//------------------------------// // The Mighty Helm // Story: Legends of Equestria: Hesturland // by The Blue EM2 //------------------------------// As the Native Guard opened fire on their attackers to try and drive them away, Rockhoof headed for another location to try and affect an escape route. They had stopped the missile, yes, but the bigger issue of how to escape still remained. Also, did they leave the base in place, or try to destroy it? The massive facility had no obvious power source or reactor to damage, so that wasn't an option. As he made his way down the hall, swinging enemies out of his way with his shovel, he tried to keep a close eye out for anything that may help him establish where he was inside the facility. He was close to giving up on finding his way out when he was suddenly called out to by a group of warriors, all of whom were carrying axes, were dressed in thick, heavy furs, and wore silver coloured helmets with wing motifs and spikes set into them. "We made it, sir," said the first. "Where do you need us?" "As I live and breathe!" Rockhoof replied. "Hello, lads! As you can probably see, we're rather stuck in this place. Do you have any ideas as to where we can get out of here? Because we're fresh out of suggestions here." "We entered through an air vent," one of the Helm replied. "I must admit, it was rather strange entering through ducts that seemed to be wide enough to take a pony, but then again this place must need a lot of air to keep operating." "Especially since we are several hundred feet underground," added another. "As much as this conversation is fascinating," said their leader, "we have an important job to do. Rockhoof," he continued, turning (not too unreasonably) to Rockhoof. "As you're probably aware, the nuclear missile has been knocked out. However, we have a problem." "And that is?" Rockhoof asked. "The base has a considerable complement of missiles fitted with conventional warheads. Whilst nowhere near as powerful, these missiles could still inflict massive damage if they were fired succesfully at their target." Just then, the same words heard over speakers earlier began to blare. "Three- Seven- Two- Four- One- Five- Seven. Two- Nine- Five- Eight- Nine- Five- Four- Seven. Six- Seven- Six- Eight- Four- Five- One. Five- Two- Four- Nine- Eight- Six- Three. Four- Two- Four- Six- Seven- Eight- Six." Gunfire continued to echo down the hall as the Native Guard tried to hold the enemy off. However, the considerably fewer reports than before suggested that some casualties had been taken. "Rockhoof, this is Meadowbrook, are ya receivin' me, over?" "Loud and clear, over." "We cannot hold our location. Enemy forces are too great in number, and we're runnin' low on ammunition. We need ta withdraw to another part of the base or access the elevator, over." "Roger that. Withdraw. Myself and the Mighty Helm will finish the operation on our own. Out." The radio channel flickered shut. "Lads, we have a launch to stop. Lead me to where the other missiles are located, so we may take them out." "Of course sir. This way!" The first waved his hoof, and they started off on their way towards the other section of the base. As they passed through the lower tunnels, it soon became apparent that they were nearing their target. "Three- Seven- Two- Four- One- Five- Seven. Two- Nine- Five- Eight- Nine- Five- Four- Seven. Six- Seven- Six- Eight- Four- Five- One. Five- Two- Four- Nine- Eight- Six- Three. Four- Two- Four- Six- Seven- Eight- Six." "Will somebody turn that racket off?" Rockhoof shouted. They soon knew that they were close to their mighty target; the missile facility. The missiles, due to the intense heat and noise they generated, were kept in a part of the base that was sealed off from the rest of it to protect launch staff and rocket crew. The area was filled with pipes and tanks, most of them marked with strange fuels and other propellant that was presumably used to keep the rocket moving. Signs were giving warning about keeping back from launch bays and other sources of fumes, but the base finally led them to a room. It was a big room, filled with machines, and several of the consoles had illuminated buttons, covered in coordinates and other useful data. It was clear the missiles were in a launch ready state. "Three- Seven- Two- Four- One- Five- Seven. Two- Nine- Five- Eight- Nine- Five- Four- Seven. Six- Seven- Six- Eight- Four- Five- One. Five- Two- Four- Nine- Eight- Six- Three. Four- Two- Four- Six- Seven- Eight- Six." "Does anypony have any idea how any of this machinery works?" Rockhoof shouted. "Because this is all pretty ancient!" "I can only assume that's why they chose it!" said another pony. "They selected a launch system that would be immune to the effects of an EMP! All this kit is from the cold war days." "Three- Seven- Two- Four- One- Five- Seven. Two- Nine- Five- Eight- Nine- Five- Four- Seven. Six- Seven- Six- Eight- Four- Five- One. Five- Two- Four- Nine- Eight- Six- Three. Four- Two- Four- Six- Seven- Eight- Six." "30.2241° N, 92.0198° W." "Insert launch keys." "They're getting ready to launch!" shouted Rockhoof. "Stop them from launching the missiles!" "Rotate on my word. Three, Two, One, rotate." "Launch underway. May God be with us all." One of the ponies then had an idea as he glanced across the consoles. "I have an idea!" he said. "We can't stop the missiles from launching, but these machines are bringing in telemetry data and information that allows them to find their targets reliably!" "How does that help?" asked another. "Well, if we reset the data and change the flight data on these machines, the missiles will fly off course and land in the Gulf of Mexico! The explosions will be far enough out at sea that the water won't affect anybody, and the city of Lafeyette will be spared!" "Do it!" Rockhoof shouted. "Get those missiles off course!" Several ponies then began mucking about with telemetry data and similar, with numbers scrolling across the screen and being changed as they went by. One set of destinations then became another, and other sets of displays then switched to show new targets. Suddenly, the thunderous roar of numerous missiles taking off in front of them shook the base, as the lighter load, but no less deadly, missiles lifted off out of their silos and into the sky. The roof gantries rolled back into place as the missiles vanished from the view of those in the control room, the jets of flame from the engines vanishing into the air. "We did it!" said one pony, and they all cheered. "The city is safe now! Our work is done. All we need to do is find our way out. But first, some singing is in order." "Of all the money that e'er I had; I spent it in good company. And all the harm I've ever done; Alas it was to none but me. And all I've done for want of wit To mem'ry now I can't recall; So fill to me the parting glass Good night and joy be to you all!" "So fill to me the parting glass And drink a health whate’er befall, And gently rise and softly call Good night and joy be to you all!" "Of all the comrades that e'er I had; They're sorry for my going away! And all the sweethearts that e'er I had; They'd wish me one more day to stay! But since it falls unto my lot, That I should rise and you should not; I gently rise and softly call- Good night and joy be to you all!" "So fill to me the parting glass And drink a health whate’er befall, And gently rise and softly call Good night and joy be to you all!" "How do you know that one?" Rockhoof asked. "Stygian knows that and sometimes sings it." "Are you receiving me, Rockhoof?" Stygian suddenly asked over the radio. "Loud and clear, over." "You need to get out of that control room, fast! There's something very big approaching from nearby, and it seems angry." "Roger that!" Rockhoof replied. "Troops, we need to get out of here, right here and now!" "Not so fast, you little grubs," said a voice. Suddenly, there was a loud scream and another jet of flame shot across the landscape. A massive blue dragon flew through the sky and landed before Rockhoof. He was absolutely enormous, reaching almost to the top of the clouds. His horns were so massive they looped down the sides of his face (one had a golden ring on it), and his cold orange eyes stared down from atop a massive head fitted with a jaw big enough to swallow an aircraft carrier. He also wore heavy dark blue armour, his wings slotting through the gaps in the plates. Rockhoof gulped. "Thor help us," he said.