A Circle Has No End: Volume I

by Gladi Writes

Arc: Quietly Into the Night III

At 7PM in Canterlot, the guns fell silent. Mezza Luna's force had swept aside the loyalists with bloody effect, and concluded their campaign with an explosion that shook the city. The loyalists that survived were sealed in the mountain, and any that tried to escape through the old tunnels would be cut down by emplaced guns. The citizens of the city remained in the shelters, unaware of anything going on outside, still waiting for the all-clear. The only remaining free area of the city was a single block, near the fortifying wall: the Changeling Embassy.

There, under a green dome, the remaining fighters waited for either their salvation, or their end. Wildcard would sometimes stride through them, keeping their spirits high, while his wife attempted to hail the Magnificent from his office. Malgavian had long since disappeared into the evening, and as the clock tolled 7PM, hopes began to fade. Outside the dome the waiting lines of Night Guards grew by the minute.

In the sky, a rather ominous red moon hung over everything- a blood moon. Under its gaze the chilly September winds whistled through the empty Canterlot streets.

What if Luna was lying about the Magnificent, and she really was launching a coup?

Behind the lines, the leader of the only remaining fighters pondered that question. An hour ago the sun had fallen below the horizon, and now an ominous red moon hung over the world, as the biting cold of mid-September came from the north.

Wildcard sat on a crate, his horn glowing brightly, as he absent-mindedly loaded rounds into handguns. The conclusion to the question, if proven positive, was obvious. Princess Luna, now Queen Luna, had her forces within the city- the capital city. Anyone remaining loyal to Celestia was either trapped in the mountain, dead, or within the shield. Celestia herself was in the Crystal Empire. The conclusion was thus:

We're boned.

He watched one of the insurrectionist leaders walking before his troops on the far side of the shield, bellowing a speech to them.

"We'll give these shapeshifters no quarter! Equestria will be free of their filth, only from a secure homefront can we possibly win this war! Remember, they are not ponies, they are changelings. No mercy! Those that have chosen to cower down amongst them are no better!"

He listened to the leader continue on, as his words began to blur into a bloody fog of hate. As much as he tried not to be, to look at it all rationally, Wildcard felt a fiery hatred build up within. Those sort of words had a way of going unpredictable places.

"No mercy." He mumbled to himself, and hearing somebody coming down the street, turned to face the visitor.

Silver Shield, fresh from a quick patrol outside the shield, strode up to deliver his report with a sharp salute.

"They're tightening defences around the castle, and fortifying the outer city. They'll be coming down on us soon enough. I've heard rumours they have some firepower outside the city too, but nothing specific."

Wildcard looked at him, and put the gun he had been loading to the side.

"Silver, how do you feel about suicide missions?" Wildcard asked.

"I'll do as I'm ordered," Silver replied, in the trained tone of a changeling agent.

His eyes flickered with a blue light as the instincts kicked in, and he stood straight at attention.

"Good," Wildcard said, and slid off the crate, "but this one isn't for you."

"Sir?"

"You're too capable for me to throw away. I need you to bring me your three top shapeshifters," Wildcard said.

"That you can spare," he added.

"You better have a good reason," Silver Shield said, squinting his eyes at Wildcard.

"Survival, Silver. Just survival."

Wildcard looked back at the leader, across the other side of the shield, and for a second their eyes met. If looks could kill, they would both be dead.

_______________

The Magnificent, meanwhile, continued heading for Canterlot. Once over the next mountain it would be within visual distance of the city. Spitfire kept the lights off so she could attempt to sneak 500 meters of battle carrier as close as possible. Their plan hinged on shock tactics, and the first phase was already under way. High above, the Wide Flank was slowly making it's way towards the city, carrying a single heavily modified landing craft. They had simply bolted a propeller to the top, which would give it some extra glide time.

The pilot couldn't steer it much, but it was all they had at the moment. That craft would be dropped right onto the castle grounds, it's crew given one simple task- cut the head off the snake. Echo had been clever, as soon as Mezza Luna found them she had begun transmitting to the Magnfiicent, and they heard everything.

Spitfire took a deep breath, and pushed the button to restart the clock that had been silent for the last three weeks.

Operation Thousand Year Itch began.

"Spitfire!" Twilight shouted, having been trying to figure out why the radar was broken for the last hour.

Spitfire strode down towards her, limping on her forward right leg. "Is it fixed yet?"

Twilight shook her head, and tapped the display. "It's not broken, Spitfire, it's working."

"So why has it been beeping for the last hour, Dash took a look out there, there's nothing. Just a calm night over Ponyville." Spitfire said.

Twilight turned to her, and looked straight into eyes. "I took a quick look in the hanger earlier, and I noticed something..." she said, using her new height to stand over Spitfire.

"You only have nine of those stealth planes, but Celestia gave you ten..." She said, and glared down at the Air Martial.

The bridge crew took notice of this, and glanced from their stations at the pair.

"Where is number two Spitfire? What did you do with it?" Twilight demanded, her voice rising as she pressed Spitfire back.

Spitfire swallowed, and she began to defend herself.

"Mezza Luna demanded it- in return for our full missile complement. I had no idea what she wanted with it, I didn't care- we were on the same side!"

Twilight continued pushing. "You gave up critical hardware without informing any of us, how long ago did this happen, why didn't you say anything?"

"Months ago! Mezza Luna had Princess Luna's ear, there's nothing I could have done to stop her! Either I gave her the plane, or you would all be learning Griffonic right now!" Spitfire argued, and pushed back.

"You think it's easy, making these decisions? Do you not think I lay awake at night wondering if I could do better? This is leadership, Twilight. You make choices based on the information you have at the time. I did what I had to, and I regret nothing," She continued, opening her wings sub-conciously.

"What choices have you made, Princess? What gives you the right to judge me? Just because you can save Equestria doesn't mean you can lead it!"

Twilight herself pushed back, and the two came to a stand-still between the commanders seat and the radar seat.

"My crown gives me the right, Air Martial. I earned my place."

"So did I," Spitfire retorted. "I've run the Wonderbolts since I was fifteen, I saw us through Waylay, and I was there when the dragons came in '93. So tell me, Princess, what are you without your crown?"

Twilight glanced aside for a moment, and Spitfire took the initiative further.

"Tell me, Princess, how many have lost their lives by your command? How many, Princess? Every time I make a choice, I know that I won't be able to save them all, and that not every choice will be remembered as a good one. I make the calls anyway, to the best of my abilities, because I am a leader. You have no right to judge me."

She pressed Twilight back up against her radar.

"You do your duty, and leave me to mine." Spitfire said, and then turned in a flash to her crew.

"Dash wing out on CAP, launch three Phoenixes with missile loads," she ordered.

"Spitfire, how are we going to see the enemy in the dark?" Northstar asked, looking out the window at the dark twilight sky

"We don't need to see them, Twilight's radar can guide them towards the enemy, and then they can launch their missiles at the rogue Phoenix. Those things generate a hell of a lot of heat." Spitfire explained.

The room paused for a moment, as if expecting fireworks between Spitfire and Twilight again.

Spitfire put her hoof down on that. "Get to work!" she shouted.

Spitfire returned to her command seat, while they went to work. Twilight seemed to be considering her next move as she read the radar, glancing back ever so often.

Spitfire glanced away as she felt something in her eye, thinking on something she had said.

I couldn't save them all.

_______________

The elite of the First Airborne, Flash Sentry and the rest, talked amongst themselves inside the landing craft, which hung from the bottom of the Wide Flank. Other than themselves, and a few boxes of spare ammunition, they were alone. Seven ponies against the moons, the five elite along with a gunner, and a pilot- both of whom would stay with the landing craft.

Breach the castle. Determine who is behind the violence- be it Luna or her second. Kill them.

While they hammered on the top of the chain, the Magnificent would use the distraction in the line of command to drop the rest of the first all over the city. Two destroyers would breach the walls, and disgorge their troops. It wasn't a pretty plan, but it was all they had. They all had armour piercing rounds, and would could take on even the prototype armour the insurgents had stolen. Twilights intelligence had been invaluable, and probably saved them from having to raze Canterlot. Even so, there was still a long fight ahead.

Canterlot was going to need a new coat of paint tomorrow.

Flash looked to Mary Frosthorn, sitting at his side.

"You think Luna's behind this?"

"I sure hope not, Noponies ever won against an alicorn before," she replied.

Rona Excavo fidgeted in her seat. "Nopony has come prepared with a twelve-seven cannon toting stallion, and failing that a 500 meter long battleship."

"I thought it was thirty millimetre?" Mary asked, looking across at the huge gun on the floor.

That gun, which noisily jostled with ever movement of the craft, was keeping them calm more than anything. No amount of armour could possibly stop that. Even an alicorn would have to think twice before going against it.

Rona chuckled. "Really? I heard they mis-marked the first batch, but I didn't think it was true. Look at that, imagine it twice the size- it would be the size of..."

She paused, and sighed as she looked at the guns owner.

"Him."

Big Mac pretended not to notice, while Flash smiled bemusedly.

Brigadier Sunshine checked his watch, himself standing at the head of the unit, keeping himself steady with a rope hanging from the roof. He had been impatiently checking his watch for the last half hour, sparing a glance to the door now and then as well.

"Five minutes, check your weapons."

Big Mac prodded the cannon assembly on the floor beside him, and checked the ammunition box. A hundred rounds, armour piercing. They knew full well the insurgents had some advanced weapons, and they came prepared. That gun was the only thing he brought, and it was more than enough in itself. He slung the weapon on his back, and Rona levitated the ammunition box on with a smile.

Flash checked both his weapons, first that crossbow with it's glowing bolts- twenty of them. Secondly he had his rifle, the rounds of which were also tracers. At any time he could call on Mary to follow his shots with explosive effect. On his pack he had the standard signals radio kit, the second part of his role. In general, he was to keep close to the Brigadier and be their link to high command- Spitfire.

Mary had a standard rifle, and a pack full of medial supplies on her back. Her role wasn't combat, it was keeping them alive when they inevitably took fire. She also had a further twenty bolts for Flash, stuffed in the remaining space of her pack.

Rona Excavo was their engineer, having inherited her families ability to shift dirt on an industrial scale as if it was nothing. She carried a shotgun, designed for breaching doors or locked gates. On her back was a second radio pack, this one much smaller than Flash's. If Mary and Flash split from the group, they would be able to stay in contact.

Sunshine, their commander, had nothing more than a sidearm. He, however, also had a large backpack full of spare ammo and some explosives. Everyone carried their weight.

"Ready," Flash said, and was followed in turn by his compatriots.

The gunner, an anonymous private that Flash knew well enough not to get close to, stuck his head down from the turret.

"I'm all set up here, I'll give you cover fire from this bucket while you breach the castle," he said.

A second later, the warning lights inside the craft lit up, and the squad silenced. Flash grabbed his seat to steady himself for the fall- it was a long way down from here to Canterlot.

Of the two things he wished for in that moment, one was answered as he felt Mary's hoof on his own. He looked to her, and their eyes locked as the iron pod was released from it's carrier, plummeting in the abyss towards Canterlot. Her hair seemed to float off her head, and a great many things were said silently to each other.

The second thing he had wished for was a window, only their pilot had a view of what was actually going on as he guided the makeshift dropship towards the castle. It was armoured enough that it would burst through the wall wherever it landed, and that was exactly the plan. The propeller on top spun noisily, giving some semblance of control to their gliding voyage.

What the pilot saw was a city in flames, with the castle itself lit up by a few spotlights pointed up at it from the courtyard. Even from this distance the scars of battle were obvious. Plenty of windows were shattered and open to the night wind, while the grass around was burnt and dirtied. Oddly, there was none of the expected ground fire. The anti-air emplacements didn't even seem to be manned, the only light was within the city itself- coming from a few dozen fires.

Canterlot was not looking well, but the cure was on the way. The pilot decided to relieve some of his anxiety by shouting their altitude as they descended.

Three hundred meters!

Two hundred meters!

One hundred meters!

Finally, somebody on the ground spotted them and the sound of bullets impacting sounded like steel rain throughout. Flash gripped Mary a little tighter, and the gun opened on top opened up.

"Contact!" Their gunner shouted, loosing fire at a few barely-visible Night Guards, firing from positions behind hedges in the courtyard.

Positions that quickly became nothing more than flaming grass, sending the shooters fleeing.

The dropship soon made its mark, and slammed into the grassy clearing. It speed forward, full of velocity from the descent, crashing through a few stone statues, before it came to a halt.

"Hold on!" the pilot shouted, over the cacaphony of fire from above.

The makeshift engine whined, and the vehicle sped forward towards the nearest wall of the castle, behind which the grand ballroom laid. Quickly, with the cannon blazing in the night, the iron barge crashed through the wall, and squeezed to a halt halfway inside. The door slammed down on the ballroom floor, shattering the expensive tiles.

The squad flew out the door, with Sunshine barking his orders as they ran past him.

"Mac, doorway!" He shouted, and gestured across the room to the double doors at the end.

Curiously, Flash noted- as he took cover behind an overturned table- the room was covered with shell fragments, and the windows on the other side were broken. There were even a few blood stains, obviously they weren't the first force in here.

"What the hell happened in here?!" Mary wondered aloud, echoing his concerns.

"We'll find out later, we've got a job to do!" Sunshine shouted, and ran after Corporal Macintosh, who was signalling the hallway was clear after kicking down the door.

Flash left his position and followed them out, with Rona behind and Mary besides. As soon as they had formed up in the hallway, a fiery explosion took their landing vehicle, and threw them all against the floor. Flash went down hard, bruising his ribs painfully- but he was a professional, and quickly got back up with the rest.

"Rona in the back, Mac up front! Forward!" Sunshine ordered, barely audible past the ringing in everyponies ears.

They moved forward a ordered, Flash keeping his crossbow at hoof- better for closed in fighting. As the buzzing in his ears died away, it was replaced with the sounds of war from outside as the rest of the first made their landings, and soon enough the Magnificent would begin pounding any hardened targets. The sound of Wonderbolt guns blazing in the sky outside, occasionally visible by the brief flash out a window, was a relieving sight. Soon enough, the anti-air emplacements sent up their return.

As they went pushed onward, they found overturned tables and makeshift defenses, most of which were torn apart by bilateral fire. Paintings, ancient and priceless, hung marked with bullet holes on the walls, while the stain glass windows were more often than not shattered. The castle defenders seemed to have thought they had killed them when they destroyed the landing vehicle, and for a few minutes they made their way towards the throne room in a tense loneliness, checking every corner for the enemy.

Flash took a moment, and paused before one of the windows. It was relatively new, and commemorated the loss of Baltimare. Celestia had presented it at a somber press conference, to distract the public from the losses over the ocean. It hadn't been touched. Outside, a close run by a Wonderbolt wing lit it up. The old Baltimore skyline, painted in red. Above it, in the sky, hung an infinity symbol.

"Equestria Prevails"

Mary tapped him on the shoulder, and he followed her back down the hall. It was strange, Flash thought, that both sides in this firestorm fought because of that day.

"Anybody notice the moon's red?" Rona wondered, glancing out a broken window.

"It's a blood moon, Luna's sending a message- but to who?" Flash returned.

Carrying on checking corners, Flash darted around one corner, and spotted one of the insurgents, trotting down the hall. For a second, their gazes met eachother, and he looked on the slit eyes of the bat pony, as his enemy looked back. Before his mind had even realized it, he had pulled the trigger, and sent a glowing bolt whizzing down the hallway to come to a stop between those two eyes.

It's body dropped to the floor, clanking to it's final rest clad in ultimately useless armour.

"Nice shot," Mary said, tapping him on the shoulder.

The battle outside continued, and the Magnificent became visible on the horizon, lit by the spotlights on its deck. Flash could only imagine the sheer terror the enemy must have known, to see a 500 meter long battleship light up and start raining down death from above on them. With every salvo the castle shook once, and then much harder, as the shots were fired and impacted.

"I can't believe we're actually invading Canterlot. This never happened a year ago. Remember the running of the leaves? That was nice." Rona commented.

Sunshine motioned for them to halt, and picked the phone off of Flash's pack.

"Fleet, this is Sunburn, we're at the crossroads."

A moment later he had his response, and after a second of thought carried out his orders.

"Throne room is down the left corridor, I really doubt they're going to leave that undefended. Mary, blast it," he ordered.

Mary grinned and came up front, while Flash and Mac covered the rear.

She begun to charge her horn, and was just about to stick around the corner when a trio of soldiers crossed into Flash's view, a few dozen meters down.

"We've been made!" He shouted, and snapped off a shot that hit one in the chest.

Big Mac opened up, and sent them scurrying back into the hallway they came from, pulling their wounded comrade. Mary discharged her magic down at the throne room, and ducked back as a roaring inferno blew down the hallway back at her.

"Charge!" Sunshine commanded, and Flash turned and ran after them towards the throne room.

The ground was still painfully hot, but that didn't stop any of them. They sped past the shattered entrance, and two guards that had once stood watch, into the throne room itself. They quickly spread out, just as planned, and aimed their arsenal towards the two figured at the head of the room.

Queen Luna sat on her throne, covered in darkness. Beside her an anxious looking bat pony, clad in much thicker armour than her contemporaries, looked down on them.

Sunshine strode forward, aiming his sidearm at their Queen.

"You are under arrest, by order of Air Martial Spitfire on the behalf of Princess Celestia, for grand treason."

Flash carefully aimed his crossbow not at Luna, but at the foot of the throne, while Mary charged her horn once again.

A one-two punch. He kept his finger on the trigger, waiting for the signal. As soon as Sunshine lowered his gun, they would unleash hell on their Queen. Even an Alicorn must surely go down against that much firepower.

If she didn't, a 19 inch naval gun would do the trick.

The strange pony at her side laughed, and began to step down towards them. Luna, wearing some strange armour, sat silently in the dark. Her glowing eyes gazed down at them, as her apparent second approached. Flash knew her name, but thought she had been branded a traitor. Mezza Luna.

"You fools, you have already lost. Have you not looked outside?" She asked.

Flash spared a glace to the side. Beyond the shattered windows, and with Wonderbolts silhouetted in it for moments at a time, a red moon hung over Equestria.

A blood moon. It sent shivers down his spine.

"Yes, the blood moon. Not for a thousand years has Equestria beheld it's splender, but tonight it rose. Tomorrow we will clean up Canterlot, and then Equestria will know not three, but one ruler. I stand by her side, and you..."

She laughed again.

"Stand in the way!" She shouted, and stepped aside.

Luna blinked, and lifted from the throne. Flash glanced to the Sunshine, and noted he still pointed his weapon forward, although he seemed conflicted, aiming it just to the side of Luna herself. An argument seemed to be playing in his mind, while Flash waited for his command. They only had a few moments at the most.

"A blood moon has risen, it is true. Tonight you have sacked the capital at my side, and Equestria is in my grasp. My sister has been banished to the Crystal Empire, and this pathetic force faces the hopeless task of trying to defeat me. I assure you, no amount of naval artillery or guns..."

She paused for a moment in her speech, and in a split second they were all taken by a blue field, held firm and unable to speak- or move.

"... can possibly defeat me. I commend you on your bravery, but this is the end." She finished, and turned to her second.

Flash cursed inwardly. They had lost their chance, all thanks to his commanders indecision. Now, they were doomed.

To his shock, and awe, she instantly grasped the pony by the neck. "The end of you, you treacherous filth! I have brought these brave ponies here to end you, and they have done exactly as ordered- far more than I can say about you!" She shouted, almost at a deafening pitch, and grasped tighter.

"The blood moon rises for thee, Commander!"

Mezza Luna kicked forward futilely, and gasped for breath. Flash grinned as he saw Luna stride into the moonlight, her mane shimmering as it flowed from her blue body. Flash knew his Princesses well, and this was Luna, not the rumoured return of Nightmare Moon.

He heard a crack from behind, and remembered the guards they had seen before. Luna noticed too, released them from their holding.

"Cover that door!" She ordered.

Flash flung himself against the wall, on two legs with his back against it. The others repeated this as quickly as they could, except for Mac- who started dumping his magazine down the hallway.

"Mary, shield him!" Flash shouted.

Mary nodded, and quickly threw up a blue shield ahead of their stallion-turret.

Flash quickly took a peek down the hall, and was able to make out a trio of bat ponies snapping shots towards them, before he was forced back into cover. They had those automatic rifles they had been warned about, and even their inaccurate spewing of bullets was having an effect, plastering the entrance with a hail of metal. Sparks flew at their feet, and the remains of the carpet burst into flame here and there.

Sunshine was up against the wall behind Mary, and stared into the abyss. It seemed that the pressure had gotten to him.

"I can't keep this up!" Mac shouted.

Flash checked his rifle, and prepared for the worst. Luna was still taken with her second, yelling something inaudible over the gunfire at her. Sunshine seemed to be in another world, still staring at the other end of the room.

"Sir!" Flash yelled, trying to get his attention.

He glanced back at Flash, with a stare that seemed to go right through him. Then he turned back, seemingly uncaring of all that was going on around him.

He raised his pistol, and fired.

Luna screamed in pain, and was forced to release her captive. Flash cringed, and looked over to where she was.

Flash watched, frozen in terror, as she transformed into the Nightmare. A further five shots bounced off her, and they were all crushed against the wall.

"You fool!" She shouted, and turned her glowing eyes down at them.

_______________

Spitfire watched as the Wide Flank, barely visible in the dim twilight, receded into the distance. They had very simple orders, but as always making her orders reality would be difficult. They had to go attack an alicorn, head on. Hopefully, Luna wasn't actually behind all this, but if she was...

"Ten kilometers- do they see it yet?" Twilight asked Echo, breaking her train of thought.

"They're reporting nothing, they could fire off a few flares to light the sky," Echo replied.

Spitfire glanced over Twilight, and looked at the radar screen. Three blips, closing on a fourth.

"Can't do that, it would confuse the missiles." Twilight said.

Spitfire sighed, and slouched in her chair.

Command. Command meant you had to be right- even when you were wrong. The crew couldn't ever question her, not for a moment. Lives rode on her every whim being followed out to the letter. Her job was to make the choices, and deal with the consequences. Their job was to carry those choices out, to those consequences. Consequences that, recently, weighed on her like a twelve-seven Wonderbolt gun pack.

There was no time for that now, however. She had a mission to carry out.

"We've waited long enough, get the ship in gear and the rest of the first moving out," She said, and swivelled towards the crew at the rear of the bridge.

"Recall Dash Wing, and have them refit for CAS. Prepare the guns for ground bombardment. We're going to clear out that ground fire, and then we'll have open skies for bombing," She ordered.

Clear Skies relayed the order, and the ship began to move forward. Twilight looked back at her, with a searching glance.

"You're not seriously going to bomb Canterlot, are you?" She asked.

Spitfire tented her hooves, which displayed the great scar running down her right arm for all to see. She wore it like a medal: greater proof of her service then a dozen awards.

"I want all strategic options on the table. These insurrectionists need to be halted, here and now."

Twilight didn't seem entirely satisfied. "You've changed. I didn't know much before, but I never knew you to be so... cold."

"I am what Equestria needs me to be," Spitfire said, and gestured to the radar.

"You have a job to do."

Twilight hesitated for a moment, but the beeping from the radar sent her back to work.

"Seven kilometres, if they launch missiles now and pull out- they should hit it," Twilight said.

"If they miss?" Spitfire asked.

"Th... Spitfire!" Twilight exclaimed, and stood up in alarm.

"If anybody is on the ground, and they miss... the consequences would be horrible!"

Spitfire considered, while the Princess stared at her in horror.

"Order them to fire."

Twilight darted away from her seat, and leapt towards Echo. She was too late- Echo relayed the order like any professional would.

"No! That's Ponyville down there, the risk is too great!" She exclaimed, glancing at the crew for some sign of support.

Spitfire rose from her seat. "Princess Twilight, could you see me in my office?"

"Gladly, Air Martial." Twilight said, and followed her- taking a moment to glance at the kill board.

A minute later, Spitfire sat in her office chair with Twilight across from her, pacing back and forth in the room.

"Relax, Princess, you're going to give yourself an ulcer," Spitfire suggested.

"Relax?!" Twilight exclaimed, flailing her hooves in the air. "Relax?!"

"How are you so relaxed, you just put ten thousand ponies in danger!"

Twilight paused, and slammed the table. "My friends are down there!"

"Would you rather I not take the chance, and Ponyville get bombed regardless? Even if one of those missiles comes down, it's a lot less than that plane is carrying." Spitfire said.

Twilight looked at her as if she was insane. "How, how are you so cold about all this? Is this all a numbers game to you, do their lives mean nothing?"

Spitfire twitched, but retained her composure.

"Don't say anything you're going to regret, Princess. I care for every pony under my command, and for every citizen of Equestria. We all do." Spitfire said.

"You don't seem to."

Spitfire sighed, and lay her hat on the desk.

"I can't seem to, don't you get it? If I ever look weak, or indecisive, for even a second- the crew starts to question things. The moment that happens, ponies die. Everything hinges on them following my orders- even if history disagrees with what I do."

"Twilight, I have regrets. I have many regrets. I've gone left when I should have gone right, but there's nothing I can do about it. I can cry when the war's over."

Twilight gasped in comprehension.

"It's fake, a mask." She said.

Spitfire crossed her arms, again showcasing that great scar, and allowed her to continue.

"You lost someone, someone dear to you. You blame yourself for it, so you built this wall up around yourself. You're afraid to get close to anyone, that if you do, you won't be able to lead as well. Afraid that it will happen again."

"If that's what you think." Spitfire said.

"You need to grieve, Spitfire. The Magnificent is going to be in dry-dock for a while, right?"

Spitfire nodded. "We need repairs, that's true," she said, and wondered where Twilight was going with this.

"Take a vacation." Twilight said.

"I will do no such thing, the Wonderbolts need me," Spitfire returned.

"Captain Northstar is capable enough, would you like me to make it official- on the bridge? I can place you on leave if you like."

Spitfire sighed. "No."

"Good," Twilight said. "I'll... stop interfering with your work."

She left the door open when she left, and Spitfire smiled to herself.

"Princess," Spitfire said, and Twilight glanced back at her.

"Thank you."

Twilight smiled, and nodded before returning to her place. Spitfire took a moment to herself, and opened a desk drawer. In there, buried under dozens of reports, was something dear to her. A letter, dated March 998. She looked at it, turned it over in her hooves, and felt it. Her last remaining memory of him, of Soarin.

She put it back, and decided where she would go during her "vacation". For now though, duty was still calling.

"Did we get it?" Spitfire asked Echo, as she strode out of her office.

Echo set down the headset, and took a deep breath before turning her chair around to Spitfire.

"Yes, and the planes are heading back now. Three hits..."

She paused, clearly distraught, and looked up at Spitfire with her face twitching with emotion.

"Three misses. Ponyville is on fire."

The rest of the crew, who had been busy at their own tasks, became quiet. Spitfire turned towards them, stone face gazing at their horrified looks.

"The order was mine, and I take responsibility," She spoke, her voice carrying with authority.

Then she turned back to Echo.

"Carry on."

Echo put her headset back on, and returned to work relaying communications, while Spitfire returned to her own seat. Twilight looked back at her, and saw her in a new light. She respected her, and her role. She was the military mind, As cold as she seemed, she was right.

She was exactly what Equestria needed.

Twilight felt a pang of sadness, as she realized the sacrifice Spitfire had made. More than herself, more perhaps than most of them.

Spitfire cocked an eyebrow at her, and she turned back to her station. Out the window, Canterlot finally came into view. Parts of it were dimly lit by fire, while spotlights trained on the sky, and lines of tracers flashed in the sky.

"We can't launch the troopships with those air defences up, bring us broadside." Spitfire ordered.

"Troopships?" Twilight asked.

"That's right, we're using those two destroyers. Groundfire would be far too much to use the landing craft, and they can't glide that far anyway," Spitfire replied.

"Prepare for ground bombardment, condition one."

Twilight had to hold herself in her seat as the ship forcefully turned on it's side. A red light began spinning at he head of the bridge, and their weapons masters barked orders. The ships deck became lit, and the great guns gleamed in the night sky as they turned to face their targets.

When the first gun fired, and shook the ship with it's power, Twilight realized something.

Spitfire was the single most powerful pony on the planet: with this ship alone she could easily sack Canterlot and take power for herself. Her Wonderbolt's were loyal to a tee, and if asked to choose...

Twilight was very, very, thankful that Spitfire was loyal, and that power was focused against Equestria's enemies.

Spitfire thought something similar, and while the crew was busy she held a hoof in front of her face, and covered Canterlot with it. From here, the city looked like a toy. A toy that she could crush on a whim. Ponies had killed for the power she had, and she could use it to get so much more, perhaps absolute power. She could rule the world.

She lowered her hoof.

As long as Celestia rose the sun, and Luna the moon, Equestria was in good hooves. Who was she to get in the way of that?

"Air defences are down, deploy ground troops?" Echo asked.

"Make it so, and keep a pair of guns on the castle."

_______________

"No mercy!"

Wildcard turned, and saw the insurrectionists on the far side of the shield turn away, their leader gesturing down the road. Near the end, Wildcard could see an injured changeling limping away. How he had gotten there, and what had happened to him, Wildcard did not know.

"You can't kill him, he's no threat to you!" Wildcard shouted, dashing to the edge of the shield past the defenders.

The leader lowered his gun, and slowly turned to face Wildcard. They remained seperated by the shield, Wildcard's face lit by his horn.

"Really? A shapeshifter is no threat? Even unarmed, your kind represents the greatest threat to decent life in the world. Your evil knows no bounds, and I aim to exterminate it. Ambassador."

He turned, and gestured towards the injured warrior with his sidearm.

"Fire!"

Wildcard was powerless, and could do no more than snarl animalistically in anger as his comrade was cut down by dozens of bullets. He wanted to fight back, to strike, to smash that sneering face into the ground, but he couldn't.

"Look at you, back to your primal instincts. You're an animal, and I'm the hunter. You'll meet your friend soon enough, you can rest easy on that."

Wildcard snarled at him, but caught himself before totally losing his mind. He forced himself to turn away, and his brain dragged his adrenaline filled body back down the street. He shoved his way past the defending line, and darted into the embassy. He found his wife in his office, and on seeing her calmed down as he came to her side.

He stroked his wive's mane, as she relaxed on a makeshift bed in his office. Keeping the shield up was draining her, much more so than he had hoped. Outside, the situation became increasingly untenable. Dozens of traitors lined up behind their own barricades, aiming at the defenders with assault rifles. The defenders had a few griffon flamethrowers, and rocket propelled grenades, but on the whole were vastly outgunned. When the shield came down, it was going to be a massacre.

He released her, and quietly closed the door behind him when he left. Outside, the three changelings chosen by Silver Shield stood ready, their chests stuck out at attention. Three changeling warriors, hardened by time and combat in Southrop-Grumman. Their green eyes watched him, waiting for orders. He knew they would follow them to the letter, whatever that letter may be.

"We're leaving, and I need you three for a diversion. This isn't going to be easy, and the risks are absolute, but you'll be heroes whatever the outcome." Wildcard said.

"I want you two to disguise... as my wife and I. The third will also disguise as me, but with a different mission." He said, and pointed to the first two.

"Go into the cave system, and try to make your way inside the castle. When you are found- and you will be found- hold out for as long as you can."

They nodded, and he turned to the third.

"You will also disguise as myself. Find Mezza Luna. Kill her." He ordered.

Both clearly suicidal tasks, but they needed to divert some of those guards somehow. Holding out at the embassy stopped being a possibility as soon as Luna turned. Now, their only chance was escape. He would be damned if any harm ever came to First Class.

The third grinned, showing his fangs. He was clearly happy with his open-ended objective.

"Take on targets of opportunity however you wish, the important part is you draw off as much of there force as possible. Is that understood?" Wildcard asked.

"Yesss." They hissed.

"Good, now go, and do your duty." Wildcard ordered.

They bowed, which he found a nice touch, and changed form as ordered. They spared him one last grin before departing, passing Silver Shield on the way out.

He squinted at Wildcard, seemingly trying to look through him. He quickly gave up, and decided to just glance below his eyes.

"I hope this is worth it. Those are real, living, changelings you know." He said.

"So are we." Wildcard said, and put a hoof on his shoulder. "We're going to rush the lines. It's our only chance. "

"Not everyone is going to make it, we're still up against a lot of heavily armed enemies. I can't guarantee anybodies safety."

Wildcard led him out the door. "No, but we have a couple aces up our sleeves," he said, and looked down the street.

"What are we contending with now, and what do we have?"

"Seventy warriors, a hundred reservists, and the Equestrian leaders. A total of a hundred fifty, and we've got guns for everyone," Silver said, and turned to his commander.

"Thirty bats at either end of the street, and they've got us outgunned hard. How are you planning to break through them?"

"Oh Silver, don't you know friendship is magic? Look at them, look how close they are." Wildcard said, gesturing down the street towards the first barricade. Lyra was keeping his agents spirits high, telling jokes even while she manned an emplaced gun.

"We've all soaked up enough magic to give them a run for their money. As soon as I see any sign of hesitation, both lines are going to break. You'll lead the south line, I'll take the North. Use that magic- it'll come naturally." He said.

"You're sure? Not everyone is going to make it out." Silver reminded him.

"I know that, but if we sit here we'll be slaughtered. The die was rolled for us, we've just got to make sure we don't fold. Fight hard, Silver, and meet up in Ponyville."

Silver nodded, and with a sharp salute went to his station at the end of the south road. Wildcard went back inside, to his wife. She still lay in his office, barely awake. He sat down beside her, and stroked her blue mane.

What a contrast, he thought. This pegasus mare, in all her innocent beauty, married to him. What had he done to deserve this? Not only did she mean everything to him, but she was the changeling races salvation. Proof of everything he had said earlier that evening. He would save his race by destroying it, by merging back with the ponies. It was the only way, and their foal would be the first in a new generation. A generation of changelings not bred in a valley for duty by an uncaring Queen, but by loving partners. Their foal would be stronger, and more intelligent, than his contemporaries. He would be like Chrysalis' current second- Medulla- except not brainwashed into submission. He would also know something Wildcard hadn't- loving parents.

Interestingly: First Class was an orphan. Fate played strange games with mortals.

"Wild, how's it going out there?" She asked, weakly opening her eyes.

He held her head in his hooves, and smiled warmly. "We're in a bad spot, but I'm going to get us out of it. Can you walk?"

She lifted her head, and frowned with the effort. "Nope," she said, letting it fall back into Wildcard's hooves.

Wildcard smirked. "Really? You're the strongest mare I've ever known, and a little thing like keeping a half kilometre wide energy shield up is getting you down?" he joked.

"No jokes, not now. I don't know what you're planning, but if we die- I'll kill you." First Class said.

"I thought you said no jokes?"

"That wasn't a joke."

Her eyes closed again, and Wildcard felt the magic he was siphoning weaken. He had to go now, or he would lose it completely. He took a deep breath, and wrapped her in the blanket before slinging his wife over his back.

"You really going to carry me like this?" She asked.

"For you, I would carry Celestia up a mountain."

Wildcard strode out the door, with her on his back. He thought to himself that she must be comfortably padded up there, and took great care with his package, as if he carried the world itself.

In the street, the north barricades troops came to attention as they saw him approach. They had long since abandoned their changed forms, but still wore the police uniforms.

"All warriors?" Wildcard asked himself, looking down the line.

It seemed that all the reservists had gone with Silver, or else he had ordered them to.

Wildcard understood. Silver Shield had taken the harder task on himself: the south barricade had a much longer run to get out of the city. He made his choice, and decided to save as many changelings as he could.

"Weapons ready. We're going to charge the line. I assume you all were taught basic combat spells?"

They nodded.

"Good, you should be pretty well charged now. It'll come naturally."

Again they nodded, and gave him toothy grins. A changeling warrior was bred for combat, and like most things loved to do what they were meant to do. They had all be been taught basic magic, but it was rare to see it in use. Canterlot was going to see the power of a changeling century at it's best.

Wildcard looked past them, and to the opposing barricade. The enemy leader watched him, seemingly bemused by all this. Wildcard remembered to earlier, and his eyes glowed a bright blue as his anger grew. The changelings behind him met this with a green glow of their own as they felt it.

When Chrysalis had originally designed them, she had done it well. A changeling leader was able to, through the same mechanism that allows love to fuel magic, turn the warriors into a ferociously unstoppable horde if they concentrated enough. They would feel no pain, and could very well run themselves to death before giving up. He hadn't used this power in a long, long time, but he hadn't forgotten it either.

"And another thing!" He shouted furiously. "We show these cowards no mercy, and we give them no quarter! I want their leader for myself, kill the rest!"

"Weapons ready!" Wildcard shouted, and threw a hoof towards the edge of the shield before him.

His force lined up before him, rifled pointed at the few dozen traitors on the other side. The leader stepped forward from the line, and adjusted his helmet as he looked at Wildcard.

"You can't possibly break through our lines, surrender!" The leader shouted down at them.

"The hell I can't!" Wildcard shouted back.

His nemesis raised his sidearm, and his troops racked their weapons. Wildcards did the same, and their horns glowed green with magic. In the distance, a light flashed, and for a moment the Canterlot Castle was silhouetted in the sky. A deep rumbling explosion echoed throughout, and the enemy leader glanced back for just a moment.

It was all Wildcard needed.

"Charge!" He yelled, and dashed forward.

The shield came down, and his warriors lunged forward sending green beams piercing down the street towards their enemy. They screamed insanely, and discharged their conventional weapons along with magic. Wildcard drew the shield around himself, and went behind them.

Their charge had one hell of an effect, and they quickly swept through the first line of insurrectionists. The line behind staged a hasty retreat, and ran firing backwards.

"No mercy!" Wildcard yelled, and his warriors brought them all down, quickly leaping over their fallen bodies in their unstoppable blitzkrieg. Their leader had abandoned his post early, and frantically ran ahead of them down a side street.

The war party slid around the corner, and came within view of the city wall. The only thing that stood between it and them, was a single frightened insurrectionist, running in terror. When he reached the wall, he looked back at them with horror in his eyes.

He emptied his entire magazine, futilely, at the charging party. Two of the warriors were cut down, but the whole wasn't slowed at all.

"Halt!" Wildcard ordered his party.

His warriors stopped, while he strode up to the terrified bat pony.

"I was just following orders!" He yelled, and tossed aside his rifle.

Wildcard came upon him, while he cowered in fear. The changeling felt something he hadn't in quite some time, the bittersweet taste of fear. He drank it, and felt the magic swell in himself.

"Orders. Just following orders. You committed treason. You committed murder." Wildcard said, scowling at him while his own agents closed in.

The pony glanced to the side, and then back at Wildcard.

"I surrender!" he protested.

Wildcard picked up his rifle, and levitated it before his face. The fire from anti-air guns behind him flashed every few moments, lighting the scene.

Wildcard melted the gun, magically, and let it's molten husk drip to the ground. The gunpowder ignited harmlessly, flaming before Wildcard's face. The pony was in a state of sheer terror, which only fuelled him more.

"I don't care." Wildcard said, and picked him up in a green field.

The pony struggled, and gazed in horror at the hissing mass of changelings below him as he raised into the air. Wildcard began to cackle, and gripped him tight in that field.

"No mercy!"

The last thing he heard before Wildcard sent him bursting through the wall, was the thunder of the Magnificents cannons. The last thing he saw, was a hundred green eyes.

Comments

[RandomPerson78642]

You really ought to add a Dark tag at this point.

[Gladi Writes]

4538938
I might consider it, but I don't see it being that dark.

[Waltenbook]

I don't know, this last chapter was pretty hard to see in.

Because of how dark it was? Ha ha ha.

[Salizar65]

wow spitfire and soarin. never saw that coming.