Chapter 1: Raising Hell
Chapter 1: Raising Hell
On the outskirts of Hoofington stood a large building of rusty corrugated steel, formerly an airship hangar. Flimsy walls divided its interior into several rooms full of tables, boxes, and machinery. Racks held tools of every conceivable shape and size, and bins held wires, screws, bolts, brackets, and all sorts of hardware. Half-finished machines covered several workbenches, and cuttings and crumpled paper littered the floor. This was the workshop of Inkie Pie, who regularly burned the midnight oil as she designed her inventions. It was nearly midnight now, and the interior of her shop swam with shifting light from the fireflies in the lamps hanging from the ceiling.
Inkie had a gray coat, a gray mane, and a PhD. Muttering to herself, peering through the elaborate system of lenses she wore on her muzzle, she leaned over a drafting table with a pencil between her teeth and carefully added the final notes to a technical drawing.
With a sigh of relief, Inkie spat out the pencil and sat back in her chair.
“Honestly, these darn hooves,” she muttered.
She hopped from her seat and went to the bench where the framework for her latest invention lay half-constructed. Frowning, she peered at a gasket peeking out between two metal joints and decided it was out of alignment, so she slipped her right front hoof into a cup attached to a wrench and clamped the cup tight with her teeth.
She tried to turn a nut to loosen the joint, but the cup on the wrench slipped and scraped painfully against her pastern.
“Ow! Ow! Blast it! Celestia curse these hooves!” She yanked a release catch, dropped the wrench to the floor, and rubbed her sore foot. “Every technological advancement we ponies have ever made has been in defiance of these useless appendages. Tungsten Steve, where are you? Tartarus take you, get over here!”
On the other side of the room, an enormous minotaur, his upper body loaded with muscle, looked up from a desk where he was filling out inventory forms. He smiled and tugged on the gold ring in his nose. “Ya need somethin’, Miss Inkie?”
“Yes I need something, or I wouldn’t have called you, you oaf. And I prefer to be called Inkamena, if you please. Doctor Pie would be even better. Now get over here and turn this wrench for me.”
Tungsten Steve heaved his big body off the little stool on which he’d been perched. He lifted his bulky arms, interlaced his fingers behind his head, and flexed his biceps. “When a pony can’t do it with her cannons, she calls in the guns.”
“Stop showing off.”
Kicking aside pieces of old electrical insulation, Tungsten Steve walked across the room, picked up the wrench, and quickly turned the nut Inkie had been trying to work. “How’s that, Miss Inkie?”
“Fine, thank you, and don’t call me Inkie. Honestly, what I wouldn’t give for a pair of hands.”
“You finish up this new machine an’ you’ll have some real nice ones.”
“Yes. Then maybe I can fire you.”
Tungsten Steve laughed.
Inkie looked down at the framework on the desk and sighed. The concept was simple, but designing and constructing a practical model was difficult. The machine consisted of a brace to be worn on the back, coupled to which was a pair of spring-loaded supports that ran down the wearer’s hind legs. The structure could, theoretically, hold a pony in a bipedal position and help her maintain her balance. Not yet attached to the machine were the more complicated parts still in the planning stages, gadgets fitting over the front hooves and imitating hands. The suspension system and pylons had been easy enough to design, and the functional fingers had proven only slightly more difficult; the real problem was developing a control system. However, if Inkie was successful, ponies wearing her machines could stand like bipeds and manipulate objects the same way minotaurs and satyrs could.
“This,” she said, petting the unfinished device, “will change ponydom forever. We have the minds to do amazing things, but we lack the tools. I will provide the tools, and then nothing will be impossible for us. Science will make up for what nature lacks. Soon, ponies will stop walking on all fours; they will stand up like minotaurs and, with their newfound hands, move the world.”
Tungsten Steve scratched his head. “Wouldn’t standin’ like that all the time be kinda hard on your back? I mean, you ain’t got no lumbar curve.”
“We’ll make do,” Inkie answered. “The domination of nature by science is worth a little back pain. Speaking of which, I’ve been bending over that blasted drafting table all night and my back is killing me.”
Tungsten Steve cracked his knuckles and obligingly rubbed her shoulders.
She sighed. “Yes, that’s it. Higher. No, higher. The knot is in my trapezius.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“You really are useless, Tungsten Steve.”
He smiled and patted her withers. “So you keep telling me.”
A loud bang came from the shop’s small front door.
“Who in the world is visiting at this hour?” said Inkie. “Is there no time of day when I can work in peace?”
She trotted to the door, threw it open, and started in surprise when she saw the grim, craggy-faced white unicorn stallion standing on the other side.
“Oh, Colonel Ironsides. What brings you here so late?”
Ironsides cleared his throat. “Madam Mayor, I--”
“Please don’t call me madam. It makes me sound like an old nag.”
“Fine, Miss Mayor. I wish you spent half as much time running the town as you spend tinkering with your gadgets or worrying about what ponies call you.”
Inkie snorted. “I am an ideal elected official. I keep out of ponies’ way and let them go about their business. But, honestly, I never much wanted the job: my cutie mark is a quill and inkwell, and somepony decided that must mean I’m an expert at signing legislature.” She gestured to the long lab coat covering her haunches. “I wish I had already then decided to keep my hips covered. I’ve come to the realization that it’s vulgar for ponies to have their cutie marks on display; it makes public what ought to be private. What do you think?”
Ironsides turned his head and looked at his own cutie mark, which was a pair of crossed swords. “I think you’ll have a hard time finding popular support for that idea.”
“Such is the fate of all good ideas. Speaking of which, I suspect my latest good idea is meeting a terrible fate right now.” Inkie walked to a wall and picked up a pair of cans attached to strings. She placed one can against an ear and held the other to her muzzle. “Bossy? Are you there?” she shouted. She listened for a few seconds and then shouted again, “No, no! I told you, the stress on this system would be too much for that. I need you to use the machined phosphor bronze terminals, not the stamped and formed gold plate. No, they don’t require a plug. The strip length is 3.27 centimeters, and I’ve told you that a dozen times, so why can’t you remember, you cow?”
Inkie dropped the cans in disgust. “Honestly, good help is so hard to find. My second assistant is apparently now in the process of destroying the electrical harness I spent the entire day yesterday designing.”
“That’s no reason to call her names,” Ironsides said coolly.
Inkie cocked her head and stared at him. “What are you talking about? Bossy is a cow.”
A door at the far end of the room creaked open. A spotted cow bounced in wearing a heavy welder’s apron and carrying a plate of cookies and a glass of milk balanced on her back.
“I think somepony’s been workin’ too ‘ard, don’cha know?” the cow said.
Uncharacteristic color entered Inkie’s cheeks as the cow set down the milk and cookies on a nearby bench and patted Inkie’s head.
“Ooh, my little Inkie ‘ere always gets cranky when she don’ get ‘er sleep, don’cha know? ‘Getcher sleep now, Inkie,’ I’m a-tellin’ her, but no, she likes to stay up late an’ make ‘er little machines.”
Inkie grit her teeth. “Bossy--”
“Now eatcher cookies an’ drink your milk an’ you’ll feel all better. You need milk to grow up big an’ strong like yer older sister, don’cha know?”
Inkie exploded. “My sister? My sister has never done anything worthwhile in her life! And I am not a child, Bossy!”
“Moo, course not,” Bossy said, patting Inkie’s head again.
“I am going to be somepony,” Inkie muttered, taking the glass of milk in her front hooves and glugging it. When she came up for air, she muttered again, “I am going to be one of the greatest scientists Equestria has ever known. Like Louis Pastern.” She gazed longingly at the wall above Tungsten Steve’s desk where a large painting of the famous scientist hung.
Bossy dabbed off Inkie’s milk moustache. “Course you are, dear, but I’m sure ol’ Mister Pastern knew when it was his bedtime.”
Tungsten Steve covered his muzzle, but made an audible giggle.
Ironsides cleared his throat.
“Oh, yes,” Inkie said, setting down her empty glass. “What is it you wanted, Colonel?”
“We have a possible situation,” Ironsides answered. “If you’d care to look out your window to the east, I think you’ll see what I mean.”
To find an east-facing window, Inkie had to shove aside several crates full of screws, rivets, and old electrical weaving. She pulled up the Venetian blinds, threw the window open, and stuck her head out.
An unexpectedly warm night breeze struck her face and tousled her slate-colored mane. The ominous mountains in the distance and the sky above them glowed red.
“Dawn shouldn’t be for several hours,” Inkie said. “Is Princess Celestia pulling another one of her pranks?”
Ironsides coughed. “Madam Mayor, you know why the last regiment of the old Equestrian Order is stationed here in Hoofington. You know why this town has the only military outpost in the entire country.”
“Because we’re the closest to the gate to Tartarus, of course.”
“That light is coming from the direction of the gate. I sent out scouts thirty minutes ago, but they haven’t returned.”
Inkie looked over her shoulder at Ironsides and considered for a moment. “Tungsten Steve,” she called, “get the telescope. The special telescope. Bring it to the watchtower.”
“All of it?” Tungsten Steve asked.
“Of course!”
A few minutes later, Inkie, Tungsten Steve, and Colonel Ironsides stood in the watchtower on the eastern edge of Hoofington’s decrepit military base while Bossy waited at the foot of the tower with some of the soldiers. Tungsten Steve adjusted the controls on a complicated telescope as Inkie tried to operate the finicky cathode ray tube attached to it.
The screen showed lines of static, so Inkie tapped it repeatedly. “Honestly, this is supposed to be the latest technology, but I can never get a clear picture on the thing without hitting it.” After several taps, a reddish glow appeared. “Tungsten Steve, it’s blurry. Adjust the lens.”
Keeping the telescope pointed toward the eastern horizon, Tungsten Steve turned various dials. At last, the picture came into focus.
Inkie swallowed and said, “I think this explains why your scouts haven’t reported back, Colonel.”
“It does indeed,” Ironsides answered.
On the screen, three pegasus ponies hung on crosses in the midst of a swirl of falling ash. They writhed, tossing their heads in agony. Their crosses were mounted on the backs of great, slavering beasts with reptilian scales and mouths full of long fangs. Around the beasts marched enormous monsters of every shape, their flesh covered in boils, their misshapen limbs ending in long claws, and their faces--evident even on the fuzzy monitor--full of malevolence.
“They’re headed this way,” said Tungsten Steve.
Ironsides ran to the tower’s railing and shouted down to his troops. “Sound the alarms! Warn the town, and get the mares and foals out first! The day we’ve awaited has arrived: Tartarus is open, and the monsters of Hell are upon us!”
Inkie said to Tungsten Steve, “I need you and Bossy to get out all the special equipment. Call up everypony we've trained to use it. And I’ll need the Mark VII.”
Tungsten Steve scratched his head. “We ain’t finished testing it.”
“We never will.”
“But it only works with the Pegasaucer, and that thing still explodes on impact.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. I need it.”
The glow in the east grew steadily brighter, and ash began to fall from the sky. A Klaxon sounded and lights came on in the houses of Hoofington. The soldiers donned their battle tack. Unicorns skilled in destructive magic used levitation spells to lift boulders into trebuchets. Pegasi hastily assembled a bank of black storm clouds and positioned themselves to buck lightning.
Inkie gave her secretary terse instructions for an organized evacuation. Then, while the soldiers got ready, she gathered the earth ponies she had trained as engineers. They opened the broad door of her hangar, slipped into harnesses, and hauled out her more controversial inventions--projectile weapons capable of firing pellets, balls, or shells at high velocities by means of compressed air or explosive powder. Before the base’s eastern wall, Inkie set up a battery of cannons and mortars. Her engineers quickly hauled in sandbags to create nests for the guns.
As Inkie and Bossy oversaw the loading of the weapons, Ironsides ran to them. “I want all your civilian personnel to evacuate with the townies, and I want you to go with them.”
“You need us here,” Inkie answered. “Your soldiers can’t operate the artillery. Thanks to technology, earth ponies can now fight as well as pegasi or unicorns, and we’re going to prove that tonight.”
“This is not the occasion for you to get on your soapbox, Inkamena! I want the civilians out of here!”
“I’ve already given the evacuation orders to everypony who isn’t on my crew. Sorry, Colonel, but tonight, I am going into battle personally.”
With a loud whistle, a fireball sailed overhead from the east. It passed over the military base and landed in Hoofington with a boom. The thatched roofs of several houses quickly caught fire, illuminating everything with flickering orange light. More fireballs soon followed, and one landed in the base itself.
Inkie pointed a hoof at six earth ponies unloading sandbags from a cart. “You there! Get the firefighting equipment! You’re on fire detail tonight!” She shouted to the artillery ponies, “Establish a firing distance and reply! Do it!”
Over the past few years, Inkie’s engineers had carefully mapped the hilly, parched land between the mountains and Hoofington, determined firing angles to hit its various parts, and figured out how to adjust for temperature, humidity, and wind. Estimating the distance of the advancing demon horde, they set their weapons and fired a volley. The earth shuddered from the deafening boom as the guns went off, launching shells into the air.
Tungsten Steve, who still watched the telescope in the tower, radioed down, “Too short! The shots fell short!”
“Too short!” Inkie called. “Adjust, load, and fire again!”
“No!” Ironsides yelled. “Those are my stallions those monsters have out there! You fire these things of yours, you’ll hit them!”
“Your three scouts are already lost,” Inkie answered. “They were very brave, but--”
Ironsides used a levitation spell to grab Inkie by the front of her lab coat and haul her into the air.
“Ugh!” she cried. “Typical unicorn thug! Get your filthy magic off me, you dastard!”
“Listen,” Ironsides said through grit teeth, “Equestria hasn’t had a war in millennia. We’re all out of practice, and we’re all going to make mistakes, but there’s one thing I know: the Equestrian Order doesn’t leave anypony behind. We’re going to rescue my troops, and then, for all I care, you can blast the whole world to Hell.”
“It’s a trap, Colonel. How many more stallions are you willing to send to the devils?”
“I know it’s a trap! That’s why I’m going myself, darn it!” He dropped her.
She dusted off her coat. “Fool. The soldiers need you here.”
He turned from her, breathing hard. “I won’t abandon them, I won’t fire weapons at them . . . and I won’t send anypony else to save them. I don’t have a choice. I’ve told the troops that, if I’m captured, they’re to fire at will.”
“Every moment we delay is a moment the forces of Tartarus draw closer.”
“I know.”
She snorted. “Stallions! Ridiculous fools, all of them. Why can’t you males ever grow up? What filly are you trying to impress with your misplaced gallantry, Colonel Ironsides?”
He turned back around and grinned at her. “I can’t help myself, Doctor Pie. I’m a crusty old soldier, and I will be until the day I die.”
Inkie chewed her lip. “Your rugged, individualistic machismo won’t help you here, I think. Let me give you another option: if you are unwilling to leave your captured scouts where they are, then take the battle to the devils before they reach the walls. You’ve no hope of saving your stallions if you go alone, but with your regiment behind you, you might. Make an assault; in the confusion, rescue the scouts. Then retreat to the base and let my engineers hit them with all we’ve got. That way, we’ll soften them up before they can begin a proper siege of the base. We might stand a chance.”
“I like the way you think.”
Inkie jumped onto a pile of sandbags. “Bossy!” she shouted. “You’re in charge until I return! Order the boys to prepare a rolling barrage. We’re making a charge!”
“Oh ya, don’cha know?” Bossy shouted back.
“What do you mean ‘we’?” Ironsides demanded.
“Trust me, you’ll want me along,” Inkie answered. “Come back to my workshop; I have something that might give us a leg up.”
Inkie and Ironsides ran through the open hangar bay doors. Inkie gestured to a hulk of steel shaped vaguely like a gigantic pony. It had thick, piston-driven limbs with enormous gimbals for joints. Its hooves were pointed with spikes, and mounted on its back was an array of rocket launchers and rotating-barrel machine guns. The elongated head had no facial features, but did have a narrow slit window.
“The Mark VII Trojan Warhorse,” Inkie said. “It takes two ponies to operate, a driver and a gunner. I can drive it. I’d have Tungsten Steve serve as gunner, but he won’t fit in the seat.”
Ironsides stared at the machine with a greedy expression on his face. “Good Celestia, Inkie, it’s beautiful. I’ll be your gunner.”
“Are you sure? Shouldn’t you--?”
“I’m absolutely sure.”
“Very well, I’ll fit you out with the Pegasaucer Armor. It plugs directly into the Warhorse’s systems, and you’ll have to wear it to operate the controls. I warn you, it still has a few bugs.”
“What sort of bugs?”
“It requires a highly inflammable fuel source--rarified liquid rainbow, to be exact. Admittedly, that defeats its purpose as armor.”
“I see.” Ironsides smiled crookedly. “You know, Inkie, since there’s a good chance we won’t survive this, I just want to say I’ve always respected you.”
Inkie felt a lump form in her throat, and her knees shook. She glared at Ironsides and sniffed. “Honestly, Colonel, I hope you don’t think a mare of my mental caliber is easily moved by displays of sentimentality.”
“Um--”
“And, really, I find such a confession grossly inappropriate at a time like this when you’ve undoubtedly calculated that I would be emotionally vulnerable.”
“Inkie--”
“I am a scientist, a creature of the mind. I consider all appetites and passions to be nuisances at best, and I would certainly never submit myself to anything so humiliating as a state of matrimony.”
“Inkie--”
“Besides that, you’re old enough to be my sire.”
The colonel’s grin grew wider. “Inkie, when I said I respected you, I just meant I respected you.”
Inkie felt heat spread into her face.
Ironsides patted her shoulder. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
Muttering to herself, Inkie went to a wall and pulled down two complicated sets of tack consisting of gray metal plates connected by several straps. She tugged off her lab coat with her teeth and threw one set of tack over her back. After she closed its many snaps, she helped Ironsides into the other set.
“Press the button on your chest,” she said. She took off her elaborate glasses. Then she reached a hoof to her breast and pressed a badge shaped like a rising phoenix. With a whir, the plates on her back opened like a puzzle box, revealing more plates. Like metal accordions, they unfolded, extending down her sides and enclosing her limbs. A helmet with a thick, tinted visor appeared over her face, leaving only her muzzle exposed.
Ironsides pressed his own badge and sucked in his breath as his armor activated.
“Try not to squirm,” Inkie said, “or it won’t fit right.”
“It certainly feels odd,” he answered.
When they were finished donning their armor, Inkie tapped the side of her helmet. “Tungsten Steve? Can you hear me?”
Her helmet crackled. “Loud and clear, Miss Inkie.”
“Good. I’m wearing the Pegasaucer. Colonel Ironsides and I are taking the Mark VII out now. Fit out as many troops as possible with the back-mounted machine guns and recoilless rifles, and show them how to use the trigger-bits. The colonel will give orders, so make sure you relay them immediately.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Inkie nodded to Ironsides. “The radio in your helmet should be working.”
“Tungsten Steve, you there?” Ironsides asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Congratulations. You’ve been drafted, and you’re now a major. You report directly to my second, Lieutenant Colonel Stonewall.”
“Sir, I refer you to the Non-Pony Protection Act, which affords me special rights including exemption from any military duty.”
“This is an emergency, I’m declaring martial law, and I have power to temporarily suspend the Non-Pony Protection Act. Don’t play lawyer with me, Major, or I’ll court-martial your rump.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I want the Second Battalion ready to go. That’s three companies of pegasi armed with storm clouds and three companies of armored unicorns. All of them need to prepare to mobilize immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ironsides nodded to Inkie. “Let’s get this Warhorse of yours up and running.”
Inkie pushed a wheeled ladder to the Warhorse, and she and Ironsides climbed to the hatch in the top. She directed him to the gunner’s seat and then dropped into the pilot’s chair where she cinched several restraining straps around herself. She grabbed a plug and inserted it into a jack hidden under a seam on the heartgirth of her armor suit.
“Strap in and jack in, Colonel. You’ll find a plug on the console right in front of you. It will activate a head’s-up display in your visor.”
“I’ve got it, Inkie . . . oh. That certainly looks strange.”
“Your visor contains miniaturized cathode ray tubes of my own invention, and they are now connected to a dual periscope up top. The display uses two cameras to estimate distance and automatically calculate angles for hitting targets. It can’t account for crosswind, though. I’m still working on that.”
“I’ll make do.”
“Unfortunately, the visor might also give you a bad headache after a few minutes.”
“Lovely.”
“You have two launchers and two machine guns, one stick for each. Red buttons fire the guns, blue launch the rockets. Ten rockets in each launcher. Reloading is automatic, and the buttons glow when they’re ready to fire.”
“Got it.”
“Let’s go.” Watching her own head’s-up display, Inkie placed her front hooves in two cups attached to a steering column. She bent her fetlocks to increase the throttle; the Warhorse shuddered, but then, with a loud grinding noise, it lifted its metal hooves and walked forward. Every time it set a foot down, Inkie’s teeth rattled in her head.
“It’s rather--nngh!--jarring,” Ironsides said behind her. “I think this is what will give me a headache.”
“Still--oof!--working the bugs out of it!” Inkie answered. “In all honesty, we--hrrgh!--nicknamed it the ‘migraine machine.’”
“Inkie, if we survive this, I’m going to kill you.”
“Ha! If you think this is bad, just wait until I put it in full gallop.”
With a rolling curtain of artillery fire advancing before them, armored unicorns ran across the broken desert. Overhead, flying pegasi pushed black columns of cloud. The Mark VII Trojan Warhorse led the charge, and the ponies met the armies of Hell head-on. Unicorns wearing Inkie’s machine guns and launchers chomped their trigger-bits and opened fire. Others blasted away with destructive spells or used levitation to pick up monsters and hurl them. The pegasi sent bolts of lightning into the demon horde, and the artillery ponies back at the base created a new curtain of fire on the devils’ rear ranks, sending them into confusion. Over all hung a thick haze of black smoke.
Now in combat and armed with the latest in experimental military technology, Colonel Ironsides lost any semblance of composure. He cut down slavering beasts with the Warhorse’s machine guns, shouting, “Go back to Hell, you dam-covering sons of witches!”
“Honestly, do I have to listen to this uncouth language?” Inkie muttered. Bouncing back and forth in her restraining harness, she steered the Warhorse through the ranks of demons, using the heavy hooves to crush the monsters and grind them into the earth. In her visor, in the midst of the melee, she saw, outlined against red flames, the three crosses rising from the backs of the four-footed beasts that carried them. The crucified ponies still struggled against their bonds.
“There!” Ironsides shouted. “Open a path and we’ll have pegasi pick them up!”
The monsters carrying the crosses had thick, armor-like scales; their bodies were covered with bony spikes, and their tails ended in large clubs. They swung their tails at any ponies who came too close, but they often struck the imps and devils as well. Their long mouths were full of crooked fangs, and their eyes dripped yellow pus. The crosses were not mounted on any sort of harness or brace, but were merely drilled into gaping holes in the monsters’ flesh, from which dark blood oozed.
Ironsides ceased firing when the Warhorse drew near. One of the beasts swung its huge tail and struck the Warhorse’s front right leg. With a shriek of metal, the machine buckled.
“Too close!” Ironsides shouted. “Back us up!”
“I can’t back up!”
“What?”
“The machine cannot back up!”
“What?”
“I was hoping to add that feature to the Mark VIII, but for now--”
One of the monsters launched itself at the Warhorse, biting the machine’s head. Inkie watched the metal walls of her compartment buckle.
“Impossible!” she shouted. “It can’t be that strong!”
The monster twisted, and the Warhorse rocked on its feet. With a groan, the machine fell sideways into the earth, slamming Inkie and Ironsides hard against their seats. The monster then set about trying to tear off one of the Warhorse’s legs.
“How do we stand back up?” Ironsides asked.
“We don’t.”
“Let me guess, you were also saving that for the Mark VIII.”
“No, that’s a problem I may never surmount.” Inkie unplugged her Pegasaucer from the console and undid her restraining harness. She could hear Ironsides doing the same thing.
“Any portable weapons in here?” he asked.
“No.”
“What about this fancy and explosive armor suit?”
“No offensive systems on it, no.”
“All right, then. I’ve got my horn. Stick close to me.”
He threw open the hatch. Together, they clambered out, and the din of battle engulfed them: monsters roared, flames crackled, thunder boomed, and ponies screamed.
They ran from the massive monster tearing at their machine; fortunately, it was busy feasting and didn’t notice them. Three demons covered in spikes and scales approached, throwing fire from their hands. With a rapid series of red blasts from his horn, Ironsides sent them sprawling to the earth.
“Darn it,” he said. “We can talk to the base, but we’ve lost our line of communication out here. That’s my fault. We’ll need a rallying point if we’re going to contact the pegasi overhead.”
“We’ll fly up,” Inkie replied.
“What?”
“Why do you think I called it the Pegasaucer? Why do you think it’s full of dangerous fuel? Open the little door on your front right leg and hit the red button.”
Ironsides did. A pair of metal wings and a miniature rocket sprouted from the back of his armor. A compartment in the plate over his chest opened, and out of it extended a device vaguely resembling an airship’s steering column.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said.
Inkie unfolded her own mechanical wings. “I recommend keeping your tail tucked down so the rocket doesn’t catch it on fire. And we’re off!” She pressed a button on her controls and her rocket lit. With a loud boom, she was airborne. She glanced back to see that Ironsides was right behind her.
As they cleared the haze of black smoke hovering over the battle on the ground, they discovered another battle in the air. Winged demons and jewel-scaled, fire-breathing wyverns beset the pegasi, who fought back as well as they could with lightning and spears.
Inkie found herself face-to-face with a scaled monster with membranous wings and long, gangly limbs ending in twisted talons. It reached out to grab her, but a blast of light struck it in the neck and sent it screaming toward the ground.
“Got ‘im!” Ironsides shouted as he flew up beside her. “This flying suit of yours is the dickens to control, but it’s amazing anyway!”
Five pegasi fell into formation alongside them. Ironsides shouted, “You there! Make a dive for our captured scouts! Grab them, and we’ll make an organized retreat. I’ll cover you from the air!”
The pegasi glanced at one another, bared their teeth, and attacked the colonel.
“Ironsides!” Inkie shouted. She dove for one of the attacking pegasi and landed on his back. He twisted around and struck her in the muzzle with a hoof, sending her spinning out of control.
As she fell, she saw on the battlefield below that the tides had turned: half the pony troops were assaulting the other half; the demons had reorganized and were now routing the ponies. Their ranks broken, the unicorns turned to flee, but their treacherous fellow soldiers mowed them down with bursts of gunfire.
Inkie placed her front hooves firmly against her controls, held her breath, and forced herself to be calm. She knew how to do this. Roll, yaw, pitch--she could distinguish each one. She turned against the yaw and, only a few feet from the deck, pulled out of the tailspin.
She cranked up the power and rocketed back into the clouds. The rogue pegasi had torn off one of the colonel’s metal wings. Four of them held his limbs while the other bit his chest, trying to rip the armor off.
“Ironsides!” Inkie shouted again.
“Get out!” Ironsides roared back. “We’ve lost! Get out of here! Head for Canterlot!” He managed to free a front leg and kick one of the pegasi in the face.
“I’m going to save you!” Inkie cried.
“You can’t! You need to go, Inkie! Equestria will need ponies like you if we’re to win this.” He freed his other front leg and grabbed one of the pegasi around the neck. “But I won’t be a war prisoner of Tartarus. You say this thing explodes on impact?”
“Colonel!”
With a heave, Ironsides freed his back legs and wrapped his rear cannons around the neck of another pegasus. “Come on,” he shouted. “If you want to fight for Hell, let’s all go to Hell together!”
He hit the control for the booster and sent himself, along with the rogue ponies he’d grabbed, plummeting downward. Shouting and crying, Inkie followed after. She watched as Ironsides crashed into the midst of a knot of demons. His armor erupted into a fireball, spraying the devils with flaming fuel.
Weeping, Inkie pulled up and banked hard as a black cloud of hot smoke reached from the blast to engulf her. She kicked up her speed and flew toward Hoofington, but the sounds of battle did not lessen as she drew near the town. She passed over the military base and saw, to her horror, that ponies armed with her weapons had turned them on their fellow soldiers, slaughtering them with machine gun fire. Her engineers, too, no longer operated the artillery, but instead fought tooth-and-hoof with one another. She watched as a pegasus leapt upon an earth pony and stabbed him over and over with a spear. In the midst of it all, she saw Tungsten Steve with Bossy tucked under one arm. He still stood in the watchtower, and rogue ponies climbed up to drag him down. Bossy bellowed in terror as Tungsten Steve slugged anypony who drew near him.
Tungsten Steve looked up as Inkie passed overhead. A grin spread across his face. With a roar, he doubled the pace of his swings and hurled five unicorns to the earth.
Inkie flew west, cursing herself. She had no weapons left. She couldn’t even save her assistants. She could do nothing but flee.
Her fuel gauge dropped rapidly as she passed over forests, meadows, and farmlands. The stars faded, the sky turned pink, and the Canterlot Cliffs, hazy and purple in the early morning light, appeared in the distance. A warmth struck Inkie’s back, and she turned her head in fear, thinking the demon hordes were upon her, but it was only the rising sun. The battle was visible now only as a distant column of smoke.
Tears ran from her eyes, leaked from under her visor, and whipped away in the wind. For years, Bossy and Tungsten Steve had been there by her side, but now she had abandoned them. In college, she had been an outcast, always holding forth on her opinion that magic was unnecessary and that ponies could accomplish so much more if they rejected it in favor of science and invention. The non-pony students, being misfits themselves, had gravitated to her: Bossy and Tungsten Steve had become her closest friends, faithfully helping her in all her endeavors even if they never quite shared her point of view. When she moved to Hoofington and foolishly made a bid for mayor, thinking she could apply her scientific principles in the political sphere, they had been there to support her. Ironsides had supported her as well, treating her with rough gallantry that was somehow both irritating and comforting. Now she had let them all down.
She flew into the rugged mountains where Canterlot perched. Cold wind whistling from the high peaks struck her face and turned the tears on her muzzle to frost. The city sprawled before her; gleaming white towers stretched over every available patch of ground on the narrow, twisting ledges, and the Canterlot Falls sparkled as they tumbled through the city and poured into the valley below. Gold and copper roofs shone blindingly in the sunlight as if they were ablaze.
Inkie’s fuel gauge hit zero just as she reached a dirigible dock where she skidded to a stop on a pier between two aerial yachts. While several dapper unicorns in day attire watched with their mouths hanging open, she stripped off her armor and galloped up a shop-laden street toward the white spires of the palace.
She was already weak, and Canterlot was full of steep ramps and stairs. Inkie forced herself to run until sweat matted her coat and foam-flecked saliva ran from her mouth. She staggered through a pond-spotted garden to the low, crenelated wall of the castle’s gatehouse. At last, she dragged herself up a curved staircase to the wall’s top and collapsed before the sturdy double doors. Two stern-faced pegasi flanking the doors glared down at her.
“What is your business?” one of them asked.
Inkie raised her head, swallowed, and struggled to speak. “I must see Princess Celestia!”
“Nopony sees the princess without an appointment,” the guard answered.
Shaking, Inkie rose and ran to the doors. “Let me in!” she cried.
The guard stepped forward and pushed her back. She again fell to the ground. “Let me in!” she shouted. “Let me in! It’s important!” She tried to kick the guard, but he held her down.
“Nopony without an appointment,” he said.
“Let me go! Get off me!” she screamed.
“What is the meaning of this?" said a kindly voice. "Release that mare."
The guard stepped back, and Inkie staggered to her hooves to see one of the doors ajar. Standing in the doorway was an elderly unicorn with a gray mane and a light green coat. He wore a monocle over one eye.
Inkie sighed in relief. “Chief Gelding Parsnip,” she said. “Thank goodness it’s you.”
“I prefer the title ‘majordomo,’” Parsnip replied. “And it’s good to see you again, Mayor Pie, though you’re looking rather ruffled. What brings you to Canterlot?”
Inkie’s head swam, and she realized she was losing consciousness. She said, “Tartarus is open, Hoofington is lost, traitors are in our midst, and the Equestrian Order is destroyed.”
With that, Inkie Pie slumped sideways and blacked out.
Stats
Page generated in 0.022 seconds
Total duration
965 users online
113,473 hits today, 2,314,256 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
FREAKIN PONY BATTLEMECHS AND POWERED ARMOR.
I LOVE THIS FIC.
As has begun posted on Queen Chraylisis?
BITCH IT IS TIME TO READ
Awwwww shiiit.
554789
You're welcome, and thank you very much for reading. I've written fan fiction before, but I'm new to this website and still slightly new to this franchise; feel free to offer any critiques.
554855
*shrugs shoulders*
As others have said on here, you seem to be using elements of Dante's Inferno and Paradise Lost. I can't help you with things related to them, since I am rather unfamiliar with them.
I would like to see this on Equestria Daily. You may want to run it through Ponychan's Training Grounds website first, though. They can work wonders, even on the most perfect of fics!
554966
Ah, I was unaware of the Ponychan Training Grounds site. I'll do that. Thanks.
Hellspawn? you call those thing hellsapwn? THESE are REAL hell spawn!:
threeguysonejoystick.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/new_classic_doom_enem_imp.gif threeguysonejoystick.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/new_classic_doom_enem_pinky.gif threeguysonejoystick.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/new_classic_doom_enem_caco2.gif threeguysonejoystick.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/new_classic_doom_enem_losts.gif
threeguysonejoystick.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/new_classic_doom_enem_hellk.gif threeguysonejoystick.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/new_classic_doom_enem_baron.gif threeguysonejoystick.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/new_classic_doom_enem_reven.gif threeguysonejoystick.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/new_classic_doom_enem_manc.gif
threeguysonejoystick.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/new_classic_doom_enem_archn.gif threeguysonejoystick.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/new_classic_doom_enem_paine.gif threeguysonejoystick.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/new_classic_doom_enem_archv.gif threeguysonejoystick.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/new_classic_doom_enem_spect.gif
threeguysonejoystick.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/new_classic_doom_enem_spid2.gif threeguysonejoystick.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/new_classic_doom_enem_cyber.gif
Infact, I'll add their COUSINS!:
realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Cybruiser.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/DeathIncarnate.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Demolisher.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Helemental.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/HellWarrior.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Hierophant.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/LordOfHeresy.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Overlord.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/PyroDemon.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Roach.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Satyr.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Shadow.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/SnakeImp.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/SuperFlyingImp.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Terminator.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Afrit.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Annihilator.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Agaures.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Arachnophyte.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Aracnorb.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/ArchonOfHell.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/ArachnotronMK2.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Azazel.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Belphegor.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/BloodFiend.png [realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/BruiserDemon.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/Catharsi.png realm667.com/images/stories/doom/beastiary/ChaingunSpider.png
557588
It crossed my mind to borrow demons from Doom, but then I decided that might not jive well with what I was doing.
if you want hell then try the guy's from taros in this game.
zohn tends to be my prefered ally tho. which side do you think the pony's would Ally with?
570277
Not really familiar with that franchise, but my best guess would be that the ponies would try to find a way to convince the four immortal siblings to be friends again and fight against the necromancer dude.
586954
Oh, shoot! I had the cap lock on while typing that chapter!
Oh . . . oh, I see what you mean.
Thanks for reading and commenting!
586977Just incase you are still confuse sir, I meant to put a proper comment easily readible, but I couldn't hold back that Pinkie Pie self in me from unleashing the Cap button.
This is what I meant in a more proper way.
-That was an awesome chapter that I had just read. Fuck yeah.
Excuse my language
SHEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!/)^3^/)
AND AWAY!
587356
Thank you for the kind words. Chapter 3 is underway, but going more slowly than I would have liked.
Showdown between Asmoday and Pinkie Pie, hmm? I'll add that to the list of things that need to happen.
Asmoday's goofball comments are actually imported from a conversation I was planning to write for another fan fic (still floating on the Internet somewhere) that I abandoned halfway through because every episode of the second half of the second season jossed a different part of it; eventually, I just couldn't maneuver my way out of trouble anymore and ended up with a convoluted mess. Originally, Asmoday's statements were in the mouth of a dragon. In the mouth of the demon of lust, I guess they do become kinda creepy.
Demonic ankliosauri.
This story is win.
Just discovered that I accidentally introduced Ironsides as a Pegasus even though I intended him to be a Unicorn. I've fixed it now. Because this is the Internet, no one will ever know.
(I'm kind of surprised that nopony called me on that.)