Pt 2
Red-Coat Skull-Crusher, leader of the bulk of the cultist forces, and loyal follower of Lord Tyric, watched as wave after wave of chaff threw themselves upon the enemy. Their blood mixing with the so called ‘loyalists’. The Great Lord would be truly happy with the scene before him, The Great Lord didn't care whose blood it was, as long as the blood flowed.
“Your cultists are failing Red.” The voice sounded part mechanical, magically enhanced, and completely unnatural. The magic infused words sent shivers down Red-Coat’s spine. How he hated working with the other factions. Magic was meant for the Great Lord, not for lesser beings. The creature that sat atop the throne-chariot beside him would under any other circumstances, be his arch enemy. How he had dreamed of bathing in her blood, and reveling in the praise of the Great Lord as he sucked the magic from the creature, as she died. It was only the Great Uniter, the Master of all Chaos Lords, and the Avatar of Chaos Incarnate that could ever hope to bring such different forces together.
Red-Coat had been extremely upset that he and his forces had been sent as the Tithe that the Great Lord had had to pay to the Uniter. It was something every Chaos Lord had to do, pay a percentage of their forces to Her, and he had been Lord Tyric’s. After a while though he had grown to see how She was very much like his beloved Lord Tyric, every bit as blood thirsty and destructive, just more… eloquent about it.
“They have no hope of victory, not against these odds. Besides, as the blood flows, my cultists grow stronger thanks to the gifts of the Great Lord Tyric.” Red-Coat said confidently in a thick rusckin accent, a smirk appearing on his face, revealing jagged blood stained teeth.
The hooded figure atop the chariot chuckled softly to herself. “What's so amusing base one? Why do you laugh when victory is at hand?” Red-Coat angrily asked.
“You. You are so very, very amusing. For all of the blood, and bodies that you have spent on this field not one ounce of power, magic or glory has gone to your precious Great Lord.” He stared at her, shock evident on his face. “Then again, none of the magic has gone to my queen either. Its all gone to the Great Uniter” the figure sneared the name in disdain. “Or, to power my spells.” Her voice had turned almost gleeful, reveling in the power that seemed to shine around her. “So, long story short Red, your precious cultists haven't enjoyed the protection of your Lord, other than what they had going in. My Queen knew this, and gifted the cultists she sent me with with a full array of protections, did your Great Lord?”
Red-Coat started to growl in frustration, when the hooded figure started to click her tongue. “no need to be so upset Red, just showing you, though your Lord is great and all, how much better my Queen is” the hooded figure chuckled as she saw Red-Coat stomp away, joining a group of large, heavily armed and armored cultists that made up his personal retinue.
“Get the mounts, we’re going with the next wave” Red-Coat watched as smiles swept over the group. His stallions were nearly gleeful to begin the slaughter in the name of the Great Lord. A smile that revealed sharpened teeth, capped with polished brass creeped onto his face as the others turned to obey his orders. The hooded figure behind him would soon realize that the gifts of the Great Lord, even without the added strength that the flowing blood could provide, were more than formidable.
---
The loyalist lines nearly broke several times, bulging and bending, weakening and stretching against the seemingly endless tide of cultists and their self-mutilated and sadistic leaders. It was only through grit, determination, skill, and at times sheer dumb luck that they were able to continue the fight.
Many guard-ponies distinguished themselves with honor and gallantry above and beyond any call of duty, facing not only death, but madness incarnate matching it pound for pound with honor and loyalty. There were times when some of these brave defenders would have broken if not for the spitting fire from the Heavy Bolter under the command of Lt. Rolling Stone.
Quilted Loyalty, and Patched Courage, the operators of the heavy weapon fought on despite Quilted Loyalty’s front foreleg being blown off by a grenade, or Patched Courage being blinded by acid that was thrown in her face by a crazed cultist. The two refused to be brought low and switched positions. Patched Courage taking over as the loader, feeding the ammo by touch alone, while Quilted Loyalty leaned on the Heavy Bolter for balance, while biting down the trigger; a tourniquet syncing off the blood flow to what remained of his leg.
When a breach occurred in the over extended, thinning line of guard-pony’s strung across the battlefield, Lt. Rolling Stone charged the section alone. For five minutes, he held off what was estimated by war scholars and historians years later, as nearly a hundred cultists, killing what is believed to be dozens, with nothing more than his bayonet, borne and bravery. When finally relief came in the form of Lt. Golden Heart, a group of close combat experts, and one of the white and gold robed unicorns, they found Rolling Stone standing among the dead, swaying, covered from head to toe in blood. It is believed that most was his own, pouring from the thousands of tiny scrapes and cuts he sustained in the fighting. It was shortly thereafter that he died from blood loss, while trying to fight his would be healers, too delirious from his wounds and exhaustion to comprehend what was happening.
Pfc. Yellow Streak, by sheer cosmic coincidence assisted in killing the diabolical cultist leader Red-Coat Skull-Crusher. As the young Pfc. ran passed Lt. Golden Heart and the cult leader as they were grappling, a grenade fell to the ground from Yellow Streak’s saddle bag. Its pin having been pulled as it snagged on Red-Coats armor spikes, the Grenade fell to the ground beside the the two struggling poneys, granting Golden Heart the opportunity he needed.
Golden Heart pushed Red-Coat down to the ground on top of the grenade as it went off, allowing one of the cult leaders armor spikes to pierce his shoulder in the process.
Red-Coat had ridden into the battle upon a great armored and heavily augmented bison. It was him and his retinue of ten other cultists atop the colloquially named juggernauts, that had created the original breach in the guard line. They had charged up the hill toward the command center, commencing a great slaughter of what remained of the few guard-poneys there, while a mass of cultists charged through the breach.
It was only when a contingent of flamethrower wielding poneys lead by the powerful unicorn arch-mage Aspen Grove arrived at the center, that the cultist leaders unchecked murder was rebuffed. Had he been able to continue his murderous charges, breaking the loyalists lines, and not been stopped by Golden Heart who had pulled the great stallion from off the mutated and mutilated bison, there is no telling what damage the cultist leader would have caused. Thanks to both luck and Golden Hearts quick thinking and bravery one of Equestria’s greatest foes was defeated, and the soldiers under his command were saved in the process.
---
The hooded unicorn figure atop the chariot, sitting on her throne of still writhing poney bodies, chuckled softly to herself. Just as the Queen said, she thought as she watched the brute-ish Red-Coat get pulled from his juggernauts saddle and forced to the ground by the Golden coated, purple mained stallion; whose soul shone brighter and more pure than most in her sight. All the more precious when his soul is mine, she thought with delight. Her magic allowed her sight to penetrate the darkness produced by the unnatural storm above.
The hooded figure saw the grenade fall to the ground. How fortuitous, even the fates conspire against you Red. When the sound of the grenades explosion reached her ears she suppressed the desire to giggle. Smiling she pulled on the magical strings that connected the cultists leaders soul to his Chaos Lord with all her strength. It was not enough to shatter the connection, eventually Reds soul would go to Tyric, but for today he would be hers. I know just what to do with him, she thought unable to stop the mad giggling that rose from her.
Once she safely had him, she turned her attention to the slowly dying hero. His soul’s golden thread was linked to the Matriarch, the real Betrayar, the walking corpse that was once Celestia God of the Sun. Sneering she pulled on that thread, only to find anothers magic already touching it. She pulled again, this time weary, and was burned for her trouble. The hooded figure recoiled as fast as she could from the threatening magic, as she watched the golden thread disappear, rushing fast away south. What? she thought, curious. I didn't think they had anyone with any real talent left. Today has proven much more interesting than I thought.
The call of full retreat started from the cultists around the hooded figure, when they heard her start to laugh in earnest. Knowing what that meant, they ran in abject panic.
---
“General Bolter, Where is the General?” General Bolter’s ears perked up as he heard a some what familiar voice.
“Here, i am here.” he said as Second Lt. Dawn’s-gust stepped out of the mass of busy guard-ponies who were frantically rearming, tending to the wounded, and hurriedly going about other mundane yet time sensitive duties.
“General Bolter! There you are” said Winds-gust as she pushed through the crowd toward him waving a hoof in the air. The storm flattened her feathers, and in every way the pony looked like a miserable bird caught out in the rain. “I've a message from General Valley sir!”
General Bolter waited patiently as the pegasus pushed through into the small open space around him and Aspin. “What is it Lieutenant?” he asked curtly, eager to be back to planning the loyalists defense against the next inevitable attack.
“Sir General Valley sends his regards.” second Lt. Dawns-gust said as she held out a rolled up scroll, with General Valleys personal sigil impressed into the wax seal. “He said i should take it to you immediately sir.” Lt. Dawns-gust said as she struggled to catch her breath in the freezing rain, dark clouds overhead cracked with purple, pink and blue lightning.
General Bolter broke the seal, huddling over the letter as best he could to keep it dry. A light pink aura appeared surrounding the letter, protecting it from the rain.”Thanks Aspin.” General Bolter said as he began reading. “The fool. He probably spent more time writing this letter then thinking about the strategy he used. He says that the loss of that mortor position was an ‘unexpected development’! Ha! My first year students would have been able to tell him that.” He finished reading the letter as Aspin, and the messenger silently watched.
“The… the unmitigated gall!” General Bolter slammed his hoof, and the letter, into the mud splashing dirty water up onto his cloak, already caked in mud and soaked with rain. “The coward said he left a rear guard, and retreated!”
“Yes sir” said Dawns-gust. “The lieutenant he left in command was completely overwhelmed, sir. I saw him nearly break down in tears when I told him you were here with reinforcements. He told me that General Valley left for the reserve camps after he dispatched a messenger requesting reinforcements from you.” Dawns-gust bit of the last word, as if tasting something foul. “Coward.”
General Bolter growled in frustration “Don't disparage a senior officer lieutenant” he said, halfheartedly scolding the younger pegasus. Dawns-gust ruffled her feathers slightly in annoyance, but nodded. “But I think you're right. Damn coward.” General bolter shook his head. “No. His failures are mine, he was my student and my subordinate. I should never have put him in command, i knew he wasn't brave enough, but i thought he might be smart enough to do the job.”
Aspin put her hoof on General Bolters shoulder, “Brother, there will be time to mourn loss of honor another time. Today we must focus on the work at hand.” Her tone was slightly scolding but not unkind. “I will go meet Silver Aura along the extended trench to provide assistance.” General Bolter nodded, he had been about to ask her to do just that. With the loss of both Rolling Stone and Golden Heart, if the cultists decided to charge again the beligered and much weaker line would be leaderless, and swiftly overrun.
“Thank you Aspin that’s where we need you right now.” General Bolter said as he shook his head slightly, still unable to fully accept that one of his greatest students was that big of a coward.
Pulling the map out of his saddle bag, and putting the now muddy and soaked letter in, he laid the map out on the ground. “General Gates is holding the west, and we have stabilized the line here in the east.” he said as he pointed out the eastern command center. “but there could have easily been a sizable force that moved around the trenches here” he pointed toward the far eastern flank of the sub-command center. “We haven’t had word from any of the elements that were stationed there. I have to assume that they are dead like the rest of the central line guard-poneys we passed on our way here.”
The General looked around at the gathered poneys. Winds-gust, Aspin, Royal, and Curas. With the exception of Aspin, they're all lower ranked officers with little to no experience in the field General Bolter thought to himself. “Curas” he said as the heavily muscled and short stallion saluted crisply. “I’m going to have you take Aspin’s flamethrower specialists, and a handful of other poneys here…:” he pointed at a location just east of the eastern sub-command. “ I need you to tell me what happened to the guards posted there, and if you see any signs of large movements of troops going by. We don't want Anthima City, and Fort Omega to be caught unaware if the enemy slipped passed us. If you do find anything, send a runner first to Omega, then to me understood?” Curas again soluted.
Nodding general bolter pointed back at the elongated line “Aspin, take the two other mages that you have with you to the line. Help them hold until I can send reinforcements.” General Bolter pointed toward Winds-gust. “I need you to go to the sub-command and send that Lieutenant to me so I can speak with him. Assume command from him until i send him back” General bolter thought about it and said “If. If i send him back, i’ll give him written orders with my signature. Otherwise if he returns he is your subordinate until the end of this conflict.”
Winds-gust saluted, unease evident in her expression.
“Uh.. Yes sir, but sir how can i have a subordinate of a higher rank?”
General Bolter pulled out a piece of blank parchment and started scribbling as Aspin again provided protection from the rain. “Thought of that. You are now hereby issued a field promotion. Understood First Lt. Winds-gust?” He asked as he held the now finished orders out for her to take.
Her shock quickly turned to excitement. “Yes sir!” she said enthusiastically as she grabbed the orders and stuffed it into her saddle bag.
“Lieutenant I need the second mortar position repaired and ready to fire the second I give the order. Can you pull that off?” The newly minted Lt. Winds-call nodded. “Good. Because you'll be our ace in the whole. Once its operational don't fire until you see a white signal flair.” Again the beaming pegasus nodded her assent.
General Bolter pointed a hoof at the tall pony Royal, who would look as regal as his name suggested if it wasnt for the copious amounts of mud, and thick heavy cavalier armor he wore. “Sergeant Royal, I need you to stay here. Hold this ground at all costs, keep up the crossfire with Aspin’s forces.” Royal saluted. “Good stallion, now if i were you i would fill the trench leading north with as much explosives as you can scrounge up, and collapse it. It might also make a nice trap, but thats up to you. Either way, these cultists are going to smarten up eventually and just walk down that trench to stop the crossfire.”
“Yes sir General Bolter.” Royal said as he finished his salute. The tall stallions cutie mark, two swords crossing over a spear laid atop a shield, shone true through the mud and grime that coated the rest of the Stallions bodie. “Trap it is. Might as well take as many of the bastards with us as we can.” he said as a grin crossed his face.
“This is not a suicide mission ladies and gentlemen” General Bolter said sternly, looking from Royal and across the rest. “I think we've already proven that. We only have to survive until more reinforcements get here from Fort Omega, and we are relived. So, do your jobs, and we should all get out of here alive. Understood?” General Bolter looked each of the members in the small circle in the face, as they each nodded their accent. “Good. Dismissed.”
As the band of leaders turned to leave to their respective tasks, the ground started to rumble slightly. General Bolter looked down at his feet, the water was rippling, as if someone had dropped a large boulder in a pond. “What is that horrible sound?” shouted Aspin in his ear. Before General Bolter could respond however, two large metal vehicles, larger then any that General Bolter had seen before, peaked over the western ramparts, cannon barrels aimed at the enemy lines. A heavy bolter peaked out the front armored plate swiveling menacingly over the hundreds of dead bodies on the field before them.
A soot coated black and white spotted pony appeared out of the top hatch of the forward tank a split second later, smoke followed soon after. “What the hell is that? another electrical fire?! Get it under control private before we all die from the fumes!” a weak affirmative was drowned out by the crack of lightning and thunder overhead.
“Report soldier!” General Bolter yelled as he motioned for the others to continue their work, and they quickly dispersed to their duties. “Where are you coming from?”
The soot covered earth poney stallion shook his head, shocked at being yelled at. Noticing General Bolter he quickly saluted. “Iron Sights at your service sir! This hear is my tank Celestia’s Grace, and her crew from the first armored division. Were here to deliver these fifteen tone, one hundred and twenty millimeter smooth bore cannon to General Bolter, complements of General Gates sir!” The tank commander said as he finished his salute. “Where can I find him?”
“Well you wont have to look far, consider me found. I didn't think your tanks would be ready for another week. What happened?”
“Sir! Look!” shouted one of the guard-poneys who General Bolter had set to watch the enemy lines. General bolter turned around as he heard screaming and crying coming from the direction of the enemy trenches. General Bolter trotted to the edge of the trench to get a better look. “Sweet celestia…” whispered the same guard-poney.
“Celestia’s not here soldier, now buck up and get ready to counter another assault!” he yelled loud enough so all of the guard’s near him could hear. With that the watch poney ran over to a stack of ammo crates and started fishing for a new power pack for his head mounted las-gun. General Bolter looked back at the enemy lines, the cultists fled in fear, or at least tried to, as a spell slowly grew to engulf them.
As the spell, a small bubble of dark transparent blue, caught them their hides sloughed off, muscle's fell apart, intestines and bones fell in heaps under the now deconstructed frames, and still the cultists screamed. Evidently the spell doesn't kill outright, thought General Bolter as he witnessed the horror unfold, It takes a minute for them to die.
“WITNESS THE PRICE OF FAILURE” Came a voice from the epicenter of the massacre, the ungodly chariot. “WITNESS THE POWER OF MY QUEEN!” the spell expanded even further, reaching behind the enemy lines and catching, at least as far as General Bolter could tell, every cultist that had fled. “THEIR FAILURE WILL FEED THE CHAOS I SUMMON!”
A rift in reality, thats all that Gelera Bolter could think of to describe the blue and black distortions in space time, that brought forth lithe, bipedal and quadrupedal creatures. Crab Claws and spikes framed the demons perfectly beautiful and enticing frames.
“Demons” General Bolter said under his breath, before running back to the heavily armored tanks. “What’s your armament look like!” He yelled at the tank commander who was busy attaching a heavy stubber, the smaller variant of the Heavy Bolter that shot smaller caliber chamber fired rounds.
“20 rounds of High Ex, 5 standard rounds, and 2 anti infantry canisters sir.” the tank commander said as he slid a pin through two holes in the bottom of the Heavy Stubber connecting it to the manual swivel on the turret.
“How reliable is that damn thing?!” General Bolter yelled his question.
“Would you like me to give you a blow by blow of the specs on this thing sir?! or would you rather I open fire?!” The tank commander pointed toward the oncoming wave of nearly fifteen of the creatures. Small numbers, but they seemed to shift in reality, and it was hard for General Bolter to keep track of them. They ran swiftly, and were nearly halfway to the loyalists lines, even as dozens more poured out of the breach in reality and began forming around the chariot.
No one is shooting, why is no one shooting?! General Bolter thought angrily. “OPEN FIRE!” He screamed as loud as he could. A split second later it seemed as if the world erupted, as the tanks main cannon let loose its first standard round, followed swiftly by its three heavy bolters, and the tank commanders heavy stubber. A second or so later and the rest of the loyalists opened up, accompanied by the second tank’s main cannon and secondary armaments.
General Bolter watched as the tanks standard rounds exploded against the sustained spell bubble, now acting as a shield against the loyalists fire power. Two more salvos had little more impact causing ripples in the spell shield, to no effect.
“Focus on the demons!” General Bolter yelled at the Tank Commander who quickly turned around and yelled something unintelligible down to his crew. The main cannon on the large tank lowered a few degrees, and the next salvo ripped through the ranks of the now charging second wave of lithe demons, the first wave having been cut down by the combined firepower of the heavy bolters along the loyalists line.
To General Bolters surprise the second tank followed suit, their next high explosive round briefly lit a section of mud aflame, turning handfuls of demons into ash.
General Bolter ran to the front of the trench and joined his soldiers in taking down the highly seductive demons. She can't hold that spell forever, he thought, I just hope we have enough ammo to last that long.
The rains continued to fall,
pony's continued to die,
demons laughed,
and the moon suddenly appeared over head.