It was hell on Earth once again, and the kaiju today were fighting in force. In the now most total remains of San Francisco, the so-called 'Terran Defenders' were beating the shit out of pretty much every other mutated animal, germ cell, failed science experiment, and otherworldly kaiju out there in existence. Which would not have been much of a problem if the civilian population had actually evacuated like they were supposed to. And that, in the midst of this oversized melee, was where Major Hopkins and the troopers of the 2nd Armored Support Platform Division came in.
He, and everyone else under his command, had volunteered for this particular mission, alongside a few other platoons. They would not be having Jaeger support, only because at this point, a Jaeger would only get torn up faster than bacon in a kennel; and despite the numerous guided missile destroyers out in the bay with Tomahawk cruise missiles ready, bombardment was ill-advised. In short, the thirty men that made up the 'Pale Horsemen' platoon had less than a snowball's chance in hell of surviving. But, as Hopkins was prone to saying, it was better than no chance at all, and so they had gone in. The rescued remnants of three out of six anti-kaiju bunkers also agreed.
One of the many screaming and bloodthirsty kaiju up in the sky cried out for blood, and Hopkins twisted in place as he escorted the latest batch of rescues through the streets. He lifted his arms, the armor plated limbs of his mech doing the same as he aimed the GAU-20/C at the diving gyao. Said cannon fired a 25mm armor piercing, fin stabilized, discarding sabot that was accelerated to roughly Mach four by a series of electromagnetic coils lining the barrels. A normal gyao could shrug off flak shells like they were cotton puffs.
A crossfire of depleted uranium flechettes were something completely different.
The gyao's body was torn to bloody chunks as the remaining members of Bravo Three-One ceased fire, their collective barrels smoking. Below them, the civilians were trying not to scream in panic as the city went to shit around them. "Major, how much further to the RV point?" asked Private James Bowlin as he opened fire at another gyao that was banking towards them.
"Two klicks that way, near the docks!" Hopkins called out. "The rest of Bravo is at Bunker Six, and they should be getting to their RV point in a few minutes!" All of a sudden, the massive scaled form of Anguirus slammed into the ground before them, sending dirt and rubble flying as the utterly minuscule mecha shielded the civilians. The spined kaiju roared as he got back up, the civilians screaming in renewed terror. "Alright, everyone this way!" Hopkins ordered, pointing to a side street that wasn't ruined. One mile of agonizingly slow going later, and Hopkins' radio hissed, static heavy in the air.
"War Dog, this is Sergeant Barnes!"
"Barnes, report, over!" Hopkins replied, crouching down as a beam of crimson energy passed over them, destroying a city block somewhere else as rubble fell to close for comfort.
"Sir, Bunker Six is gone!" Barnes snapped, the telltale rattle of cannon fire coming in from her end. "I'm down to Smith, Hargrove and-FUCK, Casper! NO!"
Hopkins grimaced as he caught sight of their extraction point, the boat just barely large enough for the M45 Lancers and the civilians to huddle onto. If Bunker Six was gone, then it wasn't too much of a stretch to assume that Bunker Three was also gone as well. "Barnes, can you get to the extraction point, over?"
It was a moment before Barnes responded. "Negative sir. We're too far, and there's too much between us. I'm sorry sir."
Hopkins sighed angrily as he looked back, seeing the civilians piling into the boat. "Barnes, our civilians are almost all out of here," the older soldier stated, a stab of fear going through him as a kaiju – he wasn't too sure which one, they all blurred together in his mind for the most part – roared. "Once they're out of here, we're coming to get you!"
"Negative sir, just get those people out of- oh God… ."
"Barnes!" Hopkins shouted, waving the squad to the docks as he turned to look at the ruined city. Mothra and Rodan were flying around, engaged in a dogfight with a few of the larger gyaos while dealing with Gigan and a Hokmuto; Anguirus was fighting a kaiju that Hopkins had probably read about in the briefing, but seeing as he wasn't all that fluent in Japanese, the name escaped him. As for Big G, well… he was busy dealing with fucking Space Godzilla. "Barnes, where the fuck are you, respond, over!"
"It's staring right at us," the Sergeant sobbed, and Hopkins finally spotted the kaiju in question that was looking at her.
The Serizawa Legacy.
Destoroyah.
"Barnes, get the hell out of there NOW!" Hopkins yelled as the dark crimson scaled abomination roared before a sickly purple beam erupted from its mouth, engulfing the entirety of the area the other members of Third Platoon had been holed up. "FUCK! Sergeant Hatake, what's the status on that boat?!"
"All aboard sir!" the platoon sergeant called out, stomping over to him. "Marshall Pentecost just issued a general retreat, all GDF forces are to get out of the city!" Hopkins looked over his surviving troopers with a heavy heart. Their armor plating was dented, almost falling off in Corporal Nikos' case, and he knew that they were all looking forward to getting the hell out of the city. But… that wasn't in his cards.
"I… understand. Sergeant Major Hatake, I'm going to need any ammo and gear you and the kids can spare, there might still be a bunker that needs rescue." Even through radiation hardened hull plating, Hopkins could see Hatake's look of disbelief.
"Sir, the city is lost, there's nothing we can do! The Marshall has already called in the Dimension Tide strike!"
"Then get on the horn with him, and tell him to home in on my signal then," Hopkins said as he reloaded his weapon. "But I will not leave this city until I know for certain that every civilian is accounted for. You get out of here, that's an order." Hatake moved to object… before pulling out his three remaining cannon magazines.
"It has been an honor, Hopkins-shishou." Hatake stopped by the boat, and one by one, the troops all passed along their spare weapons and ammunition. Hopkins smiled sadly as he placed his own cannon on the small of the Lancer's back, an R-12 Heavy Rail Rifle slung onto the left shoulder hard point, and and XDEW-25/P firmly held in his hands. Rounding it all off was the rack of SSM-105 60mm HEAP missiles on Hopkins' right shoulder.
Pulling the charging handle back, Hopkins glanced up at Hatake and nodded. "The honor was mine Hatake-san," he replied. "Now get these people out of here!" The squad saluted him, and Hopkins stopped to return it before turning and jogging back into the fray.
Now, Hopkins was a man of many talents. His talent in piloting the M45 Lancer ASP was one. Another talent that he didn't advertise was his rather considerable psionic abilities. Abilities that came from a rather harsh, kaiju-lacking universe. Strange, how he'd much rather take on an Avatar than an Ante-verse kaiju. All the same, as Hopkins charged into San Francisco, the former XCOM operative let down a portion of the walls surrounding his psyche and let the rush of hatred and fury wash over him. Hopkins sighed in relief.
Hatred he could work with.
"Okay Julian, boot it up," Hopkins said, his off-hand reaching up to flip down his helmet's Augmented Reality Visor. Inside the cockpit, the formerly silent AI huffed.
[So NOW you want me to speak?] Julian griped, the formerly SPARK installed entity fuming as a small adaptor slid down and connected to the neural connector installed on the back of his neck. [You have done very little to justify any faith in you Hopkins.]
"Oh come on now Jul, you know this is much more fun than that time with the Sectopods."
[Oh? You mean the time with the four Sectopods with full armor integrity, and a squad of rookie meatbags?] Hopkins felt the relay connections hook into their slots.
"Yep."
Julian let out an approximation of a sigh. [You were damn lucky that they had you on hand to fuck those things over,] the AI quipped. [Well, initiating Drift in three, two, one… .] With a sudden feeling of nothingness, Hopkins was briefly disconnected from his body before he regained awareness less than a microsecond later. He opened his eyes, and found the various scans, readings, and the hum of the Lancer's mini-reactor humming and purring in time to his body's breathing. [Hopkins, are you well?]
The Lancer chuckled, as a potent ball of psi-energy forming in his metal fist. "Oh, I think I'll be just fine."
[][][]
Los Angeles Shatterdome
Marshall Stacker Pentecost looked at the holographic display in front of him with a calm, dispassionate gaze that betrayed not one bit of the worry he actually felt. Not even minutes ago, he had, with great reluctance, authorized the use of the Dimension Tide weapon up in low Earth orbit, and he had less than half an hour to get what remained of the Global Defense Force's troopers out of the downtown San Francisco area. In front of him, Tendo Choi was checking the status and location of the remaining and operational M45 Lancer ASPs.
"Marshall, 23rd Alpha Platoon is at fourty-six percent capacity," the mission controller stated, "They're too far into the mess to pull out, and considering the gyaos… ."
"Understood Mr. Choi," Stacker replied stoically. "And what about Bravo Platoon?"
"Bravo Platoon is evacuating, heading to… wait a minute sir, I've got a loner here," Tendo said in confusion as he leaned into the microphone. "Bravo Three-One Lead, we have you off course, what's your status, over?"
"Shatterdome, status is green," Major Hopkins reported, the dull roar of a rotary autocannon firing through the radio. "Proceeding to Bunker Three as per mission parameters, over."
Stacker took that moment to step in, his voice dripping in professional annoyance. "Major, you have been ordered to evacuate as per my orders," he stated. "The Dimension Tide weapon will fire, and you will be throwing your life away."
"Better to die trying to save people than living knowing that I didn't," Hopkins retorted simply. "Personally, have that oversized black hole launcher home in on my signal, I'll find them a kaiju to fuck up, over." At this point, everyone in the control was paying attention to the exchange. Stacker sighed quietly.
"… Major, the remaining GDF forces unable to escape in time are rallying at the remains of Bunker Three," he reported. "If you can go over to them and provide assistance for them to evacuate at least some of them safely, you can complete your mission, and get close enough for us to accurately hit the major kaiju."
"…understood Marshall. Moving to that location, over." Tendo looked over at Stacker, the controller confused.
"Marshall, you sure he can do this?" he asked. Stacker nodded solemnly.
"I know he can," the former Jaeger pilot replied. "After all, he's survived this long fighting. If anyone can do this, it's him. That, and his nephew is out there."
"Nephew? What nephew?"
[][][]
Private Clayton Howlett swore as he ducked under the claws of a passing gyaos, the kaiju's talons scratching the paint off the reactor housing on the Lancer's back. Huddled low to the ground, Clay aimed and opened fire, bringing the gyaos down to the ground in a flurry of wings and gore. All around him, remnants of the GDF task force evacuating the city struggled to hold out against the inexorable tide of hungry kaiju. "Sarge, we're losing ground here!"
Close by, Sergeant Patricia 'Hellfire' Clarke brought a gyaos down to the ground. It shrieked, about to send off a lance of sonic energy when her bayoneted cannon slammed into its throat. "I know!" she called out, yanking the cannon out. "But we're stuck here until the Marshall's reinforcements come in!" Clay twisted in place, putting down fire on an incoming Super Gyaos alongside Privates Romanov, Kowalski, and Vickers.
Clay's life flashed before his eyes as the Super Gyaos opened its mouth, neck vibrating in preparation for a sonic stream of death… only for its left wing to be blown off at the shoulder, making it shriek in agony. "The fuck-?" Kowalski uttered as the Gyaos began falling, revealing another Lancer plummeting through the air behind it, an R-12 in hand. The small team of Lancers were about to panic at the sight of their falling brother in arms when a pair of violet-white wings sprang into existence, slowing the Lancer's descent just enough to make a small crater on landing.
"The hell are you?" Clarke asked, pointing her cannon at the newcomer. The newcomer's wings faded out of existence, the six meter tall mech rolling its shoulders in discomfort. Clay eyed his HUD's IFF tags and paled at the rank hovering next to the newcomer's name.
"Major Hopkins, Bravo Platoon," he answered. "Also XCOM Field Commander, but that ain't important right now. Now, what's the sitch Sergeant?"
Clarke waved the team over to follow her as they hustled to the bunker. "Pretty bad sir," she replied. "Colonel Forrest is KIA, and just about every other officer too. We've got what's left of Alpha, Charlie, and Echo Platoons on site, Delta's gone sir. As far as everything else, we've got a couple of 92's still in the fight, a full two squads of the 93's, and we're down to using those Strykers and Humvees as our interference. Infantry's trying to fortify the bunker entrance as best they can, but with all the Gyaos flying around, well-"
A trio of dead kaiju hit the pavement.
"You get the idea sir." Hopkins nodded as he and the others rounded a corner, and he saw how bad it was in person. All the vehicles were in banged up condition, and that was being polite. Besides the aforementioned MASER tanks and IFVs, Hopkins could see a pair of M1A1 Abrams MBTs providing limited support, firing their cannons up in the air to nail the normal gyaos out of the sky.
"Sergeant, how many civilians are left?" Hopkins asked, handing the plasma weapon on his back to Kowalski, the private immediately putting it to use blasting a small… something to fleshy bits. Clarke shook her head.
"About twenty sir," she replied. "We had more earlier, but we tried to evac about a dozen of them in a Stryker… they didn't make it even four blocks before the gyaos got them sir. With the radio on."
Behind Hopkins, Clay shuddered at the memory. Hearing the screams of the crew and civilians… the wet, messy tearing of flesh… . Shaking his head, the Lancer pilot looked up and pointed, panicked. "Hyper Gyaos incoming!"
As one, every single barrel not already pointed up swiveled and aimed at the massive, ninety meter bat-like kaiju descending from the sky. It was only a minor note that this Gyaos was, unlike the other rust-brown ones, stark white. It only made it easier to take aim and fire. But at the same time, the Hyper Gyaos opened its maw, and a stream of sonic energy hit the ground in a swooping curve, bisecting several unlucky Lancers and an MBT-92, the vehicles simply falling to pieces where they laid. The albino screeched as the various anti-tank munitions peppered its hide, hovering in place like a vengeful god before Clay saw a flash of purple at the edge of his vision where Hopkins stood.
Which meant that he was completely caught unaware by the shockingly massive lance of dark, violet energy that flew from the fist of Hopkins, right through the albino, and outright killed each and every gyaos that the beam touched. "Holy SHIT!" Clay said as he watched the dead kaiju drop, the albino screaming in pain as it flew off. Almost immediately, Hopkins went to work.
"Echo, get those civvies in a Stryker and escort them the hell out of here to the Alameda RV point! Bad Mother, you'll be rear guard for them, I want these people out of here now!" he ordered, pointing at the units in question as Godzilla roared in fury, Xenilla matching it in timbre. Clarke nodded as she reloaded her cannon.
"You all heard him, get moving!" she barked. "I ain't giving these fuckers more bat bait, now move it out!" The survivors scrambled to comply, the ground beginning to shudder greatly as the more massive kaiju began to drift ever closer to their position. By the entrance to the ruined bunker, the surviving civilians all piled into a pair of Stryker ICVs, with only a trio of them still outside arguing. Private Austin Bailey of Echo crouched down next to them, his optics swiveling to focus down on them.
"You need to get on now!" he said loudly, pointing at the Stryker's open hatch. The oldest of the three turned to glare at Bailey angrily.
"Not when there's only room for two!" he shouted, pointing inside before looking back at the other adult. "Elle, get in there!"
"Joe, I can't, I won't let you-" the woman shouted before the child next to her screamed, pointing at the sky. Bailey followed the kid's finger and swore as a gyaos dived towards them, an MBAW-93 firing its MASER cannons at it. The Lancer pilot quickly placed his targeting reticle over the kaiju, and thumbed the lock on button. A scant second later, his second to last SSM-88 missile launched from his shoulder mounted rack, and flew almost directly into its mouth. The resulting explosion was just powerful enough to blow the bat-like kaiju's head apart, as the door to the Stryker closed, leaving the last three civilians out as the armored vehicles swiftly sped off.
"Hey, what gives you jackass?!" Bailey yelled, standing up angrily as Joe urged his daughter in law and grandson to take cover back in the bunker. The pilot watched as his platoon, or rather, what was left of it, was running point for the two fleeing Strykers and Abrams as they drove down 14th Avenue. "Hey, wait the soddin' hell up!" Bailey barked, taking a step towards the convoy in concern.
The convoy rounded the corner of 14th and East 21st when the albino came swooping back in, a small swarm of lesser gyaos trailing behind. Sadly, the MASER AA cannons weren't able to stop them.
The convoy didn't stand a chance as Bailey's friends were plucked from the ground, struggling in vien as they were flung up into the air. The Strykers, once mobile shelters, were now macabre cans of food for the gyaos as they all greedily swarmed over them.
"Huddle in, huddle in!" Hopkins shouted, his distorted voice echoing across the battle scarred hellscape as the gyaos swarm soon lifted off. "Keep these bastards off as long as you can!" The remained GDF soldiers complied grimly, firing and covering each other as best as they could. The ruined hospital behind them provided only the barest of protection from the incoming gyaos, and it was a terror stricken ten minutes before the massive form of Godzilla was slammed into the building. A half dozen Lancers, a full squad of MBAW-93s, and an Abrams were crushed by the falling debris, and the remaining infantry and civilians were pouring out of what remained to get the hell away from the King of the Monsters.
Hopkins was surprised at the sight of the kaiju, and swiftly switched his radio into the command channel. "Marshall, we've got- "
WARNING! DIMENSION TIDE TARGET LOCK ACHIEVED! FIRING MAIN CANNON IN THIRTY SECONDS!
The message played on all frequencies as Hopkins watched in horror as Godzilla stood up, snarling at the advancing form of Xenilla emerged through the smoke, navy-blue scales appearing almost black in the setting dusk. Behind it, Mothra and Rodan were attempting to fly towards Godzilla to help him, Destoroyah in the way. Anguirus was behind them, charging at Xenilla as he roared. The Lieutenant Colonel lowered his rifle, his body relaxing.
"Sir, orders?" Private Howlette asked, on the verge of panic. Hopkins looked over to him, and rested a hand on the other ASP's shoulder.
"We go out with a bang," he stated, pulling the R-12 off his back. "All forces, open up on Xenilla! Everything you've got!" If the offending kaiju was offended at the pitiful fusillade of firepower that peppered his hide, he didn't show it as he prepared to fire a Corona Beam, Godzilla preparing his own Atomic Breath in retaliation.
And then, an incomprehensible blackness swallowed them whole as the Dimension Tide fired.
[][][]
The greater part of downtown Oakland was wiped clean off the surface of the planet, taking with it six of the most powerful Kaiju on Earth, and over a hundred soldiers and civilians. When the Dimension Tide had fired, the remaining entirety of Task Force 185 had managed to sail off thirteen miles off the coast. In Los Angeles, Marshall Pentecost hung his head in shame over what he had done. All over the world, people would either mourn the loss of such kaiju as Mothra, or go out and celebrate the apparent deaths of both Xenilla and Godzilla himself.
But, as Hopkins had learned the hard way now three times over, shit sometimes didn't work the way you would think it would.
Matter cannot be created or destroyed, a basic and inviolable law of the universe. It could only be moved, displaced, shifted into energy, or turned into a different state. The odds of all four events happening at once were so low as to be negligible.
Hopkins had some pretty shitty luck.
[][][]
It was the incessant droning of the Lancer's internal alarm that roused Hopkins from unconsciousness. "Kuso," he muttered, shaking his head slowly as he cracked his eyes open. Flipping his helmet's visor up, Hopkins saw that the majority of the screens inside the ASP were dark, with only scattered status reports on display. "Julian? You still online buddy?"
[Yes, fortunately for you,] the AI retorted, his own voice distorted slightly. [You're fine by the way. Only a mild concussion, some bruised ribs and a cracked femur when we got shit out by that black hole. Currently, your body decided to heal up just fine. Dick.] Hopkins laughed weakly as he unlatched himself from his combat harness, reaching for the emergency manual release buttons.
"Then we're not dead then," he commented. "What about the ASP? Anything I can't see on system?"
[Negative. I'm working on rebooting the software, should take a few minutes.]
"Thanks Jules, I'm heading out," Hopkins said, just as the chest hatch opened up with a hiss. The cries of birdsong cut through the air as Hopkins stepped out of the cockpit, the experienced soldier reflexively pulling up his MAG Carbine as he did so. He had originally wanted to see if he could try and find any survivors of the attack. He didn't need to look far.
All across the open field, the remaining survivors were sprawled out, some of them still out cold while others were still getting their bearings. The sole remaining Abrams was on its side, thankfully in no worse shape that it had been before the Dimension Tide fired. As for the MBT-92, well, it was not in one piece, the MASER battery torn clean off and resting on the ground meters away, connected only by thick cables supplying power and coolant.
Other than that, the remaining vehicles were in fairly decent shape, and Hopkins quickly spotted Sergeant Clarke outside of her ASP, directing soldiers and one of the civilians around. Slinging his carbine back, Hopkins approached her, reaching up to unclasp the strap of his helmet, noting the morning sun approaching noon above him. Spotting him, Clarke turned to face him and saluted. "Sir!"
"As you were Sergeant," Hopkins told her, returning the salute. Clarke relaxed as Hopkins removed his helmet. The soft hiss of a broken helmet seal was the only warning as his face was revealed to the morning air. It was a shock to those who really knew how young he looked at first glance, as his face was, superficially at the least, something that belonged to a man in his late twenties, rather than the sixty-three year old combat veteran that he was. Brown hair cropped close to his scalp was the basic frame to graying hazel eyes, and a most certainly non-regulation beard hung on Hopkins' chin like a very determined tick. "So, how many of us are left, do you know yet?"
Clarke sighed as she waved an arm behind her. "Well, estimate is about a hundred and fifteen of us, give or take," she told him. "We've got plenty of armor, and the radar Hummer is fine, but we're pretty much fucked on everything else as far as I know. Ammo's low, fuel's bad for everything with a motor, not enough food, and if something breaks, we can't fix it."
"So, SNAFU?"
Clarke nodded. "SNAFU."
Hopkins sighed as he ran a gloved hand through his hair. "Alright, well, since we don't know where the hell we are, and since we're clearly not dead, I'm enacting BLACK JACK Protocol. As the ranking officer, I'll be assuming command of everyone here as a consolidated task force," he explained, looking over the slowly awaking and recovering soldiers and civilians. "Sergeant Clarke, you're getting promoted. I want every wounded man, woman, and kid in a Humvee, and I want a complete list of what we've got before we commit to any rash actions. Understood Lieutenant?"
Clarke blinked in surprise before recomposing herself professionally. "Y-Yes sir, understood," she replied. "What about you sir? What are you going to do?" Hopkins chuckled as he slipped his helmet back on.
"Well, we can't just sit here in enemy territory without knowing the best ways to get the fuck out now, can we?" he asked her rhetorically. "Now let's see here… Howlett, Bailey, Ramirez, get your asses over here! You're coming with me!"
In moments, the three Lancer pilots jogged over to him, E-40C laser rifles in hand, the spare power packs hanging off the Velcro straps of their chest armor. "What do you need us to do sir?" Corporal Ramirez asked, his sunglasses hanging off his neck on a lanyard. Hopkins lifted his MAG rifle, tapping a fresh magazine against his helmet.
"Recon," he answered blithely as he looked at Clarke. "Lieutenant, you're in command until I return, or I contact you over comms saying otherwise. Copy?"
"Yes sir," the newly promoted officer confirmed, nodding back. Silently, the four Lancer pilots checked their gear one last time before picking a direction and marching off.
[][][]
Onyx Wing was panting in exhaustion as she flew through the air. The past few hours had been hectic for all Guards today, what with Empress Daybreaker getting injured by that 'Gaw-zilla' freak, and then even more of them appearing within the borders of Equestria itself. The briefing that she and her team had gotten from Captain Shining Armor had not eased her worries. A flash of light from the farmland just under Canterlot, but right on the border of the forests of the Unicorn Range, had sent the experienced Guardspony on edge, and in short, well… .
She and three others were out scouting the edges of the forest. Banking alongside a thermal, Onyx gained altitude for a better vantage point when she saw more than a few somethings glisten in the sun. Curious, Onyx debated on whether or not to go back and alert Sergeant Silver Sprint about this before shaking her head. No harm in one little peek, she thought. After all, what's a little visual confirmation going to do, kill-
A flash of light blinked from the ground, and Onyx had only enough time to realize something was wrong when something snapped by her head, the sound of thunder following a mere moment later. "Faust!" she swore, tucking her wings in for a sheer dive as more somethings flew through the airspace she had just vacated. Just before she hit the treeline, she snapped her wings out, pulling up just in time to merely skim over the tops of the trees. Zooming off, she flew to where Sergeant Silver Sprint, Twilight Thunder, and Lunar Spice were waiting for her.
"Onyx, what's-?" Silver started before Onyx cut the bright grey pony off.
"I don't know!" the Pegasus gasped breathlessly, shaking as she landed. "I was heading west by southwest when I saw something shine in the sun! I was going to get a closer look, and-and… ." Onyx stopped talking, the normally talkative pony shaken. Lunar Spice, the team's resident medic, looked over at Silver in surprise as she cast a basic diagnostic spell over her teammate.
"Spice, what's up with Onyx?" Twilight Thunder asked, the dusk furred earth pony growing tenser by the second as he looked around the forest clearing with a paranoid eye. Lunar Spice let the spell run its course before making her statement.
"She's in mild shock," she reported. "Nothing that a little rest afterwards can't fix. Now, Onyx, I need you to help us out here," she added softly, placing a comforting hoof on her friend's shoulder. "What do you remember?" Onyx took a deep breath as she tried to calm down.
"I was flying at approximately alicorn four when I saw something metallic five miles from this position," Onyx reported, her shaking body shaking less and less as she spoke. "I… made the call to investigate when a heard something just snap right by my head," she motioned with her hoof going by mere inches from her muzzle. "I… there must have been at least dozens down there… ."
Silver Sprint was about to ask for more information when Twilight Thunder grunted, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the foliage in front of him. Like the well trained machine that they were, the Guardsponies took position, Onyx brewing up a microstorm in front of her as Lunar Spice readied another spell.
"Who goes there?" Silver Sprint called out with as much authority as he could muster in his voice. A moment passed as the quartet wondered if they were merely going insane before another quartet of… somethings came out of the brush like ghosts.
Onyx had to gasp in muted surprise as the unknowns stepped out. They were all bipeds, like minotaurs, but that was where the similarities ended. They were all far slimmer than a minotaur, so to speak, once you took off what was obviously body armor off of them. Clad in a mottled collection of forest green and stark grey garb, each of their faces was hidden by an expressionless visor with four small holes on the face; the only exception was the one in the back, with the snarling visage of a wolf's skull emblazoned on the front. On top of that, they all carried strange, boxy weapons in their hands. They weren't crossbows, but that didn't mean that Onyx, or anypony else, was going to let down their guard.
"Identify yourself!" Silver Sprint ordered again, lowering his lance at the bipeds. "This is your final warning!"
A pause went through the air.
"…Sir… the silver horse is talking," one of the bipeds said, disbelief obvious in his? voice. Silver Sprint noted that their leader slowly shook its head.
"Private, they are ponies," their leader deadpanned, lowering its weapon. Taking the cue, the others did so as well, leaving the Guardsponies standing there in wariness. Stepping forward, Wolf Face stopped several paces away and nodded. "I am Major Hopkins, 2nd ASP Division. With whom am I speaking?"
Silver Sprint slowly stepped forward himself. "I am Sergeant Silver Sprint of the Canterlot Royal Guard," he answered, lowering his lance. "What brings you to Equestria? Are you in any way connected to the… Lunar Spice, what did they call themselves again?"
"Kaiju?" Hopkins deadpanned. Silver Sprint, and the other ponies, flinched at the unexpected question. Hopkins sighed. "Yeah, we came in with them," the human continued. "Speaking of, do you know where they went? In fact, where's the nearest calamity?"
"Umm, Lunar Spice, can you get in contact with the Empress, tell her we, uhh, have more guests?" Silver Sprint asked his subordinate hesitantly. "Major, in matter of fact, the Kaiju did – " The sudden ch-CHACK of readied weapons was Silver Sprint's only clue that the tables had turned, as he now had the end of a metal barrel poking him in the face.
"Empress?" Hopkins asked coldly. "What Empress?"
"E-Empress D-Daybreaker," Onyx Wing said, the storm she had prepared dissolving into thin air. "Please, just, surrender now while you can, it'll be easier on all of us, just, please!" she begged. Silver Sprint was about to retort angrily when he suddenly frozen in place by a cobalt blue and violet aura. His eyes trailed the faint connection of the powerful magic and widened as he saw Hopkins effortlessly hold him place, his weapon still in hand as he squeezed a box on his chest.
"Hellfire, do you copy, over?"
"This is Hellfire, 10-2, over."
"Hellfire, this is a PRIORITY message, I say again, PRIORITY message, how copy over?"
"Roger War Dog, PRIORITY confirmed. Continue with message, over." Hopkins looked over the uniforms of the ponies in front of him.
"Hellfire, we are in Equestria, governing body is Empress Daybreaker," he stated, nodding his head towards the Guardsponies. Wordlessly, the other three beings stepped forward and relieved Silver Sprint's troops of their weapons. "Assume all Guards to be hostile, over."
"Wait, repeat that part about the empress?"
Hopkins took a deep breath and sighed. "Hellfire, Princess Celestia has gone rogue. If alicorn is sighted, do not engage under any circumstances. Evade at all costs, over."
"…understood sir. We're packing everything in sir. Moving out in ten, over."
"Copy. War Dog out." Releasing the box, Hopkins popped his neck as he let go of Silver Sprint. "Now, you and I are going to have a nice little talk."
"You can't make me!" Silver Sprint snarled. "You've already captured my subordinates, torture them!" Onyx Wing, Lunar Spice, and Twilight Thunder all gaped at their Sergeant in stunned silence. Each of the three all knew on basic instinct that Hopkins' eyes narrowed behind his visor. One of the enemy soldiers snarled, raising his weapon in fury.
"Sir, let's waste this fucker right now!" he snarled. Hopkins waved him down, slinging his weapon to his back as he formed a ball of roiling energy in his hand.
"Not now Bailey," Hopkins stated. "You three, escort these ponies out of the area. Make sure they can't see anything. Sergeant Sprint and I will be having a chat." The three other soldiers all looked at each other, sensing just how this 'chat' was going to go.
"Alright, ya heard him, get moving," Bailey commanded, poking Twilight Thunder with the barrel of his weapon to get him moving. "And Miss Wing, don't bother flying. We'll ground you before you get above the treeline. Onyx Wing believed it. Hopkins gave them a few moments before he focused his attentions back on Silver Sprint.
"Now, you may not want to talk. That's fine by me," he said, the energy orb in his hand growing visibly darker. "Fortunately, I don't really need you to want me in your head." Silver Sprint snorted as he rolled his eyes at Hopkins.
[Because I already am.]
Silver Sprint had only enough time to see the wolf skull on the enemy's visor come to life before his eyes before he screamed.
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Twilight Sparkle, faithful student of Empress Daybreaker, sighed as she stepped off the train. She supposed that she could relax like she was supposed to, but… it was the Grand Sun Celebration soon, and the scrolls did say that the Mare in the Moon was supposed to return and cause havoc to Equestria if not stopped. "Twi, do you really need this much ink and paper?" Spike asked, the young dragon clearly struggling to hold up the sheer mountain of office supplies in his claws as he exited the back of the train.
"Spike, you know how important this is," Twilight reprimanded. "After all, if the Mare in the Moon does appear, then we need to document it for Empress Daybreaker! Not to mention investigate that weird glow we saw on the train coming here!" Spike rolled his eyes as he trudged along, following close behind her.
"Well, let me know when we get to our new place, your stuff is heavy as Faust!"
"Spike!" Twilight exclaimed, whirling about to look at her assistant-slash-little brother in shock. "Language!"
"Why?" came the response from behind the moving pile of ink and paper. "Not like there's anyone outside right now who'd be offended." Twilight would have continued to scold him had she not realized that he was right. Despite it being midday, and the most productive part of the day, hardly anypony was outside getting the celebration ready.
"Huh, that's odd," Twilight remarked, just as she spotted a pony walking down the road. "Hey, umm, excuse me, can you tell me-"
"SHHHHHHH!" the pony hissed, suddenly warping in to press a hoof against Twilight's mouth. "Come with me if you want to not get beaten by the guards!"
The Canterlot born and bred pony only had one thing to say as she and Spike were dragged into a building.
"W'ah?"
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Once upon a time, in the land of Equestria, two sisters ruled the land; the eldest raised the sun at dawn, and the younger the moon at dusk. One day however, the eldest, tired of the rules and laws that bound her, sought to use the Elements of Harmony to gain absolute power over Equestria. The younger princess stood against her sister, pleading for her to stop and think of the ponies under their rule.
In her anger, the eldest cast her sister away, sealing her into the moon. Now, she awaits release on the longest day of the one thousandth year of her imprisonment. Equestria remains under the rule of the tyrannical Empress Daybreaker. A band of rebels, spies, and ponies desperate for hope strive to unlock the means to defeat their oppressor.
What neither side counted on were the kaiju.
Or the Pale Horsemen that followed.
[[[Credits]]]
Original 'Bridge' Concept and Development – Tarbtano
Godzilla, Mothra, Rodan, and all affiliated properties and trademarks – Toho Studios
Gamera, Gyaos, and all related trademarks – Daiei Studios
XCOM: Enemy Unknown/Within, XCOM 2 – 2K and Firaxis Studios
MLP: FiM, and all related characters and trademarks – Hasbro
Pacific Rim, and all related trademarks - Legendary Pictures and Warner Bros. Pictures
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