Wind From The Ocean leaned heavily against her shock cradle and sighed. The half-eaten rabbit carcass lay at her side under its mesh cover, a slight distraction from the drama unfolding on the big screens. She looked mournfully at her XO, Claws In The Night, who was busy reviewing their various response packages, then out over the rest of the command pod.
Sunk deep within one of the mountains within the Dragonsback range, the small size of Goldenwing's 'Maul' base command room belied the amount of power its occupants had at their claws. It was circular, with every surface covered with screens showing every aspect of the surroundings, from multi-spectral camera views of the surrounding valley network, to top-down schematics of the whole globe. These last were pocked with glowing icons in a number of colours; red for Equestrian, green for Goldenwing and blue for their allies.
One of the views, a monochrome synthetic aperture radar plot of coastal Razorclaw, held her attention. The shape of the aircarrier twisted and fuzzed periodically, but the actual radar emitter was on a different projectile, so the electronic countermeasures were only partially effective. There was also the fact that the ship kept transmitting. "Are they still broadcasting that propaganda?" she asked, tapping one talon tip against the edge of her console.
In response, Claws tapped a few controls, opening a link to the radio receivers.
"...iscord is responsible for the coup in Razorclaw and the chaos in Equestria. We ask that you show restraint in any military response--"
The voice died at another tap. "Same message, on a constant loop, same package of 'evidence' with each cycle." He paused, glancing at the other four members of the mass driver's control staff, then leaned closer. "It's an interesting ploy for a commander actually engaged in an attack. Do you think there's anything to it?" he murmured.
Wind hunkered down. "Does it really matter? Our allies are under attack, and another task force is heading this way."
"I suppose... but when have you known the ponies to fall apart like this? And those Princesses of theirs -- supposed to be inseparable."
"Huh. Now, maybe... but one of them went mad-- When was it? --a couple of centuries ago? Perhaps it's all to do with that." But there are those briefings about Discord, and if it's only a few years before he's due to escape...
Claw made a dissatisfied noise. "Unless they were wrong about when Discord is due to get out. It wouldn't do for the Lord of Chaos to be predictable -- if we can believe anything that the ponies have told us about his past."
"There are a lot of eye-witness accounts in the restricted archives... it's hard to imagine all our ancestors -- and those of the zebra -- deciding to simultaneously play a joke on the future."
"As you say; it doesn't really make much difference." Claw sighed, running one set of talons through his head feathers. "The ponies are here now, and that is what matters. Looks like the last drone is going out of range," he said, pointing at one of the displays.
"Launch the next flight; we'll need the coverage. I wish their commander hadn't been quite so efficient with his ASAT operation. It's going to be years before the lower orbital tracks are clear." Millions of bits in hardware trashed, then clouds of shrapnel inserted onto counter orbits and sanding out everything over the horizon as well. Bastard. "I want to get a better view of the Princesses. Looks like Razorclaw will be able to cope with the existing task force on their own."
The vibration isolation of the command pod was excellent and the only indication of anything happening was the external camera view. The spherical turret, thousands of tonnes of armour ceramic and concrete that occupied the very peak of the mountain, abruptly spun, extruding the squat barrel of the mass driver from its protective cover. Shockwaves flicked out from the muzzle, the only visible signature of the invisibly fast projectile as it sped off at hypersonic speeds. A moment later there was a subdued rumble, like that of a distant lightning strike.
"Package looks good; separation in three, two, one-- telemetry is up," the tech at Space Operations announced, updating the main screen. Intense flashes of light marred the Equestrian landmass, nuclear explosion bright, while points of brilliance arched out from a fast-moving object, far too small to resolve at this distance, and darted after another light, this one a deep violet.
"Looks like they are still going at it... spectral signature matches that from the Changeling suppression."
There was awe in Claws' voice, and Wind could understand why. "I'm guessing you were still at the academy when they hit the Queen?" He nodded, unable to take his eyes off the big display. "A tragedy, really, but it showed us what the Princesses were capable of, both physically and mentally. It takes a certain coldness to be able to kill your own kind, even at that level of threat..." Pretty much an entire subspecies exterminated; even if the Changelings had done most of the actual killing, the Princesses had finished the job. "I had a chance to visit the Crystal Empire a few years before it happened, on an exchange program," she said, half to herself. Nothing there now, just rubble and glass.
They watched in silence for a few minutes, the computer compensating for the changing angles from the string of surveillance drones arcing over the ocean at just below orbital altitude. On the screen, the two 'Princess' markers jumped abruptly to a new location, then there was another flash, brighter than the rest. When the view came back, both were in the same location. That doesn't look good for one of them... if Celestia is rid of her sister, there's nothing to stop her from coming here.
Both markers jumped again, and Wind felt a sudden pang of relief, which immediately turned to dread. Tartarus, no! Don't do that, I beg-- The Princesses jumped again, straight to the coastal waters of Razorclaw. "Rut it all; that's torn it," she said, looking up at Claws. More indicators flared, these ones tracking projectiles fired from Mallet base, another hundred kilometres to the south. "Dammit, I knew the Zebra wouldn't come through when we needed it..." Can it work with just nukes? Wind hunkered down and held her breath, only to release it explosively when the weapons disintegrated at altitude. "You are leaving us no choice," she whispered, feeling cold. Please don't make me do this!
The sun came up, at the wrong time and with unnatural speed, dropping cameras from monochrome light amplification and back to full colour. Something was wrong with the overhead view; clouds were evaporating like snow before a welding torch, but there was a spreading zone of darkness, as if the light was being funnelled down to a single point. At that centre there was nothing but a patch of solid white, the sensors unable to cope with the brilliance.
"Our orders are clear," Claws said softly, reaching for the miniature safe under his console and twisting the combination dial. A complex code went into an electronic keypad, then he pulled out a key from around his neck. Numbly, Wind From The Mountains did the same.
===
The trap was deployed, a spinning sphere of disruption that acted as a barrier to magic and any attempts by a magical creature to cross it. It will also stop our ponies from escaping, Luna thought, then grimaced, holding back a sudden flood of pain from the sharing. Her right wing complained mightily with each stroke, but it was still better to fly than try and use her rear right leg. That first step had been like stepping into molten iron. A flicker of inwards directed magic damped down the pain, but not completely.
Yes, but they are all he has to slow our response; he will not dare do anything to them. Deep within the rock, the arcane field pulsed, bowing out on one side as its prisoner tried to force his way through. Celestia's magic spiked, adding to the barrier. He has grown stronger; we should do this now.
Behind the clouds there was a brightening, a rapid dawn that lit the landscape a sullen grey which rapidly became pearly and then a blinding white. The rain stopped in moments and the clouds rolled back around the focus of Celestia's influence, light from the now mid-morning sun funnelled in from kilometres around and focused to a spot only ten metres across.
Rain-soaked rocks exploded in an instant under that hellish glare, spraying out in gouts of white-hot lava or simply boiling away. The opposite side of the valley, more than five kilometres away, was immediately covered in smoke, then mad, yellow flames, as the reflected heat ignited every scrap of vegetation.
Luna reached in, pulling at the shock-fractured rock and throwing it behind them in an ever-growing fountain of ejecta. The artificial cavern, sides still at a yellow heat, deepened, bypassing the prison's upper levels and bending to intercept the cavern. Without line of sight, Celestia's light could no longer help, so both mares flew down the passageway, ripping and tearing the rock as they went.
The final dozen metres were the most tricky, so Luna, more skilled at fine manipulation, took the lead, with Celestia pulling away the spoil and blasting the rock walls with solar heat to fuse them into smooth, glassy basalt. The final thickness of rock, nearly five metres deep, was removed as a single plug, its sides the perfect polish of a force field cut.
Luna darted through the opening, her personal defences merging with the Element-spawned shield like a stone falling into a pond. In a single, perfect moment, she saw the cavern laid out before her -- tens of ponies, stumbling like the survivors of some industrial accident, trying to get away from the long body of Discord. Screams and cries from a dozen throats, the thrash of wings shorn of flight feathers. A shape wriggling in those heavy, draconic jaws. Her own chiropt, body slashed and bleeding, sprawled against one wall.
All her attention focused on Discord, Luna's magic, amplified by the Elements, surged and reached out with the hammer-blow of power needed to twist space-time so tight that it would lock Discord away for another millennium. There was a tickle at the back of her mind, a vague warning that this scene was too perfect and more like a bit of theatre, and she hesitated, all that potentia held in abeyance. Celestia, why have you not--?
The attack came, not from the focus of her will, but from the side. The sergeant who'd rescued her from the secure prisons under the Royal Palace was on his hooves, eyes now mismatched and glowing with a terrible intensity. Magic, already laid within the fabric of the world, sprang into being, funnelling into the weaker flanks of her defences. She struggled to reorient her power, change the potentia from offence to defence, but it was slow, far too slow, and the attack was already well underway.
And then Celestia was there. Not a presence at her back, but by her side, her own magic closing over the assault and drawing it away, like venom sucked from a wound. The delay, that vital second, was enough, and Luna unleashed all her power on that smiling, lying form. The rainbow shield collapsed inwards, changing its properties to pass unhindered through her and everypony present, falling upon the chiropt and splashing, filling the chamber with cascades of light from red to the deepest violet.
The shape writhed like a moth in a flame, holding together for a brief moment, then expanded into twisting coils of brown-furred flesh and flopping, mismatched limbs. The first Discord collapsed and simply blinked out, depositing a trembling Chirr and a bleeding stallion. Sister, now! We must... sister? That comforting presence, normally so solid and potent, was but a faltering trace of its previous self.
I... I... Luna? Everything feels funny.
Luna wheeled, beating her wings awkwardly when her right hind threatened to collapse, jumping to Celestia's side. The mare was on the floor, wings splayed untidily, breath coming in gasps. She checked her sister by magic, sight and smell, but there was no obvious injury, no sign of corrosive arcana or anything hostile. Her mental presence remained unsteady, fluctuating in and out of balance, like a foal attempting to stand for the first time. Her eyes tracked Luna as she moved, but they were slow and a little unfocused.
"Ow. That hurt! What did I do to deserve all that?"
Discord was smiling unpleasantly at her, muzzle twisted with the hint of sneer. The light still surrounded him, and it was like he was illuminated by invisible lamps of many hues that sent waves of colour along his body. Periodically they would spark, throwing off rays of some pure primary colour; on these occasions Discord would flinch, but his smile never went away. With each occurrence the overall brilliance of the light faded a little, turning ever more muddy.
"What did you do?" Luna snapped, reaching for more power to bolster the magic holding Discord in check but, with only three Elements under her control, the response was weak. The colours brightened slightly, then resumed their steady decay. Come on Celestia -- we need to finish this!
I can hear the blue of your coat. Celestia blinked a few times, shaking her head vigorously, then the light flared and she screamed.
A lance of magic, visible where it curdled the air and changed mundane oxygen and nitrogen in exotic, short-lived and highly reactive species, stabbed out from Discord. It punched through the polychromatic gauze and unpeeled the rainbow shield like it was the wrapping of a Sol Invictus present, catching Celestia square on the breastbone. She staggered and fell, wings thrashing, her tripwire defences activating and shunting the alchemical power away in random flares of actinic brilliance. Light, the colour of the noonday sun but far brighter, flooded the chamber and cast sooty, distorted shadows up the walls.
The output of the three Elements Celestia held faltered, and Luna's own efforts to rebuild Discord's temporary cage collapsed. Leaping to the side, she reached out with her own power, stabbing, grinding and pounding at the source of the assault, fighting to disrupt it before--
The beam flicked sideways, attacking the stone roof and filling the chamber with a blast of rock dust and hurricane-force winds, tainted with choking hints of chlorine and ozone, and sending the whimpering, cowering herd of prisoners tumbling into the wall. Their screams, pale, insubstantial things against the bellow of Discord's magic, made Luna flinch, and she dropped her own attack in favour of extending her shield over everybody present.
In a flash of brown fur and mismatched limbs, Discord was gone, trailing tattered webs of rainbow magic as he bolted up the new passageway and out into the world. Luna ground her teeth and pushed as hard as she could, keeping the remains of the Element's entrapment enchantment active, even as their target accelerated away. Little pulses of feedback pulled jagged claws of pain through her head, but she held on, worrying at Discord like a dog with a rat.
Celestia's cries died away to a moan, then she staggered to her hooves, swaying like she'd had a close encounter with a slaughtergryphon's hammer. There was a discoloured patch on her chest, concentric rings of fur changed into metal needles that leaked blood as she moved. A wisp of pale magic stripped the splinters away, leaving a ragged zone of stippled and scarred skin. She looked up, ears flattening as she saw the empty room. "Where--?" she asked, voice harsh and pained, then broke off, body wracked by a sudden cough.
"I still have him," Luna ground out through gritted teeth. "He's trying to teleport, but I'm interfering." She looked around the room at the huddled mass of ponies, all wide-eyed and frightened. They will live. "Can you fly? He's getting too far away and I don't think I can hold him--"
"Sorry," she muttered, "he's really getting strong, even with the Elements." Celestia flapped her wings experimentally, then jumped for the freshly dug tunnel, Luna hot on her fetlocks.
At the surface, Discord was a dot over a distant mountain, but still very close. The Elements still have a hold on him, Luna thought down the sharing.
Yes; they are inhibiting his world-shaping powers. No supersonic flight with that body shape. Celestia's mental voice gained strength by the second and, below the ponies' hooves, snow was blasted off the mountainside as they cracked the sound barrier.
Luna nodded with satisfaction; there was shame in that voice, but also anger. Perhaps we should give him something else to worry about. Assent came back along the link and a twist of sun-hot plasma materialised at Celestia's side. The mobius loop collapsed into an unbearable pinpoint, then flicked outwards. Another followed it, then another and another, until they seemed to merge into a continuous stream.
Baring her teeth into the slipstream, Luna growled, drawing on her Elements and feeling them grow heavy with potential, then reached out and twisted space-time into a complex knot a body-length from her head. The light bent around it in strange ways, distorted by the harsh gravitational gradients. This close she could feel the weapon, a ghostly tugging on her muzzle. The power of the Elements lent her strength and the zone of distortion abruptly deepened, developing a painfully bright point at its centre.
Sighting on the rapidly closing Discord, she let it fly.
===
Luna poured her power into the Elements and had it returned tenfold, focused and refined to a degree she could not match even at her freshest and most alert. Twisted packets of space-time, shedding hard X-rays that made the air around them glow blue with ionisation, manoeuvred under the influence of her will, trying to get a clean strike on the impossibility that was Discord. More power, and most of her attention, was on maintaining the tangled skein of rainbows that coated their enemy like an amoeba trying to engulf some food item.
Discord is weakening, but so am I. She risked a glance at Celestia, some tiny portion of her will magnifying her view of the mare, until it was like she flew alongside, rather than ten thousand metres away. She looks how I feel, Luna thought. Wing beats -- not needed at this level of potentia, but used to steady the mind and make flight magic instinctive -- were ragged where they should have been smooth, marking out Celestia's fatigue and apparent uncertainty. Plasma bolts continued to spring from the appalling patch of brightness that travelled with her, but the rate had declined markedly.
Look at her, so weak! I bet I could take her right now, then the world would be rightly mine and the night could--
Luna hunted down that errant thread of thought, crushing the alien presence that sought to worm its way into her mind. The feel of the thoughts was frighteningly similar to her own, and it was hard to see where she ended and the other began. "Oh no you don't; never again," she muttered, sweat soaking her flanks once more. Power sprang out of Discord, not the simple energetic plasma of Celestia, or her own gravitational tangles, but alterations to reality that tried to subvert the building blocks that held her atoms together and change them into new and less useful forms.
Disrupting these magics took both finesse and strength; things that were in increasingly short supply as her body weakened and her mind lost focus. The realisation was an unpleasant one; if Celestia had been at full strength they could have finished this quickly, but the fight had dragged on, and it was horribly apparent that Discord was far stronger than either had imagined.
I gave you a chance, Luna, you should have taken it. The oily voice was tired, but held a note of victory, and the image of a smile, full of mismatched and jagged teeth. This time it resisted her efforts to close the connection and little tendrils of alien thought started to creep into her awareness. Look at your sister, really look. Her eyes flicked sideways to the still active imaging spell, seeing Celestia's head sag even as her eyes filled with panic. She can feel me as well... Another pulse of plasma left the mare's side, but it went wide, smashing a crater in the flank of a nearby mountain. The tendrils became vines, then great, thorn-covered branches, twisting and coiling through her mind.
Magic faltered and muscles stiffened, her wings fixed into a steady glide as her velocity bled away, Luna tried to call on the Elements but there was a barrier to her thoughts, and the intent faded even before it could be formed. Come to me... the oily voice whispered in her head. She twisted in the air, heading towards the distant Discord. Beside her, Celestia did the same.
===
Safe open, Wind drew out a small case and extracted a red-edged square of plastic marked War Plan Seven -- RUBICON. A quick flex snapped the plastic, and she withdrew the card within. Claws held up his own, and they compared the four-digit codes on the front. Both matched, so the cards were slotted into their consoles. "Ready?" she asked. He nodded and typed in his personal code with trembling talons. The system accepted hers and the strategic targeting list started to update, marking off the weapons as they were withdrawn from the deep magazines and slotted into autoloader queues.
Cloudsdale. A floating city, one of the wonders of the world and a must-see for any tourist visiting Equestria, but also the main base for their air force and their primary cloudocks. A hundred and forty megatons worth of airbursts in a time-on-target barrage; fourteen, ten megaton weapons in two rings of seven at two and seven thousand metres in altitude. Enough energy to turn flesh to steam over ten thousand square kilometres.
Manehattan. Most populated city, filled with tall sparkling towers and the bustle of millions of ponies adding to the already prosperous Equestrian economy. A financial hub, containing the headquarters of many companies across the world. A pattern of low yield devices -- only two hundred kilotons each -- spread like oversized cluster bomblets up and down the coast. A few surface strikes to crack open the towers, followed by airbursts to set the wreckage on fire. The most ammunition intensive city target, attracting nearly a hundred warheads.
Canterlot. Iconic seat of power, boasting buildings more than fifteen hundred years old, and the home of some of the most advanced science institutes ever seen. High yield earth penetrators for uprooting the Panopticon and turning Mount Aither-Erebos, and the Royal Palace, into dust that wouldn't settle or cool for years. A plume of fallout stretching halfway around the world.
The prairie-sized hay farms, supporting a wide mix of species and wild flower meadows large enough to change the colour of a country when seen from orbit, and providing enough staple fodder for half the equine population of the world. Thousands of small, cheap, filthy fission devices made from uranium and plutonium that was no longer needed by modern pure fusion weapons, scattered at random to seed the farmland with long half-life radioactive poisons from activation of their cobalt casings.
Millions ended in a moment of fire, hundreds of millions from untreatable burns over the next day, and billions dying from poisoned food and water in the year after that.
"RUBICON protocol loaded," Claws acknowledged hollowly, grabbing the recessed T-shaped trigger bar and pulling on it so it stood proud of his console.
She did the same, wrapping one set of talons around her bar. "Ready? Three, two, one--" At least no one will be left to remember the names of those who just killed a world... and when we are done with the burning, the Princesses will dig us out of our holes and finish the job. She twisted the handle sharply to the left and let go, feeling her throat contract as if she'd just swallowed something poisonous.
"Ma'am, look!"
Claws was pointing at the main screen. The suborbital drone view showed the two Princesses, as identified by the hyperspectral cameras, and something else. No defined spectral signature, unlike the ponies, but highly variable, full of wild spikes and surges. The computers had drawn a tracking box around the other object, tagging it with 'unknown high-energy magic source'. There was a magnified image, blurred and jittery, in a sub window. Six limbs, but long and snake-like; it wasn't a pony.
Wind gaped, eyes going wide with horror. No! Not for nothing, don't tell me we just-- Her head flicked sideways, gaze locking onto Claws' console and its trigger... its unfired trigger. Exhaling in a sudden, explosive, rush, Wind carefully reached out to reset her own control bar, then cleared the firing list with a shaking claw. A second chance; we all get a second chance. "I owe you my first born, XO."
"I'll settle for a steak," he said with obvious relief. "It was all true..." He looked troubled, then brought up the records of the initial fight between the Princesses. The current power levels were significantly lower and dropped further as they watched. "They are fighting for all of us out there... and I don't think they are winning. Is there anything...?" Foreclaws clenched, he looked at her helplessly.
"We still have a full load-out for VORPAL." She leaned forwards, suddenly excited, and called up the battle management system. Wind altered the attack plan to cope with one, rather than two, targets, then sent the revision out into the strategic command network. On one of the internal camera feeds it showed the suddenly frantic activity taking place deep within the base's magazine; machines large enough to shift an aerodyne were shuttling back and forth, removing one set of projectiles and replacing them with another, more slender, type.
"The godkiller package didn't work so well for Mallet," he said, starting work on his own panel. "Thank the sky for adaptable terminal guidance," he muttered to himself, "at least we can tell them which targets are friendlies." Claws nodded in satisfaction, then took a hold of his trigger. "Mallet will be firing a full set of penaids only, but Sledge and Club are on-line and loaded; all stations ready for remote activation. Oh, my--" Claws' expression became savage, and he indicated the networked systems monitor. "Mauaji, Kuumia and Ghadabu have just accepted remote fire authority -- the Zebra have agreed to your battle plan!"
Hope bloomed in Wind's chest, a sudden lightness and giddy joy that made the room swim for a moment. VORPAL has always been a bone of contention between us and the Zebra; assured destruction is one thing, but to deliberately target the creatures that make the heavens move is crazy at the best of times... but they agree! "Mallet only had their part of VORPAL, not the whole setup... and the Princesses were at sea level; this thing... this Discord is at over ten thousand metres. Much less atmosphere for the beams to penetrate." ...and if they are busy with each other, perhaps it will be enough of a distraction for those zebra gadgets to do some good. She finished setting up her orders, then gripped her trigger bar again. Over her head, there was a faint rumble as the turret moved to its new firing position. At a nod to Claws, they both twisted their firing controls.
No drone launch, this. No need to limit the muzzle velocity for the relatively delicate instrument packages. The mass driver crack-crack-cracked, a rolling barrage of sound that was like standing next to a cycling autocannon. The narrow 'V' of shockwaves rippled out, each on a slightly different path as the turret changed its angle for the time-on-target salvo. The master map updated and changed scale, showing a fleet of green points arching up from various points in Goldenwing and Hookbeak and from across the Zebra Alliance.
"Flight time is... two hundred seconds, plus or minus. Telemetry is good; post-attack sensors deployed and recording," Wind announced, feeling happy for the first time in several days. We can see Discord, so he must have some presence in the physical world. That many megatons must at least tickle. She smiled, staring at the multiple views from drone and distant aircraft vectoring in on the battle.
Whatever happens, at least we tried.