***

"We're gonna help you kick the evil Equestria in the flank."
Rainbow Dash, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Canterlot Train Station, Canterlot, May 7th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

Twilight stepped off of the train and onto the platform, a feeling of dread hanging over her like the proverbial black cloud. Behind her, she could feel the tension coming from her friends as well. They'd gotten the first train they could to Canterlot, packing supplies and other essentials and heading off at first light.

Twilight could still remember the confused, teary-eyed expression Spike had worn, the dragon not understanding why Twilight had to go. She hadn't had the heart to tell him that she was going to help in a war. She didn't really have the heart to go to war at all - but Celestia had called and she would answer.

The station was full of hustle and bustle - Guards were going hither and thither, looking harried or concerned. Officers were calling orders, and porters were pushing large boxes of what might have been equipment through the streets. The city was gearing up for something - you could tell.

“So,” Rarity said grimly. “I believe it would be a safe bet to say the human’s the reason for this.”

“One human causin’ this much fuss?” Applejack commented.

“It isn't necessarily the case that he's the enemy,” Rarity said quietly. “Perhaps the mare he actually sought is.”

“What, some evil future version of Celestia with a bad goatee?” Rainbow Dash said with a derisive snort. “C’mon, Rare. That's just -”

“We can't rule anything out,” Twilight said, silencing everypony. “We’ve been called, the call’s gone out, which means something big is happening. That's the important thing.”

“Besides, the goatee would be unfashionable,” Rarity added.

Lyra stepped up to stand next to her.

“It's been a while since I came back,” she said quietly. “There's a few guys I come visit once in awhile, but it's been… I don't know. I haven't been since about… four months before the Mole visit, maybe?”

Twilight glanced back at her. “It's… been a long time since I saw any of the old crowd either.”
She chuckled. “I wonder how Moondancer is… it was Moondancer, wasn't it?”

“Yeah,” Lyra smiled - Twilight had never been the best at names in the old days. “She… yeah. Best not.”

Twilight sighed. “And now the Clarion Call’s gone up.”

“Bon-Bon was acting all weird about it too,” Lyra said with a slight frown. “Like she was spooked.”

“So she should be,” Twilight said, “given what it means.”

Lyra shrugged. “I’ve never read about it.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “For somepony who’s made a study of the obscure, you seem to miss some big deals in our history.”

Lyra shrugged. “It was Equestria’s history or a thorough study of the old Primatian Empire before the sundering. No contest.”

“... right,” Twilight said, a soft smile upon her face. “It’s an ancient spell - a kind of war-horn, summoning the forces of Equestria to battle. It’s kind of a sign of imminent, terrifying catastrophe.”

“So… it’s like a Pinkie Sense, but for the whole of Equestria?” Pinkie put in, coming up from behind them.

Twilight chuckled. “Not quite. But it’s got the same connotations as a Pinkie Sense in one way.” She paused. “It’s a sign of things to come.”

“Like the Gjallarhorn?” Pinkie asked.

“...Yes, exactly,” Lyra said. “Wait, how do you know about-”

“...Don’t question it,” Twilight sighed. “The Clarion Call, though, it’s never called on when things are perfectly fine.”

With that somewhat ominous phrase, she started trotting up the path to the castle. No doubt, there was a lot of work to do.

***

Canterlot Barracks.

Guardspony True Grit stood to attention, the forest-green Unicorn looking the very image of an Equestrian Royal Guard, as Commander Flash Sentry stepped up, moving to address the entire Canterlot 2nd Regiment. Sentry was a recent addition to the command structure, but he seemed solid enough, if a little… florid.

“Mares and gentlestallions,” he said seriously, “you’ve seen the Clarion. We have been summoned to answer a threat to Equestria. We don’t have any details yet, but scuttlebutt is that this is a big one.”

“Sir?” one of the guards next to Grit said in a soft voice. “Is it the Griffons?”

“Don’t count on it,” Sentry said with a knowing smile. “I know there's going to be a lot of speculation - the white horse knows I’m curious myself - but I don’t want any rumour-mongering, guys. I want us to focus on preparing - Sergeant Sternguard will run through some basic jobs we need to cover. Guards Timber, Press, Hoof and Grit will join Sergeant Stronghoof for training on shieldbearer duty.”

Grit exchanged a glance with his friend, a grey Earth Pony named Steady Hoof, who was stood next to him. Shieldbearers hadn’t been used in years, not since General Steelblood’s attack on the Rok. They were, charitably, heavy duty gear, and you didn’t break them out unless something serious was going down - which it hadn't since that fight.

“Remember,” Sentry said as he finished giving out orders. “I want speculation at the minimum. First pony I hear saying we’re going to war with tentacle monsters from the Xth Dimension gets latrine duty for three months.”

With that, he headed off, leaving the Guards in the hooves of their Sergeants. Stronghoof, at least, was a fair, if gruff, old stallion with a bit of a sense of humour. Compared to Sternguard - a stallion with a pole shoved so far up his plot he could use it as a tongue - he was practically a saint.

“So,” Steady Hoof asked quietly. “Whaddya think, True? Who’re we up against?”

True Grit frowned slightly. “You heard the Commander, Stead. No scuttlebutting, yeah?”

Steady Hoof made a vague ‘pfft’ noise. “He isn’t exactly telepathic. We can talk.”

Grit sighed. “I… honestly, Celestia knows what we’re up against.” He smirked. “Heck, she probably does.”

“Yeah,” Hoof said, his expression darkening. “Is it just me, or is this horseapples probably bigger than they want to tell us?”

Grit sighed. “Worrying about it won't help.”

“Hoof, Grit!” Stronghoof called from over by the armoury. “Get your plots over here, double time!”

Steady Hoof grimaced. “Yes sir! On our way!”

True Grit grinned slightly as the two of them jogged over to where he was already speaking with Timber and Press. He appreciated Stronghoof’s leadership skills - stallion knew when to be a hard case and when not to be. Steady Hoof tended to not like any of the sergeants - he was a more relaxed individual - but even he could appreciate it when a Sergeant was good at his work.

“Alright, you lazy collection of plotwipes,” Stronghoof said with a grin as the two approached him, both standing to attention. “Shieldbearer duty - tricky business. You know what you’re doing?”

The soldiers shook their heads.

“And why the buck not?” Stronghoof asked.

“Shieldbearers haven’t been used in yonks,” Steady Hoof pointed out. “Er, sir.”

“It's not even covered in basic beyond a few history lessons, sir,” True Grit said with a slight frown of confusion.

“You’re right about that,” Stronghoof said, a scowl on his face. “But that doesn’t mean that you should be unfamiliar with equipment and tactics used in this pony’s army!” His scowl dropped, revealing a smirk. “Fortunately for you lads, you’re speaking to an expert.”

True Grit and Steady Hoof suppressed groans. This was going to be a long conversation…

***

Elsewhere in the barracks, Corporal Errant Flight stood at attention in a small office, as his senior officer, Stormwing, entered the room, looking mildly miffed. Errant Flight had his helmet off, exposing an auburn coat and light brown main, and saluted.

“Sir!” he said.

Stormwing gave him a look that was somewhere between a resigned tiredness and bemusement.

“Corporal,” he said grimly. “Glad you’re here.”

Errant dropped the salute after a moment.

“Corporal Flight,” the officer said. “Do you know why you’ve been demoted three times from the rank of Sergeant back to Corporal?”

Errant Flight gulped. “Uh, yes sir. Disorderly conduct, sir.”

Stormwing raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘disorderly’ for me, son.”

“...Behavior unbecoming of a royal guardsman?”

“Buck, that’s the manual’s definition,” Stormwing said. “I didn’t put you through training to parrot a manual, give me specifics right now!”

Errant grimaced slightly. “Uh, drinking and gambling, sir.”

“Drinking and gambling,” Stormwing repeated. “Do you know why you keep getting re-promoted?”

“Uh, no sir,” Errant admitted.

Stormwing sighed heavily. “Your scores are damn high. You’re a good leader on a team basis, the ponies who follow you respect you because you’re basically just like them, and you’ve never gotten a pony so much as scratched in a test encounter. That’s high quality to be wasting ‘drinking and gambling’, and we know that well enough to keep giving you chances. But now, things are different.”

Errant swallowed - this was doubtless where things were about to get… painful.

“We’re going to war, boy,” Stormwing said grimly. “Ponies are going to die. The Clarion Call isn’t a beacon for some border skirmish with some upstart inbred Griffon Duke who thinks he should have a bigger back garden, or some Dragon Lord who wants more pillows-”

Errant tried desperately not to make a witty comment.

“-I know what you’re thinking. It happened, we don’t like to talk about it,” Stormwing said irritably. “All the Princess said afterward was ‘be thankful he wasn’t a Draconnissian’, whatever the heck that means.” He paused. “The Clarion Call means catastrophe. C-A-T-A-S-T-R-O-P-H-E. This is a war that we’re going into and probably not coming out of. Just because we don’t know who we’re fighting yet, that don’t mean we won’t soon, and I guarantee you, we don’t have enough troops.”

Errant frowned, not sure where his officer was going with this.

“Therefore, Commander Sentry has authorised me to organise the Cloudsdale Militia,” Stormwing said grimly. “I am personally going to rile the Pegasi of our first city back into their natural state of wanting to personally run some bucker through with a sharp object. You, Corporal Flight - or should I say Drill Sergeant Flight - will be accompanying me to make sure that this is done right, and those ponies get high quality training!”

Errant widened his eyes. He knew the situation was serious, but actually raising a militia?

“Sir, if I may,” he said, “I don’t believe I can -”

“I don’t care what you can or cannot do, Flight,” Stormwing snapped. “We are not here for that. We’re here for the Clarion Call, for Princesses, and Country. In that cause, you can and you will, am I clear?!”

Errant snapped to attention. “Sir, yes sir!”

“Good!” Stormwing said. “Now get your plot packed and ready to go with the training squad in the next hour!”

Errant saluted again, put his helmet back on and dashed out of the room.

This… was not how he had expected today to go. It was a lot scarier than he had expected today to go.

So now I get to train a bunch of civvies in fighting, and then after that I probably get to join them and go die, he thought to himself. Great. So much for a cushy Guard job like my mother wanted me to get.

***

Canterlot Courtyard.

Celestia stood quietly, overlooking the display as the Royal Guard began arraying themselves for battle.

The Canterlot 1st, 2nd and 3rd Royal “Day” Guard were all arrayed before her in parade formation, standing fifty to a row. Three long, disciplined lines filled the primary courtyard in complete silence, the only noise the sound of weaponry shifting slightly in the wind. Sunlight glinted off their golden armour and steel weaponry as they awaited her inspection.

On the flanks of the three columns were the Canterlot 1st and 2nd Night Guard, their blue and purple armour a sharp contrast with the glaring brilliance of their counterparts. They too stood to attention, but cut a far more lean and predatory figure than the solid ponies of her Day Guard. At the front of each formation were seven rows of Thestrals, the bat-ponies standing as stiffly as their true-pony comrades but exuding a more wolfish aura of readiness.

These were her sister’s forces, five thousand of the finest soldiers Equestria had to offer at this point. More would come of course but they did not have the time to wait for them. A move had to be made and a presence in the other world - this Earth - had to be established. Time was of the essence and so the Princess of the Night had volunteered to make the first move.

They were only part of the force she was sending - elements of the Canterlot 5th, 7th and 10th, the Cloudsdale Militia and the 112th Equestrian Magi corp were being assembled to join these units as well: Celestia had called upon every regiment she could, and was only going to call more. She was preparing everything.

Row after row of solid Guardsponies now stood before Princess Celestia, their spears raised high at attention. The Earth Ponies and Unicorns carrying them stood tall and proud, the dignity of their regiments evident in their still expressions and noble bearing. In front of them, standing three rows deep, were ponies carrying immense square shields on their back. Celestia knew that every one of the heavy barricades was heavily enchanted. The moment the brave ponies carrying them planted them in the ground they would hold fast, yielding to nothing.

Pegasi regiments waited at the rear of the impressive formations, virtually indistinguishable from their ground-bound brethren but carrying themselves with a more loose dignity than the steady Earth Ponies and Unicorns. Even at attention, with no threat present before them, the Pegasi of the Royal Guard looked ready to leap at a foe at a moment’s notice.

Behind the assemblage was a more impressive sight. Three massive towers thrust into the air, looming over the ponies. Decorated in shining gold and deep purple, the massive constructs shone in the sun. Ornate balustrades and balconies crewed by Unicorns hung from the side and at the top was a marble white dome that pivoted on golden bracing. Sticking out of one side of the dome was the large barrel of an Arcannon. What stood out the most for these constructs, however, was the fact that they were all hovering at least five feet above the ground, the rounded base of each thirty five foot structure floating steadily in the air.

These were the Royal Bastions, three specially made Starlit Towers built to support the Canterlot Guard divisions. Not since the Third New Eagleland invasion had they been taken from the city limits.

“We’ve had some trouble readjusting to the shields, but they should be good for field use,” an officer by the name of Commander Charlie Horse (son of Gift Horse, an esteemed toymaker - the Commander’s life choices had, suffice it to say, confused quite a few ponies). “Haven't seen ‘em used except in basic.”

“This conflict will require everything we can throw at it,” Celestia said quietly.

“I’ll take you at your word on that, your highness,” Charlie Horse said. “Since we still don't know what we’re fighting.”

Celestia glanced sidelong at the Earth Pony commander. “Speak freely, by all means.”

The Earth Pony sighed. “Sorry, your highness. I just… your soldiers will fight any war, for any cause you ask.”

I know, she thought with a sudden twinge of guilt. And maybe you shouldn't.

“But we like knowing who we’re fighting,” Charlie Horse finished. “This secrecy’s getting to the troops - and frankly, it’s getting to me.”

Celestia nodded. “When Princess Luna assumes command of this expeditionary force, she will explain everything in full.”

Charlie Horse frowned slightly. “Yes, your highness.”

Celestia noted the tone of his reply, but said nothing more. She knew that many of the Guard, much as Luna had now become a staple of Equestria’s society, still weren't sure about the Lunar Diarch. She had never led these ponies in battle - had never proven herself to them, not like Celestia had. The last time Luna had stood alongside ponies in battle, it had been a millennia ago.

That was, in part, one of the reasons that Celestia had assigned the Night Guard to this mission. The Thestrals remembered Luna as one of their most revered figures - so much so that the Lunar Diarch’s absence had caused the Thestrals to become isolationist, a trait even now they had barely gotten past. There were very few Thestrals - the members of the newly reinstated Night Guard aside - living outside of their traditional lands.

Celestia sighed. She hoped that Luna would be up to this - as much as she trusted her sister’s skill, it had been a long time since she had led ponies into combat. Her Guard, much as she hated to admit it, had been forced to adapt - even if very little - to the changing tides of war.

“My lady?” a soft voice said from behind Celestia, disturbing her thoughts.

She turned to see one of her adjutants, a nervous looking Pegasus mare, standing nearby. “Yes, Fret?”

“The Element Bearers are at the Palace awaiting your presence,” the mare said quietly. “Should I ask them to come down?”

“No,” Celestia said quietly. “No, I’ll go up. Is there any word on Captain Shining Armour’s return?”

“He’s sent word ahead that he and Princess Cadenza shall be here soon,” Fret said quietly. “And, uh… Prince Blueblood has requested to have his position in the Day Guard reinstated.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Blueblood has?”

“Yes, your highness,” Fret said quietly. “Uh… he was quite insistent. And… uh… possibly drunk.”

Celestia couldn't help but smile slightly. She had always assumed his dispute with his father had put him off military service. Still, he had been a competent officer in his time - he might not have been the equal of his father, but he would have gone quite far.

“We don't have room for him in the Guard - assign him command of the Sunrider and a naval commission,” she said eventually. “Inform him he will be sent in with the second wave.” She smirked. “That is, if he doesn’t change his mind when he sobers up.”

“Yes, your highness,” Fret said. With a bow, she moved off.

Celestia sighed and turned back to Charlie Horse. “Carry on, Commander.”

“Yes, your highness,” Horse said curtly.

Celestia spread her wings and took to the sky, heading back to the throne room - it was time to move quickly.

***

David Elliot’s room.

Princess Luna, a leather saddlebag at her side, stepped into the room her sister had designated for the human’s recovery. She moved as quietly as she could, so as not to disturb his rest, but it proved unnecessary - the human was awake, sat up on the bed, looking for all the world like he didn’t know what he was doing there. When she entered, he glanced at her immediately. Luna tensed, but to her surprise he did not move.

“Hello,” he said quietly, smiling slightly.

She nodded in greeting, though for the moment she remained silent.

“I guess you wanted to come and stare at the weird human thing,” he said, a mirthless smile on his face. “Can’t say as I blame you - according to a bunch of the guys I know, ponies haven’t ever -”

“I’ve met humans before you,” Luna said simply, cutting him off. “A long time ago, there was a civilisation of humans on Equus. We never interacted with them much in the old days, but they did exist.” She paused. “That was before the Discordant age, though.”

He didn’t ask what that was. His expression was neutral - or at least, she thought it was neutral. She’d never been overly good at recognising the more subtle human facial expressions even when she had met them before.

“What can I do for you?” he asked after a long moment. “That is, assuming you didn’t come to gloat.”

“‘Gloat’?” Luna repeated.

“Yeah, gloat,” the human said, and now there was genuine mirth in his expression. “You’re the one who took me out, after all.”

Luna paused, thinking back to their fight. “Yes, I suppose I did manage to knock you out - though it was hardly the most glorious victory I’ve ever won, under the circumstances.”

“I’d call it a cheap shot, myself,” the human said with a smirk.

Luna raised an eyebrow. “A ‘cheap shot’, indeed? Perhaps you would care for a rematch?”

The human’s smirk faded. “Maybe another time, Your Highness.” He paused. “David Elliot, by the way.”

“Excuse me?” Luna asked, frowning in confusion.

“You didn't ask what my name was,” the human clarified. “It’s David Elliot. I’m a Major. Also, technically, a ‘Force Commander’, though that one’s nebulous as all heck.”

Luna nodded again. “It is good to meet you, Force Commander - at least, good to meet you without having you try to chop my head off.”

“Yeah, that was a bit of an… interesting introduction,” Elliot agreed, a slight sarcastic tint to his tone. “Still. You didn’t come here to talk about that.”

“No,” Luna said quietly. She turned to the saddlebag she carried and brought out a small scroll. “I came to show you this.”

He took the scroll from her, frowning slightly as he did so, before looking over the scroll. His eyes narrowed as he read, before he looked Luna in the eyes.

“This is a list of units,” he said.

“Five full regiments of Day and Night Guard, and elements from at least five more,” Luna confirmed with a nod. “All that could be summoned on such short notice. We have more being assembled for a second wave, but you will doubtless understand that these things do take time.”

Elliot rolled up the scroll, handing it back to Luna, who took it with a nod. He turned away from her for a moment.

“She meant it,” he said quietly, almost disbelieving. “She actually meant it.”

Luna frowned. “What do you mean?”

He turned to look at her, his expression unreadable, but his eyes full of something almost like… hope.

“I didn’t believe your sister when she said she’d send help,” he said softly. “I thought…”

“You thought it was too good to be true,” Luna said quietly. “I can well understand that, if your situation is as dire as she tells me.”

“We haven’t had good news like this for years,” he said softly. “Actually it’s been mostly bad news. The steel wall in 31, first battle of London in 30, the battle of Manchester in 25…” He trailed off, closing his eyes for a moment, before opening them again. “You get the picture.”

“It has been… difficult,” Luna guessed.

“It’s been pretty much impossible at times,” Elliot smirked mirthlessly. “But we’ve managed. Well, we’ve not all died yet. Not sure that counts as ‘managing’.”

“Sometimes, ‘not dying’ is a victory in itself,” the Lunar Diarch said with a soft, reassuring smile.

Elliot’s smile turned bitter. “Yeah - and not an easy one. Sometimes it isn’t a victory everyone wins. Not one you come back from thinking you won, either.”

Luna nodded slowly. “That, I know too well.”

The two of them sat in silence for a long moment, letting the words they had spoken hang in the air.

“I'm sorry,” Elliot said after a long pause. “I didn't want her to send anyone - anypony. It's not why I came here.”

“No, you came here by accident,” Luna said with the ghost of a smile. “But do not apologise - I may not have been as eager to jump into this battle as my sister, but she is right when she says that we should not shirk this duty. Good and evil are not changed simply because one is a different shape and comes from another land.”

Elliot nodded, smiling again. “Then, thank you, Princess Luna. I never knew you in my world, but I see now that I would have liked to.” He took a breath. “What do you need from me?”

Luna looked back to the scroll. “You can see here the unit lists - as I said, every soldier we could summon at short notice. I will need your help figuring out how best to deploy them. The terrain they will be entering, what sort of weapons we will be facing.”

Elliot sucked in a deep breath. “Alright, let's have a look.”

***

Canterlot Palace Throne Room.

Celestia was standing by her throne, looking pensive, when Twilight and her friends arrived. Only a handful of times had Twilight seen Celestia looking that worried: chief amongst them was when Discord had broken out of his prison.

“Princess Celestia?” Twilight asked. “Are you ok?”

Celestia looked at her. “Twilight. It's good that you and your friends are here. We’ve much to discuss.”

Twilight nodded at that. “You sent the Clarion Call.”

“I did,” Celestia said quietly. “You know what it means?”

“With all due respect, your highness,” Rarity said from behind Twilight, and Twilight glanced back at her, “Twilight may know, but we’re still sort of in the dark ourselves. Twilight explained that the Clarion Call is a call to war - but… well, what war, with whom?”

Celestia smiled at that. “Now, that would be the difficult question.”

“Beggin’ yer pardon, Princess, Ah reckon all the most important ones are,” Applejack said quietly.

“That is true,” Celestia agreed. “This question is a particularly strange one, though, and the answer stranger still.”

“If I may, Princess,” Rarity said, and Celestia nodded. “It’s something to do with the human, that much seems clear - but is the war against his people, or is it something else?”

Celestia’s smile faded somewhat. “No, the war is not against his people. In fact, we are going to war to help save them.”

There was a pause as the Element bearers processed this.

“Save them?” Lyra repeated, sounding confused. “From what?”

“We have already seen part of this,” Celestia said quietly, looking at Twilight. “His memories were real. Another world, another Equestria. One bent on genocide.”

“An… an Equestria that… that’s trying to destroy a whole race?” Fluttershy stammered, her eyes wide. “I…why?”

“The ‘why’ is a question we can ask when we are granted the time,” Celestia said quietly. “Right now, we are faced with a single course of action - to intervene.”

There was another long pause.

“How?” Twilight finally asked.

“Princess Luna will be leading a first wave,” Celestia said quietly, turning away from the group and heading for the window. “From there, more troops will be sent to reinforce that initial wave. Your brother, Twilight, will be among those reinforcements.” Celestia paused. “And you six, and Miss Heartstrings as well, will have your part to play.”

“What part, Princess?” Rarity asked, frowning slightly. “Forgive me, but none of us are soldiers. We can't fight.”

“Speak for yourself!” Rainbow put in with a smirk. “I’ll kick that evil Equestria’s flank, no problem!”

“Rarity’s right,” Fluttershy said quietly. “We’re not trained soldiers. We can't just go into a fight and expect to win.”

“Then what?” Rainbow asked with a snort.

“We could throw parties?” Pinkie put in.

Rainbow facehoofed. “Parties won't -”

“No, hear me out!” Pinkie insisted. “Wars make ponies unhappy - I bet it makes humans unhappy too! So parties can make them happy again!”

For a moment, there was an awkward silence, and then, to everypony’s surprise, Celestia chuckled.

“Pinkie Pie,” she said quietly, a soft smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye, “you are wiser than you know. And you're right - there will come a point where making these humans feel happiness again, even for a short time, will be as great a victory as any on the battlefield.” Her smile faded. “But first, unfortunately, we must win a victory on the battlefield.”

Twilight took a deep breath, and shared a glance with the others. They gave her resolute nods, even Fluttershy looking determined, despite the fear in her eyes. Twilight turned to look back at the Princess.

“What do you need us to do?” she asked.

***