“Captain Bill, we have a visual on the VIP” a naval observer said.
“Good, is he doing well?” Capt. Bill said.
“Sir, it seems he lost his right arm,” the observer responded.
“If I know Joe, it's nothing but a blow to his ego,” the Captain responded coolly.
Joe approached at a light jog, longing for a replacement arm. As he entered the harbor, he saw the massive Iowa-class warship waiting, guns poised in a non-alarming manner. Joe tapped the side of his helmet twice then shook his head, signaling a bad mic. “Send a landing craft to get him,” the Captain ordered in response. Joe waited, seeing the hovercraft approach. It was not traveling at its top speed, which eased Joe. He knew that the Victory had her finger on the trigger for a while, which might have evoked a new war. Once the craft hit the sand, amidst the beach-goers, it dropped its ramp. A lone ensign waited for Joe. “Taking me back already, or did you just miss me?” Joe joked.
“The higher-ups just wanted someone to put on the chopping block,” the ensign joked as well.
“Come on Green, let's go home,” Joe said as he boarded.
Once the reunited squadmates landed on board the Tempest, a cheery Captain greeted Joe with a smile on his face. “Good to see you! I started thinking this might have turned into another Scorpii Event,” Captain Bill responded.
“Billiam, you know that was a long time ago,” Joe replied.
“I thought I told you to stop calling me that a long time ago as well,” Capt. Bill responded in a joking manner.
“Let's go back up and see what the Victory can tell us about getting home,” Joe responded.
The ship's intercom buzzed to life, “This is Capt. Evans, we do not possess what we need to return home. It looks like we're staying here for a while, get comfortable. Our engines will be operational in three more days, but we will still need to find a way back before we can set out for the homefront. If you have any information that could assist in this matter, report to the bridge of the Victory. Your help is very much appreciated. Dismissed.”
“Guess we will have time for that airshow. Will the Golden Knights be ready, I know the Blue Angels are,” Joe said, turning to Bill.
“I've been training them thoroughly, and they have never failed to please. They're ready,” the old captain said to his long-time friend.
“Great! You can consider us even after what happened on Reach, okay?” Joe responded, leveling the debt the Captain owed him.
“You know I would've said yes to this even if I didn't owe you any,” the captain responded.
“Yeah, but frankly, I would've owed you one if you kept track of the favors,” Joe responded in a cheerful manner.
“You counted Madrigal? I thought that we settled that five years ago, back on Installation 03,” Bill replied.
“Oh, right. Guess I forgot about taking that annoying monitor off your hands,” Joe joked.
“Hey, Lieutenant! Report that the VIP is secure and en route to the Victory,” Bill ordered to a nearby liaison officer, who promptly left.
“Capt. Evans, the Tempest reports a mission success. The sergeant is secure and en route via Shortsword,” the communications officer said to the not-present Captain.
“Excellent! Have him sent up here as soon as he is ready,” Evans ordered.
“Yessir!” the officer responded.
After landing, Joe muttered to himself, “It never gets any easier to fly one-handed...” Joe opened the releases for the cockpit and stepped out. As soon as his feet hit the titanium deck, Joe started walking towards the barracks. Once there, he went to his cot, and pulled the personal effects box out from underneath it. Inside, Joe found his old and tattered dress uniform, a “dress” M1911, his family sword, a picture of the squad in a “Gung-ho” pose, and finally, a spare arm. Joe withdrew the arm, closing the box of nostalgia and sliding it back underneath the cot. Joe reattached the arm to his shoulder. It took a little while, but his arm reconfigured to Joe's previous settings. A runner entered the barracks, “Sir, the Captain wants you on the bridge as soon as you're ready.”
To this, Joe responded, “Tell Evans I'll be right there. Also, send word to engineering that I need another spare arm, and will be there for fitting after I'm done on the bridge.”
“Yes, sir,” the runner left.
“Maybe I should have Rarity take a look at that old dress uniform, she might be able to bring it back to its prime,” Joe muttered to himself. Joe proceeded to grab another set of armor, to conceal his prosthetic. Once everything was settled, Joe started to leave the barracks, only to have his squad enter through the same door. “Kraut, Pizza, Green, Moose, Bookworm, Snafu, Rookie! Am I glad to see you! I was just headed to see the Captain, probably just a mission debrief. How has life been treating you?” Joe said.
“Aside from landing headfirst on the drop, pretty well,” the Rookie responded, “The Captain wanted my full report due to the use of fissile materials on the last op, and he will likely want your report as well, seeing as you lost a perfectly good Broadsword.”
“He is not in the kindest mood, be careful what you tell him,” Moose warned.
“He wanted to know why I was shooting instead of patching, but I still believe I had bigger problems on the ground,” Bookworm said.
“It took my neural implant to make him believe I was pulling my own weight,” Pizza said.
“Seeing as I was still armed, it seems to make sense that he didn't question my use of the bursting rounds,” Snafu said, still toting his rocket launcher.
“He wanted my report first, with the rest of the squad, save Rookie, watching as well. He seemed to rather enjoy the part where we charged into the city, just after your flyover,” Kraut responded.
“He is still giving me crap over my name,” Green said.
“So I should definitely watch where I leap?” Joe asked. The squad simply nodded their heads in response. “Talk to you later, I gotta run,” Joe concluded.
“See you later,” the squad replied, then departed.
Joe marched into the bridge, with a disgruntled and annoyed Captain waiting for him. “Sir, you called for me?” Joe asked.
“Yes. Get your squad ready. The report the Rookie gave me, and the footage Kraut displayed, shows that the... enemy has a base of some kind to the far Southwest of our embassy. I'm sending you down to capture a few of those insectoid freaks and bring them back here for interrogation,” Captain Evans informed.
“Sir, that would violate the parameters for which our embassy may be maintained. The same parameters allowed me to escape after I was capture for breaking such regulations. If you want the mission done, we will need to suffer casualties before we can launch an offensive,” Joe countered.
“Fair enough. Get the enemy to attack, then don't relent. We need to know why we're here, and they may know more than we do. Also, all remaining historic aircraft and weapons have been moved groundside. All ODST squads are going groundside via Pelican transport. All other aircraft and equipment will remain here,” Evans responded.
“Sir,” Joe said as he turned to leave.
Once outside the bridge, Joe found his squad waiting there. “We heard everything,” Pizza remarked.
“Sounds like something big is about to happen,” Moose said.
“That's a bridge we'll cross when we reach it. Let's get ready,” Joe said.
“Beat you to the punch there, sir,” Kraut said as he handed Joe his M16A10.
The squad arrived in the hangar bay, the Pelicans were fueled and ready for hot drops. The ODSTs loaded up the robust birds with as many munitions as it could carry. The pilot, Murphy, said, “Easy, we can't carry much more.” Once the green light for the drop burned bright, Murphy told the crews, “Kick the door,” and the bird dropped like a stone. Joe walked into the cockpit of the dropship, and saw dozens of other Pelicans descending groundside as well. The clouds of the upper atmosphere were approaching rather quickly. He saw the characteristic red burn near the nose of one of the Pelicans, which marked an atmospheric entry. Joe moved toward the back, and told his squad, “Alright, prep for landing. The LZ is our embassy down there. Remember, this is a capture mission, suppressed weapons only.” Joe fitted a silencer onto his rifle, and sat down with the rest of the squad.
A surge of Gs rudely informed the team that they were pulling out of the bullet dive. When the squad was pulled toward the front of the aircraft, they knew they had landed. Joe stepped out as the back door was lowering. He was stunned at what lay before him. The embassy, or what was left of it, was a burning pile of rubble. The Rookie said, “Did Celestia do this?”
Joe responded, “Let's try to find out what happened.” Joe walked forward, and found some sickly-green semi-acidic liquid amongst some of the wreckage. There was also several characteristic scratches on the rubble. “Rookie, I think this was the Changeling's responsibility. Where are the guards we had stationed here?” Joe said.
“I don't know, they should have greeted us when we stepped off of the Pelicans,” the Rookie responded.
“There are also some signs of a Timber Wolf attack here,” Joe informed.
“I'll go and talk to Zecora, maybe she knows what happened here,” the Rookie departed.
“Men, this may very well have turned into a rescue op. When we're in their hive, keep an eye out for any Marines. They may have been captured,” Joe told his squad, minus the Rookie.
Joe took a small group of Moose, Pizza, and Bookworm out on a patrol. “Moose, Pizza, Bookworm. We are going to need a few Changeling POWs for the interrogation. Bookworm, try to keep them healthy, but if we encounter any Marines, the Marines take priority. Moose, you need to carry the buggers out. Pizza, you'll go in for the grab, remember to choke them out. I'll be playing overwatch for you,” Joe divided the duties amongst the patrol.
Pizza took point, and the others followed. They entered the grotesque and slimy caves that were embedded in the mountains. Joe took note of the distance and direction to the embassy; 1500 meters to the West. “Night vision,” Joe whispered, and the squad switched optics. The four entered a large chamber deep within the mountain. Inside they saw hundreds of Changelings on the walls. “Camo,” Joe whispered, and the squad vanished. Watching eachother's footprints, the squad progressed further, looking for easy targets.
“Hold,” Pizza ordered, the squad stopped, “Do you hear that?”
“Sounds like a low rumble. Must be something big,” Bookworm whispered.
“Remember the mission. We need to keep moving,” Moose interjected.
As they progressed further, a definitive clopping sound could be heard nearby. Pizza poised himself just around the corner from the ever-nearing sound, getting ready to pounce. He pulled back just as he saw what the sound was. It was a patrolling Timber Wolf. The sentry passed unscathed. “What are they doing here?” Pizza said at a low whisper, just as the wooden enemy left audible range.
“Seeing how the Changelings are smarter than we thought, maybe they tamed the Timber Wolves?” Joe said.
“Let's hope not,” Moose countered.
The squad moved further through the winding paths, the rumble getting louder and the earth started shaking as they approached. The squad entered another chamber. Inside, they saw glistening gems and precious metals of all varieties. Atop this bountiful mound of greed, lay a red dragon. “This will make for an interesting report,” Moose said. The squad moved further, still on the search for Changelings with their guard down. Almost in the center of the mountain, the squad entered the last chamber. What was within shocked Joe. Queen Chrysalis was at her throne. “I thought the Rookie vaporized her with the HAVOK. This is something big,” Joe said.
Chrysalis ordered one of the Changelings off, and they were headed straight for the cloaked squad. Pizza, in position, pounced the Changeling as soon as he rounded the next corner. Moose carried the limp hostage out of the tunnel, as the other three stayed.
“Follow me,” said Bookworm, taking point. The squad followed, though with some hesitation. “I think I saw something. Possibly nothing, it looked like a shadow moving across shadows. It's hard to describe, but my stomach turned over when I saw this,” Bookworm informed Joe and Pizza.
The squad followed Bookworm, who in turn followed the shadow among shadows. The trio entered a side passageway, and Bookworm started running. A point of light appeared toward the end of the tunnel, and the squad's night vision automatically switched off. They approached the light, only for it to vanish with a rusty screech and a metallic slam. Under the hatch, Pizza lifted it open a crack. Joe looked through as well. What they saw arose more questions than answers. The fascist king himself, Sombra, was standing before a conference. The board was not just of ponies, but of ponies, griffons, dragons, changelings, etc.
Just behind the conference board, Joe spotted some Marines. “Those guys are from Spear outfit,” Pizza informed.
“The same boys who were guarding the embassy...” Joe muttered.
“Those Marines are banged up pretty bad, but those chains seem rather brittle,” Bookworm analyzed.
An inspired Joe removed the laser sight on his rifle, and turned it on. He pointed it at one of the Marines, who clearly saw the blue light. Joe uncloaked, and started signing commands to the Marine. Joe clasped a hand around his wrist, then made a chopping motion. He held up five fingers, and pulsed them thrice. He then held up both fist and blew them outward. He then pointed up at the hatch. Joe then held up two fingers, and then placed both hands over his eyes to mimic binoculars. He then covered both eyes with one flat hand. Joe then made an “O” with both hands, followed by a similarly made “D”. Joe then pulsed his laser light at the Marines face again, then Joe nodded. The Marine nodded back.
“What did you tell him?” Pizza asked.
“I told him to break his restraints in fifteen minutes, when this hatch is blasted apart. I'll leave two pairs of night vision goggles, because it is very dark in here. The Marines will need to follow the OD green chemical lights we leave behind,” Joe said, placing some C-12 on the underside of the hatch.
“Let's get out of here,” Bookworm said.
The trio started running, throwing down green lights every few feet, and at every corner. Pretty soon, the three found themselves outside. Moose was sitting on three Changelings. “A couple of them tried to jump me on my way out. Looks like we've got some more POWs,” Moose said.
“Get Force Recon on the line, we need a three fast getaway vehicles here in fifteen minutes,” Joe ordered. Moose quickly forwarded the response. As soon as the Mongooses arrived, an explosion could be heard. Shortly later, three Marines, stripped down to their skivvies, emerged from the imprisoning mountain.
“Hop on!” Joe yelled. The overloaded Mongooses charged through the Everfree, each carrying three passengers, save one carrying a fourth. The Force Recon scouts had driven them there via remote. The battered Marines were still bleeding profusely.
“Charlie company, this is Rescue patrol. We are in bound and have casualties. I repeat; we have casualties. Prepare the medical facilities for three. Get a Huey prepped for flight, and tell Force Recon thanks for the 'Gooses,” Joe ordered.
The three Mongooses streaked through the forest. The explosion caused enough chaos to draw the enemy toward themselves rather than the escapees. The 'Gooses charged toward the embassy, and ground to a halt infront of the medical tent. The medics carried off the wounded guardsmen as soon as they arrived. “All MIA Marines accounted for,” Joe said, “Now where's that Huey!”
A private pointed him toward the helicopter, which had it's blades running already. Joe grabbed the three unconscious Changelings, and told Moose, “Get three chairs, some rope, and three bungee cords. You'll be the good cop, I'll be the bad cop.”
Later, in flight, Joe set the helicopter to hover at 300 meters in the air. The Changelings awoke, only to find themselves tied to the folding chairs, with their wings also tied down. They couldn't see the bungee cord attached to their chairs, it was attached to the back legs. Joe walked in to greet the POWs. “We have a game we'd like to play, it's called 'Who Talks First'. It's simple really, whoever talks first doesn't have this happen to them,” Joe sad, rather sadistically, as he kicked one of the Changelings out of the helicopter. “Ooh, we rarely get to see that kind of a splatter this high up, brains everywhere! Or, would you two rather play 'Bleeder, Bleeder on the Floor'? Mr. Slicy has been very thirsty recently,” Joe said as he drew a meat cleaver out from behind his back.
The Changelings started yelling, “NO!!!”
“No? Alright, who's gonna talk: you, or you,” Joe replied, tilting each chair forward as he designated its occupant.
The Changelings started cowering in fear, quivering each time Joe took a step. The pulse of sound from the metal-to-metal pace striking them at their hearts. Just then, Moose stepped in from the cockpit.
“What the hay are you doing?! We can't just kill these guys, they are POWs! Get back to your seat, you're way out of line!” Moose yelled at Joe.
The two helmeted figures passed one another, and a look of relief swept across the Changeling POWs. Moose stepped toward the POWs. “I can't let you go until we have somepony to put the blame on. My friend won't have it. We found possible evidence hinting at a Timber Wolf attack on our embassy, but we know that they couldn't have been alone. The men we left there were some of the toughest we have. I need you to tell us everything, otherwise my friend will have to take his frustration out on the next best thing,” Moose said in a soothing and relaxing tone. Just like that, the Changelings spilled the beans.
Groundside, the rest of the squad help unload the POWs as soon as they landed. “You'll get three hot meals a day, showers every other, and plenty of time to sit down and think,” Green said as they pulled the Changelings out of the helicopter. Rainbow Dash appeared, carrying the third Changeling. “What, you thought we'd actually hurt you? I can tell you right now that we will never physically hurt any prisoners. Psychologically, though, is a different story. I would say that your comrades won't take too kindly to you telling us everything about their plans, so if you do escape, where will you go?” Green added.
The three Changelings adopted looks of disappointment at this remark. The Rookie returned, seeing the Changelings being carried away. “I guess that you used 'Who Talks First?' on them, judging from the bungee cords. Anyway, I talked with Zecora, and she told me that it was a coalition that attacked the embassy. That hostile coalition consists of at least: dragons, Timber Wolves, and Changelings. There may be more,” The Rookie commented.
“That confirms what the interrogation yielded. We also saw Sombra, and some defector ponies and griffons while we snatched the Changelings. We also spotted Chrysalis. How do you think she survived the blast?” Joe informed.
“Possibly the same way I survived, teleportation. She probably used some teleportation magic just after I teleported, but before the HAVOK went off,” the Rookie answered.
“Alright, mission complete. Let's head back up to the-” A massive explosion high above interrupted Joe. “-Victory...”
The descending fireball bore the silhouette of the decorated battleship. “Victory, do you read me!” Kraut yelled into his mic. “Victory, please respond!”
A garbled response came, “This is... Evans... Victory... hostiles on board... the moon... life pods... attacked... Evans... signing off... for the last time.” The fireball met the horizon. The transmission went dark. The Victory has been defeated.