//------------------------------//
// Equestrian Venom 
// Story: Off The Grid 
// by MajorPaleFace 
//------------------------------//




Overpressure in John's ears hurt and he rushed up to sit with a grunt. His reflexes felt sluggish and his field of view was warping before his very bleary eyes. Blinking didn’t clear it, so he squashed his fingertips into his eye sockets, with a little desperation he rubbed them, blinking rapidly every few seconds. 

They were focusing now, his orange and tan bodysuit had several hoses attached to it. As he raised his forearms to trail a few leads, he ripped them all off. 

Swivelling his long legs over the med pod, he carefully tested the ground as if it might suddenly fall away from him. 

It didn’t, and with only a few popping joints John steadily rose to stand. 

He felt dulled agony in his torso, chest and a strange fogginess at the back and base of his skull. His mouth was dry and every breath felt somehow foreign as if he was learning to breathe again.

The sterile white med bay was half a circle in a roundish room, with half of it barricaded by a two-way wall of perspex. 
He remembered now, foggy but it was coming. No one was outside the bay. 

John accessed the ships life-signs systems and found a dozen readings near the bridge. Without hesitating, he burst through the second room – overriding the quarantine procedure and moved swiftly via the starboard maintenance corridor. 

The makeshift bridge doors lay firmly shut, an off room without visuals of the exterior held several lockers and benches, as well as Colonel Kodiak, her twelve Thestrals and a pair of unicorns. 

She was sat with her back to him and spun around dramatically as he entered. 
“John,” she said with a flourish of her dark mane. Her all-black fur shone under the halogen lights. 

“Colonel,” he said with finality. “Let's do what we came here to do.”

She stood, looking off to the side, “what did we come here for, John?” 

He shrugged as if it was obvious, “finish the little bastards off so I can retire somewhere hot.” 

She smiled, a rare occurrence, “you’ll have to send me a postcard.” 

They entered the bridge and he sealed them in, the guards all stood near the rear, with Kodiak and two unicorns near John in his command chair. He flexed his wrist and entered a command to initiate the population drives. 

On clouds of anti-gravity, the Anlaces blocky and uneven shape moved at around six thousand meters. The night was coming to an end, with daylight on the horizon and nary a single cloud to ruin it. 

“John, Princess Luna is in the city with General Orchard, ” Kodiak said to John, with a gem pressed against one ear.

“Her sisters in Baltimare with some of the evacuated court staff.” She added quietly after leaning away from a second gem. 
Both Unicorns magic bloomed in red and teal respectively. 

“Commander?” Luna’s distinctively Victorian-era voice sounded out under a fizzling sound.

“Princess Luna,” John replied enthusiastically, “how are things?” 

“’Things’ as you say are somewhat at a stalemate. We have ensured for the most part the complete eviction of the enemy from the city proper. Unfortunately, we estimate another two divisions worth approaching from the east, and another from the west, stragglers of two other engagements. After they were thrown from the city walls, our commanders in the field reported the enemy turned and fled toward Canterlot.”

A wave of static filtered through before she finished, “Colonel Kodiak has appraised me of your whereabouts. Are we to believe you can deliver on your promise of ‘death from above?’”

John grasped the red-tinted gem and held it near his face, “that’s affirmative. We can coordinate with you on the ground and wipe them out, over.” 

There was silence, John and Kodiak glanced at each other as they tried to anticipate what she might say. 

“Can you guarantee no-pony will be hurt in the crossfire?” Celestia's regal voice emerged from the other gem. 

John took it in his other hand, “uh – say again, Princess – what ponies?” 

“We have confirmed reports," he heard papers being shuffled, “yes – confirmed reports of civilians being captured by both groups in large numbers. Several hundred per group. Can you ensure they go unharmed?” 

He couldn’t, of course. He planned on using a pair of Jupiter cruise missile to wipe out both groups. Followed by a low pass and sweep using the robots. 

“That’s a negative, Princess. This isn’t so much a precision operation as it is hitting a beehive with a hammer.”

He thought for a minute, the post-operation gears moving much more slowly than usual. 

“If you can get me good eyes on the civilians, I can try to mitigate loses by hitting the bugs away from the captives. Then I’ll move in and try to save as many as possible.”

Princes Luna spoke first, “We think this a viable strategy, sister?” 

They all waited with bated breath for the solar rulers' word. A long and heavy sigh fed through the magical emitter, “very well, Commander. Luna, would you liaise with the Commander and assist on his ‘hammer operation?’”

More static, “at once. Wish us luck. We shall embark with your vessel soon, Commander.”

The lines went dead. 

The pair of cut jewels dimmed to looking like coloured glass, he gave them back to Kodiak. 

“Alright everyone, battle stations.” He depressed a button and a klaxon sounded, all the Guards ears rotated and flattened at the awful wailing sound. Before it ceased. 

He brought up topographic data of the Canterlot Valley and the winding chasm that swayed southeast toward the coast. 
He had been previously using the single NAV beacon in low orbit to triangulate enemy positions without success. Mostly due to their small size, yet now two very large clusters of lifeforms were prominently visible on the screens. 

Kodiak stepped next to him on the raised platform his command chair was situated on. 

“That’s a lotta bugs,” she said, before smiling creepily. “Tell me we’re about to make them disappear.”

John began to triangulate the ship's sensors, the NAV in orbit bounced a signal off of his ship, and down toward the ground targets. 

An interrupted bleating siren emerged before a continuous tone began to sound. 
“They’re being tracked,” he explained. “Once Luna lets us know where the civvies are we can hit them. And trust me – they’ll get a very nasty surprise.” 

As if summoned from the depths, a bright flash that could blind a man already without vision stunned Johns fragile senses. He felt wobbly, yet the support of his chair prevented him from face-planting the deck.

He rubbed a tear from his eye, “Luna. Some damn warning in future.” 

John faced a complement of twenty power armoured Thestrals. Luna wore her own blue-hued suit, her taller frame standing out. 

“Commander, Colonel, ”she greeted each in turn. 

Midnight made herself known, the M still scratched into her forehead meant that John spied her right away, “John, Auntie.”

“We have a mare in the air,” Luna paused at the rhyme, “flying over the eastern group.”

Over another communications gem, Luna spoke with an unidentified mare – the ghostly voice helped him track down which area to hit and still avoid total pony losses. 

He had neglected before to tell Princess Celestia that she would lose more people in direct combat than if he just blew both groups to bits. He sensed she was a mare teetering on a breakdown, and he didn’t fancy being the one to send her over the edge.

The bridge holo display had filled with a grainy 3d black-and-white layout of the smaller Changeling group. They were mostly on the ground, with a thousand or so as an aerial escort. 

Most of the Equestrians were distinct looking, John instructed the ships' computer to clearly identify them. With blue colouring the grey of the ponies and red over the Changelings.

There were scattered Ponies throughout the column, every so often a few of the blue forms would lag behind. Laying still on the ground, the computer removed the colour – identifying them as killed.

“Okay, Luna – tell your mare to get out of there. I’m going loud.” John keyed in a few commands. 

There wasn’t any other sound beyond the dull hum of the reactor and engine cells, but a rocket did shoot overhead before arcing downward sharply. 

The ponies moved forward to the floor-to-ceiling view-screen, watching it descend with great interest. 

While it fell, John prepped the Hangar bay. The Sentry bots and Assaultrons started to fill the bay. And he started to lower the ship. The gravity manipulation meant that no sensation of the high rate of descent could be felt, outside the screen the world blurred as they dropped like a stone. 

“Okay Princess, you’re leading the ground game.”

She had deactivated the gem and stood ready. “Colonel I will teleport all of us, minus John, into battle. Stallions, Mares, prepare to defend yourselves.” Her order was heralded by the checking of AERs and the quick practice-drawing of sabres. 

Two dozen Mechanized Thestrals, a dozen standard plus Kodiak and two Unicorns vanished in a matching flash as when Luna had first arrived on the bridge not ten minutes before. 

The Anlace was a scant four hundred meters above the surface now, having plummeted at record speed. 

The missile detonated fairly accurately at the front of the formation, erupting into a huge dust shower and shockwave that covered everything in dirt. 

The rumble could be felt through the deck, as formations of Thestrals whisked through the cloud leaving contrails. 
Prismatic flashes in greens and reds illuminated the fast clearing dust blanket. John trailed the ship through, monitoring it’s altimeter and airspeed as he gradually lowered the vessel.

He depressed a button and checked on-board systems for the hundredth time as the landing feet extended. 

The downward force from the thrusters and anti-grav system acted as a wind to banish the dust cloud and reveal a blanket of downed black bodies. At the far end of the valley floor, he could see Luna Clashing with the surviving bug troops. Violently wresting control of their pony cargo. 

With a quick and nimble burst of speed, the ship hopped the distance to touchdown almost on top of the engagement. 

The cargo bay floor lowered, as viewed through the grainy security camera feed, and four sentry bots and twelve bipedal Assaultrons rushed from the bay and shot toward the fighting at high speed. 
The lead Assaultron had been fitted with a camera and he watched as the unit activated it’s stealth subsystem and rushed the right-hand flank of the enemy. 

Changelings and Thestrals alike scattered as hulking sentry bots barged into the fray. Swinging thousand-kilogram arms around and clubbing Changelings to death with ease. 

Once the lines cleared up and it was one side vs the other, rocket barrages flayed the back-peddling bugs, decimating them. 
The camera feed of the stealthed Assaultron showed it use it’s arm blades to cleave into Changelings left and right. 

Within a minute it was done, the fully exposed shapeshifters caught totally unprepared for the attack. 

Twenty minutes later and John was at the helm, having the ship climb to a good cruising height. 

After Luna and her crew had boarded, Midnight had found John during his pre-flight check. 

“How’s the fit back there?” John asked, regarding the civvies squashed into the storage hold. 

“Well, it’s dark and cramped, and noisy. But better than being fed on.” Midnight replied earnestly.

Soon after the ship had drifted to four thousand feet and was steadily approaching the second larger group of Changelings and their captives.

“Tell Luna to hold off for now, after the missile hits I’m bringing her round to strafe them with the rail gun.”
He glanced at her as she turned, “you can pull the trigger if you like.” 

She turned her head, “I’d like that.” Then she was gone. 

He concentrated on roping the ship around on a steady descent, as the Anlace dropped through two thousand meters he skirted it around toward the right edge of the group. 

He brought up the command for the rail gun after the second Jupiter launched without issue. It streaked downward after rattling the viewscreen. 

Midnight barreled through the bridge door, he noted she had abandoned her power armour somewhere on the ship. Her tabby long-haired coat was compressed and silky looking.

He pointed out a secondary seat, and she took it. It was functionally identical to his, albeit with an added control stick that was slaved to the railgun. She sat and buckled the chairs harness. 

The missile cracked and he looped the front of the ship around to face the main bulk of the surviving Changelings. The terrain was less arid and so the detonation didn’t stir up as much debris. 
“Where’d you leave the suit?” He pondered aloud. 

A crash sounded from his pip-boy which he had linked to the hangar cameras. Following Luna and her Thestral sorties, he saw an upright and open quadrupedal powered suit vanish through the open bay doors. 

He could only shake his head as midnight cackled with the firing of the rail gun, 4mm tungsten pellets accelerated to 3,500 meters a second.

They sprayed across the earth and chewed into the opening ranks of bug formations. 

“Careful of the civilians. Fire in shorter bursts,” he advised and she did as instructed. 

The Anlace dropped to a dozen meters, his bots jumped ship at his command as Midnight continued to rake high-velocity high-density slugs across the more tightly grouped buggers. 

From under the ship using the landing struts as cover, Luna dashed into the Changeling line – leading a charge of Power Armoured Thestrals. They slashed with sabres and fired red lasers. The Changelings answered back, still so numerous despite the large crater belching black smoke amongst them.

The Changelings rallied into well-defined waves, relentless as always. The two unicorns sprung from the top of the ship, had they been up there this whole fucking time? 

Their magic shielded and banded up the sparse surviving civilians into bubbles, and then were dragged back under the ship and to relative safety. 

Midnight whooped as she more or less had a free reign of fire. Casting big belts of fast moving pellets across the breadth of the bug counter attack. 

Missile blasts, cannon fire and laser beams broke up the far right flank as the automatons rolled up the rear of the enemy. 

The railgun whirred to an end, the ten thousand pellets having been loosed without restraint. 

Small groups and individual Changelings pressed the last withering charge. They were felled one-by-one until none remained.

Slowly, Thestrals in black plate and those in Power Armour emerged underneath the Anlace. Warily they swept across the fields of dead and dismembered. 

Midnight breathed a satisfied sigh and sat back heavily. “Well, that was a hoot.” 
John agreed, “yeah. A real turkey shoot.”
She moved to look directly at him, “we could have been doing this right from the beginning.”

John nodded. “It is easy to know the right thing to do after something has happened. But It’s hard to predict the future.” 

She faced the viewscreen, and for a while, neither said anything as Luna stood motionless overlooking the field of black dead. Occasionally a glimpse of colour marked the death of an Equestrian. Her head hung finally, and John believed she may have been weeping. 

“What happens now?” Midnight asked. 
“I've got a final mission in mind if you want to help.” 

She spun to look up at him, “of course.” 

He got up and exited the bridge, Midnight followed after. They moved down the main access, through an ancillary hatch into an adjacent hallway and down into the bowels of the ship. 

Finally, outside a tri-opening door, it slowly lifted under the sound of hydraulic power. A LED light shone brightly, and the pyramidal warhead contained within radiated menace. The angled base, to the copper-coloured cone.

“Lieutenant Midnight, this is a fifteen kiloton warhead. It’s the back-up self destruct and one helluva firecracker.” 

“So what’s the plan?” She asked, squinting at the warhead.

“Shove it up the bugs asses, blow the little bastards to hell.” 

Her mouth pressed into a thin line and the corners turned down in an expression of cool acceptance. 

“Interesting plan.” 





Twelve days later.

The gem crackled. “Commander Maxon, ” Luna's sultry voice came through patchily.
“This is Maxon, it’s done. We're returning to base.”

The clean up of the Canterlot region would still take many months. Millions were displaced with an estimated half a million wounded, and another half missing, dead or presumed dead. 

The Changelings had paid in triplicate. Ten million estimated dead, yet less than a hundred captured alive. 

Twilight Sparkle had emerged after a week trapped in hidden caves beneath Canterlot. She and two guards apparently surviving on some kind of seafood whilst dodging a giant spider, the whole thing sounded like a bad trip to John.

Celestia was in the East reluctantly overseeing the rearmament of the Equestrian military. Power Armour, laser weapons, John had even been working with an Equestrian engineer on a type of motorized armoured personnel carrier.

After the clean up she had taken a strong stance on Equestrian peace and goodwill, adamant that their new military might would never be used to wage a war, and only act in a self-defence capacity.

This would ensure nothing like this could happen again, Celestia had said defiantly in a victory speech.

Princess Luna continued to oversee the reconstruction and rehabilitation efforts around Canterlot city. She would remain a beacon for pony-kind to rally around for hundreds of years.

Colonel Kodiak was passed up for promotion but declined. In an official press statement, she had noted she had experienced enough war and wanted to work toward a harmonious and positive future. 

Starfire, Dark Goldenrod, Moonshot, Starchaser and Frosted Whip had all survived the conflict and remained good friends. Year's after the conflict had passed, Dark Goldenrod had been one of the last veterans of the conflict, passing peacefully at age 108.


“What now?” Midnight asked. 

John shrugged. The view was spectacular. The viewscreen was polarized so as not to blind them, the fifteen kiloton warhead had been escorted by the full complement of the Anlaces combat robots.

Mounted on the back of a stripped-down sentry-bot, after half an hour of silence, the explosion had ruptured the mountain range over the abandoned township of Blackwater.

John and Midnight stood together alone aboard the bridge, watching the fluctuating mushroom cloud as it rose like a Phoenix above the shattered summit. 
The shockwave visibly struck the ship, but passed unfelt as he had dialed up the gyroscope. 

John breathed heavily, “retirement. A condo on the beach, palm trees, mojitos.”
He elbowed her below the ear, “go halves on a timeshare?” He grinned after she looked at him with visible confusement.

“Just don’t wear any Hoofwaiian shirts, ” she offered in compromise. 

He nodded. "Deal." He sat in the command chair and began leading the ship around and away from the destruction. 

John had been so fixated on the next fight that he hadn't thought seriously about what to do with himself if it ever ended. But as they drifted silently under pinked skies tinged with orange and sepia, and toward white sandy beaches, he felt hope for the days to come, in place of dread which for all of his life until that moment, had been the only true feeling he had ever known.







THE END