And here we are again, my little readers.
And I know I've been lax in my promise for three weeks. What can I say, things have been busy near the end. Unfortunately, this does cut into my plans a little. All I can really say is that, thanks to my schedule, this will only leave me with one more chapter, if I can get it done.
But I will most definitely -try- to get it done.
And now, RESPONSES!
DoctorWhooves: close enough, my friend. But its not quite that simple. Griffons are more a mix of Asia and the Mediterranean countries, Equestria is several different English speaking nations, and while the dogs act and perform like both Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union, some of their culture is based on Canada (mostly the names, really).
Numbah six-sixtysix: yes, it's going to turn into one of those wars. Because at some point, it -always- becomes one of those wars. I wanted the setup to be like a combination of WW1, WW2, the Cold War and the War in Iraq. A little bit of economic problems, some conflicting ideologies, a desperate defense, sheer arrogance, "preservation" and, of course, simple imperialistic greed.
As for Gilda, let's just say the conflicts between the branches stretch far more deeply and aggressively in the Matriarchy than in our own militaries. Enough that people would be willing to suggest stupid things.
Red Mark: it's a Canid political party that stresses cooperation with the world rather than taking an isolationist or militaristic point of view. Hence, why I chose them to be our socialists, ones who want -everyone- to live as they do.
The Socialist: a shame, really. Revolutions always seem to go sour in our world after a few years. But perhaps I can change that here.
paxtofettel: I blame both on my exhaustion that night. Sorry, man. Writing is hard work.
TheStarsAbove: I'm glad you decided to publicly join us, but a little saddened that you joined just as I'm about to leave. Ah, well. You'll have plenty to look over while I'm gone. Thank you for your support.
CommanderRy: trust me, its even confusing to me when I try to keep it all in my head. That's why I've written down outlines, plot ladders, development cycles. Yeah, this is a big thing for me, in case you haven't realized.
Flyinpenguin117: all i can say is this: you'll see...
And now, on to the-
Wait a minute, wait a minute. I just wanted to give another shoutout to both you guys and the readers on EQD. I wanted to thank you all so much for all the support and good reviews and positive emotion you've all given me, and I apologize once more for skipping out on you for three weeks while I went to play with the National Guard. So thank you!
Ceasefire
Chapter 6: Luna Eclipsed Pt. 1
Akal, Kush Region
Central Hippogryph
One Week Later
Akal was like many other cities out in the wilds of Hippogryph. It had simply sprouted up out of nowhere, as if it were one of the plants instead of a large collection of buildings and species, and the comparison might actually make sense with its flow of traffic and hum of energy being the equivalent of a pulse and heartbeat, respectively. It had also followed the staple for such rapid growth, mainly being the heavy amounts of ore in this area guiding in miners by the hundreds, leading to hangers-on and settler trains finding a place here, in the city at the top of the mesa, living off of providing (or stealing) from the prospectors and mining companies. Unfortunately, this meant that the place spilled over the edges, spreading out into the valley below, shacks and houses covering the mountainside, literally bolted into the side of the mesa on support struts. Where the excitement and thrill went, poverty and crime were sure to follow, as evident by the fact that Akal had one of the largest crime rates in the world, a veritable underworld that was practically untouchable by modern society and progressive law. This was, quite truly, a city still caught in the throes of oppression and fear.
But these things were only observed from Frost's mind at a factual distance as he and Boxer gently pushed through the crowds, attempting to find their way through. Boxer's contact was somewhere around this city, the dog had said, and it was up to them to sift through the poor, bedraggled crowds and find her. All around them, merchants called out their wares, various scents and sounds drifting from their stalls and shops. It was full rush-hour time right now, and no one was surprised to see two dogs pushing their way through the crowds, not when the area was rife with diamond dog activity. Of course, the two black ops soldiers would never pass for diamond dogs upon close inspection.
They were too clean.
But the dirty vests they wore and the fact that they barely concealed their handguns helped to maintain the illusion that they were simply a pair of no-good criminals stalking the streets, or going to an 'appointment' or even just miners going to dinner. At the very least, they'd avoid attention from the official authorities, what few were in this city. This was primarily why this area had been chosen for the meeting, seeing as such a small town didn't have any Ground Forces patrolling it, and the local police were lax and inattentive.
As they passed from the marketplace into an alleyway, Frost leaned in and muttered "Tell me about this contact of yours."
"She only goes by the name 'Hook.' Very prospective arms dealer and information seller. Very clever too," Boxer replied, glancing around at the numerous signs above them detailing various shops and businesses in the floors over their heads. "She's an ex-Legionnaire, and we can't pull up any personal information on her or anymore on her past. Completely covered her tracks for now. But it's only a matter of time."
Suddenly, Boxer turned, pushing through a thick, rusted door as he moved inside, prompting Frost to follow, leaving the grimy alley behind to be replaced by the gloomy interior of a warehouse, filled with packing crates and shelving to hold them. Occasionally, a flash of light would streak down from a window above, the ones that weren't caked in grime and dirt.
"This is Hook's place? Not very smart, leaving all her product sitting in the middle of town with no security."
"They're fakes," Boxer explained quietly, glancing at the shelves carefully. "She keeps only a little product on hand at any time. But all these boxes prompt the authorities to search the shelves when they pursue. It buys some time."
Frost nodded, mildly impressed by the ruse. From what he'd heard in just the last few minutes, it sounded as though Boxer had chosen well after all, which allayed Frost's worries. A little. Suddenly a flash of movement caught his eye, a quick motion from one aisle to another. He might have just imagined it, but Frost decided not to take any chances, turning and drawing his magnum, only for Boxer to push the weapon down with a paw.
"Easy," the captain muttered, glancing around warily. "Don't try anything. We'll be dead before we got to the door."
"Just how well do you know this woman? It sounds like you have her MO nailed down, but I don't want to leave anything to chance."
"Let's just say that sometimes, it's better to go to the ones who can't be tracked so easily. She'll get what we need, and she'll do it quietly." Boxer shook his head, immediately discarding the conversation as if it were water to be shaken out of his ears. "Anyway, what does it matter? We're here to do business, not investigate her or start a riot. Come on, Ice Dagger."
The two soldiers finally picked their way out of the shelves without incident, emerging on the other side in a large, wide open area devoid of anything save for a table and three chairs. A window overhead was open, casting a beam of light down on the three sets of furniture, bare save for a single manila folder on the top of the table. Frost frowned, but Boxer had been calling it right so far, and knew that if anything happened to him, the mission would be in good paws. Still, he got the sense that all of this was overly dramatic, like some stupid spy movie from the televisions.
They sat down, Frost expecting Hook to emerge from the shadows like some melodramatic villain coming in to monologue over their victims while the hired goods moved in from all sides. Instead, however, the two had to wait for several minutes before another door, on the other side of the warehouse, flew open, admitting a large, shadowy figure into the structure, followed by two more just like the first…and judging from her tone, the mood wasn't great.
"I've already told you lugs, either you keep them in line or I'm taking the cost of those mercs out of your organs and selling them on the market! No go do what I pay you to and make damn –sure- the Praetors don't catch wind of them!"
With a sense of finality, the griffon slammed the door in her goons' faces, huffing as she stalked into the warehouse on her rear legs, wings stretching and folding in irritation. She had all the earmarks of a soldier about her, from her walking stance and straight poise to the general way her arms swung at her sides, as if she was about to break into a parade march at any moment.
"Major Hound, how very nice to see you," she called out as she closed the distance. "I've been having an irritating week. It's about time I made –one- sale that I knew wouldn't blow up in my face."
"I'm afraid it's Captain now, Hook," Boxer replied as he leaned forward onto his elbows. Hook finally stepped into the light, and Frost took but a moment to study her over. A wicked scar across her face was concealed by the eyepatch over her right eye, telling that her discharge from the Legion wasn't quite voluntary. Strong wings twitched, folded along her back, ready to spring open at the slightest sign of a threat. She was still well built and sturdy, with several other scars cutting through her fur and feathers, though her overall appearance still well groomed and presentable. Obviously, she hadn't let herself go since she had left the armed forces.
"My apologies. You must have done something that couldn't be covered up."
"More like couldn't control it."
It was, at this point, that the griffon glanced over at Frost, frowning in suspicion. "You didn't mention you'd be bringing a guest, Hound. I don't need the Hegemony hunting me down as well like I'm some rabbit to be chased for dinner."
Frost scowled at that, not appreciating the insinuation that he was some kind of spy, but stayed quiet. This was Boxer's show, and he was playing by the rules so far.
"The Major is only here because he's in command of the operation. But we find ourselves in…interesting circumstances."
"Do you ever come to me when you're –not- Hound?" Hook replied, a smirk on her face as she too took a seat, flipping open the manila folder before her and perusing the contents, laying aside sheets of paper as she read them. The minutes stretched out, and Frost spotted another flash of movement in the dark around them. His eyes narrowed, and his paw twitched, but he left his service magnum alone. After all, this was Hook's ground. Might as well let her keep as much security as she thought she needed.
Finally, Hook reached the last page, flipping it over to join the rest of its companions before she closed the folder, saying nothing, her face blank. But Frost wasn't fooled at all, she had probably already reviewed the file and was simply doing this for show, to gauge their reactions and allow her to weigh that into her decision making. It was a game he'd played before with other contractors as well as Black Ops recruits, making sure he had everything in order. And Hook played the game very well, making it all seem quite natural.
"Hound, you realize what you're asking me to do, right?"
"Sixty contractors with light vehicle support isn't much more than what I've asked you for in the past.
"WITH standard issue Legionnaire equipment for all of them. And two Featherweights? Hound, you must not realize what you're asking of me."
Boxer shrugged, considering her words before nodding and replying "I'm asking you to put forward most of your heavy property and government-issue weapons for a deal in which you may possibly not only be traced and hunted down, but also one that will maybe have far-reaching consequences."
"Damn straight!" Hook growled, smacking the table with her fist, talons clacking off the tabletop. "I don't normally ask my clients what they do with the mercenaries I hire out, but knowing you, this is some serious shit. I'm going to need something else to make it all worthwhile."
Boxer finally got up off his elbows, crossing his arms over his chest, a brow raised. "And that would be?"
"Just what the hell you and those wolf assholes outside the city are up to. Gyrodyne heavy transports, stealth gear, -and- sixty griffon mercenaries with an airmobile halftrack tank? The Hegemony's planning something big, and it's either going to happen in Hippogryph or in Equestria. So why don't you tell me what I want to know, and maybe we all go away with our chances of survival a little bit higher."
"Negative," said Frost, finally interjecting. "The captain has revealed more information about this op than I authorized him, but the fact of the matter is that it is still Top Secret, need to know." The Catahoula Cur leaned forwards, narrowing his eyes as he stared directly into Hook's own. "And you –don't- need to know."
Abruptly, the soldier turned criminal stood, fast enough and with enough force to send her chair tumbling over backwards. In the corner of his eye, Frost spotted more activity in the shadows, but he didn't back down.
"Then we have no business, Major," Hook snapped, turning the rank into more of an insult. Neither one back down, glaring at each other heavily for several seconds before Frost felt a paw on his shoulder, gently but insistently pushing him back.
"Ice Dagger. This is how things are done. In high profile ops like this, you need to give a little to get a little."
Frost glanced over at Boxer, a hackle raised as he prepared himself to bark at his teammate for insubordination and compromising the mission. However, just as he was about to let it loose, his lip lowered, and he took a deep breath to calm himself. He'd let his anger flare, let his composure break. That didn't happen often. This was Boxer's element, and he was getting himself frustrated. He should trust that Boxer wouldn't compromise the mission. Sighing, he sat back, gesturing for his teammate to continue.
"All yours, Berzerker."
Boxer stood, leaning in to bring himself to eye level with Hook.
"I recommend you stay as far away from the border as possible. Go to Istanbeak, Zebrabwe, the Viperian Confederacy, Prance, -anywhere- but around here. I guarantee you, within the next year; this place will either be in ruins or filled with ponies."
Ponyville
Nightmare Night
Though the festivities wouldn't be kicking off until the evening, Ponyville still wore the garish and ghoulish decorations commonly associated with the Equestrian holiday, the celebration of all things scary as well as the modern form of the ancient ritual to keep away Nightmare Moon. Masks and scary faces, insects and other forms of scare-tacular dotted the town, across the booths and through the trees. Even Ponyville HQ was feeling the holiday cheer, with spider webs and scary signs decorating the barracks and mess halls. One of the Knights had even been found parked in front of the police station with what looked to be blood smeared on its treads and the front, a false severed head dangling from the cannon's barrel. Fortunately, the red liquid was simply paint, but the crew received a thorough dressing down and were ordered to clean it up…but not before Colonel Di'ac ordered a photo to be taken of the battlewagon before it was scrubbed down.
As Short trotted alongside his squad, listening to their hooves hit the ground in unison, he could feel in the air that winter was coming. The Weather Team had already begun casting in colder winds to encourage the plants to begin the next cycle, and most of the birds had already flown south for the winter. Rumor was, the new autumn camouflage uniforms and body armor would be coming in soon, prompting an immediate re-equip of all forces and the reapplication of camouflage paint to the Defender steamwagons and Knights patrolling the countryside and ferrying soldiers around (even though by the time the uniforms arrived, it would probably be time to switch to winter camouflage). It had only been a week so far, but the Army had so far managed to integrate itself nicely to Ponyville, and the troopers and steamwagons patrolling the streets were no longer a source of the many stares that had plagued their first few days.
But matters like that could be attended to later. As Ponyville came up once more on the horizon, Short trotted forward to put himself up at the front-left of the group, looking over the squad. Every morning, it was the same thing; get up and go trot for almost a full hour and come back, all with twenty-pound saddlebags on. The other fifty soldiers in the platoon were trotting in unison nearby as well, watched carefully by their sergeants. But it wasn't in silence, no.
"SERGEANT STOP!" called Lieutenant Roseluck, up at the head of the group, leading the exercise. "TAKE THE CALL!"
"Call to me!" Short replied, taking over order of the cadence, quickly pulling one from his mind, a popular rhyme Sergeant Gunn had liked to use when they were out in file.
"Up in the mornin', outta the rack!" he called out.
"UP IN THE MORNIN', OUTTA THE RACK!" the entire platoon replied.
"Greeted at dawn with an early attack!"
"GREETED AT DAWN WITH AN EARLY ATTACK!"
"The Sergeant rushes me off to chow!"
"THE SERGEANT RUSHES ME OFF TO CHOW!"
"But I don't eat it anyhow!"
"BUT I DON'T EAT IT ANYHOW!"
"Hail oh hail oh Infantry!"
"HAIL OH HAIL OH INFANTRY!"
"Queen of battle, follow-"
"LIEUTENANT! ARMOR COMING UP!"
Suddenly, almost all of the platoon were glancing back, looking at the dust clouds on the horizon and staggering, off-march at the sudden revelation of armored vehicles on the same road as them. Fortunately, Roseluck heeded Sergeant Rivet's cry, snapping orders to her NCOs quickly. "Alright, c'mon! Move 'em off the road and out of the way!"
"Yes ma'am! You heard the lieutenant! Get off the road in file order and fall in, double time!"
Quickly, the column of mostly rookie soldiers fell in on itself, disorganized and confused for only a second before it reemerged on the side of the road, strung out into two long lines, every recruit right back in the order they had started in. Short felt a little hint of pride in his chest to see that the recruits' training was finally paying off. What they had learned in basic was still ingrained in them from all the blood, sweat and tears, and thanks to the exercises done every morning here, they were adjusting to the way the platoon worked with ease.
It didn't take long for the armored column to catch up to them. But while Short had expected Defender steamwagons or Knight battlewagons, what crested the hill and proceeded to roll past were neither and more at the same time. Large than a battlewagon by half-again, swathed in armor and wielding long-barreled cannons, the behemoths were enormous, noisy and intimidating, capturing the attention of everypony present, even the sergeants, most of whom were hardened soldiers who had fought with the 71st in Stalliongrad. Short glanced over at Azure, thinking she might have some clue as to the information about this mystery, but the draft mare looked as astonished as everypony else.
Everypony except the lieutenant, it seemed. Roseluck simply watched calmly, nodding a bit as if slightly impressed but not completely sold on a cheap trick. She must have known the tanks were rolling by, but Short hadn't even known Equestria was producing the armored behemoths of their own.
As soon as the last tank rolled by, Lieutenant Roseluck stepped out in front of the platoon, calling out "Platoon, atten-shun!"
On reflex, all the stallions and mares swiftly slammed their hooves together, backs straight and heads held high, eyes fixed forward. From this position, nopony was allowed to move any part of their body, not even their eyes. Though the sergeants had to assume the same position, they at least did so where they could keep an eye on their soldiers, and quickly chew them out afterwards. While it was no longer basic training, maintaining soldiers in a war-prep environment meant you were always being watched.
"Troopers, the vehicles you saw were prototype Crusader tanks, belonging to the Royal Armed Forces of the Kingdom of Equestria. These glorious machines are here with the 34th Armored Battalion, who is field testing these weapons alongside our conventional Knights and troops. Hooah?"
"HOOAH!" the entire platoon roared back, eyes still fixed forward. Roseluck had simply made sure they were paying attention, not giving them a dismissal or the order to relax.
"Therefore," Roseluck continued, pacing in front of the platoon. "You are free to speak of it to each other and to the townspeople, as they will be in full sight of everypony in Ponyville. However, you are hereby ordered to not include their names or existence in your letters or divulge information regarded as Classified that you may hear to –anypony-. Those who do so will find themselves court martialed. Hooah?"
"HOOAH!"
"Then let's get back, platoon, and prepare for the festivities tonight."
2 Hours Later
Fluttershy's House
"Angel, you need to –stop- feeding the Timberwolves, or they'll never go away and they'll scare everyone! Um, that is, if you would please?"
Angel Bunny was sick and tired of his owner's meekness and unwillingness to put a hoof forward for herself. It was like this all the time, the white rabbit knew as he ignored the pregnant mare, nibbling on a carrot with no haste as he listened to the radio lazily, rubbing his round belly. It was too easy living off of Fluttershy, he decided. He would leave for a more challenging prospect, but he had a good life here. Maybe he'd stick around for a while longer.
"ANGEL! Stop feeding the bucking Timberwolves, or so help me, I will RIP YOU APART!"
Abruptly, the rabbit had a very angry, very yellow, very pregnant mare in his face, and his eyes instantly widened, staring at the enraged Fluttershy before nodding slowly, not trusting himself to do anything else.
"Ah…good. Thank you, Angel," the mare said, straightening up with a bashful look on her face, causing Angel to immediately slide down off the chair and sneak off. He needed to get out of this crazy horse's house.
Fluttershy sighed, leaning forward and turning off the radio, not willing to listen to another news report about some Marine unit getting slaughtered in Zebrabwe or of the negotiations with Prance, or the troubles in Canida or any of the problems in the world. Why was everything falling apart at once? Why couldn't everypony just get along and learn to live with each other like here in Ponyville?...but perhaps Ponyville wasn't such a good example after all.
Twilight…what had happened to her? She'd become so withdrawn and absorbed in little projects like translating books that she was forgetting to spend time with her friends. She never spoke of what happened in Stalliongrad, and not even Spike would relate the details. Fluttershy hoped that this was a phase, though she had to admit it was better than the mage shutting herself away for weeks on end.
Applejack was constantly distant, always distracted by something, though Fluttershy suspected it was Rainbow Dash running off to enlist that had set this course. The two of them had argued for an entire week before suddenly becoming quiet, and Dash had then just left.
Rarity and Pinkie Pie seemed to be the only ones unchanged through all of this, Rarity still keeping her chin up and trying to be supportive of everypony and Pinkie throwing parties and goofing off to keep them all entertained.
But Fluttershy knew that the truth was there; they were all being driven apart by this war, one way or another. Some nights, she would lie awake and wonder what life might be like if Stalliongrad, the root cause of all their problems, had never happened. Or, at least, if Twilight hadn't been there. What then?
She sighed, resigning herself to an early bedtime. These mood swings were really not doing much to help her out, but she still had several months left to suffer through and no sign of-
Knocking. At the door. Her head perked up a little, only half interested in finding out who it was. "It's unlocked. Come in." Really, maybe she should have thought that over. She had no clue who that was, and it might be some creepy stalker pony or maybe a burglar or maybe-
"Sweetcake?"
Or maybe, Fluttershy thought as her eyes widened and her jaw dropped, hooves coming up to cover her mouth in shock…
Maybe it was Mac, coming through the door dressed in his tan Royal Army uniform, removing the black cap from his head as he smiled softly down at her.
And maybe, she realized, she was hugging him and hadn't even remembered launching herself at him.
But, for the first time in a long time, Fluttershy found that she didn't really care about the details.
Public Library
That Night
The tome before her refused to surrender its secrets to Twilight. Though she had successfully opened the lock on the first night, the pages inside were inscribed in a language she didn't comprehend, and the book pulsed with an energy that, quite frankly, she was afraid to explore. And yet, all the translation tomes she had were hovering around her head, from dead languages, to obscure dialects to older, forgotten alphabets. But she hadn't gotten far, only connecting up a few words here and there, and the first time she had managed an entire sentence, it had simply been gibberish!
"What are you saying?" she muttered, a quill furiously scribbling notes onto a scroll of parchment nearby, already covered back and front with her notes written here and there. This word could mean that, or perhaps the sentence structure was like this, or maybe even-
"Come on, Twilight! We're going to be late for the Nightmare Night Festival!"
Twilight blinked, glancing down at herself and realizing that she was, in fact, staining her Starswirl the Bearded costume with ink, a tremendous annoyance since she spent so much time making the danged thing. Still, Spike's voice had been just what she'd needed to snap to once more, glancing at her clock and realizing that she was, indeed, late.
Another night, then. The tome would always be there, after all.
"Hey, look! We're here already! Should we get something to eat?"
"I think someone's already full, Twilight."
A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed her guess, and she grinned as Short emerged from behind a tent, dressed in his new orange and brown autumn fatigues, a duty cap squared away on his head. Unlike the residents of Ponyville, the soldiers had been forbidden by Colonel Di'ac for joining in on the celebration. Nopony knew for certain why, but the current suspicion was that the commander believed Nightmare Night to be an insult to the Commander in Chief, and as such refused to partake of the holiday or let her troopers dress up.
"Short! You made it!"
The gray stallion shrugged, as if it wasn't much of an impressive feat, a small smile on his muzzle nonetheless. "I had a leave pass, and that hasn't changed."
The two glanced down as the little dragonling belched, Twilight staring in disapproval at Spike's embarrassed face. Giving the assistant a pat on the back, the sergeant pushed Spike back up into a sitting position, surreptitiously pushing Spike's incredibly large pile of candy (how the hay had he gotten his claws on that, anyway?) away before quickly changing the subject.
"You see the new reinforcements we got today? A whole column of armor from the 34th rolled through today! I'd love to see them in action."
Twilight frowned, trying to remember everything she could. Though it had been a spectacular sight, the tome had been first and foremost on her mind, and she'd spared the tanks only a few seconds before she turned back. But she did remember at least one thing about the strange, hulking iron behemoths.
"I don't remember seeing them anywhere in Stalliongrad. Do you?"
"No, because they're brand new. Prototype Crusader tanks, but I'm not allowed to say much more than that." Short gave a helpless 'what-are-you-going-to-do' shrug, the look on his face begging Twilight to –not- ask more. Which was rather odd. Usually Short was more than willing to discuss the Army and the military in general. But, Twilight reasoned, if he had his orders, they were his orders. So, instead, Twilight smiled and replied "I'd actually like to get a better look at them. I'm afraid I was a little busy when they rolled through."
Relieved, Short nodded. "They'll be around a bit. And you'll definitely hear them, firing those big cannons. But I'm more curious about our air reinforcements."
"Wait. I thought the Army Sky Corps was absorbed into the Air Force."
"It was," said a voice from above, and all three heads swiveled upwards, two freezing in shock, eyes wide and jaws dropped. There, hovering right above them, was none other than Rainbow Dash herself! While Twilight had known Dash was a full-time combat flier in the Air Force, she hadn't realized exactly what that entailed, but now that she saw the padded ballistic armor and the blue flight-suit underneath, it took on a whole new meaning for her. She wouldn't even have realized it was Dash, but her mane and tail hadn't been covered, displaying that patented rainbow pattern. That and she'd taken off her helmet.
"Rainbow Dash?" she called, head tilting to the side in part confusion part relief. "What are you doing here?"
"That's Flight Lieutenant Rainbow Dash to you, civilian!" Dash said, rubbing her chest with a hoof before lazily inspecting it, as if she was some great hero absorbing the praise of her fans. "I'm here with the 16th Fighter Wing. And I'm technically supposed to be on patrol. But I'll see ya, Twilight! Spike!"
With that, the tomcolt twisted in the air, pulling away into the black sky with several strong flaps of her wings.
"So, that was Rainbow Dash?"
As Ace came up with an apple in his jaw, Applejack grinned, knowing the athlete would soon find the caramel filling she'd carefully prepared for her apples. It was a new product she was selling, called Stuffed Apples. Hopefully, Nightmare Night would be the perfect way to market more of her family's business...if most of Ponyville wasn't already buying from Sweet Apple Acres. She frowned a little at that realization, but it was alright. Finally, after so many weeks, things were looking up for her, and she'd just pulled herself out from her funk...
"Happy Nightmare Night, Applejack!"
She turned to find Spike, Twilight and one of the Army soldiers in his brown and orange look-like-Granny-Smith's-vegetable-soup camouflage approaching. Judging by how Twilight had described him, Applejack assumed that this was the infamous Sergeant Short Stop ("Trying saying that ten times fast!" she'd joked the first time she'd heard his name) and she turned to the group.
"Howdy, Spike. Hey, Twilight. And you must be..."
"Sergeant Stop, at your service, ma'am."
"Polite too? Oh, Twilight you got yourself a good one."
She expected Twilight to color a bit at the cheeks and glance away shyly before changing the topic to her costume, but instead the mage was frowning, a troubled look on her face. Applejack felt her own smile slipping, a feeling of dread setting over her.
"Twilight...what's wrong?"
"Rainbow Dash is back."
Applejack blinked, feeling something jerk in her chest, which felt suspiciously like her heart skipping a beat.
"Wh...what?"
"We just saw her fly over, she's been stationed here, in Ponyville."
"When?"
"A few minutes ago-"
Quickly, Applejack pushed past, cantering into the crowd, her face affixed in determination and...hurt?
"What was that about?" asked Short, looking confused as he glanced between the disappearing Applejack and Twilight. Spike shrugged, all the subtle nuances of romance and relationships lost on him as well. Twilight sighed, knowing she now had to fight against the stereotypical male thickness of the head.
"Rainbow Dash and Applejack are an item, remember? Or...they were."
"Were?" Short muttered, frowning again as he glanced at the sky this time. "Well...I suppose I can see now. A lot of soldiers tell me deployments wreck more couples than anything else."
In the apple tub, Ditzy popped up, the plug to the vessel clutched in her teeth as she pulled excitedly, mistaking it for an apple. Unfortunately, this had the effect of draining out the green water, and she frowned as she felt herself sinking.
"Everypony, drop some candy and let's get out of here!"
As Pinkie furiously upturned her candy bag, dumping out her hard earned chicken-suited loot, Short chuckled, shaking his head.
"In Savanneigh, we didn't give out that much candy. We believed Nightmare Moon hated sweets and would get even more offended. Instead, we all left a sample of our harvest at the base of her statue out in the Molasses Marsh, just to be sure..." He glanced down, hoping Twilight found some amusement in the contrast, but when he received no reply, he frowned. "Twilight? What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" the student snapped, a look of frustration etched across her features. "What's wrong is things are going down the drain! My friends are all back, but nothing's getting better! Applejack and Rainbow Dash were fighting so much before Dash was deployed, they never sent each other letters! Nightmare Night was supposed to be a happy festival, but its already becoming another day ruined by everypony's issues."
"Calm down, Twilight. These things happen. Nothing we can do by lamenting on the past. Got to think of how to fix it in the future." Short smiled. "I mean, it's not like there's some pony with a time machine who just -happens- to travel back and forth to fix issues or something."
Miles away, next to his grand machine, a brown pony with an hourglass on his flank sneezed, dropping the gadget he'd been working so hard to keep in his hoof. He groaned, leaning down and trying to pick it up again...but it simply fell down once more.
Twilight shrugged, not looking entirely convinced, but at the very least not upset anymore. "Yeah...and who knows, at this rate, one of the Princesses might just come down out of the clouds and-"
She was interrupted, however, by a gust of wind blowing through, threatening to take off her hat and sending the fake beard she'd strapped on fluttering. Over their heads, the leaves on the trees rustled, branches creaking as the breeze intensified, turning into a full force wind that tugged at everypony's costumes.
"What the hay..." muttered Short, glancing around before he looked up, abruptly elbowing Twilight in the side. "Look! Look at the moon!"
As soon as Twilight glanced up, along with practically everypony else in the group, a bright light streaked out, like an explosion inside the very moon! Hurtling out of the flash like a dark specter on wings, a shadowy form emerged, all spikes and chains and blades, careening down from the clouds like a meteorite. As the shape approached the startled and fearful group below, the light finally subsided, revealing that the shape was a sinister looking black carriage, being pulled by a pair of dark, bat-winged Pegasi! It was impossible, that couldn't be true! But the carriage continued on, soaring right over the heads of the distressed cluster of foals (and Pinkie) before coming to an abrupt halt, hovering above them, allowing all to spot the hooded figure riding in the back of the carriage.
"AAAAAH!" screamed Pinkie, eyes wide as she bellowed "IT'S NIGHTMARE MOON! RUN! GET THE ARMY!" Screaming, howling and otherwise simply scared out of their skulls, the foals all chased after the chicken-dressed pony, Zecora on their hooves as they swiftly hoofed it back towards Ponyville, both to escape the terrifying visage, and to warn the rest of the town.
"Doesn't she realize that we -serve- the Moon Princess?" Short muttered, remarkably calm despite the events happening around them. Overhead, a bolt of lightning struck, illuminating the grinning face beneath the hood. The carriage moved on, dark clouds rolling in its wake, heading towards Ponyville.
"C'mon," Twilight said, cantering off towards the town once more, and it only took a moment for Short to follow in her wake. The two arrived just in time to see the hooded pony leap down from her carriage, falling what must have been two stories at least before landing gracefully, casting off her hood as another bolt of lightning struck. Immediately, ponies all around her fell to their bellies, bowing down to avoid retribution from the supposedly horrible and vengeful monarch. What had they done to deserve the wrath of the Alicorn of the Moon?
"Princess Luna!" Twilight exclaimed, starting forwards until her cape was snapped by Spike's claw, tugging her down to the ground and gently holding a claw to her lips to keep her quiet.
"COMMANDER ON DECK!" came a shout, and every Army pony in viewing distance of the Princess abruptly snapped to attention, leaving a few dozen forms around the square standing, their autumn colored fatigues suddenly appearing sickly in the dark light, Short especially as the colors contrasted his coat.
True, the call was a naval one, but the Army had never changed it to suit their needs, and it fit them just fine. Nearby, an officer (probably some lower lieutenant) called out "TROOPERS! PRESENT, ARMS!" Again, as one, all the soldiers saluted, hooves to the brims of their caps as Luna stepped forward, gazing out over the assembly. Not all of Ponyville was here, and neither was the entire regiment, but it seemed as though she'd simply landed in the largest open space with the most ponies in it. Menacingly, a flight of bats soared overhead, but Twilight suspected that was all simply part of the show. Or maybe they'd been disturbed from the forest. Or-
"CITIZENS OF PONYVILLE!" Luna bellowed, her voice so forcefully charged with magic that it seemed like a wind itself, blowing the caps off of several soldiers who squinted, but were forced to remain where they were, still saluting. "WE HAVE GRACED YOUR TINY VILLAGE WITH OUR PRESENCE, SO THAT YOU MAY BEHOLD THE -REAL- PRINCESS OF THE NIGHT!"
Kodiak, Western Faunterra
Kermode City
Disputed by Hippogryph and Geisterbjorn Rebel Movement
It wasn't the first time Warden Tempestia Bravencrest had felt fear. But it was starting to look like it would be the last.
"Get to the doors! Make sure there's none in there!" she snapped, slamming to the ground at last. Around her, the rest of Salamander squad did the same, their shock-absorbing leg braces allowing them to push off towards the front doors of the Grand Hall, the bears' equivalent of a central governing structure, more like an enormous feasting hall than a city center, however. Scattered around the building were the remains of the Ground Forces sent to protect the structure, some behind sandbag barricades, and others in hastily dug trenches and foxholes. The bears had smashed through here less than an hour ago, even though they had been repulsed by the Legion. Rebel corpses lay scattered around as well, in proportion to the dead griffons. A Ground Forces brigade had deployed into the Kodiak capital city as a vanguard to help reinforce it with heavy weapons and armor while more regiments were being mobilized in the homeland, but now it seemed that they'd arrived too late, and had made little difference.
In the distance, the city burned as the fighting between bears and griffons reached its peak, the sky laced with anti-flier rounds and power-jumping griffons relocating to other places in the urban battlefield. This fight had started less than four hours ago, countless rebels flooding over the city walls, up out of the sewers, even flooding out from the damned –buildings-. They outnumbered the scant Ground Forces and Legionnaires in the city at least four to one, and that was apparently just the first wave!
Checking her ammunition reserves, Bravencrest found she was down to only a handful of magazines for her LSG. Knowing that was no good, she immediately began scanning the area for fallen soldiers bearing the same weapon. Finding none in her immediate vicinity, she called out "Ammo check! If you need more, take from the dead!"
Swiftly, Salamander squad broke apart, those with low or no ammunition setting their weapons aside and either taking more rounds from the fallen armored griffons around them, some trading out for different weapons altogether. Tempestia herself set her LSG down and quickly picked up an HCR-27 automatic rifle from a dead Ground soldier, checking the magazine before collecting the rest of his ammunition and reloading. She'd fired so many rounds today her arms were numb, but she couldn't let her guard down for an instant, checking over the older weapon before confirming that it seemed to be alright. It was fitted with a rifle scope, and she tapped the adjustment screw a bit to set it to her eye, standing up after only a minute or so.
"Call 'em out!"
Two calls of "Set!" rang out, followed by "Need a minute!" The Warden sighed, glancing at her assembled soldiers in sadness and a bit of anger. She was down to three Legionnaires in her squad, not bad considering the fighting, but if they were the first reinforcements to reach here, they wouldn't be enough. She glanced over at the nearby burning husk of the destroyed Ground Forces Cruiserweight medium tank, grimacing as the smell of burnt flesh came to her nose. The bears were incredibly well equipped now, and had the numbers and organization to resemble an actual military at this point, and though she had no doubt that the tank had been split open by a Canid bazooka, she knew that most of the Geisterbjorn's heavy weapons were of Equestrian make, meaning they were lighter and more mobile for the big and powerful bears.
As if reading her thoughts, the chattering of heavy machine guns came to her ears, and she spun around to watch two Legionnaires get slammed out of the sky by a stream of tracers, tearing into the jump troopers and sending them plummeting back to earth. Another gunframe was nearby!
"Be ready!" she called, double-checking her new rifle. "There could be more of them around!"
Again, as if in reaction to her words, one of her Legionnaires suddenly spun around, falling to the ground a second later as the tardy boom of the gunshot rang out. The spray of blood pattered across the stone around the Grand Hall, and Salamander squad instantly moved to cover on the main path, weapons ready as the plaza was suddenly –flooded- with enormous, furry forms, charging straight towards them crying "Urrah! Urrah!" in their guttural tongue. A few other shouts of "For the All-Father!" and "Valhalla awaits!" met her ears, but at this point she didn't particularly care, raising her rifle and hammering off a burst of heavy rounds.
The bears fell as they charged up, a dozen in the first few seconds as heavy fire tore into them. Overhead, a pair of Sky Navy P-21 Lightning tore past, their machine guns rattling as they tore up the charging rebels. However, a chorus of deep thumps sounded from the next block over, and one of the ground-attack planes was ripped apart by the autocannon fire, spiraling to the ground and exploding as the other peeled away, most likely not to return.
"Dammit!" Bravencrest snarled, firing off another burst before she was forced to swap her magazines again. In the second she'd let herself be distracted, the bears had replenished their numbers and were charging again! She knew they'd be overrun if they stayed, so she called out "Fall back! We need to fall back and regroup!"
But no one responded.
She dashed to the other side of the tank wreck, glancing out, looking for any flash of olive vest or helmet. Surely they were just too busy to respond, but she heard no return gunfire, only the bullets being sent her way-
And then a grenade clattered off the stones nearby, detonating before she could even turn to run and throwing the Warden into the air. Darkness overtook her…
She awoke to sunlight shining down on her face. The smell of smoke rolled past her nostrils, and she couldn't feel her lower half. She shifted, slightly, then found that her arms wouldn't respond. She was too weak to move, unable to feel anything. She opened her eyes, squinting up at the sky. Black clouds roiled past, clouds of smoke. It had been the middle of the night when the battle had started, and now it had to be at least noon. But why was she still laying here? Why didn't a medic come by or-?
"Has Mation received the message?"
"Yes, Lord Discord. He reports that Parliament has agreed to all proposed measures, and the Hegemonic war machine will be rolling full steam in the next few weeks."
"Excellent, General. Kodiak will be a little while in rebuilding, but I'm sure with the protection of our new allies, the Dominion will be able to contribute to the war quite well."
"Then, it will happen, Lord? We will invade Hippogryph?"
"Calm yourself, Krastos. Mation has already emphasized the need to knock out the ponies first, and I will let him take his glory prize in Prance. But the real threat is Celestia. That infernal witch can easily trap me again if she gets all the Elements together and so much as –hears- my voice."
"Then, shouldn't we be trying to neutralize her ability to harm you?"
"Ah, that's already being taken care of, Krastos. I have an inside dog making sure of it."
Slowly, which as much strength as she could muster, Bravencrest turned her head to the left, wincing as she did so. The plaza was full of bears, most of them striding past heavily on some errand or another, but a large group stood before the Great Hall, staring up at someone. At the front was none other than General Krastos, the leader of the rebel movement! There had been a bounty on his head for years, but the Matriarchy had never gotten close enough to find him!
Tempestia tried to reach for her belt, and her arm finally moved, inching slowly down to the ALP-15 pistol at her waist…
"Ah! We have a survivor!"
Her head suddenly snapped straight up, as her eyes opened wide in horror to find a tall, serpentine shape standing above her. Where the hell had he come from? He hadn't been there a second-
"Sorry, but the Geisterbjorn takes no prisoners. Annoying, really. I was so looking forward to interrogating a few of you, but every body has to be accounted for, or your government starts pestering."
The muzzle of a Canid J2F suddenly filled her view, the yawning black expanse of the barrel becoming all she could see, and Bravencrest knew that she was feeling fear for the very last time.
There was a bright flash, a streak of agonizing pain, and then…nothing.
