The War of Black Days

by TheBrownBrony

First published 29th of September, 2012

Ponies struggle to win a war they never wanted to fight.

The war had been hard on everypony. Most had lost loved ones, many had lost homes, and some had lost everything. Equestria was in hell and if the ponies didn't resist, they died. Without exception. There are precious few ponies left with the spirit to fight, but while they live, while they breath, while they hope, no pony is defeated, and the war rages on. The war of Black Days.

Click

Pinkie settled into her perch, setting up her rifle and scanning the dark moor for movement. The tip of her tail was twitching and her hooves itched. There would be changelings tonight. Her muscles were tense under her pink coat and her back ached abominably. Sleep tugged at her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them close. She had to stay alert, had to keep up the fight, no matter what it cost her. The war had been hard on everypony. Most had lost loved ones, many had lost homes, and some had lost everything. Equestria was in hell and if the ponies didn’t resist, they died, without exception. Everypony had to do their part. Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy- eventually even Pinkie took up arms for her home. She’d had trouble at first, couldn’t stomach the killing and wasn’t good with a gun or a sword. She had no head for the fighting either; once the bullets started flying, she broke. But Pinkie was good for more than just parties. She could find ponies, any ponies, anywhere. And then it was as simple as....

Click, the trigger whispered. Bang, the rifle spoke, she’d worked on instinct, shaken out of her thoughtlessness by the itching in her hooves turning to a sharp pain. She found her next target.. Click, Bang. No more changeling, and once more Click, Bang, no more changeling. Pinkie packed up her rifle with a practiced hoof, making sure each part was comfortably in the case before moving to her next position. Her new assignment may have been ten times easier than her last one, but she wasn’t happy about it. Her last high-profile target had been more than a month ago and covert ops was still flipping coins on who’d be next; meanwhile she’d been assigned to the defense of some farm town outside the capitol and she was getting twitchy. She felt a growl crawl into her throat as she started her ascent to the top of a rock cluster she’d marked as a perch earlier.There was a pony-slaughtering hoard of changelings on the march right now, and she was sitting on a rock, putting bullets in stragglers. She should’ve been taking out captains, generals, the bucking queen; she should’ve been making a difference! She took a deep breath and calmed herself. It wouldn’t be long before command knew where she was going; then she’d feel better. She reached her vantage point and looked out over the craggy moor on the south side of the town, spotting the changelings immediately, working their way over the brush. She set up her rifle and took aim. Click, Boom. Click, Boom. Click, Boom. Three more down, three legions to go, bit her post was safe for now. There would be no more changelings out tonight.It was something she knew, but she refused to let herself become careless. She packed up her rifle and changed positions again, watching the plains for any sign of movement.

The sun was just starting to rise when her radio came alive.

“Pinkie Pie,” the voice was fuzzy and broken, but clearly that of Two Buck, her sergeant, “you’re being relieved. Report back to base. Looks like HQ’s got another job for you.” A smile came on to Pinkie’s face for the first time in ages. Vacation was over.

Base was a rock walled building near the center of the town, two stories high and bristling with defenses. The desk sergeant stopped Pinkie at one hundred feet and ran a scan, making sure she wasn’t a changeling in disguise, then started with the normal run of questions. Security was tight these days, like it should be. Pinkie answered the questions as they came and the desk sergeant waved her in, but Pinkie ignored her, making a point of handing over her IDs and weapons before proceeding. It was her chosen Pattern. With enemies that can change shapes at will and magic to keep ponies from negating that power, a Pattern was important. Patterns were a good defense against infiltration and had stopped many would-be slaughters throughout the war, and everypony had a different pattern they had to do before they would be allowed into any military building, down to the lowest, backwater base.

This one for example. Local dispatch 407, lovingly known as Base, was as barren as the plains outside the town. No more than a handful of ponies were ever there at once, doing paperwork or relaxing on their off-shift. A few half-empty bookshelves took up a corner with old, soft couches set near, but Pinkie hadn’t seen anyone use them since Twilight had visited with Princess Celestia. On the other side of the room were a few cubicles, most containing sleeping ponies, but Pinkie ignored all of these and headed straight for the stairs on the back wall. The second floor was no more impressive than the first, but it was where most of the higher-ups kept offices. She went straight into Two Buck’s.

Two Buck was a grizzled old unicorn and a hard taskmaster, but things ran smoothly under him. He stood behind his desk, a cup of coffee floating next to him and an apple in his mouth, but what interested Pinkie was the sealed envelope splayed in front of him. He took a bite of the apple and nodded to her.

“Pinkie,” he said gruffly, little bits of apple flying out of his mouth.

“Sarge,” Pinkie replied, snapping off a quick salute and stepping nearer to the desk.
“It looks like HQ finally got somethin’ for ya.” Pinkie just nodded, her lips curved into a bitter smile. She hated herself a little, for being excited to kill someone, but it was her only way to make a difference in the war, her only way to keep her friends safe. Two Buck broke into her thoughts.
“I’m not gonna lie, kid. I liked having you here. You’re a damn fine soldier and one of the
best snipers I’ve ever seen. Ain’t no one gonna replace you once you’re gone. You remember that if you get tired of assassining.” Pinkie hated herself a little more for the pride those words instilled in her. ‘You’re a good killer,’ she’d just been told. Why would that make anyone proud? She wouldn’t burden Sarge with her thoughts though. She just said,

“Yessir, Sarge,” as she always did, ducking her head and adding a quiet, “thank you.”

The message had been simple enough, but promised something big. “...too important, must discuss in person...” And Pinkie was on the first train headed home. She was nervous though. Meeting in person was a big deal when it came to her. Usually all she got was a name and they let her do her work; when they had to speak in person....the last time had been the reason for her vacation. In her experience, meeting in person meant a high end target. A general usually, but she’d also been given changeling nobles, weapon caches, and...dangerous traitors. People whom Celestia and the other ponies in command couldn’t publically point to as turncoats for fear that too many ponies would lose heart. The last one had been Soarin.
The wonderbolts had been some of the best troops against the changelings. In the battle of Everfree, the eleven of them had maintained air superiority without any other backup. Nopony thought that any of them would side against equestria, but that’s what happened. Pinkie did her duty, brought Soarin down and made it look like some big accident.. All she’d had had to do was clip his wings and let him drop and suddenly every pony in the country wanted to take up arms in the name of their fallen hero. Pinkie laughed bitterly to herself. Fallen in every way. The train slowed to a halt and Pinkie departed, making her way immediately to HQ and the war room. Celestia was inside, sitting at the head of a table with a large map spread over it. Twilight sat beside her with Cadance and Luna across from them. Cadance wore full black, a sharp contrast with her white fur; Twilight had a more subtle band, like a shadowy scar, wrapped around her left front leg. It was a long mourning period, just like Shining Armor deserved. All of them looked up when Pinkie entered and the room filled with a cold silence.

“Come on, guys,” Pinkie said, forcing a fake smile onto her face, “spirits up. A smile may not be likely to win the war, but no pony can say that it won’t.” Twilight shook her head and looked away, so did Cadance and Luna. Only Celestia could meet Pinkie’s eyes.

“We have your assignment, Pinkie,” Celestia said, quiet despair heavy in her voice. Pinkie dropped the smile and got serious, even as her heart sank.

“Who is it?” She asked, dreading the answer. Celestia dropped a dossier onto the table, pictures spilled out. Mare, roughly her age, blue fur...rainbow mane. Tears welled up in Pinkie’s eyes.

“Dashy?” she choked out. “Do we know why?” Celestia hesitated and looked for some reassurance in the other gathered ponies. She found none.

“She found out about Soarin,” she whispered, “about what he did and...and how he died.” Pinkie swallowed, trying to force the lump in her throat away, but it wouldn’t budge.

“What...” Pinkie took a deep breath, “What did she do? What’s our proof?”

“She killed the rest of the wonderbolts, Pinkie,” Twilight spoke this time, her voice wavering dangerously. “She admitted to it in front of more than a dozen ponies.”

“This is damage control, Pinkie,” Celestia told her. “We can’t let anyone else find out about this.” The room fell silent. An eternity later, Celestia continued.“You can refuse, Pinkie. You have the right.” Pinkie shook her head.

“No, I can’t put this on anypony else.”

“Will you be able to, Pinkie?” Twilight asked. “I know that Soarin was hard for you, will you be able to...” her voice trailed off. She couldn’t say it. Pinkie nodded and forced the words out.

“I can do it. I can kill Rainbow Dash.” She gathered the dossier and left the room; her business there was done. After a couple minutes of slow walking, she heard hoofsteps behind her.

“I’ll be fine, Twilight,” Pinkie said without turning around.

“I don’t know if you can be certain about that, Pinkie,” Twilight said, “Dash isn’t just another pony. You know her; she’s your friend,”

“The wonderbolts were my friends too, Twilight. I know everypony and they’re all my friends. I wouldn’t have any way to help if I couldn’t set that aside. Keeping one friend alive, isn’t worth losing the rest of them.”

“But-”

“No, Twilight, no buts. I’ll do what I have to.” She said no more; Twilight was left alone in the hallway, grieving the loss of two more friends.

Dash was easy to find. She wasn’t trying to hide her presence. She wanted everypony to know that she’d defected, and Pinkie caught up quickly, like she always did. Dash was resting on the top of a mountain. She’d established air superiority for the changelings and now was just sitting back and watching the chaos unfold. Pinkie came up behind her. It wouldn’t have been hard at all to put a bullet in her. It would have been quick and painless, for Dash at least. But Dashy deserved better than that, she deserved a chance. Pinkie sat next to her, evoking a little gasp of astonishment from the pegasus.

“Pinkie Pie? What are you doing here?” Dash asked urgently, fear rooted deeply in her voice.

“Celestia sent me,” Pinkie told her stonily. There was a moment of tense silence, then,

“And?”

“I don’t want to kill you, Dashy,” Pinkie told her.

“Just like you didn’t want to kill Soarin?” Dash’s words came out harsh and bitter. Pinkie just nodded.

“So you’d do it then? You’d kill your best friend because some bitch who happened to be born with both a horn and wings told you to?”

“Not if I don’t have to, Dashy. If you leave, if you hide, if you stay out of the war; I can tell Celestia the job is done. No more ponies have to be hurt, Dashy.” Dash dropped her head with a sad resolution and leapt lightly into the air.

“You have to, Pinkie.” Dash didn’t hurry away. It almost seemed like she wanted Pinkie to shoot her down, wanted all of the pain to end. But Pinkie couldn’t do it, not like that. She watched the pegasus fly away. The battle raging below the mountain suddenly seemed a distant and minor problem.

Three more times, Pinkie caught up with Dash. Three times Pinkie’s rifle remained silent and she left, sadness and guilt weighing her down. Ponies were dying, and those that weren’t were losing heart. They needed a win, something, anything to show them that they still had some power. Pinkie realized this and still she couldn’t bring down her friend. She lacked the resolution. Only at her last battle did she see the full effect of what she’d failed to do.

The changelings had advanced into the heart of Equestria, coming once more to the Everfree forest. The ponies knew what was at stake and fought hard. Pegasi flooded the skies like parasprites, fighting the changelings tooth and hoof, never giving an inch. Pinkie sat in a nest she’d set up on the top of a few trees, covered in camouflage. She watched the skies carefully for Rainbow Dash, hoping to the heavens that her friend wouldn’t show up. She fought while she waited. Click, Boom. Click, Boom. Click, Boom. Click, Boom. Changelings fell from the sky like rain. No bullet wasted. Click, Boom. Click, Boom. Two more ponies saved. Click, Boom. One more friend left alive. Then something happened. The changelings fell to the ground, retreating. The pegasi thought they’d won, but something was wrong. Pinkie’s neck itched, her hooves shook, and her ears fell back. Her eyes came wide with realization. She broke cover, shouting as loud as she could for the pegasi to come down. to abandon the skies before it was too late They couldn’t hear her. She fired shots into the air, trying to get their attention. Then it came. An earth-shaking explosion that nearly took Pinkie from her perch. The pegasi stopped cheering, looking around in confusion. Pinkie looked to the horizon and saw exactly what she knew she would. A rainbow shockwave tearing through the sky like a scythe. The pegasi didn’t have time to react; it overtook them and they fell, every last one of them. Dropping to the ground like hailstones. Some died on impact, they were the lucky ones. There wasn’t a creature left in the sky when the rainboom had passed, but that didn’t last long. The changelings crept out one-by-one from their hiding places, flapping their grotesque, chitonous wings. The tide turned. Changelings tore at the pony ranks from above and blocked any chance of escape. Pinkie couldn’t look away, couldn’t take her eyes off of the carnage. She wasn’t at the top of the mountain this time; every scream every drop of blood was crystal clear to her. She shot like a demon, trying to save her friends, but nothing could help them now. Pinkie had known anger before, and she’d known loss. She’d known pain both physical and emotional. But not until that day, not until she watched loyal ponies trapped and butchered because of her failure to act, had she any notion of hate. The records for the Second battle of Everfree list only one survivor, but Pinkie knew better. No pony came out of something like that alive.

Pinkie abandoned her post that day. She knew Rainbow Dash was out there, and she was going to find her. She followed her instincts, knowing that they would be the best tool in finding Dash. Hours wandered by as she walked, hiding occasionally to avoid Changeling patrols, but never resting. The forest pulled at her from every direction. Her bouncy hair went flat and her coat became dull. She didn’t care. She had other things on her mind. She came to the place just as the sun began to set.

The ruins of Ponyville were no less depressing than the day Pinkie had watched them burn. Twilight’s library was nothing more than a patch of blackened earth. Fluttershy’s cottage was as butchered as the animals she’d harbored. And the bakery was as sullen and unfitting a grave as one could find for the Cakes. Pinkie’s heart grew colder when she spotted Dash, reclining in what remained of the tower that used to be the very top of Pinkie’s own home. The Pegasus was sleeping, her conscience no harder a pillow than ever. Pinkie took the time she wanted to set up, Dash wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon and Pinkie wanted a special party to send her friend out with..

Click, Boom. A shot rang out through the night. The crows that had been nesting in the burned out buildings flew away and Rainbow Dash opened her eyes. She could see nothing.

“Pinkie?” She called out, trying to keep her voice from trembling. “Is that you?” Click, Boom. The shot went straight through the bell to Dash’s left, its calming ring replaced by a piercing shriek. Dash took to the air. “Pinkie, you don’t have to do this. Don’t let Celestia use you, Pinkie!” Another click, but closer this time. A net sprang forth from the darkness, snaring Rainbow Dash like a rabbit in a hunter’s trap. “Pinkie, please! You couldn’t kill me! I’m your friend! You have to feel something! Pinkie!”
Dash was wrong.
The war had been hard on everypony. Most had lost loved ones, many had lost homes, and some had lost everything. Equestria was in hell and if the ponies didn’t resist, they died. Without exception. Click.

Fall of a Shining Star (pt. 1)

It seems like ages ago now, though it’s only been a few months. We thought Equestria had gone to hell right when the Changelings had attacked. We didn’t know what we were in for. No one had expected Rainbow Dash to go rogue and certainly no one had thought it possible that Shining Armor could die. But I saw it happen. I was there on the night the stars fell.

“Cloudchaser, report!” Shining Armor barked.

“No movement, sir! All quiet,” I replied. The general gave a nod and paced off.

“It’s almost like he wants the changelings to come,” Silverspeed sighed.

“I think he does,” I told her. “And I know how he feels.” Silverspeed gave me a quizzical look. I shrugged.

“I feel useless here. I’m a good soldier, but I got stuck in the back. I could be doing something in this war and I’m not. Then there’s Shining Armor, the next best thing to an Alicorn. If he wanted to take on legions of those monsters, I bet he could, and instead he’s as far from the fighting as Celestia could put him while other ponies are out there dying. Imagine how that must feel.” Silverspeed snorted. I took it as assent.

***

That’s pretty much how every day went. Silverspeed and I would sit up on top of our clouds and watch. Waiting for any sign of a Changeling army that would never come. We whittled away our time playing games. Sometimes we’d race. We got secure, not a mistake I’m likely to make twice.

***

“Cloudchaser, slow down!” Silverspeed gasped. She was pushing hard today.

“Sorry, Speedy, but that’s not how races work!” I turned around to look at her. She would gain a little bit this way, but I wasn’t worried about losing. She was already winded, sweat dripping from her nose. Her windswept mane was knotted and whipping around forcefully. The poor thing was exhausted and our set finish line was still a ways away. I turned back around just in time to jerk out of the way of the flying mass of black chiton that had appeared in front of me. The Changeling took Silverspeed instead, forcing her into a deadfall. Droplets of blood lingered in the air for a second, filling the space they’d occupied. I collected myself quickly and dove, catching them mid-fall. Silverspeed was trying to fight back, but, like I said, she was exhausted. The changeling was taking chunks out of her and the best she could do was keep it off of anything vital. I did a quick roll and swept around to take the changeling in the side, throwing it off my friend with all the force I could muster. It hissed in anger, bloody fangs standing out starkly from the black form. Silverspeed was still falling; I knew she wouldn’t be able to recover on her own. But I couldn’t leave an angry changeling at my back. I cursed myself for being too cocky to bring any weapons with me; a lone changeling wouldn’t have been much of a fight at all with my hoof-blades on. I prayed for a miracle and attacked.
I kicked it as hard as I could but I might as well have been kicking stone through that carapace. It struck back, trying to sink its fangs into my wings and drop me. I fought harder. Every second this thing was alive was another second my friend could hit the ground. I pushed away from the Changeling, noticing an eerie silence.
Silence. I couldn’t hear Silverspeed screaming anymore. My blood ignited. I threw a savage kick at its back knee and was greeted with a nauseating crack. It thrust its face next to mine, shrieking, saliva that bore too close of a resemblence to bile flying into my face. I cocked my head back and smashed my forehead into its teeth. It fluttered back, dazed. I took advantage of the opportunity, rosing a little then dropping, ramming my back feet into its head. The carapace shattered, greenish ickor spraying out as it fell. It was dead before it touched the ground. I scanned the area below me as quickly as could, searching for any trace of Silverspeed. I found her as a red spot on the moorish ground. I was at her side in seconds, biting my lip so hard I could hear it crunching. I leaned next to her, and my heart leapt into my throat, hammering out a frantic tattoo. She was breathing, but it was shallow. Someone had heard my prayer, but even so, she was barely alive. I picked her up as gently as I could and carried her back to camp. I’ll never forget that flight. I still see her blood on me when I look in a mirror.
Sentries spotted us a good fifteen minutes before we reached base; Shining Armor was waiting for us at the medical station.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice harsh even as he levitated Silverspeed from my back, carrying her inside as steadily as he could.
“A Changeling scout,” I told him through gulps of air.
“Where?” He whipped his head towards me with a star that could have melted metal.
“Ten clicks south of Cloud 13, sir,” I told him.
“How many?”
“Only one that we encountered, sir.”
“Scouting parties are never that small. Do you think it was a straggler?” The nurses had taken Silverspeed away. More doctors were being called in.
“No, sir, stragglers have never engaged before. This one tried to drop me while my back was turned.” He nodded.
“I’ll send a squad to investigate. Are you hurt?”
“Scrapes and bruises, sir,” I told him.
“Good, then you’ll be their guide. I want any Changelings found and exterminated.”
“Roger that, sir. There won’t be any left when we’re done with ‘em.”
“See to it, Sergeant,” he said, turning away, “dismissed.” I waited in the med-center until the squad arrived. I could still feel the fire in my veins. Those bastards had hurt my friend and I’d had every intention of making them pay for it.

The scouting party found a few other changelings and exterminated them, like we’d been ordered.. Everypony seemed put at ease by that, but I was the only one who was happy. I’ve been told that, when I came back to base that night, covered in grime and gore, I had a smile on my face, a great big one. They were a little frightened, thought I might have lost it. They might’ve been right. Y’see, I wasn’t happy that I’d killed those Changelings, I was happy about what it meant. If they’d been stragglers, it would have meant nothing; they’d be dead and the matter would be over. The war would have been as far away as ever. But that was a scouting party, a real one, and an army couldn’t have been far behind.
***

“Cloudchaser,” Silverspeed said, looking up at me with a smile. Her eyes were bloodshot and she still couldn’t move, but she remembered me today; it was a step.
“I’m here, Speedy. How’re you feeling?”
“Hungry,” she told me earnestly.
“I’ll see if I can get the nurses to bring you something,” I told her quickly, moving towards the door. She stopped me with a little noise of dissent. Words were still hard. I came back to her bedside. There was silence for a moment, me not knowing what to say and her unable. She just looked at me, a small smile playing on her scarred lips. There was a quiet knock at the door and Shining Armor entered.
“How is she?” he asked gently.
“Better,” I replied absently, “better.”
“I need to talk to you about something,” he whispered. A look of confusion came into Silverspeed’s eyes. “Can we go outside?”
Silverspeed made another sound of dissent.
“She wants me to stay here,” I told him. He looked uncertain, a rare occurrence. He looked at Silverspeed, her eyes pleading with him softly not to make me leave. He relented.
“Fine.” There was another pause.
“Sir?” I asked, wondering if he would continue.
“Yes,” a steely look came into his eye. “I need you for a mission. You’re the fastest flyer we have on base right now, and we know that there’s a Changeling army on its way. We need to find it. You’re the only person for the job.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said with no small amount of pride. He looked less pleased.
“We’ve been encountering more scouting parties. You won’t be safe.”
“Sir, I didn’t join the military for the security,” I told him. He nodded.
“Nonetheless, try not to be reckless. We can’t risk soldiers we don’t have.”
“What do you mean, sir?” I asked quizzically.
“We both know this camp wasn’t really meant as a military installation. I’ve sent to Celestia for reinforcements, but I’ve got a bad feeling about the messengers.” I felt my gorge rise. The camp was abuzz with rumors of Shining Armor’s repeated attempts to contact the capital. He’d sent out almost a dozen pegasi. No word had returned. We all hoped they’d just been delayed, but we couldn’t be certain.
“I’ll do my best, sir,” I told him. He nodded and we traded salutes before he left.
“Don’t go,” Silverspeed whispered.
“I’ll be fine,” I told her with a smile, “After all, if I disappeared, who’d be here to bother you?” She didn’t look any less worried. I laid a hoof on her arm, being careful not to apply any pressure.
“Look after Shining Armor ‘til I get back, all right? I think the stress is getting to him.” She nodded and I left the room. I took into the air with a few gentle flaps of my wings, rising as high as I could. I flew far and wide that day, looking for any trace of Changelings. I found a couple of scout parties, making sure to stay out of sight, but the main force eluded me.
‘How could an army hide so well?’ I thought as I flew through a stray cloud. I received no answer.

***

The sun was resting on the horizon, preparing to fall for the night before I started back to camp. I hadn’t realized how far I’d come. There was no way I’d be able to make it back to camp before dark, but I couldn’t say I was afraid, just annoyed. If I couldn’t spot a giant, black army on an orange, craggy moor in the middle of the day, I would never be able to spot it in the night.
The moon had almost reached its zenith before I could see camp again. It was covered in one of Shining Armor’s force-fields. Looked like I was sleeping outside. I found a secluded spot and covered up for the night, planning out my report for Shining Armor as I drifted into Luna’s realm.

The buzzing of Changeling wings woke me. My eyes shot open, but the night was black. I was almost grateful for it. An entire Changeling scouting party hovered around me, only their eyes glowedthrough the dense night, eyes focused entirely on me.

“Little pony, little pony,” one of them hissed, “what are you doing out here?” I’d never heard of a Changeling other than Chrysalis speaking before. Its words came out harsh and strangled. My blood curdled, but the fire hadn’t entirely left it. I stood, shaking ferociously, unable to tell how much of it was fear.
“You’ll get nothing from me,” I told it, teeth clenched to keep from chattering. It didn’t seem to notice I’d spoken.

“Your shield can’t protect you when you’re not inside, you know,” it told me with its sickening voice, “You could be stuck out here. You could be killed.” It stuck its face very close to mine, so close I could make out the faint outline of its head, ghostlike against the night sky. It took a deep breath in and grinned menacingly. “Or worse.” I could feel myself shrink back away from that thought. I didn’t know what could be much worse than being killed, but I didn’t doubt that the Changelings did. I felt the urge to run and scream, to escape; instead, I drew back my hoof and rammed it into the changeling’s snout.

“You don’t scare me,” I spat. My voice was quivering violently; so was the Changeling. A grim grin spread across my face, only to be swept away when I realized that it wasn’t shaking in pain; it was laughing. I’d given it my best punch and that damn thing was laughing at me. I couldn’t let that continue.

“You hear the little pony?” it asked the others, “It is not afraid of us.” The others joined in the laughter. The sound was wrong. No natural creature made a noise like that. The only thing I could relate it to is the cough of a shovel digging into the dirt of a fresh grave.

“That’s right!” I said louder, “I’m not afraid.” The Changelings only laughed louder. I ground my teeth, wishing one of them would come close enough for me to kill.

“Well then,” the speaker came close again, hovering just outside my reach, “why don’t we change that?” Then there was pain. Fangs dug into my flank as chitinous hooves battered me. I threw a kick behind me, sending a Changeling flying. The others didn’t care. Some held me down; some hurt me. None of them could resist taking at least one bite. I screamed and struggled, trying to wrench myself free, but to no avail; I couldn’t escape. I sent a silent apology to Silverspeed for lying. I prayed she would forgive me. I prayed Shining Armor would avenge me. And I prayed that the Changelings would get tired soon and finish me quickly. I didn’t bother praying for a savior.
I got one anyway. Just as my voice gave out, there was a blast of violet light and the Changelings were thrown off of me. I opened my left eye- the right was swollen and crusted shut with blood- right as a white leg stomped down above me.

“What did I say about being careful?” Shining Armor asked. I couldn’t give any reply. The Changeling replied instead.

“Oh look, little pony prince has come to visit. Do we think it is afraid?” The Changelings let out another cascade of hideous laughter.

“I’ll show you fear,” Shining Armor said gravely. His eyes turned as black as the changelings’ hide, made visible only by the violet ring of light around them. The Changelings stopped laughing. Shining Armor smiled and let loose of beam of that same blackness on the nearest changeling. I turned my head just enough to see its head disappear in the blast. The body stood a moment, as if a remnant of the Changeling’s will possessed it. I worried for a moment that it would continue to fight, but that fear was put to rest. It collapsed in a dense heap. The Changelings took to the sky, but none of them survived. I watched in awe as Shining Armor cut them down. I didn’t know such magic even existed. I guess when you stop relying on love and friendship to fight your enemies, a few new possibilities emerge. That was my last sight as I slipped into unconsciousness, my general showing what ponies could really do.

***

I woke up in the med-center in a bed next to Silverspeed’s. She was staring at me, worry clearly etched into her face. I gave her a smile and a wink with my good eye; she returned it.

“She hasn’t stopped staring at you since I brought you in,” Shining Armor’s voice came from behind me. I turned my head, my vertebrae applauding the feat as I did so. I opened my mouth to speak but he stopped me.

“Drink something first. You won’t get much out of a parched throat,” he told me. He passed me a glass of water and I sipped it slowly. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until I felt the water touch my throat. It felt heavenly. Once I’d finished the cup, I pushed myself up a little in the bed, grimacing as my body protested.

“Ready to report, sir,” I told him once the pain had subsided. He nodded seriously and listened intently as I recounted everything I could remember up to going to sleep.
“...and you know the rest from there, sir,” I finished.

“I see,” he thought for a moment, “but no sign of an army?” I shook my head.

“Just scouts, sir.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Silverspeed spoke out. We turned to face her. She was moving well and her voice was back to normal. I couldn’t help but smile at how much better she seemed to be.

“Continue,” Shining Armor commanded.

“Sir, maybe they’re using some kind of shield, like you do, but instead of keeping things out, it hides them from everything.”

“Shielding an entire army?” he asked, chuckling a little. “Only a few ponies have that kind of power, and, unless Chrysalis is with them, I don’t think it’s possible.”

“No sir,” she protested firmly, “think about it. Everypony in the army has some kind of magic. I know most Changelings aren’t very good with it, but if they all worked together, I think they could pull it off.” Shining Armor thought about it for a second then asked,

“If that’s true, how would you suggest finding them?”

“Throw out a cancellation spell,” Silverspeed replied matter-of-factly.

“Where? I don’t have the strength to cast it over all of Equestria. I’d need something to hint at where they’d be.” Silverspeed swallowed, suddenly nervous.

“Sir,” she said meekly, “I think they’re here.” Shining Armor raised an eyebrow.

“Explain.”

“Well sir, I’ve been listening. Word is that their scouting parties are densest near the camp. Our messengers had to have been spotted as they left or at least one of them would have made it out of the area, right? And what about the ones that got Cloud? They would’ve been scouting for the base right? And they must’ve found it. Why stop to harass one pony when they could be reporting to their superiors?”
“That would explain how they found me so easily last night,” I added. Shining Armor’s face darkened.

“Why?” he asked, “Why wouldn’t they just attack?” Silverspeed shrugged.

“Maybe they’re waiting for orders?”

“Or maybe they’re trying to infiltrate first,” I said. “Why spend a few lives in a fight when you could win for free by replacing everypony one by one?”
“Impossible,” Shining Armor stated, “Even if they managed to bypass all of the other security we have in place, each pony’s Pattern is unique. We’d have found at least one of them by now.”
“Not if they’re that close, sir,” Silverspeed replied steadily, “They’d be able to watch for as long as they needed to to learn a pattern.” Shining Armor shook his head, struggling to grasp the situation. Then his eyes widened and he ran out of the room. Silverspeed and I exchanged looks and she got out of bed.

“Can you help me out?” I asked her, struggling out of the bed.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked, “You’re still hurt.”

“If we’re right,” I told her, “a lot of Changelings are about to be revealed in this camp. Would it be better to be stuck here alone?” Silverspeed bit her lip, then sighed and moved to help me. We hobbled out of the med-station, asking after Shining Armor and following the trail until we caught up with him in the main watchtower at the center of camp. He was massing energy for a spell.
Silverspeed and I just looked on, wondering what was about to happen. The tension built and the air fairly hummed with energy. Then there was a crack like thunder and a wave of violet emanated from Shining Armor, spreading in every direction. And that’s when we saw it. Less than half a mile outside of our gates, an army of Changelings greater than any we’d seen before. My jaw hung open, so did Silverspeed’s. Shining Armor remained stoic, though a single tear escaped his eyes. We forced ourselves to look away from the army and down towards the camp, which was no longer full of ponies. Changelings walked the paths as confidently as our soldiers once had. Safe and secure and undetected.

“There- there’s no way,” Silverspeed breathed. “Are we- the only ones left?” I shook my head not ready to believe it. Then the screaming started.
The Changelings looked around in confusion, then anger...then joy. Their wings started buzzing as they took to the skies and the screaming increased. Sounds of fighting rang out. I looked to Shining Armor.

“General?” I asked. He returned my gaze steadily, an intense fury burning in his eyes. I saw it and I knew exactly what he was feeling, how badly he wanted to kill. It was the same thing I’d felt when Silverspeed was hurt. It was wrath.

“Stay here,” he told us.

“We can help you fight!” I protested.

“No you can’t,” he snapped. His eyes had gone black again. “If you try, you will be a liability. You will get in the way and you will die. Stay here unless you see a chance to escape, but do not come after me.” Then he leapt from the tower, blazing with that anti-light.
There is only one day fixed more clearly in my memory than this one. We watched, Silverspeed and I, as Shining Armor cut down enemies, leaving nothing behind him but scorched earth and scattered remains. Hoards of Changelings descended upon him, only to melt as their hooves entered that anti-light aura. Their hisses turned to screams as they died, but they kept coming. First dozens, then hundreds. Shining Armor killed more than I could count that day, but it was not enough. They swarmed him and he fell. We watched from the tower as he was dragged away. Silverspeed pressed close against me and I could feel her shaking, or maybe it was me. Maybe it was both of us. I didn't know, I wasn't even sure if I cared; our last hope was gone.

Fall of a Shining Star (pt. 2)

There is only one day fixed more clearly in my memory than this one. We watched, Silverspeed and I, as Shining Armor cut down enemies, leaving nothing behind him but scorched earth and scattered remains. Hoards of Changelings descended upon him, only to melt as their hooves entered that anti-light aura. Their hisses turned to screams as they died, but they kept coming. First dozens, then hundreds. Shining Armor killed more than I could count that day, but it was not enough. They swarmed him and he fell. We watched from the tower as he was dragged away. Silverspeed pressed close against me and I could feel her shaking, or maybe it was me. Maybe it was both of us.
We stayed in that tower for hours. Night fell and the sun rose again. We hadn’t slept. Silverspeed snuck out to gather food and more bandages for me, and I rested. I felt useless, but the sooner I healed, the sooner we could escape.

The Changelings had abandoned the camp after taking Shining Armor. Either they didn’t realize we were still alive or they didn’t care. I told Silverspeed to run, to get to the capital and report, but she wouldn’t leave me. I don’t think I ever told her how thankful I was.

There was one night, maybe five days after Shining Armor had been taken, I woke from a fitful sleep. I’d been reliving the night the Changelings had caught me again, the only difference being that, in my dreams, Shining Armor never came. I opened my eyes to see Silverspeed above me, stroking my mane gently and humming a quiet lullaby, trying to sooth me.

“You dreamt about them, didn’t you?” she asked, a look of compassion and understanding on her face. I nodded.

“What do you do to get away?” I asked her, trying to keep my voice steady.

She looked at me for a moment, smiling. I saw thoughts in her eyes, but I couldn’t decipher them. It took her almost a minute to answer.

“Cloudesdale,” she’d said. “What about you?”
“Flutter,” I’d replied immediately, smiling at the thought of her, resting, safe in the capitol. Silverspeed nodded silently and we listened to the birds sing for a few minutes, then she asked,

“Are you afraid of them?” I nodded again.

“I don’t know if we should be,” she told me quietly. My fear vanished, pushed away by a sudden, defensive anger.

“Why not?” I snapped. “What’s not to fear about creatures like those? Why shouldn’t we be afraid?”

“Because,” she said with a shrug, unperturbed by my outburst, “we’ve already proven that we’re better.”

“How? Our entire camp is gone!” I shouted. “They destroyed us!” My voice echoed throughout the empty camp, but Silverspeed just shook her head.

“How many Changelings did that take though?” she asked, “And how many have you killed alone? How many have each of us killed alone, every soldier?” I let the questions hang in the air, not wanting to answer. “We’ve already proven that we’re stronger. That we’re smarter,” her smile grew a little, “That we have more to fight for.”

“I don’t know how many ponies can say the same these days,” I told her angrily, “And as strong and smart as we might be, it never seems to really matter. We can kill as many as we want and there are still a thousand more to take their place! How do we fight something like that?”

“We cut them off,” she replied coolly.

“How? We don’t know anything about them!”

“I do.” Her words left a tense silence in their wake.

“What do you mean, ‘you do’?” I asked.

“When I go to get supplies, I’ll sometimes do a flyover of the Changeling camp,” her voice took on a macabre tone as she continued, “I’ve seen what they do to the ponies they take. Some of them anyway.” She stopped, but I didn’t know what to say. I waited for her to continue.
“Some they eat straight off,” she said, “While they’re still alive. Some they put into cages and simply drag away, but... I never followed them. Some...” she paused, “some they put into those cocoons. They’d even brought some with them. I didn’t know why at first. They would shove them in and then just sit around those things, talking or sleeping or just staring into the distance. I’ve watched those cocoons for days trying to figure out what’s been happening.”

“And?” I asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice.

“They convert us, Cloud. I don’t know how, but the ponies they put into those cocoons end up as Changelings.” The words fell like bricks. I was silent, but I wasn’t surprised. Not as surprised as I feel I should have been. I guess I’d always known on some instinctual level. There had always just been too many similarities between Changelings and ponies, too many faces that we almost recognized. Even so, it sparked an something in me. Those monsters were turning us into our own enemies. They warped loyal ponies into abominations just so they could kill more ponies. The kindling had been set, then Silverspeed threw on the real fuel.

“They put Shining Armor into one of those things,” she told me quietly. The fire leapt in a flash, not as violent this time, not as angry, but steady and fierce, determined. The image of my general, the pony who had saved me twice over in the span of a week, the pony who had shown what ponies were capable of and the pony the Changelings had sent a whole army to kill, the pony who’d shown out alone against a black tide, being slowly turned into one of those monsters was emblazoned in my mind. I stood up and away from Silverspeed, flexing my wings. They weren’t perfect, but I would make do. Silverspeed was smiling.

“I don’t think that that’s something we can allow, Speedy,” I told her, feeling a similar smile spread across my face. “How long does it take to turn a pony?”

“A little more than a week,” she replied.

“Good,” I pulled her to her hooves, “Let’s go get our general.”

***

The Changeling camp was in constant motion, but it wasn’t hard to sneak in. Changelings have no real defenses or checkpoints, and they don’t seem to notice anything that isn’t another Changeling when they’re not fighting. No one knew quite why their defense was so lax, but ponies were always putting out ideas. I’d heard a report saying it had something to do with information sharing and dormancy. When they were in large, non-hostile groups, they tapped into some kind of hive mind and let their bodies move about independently. They were more concerned with the collective group than what each individual was sensing so defending the shells didn’t seem important. Whatever the reason, it made my life easier and I liked it.

The pods, similarly, were not hard to locate, stuck right in the middle of camp. They were surrounded by Changelings, just as Silverspeed had said, and, again, had no discernable defense. I walked in between them slowly, trying not to do anything that would attract any excess attention. I found Shining Armor located in the very center of the little pod field. He looked every bit like he was having a nightmare.

“How do we move him?” I asked Silverspeed in a whisper.

“I’m not sure. From what I’ve seen, the cocoons are keyed in to the hive mind. If we try to break it open or move it, we’ll alert the Changelings.” I growled in frustration.

“So what are we supposed to do? Just stare at him?”
Silverspeed shrugged.

“The Changelings have to have a way to open these things, right? To put ponies in them?” she asked, walking her way through her thoughts vocally. I nodded and started looking over the surface of the prison, trying to find some latch or button that would open it, but it seemed totally smooth. We looked around for a good twenty minutes before we finally found what we needed, a little, crooked horn insert, hidden by a black cover. Silverspeed and I exchanged looks.

“I don’t suppose you’ve got a carrot or something?” I asked, annoyed by this bothersome deficiency. Silverspeed shook her head and said,

“And even if I did, I bet it’s magic activated. Unless you can cast spells through a carrot, we’d be just as stuck.” I gave a short laugh at the thought, then brought myself back to the situation.

“So what do we do?” I asked, ignoring the sudden urge to simply bash the cocoon to bits.

“We’ll have to get a Changeling to open it for us,” she replied. I raised an eyebrow at her.

“Maybe if we make the area seem insecure, they’ll have to relocate?” she suggested.

“Oooh,” I replied, a long grin creeping across my face, “I like that idea.”

Explosives aren’t hard to come by in a military installation, especially after it’s abandoned, and it didn’t take too long at all for Silverspeed and I to get what we needed to make that area seem very unsafe.

We were careful to set the charges at a distance that wouldn’t be harmful to the captured ponies- we might have come for Shining Armor, but we wanted to get as many ponies as we could out safe.

“Alright,” I said after I’d placed the last charge, “Everything’s set, but I don’t think we want to be in sight when these things go boom.” Silverspeed nodded and we took into the air, going as far up as we could without giving up too much oxygen. The entire Changeling army looked like nothing more than a blemish on the land from up there. I looked forward to its extermination. First things first though. I looked to Silverspeed and she gave me a nod. I activated the detonator.

Red and orange bloomed amongst the black spot below us and a few seconds later the sound of the explosions caught up. Silverspeed and I started our descent, watching the activity around the cocoons carefully. Our plan seemed to be working perfectly. While most of the Changelings took to the sky, searching for their attackers, some had split off from the main group, rushing to the cocoons. I flew in close, keeping an eye out for any Changelings that might have seen me and biding my time until Shining Armor’s cocoon opened. But my hopes were dashed violently. The Changelings didn’t bother to open the cocoons, choosing instead just to lift them and run. I swore and glided over to Silverspeed.

“We need to follow them,” I told her hushedly, “Maybe we can catch them unprotected while they run!” She nodded and we started following, still careful to stay low and out of sight. A deafening crack brought our attention back to the other cocoons. The Changelings were smashing them, destroying them in an uncontrolled frenzy.

“What are they doing?” Silverspeed asked, confusion and distress evident in her voice.

“Damage control,” I said severely, “They know they can’t keep track of all of the cocoons so they’re trying to make sure we can’t take them back.” Silverspeed was aghast.

“We have to save them!” She cried. I prayed the Changelings hadn’t heard her over the sound of the commotion below.

“We can’t!” I told her, pressing my face close to hers in an attempt to bring her volume down again. “We came for Shining Armor, he’s the priority.”

“And what would he say the priority is?” she asked accusingly.

“We’ll ask him once he’s free,” I hissed. Silverspeed shot me an venomous glare.
“No difference between asking when they’re dead,” she hissed back, “No. We’re helpin them now.” It was a declaration, not a request. “Shining Armor is safe for now. Those ponies are dying.” I glanced back at the grim scene below me. The Changelings had trampled almost half a dozen cocoons. It was a sickening sight. The ground was painted with the bile green fluid inside the cocoons, mixed all-too liberally with the sharp crimson of pony blood. Chips of bone littered the ground like autumn leaves. The worst part though, was the Changelings. They ate as the rampaged, taking gobbets out of the half-alive ponies, even as they stomped them into the dirt. The taste of blood rose in my throat. I tried to swallow it back, but I was certain I would end up choking on it. The Changelings smashed open another cocoon, sharp hooves continuing right on into the pony within. Blood was pushed out in a spurt.

“We’ll die,” I said quietly, only half to Silverspeed.

“A blessing,” Silverspeed replied. Then we shot down towards the Changelings, shattering their black shells, our hoof-blades leading the way. Our actions drew the attention of a few of the Changelings above.

“Open the cocoons!” I screamed, “I’ll watch your back! If we can wake up the others we might have a way out!” Silverspeed didn’t reply, she’d already started cracking cocoons. I did my best to hold off the charging Changelings, but they were pushing me back. I was faster. I was stronger. But it was like fighting the ocean’s tide, breaking a wave just to have another come in a second later. It didn’t take long for the ichor to plaster my fur to my body, sticking in thick clumps and turning me an unseemly grey-green color reminiscent of rotted flesh. There were too many for me to fight alone, but more ponies were waking now though. First there was one fighting beside me. Then two. Five. Ten. Some must have chosen to help Silverspeed open the rest of the cocoons. Then there was the hum of magic behind me and the smell of burned atmosphere filled the air, accompanied by familiar black beams. I whipped my head around and a manic laugh bubbled out from my chest. Shining Armor stood there, dressed fully in the armor I’d seen him taken in. He let loose beams liberally, felling Changelings left and right. I fell back, letting the others wrestle with the Changelings while I gave myself a chance catch my breath. I found Silverspeed doing much the same.

“I thought Shining Armor was one of the ones they ran off with!” I shouted above the din of battle.

“They must have decided they couldn’t risk him being retaken, not even to have him as a new Changeling!” She shouted back.

“All the better for us!” Silverspeed and I shared a smile. I turned back to the battle and welcomed the sight of retreating Changelings.

“They’re only regrouping!” Shining Armor’s voice rang out clear above everything. “We need to move! Everyone, retreat. Get back to the camp and bar the gates!” We did as we were told, and covering the retreat, alone against the remaining Changelings, was Shining Armor, his white form standing out starkly against a cloak of magic as black and dark as a moonless night, every bit like a shining star.

***

The gates slammed shut behind us and a violet forcefield grew into existence around the camp. I was amazed at how much power Shining Armor still possessed after what he’d been through. I left Silverspeed in charge of the disoriented ponies and went to find him.

“Sir!” I called out once I’d found him, staring out over the walls at the Changeling army.

“What do you want?” he asked me quietly. There was something off-putting about him.

“To make sure you’re all right, sir,” I told him earnestly.

“I’m fine.”

“Sir, after what you’ve been through-”

“I know what I’ve been through,” he said dismissively. That stopped me.

“You...know? What do you mean you know?” I asked. He almost seemed like he wasn’t going to give me an answer, then he took a deep breath and started talking.

“ I know what the cocoons do now. I understand. Celestia has been trying for ages to uncover the process Changelings use to convert ponies, but she’s never gained any ground. I was in one of those abominations and I’d still only just figured it out when Silverspeed cracked it open.” I stopped him with a sudden outburst.

“You knew?” I cried. “You knew all along what the Changelings did?” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.

“What difference does it make?” He asked, “We had no choice but to fight. It’s not like we were letting them take anypony. Letting the knowledge be public would only have served to demoralize our armies. Would that have been wise?” It was more of an accusation than a question. I relented, asking that he continue.

“I lay in that coffin for days,” he began, “and every day I felt hope slipping away. I blamed it on the situation; after all, it was the only logical solution. I thought about Cadance and Twilight to keep my spirits high, but when my hope was gone, I started thinking about them less. I stopped thinking about Twilight altogether and just tried to focus on Cadance. I thought about our wedding and about the joy I’d felt, but nothing came of it. A few times her face was replaced by Chrysalis’ in my mind. I didn’t know why. I was disgusted with myself. I stopped thinking about love and tried happiness. I brought out as many happy memories as I could, but in the end, the only memories that brought joy were those of killing. Cloudchaser, that’s what those cocoons do. We all know that Changelings feed on love and happiness, well the cocoons act as a kind of conduit, funneling it out faster and locking the door when it’s gone. That’s what happens. And when a pony has no more hope, no more love, and no more happiness, the Changelings start eating memories instead.”

“How much did you lose?” I asked him softly, afraid of how he might react.

“I don’t remember half of the ponies down there,” he told me, “I don’t remember a lot of my time as a royal guard either. I remember names and relations, but not faces.” I felt tears well in my eyes for him, my sadness only made more intense knowing that he couldn’t feel what he’d lost.

“Do I have any pictures of Twilight and Cadance?” he asked quietly.

“Yes sir,” I replied, “I’ll go get them for you.”

“Thank you, Cloudchaser.”

I met Silverspeed on the way down from the wall.

“What’d he say,” she asked.

“He’s been through alot,” I told her, “I’ll fill you in on the way.”

“Way where?”

“His office.” I repeated everything he’d told me on the way down, carefully keeping my eyes forward. I didn’t want to have to face her with that kind of information. We picked up the pictures carefully and paced back to where Shining Armor had been. A different pony was there instead, standing as sentry. We asked him where Shining Armor had gone and he pointed us to the watch tower. I felt a sense of ease wash over me at the sight of my temporary home. My time there may not have been happy, but that place had been a kind shelter to me.

My ease didn’t last long. An earth shaking explosion rocked the camp and Shining Armor’s shield blazed suddenly. I looked to the sky; the Changelings were there, black form silhouetted against the setting sun. They descended like a hammer, every body moving as one unit in an attempt to batter down our protection. Alarms started sounding. Ponies, many still dazed and covered in the cocoon’s filth, ran to gather arms. I wondered how many were in the same state as Shining Armor.

“What do you think?” I asked, looking back at Silverspeed.

“Shining Armor’s field will hold for now,” she said calmly, “but he can’t keep it up forever. We don’t have the numbers to fight. We’ll need a miracle.”

“I’ve had a lot of those recently,” I told her with a smirk, “I don’t think one more is asking too much.”

“Lets get our gear then,” she said. We ran to our quarters and strapped on our blades. The Changelings hammered into the shield three more times before we were out with the others. Pegasi were in the air already, waiting to begin the engagement. The ponies on the ground were carrying rifles. Shining Armor was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s the general?” Silverspeed asked, looking around as if she thought she’d find him hiding somewhere.

“Probably still in the watch tower,” I replied, suddenly remembering the pictures we were carrying. “We’ll grab him when we drop these off.” We ran up the tower fast enough that the spiral staircase made me dizzy, only slowing when the door was in sight. We pushed it open and emerged into the evening air, only feet below Shining Armor’s forcefield.

“General,” Silverspeed and I said together, snapping into a salute. He motioned for us to be at ease.

“Do you have them?” he asked, seeming not to care about the Changeling hoard currently attacking our best defense. I nodded and brought them to him, trying to ignore the worry gnawing at my belly.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. He stared at the pictures for a second. Each was a simple portrait shot; one of Twilight smiling and surrounded by books, the other of Cadance in her wedding dress, smiling like a fool with a happy tear glistening on her cheek. I thought I saw a smile appear on Shining Armor’s face, but it didn’t last, if it had been there at all.

“I needed to see them again,” he told us. Then his mindset shifted. “How are the ponies looking?”

“Everyone is armed and ready, General,” I replied.

“Good. How long do you think they can last?” The question put ice in my blood, but I forced it out, trying to replace it with steel.

“An hour at least, sir, but we’ll push for more.” Silverspeed gave a solid affirmation.

“I don’t think it will take that long,” he said, “but I’ll need some time to gather magic for a spell.”

“What kind of spell?” Silverspeed asked.

“The unfriendly kind,” he replied. It mortified me how happy that statement seemed to make him, especially when looking on his loved ones gave him nothing.

“Go get ready,” he finished, dismissing us with a wave of his hoof. We left the tower, flying over to join the other pegasi. The Changelings truck again, sending another ripple of glaring light out from the impact point, then, right as the strike had completely landed, the shield disappeared. The Changelings hovered in the air, unsure of what had happened, and we took our chance. The pegasi charged as the report of gunfire roared beneath us. Changelings started falling. Silverspeed and I stayed close, spinning and dodging, never giving the Changelings a shot at our backs. Other pegasi weren’t so well off. I watched some fall in the first seconds of fighting, each totally engulfed by Changelings. I felt a familiar tension start to fill the air, the crackle of magic making my hair stand on end. More pegasi fell and some of the Changelings were breaking off to target the ponies on the ground. Whatever Shining Armor planned to do, he needed to do it soon. I jammed my blades into a nearby Changeling, spinning to throw it into another that was making a charge at Silverspeed. More Changelings fell, but we’d still hardly made a dent in their forces. Blood flew everywhere, mixing with ichor and bile. I noticed after a little while that the sound of gunfire below had dwindled drastically. I couldn’t let my focus slip though. I needed to keep fighting. I don’t know how long that battle raged, but I remember how it ended. The Changelings had thrown all the other pegasi from the sky, leaving only Silverspeed and I to fight them. They ganged up on us. I managed to evade them, but Silverspeed wasn’t fast enough. She wasn’t even visible through the mass of Changelings covering her when she fell. I had no way to save her. I ran and I screamed. I killed everything in my way, putting all of my effort into reaching the watchtower. Shining Armor was there, swathed in the same black I’d grown so accustomed to.

“Do it!” I screamed at him, “We’re out of time! They took Silverspeed! Do it!” His pitch black eyes turned towards me and in that instant, all I could feel was fear.

“Wha-what are you doing?” I managed to whimper.

“Finishing the spell,” he replied.
“I started using this magic because it was better for fighting,” he told me darkly, “When you stop relying on love for fighting, you’re given a few new options. When you lose love completely, those options grow. Look to the sky, Cloudchaser.” I did as he told me, not noticing anything at first. Then a star disappeared. Then another. Stars all across the sky were being blotted out and every time one ceased, Shining Armor glowed brighter within his dark mantle. Then he flew, leaping straight into the sky, becoming the brightest star I’d ever seen. And then he fell, a comet’s tail streaming out behind him, pure white against the pure black magic. The Changelings looked up too. All sounds of fighting stopped. Some tried to flee, but they had no chance. As he made impact and the world was engulfed in equal parts light and dark, I heard his words echo across the moor.
“Thank you for letting me see them one more time, Cloudchaser. Tell them I loved them dearly, and never to give up their hope.”

***

I woke up sometime later with the sun just starting to rise. I sat up, aching severely and trying to remember what had happened.
SILVERSPEED
The name blazed across my mind and I jolted awake, leaping to my hooves. I raced around the camp, trying to find her.
Maybe she’s alright, I tried to tell myself, she’s fallen farther than that. She’ll be fine. I started digging through a pile of Changelings, searching desperately for my friend. A hoof alighted on my shoulder. I whipped around to face another soldier. I didn’t remember his name. I didn’t care. I grabbed him and screamed,
“Where is Silverspeed?” He took my hooves away gently.
“She’s been asking for you,” he replied. My heart skipped a beat. Silverspeed was alive.
“Take me to her,” I ordered him.
“Hold on a sec,” he said, putting a steadying hoof on mine. “She’s in a bad way. She took a bad fall with a lot of Changelings on her. No one knows if she’s gonna make it, okay? I slapped him.
“Of course she’ll make it! I need to see her now!” I realized my hysteria and tried to calm myself. I apologized and asked much more quietly,
“Please, let me see her. If she doesn’t make it, I need to say goodbye.” He nodded and started leading me. It wasn’t a long walk, but every step seemed to add weight to my shoulders. We made it to a makeshift tent near the rubble of the old med-center. Silverspeed was lying on a pile of blankets on the ground. I ran to her side.
“Speedy,” I said quietly, lying down next to her, “hey, Speedy, I’m here, okay?” She coughed, droplets of blood flecking her lips, but she was smiling.
“Thanks, Cloud,” she said. Her voice was terrible, it sounded burnt and scratched. It was no surprise looking at her body. Each wound holds a permanent place in my memory, but I get sick thinking about them. I can’t believe I let it happen.
“Try not to talk,” I remember telling her. “You can say anything later.”
“ ‘Fraid I can’t count on that, ma’am,” she replied. I shushed her but she kept going. “I don’t think I’ll make it this time. I know I’ve thought it before, but this time I think it’s the real deal.” I shook my head, trying to deny her words.
“You’d better not,” I told her, feeling my throat close up as my eyes flooded. “You don’t even think about it.”
“I’ll try,” she said. She went through a fit of coughing. I tried to get a nurse’s attention only to realize that there were no medical staff present. The few other survivors stood in a loose circle around us with unwavering attention. I sent one of them to go get water just as Silverspeed’s fit subsided.
“Cloud, just in case this is the day though. I really have to tell you. I love you, Cloud. I know you’re with Flitter and I know you’re happy, but I don’t think I’ll get in the way of that. I just need you to know that I love you.” She entered another fit, this one more violent. The pony got back with water and I gave it to her a little at a time, trying to time it between breaths and coughs. She looked at me with that same smile she’d had when I woke up after my attack.
“Thanks, Cloud,” she said quietly. I just cried. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I cried. I cried and I held her and stroked her mane gently; I kissed her forehead and I waited with her. I felt it when she left and I pulled her body against me, unable to let go of the friend who’d never left my side. She died with a smile on her face.

***

Reinforcements from the capitol arrived a few days later with food and medical supplies. Apparently the Changelings had been feeding them false reports to keep them from coming to our aid. There was a total of sixteen survivors.
Flutter was waiting for me when I got back to the capitol. I told her everything I was allowed to and stayed huddled in her arms for as long as I could. It was comfortable. I’m glad I’m with Flutter. I never won’t be, but some days I wake from my nightmares to her stroking my mane and humming and I would I could give up all of that comfort to be back in the tower with Silverspeed again, to see my old friend one more time.
I never re-enlisted, not when I after I found out what was at stake. I was willing to risk my life, but I wasn’t willing to risk my love or my memories of Silverspeed. Or of Shining Armor, whose story I made sure all of Equestria heard. I gave Cadance and Twilight his message personally. I hope they never found out what happened to him.
Looking back, I suppose it was a victory, considering the odds. But I will never forget that it came at the price of two unparalleled ponies, among countless others. I will never forget the fall of my shining stars.

The Battle of Big Macintosh (pt. 1)

Big Mac nudged the flap of his tent aside and strode onto the morning dew. The sky was overcast and dark, with rain falling intermittently and the soft roll of thunder echoing from the Macintosh hills. He took a deep breath and waited for the watch shifts to end. He wanted to be ready to receive reports as soon as they came in.

The day was like any other in the past month. The soldiers of Mac’s Emerald Sea Company milled about, cleaning gear and grazing; the birds and rodents that had once inhabited the knolls remained starkly absent; and the air hung thick, weighed down by fear and anger. Though lately, it seemed like more than that; hatred. The air stank of hatred, pushing out the love that used bring Equestria to life. The atmosphere chafed him. Mac shook himself and huffed out through his nose. The pressure was burdensome, so constant and repressed as to border on painful. But there was nothing for it. He squared his shoulders and set his jaw, determined not to start the day off in a bad mood.

The tension had been building since scouts last month brought reports of a changeling horde gathering in the wasteland on the other side of the Macintosh hills. It had been rumored for decades that the changelings came from somewhere in the Badlands, and that, while they’d been positioning themselves around Equestria for years, the bulk of their race still lived somewhere in the crags. It appeared that those rumors were true.

Mac had sent for, and received reinforcements from Canterlot, but, with every passing day, he lost some faith that it would be enough. Celestia had sent enough companies to make up a full battalion, each with its own CO, but the horde grew by the week. Reports of their numbers varied by the day, but no estimate placed them lower than a full brigade. The ponies couldn’t fight numbers like that. Mac had increased drills for his troops and invested heavily in new strategies, but his outlook remained grim.

Don’t start the day off ill tempered, he chided himself.

The sun climbed a little higher, wisping morning dew from the grass as scouts started funneling in to give him their reports. Wildfire was the first, her pale face somber and drawn as she came in to land. She was returning from a check-in with Canterlot. Mac smoothed his face, trying not to let his anxiety at her expression show through. News these days was never good, and he didn’t expect that that would change anytime soon. Wildfire was an optimistic pony though. It would have taken something serious to hurt her morale.

“Ready, Major?” she asked as she touched down, hooves coming to the ground in a soft tattoo.

“Eeyup,” came his brief reply.

“It’s big news, sir, and not the good kind,” her voice tightened over the last words, “Omega’s been hit.” Big Mac’s eyes narrowed and he nodded for her to continue.

“Hard, sir. It’s gone. There are a few survivors, but not many. It was a massacre. Greater than 90% casualties, and the ones that made it....some of them...some of them are messed up.” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I can’t explain it, sir. The changelings kept ‘em in those pods we’ve been finding. When they get out. They’ve got nothing left in ‘em. Nothin’ good, at any rate.” She hesitated as if wondering how much she should say, then seemed to make a decision, finishing, “It’s covered more completely in the write-up, sir.” Mac took a breath and steeled himself. He already knew the answer, but he had to ask.

“Shining Armor?”

“Gone, sir. The royal family’s in grieving.” Her voice shook and she cast her face down to hide her expression. “We all are.” Mac nodded his acceptance and gave them both a moment to compose themselves. He'd met the prince only occasionally. Shining Armor had been an upstanding pony and a solid friend to any who knew him.

“Dismissed,” he told her quietly once he felt that he could speak without his voice cracking. She snapped a salute and flew off, wings flapping gently. So much for not starting the day off in a bad mood.

The rest of the scouts came one after the other. He listened carefully to each, setting the news of Omega outpost and the prince aside. He didn’t have time for grief. He had a war to fight.

Reports of the changeling’s numbers today sent chills down his spine. Nearly half the changeling force had disappeared overnight, somehow moving when none of the scouts could see them. It wasn’t strange for groups of changelings, even large ones, to split off from the larger armies, but the scale had never been quite so massive. Mac’s hooves itched. They wouldn’t just disappear. They were out there somewhere, plotting something or hurting someone. Probably both. At least, when they were in the horde, he could’ve kept tabs on them. He told the pegasus who'd given him the report to alert the watch, and she started on her way. The ponies had been expecting an attack since they’d set up camp, but Mac was certain that it was imminent now.

Once the last scout had finished her report, Mac double checked that everypony had left a write-up on his desk, making a note to read them as soon as he finished his morning business. Then he made the rounds about camp. He checked on the watch-towers first, and told his troops what they needed to hear- that he suspected an attack and that he wanted them on their most alert today. He left them with an order to spread the word as they could. He made it clear that everypony was to have a weapon close by and that the unicorns were to prepare to establish defenses. Then he met with his comms officers. He asked first that they repeat his message over the loudspeaker to ensure that the whole camp was ready to go at a moment's notice. Then he had them spread out amongst the other troops. It wasn’t an efficient position from a purely communication standpoint, but it increased the chances that any ponies who got separated from the main group would have someone with communication expertise nearby.

That accomplished, he returned to his tent to check over his own weapons and armor, strapping on the latter. He ran through his checklist for the morning, and, satisfied, settled down to read the scouts’ write-ups. After that, it was just back to waiting, and wondering whether the inevitable would choose to happen today.

That’s all war was. Waiting and waiting. Doing busywork and being happy that that’s all you had to do. Trying to ignore the weight of everything riding on your success so that you could delay insanity for one more day. For Mac anyway. The day drew on slowly, the pressure still building outside- faster now that everyone was on high alert. Hooves itched at triggers, ponies talked together in small groups, burying their growing fear with bravado and fantasies of slaughter. Mac had to trust that his staff sergeants would keep any group from getting too riled up.

For his own part, Mac had trouble focusing on his work. His thoughts kept drifting to his farm and to Ponyville, to all of the friends he didn’t know if he’d see again. He’d already lost a few. His daydreams would be broken by an imagined gunshot or the hum of changeling wings. Mac would jump, then pull himself together and try to relax again. He couldn’t stop his warring mind wading through old memories though. The watch pony had just called out noon when a shout broke his revery. For a moment, Mac thought he’d imagined it, then he heard the call from one of the watch ponies.

“Major! Eyes to the sky!” Mac rushed out of his tent and turned his face upwards to see the clouds that had plagued the camp all morning begin to break. Only thin shafts of light broke through. Mac squinted, his tired eyes unable to make out what his attention had been called to, even as his stomach knotted at the only possibility. The remaining clouds were dark, their presence ominous, but that alone wouldn’t warrant such alarm. That was the buzzing, the sharp hum of dragonfly wings at a distance. There were no clouds; the sun was blotted out by Changelings. Alarms went off only seconds after the sound became audible and ponies hoisted weapons onto their shoulders. Shots rang out everywhere and changelings started falling, some cloaked in the green flare they often used to boost their first attack. Mac had his soldiers trained well. The fire was thick, but troops were making sure to get to areas they could defend. Unicorns called up walls of earth in domes to form bunkers. Big Mac leapt into the nearest and fell to three legs so the other ponies could arm him.

Weapons had always been a hassle. It had been one of the ponies’ biggest problems at the beginning of the war. The hoof-blades favored by pegasi were easy for a single pony to equip, and unicorns could levitate just about anything into the right position. The earth ponies suffered though. All rifles were made to strap onto a pony’s shoulder for support, but straps weren’t easy to maneuver when ponies could only grip things with their mouths. Unicorns could use magic to clip everything together, but earth ponies had no such abilities. The strength that was their defining feature let them use heavier armaments, but the dextrous actions needed to clip rifles into place were nearly impossible for a single pony. When Twilight heard of this problem, she personally re-designed the holsters for easy use, but even those took at least a second pony to equip.

Still Big Mac thought as the rifle clicked into place on his shoulder at least we get the good stuff. He swung the massive barrels of the EPAR III over to a crenelation and leaned into the trigger. He was braced for the recoil and the first leap of the firing gun still shook him. The barrells took turns blasting rounds, one allowing the other to recover from the kickback. His aim was true and changelings were dropping. He paid special attention to the other bunkers, picking off any enemies that had started trying to breach the stone walls. He knew that his troops were doing the same for him.

Mac observed as the drills he’d run a hundred times were put into play. Ponies who hadn’t immediately made it to shelter drew together and moved to the nearest bunker while any pony in an adjacent turret laid down suppressing fire to keep the changelings well away. Within the first few minutes, no pony was outside of a bunker.

Once within, arms and duties were distributed as necessary to keep the fire coming out of each bunker as thick as possible. Bunkers with extra troops would switch out the ponies at the turrets regularly to keep any from exhausting.

As soon as the bunkers were organized, the real work began. Changelings, while inherently weak magic users, could cause trouble if they worked in groups, so the ponies focused down any clusters of the monsters first. Any changelings who stayed still too long were sure to be picked off by one of Mac’s well-trained sharpshooters, regardless of how high they were above the chaos. Heavier armaments were used to punch holes through any formations the changelings tried to assemble. It required an eye for changeling strategy, but Mac had seen to it personally that every heavy-weapons pony had that eye. Mac’s ponies were doing their job. The changelings seemed unable to break their defenses.

The question of how the other companies were faring pushed itself into Mac’s mind, but he pushed it right back out. He couldn’t worry about another 700 ponies right now. The current battle demanded his attention, and he gave it all he could. Minutes and seconds blurred together as Mac fired. He measured moments by changelings he dropped from the sky.

Six times the changelings tried to organize themselves, charging spells or coming into formation for suicide strikes. Each time Mac’s company concentrated fire on those groups, tearing them apart twice as quickly as they’d come together. After that, most of the changelings took to evasive maneuvers, trying to make Mac’s soldiers waste ammo. They could’ve been standing still for all his troops seemed to care.

He was so focused on the killing that he didn’t notice that the Changelings had gone until he ran out of targets. The sky was empty and clear, sunlight shone down. It wasn’t right.

“Keep the walls up,” he ordered his bunker’s unicorn as he turned around and unclipped his rifle. The white stallion nodded in reply, letting the magic he’d prepared to take the bunker down fade away. Mac surveyed those in the installation with him. The unicorn, Black Marble; three earth ponies; Roma, Serena, and Short Round; and Mac’s personal comm officer, Wisp. Just who Mac was hoping for.
“Radio out,” Mac ordered, “Everypony stays in.” Wisp nodded and started speaking into his radio. Over half of what he said was gibberish to Mac. Codewords had to change often with Changelings around.

Even more now, with what happened to Omega, came a voice from the back of Big Mac’s mind. He pushed the thought away, forcing himself to focus on the now. Changelings never gave up that quickly, they were planning something. He looked out of the windows. All of the bunkers were still standing.

“You really think there’s more out there, sir?” Serena asked.

“Eeyup.” Her face hardened and she returned to her own window, clipping her gun back on. Big Mac waited. From what he could see, not a single bunker had been broken. The ground was soaked with green ichor, but no red pony blood showed against it. And the number of Changeling bodies was too few, even with all they’d killed. There should have been hundreds littering the ground. Changelings would sacrifice half a regiment before they pulled out of a conflict.

“Major, over here!” Short Round called. Mac galloped over to the smaller pony’s turret and looked out. Tiny lambent orbs, each the same color as Changeling ichor floated through the air towards the bunkers.

“This why the Changeling’s left?” Roma asked not leaving her place by the window. Mac shrugged.

“The things are no bigger than parasprites!” Serana shouted. “What would Changelings have to be afraid of?”

“I don’t think they were afraid,” Short Round said, his voice hushed. No sooner had the words left his lips than the screaming started. Big Mac searched for the source. It was a bunker about fifty yards away. The orbs had gotten into it. The walls of the bunker dropped and Mac was given full view of what happened inside. As soon as the orbs made contact, they simply popped, green slime flying everywhere. And everything it touched burned.

“Close up!” Big Mac screamed.

“On it!” Black Marble replied, and the turrets to the bunker started slamming shut. Mac had just enough time to watch the ponies in the downed bunker picked off by black flashes of chiton, huge changelings with larger wings than he’d ever seen and more claws than he remembered. Then the last turret closed with a roar, shutting out the last of the light and smashing an orb as it did so. Acid streaked out and landed on Big Mac’s face. The pain was intense, but he ignored it.

Panic and fury threatened to overwhelm him. The changelings had planned this. They’d wanted the ponies to bunker up, to cluster so that those orbs would be at their most effective.

Stupid he berated himself, Thinkin’ that the enemies wouldn’t have some way to deal with our defenses. Mac stopped himself, stamped a hoof on the ground and brought himself under control. Then he whipped around to face Wisp and started barking orders. He couldn’t afford to let a slip up take his focus now, not when there was still a way to recover.

“Radio out! All bunkers with unoccupied unicorns need a forcefield out. Try to push them critters outta the bunkers before ya seal it. Then dive! Initiate plan varmint!” Wisp did as he was told, relaying orders to every bunker he could reach.

“Varmint, sir?” Black Marble asked seriously. Mac grunted his assent and was suddenly overcome with a sensation of falling as the bunker plunged into the ground. Mac hated this part. The bunker, now a single capsule of earth containing the five ponies, was pitch black; Marble’s horn didn’t give off enough light to allow any sort of vision. And once Wisp had finished relaying the orders, the capsule took on an oppressive silence. Mac found some solace in no longer hearing the screams that had echoed from the troops still up there.

It was unnerving. In a world where ambush was a constant fear, losing the biggest senses a pony had was almost unbearable. Mac ground his teeth and tried to push past the anxiety that hung in the still air. The drills had never felt this claustrophobic, and Mac suddenly understood how a rabbit must feel when a wolf was at its den.

The darkness itself seemed to press in on him, making his head spin and his heart lurch. Mac was suddenly thankful for the unpleasant sensation of his stomach climbing into his throat that demanded so much of his attention. It made it the darkness and the silence a little easier to ignore. Small favors. Even so, he found it difficult not to speak.

“Report,” he ordered, trying to break the unbearable silence.

“No positives, sir,” Wisp replied. “We’re too deep to receive transmissions. I’m pretty sure they got the order, but there’s no way for them to confirm.”

“Marble?” Mac asked.

“We’re almost at max depth, sir,” the unicorn replied. “I’ll take a moment to redirect myself and then we’ll start on up again.” Mac grunted his assent, only half hearing as he tried to settle his stomach and take control of his emotions. His mind drifted to the fate of Omega, but he pushed hard against those thoughts. Emerald Company wasn’t dead yet, even if it was buried.

He ran through plan varmint in his head to keep his mind occupied. It was something he’d started drilling his troops on recently- too recently for him to be totally comfortable initiating it, but he didn’t see that he had a lot of other choices.
Every unicorn, upon joining the military, was taught to apply their magic- whatever their special talent was- to moving earth for trenches, despite their utter uselessness against changelings. Other commanders had viewed it as busywork, but Mac had seen more potential. He’d worked with the most capable unicorns in his company to develop spells for shaping earth into more beneficial installments, like bunkers and cover for supply caches. The culmination of these techniques was plan varmint, enclosed capsules of earth designed for subterranean warfare. All three princesses had lent their knowledge to its development.

The magic was nuanced though, and incredibly difficult for ponies who’d never had to apply their talent to moving earth before. Most of them had gotten the hang of submerging the capsules, but many still found lateral movement beneath the surface impossible. Luckily for Mac, Black Marble had been a mining foreman before he’d joined up, so he had an easier time than most- though even he still found subterranean movement difficult. Still, the changelings had never been much for digging. The ponies didn’t have to get too far down before they were unreachable, which gave them the time they needed to maneuver.

That’s the position they were in now. They had a chance to pull together some other defense while they were below ground, but returning to the surface too quickly would be the death of them. Mac felt trapped, as trapped as he could be, knowing that, every second they stayed below ground, the changelings would be moving, preparing for their return. For all Mac knew, the entire horde had started its march. Again the walls seemed to close in, Mac heard the hoarse, crackling laughter of changelings echoing in the silence, and he had to fight down the urge to scream. Instead he tapped his head gently against the wall to ground himself and turned his attention to the ponies with him. They weren’t trapped if they could put together a counter offensive. They had the space they needed to organize again. Even if the changelings knew about the plan to dive, there was no way for them to get below the surface.

Unless that’s what those big ones are for, spoke that relentless voice in the back of Mac’s mind. He stomped the voice out and pulled himself together, a rock hard resolve forming in his core.

“Starting the climb,” Black Marble announced, bringing Mac back to the situation.

“Hold up,” Big Mac commanded.

“Sir?” This from Roma.

“Won’t be no different if we come back up now. ‘Cept that we won’t all come back up at the same time. They’d pick us off like mice under a hawk’s nest. We need to make contact with the others.” There was a moment of silence, then Mac spoke again, “I’m open fer suggestions as to how.”

“You’re in charge, sir. Thinking’s your job,” Roma chided, her voice carrying just enough levity to let Mac know the joke. He was thankful for it. He needed something light to keep him anchored.

“That ain’t how I trained ya,” he returned, “Now think, we all dig down the same distance. We drilled that well enough. We know they’re down here somewhere, just gotta get to ‘em.”

“I think I remember the position of Roxie’s bunker, sir,” Serena piped up, “They were positioned just twenty or so meters east of us. If we can get some light in here, I’ve got a compass we can use to set our heading. If we can get to her, she might be able to direct us to the other groups- never known a pony with a memory like hers.”

“You expect she can help us round up the rest of the company?” Big Mac asked, skeptical.

“No, sir, but, if we can get enough ponies together, we may have enough of either magic or comm supplies to get a signal to the others.”

“That’s the kinda thinkin’ I trained ya for,” Mac said, not bothering to hide the pride in his voice.

“We just need light, sir.”

“On it,” Black Marble’s voice came from the darkness. There was another moment of silence as Marble concentrated, then a rock blinked to light in the walls, then another. Slowly, the self-contained cave lit up with the incandescent glow of the spelled stones. The ponies worked quickly, setting their course east and checking to make sure they were level before they started moving. The lights blinked out as soon as they were ready, Black Marble unable to sustain both spells at once. Mac had adjusted enough to the silence to recognize the hollow hum of grinding earth that indicated their movement. He closed his eyes, hoping it would seem like he was back on the train leaving Ponyville. Closing his eyes didn’t change much though. The train had never been this cold, nor had the reek of fear-sweat been quite so present. He steeled himself for the feelings of despair that he assumed would come with such thought and he was able to ward them off this time, though his insides still ran cold with worry.

Mac could hear Black Marble struggling to move the earth that contained them, grunting with the effort as he strained to keep the spell up. Mac knew he wouldn’t be able to go long without rest, and rest was something they couldn’t afford right now. Among a few other issues, there was no way to add more air to the capsules. They were working on the clock, and if the unicorns were too exhausted to bring them back to the surface when the air ran out, they’d have literally dug their own graves.

Minutes passed in silence. No contact with the other ponies. It was impossible to tell how fast they were moving. No one knew whether they should have hit the other group yet or not. If they didn’t find Roxie, they’d need a new plan to gather the other ponies. That would take time, and time was of the essence. Mac’s thoughts threatened to run wild, but he forced himself to remain stoic. Every pony around him had to be feeling that same worry, and, as the commanding officer, they were looking to him for their cue on how to respond. Giving voice to that fear would tear down whatever morale the ponies had left, and the situation would turn hopeless. The whole plan relied on each of them staying strong, especially him.

“We should be there soon,” Mac heard Serena whisper. It was more to herself than to any of the other ponies, but the quarters were too close for them not to hear. He placed a reassuring hoof on her shoulder.

“Eeyup.”

He put on his bravest face, making sure his voice was steady and warm. Panic and despair would only exhaust the oxygen faster and give the changelings more time to set up.
Mac was just about to call a halt when dust rained down from the ceiling. Something fell from the darkness above. Curses lit up the air as ponies scrambled to figure out what had happened. Kicks were thrown as ponies tried to clear the space around them. Mac took a hoof to the face before he could master himself enough to end the situation. He took in a breath and shouted a single word over the clamor.

“Rolecall!”

Silence, then-

“Major? Is that you?” Mac recognized the pony’s voice.

“Eeyup,” he replied matter of factly.

“Thank Celestia,” she sighed, “Finally, someone with authority. Lieutenant Roxie, reporting.” After another moment, the rest of the ponies followed suit, starting with Mac’s own group.

Petunia, a purple earth pony and Silver Spanner, the second group’s unicorn, were the other new additions from Roxie’s bunker. Once role finished, Roxie spoke up again,

“So, you got a plan, Major?”

“Round up the others. Need t’gather everypony,” he thought for a moment, then added, “Gonna want ‘em when we go back up to finish those critters off.” This seemed to have the desired effect. The tension in the joined capsules lessened slightly.

“Do you remember the positions of any other bunkers, Roxie?” Serena broke in.

“You bet,” Roxie replied quickly, “just let me think a minute.”

The next half an hour was spent moving from post to post, gathering new ponies as they could. Roxie led them to three different bunkers, and most of the capsules had at least one pony who could remember the position of at least one more. Mac took role every time, taking stock of his troops and trying to think of how best he could position them on the field. Movement got a little easier. Some capsules had extra unicorns that could help shift the earth around. As they added ponies though, Mac began to realize how many were wounded, and just how much was riding on him and his planning. The orbs had done their job, leaving ponies with holes and scars that would make it hard to fight. Some had lost the bottom of their hooves, other had lost eyes, one mare had jumped onto an orb to keep it from popping on her companions. Her chest had been completely opened. It was an ugly way to go. Mac tried to organize supplies for the wounded while he considered possible strategies, but, with all of the unicorns focused on moving the ever-growing space, they were forced to work in the dark.

Even worse, morale in the other capsules was low. He found many of his troops huddled together and crying, broken by the carnage above and the brutal darkness they'd escaped to. Some ponies had taken charge once below ground, keeping morale up as they could, singing or joking to ward off the terror that threatened to engulf them. Most of the ponies' conditions improved once Mac's group showed up, but a lot of damage had clearly already been done. They needed something to steel them for their return to the fight. Mac pondered that as they moved.

Finally, he called a hold. Forty-five ponies stood in the subterranean clearing they’d made- about half of Big Mac’s company. He didn't hold out hope that there were many more still below. He doubted that all of the bunkers had had a chance to dive, and he suspected that several had returned to the surface too early. Even so, Mac knew that he needed every pony he could get.

“Unicorns,” he called into the darkness.

“Sir,” came the unison response.

“Comms,” he called into the darkness.

“Sir,” again in unison.

“Work together. Signal out to meet at our coordinates. Don’t care how you do it.”

“Changelings could pick up on magical frequencies, sir,” came a voice from the darkness- Mac thought it might have been Lyra, one of the ponies from his old hometown.

“Don’t matter. If they can reach us, let ‘em. The rest of us’ll be preparin’. One unicorn will need to give us some light.”

“On it,” came Black Marble’s signature reply.

“Nope. You’re on rest. You been diggin’ longer than anypony else. Won’t have you collapsin’ as soon as we hit the surface.”

“Light’s no issue, major. I knew that magic before all of this started. Nothing worse than running out of light in the mines.”

Mac did not give voice to the thought that running out of air was probably worse. Instead, he allowed Marble to, once again, set the stones to glowing.

Ponies were moving as soon as there was light again. Comms and unicorns got together to start working on a signal while the others started distributing weapons and tending to the wounded more effectively. Mac himself called on a couple of ponies to remount his rifle. He returned the favor before stepping into an unclaimed pair of hoofblades. The metal showed rivulette scars, suggesting that one of the acid orbs was the cause of the weapons’ abandonment. He blew a huff of air out through his nose. He’d make sure to get some ichor on ‘em make up for it.

Mac met with his lieutenants while the other ponies worked, putting together a plan of attack for when they reached the surface. Once their strategy was drawn together, he sent the lieutenants back out to relay the plan to their platoons. Then Mac started around the cave. His face serious, but showing no signs of fear. He knew that his troops were watching him, looking to see if it was time to panic. He made sure that it wasn’t.

A unicorn’s voice rose above the clamor of the other ponies.

“Signal’s out, sir!”

“Good!” Mac called back. The troops turned towards him expectantly.

“What’re ya’ll lookin’ at me for?” Mac asked after a brief pause. He was met with sheepish stares. Then one spoke up.

“Got any words for us, major?” Mac sighed. Speeches were never his thing.

“Don’t know what you expect me to say. Up there’re some critters that killed yer friends. Killed yer comrades. Wanna kill you too. Only thing for it is to kill ‘em first. No illusions, here. We will die. If not today, tomorrow. If not tomorrow, fifty years from now after we’ve told our grand-colts ‘bout how we didn’t die today. Either way, as I see it, we’re dying in the best company. Give those bitches the same opportunity.”

There was a contained woop from one of ponies in the crowd followed by a heavy silence as they waited for the rest of the company to arrive. After the first minute, someone- Lyra by the silver timbre of the voice- started up a song, a ballad from the last war the ponies had fought, hundreds of years ago.

I leave the walls of old Canterlot,
My true love, and my home,
And I go to see the greening fields,
Across the emerald foam, my dear
Across the emerald foam,

The ponies who knew the words joined in, while those who knew the tune hummed.

When I arrived I saw the fields blazing,
The green was riddled with pockets of flame,
And every warrior’s blood that day,
Alit the very same, my dear,
Alit the very same,

The cave they’d created reverberated strikingly, jumbling the voices into a mass of sound that seemed to grow exponentially, taking on a life of its own. Mac would have missed the arrival of the new ponies, had they not immediately joined in the song.

The greening fields have turned to ash,
The emerald sea is red,
And all of those who came with me,
Alas they now are dead, my dear,
Alas they now are dead,

Yet I’ve my helm and shield beside me,
My sword and my armor both girded on,
And you know I’ll take them all down with me,
All through the warrior’s song, my dear,
All through the warrior’s song,

Mac joined in on the last verse, its lyrics sung often by aging earth ponies.

So leave now the walls of Canterlot city,
The green of the fields has come to stay
And I’ve made the gardens here for you pretty,
Across the emerald waves, my dear,
Across the emerald waves,

Yes flowers bloom along my grave,
Bloom for you along my grave,
Across the emerald waves,

The last note of the song hung suspended in the air for a moment. Then Mac gave the call.

“Ponies, formation. Unicorns, bring us up.”