"OOF!"

Clockwork fell to the ground in a heap as what every last scrap of air left him in an instant. He lay there for some time, desperately struggling to return oxygen to his lungs before being rolled over and looking to the combatant responsible.

Charger looked over the stallion, checking for basic medical problems but finding none. She looked him in his winded eyes. "Clockwork, don't struggle. As much as it hurts, let your body-”

The mare stepped back as Clockwork flared out his wings in an attempt to get some space. He grimaced, attempting to get a hold of himself. After a few painful seconds, his body gave one tremendous shudder before he got to his trembling hooves. Despite his pain, he laughed. “Nice hit, really nice. Had any charge in those gloves of yours?”

"No, and I don't believe this was fully my responsibility," she responded, eyeing Clockwork with caution. "You just froze, I took the opportunity, but you weren't ready for that strike at all. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, it was my fault." the pegasus waved her off. "I got distracted and suffered the consequences. That'll teach me."

Charger looked on with both concern and curiosity. "We were in the middle of a sparring match, even with no current in my gloves you shouldn't have gone down so easily. What could've-"

"Nothing," he replied flatly. "I got distracted when I should’ve stayed focused. I’m good."

Charger's brow furrowed.

"I'm good,” he emphasized. “Add some electricity and continue sparring, it'll keep me on my hooves."

Charger sighed. As she contemplated whether or not to follow through with her teammate's request, a familiar voice made itself present through two small radios at the opposite end of the training room.

"Clockwork, Charger, either of you there?"

Charger grabbed her radio and spoke first. "We're both present, Commander. Is something wrong?"

"Negative. The ship's done, our month's up, and our presence is requested in the royal castle immediately. Sixth hallway, door thirty-three. We've got a new mission."

"We'll be there as soon as we can." Clockwork ended the transmission. He didn't need to ask why Charger had that look in her eye. "I'm scared, yes, but I'll be fine. C'mon."

Without another word, the duo made their way out of the training center and back through the cobblestone streets of Canterlot. Both ponies noticed that, despite Long Shot's claim that their new ship had been completed, there were no zeppelins of any kind in the skies overhead. Disregarding the strange absence, Clockwork let his mind wander as his muscle memory took over.

Everypony in Meteor had been training with each other for nearly the entirety of the month, and it was helping. Clockwork knew how to escape chokeholds, successfully fight off multiple armed enemies with both his wings tied, and even if a limb was crippled. Clockwork slowed for a moment and looked at his back right leg to find it healing well. He smiled, for aside from an impressive scar, there was almost no sign that a bullet had passed through it, and it certainly felt that way, too. He could balance almost his entire weight on it, and could run full speed if the situation demanded it.

The duo came to a quiet, gradual halt as they approached the immense dual bronze doors that marked the entrance into the royal sister's castle. The comrades looked at each other for a moment.

"How do I look?" the winged one asked.

Charger hurriedly straightened out her uniform before moving to tweak Clockwork's. As members of a High Risk Operations team, the two equestrians had been given access to a long list of different types of armor, uniforms, and hybrids of the two. In the end, both ponies settled on simple grey armored vests. Each modified to the respective owner's preferences, Clockwork's being filled with spare ammunition and a few tools and Charger's containing extra padding and a repair kit, but nothing more. The only other things she wore were her gloves and wires, and Clockwork his holster, goggles, white undershirt, and burgundy bandanna.

They weren't used to their new looks yet, and presentability was vital. Charger stepped back, admiring her hoofiwork with a tiny nod and look of admiration. "No worse than usual."

Even if it wasn't the best joke, it was still told by Charger, and such was enough to make her companion giggle. Over the past month, she had grown slightly less uptight than before she had joined Meteor. Clockwork nodded before turning back to the palace's immense entryway. After showing his patch to one of the nearby guards, the unicorn's horn glowed a bright blue.

A heavy, mechanical groan echoed in the immediate vicinity. To most, it would've been recognized as a bellowing, annoying creaking. To a certain pegasus, it was like music, though more than a little oil wouldn't hurt.

As soon as the bronze monoliths had opened enough to allow passage, Clockwork and Charger hurried inside. It took a great deal of effort from both ponies not to stop and admire the luxurious, industrial, and heavily defendable (all at once) furnishings. The craftsmareship was nothing short of heavenly, and the rug almost felt like a cloud. For the briefest moment, both ponies dropped their guard. It wasn’t long before the two arrived at an unexpected sight.

Only a single guard stood before an ornate, though otherwise unimportant looking door. The number 33 rested just above the entrance. Aside from the royal guardspony being heavily armed and armored, the area appeared to hold very little tactical value sans some moderate cover. With one final flash of their badges, the unicorn let them through into an even further unexpected sight.

Clockwork expected the entry to open up into a large room, maps plastered across every viewable surface and then some, a hologram projector set in the back wall maybe, anything that would signify the importance of the room. In reality though, the room was almost uncomfortably small, with room for no more than ten ponies at the most and that was pushing it. A single table sat in the dead center of the room, brightly lit by the only lantern in the room Clockwork suspected to be a modified crawlspace. The only thing on the table was a parchment map of a landmass Clockwork recognized from his studies as Zebrica. However, the most noteworthy thing was the room’s occupants. Long Shot and Switcher were both present, as were-

“Sirs!” Charger snapped to attention, almost bloodying her companion’s nose in the process. The pegasus mimicked his friend’s actions, his heart skipping a beat as he did. Directly across from them were three individuals, each legendary in their own right. Captain Twilight Sparkle, the bearer of the element of Magic and the the greatest spellcaster since Starswirl the Bearded, and Captain Fluttershy, bearer of the element of Kindness and head of the entire Federation Medical Corps. Both mares had achieved incredible feats both military and otherwise, all benefitting more than just Equestria. A younger mare stood by the latter’s side that took another second to recognize; Machinery Sergeant Applebloom, younger sister of Chief Machinist Applejack. Both of their technological advancements during the initial industrial revolution rocketed equestria’s capabilities forward more than a century.

“At ease,” Captain Twilight ordered. Like robots, the duo dropped their hooves and made their way to stand at the table, the doors shutting behind them as they did.

Twilight spoke first. “I hope that you all ate a hearty meal, because today's lunch was likely the last plate of normal pony food you'll have for some time.”

“Explanation, ma’am?” Charger asked.

“Something has come up in the heartland of Zebrica, near the capital of Mji Mkuu.” Twilight’s voice took on a shockingly grim tone. “Earlier this morning, Tribe Queen Zecora contacted us personally. Diamond Dogs have been found deep their borders, and they aren’t bothering to try and make peace.”

“What do you mean?” Clockwork asked this time, still slightly shocked at being in the same room as the Element bearers.

“They’ve been making raids in the dead of night, just. . . killing everything that gets in their way. They haven’t even tried to make contact with the zebras. Judging by the reports, this has been happening for a while now.”

“Zebrica’s two whole countries away from the Empire, why bother sending an enemy that operates best under dry ground so far into enemy territory? And how?” Long Shot asked.

“Commander. You have not been briefed?” Charger interrupted.

The nocturni slowly shook his head. “Not yet, no. I only got here a few minutes before you two. Same with Switcher.” he gestured to his currently undisguised ally.

“That’s exactly why we’re sending you,” Twilight added. “We need to find out the enemy’s motives before this gets any worse.”

“To my knowledge, ma’am, every zebra is trained in combat techniques to various extents,” Switcher pondered. “Why request assistance now, if the attacks have been going on for as long as you believe?”

“In a hoof-ta-paw fight, they can hold their own pretty well,” Applebloom answered. “But those darn dogs have all that fancy machinery on their side. Bows and arrows and blowguns and staffs ain’t gonna do nothin’ against tanks and noxious gas. The Cap’n fergot ta mention that not all the zebras think they need our help.”

“What?” Long Shot asked. “What noxious gas?”

“Umm. . . The medicine mare of the first village exposed sent back a. . . report.” Fluttershy finally spoke. She retrieved a scroll from her coat and unrolled it onto the table. The scroll was dirty, burnt and torn in multiple places, but the writing was completely legible Equestrian. The members of Meteor Squad gathered around the scroll and each read it silently to themselves as Fluttershy read aloud

“Severe blurring of vision, painful and reduced movement caused by tightening of skin, and the worsening of existing wounds. One case of unintentional sustained exposure to a high concentration of the gas resulted in death to the tissue both surrounding and inside the area of exposure, causing symptoms similar to lung inflammation, blood poisoning, and an intensified form of. . . oh, dear, Intensified h-hoof rot.” the pegasus shivered, a gesture that everypony else mimiced in kind. “The substance has proven to be more difficult to deal with once it has gathered in pockets or come into contact with nearby water sources, in which it becomes much like a strong acid. Gas pockets, such as the one that caused the blood poisoning, can form in any area not exposed to moderate winds. No definite cure has been found, no cases of effects wearing off have turned up as of this report’s creation.”

Clockwork felt the urge to vomit, but stopped himself when he saw Long Shot stumble back from the table. He had a look that he had never seen him display before: pure, absolute terror.

“Oh no, oh no no no. . . No!” the nocturni muttered, sweat began to bead down his forehead.

“What’s the matter?” Clockwork asked.

“I thought that it was gone. I thought that it had been destroyed, eradicated, neutralized, gone. . .”

“Commander, what the hay is it?”

Long Shot walked back to the table and almost collapsed on top of it. “Battlefright. . .” at this point, most of the ponies in the room where preparing for a mental breakdown.

Fluttershy finally acquired the nerve to respond to the sudden, uncharacteristic action. “Umm... Long Shot? If you have any information on this weapon, it would be nice if you told us. . . that is, if you were comfortable doing so. . .”

“Sorry ma’am,” the nocturni straightened upright, looking as if he had just woke up in a bathtub filled with a liquid that used to be his family. “Just remembering the last time this stuff was used.”

“When was that?”

“Before Luna was banished.”

Clockwork blinked, he’d never heard any mention of this gas in the history books, and had forgotten for a brief moment that his boss was technically over a millennia old.

Long Shot cleared his throat before continuing. “It was just after the Lunar Royal Guard had been established, hell, I was only twenty seven. Equestria was under attack by a race of fey creatures that lived in what’s now part of dragon country. They were made of branches, trees, and a number of other types plant-life, sometimes looking like a pony and other times more like trees themselves. Led by a cabal of peryton sorcerors, they came into towns and turned ponies into mulch so that their master could grow more of their kind. Normal weapons were utterly useless, so the high mages at the time created a deadly gas with assistance from. . . some darker magical sources. It was designed to kill off the creatures faster than they could regenerate while poisoning the soil.” he paused as haunting memories came flooding back. “It. . . succeeded. The substance destroyed the armies in a matter of days, thousands of lives were lost, on both sides. The gas, then called Necrotizing Battlefright, devastated not only the fey but the very land around it, killing the soil. Its effects on flesh were even worse, as we’ve all read. By order of Princess Celestia herself we destroyed all known traces of the substance, then sealed the formula away so that it could never be used again.”

If changelings had eyebrows, Switcher would’ve raised one of his with both curiosity and some semblance of fear. “Why not destroy the formula rather then just sealing it away?”

Long Shot coughed apologetically. “We thought of that, but Princess Luna was of the mind that even a dangerous weapon could be potentially valuable. She thought that it might be needed in the future, and that to deprive ourselves of any resource would prove to be a mistake in the long run.”

Clockwork tasted sour bile in his throat. He couldn’t decide what was worse, the fact that ponykind had created such a demonic weapon, or that they had refused to destroy it. After gagging for a moment, he managed to ask “Then how did the Consortium manage to get its paws on it? How are they actually making it, anyway?”

“That’s not important right now. What is important is that we need to go in, kill any dog that won’t surrender, destroy every last trace of Battlefright they have, and leave.”

Clockwork was still impressed that the commander could sum up such a large amount of time and information into a few sentences. However, he had to find out all of the details. “What support or supplies will we have?”

“You’ll have whatever weapons you bring with you, but you won't need to worry about sustenance,” Twilight answered. “Ponies can survive off of Zebrican flora and fauna, and the zebras have preparing that nailed down to a science. As for equipment, we’ll provide each of you with two hazmat suits, along with two pairs of gas masks for short exposure. Standard protocol for dealing with poisonous substances. The zebras aren’t the most advanced species, so we’re sending relief supplies with you to help them cope with the increased hostility of the situation. As for support, I’m sorry, but you won’t be getting much of it.”

Clockwork only raised an eyebrow.

“Umm. . . Zebrica is so heavily forested that airships are next to useless for zeppelin support fire,” Fluttershy explained. “We’d just. . . burn holes in the jungle, and that wouldn’t help anypony. Twilight, Applebloom and I will be accompanying you on this mission.”

“Why is that?” Charger inquired. “Soldiers as valuable as yourselves should not be needlessly placing your lives in harm’s way.”

“We’re goin’ ‘cause we know Zecora best!” Applebloom exclaimed. “Us bein’ there will help comfert her, an' show that we genuinely care 'bout her people.”

“Sorry to be blunt, ma’ams,” Clockwork stammered. “but we don’t have a ship.”

Long Shot laughed under his breath, still a little shocked from the announcement of Battlefright’s resurgence. “She’s waiting for us downstairs. C’mon.”

Clockwork and Charger tilted their heads to separate sides. “Downstairs, sir?” they asked.

As soon as the elevator's glass wall opened up into the cave system, Clockwork felt his jaw hit the floor. He could only think of one sight more beautiful, and she was standing right next to him with a similar expression. “Commander?” he asked as he desperately tried to reset his jaw. “Is that. . . ours?”

“Yep.”

It finally made sense why there had been no zeppelins in the sky despite the squad’s ship supposedly being completed. It was because the airship had been entirely assembled within the mountain.

As Clockwork looked over the immense, floating vehicle before his rapidly descending elevator, Long Shot laughed. “The looks on your muzzles are priceless, but they’re appropriate given Szary’s abilities.”

“Szary?”

Switcher-7 cleared his throat, Clockwork could tell by his voice that he had altered his appearance. “One of the best of its class. Modified scout and swift strike frigate. Three inch thick mithril hull, buoyancy maintained solely by helium cells. Equipped with a miniaturized version of the prototype teleportation drive we detonated over Valor Point some time ago. A fully functioning hologram projector, four independently operated propellers, though it can maintain course on as little as two. The only offensive emplacement our new ship has is quite powerful, a javelin cannon powered by bleed off steam many other ships simply vent. Crewed by the standard skeleton of twenty five with as little as ten needed to keep it in the air and fighting.”

Long Shot laughed through his nose. “Ain’t she a beauty?”

Both of the new members nodded. The zeppelin’s hull gleamed silver as small yet powerful spotlights illuminated it in various portions. Relatively sleek and small given its eventual passengers and likely risky missions, a single, large turret hung near the center of its underside.

“Such few engineers heightens the risk for a quickened loss of full functionality.” Charger finally responded.

“Missy, ya fergot that mithril is really darn strong! Ah mean, have ya seen what that stuff can hold up against?” Applebloom squeaked with enthusiasm. “It’s light too, and it takes helium an especially long time ta ‘scape from it! Besides, if this ship is goin’ down, then what the hay is it doing there in the first place?”

Clockwork shrugged. “it all sounds too good to be true.”

“The best deserve the best,” Twilight replied firmly.

Clockwork looked at his hooves, then to his artificial wing. “I really don’t consider myself-”

The elevator came to a jolting halt, nearly causing the pegasus to bite his tongue. Without a word, the seven equines trotted across the cave’s stone floor before reaching an oddly colored dropship. At Long Shot’s urging, the pegasus got inside and strapped in. “Aside from the paint job, what’s so special about this thing?”

Switcher once again prepared for a technological rant as he sat down. “This is the Vikare, Meteor Squad’s personal dropship. What it lacks in firepower, quite literally having no firearms whatsoever mounted onboard, it more than makes up for in increased speed and mid-flight agility. Otherwise, it is no different from any other rapid response craft in the Federation’s arsenal.The commander preferred its unpainted finish.”

“And I get the sense a lot of other ponies do too.”

Clockwork remained dumbly silent as they arrived onboard Szary and were given a surprisingly quick tour of the squad’s new home/base of operations/flying fortress. He exchanged only a few words and a kiss with a bemused Wetwork after discovering her already onboard and briefed on the mission in full, having spent the last two weeks working on the ship. Haywire was with her too, tinkering with some machinery or another he had yet to determine the purpose of. In what felt like seconds, the pegasus was on the bridge, listening as the ship’s pilot (the Even Odd’s former pilot, actually), an elderly steel-blue, silver-grey maned pegasus called Nimbus went over how the mission would proceed from the sky. Clockwork finally let five words escape his lips in the form of a question.

“How long till we’re off?”

Nimbus eyed the younger pegasus with an experienced smile. “We’ll teleport over the primary landing zone in one hour, then Meteor will head down in the Vikare with the first batch of relief supplies. After that, we’ll teleport back to Canterlot but and maintain radio contact. The dogs most likely have anti-air defenses, and from what I've seen, they're damned powerful. You’ll be on our own for most of the mission unless it’s an absolute emergency.”

Long Shot turned to his comrades. “We can get the rest of the details on the trip there. Now come on, Meteor Squad. We’ve got a job to do!”

The three warriors let out a combined ‘Yes sir!” before trotting out the door of the bridge. Everypony went their separate ways, some to gather belongings, others to grab a quick bite to eat, or to take one last hot shower.

Clockwork immediately went to the squad quarters and started packing. From what he had read about Zebrica, it was a land of constantly changing environmental condition, to an extent. He had read that the place was either hot year round or muggy or both. He wouldn’t need any insulation, heck, he probably wouldn’t even wear his undershirt or bandanna half the time he was down there. He packed a few dozen rounds of ammunition, a hoofheld glass cleaning and polishing kit, a couple extra batteries for his radio, and a few other items.

“Soo. . .”

“Hey, Wetwork.” the pegasus didn’t turn around just yet.

“Zebrica, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Poison gas, flesh eating bacteria, carnivorous plants. . .” the unicorn trailed off.

Clockwork laughed for a moment as he slung his duffel bag, fully packed and ready to go, over his shoulder. “If you’re trying to convince me to op out, it isn’t working.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, and the fact that your first mission involves getting dropped into an unfamiliar area where the enemy has the clear technological advantage sounds more like suicide to me. You know what happened to the last crew your commander had? They all died.”

"And it was my stupidity that got them killed, not Long Shot's inability to lead." the pegasus finally looked his marefriend in the eyes, and found them filled with equal parts fear, worry, and compassion. “I appreciate your concern for my wellbeing, and I’m totally scared, but it’s what I've chosen to do and I have to roll with it. I’ll be fine as long as you promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

The two gently butted heads. Clockwork felt horrible. Less then a few hours with Wetwork only told him that he should spend more time with her. “Stay alive so I’ll have something to come back to. Promise?”

The mare nodded, holding back tears all the while. “Promise.”

Clockwork made it to Szary’s hangar bay before the rest of the squad. He spent a good five minutes mentally running over the mission basics and his checklist of materials before Long Shot and Switcher showed up, and another three before Charger joined them as well. Captain Twilight, Fluttershy, and Applebloom hadn’t arrived yet, so Clockwork realized that he had the opportunity to look his squad over, ready to throw themselves into the fire for the first time since Valor Point.

Charger was as attractive as she had ever been. Her mane was still messy, as it always was, and her gloves were a snug fit. Occasionally a single electrical spark would jump over one of them. Clockwork had to avert his eyes in case she caught him staring. Long Shot seemed to have had the same idea as him, his armor sparsely covering his body, but he had some sort of mesh underlay snug below the primary plating and covering his legs. Once again, the Commander wasn't taking his helmet. Switcher-7’s uniform hadn’t changed in the slightest. Changeling probably didn't react to heat in the same way as their mamallian bretheren.

Clockwork’s train of thought was broken by Long Shot shouting “Attention! Superiors on deck!”

The squad saluted as one when Twilight, Fluttershy, and Applebloom entered together. Twilight’s heavily decorated navy-blue uniform hadn’t changed much, except for a few brass armor plates now protecting her knees, shoulders, elbows, and had a single LeMane revolver strapped to her left side. Fluttershy wore a medic’s uniform, with armor in the same places as Twilight, and she had the same mesh as Long Shot’s covering her body. Surprisingly, she had alshotgun of all things slung over her shoulder. Applebloom carried no weapon and had almost no armor at all, save for brass horseshoes and some plates covering her forelegs. Her tail was styled as a single long braid, while her mane flowed freely. Her trademark red bow had been replaced by a black bandanna, the symbol of the E.F.R.S.N. stained on it in white. All three of the mares had large duffle bags at their hooves.

“At ease, Meteor Squad,” Twilight addressed them. After they had relaxed a bit, she asked, “Do you all have everything you wish to bring with you? We don’t know how long we will be in Zebrica.”

“We all got here within the hour, so I think my squad is ready to kick some dogs in their furry hindquarters. If we do this right, we’ll be out of her within the week,” Long shot answered, fiery determination easily noticeable in his voice.

Twilight's only response was to press her muzzle to her shoulder radio. “All hooves, brace for long range teleportation to Zebrica. Nimbus, take us out.”

Applebloom picked up her duffle bag and trotted into the open bay of Meteor Squad’s personal dropship. She was soon followed by the rest of the team. As they took their seats, a familiar purple fog enveloped everything in sight. After a few somewhat horrendous moments of being covered in the semi-sticky and sweet smelling magical substance, it faded. A low rumble began to course through the zeppelin as its hangar door slid open, letting in a rush of warm, moist air that hit the dropship, and its occupants, like a wall.

Clockwork watched as the Vikare lifted off and depart as fluidly as water itself. Every so often, he would switch his view from the jungle just outside to his crewmates within. Despite everypony appearing calm, cool, and collected, he could almost feel the tension and fear in the air. No matter how many missions were under one’s belt, there was always the chance that something unexpected, something one wasn’t prepared to deal with, would occur. The pegasus’ attention turned to his commander, who was whispering some kind of chant in the language of his species as he tapped the butt of his rifle against the Vikare’s floor. All anypony could do now until they landed was try to get into a comfortable position amongst the several large crates that occupied the majority of the transport’s hold.

The tense mood suddenly vanished as the dropship came to a gentle halt on the moist dirt of the designated landing zone, replaced entirely by an eerie silence, fear, and indecision as to how to proceed. No more than twenty feet from the dropship was a single zebra mare, crouched down on three hooves like a cat.

Her dark violet eyes didn’t greet the newcomers with joy, or amusement, or anything, really. She had a full head of hair, something that Clockwork hadn’t seen on a zebra before, one that was styled in the fashion of simple, tight dreadlocks alternatively dyed black and gold, giving her a undeniably exotic appearance. She looked surprisingly thin, but Clockwork didn’t know if that was from a lack of food or her metabolism. The zebra held a spear in her free hoof, an ornate weapon from which several small charms and trophies dangled near the blade.

Clockwork couldn’t see the tip of the spear, given that it had been driven up into the neck of a diamond dog, one that greatly resembling the seven other rapidly cooling corpses around the mare. Without showing even the tiniest amount of strain, the warrior made two clean cuts, one causing blood to erupt from the beast’s neck, the other from its gut. It was dead long before it hit the ground.

After slaying the creature, she swung her weapon close to the ground as she met the gaze of the Equestrians; a low arc of blood spattered the yellow dirt like paint from an artist’s brush. Clockwork realized that, even with with the knowledge of the mare in front of him most likely being the ally the squad had been told they would meet, he was horrified at the sight before him.

“Ah,” the mare spoke, voice low and commanding as she rose from her crouched position, paying no attention to the fact that her coat was now both equal parts red and white. “At last, the noble cavalry arrives. Welcome to Zebrica, slaves of the Burning Sun. My name is Mganga.”