//------------------------------//
// Lyra vs Wall-in 
// Story: Ponies Versus Starcraft 
// by ambion 
//------------------------------//

    Wall-ins. So frequently used that they’re hardly even annoying, just expected.

The thing at the bottom of the ramp though? Not so much. It can pretty much be assured that no marine ever knew the word ‘chauteuse,’ what colour that was, but that was the colour of the pony pacing hopefully below them.

“Sarge? Saaaarge?” A marine called from his spot behind the depot.

“What?”

“There’s a unicorn...”

“That has to be the dumbest, most insane-oh nevermind she’s right there. I see.” The sergeant was another marine, and of the two guarding the spot had the higher tolerance to alcohol. This may or may not have been directly related to his promoted status whether as a cause, an effect, or even both.

He cuffed his fellow and pointed. Lyra beamed. “Kind of our groupie, but take it from me, she’s good.”

“So can I come in?” she called up. The supply depot, a barracks and attached tech lab made up the obstruction; an unintuitive but effective use for the buildings. The lights on the tech lab lit up; machinery began its busy whirr.

“You know we’re kind of in the middle of something, yeah? Might not be the best time for-”

“Early double expand four gas hive rush,” she said merrily. “Probably trying a timing mutalisk harass into blorbs.” She looked to befuddled marine. “Oh, a rookie, right. That’s broodlords to you.”

“How-” the marine began, but was shushed. Lyra only shrugged.

“I can be hard to notice like that.”

But...”

“I don’t see how, I mean, bright green isn’t really a stealthy colour, but something works.”

“But...zerg!”

“Eh, don’t worry about” the unicorn muttered, giving a little gesture as if to say ‘eh, don’t worry about it.’ Which is what she did say. Precisely that. “Oh!” she shouted, her eyes bright and wide. “Can I do the thing can I do the thing can I do the thing! Please?”

The sergeant only chuckled, his fellow marine gawked near-silently. “Fine, go crazy.”

With adulations of ‘yay,’ Lyra sauntered up the ramp and stood before the supply depot. The squat square sat, until the unicorn boldly declared for it to lower. Servos whirred into action, bringing the flat roof of the structure down flush with the ground in a whoosh of steam and air.

Lyra stepped atop it. “Raise!” and it did, the whole thing flinging her high up over it. “Wee!

Lower! Raise- Wee! Lower! Raise-Wee!” The unicorn did silly flips and poses as she bounced over thirty feet into the air. Workers from the mineral line peeked from their tasks to watch.

“Do a backflip!” one called out.

“Do a barrel roll!” another shouted. She did both, and more, to everyone’s great pleasure.

Then the zerglings showed up.

“Waitwaitwait I totally got this!” she shouted. “Lower!”

“No, no! It needs to be up! Up! Raise, Raise!” It didn’t. The savage little beasts were tearing up the ramp, a hop, skip and jump from Lyra. A skip - they were right on top of her now, how was she only smiling?! - and a jump.

“Raise!” Lyra howled out gleefully. Screaming zerglings - they’d been screaming before, but instead of the ‘rawwr we’re crazy mofo nasty’ screams these were ‘omgomgomg this is bad’ screams befitting small-minded terror.

Up they all went, scrabbling and twisting through nothing, full of panic. Lyra pushed them back with skillful, deft movements, so that as they came down the zerglings fell outside the wall-in. Lyra landed lightly atop it.

“Ha!” she shouted victoriously as scuffling zerglings picked themselves up from the dust.

“Shouldn’t we be shooting or something?”

“Nah.” The barracks comprising the other half of the wall lit up, adding its lights of business to the lab’s.

They charged the wall again, only to have Lyra’s timing put them through the same flying expectations. After the third time, the sergeant was feeling downright sympathetic. Motivated by such feelings of mercy, he raised his gauss rifle and fired.

The bullets smashed on rock and the beasties scattered.

“Git outta here!” he called after them. Giggling and short for breath, Lyra jittered off to the command centre in search of a cool drink.

“See you later, Lyra.”

“Keep it real, bro.”

Then the tech lab dinged a notification and a combat shield grew into existence from nothingness at his left arm.

The unicorn disappeared around a corner, and more or less right than the third marine spawned. “Anything happening?” he asked.

“Pretty much just what you’d expect,” said the sergeant. “Zerg going on air, I hear.”

The second marine only gawked, but sort of wanted to weep a little bit too.