X-Com Equestria: Apocalypse Unknown

by Crimson ONayl

Valkyrie, the Sectopod, and the Defender

“Two SMGs, three if you count Maeda’s in the corner; one plasma pistol, four lawpistols between us and a dwindling amount of ammo for everything. All that… and you still don’t think it pertinent to ask Brad for ammo? You’re bloody nuts!”

“Titus, I don’t have time to argue with you about this, it was a mistake and I spoke too soon; besides, for all we know, the people above need that ammo to deal with the Chryssalids above ground.” Jester racked the slide of her SMG and tossed her lawpistol over to Titus.

“There, now you have two pistols, happy?”

The small lawpistol looked like a toy in Titus’ hand, and he frowned down at it. “What about Maeda’s SMG?”

“If you want to clean it off and strip his body for ammo, sure! Go ahead! Excuse me if I don’t feel like patting down a dead friend.”

Titus looked at the wreckage and corpses in the corner of the garage and frowned again. “Fair enough.” He looked to Arthur and Sylvia, who were watching them bicker, a smile on Arthur’s face and a look of concern on Sylvia’s.

“You two ready to go?”

“Assuming you’re not about to kill each other, yes.” Arthur grinned as he racked the slide of his SMG, sending a casing clattering to the floor.

“Yeah well, this is going to be awkward.” Atlanta’s voice drifted over from the direction of the door that led further into the facility.

A red light bathed the door in an eerie crimson glow, and a small box and slit to the side of the door requested an ID card to unlock the door. Atlanta took a knee and looked at the box, wondering if she could bypass it somehow, until the answer came to her in the form of Titus shoving her out the way and firing his pistol into the device.

“That’s my damn ID card! Open up!”

Atlanta was moments from laughing at her brother when, to everybody’s surprise, the door slid open with a squeal of stressed metal.

A figure stepped out of the doorway, hands raised in the air; she spotted the team and turned her back to them, slowly falling to her knees. Snapping out of her confused stupor, Atlanta snapped her gun up and aimed it at the woman, taking note of the white coat and holstered weapon.

Titus and Arthur moved to flank the woman, each aiming their weapons at her, while Sylvia crouched in the doorway the scientist had entered from, watching the shady corridor beyond.

“Ma’am, take the weapon out of its holster and lay it on the floor.” Atlanta ordered, slowly inching her way towards the woman.

The scientist swept aside the long lab coat and pulled a strange, long-barreled weapon from a holster at her hip, she lay it gently on the floor, where it was swiftly snapped up by Titus. The scientist looked up at Arthur and blinked, twin eyelids flicking across her alien eyes.

“If you’re going to kill me, do it sooner rather than later, I’d rather not dwell on what I've done.” The hybrid’s voice bore traces of a Germanic accent, rarely seen in a city of one language, but not unheard of.

“Why? What have you done?” Atlanta asked, all the while keeping the barrel of her SMG trained on the back of the scientist’s head.

The hybrid took in a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “I created the psionic helmets those beasts wear, the only thing keeping them under control.”

“You mean those tin-foil hats?” Titus asked, examining the strange weapon he had acquired.

The hybrid snapped her head around to glare at the big man. “That’s a crude way of putting it, but yes.” She sighed again.

“Look, all I wanted was a lab, I wanted a lab so I could do something greater with my life than being remembered as the person who created the most destructive weapon in human history.”

Arthur’s mouth dropped open, and he slowly lowered his gun as he took a step closer to the hybrid. “You’re Dr Bezial? Inventor of the Nova bomb?”

“You’ve just proved my point.” Bezial laughed bitterly, lowering her hands and rubbing her sore shoulders.

A flash of green and a shriek of pain drew the team’s attention to the doorway that Sylvia stood in, the barrel of her exotic weapon glowing red with heat. Without looking away, she spoke.

“Chryssalid, there’s still a few of them somewhere down this corridor.”

“They’ll keep coming, there’s hundreds of them in cryo-stasis, and that doesn’t include the ones launched into the city. But, there’s a way you can stop this.” Bezial cautiously got to her feet.

“That ‘gun’ you’re holding is a modified psionic amp. When activated, it should act as a null ray, preventing the use of psionic abilities in the target.”

Titus pointed his lawpistol at Bezial until she sank to her knees again. “So this thing is like a portable untouchable?”

“Is that what you wanted to make?” Atlanta asked, as she backed up to the doorway to join Sylvia in watching the hallway.

“No, I made a nano-medkit that should work at triple the efficiency of those nanotech models, it’s in my quarters.”

“Why would you tell us this?” Arthur asked, puzzled.

“Because I don’t want to look like a complete monster.”

“Then you had better fucking book it.”

All heads in the room turned to Sylvia, who kept scanning the corridor, ignoring the looks she was given. “I mean it, get up, get out of here and take your design to Nanotech.”

“But I…”

Titus grabbed Bezial by the arm and pulled her to her feet, before he pushed her in the direction of a hoverbike rack in the corner that had somehow survived the battle. “Tell no-one we found you, tell no-one you worked here, and for the love of god tell no-one we let you go.”

Bezial looked at the man in a daze for a moment, before she ran to the hoverbike rack, leaping aboard the nearest one and activating the engines. As she rose above the floor, she looked at the team again.

“Find Irilka, hit him with that gun and shut down the psionic network guiding the creatures.” With those final words said, she took off and up the landing tube, zipping out the building and out of danger.

In the silence that followed Bezial’s departure, the clatter and clank of ventilation systems filled the air and set the team’s nerves on edge. Without a word, they clustered around the now-open doorway and set off, Arthur and Titus checking the open doors down the corridor.

“That’s either going to come around and bite us in the ass, or it’s going to be one of those things where if we hadn’t done it we’d be dead.” Arthur muttered, flicking the torch on his shoulder on and sweeping a small dorm with shattered lights.

“If it does come round and bite us, just remember it was a spur of the moment thing; besides, I don’t have any cuffs left and I’m not going to just shoot her.” Atlanta replied.

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions…” Sylvia added.

Titus opened his mouth to add to the conversation, but was interrupted by the ceiling above him collapsing in a rain of tiles and mortar. Atlanta, on reflex, leant away from the sudden barrage of rubble and collapsed backwards onto Sylvia.

Arthur turned to look at the source of the chaos and was pounced upon from behind, Chryssalid hissing as it flailed at him.
Pinned under Atlanta, Sylvia lay on her back and awkwardly raised her plasma pistol at Arthur. A flash of green followed and the bolt of volatile energy scored a trench into Arthur’s cheek before it splashed across the Chryssalid’s face.

Titus pushed the rubble off of him and tried to get up, only to have another Chryssalid clamber out of the ventilation shaft in the wrecked ceiling and leap down, straddling his body and brandishing its claws menacingly.

Titus immediately raised his lawpistol and unloaded the clip. The Chryssalid’s mandibles opened in a freakish imitation of a grin as the shots ricocheted off of its chitin. Titus raised the weapon he had taken from Bezial and pulled the trigger, hoping it would work.

There was no immediate response to the firing of the weapon, just a small light on the device lighting up; but the Chryssalid paused and stood still, shaking its head and clawing at the wire-frame helmet wrapped around its head. Atlanta tore into the dazed creature with her SMG until it fell in two parts, the barrage of shots enough to tear the creature’s thorax from its legs.

Scrambling to a ready position the team trained their weapons on every possible angle of assault and froze, waiting.

One minute passed, the ‘tick-ticking’ sound of claws on metal could be heard in the ceiling.

Two minutes, the ‘ticking’ could still be heard, this time rapidly moving away from the corridor through the vents.

Three minutes, silence.

“Okay, go! Move to the next door!” Atlanta’s words spurred the team into immediate action, and all four of them sprinted down to corridor, ignoring the dorms and labs on either side.

Arthur and Titus stopped several feet from the door and turned to face the corridor, dropping to one knee and raising their weapons in practiced synchronicity. Atlanta and Sylvia pressed up against the door and checked their weapons.

One hand on her pistol, Sylvia hovered a finger over the door control and caught Atlanta’s eye; she nodded a go and Sylvia hit the switch, the pair slipping smoothly into the room with their weapons raised.

The room they now stood in was tall and dark, a wall of screens filled with static covered the far wall, and several rows of computers lay between the screens and the door. Arthur and Titus backed through the door and closed it as they stepped inside.

Sylvia made a beeline for one of the computers and tapped at the keyboard, waking it up.

“What is this room?”

“Some kind of control room, I guess.”

“Spot on Titus, this isn’t the first Parasol facility I’ve infiltrated; they always build them with the same layout. Below us and accessed by that elevator way back at the other end of the facility will be the main storage areas, as well as generators and an armoury.”

With practiced hands, Sylvia tore through layers of security and brought up several camera feeds. The first she pulled up showed a pair of elevator doors from behind a barricade of crates, lines of men with weapons trained behind them. Sylvia cycled through several more that covered an immense cavern of man-sized cylinders; each one with a twitching Chryssalid sleeping inside.

The last camera she cycled through before the feed flicked back to the first set of elevator doors showed a room with a single large cryo-tube inside; a single man stood next to a wrong-looking Chryssalid with his eyes closed, wearing a helmet that resembled those attached to the Chryssalids.

“Found you.” Sylvia muttered triumphantly, pulling a microphone towards her and activating the intercom systems.

“Dr Irilka, I find your security to be a little lacking.” Sylvia’s voice boomed through the facility, drawing eyes upwards and snapping Dr Irilka out of his meditative state.

“I mean, it’s touching and all that you’ve got your family members as passwords, but it’s a fairly rookie mistake.”

Sylvia’s face broke into a wicked grin as she accessed one system on the computer.

“And… well, if you’re going to put a system like this onto this system, then you really should protect it better.”

Sylvia hit one final command and a timer appeared on the screen in front of her, counting down from five minutes. All of the lights in the facility turned on and were soon accompanied by the red glow of emergency lights as each door slid open. All throughout the facility, spinning yellow lights deployed from the ceilings began to flash, and an alarm began to buzz.

“Sylvia what did you-“

“Warning! Warning! The self-destruct sequence has been activated! This sequence cannot be averted! This facility will self-destruct sequentially in T-minus five minutes!”

In the camera feed, Dr Irilka silently roared at the camera, the monstrous Chryssalid by his side mimicking his actions. In the control room, the door shuddered in its hinges as something slammed into it from the other side.

Titus calmly toggled the door control and pointed Bezial’s weapon at the Chryssalid it revealed, stunning it in the same manner as before. He pressed his lawpistol in between the creatures mandibles and sent a bullet through the roof of its mouth and into its brainpan.

Sylvia shattered the computer screen with an elbow and got to her feet. “Wish my son was here… could use his abilities right now.”

“Eh?”

“He’s null-psy, plus he works for the Krimson Guard; I taught him well.”

Titus glanced over his shoulder at the trio standing by the computers and whistled. “Oi! Come on, that’s touching and all but we’ve got to leave!”

The team of four ran out of the room and sprinted back down the long corridor back towards the garage while the mechanical voice of the intercom counted down the self-destruct clock.

“Sylvia! Is there any way that Irilka can get away?”

“I don’t believe so!”

“Good!”

Atlanta cut ahead of her brother and ran out into the hangar, dashing for the radio console Arthur had used earlier. She all but skidded on the floor as she grabbed a hold of it and started transmitting.

“Brad Brad Brad! This is Collins! We need an immediate pickup!”

She released the transmit button and waited for a response.

Static hissed out of the console.

“Brad Brad Brad! This is Collins! We need immediate pickup! The facility is…”

“T-minus two minutes to detonation.”

“… two minutes from detonation!”

More static.

“Jesus Christ! Anyone on this frequency! Pick us the fuck up!”

The door leading to the cargo elevator burst open and a Chryssalid leapt out, only to walk into a solid wall of bullets and plasma, where it swiftly met its end.

The whine of grav engines could be heard from one of the landing tubes and slowly grew in intensity as something descended.

The wall around the door to the elevator shuddered and cracked as something large slammed into it. Atlanta grabbed her weapon and leveled it at the door, spying the black legs of something moving rapidly through the door.

The wall shuddered and cracked further, a large hand with monstrous claws bursting through. With a feral scream of victory, the enormous Chryssalid from the camera feed knocked down the wall and stooped into the hangar.

It was different from the other Chryssalids, larger and stronger. It walked on four scythe-like limbs and its head moved in liquid motions on the end of a snake-like neck. The Alpha-Chryssalid spread its five-fingered hands and roared at the ceiling, before it snapped its attention to the nearest human and started to break into a run.

As bullets and plasma alike were brushed off by the Alpha-Chryssalid, the engine noise grew to a crescendo and the source made itself visible. The vast shape of a Valkyrie fighter, painted red and covered with markings not seen for twenty years.

The Alpha-Chryssalid stopped in its tracks, confused by the sudden appearance of the colourful craft. The pilot of the Valkyrie wasted no time in opening up on it, the laser cannons slung under the wings pumping shot after shot at the creature, driving it back by sheer force of fire. The barrage stopped when the Alpha-Chryssalid was pressed up against the wall by the hail of laser shots and the laser cannons slid smoothly upwards into their housing, before a single missile dropped out of the belly of the craft and ignited mere feet from the floor, slamming into the creature and blasting it out of view.

The Valkyrie turned to face away from the team and started backing towards them, a ramp in its back opening to reveal a tall man in a servo harness beckoning towards them. The Assault Team piled on and Sylvia followed, grabbing the man’s arm to keep her balance as the Valkyrie flared its thrusters.

The man hit a control on his harness and the ramp closed, he hit another switch and spoke aloud.

“Get us out of here Mkoll.”

Unseen by the team in the sealed troop compartment, the Valkyrie turned and entered the boarding tube, the smooth metal walls sliding by before the Valkyrie leapt into the open air above Mega-Primus.

Atlanta paused a moment to catch her breath, before she walked up to the man and grabbed his hand. “Hey, thanks, that was pretty damn close.”

The old man smiled. “You’re telling me! Collins right?”

“Yeah.”

“Otto Xander, XCOM initiative.”

Titus leaned forward. “XCOM? You guys are still around?”

Xander smiled. “Aren’t you glad we are? We’re not much, but we’re still about. Hold on.”

Xander turned away and activated the radio on his harness again. “What’s the situation on the ground, Steel?”

The tinny voice of Chief Steel came out of the intercom of the ship as Xander quickly shunted the receiving channel to the intercom frequency.

“It’s looking good for the moment, we’ve got most areas cleaned up. It was looking hairy around Dublin Block for a while, but there’s a library and a PMC nearby… uh, the Krimson Guard. I’ve pushed up to the block with them and we’re about to clear the pod that landed in it. Over.”

“I picked up your assault team, and new orders for them?”

“Get home, get safe, I’ll see them back at the precinct.”

“Copy that, Xander out.” Xander turned back to the team. “Well, you heard your boss, we-“

An immense explosion shook the Valkyrie, and the fighter was picked up and thrown about by the overpressure wave as the NutriVend offices and the hidden Parasol facility vanished in the a small nuclear explosion.

“EMP’s knocked out stabilisers… the Pegasus is sputtering… thrusters cut out… ailerons gone… Hold on, I’m going to try to pancake us in.” The voice of the pilot came over the intercom, breathing heavy as he fought the controls of his fighter.
Each person in the troop compartment found a seat and pulled the restraints down over themselves as the Valkyrie smashed through an advertising billboard on its downward spiral towards the ground.

***

The first Chryssalid that wandered into Rook’s line of sight was wounded and limping, its claws stained with fresh blood. Conscious of his lack of actual weaponry, Rook pushed himself into the tangle of pipes and wires that lined this particular maintenance corridor; a quick glance around him indicated the ponies he was with had done the same.

Slowly. Ever so slowly; the Chryssalid wandered past, feet clicking on the metal decking as it went off on its own agenda. Up close, and without the distortion of a fuzzy helmet camera, Rook could see that the creature was wearing something odd on its head; like a helmet made of wire wrapped around its head.

As it walked past him, Rook looked up above the Chryssalid to see Edgedancer directly above it, straddling two pipes with her wings out for balance. She looked to him and gestured towards the creature, as if she wanted to go in and go for it.

Rook held up a single finger and slowly drew his plasma knife, closing his eyes and biting his lip at the subtle scrape of metal on metal. The knife came out of its sheath with a tiny ring of metal and he raised three fingers, dropping them one by one.

Three.

Two.

One.

Rook pumped his fist and Edgedancer dropped down directly onto the Chryssalid, taking it by surprise and knocking it off balance. Rook used the cables he was pressed against like a springboard in the low gravity and flung himself at the creature, knife held straight out.

The un-energized blade did little more than score the chitin, but now Rook was close enough that he was sure he wouldn’t hit Edgedancer. He ran his thumb over the hilt and toggled the hilt. The knife exploded into life with a bright green flash, and he quickly plunged it into the Chryssalid’s chest. It sank in up to the haft, and Rook twisted it with all his might, throwing his body weight backwards to avoid a desperate slash from the creature’s claws.

Something else hit the Chryssalid from the side, and Stormchaser shoved his hoof into the mouth of the creature. Confused, the Chryssalid closed its mandibles around Stormchaser’s hoof, only to have the back of its head burst open as he fired the pistol mounted on his foreleg.

The shot came out of the back of the creature’s head with enough force to crack one of the coolant pipes behind it, and the broken vessel began oozing fluorescent green fluid. Edgedancer fluttered her wings and lightly leapt off the Chryssalid’s corpse as Rook pulled his plasma knife from its chest. Grimacing, Stormchaser wiped his hoof on the floor and shook it, trying to get rid of the foul-smelling goo from its mouth.

“Good work, we’ll make XCOM troops out of you yet.” Rook said, wiping his blade off as he pulled a radio out of his pocket.
“Rook to all aboard, we’ve got one, repeat one Chryssalid down.”

The radio hissed and spat static for a moment before Washburn’s voice came out of the radio, broken by an occasional clang of metal and shriek of fear. “We’ve got one outside the lab, I don’t think it can get in, but it’s doing a real number on the door.”

“Copy that, think you’ll be alright long enough for us to swing by the hangar first?” Rook asked, pulling a small data pad out of a pouch on his thigh; he pulled up ship schematics. “We’re in… maintenance 31b.”

“Err… 31b… 31b… ah; sure, I might be able to get it if it breaks in anyhow.”

“Copy that, over and out.” Rook slipped the radio back into his pocket and turned back to the corridor, watching with pride as his team slipped into view from their hiding places. Grinning, he jerked his head backwards as he started to jog backwards.

“Alright, let’s go find us some Thunderbolts.”

***

Spitfire narrowed her eyes at the open space beyond the hangar doors and raised her pistol, scanning the darkness for what she thought she saw.

‘Was that a Chryssalid? Or just a trick of the light? Rook’s team?’

“Hey Lancaster, look alive, I think I’ve got something here.” She said, calling to her wingman.

Lancaster sat up sharply, clambering off the box of ammo he had decided to take a nap on and groggily stumbling over to Spitfire. “Ssup?”

Spitfire glared at Lancaster until he stood up straight and drew his pistol. “Right ma’am, sorry.”

“Just don’t get yourself killed because you didn’t have your coffee in the morning, it ain’t worth it.”

Spitfire’s radio chirped and she pulled it out, fumbling with her off hand as she attempted to keep her pistol trained on the open doorway.

“Spitfire? Hurricane here, Mustang thinks he’s seen something coming from the maintenance corridor. Want me to join him?”
“No, you need to stay on the arterial doors, see if you can get one of the civilian combatants to check it.”

“Sure; hey Spanner! Got a job for ya…” Hurricane’s voice faded as he turned away from his radio to call out at his end of the hangar.

Spitfire glanced over her shoulder at where the rest of her flight was posted. If she squinted she could just about make out the silhouette of Hurricane, hand cupped to his mouth and calling to someone.

“Shit! Spitfire!”

Lancaster’s panicked voice made her snap her head back round to the entrance she was guarding. She saw nothing, and was about ask Lancaster what he was on about when she heard it too: The clicking sound of something walking on the metal decking.

If sounded like multiple sets of feet, as if something was walking down the corridor on four legs. Remembering the horrors of the Parasol Chryssalids, Spitfire tightened her grip on her pistol and swallowed.

The sound got louder and closer and Spitfire’s nerves began to fray, her hand shaking on the trigger and beads of sweat appearing on her forehead.

*Bang!*

“Fuck!”

Rook fell to one knee, the narrow hole in his shoulder leaking blood at a steady rate. Bellerophon and Cloudbreaker leapt in front of him and raised their weapons at the offender, who quickly lowered her pistol and ran over.

“Shit! Rook! I thought you were a-“

“Oh yeah, no worries, I get that all the time.” Rook groaned, clutching at the wound. “Are you colour-blind or something? Last I saw Chryssalids weren’t wearing red.”

“Sorry, I-“

“Spitfire! What’s going on down there?” Spitfire’s radio shouted; Hurricane’s concerned voice audible to all.

Windrunner snapped around, glaring at the darkness behind them. “What was that?”

“Spitfire, give me your gun.” Rook spat, holding out his hand and looking over his shoulder.

Spitfire handed the red-armoured soldier her lawpistol and stepped back, pulling Rook into the relative safety of the hangar, illuminated by the powerful spotlights of the ships that still occupied the cavernous room.

The deck shook as something large took a heavy step towards them, and Rook raised the gun higher, aiming at a height comparable to a Megaspawn. Another heavy step, this time accompanied by a whine that spoke of machinery whirring.
“Please don’t be a robo-‘nid.” Lancaster muttered.

“Hurricane! I need you!” Spitfire called out across the hangar, running towards the cluster of people and ships.
“I’m on my way!” Hurricane’s voice came out of the radio at Spitfire’s hip as she took a running jump at her Lightning, grabbing onto the handholds outside the cockpit with the tips of her fingers.

Another thunderous step echoed through the hangar before the rhythm broke, the steady footsteps coming to a halt. Rook ushered his squad into the hangar and slowly limped over to the small pile of boxes set up by the ships.

In the corridor, a light flickered on. Then another. The two more, until four blazing white eyes were surveying the humans and the ponies from the height of a tank. The four lights lifted and dropped with a jolt with the sound of another thunderous footstep. A long white leg came into view, made of exotic metal; large metal toes glinted in the glow of the spotlights before they slammed into the deck, denting it.

Rook snapped off a shot, aiming for a spot between the lights, only to see a flash of sparks as the shot bounced off something metallic hidden between the bright lights. The machine took another step forward and its other leg, along with its nose came into view.

Tall and hunched, standing on two legs with a beaklike hull suspended between them; the four lights lit up with a red glow and spat a slew of lasers at the people and ponies opposing it. Rook dived for cover as the crate of ammunition he was hiding behind exploded in a flash of red and green, the plasma cells inside no match for the high-yield lasers.

Looking up at the device, Rook could see that a crude cockpit had been attached to the hull, and behind the plastic and glass, a scarred and burnt hybrid sat in the seat, hands flying over the controls. The pilot thumbed a button on a control stick in the cockpit and the lights spat lasers again, this time aiming for Edgedancer, who had taken to the air and was dive-bombing the machine, scoring its armour with her wing-blades.

The four bolts missed and sailed off into the distance, a hiss of hot metal from somewhere above indicating they’d hit the ceiling. Windrunner lived up to his name, running towards one of the stationary ships and leaping onto its wing, using it like a diving board to leap onto the machine. Pressing a hoof against the cockpit, Windrunner fired his pistol, only to have the shot zip away with a flash of sparks; the pilot inside raised a compact laser pistol and fired, the bolt travelling through the transparent cockpit with ease and striking the pegasus in the face.

As Windrunner limply slid off the machine, a Lightning on the other side of the hangar lit up and lifted off the deck with a roar of engines. This distracted the pilot long enough for Rook to dash underneath the machine and duck between its legs, scooping up Windrunner as he went, wincing as the strain tugged on his shoulder.

Looking up at the belly of the machine, Rook saw the remains of old chalk and pen markings on the underside of the hull: ‘Sectopod 05, recovered from Ethereal Battleship, January 21st, 2002.’

“It’s a bloody Sectopod!” Rook called out, looking at Lancaster and ignoring the blank looks the Equestrians gave him.

“What? That’s impossible! They’re machines!”

Rook stayed on his toes behind the machine, ready to move either way if it turned for him. “The cockpit’s basically welded on! Look at it! A sneeze would dislodge it!”

“That’s as well as may be, but it’s more than enough to kill you all.” The deafening voice boomed out of the Sectopod as it spat another flurry of lasers, this time aiming for the rapidly approaching Lightning.

“Alright listen up! My name is Commander O’Nayl of the Equestrian XCOM Initiative! This is your only chance! Power down and surrender now! Or die!”

“O’Nayl? Sylvia’s boy? Oh this is going to be good.” A rapid series of clicks announced the arrival of a pair of Chryssalids behind Rook. “I hope you all play nice!” The hybrid cackled madly before firing at the Lightning again.

Rook got to his feet and stood over the prone form of Windrunner, pulling his knife from its sheath and aiming the pistol at the approaching Chryssalids. “Come on then, come and have a go!”

The first Chryssalid to take him up on the offer was driven back by a series of light shots from Spitfire’s pistol, while the second received a flurry of curses and the empty pistol hurled at it. The Chryssalids paused for a moment, until they both advanced as if under unspoken command.

“Yaaaaaah!”

Out of the black, leaping from the shadows of the corridor, Washburne clocked one of the Chryssalids with the butt of his shotgun, before blasting the other off its feet with a powerful spray of buckshot.

With the first Chryssalid reeling, Edgedancer saw an opening, and after looping upwards to build some speed, she swooped past at in a flash of blue and white.

The Chryssalid’s head fell to the deck with a thud.

As its companion’s body crumpled in front of it, the other Chryssalid scrambled and scrabbled to get away on all fours. Washburne chased it down and planted his boot in the small of its back, forcing its face into the deck. He lowered his shotgun and pressed it against the back of the creature’s head.

As the sound of Washburne’s second shot faded, the Lightning engaged the hybrid in the modified Sectopod in the most unlikely of ground attacks. Exchanging laser bolts, the Lightning managed to turn one of the Sectopod’s knee joints into a solid block of molten metal.

Then the Lightning’s wing flew off in a storm of metal and flame.

Spiralling out of control, Spitfire fought with the control stick desperately, before she saw the grey expanse of the exterior hangar doors fill her vision and she hit the eject button.

The sealed cockpit was flung up and away, smashing into the ceiling with crushing force as the Lightning tore through the hangar bay doors. Blast shields in the ceiling began to lower to cover the hole, but air was rushing out of the hangar at a terrifying rate. Crates and smaller ships were lifted off the deck and hurled into space as the powerless MacArthur began to list.

The Sectopod’s ‘toes’ dug into the deck and held it in place as it pushed its hull around to face Rook, Windrunner and Washburne. Rook stood determinedly in front of Windrunner, shielding him as Washburne began to feel his feet slipping across the deck.

Rook stared at the hybrid in the cockpit as the four lights began to light up with a red glow. He glanced back at Windrunner’s motionless body and watched his barrel lift up and down, just alive. Rook stubbornly held his ground and turned to face the towering Sectopod.

The barrage of lasers hit Rook like a thousand sledgehammers, and he screamed in pain as the scorching bolts burrowed through his red armour and melted his skin. His armour fell apart and slipped off him like a funeral shroud, and he heard someone yell his name as his hair set on fire.

“No!” Bezial cried as she ran into the hangar, seeing the chaos that was still unfolding. The blast doors had finally covered the gaping hole in the hangar bay doors, but not before a few unfortunate souls were sucked out and into the black.

Bezial’s eyes fell upon the Sectopod, and the hybrid in the cockpit met her eyes with his own. “You.” She hissed, glaring at Dr Irilka.

Dr Irilka opened his scarred slit of a mouth to reply but suddenly found himself immobilised. He tried to fire his weapons, but his hands were as stiff as his mouth, even his eyes were stuck, locked with the deep pools of black of his fellow hybrid.

“Washburne, climb up onto the machine and kill that sonofabitch.” Bezial ground out, blood running from her nose as she focussed her psionics to keep Irilka from killing her.

Washburne leapt into action as Lancaster’s radio began to chirp shrilly.

“Lancaster, you can’t help here but you have to get to the reactor! We need engines or we’re going to crash headfirst into the surface!”

“Evans? But what if-“

“Fucking hell! Man up you spineless twat!”

Lancaster cursed and looked over the rim of the crates he was hiding behind, looking at the slumped form of Rook in the shadow of the immobilised Sectopod. He got up and vaulted the stack, legs pumping and boots clattering against the deck as he ran past the duel into the darkness beyond.

Washburne took a running jump and managed to grab the rim of the added-on cockpit; using the melted knee joint as a foothold, he pulled himself up and level with Irilka. Washburne pressed the barrel of his shotgun against the glass of the cockpit in the same manner that Windrunner had…

But his shotgun beat Windrunner’s pistol.

The glass of the cockpit shattered and fell inward on the paralyzed Irilka, and the determined marine fired his shotgun again, the spray of metal tearing into the hybrid. Frozen and helpless, unable to even scream, Dr Irilka bled out in the cockpit of his own wretched machine.

***

“Oh my god!”

“I see it Lancaster, the hell is that thing?”

A monstrous armoured form lay still in the reactor room, a wire-frame helm wrapped around its head, and several metal plates bolted to its body in places not covered by chitin. Under one of its razor sharp legs lay the unfortunate form of Chief Engineer Fergus, chest pierced and heart shredded by the creature.

A sudden change in gravity began to pull Lancaster away from the reactor and towards the door. Realising they were falling into the influence of Equestria’s gravity, Lancaster pushed himself forwards, arms outstretched and reaching for the reactor console. He reached it and clung onto it like a man clutching to a life raft.

“Ok, I’m at the console, what now?”

Evans guided him through the reboot sequence with an edge of panic in her voice.

“Find the main console, then press and hold the x key on the keyboard for ten seconds, it’s a hardwired sequence on every system, reboots the computers.”

“Okay…” Lancaster found the most likely keyboard and followed Evans’ instructions. After what seemed like a minute of holding the key, the reactor groaned and grumbled as powerfuel began to flow into the fusion chamber.

“Perfect! Sorry I called you a twat.”

“All personnel grab onto something! Engines igniting in three! Two! One!”

The entire ship lurched and shook as the heavy engine cowlings at the rear of the ship spouted fire and force, brutally halting the MacArthur’s terminal plummet in atmosphere. With artificial gravity conflicting with Equestrian gravity, it felt like Lancaster’s legs were going to be torn off; but as the MacArthur levelled out into horizontal flight, the pressure eased and he could stand normally.

Lancaster took one last look at the still forms of the Chryssalid and the Chief Engineer before he ran out of the room and towards the med lab.

***

“Rook! Rook! Can you hear me?”

Rook was on his knees, facing the dead form of the pilotable Sectopod with his head slumped and arms limp. At the sound of Washburne’s voice he looked up, the burnt skin on his neck cracking and splitting.

“Rook you mad bastard! Why’d you do that?”

Rook coughed, and sucked in a wheezing breath. “Seven years *gasp* in a Private Millitary Corporation, *gasp the Krimson Guard *gasp* with a ‘K’ coz’ we were *gasp* hip and trendy; hehe. *gasp* I’m a goddamn defender.”

As the last of the adrenaline in Rook’s system wore off, his eyes rolled upwards into his head and he fell forwards, Washburne catching him before his face slammed into the deck.

The sound of rapid footsteps announced the arrival of Lancaster with a medkit in each hand; he skidded to a halt next to Rook and handed one medkit to Bezial before running off to check on Spitfire’s escape pod, lying in a pile of wreckage that was once a autotrans.

The heavy blast door slowly lifted back up as the outer doors slid open, letting in the bulky shape of the Skyranger, Mercury. Behind the great dropship flew the forms of Celestia and Bauxite, who were flanked by several members of the Sky Guard.
The Skyranger swung round and dropped its ramp. Face a picture of rage, Jester leapt off the ramp before it even graced the deck. “What in the blue hell happened up here!?”

***

“I’ll give you this Mkoll, that was a deceptively smooth landing; kudos to you.” Xander said calmly as he lifted his friend out of the crushed cockpit.

Mkoll’s mechanical leg dropped to the ground with a loud clang that was suddenly mirrored by Atlanta as she dragged her way out of the troop compartment. Titus hefted Arthur onto his shoulders and hefted him out of the Valkyrie; while Sylvia lay against the edge of the rood they had landed on, holding her head and trying to regain her senses.

“Look down there.” Sylvia said, pointing off the edge of the roof at the street below.

Xander peered over the lip and looked at the apocalyptic scene: Crashed cars and corpses, both human and Chryssalid lined the street. The only sign of life in the street below was a ring of Chryssalid corpses that was growing every second, as two cloaked figures standing back-to-back held off a horde of Chryssalids with a two-handed sabre and a longsword.

“Ha! Librarians at work! Keep it up fellas!” Xander called over the edge, waving a hand.

The sabre-armed Librarian looked up at him and gave him a cheery salute, casually decapitating a Chryssalid with a backswing.

“I’m cringing at every Krimson Guard body I see… I need to get home.” Sylvia sighed, anxiously scanning the streets.

Atlanta stepped up to Sylvia and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, keeping her lifeless mechanical one behind her back. “Well, we’ve got to get off this rood first; where are we Commander?”

“Err…”

“We’re on top of the Dublin Block, see, there’s the sensovision tower across the street.” Mkoll answered.

“What!?” Sylvia cried, leaping to her feet and looking at the indicated tower. “Oh my god, I need to get to my apartment!”
Sylvia sprinted towards the stairwell to get down into the block as the survivors of the M.E.A.T. got to their feet and slowly followed her. Xander and Mkoll shared a look, then shrugged and followed them.

Behind them, the Valkyrie slowly burned, a pillar of smoke reaching into the polluted sky. A beacon of flame among the dozens of others that slowly turned the sky into an expanse of brown and black.

Comments

[Crimson ONayl]

So this took far too long to get out. I went through so many rewrites before I finally settled on this, I actually had the chapter fully finished more than once before I decided I wasn't happy and binned it.

Google Chrome is a jackass and keeps putting everything in American (No Google, it's 'armoury', not 'armory'. Same thing with 'colourful', it's not 'colorful'. 'Kay Google?) so I typically ignore a lot of the auto-correct that Chrome puts on my work, I have gone over this chapter with the spell-checker in Microsoft Word but that has been known to fail occasionally.

Also, I'm concerned that some people might see the title as 'I unno at the moment' because I derped and published it like that for a few seconds before I realized my mistake and switched it back; you see, my naming method for titles revolves around the events of the chapter, and even though I have a story arc planned out, I don't really know what's going to happen in each chapter until it does.

I decided to experiment with some simple sentences in the action-heavy parts after showing a friend of mine a little short I cooked up in an hour (Not related to XCOM Equestria) and he said it was pretty good, but the action parts seemed a little slow, and he thought that could be improved by using a few more simple sentences.

One comment = One Brohoof! Feedback is good!

[link01742]

Brohoof

[Crimson ONayl]

2193272 (\ As promised sir, one complimentary brohoof! Don't spend it all at once! Wait...

[Aatxe360]

Glad to see you're still on this project. I had been wondering and all...

[Crimson ONayl]

2198144 (\
Yeah I know, I've been pretty terrible... but! There is a short story behind it if you're willing to read

So way back when 'Spike at Your Service' came out I kinda ran out of free time, and only caught up with the season finale last monday; despite my best efforts to avoid spoilers, I did get wind of hte whole 'Alicorn Twilight' buisness and suddenly became scared of writing. I didn't want to go completely alternate universe so I looked like I was trying to deny the entire season ending, but I was worried that the changes would mess up my story.
Fortunately, as is so often does, the solution came to me when I couldn't sleep one night, and I now have a plot that will encompass the ending in a alternate universe style.

You made it through the dreaded wall of text! Here, have a Fluttershy!

[sgtnolisten]

The second half confused the hell out of me. Are we still in flashback, or...?

[Aatxe360]

2198536

/poke

Just curious if you're still working on this fic. Would like to see it updated. Also....you have AJ in the tags, but I haven't seen a lot of AJ at all. Mostly you have flashbacks on the X-COM team which include previous missions.

[Bootsy Slickmane]

This is awesome. I always liked Apocalypse best out of the first three, and I love how you've mixed different things from the series (and in a way that makes sense). I'm definitely looking forward to more. Great work so far, and I can't really think of any complaints.

[StarLoverRainDestroyer]

THIS IS AWESOME I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SUCH A LONG TIME FOR SOME ON TO MAKE A X-COM/MLP STORY

[Mr B]

4005431 Mate if you want xcom and mlp check out "project stardust". this is nice too though

[StarLoverRainDestroyer]

7404424 buddy your a bit late ive already read that story about a month ago.XD

[Mr B]

7404725 Ah well, early bird gets the worm.