fly using the power of unicorn magic. Maybe the humans had tried something similar and struck on a working formula? A shout distracted Breeze and made him turn his head. The cry went up again, but he couldn't determine from where. Above him? Yes, it was above him, on the roof. Ponies were shouting, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. He leaned out of the doorway and looked up in the hope of spotting some signal being relayed down. He saw no signal, but he certainly saw what the cries of alarm were about. An enemy aircraft was coming in. Not one of the huge landers, but something much smaller and sleeker, yet menacing in its design. This one definitely had wings, and it had various things slung beneath them. Given its purposeful dive, Breeze could have guessed at their purpose even if he had not seen similar craft already in action above the city. This was like any one of a score of other aircraft that were moving to and fro above, but there was a very good reason why this particular one had caused alarm on the roof. It was heading straight for them. Breeze turned back from the doorway and screamed into the command room. 'Incoming aircraft! Take cover!' The cries filtered down from the roof at the same time, ponies shouting from the upstairs balcony to warn those below. Breeze didn't dare to risk another glance outside, but instead flung himself to the floor, covering his head with his hooves and opening his mouth to equalise the pressure in case there was an explosion. There was, and what an explosion it sounded like to him. Despite his precautions, he went deaf, at least temporarily, only hearing a huge, cataclysmic bang before losing his auditory connection with the world around him. Dust cascaded down on him from above. He felt a brief wash of heat, then more dust, falling in torrents, like taking a shower in the stuff. Something struck him, then something else, and he felt himself being rolled over involuntarily. The dust now rained down on his face, and he reflexively turned his head away, his eyes tightly shut, throat clogged with the powdery material. After a few moments of violence, there was no more, and Breeze coughed, silent to him though he could feel the vibrations passing through his body. He had to clear his throat, and managed to do enough to breathe, at least, rolling onto his side and then his stomach, heaving and hacking, spitting out powder and dust. He opened his eyes, but the dust was so thick he could hardly see the floor. He did not feel injured, and got himself up on his hind hooves, trying to stand up but feeling something above him that should not have been there. He fumbled for his rifle, and found it on the floor a few feet away. The darkness was almost as cloying as the dust itself, but then as he searched for the exit, a brilliant shaft of white light suddenly cut through the fug. He crawled toward it, only to find it disappearing before him. Then, it reappeared once again, and he made a few more feet of progress before it faded to a pale half-light. He kept going, and after an eternity in the darkness he reached the outside world once again. Though he had only been a few feet from the doorway, the dust had been so thick as to obscure all light coming from the outside, except for one spot where it managed to break through temporarily, a beam of sunlight reflecting from a shattered window pane opposite, shining like a lighthouse intermittently as dust swirled and eddied through the street. Breeze looked down at himself, covered in plaster dust and almost unrecognisable. There was debris scattered all around, broken bricks and chunks of plaster and wood. There were bodies in the street, and he recognised some of them as ponies from the roof team. He glanced up at the library. No wonder. The roof was gone, and so were the top two floors, where some of the administration and archive rooms were located. Every window was shattered, and he could feel his hooves crunching broken glass beneath them as he walked unsteadily, dazed and still deafened by the explosion. The enemy aircraft must have dropped a bomb, or fired a cannon shell, or something- whatever the enemy used to attack ground targets. Perhaps there had been nothing signifying a command centre to a Chaos pilot, but with ponies on the roof, the library still looked like a target. Now they had been struck, and Breeze could only wonder what that meant for the defence of the city. There was the strategic command centre in the palace, yes, but that was geared to fighting the war at a grander scale, not to the defence of the city itself. That was why they had been in the library- it was inconspicuous, just a fairly large building of a few stories, not dissimilar to many others in the surrounding district and not military in intended purpose. It was meant to hide them. Perhaps it had, perhaps it had not, but either way, the building was now a smoking ruin. What of the staff? Breeze looked back at the doorway he had crawled from. Dust hung in the air like a blanket, and inside there seemed to be only darkness. There were probably survivors; after all, he was alive, though he had been very close to the exit. But how could he or anypony else even get back inside to check? Speaking of anypony else, was there anybody around? He looked left and right. Yes, there were ponies, a few dazed defenders who had ducked into cover as the bomber had made its run. Members of the squads who had been posted in the street were still alive, and they were hurrying over to the library to do what they could. One pony approached Breeze, speaking to him. All Breeze could do was shake his head and point at his ears; he couldn't hear. The pony nodded and gestured for Breeze to cross the street. He then pointed to his rifle and nodded; keep hold of it, you might well need it. Breeze trotted across the street and rested against the wall of a building. He watched other ponies trying to gain entry to the library while others crouched behind the battered flower pots and benches to cover the street. His eyes turned skyward in case the enemy bomber was coming back for another run, but it was nowhere to be seen. There were other aircraft streaking by, but they were at a higher altitude, heading elsewhere in the city, evidently. He thought he had heard something. Yes, he had- he could hear the roar of the aircraft, though it was more of a dull rumble. At least he had not been deafened permanently; his hearing was returning. After a few more moments he could hear the shouts of the would-be rescuers, trying to get inside the library. He looked, and could see that they were helping two ponies from the rubble. They were walking on their own hooves; a good sign. Walking wounded. They were directed across the street as Breeze had been, to get a few moments rest. A few moments would be all they would get, however. Something flashed across Breeze's vision. He blinked, unsure if he had seen or imagined it. It happened again, and again, and then one of the survivors staggering across the road stumbled and fell. He must have tripped. Breeze took a step forward to go help, but then he saw the bubbling wound on the pony's flank. Something else flashed through his eye line again, and he turned his head. No more rest. Not now. Only violence.