//------------------------------// // Interlude: War Pt 1 // Story: Lost Magic And Betrayal // by Politicalunrest2400 //------------------------------// Sargent Tarnished Badge felt pain in his left front leg. He looked down, yup, it’s definitely broken, he thought to himself. Magic bolts of energy, gunfire and the screams of the dying soared over the battlefield, as he watched the manticore which had broken his leg, mutated with boils and bleeding lacerations almost beyond recognition, stalk towards him. Its hackles up, scorpion tail flicking back and forth sending deadly venom splashing against the walls of the trench. The beast, silhouetted by bright flashes of light in the darkness of the unnatural storm over head, black clouds mixing with purple magic auroras, came so close he could smell its rancid breath. “Come at me!” he growled in protest, knowing his death even as he saw it. “Come and burn with me in hell Mutant!” he yelled in defiance over the cacophony of the battlefield. The beast roared a challenge and charged forward, crocodile like jaws snapping, lion talons extended to rend his flesh. Sargent Tarnished Badge brought his gun to bear, biting down on the trigger, lances of laser fire met the charging beast, burning away its fur and scales, disintegrating its skin, exposing its raw muscles to the sulfur infused air. The beast, ignoring the pain, continued onward as if unscathed. Tarnished Badge screamed, both in pain and revulsion at the creature whose teeth cut through his muscle and bone as a knife would through butter, lifting him skyward throwing him into the air. Badge had one final act of defiance left to him. Pulling the pin on his last light bomb, he turned and through it straight into the waiting jaws of the hungry mutant beast. “DIE!” he screamed as he started his descent. Then all of the chaos, the pain of three broken legs, shredded back and torso, and ripped muzzle, disappeared as blackness met him through blinding light. --- “General Bolter! General Bolter! General!” the young Stallion yelled as he ran into the small command center from the chaos outside. The young private was bleeding from his left foreleg, an injury that in most situations would have earned him a swift trip to the medical tent. His presence there testified to those in the center of the severity of their situation. “What is it Private ?” the large, elder stallion turned, cape scraping along the floor leaving behind mud that had caked itself to the bottom of all of the generals cloths. The general scowled waiting for the report. “Yes sir!” the private said saluting. “Brigadier General Valley sent me, the left flank is in desperate need of reinforcement!” “And why did he send you and not log the request through his communications officer?” the general moved close, towering over the much smaller and younger pony. “The communications unicorn sir, he…he…he went mad sir! The storm it’s… it’s been doing things to the unicorn officers. My own officer put a bolt round right through his own skull the second he saw the purple lights in the sky… sir.” The privates words were almost a whisper, and his face had gone sickly green in stark contrast to his normally white coat. “General Valleys communications officer jumped from the watch tower they were observing the battle from… he didn't live long…” “I see. That's not the first report of insanity among our unicorn staff that I've received sense that blasted storm arrived. Well, we have prepared for this contingency have we not!?” he raised his voice, turning to address the whole command center staff who had stopped their work at the privates interruption. “You, go!” he pointed to a fast looking Pegasus who wore light travel armor. “Let the Royals know that the Betrayer has taken direct action in this battle!” pointing to another even as the first bolted from the room he said “Summon the arch-mages, bring them here! Tell them of the clouds, of the insanity that they have caused in some of our Unicorn personnel!” the second Pegasus ran out the door the private had just come from. “As for the rest of us, we have work to do! Let’s get to it ladies and gentlemen! Remember we are not in this fight alone! Our allies will come, but we must be alive when they arrive!” the small crowd of general staff didn't move, as if frozen in place. “Well, what are you waiting for!? Get back to work!” The center exploded with activity. General Bolter turned and looked down at the injured private . “As for you, go get yourself patched up soldier or you won’t be of any use later on.” Bolter brushed passed the smaller stallion, who had started to limp over to the small medical table on the far wall, and moved to where a weapons rack held some of the new much more formidable energy-magic based weapons that had been delivered earlier in the week. Using both of his front hooves, Bolter attached the blue glowing weapon the techies had called a ‘plasma gun’ to his helmet mount, and put the firing bit in his mouth, then turned to leave. A small uniformed earth pony mare stood in his way. “Sir? What are you doing?” she said voice severe. Bolter shook his head at his secretary in charge of logistics and base organizational management. “You can’t go out there, you will die, or worse get in another ponys way and get them killed.” She reached for his helmet trying to remove it. He stepped back and out of her reach, shaking his head. “You heard what that messenger said. General Valley needs reinforcements or his whole side of the field will fall. Well, I don’t have any additional reserves and there is nothing I can do from here, so I am going out there” he pointed one hoof toward the door that lead outside the command center and into the chaos “with my Soldiers.” He picked up a second set and handed it to her “Care to join? I can always use another good shot.” She took a determined step back, then said in a clipped professional tone “Lt. Golden Heart, Lt. Rolling Stone, the General wants to go into the battle field.” Two large earth pony stallions stepped up, flanking her on each side. “Yes Lt. Winds-Call?” said the purple coated Gold Heart. “The General is about to commit himself to battle. It is now your duty to protect him.” She bowed slightly toward the general in apology. “I would go, but I barely qualified for field duty on my last weapons test sir. “ Turning her attention back to the large stallions who flanked her she said “It will be your honor to escort him to reinforce General Valley on the eastern flank. Arm yourselves with the new weapons, and accompany the General, ensure his safe return. Do I make myself clear Guards-pony’s?!” Saluting crisply the two Stallions said in unison “Yes ma’am!” before moving toward the new weapons rack and attaching the blue glowing guns to their helmets. Each also armed themselves with the saddle mounted Lances that the guard-ponies were traditionally trained with for close combat. They were old weapons, but the Guard had found that even in this modern age of high powered weapons, the enemy usually got into close proximity. Despite withering fire from heavy Bolters, multi-lasers and other heavy weapons criss crossing the battlefield, on average roughly 1/3rd of the enemy would arrive at the trenches of the Guards lines. Their overwhelming numbers meant that the enemy could absorb those losses without blinking an eye. “Right, on me lieutenants! As for you Winds-call, I need you to coordinate with our allies when they arrive. Provide protection and treatment for the wounded when the supplies and reinforcements come from Fort Omega. When the Arch-mages get here, have them pour everything they have into breaking this storms grip, or failing that at least shielding our unicorns. Understood?” She saluted. Returning the salute, General Bolter turned and rushed out of the command center and into the waiting embrace of war. --- The cacophony of battle chased him as he ran flat out toward General valleys position. Jumping trenches, rallying squad after squad as he went, flanked by his two guards. Too his guard’s he looked every bit the master of war, confident, powerful, an Iron will that the enemy would uselessly break themselves upon. In his heart however, he felt a slight tremor of trepidation at the looks he got from his pony’s, they looked to him for deliverance… something he fully intended to provide, but was unsure if he could. General Bolter finally leaped into the trench that would lead him directly toward General Valleys command position, followed swiftly by his two guards and the roughly three dozen other guards-pony’s that had rallied behind him. He stopped, hooves up to his ankles in mud and dirty water, and sniffed the air. He could make out sulfur from las-fire, spent gunpowder from heavy bolter rounds and…. Something else he could not quite place. The purple lights seemed to struggle against the blackened clouds over head; far in the distance he could hear las-fire, and heavy bolters spitting death into the enemy’s horde of abominations. “Sir…” whispered Golden Heart. “It seems odd. Where is the enemy? Where is General Valley?” his voice carried only slightly farther then General Bolter, but their implications chilled the hardened veteran general to the bone. General Bolter lifted a hoof for silence, then motioned forward, teeth playing with the firing bit in his mouth anxiously. The General started forward slowly, the other pony’s following closely behind, spears at the ready for anything. The small force moved from trench to trench clearing and securing them as they went. General Bolter found a heavy bolter emplacement in completely perfect condition. “It’s almost as if they simply got up and left.” Lt. Rolling Stone said kicking over a full container of heavy bolter ammo. “They didn't just leave.” General Bolter pointed toward the ground, where the mud was particularly slick and even. “See that?” Rolling Stone nodded. “Pick it up.” The stallion was confused at first, but then put his hoof down on the oddly even mud, and lifted it. “Skin” General Bolter said, as he turned and walked out of the parapet. “What?!”Rolling Stone said shocked, as he looked under what he was lifting. A pile of bones and muscle lay under it in no recognizable order “They … they have been flayed alive!” he nearly screamed before Golden Heart put a hoof over his mouth and motioned for silence. The mud and darkness of the storm above obscured the blood as it ran out from under the hid that Rolling Stone dropped back down to the ground in disgust. Golden Heart looked over the emplacement, and he realized that there were quite a few piles just like this one. “What could have done this ?” he asked no pony in particular as he followed Lt. Rolling Stone, the last one out of the heavy bolter emplacement. General Bolter continued onward, ignoring the hundreds of piles of half obscured bones laid under the hides that use to contain them; once various vibrant colors, now so heavily caked in mud they were easy to miss. Rain ran off his helmet and down each side onto his shoulders. It wasn't natural, rain this time of year, particularly in the badlands. If there was rain it was supposed to be from warm summer clouds coming off of the eastern ocean to the south, not the ice cold rain that now chilled him to the bone, and caused his old joints to ache as he traversed the rough trench terrain. General Bolter realized that they were very close to where General Valleys sub-command center would be , he could see the small heavily armored watch tower that the messenger at central command had mentioned. Atop it there seemed to be a small group of pony’s with binoculars and long range weapons of various designs scanning the battle field. General Bolter saw one of these fire an over charged las-round at something in the distance, followed by a few of his fellows in the tower. “Sir” Lt. Golden Heart whispered. “Sir… I can’t hear that las-fire. At this range it should be easy to make it out, but there is nothing.” General Bolter nodded confidently in acknowledgment. I’m just an old ancient warfare professor from appaloosa, what am I so confident about? He thought to himself. “Don’t worry Lt. Heart. It’s just a spell. The enemy is using it to keep us from communicating or responding quickly to attacks. Its common enough, I’ve used it a few times on offensive operations myself. Relatively standard.” The General looked back briefly to check on the soldiers behind him. Their courage would not fail them he could see, at least not while he was with them. But there was fear there, real fear. Good, he thought, it will keep them aware. General Bolter motioned for the platoon sized contingent of rag-tag soldiers to stop. Then he motioned to Lt. Rolling Stone to bring the map forward. The map had been laminated, and given to him by a Sargent who he had sent back to the medical tents for a major injury to the chest, after rallying the Stallions soldiers and killing the manticore that had scattered them. The largest portion of the Stallions with him now, General Bolter realized came from that short engagement. Looking at the map, trying to keep rain and mud off of it the General planned his next move. Well… just around this next corner, we could take that trench all the way to the base of the tower. If we do, then we would be right in the thick of the fighting right next to General Valley and whatever Guards-pony’s he has left. If instead we continue along this path, it curves and takes us further north away from the station and up past who or whatever General Valley and his guards are shooting at. We could outflank them. On the other hoof, if they are a sizable force, or if they have heavy artillery or armor of some kind… well I would be leading these guards right into a death trap. “Lt Golden Heart, Lt Rolling Stone. Look here…” he pointed out the possible options and their dangers to the two junior officers as quickly as he could. “So... which would you take and why?” He asked them looking from one to the other as the other soldiers maintained defensive positions around them. Lt. Golden Heart was the first to break the awkward silence. “Sir… If General Valley and his guard-ponies are trapped, and we join them, we will be just as trapped as they are. I would keep on this path and try and outflank, whatever they are fighting, sir.” Lt. Rolling Stone nodded before saying “it is the best course of action sir. But I would suggest leaving three or four guards behind to secure this trench, and have one go to the tower and relay our plan of action in order to coordinate with General Valley, sir.” General Bolter had not thought of the last part, but it seemed like a sound idea. “Pfc Cherry Coal, Tart Apple, Hover Glow, stay here and secure this trench. You are protecting our way home Soldiers, if you fail we all die.” The three privates whose name’s he had called stepped forward, expressions sever and saluted before taking up defensive positions behind whatever cover they could find. “Lt. Dawns-gust,” the second Lt Pegasus saluted. “I need you to relay a message to that tower. Tell them we are going to try and flank the enemy, understood?” The Pegasus saluted, gave a quick acknowledgment of his orders and then took off down the trench. “Alright, the rest of you sorry lot get moving!” General Bolter spoke up so every pony could hear. “Golden Heart, Rolling Stone, you have point with me.” Pushing passed the two stallions, General Bolter followed the trench. The suction from the mud pulled on his hooves more and more as he moved. The water was slowly rising as they walked down and along the small hill that the command center was built on. The further north they went the harder it was for General Bolter to move, knees creaking, joints cracking as he moved stiffly through the mud and the rain; followed closely by his two body guards who were also struggling, though not as much as General Bolter felt he was. I just hope it’s not showing. Wouldn't do for these colts to think I’m too old for this. He thought to himself. Ahead of him General Bolter saw more of the too smooth mud patches, in the middle of a small dugout that also served as a crossroads for three trenches; the one he was traveling down, and two new ones springing off into opposite directions to the right and left. General Bolter motioned his two body guards forward to secure the dugout. A few guards-ponies silently followed them, providing support. The only sound that the General could hear besides the heavy bolter gun fire from further west that infused the background, was the suction noises that each of his soldiers made as they moved to secure the dugout. How could the enemy have gotten passed the primary defense line, killed all of the guards-ponies here in the secondary line and moved on without any of us knowing? Why did it take a runner to warn us? The General thought angrily to himself. Even a standard sound muffling spell would have given us some kind of indication that a fight was going on. “Be careful, watch and be weary always for the enemy seeks to have you. They seeks to sift you as wheat at harvest” The General thought, quoting an ancient warfare and tactics manual from a long forgotten civilization which disappeared before Equestria was founded, he had had his students study it, memorize it, treat it as sacred. “They will use tricks to trap you, lies to beguile you, and a sharpened knife to finally end you should you fail to be watchful.” He finished the quote in his mind as he scanned the dugout and surroundings carefully, watching as his two guards and the soldiers that followed them disappeared around the corners to the new trenches; scouting them briefly before returning. “No enemy’s in sight sir, both trenches are clear.” Golden Heart said as he made his way back to the General. “To the left then sir?” he asked motioning toward the trench that lead north-east. General Bolter nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the lip of the trench. He could feel something there, though he couldn't tell exactly what. “Lt. Golden Heart, I feel someone, something watching us. Tell the rear-guard to be on high alert.” General Bolter put the firing bit back in his mouth and toyed with the trigger nervously. Something was off, he just didn’t know what. Golden Heart saluted and ran off to fulfill his orders. General Bolter motioned to Lt. Rolling Stone to press onward, and again the only sound filling his their ears besides the background noise of far off battle, was the suction noises made as each guards-pony moved up the new trench. General Bolter felt a chill run over his spine, the hairs on his coat all stood on end. Another step forward, the world seemed to fill with noise, slapping him in the face with the cacophony of battle ahead of him. Lt Rolling Stone looked back at General Bolter, having taken point. “Sir! I think we are inside the spell now!” General bolter rolled his eyes. The Stallion was a great officer, brave and true to a fault, but he had an obnoxious knack for pointing out the obvious. Nodding General Bolter motioned for the rest of the guards-pony’s to enter the spells effective area. As the last of the rear-guard passed him he put a hoof out and stopped another fast looking Pegasus who had a head mounted, bit operated las-gun as her only weapon. “Pfc Yellow Dart, I need you to return to Central Command and tell them about what is happening here. Explain about the silencing spell, and tell General Gate’s that he is to send reinforcements as soon as he finishes securing his lines at western sub-command. Understood?” “Yes sir!” she said saluting crisply and flaring her wings. “Wait…!” he yelled, but before General Bolter could stop her she took off into the air, wings beating furiously. He watched helplessly as she darted away, as low to the ground as she could to avoid the storm. It didn’t help her much, as lighting struck out from the magically infused storm over head striking her midflight and turning her once bright yellow coat black as charcoal, as she fell to the earth, now too far away for them to offer any kind of help. “Dam it!” he said to himself, fighting down a wave of frustration. Las-fire cracked from behind General Bolter, impacting the mud walls in front of him. The General turned to face its source. “Contact!” yelled Lt. Golden Heart from the front of the group, even as Lt. Rolling Stone fired back a steady stream of plasma rounds from the new fierce weapons. “Enemies of the Chaos Lords Beware!” came a shrill voice from behind cover. “For we are Chaos! And Chaos is strong!” A Chaos worshiper of unknown origin stood out from cover behind a crate. General Bolter could now see the deranged worshiper of dark magic, he made out the tattered and ripped cloths that served as armor, the crazed smile, and the insane and exotic piercings through lips, tong, ears, nose, and even one through the deranged pony’s knee. Strange and shifting symbols were tattooed on the earth pony’s skin which was laid bare to the world, all of its fur shaven off. The General’s eyes seemed to flow off of the markings, and he had to focus hard to be able to concentrate long enough to know what to do. “FIRE! FIRE AT WILL! For Celestia! For Luna! For our homes, kill the heretic scum!” The General’s voice seemed to carry over the ever increasing noise of the battle with ease. Providing the stunned Guard-pony’s under his command with purpose and resolve despite the crazed lunatic spewing blasphemy’s, allowing them to return fire. The General bit down on his trigger, taking careful aim square at the chest of the deranged pony, allowing his H.U.D to make adjustments to his aim. The sociopath who was encouraging his fellow cultists forward, as they took cover behind crates, ammo boxes, or simply laid on the ground for lack of cover among in the trench. The plasma bolt burst from the jaw mounted barrel nearly blinding General Bolter in the process; the energy bolt hit home, and half of the cultist’s body was now melted into slag as the rest of him collapsed on the trench floor in a pool of water mixed with blood from the dying. The rest of the Generals guard-ponies were picking off the remaining cultists, when suddenly the few survivors stood and charged the disciplined firing line that the defenders had created, all screaming as if in complete unison “Crush, Kill, Destroy!” They all died under plasma bolts, las-fire, and the occasional bolt round from the officers among the loyalists. A few seconds later, when all of the enemy wounded had been dealt with and his own seen too, General Bolter took stock. No casualty’s, though we have two wounded. Pfc. Vaulted Ceiling only has a minor injury to his wing so he could help Tapioca back to the medical tents. She wouldn't make it on her own, not with a wound like that to her knee, and she won’t be of any use here. Besides they could carry my message back to Central Command and General Gates. General Bolter barked out the orders, and soon after the two injured, wounds bandaged as best as first aid would allow, started hoofing it back towards central command. “Lt. Rolling Stone, Golden Heart, take point please. We have a ways to go yet before we reach where we need to be.” General Bolter said as he moved to the center of the formation of guard-pony’s moving north east along the trench. Ahead General Bolter could see another of the small dugouts designed to act as heavy bolter nests, he motioned for the group to stop, and walked up to his two body guards. “Dugout ahead. This one seems like some kind of platform. Have either of you two seen any movement?” General Bolter whispered. Rolling Stone and Golden Heart both shook their heads. General Bolter trusted them, if there was something to see they would have seen it. “Alright then, let’s move forward. If we can take this dugout we should be able to set up a good firing position to create a crossfire between us and General Valleys forces, over whoever is assaulting them.” The two nodded in agreement. “Let’s get moving.” The General said as he started down the pathway flanked by the two large Stallions. Putting his back to the mud wall to the side of the small set of stares that led up into the dugout, General Bolter motioned for his two body guards to enter. The two stormed up the steps followed by a steady stream of guard-ponies. General Bolter swiftly followed the last of them up the stairs, and found his soldiers holding defensive positions all around the dugout. Four ponies were trying to take down, and reset up a pair of heavy bolters that were originally facing north. The two pairs were setting them up to face east. General Bolter’s gaze moved outward and eastward. What he saw was horrifying. The sub-command center was under full scale assault, hundreds of earth pony cultists charged the front lines. Each one carried a nasty looking hand to hand weapon, spikes and blades rusted almost beyond recognition. Intermixed with the cultists were some who where tattooed in the same way as the leader of the previous group of cultists had been, tattoos flowing unnaturally forcing General Bolter to concentrate hard in order to view them clearly. “Alright every-pony let’s get those heavy bolters into position! The second they come on line we all open fire on their flanks, we need to give those boy’s some relief!” General Bolter said loud enough for the whole group of guard-ponies to hear. “Lt Golden Heart, Rolling Stone, choose two soldiers and watch those side trenches and our rear. I don’t want any more surprises. Understood?” The two stallions saluted and ran off to choose who they would take with them. General Bolter returned his attention to the fighting. The defenders were holding, but just barely. A trench that wound its way around the small hill that the sub-command center was built on acted as their front-line; supported by a small dugout a few feet behind it on a raise platform similar to the one the General now stood on, that housed two heavy bolters, spitting death into the melee below. If they don’t receive some kind of relief soon those boys will break, and the whole thing will turn into a rout. Those heavy bolters in the dugout above them look like they have seen better days. It won’t be long before those barrols melt and will have to be changed, if that happens while this assault is still going on they'll all die. General Bolter looked to his left, the first pair of guard-poneys a stallion and mare, had finished setting up their heavy bolter and were stringing the ammo through the belt loop. “Don’t open fire until we're all in position” The General ordered the two who nodded their understanding, the gunner taking her position and the spotter getting ready with a fresh chain of ammo. General bolter looked to his right and saw that the other pair had just finished dragging the heavy weapon into position and were now putting it together. “Faster guard-pony’s, our brothers need our help.” He said, voice stoic as steel, though not unkindly. The pair worked furiously putting the weapon together, and it didn't take them long to finish the feat. “Guard-Pony’s, take up firing positions to support the heavy bolters! Hear… and Hear!” The general pointed with a hoof to the left and right of the powerful weapons. The handful of soldiers who had taken up defensive positions around the dugout joined their counterparts who had already taken up firing positions along the side that faced the assault. “Ready! Loose Hell!” the two gunners squeezed the triggers almost simultaneously, and shell after shell of the .75 caliber, self-propelled, mass and magic reactive rounds, each painted with runes of warding against dark magic, bit into the enemy. Dozens of cultists exploded into mist before the powerful weapons, but the fanatical followers of the chaos lords continued on as if ignoring their imminent death. Soon after the thud of bolt rounds, was joined by the snap and hiss of las-guns, and the powerfully devastating staccato of the Generals Plasma Gun. The added effect of the infantry’s fire power finally broke the fanatical charge, which disintegrated as some cultist’s resolve broke retreating, while others in their fanatical frenzy threw themselves uselessly at the wall of death that the command centers defenders threw up in front of them. What had once been a steady stream of crazed cultists bent on gleeful murder now turned quickly into full retreat, as the survivors of the assault rushed back to what had once been the loyalist’s primary defensive line, now held by the traitors. General Bolter could hear cheering and stomping hooves coming from the command center, as its beleaguered defenders celebrated their salvation from imminent destruction. “Good job soldiers! Now, keep your wits about you, no celebrating yet. The enemy has been humbled but never underestimate their resolve, or their fear of their masters.” General Bolter said, not quite yelling. The Generals gaze washed over his soldiers, ensuring their calm, and discipline despite their victory. He could see smiles, and clasped hoofs, but nothing overly distracting, nothing that would endanger them all by allowing some pony to miss a crucial piece information on the battle field. Nodding in satisfaction he returned to watching the enemy lines. The rain was still coming down hard, and to General Bolter’s unease, creating even muddier conditions. More mud, is that even possible? He thought to himself as he watched the enemy bring in reinforcements, presumably preparing for another assault. This doesn't make any sense. If this storm is being caused by the Betrayer to help her ground forces by neutralizing our communications and air superiority, why would she create muddy conditions that would only make it more difficult for them? The thought bothered General Bolter immensely, but unable to come to some conclusion he forced himself to put it out of his mind and focus on the issues at hand. The rain was coming down harder now, harder than it had any time before. General Bolter couldn't see the purple lights in the sky that mixed with the clouds except when flashes of purple and blue lightning crashed into the ground and light up the whole battlefield. That was also the only time he could now see the enemy lines, for those brief moments when lighting lit the sky. The enemy’s numbers had nearly doubled in the short time it had taken for the storm to intensify. What is going on? They have more than enough numbers by now to attempt another attack. They would be able to do it even easier if they simply followed the trenches to us and took our position out first. I don’t know what they are doing, but by Celestia’s Light I am not going to wait around to find out. “Lt. Rolling Stone!” The great stallion appeared next to the General it seemed almost out of thin air. “Oh. There you are. Take half of the guard-ponies down the eastern trench that leads off here” he said pointing to the small offshoot trench that was only half constructed that the enemy had had to cross over in order to attack the defenders front line. “Fortify that line. Take one of the heavy bolters with you as well, I want to make sure you don’t have to engage in hand to hand combat unless absolutely necessary. Put your soldiers in optimum firing positions” he took out the small laminated map and pointed out a few possibility's. “Here, here… and here. Do it as quickly as you can.” The General pointed toward a small crate off to his left side. “Also, take those mines and put them out in front of you to provide you with extra protection just in case. Lay them as far out as you can without endangering your soldiers needlessly.” Rolling Stone saluted crisply “yes sir. Do you wish to make assignments, or should I pick the stallions to go sir?” The General pointed at him with one hoof and started folding the small laminated map, stuffing it back into the small saddle bag behind his shoulder. Lt. Rolling Stone saluted again and ran off, calling out the names of some of the best hand to hand fighters and demolition experts he knew in the group, before speaking to the heavy weapons crew to the Generals right and requisitioning them for the assignment. As Rolling Stone and nearly half of the guard-ponies started to head out, the General picked up a slight sound on the wind. “Sir…” said Golden Heart who had snuck up behind him without the Generals Notice. “Can you hear that? They are…I can’t make out what they’re saying sir.” General Bolter swore, as a thick cloud of darkness swiftly covered the enemy lines, obscuring them more completely then even the most intense storm could. He couldn't see them, but he knew. He couldn't hear what they were chanting, but he knew deep down, what was coming. The chanting was rhythmic, pulse pounding, and punctuated by the screams of cultists as they mutilated their own flesh in honor of their hedonistic lord. He knew, because he had seen it before, had heard this before, had seen its aftermath. “Brace for impact!” he screamed over the roar of thunder, crack of lighting, and the chanting, the horrible chanting. Officers down the line mirrored his orders to their soldiers, who all ducked, pressing themselves hard against the mud caked trench which was slowly turning into a stream as rain washed down from the hill the command center was perched on. The chanting grew in intensity, reaching a fever pitch that chilled the Generals blood. The rhythmic chanting and pounding of drums that the General knew were made from the skinned hides of dead ponies ceased sharply, leaving the battlefield feeling empty. “DOWN!” General Bolter yelled again, as some of the soldiers who had stayed with him were poking their heads up above the dugout trying to see what was happening. Before they could react to his orders their heads were gone, replaced by thick red mists that fell to the bottom of the trench mixing with the mud and dirty water; their bodies fell soundlessly and were quickly washed over by the running water, mud accumulated, and quickly swallowed the fallen corpses. “NO! Dam you!” General Bolter screamed in defiance. “You heretics will pay for this!” his voice carried over the battlefield unopposed. “You will feel Celestia’s burning light before this is over, I swear it!” he screamed at the unseen enemy, safety hidden from their soundless, and dangerous weapon. A few seconds later the General heard the chanting, crack of lighting, and rumble of the unnatural thunder overhead again. Standing quickly he aimed his plasma gun in the direction of the enemy line, and unleashed bolt after bolt of angry blue energy which disappeared into the unnatural darkness that surrounded them. Soon after he was joined by las-fire and bolt rounds from the guard-ponies around him. A few seconds later, he could see flashes of light, and mussel fire from the second heavy bolter as Lt. Rolling Stone and his ponies took their positions further down trench. “Feel the wrath of the righteous you cultist bastards!” General Bolter screamed, as the stallions and mares around him joined in. Battle cries of “die heretic die!” and “For Winie-pego!”, “For the fallen!” and “May the nobles have mercy on you! For we will not!” which was yelled in unison by one particularly rough looking group of four stallions and mare. General Bolter remembered rescuing the group of five from cultists who had knocked them out and were about to sacrifice them on a make shift alter of their fellow ponies. They are determined to redeem themselves of their loss I see, they have more honor then some officers I know. He thought to himself bitterly, before shaking his head to clear it, and returning to the work at hand. The renewed chanting wavered several times, but slowly it began to increase in its intensity, and General Bolter did his best to direct the fire from his troops to places in the darkness he thought he remembered, where the cultists had massed. General Bolter felt a hoof on his flank and spun, trigger-bit half pressed and ready to fire. In front of him stood four figures, three of whom wore white robes with golden fringes, the last a black with purple coated fringe. The three with white robe’s had their hoods drawn, but the black robed pony pulled back its hood to reveal an elderly looking mare with a long horn, glowing with dark pink magic. “Calm yourself General Bolter, we are here to assist you.” She said, voice sing song and tinged with magic that sent shivers down General Bolter’s spine. Additional guard-pony's poured in from behind them, nearly tripping the size of his force. “Aspin!” General Bolter yelled joyfully, as he swooped the regal looking Unicorn up in a tight embrace. His joints ached in defiance, but his heart ignored them. “Oh sister you don’t know how good it is to see you!” he said releasing her as she chuckled softly. Her voice carried clearly through the cacophony of battle as she said “It is good to see you too little brother. Mother would be proud to see you here, though I must say it wouldn't surprise her in the least!” chuckling softly again. He nodded as they both smiled despite their surroundings. “If you two are done with your family reunion, we could use a little help sir!” Golden Heart said while firing into the blackness that cover the enemy lines. “Getting rid of this… this… blackness stuff would be first on my list if I were you!” he yelled as he stopped to release the steam out of his plasma guns pack. Frowning at his subordinate General Bolter said “He’s right, the extra guard-ponies will be helpful, but can you do anything about that wall of shadow out there?” he asked Aspin, as she rubbed her chin. “I have been observing the weave of the spell that She is using to maintain the darkness. It is powerful but rather simple. With the help of the other mages we should be able to sever her tie to the spell and then un-weave it rather quickly. However…” she hesitated looking at General Bolter uneasily. “The second you break that spell, whatever’s on the other side of it will come right at us. You’re afraid we might not be able to handle it right? Well, whatever they have we can…” “No brother, not they.” Aspin interrupted “She. It’s the sound-witch herself that leads these forces. She is the only one capable of using that darkness spell so powerfully, while still weaving the other.” General Bolter shook his head. “Celestia’s intelligence officers said that she might have taught it to others. That’s why they didn't find her corpse at the victory at Cloudsdale. It could be another unicorn she has taught that trick to, or perhaps a group of them.” He said, briefly putting a hoof up to stop the conversation, while he listened to the progress of the chanting. It hadn't built in strength to where a unicorn could use it to power the spell from earlier, at least not yet. “Mere conjecture” said one of the white robed mages, as he pulled down his hood revealing a horn wrapped in silvery magic. “She, like all followers of the Chaos Lords is paranoid. She trusts no one, not even her supposed Queen, and would not give up the secret to her magic for any reason. Probably not even if ordered to by Chrysalis herself! Or at least, not all of it.” He said putting his hoof back on the ground. “What Silver Aura said is correct brother. Who knows maybe she taught some of her tricks to other unicorns, but she would not teach everything she knew no matter what. Also, I have been observing the weaves of the spells and they all have a certain feel to them. Like how paintings that were painted by the same artist do.” “That is why we have all come.” Interrupted Silver Aura “We knew from the accounts of the strength and variety of the spell effects, along with the direct intervention of the Betrayer herself, that it must be the sound witch.” Silver Aura moved back in line with the other two robed unicorns giving General Bolter a bit more room. “Huh… Alright, well no time like the present. Take down that spell Aspin and we will deal with whatever is on the other side.” General Bolter said. He turned to face the blackness covering the enemy lines, and out of the corner of his eye saw Aspin, Silver Aura and the other two unicorns touch horns, uniting their magic’s. General Bolter Looked at Lt. Golden Heart and said “Send a messenger around, tell everypony to cease fire until my command.” Lt. Golden Heart stood, saluted briefly before leaving to find a messenger. A few minutes later the fire from his section of the field ceased, a few seconds after that so did the fire from Lt. Rolling Stone’s soldiers, strung along the half built trench between the enemy and the sub-command center. “We are ready brother” Aspin said, voice straining as she struggled to wield the combined magic of all four powerful unicorns. “Let me know when, and I will bring down the wall of shadow.” “Alright Guard-pony’s!” General Bolter yelled over the battlefield. “For Celestia! For Luna! For home! This is why we fight! It is why we can endure all evil and come off conquerors of all evil! Let not your hearts be troubled by the horrors we shall see today! Let that revulsion compel you onward to fight harder against the enemy! Remember, Disgust is our shield!” he turned and looked at the four unicorns and nodded, then turned again toward the wall of shadow and watched it dissipate. The storm was still in full swing, and the natural darkness it produced still overshadowed them all, but if he strained hard, he could make out the enemy lines. What he saw as the shadow withered like a grab on the vine ,caused him to groan. Thousands of enemy cultists arrayed before them. Thankfully they were still unorganized; though that is what he had known would be there. What shocked the veteran General to his core, was a large chariot that he caught glimpses of as purple lighting from the storm, lit the sky and the ground below. To every Celestia fearing pony there, it seemed a brutal, barbed creation that only the most wicked of minds could have created. General Bolter saw a mixture of eye-wateringly sickening spokes and iron claws. On the lower parts of the horror incarnate were thrashing slaves enduring unrelenting torment whose dark masters used hooked whips to tare away precious flesh. Unbeknownst to the General, their final screams as their souls left their lifeless bodies acted the catalyst for the horrible spell that the guard-ponies had endured. Atop the chariot was a massive thrown made from the bodies of living pony’s writhing in agony, and crucified corpses, pinned together with iron spikes; a turntable laid out before it that a dark and hooded figure stood behind. The turntable rested upon four gigantic, spike and rune adorned speakers. The chariot was decorated with grotesque symbols that made General Bolters stomach want to turn over, and he heard more than a few of his soldiers lose the contents of their stomachs. The edifice to the cultist’s dark lords was pulled by eight, two legged beasts, whose bodies were lithe and slick, otherworldly and alien in every way. “Unleash Hell!” General Bolter screamed, his disgust and anger infusing his words. Heavy bolter rounds ripped into the enemy ranks, as las-fire and plasma bolts soon followed suit. Dozens of cultists died without cover or protection upon the open mud fields behind and in front of their trench. Realizing their exposure to the now expertly aimed weapons, the cultists fractured. Some running for the cover of the now overflowing trench, some charging blindly toward the loyalists lines, while still others tried to retreat form the battlefield all together, only to be met by death at the hands of their shaved and rune adorned leaders charged with maintaining discipline at any cost. Dozens upon dozens of enemy cultists died at the hands of the loyalists before order was restored in the enemy ranks. Their brutal leaders maintaining discipline at the end of a barrel, whip, or other terrible instrument of pain and torment at their disposal. Flashes of bright light lit the fields, now covered in bodies, briefly. General Bolter turned his attention to the sub-command center where they had originated, and saw the siloets of ponies rearming what looked like mortars. Two tiny explosions lit up the sky just above the traitor’s trench. “Steal rain! That’s got to put a hamper on whatever they got goin right sir!?” asked Lt. Golden Heart enthusiastically. It was too dark to make out what was happening exactly, but General Bolter could imagine the devastation that the mortars had caused as the canister’s exploded, peppering the enemy with thousands of pieces of hot shrapnel. “Send a messenger! Tell General Valley, or whoever is in charge up there to stop using those mortars, all they’re doing is making themselves targets!” The General ordered, Lt. Golden Heart turned and repeated those same orders, almost verbatim, to one of his runners. General Bolter sighed as he watched hundreds of cultists charge out of the section of line that the canisters had hit and into the ready fire of his soldiers. What is General Valley thinking?! He thought to himself furiously. Why didn't he save those until they charged en mas when they would have been most effective?! Two more muzzle flashes came from the direction of the two stationary mortar platforms, followed a few seconds later by two more explosions directly above another section of the enemy trench line. The results were similar, hundreds of cultists charged out of the trench and were swiftly mowed down as they tried to traverse the long distance between their line and the loyalists. He probably thinks he is going to be able to flush them out one section at a time like that until they are all dead. General Bolter thought to himself bitterly. Doesn't that colt remember anything that I taught him!? General Bolter cringed in pain as a high pitched screeching smothered any other sound for miles. He looked up and saw a single, compressed beam of sound shoot from one of the chariots four speakers, and strike one of the mortar positions. Splinters and mud flew high into the air as the stations minor defensive earthworks were decimated immediately. General Bolter cursed as the mortar emplacement itself was ripped apart, and its ammo flung into the air. As the volatile mortar rounds landed, they detonated causing a storm of explosions peppering the sub command center. General Bolter pounded his fist into the mud wall in front of him in anger. A horrible cry rose from the assembled cultists along the enemy line, a few seconds later in unnatural unison they poured over the mud wall of the trench. Thousands running in a mad dash toward the loyalist lines screaming in a gleeful craze. Their leaders, shaved coats exposing runes cut into their skin by their own hooves, firing las-guns in an effort to suppress the loyalist’s fire. “That’s what they were waiting for” General Bolter said. “That.. That witch! She wanted General Valley to reveal the mortars location so she could destroy them! This whole thing was a ploy!” He said to no one in particular, angry at being manipulated. “FIRE AT WILL!” he yelled over the crazed screams and mad giggling of the cultists who were charging. “Come then, and reap Celestia’s wrath!”, biting down on the trigger bit one of the cultists leaders, shaved with mad runic tattoos cut into its flesh was swiftly turned to slag. The cultists ran south along the mud fields, enduring withering fire from the loyalist forces. Hundreds died, as thousands more swarmed over the dead corpses of their fallen comrades. They came in wave after wave, each getting farther then the last. Bodies littering the field, trampled under the hooves of their counterparts, the cultists had advanced nearly two thirds of the way to Lt. Rolling Stone’s extended front line. “Fix Bayonet’s! Prepare for close quarters fighting!” General Bolter yelled across the battlefield, his voice ringing clearly over the mud and blood soaked ground over the cacophony of war. Lt. Golden Heart pressed a small button on his helmet, and a tiny knife extended giving him the look of a unicorn whose horn had been replaced by cold steel. General Bolter refocused his attention on the enemy, picking off cultist after cultist, trying desperately to take down their numbers and hold back the tide of mutilated, chaotic ponies. General bolter saw that the same thing had been done by every pony who still had their helmets, presenting to the enemy a sharp line of cold steel they would have to throw themselves upon to break the loyalist’s lines. General Bolter looked down at his own hooves, and found that his hoof spikes and duel hoof blades were still attached to his front legs. Good, Lt. Winds Call would kill me if I had to requisition another set. “Aspin, you should head to the command center. No doubt General Valley will need your help should these bastards break through our lines.” General Bolter said as he looked back at his sister and her assembled Unicorn mages. “Don’t worry about us brother, we will be fine. Focus on your work.” Aspin said dismissively almost as if she didn’t know that they were about to be buried under a tidal wave of cultists. Shaking his head, he looked back toward the enemy assault, they were almost on them and their numbers were still extremely overwhelming despite their heavy losses. “HOLD THE LINE!” he ordered his soldiers, as he fired his Plasma gun nearly point blank into the face of another cultist. He could see the creatures jagged teeth, filed to sharp points, and he thought he could smell the rancid death that caked the dammed earth pony’s coat. A split second later, another cultist took its place. This time, when General bolter bit down on the trigger, the Plasma Gun vented. Heat pouring from his weapons vents, General Bolter blinked clearing his vision as the cultist leaped at him, screaming maniacally. General Bolter’s world went completely blurry and he struggled against the pony who’s snapping jaws reached for his neck. General Bolter lifted his front hooves and kicked up with all his strength, driving the spikes that were held there deep into the cultist’s chest. Blood flowed freely from the open wounds he had inflicted while holding the lunatic’s crazed snapping, jagged teeth at bay. A moment later a bright flash of light lit his vision and he felt the weight that had threatened to crush him, suddenly lifted. General Bolter rolled on to his feet, as he blinked furiously trying desperately to clear his vision. Another flash of light, followed briefly by a squeal of pain and the smell of seared flesh engulfed his senses. Slowly his vision returned, but the flashes continued almost as if they came from the barrel of a gun. Finally able to see clearly, General Bolter glanced back and saw his sister and her companions furiously casting spell after spell. Heat bolts, then ice crystals, followed by rocks and mud flung at deadly speeds with levitation spells peppered the enemy almost as effectively as heavy bolters, chewing into the mass of cultists. “Fear not brother!” Aspin yelled as she stood near him felling three cultists at once as they were engulfed in one of her heat spells. “Guard-ponys are not the only ones who can hold the line!” she said just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of close quarters battle. General Bolter grinned, and bit down his trigger, turning the cultist he aimed at and the two behind him, into molten slag.