//------------------------------// // Underground, Undercover // Story: Off The Grid // by MajorPaleFace //------------------------------// “Fall back, get out of there!” John yelled uselessly. Two power armoured Thestrals disappeared in a flash of light and heat, as the din of combat reached a new height. Changeling beetle-served plasma projectiles streamed down from deep behind enemy lines. Lieutenant Midnight had picked John up off his ass, after getting knocked down by the Changelings new barrage. She didn’t wait for him, sparing nothing as she cut a violent path. Slicing into the bug formations that lay between them and the relative safety of the Canterlot pass. The sky was awash with hazy black shapes. They darted frantically, unrelenting as they tracked and scored dozens of pony fliers. The Equestrians were losing the air battle and that freed up enemy troops to join their brethren against those on the ground. All around him raged an intense battle. Close-quarters and brutal. The speed and voraciousness outpacing their efforts to move toward the pass. He still had ammo, and led a tight-knit group of twenty across the scorched fields. Those in the Powered suits acted as a barrier between the less armoured and therefore more vulnerable members of the VIII group. The last defending guard units had holed up at the entrance to the pass in the bowl of the valley. John caught up to Midnight, the burned fields were dusty and arid. Together they bustled into the final Equestrian lines, situated at the entrance to the only footpath to Canterlot. They paused for a quick breather. Major Chironax hobbled up, her appearance grim. Bloodstained fur and blackened grisly armour. She scowled. She did a quick head-count and her eyes drooped a bit, before she puffed out her chest and began doling out instructions for their formation. Vibrant flashes from the enemy bombardment flattened the fields, and began walking toward them. Chironax finished issuing her order of battle, “John – get our back!” He checked his weapons Fusion cell, “On it. Keep going, and don’t wait for me.” They were moving up the pass as fast as they could, the guards – John too, were all exhausted. Many hours of fast-paced fighting and many miles of marching in the hot sun was taking its toll. “Come on,” John encouraged a guard, “home time soon.” He used the sparse rocky patches as cover to watch their retreat. The bombardment continued on the city, covering the shield in flames like the foam of the tide as it washes ashore. He reached Midnight, and they watched it together. “They weren’t aiming for us, they’re trying to break the shield down,” she said. John sighted his weapon, “good thing too, I thought our goose was cooked.” He saw her turn to look at him. He couldn’t see her expression, but knew she was probably unclear on what he meant. “Watch me,” she said, and dashed away further up the hill. He heard a short whistle, and turned to run up the hill himself. It was winding around now and he was losing sight of the battlefield. It looked like small pockets of ponies were cornered and fighting it out. He paused at his next space, replacing Midnight as she ran further up again. The barrage slowed and a pulsing wind-chime sound forced him to glance at the city. Still high above him, the shield sparked and cut out. Multiple blasts snuck through unchecked and plumes of brick and stone flew into the sky following the explosions. Almost immediately the bugs set into the city. Thousands of them. His mouth was dry as he swallowed, this could be the beginning of the end for the ponies. Although effective using human technology, it might be too little too late. Unless they could rapidly amass and attack in the following days or weeks. He wasn’t sure how much more the Ponies could stand, and feared capitulation. John would fight to the death regardless. And he didn’t think Luna would cower or bow before any adversary either. Or Midnight, he thought. Several carriages departed the city at breakneck speed, some were lucky and left alone. The bugs too concentrated on the city itself. A cart accelerated above him, skirting the mountain. Bugs waiting in the shadows sprung like hornets to an intruder. The chase was over in an instant, and the cart veered down sharply. It didn’t explode or make much sound on impact. It twisted and kicked up the dirt, veneering itself in mud. John took aim and waited, he scanned left to right. Nothing. As the dust settled he could see a shape, a salmon coated pony darted frantically across the mud. Changelings acted as a pack of sharks, blocking all escape and steering the hapless pony into a trap. One large bug impacted the terror-struck fleeing equine, downing it. John increased magnification. All too quickly they had cut and stabbed the mare. He was sure, he could see her fear-filled sky-blue eyes. Pink hair the same shade as candy floss. She wrinkled visibly as they fed. Their green magic sapping her life. Her single piercing scream reached him two heart beats after her mouth opened. John could kill them, but he understood that once the feeding had begun most ponies died anyway sooner or later. He had limited ammo. What would I want? He thought. Instantly he knew and took aim. Unlike with a rifle he didn’t need to account for bullet drop at this significant distance. He aimed roughly where the collarbone of a human would be, and fired. The shot struck her chest, boring a big hole through-and-through. The bugs whipped around, glaring at him for interrupting their post-genocide meal. They scampered to hide amongst the craters. The pink mares body was slumped in a way that broadcasted her death. The magnification was a little too high-quality. He could see the tears and snot, freshly-wrinkled face still showing fear. A whistle sounded, and John turned to move again. Just another casualty of war, he told himself. But really he knew that sometime soon, there would be one too many. And at that moment, he might just lose himself. He continued watching his comrades backs, listening to the screams of terror and sounds of fierce fighting that ensued as the city was lost quarter by quarter. The main gates lay partially open, yet abandoned. Chironax had led the majority of the troops further into the urban areas, trying to assist with the evacuation. He dashed inside, and using pure strength, began shoving the doors the final two meters closed. The main area inside was a small plaza-like cut-out. Immediately flanked by rows of deserted buildings. Food lay still cooking on fire-pits, goods and wares remained on display for nary a single paying customer. Some of the guards had pinched a few servings of fruit and refilled their water bladders. Midnight awaited, prepping herself and the remaining power armoured Thestrals. “We need to move,” John spoke plainly. “Sounds like you’ve got a plan,” she said. “Matter of time before this place is under enemy occupation. We should see about getting in touch with one of the Princesses’, and suggesting we blow this place to bits.” “You’re crazy!” One of the armoured Thestrals said, John recognised his voice as the scout leader from before the battle in the valley. “Maybe,” John allowed. “If we can destroy the city, we can deny the enemy new territory, stall their advance and maybe take more than a few of them out at the same time. “ He explained. “Tactically,” he advised, “its the only thing we can do right now.” “Where can we go to contact the outside?” he asked Midnight. “The communication room, it’s in the east barricade on the far side of town near the airship dock.” “Okay, check weapons and ammo and we’ll go.” Shortly after, John and Midnight led two strips of six and were combing through winding cobblestone streets. Restaurants, clothing stores, a haberdashery. Plenty of options to shop, all of them deserted. The fighting in the city was as ferocious as ever. Overhead packs of Changelings criss-crossed above the terracotta roof tops. The Pegasi air teams looked to be on their last legs, and John spied far fewer of them than in the days previous. The artillery barrage had ground to a halt. The bugs were clearly intending to take this place intact. They’d be getting a smouldering crater if he could have anything to say about it. “Contact!” At the end of the street several large Changelings burst out of a noodle stand. Slick and agile, he identified their speed as belong to bug Commandos. He opened up with his AER and the Thestrals with him joined in. The slim street was filled with laser shards. A few flashes of return fire were cut short. “To the rear!” a Thestral yelled . Three more Commandos raced like lightening over the clay tiled rooftops and down the street on giant fly wings. John spun, keeping his form compact. He got two shots off his initial burst into the lead Commando before it slammed into him. He cartwheeled backward, his weapon seemed to slide from his grasp as if covered in motor oil. He punched squarely into the Commando on top. The small quarters of the street amplified all sounds, a sharp pony shriek went out. He wrestled. The elite bug impossibly strong. It had a thin blade in its magic and was trying to worm it past his forearm greave into his throat. John grit his teeth. He lost his grip, and the dagger darted right for his armoured neck sleeve. He had the back of his other hand against his throat, and the blade was halted an inch from his skin between his fingertips. A crunch sounded. A sabre blade jutted out from inside it’s jagged mouth. It gurgled green blood, and was hefted off with a hrrk. Two armoured Thestrals used servo-assisted strength to pry the blade from the bug and slash it’s throat. The other used a rear leg to smash it in the head and cave it’s face inward. Two other bat-ponies helped a hobbling comrade along, but the alley-like street was filled with dead Commandos. The tiles overhead crackled, he swiped his weapon off the floor and aimed up. Nothing. “Let’s go,” Midnight said quietly. And led them on. He kept his eyes on a swivel. Watching every rooftop, roof-tip, window and door jamb. They reached the end of the path, and turned left at a fork. Moving further into the city. The sounds of combat shifted and were warped by their position in the narrow corridor of road. Occasionally a band of bugs would flit overhead. John and the Thestrals would take cover and simply observe. A particularly large Commando led a pair of others within the junction ahead. John spotted them as Midnight signalled them to hide. The leader growled. Something familiar about it, but he wasn’t sure. Call me a racist, he thought, but they all look the same. Its jaws clacked shut in a finalized sound, and the trio rushed along a street away from them. They continued. Not ten minutes later and they had taken a path that Midnight assured would see them arrive inside the Theatre district. “We’re almost there,” she said. A sound from behind had them all checking backwards and above them simultaneously. “Report,” Midnight hushed. “Unknown,” the tail-end guard replied in the same harsh whisper. John scanned the windows, double checking the edges of the tiled roofs. Throughout the day he had refrained from glancing continually at his personal radar. As all the activity in the city made it impossible to know who or what was where. “Nada Lieutenant.” They waited. A low growl sounded nearby, and it had them all on edge. “Ever get the feeling your being watched?” Another guard asked rhetorically . “Fuckin’ eyes up, everywhere we go,” Midnight whispered and began leading them along. Their pace was slowed and the sounds continued. At the next set of houses the sounds abated, and he was fairly confident they were no longer being followed. The street narrowed into an alleyway, too narrow for them to move in rows, they had to form a file. John’s armoured bulk barely fit, at a few tight spots he found himself squeezing through. Being careful not to make too much noise. The front of the file met enemy fire, Midnight was somewhere near the front. John was last. After what felt like an age, he burst into a large open area. Everything was cut from white marble, intricate patterns in metal and timber ran rings around everywhere. A large building at the far end had been partially razed and still burned quite ferociously. He could make out glinting gold-armoured ponies holding off the bugs so firefighters could tackle the blaze. Several dead bugs were arrayed around the alleyway. John recognised the bugs error. Evidently so did his power-armoured companions. “Attack!” Midnight whooped as she took to the air a little heavily. Not nearly as acrobatic as without the powered suit, she nonetheless fearlessly rushed the bug positions. The area had been a small park. Miniature ankle-height sections of greenery and trees provided sparse cover from which the Changelings could fight from. John leapt over a wall, and ran straight for the thickest patch of Changelings. A mostly burned tree jutted from the sheered lawn, and John burst through it with ease. He emerged from scattered char and ash like a demon unchecked. Firing into the bugs, he quickly achieved ten kills. The straggling Thestrals rushed alongside him, dismembering many with powerful sabre swipes. As the battle wound down, multiple tens of Changelings descended from the air. Patching holes in the bug lines, whilst reinforcing the area John and the Thestrals had already cleared. Within minutes they numbered so many he couldn’t see the Royal Guards huddled at the end. “Form up on me!” John used his height as a beacon for the others to rally around. The Thestrals remained composed, working together to encircle him. They inched ever more toward the burning structure. It wasn’t easy, one of the Thestrals was ripped out of alignment. The waves of black that rocked against them almost overwhelming. John tried to reach the lost Thestral, but to no avail. It was the scout leader. Moments after, his suit erupted in a self destruct. The magical – rather than fusion-powered – explosion eliminated the majority of the bugs. John and the armoured Thestrals shields afforded them enough time to dash away unscathed. He stood firmly at a cellar entrance, as the Royal Guards, firefighters, servo-assisted Thestrals and almost two dozen badly burned civilians hustled into the shelter. John double checked he was the last to enter. A young and scared looking firefighter mare didn’t budge as he moved to block her from helping. Together they closed the doors. In the final instant an energy bolt chipped between the gap in the wood, just nicking her neck and sending her back down into the cellar. He gritted his teeth and heard another mare scream, and then frantically call out for a doctor. He used his strength to stick an iron bar through the handles. Bending it into a knot. The inside was clouded with dust, many scared ponies filled the cramped interior. John had to stoop so as to not drag his head across the brick and mortar ceiling. He skirted the body of the firefighter, what may have been her partner grieved in loud heaving sobs. He wrestled through the crowd, finding Midnight and a Royal Guard officer. “Midnight, rustle us a way out of here. You,” he addressed the other officer, “secure these civvies for transport.” Midnight delegated the exit-hunting to another Armoured Thestral. “Has the mission changed?” She asked. “No,” he said, “mission remains the same. If we can find a path out of here, these guys can try to get themselves evacuated. We’re hitting the communications room and sending a message out.” He shouted back behind him, “barricade those doors!” He moved back to help, but was stopped by a Unicorn Guard walking calmly back down the stairs. “There’s a charm on the door, they won’t be getting in anytime soon. But just in case...” He trailed off. The unicorn levitated a pair of wine casks, several old crates and some stacks of weevil-infested flour. And blockaded the entrance. “That ought to hold them.” “Good work.” John said. The Guard didn’t say anything, his ash-covered face and watering eyes were answer enough. Midnight came back through. She had an oil-lamp suspended in a wing. “It goes on for a bit, place is full of these interconnected passages. They’re part of the old city, we should be able to get into the east barricade, no problem.” “Alright. Get us there safely, Lieutenant.”