Chapter 37: Cloudsdale Answers the Call
The wind rushed around Walker's body, chilling her to the bone regardless of her flight suit. Focusing up she stared into the hellish swarm before her. Picking out friendlies was hard from this distance.
Flaring her wings, she slowed slightly, and banked to the left. Stabilizing her trajectory, she glanced back. The remaining ponies from her dropship had all disembarked, and were now finalizing their attack formation: a large echelon pattern to Walker's right, with the 134 ponies being divided into squadrons of 16, give or take a few.
The few seconds she had been falling seemed like minutes. The darkly lit skies seemed so much brighter as they descended. She could see the battle properly now; a luxury she would not waste.
"Everyone!" Walker screamed, "Pick your targets now and break on contact!"
The poor sod she chose had no idea, descending into his body with a loud crack.
The orchestra continued. The sun was barely visible now, and Celestia's horn began dimming slowly with the sun. The single window in the room was a god send for Silverhoof: it was angled away from the battle. Nopony had any clue what was going on outside.
"M'lord…"
Sighing heavily, the director turned to his left, nodding angrily at the ESS agent standing next to him. The blonde pony leaned in close, clearing his throat quietly.
"The rebels have received reinforcements from Cloudsdale, and our flying soldiers are in disarray or are rout. They have begun air to ground attacks on our regiments."
Silverhoof tensed his jaw. The anger within him welled and his eyes blazed like fire. Beside him, Rainbow Dash felt a smile creep across her face. He was visibly perturbed and increasingly agitated as the long minutes ticked by.
"We've analyzed their attack and there is a danger. Should I have your train standing by?"
"Evacuate?!" Silverhoof exclaimed, his voice drawing several concerned glances. Composing himself, he frowned and quietly continued, "In our moment of triumph? I think you overestimate their chances."
"Sir," the agent nodded and moved to exit.
Silverhoof extended hoof upwards, signaling the formal looking pony to return. Swiftly, he was at the director's side again.
"Bring out the Gatlings."
Spitfire noticed them at the last minute. Ducking a hundred feet to barely avoid the first wave, the reinforcements from Cloudsdale roared in like a cascading flood. The ESS flyers were caught off guard, not anticipating an attack from above of this magnitude. What infinitesimal semblance of formation they maintained was broken, shattering into hundreds of black shards. At least a quarter of the fighters fled to the city below or across the plains, as the stout morale of the ESS dwindled.
Bursting forth with renewed vigour, Spitfire spotted Shadow, still the priority target. He had six bogeys on his tail, and was closer to the castle, where the ESS forces were the thickest. Shadow dived towards the ground, coming within feet of the rooftops, as the ESS flyers stuck right on his tail. Breaking hard right, he descended even further into the streets below, causing two careless pegasi to smash into each other and crumple into a tumbling mess on the pavement.
Descending with greater speed from above, Spitfire used her momentum to body slam the foremost pegasus into the ground, taking a target out and losing enough energy to safely engage in the dogfight. The careening pegasus clipped one of the pursuers wings, causing him to hurtle into a building.
Pulling up hard, Spitfire gambled against the ESS flyers' intelligence and training. The gambit played off, as one of the pegasi broke off to follow her. Leveling out just above the rooftops, she pulled into a wide swinging horseshoe turn, as Shadow deked the opposite way onto another road. Pulling a sharp turn Storm forced himself forward. As he completed the third turn, Spitfire rolled and dove back down to street level.
Speeding headlong at each other, Shadow and Spitfire prepared themselves. Seconds before they intercepted each other, the two jerked into knife-edge turns, and rolled around each other. Catching their respective pursuers in a trap, Shadow dispatched Spitfire's tail with a quick jab, whilst Spitfire elected for an extremely heavy slam with both her forehooves.
With no tail, considerable momentum and little distance to the castle, Shadow bolted forward. Pulling up into a long barrel roll, Shadow aimed for the castle rooftop. With luck, he would decelerate perfectly into a gallop for the far door.
Emerging through a layer of smoke high above the castle, a distant sound from below caught Shadow's attention: "A continuous volley?"
THCK!
A sharp, intense pain shot from Shadow's chest all the way through the rest of his body. The pain was unbearable. He could feel the air draining from his lungs.
Barely having cleared the top of his roll, Storm's body went limp, and his world went dark.