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Flight 19

by Goldenarbiter

Chapter 24: Chapter 19: The Reckoning

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“Sir? Captain?”

Golden Sword groaned and opened one eye to peer blearily up at the human crouched next to him. “Yes, what is it?”

“Sorry to wake you Sir, but it looks like we’ve got a storm blowing up.” Gruebel gestured upwards at the sky. “Captain Stivers suggested we go ahead and pack up before all our sh—uh, stuff gets soaked, sir.”

“Very well.” Sword drew in a deep breath and sighed heavily. “What time is it?”

“Darker than a gryphon’s asshole. Maybe an hour before dawn, Sir.”

The pony groaned aloud. “Thank you. I’m awake, go ahead and get the others roused.” The human moved away as Sword tucked a foreleg under himself and pushed, lifting his upper body up until he sat in a half crouch, his hind legs still splayed out under the comfortable warmth of his blanket. He tilted his head back and glared blearily up at the dark sky above him, where the storm clouds swirled uncomfortably close. They were still a fair distance up the mountainside, and the height brought the low-lying rain clouds up close and personal. A single cold droplet of water splashed on his cheek and Sword flicked his ears in irritation, muttering a particularly vile epithet at the heavens. He slid out from underneath his blankets and stretched before beginning to bundle up the bedding, packing it roughly away in his saddlebags. The blanket fought back stubbornly as he laid it out and tried to fold it neatly away, catching the edges in his teeth and folding it in neat halves that grew smaller and smaller until he was satisfied.

Another cold drop touched him on the shoulder, and a third quickly followed, setting into his golden-blonde forelock with an icy touch. Shivering, he abandoned the attempt to be neat and began cramming his belongings rapidly into his pack, the sides of the fabric bulging alarmingly. It wouldn’t even come close to passing any sort of inspection, but that was the last thing he was worried about right now.

Heavy footsteps crunched in the undergrowth as Stivers walked over toward him, his own pack looking similarly distressed as it bobbed on the human's shoulders. “Need any help?”

“No, I think I’ve got the lot of it, here.” Sword rapped the pack with the back of a forehoof irritably. “Probably buried something important on the bottom that I’ll need in a hurry later though. That’s how it usually goes.” The pony sighed and pulled at the straps on his armour, tightening the suit up around his frame.

“Well, you have your sword, right?”

“Of course.” Golden Sword patted his namesake weapon where it was slung at his side.

Stivers grinned. “You got four hooves?”

“Yes.” Sword eyed the Marine oddly. “Why?”

“You got your weapon and your feet. You can walk into combat. Equipment check, done.” Stivers stuck a thumb up in a gesture of approval and moved off to round up the others.

Sword stared after him for a moment, a wry smile twitching at the corner of the pony’s mouth. I think I’m going to steal that little gem on our next deployment exercise. He hoisted his pack onto his shoulders and then picked up his helmet and settled it firmly on his head. “All right, ladies! Saddle up and fall in. Let’s see how well you march in the rain.” A chorus of groans promptly responded, and he suppressed a laugh. “Keep an eye on each other. It looks to be nasty, and I don’t want anypony wandering off the trail.”

“Or off the mountainside, either,” Gruebel said, elbowing Thompson.

“Oh, ha-ha,” the other Marine said sourly. “You’re so funny, you and Joe E. Brown should go on tour together.”

Sword stopped beside them and looked at them appraisingly. “Good to see you in high spirits. You won’t mind taking the point then, would you?”

The two winced gratifyingly. “No, sir, no problem at all,” Gruebel managed.

“That’s good.” The pony motioned invitingly with a forehoof. “Lead on then.” He raised his voice. “Oh, and whoever slips first gets first watch tonight. So do watch your step, hmm?”

There were several laughs, and Stivers rapped the pony’s armour with his knuckles as he passed by. “Hardass.”

“Am I? I had no idea,” Sword offered innocently. “Let’s move out!”

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The clouds belied their visible threat, mumbling and grumbling overhead, but the random dripping of rain changed into a light mist that seemed to settle in to stay, soaking slowly into the groups cloaks and making them drag heavily as they walked. Dim light slowly grew around them as the sun rose behind the thick overcast, revealing the rocky slope and forested area to their right in gloomy details of grey and dull green. The path became slick with moisture as the light rain continued to mist downward around them, and Sword’s warning passed beyond idle jest as several of the group came close to slipping more than once as they made their way back down the mountainside path. Gruebel slid hard at one particularly steep area, the Marine crouching down with his arms held out for balance as he slipped forward for nearly ten feet before catching his balance. Puffing hard, he glanced over his shoulder at Sword, who was eyeing him with concern. “I didn’t actually fall over, so that doesn’t count, right?”

“Forget about that,” Sword replied. “Are you okay?”

“Yessir. Just wounded my pride a bit.”

“No harm done, then.” Sword moved forward gingerly, stepping on the slick patch himself and crouching down, his wings twitching involuntarily as he slid slowly down as well. Nearing Gruebel, the stallion hit a small rock with the edge of a forehoof and did a quick stutterstep before regaining his balance. “Well, that was almost interesting.” He eyed the Marine a bit sheepishly. “Although going face first into the mud might improve morale somewhat.” He turned to watch as the others began negotiating the slick area one by one. “I’ve done worse.”

“Mud washes off, sir,” Gruebel offered diplomatically. He tilted his head back to glare up at the cloud deck overhead. “You guys control weather, right? Can’t you just make this crap go away or something?”

“We could fly up and shove the cloud around, yes, but it might do more harm than good.” Sword paused to watch as Taylor took the slick patch like a downhill skier, the pilot crouching down and staring intently forward as if preparing for a competition jump. “Careful, Lieutenant.”

Taylor winked at him as he slid past and hit solid ground once more. “He reaches the finish line, and the crowd goes wild!” He raised his hands overhead, waving to invisible applause. “Thank you, thank you, you’re too kind. Where’s my gold medal?”

“More likely a Purple Heart for that one, sir,” Gruebel noted. “You take a header on the rocks, you’re gonna need stitches and then some.”

“That’s what I like about you, Gruebel, you’re so cheerful and positive all the time.” Taylor pinched the Marine’s cheek and moved aside to make room for Shadow, who was just beginning his slide. “C’mon, let’s see how many points he gets for style!”

“Don’t you dare,” Sword warned the other pony. Shadow, who needed no such warning, slid down carefully, his legs locked and his mouth set in a firm line. Sword watched him move off, then glanced up at Gruebel again. “Pegasi can naturally manipulate clouds and the like, but it takes special training to be a weather pony and actually control the weather. Our training is more of the martial sort, I’m afraid, so to be quite honest, we have no idea how to go about it.”

“Oh. Well...actually, that makes sense, I guess.” Gruebel reached up with one hand and wiped away a film of water and sweat from his own forehead. “How about the unicorns? Not all of them do magic, then?”

“Magic’s an inherent trait in unicorns, but they all utilize it differently according to their natural gift and inclination.” Sword shrugged. “I know several in the guard who only use it for simple levitation of objects around the barracks, sort of like an extra set of hooves. Or hands, as it were. Some of the ones who are better at it might use it to trip up an enemy, but they still use their hooves to use their weapons. Only trained sorcerers go in for magical combat. And the princesses, of course.”

“How about the purple one with the attitude back where we met? Sparkle-something or other?”

“Miss Twilight Sparkle.” Sword enunciated the pony’s name with careful precision. “That would be a trained sorcerer. Not all of them are in the military, but all of them are trained, to a greater or lesser degree, by the princesses.” The pony watched absently as Midnight, who had been bringing up the rear of the group, began sliding slowly downslope, her wings outstretched to full extension to control her speed. “Hrmph. Wish I’d thought of that…”

“Really? I didn’t see her do much while we were in town at the time.”

“Magic, powerful magic in particular, is not something you wander around showing off. At least, most unicorns don’t, unless they’re entertainers or the like.” Sword looked on as Midnight glided to a stop near them and folded her wings to her sides once more. “Twilight Sparkle is also one of the Elements of Harmony. And as much as her habit of getting distracted annoys me, her power has been demonstrated more than once.” He glanced up at Gruebel. “I wouldn’t want to take her on with a whole battalion of troops.”

The Marine blinked. “She’s that strong?”

“She’s quite capable of flattening Ponyville and everyone in it, were she so inclined. Since she’s not, she makes an ideal guardian for it.” Sword stretched and looked the group over. “All right then, everypony shipshape? Equipment check. Make sure you didn’t lose anything coming downhill.”

As the humans in the group started patting their pockets, the ponies likewise looked themselves over. Gallivan wandered through the group, glancing here and there at the others before nodding. “Looks like we’re good to go, sir.”

The clouds overhead rumbled again, a deep bass sound that shook the earth made the very air tremble. “None too soon,” Sword allowed. “Anypony need a short breather?”

“If it’s all the same to you sir, I’d like to push on.” Star glanced about them uneasily. “I don’t know if it’s the storm or what, but this place is giving me the jitters right now.” His wings flicked out, and the pegasus lifted into the air a short distance, gazing downhill in the direction they’d been heading. “We’re not really that far from the main road now. We could take a break when we reach it, maybe; it’s more open and easier to keep an eye out.”

Stivers frowned as he looked up at where Star hovered in place. “Something got your nose out of joint here?”

“Nothing I can lay a hoof on, sir… just a feeling.” Star shrugged, his voice reluctant. “I just… don’t like it here for some reason.”

“That’s fine, then. We’ll take your advice and push on until we hit the main road before we stop for a break.” Sword stepped forward as Star alighted once more on the ground. “Come on, you and I will take the point for a bit and keep an eye out, hmm?”

The relief on Star’s face was evident. “That’d be great, thank you sir.” The two moved off together, the rest of the group falling back into their single-file marching formation with Midnight bringing up the rear of the column once again.

Golden Sword cast a wary eye around himself, peering at the scrub brush and the trees which were beginning to appear on both sides of the path once again, the rock face to their left falling back and becoming less steep as they descended the mountain side. “Did you see anything while you were up there?” he asked in a low voice.

“No, sir.” Star’s ears flicked rapidly, the pony glancing from one side to another. The trees lined both sides of the path now, and their overarching branches reached out and almost touched overhead, as if seeing to embrace each other to glory in their greenery. “Everything seemed okay. I’m sorry sir, I don’t want to sound like I’m crying ‘timberwolf’ or anything, but I just have this odd feeling.”

“It’s quite all right, lad. I trust your instincts.” Another rolling peal of thunder shook the air around them, and Sword glanced up reflexively. “It could be just the weather, though. Having this mess hanging about overhead would set anypony’s teeth on edge.”

“I guess so.” Star looked unconvinced. “I dunno, sir, it’s more like—”

“ENEMY ON THE RIGHT!”

Both pegasi jerked to a stop and whirled almost in unison at the shout from Gruebel. Peering into the underbrush, Sword saw a series of quick jerking movements, and then a telltale gleam. “DOWN!” he screamed, curling a foreleg around Star’s neck and yanking the other pony with him as he flattened himself to the ground. Several arrows cut through the air just above them, passing overhead with a deadly whispering sound before shattering against the rocks behind them. Sword released his hold on Star and grabbed for his weapon, glancing to one side and seeing the rest of the group prone on the trail, lying in a haphazard pattern where they’d all fallen at his shouted command. “AMBUSH! FORM UP!”

A harsh screeching sound emerged from the brush and the winged form of an armoured gryphon burst out of the undergrowth, diving towards them. Sword swung his weapon without thinking, and there was a ring of metal contacting metal as it was almost yanked from his grasp. The gryphon passed overhead, squalling in rage, gripping its own sword in one claw and swinging it wildly. “Tu alchak geldingu!”

“Taylor! Midnight! Covering fire!Sword yelled, rising to a low crouch. “Don’t let them get airborne—”

The heavens finally opened up overhead, the pent up fury of the storm unleashing itself on friend and foe alike as the rain hammered down upon them all. The air around them turned into a silvery, shimmering curtain of water, the cold drops thrumming upon the armour of the pegasi and cutting their visibility to practically nil as it splashed and roared on the bare rocks and brush nearby. Sword looked over at Star and saw the pony crouched, his spear held ready, peering back behind them where the gryphon had vanished. “Visual?”

“None! He’s gone, sir. I can’t see two lengths in this!”

“Steady, lad. That means he can’t see us, either.” The combination of the downpour and the branches overhead had lowered the light level dramatically; the spot was ideal for an ambush, and the guard captain cursed himself for not paying closer attention to it earlier. Sword lowered his voice, leaning over to speak directly into Star’s ear. “Sight’s gone. We all stink like gryphon from that damned monastery, so forget your nose. Keep your ears tuned as best you can.”

“Yes, sir,” Star muttered back.

“Watch my back. We need to group up or they’re going to cut us to pieces one by one in this mess.” Without another word, the guard captain began slowly making his way back up the path toward where the others had been, praying to Celestia that they’d not moved too far.

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Gruebel crouched, shivering in the rain, his eyes flicking from one point to another. “Christ, what a total fuckup.” He glanced to his right, where Shadow stood, the crest on the pony’s helmet soaked and drooping. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Shadow replied curtly. The arrow that had begun the ambush had struck his armour and still lay buried in the metal plate; the fine alloy had held though and kept it from penetrating to the flesh beneath. The human had heard the thunk sound when it had struck and had called out instinctively. “Good job. Another second or two and we’ve have been food for the vultures.”

“Don’t celebrate yet, we ain’t out of the shit.” Gruebel was down on one knee, his short sword held close to his chest. “Wish I had my Garand right now. You see anyone else? Any movement?”

“Bucking everything’s moving,” Shadow hissed. The heavy rain and the low light made everything dance in his vision, shadows slipping this way and that, wavering and then disappearing again. Another rose up off to his left, and he squinted at it uncertainly. “I think—”

“Look out!”

Shadow grunted in surprise as something that felt like a brick wall slammed into his right side. The pony fell over and slid, his armour screeching grittily on the rock and mud underneath him, hooves scrabbling for purchase. A gryphon appeared out of the pounding rain, beak clacking as it uttered a string of unintelligible invective at Shadow. The pegasus started to push himself upright, then ducked reflexively as another form appeared on his other side. The gryphon backpedaled as Gruebel’s huge form hurdled the pony’s prostrate body, the Marine’s sword whickering through the air as he brought it down in a gleaming arc. The sword glanced off of the gryphon’s armour and then spun away as the human tackled the creature bodily, both of them rolling away.

Shadow lurched upright, preparing to follow, then heard a noise behind him. Without thinking the pegasus lashed out with his hind legs and felt them strike home solidly, along with a welcome screech of pain. He felt a line of pain scorch across the inside of one thigh as he drew back, and he cried out, spinning around to face his attacker. Another armoured gryphon lay on the ground, peering at him blearily, a bloody dagger clutched in one foreclaw. It locked gazes with him and hissed.

The pegasus crouched, ignoring the flash of pain in his hind leg, and leapt up, his wings flaring out for a moment. He brought them down with a grunt, shifting his weight and propelling himself downward sharply, his forehooves outstretched. The gryphon uttered a squawk as the guardpony slammed into it with his full weight, hooves landing squarely on the glaring face. There was a low crunching sound and the feathered form twitched violently underneath him before going limp.

“That’s one,” Shadow growled. He heard Gruebel curse loudly behind him and grinned, feeling his heart pounding deep within his chest. Spinning about, he lurched into a gallop, wings outstretched, charging toward the sound of battle. “HAR-AIIIIIII!”

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Thompson froze, clutching his spear tightly with both hands. “Jesus, somebody is seriously pissed.”

“That’s Shadow. Sounds like he’s having fun,” Hoof observed sourly. “You wanna get rid of that thing, or were you planning on keeping it as a Hearts and Hooves gift for somepony?”

“Oh, yeah.” Thompson glanced at the gryphon who had swooped out of the rain and spitted itself on his spear, the beast gaping at him haplessly for a moment before collapsing. With a grunt and a twist, he pulled his weapon free and held it across his body, knuckles white on the rough wooden shaft. “These fuckers are goddam crazy. Why the hell are they attacking us? I thought you guys were allies.”

“Damned if I know,” Crimson Hoof growled. “If they declared war, I didn’t get the bucking memo way out here.”

“Jesus Christ, will you two shut up??” a voice hissed.

Hoof and Thompson both whirled around to see Gallivan moving toward them slowly at a crouch. The Marine sergeant held a finger to his lips, pointed at his own eyes, then pointed off to their right, toward where the rear of the column had been. Thompson glanced at the pony, and Hoof met his gaze, their expressions identical. Ohhhh shit. They stood motionless, peering back up the trail as Gallivan moved slowly up until he was between them.

“I can hear you two bozos a mile away,” he muttered, just barely audible above the rain. “Seen any of our people?”

“Nope.” Hoof glanced nervously over one shoulder. “Most were up front. Lieutenant Midnight and Captain Stivers were the only ones behind us.”

“Alright, we gotta police up this cluster fuck. Both of you move to opposite sides of the trail. I’m goin up the middle, and we’ll head back and find them. Slow.” Gallivan glared at them intently. “You two are the flanks. Anybody goes after one of us, the other two can cover. We’ll get the skipper and the Ell-Tee and then head back up front. Got it?”

Thompson and Hoof nodded.

“Let’s move.” Gallivan touched them both briefly on the shoulder and then they began moving forward at a slow walking pace, spreading out into a shallow “V” shape with Gallivan at the apex.

Hoof glanced back once at the sergeant’s grim expression, then fixed his attention on the path before him. He’d wanted to mention the fact that Gallivan was unarmed, and in the spot most likely to get attention, but from the look on the Marine’s face, he could have cared less.

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Midnight froze at the first call of alarm, but Sword’s cry of Ambush! sent her immediately into motion. The mare shot into the air and jigged sideways to her left, unslinging her bow and aiming toward the heavily overgrown area on the right of the path. Glimpsing a sign of movement, she had taken aim, but then the downpour had destroyed her sightline and reduced the world to a gleaming silvery dance of random reflection on every side. Cursing mentally, she descended carefully and settled into a dense group of bushes that lay just off the trail below.

Small squealing noises against her armour and a few pinpricks of pain informed her that the bush had thorns, but she could have cared less at the moment. Ears perked fully upright, she looked slowly along the path as far as she could see, but the combination of rain and splashback made it almost impossible to see anything other than the path itself; the woods beyond were lost in a haze. She momentarily wished for the height of the humans; they could at least see above the dance of rain along the ground.

Which also made them better targets. A cold feeling wrapped around her chest and she hoped that nopony… or no one… had been caught in the initial onslaught. A burst of shouting and cursing from further down the path made her ears flick in that direction and she raised her head slightly, trying to will the rain aside to see what was going on. It died down abruptly, and she was about to drop back down when a pegasus war cry came rolling through the air. Shadow!

Ducking her head, Midnight shoved her way out of the bush, ignoring the screech of thorns along her sides. She turned to head down the path, but jerked to a stop as something grabbed hold of her tail. Without thinking, she dropped her bow and jerked her small dagger free from its side sheath, whirling and jerking her forehoof upward and out. The tug vanished, and she staggered back to see a swatch of her own tail caught in the bush where it had snagged on the thorns. Her dagger strike had cut it free, and a ragged clump of ebon hair hung flapping in the breeze from the branch that had seized it.

“Oh for Luna’s sake,” she muttered.

“Prayer won’t help you,” a voice said from behind her.

Midnight spun to her left, pivoting on her rear hooves, and saw a gryphon emerging from the brush on the far side of the trail. It grinned at her and raised a bow, the arrow already nocked and aimed directly at her. Her own bow lay on the ground a few feet away where it had landed after she had dropped it, but there was no possible way she could get to it before the foe before her could fire.

“Should have stayed home, little pony,” the gryhon hissed, and drew back on the bow. There was a low thwupp! sound and Midnight jerked instinctively, flinching away and closing her eyes.
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Stivers stood still, watching as the gryphon fell, slack-jawed, his arrow protruding from the side of its head. It slumped over onto the path and the Marine stepped forward, walking over to where Midnight sat crouched. The mare opened her eyes and looked up at him, then over at the gryphon where it lay on the trail, twitching.

“Lesson learned?” Stivers said.

“Shoot first, talk big when you’ve won,” she replied unsteadily. Midnight picked up her bow, then touched Stivers leg with a forehoof. “Thank you.”

The Marine winked. “C’mon, let’s go find the others.”

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Gruebel twisted and rolled again, forcing the gryphon in his clutches beneath him. He drew back a fist and swung, his knuckles ringing against the creature’s helmet. “Oww, shit!” He drew his hand back involuntarily, a bolt of pain shooting up his right arm from his hand. “Motherfu—”

The rest of his statement was driven out of him as the gryphon drove its hind legs up into his belly, kicking the wind out of him with a whoof! sound and sending him flying backward. It flipped over and stood upright, growling at his prone form as it rose. “Savage,” it hissed. “I’ll enjoy taking your head back to Three Peaks as a trophy.”

“Fella, you got shit for taste,” Gruebel wheezed. “I would have asked for a fifth of rye.”

Whatever the gryphon intended in reply was lost as a blur of scarlet fur shot out of the rain and slammed into the creature, the tangle of claws and hooves rolling along the ground. Shadow’s bulky form rose up, emitting a deep bellow as he slammed his forehooves down, but the gryphon managed to jerk sideways, the guardpony’s hooves striking the rocky path and sending up sparks. Snarling, the stallion’s head dipped down, his jaws closing on the feathered scruff of the gryphon’s neck. Backing up, he spun, jerking his head, and the creature went flying, squawking in anger as it flew over Gruebel’s head and crashed into the underbrush on the far side of the path.

“Holy Christ,” the Marine muttered. He rolled upright, glancing around, but his weapon was lost somewhere in the mud and water along the trail. A rustling noise to his left drew his attention and he saw the bedraggled gryphon rising up out of the bushes, shaking mud and water from its face. Gruebel backed away, looking around frantically, but there was nothing within reach.

“Alchak, I will eat your liver while you watch!” it hissed, and stood up. It took one step forward and then jerked, its head exploding into a mist of discolored material. A sharp report rang from the rocks around them, and both Gruebel and Shadow froze in place.

Taylor stood up from the underbrush where he had been crouching and brushed himself off, the .45 automatic still gripped in one hand. “Eat my nuts, shit for brains,” he stated. “God hates a smartass.”

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Golden Sword froze in place as the rolling echoes of the shot rang out around him. Looks like that little gift came in handy after all. He turned to Star and spoke loudly. “So much for stealth. Let’s move up, they’re not that far away from the sound of it. Be careful, though. If you see one of the humans, stop and call out. I’d rather not write any letters home to your family.”

“Yessir.” Star moved forward, relieved that at last they could get on with this. He’d heard Shadow’s shout earlier, and only his training and his loyalty to his commander had kept him from bolting forward to join his friend. “I’ll take the point, sir.”

Sword opened his mouth to reply, his words turning into a shout of alarm as a blur coalesced from the rain on the right. A brown feathered form slammed into Star, sending the pony rolling, his spear clattering to the ground. Another shape appeared, and then another, and Sword saw three of the armoured gryphons arrayed before him, their eyes burning with hatred. Star tried tried to rise, but one of the creatures slapped a claw down and pinned the pony to the ground by his head. The pegasus thrashed about, his wings flapping madly, the water streaming down the trail flowing up and over his muzzle.

“Tell yon lackey to stop struggling, afore I drown him in puddle, hee?” The gryphon in the center of the group leered at Sword and held out a jagged looking dagger, the point dropping down to rest on the unprotected joint between Star’s helmet and his body armour. “Tell him.”

“Star, hold fast.” Sword gritted his teeth. “Don’t move.”

“Thass a good lad,” the gryphon chuckled. The guard holding Star down lessened his grip, and the pony reared his head up, gasping and coughing for air. The rain sheeted down, spraying off the dull brass armor the gryphon wore over its chest and sides and running down in little rills to pool beneath it. “Now then. You’ve got something we want, aye? Hand it over and y’might walk away from all this.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Sword rasped. “If you’ve come for gold, you’ve picked the wrong group to rob. We haven’t enough to make it worth your while.”

“Tha’s no’ what dey’re after, Shinysides.” The familiar voice from behind him made Sword’s ears flatten back against his head. “Dey want de l'ile trinket ya picked up from de monast’ry. If’n yer smart, yu’ll give it up and go ‘ome, ey?”

Sword turned around slowly, his expression distorted into a snarl. “You little bucking bastard!

“Oh, don’t blame the poor lad so.” The gryphon that stepped forward was larger than all of the others, and bore a large set of silver wings emblazoned across the front of his armor. Beside him, the small form of William stumbled along, the youngster uttering a low curse as he tripped over a protruding rock. “After all, he’s only doing what he was told. And you performed brilliantly, boy.” It reached out with a foreclaw and patted William on the head.

William shied away from the gryphon’s touch and glared at Sword. “Give it up, Shinysides. Fer Edna’s sake, I’m sick o’ floppin around in de blüdy rain.”

“I could give a damn about what you’re sick of,” Sword said thickly. “You cowardly little traitor.

“Tsk, not so harsh. The boy’s a patriot.” A signal from a foreclaw sent the two unoccupied gryphons moving to stand on either side of Sword, with the third keeping Star occupied. “He did exactly what he was told, and what was expected of him.” The gryphon commander leered at Sword. “What, did you expect him to be loyal to you? A bunch of unwelcome vagabonds mucking about where they’ve no right to, and absconding with a national treasure in the bargain?”

“We stole nothing. The Pentachoron was given to us freely by the monks on the mountain.” Sword’s wings flared. “You have no right to—”

“I have every right,” the gryphon commander snarled, cutting him off. “You ponies think you own everything with your precious princesses in your far off land and think you can just waltz in here and make off with a magical artifact that is rightfully ours?” It spat, beak clacking with anger. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You’re in our land now, and our laws apply. So. Give it up, or I’ll cut all of your throats and send your heads back as a gift.” The commander drew a short, wicked looking blade. “No more talk. Surrender now or die.”

Sword lowered his head and stared at the ground for a moment, seeing the raindrops that rolled off the edge of his helmet drop down and travel the length of his muzzle before splashing down onto the ground. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath for a moment, then let it out slowly, nodding. “Very well.”

“Excellent.” The gryphon commanded took a step forward. “Now tell—”

Sword’s head jerked up, his helmet flying free and rolling along the ground. His soaked mane whipped and curled as the stallion spun on one rear hoof, pivoting and extending his forehoof with the motion as he whirled. His blade left his grip and flipped twice through the air before burying itself in the middle of the face of the gryphon holding Star down.

One.

Pushing off with his hind hoof, Sword leaped forward and tugged the weapon free, the edge catching on the gryphon guard’s helmet for a moment. Crouching down, he sprang to his right, swinging his weapon across his body and slicing into the guard there who had been staring, transfixed, as his comrade had gone down. Sword let the motion of his swing trail off, then stabbed his weapon down and into the vitals of the gryphon in one quick move before pulling back again. The guard fell away, screeching in a high-pitched tone and flailing helplessly, clutching at its torn flesh.

Two.

The guard on his left was rushing in, and Sword gripped his weapon in both forehooves and flicked the blade up and back. Steel rang on steel as his enemy’s strike was blocked, and the stallion swung down low, a sweeping strike across his opponent’s body, high to low, right to left. The guard dropped its weapon and fell back, one eye a ruin, clutching at itself with its foreclaws and babbling incoherently.

Three.

Golden Sword reached down with his left forehoof and picked up the guard’s fallen weapon. Rocking back on his haunches, he flared his wings for balance as he glared at the open-mouthed gryphon commander, the enemy sword clutched in his left forehoof and his own weapon in his right.

“No!” The gryphon’s wings spread wide and it pushed off, flapping madly as it backed away from the Equestrian Guard commander. “You can’t—”

The stallion launched himself into the air, arrowing directly towards the retreating gryphon. It swung blindly at him, and he slapped the stroke aside with one weapon, then used the other to clip the gryphon’s foreclaw off at the wrist, sending it and the blade it clutched spinning uselessly down out of sight. Drawing his forelegs inward, Sword slammed into the gryphon and swung.

The blades gripped in the stallion’s forehooves met at the gryphon commander’s neck, paused briefly, then kept going, sending the severed head flying backward.

“FOUR!” Sword screamed. The pony paused in mid-air, hovering, and watched the remains of his foe plummet to the ground below. There was an ungodly screech, and the stallion’s head snapped down and to the right, his gaze zeroing in on the form of William, who was flailing backwards away from the body that had nearly landed on top of him.

“Oh no you don’t, Sword snarled. His wings folded and the pegasus dropped like a stone, darting straight in toward the youngster below.

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“Thanks, Ell-Tee, that was close,” Gruebel breathed. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Taylor said. He lifted his left hand and pushed his soaked hair off of his brow, peering about nervously. “You seen any of the others?”

“Just us so far, sir,” Gruebel glanced off to his right. “I heard some yelling from up front, I think Star and Captain Sword are up there. Haven’t seen the others.”

“You’re not supposed to,” a voice said from behind them. The two men whirled to see Gallivan, Hoof and Thompson slowly advancing toward them. “That’s why they call it concealment,” the sergeant said pointedly. More movement from behind him revealed Stivers and Midnight bringing up the rear of the group, the mare with her bow loaded and ready, and Stivers with his service pistol drawn.

“Holy Christ,” Gruebel sighed. “You guys are a sight for sore eyes, I’m telling you.”

Gallivan glanced over at where Shadow stood, the pony shivering in the cold rain as he eyed the woodline where their attackers had emerged from. “How you doin, Shadow?”

“Caught a scratch. I’m okay, Sarge,” Shadow took a step forward and grimaced. “Hind leg hurts.”

“Stick with it for a bit if you can,” Gallivan said. He turned and looked at Stivers. “Orders, sir?”

“Well, since the enemy wasn’t kind enough to give us a roll call and muster before the ambush, we assume there are still some out there.” Stivers looked around slowly. “We need to find the others before we end up in a friendly fire situation.” Pausing, he regarded the lieutenant for a moment. “You okay to handle the piece, Charlie?”

Taylor looked at the pistol in his hand, then nodded. “I’m on real good terms with it right now.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” The Marine looked pointedly down at the ruined remains of the gryphon on the ground. The rain had finally begun to slack off a bit, but the creature had voided a tremendous amount of blood; the trail was soaked in crimson and little rivulets ran slowly downhill as he watched. “Okay, I think—”

There was an unearthly howling sound from further down the trail, and Star’s voice carried up to them clearly. “Captain!”

“Well, fuck plan A, B and C,” Stivers groaned. “Okay, let’s go, people. Keep an eye out, but move fast. That’s trouble or I’m a monkey’s uncle.”

They began moving forward, Taylor and Stivers taking the lead with guns drawn and leveled before them. The others gathered round on either side, and Shadow moved to follow in tail position behind them.

Shadow stopped, gritting his teeth for a moment, his head down. The pain in his right rear leg had become intense and the limb itself was beginning to stiffen up and grow numb, the wound going from hot to cold alternately. Throwing his head back, the pony took a deep breath and began limping after the others, ignoring the steady stream of blood that coursed down his leg to mingle in the dirt with that of the dead gryphon behind him.

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The motion in his peripheral vision sent Shining Star whirling around, his spear poised. The rain had slowed enough for him to see several meters down the path, and the sight that met his eyes almost sent him swooning with relief. “Sir, they’re here!”

“Who?” Golden Sword sat up from where he was crouched in a tangle of vines and leaves and looked over his shoulder to see the rest of his companions. “Report!”

“All present and completely soaked, sir,” Taylor said, saluting half-heartedly. “Shadow got a nick but he says he’s fine.”

“Oh, that’s just great.” Star shook his head and began walking over to where Shadow stood, the hulking form of the large guardpony swaying unsteadily back and forth. “See? This is why smart ponies have weapons so bad guys can’t get near you, you lunk!”

“No further enemy contact, Captain.” Midnight trotted forward, lowering her bow. “If there are any others, I think they’ve made off. What lot that attacked us is down for good up there.” She jerked her head, indicating the trail behind them. “No survivors.”

“Oh, there are survivors,” Sword growled. “Take a look at this little present our friends left behind.” He dipped his head, his jaws working, and another horrible squalling sound emerged. The stallion pulled and lifted, stepping back, and flipped his head sideways, sending William’s bedraggled form spinning through the air to land on the muddy trail with a wet slapping sound.

Almost as one, the others stared, their jaws dropping in astonishment. “William?” Midnight’s eyes were wide and round. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“The little bastard’s been doing a bit of cloak and dagger,” Sword said, stepping out of the brush. “Apparently we’ve been followed ever since we left Clawttowa. And this piece of dung has been feeding them information about our mission.”

Gruebel’s expression twisted abruptly as he stared at the young gryhon’s form. “You little piece of shit,” he hissed. “All this time?”

William finally raised his head, his feathers streaked with rain and mud, looking up at the Marine with a mixed expression. “I—”

There was a clattering sound as something dropped behind them. “MEDIC!”

Star’s scream cut through the group like a knife and they all turned to see the pony standing next to Shadow. The larger pegasus was leaning drunkenly to one side, and Star was desperately trying to support his friend’s weight. “Help! He’s hurt bad!” He grunted, heaving, and barely managed to catch Shadow’s form as he slumped to the ground, one hoof flailing against Star’s spear and sending it rolling away.

Stivers lunged forward, slapping his sidearm back into its holster and unslinging his pack. He dropped to his knees beside Star, ignoring the scrape and tear of rock against his legs. “Where’s he hit?”

“Right hind leg. He’s bleeding bad….oh Celestia’s sake, he’s soaked,” Star moaned. Shadow lay on his right side, and his leg, pinned underneath him, was gleaming a bright crimson from thigh to hock. “Shadow, why didn’t you say something??”

“Too busy… busting heads,” Shadow said weakly, then laughed. “Oh boy, that was fun, Star. Should have… been there.”

“Shut up, Shadow.” Stivers lifted the pony’s head out of the mud and slid his own knee forward, laying Shadow’s muzzle onto his own leg. “Charlie, Gruebel, get on the other side and help me. Lift his left hind leg up. Slow. I can’t see shit.”

“Gotcha, skipper.” Taylor moved to brace the pony’s back and keep him from sliding while Gruebel reached out and lifted Shadow’s leg away gently. The pegasus rolled slightly in place, exposing the long wound on his inner right thigh. A bright crimson jet of blood shot up and splashed Star on the muzzle, and the pony scrabbled at his mouth frantically with his forehooves, backing away slowly and uttering a thick sound.

“Don’t you fucking move,” Stivers shouted. He yanked a large swatch of cotton bandage from the pack and slapped it in place on Shadow’s thigh. “Put your hooves there and press hard.

Star swallowed and nodded, blood and rain dripping off of the end of his muzzle. He moved back up and placed his hooves against the bandage, watching as red flowers bloomed on its white surface. “Oh wow….”

“I said press HARD, dammit!” Stivers reached up with his right hand and shoved down on the armor covering Star’s shoulders, pressing until the pony’s full weight was bearing down on Shadow’s leg. With his left hand, the Marine dug into the pouch by his side, pulling out a paper packet. Lifting it, he tore one edge with his teeth and spat the paper away. “When I tell you, lift up. When I tell you again, press down again hard, just like you’re doing, okay?”

“Yessir.”

“Okay… go!” Star pulled back, and Stivers lifted the edge of the bandage and shook the contents of the packet onto the long cut in Shadow’s leg. Blood spurted up weakly again, and Stivers cursed, slapping the bandage down once more. “Pressure!”

Golden Sword moved up behind him, peering over the Marine’s shoulder. “How bad is it?”

“I don’t know, I’m not a fucking vet,” Stivers snapped. He glanced around, grimacing. “Sorry. I really don’t know, though, but it looks rough.” He glanced down at Shadow’s face, frowning. “Where do you guys take a pulse?”

“Upper neck, just under the jawline,” Sword said immediately. “Or inside thigh, but that’s not an option right now.”

“I think that’s the problem.” Stivers placed two fingers just below Shadow’s jaw and sat still for a moment. “Christ, I don’t know. I can barely feel anything.”

Sword peered at the bandage for a moment, his own jaw tensing as he saw the white fabric rapidly soaking with red. The leg below it was swathed in a sheet of bright crimson liquid, startling against the darker maroon fur around it. The blood had pooled beneath him and trickled slowly through the mud, and Sword’s expression darkened as he looked up and saw a similar trail leading back up the path out of sight. “Oh…”

“Sir, what are we gonna do? Can you help him?” Star looked up at his commander, his eyes pleading.

“I…” Sword glanced at Stivers. “I’m a field medic, barely, and I have a first aid kid, Sword. The kid needs a hospital and a doctor and a fucking transfusion.” The Marine’s jaw tensed and relaxed. “Right now.”

“I… I’m okay, Captain.” Shadow’s voice was low, barely audible. He shifted slightly, opening his eyes and peering up at the two officers hovering over him. “Just… gimme a few minutes to rest… I’ll be fine.” He coughed, shivering, and relaxed again. “Can carry my own pack.”

“That’ll do, then,” Sword replied quietly. “Just… just a bit further up the trail and then we’ll make camp, eh? Then you can get a proper rest.”

“C’n take third watch,” Shadow mumbled. His eyes closed and his head sank down, muzzle pressed into the fabric of Stivers trousers. “Jus’ need a breather.”

Stivers pressed his fingers against the line of the pony’s jaw again. The pulse underneath the fur was thready and weak, barely detectable against his fingertips. “Sword…”

Golden Sword crouched, his fur squelching in the mud as he lay down next to Shadow and placed his muzzle against the other pony’s ear. “Mind your hooves,” he said quietly. “Hear their sound… when steel has turned to rust.”

Shadow’s muzzle twitched, and the pegasus drew in a slow breath. “Pound… thy foe,” he whispered. “Leave him… down…” He shuddered, drew in a half breath, and then lay still.

“And bloody in the dust,” Sword intoned. He sat for a moment, half-hearing the rain drumming against his armour, and stared past Shadow’s prone form at the far side of the path. The rain was slowly but steadily lessening, and the light from above trickled down, casting wavering reflections along the buckled and scratched armour of the pony before him. Glancing up, he looked around at the others for a moment, his sight passing over them one by one without stopping, not really seeing them. Finally, his gaze settled on Star, who still stood crouched at his friend’s side, his head down, forehooves pressing grimly against the soaked bandage. “Star?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You can let go now, lad.” Sword passed a forehoof gently over Shadow’s cheek, smoothing the fur and closing the pony’s eye with a light touch. “He’s gone.”

Shining Star shook his muzzle and blinked away the rain, staring up at his commander. “Sir?”

“He’s gone, Star. You can get up.”

Star looked uncomprehendingly at the pony before him for a moment, then back down to where his forehooves were half obscured by the bloody, wadded up gauze. “But… I pushed down as hard as I could,” he said, his voice hitching.

“What did I do wrong?”

Author's Notes:

Right. I'm leaving for BMQ-L on sunday, so there won't be another update for a month, minimum. Also, the more hate this chapter garners the better. I feed off of it. Wish me luck, hope I don't explode myself with grenades and rockets, etc. Next chapter is gonna be filled with so many [REDACTED].

Anyway, comments are always appreciated, so please, say what you like, what you didn't like, what you think you would improve upon, and just how much you enjoy the story (Reviews are always welcome as well).

Also, be honest here, how many of you cried at the end? I know I did.


From Dave:
Sorry I took so long getting this chapter out, folks. Going to try to be more productive from here on out! -D.M.

Next Chapter: Chapter 20: Dawn Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 47 Minutes
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