Parts of the Everfree were in flames. It was hard to imagine, considering all the controlled burns Applejack had been apart of in the past had been miserable, fizzling failures, but now... Now, as she galloped frantically down the forest paths, foamy sweat flecking off her coat, Applejack could see the flames licking up into the air all around her. Lumps in the flames were recognizable as Seraph, by the cartload even, but others... others were ponies, or gryphons, curled or hunched into husked shapes that would haunt Applejack's dreams for a lifetime. And her family was somewhere amongst this devastation.
As she passed one clearing, terror and horror filled Applejack's eyes: Zecora's hut, the mysterious yet strangely hopeful little place that it was, was engulfed in flames. But as her sharp eyes flicked around it, Applejack managed to force herself to relax and run on- many of the fetishes and objects hanging on the outsides were missing. Zecora was long-gone, and hopefully with the refugees under the Princess' shield. For whatever relief that that could give them in such a dark time. Sometimes being the Element of Honesty was a curse, and this was one of those times. Every little thing her mind could bring up to try and lessen the impact of the devastation was immediately smacked down by her Element, the stark truth burned into her brain. If she was totally honest with herself, Applejack knew, deep down, that everypony was doomed.
A crackle of musket fire drew Applejack's attention; the deep roar of the noise managed to break through the more monotonous crackle of the blazing fire around her, and with a desperate cry, she shoved through a fiery bush, thankfully nothing of herself catching fire in the process. Big Mac, dressed in his massive steel armor embossed with the insignia of the Ponyville Militia, stood at the forefront of a thin line of admittedly ragged militia ponies. His bulk was inspiring, like a living god he strode through the stallions and mares, directing their well-rehearsed routine of reloading and firing en masse. Dozens of Seraph had fallen in front of the militia, more than likely their initial tactic of mass charge having failed. But now they had managed to get behind the cover of so many fallen trees, red lights flickering out to stab and kill ponies indiscriminately. To Applejack's horror, one light stabbed out and hit her brother full-on in the chest. He merely paused mid-step, took a deep breath, and continued to move down the line, ignoring the deep black mark staining his chestplate. It did little ease Applejack's worry, however. Her brother was just as stubborn as she could be, and in a situation like this...
As Applejack began to sprint towards the line, she spotted a flicker of purple magic as several sharpened branches and even balls of flame flung out from behind the militia lines and towards the Seraph. Standing behind the line and gleaming like a goddess of battle, Rarity was in full-on unicorn magical stasis, rising up in her own purple magic, eyes gleaming a bright white. Fallen muskets, bayonets, musket balls, and various forest debris hung in the air around her like a cloud, and small bunches would launch out to shred any Seraph that stood standing above their cover too long. It was a strangely beautiful sight, one Applejack cataloged for later study. Her concerns were deeper than that at the moment, as beneath Rarity, laying huddled together...
"Applebloom!"
At the sound of her admittedly ragged voice, Applebloom's singed head shot up from the pile of multi-colored fur that was her and her friends, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle. Her eyes were bloodshot from fright and smoke, but for now, she was alright. That was all that mattered to Applejack. The two sisters embraced in a pile of sobbing, squeezing pony flesh, Applejack's hooves jerking out to hold both Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle in the hug as well.
"Are ya'll alright?" Applejack managed to choke out, gazing at them wide-eyed.
Scootaloo managed only a tiny nod, hugging onto Sweetie Belle's neck; Applebloom however, was wailing softly into Applejack's neck with all her heart, tears soaking the fur and washing away the soot from the burning forest. She could hardly speak, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what had her so upset. The only home she had ever known blasted away in a blink of an eye, Granny's grave on that little hill behind the barn, their orchards... all gone. All aflame. Closing her eyes for a moment, Applejack rested her chin softly on her little sister's head, snuffling her mane tenderly. Applebloom needed some kind of reassurance. Applejack knew that, she just... could she really outright lie to her, tell her it was going to be alright?
"Appleb-"
"They're coming back!"
Rational thought blasted away in a split second as Applejack flung her sister and her friends back behind a tensing Rarity, charging up to muscle her way into the militia lines. She had gone through the same drills as all the ponies in Ponyville, and once she had found a fallen musket, she had quickly managed to rip off the gunpowder paper and pour it into the pan, readying the weapon. Across the smoldering field, littered with bodies both equine and Seraph, the black mass was beginning to surge out, screaming gutturally in whatever language they called their own. The firelight was reflecting off their strange arm-blades and glinting hellishly, grating the ponies' already frayed nerves, and as they charged, soot and dirt flung themselves up in a cloud. There were so many... So many... Applejack's hoof tightened in the trigger...
Something big and arrow-shaped screamed overhead at speeds only Rainbow Dash could possibly reproduce; so massive that Applejack, for a split second, thought that Canterlot had exploded, and she had witnessed a building screaming by. Following it with her head, all she could see before it vanished in the trees were three brilliant points of fire. And the world ended around her. With three distinct, almighty thuds, three objects slammed into the no-man's-land between the two opposing forces. Frightened and dismayed, disjointed musket fire rippled up the pony ranks, while confused, broken screeching erupted from the Seraph as they ground to a halt in the midst of the dust cloud. Applejack managed to hold her fire, raising the body of the thick musket to shield herself from the dust.
From within the cloud, three blasts of wind erupted, clearing the dust away from the ponies, and allowing them to see the intruders to their last stand. They were gigantic, easily six meters tall, and humanoid, with a body vaguely reminiscent of minotaurs, including two standing legs, and two arms at the side. The heads were box-like, and from Applejack's perspective at the edge of the line, she could see a straight line of red taking the place of eyes. Large backpacks seemed to rest on their metallic backs, with gaping vents on each side of these. And resting in their hands with the largest, strangest muskets Applejack had ever laid eyes on. Another blast of air rushed from the three metallic automatons, and she paled at the deep bass voices that issued from the strange intruders.
Online.
**********************************************
It was an utter cacophony outside the freighter. The chainguns were roaring away at full speed, brass flying away from the barrels and pinging to the ground like so much rain on a tin roof. If the ground hadn't been muddy enough for them to pressed into the dirt, walking would have been quite difficult. Thankfully for Christie Franklin, Medic of Aegis Team 265, is WAS muddy, as she was racing all over the battlefield. The Seraph had done a horrific number on their equine allies; when 265 had set down in one of the major choke points between the Canterlot highway and the mountainside, Christie simply had not imagined the sheer number of casualties they would be faced with. Slash wounds, amputations... Triage was the only way to work through them all. And the Seraph did not discriminate. Stallions, mares, foals, male and female gryphons and Diamond Dogs... Any they did not kill, they maimed. And it left Christie with a nearly overwhelming of the screaming, praying, whimpering near-damned.
Earth had not suffered a major conflict in nearly one hundred years, not since the founding of the Terran Republic. Medical practices nowadays usually dealt with no wound more serious than from industrial accents or accidental spaceship crashes. Christie had been working as a field medic and paramedic for ten of her twenty-six years of life; she thought she had seen the worst scenes the galaxy had to offer. She had been so very wrong. And she was so very committed to her task.
"Keep the families together!" she barked to several of the surrounding teams, "They need to keep each other calm! Hey, HEY! Focus on the patients, NOT the battle!"
People did not expect the four-foot eleven, mousy little woman with goggle-glasses and freckles to have as powerful a set of pipes as she did. But Christie typically only had to shout once before someone would listen to her on a scene. And on this day, that remained the same. Dozens of medics rushed about the triage center, obediently keeping their heads down and eyes focused on their patients, not paying the red mist outside the shimmering shield any mind. After giving the scene an once over, Christie gave a firm, grim nod, and turned back to the crowd.
"Please! Please, for the love of the Sisters, somepony HELP US!"
"CHRISTIE!"
Christie's head jerked to one side in surprise as one of the Security detail raced over to her, cradling a little white unicorn in his arms. For a moment, she thought it was another foal, till the mare's liquid ruby eyes opened to peer pleadingly at her. The face quickly clicked in place, even as Christie took the white mare from the Security grunt, racing towards a tent with a grey Earth Pony in hot pursuit. DJ Pon-3, also known as Vinyl Scratch, had become something of a sensation among Terran youth in the past ten years. Her various styles of music, coupled with those of her wife Octavia Melody, had grown wildly popular during the Trade, and Christie herself was a rabid fan. But she had business to take care of first: namely, saving this VIP from bleeding to death from her cleanly amputated hind legs.
"What happened?" Christie asked quickly as she raced into the sterile medical center inside the Aegis freighter, trying to keep her voice calm and not too terse.
"The... t-the Seraph cornered us on the r-road," Octavia managed as calmly as she could possibly manage, tears tracking trails down her dusty cheeks, "About t-ten of them. We... we tried to f-fight, but... one picked Vinyl up..."
To Christie's surprise, Octavia sucked in a deep breath, fighting back what she could tell was a powerful wave of panic; after a moment, she continued, voice quiet, calm, and nearly dead, "I kept the wounds as clean as possible. A team of your humans saved us, and gave Vinyl morphine. They said not to give her anymore."
Nodding grimly, Christie managed an impressed smile for the traumatized Earth Pony as she turned to her wife, letting out a slow breath. Vinyl Scratch had passed out, twitching faintly and whimpering every few moments. In all her photos and posters, the little white unicorn had always seemed in control and strong, a wide smile always splitting her muzzle. Christie would be damned if she was going to let some overgrown mutant cats take another star out of the galaxy.
***************************
"Mr. President, there's more of them!"
Marcus Tanbor tore his eyes away from the sun-bright, plasma-leaking enemy to glare over at the technician in charge of the sensor console, a small, black haired man no older than twenty-five. The man, practically a boy, quailed under the questioning glare of the President of the Terran Republic.
"C-computer counts over five hundred ships, sir! Just jumped in from FTL."
"How big are they?" Marcus asked tersely, dreading the answer.
If they were all the size, and strength, of the battleship they were dueling now, the human mass fleet would take more casualties than Marcus could have ever guessed. But to his utter relief, the sensor technician quickly shook his head, turning back to peer at his moniter.
"The biggest seem to be no larger than one of our frigates, and most could be classed as corvettes, sir," he replied, sounding somewhat relieved himself, "But they're incredibly fast. They'll be within range in fifteen minutes."
Nodding to himself, Marcus turned back to the viewscreen, gazing thoughtfully down at the blazing battleship; as he thought, hundreds of missiles launched from the Ameri-Canadian battle line impacted along her port side, a few managing to punch through enough to add to the quickly growing plasma-blue brilliance burning within the ship. So far, he had lost ten ships to the monstrosity: all frigates, but one of the Venusian battlecruisers was the current focus of its wrath, and they were preparing to pull back for emergency repairs. Killing this one ship was taking far too long- every minute he waited deploying the bulk of their ground forces, the more Equusians would be butchered on the ground, Aegis and Assault teams or no. He had not wanted to risk the transport ships, but...
"Tell the Martian and Pan-Asian battlelines to turn into the newcomers and hit them head-on!" Marcus barked to his officers, "The main battle line will power forward, and engage the battleship at point blank range. While we do that, give the greenlight for the Venusian transports to make for the planet's surface, followed by the Martians, and finally the Primaries. We'll draw the battleship's fire and keep the ground troops safe."
And lose a few of us in the process, Marcus mused grimly, glaring hatefully at the beautiful, deadly enemy they had come to face.
His hands gripped his chair tightly as the lights from the consoles around him registered his orders, and the Yamato began to rocket forward. Twitching a finger, President Marcus Tanbor opened a channel to the pony military officers and their princesses waiting below. After a moment, he directed side channels to the communication hub ships for both the Assault teams and the Aegis Program ships. They needed to hear this too.
"Equus? Our main force has begun landing procedures for the main ground force. Might want to cover your ears; this is going to get loud."