//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1 - The Price Of Containment 
// Story: Future Tactics - The War Games 
// by TheFullCrumb 
//------------------------------//

	3302 AD  – Kepler/Town of Cradle

War, war never changes. 

Five hundred years had passed since the initial discovery of the Kepler, although the Equestrian government attempted to keep it under wraps, the data under strict supervision due to the nature of the research. Some advancements were shared with other countries throughout Equus, while most were kept on site. Star Swirl, now over six hundred years old, looked over his data, double-checking authentication techniques. Every new section of data that came from the partially unlocked database of a race of creatures known as 'Humans', every new discovery, all of it was checked for feasibility with the level of science that Equestria was at. A tap on his shoulder alerted him to a guard. The guard wore a simple, tight-fitting combat suit, wearing a gas mask. His weapon harness was one of the newer designs, a Hurricane Industries AR-5 semi-automatic rifle harness.

“Ah, Sergeant Point. I was wondering when you would return. I need these schematics sent down to the engineers. We might be able to bring some of the Kepler's systems online if we link one of our generators to it.” Point lifted the papers that Star Swirl motioned to, nodding before leaving. Unit 3 entered the room, various implements floating beside it.

“Star Swirl, you requested adjustment to your implants?” He nodded, pointing at his eye. The normally blue lights were blinking red, signifying an issue. Unit 3 shrugged, and went to work on the offending piece of machinery. Star Swirl leaned back, letting the chair he sat in lean back to accommodate Unit 3's adjustments.

“It's been five hundred years. I mean, I hope my sister's descendants are doing well for themselves. I never talked to her much. Did you ever meet her? Vanilla Swirl... sweetest mare you would ever meet. She had a love of cream and vanilla. She invented ice cream here on Equus, you know.” Unit 3 removed a small shard of metal lodged in between two circuits, allowing nano-machines to repair the eye. 

“Your body seems to be taking to the implants very well.  The exchange of your skeletal structure from bone to enhanced metallic structures, that would have normally been allotted seven hours, but for you, we were completed with the replacement in four.” Star Swirl's ear began to beep loudly, signaling that Princess Luna was contacting him. In his vision, a holographic display of Luna appearing.

“You wanted to speak with me, Star Swirl?” A camera drone floated in front of him, keeping his face in view. Star Swirl pushed it back, lifting up a set of schematics. They appeared to detail out a primitive gasoline-driven machine, a piloted mechanized suit. Luna's eyes grew wide as she studied the designs.

“What manner of machine is this? We have seen your other designs, and while they are incorporated into our already robust scientific advancements, I do not know if this one is really such a good idea.” Luna shifted nervously, continuing to study the schematics.

“Dear Princess, the machine itself would more likely be used in construction than combat. It is an early construction mechanized suit. We could arm it, if need be, but for now, we could construct them for assistance in constructing the Cradle.” Luna cocked her head to the side, confusion setting in. She had not heard of the 'Cradle' before.

“What is this 'Cradle?'” Star Swirl smiled, allowing the camera drone to float towards a camera feed from the outside of the Kepler. A small town had begun to take shape, ponies of all manners wandering to-and-fro as they continued construction. Most of the construction was designated factories to produce the more advanced machines that the Cradle would be privy to.

“The city that is springing up around the Kepler. Advanced technology has its allure, and ponies from all over wanting to make a fresh start where they can be whatever they want are arriving.” The video feed ended as Luna nodded, terminating the call from her end. “Unit 3, remind me again why you are a pony, instead of looking like the humans you arrived with?” Unit 3 stood still, a little unsure of how to proceed.

“... your species is the dominant species of the planet... and I locked myself out of manufacturing after I built this platform.” Unit 3’s right hoof split open and retracted partway into his foreleg, a mechanical hand now in its place. Star Swirl shuddered at the sight of the mechanical appendage as Unit 3 withdrew a syringe from a container.

“Another dose? I guess it's necessary if I have to continue my work.” The black liquid inside began to move, as if with its own will.

“Different. These will reconstitute organs into appropriate mechanical equivalents. You will be almost immortal, but not invincible.” Star Swirl nodded, rolling onto his stomach. Unit 3 injected the liquid through a port in the implants on the back of Star Swirl's neck. Star Swirl nodded, leaving his work alone. 

“I guess I should lie down, wait for the machines to finish their work, yes?” Unit 3 nodded, allowing the wearied pony to return to a cot he had set up five hundred years ago.

--------====||====--------

The town of Cradle was bustling. Ponies from all walks of life were either part of a construction detail working on a metal scaffolding that was beginning to surround the Kepler on all sides, or were a part of the industry below, smelters and smithies working non-stop to produce the metal and materials to keep up the construction. Iron Hoof stepped outside of his forge, staring up at the desert sun. Five hundred years, and Cradle was still being constructed. Five hundred years, and they had only begun to reclaim a small portion of the desert. 

“Star Swirl's got it even rougher, I hear. Stuck inside that giant tin can. Can't be good for the old codger's health.” Iron turned to see a strange pony wearing the usual uniform of the Cradle military outpost, sand-coloured khakis with a tan combat vest, face-covering gas mask, and a helmet.

“Yeah, pretty bad for him. I hear he gets more mechanical every ten years or something like that.” The military pony turned, looking at Iron.

“Name's Private Long Shot. I don't think we've met.” Iron held out his hoof in a gesture of goodwill.

“Iron Hoof. I'm a smithy tasked with making parts for scaffolding. I can't believe they're actually planning on trying to rebuild that monstrous vessel.” He whistled, returning to his forge. Private Shot stood outside, staring up. Another military pony trotted by, alerting him to stand at the ready.

“Hold! Let me check your bags.” The military pony did not stop. Something was off. The way they were trotting... it was too stiff, like an imitation. It was... odd, to say the least. “Oi! Stop right there!” The pony stopped, turning back.

“I'm Sergeant Hollow Point, Private. I've been ordered to have my cargo sent directly to Princess Luna for decryption immediately.” Private Shot saluted, allowing Point to move on. When he was out of earshot, Point ducked into an alleyway, stripping off his uniform. At the end of the alleyway, he stopped, uncovering a tied-up pony, the real Hollow Point. He smiled as he removed the plans from the bags to examine them. 

“Yeah, I saw him go over- no, he said he was Hollow Point. Why he would need to go into an alleyway is- all right. Send back-up. Whoever it is might be dangerous.” 'Point' frowned. If his plan was detected, he would be discovered very quickly, and the plans taken away. His tribe needed resources, and if they could replicate the device displayed in the plans, they could sell a copy of the blueprints for a major amount of gold bullion. His mouth watered. Gold was the best part about the Cradle.  He heard hooves charging down the alleyway. With a quick flash, he disappeared, hiding Hollow Point once more.

“You said he came over this way? Private, are you absolutely sure?” Private Shot nodded, scratching his head. The other soldier with him lifted a radio, irritation in his voice. “Yeah, it's me. Listen, somepony pretending to be Hollow Point just made off with some blueprints from Star Swirl's lab- no, I don't know what's on them. Not in the alleyway, no sir. They can't have just- all right, I'll send my report to Luna directly.” Shot and his compatriot galloped away, their holstered weapons clanking as they moved. 'Point' breathed deep, dispelling the shadows he had cast over himself. His body was black, holes dotting his legs. A single, sickeningly sharp horn, like a scimitar, jutted from his forehead. Leaning over, he removed the gag from Hollow Point, who stared up at him.

“What are you? Disguises like that? What are-” 

“My name is Mystique, and before you keep thinking I'm male, I am not. Why I ever decided on a male is horrific.” She wiggled her rump in front of Point's face, eliciting an embarrassed look from him. 

“You're... a mare? But... you look like a bug-” She stuck her hoof in Point's mouth, quieting him.

“Now, we can't have you speaking anything of this, so I'll just wipe your memory of the last few days. The perfect alibi.” A single flash, and she was gone, Hollow Point unconscious in the alleyway, untied and unharmed. Mystique stood on the roof above him as soldiers arrived to investigate the sudden flash. She smiled, her magic flaring as she disappeared once more. Her hooves clattered on the clay tile roof. One began to come loose, forcing her to stop. It started to slide. “No... don't you dare...” The tile slid off the roof, crashing into the hard ground right beside Private Shot. Mystique silently cursed herself for being such a careless fool, galloping away. Private Shot's rifle was quickly readied, a scope sliding in front of his eye. Training his rifle, he aimed right where sliding tiles were coming from. Squeezing off a shot, he accidentally blew off more tiles. Mystique jumped, her concentration broken. Her spells dissipated, revealing her to the ponies below.

“Stop right there criminal scum!” Shot and two soldiers clambered up onto the roof after her. Shots sped past, slamming into tiles in front of her until a large mass detached, dragging her along with them. As she fell, a pony from the crowd galloped up, retrieving the bag from her. He wore a jacket, one that appeared much too large for him.

“My lady. I do apologize for this, but you know the penalty for revealing yourself.” A harness sprung from underneath the jacket, aiming a small pistol at her head. With a single shot, Mystique's grey matter was blown across the ground, the pony who shot her nowhere to be seen. Shot galloped up to the body, shaking his head.

“We're too late. Somepony got to her first. Whatever she was carrying, it most certainly came from inside the Kepler. We need to call this in to Luna. Whatever that was, it seemed to know what it was doing.” The other soldiers with him nodded, one lifting his radio to speak.

“Red-Actual, this is Red-1. The package is not secure, repeat, the package is not secure. Cover all exits and passages. We cannot allow this package to leave the Cradle.” 

--------====||====--------

The pony that had escaped with the plans ducked into an alleyway, stripping off his clothing as fast as he could. Underneath the jacket was a harness and standard desert survival gear, a water vest to survive the hot sun, a loose robe to allow for good ventilation, and a scarf that he immediately wrapped around his head. Removing the plans from the bag, he slid them inside his robe, making sure they were secure. Lifting a radio to his ear, he smiled.

“This is Forcystus. I have the package. I am moving to the rendesvous point.” Forcystus smiled.  Normally, if he had been hired to gain information for a group, he would have to kill many more than just the one he did. Silently inside, he was upset that more killing was not necessary, but he understood that he was supposed to be discreet. Even having to shoot that one changeling was reason enough for the soldiers to put the Cradle under lockdown.

“Forcystus, be warned. A sandstorm is approaching the Cradle. Do not leave the sanctuary of the town, or else you may be lost.” He sighed, pushing a door open. Inside was a plethora of empty crates, a cot, and a basic camping stove, complete with the gas required to run it. Equestrians had discovered natural gas, and by proxy, had discovered propane as well. It was effective, to say the least. Not as effective for heat and electricity as the Cradle's geothermal generator – he would have to get his hooves on those plans eventually. Stripping off his desert survival gear, he stood in front of a mirror he had found left outside. His dark brown coat was streaked with caked sand and mud, courtesy of the desert sun. Outside, he could hear the sandstorm raging as he laid down on his cot. Shivering in thought of those who may have gotten trapped outside during an Everfree Desert sandstorm, he quickly grew drowsy and fell into a slumber.

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Forcystus awoke to howling once more. The sandstorm had continued throughout the night, making certain that no ponies would be out. It would be suicide to attempt to leave the Cradle during a sandstorm. Only a military vehicle could even make it out in the sand. At least, only military vehicles before the design that was held in the plans he carried. Outside, amidst the howling and the constant grating of the sandstorm, he could barely hear the warning siren. It was still blaring, even though most ponies would be inside.

“And all of the nobles in Canterlot are sitting nice and cozy in their beds. I'd like to slit their throats someday.” Forcystus' radio began to crackle, garnering his full attention.

“...stus- Nove...- Tango...- connection's ba...” He could barely hear the message over the static. The long-holding problem of the desert. Almost as soon as a sandstorm rolled in, radio communication was almost instantaneously out. He picked up the radio, sighing.

“This is Forcystus, reading you more or less, November-Tango-Five-Five-Seven. You're just barely cutting through the sandstorm. Keep me posted.”

--------====||====--------

Inside the Kepler, the situation was less than desirable. Star Swirl was absolutely livid that a pony would impersonate a soldier, and steal plans for an experimental technology. Unit 3 attempted to make sure that Star Swirl was calm, but it was all for naught. He was angry, and he could not go out himself or else his connection to the Kepler's database would be severed.

“We have to send somepony out. Those plans, if they get leaked... oh, other countries on this world would be very angry, very angry indeed.” He was pacing back-and-forth. He was angry, but he was also panicking, having been a strong advocate of containing the major technologies to the Cradle. If word leaked that Equestria was harboring an advanced wreck and was utilizing the advanced technology, another country might invade, destroy his life's work.

“Star Swirl, it is inadvisable to let an individual outside in these conditions. The sandstorm is reaching wind speeds in excess of ninety kilometers an hour. Any individuals caught outside would have their flesh torn from their bones.” Unit 3 turned to a terminal it had been working with. The screen glowed with life, displaying the status of the sandstorm.

“It's that bad?” Unit 3 nodded. Soldiers shifted restlessly as they sat around a small garden-like area below the room in which Star Swirl and Unit 3 worked. 

“You hear that? Sandstorm's getting worse. Between sandstorms and the nomad ponies out here,  no wonder no sane soldier wants to be posted out here!” Long Shot sat still, his hooves barely holding onto a cup of soup. A cook had been gracious enough to cook the soldiers a meal, a simple potato soup; hearty, and filling. Hollow Point sat across from him, staring down at various photographs that cameras  had taken of the deceased thief. He had never seen a pony like her before, and the fact that she was able to disguise herself like that, well, it meant that either there was another group out there that no one remembered, or somepony had not been fully briefed when crafting history.

“Yeah, I hear it. Hey, Shot? You ever seen a pony like this?” Shot set down his cup of soup, trotting over to Point's side and settling in beside him. He looked over the photographs, frowning.

“Nope, can't say I have, Sergeant. Maybe you should ask, I don't know, Luna? Considering she's our benefactor?” Shot leaned in, pressing his face right up against Point's. Another soldier, Heavy Bunker, pushed the two of them apart, his abnormally large size intimidating to the smaller ponies in front of him. The other two backed off of each other, retreating to their respective sides. Colonel Bunker nodded at them both with sadness in his eyes. It was not the first time he had been forced to separate the two.

“If I see you two getting into it again, you'll both be in force-cages for a week!” Point and Shot snapped to attention, the message coming across loud and clear. Regular prison cells were nice and all, but the force-cage? One of the advancements that had never left the Kepler was the force-cage, an energy-field-enhanced prison cell. Unfortunately, no food was ever given, nor water, and there was no mattress. Most who entered a force-cage never exited the same. Most cracked. Bunker shuddered at the thought. He had watched as ponies who had committed heinous crimes cracked when inside the force-cage.

“Colonel Heavy Bunker! My office, now!” Star Swirl was watching the group from a balcony, his expression less than pleasant. Bunker swallowed. Having to meet with their primary benefactor was never a good sign for a soldier. Nevertheless, he entered the office, glancing around. Star Swirl was staring at schematics on a nearby table, heavy bags under his eyes. It was like staring at a dead pony.

“Sir? You called?” Star Swirl pointed at the viewscreen, a face staring down. It was Princess Luna. Bunker swallowed once more, moving slowly towards the screen. His head was down as he approached, partially out of reverence for the Princess of the Night, partially out of absolute fear gripping his chest.

“So, am I to assume you were the colonel on duty today for package delivery?” Bunker slowly nodded his head.

“I was, ma'am. Permission to speak freely?” Luna nodded at him, watching as he visibly relaxed.

“We had no idea we were infiltrated by a shapeshifter. Hollow Point was the apparent target. The plans for the sandstorm-proofed buggies were taken, and somepony removed them from the body of that strange pony. We have the body in the morgue. Am I to assume you have been given the photographs, ma'am?” Luna nodded, still silent. Star Swirl stopped Bunker before he continued.

“Show me.” Bunker lifted the photographs up for Star Swirl to see. He showed no reaction, except a slight musing.

“Interesting. I'll make a note of it.” Bunker returned to Luna, who seemed tired and out of sorts.

“Ma'am, we need to know what we're dealing with out here. What else is out here in these wastes besides us?” Bunker backed up as Luna levitated the copies of the photographs she had with her.

“Colonel, we've just encountered this same species as well. However, as it stands, you seem to be dealing with a more aggressive factions of these creatures. Canterlot scientists have decided to term them 'Changelings.' Be aggressive in your search for the pony that stole the plans from that changeling.” The screen went blank, with a message splayed across it, saying 'Transmission Ended.' Bunker turned to Star Swirl, who seemed very disinterested.

“Sir, what's going on? What exactly are these creatures, and what are they trying to do?”

“My guess would be – and remember, Colonel, I do not claim to be the exact expert in this at all – that they learned about the Cradle, and have decided that either they want some of the technology for themselves, or they want to prove themselves so they themselves can join the Cradle.” Star Swirl began to mumble as he pored over various diagrams and figures, one sheet sliding to the floor. Upon it was a strange weapon, something labeled as an 'Automatic Rifle.' Shrugging, he left Star Swirl to his musing as he returned to his troops.

“Colonel, what was that about?”

“The creature that caught Hollow Point and masqueraded as him. We have a name for them.” Hollow Point and Long Shot stared at each other, confused.

“What would that be, sir?”

“Changelings.”	

	Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters

Not far away, in the great capitol of Equestria, Luna sat, despondent. She had kept her cool as she flat-out lied straight to the face of her most trusted colonel, but she could not keep the ruse up anymore. A knock at her door alerted her to the entrance of a new pony to join what was quickly becoming the Equestrian Coalition. A large version of the creatures she had named as 'Changelings' stood in the doorway, a smaller one smiling beside her. Luna was younger than her sister, Celestia, and in charge of the research at the Cradle, but that did not mean she would take for granted the friendships she had carefully accumulated. The younger changeling squealed in delight as she charged towards Luna, tackling her down and tumbling as the two fillies giggled and smiled. 

“Ah, Princess Luna, I see you've remembered my daughter, Princess Chrysalis. She has been ever so eager in coming to meet you. You two seem the dearest of friends.” The larger frowned as she entered, Luna bowing before her.

“Queen Apoidea! Celestia is sort of busy right now, but I guess-” Apoidea's expression did not change to that of a lighter mood.

“Luna, I do not have time for pleasantries or stalling. I require an audience with your sister. Now.” Luna's face dropped. Apoidea was known not for her formality, nor any pleasantries. Straight to the point, and very impatient, she stood as Luna backed away.

“C-Celestia is rather busy. I need to oversee the Cradle, Apoidea! You, of all ponies, should know that!” Apoidea laughed, returning to a rather disappointed expression.

“You mean the wreck in the Everfree Desert? That is nothing! I have had to personally meet with Changeling chieftains to ensure their loyalty to the Ancestral Hive-” Apoidea was interrupted by a rather disheveled Celestia entering Luna's room.

“Dear sister, why all the commo- Apoidea, what a... uh, surprise?” Apoidea bowed before Celestia, stealing a quick glance at her daughter.

“Celestia, I have words for you. Come along Chrysalis.” Chrysalis thrust out her lower lip, her eyes large like saucers.

“But Luna is here!” Apoidea placed her hoof on her forehead, contemplating how to approach the matter delicately. Her subjects were informal and to the point, but her daughter was rather brash and impulsive, something she would have to discover not to be. Celestia sighed, nodding to Luna who followed the group to what appeared to be a rather large map room, an enormous table documenting every single city, country, and famous location across their world. Celestia sighed, pointing to the Cradle.

“Apoidea, are you here to discuss once more about the sightings-”

“Sister, they are not rumours and mere sightings.” Both Apoidea and Celestia seemed rather shocked at Luna's outburst. Celestia stared down at the Cradle while Apoidea regained her composure. The information seemed rather new to the both of them.

“Luna, you say there are actual Changelings near the Cradle?” Luna nodded. A flash appeared beside her, and photographs were floated over to Celestia. Celestia's eyes widened as she looked at them, autopsy reports and all. Apoidea was busy levitating a small red flag marked with a black capital C to where the Cradle sat on the map.

“A separate tribe? And they attempted to steal the technology of the vessel-”

“Kepler, Apoidea.”

“-the Kepler? This is rather disconcerting indeed.” She straightened up, looking directly at Luna. The look in her eyes caused Luna to shrink back, uncertain of what she was planning. Apoidea had spoken with shock in her voice, but her look belied the fact that she was no doubt furious at the theft. The Ancestral Hive of the Changelings itself was not governed underneath Equestrian law, but the Changelings were allies to the burgeoning Equestrian Coalition, the zebras of Zebraica having joined fairly early. The Diamond Dogs, Gryphons, Dragons, and various other factions remained separate, though there were inklings of the Minotaurs decidedly joining the Coalition.

“Disconcerting?”

“Yes, Luna.” Apoidea stared up from the map at Luna, who moved forward to examine the map. It seemed that not only one but three flags were now near the Cradle. “I have two small groups moving in to contain the threat that these renegades pose to the current order. If word were to get out that there was an enormous trove of technology being held secret by Equestria, there would be no end to what could occur. My Hive would be threatened. Oh, and Celestia's and your reigns as well.” Luna backed away, galloping to her room where she began to attempt to contact the Cradle's defense force, although she could not get through the interference. The sandstorm was apparently at its apex.

Kepler/The Cradle

The sandstorm had signs of letting up, some light finally returning through the windows. Star Swirl stared out the window, watching for signs of any pony attempting to leave the Cradle, which would make them the true thieves of the plans. As he watched the sand flow past the window, a crackling began to occur on the radio system.

“...ome in...lings...wirl!” Star Swirl faced the radio, quickly turning dials and pushing sliders to isolate the signal.

“Colonel? Colonel Heavy Bunker! Come to my office now!” Bunker moved as quickly as his legs would take him, saluting Star Swirl as he continued to attempt to isolate the incoming radio signal.

“Sir! What is it?”

“Seems like an incoming radio message from the Princess! It might be something incredibly important!” Bunker nodded, turning around and kicking the console. With a single crackle, the signal cleared up, Luna's face appearing on the viewscreen.

“Ah! Star Swirl! I have an urgent message for the Cradle's defense forces- oh, Colonel Bunker, you're already here! Swift thinking!” As soon as she was about to start, a large figure approached the camera.

“Princess Luna, it is incredibly rude- is this a direct line to the Cradle?” A very large Changeling appeared beside her, seating herself with airs of royalty. Star Swirl glanced over at Bunker, who proceeded to shrug.

“Princess Luna, I must protest! This is an incredible brea-”

“Her name is Queen Apoidea, of the Changelings, and she is Equestria's ally. Treat her with respect, Colonel.” Bunker saluted, allowing Apoidea the proper respect. Star Swirl raised an eyebrow, watching closely at the interactions for any sign of subterfuge.

“Ah, at least somepony knows how to give respect. Am I to understand, Colonel Bunker, that you have encountered Changeling infiltrators in the Cradle? Ones that have contributed to the theft of plans for some new attempt at transportation?” Bunker nodded, remaining silent. He knew the less he said, the less he would have to answer for if Celestia ever got wind of what was happening.

“Queen Apoidea, we have the matter under control-”

“I have dispatched Changeling soldiers to assist. They are not infiltrators, and as such, they are to be treated with the same respect as any of Celestia's subjects, is that understood?!” Bunker nodded, still remaining silent. Apoidea nodded, standing to leave. Luna shook her head in exasperation, returning to her conversation.

“Activate the quarantine gates. No pony gets in or out.” Bunker nodded, looking over to Star Swirl. Star Swirl, in turn, nodded, setting unsaid orders for the Cradle to begin a quarantine.

The Cradle

Alarms resounded as the sandstorm began to finally die down, soldiers of the Cradle's defense force galloping to their destinations, taking up positions around the gates. Rifles were locked and loaded, waiting for any creature to approach the gates. With a single, loud clanking noise, large metal slabs rose up from beneath the sand, effectively creating a large wall around the Cradle. Forcystus, stepping outside, cursed underneath his breath.

“They're faster than I anticipated. Hopefully I can get myself out.” 

--------====||====--------

Hollow Point and Long Shot took their positions within the tallest tower in the city, their special sniper rifles at the ready. As they stood still, Shot felt the hot sun beat down on his face, the sweat drops  pouring down as he watched the ground.

“Hey, Point?”

“Yeah, Shot?”

“Why is it that we only use the auto-wall for quarantines, and never for simple defense?” Point did not reply, merely watching the streets below as ponies milled about for the afternoon. The First Sector was sometimes the most boring post if something caused the alarms to go, but it left the two ponies with time to think. Shot sighed, leaning against the railing.

“I don't rightly know, Shot. Most of the time we try to keep the walls down. Official story and all.” Shot merely stared, still searching for whomever might attempt to leave the quarantine area. Ponies had been instructed not to leave their homes or places of employment during the quarantine. Officially, it was due to the complications of the sandstorm, which, unfortunately, was partially true. Static build-up from the fine particulate sand could spark, igniting fuel reserves and causing detrimental damage to the Cradle. Shot was not happy about lying to the populace, but it had to be done, and no matter what, it remained certain that war could ignite over the Kepler, something he was all too aware of, especially since war was always on their doorstep in part thanks to the Gryphon Hegemony gathering up its army and patrolling it near the border with Equestria.

“Sniper team, check in!”

“Private Long Shot, reporting in!”

“Sergeant Hollow Point, ditto.”

“All right. Star Swirl's given the weapons-free command. Any pony so much as touches one of the auto-wall segments, light them up. We cannot allow this to get out! Excuse me for now, I have an incoming radio signal.” The signal died as Shot was watching the streets again, looking around when he saw movement.

“Contact! Sector 0-1-4! If you're here to help, get him!” Shot zoomed in as close as possible. While the ponies in the First Sector wore cloth robes to prevent sand from entering their bodies, this one seemed off. The entire head was covered, with a scarf of some type encompassing its face. Long brown robes covered it as it raised something to its head. Shot recognized it as a modified long-range radio assembly, a shipment of which had gone missing as it was being delivered to the armed forces in Stalliongrad. 

--------====||====--------
Forcystus had noticed the alarms, but even though the main objective would be drenched in failure, his own personal objective would be complete.

“I am not lying. This is Forcystus, of the Steel Rangers Mercenaries. The Equestrian government has been hiding a treasure trove of technology and fortune from every race except those sworn to complete secrecy! They are currently mobilizing forces to ensure my silence. Remember me, and that I have shown you the hypocrisy of the diarchy of Equestria!” With that, he was about to shut off the radio when something whistled through the air and slammed into it, forcing it from his hoof. With a quick motion his pistol was out, the harness shredding his robe to reveal the dark grey uniform underneath. Another motion forced the hood from his head, the scarf tearing into pieces.

--------====||====--------

“Hostile identified! Member of the Steel Rangers Mercenaries!” Colonel Bunker led the small squad that was to apprehend the thief, recognized as a member of the Steel Rangers, a mercenary group that had been terrorizing various parts of the world, and according to the situation, they had set their sights on the Cradle.

“Keep your sides covered! He might have associates in the Cradle already!” A standard military formation followed, six in the middle, three in front, and three to each side, allowing them coverage of every spot where an opposing force would or could assault from.

“Deactivate your weapon harness! Do it now!” All weapons were now trained on him. The Steel Ranger smiled before he bit down on the trigger bit, faster than any other pony was able to. Two soldiers were wounded, seven were dead. Nine soldiers were still standing, their weapons still trained on him. Almost as soon as the Steel Ranger was about to fire, a shot rang out from the tower, a single flash before the Ranger's side exploded in blood, cloth, and torn flesh, a high-caliber round penetrating his side at an awkward angle. Another shot quickly followed, severing a leg. Blood began to pool on the sand, the severed leg rolling away slowly. One more shot rang out, slamming into the Ranger's shredded side. The other soldiers deactivated their weapon harnesses, quickly moving in. The dying Ranger was laughing, blood slowly pouring from his side,  leg, and mouth.

“You poor saps. Today, I die, but my labours have proven fruitful. You will remember this day as the day Forcystus the Steel Ranger bested the defenders of the Cradle, and-” A shot penetrated his skull, flipping him over and away from those who had moved in. Bunker was standing still, an expression of pure rage on his face as his pistol smoked, the heated shell melting sand into glass on the ground. With a loud snapping sound, his harness flipped the pistol back into the holster on his side. Removing a radio from a strap on his left side, he activated it, allowing a response from the other end before he spoke.

“Colonel Bunker! What is the situation?” Bunker swallowed. It was not going to be easy to explain everything, but he would have to do his best.

“Star Swirl, sir... the intruder is dead. Shot three times with a high-caliber, once by myself. Sir, we're in for a world of hurt.” Colonel Bunker winced at the choking sound Star Swirl was making in the radio. It seemed he was more angry than he had ever shown.

“What do you mean-”

“Sir, he was able to communicate with his compatriots before we were able to stop him. They know about the Cradle now, and it is a safe bet that whoever they are employed by, they will know as well. Recommend we pour as much resources into defense of the Cradle as physically possible.” 

--------====||====--------

Star Swirl was beside himself in his anger. Due to the electronics that composed a majority of his body, he could no longer utilize any magic or spells he once could use, but that never stopped him from simply hurling objects the old-fashioned way. His voice was caught in his throat, creating a peculiar choking noise that sounded eerily similar to a drowning small animal. Papers were flowing around the room, plans and blueprints out of their orderly stacks. With one moment of calm, Star Swirl returned to the radio.

“You have clearance for all the defensive emplacements! We cannot lose the Cradle. No matter what time they arrive, be it two days, two years, or two decades from now, we will not be found lacking! Do I make myself clear, Colonel Heavy Bunker?!” An acknowledgment was heard on the other side before the signal was shut off. He stood in his office, staring at the ground for a few minutes before carefully retrieving his papers and stacking them in their orderly piles once more.

3308 AD – Everfree Desert/The Cradle

Every day, every waking moment, it was silence. Since the fateful incident six years previous, the Cradle had been on constant high alert, although, with the newly formed Equestrian Armed Forces bolstering their numbers they had at least some way to keep themselves from losing their minds as they continuously stared out at the bleakness of the desert. Colonel Bunker had retired from duty, quickly being replaced by a hastily-promoted Colonel Hollow Point. Long Shot had been promoted to Captain, and re-assigned to train the soldiers in Stalliongrad with the newest weapons to be designed in the Cradle. Bunker had moved to Fort Ponyville, a burgeoning trading post that was famous for the special jam that came from the nearby Sweet Apple Acres. Point had lost track of most of the soldiers from that day, but he had more important duties as the commanding officer of the Cradle's Equestrian Infantry detachment. There were grand guns in the desert sand, constantly being maintained and modified to work against sand. Every single one shot slow, but massive damage was to be had if any enemy was foolhardy enough to wander into their firing line. Unit 3 had been offline for two months, stating before that his battery was not working at full capacity, and that it needed to deactivate and allow a slow memory purge.

“It's been a long six years, hasn't it, Colonel?” Point looked up from his deployment map to glance at Star Swirl. Over six years, he had been given more machinery. His hind legs were now completely mechanical, but they were sheathed with a rubber covering that mimicked the coat of the remaining flesh parts of his body.

“Six years, and nothing in the way of any sort of action. Still, never hurts to be prepared, right?” Star Swirl merely nodded, staring out the window. The auto-wall system had malfunctioned two years previous, preventing the walls from ever retracting into their places in the ground. Not that it would have mattered much. The auto-walls protected from sandstorms; they were apparently static-resistance bulkheads from the Kepler. Engineers had uncovered two hatches leading to an underground area. They were still cataloging every item they had uncovered underneath. The town around the Kepler, now affectionately named Luna's Cradle for their benefactor, had grown several times. The main area had become the major fabrication and munitions production area for the defenders of Luna's Cradle. The new rifles that had been developed were more resistant to jamming, but the method for the production of ammunition prevented them from automatic fire, as the shells had an incredible tendency to overheat and melt the firing pin, sometimes exploding as well. Unit 3, before off-lining, had shared advanced production practices from what he termed as 'humanity's twenty-first century.' Munitions were much more durable, as were the rifles, but they were still only able to produce semi-automatic rifles. Star Swirl had produced the idea of an automatic rifle, but the gas-feed it would operate on was beyond the ability of their current manufacturing capacities.

“Never hurts, indeed, Colonel. Bunker would have been proud.”

“Would have been, sir?” Point was curious now. Whatever information Star Swirl had, it was about his old commanding officer, and it immediately piqued his interest.

“Oh. He died. He was one of the oldest in the service, Colonel. Died of a derailing train. He didn't suffer.” Point looked out the window, melancholy in his voice as he spoke.

“That's all we can hope for. A swift death and no pain-” Point was about to continue when alarms began to ring. Without a second thought, he was in front of the base-wide broadcast system. He knew what the alarms were about, and his war face was grim. “All hands, to your stations! Gunners, suit up! Snipers, to your posts! Everypony else, get out of bed and move it!” Slamming down the receiver, he frowned as he watched the soldiers hastily getting dressed and their harnesses on. Turret gunners were different, if only in the fact that their harnesses were designed to directly interact with the turrets outside the wall. Civilians were moving into the underground area, a place which had been converted to a bunker for war-time scenarios.

“So, the die has been cast, has it, Colonel?” Point solemnly nodded. 

“Unfortunately, sir. I'm going to take my place with the defenders. We will not let them have Luna's Cradle!” Point galloped away, leaving Star Swirl to stair out the window. In the distance, great sprays of sand were thrown up, the force not identifying itself by any means. No IFF, or “identification, friend or foe,” nor any style of uniform recognized by the scouts.

--------====||====--------

Hollow Point discarded his colonel uniform for his combat suit and weapon harness. One of the new rifle designs had been gifted to him through the upper echelon of Command, and he never thought anything of it. His vest was strapped down tightly, his harness clicked together. The harness grasped the weapon, the trigger gripped with the right amount of pressure for preparation. Next was his helmet. More commonly known as a “bucket head”, Luna's Cradle had been the main producer of the fine helmets. Good visibility, and decent all-around protection. Finally, his ammunition. Six magazines of beautiful seven-six-two full metal jacket ammunition, his bread and butter. Three soldiers were still gearing up, apparently new recruits.

“Attention! Names, recruits!”

“Sir, Private Dead Eye, sir!

“Sir, Corporal Quick Scope, sir!”

“Sir, Sergeant Full Metal, sir!” Point nodded at them, frowning. He knew that they might not make it through the day, but by Celestia, he would at least lead them to a good end.

“You may know that Luna's Cradle is about to be attacked. You three are a part of the new wave of recruits. We cannot allow them to take what we have worked so hard to dredge up from the ground! We may be forgotten in the annals of time, but by Celestia, we will make the enemy rue the day they ever thought it was a smart idea to tangle with the likes of the Equestrian Fifth Infantry! Do you get me!” All three of them resounded in a single call, their determination, their nervousness, and their fear coming clear through their call. 

“We get you, sir!” Point motioned towards the door.

“You three are with me. Let's move, ladies! Go, go, go!”

--------====||====--------

The attitude was grim as the defenders stood at their posts, hasty defenses erected for those using prototype weapons. A large weapon, known as a crankshaft repeater to the Equestrian forces, but simply “Puff” to the civilians, was placed on a mount near the Kepler's main entrance. Point had arrived with his three fireteam members at what was known as Point Alpha, the main entrance of the actual Cradle, the original area of settlement and industry. Snipers were already in their windows and towers, while the gunners on the turrets outside the walls were radioing in. Every riflepony within the walls was tense, masks of fear and determination etched into every face there. It was the beginning of the week, and many wished they were still asleep after the drills they had run all weekend. Point's radio crackled to life, alerting him to a message.

“Sir! We've got what appears to be- gryphons?! Sir, the gryphons are arriving, and they have some sort of armoured vehicles! Corporal, get down! Sergeant-” The radio cut out. Point cursed under his breath. He could not allow them to take the town.

“Sir! Outpost Gamma! We're under attack by some sort of large dog-like- sir! They're the Diamond Dogs!”

“Outpost Delta! We've encountered minotaurs! They're charging right through the defense line! Get that weapon trained on the minotaurs!” The radio cut short. The three outposts had been overwhelmed by what appeared to be a more numerous force than previously anticipated. The changelings that were stationed with the defenders seemed to not show anything other than a grim determination not unlike a pony who understands the full risks of a mission.

“Keep your eyes peeled, and your sides covered! You three, follow me!” Scope, Metal, and Eye followed close behind, their weapon harnesses in the inactive state to allow for more freedom of movement. There were small tunnels underneath the ground that engineers had constructed underneath the sand, tunnels that made movement much faster. The small fireteam crawled through, keeping their movements in sync as much as possible. Sounds of gunfire and combat were muffled, but they were overhead. Large explosions shook the tunnels, but the roof held. As they moved through another tunnel branch, Point could see light ahead. With quick motions, he crawled out, his harness already prepared for action. Scope, Metal, and Eye followed suit, taking concentric positions around the tunnel entrance. With no words spoken, Point moved off, the others following closely behind. The sight that greeted them as they rounded the corner to the main street was horrific. Bodies were everywhere, but it had been mostly gryphons, although the defenders were barely twelve, from the forty that had been there. Point, watching the gryphons, was almost too late in noticing the shadow above him. A minotaur with a large metal hammer slammed the ground as hard as he could, the weapon shaking the ground as it impacted with the foundations of the nearby structure. Scope, Metal, and Eye were already firing, the bullet wounds they inflicted barely fazing the minotaur whatsoever.

“You ponies are no better than your leaders!” The minotaur had taken his attention from Point long enough for him to carefully aim, blasting a shot through the minotaur's skull. Without a second opinion, he dropped like a stone to the ground.

“Aim for the head. Okay, so, gryphons and minotaurs confirmed. What about the armoured-” Behind them, a large rumbling was heard. Something slid into position as they turned around. “Scatter!” A large explosion followed as the armoured vehicle destroyed every piece of cover it could. Before it could get a good bead on Point's fireteam, the treads began to smoke, startling them when they blew apart.

“I told you these were never a good idea-” The vehicle was quickly destroyed by something wielding a hammer. Point hid around a piece of wall that had stayed standing, the other three crouching down. Only when the hammering stopped did they bother to look out. A minotaur was standing on top of the vehicle, holding what appeared to be an oversized version of their own rifles.

“Well, looks like we got here just in time! Move out!” More minotaurs wielding the oversized rifles sprinted past, combat vests on their torsos, and helmets on their heads.

“Well, at least you're not trying to turn us into paste. Name and rank?” The minotaur jumped down from the vehicle, tossing a dead gryphon on the ground.

“Indomitable Will, Warrant Officer. Am I to assume you are Colonel Hollow Point?” Point nodded silently, pointing behind them. Explosions detonated in various areas, while screams of pain and anger were heard even over the din of battle and conflict. “Just point us at the fight.” 

--------====||====--------

The defenders on Unity Street were not faring much better. The gryphons had some explosive devices, something much more worrisome than the armoured vehicles which seemed to have a tendency to break down at the least opportune moments. Every defender was pushed back repeatedly, snipers dead before they could sight in an enemy. Warrant Officer Will growled as he saw minotaurs fighting alongside gryphons.

“Traitors! We were neutral for a reason! We may fall this day, but this day, the enemy will know fear!” With a battlecry, the minotaurs charged forward, their weapons discharging as Point and his soldiers watched in awe, their mouths open in pure shock. Gryphons ignored the ponies to fire at the raging minotaurs, leaving them exposed.

“These are more like raw recruits than veterans!” 

“Cover the minotaurs! Get that gun running-” Sounds of rapid fire were echoing over the battle. The minotaurs began to falter, Indomitable Will pinned behind a large barricade. There seemed to be a strange box that the gryphons were dragging. As they opened the sides with a crowbar, the device was clear.

“Get down!” Another soldier had beaten Point to the punch, as it were, but it was still the same message. Ten barrels began to spin, the weapon spitting out rounds as fast as the barrels spun.

“Where in Tartarus did they get a crankshaft repeater? Those are still in the prototyping phase!” Point was beginning to get very nervous. He had nowhere to run, nowhere to turn to for an escape route. Dead Eye glanced around, pointing to a nearby house.

“In here!” Point, Will, Dead Eye, Full Metal, and Quick Scope dove for the doorway, the trail of bullets hammering the outside of the house. As they stood up and brushed themselves off, Dead Eye looked around, counting. Something was off; there were only four of them inside. He glanced outside, staring at the street. There, on the ground, Quick Scope lay bleeding, no movement at all. He pulled back, staring at the wall. Will pushed furniture from the room towards the windows and door, creating a veritable bunker. Hollow Point glanced at what was left of his squad, shaking his head at the events that had just transpired. Will sat with Full Metal, creating a small fire inside a small metal garbage can, while Dead Eye merely stared at the wall, mumbling to himself.

“Dead Eye?” The private did not respond, rocking back-and-forth. His eyes were wide, devoid of any emotion besides utter terror. Hollow Point sat down, his mind slowly letting events catch up with him. Without warning, his stomach lurched, the contents spilling on the floor. He could see every dead body, and he was beginning to wish he had never seen it.

“I guess they never said what would happen in true war, sir.” Full Metal had come to stand beside Point as he steadied himself. He put his hoof on Point's back, tapping lightly.

“Those were our friends, Metal. Our friends, and they just- they just cut them down! Without remorse!” Dead Eye began to sob quietly as the outside sounds were muffled, punctuated by what sounded like an explosion. Will shook his head, sighing.

“I watched my own family wrestle with the best to become what they were, but this is just senseless.” He pulled apart his rifle, cleaning as he sang a song of elegy for those still outside.

“Hear me, hear me, oh ancients of the grove
Hear the voices of those long gone
Let them rest their overtly weary heads
Find them peace now that they are dead.

Truth never spoke of Lies
Burning to the core
Of ponies and the minotaurs
Praying for their souls.

Let the light of Life shine through the dark
Lead the lost souls from the grave
And let them leave their marks.

Fires burn as one
The end might soon come
But let their spirits rise
Like the sun.” Will rolled the screws between his fingers, musing on the words of the song.

“A song about the dead, huh?” He looked up to see Point looking at him in interest. He set the screws down, shaking his head.

“More a song of remembrance for those who have died, and a prayer that the afterlife puts their worries to rest.” With a flurry of motion, his rifle was quickly assembled, the bolt sliding into place. He  
drew the bolt out, checking for inconsistencies.

“Sounds like a perfect elegy for this situation.” They began to sing along with Will as they watched the sun disappear over the horizon, the dark spreading as the light died down. Point stared outside as he watched gryphons looking through the bodies. One found a survivor and quickly slit his throat. He turned back from the window, forcing down his fear as he steeled himself.

“We're in here for the long haul, aren't we?” Point solemnly nodded, keeping silent.

--------====| Day 2 |====--------

The sun streamed through the window, particles of dust dancing in the light as the squad woke. As they started to stand, weapons fire erupted outside, prompting them to drop down to their stomachs. Dead Eye looked up to a hatch in the roof, motioning for everyone to get topside. Will nodded, standing below the hatch. Full Metal jumped on his shoulders, holding tightly as Will stood.

“Hold on, corporal.” He lifted his arms, pushing Full Metal through the hatch. He watched as Full Metal looked around, kneeling down to retrieve his weapon harness from Will.

“Looks clear. If we can, I'll-” A single shot rang out, Full Metal slumping over and falling down through the hatch. Point and Dead Eye stood beside Will, staring at their fallen comrade, blood leaking from a small wound in the forehead. Will backed up, falling onto his rear as he stared at the dead body. Dead Eye and Point stood ramrod stiff, their eyes once again wide with terror. Point once again leaned towards the ground, his stomach's contents emptied out onto the wooden floor. Dead Eye dropped to the floor, his eyes blank with despair.

“How can we get out of here if they've got long rifles as well?! We're dead! Dead!” Dead Eye stared at the door as Point sighed.

“We'll try at night. As long as we try not to make ourselves a target, we should be fine.”

--------====||====--------

The night came, the dust settling as the firing of weapons outside died down. Will lifted Hollow Point up, letting him look around before shoving him up and tossing Dead Eye up after him. Lifting their weapons, Will prepared to climb up after them. They were staring out over the city outside of the walls of the main sector of Luna's Cradle. He followed their gaze and stared at possibly the largest fire he had ever seen. The outer edge of the town was being devoured as it slowly moved. Minotaurs and gryphons shouted in cheers of triumph as they chased away other squads that had fallen to the same fate as Point's own squad, slaughtering them where they stood and tossing the bodies into the fires. Point was about to draw his weapon when Will pointed over the horizon. The Cradle's defense force was slowly moving forwards, minotaurs loyal to Equestria pushing massive wheeled carriages covered in armour forwards. Will was about to shout in a cheer of happiness when shots rang out. The invaders had spotted them, and a crankshaft repeater was trained on their position, a minotaur smiling as he turned the handle. Grabbing Dead Eye under one arm, Hollow Point under the other, he sprinted off the top of the building, dropping them as they hit the ground. Rolling to a stop, he brought his rifle to bear, aiming around.

“Get moving! We can't have lost them that easily!” Will pressed up against a wall, sneaking a peek out. Gryphons with swords and primitive matchlock pistols moved around, executing any survivors they found.

“It's an all-out massacre. They're not here to invade, but to slaughter everyone and everything.” He turned to see Dead Eye unslinging his rifle, the scope sliding in front of his eye. He shook his hands in a gesture of 'don't you dare' as the gryphons advanced.

“There are too many of them for us to fight. There's only three of us.” Point nodded, swallowing his fear as he looked out. They tossed more survivors into the blaze, followed by whooping and cheering. He glanced around, looking for anything out of the way and not easily accessible. There was not much, but he could see a grate nearby, one not outlined by the light of the blaze. He motioned for Dead Eye and Point to get the grate up as he took point, watching for movement on the side of the gryphons and the other minotaurs. Dead Eye dragged the grate off, pushing Point down and pointing for Will to jump down. He followed suit, watching the ladder as he dropped. The area opened up to a large catacomb-like area, the bowels of the ruined sections of the Kepler, broken screens and rotted plants dotting the area before them before a ledge that looked out onto what appeared to be some sort of barracks.

“We're inside the Kepler. Keep your sixes covered.” The shouts from outside were muffled as the gryphons searched for the minotaur and two-pony squad. 

“Let's lay up in here for the night. Shouldn't be too long until the sun rises. I doubt the gryphons are foolhardy enough to enter the truly unknown.” Point glanced around after he finished, shivering slightly.

“Unsettling, isn't it?” Point looked over at Dead Eye, who was looking down at the ground below, looking at the skeletons of bipedals laying around. Weapons lay rusted and broken, old spent shells littering the ground. Will glanced back at the entrance, the grate not having been placed back.

“I'll take first watch. Point, you're on second watch. Dead Eye, you fine with third?”

“Yeah, whatever.” With that, Dead Eye and Point fell into an uncomfortable sleep, their nightmares of death and blood. Will sat there, cradling his rifle. In truth, he did not want to sleep. He could see the dead when he closed his eyes, and that was problem enough for him. As he sat there, he wondered if it was truly a war that had begun.

--------====| Day 3 |====--------

Dead Eye nudged his companions awake, pointing at the grate.

“First light. We should get moving. I don't know if the Cradle's defenders have reached the gryphon army yet.” Point slowly sat up, blinking and smacking his dry lips. Will rolled over, staring at Dead Eye.

“Well, they would have reached the opposing army last night, I would think. Maybe one of us should check?” Will nodded silently, standing up. Strapping his rifle to his back, he made his way over to the grate, lifting himself out slowly. The sight that awaited him brought him pause as he stared. Gryphons and Equestrians alike lay bloodied and ruined, the bodies riddled with holes. He noticed a unicorn crawling slowly, blood seeping from a leg wound. Her uniform was that of a medic, a pony sworn to help all in need. She was in definitely dire need of some assistance of her own. Will lowered himself down, breathing slowly to keep himself calm.

“There's a lot of dead up there. Saw one surviving unicorn, though. She looks badly hurt. Point, you want to go up first?” Point nodded, letting Will pick him up and toss him through the grate onto the ground above. Dead Eye followed, with Will close behind. The unicorn noticed the three, slowly crawling towards them.

“He... help me.” Dead Eye kept watch while Point knelt down in front of her, pulling bandages, a needle, and thread, from the saddlebags on her, going to work while she kept her eyes and mouth clamped shut. Will had to look away while Point took care of her, the quiet whimpers of the unicorn barely audible over the embers of the previous night's fire. Point threaded the needle, pushing the sharp object through the hide on the leg, a small amount of blood trickling out as he pushed on. Reaching around in her bags, he pulled out some antiseptic fluid, cleaning the wound as best he could with what he had. She looked away, biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood. Will looked back, motioning for her to open her mouth. Pulling a small leather roll from one of his uniform's pockets, he placed it between her teeth.

“Bite down on this. It will help a little, and keep you from piercing your lip.” She complied, immediately chomping down on the roll, tears streaming down her face. Point nodded to Will, continuing to stitch the unicorn's leg. A few more stitches, and he began to wrap the leg with bandages. Will pulled a minotaur's rifle from the ground, removing the barrel and bending it for a splint, which Point happily attached to the unicorn's leg. She stopped biting on the roll to see her leg.

“It... still hurts a little, but thank you.” She stood up slowly, weakly saluting. 

“You shouldn't be moving so quickly, miss...”

“Medical Officer Twinkle Sheen, Medic Corps. I'm a sergeant in rank, if that's what you want.” Point and Will looked at each other, sighing as they looked around. They appeared to be the only ones still alive in a sea of corpses. Twinkle Sheen calmed down enough for it to register, and immediately vomited on the ground.

“Yeah, it doesn't get any easier, Twinkle. We've seen it three times now. Two of our squad, one by crankshaft repeater, the other by a gryphon long rifle. It's going to be a long while before any of us forget the ones we saw die. I'll probably never sleep well again.” Point patted her on the back as she slumped down to the ground, shaking as tears sprang to her eyes again.

“They... they killed them all. Slaughtered them like animals...” Her body continuously shook with sobs as she cried over the loss of everyone in front of her. Will grabbed more rifles, tearing cloth off dead soldiers to tie them together in a makeshift marker.

“As long as we do not forget them, they'll live on in our memories. They did not want this war any more than we minotaurs did.” He stood up, lifting Twinkle Sheen underneath his arm.

“So, colonel, what's the plan?” Everyone looked at Point, who shied away from the sudden spotlight put on him.

“I guess try and regroup with the rest of the defenders, and see how far the invaders made it into Luna's Cradle.” Point sighed as he finished, looking back towards the massive walls of the First Sector, where many of the civilians were waiting with baited breath for any news at all. He looked back at Twinkle Sheen and his squad. Every single one of them was decked out with the desert camouflage that Star Swirl had said was effective, and he had never seen their faces, let alone what they looked like underneath those uniforms. Twinkle's eyes were a piercing blue, filled with a deep sorrow. Dead Eye had one milky-white orb, the other a deep red, while Will stared down from his much smaller eyes.

“Let's get going then.” Will motioned for Point to get moving, letting the colonel lead the way as they marched slowly towards the perimeter of the First Sector.

--------====||====--------

Night began to fall as they arrived, the darkness concealing the squad of four as screaming was heard inside Luna's Cradle. Dead Eye and Hollow Point had their rifles out, the scopes up to their eyes as they kept their eyes concentrated for any surprises. The crankshaft repeater on the wall lay silent, a dead Equestrian soldier leaning up against it. More Equestrians lay around, with gryphons also on the ground, the death throes evident as they appeared intertwined in mockery of a waltz, more of a dance of death in of itself. 

“I don't see any of the defense force, well, alive. What happened?” Dead Eye turned the corner and found out as he nearly fell into a crater left by a gryphon explosive.

“I think you just found one of the reasons-” He could hear whooping in the distance as he glanced around in fear. It sounded like a gryphon war cheer.

“Uh, we should run. I mean, we should run right now!” Will kicked it into gear, sprinting ahead while Dead Eye and Hollow Point galloped behind him, their weapons sheathed and locked down as they ran. As they rounded another corner, they could see a small squad of Equestrians surrounded by gryphons with their weapons drawn. Point snarled, his rifle unsheathed as he bit down on the control. Before he could fire, Will set down Twinkle Sheen, picked up a pipe from the ground, and charged in, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“For Equestria!” Dead Eye had barely any time to react before Will fell upon the gryphons like a tidal wave, blood spraying as he hammered away, letting the squad escape towards the main area of the Kepler, the area where Star Swirl was located. The gryphons withdrew, flying away as Will reveled in their defeat. Point was the first to speak as they approached the minotaur, shaking his head.

“I won't argue with results, but that was foolhardy, Will. You may be a minotaur, but one slash across the heels and you're done for.” Will rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing.

“I couldn't let them hurt those soldiers. We've lost so many, it's like a ghost town.” Screaming from inside the Kepler brought their attention back to reality. Point held up his hoof to motion to the other Equestrian squad.

“Check inside the Kepler! We'll locate other squads!” The other squad nodded, rushing off to assist whoever was inside the Kepler. Point looked around, locating a hatch in the ground. Will knelt beside him, curiosity taking hold.

“What exactly are you trying to do, colonel?”

“Jump start some of the auto-guns placed throughout the town. If we can even get two for First Sector, we'll be much safer. This is only one of around seven panels, though. Guess where the other six are.” Will pointed out the way they came, silently getting a nod from Point as he continued to work. Dead Eye looked around, sighing as he glared at Point.

“To get them all rewired to protect the city, that'd need an entire maintenance team-”

“Which we don't have, Dead Eye. Seven panels are what is needed to operate the bare minimum of defenses in the Cradle. First Sector is, unfortunately, the most important.” He looked down, shaking his head in exasperation.

“What's wrong?”

“Gryphons knew what they were doing. They're not your typical soldiers. They were trained to neutralize the Cradle, and take down the defenses. The cables are absolutely shredded-” Will knelt near another panel, pulling cable from below.

“Thanks! Now get back under! We don't know where the rest have gone.” The panel closed, leaving Will with a large coil of replacement cable in his able hands. Point stared in slack-jawed shock before regaining his composure.

“That's exactly what we need. The panels they know of, those are probably the ones we'll have to repair as well. Let's get this panel done, and hole up for the night in the gunsmithery over there.” He pointed at a small stone building, seeming out of place in an area of metal and wood. As he continued to work, Will lifted Twinkle Sheen towards the building, Dead Eye following behind. Sparks flew as Point finished, the panel glowing yellow with power.

--------====| Day 4 |====--------

Point awoke to the sounds of struggle, rolling out of the way as Will tossed a gryphon out of the way.

“Thought you'd gone and broke our backs?! Ha!” Another gryphon flew past, his neck clearly snapped as Will continued to wrestle with them.

“What in Celestia's name is going on?!” Dead Eye was up in an instant, throwing a knife into the throat of another gryphon that had sneaked inside. Point dodged out of the way of the falling corpse, just barely missed by a falling sword.

“Looks like these were some stragglers from the initial wave. Just be glad these are more raw than recruits.” Will tossed another to the floor, snapping bones denoting a broken back. He looked down, spitting on the gryphon. Never before had he ever felt such hate for another creature, but the gryphons were fast deserving of his hate. Every fibre of his being burned as he stared at that dead gryphon, the pain wallowing up inside. He hefted Point's cables, motioning silently for him to get moving.

“Dead Eye, keep watch over Twinkle Sheen. Will and I can handle the panels from here.” Dead Eye looked up as Point and Will were leaving, sliding himself over beside Twinkle as she continued to sleep.

--------====||====--------

As they fixed panels and brought them back online, Point could hear parts of the Cradle coming back to life. A small fixed electrode rose from the ground, emitting an electric discharge whenever a gryphon came too close for comfort. A turret rose from the ground, single shots blasting gryphons to bloody pieces.

“How many of these things have we fixed so far?”

“Six, colonel.” Point sighed, looking up from the panel he was working on. As he worked, panels overloaded, which made his life harder. So far, only two defense guns had remained active, effectively sealing off the entire First Sector of Luna's Cradle. The gryphons had redirected their efforts elsewhere, slaughtering any Equestrian Army remnants they could find. Few had remained standing under such efforts, pushing Point and Will towards a breaking point neither of them wanted.

“I wonder if they damaged a main power conduit, or something along those lines?” Will looked at point, shrugging. Point sighed, returning to the panel. There were definite signs of a short circuit. If he had to, he could close off the power from the panel, but that would cost power to some of the defenses. That would cause a riot in some areas... He stopped for a minute. If he could switch off power strategically in certain areas, he could force some of the gryphon's army into a bottleneck, directly towards a defense turret. He looked at the electric fence tower rising near the panel. He could not take the chance that it would not work. He slammed the last cable into place, powering it up. As it did, an abnormal amount of electricity built up, sending arcs of electricity across the nearby buildings and setting them on fire. The main point of the tower began to turn red with heat.

“Colonel, get away from there!” Will tossed Point aside, a bolt of lightning striking the minotaur in the chest. He fell over, steam waving off of him as he lay there as still as the grave.

“Will? Indomitable Will?” There was no response. He could hear similar discharges all over the Second and Third Sectors. Screams revealed the victims to be gryphons, no doubtedly trying to sabotage the defenses again. Point curled up on the ground, rocking back and forth as he tried to forget that he watched something he fixed kill the minotaur that had kept his squad alive. 

“Colonel? Oh Celestia... Twinkle, take a look at Will! See if you can help him!” Dead Eye galloped up and shook Point, trying to break him out of his stupor. 

“He died... and it's my fault. We're all going to die... and it's my fault.” Point stared blankly into space muttering the same two things over and over as Dead Eye shook him. Twinkle Sheen looked at the panel, then at Will.

“Grab me those two loose cables!”

“What are you trying to do?! Kill him?” Twinkle Sheen growled as she stood, the pain still immense.

“If I can do it right, I can restart his heart! Come on, Dead Eye! Get! Me! Those! Cables!” Dead Eye complied, dragging two thin cables to Twinkle. With a quietly whispered prayer, she slammed the cables into his chest, Will jerking around as the electricity coursed through him. Pulling the cables away, she watched Will quickly sit up.

“What the- what happened to me?” Twinkle put her hoof on his shoulder, smiling.

“You were clinically dead. I may have just created a new way to save patients!” She giggled like a schoolfilly as he scratched his head, watching her dance around until she flopped due to the splint.

“You're like a small foal in a candy store, Twinkle. Thank you. I mean it.” Twinkle felt Will's arms surround her, drawing her up into an embrace. He looked over at Point, the colonel snapping out of his stupor when he saw Will sit up.

“I just- I- what.” Will merely shrugged and pointed at Twinkle Sheen, the unicorn finally having calmed down enough from her euphoric high to keep some semblance of sanity.

“Well, his heart had stopped, so I did the one thing no pony would think to do in the situation: apply more juice!” The rest of the squad stared at her as she shifted her hooves back and forth in embarrassment.

“Not exactly the smartest time for mad science, doc. I will admit, it got results, but leave the experiments to the eggheads back in Canterlot. We've got time to breathe now, though.” He reached inside his uniform, drawing out a small metal flask.

“Hey, Dead Eye. What's that for?”

“Celebrating another day of not dying. Seems like we might not get that many anymore.” He opened the flask, passing it around. Will and Point each took a sip, not even flinching. Twinkle, however, coughed as it went down.

“Oh, Celestia! What is that stuff?!” Dead Eye laughed at her, sighing.

“It's heavily filtered rum. Not much flavour, but it does have a kick.” Twinkle took another sip, her smile returning as they all took refuge in a nearby structure, barricading the door.

--------====| Day 5 |====--------

Will was the first to wake, his head pounding. He could feel a small amount of blood pouring from his nose as he sat up, rubbing underneath his nose. Dead Eye, Point and Twinkle all slept in a pile on the other side of the room. Looking around the room, he squinted as he attempted to let his vision clear.

“Just how much did I drink last night?” He looked at the windows, sighing as he picked up his rifle, pulling what appeared to be some sort of carrot from the chamber.

“Apparently enough to cause a lot of problems.” Will lifted his rifle, aiming at the creature that stood behind him. The creature slowly pushed the rifle out of the way, frowning. His eyes were almost a solid shade of emerald as they flashed.

“Get out of here, traitors, before I-”

“Before you what? Kill us? We're on the same side, Equestrian. We're just not exactly... supposed to be here yet. Do not let them know of our arrival. I have some plans I wish to discuss with your leader. It is Star Swirl the Bearded who is the leader, right?” Will could only nod as the creature jumped out the window. Its form shifted as it took on a more bipedal form.

“Why help us?” The creature looked back, his eyes flashing once more.

“Because we are Equestria's allies. One country declares war, they declare it on us as well. We're... Changelings, by the way.” It drew a wicked looking dagger out from a sheath on its hip, disappearing into thin air. Will fell back onto his hindquarters, unsure of what to think.

“Changelings? Here?” Point crawled out from the three-pony pile, stretching as he stood.

“Will, what's going on?” Will hefted his rifle as he took cover beside the window.

“I think we got our reinforcements.”

--------====||====--------

The group left the gunsmithery as soon as they could move without difficulty. Will still looked moody as the pain from the hangover set in.

“Will, what's-”

“Can it, Point. Don't want to hear anything from you three.” They plodded along, stopping to examine the freshly killed gryphons lying in corners and in out-of-the-way places. Will reached down, pressing his fingers into a cut.

“What happened to them?” A shadow leaped from the rooftop, a gryphon falling down soon afterward, its throat slit. Dead Eye and Point activated their harnesses, their weapons aiming for the rooftops. More shadows leaped from the rooftops, gryphons falling everywhere. The night had begun to fall, making the shadows moving even more eerie. Twinkle glanced up, her eyes darting back-and-forth in an inquisitive expression.

“The forms are familiar, but any assassins are in the employ of Celestia in Canterlot.” Dead Eye, Point, Will, and Twinkle chased after one shadow, cornering it as it turned. A gryphon stared at them in fear.

“D-Don't hurt me! I never wanted to be a part of thi-” His voice was ended as a knife embedded itself in his forehead. A shadow from the rooftops dropped from the rooftops above them, a tight, sand-coloured robe bound around itself and its face, emerald eyes flashing in recognition.

“Shh. Find a place to hole up. We'll be meeting once more in the morning. Do not allow the enemy to find you, or you shall find yourself quite quickly with a blade to your throat. No, it will not be mine. They are not tolerant of your kind.” The shadow leaped again, landing on the rooftops once more, barely any sound. Point, Will and the squad ducked into a nearby building, closing the door as they sat down. Point removed his helmet and mask, looking at a mirror against the wall. His grey coat was streaked with mud and sweat, most of it caked on from the last few days spent hiding. Dead Eye removed his helmet and mask next, breathing a sigh of relief as he fell to his hindquarters. His brown coat was relatively clean, his mane a bare few hairs from the manecut he would have received as a part of joining the Armed Forces. Point looked back at the mirror, his own mane just starting to grow back. The grey lines he could see would never go away, but he did not care. Twinkle removed her helmet, letting a somewhat long mane uncoil from inside the metal bowl of protection.

“Finally we can take these off. I hated sleeping with these on.” Her coat was a light purple, her mane a magenta tinged with highlights of red. Point looked over at Will, who, predictably, had elected to keep his mask and helmet on.

“If you don't mind, I'll stand guard until the sun comes up.” The others nodded, Will standing in the doorway as they curled up in a pile to sleep, their weapon harnesses pulled off and folded together. He sighed as he resigned himself to his post, shaking his shoulders to keep the blood flowing.

--------====| Day 6 |====--------

The light rose to silence as the sun awoke above Luna's Cradle. Will stared out, his eyes bloodshot as he quickly glanced around. Point was standing beside him, an unconscious Twinkle on his back with blood trickling down from the base of her horn.

“What in Celestia's name happened, Will?” Will did not speak, but shuddered.

--------====||====--------

A few hours previously, the three ponies had been in a pile when something entered the room and made a beeline for the ponies. Will instinctively dove for them, grabbing all but Dead Eye and running, leaving their weapons harnesses. He turned when he heard a loud pop, greeted by the sight of what was left of Dead Eye, his head in a permanent state of confused shock. Twinkle was not waking up, while Point was flipping out.

--------====||====--------

“I don't ever want to see anything like that again. Dead Eye's dead, Point. We have to get to the edge of the Cradle. Find some way out of this place. I didn't even know Bilewyrms lived out this far!” Point stopped shaking, his eyes widening in fear.

“B-Bilewyrms?! You mean those creatures that burrow into another, and explode?” Will could only nod in silent agreement. Point looked down, his eyes still wide in fear. Bilewyrms were a relatively new discovery, small sandwyrms that had been mutated by residual energy from the Kepler's damaged core power plant. Point knew a lot about them, but the fact that any were there, when some had thought them eradicated, was a disturbing sign. Point stopped his train of thought to focus on the rooftops. Shadows leaped along them again, but they appeared to be heading directly for-

“Look out!” A shot rang out, one of the shadows diving to shove the three out of the way. The hood it had came off, revealing the changeling underneath. It sighed, looking up.

“All right, yeah. Jig's up, I guess.” He held out his hoof to help Point to his hooves.

“Who are you?”

“Specialist First Class, Oculus, Infiltration Corps on loan from Canterlot. Basically, we're here to help. We don't have much time. Even though we have taken some heavy pockets out, there are still a lot out there. The main bulk of the changeling force won't arrive until tomorrow, so we can expect small skirmishes until-” A hail of shells impacted the ground behind him, changelings falling from the rooftops.

“That was a crankshaft repeater, Oculus. I suggest we get out of the street.” Oculus nodded, leading the small squad to another building, keeping watch.

“So, what happened? I was told your squad was four ponies and a minotaur. We've got two ponies and a minotaur, so where's the-” He glanced at Point, whose look gave all the information he needed. He sighed, looking down at the ground. Twinkle began to stir, her eyes fluttering open.

“Anypony get the number of that transport that hit me?” Point let her off his back as she stretched her legs. She looked at the squad, counting quietly.

“Yeah, Dead Eye's... no longer with us.” She looked up, her eyes in shock as she processed the information. She fell onto her haunches, tears beginning to fall.

“How many of us have died for this?!” She screamed at the heavens, her tears stinging as she continued to sob. Point put his hoof around her, drawing her close. Oculus sighed, looking outside.

“Look, we don't have a lot of time. If we can't take care of some of those stolen crankshaft repeaters, we're looking at a total loss of life on the side of our reinforcements.” Oculus shifted, mirroring the form of Will.

“Impressive, but you need a-” Oculus silently drew out an oversized handgun, the eight cylinders loaded.

“Fresh out of your gunsmitheries, minotaur. Your people have an incredible knack for engineering, even if some of it has a tendency to, well, explode.” As if on cue, a gryphon popped out, only to be flung against an opposite wall with the force of a speeding train. Oculus sighed, shaking his head.

“I guess some of your friends have a flair for the dramatic, huh?”Oculus sighed, looking away. Will shrugged, looking out at the scene. Changelings and Gryphons were having it out with each other, many of them falling to the blades of the other side.

“The rest of you, take a rest. I will keep watch.”

“Don't you need to sleep? Refill the old steam engine of yours?” Oculus chuckled, shaking his head.

“That's the main difference between Changelings and other species. We don't require food, sleep, and sometimes oxygen, though only the crazy ones go into the water. Something about bugs and water doesn't sit well with us.” Point was already snoring in the corner, Twinkle on his side as Will hefted his rifle. 

“All right. Wake me if there's trouble.”

--------====| Day 7 |====--------

Point, Will and Twinkle awoke to the sounds of cheering. Slowly walking outside, they noticed some old Armed Forces trucks trundling through the main avenue of the expanded suburbs outside the First Sector. More of the Cradle's defenders trickled out, many more than Point had seen before. Much of who was there were was the wounded, those who had been hiding to keep from dying of blood loss or infection. Gryphons were being marched at gunpoint down the road, minotaurs who assisted them chained together like animals.

“Isn't that bad for them?” Oculus glanced at Point, who was pointing at the minotaurs.

“They got what they deserved. They'll be sent back to their homeland for a fair trial. Many of them did try to rip some of our forces apart.”

“Can you blame them?” The regal voice triggered an impulse to bow, Oculus merely nodding to the pony behind them. Luna walked forwards, sighing, her military garb only slightly different to the rest of the ponies and changelings around. Her normally effervescent twinkling mane was tied up in a short ponytail, her eyes set in a frame of irritation and anger.

“P-Princess Luna!”

“Benefactor!” She motioned for the ponies to rise, sighing as she touched her forehead with her hoof. She would have to talk to them about how to address her when she was wearing a uniform later.

“It's just Luna right now. Is Star Swirl all right?” She turned to face a small squad of seven, trailed by a medic with another pony leaning on them.

“As good as one can be after such an attack, my Princess. I did not expect the distress signal to go through so soon. The Cradle is again safe, but the rest of the world does know of the existence of the Cradle now. Many will demand that we hand over all we've learned. As Unit 3 told me, such technology in the hands, claws, or hooves of that which would be considered a tyrant or dictator would be ill advised. We need something that levels the playing field, something that could allow both sides – The Coalition and the Hegemony, of course – to work out terms and agreements-” Star Swirl looked to the side as a scientist galloped up.

“Star Swirl, sir! We have a problem!”

“What is the matter?” The scientist looked positively spooked as he shook in fear.

“The sensors we've been attempting to activate on the Kepler? They've come online on their own!”

“And?” Star Swirl could only gasp as the scientist collected himself and spoke his piece.

“There is a ship larger than that of the Kepler heading directly for the north side of the Gryphon Hegemony.”

“North side? But that's-”

“Directly on top of their capitol.” Star Swirl looked to the sky. In the far distance, a bright speck could be seen. It was boxy, but it was not falling apart in the atmosphere. 

“Celestia protect us.”