In the Special Operations Community, three tenants denote the most important factors of successful battle: Speed, Surprise, and Violence of Action. If all three are achieved to a sufficient extent, victory becomes a much less costly end state.

Task Force Forager had lost Surprise on the long march up the twisting mountain road. They had lost Speed during the protracted firefight before the gates of S-L-1. All that remained to them was Violence of Action; the level of, aggression used to assault the enemy and seize the initiative. If they could attack aggressively enough, they could dictate the tide of battle.

Task Force Forager ripped into the alien defenders with the ferocity of a feral lion.

Before the rubble from the Gustavs had finished collapsing into the now-damned moat, Moose was up and running. SEALs and D-Boys surged forward, breaking from cover and closing the distance to the wall as fast as their feet would carry them. They ordered themselves into a rough wedge as they ran, no words being needed as their exhaustive training and skills told them exactly where they needed to be.

In seconds they passed the Rangers closest to the wall, temporarily stalled as their Lieutenant rushed to organize them out of their scattered positions and into a coherent formation. Moose found himself on the right side of the wedge three men back from the tip. Lowball was right him, his feet scraping inches away from Moose’s heels. Clumsy and Chainsaw were farther back and on the trailing edge.

The men lost only a step or two as they bounded up the pile of crushed rock that had once been moat. Faster than mountain goats they were over the obstruction and on the desecrated grass on the far side of the wall.

They stormed through with their weapons raised and dealing quick death to those that opposed them. Stunned aliens in golden armor stumbled around on and behind the ramparts, their ears bleeding and their brains rattled from the concussion. In mere seconds they had gone from being in an unassailable position, completely immune to harm, to little more than gilded targets.

Moose’s rifle barked again and again as he worked his way down the line of stumbling guards that lined the rampart’s walkway. In what seemed like no time at all he was forced to swap magazines, momentarily breaking the fast, steady beat of his weapon.

By the time Moose ejected his second magazine and chambered a round from his third, the aliens were already beginning to recover from the explosion. What were most likely officers and NCOs yelled unmistakable orders. Retreat. Fall Back. Run.

The enemy’s position on the wall was untenable, and it didn’t take them long to realize it. Even as the Ranger platoon began to stream through the breach, the horse soldiers were falling back into the city along the central avenue, a lazy switchback that led to what had been simply designated the ‘Government Complex.’ A new shield covered their escape. It was much smaller than the one that had covered the city, barely as wide as the paved causeway. Blue-grey instead of light pink, it shimmered brightly as it repelled dozens of rifle rounds before collapsing under sustained fire from the Rangers’ light machine guns.

They left a trail of crossbows, spears, and bodies as they left, but there was obvious discipline in their movements. The guards weren’t routing, that much was certain. They were moving back to prepare to fight again.

Task Force Forager couldn’t allow that. Violence of Action had carried the moment and given them the initiative. It was time to add Speed back to the equation.

Princess Celestia wasn’t in shock, but she wasn’t far from it.

In mere moments, the Wall of Canterlot had been shattered, her ponies slaughtered, and her sister knocked unconscious. The creatures that had caused her so much trouble defeated the Royal Guard and had begun to stream into her city. Their horrifying weapons had shattered Shining Armor’s shield at its strongest in mere moments and left the former Captain bleeding from the ears and nose across the back of one of her personal guards.

Author's Notes:

This was the straw that broke the camel's back and told me that where I was taking this story just wasn't working.