//------------------------------// // 1.2 "Ballet of Shadows" // Story: Eclipse: House of Frostmane's Few // by Spectre_Crystaleye //------------------------------// CHAPTER 1.2 "Ballet of Shadows" “Finally! We can be done with all this bloody empty-hooved searching!” A stalwart, tall unicorn breathed in relief as he made his final adjustments to his buoyancy control vest and riggings. His golden eyes contrasted somewhat sharply to the grease paint surrounding them as they darted from latch to latch. A pair of sparkling bright amber eyes regarded Master Sergeant Keen Edge’s with amused agreement, though they seemed more excited than sated that the time had come once more to wade downrange. Lieutenant Commander Cutpurse wore an almost unending smile on her ever optimistic face while she set about her own last minute checks to the dive gear covering her petite frame. Like the others, every inch from hoof to mane was concealed under a drab and effectively camouflaged wetsuit and loaded with the equipment needed to see the mission through. “Hey LT, can I get a hoof with this strap?” A stout, solidly built mare inquired as she shuffled in front of her commanding officer and pointed at the unbuckled strap of her explosives bag on her back. Corporal Shockwave, a native to Las Pegasus, was the team’s newest member. However, the talented demolitions expert already had several missions logged with the busy group. Cutpurse artistically corrected the problem her fellow earth pony was having with her deft hooves wearing a winking grin, “All set!” Shockwave shuffled away to fetch her boltlance waiting patiently on a rock while the bubbly leader trotted over to give the final member of the team a hoof. Sergeant Steel Rain was a mountain of a stallion. Standing several hooves higher than most at the withers and positively chiseled with finely honed muscle, the massive unicorn was nothing short of an unfair advantage for the team. After all, carrying nearly double the ammunition to gorge a hungry belt-fed heavylance than any other support gunner in Eclipse was no small bargaining chip! “Ready to rock, big guy?” Cutpurse grinned to him as she looked over his kit. It was in absolutely immaculate order as always. Every latch stowed. Every lanyard squared away in perfect knots. “Yes ma’am.” He replied in his disciplined, mild country drawl as he hefted the masterfully engineered heavy weapon he called his own into its place against the air tank with his horn. “Ok,” Lcdr. Cutpurse cast an administrative gaze around the gathered operators as she keyed her communications collar, “Alpha Six, sound off comms check and ready.” “Keen. Tally ho.” The unicorn wrought of noble blood remarked to the network as he made a final adjustment of his beautifully engraved sabre strapped to his side under a camouflaged flap. “Shock, ready to rumble.” The explosives specialist declared as she primed and safetied her boltlance carbine. “Steel, five-by-five.” “Patch and Sky, one-hundred percent. We have a tango primed and waiting your signal at the end of the first pier, possible rover on the second.” The Medic’s voice came in over the airwaves. “Copy. Keep it tight, Alpha.” Cutpurse concluded to the team at large, “Let’s get in and out and home for dinner.” She let her hoof slide free of the ruby and the forest around them returned to its tranquil serenity. The night creatures went about their grand chorus to the gentle beat of the waves lapping ashore before them. They all knew their next task to the letter, and there was no need for words. The rest of the sub-team Mako shared gazes with one another and traded hoof-bumps and nods before loading their respective boltlances and wading into the calm waters of the vast lake. With the skill and flow of a synchronized swimming team, the operators smoothly transitioned to the dry air of their regulators and slipped into their fins as one unit. With a last look about, each pair of goggles came down and the four ponies disappeared below the calm surface. The water was brisk, but their suits effortlessly drank up a perfect share of it to warm against their bodies. Within moments they were as comfortable as pegasi floating on a bed of clouds during a summer day while they slipped calmly along. Cutpurse led the skilled swimmers through the clear, dark waters with only occasional glances at the compass strapped below her watch. Though she knew her team was always at her back, she did twist about every few moments to be sure they were still behind her if only to enjoy the lack of gravity earth ponies so seldom experience. The Lt. Commander was grateful Princess Luna had graced them with a decent moon this eve, for it was always difficult to spot her comrades even with the trademark exhale bubbles they had in training. Their mission regulators, however, utilized a series of enchanted filters mounted opposite to the air line that broke down their breath into their base elements, allowing them to pass unseen into the water. Unnecessary to the average diver of Equestria’s many lakes, it was vital to the team sliding just deep enough below the surface to mask their very existence from the draconian fishing boats passing overhead. Bah! No interesting fish again! I really must ask for leave to dive a proper reef… Cutpurse thought to herself as she checked her watch and compass again, shifting the team to a new heading around a bend in the lakeshore. They were getting close. Another few moments passed before she slowed to a hover and spun on her team. They circled around in a perfect formation to await her command and she gave it promptly. A flat arm with a hoof peeking up from below signaled them all to slip their weapons into their pasterns and check for boats in all directions. Satisfied they were clear, she gave the hoofs-up to ascend for a look. The team broke the surface with perfect grace and speed, their readied boltlances and hooded crowns barely breaking a ripple on the smooth wake. They took in every detail around them, from the boats in the distant east to the silhouette of the aforementioned guard standing lazily on the edge of the pier before them. In seconds, they were again slipping silently below the waves towards the beginning of a wild night. The invisible warriors closed on the slick, moss painted pillars marking the old wooden pier that defiantly struck out into the lake and on command split into pairs. Cutpurse and her demolitions pony veered off towards the farther, unoccupied dock while the stout stallions stalked up to the base of the guard’s footing. Keen Edge carefully secured his carbine to its place slung on his side to free his hooves for the task at hand. MSg. Keen could see the unfortunate fellow gaze out to his right onto the tranquil lake, completely unaware that his life was so near its end. His years of experience had dulled him to the deep absolution of the fact, but as his father and all good Kensinghoof gentlecolt officers did, he took the time to appreciate and remember the lad’s existence like every enemy he had ever smitten. He felt a tapping at his finned hind leg a second later and knew it to be Steel’s signal from the Lt. Commander. It was time. On the tree-laden knoll, the marksmare team waited in perfect calm for the sign to begin the storm. Sky held her complex, heavily camouflaged weapon in perfect line with the warrior pondering his existence across the water while her partner scanned the shore. Only a few moments after Cutpurse had told them they would be in position, she noticed movement in the water just below the sentry. Amid the calm wake lapping against the pier a slender, armored unicorn horn slipped out of the waves and waited patiently for them to oblige. “Send it.” Nature rolled in tranquil harmony all around Skylancer as she cycled through another deep, rhythmic inhale. Hers was one with the breath of the world and she could feel the very heartbeat of the earth coursing through her veins. As she reached her apex and began the all-important decent, she smoothly closed each of the doors in her mind’s eye. One by one, she shunned the diversions of life and narrowed her focus on the ever-crucial first shot from the cold bore of her lance. A master of her chosen instrument, she rotated the heel of her hoof along the weapon’s frog notch from its safe resting place against the frame to its cherished poise before its beloved trigger with all the grace of a violinist readying her bow to the bated breath of a concert audience. As the last of her breath wove its way past her tender grip and her reticle came to rest, she finally allowed the forbidden kiss. Enchanted horseshoed heel met matched steel in a perfect embrace that slipped an eager mechanism into motion. In a span of half an eye-blink, the crisp trigger broke from the sear like a thin glass rod and sent the runemagiked hammer flying home to strike the opposing rune etched into the arcane primer outside of the mana crystal chamber. Crackling magical energy blasted forth in protest from the precisely shaped battery before being harnessed and channeled into an amplifying conduit. Infuriated by the compression of the coil, the energy exploded into white-hot arcane fire and smashed its way out of the flux into the breach. The only course left to the desperate pressure was to rocket the waiting sabot from its resting place and escape from the muzzle behind it. Force slammed into tungsten and the dart was spun away before the manafire could even pursue it into the night air. The determined flame would have exploded in freedom after the supersonic flechette, but every wink of it was arrested by a heavily spelled suppressor attached to the muzzle, silencing the shot with a series of baffles and dampening enchantments while the excess energy was channeled back into the lance’s overflow ducts. Once free of its sabot casing, a perfectly spiral-cut diamond helped stabilize the beefy spike it topped in perfect concert with the grove-fletching on the tail as it screamed through the air so violently swift that Sound itself struggled to even parade in its wake. Like a chisel once struck, it sailed with irrevocable absolution on its voyage of little more than a third of a second towards its unsuspecting goal. The red-scaled fighter standing his last moments on the tranquil dock never knew what happened when the deadly dart effortlessly passed through his skull and continued on its unerring way into the shoreline beyond. The cackling shockwave following just behind was the real cause of damage and his light was extinguished before he had even begun falling backwards towards the Master Sergeant’s waiting horn in a corona of pink mist. A carefully placed golden aura caught the falling dragonkin by his leather baldric and gingerly lowered him noiselessly into the wake. A second warrior hadn’t heard the hypersonic dart crackle past, its sound lost amongst the bustle of the villages many campfires. However, he did notice that the pier now stood empty where seconds before a companion had been stationed. He took a curious step towards the edge of the wooden planks and his last step upon the earth. A trio of much smaller, ruby tipped, copper hollow-point slugs smashed and tore their way violently into his armor and flesh and brought him to his knees. In his last moment of consciousness, he spied his deliverer of death bobbing on the surface under the pier, her compact, suppressed sublance still trained on his form like a leopard clenched to the throat of prey long expired just to be sure of its work. With the shoreline clear, Cutpurse gave an advancing order while stowing her weapon and slipped out of her scuba rigging with the others. As one unit, they sunk their unneeded kit after activating a return rune that would have it home the moment they called for it after the mission was seen through. Satisfied they were ready, the operator ponies all emerged from waters onto the rocky shore and regrouped near the remains of the second sentry. “Nice shot, Sky.” The Lt. Commander voiced with a grin as she reached the others. “Where to from here.” “Head left around the hooch to your front and make your way down the alley.” Patch replied over the earpieces as the rest of the team prepared their much quieter, suppressed lancepistols. “It’s clear for the moment.” “Copy, you’re clear to engage any immediate threats we don’t see, but keep it to our pos.” “Solid copy, L.T. We have you covered.” “Ok, let’s dance.” The perky leader could hardly contain her mounting smile as she gave the move order to begin her cherished specialty… silent infiltration. On specially crafted rubberized horseshoes, and falling back on months of tedious musculature training, each of the four ponies hoisted themselves to a bipedal stance to better manipulate their weapons. The suspended rearing, awkward and clumsy at absolute best to most ponyfolk, was as natural as trotting on polished stone to the members of Eclipse and they flowed naturally between them as the needs arose to forge extraordinary agility. Her team formed around her and elegant sidearms at the ready, Cutpurse shouldered her sublance and set the intricate waltz of a Rolling Tee into motion. The team danced and flowed through the shadows of the village, every sector covered at all times. As a crossroad appeared, the ponies at the lead branched off to cover it while their teammates flowed past, effortlessly swaying back into the dance when the last one slipped by and tapped their shoulder. It was a ballet of trust and familiarity bred by countless hours of training with one another to the silent music of enemies unaware. Thanks in no small part to Patch Up’s careful directions, the team met no resistance they couldn’t quietly avoid beyond one poor magi whom had chosen to take supper atop his thatched roof that evening. He had just noticed the presence of strangers below when another perfectly placed sabot zipped by from afar and robbed him of his ability to report the fact. After the body slumped to rest for its final slumber on the bundled reeds, the equine ghosts washed past towards the cages beyond. Two warriors were discovered guarding the only occupied cell of woven planks and branches as Cutpurse stacked the team at her flank and peeked around the corner. The young males seemed lost in a conversation about a recent fight and couldn't notice the perfectly camouflaged face taking in their every detail before slipping back behind shadowy cover. “Patch,” the Lt. Commander whispered as she keyed her throat gem, “do you have eyes on the tangos guarding the package?” “Only the one on nearer to you.” “Ok, reverse pincer on Keen’s signal.” “On target. Rock and roll when ready, Bossmare.” Cutpurse was confident in her accuracy and speed, but she still took a couple deep, calming breaths to wash away the worry of all the loose variables involved in such an assault. Keen was stacked at her side a moment later. When he was ready to cover her, he reached up and gave her shoulder a deliberate pastern squeeze before slipping it back inline to support his pistol while the remaining members watched the rear. “Mark.” Keen echoed to all as his team leader slipped around the corner, weapon leveled to the enemies whom spotted her the moment she stepped into the torchlight. A third powerful longlance bolt ripped into the night and found its mark while the stealthy mare’s short weapon clicked away its own controlled torrent of deadly cargo to silence the scaled being centered in the holographic rune of her unmagnified optic. Both fell almost in unison as the first and second in command continued assaulting past where they lie to be certain the area was secure. “Clear, move up.” Keen’s voice rang softly forth a moment later to gather the team at the pair of scaled heaps in the dirt. As they approached, he noticed the one hit by Skylancer was still alive. The wounded reptile tried desperately to find breath for his lungs to finish his duty in alerting his kin, but none could make its way past the mangled wreck that was once his throat. Partly out of pity, and partly from training, the Kensinghoof officer swiftly ended the futile struggle with a skilled thrust of his beautifully engraved mithril sabre before slipping it back into hiding in its covered sheath. Cutpurse blinked as the blade caught the moonlight and flashed briefly into her eyes on its way back to its hiding place. She made a mental note to give him a hard time about it while the crackling groan of the cell door announced its surrender to Steel’s powerful hooves and lurched to the side. Satisfied the cell was clear to enter, the burly unicorn shuffled aside to allow his fellow horned equine and the Commander to slip by and tend to the sorrowful disaster of flesh and shattered will lying within. “Captain Stonewall?” Lt. Commander Cutpurse shifted her tone to its sweetest octave. Spiced from her soul’s ample stock of knowing sympathy and genuine concern, it rang like angel’s song against what was left of his ear. “Wh… wha… who… who are…?” Stonewall's voice fought past his pain and fatigue just enough to be audible as he struggled to focus his blurred vision on the beings that surrounded him. He couldn’t be sure what stood before him, but her gentle hoof’s touch on his cheek was heavenly and her smiling eyes were enough to make him weep in relief. “We’re here to get you out of this place, sweetie.” Cutpurse explained quietly as she lined up her thoughts with the briefing they had all attended. “I just have to ask you a couple questions. Where did you meet your wife?” “D… D… Dodge Junction.” He knew the protocol behind the inquiry and forced an answer as clear as he could. “How old is your son?” He blinked his already squinted eyes a few times in confusion before replying, “Son? I… I don’t h… have a son… I have a little seven-year-old filly.” “Good boy.” Cutpurse grinned as Captain Stonewall fell over the finish line, successfully proving he wasn’t a cleverly polymorphed magi waiting in ambush. “Get him mobile, Master Sergeant.” She ordered as she slipped out of the way to give the stallion room to work. “Let’s get you all ready for the parade then, shall we?” Keen Edge coaxed encouragingly as he set to work with his telekinetic spells, deftly maneuvering a pair of wire cutters from his kit to vanquish the bonds around the guard’s gnarled legs. Cutpurse quickly set to work fashioning splints while he continued his work. “Wh… who are you ponies?” Stonewall squeaked in pain and confusion to the completely alien face covered in grease pigments. “Oh, just good Samaritans, Old Boy. We were out strolling along the lakeshore with a whistle and a tune when the smell of cooked chicken flesh tickled our fancy we thought we might stop in.” The cultured officer never did seem to lose his humor even as he coursed his eyes and hooves over the grizzly scene to check for more damage. Satisfied that the only serious problems were his useless hind legs and a plethora of lacerations he replaced his cutters and fished a vial from another pouch. “We were just about to settle for tea when we came across your cage and figured you could use a spot of it yourself.” Confused and wracked with hurt as he was, the battered pony in the dirt still managed a glimmer of a smile. “Now then.” Keen spoke curtly as he coaxed the small container to the stallion’s lips within his magic’s golden aura, “This will keep any of those nasty little scratches from breaking loose and stoke your furnace a bit Lad, but it’s going to burn like Celestia’s fiery sun.” The battered stallion nodded and braced himself before sipping the concoction down in one dreadful swallow. Teeth clenched, he grimaced and fought the urge to cry out in agony as the immolation burned through his veins. Wounds still lightly dripping away into the dank earth closed and scabbed loosely over while the rest of the potion rushed into his heart, snapping him awake in a torrent of energy. Cutpurse dove for his maw to capture a scream in her hoof when he involuntarily bucked with one of his shattered legs and nearly passed out again from the pain despite the secure braces now in place. The operators both supported his frame and held him still until the potion had run its course. When he settled, they relaxed their holds and Keen brought Stonewall’s face level to his for a look with proud eyes. “There’s no doubt anymore, Old Sport. You are definitely a Captain of her Majesties’ Royal Guard.” Through tear streaked eyes and a quivering lip, Stonewall took the compliment and locked it deep into his resolve. He didn’t know who the strangely equipped ponies were, but they were warriors and loyal Equestrians in his eyes. That was good enough for him. “Let’s… go home.” Stonewall nodded back at the fellow unicorn and allowed himself to be hoisted onto his neoprene-covered back. Keen Edge spent a moment adjusting his hold until it was perfect, and inadvertently knocked the flap loose from the hilt of his jeweled sabre. Cutpurse smirked as she trotted up and flicked it back into place. “You really need to have Smithy blacken that thing. You can see it from the moon.” “I’d sooner steal Celestia’s crown from her brow for a diamond dog.” He grunted as he finally got comfortable. “That actually sounds kinda fun.” The talented former thief jested as she imagined the challenge of such a heist. “Perhaps a series of mirrors and a darkness spell, or a distracting flock of phoenix! Or a rampaging…” She brought her runaway pondering to a close as Keen nodded his ready and she stepped back into the clearing and into her role as Commander. Her stalwart heavy gunner and demolitions experts had both been silently safeguarding the trio behind ready pistols and eagerly awaited the command to move once more. When it was given, they were instantly away, rolling down the opposite alley of their infiltration to scout a path towards the sanctity of the forest south of town. “We have the package, Moving to primary extract point.” Cutpurse whispered across the net. “Copy L.T.” Corporal Patch Up replied from their hilltop resting between the two points. “Be advised, you have two rovers on your six and nine o’clock alleyways on course for your downed tangos. We have no shot.” The news of patrols wasn’t unexpected, but Cutpurse cursed the luck all the same as she tapped Shockwave on her flank and explained a dual ambush in hoof signals. The stallion trio kept on their stealthy march towards the southern edge of the village as the two mares split off to deal with the new problem. The stocky explosives guru found a dandy pile of barrels to slip into and ready her suppressed sidearm while her commander had all but disappeared beyond the shadows after the other one. The first dragonkin, an older magi, strolled casually into the small prison clearing and had only just spotted the remains of his brethren when Shockwave opened fire. Round after silent, subsonic round zipped into his unarmored robes until he was satisfactorily plummeting towards the dusty street before she dared move from her concealed position. She stood a bit too rapidly, however, and found herself aiming at a neutralized threat while a still very real one dashed into view from the other alley way. Grinning like a puma preparing to pounce upon an unwary deer, the young warrior tightened his grip on his spear and prepared to hurl it at the wide-eyed rookie as she fought her surprised nerves to bring her pistol into the fight. His javelin would be loose long before she could have her strange weapon bared and he would eat well tonight. A perfect kill. Or so he thought. In the span of a lighting flash, he found his hand could no longer feel the rough shaft of the spear though the fiery pain of a deep cut along his wrist. He followed his spear on its fall to the earth soon afterwards when he discovered his knees had been harshly bucked out from under him by what could only be Death itself for its swiftness. The agile pony was upon him before he could blink. A hoof caught him by the horn, and another by his shoulder and his vision was snapped to the sky as she wrenched his head back to clear a path the tender scales over his throat. The last visions of his brief life were of the gem encrusted heavens twinkling over a neoprene coif as Cutpurse’s signature diamond-edged dagger plunged into his jugular. Struggle though he may, the dagger held fast by the teeth of his assailant would not err in its mission to deprive him of consciousness. There was an intimacy that came with such an assault that was so opposite that of a ranged attack or even a face to face melee. It had been extremely hard to cope with the first few times she had done it years ago. Held in a tight embrace, she could feel his lungs fighting for air while his panicked heart beat franticly against her chest. Clawed hands futilely scratched and griped at her limbs with waning strength as doom settled into his mind. As the last of his lifespark faded away and his body fell limp in her arms, she allowed herself to relax and pull the elegant blackened blade from the fatal wound. Cutpurse did not hate the young draconian now lying on the cool earth at her hooves. Neigh, she in fact held the poor fellow in high regard for fighting until his very final breath against her as an honored warfighter. However, he was a threat to the safety of the team and the mission and the choice was an easy one to the seasoned Eclipse operator. “Thanks L.T.” Shockwave breathed finally in a sigh of relief while watching her commander clean and sheath her most trusted companion back in its nylon home across her breast. “I…I thought he had me.” “You were tunnel-visioning again.” Cutpurse observed as she took up her sublance once more, taking a moment to perform an administrative reload. The long, slender, partially depleted magazine was swapped with a fresh one by deft teeth and put to rest in a spare pouch. A few spare jeweled treats saved for later to slay more bodies should they arise. “Sorry, Ma’am.” The demolitions expert drooped a bit while taking her lead and reloading her own sidearm. “It’s ok, Corporal.” Cutpurse whispered as she set her poise and stalked past her down the path that the stallions had taken. “Just work on keeping that awareness sharp.” “Aye, Bossmare.” With the All-Clear from the overwatch detail, the mares wasted no time slinking silently along to regroup with the males. The gap was quickly closed by the much less burdened pair and the assault team found itself back to full strength just shy of the last hut on the southern edge of the village. Nods were exchanged before the team stacked up on the final wall behind the Lt. Commander in preparation to cross the clearing into the tree line beyond. Starting from the heavy gunner at the rear, each pony reached a support hoof up to squeeze the shoulder of the one before them until the readiness signal reached Cutpurse. “Clear to the trees.” Patch Up called to their collective ears. “Stay on my flank, Keen.” The team leader whispered before she briskly trod across the barren zone with the master sergeant and cargo in hot pursuit just behind. The rest of the team slipped across the moon-drenched clearing a moment later. Shockwave trot quietly at a bit slower pace as to not leave the bulky stallion at the rear too exposed. She was nearly to the treeline when Steel noticed something flicker at the edge of his vision. It was then that the night took a turn for the worse. “Shock, FIREBALL!” The gruff stallion's voice shattered the serenity of the night as surely as the arcane explosive that screamed into their midst. Thinking quickly, Steel Rain willed his natural magics into motion and snagged the mare’s vest by its drag handle at the base of her neck. With no time to spare, the green aura yanked her off of her hooves backwards and into his forelegs before they both threw themselves at the deck. The hot orange blast lit up the night in a deafening roar, snarling and licking at the protective suits of the equine warriors grimacing against the showering dirt and ash. Before the last of the flames had even began to dissipate, the clever magi that had launched the assault from behind the cover of a tanning rack moved to cast another at the immobile pair. “Contact Left!” The clear alert from Keen Edge’s crisp tongue was the last words the reptile ever heard. Muffled plinks of the Commander’s sublance beside him were lost in the sounds of the brewing storm beyond their sight in the village. The shrill drone and holler of a symphony of war horns rose to a crescendo among the shrieks of a dragonkin war-band in sight of fresh battle to be joined. The noise spurred the two remaining ponies from their huddle in the charred earth as though bull whips chased their every step. “Multiple tangos inbound your pos, Mako. Hard contact in 30 seconds.” Patch’s voice was clear and calm, tempered by training. However, there was an electricity of rising adrenalin at its core as she prepared to truly go to work. “Solid Copy, Raptor.” Cutpurse acknowledged as the rest of her team crashed through the brush and joined their circle. She kept her hoof on the communication gem as she addressed the entire assault group. “Alpha Six is going loud. Raptor, you are clear to engage at will.” The team calmly and swiftly holstered their sidearms to ready their primary lances as the hoard’s rumble drew closer. The crackle of heavy supersonic darts had already begun to punctuate the advance from Skylancer’s skilled hooves when they were ready to move once more. Keen, primary boltlance hovering across his breast in his golden aura and precious cargo on his back, was the first to break for the sniper’s position along their exfiltration route at Cutpurse’s order. She clapped shockwave’s arm a moment later and she followed right on his heels, her slightly heavier-equipped carbine ready in her shoulder and hooves as she strode on-end. “Steel, give me base of fire from the main road on the right all the way over.” The commander directed him with a poignant hoof over his shoulder he readied his massive support system. As the shots from on-high carefully rained in on the closing shadows and roar of armored talons and steel, Cutpurse took a deep breath and opened the pouch of one of her mana detonators. At her right, the titan unicorn lugged the long, cumbersome device from his back to rest on a tall stump that was long ago cut short by a mischievous lightning bolt. With his emerald telepathy, he pulled a long, merrily jingling steel belt lined with devastatingly long, sharp and heavy solid tungsten sabots from his bulky pack. Strong teeth unlocked and threw wide the top cover to reveal a polished and hungry feed ramp. The line of ecstatic ammunition chattered with metallic anticipation as they were draped into place and the lid slammed shut over them. The last step as the first enemies charged into view was to hook his powerful hoof over the charging handle and rip it back before locking it forward and digging his shoulder into the elegant wooden buttstock. Calm determination painted his grimace as his hoof heel hovered over the stiff trigger and waited for the order. The steel-brandishing warriors and magi with spell ingredients at the ready that rushed into the clearing around the smoldering circle of the recent fireblast expected to find a pile of pony-shaped cinders in golden armor or at the very least a beast of the Everfree. Instead they found yet another of their comrades’ bodies silenced by mysterious wounds and a trail of horseshoe prints leading into the trees. They could not fathom the depth of destruction their imminent counter-assault held for them just behind the first row of foliage as they charged. The village had good reason to believe the enemy was nearby. However, the entire lake basin knew that battle had been joined when Cutpurse’s order annihilated the peace of the night. Like the ear shattering billow of a dragon’s fiery roar, the heavy machine unleashed a torrent of withering wrath beyond a massive tongue of blue-white fire. The concussion of the huge mana-crystal driven weapon shook the very earth below their hooves and lashed a terrorizing swath across the ranks of their attackers. The first wave was cut down without mercy by the long, skilled, and well controlled bursts of fire form the pair before the remainder of them sought cover to retaliate with bows and magic. Though their cover stopped the slow, heavy copper bullets fired by Lt. Commander Cutpurse's compact sublance, it was ruthlessly torn asunder by the powerful automatic cannon at her side. This did not stop a few courageous archers and magi that were shivering in a hole from finding their nerve and screwing it tight to their hearts. Soon, the easily spotted report of the heavylance became the focal point of a slew of clumsily placed lightning bolts and wickedly tipped steel arrows. “Go on my deto!” Cutpurse shouted over his fire as she fished one of the small brass spheres from its pouch and harshly peeled off the tape that protected the pin beneath with her teeth. Satisfied she had a target, she readied her throw and took a breath. “Deto out!!” She called out before she ripped the pin away and immediately hurled it downrange. She was rewarded for her throw by an arrow that streaked in to bite at her shoulder as it glanced past. In return, the warrior and his companion hiding behind an overturned wagon were allowed to witness their demise slowly bounce down next to them in the form of a curious ticking brass orb. The arcane timer inside the orb decayed to termination swiftly and with its last breath ignited the delayed fireball spell trapped within the purposely cut and fragmentable metal shell. Judging from the tiny splinters that were once a solid oak wagon, Cutpurse was sure they were not going to have the chance to shoot at her again. She continued raining fire in carefully aimed rapid single shots as her support gunner enveloped the carry handle and hoofgrip of his massive platform in green energy and displaced after the others. Though her shots were placed with lethal precision, it didn’t take long for her enemies to overcome their fears and realize that the hellish cannon had moved off. Such was the down side to well-suppressed weapons. A lightning bolt snarled past too close for comfort, scorching the neoprene over her back all the way down to her mocha hued coat below. The castor was put down promptly after she moved to the side and regained her fire with the last rounds in her magazine. Still without word of her partner’s ready, she chose to forgo reloading the empty primary and instead transitioned with flawless haste to her pistol to keep the suppressing fire flowing. “Set!” Came Steel’s gruff voice an instant before the deafening thrum of his system re-engaged. “Moving!” “Move!” Cutpurse holstered the partially depleted sidearm and broke into a gallop towards the unicorn, who was laying prone on a rock outcropping with his heavy lance supported on its bipod accessory. She could see the other two of her assault team making slow progress across the meadow towards another outcropping ahead of them as she arrived adjacent to the gunner. She wasted no time hopping back on her hind legs to work her weapon. The empty magazine was flung from the mag well like a rotten apple found in a cider batch to be replaced by a fresh source an instant later. It chittered to the ground, adding a bit more character to its healthy collection of scrapes and scars as it came to rest. The impact activated a simple enchantment that verified it was empty before it dissipated into smoke to make its way lazily back home. “Set!” The team leader called out as she sent the weapon’s bolt home and brought it back into the fight. “Moving!” Steel hollered over his short, deafening bursts. “Move!” He was up on his hooves and galloping in an instant. While he held concentration on manipulating the weapons grip and carry handle to keep it close to his chest, he fished a fresh belt of ammunition from his pack with a third green arcane aura. He draped the new chain across his back to expedite the complicated reload he knew was coming soon. He was nearly caught up with the trio on point when they dove for cover behind the rocks they had just passed to avoid a volley of arcane missiles that cut across from the tree line to their right. “Contact Right!” Keen hollered as he set his carbine to work. With the collapsible stock tucked tight to his shoulder, he focused his mana-handling on the specialized front grip attached to the bottom rail in order to keep three hooves on the deck to support his precious cargo. A bipedal silhouette found itself behind the enchanted purple dot and ring superimposed on the unmagnified lens of his reflex optic and he deftly flicked his hoof heel into the trigger as many times as it took to drop the target. His loud shots were joined only a second later by Shockwave's own unsuppressed lance and a troublesome report. “Contact left!” Cutpurse skillfully slowed the main advance, but the moment she heard Steel Rain’s massive weapon ignite she was off like a shot towards the outcropping. Their position was a blossom of fiery rage with the three blue-white unsuppressed muzzle flashes striking into the dim night air in every direction. The petite pony slid into the group and quickly assessed the situation. She had feared from the onset that this might come to pass. The dragonkin had expected a rescue assault, and they didn’t intend on letting them leave alive. From nearly every direction, the enemy had been lying in wait to stomp out an attempt to retrieve the imprisoned guard. It was, however, a fear that she could conquer and cast aside with discipline and experience. Their foes were prepared to stop the Canterlot Royal Guard and all the relative might they could bring to such a fight. They had never heard of Eclipse. “Grace, this is Alpha Six!” Cutpurse called into the communications network over the roar of her team’s fire. “Assault team is cut off along primary extract route! Requesting immediate close-air support!” “Copy traffic, Alpha.” Came the calm voice of the airship’s comms officer. With just three simple words a moment later, her entire team was put at ease to deal with the fight at hand. “Scrambling Hurricane Flight.” <==========})===0 ~~*~~~*~~~~*~~~*~~ 0===({=========>