“Masterson, get down to the EVA core and lock down the bulkheads,” Alexandra instructed. Their boots clanked across the steel grate floors as Masterson hung a right and disappeared down a flight of stairs. Defense turrets mounted on the ceiling and floor tracked his approach towards the command bunker, opening up its bulkhead in preparation for his arrival.
“Scrin drone ship has landed within the vicinity of Providence. Forces from Camp Greenwood are being mustered to aid the camp in its defense.” EVA brought up fuzzy orbital visual displays of the ship deploying in the forests, quickly replaced with a simulated regional overlay as forces began to pour out from Greenwood.
“Alexandra to Mobius, come in, Mobius,” he said, eyeing the crawler cutting its rounds around Greenwood’s perimeter short and redirecting towards the Everfree Forest.
“Mobius reads you, Command. I assume you want us to roll out the red carpet for our new guests?” Hampton asked.
“Standard protocols apply: give them a wide berth and let the Titans tear them apart, with infantry to mop up if they get too close.” Alexandra walked up the steps to his command console as the bulkhead behind him closed, settling down into the command chair and watching from his seat as the doors sealed themselves. “You won’t be doing the heavy work for this one, though. That’s where the Inferno Corps come in.”
“They’re here already? Damn, they’re fast.”
“Godric was never really one to sit around. EVA will alter their deployment vectors and put them in a staggered entry along your path of advance. I’m sure you remember our unwritten rule when it comes to the Burning Fists?” he asked.
“Of course. Stay behind them and try to avoid their flamethrowers, and hope they don’t find a reason to point it in our direction. I’ll practically have to keep my boys back since I have the regulars under my command, not Steel Talons.”
Alexandra’s command display flashed red as EVA snapped his view further north. Tiberium encroachment was already well underway, with the Scrin buzzers already working to oversaturate the environment with Tiberium, giving anything they touched an artificial and glossy look, like green-tinted chrome spreading at the pace of a wildfire.
“You might want to double-time your movements,” Alexandra warned her. “It looks like they’re trying to roll their green carpet out to us first.”
“Aw, shit. I hate it when they do that.” Alexandra brought his display back to Greenwood, watching as Hampton’s attack force settled into formation and began to advance, with Michelin’s defenses deployed in their wake.
“Why didn’t we pick up the drone ships on the Methuselah’s sensors?” he asked, checking the troop carrier’s detection systems. They read all clear.
“Cause of infiltration is unknown, but it is possible that the ship had managed to effect entry into the sector quick enough to engage stealth systems. It is possible that this drone ship may not be attached to the Annihilator cult, and is instead being used to reconnoiter the area for the advancing invasion force. An alternative method of entry would be the drone ship making planetfall on another location in the world, and moving to our location afterwards. Our planetside detection systems are not calibrated to circumvent the stealth systems of a drone ship.”
“Has this information been forwarded to InOps? And what’s the status of OP Castle?”
“The information was forwarded the moment the drone ship was detected, commander. OP Castle’s anti-orbital cannons are fully functional, but can be redeployed to serve as a fixed artillery position if needed.”
“No need. I’d rather have the cannons keep watch on the skies than on the ground. Give me a force projection estimate and threat assessment of the vanguard Scrin forces.” He relayed orders to a section of soldiers at the tail of Hampton’s column, redirecting them to the hills near Providence to assist Viers with the defense of the mutant camp.
“Enemy resistance is expected to be minimal, or otherwise following standard scout element contingents for a non-cult Scrin drone ship. Threat assessment is rated high, however, given their ability to quickly counteract our abatement efforts and their rate of Tiberium spread.”
“Damn. I’d rather try to contain them as soon as possible...” He checked over Greenwood’s garrison, noticing a single unit of Havoc pilots on the ground and on stand-by. “EVA, can low-altitude attack craft be deployed with the current levels of ionic interference?”
“Contested. Ionic interference has only dropped to levels sustainable by aircraft, but operational capability should not be impeded so long as the levels do not rise, and the craft maintain consistent altitudes underneath mountainous regions. Precluding your assumed request to deploy Havoc attack gunships near the location known as Winsome Falls, be assured that they will function nominally in these conditions.”
“Good. I know this is normally Rowland’s field of expertise, but he’s not here at the moment. Attach them to Mobius’ command and send them ahead to stem the Scrin spread.” The screen shimmered once as EVA acknowledged his order, and he sat back to let the plan unfold as the first of Godric’s forces began to arrive through transports, landing ahead of Hampton’s crawler as Nod confessors led their men into the gnarled woods before them.
The Havocs were off the ground in less than a minute, zooming out of Greenwood and past the ground forces, heading into the hills and beginning their bombardment runs. Cannon and missile fire were what greeted the first contact between Scrin and ISDI forces in Equestria. Alexandra had no doubt that things would get louder—and bigger—before long...
“Damn.” Harold hurried to the windows, peering beyond the grayed metal blinds as he saw the Havocs raise themselves into the skies. “Already? That’s far too quick...”
“Are we under attack again?” Fluttershy said meekly. “Should we... find somewhere to hide?”
“That won’t be needed,” Harold said, withdrawing his hands from the row of metal before him as the security systems automatically rotated them shut. Bulkheads followed, sealing the room and the outside world between layers of thick steel. “Secondary security measures have been activated...”
“Yes, sir,” came a voice Harold hadn’t heard for the longest time. The guard sergeant and the accompanying private stepped inside the room as the door slid shut and locked behind them. “Security just confirmed what everybody has been talking about: the Scrin are here.”
“No, no, that’s far too soon.” Harold returned to his seat under the worried gaze of the ponies, and cycled through the newest intelligence reports. “It’s only an advance element... thank goodness.”
“It certainly isn’t something to trifle with, if the measures you are taking seem to show anything, dear,” Rarity said. Her assumption was merely proved further as the guards shifted uncomfortably; even the sergeant, who showed discipline during his time as the head of the room’s security, let out an aura of unease.
“The Scrin have shown that they can be deadly even in the smallest numbers. And according to...” He enlarged a live feed display showing the Scrin buzzers, darting about as shimmering forms of energy-laden vessels, rapidly transforming the forest into a sea of emerald glass. “This is incredible. They’re using the fast-growth strain to suppress our advance and encircle us.”
“You know more about us than we do,” Applejack said. “So I’m guessin’ that this whole fast-growin’ stuff is probably bad business for us all, right?”
“Correct. I’ve been with the Methuselah’s staff for some time now. Most general combat scenarios we deploy into are textbook battles, mostly with our equally standard Scrin counterparts in turf gains or to soften them up for the big guns. The fast-growth strain is highly volatile and takes specialized task forces to properly deal with. The regulars simply aren’t prepared for this.”
“He’s correct,” the sergeant said, letting Harold’s PDA translate for him. “The tib that those bugs drop just moves too fast. Can’t get in any harvesters, notwithstanding that tib tends to make a big boom when you try to remove it with bullets. I saw a holo-vid of that stuff in action once... some unlucky bastards got caught in the wave. What was left of them wasn’t pretty to look at.”
“You mean that the crystal can eat people?” Dash exclaimed. “I sure hope these Inferno guys can handle the heat!” Upon realizing what she said, she added, “Pun unintended.”
“They have incendiary weapons,” Harold replied. “There’s no need to worry about where you’re aiming when all you need to focus on is what’s in front of you.”
“Do you require aid? Will more of them arrive soon?” Luna finally piped in. Bandages covered the majority of her body, with the remaining length of what was once her ethereal mane now cut short, to the base of her neck. A lone eye, colored a curious blue, remained situated upon him as the other was covered with a pad. “My guards stand ready to—”
“It’s not needed, Princess Luna. Really,” Harold reassured her for yet another time. Upon realizing that the medical feats performed by Doctor Wesley had saved her life, and Pinkie’s, she had been more than forthcoming in attempting to aid them in any way possible. “We can handle it.”
“If you say so,” she said, clearly unwilling to rescind her offer.
“Hospitality’s a big thing in Equestria,” Applejack answered for her. “You did right by us, so it’s only fair that we can at least help do right by y’all.” The ground shook violently, and the lights flickered until the tremors subsided. “Sheesh, this whole attack’s nothin’ but a can o’ worms, isn’t it?”
“You can never be complacent when facing the Scrin.” Harold checked his PDA, noting that Greenwood’s communications systems seemed to be running into interference. “EVA, what’s going on with the systems?”
“Communications system—s seem to be s—suffering interfereeeeeeeeee—cause unknown—systems malfunc—enemy sabotage likely—shifting operational capabilities to autonomous mode. Awareness suites offline. Local OS mode engaged.”
“EVA? EVA!” Harold looked to the sergeant, who was tapping the side of his helmet attempting to gain an uplink back to the network.
“It’s out,” he said. “Shit. Private, keep an eye on that door. Local OS mode just kicked in for me, and I can’t raise anyone on the comms at Providence or the Methuselah. Sergeant Easterling to anyone on Greenwood, please respond.”
“Sir, we have company!” the private shouted.
They looked to the door to find the mountainous form of a Black Hand trooper standing in the doorway, flamethrower in hand and pilot light flickering at the tip of a barrel ready to deliver fiery death to the ISDI’s enemies.
“Greetings, soldiers. My name is Confessor Winslow. I alone have been assigned as the Steel Talons’ ward to our quadrupedal friends. And in light of the EVA outage, it seems, none too soon.”
“Just one?” the sergeant said. “I’ll go bring more guards. The commander doesn’t want to take any chances with security here.”
“Do so,” Winslow said, crouching down to pass through the doorframe as he entered. Easterling left, leaving Boscoe standing at door duty and Winslow inside to tower above the intern and his pony charges. “So, these are our new allies, are they?”
“Not so much allies as people in need of aid,” Harold replied. He slapped his PDA; the feed on the comms was still dead, and there was no sign of returning service any time soon. “Damn, what the hell did they do?”
“I’ve seen jammers like this before,” Winslow said. “We dealt with them once, on New Feugoro. The Scrin deployed heavy scale communications jammers in an attempt to eliminate communications between soldiers and the command structure... which seems to be what they are attempting to do here.”
“You think the Scrin landfall might have something to do with it?”
“Possibly,” Winslow admitted, trudging around the room and staring back at them from beyond his blood-red visor. “Scout elements have never been known to use jamming equipment before. It’s far too large to carry with a drone ship, and the operation doesn’t lend itself to such wide-scale obfuscation.”
“So if the Scrin aren’t behind it... then what is?”
“Now that,” Winslow said. “is the question we want answered...”
“Masterson!” Alexandra walked through the bulkhead of the EVA core’s new home, deep within the heart of the command bunker, right hand holding his sidearm in a death grip. “What the hell just happened to our systems?!”
“I have absolutely no freaking idea, Marty!” Masterson answered, tapping away on his keyboard as he ran check after check on EVA’s systems. “She’s running fine, but her outgoing facilities—comms, battlefield intelligence processing, commander suite sky-eye, Methuselah weapons uplink—won’t work. I’m trying to figure out what’s causing it.”
“Is it an ion storm?”
Masterson shook his head, pausing a moment to readjust his keyboard. “It’s not an ion storm. If it was, those Havocs would have already crashed and burned, but we would still have comms and the sky-eye. This is something else.”
Alexandra watched the lines of text speed up the length of Masterson’s half dozen monitors. “Is it a Scrin jammer? No, that wouldn’t be possible... the jammers require ludicrous amounts of energy and have a massive structure size to boot...”
“But the effects are similar to what we’ve seen so far. Nothing else that we know of in the Scrin arsenal is capable of stopping us cold like this. They may have prototyped a portable version, but I can’t imagine them being successful in trying to scale down the energy cost...”
“Can we trace the origin of the jammer?”
“If we had the uplink to the Methuselah, sure.” A screen switched over to the regional map, but only received a static-torn screen in return. “Like all the times before: we’re running blind here on the ground. Local comms will still work, just nothing high-scale like a transmission from here to Greenwood or the crawlers.”
“Hampton will be on her own, then,” Alexandra said. He continued staring at the text speeding past his vision as he deliberated on what to do: the Scrin could easily land reinforcements and strike at the ISDI positions while their systems were incapacitated. In the most urgent of situations, he would have been able to simply order an airstrike on the Scrin drop zone and end the trouble before it even began.
“Well, it’s not all bad, right? We were lucky when the Burning Fists showed up. Maybe they can clear a path straight to the Scrin base before things get worse,” Masterson said. The single system registered a beep of completion, followed by yet another as he sent it back to searching for a solution.
Alexandra’s silence answered for him. Godric, being more than simply another soldier underneath his command, had always been adamant in arriving early to assist him in whatever ways he could. Memories of hushed conversations between Godric and his father came to the fore, and he couldn’t help but wonder if there was a promise unknown to him brokered between them.
“Godric will know a way to deal with this. Combined with Hampton, I’d say that the Scrin already have more than enough to contend with.” Alexandra patted Masterson on the shoulder reassuringly. “In any case, we’ll know for sure soon enough.”
“... from localized ion storms...” Masterson muttered underneath his breath, staring straight at a screen off to his right. “Marty, the jammer always produced an ion storm, right?”
“Yes... why do you ask?”
“Oh, that’s it! We could—Marty, you know that crystal we brought up from underground? The one sitting in Greenwood right now? What if—and don’t act like I’m crazy this time, because I swear that I’m right—that damn crystal is the one that’s causing this?” he said, standing up and gesticulating wildly in Alexandra’s face. Had Alexandra’s helmet not been closed, Masterson might have seen him visibly react to his immediate outburst.
“It’s... possible...” Alexandra replied evenly. “But it might just be a coincidence. The research team only brought the thing in hours before the Scrin landed.”
“And we still don’t know how that thing ticks.” Masterson nodded, muttering several more semi-relevant words quietly. “Yes. It’s a coincidence, but it’s a damn big coincidence, don’t you think? It’s a Tiberium strain that works on magic, something that we only have the faintest of ideas on how it functions. Didn’t that doctor’s report to you say something about that?”
“The crystal was assumed to be... a communion object for the mutants. For what, we don’t know yet,” Alexandra said. “That was supposed to be the next step of Doctor Wesley’s research into the shard before more immediate concerns arose.”
“Well, we didn’t find an off switch on the thing, did we? We have the sonic control rings, like we used for the old Tiberium Control Network back on Earth, but we never had to deal with the Tiberium broadcasting any sort of signal from itself. It might be worth looking into.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Alexandra said. Masterson printed out a snippet of data from his checks, shaking his head at the unwanted result. “And keep trying to get our systems back up and running. I’ll arrange for a ride back down to Greenwood.”
“Will do,” Masterson said, waiting until Alexandra had left and the bulkheads again sealed themselves before relaxing. “Well, can’t complain about having another trial run for the counter-jammer...”
“Keep pourin’ on the heat, lads, we’ve got ‘em on the run!” Godric shouted, searing the ground before him with spray of fire. Tiberium cracked and broke away at their advance, and the the unlucky Scrin buzzers caught unawares by their sudden advance gave an alarmed chirp before dying away in the flames themselves.
“Pressure, gentlemen, keep that roast going,” Hampton said on the all-unit comms. Her crawler launched another volley of thermobaric missiles, lacing the path ahead with fuel before they sparked and exploded spectacularly.
“Keep the fuel churning, and tighten up your lines!” Godric grunted disapprovingly. “And why’s the bloody network offline? Commander, things workin’ fine up there for you?”
“No, captain, the whole thing’s gone dark. I’m trying to hail the Methuselah or Greenwood. Nothing. Keep pushing forward, we have to get rid of the ship before it has a chance to cause more trouble.”
The Havocs—callsign Heron, courtesy of Hampton—remained above the advancing force, punctuating the air with the sound of cannon fire as they remained close to the Mobius. Further behind them, the zone troopers watched their flanks with cautious eyes, on both the deeper treeline and the ground before them. The movement of the unseen buzzers produced an eerie feel that only served to keep all of them on edge.
“I’m getting more movement on the radar,” Hampton said. “Watch yourselves. Contacts inbound from the southwest. Heron One, we’re going to need another strike on the drone ship.”
“Copy, Mobius, but the bugs were setting up AA the last time we punched it out of there. Should we proceed?” Heron One said.
“You’ll coordinate with the Talons for this one. Tiger One, you there?”
“Ready and waiting, Mobius. What’s the job?”
“Switch to hard target missiles, reconnoiter the Scrin drop zone, and destroy any AA if present. Don’t stay any longer than you have to.” Inferno Corps troopers slowed to shield themselves when another shard of Tiberium exploded. “Damn this fast-growth strain. Heron One, get a move on. Tiger One, I’m moving Spider and Wasp under your control, bumping you up to six: make sure there’s nothing left to bother the Havocs.”
“Yes, ma’am,” came the cool reply. Six Talons rushed by the Mobius, rearming themselves as their onboard production facilities automatically refitted to the new missiles. “We’ll be right back.” The hovercrafts vaulted over the wall of flames and disappeared within seconds.
The Havocs trailed after them, making straight for the drone ship smoking in the distance, the prior strikes from the Havocs already producing a visible effect. Scrin energy projectiles hissed through the open sky as they immediately scattered to avoid being hit.
“How much longer until we hit the drop zone, anyway?” Godric asked.
“Several hundred meters. Sure seems farther than that with all of these trees.” Within the crawler, Hampton slammed her fist against the control panel as she groaned inwardly. Without EVA, all battlefield intelligence beyond what her crawler provided was inaccessible, though she already had a fairly good hunch as to what was causing their outage. “I’m hoping that Tiger reports back with a sighting on a jammer. Blowing the hell out of whatever’s causing this muck-up would make my day.”
“Err on the side of caution here, ma’am,” Godric said. The staccato thumps of exploding hardware signaled the success of Tiger’s surgical strike, followed by the meatier series of explosions as Havoc swooped in. “We stretch ourselves too thinly, and the Tiberium growth will eat us all alive. ‘Sides that, I’m sure we would have seen the damn jammer on our way down here. This whole valley’s clean, as far as we’re concerned.”
“Well, we were underground before you guys showed up. Had to fight our way down a hellhole just to kill off the mutant stronghold here, and drag that damn shard back up to the surface. If they had a jammer here, we would have seen it when we ran our post-op scans, and we did run scans all the way up until everything went dark.”
“Hold on a moment. A shard, you say? A Tiberium shard?”
“You heard right. Damn thing was nearly three stories tall and more violet than the purple hearts they give out to the poor guys in the hospital. There was a lot of talk about it being infused with magic, given how... well, you know, we’ve run into unicorns and stuff.”
“Magic... unicorns... I don’t know if you’re speaking of this with a serious face or not, Commander Hampton. Such mystical properties are dangerous if left unchecked...” he warned.
“All serious, Captain Godric. You’re free to go take a look at it back at Camp Greenwood once we mop up the Scrin.”
“Excellent. I’ll keep that in—”
“Captain! Contact!” a trooper shouted, redirecting his flamethrower barrel at a swarm of charging buzzers that broke out of a smoldering tree trunk. The trooper laughed in triumph but was cut as a plasma bolt struck him in the chest and knocked him over.
“Disintegrators! Open fire!” Hampton said. The Mobius’ cannons rotated to their left flank, and began firing at the skittering packs of gun-faced quadrupeds. “Check all flanks, I’m reading more contacts incoming!”
“Get the lad to the medics!” Godric shouted, dragging the wounded soldier away from the combat and settling him against a jagged rock. As he waved a medic over, the Inferno Corps at Godric’s section withdrew to safety as the zone troopers stepped forward to lay down suppressive fire. “Tend to this soldier! Inferno Corps, maintain your stream of fire! We cannot let the Tiberium overwhelm us!”
The hail of lead from the trooper chainguns kept the disintegrators in check, leaving Godric free to order a switch in weaponry for his brothers: their flamethrowers were holstered and they brought out their own trooper assault cannons, armed with thermobaric shells in accordance with their doctrine.
“Return fire, brothers! Show the scum what it means to fight against Nod!” he shouted. The Inferno Corps were trained leagues better than the regulars, and it showed: the disintegrators were caught unawares by the new heavy weaponry as the shells detonated against their barrels, showering the targets and their unfortunate brethren in fuel before they could flee.
Another trooper screamed in pain as a bolt lanced straight through his shoulder. The disintegrators had newfound effectiveness following the Ascension Conflict; what had once only been marginally effective against basic infantry now held lethal implications for zone troopers, but the ISDI found that the improved performance from the power suits outweighed any detriments to wielding them against the common disintegrator.
And the disintegrators were not known for their accuracy, much to the troopers’ thanks.
“Their numbers are running out, keep it on them!” Hampton said. The dual chainguns mounted atop of her cannons operated autonomously from the main system, chewing through the dead organic cover the disintegrators used as they shuffled around, half in retreat, half in confusion as the overwhelming firepower left them scrambling to reorganize.
Tiger and his unit returned, bounding over the huddling line of troopers as they wheeled around to engage the targets. The Havocs followed shortly, giving much needed assistance to the stalled ground battle.
“Heron One, proceed with strike along the indicated path I’ve set on your HUD. Leave nothing standing,” Hampton ordered.
“Affirmative, Mobius, moving to clean house.”
The troopers cheered as the remaining signatures on the radar were wiped out by the missile strike. Godric, however, thought differently. “Don’t be countin’ your blessings just yet, troopers. Inferno Corps, form up and keep moving forward.”
“Back to business, Mobius,” Heron One broke in. “We did a good number on the drone ship. I think it’s on the last of its legs now, but there’s an ion storm building up around it that’s sending our systems haywire, definitely localized. It might be the jammer.”
“Then we keep moving. All units, fall in. Objective still stands: take that thing out before we all buy the farm. Heron will provide as much support as they can until they can go no further. Let Captain Godric take the lead again—”
The troopers glanced worriedly at each other during her pause. “Uh, Mobius? Are you there?” a trooper finally asked.
“I’m here, trooper, just fine. Keep the line moving and keep your eyes peeled.”
The storm intensified the further into the forest they went, the darkened clouds and the hazy sepia glow that were trademarks of the ion storm eventually forcing them to switch to their low-light visibility mode on their visors. What Hampton hadn’t had the gall to tell them was that their radar had gone out, and she’d seen many more enemy signatures closing in on them before it went dark...
“Commander Alexandra! What are you doing here, sir?” the tech at the containment facility’s front desk said. “We... uh, we weren’t prepared for a visit. Oh, you must be here for the shard, correct?”
“Correct,” Alexandra said, two zone troopers flanking him on each side. “Have you had any disturbances with the shard?”
“Uh, no, none whatsoever.” The tech cleared Alexandra’s authorizations, and stepped aside as the double bulkhead doors began to open. “Well, we haven’t had anything yet. Since EVA went down, the containment facility has been placed on lockdown. You can access the locker rooms and the primary database, but access to the specimen rooms has been disabled. Security precautions, you must understand.”
“I do understand, but I have to circumvent those security protocols because I believe that our current predicament is being caused by our newest addition. Gentlemen,” he called out behind him. A full team of engineers followed Alexandra and his entourage inside and began cutting away at the even larger security bulkheads protecting entrance to where the Tiberium shard was kept.
“I... uh... this is a breach of protocol... sir...” the tech meekly responded. “The sensors inside that room went offline over an hour ago due to the jammer.”
“I want you to do something for me,” Alexandra said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Go round up whatever free security personnel there are here in Greenwood, and get them here ASAP. If what I think is true, then we’re going to need their help.”
“Right away, sir.” The tech disappeared, apparently grateful for having the chance to plausibly deny violation of protocol as Alexandra watched the engineers with impatience.
“Procedure once we get inside, sir?” the trooper to his immediate left asked.
“Lock down the area, and hope to hell whatever’s inside isn’t ready to tear us all apart.” The engineers’ plasma cutters whined to a halt as they fully effected a complete entrance through the bulkhead’s plating. One of them, bearing a blue-stamped shoulder plate that Alexandra recognized as the construction yard manager, stood up and gave him a little wave.
“Don’t mean to be stepping on any toes here, sir, but I’d highly suggest you stand back as we pop this baby,” he said. Motioning the troopers back and Alexandra further, his crew pushed the entranceway aside, revealing a maelstrom of iridescent energy coursing through the room. “Room’s hot, sir, what do we do?”
“Damn it, Henry, of all the times to be right...” Alexandra muttered. “Alright, I’m going to need the troopers to maintain watch out here. Engineers, we’re going to need to access the deconstruction module for this room, can you reach it?”
“Remotely, maybe. But the security system’s locked out here, no access until the lockdown is lifted,” the manager said. “But...”
“If you’ve got a way, I’d like to hear it,” Alexandra said.
“See, there’s supposed to be a control panel access in the room itself. If I can get in there and jack into the module directly, I might be able to shut that shard down before it can cause any more damage, but we’ll be minus one shard after it’s all said and done.”
Alexandra crossed his arms as a pair of engineers attempted to enter; the point engineer immediately keeled over, spouting profanities as his suit began to hiss and spark with the signs of failed electronics. The other quickly dragged him out by the heels, immediately getting to work on fixing the damage.
“Room’s readings are off the charts, sir,” another engineer said. “It’s like the whole room is more like an ion... tornado.” Alexandra’s HUD flashed with the data readings that the engineer had taken: circles flashed red in the room’s areas of energy buildup, and ionic interference had surpassed InOps record measurements.
“Won’t be getting in there without our suits locking up,” the manager said hesitantly. “Actually, I think I’ll take my chances trying to break into the security system. I’ll be right back.”
“Commander, I’ve got your backup,” the tech said, returning with a platoon of troopers in tow.
“What is the situation, sir?” one asked.
“We need someone to get inside and activate the shard’s chamber systems. The deconstruction module has to be activated so we can take that thing apart,” Alexandra said. “I know it’s a shot in the dark, but do any of you soldiers have upgraded shielding on your power suits?” When he received no response, he sighed and shook his head. “That’s what I was worried about.”
“Well, we’re shit out of luck, then, huh?” the manager said. “Just hang on tight, I’ll get into this system ASAP.” A shrill beep made him visibly recoil before the screen sparked for a moment. “Okay... uh, so much for that...”
“I’ll do it,” Alexandra said. “My integrated combat suit was designed for deep strike zone operations, and has the proper shielding installed to withstand even the worst ion storms and interference.”
“With all due respect, sir,” the manager said, slamming a gauntlet into the table as the console booted back up, “I don’t think ‘worst’ is getting anywhere near close to what this is.”
“Better than nothing,” Alexandra replied. “We either shut this thing down or the only thing our reinforcements will find is what’s left of Greenwood and a whole lot of Scrin.” Before any of the others could object, he sprinted forward into the room, letting the thumping of boots and the heaving of one pudgy technician gain their attention.
“Marty!” Masteron sprinted through the front door, pushing his way past the troopers to get to Alexandra. He stopped with a slide, bending over and holding up a finger as he heaved from within his hazmat suit. “Listen... I got... this... this thing...” He held up a data stick, waving it above his head. “You... you have to use this... uh, where’s the commander?”
“The crazy guy just ran inside to jack into the deconstruction module so we can turn that damn shard into raw materials,” the manager replied. “What’s that thing do, anyway? You got a bomb hidden in that stick somewhere?”
“Re... calibrations... for the shielding system... our standard one got blasted by the shard... it’s too powerful. The shield systems were overloaded, and the last several milliseconds’ worth of data that came out of this facility painted a lot of facts that brought the issue to my eyes.”
When the manager motioned to speak, Masterson bid him to wait, and continued with, “But not yet! The shields won’t work right now. The shard is draining the energy being sent to the whole facility system! You gotta kill the flow to this place first, and then you can upgrade the shields and restart them.”
“Uh, I know you’re in charge of keeping the EVA unit running, sir,” the manager interrupted, “but I’m not entirely sure we can go ahead with this. What if it doesn’t work?”
“You’ve got a point,” Masterson admitted. “But I don’t have anything I can use to vouch for it aside from my own promise. But we got to make a call, and we have to do it fast.”
“Fine, give me that thing.” The manager shut the power off and switched the systems to emergency power mode, receiving the stick from Masterson and letting it work its magic. “Wow, talk about fast,” he said to Masterson’s approval. The system updated in real-time without his input, and he raised his hands away from the keyboard as the work was done automatically.
“Well, it’s not just the upgrades. Standard protocol, you know: idiotproof maintenance. Well, at least at Idris it’s standard, the ISDI’s a bit more crude with their maintenance protocols. Guess that’s why they put me in charge of the EVA unit.”
Power flow to the containment facility was shut off when Alexandra finally responded. “Alexandra to... manager... I’m at the panel... but systems... not responding... power’s off?”
“Hold on there, chief, your code monkey here found a way to fix this!” the manager said. “We don’t need that deconstruction module up anymore, we can contain the shard with an upgraded shield system attuned to the shard’s power output!”
“Then do it already! I’m going to... here in case it doesn’t fall through. You got your orders!”
“Yes, sir,” the manager said. The red tint of the screen turned green as the power system fired back up. The deep red of the room painted by the emergency lights was expunged with the cooler industrial lights that came standard with the pre-fabricates.
“Local OS mode disengaged. EVA processes back online,” EVA announced. “Shard shield systems operating at nominal capacity. Shard energy output contained. Mobius attack group has been confirmed successful in Scrin drone ship neutralization. Warning: unknown enemy signatures sighted approaching mutant encampment.”
“Trade one thing for another, huh?” the manager grunted. Alexandra was dragged out from the room with the assistance of engineers, letting their repair beams get to work as he was seated against the wall. “But I think having EVA up and running trumps anything the Scrin can throw at us.”
“Damn fine job, Henry,” Alexandra said tiredly. “I’m sure someone at CENTCOM would have thrown a shitfit over having to trash the shard. Now all we have to worry about are casualty counts and Scrin incursions. And maybe a real jammer somewhere down the line, but we can worry about that later. Maybe when we have Mastodons and MARVs to back us up.”
“That’s why Idris pays me. And I don’t trust anyone else to do it,” Masterson admitted. “Had to be me. Someone else might have gotten it wrong.”
“Right. EVA, is the Methuselah uplink online?”
“Methuselah systems are linked. Weapon systems are primed to fire on your command. Mobius attack group is currently on standby and assisting to casualties. Thirty percent of the strike force has been injured, with two percent sustaining critical injuries from the engagement.”
“Tell Hampton to send what help she can to Lieutenant Viers.”
“Affirmative. Warning: new drone ships detected within vicinity of Providence and the mutant camp.”
Alexandra scoffed as an engineer peeled away his right forearm’s plating to repair the nano-wiring within. “They must have been trying to catch us with our pants down. EVA, triangulate drone ship coordinates and initiate surgical ion cannon strikes against them. Stage three, wide spread. Use surgical stage two if the mutants or Providence are close enough to suffer collateral damage.”
“Launching ion cannon strikes. Incoming transmission from: Doctor Richard Wesley, InOps.”
“Put him through.”
Wesley’s smiling face greeted him. “Commander Alexandra! I take it you have our jammer situation sorted out already?”
“Yeah, it was fine, Wesley. How are the ponies doing?” he asked, grunting in pain as the engineers peeled off his smoking right gauntlet and giving him breathing room to flex his raw hand.
“Well, they did not react kindly to our reaction to the jammer. OP Castle was put on full alert and we had to lock down the city gates, and there’s a lot of gossip going around now speaking how we were under attack. Well, not here, but you understand what I mean. We could hear the fight all the way up here.”
“So long as they’re fine,” he said, glancing at the right side of the screen as he saw Twilight talking to Wesley in the background. “You have a visitor, doc.”
Wesley looked over his shoulder, nodding reassuringly as Twilight. “Yes, I know. I’ll tell him.” He looked back to Alexandra and gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, she’s quite excitable about this. Princess Celestia has announced that she has a plan in motion for increased cooperation between Equestria and the ISDI!”
“News to me,” Alexandra said bluntly. “What does she have in mind?”
“Three words: pony zone troopers.”
“I hope she intends for talks in greater detail in this, because I haven’t approved anything yet...”
“Oh, of course, commander. Apologies for putting this on you, but she was quite curious after seeing how we produced one for Twilight, and absolutely would not back down. Judging by the reactions from her own soldiers, I’d say that they wouldn’t be averse to spending some more time outside, too.”
Twilight returned and spoke to him again before disappearing in a flash of light. “And when are these talks, exactly?”
“Right now, actually, Wesley said. “But these aren’t the official ones, just in-house discussion as they pick who to send as their representative unit. The real one will be at a time of your choosing, and after we...” Wesley looked up, away from the screen, and grimaced. “I see the Methuselah’s weapon systems uplink is back online.”
“And just in time, too,” Alexandra said with a chuckle. “You’re right: I’ll decide on a time later. Right now, though, I should probably get this suit repaired.”
“Of course, sir. Thank you for taking this meeting into consideration.”
“I think they’ll do all right. Just have to give them the chance. And in any case, having both the pony mutants and the Equestrians on our side might work out in our favor during the long run.”
“That’s what I hope, too, sir. Have a fine day. Be sure to drop by the medical clinic I’ve set up here in the city when you get the chance.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. See you later, doc.”
“Until then, Commander Alexandra.”
Alexandra rested his head against the wall as he snapped his free hand’s fingers at Masterson. “So, Henry, how interested are you in visiting Canterlot again?”
“Otiiisssssssssss! Sic ‘em, boy!” Trixie shouted.
Otis let out a mighty roar, rearing onto his hind legs before slamming them into the ground in challenge. The Scrin forces’ fire did nothing to him, as the disintegrators’ plasma only seemed to glance off of his thick hide. Retaliation from the ursa was swift and deadly, as not even in numbers could they escape the surefire destruction of a falling angry paw.
“Yankee, disperse!” Rosky shouted. The four troopers of Yankee took cover behind the rocks alongside the mutants, whose own militia took up their positions in the entrenchments outside of their camp.
Viers jetted around the flanks of the camp’s defenses, avoiding the spike traps that the disintegrators detoured from. The buzzers, however, had no such qualms, and promptly ate away at the static traps as the mutants returned fire admirably, taking down many in the process.
“Heron One to Dagger, come in, Dagger.”
“Dagger copies, Heron One, glad to see you here. Pick targets and engage, but be aware of friendlies maintaining positions near the shiner town’s gates. Your objective is to stop anything from getting too close from their lines. Ignore the bear, he’s here to help.”
“Copy, Dagger, and... whoa, that is one big bear.”
“Gawk at it later, we have Scrin to kill.”
“No! No, Otis, the flying metal birds are here to help! Okay, boy? They’re here to help!” Trixie shouted as Otis roared at the Havocs flying past overhead. “Otis! I mean it! Do not hurt them, or you’ll have to sleep outside tonight!”
“The bear appears to be trying to attack us, Dagger, please advise.”
“Let it sit, they’re trying to keep him on a leash. Space yourself if you need to, but we need those disintegrators flushed out, pronto.”
“Roger, Dagger, circling around now. Confirm visual on targets, EVA should be painting them for you shortly.”
True to his word, EVA lit up three congregations of disintegrators holding their position in the trees, most of their fire focused upon trying to futilely wound the ursa swatting at the buzzers like literal flies. “Dagger confirms visual. Wipe them out.”
“With pleasure. Missiles away.”
Heron zipped over the trees and left a line of destruction in their wake. Viers rolled down the incline behind him, using the break in sight to get himself closer to the disintegrators. Residual explosions from the broken parts of disintegrators were all that remained, and he spent the remaining time darting from one to another planting a shot within each of the carcasses to ensure the finality of their demise.
“Yankee Lead to Dagger, the buzzers have been cleared out. EVA seems to be back up and running now. No targets within the immediate vicinity, sir.”
“Good,” Viers said, scraping off Tiberium-stained mud from the bottom of his boot as he stepped across scraps of bent metal and frayed wiring. “How are our friends doing?”
“The bear’s calmed down, at least. Seems to be a bit edgy, though. If you can see from where I’m at, he’s trying to swipe at Heron again.”
“First time with the Scrin. I would be surprised if he wasn’t. I’m on my way back. Tell Trixie to keep that guy heeled before he ends up doing some real damage.” He looked around himself, surveying the deeper forest behind him as he frowned. “Get all the ponies back into the village, and put the rest of your squad on the walls.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Heron, return to base. We’re done here.”
“Roger that, Dagger, returning to base.”
Trixie was in the process of giving Otis a stern talking-to when Viers returned. “Otis! You do not hurt our friends, okay? They are here to help us! Help you! Imagine what it would be like when you can finally have a full stomach of fresh fruits and berries, none of the sort of unpleasant foods we’ve had to harvest here!”
Otis growled apologetically. “I think he gets the message, Trixie,” Viers said. “But I’ll put in a good word to the commander about bringing down a load of fresh fruit just for the ursa.”
“That would help far more than you can imagine,” Trixie said, sighing as she ran a hoof through her mane and plopped down onto the ground. She watched with a neutral expression as Yankee lifted themsevles to the wall on watch duty as Sergeant Rosky led the ponies back into the camp. “Much of our food is spent keeping Otis barely satiated. He’s a big bear, and he’s only growing bigger. I fear that without your help, we eventually won’t be able to sustain his diet and will be forced to... make a decision to his continued presence in our camp.”
Viers walked up to the unicorn, letting her gesture to Otis to return to camp before he spoke. “Expanding the farms you have is probably too much trouble as it is, huh?” he said.
She laughed sadly and pawed at the dirt with her hoof. “You’ve seen how the land is around here... we can barely get by as it is. Much of our food is magically-grown, meaning that we have unicorns that aid the growing process around the clock. It’s incredibly tiresome, but it is what it is.”
Trixie wrapped the cloak around her shoulders tighter against herself and stood as Viers wordlessly followed. Ponies clamored to shut the gates after they entered, sealing the Scrin-laden stretch of the camp’s approach away from the eyes of the prying youngsters as they were finally let out of their homes.
“Trixie!” one of them said. “We heard Otis roaring out there! Is it true he squashed them like bugs?”
“Indeed, he did,” Trixie said, smiling over the foals’ heads as Otis settled back into his bed at the opposite end of the camp. “He fended off the attackers as if it were nothing! A fierce swipe and dozens fell before him!”
The foals whispered excitedly to each other, stifling their giggles before they thanked Trixie for her work and dispersed to play. The casual capture of normalcy put a smile on her face, but she wasn’t the only one who noticed. “They don’t seem too fazed by this, are they?” Viers said, still acutely aware of the battle they’d fought not only moments before.
“We’ve put our heart and soul into protecting what we have, and we don’t intend to fail any time soon,” Trixie said. “It’s because of that absolute trust they put in us that they’ve grown accepting of the daily life that we now go through. The foals seem to have taken to it better than most.”
“It must have been a hard choice for you all, ending up out here,” he said.
“There wasn’t one,” she said simply. She led him back into a nearby hut, expansive inside as tables lined the space as a crude mess hall. Her magic carefully removed the improvised plates of armor on her torso and neck, placing them gently on the table as she took a seat upon the hard wooden bench. “There were... divisions, even among the refugee city in Canterlot. Those who were already infected were treated badly by those who weren’t. Fear and distrust spread, and it wasn’t long before suspicious deaths started to occur. It was a nightmare, almost as if we were through Discord’s reign of terror again.”
“So you decided staying wasn’t worth it, and you led them out here?” Viers ended for her.
“Myself? No, there was no way I could have possibly done any of this myself,” she said modestly. “There was a time when I thought I could... but it wasn’t just myself that saw the problems we had, and would have to bear in the coming months. We convened meetings, talked it over numerous times, and decided that trading what we had for relative safety behind the walls of Canterlot for the freedom from persecution from our own kin was for the greater good.”
“There are some very disturbing similarities here,” Viers said, kneeling down in front of her, bringing them to eye-to-eye. “At the onset of the Tiberium outbreak on our world, mutants were regarded much in the same way. Healthy people were in fear of being infected themselves, and cast out those unfortunate enough to be caught with it.”
“Then I hope I shouldn’t have to explain our dire situation at further length,” she said. The lone cook approached her with a shoddily-crafted with a pitcher of water, silently bowing before returning to her station. “Water. How easy it is to appreciate the simple things when you live long enough without them.”
“I definitely understand that,” Viers said, watching as Trixie helped herself to cup after cup with gusto. “Er, is that water... purified?”
She finished off the last of her water with a smack of her lips. “It is purified. We had a naturalist pony here who had experience living off of the land, and built us some basic filters. We also boil the water, too, just in case.”
“That’s helpful. Is he still with you?”
“No. He died... several weeks ago, long before you showed up. One of our scavenging runs did not turn out well, and his group in particular returned with only one. The fool,” she said sadly. “He was convinced that there was something occurring out there. He brought his group too far north, and they paid the price for it.”
“Did he find anything, though? Or was it all for nothing?”
“As far as the well-being of our camp went, it was absolutely for naught. In terms of knowledge, however, it was...” She leaned forward. “The evidence was faulty at best, terrifying at worst.” She cradled the cup of water between her hooves, staring down at the dull metal that produced a broken reflection of the mare staring at it.
Viers leaned in closer, giving her time to breathe as Trixie’s breathing had grown hard. Her throat felt dry, and she bid the chef to bring her more water as she nursed her head with a hoof and a thought to drive the demons away.
“What happened out there, Trixie?”
“Dragons,” she hissed. “The old stallion was right. There was something out there, but... th-they saw us. Swooped in behind us, before we noticed, cooked half of our group alive before any of us could react. The rest of us... we... we ran. As quickly as our hooves could take us.”
Viers bit his tongue; unicorns and pegasi, and now dragons. Dangerous ones, apparently, ones that could breathe the kind of fire that the Inferno Corps could only wish they had. “Trixie... I know it’s tough for you... but I need to know the details. It’s important that we know about this, important to our whole war effort as a whole. What were they doing here in the valley?”
“I don’t know,” she said, leaning her head down upon her neck and holding back her tears. “It was... I don’t know. There wasn’t just one dragon. There were... oh, Celestia be blessed that it wasn’t a dozen, a dozen wouldn’t have left anyone alive. But there were more than one, and they were here, for some reason. I think... I think they brought something with them.”
Viers clenched his jaw. “This object, Trixie... were you able to see it? Any part of it?”
“It was large, very large. One of the dragons carried it in his arms when he brought it in. It was purple... almost like the magical kind, actually. We... never saw them again after that. Maybe that was for the best.”
He put a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, that’s more than enough. If you ever feel like talking about it... you can talk to me.”
“Thank you...” she said somberly. “I hope what I had to offer could help.”
“It definitely helped,” he said. He retrieved the cannon from its place on the ground, exiting the mess hall and leaving Trixie to her thoughts. Circumventing the standard comm channels, he had but one order to give to EVA. “Get me Commander Alexandra.”
“You... you wished to see me, Princess?” Blueblood made no attempt at being casual, well aware of the reason why he had been called to the throne room following his confinement. Guards trailed along next to him, ready to take him down at a moment’s notice if he would grow unruly.
“I did,” Celestia replied. Standing next to her throne were the Sparkle siblings: Captain Shining Armor on one side, and Twilight Sparkle—who stared daggers at him through her helmet’s transparent faceplate—on the other. “I have been lenient with your actions for far too long. The trouble that you and your entourage have caused has done far more damage to our peace than any monster can ever hope to achieve.”
“I...” Blueblood could say nothing, knowing that his general reputation had soured the moods of citizens against him. While he had been fortunate enough to be confined to his castle quarters, the rest of his group had been thrown into the dungeons, and he had no wish to join them.
“So we have convened here to discuss the matters of your punishment,” Celestia continued. Blueblood felt a chill tingle down his spine as she looked down upon him with a judging eye. “And I do believe we have a rather outstanding option that should keep you well occupied for the better part of your coming days. Captain Armor, if you would, please.”
Shining cleared his throat. “As you are a noble-born unicorn,” he began, “the amount of magical training as befitting those of high birth has given you a magical aptitude that most unicorns that we have, even in the ranks of the Equestrian Royal Guard, can only barely hope to match. Among the training that you’ve received, the use of magic in combat was one of them, and you passed your exam with excellent marks. Am I correct?”
“You are correct,” Blueblood said.
“Then our decision stands. Prince Blueblood, as of this moment, you are hereby conscripted into the Equestrian Royal Guard. You will be placed under the leadership of Sergeant Firetrace, whose orders you will obey to the best of your ability. Failure to do so will result in severe disciplinary action, up to and including corporal punishment.”
Blueblood nodded nervously, thankful to be assigned mundane guard duty than to be thrown at the crueler mercy of his other aunt, who was fortunately not present at the meeting. “Th-thank you, Captain Armor, I will fulfill my duties as completely as possible.”
“Furthermore,” Shining continued with mixture of irritation and restrained amusement at what was to come, “Sergeant Firetrace’s squad is within the jurisdiction of my company. After an intensive discussion with Princess Celestia and Princess Cadance, I have volunteered my unit to be the first to enter in a military coalition with our newfound allies.”
“To put it bluntly, Blueblood,” Twilight said matter-of-factly. “You’re going to war.”
“Yes,” Celestia added with a sagely nod. “Captain Armor’s company will be the first to integrate themselves with the human military forces. Many of our soldiers here have expressed their discomfort at the endless guard duty and the desire to do more for Equestria, so this will be our first foray in many months to reclaim the lands outside of Canterlot. You will be among them, Blueblood.”
“And with the recent sighting of the aliens on our world,” Shining said, “none too soon. With luck, the integration will proceed smoothly as we hope to acquire the protective suits the human soldiers use to aid our own in the field, and perhaps fight alongside them, as well.”
A bead of cold sweat trickled down the side of Blueblood’s face, his mouth babbling incoherencies as he processed the notion. “B-but, auntie...” he finally managed, but Celestia held up a hoof to stop him.
“Hush, Blueblood,” she said. “Reap now what you have sown. You will report to Royal Guard Headquarters tomorrow at six in the morning, on the dot. I need not remind you what will happen if you fail to keep this obligation...”
The noblepony hung his head in shame, as the lack of a response and an imperceptible nod from Celestia brought forth the guards standing attentively behind him. One let out a quiet whisper of an order in Blueblood’s ear, and he turned away, the guards leading him out of the throne room. As soon as the titanic doors had closed after them, Twilight let out a sigh of relief.
“Finally,” she said. “It’s nice to see that moron gets what he deserves.”
“Now that we have that matter concluded,” Celestia said, “Twilight, I would like for you to deliver the news to Doctor Wesley, and perhaps arrange for transportation. I would like to visit Luna.”
“Of course, Princess,” Twilight obliged, teleporting away as soon as her sentence had ended.
“I have to admit,” Shining said, stretching his shoulders. “It’s good to finally be able to do something aside from playing shield bearer. I’m glad to see that I haven’t lost too much of my strength... being in that room all the time was an exercise in patience. But I guess being tired helped speed things along.”
“Are you still sure about this?” Celestia asked him. “I know of the restlessness the soldiers have, but perhaps stepping from protection to actual fighting is far too great a change.”
“I’ll make sure they’re ready for it. I’ll begin drills tomorrow, focusing on the combat techniques. Pegasus and earth ponies will have to relegate themselves to finishing enemies off, while the unicorns will do the brunt of the work with their magic. If we can get the suits, though, we can even out the combat potential of the whole company. Especially with those weapons.”
“Always vigilant,” Celestia said with a knowing smile. “I trust you’ve already spoken to Cadance about this?”
Shining snorted. “After our previous meeting, yes. She... wasn’t too fond of me going out to play soldier so soon after coming out of recovery. I’m a hardy stallion, I can handle myself.”
“That’s what she’s worried about.” Celestia stood, nodding to all the guards as she descended from her throne and waited for Shining to follow. “I hope our meeting with Commander Alexandra goes well.”
The resulting chuckle from him caught her off-guard. “I sure hope so,” he said. “A couple of the guards have been excited to get their hooves on those human weapons for some time now...”