//------------------------------//
// Ballad of Wildcard III 
// Story: A Circle Has No End: Volume I 
// by Gladi Writes 
//------------------------------//

While the days sun fell below the horizon, and the cold wind became even colder from the lack of sunlight heat, Malgavian strode amongst his compatriots inside the Canterlot Mountain. In here, there was always warmth, and always a dim light cast by the magic torches everywhere kept it light, but not light enough to totally ward off the shadows. Balance between light and dark, allowing both to interplay, was a core part of the thestral culture and society. Mezza Luna had penned an order to extinguish the torches, thinking it best that the thestrals rely on their night vision, and that the mountain was no place for a pony.

She was gone now though, and that left Malgavian to lead. The thestrals had always followed whoever was the strongest amongst them, ever since the days when they lived under the yoke of King Sombra. Malgavian barely knew how to guide his people, but he knew that what he was doing was right. Even if it led to their end, he would never allow another fall from grace, not as long as he was alive.

So it had been that he ordered every able thestral to assemble within the mountain. It had only taken hours for them to cross the entire nation to arrive, as they all knew that any call to arms was surely important, and dropped anything to speed to Canterlot. Short and tall, male and female, young and old; every single able bodied thestral stood there, clad in the ornamental armour of their family. From above, an observer could see the deep purple of the original thestral families, and the dark reds and oranges of the other groups. The meaning of these colours had been long lost to time, and the origin of their ancestry only a historical footnote. It was still a beautiful sight to behold; an entire race united.

Malgavian himself stood on a high pedestal, which had long ago been the bearer of a gigantic statue of King Sombra. Now it was the base of an obelisk, a memorial to all those lost in the defence of Equestria. Malgavian stood before it, flanked by two of his trusted lieutenants- Helm and Carina. He wore the armour that Dusk had worn, long ago, during the battles of liberation. The dark purple armour, with an emerald shaped like an eye on the chest, was thousands of years old. He found it fit quite well, actually. Mezza Luna had been too short for it, and so had thankfully not besmirched it by wearing it herself.

His lieutenants both wore the thick, tempered steel, armour that represented their position. He had named them Protectors, and their word was law throughout Thestral society. They would be his eyes and hooves as he tried to reform them, and resurrecting the ancient order of the Protectors had sent a clear message as to the consequence of disobeying Malgavian. Long ago they had been the order tasked with ensuring even the leadership remained loyal to Sombra, and now they would ensure that even that leadership remained loyal to Equestria.

They looked rather proud of their position, as they looked down at their fellows with their chins held high. Once Malgavian felt he was ready to speak, he stuck out his hoof, and they stamped their polearms on the rock they stood upon. The crack reverberated through the giant cave, and echoed long after. Once the sound dissipated, all was silent. The entire race looked up to Malgavian, and none dared even cough.

“Thestrals,” Malgavian started, his voice amplified both by the high position he had, and by a subtle bit of magic in the armour he wore, “I stand before you today, after we have been brought so low, to bring you a chance to counter the shame that has been brought on us. Last night, dark agents of Queen Chrysalis struck into the heart of this nation, and a few brave souls died trying to stop them from their evil deed. Try as they may however, the changelings were not stopped, and last night they committed a grave atrocity. These cowards seek to undermine our nation by kidnapping a foal from her mother, who had barely held the child in her hooves before being so rudely interrupted. Now, I know that times have changed, and that officially I cannot ask you to action. Officially, we are disarmed; officially, we are mere executors of the will of the “police” force. Officially, we are unworthy of trust. So, I cannot order any of you to follow me, and I will not think ill of any of you that choose not to volunteer. Perhaps you are right to do so, perhaps it really isn’t our place to be smiting evil like the days of old. Perhaps it is better for us to step aside, perhaps. We have a chance here, however, to prove that is wrong! We have a chance to do what is right, to lay low those that will do evil, and to show the world who we really are! I will lead a volunteer mission to the changeling hive, and we will pave the way for a military advance tomorrow. History will not recall our brave sacrifice, there will be no direct evidence that we were there, and there is no support waiting for us if we fail. We never did what we did for glory, we did it because it was right. So I ask you, will you come with me, and do what is right?”

Malgavian ceased speaking, and waited for echoes of his strong voice to dissipate. The gathered crowd below stood still, starting up at him.

“Step for-“

Before he could even finish, the entire hundreds-strong herd of thestrals marched forward in lockstep, and looked back up at him.

Malgavian smiled, “This, this is who we are! We are the light in the darkness, we are the moon that always watches! We will do what is right!” he yelled, and pumped a hoof into the air.

The crowd roared back at him with a joyful cry, “We will regain our place of honour!” he yelled, and pumped the air to another cheer.

“We will never go quietly into the night, for Equestria!”

————

Outside Canterlot, deep inside one of the many new bunkers built for defence, Shining Armour struggled to fit himself into his uniform- the life of office work had been having a rather significant impact on his waistline- in his quarters. He had to look good for the troops, since he was after all about to launch an offensive that would probably see a good amount of them into the next world. He took a deep breath, and with a good solid pull he managed to pull the strap of the gold-plated armour around his barrel, and quickly did it up. He released his breath, and grabbed the table before him while he collected his breath. 

Beside the mirror, which was shaped like a heart (what wasn’t in Equestria?) there stood a picture of his wife, Princess Cadence. He sighed, and held it in a hoof, as he thought longingly of her. These days they rarely saw each other, and whenever they did it was inevitably just business. Now, they certainly made time for their own “personal business” after hours, but was it so much to ask to spend a week or two alone, just them, without having to worry about the fate of nations?

Shining shook his head, and put the picture back. There would be a time, and a place, but it wasn’t now. 

He turned around and frowned at his room. The bunker office he had been calling home for the last few months definitely wasn’t  the “place” either. The bedroom was little more than a cot, with a basic locker for clothes, and single rug that looked incredibly out of place on the concrete floor. An open doorway led into his “office”, which was just a bare desk and several filing cabinets full of assorted documents. Shining preferred to lead from the front, and rarely spent any time in here unless he had to.

Thankfully, he called the shots, so that rarely happened. 

Prim and proper looking, he cantered out of his quarters, and into the maze of thin concrete corridors that made up the winding facility. One of a few dozen, it was designed so that it would take as much time as possible for any southern advance to clear. Hopefully, that time would be enough for the Wonderbolts to pull an emergency retreat and come back home.

More hopefully however, that would never happen. 

Shining Armour made his way past a few dozen other soldiers, who all saluted as they passed. The commanders of the force should be assembled by now, so he made his way to the main meeting room. The concrete halls widened as he made his way deeper, and deeper, underground. After a few minutes walk, he approached the steel doors, and the two guards saluted smartly as they pushed them open.

Inside, seven ponies stood at the edges of a long table. Upon that table was a physical map of the continent, with unit markings kept up to date as well as they were able. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out the position Equestria was in. The south was like a giant blob of red, clustered around the dozens of formerly-independent cities and towns. This red blob was focused towards the west, where an encroaching green mass was cutting into it. 

Even so, the blue clay figures that represented Equestria’s own defences seemed only like a thin line between the wide empty expanse of it, and the chaos south of it. 

That thin line, today, was significantly thicker near Appleloosa- or what was left of it. Only a token force remained at the Changeling hive, the rest had been pulled back to that position. Said token force would abandon their position as soon as the sun set, and the game would begin. 

“Alright gentlecolts,” Shining said, and snapped his hooves together at the end of the table. Behind him was a map of the Changeling Hive, with several positions marked with Xs and military jargon.

“Here’s the gameplan. Night Guard is going to knock out the changeling's heavy anti-air batteries, and it’s a damn good thing since those guns can point at us pretty easily. We’ll have a clean shot to the wall. First Recon will arrive ahead of the main thrust, and plant explosives along the wall here…” He picked up a pointer, and pointed out a few X’ed positions near the northern wall of it, “… and here,” he finished, and pointed out a second set.

“The southern hole will be the main entry, and First Armoured will go in along with Second, Third, and Fourth Infantry. First infantry will go in through the western hole, and try to catch them in a crossfire. Contingency options are to simply blast new holes in the wall if needed- it isn’t that thick,” he said, and paused for questions.

Receiving none, he continued. “Once inside the hive walls, you’re going to encounter extreme resistance. Expect them to give no quarter, and give them none. These changelings are the extremists, the brainwashed die-hards that refused to accept friendship with Equestria. They will all die for their queen, and they will do it gladly. It’s going to be an absolute meat grinder in there, but we should be receiving support from the air, and with luck the loyalist changelings will have something up their sleeve too,” he said.

One of the commanders, known to Shining as Colonel Sandstorm; First Armour, stuck up his hoof.

Shining nodded, and he spoke. The pony had a rather thick Manehatten accent, and a rather thick barrel as well. The orange fur on his second chin wobbled as he spoke, “Sir, I don’t quite understand. I get that the changelings are a threat, but why don’t we just bombard them into rubble? We have the airpower for it,” he said.

The others nodded their agreement, and turned to Shining. He put his hooves down on the table, and looked down on them.

“That’s a good question, but here’s a better one: Why are we doing this now?” Shining asked.

Sandstorm shrugged.

“They kidnapped a foal, Colonel. We can’t bombard them because this is a rescue mission, not an assault. Taking down the changelings is a secondary objective, but one that will probably be unavoidable,” Shining said.

“Hold on,” another one spoke up. 

Shining turned to him. Colonel Hoofclaw, of the First Infantry. He spoke with a Ponyville drawl, and was [physically the opposite/ a funhouse mirror image - pre readers note which works better] to Sandstorm. It was with good reason the purple-coated stallion led the premiere infantry unit. 

“If they kidnapped a child, isn’t there a risk that they could harm it, or even kill it, to stop us? What about the refugees, did we just mark them for dead as well?” 

Shining rubbed his forehead, ethical questions in wartime always made his head hurt.

“No, Sentry, we haven’t marked them for dead. There’s a plan to get them all home, you can rest easy on that. As for the child, Chrysalis invited this when she stole it. Regardless of the risks, she must be stopped. We can never again allow the changelings to kidnap one of our people, once was too much.”

Flash stood down, and accepted the answer.

“Now then,” Shining said, and turned back to his map, “Once we have secured the courtyard, we are to dig-in and send sappers down into the caves. The fortress is supported by a network of chambers below, where they grow mushrooms. While it’s separated from the rest, we should be able to blow our way in. Once the sappers have accomplished that, we’ll storm them from below. We should be able to bypass their entire defensive network, and if all else fails we can dig in down there and starve them,” he said, and turned for more questions, “Understood?”

“Yes Sir” they all replied.

Shining nodded, and placed the pointer on the table, “Good. Now, this isn’t going to be easy, and we’re going to lose a lot of good ponies out there, but remember why we’re doing this. She stole a foal for Celestia’s sake, and we’re going get it back. We’re going to get it back if I have to send the entire Legion to it’s grave, do you understand me?”

The commanders nodded.

“She stole a foal,” Sandstorm said, “that’s beyond evil. I would gladly die knowing I was helping putting an end to a monster like Chrysalis,” he said.

Hooflclaw slapped him on the back, and Sandstorm jumped a bit in surprise, “I had no idea you had such nobility in you, Sandstorm! Maybe we should just drop you in, you can sit on her and save us all the trouble!” 

Hoofclaw laughed giddily, and slapped his hoof against the table. Sandstorm blushed awkwardly, and looked to Shining Armour pleadingly, wordlessly begging to be allowed to leave.

Shining cleared his throat, and magically bonked Hoofclaw on the back of the head to get his attention, “Alright, now go collect your units, and get some rest. We set out an hour before dawn tomorrow- that’s 5AM- and I expect those those tanks to be fully operational, Sandstorm.”

Sandstorm nodded meekly, and quickly excused himself from the room.

Shining Armour stayed for a bit, and pondered the war-map on the table. The force they were sending to the hive was all they had for defence in this region, and it would be tied up in the Hive. If the southern armies knew of this, they could strike at the very heart of Equestria- Canterlot. It was a supreme risk, but it was one that had to be taken. Equestria was founded on the ideals of friendship, and if it was one thing friends did, it’s stick up for each other. So Equestria would put i’s life on a dagger's edge to save one foal, because each Equestrian knew that the others would all do it for them in an instant. To think otherwise was inconceivable. 

The changeling hive was marked with a jagged clay horn, painted black. It floated into the air, buoyed by the magenta coloured magic that flowed from Shining’s horn. For a moment, he considered giving Chrysalis an offer to surrender. She was certainly a rational being, even if she was selfish and evil. 

Then, with a grin on his face, he crushed the clay figure into dust. He couldn’t offer a surrender, because he knew he would never be able to force himself to honour it. Chrysalis was going to die, even if it took the entire Legion to do it. 

——

First Class came up the boarding plank to the Ace in the Hole, flanked as always by the two thestrals she took with her everywhere. She didn’t know their names, and that suited her just fine. They were her tools, not her friends, and it was best to not get too attached.

The Wonderbolt guard at the top of the plank quickly flapped into the air to let them pass, not even bothering to question them. When she went into the ship, she was forced to take a position behind one guard as they went through the thin corridors. The crew they passed as they made their way to the bridge darted out of their was as if First Class was a demon from another world, and she was buoyed by the sense of respect. 

When she came to the bridge of the ship, an old-style wooden room with a simple wheel before a sweeping window, she found Spitfire looking out that window, otherwise alone in the room. The bridge of a ship like this was much simpler than something as extravagant as the Magnificent, with only a basic communication system beside one chair, another for the captain to be seated, and the aforementioned steering wheel. Spitfire stood near the window, looking out at the grey and snowy valley beyond. 

“Air Martial Spitfire,” First Class greeted, and trotted in. Her guards took positions near the door, with a fluid elegance and utter silence.

“Minister?” Spitfire questioned, turning from the window, “What are you doing here? This is a military ship, Minister, and no place for a lady such as yourself.”

“No place for a lady like me? Dear me Spitfire, you seem to have forgotten who it is that ordered this whole venture,” First Class scoffed. 

Spitfire flashed red with rage, but decades of dealing with officials had trained her to keep her cool.

“Be that… as it may, this is still a military ship, and under my command. We’ll be heading out soon, and this is too dangerous a place to have any important ponies of state idling around,” she said, as she watched First Class slowly trot around the room.

“Idling around? You think I’m here just to watch, to make sure my orders are carried out? Do you really think I’m so vain, Spitfire? Do you think I’m going to take notes on your approach, and draw up improvements when I get home? No, you misunderstand me Spitfire,” She said, and trotted around the steering wheel.

“I’m here to command,” she said, and slowly dropped herself into the captains chair.

Spitfire was shocked into silence, and her glance darted from First Class, to her guards, and back again.

“This operation has personal significance for me, Spitfire. I don’t just want Chrysalis dead, I want to know I had a part in doing it. If I can manage it, I’ll be the one that lands the final blow as well,” First Class said, and crossed her legs as she settled into position.

“Is that a problem?” 

Spitfire looked again at the guards, who only looked back at her steely gazes. Clearly unable to fight this, she gave up.

“Fine, but why call me here then? If you’re going to lead this whole thing, why did you call me back from the south?”

First Class grinned, and stood back up to face Spitfire.

“Because I want you to know who’s in charge, and I want everyone else to know too. When they all see Air Martial Spitfire, greatest Pegasus of our time, taking orders from a mare that didn’t even graduate from the academy, they’ll know too. Don’t you remember, Spitfire? You kicked me out, humiliated me in front of my friends,” she said, and stood muzzle-to-muzzle with Spitfire.

“I’m returning the favour.” 

———

Wildcard wasted no time collecting Silver Shield from the hospital. He was still in bad shape, and  it would be weeks before he had full-use of his right leg again, but Wildcard needed all hooves on deck. He explained his plan as they trotted down the street, while Silver did his job and fired a magical green flare over the City of Canterlot. All of Equestria would see it, specifically the scattered loyalist changelings. Or, Loyalist relative to Equestria anyway. Relative to Chrysalis they were violent rebels, revolutionaries, and usurpers of Her Highness's throne.

Well, not quite the latter yet, but soon. Very soon…

By the time the pair arrived at the train station, Silver Shield had been fully briefed. They waited inside the terminal for their fellows to arrive, taking generic pony disguises for themselves and then slowly over the next few hours a trickle of assorted ponies became a torrent, until in the early evening the terminal was full of a few hundred ponies, all looking utterly confused and trying to remain unnoticed by the rest. Wildcard found it quite funny to watch, an entire room of changelings undercover trying to fit into the crowd. Some decided to read newspapers, those that had arrived together talked amongst themselves in the shadows- which had become quite crowded now- and the braver ones simply strolled around. 

After a few minutes Silver Shield poked him, and pointed at the crowd with a frown on his face. Wildcard sighed, and shook his head, “you just hate fun, don’t you?” he groaned.

Silver slapped him on the back of the head, and Wildcard shot out of his seat. All eyes turned to him, and he dropped his disguise with a shimmer of green light.

“You can stop pretending now, you know,” he said.
There was silence as the changelings all looked at one another, and then the bolder ones dropped their disguises as well. After around a minute of green light flickering throughout the room, Wildcard found himself standing before the hundreds of changelings that had made Equestria their home. Mostly leaders that came here seeking fortune and the warriors that been taken as protection, but here and there a warrior stood separate, part of the military exchange from long ago that had since collapsed, or perhaps driven out of the hive by some personal failing.

These, Wildcard knew, were truly his people. Those that remained at the hive were already lost, and the most they could do was ease their passing. This would be the last “true” generation of changelings, and that was no sad loss. 

Wildcard stepped back, and stood on the bench he had been sitting on before, “well come closer everyone, I don’t bite!” he shouted down the hall.

They slowly formed up before him, and sat down on the floor. They all looked up to him for guidance and order, just as he had once looked up to Chrysalis and Medulla. Whatever he told them to do, none of them would question it. They knew it was in the best interest, whatever it was, and would follow his orders to their own ends if need be. That was their greatest strength, and their greatest weakness. That unquestioning loyalty made them an indomitable foe, but it was also the reason Chrysalis had been able to rule for so long. If they had only questioned more, and followed less; there would be no need for the mission they were going to undertake.

Wildcard spoke to his people, and only hoped he would prove their loyalty was entrusted with the right person.

“The day has come, everyling. The day that we have long feared, and hoped for anxiously, has come. We are going back to where we started, and we are going to end the long terrible reign of Chrysalis over us- forever. Chrysalis has stolen something dear to me, and I intend to get it back with your help, and ensure she can never again commit such evil!” he said, and buzzed up into the air.

“Chrysalis has stolen my child, my own foal! It was not enough for her to have stolen our foalhoods from all of us, and to keep us as her own personal slaves for generations, no, she had to take more!” he yelled, and could feel the shared rage below.

“She has lied to us, she has treated us like her property, and she has sent us to our deaths for no reason but to enhance her own vain power. She has had us commit atrocities in her name, and she has kept us from our true home! Equestria is our home, and freedom is our birthright! Chrysalis wants to take both of these from us, to keep us in the hive and to steal our own love! She wants us to live in fear of her, and the few that are still brainwashed and under her command. I ask you all, are we going to allow this to continue?” 

"No!" Was their collective cry in return.

“Good! Then follow me, and tonight we will strike back! Tonight we go back to where we were born, everyling, and tomorrow?” 

He paused for effect.

“We go home.”

And so he led them out of the terminal, and to an empty passenger train a ways down the tracks. It had been brought here earlier, and was loaded with the weapons Silver Shield had hoarded, as well as a good deal of explosives. Regardless of victory or defeat tomorrow, Wildcard would make damn sure Chrysalis was in no position to ever hurt anyone again. The changelings boarded the cars of the train, while a few dozen of them circulated the information that Silver Shield had told them. Wildcard and Silver approached the front of the train, where the conductor stood waiting with a rather short changeling warrior staring at him.

Wildcard strode up, looking curiously at the changeling, “Hey, gamma,” he said, and the changeling turned to him.

“I’m called Fang now,” he said in return.

“Right… Fang. Go get back with the others,” Wildcard ordered.

“I want to drive the train,” Fang said back.

Wildcard had been quite unprepared for such a blatant disregard for his order, and Silver Shield laughed to himself at his side.

“You want… to drive the train?” Wildcard asked.

Fang nodded, and Wildcard cocked his head at the conductor.

The pony shrugged at him, “It’s a train, it’s not all that hard to get from point A to B. The finesse is all in making it smooth, and getting the most out of the fuel you’re given. If you’re just going to haul plot to the hive or whatever, well a foal could probably drive the thing,” he said.

“So you can show… our friend here, how to drive?”

The driver shrugged again, and Fang wagged his tail.

Wildcard looked to Silver, who shrugged, and then shrugged himself.

“Fine, you can dr-“ 

Fang yipped in excitement, and scrambled up into the engine before letting Wildcard finish. 

“Hey uh…” the driver awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, clearly curious about something but not wanting to actually ask it.

“What? Get on with it we’ve got to get moving,” Wildcard said.

“You guys sure brought a lot of guns and explosives, you’re uh, going to do something about that queen of yours?” he asked.

“We most certainly are, my good sir,” Wildcard replied.

The pony clacked at the ground, “Well uh… I ain’t much for shootin’, but I can hold my own in a scrap. I would love to kick some bug plot, show that Queen who’s really in charge!” 

Wildcard wasn’t sure how to reply to that, but Silver was “you want to come with us?” he asked.

The pony nodded.

“Sure, why the hell not? Just don’t expect any special treatment. We’ve got plenty of guns, but you’re on your own when the shit hits the fan,” Silver told him. 

“Oh, don’t you worry about me!” the conductor said excitedly, “yeehaw! I’m going on a bug hunt!” he added, and quickly darted up into the engine.

Wildcard cocked his head at Silver, “Are you… sure about that?” 

Silver shrugged, and started trotting off towards the other train cars, “What’s the harm in another fighter? Worst case scenario he dies a hero,” he said.

Wildcard followed him to the caboose, where Silver had his elite warriors waiting. They were definitely a sight to behold, all those green eyes seemed to stare right through you, and they were clad in the experimental armour stolen from Southrop-Grumman. They had those automatic rifles too, and could probably take on a good chunk of the Equestrian Legion by themselves. 

While Wildcard geared up himself, the train shuddered into motion, and they started on their way. Wildcard only wore a thin fatigue jacket, and clipped a pistol to his leg. Hopefully he wouldn’t see too much direct combat. 

Once he was done, Silver prodded him, and offered him a black combat vest. It was moderately heavy, and the pockets bulged out from something inside.

“What’s this?” Wildcard asked.

“What does it feel like? I for one am not going to let them take me alive if we fail. Either we succeed, or the entire race ends right here,” Silver said.

Wildcard opened one of the velcro pockets, and was greeted by a stick of dynamite. 

“Sweet Luna, Silver, you can’t be serious. Suicide vests? Are you that doubtful that this will work?” Wildcard asked.

“No, but you said it yourself- this can’t go on. Chrysalis can’t be allowed to use us as her slaves, not anymore. Either we defeat her, and come back to Equestria a free people,” he said, and again offered Wildcard the vest, “or we don’t come back at all.”

Wildcard stared at the vest, and considered Silver’s wisdom. He thought back to what he had done for Chrysalis, and what he had seen her do to others. He looked at Silver, and the dozen elite changelings behind him, and noticed that they weren’t wearing armour at all, the vests simply looked like it.

So he put it on, and watched Canterlot fade into the background from the window. For the first time, he wasn’t sure if he would see it again.