//------------------------------// // One // Story: The War for the Sun & Moon // by Maxes Altho //------------------------------// “Two days ‘til retirement,” the night guard moans as he trots the catwalks. He should be fine; nothing’s ever happened to this old warehouse anyways. It just so happens Queen Applejack wants him on high alert tonight of all nights. “Let’s hope the bonus she promised is good enough.” Usually, his job consisted of just sitting on his flank in the guardroom, watching the warehouse through the multiple cameras positioned throughout. Hey, that’s one upside to Empress Twilight taking over: Equestria saw a huge technological boon in the past twenty years. Telephone, and by extension the handheld radio, recorded media (like the cameras), air vehicles, even weapons of fantasy thirty years ago were alive today. Sitting in a cushy chair, sipping fresh-brewed coffee was definitely better on his aging bones than walking around, checking every nook and cranny of the place. He telekinetically nudged his sidearm in its holster under his leg. It was standard issue, small, only meant to slow down a potential intruder. The guard sighed. Nothing ever happened here, but if the Queen— “H-hewwo? Hewwo? Is anywone thewe?” What? The guard scans the shelves below, and catches a glimpse of a short tail going behind one. There should be nopony else here! He descends the nearest stair, and pursues the lost filly. “Hewwo? Can somepowny hewp me?” “Yes, where are you? Please, you don’t have to be sca—” he rounds the corner to behold not a filly, but a fully grown mare in black clothes with an evil grin on her face. “Scared? Man, Ventri doesn’t need to be scared; you should be,” says a deep voice from behind. He doesn’t have time to turn before a hoof collides with his head, sending him into the nearest shelf, unconscious. Ventri pouts. “Come on, Tank! You could’ve at least let me have a bit more fun!” “Oh, shove it Ventri. We’ve got a job to, remember?” Tank reaches into his pocket and produces a radio. “This is Tank. Guard is down. Proceed with the objective.” With nary but a whisper, five more ponies in stealthy black suits slither out of their hidey-holes and begin searching the warehouse. About five minutes later, Tank’s radio squawks “Sir. I have located the target. Uh… you might wanna see this, sir.” Tank trots over to his Number Two, who is nudging towards a large open box. Within is not blueprints, documents, or weapons as their intel showed, but a note attached to a timer. Better luck next time! 10…9…8… “It’s a trap!” Everypony is somewhat panicked, trying to escape as quickly as possible. 5…4… Some sixth sense of Tank’s kicks in, and he looks to the rooftop windows. The moon is glaring brightly through them, except for the one on the end. 2…1… “MECHS!” With a crash, a ten-foot monstrosity leaps through the window, coming down with a bone-jarring thump. It is vaguely pony-shaped, somewhat like a fabled alicorn, but with differences. Instead of wings like a bird, it has two giant guns on its sides. Instead of a horn, on the head is something akin to a lightning spike. The mech wastes no time in locating its first victim. It charges, and crushes Ventri’s barrel with one huge armored hoof. It then opens fire on a group of the intruders, reducing them to shreds of magic-filled strips of flesh. Tank tries to run for the front door, but is stopped when it opens, and a sight worse than a ten-foot killing machine arrives. He doesn’t even have time to react as a blast of magic pierces his heart and sends him tumbling to the ground. Long, powerful legs step over the body and approach the mech. Several other beings fan out around her, securing the rest of the facility. The being speaks regally, but with a strange, insect-like buzz, and the slightest hint of a southern drawl. “Hello, brother. Ah trust you are unharmed?” “Eeyup.” A voice sounds from within the monster, deep and metallic. “Good. Don’t want ya getting rusty, am I right?” “E’Nope.” Suddenly, a weak laugh comes from behind. Both turn, and behold the last surviving intruder. He is laughing, and coughing up blood. “Yo-you think you’re so *hack* invincible… you are weak. *cough* we know the Goddesses still li-live… you can’t hope to stop… The Warriors…” he breathes his last. The being quickly uses her magic to fish a radio out of a pocket of her suit. “Empress Twi, this is Queen Applejack. Tell Pinkie I owe her a hundred bits.” A voice, similar to hers, but a touch lighter, answers, “Good. Right as always, she is.” “There’s one spot that troubles me, though.” “What is that?” “These saboteurs, they’re from The Warriors… Twilight, they’re back.” ---------- Okay, that part might’ve confused some of the younger foals, so allow me to explain. About two years after the Fall, Empress Twilight and her Queens decided that the rebel factions needed to go. So they went about purging all their cities of rebellions. This was when most of the other small groups died out, and the large ones took major hits as their sites were found and summarily destroyed. The Warriors of the Sun and Moon were a smallish group who saw this coming a country mile away. Don’t ask me how, but the leaders knew. We went underground, and by that I mean deep. We disappeared off the map entirely. Like, ‘not-even-a-tuft-of-fur’ gone. Turns out, that was both the smartest and stupidest move. Smart, because the Empress’ forces (and the Queen’s specialists) stopped taking notice of the secret meetings we held, the intel we traded, etc. The stupid part? Grumbling is heard. Shut it, C. I know you owe the Warriors your life, but even you have to admit they fucked up from time to time. The stupid part was the anonymity meant we had a hard-ass time growing. We could search for those who didn’t like the Empire, but it was super difficult to try and contact them to have them join up. So, it was kinda a win-lose situation. We still grew, just much more slowly than our superiors wanted. Fast forward to FoC + nineteen point five years, and we get this recording. Our leader got a juicy bit of intel on a new weapon being held in a warehouse in Fillydelphia, so they sent our best team to retrieve it. As you can tell, it ended up being a trap, and Tank (God, I’ll always miss that sonuvabitch) and his team were slaughtered. The footage was captured by our best stealth pony, who was, obviously, the only one to survive. She retired soon after. This is important because this was the moment everything was thrown into motion. The Empress now knew we still existed, and with the conquests of the outlying countries mostly wrapped up, she could devote all resources to finding us. Thankfully, our eighteen years of hiding made it extremely difficult for all parties involved. For us, the War for the Sun and Moon had officially begun. Go again half a year later, and we find the day I discovered my destiny… More grumbling from C. Yes, C. Seeing as how we pretty much solved the whole thing, we have to talk about my giganto ego and how we got ourselves into this mess of a war. Go play with Tiny until we get to your part. ---------- Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. “Private Star, your mission is a go.” I open my eyes to behold a deserted city block. At least, it appears deserted. I know for a fact there will be traps on the street, combatants in the windows, and general muckaround necessary to stop me. My mission? Make it to the building at the other end of the block and secure the blueprints located inside. Easy peasy. I take a step forward, and a pony steps out from the side alley and, as his horn lights up, coats the street in front of me with liquid fire. Fuck! I catapult backwards, and dash down the other alley. I float my sidearm out of the holster as I near the end of the alley. It’s a simple thing, made to take the magic-filled cartridges, funnel it into the gun, and turn it into concentrated blasts of death. I don’t know how the engineers make it, ask Battleborn if you’ve ever got the time. I sidle up to the corner, and see another enemy, watching out the alley, waiting for me. Too bad the idiot never thought I’d be behind him. I pistol whip him to the back of the head, dropping him like a rock, and take up his sentry position. Cool! I’ve always wanted to pistol whip a guy! From my vantage point, I see at least three others watching the street I should be coming from, one in another alley, one Pegasus in a high window with a sniper rifle, and another in a storefront with a small machine gun. The sniper would be the one to see me no matter what I do, but thankfully, I’ve got my magic. It may not be strong, but I’ve more than made up for it in ingenuity. I don’t have super-duper TK, or destructive magic, healing, movement, transformation, elemental, or any of those other kinds of magic. What I do have is supreme mastery of anything relating to light, with a healthy dash of illusory magic. For example: I summon my magic, creating a simple ball of light in front of my horn. I infuse it with a few party favors, and launch it towards the building the sniper’s in. Sure enough, I hear the crack as the rifle fires, then a shout of surprise. After he hit the orb, it split into a hundred shards that fly up, then instead of falling down, a hundred Pegasi descend, all of them training guns on his position. He starts firing at the illusions. I use his distraction to dash towards his compatriot in the store. I down him with a quick burst from my gun. Now for the real fun. I concentrate, and all the remaining Pegasi turn into solid shards of light. I send them all at the sniper, and I hear several sickening crunches as they strike home. Three down, one clueless, and who the fuck knows how many more to go. I’m sure the street ahead is full of traps, as there aren’t any more ponies trying to kill me. Time for a magic reveal. I summon my magic again, but this time form it into shadows around my hoof. I rise up, then strike the cobblestone with all my might. A wave of shadow arcs forth, turning about a quarter of the stones ahead dark. One of my best tricks; I call the shadow to darken anything hidden, like spike traps, goop traps, stuff like that that are underneath the stone. Basically, if it’s heavier than a normal street stone, I now know it’s not safe. I gingerly step around the traps, confident I’m in the home stretch. Then, my hoof catches on something. SON OF A… my thought is cut off as arrows, yes, medieval honest-to-bucking-god arrows, shoot out of the alley. I leap forward, and trigger another trap. This one is a siren, meant to draw the attention of everything in the area. Shit shit shit shit shit! I’m running now, activating more traps in my wake, but I’m moving on pure adrenaline, avoiding most and leaving some nasty roadblocks for any pursuers. I stop inside a store a few streets down, breathing heavily. I’m leaning against a clothes rack, and checking my ammo. Plenty built up in the gun, and a few spares. I’m about to shove off towards the target when a quiet sobbing stops me. It sounds like a mare, coming from the alley right next to the store. Shit, there aren’t supposed to be any civvies in the area! I cautiously round the corner and see, yes, it’s definitely a civvie. She has her back turned, and is crying about… something. She is cradling something in her hooves, but I can’t tell what. “Uh, Ma’am?” I wander closer, watching for any hint of a trap. She just keeps crying. “Ma’am, what are you doing here? Uh, Miss?” I reach a hoof for her, when the sob turns to a cackle, and she turns on me, brandishing a knife and lunging at me. As the knife passes through my neck, the city block fades. I’m in a small dark room, with the worst thing ever blaring through the speakers hidden throughout. “Test failure, Private Shining Star. Please report to Drill Sargent Loudmouth for review. Welcome back to the real world, Shiny.”