//------------------------------//
// Besieged 
// Story: Strange Bedfellows 
// by BRBrony9 
//------------------------------//

Twilight's questions would once again have to be put on hold, to stew and fester in her mind. There were more important things to be thinking about right now, both for the Princess and for herself. The enemy were coming for them yet again.

At Celestia's direction, Twilight had once more retreated to the catacombs, to assist and calm the rest of the civilians, much to her evident discomfort. She had done as commanded, however, not wanting to let her mentor down, yet suffering much anguish over the decision to relegate her to the sidelines yet again. Celestia had been unable to retrieve the Element of Magic from Chrysalis, and now she was dead, and presumably, the Element was gone for good.

Canterlot, at least, was no longer as defenceless as it had become after the last enemy attack. Imperial reinforcements, requested by Celestia over the vox net, had arrived in the city, several companies of infantry and armoured vehicles, mostly troop carriers but with some tanks mixed in, reaching Canterlot in the late afternoon. Not long after that, dropships and shuttles brought in significant numbers of other troops to bolster the defences. This second wave came at the behest of General Jahn. With the Imperial fleet back in orbit, he and Lord-Admiral Marcos had been able to once again communicate with their ground forces, and order Commissar Birbeck to work with and support the pony forces to defend the city, despite his reluctance to help Xenos forces. Begrudgingly, Birbeck had conceded that there was a value to continuing pony assistance in their campaign to defeat the Archenemy, notably the support of the Princess, and had agreed to commit more men to defending the capital. 

Infantry had been deployed to support the Royal Guard along the perimeter walls, setting up heavy weapons to support the pony rifles and field guns. The armoured vehicles of the Imperial Guard were positioned at openings in the curtain wall; at the main gate, and at several points where holes had been blasted in the thick stone structure. Sandbagged berms had been rapidly constructed for protection. More Imperial troops had been positioned around the palace and other key points. Some had been part of the initial operation to recapture Canterlot, some weeks previous. They knew the city, at least broadly, and that was why they had been chosen.

In addition to the Imperial forces, pony troops had arrived from Vanhoover and Las Pegasus via transport airship transfer. Several thousand fresh Guardsponies and Army infantry had been delivered to the city, to defend their capital against Chaos aggression. They, too, had been inserted into the perimeter defences, as well as shoring up weak spots throughout the city and protecting the palace. The city was in much better fighting shape than it had been the last time the enemy struck at it, with far more firepower and more bodies to be thrown into the line if needed. That did not, however, mean that it was safe from attack.

The Imperial forces, theoretically, should have kept any land attack out of the vicinity of Canterlot. They occupied a line to the south of the city, which was between Canterlot and Fillydelphia, which was where the bulk of the surviving Chaos troops were located. That line was meant to stretch the full width of the valley, from one rocky, mountainous side to the other, an unbroken chain of defence. Yet somehow, the enemy had slipped past them, and were now on their way to the capital once more. Birbeck had no answers, or at least none he was willing to admit to. Perhaps the Imperial Guard had been caught napping, or perhaps they were not actually holding a full defensive line like they were supposed to be.

At the time of the initial detection of the first movements among the Chaos troops, the Imperial fleet had not been in orbit, still kept at bay by the Chaos vessels. Under the protection of their own ships, such a move made great tactical sense; obstacles in their path could be bombarded from above, clearing out stubborn Imperial positions and carving a way through to Canterlot. It would also shield them from Imperial assets trying to do the same thing. Now, however, the opposite was true. The remnants of the Imperial fleet were now back in orbit and in possession of the high ground, and while their ranks had been thinned, the Indefatigable at least was still in a position to provide some support from orbit if needed. The Chaos forces, however, were getting too close to Canterlot for indiscriminate fire. Not only had they bypassed the Imperial line, they had made almost impossible progress toward the city.

The pony airships above the city quickly relayed reports down to their Princess; they had visual contact on both air and ground forces, closing rapidly. Their shields sprang up as they turned they broadsides toward the incoming hostile aircraft, ready to engage. The city shield burst into life a moment later, this time with Luna providing the power for it, in the hope that her magic might make the difference between allowing the enemy through and keeping them well and truly at bay. Ponies and Imperial infantry on the walls crouched down, rifles and lasguns aimed over the parapets. Anti-air guns and Hydra mobile AA vehicles raised their barrels to the sky in anticipation of a plethora of targets that might be in their sights at any moment. Field guns and tank cannons took aim at the approach road up the mountainside, waiting for the first enemy vehicle to come into view.

As they waited, a strange sense of unease came across many of the defenders. A malaise, creeping into their minds, scratching at their brains, telling them that something was wrong. And something was indeed wrong.

The sky darkened noticeably, and the city shield shivered and shimmered as though someone had cast a stone into a pond. Then, just like before, a hole opened up in the shield, but not only did a gash appear in the protective dome, but one also appeared in reality itself.

Just above the city, inside the shield, a horrific purple and red tear was opening up in the air, the fabric of the material plane being ripped open from the other side. Through it came a mass of small Daemons, winged and disc-like entities. There was a bright flash of light, and something else appeared; a terrible creature, unknown to most of the ponies and the human soldiers, but recognised at once by Princess Celestia.

Malaranth the Infinite manifested itself above the city, surveying Canterlot from on high, in pursuit of its latest conquest. Fillydelphia had been taken by Chaos, and now its sights were firmly set on the capital. Hostile aircraft swept through the hole in the shield, while on the road outside the city, ground forces now advanced toward another hole which had been opened around the main gate area.

In a moment, pony plans for defence had been thrown completely out of order. There were enemies inside the shield, and more enemies coming in from the outside. Troops had to be repositioned to meet the new threat, and enemy troops would likely soon be landing from dropships as well. That was something which had been planned for and expected, and there were pony and Imperial troops stationed throughout the city, not just at the curtain wall. They would soon find themselves coming under attack.

Celestia had feared that the Daemon would not be content to sit in Fillydelphia forever, given that it seemed to have an agenda to pursue. She had expected that, if it was not destroyed, it would come, and now it had. With the enemy, through the Daemon or the Sorcerer Lord's powers, had broken through the shield, even though it was Luna's this time and not Cadence's. She ordered her sister to drop the shield, as it made no difference any longer. Luna would be needed on the frontline this time, and so would Cadence. This was no exploratory attack, no reconnaissance in force like the last attack ultimately seemed to be. This was the commitment of the bulk of the remaining Chaos forces on the planet. They were set for an endgame here. Their ships were gone, their fleet annihilated. They had lost control of every city they had captured other than Fillydelphia, and the Imperial fleet was back in orbit and able to threaten or destroy them from above. They had nothing else to lose. 

And so they came, the city shield dropping as Luna ended her spell and prepared to fight alongside her sister once more. Gunfire began to ring out across the city as the roar of jets overhead drowned out almost all other sound. Enemy fighters and bombers were streaking past, being engaged by the trio of airships and the ground-based guns. The Hydra batteries of the Imperial Guard poured deadly torrents of fire skyward, bringing down several of the slower, lumbering ground attack aircraft. The more agile fighters drew some fire, but were able to avoid the streams of bullets and shells. The torrent of smaller Daemons also attracted gunfire, killing some of the foul creatures as they burst into puffs of warp matter and ichor.

There was no panic among the defenders, at least not in the way the forces of Chaos might have wished. They had already fought off one attack, albeit without Daemons. The presence of the creatures of the Immaterium terrified many hardened Guardsmen and caused much confusion among the ponies, but they did not panic outright. The ponies knew that their Princesses were near; Celestia would protect them, as she always did. The humans knew that their ships were in orbit, ready to provide support, with large numbers of fresh Guardsmen ready for deployment as reinforcements if needed. Many of them also, perhaps, had some small amount of faith, however heretical it may be, in Celestia. Those that had seen her fight before, in Manehattan, Fillydelphia or elsewhere, knew her power, ably demonstrated every time she took to the field of battle. Unlike human psykers, she also seemed to be immune to the powers of the warp and the denizens who dwelled within it, a further boost to her profile in their eyes.

The heavy guns of the EAS Luna roared into action, sending an arcing broadside of shells into the Daemon, Malaranth. They detonated against its flesh, but had no visible effect. The lesser Daemons swarmed and swirled through the streets, seeking targets for their violence. There were no civilians on the surface, however, and what they did find was ponies and men alike with loaded weapons. Combat erupted all across the city as Daemon clashed with defender, warp energy and bullets criss-crossing the streets, smashing windows and gouging holes in the wood and stone of the buildings. The city had already taken heavy damage in previous attacks, and this latest assault threatened to inflict even more. Equestrian history was being written, but was also being destroyed, and ancient buildings and preserved monuments took hits from bombs that rained down from enemy aircraft. The pony airships could only attack so many targets at once, and the Hydra batteries had their firing arcs limited by the spires and rooftops of Canterlot.

Outside the main gate, the first Chaos thrust was blunted by accurate cannon fire from a quartet of Leman Russ tanks, located in flanking positions alongside the roadway and the damaged outer wall. Half a dozen Chaos tanks were knocked out, slewing to a stop on the steep track that led up to the gate. Several infantry carriers were destroyed as well, and pony field guns were able to engage the dismounted soldiers, their high explosive shells causing numerous casualties as men scrambled for what limited cover was available, only finding safety behind the wrecks of their destroyed vehicles and an occasional boulder. Desultory las-fire spat at the city wall in response, while the surviving Chaos tanks opened up with their cannons, but they had too many targets to hit at once. There were the Leman Russ tanks, pony field guns, human missile and lascannon teams atop the wall. Two more tanks were knocked out, threatening to clog up the roadway entirely and preclude any more attempts to assault the city by land. 

With the land assault already bogging down rapidly, two Chaos ground attack jets swung around to assist. They flew through the confusing storm of bullets, las-fire and magic, looping around across the valley before turning back in toward the main gate. The air defence battery on the city wall gave an alarm and brought their guns to bear, the rapid fire pony guns chattering away, throwing up strings of black puffs as shells burst around the incoming aircraft. Rockets left their underwing pods, and men and ponies dived for cover, shrapnel raining down on them as chunks of masonry and stone tumbled from the great structure. The aircraft roared overhead and out across the city, making a sharp left turn around the palace towers, where more fire stabbed out at them. Another circle brought them back round on an attack run, and the anti-air guns fired once more, striking one aircraft as it was about to release its payload of bombs. The shells cut through the cockpit armour and ripped the pilot to pieces, smashing the controls and igniting a fire inside. The second jet dropped its bombs, which detonated outside the wall, pounding one of the Leman Russ tanks and killing its crew with the concussion from the blasts. That jet raced by overhead, afterburners flaring as it carried itself clear of the city.

The other jet, however, had nobody at the controls. The pilot was dead, and its last trajectory before he died had put it on course straight for the wall, which had been its target. There were shouts of alarm and dismay from the defenders, who tried to scatter, to flee the inevitable. Those farther down the line and not in the danger zone could only watch in anguish and horror. Men flung themselves to the side and Pegasi flapped desperately into the air to escape. The screaming of the twin engines reached fever pitch the moment before the jet slammed into the thick curtain wall. Its unspent bombs detonated, as did its fuel tanks, and a great blast shook the southern side of the city. Smoke and flame rose high into the air, mushrooming up from the crash site. Men rushed into the carnage, pulling their fellows to safety, while some of the Pegasi used their powerful wing beats to clear the smoke away, pushing it out across the approach road so that, as well as improving their visibility for rescue operations, it also obscured the vision of the approaching enemy. There were shouts for medics, for more guns to the wall, for the engineers to check the stability of the structure. 

The wall itself was ancient and had withstood much over the years, from historical siege artillery hurling heavy boulders up to modern field guns and their explosive shells. The sheer kinetic energy of the aircraft and its exploding bombs, however, was too much for the section which had been directly struck, and a portion of the wall some thirty feet across had simply slumped down and collapsed outward, spilling stone and cement out onto the road beyond the gate. It was not a catastrophic breach, but it did offer an easy access route for any enemy units that could make it up the mountain. There were bodies, too, some crushed beneath tons of rubble, others resting broken and twisted atop the collapsed section. Some were still on the wall, badly mangled by blast or scorched by flame. Rivulets of burning aviation fuel trickled across the stone-flagged walltop. Buckets of sand were poured over it where possible, such equipment being provided every few dozen feet along the wall in case of fire, though they had seen very rare use given that most of the wall was of masonry construction.

With the wounded being pulled clear, action had to turn once again to defence. The tanks outside of the wall were still firing, and the enemy was still advancing. The fight for the gate was far from over, and the fight for the city was just beginning.




Princess Celestia knew that she, and the Imperials, had been taken by surprise. Another attack had been expected, yes, but not so soon, and not using both ground and air forces, not without proper warning. The Imperial defence line to the south was meant to have stopped just such a thing from happening, to halt the enemy or at the very least delay them and send warning to friendly positions farther north, including Canterlot. The return of the Imperial fleet to orbit was supposed to have precluded such attacks altogether, yet here the enemy were, and not just attacking from without, but from within also. Daemonic manifestation evidently held no respect for the sacrosanct ground of Canterlot, the home of the Princesses. The creatures seemed able to appear wherever they wished, perhaps summoned by Malaranth, their evident superior, or by Parthax. The cause did not matter, only the effect, and the effect was that the capital, her capital, was in danger once more.

With her sister by her side, Celestia took to the air, leaving the palace and rising above the rooftops of Canterlot. It was madness, a sea of violence and noise. There were jets overhead, airship cannons roaring, strings of tracer rounds rising from the city streets, blasts of stray magic racing away into the sky, the thud of explosions and the staccato chatter of rapid-fire guns. Canterlot was historically no stranger to violence, despite its secluded location, but until the invasion, this kind of warfare had been confined to elsewhere in Equestria. This was death on an industrial scale that the capital had been spared until a few months ago. The city might never be its old self again; the damage was extensive, and would no doubt get worse before this latest fight was over. Many of its citizens were dead and gone, and they could never be replaced. No memorial or monument would ever be sufficient to express the magnitude of suffering which had been unleashed upon the land by this terrible foe. No statue in the palace gardens could immortalise the thousands upon thousands of honoured dead, those ponies who laid down their lives for their land and for their Princess.

That was why they had to be avenged, instead. These invaders had to be defeated once and for all, driven from Equestria, from this planet, and from this plane of existence, back to whatever other dimension they called home. The Warp, in Imperial parlance, or the Empyrean, or the Immaterium. The humans had many names for it, but what it should truthfully be named was Tartarus, a holding area and prison for all of the worst scum of the universe, for abominations most foul who lusted for nothing but blood and power and death. Creatures that made mad King Sombra and his rule of slavery seem tame in comparison. Even Chrysalis had goals of progress and success for her race, and while she may have used every underhand trick in the book to try and achieve them, she did not conduct her wars in the same base, carnal way as these Daemons and their lackeys. It was death they sought, and here in Canterlot, it was death they would find.

Celestia and Luna rose higher. There were many targets for them to deal with. Aircraft, infantry, dropships, tanks, Daemons. But the primary concern had to be Malaranth, floating above the city as if it was waiting for the Princesses to join it. Its power made it the greatest threat to the city, with the possible exception of Parthax the Infidel, whose personal strength and abilities were still not fully known, even by Celestia, who had engaged in combat with him. Parthax, however, was not floating above the city like a beacon. Malaranth was.

'Greetings once more, Princess Celestia,' Malaranth addressed her in its smooth, silken voice that completely belied its huge size and intimidating appearance. 'It is a pleasure to see you again. And to you as well, Princess Luna. Two royal sisters of such immense power...my, my. I can taste it, you know. Your power, your...magic, you call it? Yes. Two beings such as yourselves are most intriguing.'

'Intriguing? You treat us like a scientific experiment,' Celestia answered. 

'Well, perhaps that is the case.' Malaranth chuckled. 'You are certainly deserving of study. Quite the anomaly. Beings of such power as yourselves must have a presence in the warp, and yet you do not. That is most puzzling, not just for myself, but the Imperials also. Why do you think they showed such interest in this planet?'

'It does not matter why they came here,' Luna responded. 'Nor does it matter why you are here. What matters is what you have done. There can be no future for you here except for your death. That is the only reward for such brutality.'

'Princess, I'm hurt,' Malaranth replied. 'I have done nothing to your city; not yet. I have only just arrived here myself. What happened to your city before today was not my doing.'

'Perhaps not, but it happened because of your followers,' Celestia pointed out. 'They sought to summon you and your kind to come to their aid, no?'

'Indeed so, Princess. But regardless, I am not here to fight,' Malaranth spoke once more. 'I am here to make you an offer. We, that is, my god, the Changer of Ways, desires the knowledge of how exactly you and your powers work. You see, human psykers who possess similar powers to yourselves are vulnerable to the warp, for they leave a psychic imprint upon it, as do almost all living creatures. You and your kind are among the few exceptions. We desire to learn how that is possible. That is exactly what the Imperials want to know, as well, for they believe they can use it to their advantage, to retro-engineer some way of adapting your abilities to insulate their own kind against Chaos. They want to use you as lab rats. To dissect you, to cut you open and rummage inside you until they find what they are looking for, until they find their answers. They will kill you for your secrets, Princess. Both of you. Have no doubt of that. That is what they do, for it is only through such desperate acts that the Imperium survives against the rest of the universe.'

'And what exactly do you want to do with us?' Luna asked angrily. 'We have seen what you have done to our world. We have heard from the Imperials what you have done elsewhere. Are you truly asking us to believe that you would not do the same, or worse, to us, if we gave you the chance?'

'Yes, Princess, for we would not condemn you to death on some cold metal slab in a laboratory,' Malaranth answered. 'We do not make you this offer to deceive you. We do not make this offer so that we can dissect you. We make you this offer so that you may fight alongside us, to join our ranks and truly prosper. Why condemn yourselves to ruling over a single kingdom? You could control entire sectors of space. My lord can grant you further powers, enhance your already prodigious strengths. You could truly become the gods you were born to be.' 

Celestia and Luna exchanged a single glance. A meaningful glance, between two sisters who, despite, or perhaps because of, what they had gone through together down the centuries, loved each other deeply, more than anything else in the universe, more than their power, more than their titles, more, even, than their citizens. Together, they turned back to face Malaranth. Together, they lowered their horns. And together, they fired.