Well, this was embarrassing.

In a somewhat anticlimactic engagement, only just after emerging from the underground, Andrew and the Mane Six had been captured. No stunning this time, much to their relief, but they were deprived of their weapons and dragged away.

They were brought back to Canterlot Castle, surrounded by almost two dozen guards who looked as though they expected the unarmed prisoners to attack at any minute.

It seemed the bugs were making themselves at home. Equipment was being moved in, command equipment, supplies, ammunition, crew-served weapon systems, etc.
Moving through the castle, they saw captured people trapped in restraints that looked like green snot. Some were stuck where they had fallen during the initial attack, pinned to walls, or stuck to floors. More were being brought in from elsewhere in the city; they saw parties of terrified civilians, and a surprisingly small number of Marines and Equestrian infantrymen herded into rooms hastily converted to holding pens.

The answer to where the rest of the POWs had gone lay deeper in the castle. There were several corridors without any natural lighting, the gloomiest parts of the castle. The few remaining light bulbs not destroyed by weapons fire were able to light up a disturbing sight.
Clinging to the ceiling, the walls, and making the corridors cramped were several dozen disgusting green cocoons, made out of even more of the snot-like substance. They looked vaguely like the eggs out of Alien, but bigger and perhaps slightly more disturbing because of their other resemblance to the Collector capsules from Mass Effect.
The contents of the pods weren’t facehuggers. They were people. Ponies, marines, pilots, and civilians. Those inside appeared to be unconscious for the most part, but there were some who were struggling weakly. The cocoons provided an all-you-can-eat buffet of emotions for the bugs.
The group averted their eyes, hoping that they might be able to find their way out of this and free these people.

They were brought into the throne room, where the Air Marshal of the 4th Assault Swarm awaited.
Hanging from the ceiling were a pair of the cocoons, containing Queen Luna and Celestia.
Standing up the stairs near the throne was Shining Armor, still looking high as a kite. Beside him was Cadence, stuck to the ground by the snot substance, but far more conscious, and screaming abuse at the queen.

Chrysalis was ignoring her, and looking out the stain glass windows with a malicious smile on her face. A claw idly stroked a Metal Storm sidearm strapped to her side by what must have been a magnetic strip.

She heard them approach, “Oh, you're here! Hadn’t you heard? The reception’s been cancelled!”

No one had the energy to come up with any sort of snarky comeback, and settled for trying to see if the death glares of seven individuals could concentrate to create a lethal concentrated beam of hate.

Chrysalis’ smile grew even larger, “Ah, nothing to say? No quaint little cries of defiance, no hopeless attempt at even verbal abuse? Your people seem to be learning.”

She smirked, glancing out the window at the city, “Well, not that well anyway. Did you really think I wouldn’t hear about your…” the bug queen started cackling, “Your ridiculous plan?! And I thought the girl was the smart one.”

“Hey!” Andrew barked.

“Oh, be silent. She still is smarter between the two of you. Though that’s not a very high bar. I heard about that ludicrous plan of hers.”

Chrysalis laughed again, “By the emperor, did you really believe her? No, I forgot who I was talking to. Of course you believed her!”

She trotted past Andrew, over to the ponies, “She lied to you. They all lied to you!”

Rainbow Dash scowled, “We’ve been through this before, you stupid bug! Don’t try it! It won’t work!”

“Oh, what won’t? My shattering of your dubious faith in humanity’s ability to protect you?”

She swept an arm toward the windows, “Look around you! They sent a single battalion of soldiers to hold off my swarm! Obviously, they either don’t care about you, or they’re incredibly stupid! The reality is that they are both!”

“Smart enough to give you a bloody nose!” Andrew said, the words feeling defiant but his voice cracking when he spoke.

Chrysalis’ face twitched, then she laughed again, “Now, little ones, let me explain why your friend is so wrong. There are these things called ‘direct-energy weapons’. They are weapons that don’t go boom, but instead shoot invisible beams of light. The ship you have in your archives carried two of them. Now, your idiot friend, I hesitate to call her an ‘engineer’, seriously believed that these pitiful energy weapons could reach into the sky through the atmosphere, and into that thing called space. Those primitive solid-state lasers couldn’t get across a few dozen kilometers. She was an idiot, a blasted imbecile! She called herself intelligent? A simple Google search would have proved her wrong!”

Andrew continued scowling, his anger rising briefly at two targets. He’d been right.

Applejack, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie looked at his face, then each other, confused.

“But…” Rarity muttered, “What?”

Rainbow Dash was making many rude gestures, while Twilight remained defiant.

Chrysalis smirked, then pointed at Twilight “you! Uh…” Chrysalis started snapping her claws, as if she were trying to jog her memory, “You...you, Twinkie, Twiggy...Twinkle, right? What’s with that face? This should be a day of celebration!”

“Celebration?!” Twilight demanded, “Celebration?!”

“Yes, filly! We've come to educate your planet! These humans are misleading you!”

Twilight rolled her eyes, and snarled, “you think you've won?! You really think we were so stupid about the lasers? Any minute now, your whole plan--”

Chrysalis sighed, “Twinkle, the girl failed. I told you she was an idiot. She's…”

Chrysalis looked expectantly at the massive doors of the throne room, “...I think she's coming in now.”

The doors opened, and four Changeling soldiers hovered in, followed by a fifth without a weapon who looked very concerned. His uniform was unusual, a stripped down version without the pockets and equipment of the others. On his helmet was hastily painted a red plus sign...or was it supposed to be a cross?

The ponies let out exclamations of shock and dismay, then outrage.

“What did you do?!” Rainbow Dash roared.

Fluttershy squeaked in horror, “oh my word…”

Twilight put a hoof in front of Andrew to stop him, but he didn't move. He just stared at the sight of what the bugs were carrying.

Two of them were carrying Melissa by her legs and shoulders, moving carefully and trying to keep her head level. Two more had their rifles turned on her, not that they would need them.

The marine was missing her helmet, her rifle, and most of her other equipment. Her right forearm was missing its sleeve, and was covered in bandages, the same as her right leg. That same leg was splinted, with duct tape rolled around it. Bloodstains covered her uniform, and her face was scratched and torn. Her eyes were closed, and her head hung limply.

“Such an idiot,” Chrysalis sighed, “We found her and her squad fairly easily. Our spies knew they were coming. They did manage to make it to the ship, and put up a good fight, but as you can see, it wasn’t quite good enough.”

She inhaled happily, “Ah, all that national pride of theirs. Delicious. We’ve been capturing as many marines as we can, volunteer armies always make useful sources of food. Especially those of democracies.”

The fifth Changeling had the bearers set her down, and checked her pulse.

“Air Marshal--” he began, then coughed, “your highness, she's badly injured. We should take her to the combat support hospital--”

“I don't recall asking for your opinion, lokhagos,” Chrysalis snarled, using what the ponies presumed to be a rank, “is she going to die anytime soon?”

“Well-- your highness, that's not the point.”

“Is she?” Chrysalis repeated.

“No, your highness, but we've only managed to stabilize her. She needs fluids, and she needs surgery as soon as--”

“You will revive her to the point that I can interrogate her, lokhagos.” Chrysalis hissed.

“But--but--ma’am!” the medic(?) squeaked, “She--this is a--”

He started to shake under her gaze, “M-Ma’am...I--I--”

“Revive her. Now.”

He backed up a few feet, looking between his patient and his commander.

“Y-yes your highness.”

The Changeling crouched near Melissa, and pulled a gun-like device out of a pocket. Putting it against her neck, he squeezed the trigger.

The jet-injector hissed, and he stood up.

“This should keep her lucid enough to answer questions, though not for long. Especially not if she gains additional injuries.” the medic said.

“Yes, I see. You’re dismissed, captain.”

The medic looked alarmed, “Y-yes ma’am.”

Looking at the rest of the guards, Chrysalis said, “You’re all dismissed. Go and feed, you’ve earned it.”

The infantrybugs glanced at each other. They looked nervously at the ponies and the humans.

“Yes, my queen.” one said, bowing and walking out.

The others followed.

The queen watched them close the doors, then nodded with satisfaction. “Excellent. Now…”

She pulled out her pistol, and poked Melissa with her foot, “Hey, wake up!”

There was no response.

The ponies looked at each other. Andrew’s hands balled into fists.

Twilight was getting nervous, a sweat bead traveling down her neck.

“Leave her alone!” Rarity barked, “Can’t you see--”

Chrysalis rolled her eyes, “Oh, she’s fine. I’ve seen humans survive worse.”

She prodded Melissa harder, “Wake up!”

Using another foot, she poked Melissa in the stomach, “Wake up you stupid primate!”

Finally, Melissa stirred. She didn’t seem aware or anything, but she moved.

The ponies breathed a sigh of relief. Fluttershy tried to move forward but was stopped by Chrysalis’ gun.

“Ah, well,” the queen muttered, “I can wait.”

She turned toward the rest of the prisoners, “I have plenty of time.”

“You can’t just leave her like that!” Applejack cried, “She’s hurt, and she needs help!”

“She’ll be fine!” Chrysalis barked. She trotted toward Andrew, “You. Andrew. I need information.”

Andrew backed up as she approached him, the group moving off to either side, “About what?”

“Everything. I need to know everything about the Terran Alliance. Defenses, base locations, secret projects, everything!”

“Okay, you’ve been calling me an idiot this whole time, what makes you think--?”

Chrysalis charged her horn in the same way a unicorn would, and telekinetically threw Andrew across the room. He slammed into a wall, stunned.

“Andrew!” Twilight and Fluttershy cried out.

Chrysalis flipped her pistol around, ready to use it as a bludgeon, “You will tell me what you know!”

Andrew struggled to his knees, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! You want defense data...from me?”

Chrysalis gestured to the walls and the Mane Six, “The marines and the ponies are too primitive,” she pointed at Melissa, “and the only other POW is currently incapacitated, so that leaves you.”

Andrew stared at her, looking back to Twilight, to Fluttershy, then back to the air marshal, “...You’re kidding, right?”

Chrysalis approached him, in an oddly seductive manner, “What’s the big deal? I just want to know--”

Andrew shook his head and scurried backward on his hands back up against the wall, “No--what--what--what is your obsession with me, lady?!”

Chrysalis halted, furrowed her brow at him, “What?”

“What do you want from me? I’ve got a liberal arts degree! What could I possibly know about anything involving the military? Jesus H Christ, the only person who would know this stuff is drooling on the floor!”

There was a coughing sound, and Melissa’s eyes cracked open, “Whuh…?”

“Y’see?!” Andrew pointed, “She has all the secret plans, she never bothered to tell me anything!”

Chrysalis scoffed, “You really expect me to believe you don’t know anything about--?”

“Yes!” he snapped, “What is wrong with you? Why don’t you interrogate her? Try and sleep with her instead! Just stop trying to seduce me you giant bug!”

His eyes widened, and he suddenly laughed, almost hysterically, “Oh, I see! You--you have a crush on me don’t you? What, are you jealous of Fluttershy and Twilight?”

The room was silent. Chrysalis tilted her head at him, utterly befuddled.

“Pfff…” Melissa spat, lifting her head and rolling onto her left arm, “Ha!”

The ponies tried to suppress some laughter as well. Chrysalis’ fury grew.

Andrew laughed a little more, “Oh my god, Tsundere bug from outer space after me! ‘It’s not like I like you or anything, b-baka!’”

He yelped when a bullet zipped past his ear.

“Shut up, or I’m killing you first!”

Andrew laughed again, more nervously, and somehow choked out, “Heh heh, ‘tsun tsun’!”

“Chrissy’s in lo-o-ove!” Melissa grunted.

“You stupid apes!” Chrysalis snapped, throwing Andrew against the wall again. Melissa kept laughing, and the Changeling stalked back to her. She raised a hoof, and stomped down hard on Melissa’s wounded leg.

Melissa screamed, holding the limb, but then looked horrified, “What the hell did you do to me? I--I barely felt that!”

“Oh please, surely you know about interrogative anesthesias!”

The queen’s confident facade faded, replaced with one of utter rage and contempt. She pointed at Andrew, “I’m an infiltrator! It’s my job to do these things, you cretin! I only hit on you because she's a heterosexual! I find the very idea that I would be genuinely interested in creatures like you offensive! Mighty emperors above, your people are disgusting!”

She gestured to Fluttershy and Twilight, “You, Andrew, sleeping with those ones, don’t both your people have some sort of bestality restriction or something?”

Chrysalis rubbed her face, “I can see why we had to civilize your world.”

She glanced at the ponies, “Have you heard about this invention they have, the internet? It was a computer system developed to store information and communicate in the aftermath of a nuclear war, and they used it for their revolting pornography!”

“Are you saying that because it survived your attempts to destroy it?” Melissa garbled, “It’s one of our most decentralized inventions, usually survives in every alien--”

Chrysalis kicked her in the gut, and Melissa whoofed, “Will you be silent, you endoskeleton?!”

“Hey, I thought you wanted information!” Andrew barked, “You interrogate me instead of her, and when she starts talking you want her to shut up?! I don’t know anything--”

“That’s right!” Chrysalis shrieked, kicking Melissa again, “You stupid fucking apes know absolutely nothing!”

She kicked Melissa a third time, “You damn, dirty, filthy, rotten, endoskeleton primates!”

“Stop that!” Cadence cried from near the throne, struggling to get free, “Why don’t you leave them alone?!”

“What did any of them ever do to you?!” Twilight demanded.

Chrysalis rolled her eyes, “You ponies don’t know what humans are like. You don’t know what they’ve done.”

She glared at Andrew, “You apes are too stupid to know when to quit. Why do you always resist us, why don’t you give up?! We were trying to bring the light of civilization to you! And you repaid us with terror and death! We brought you superior technology, we could’ve fixed your global temperature problem! You would have been happy, why couldn't you accept us?!”

Walking back to the windows, she continued, “Ponies, your friends here are monsters. They are responsible for genocides, forced marches, death camps, and mass destruction. Their world was in complete chaos when we found them. Refugee crises, terrible leaders grinding them into the dirt, an entire land mass in complete chaos for a hundred years, chemical weapons used on civilians, the larger nations refusing to help, driving species into extinction, torture, racism, xenophobia--”

“How much of that did you cause?!” Andrew snapped, struggling to get back on his feet and holding his bruised shoulder.

Chrysalis whipped around and tried to speak, but he shouted over her, “I heard from one of your bugs! You infiltrated our governments to try and make us ‘settle down’! You could’ve caused a nuclear war, he said!”

Chrysalis’ face twitched, “Well-- you never would have accepted our help anyway. You, so unwilling to do what needed to be done. You allowed your people the ability to say whatever they wanted, even against the state! It's an obscenity! So foolish, so insane, so stupid. Yes, we infiltrated your governments, and influenced them, but we had to. We tried to help subtly, but you forced our hand. Sometimes making a new world means tearing down the old one. We had to weaken or destroy your old governments to make rebuilding your world easier.”

“What, so are you responsible for Trump?!” Melissa demanded.

Chrysalis laughed, “No, that would have been too obvious. We used your own people to weaken you. The dictators, the monsters, the fools? Those were all as human as your are. We simply helped a few on their way. The underlings, your celebrities, the elites, the politicians, the news media...”

She smirked, “It was surprisingly simple to manipulate them. We only replaced a handful. You had to be corrected, to be set on the right path. We did this at great personal expense, just to try to help you!”

“To feed your empire.” Andrew muttered, “To feed your empire you tried to destroy us.”

Chrysalis’ face went red again. She stalked forward and pistol-whipped him.

Andrew spat out blood, and tried to see if he’d broken teeth or a cheekbone.

Chrysalis growled, “It was for your own good! You could’ve been happy! No more war on your world, no more strife! It would be peaceful! It seemed so easy, they thought most of your people to be mindless barbarians!”

She walked back and kicked Melissa again, “But no! You just had to fight back! You couldn’t accept the natural order of things being restored! You were devoted to all those little traitorous words, that petty drivel written by men dead centuries ago! Made before you even made electricity, how could any of them have any meaning anymore?! You forced us, you made us do it! We could no longer do it subtly, we had to take direct action!”

“What does that mean?” Pinkie Pie asked.

“It means invasion!” Melissa choked out, holding her chest, “They turned us against each other to try and ruin our defenses! We fought them--oof!”

Chrysalis put her foot back down, “Yes, we had to deploy forces to intervene, but it was all about the greater good.”

“‘The greater good’.” Melissa and Andrew echoed.

“Shut it!” Chrysalis snapped, “My commanders thought it best to try and intimidate you, to make you realize there was no hope. They believed they just had to beat your military forces to make you surrender. We pitted your people against each other to weaken their forces. Your standing armies and munitions were depleted, and they thought that would be enough, that our simple appearance and a lightning attack would be enough! But they were wrong! Clearly! They thought they understood you, they thought they knew how to beat you, but they didn’t understand your stubbornness. No one understood your stubbornness! The only thing you monsters understand is force!”

She scoffed, “We could have battered you into submission, we would have ground your cities into the dirt to force a surrender, but high command wouldn’t allow us.”

With fury, she continued, “Your governments fell apart as they found out our agents, as others vanished, and yet you hung on! Half your chains of command vanished, and yet you continued with organized resistance! Somehow, your people had found out about us before our strikes! They had formed plans, they made weapons, they had contingencies! Your people united --somehow!-- and fought back! How could any race unite like that after so much betrayal?! How could you be so stubborn?! We destroyed your armies, we destroyed your bases, we fought, and fought, and you wouldn’t stop!”

The alien sighed heavily, “And then. And then, ho ho,” she laughed ironically, “You built those warships. You burned your own territory with hundreds of nuclear devices! Just for a chance to wipe out our fleet!”

She pointed her gun at Melissa, “And in your blind, stupid insanity, you killed thousands of my people! You killed, and killed, and killed, and killed! My crew and I barely escaped, and came here. We already had an infiltration program working here and I took control. I had to stop the humans here! I had to save the ponies!”

She stomped on Melissa’s wounded forearm, and the marine screamed louder.

Clutching the injury, she glared up at the alien.

“Do you need any more evidence that they’re monsters?” Chrysalis demanded of the ponies, pointing at Melissa, then to Andrew, “Those poisonous warships of theirs flew into orbit, and started attacking our ships! They destroyed dozens of vessels, with thousands of drones aboard! They’re fucking war criminals! A vicious cowardly act, they didn’t have the good sense to stay down!”

Melissa tried to sit up, but Chrysalis put a hoof on her chest, “Those pilots on the Sophia. They were among these war criminals. I gave them a fate befitting war criminals.”

Melissa rolled around to exchange a look with Andrew, “You...you killed them?”

“They were war criminals!” Chrysalis hissed, putting her gun to Melissa’s head, “They had to pay! They had to pay! Pay for everything! Pay for all your people did to us without cause! For everyone I lost! For every one of my soldiers you killed, for every one of my friends you murdered!”

“Without cause?” Rainbow Dash cried, “You attacked them just cuz you could, you bomb the hay out of them, and when they hit back you start crying! ‘Waah, big bad humans hurt us, waah’!”

Chrysalis roared and pointed her gun at Dash.

Just as she squeezed the trigger Melissa grabbed the queen’s leg, opened her mouth wide, and bit down. The bullet went wild, hitting the ceiling.

The queen yelled, kicking the marine off and stepping back.

“You see?” she demanded, looking at the ponies, “They’re savages! Monsters! They only understand violence--”

Twilight yelled, “We don’t care! She did that because you hurt her!”

Chrysalis scowled, “I hurt her?! Her military killed--”

“Because you were invading us!” Andrew yelled, “Can you blame us?!”

Chrysalis roared and ran forward, ramming a hoof into his gut. He doubled over onto his knees, and tried to hold in the contents of his stomach.

“Yes! I can blame you! Our arrangement was perfect! You didn’t even know we were there until you started resisting! You would’ve remained blissfully unaware of our existence! The right politicians were in office, they were setting everything to the natural order! If you’d just accepted it, had just accepted happiness, no one would have to die! If you hadn’t forced us, if you hadn’t fought our agents and those logical enough to follow us, you could have been happy! No more war, no more pain, no more poverty, just happiness! Why, why, why couldn’t you have just let us help?!”

“'It is better to live as your own man than as a fool in someone else's dream.’” Melissa croaked, “‘No dictator, no invader can hold an imprisoned population by force of arms forever. There is no greater power in the universe than the need for freedom. Against that power tyrants and dictators cannot stand. Though it takes a thousand years, we will be free.’”

“Melissa, don’t!” Twilight warned.

Melissa pulled herself up, rising to a sitting up position, “Do you hear the people sing, singing the song of angry men? It is the music of the people who will not be slaves again!”

Chrysalis seemed quite angered by the song, “Cease that hideous sound this instant!”

Melissa laughed, coughing, and switched up her song, “Oh, we’ll rally round the flag boys, we’ll rally once again, shouting the battle cry of freedom, and we’ll rally from the hillside, we’ll gather from the plain, shouting the battle cry of freedom!”

Chrysalis kicked the marine in the ribs, making her scream and knocking the wind out of her.

Spitting out blood, Melissa wheezed, “The union forever...hurrah boys, hurrah! Down with the...the Changeling, and up with the star--”

She was kicked again, “W-while we rally round the flag...boys...rally once…”

A gunshot went off.

“Next one is going in your head if you don't shut the hell up!” Chrysalis shouted.

Rarity spoke up insistently, “You can’t kill her! She knows too much for you to risk it! Isn’t she smarter than--apologies, dear-- isn’t she supposedly smarter than Andrew?”

Chrysalis glared at the white unicorn, “You’re right. I can’t.”

She aimed her pistol at Melissa’s uninjured leg, “But she doesn’t need her legs to talk.”

Andrew heard her claw on the trigger, and coughed, “You say violence is the only thing we understand?! Look at yourself! Don’t try and say you’re saving us you son of a bitch! You think you’re above us?! You think we don’t understand you? Oh, we understand! We know what you are! We know you bastards! You’re us!We are you!”

Chrysalis’ face filled up with intense anger, and she turned her gun on him once again. She flung him back against the wall. He cried out, feeling something sticky trickling down the side of his face, but his pain turned to anger.

The ponies, in particular, Fluttershy, stared at Andrew with surprise. There was a rage they hadn’t seen in him before as he struggled to his feet.

“You’re no better than we were a hundred years ago, than we were five hundred years ago!”

“Don’t you dare compare us to your sniveling, pathetic race!” Chrysalis shrieked, “We are the greatest empire to ever grace this galaxy! It is our right to rule and to civilize the savage races! You should be thanking us on your knees!”

Andrew laughed, “That’s just what my ancestors used to say. Colonialism we called it. Ever heard of The White Man’s Burden? Manifest Destiny? ‘The empire on which the sun never sets’?”

Melissa rolled over, holding her stomach, and gasped out, “ever hear of the Battle of Little Bighorn, you creepy black goo imperialist? US troops intent on using women and children as shields, get slaughtered, then the Native Americans are depicted as the bad guys for a hundred years! For defending themselves against an immoral act committed by a legitimate military target that had been slaughtering them for 200 years! Oh no, the white people, with their Gatling guns and smallpox are totally the injured party!”

Andrew waved dismissively, “Oh, but Melissa! You forgot! This is the great 'Mutan Empire’! That’s human stuff you're talking about!”

“Oh, my mistake!”

Andrew glared at Chrysalis, “Tell me--no, tell my friends here, what and why you’ve come here to do to their planet. And how it's different from anything we've done!”

Chrysalis glowered, but her confident facade seemed to fade back in.

“Ignore what these ones say,” she said, looking at the ponies, “We’re here for your benefit! They’ve led you astray, they--”

“You impersonated one of our leaders, attacked our city, hurt our friends and a lot of other ponies, and you say they’re the bad guys?” Applejack demanded.

“We’re not ignorant of what they’re capable of,” Rarity cried, “We’ve seen it even before today!”

“Everypony has skeletons in their closet,” said Pinkie, “it would be creepy if they didn't!”

“They...they didn't even try to hide it!” Fluttershy burst out, “Andrew told us about their terrible weapons, their horrid acts…”

“Andrew and Melissa had a fight about giving us tech,” Rainbow Dash added, “they were afraid of hurting us!”

“All these two have ever done has been to help us,” Applejack said “They shared with us their art, their inventions, their music and culture! They have music with instruments I ain’t never even dreamed of!”

“They showed us awesome stories and movies and stuff!” Rainbow said.

““Glimmering cities of steel and glass!” Rarity spoke up, “Instant communications, knowledge at everypony’s--everyone’s hoof--fingertips!”

“Medicines! Lots of...medicines…” Fluttershy squeaked.

“Space travel, flying machines, all sorts of fun things!” Pinkie Pie said.

“What have you shown us?” Rarity demanded.

“We see your land ironclads destroying our city, we see you gassing our soldiers, we see you bombing us!” Applejack gestured to the windows. Outside could be seen the smoke clouds billowing across the city, the chunks taken out of buildings. A Changeling gunship roared over a street in the distance, its nose gun tearing up targets below.

“Who do we see laying down their lives to help us?” Rarity asked.

“We see humans!” Pinkie Pie called out.

“Enough!” Chrysalis shrieked, “I knew you wouldn't understand! They're monsters, savages, what they don't understand they fear! What they don't understand, they destroy!”

Melissa barked, “Mongols! Native Americans! Zulus! The Vikings! Gauls! Scots!”

“Shut up!”

Andrew roared, “So we killed thousands of your troops, what did you expect?! You invaded us! Our people fought so hard to break the bonds of imperialism, to try and heal our planet and people, and we were doing fine! Not great, but we could do it without your ‘help’! You had no interest in helping us, you wanted the same thing Columbus wanted, that Cortez wanted, that they all wanted! You wanted to conquer us because you could! It’s your right to conquer? It’s our right to be free! We won’t let slavery, inequality, and cultural eradication come back! We’ll fight if it’s the last thing we do!”

Chrysalis rubbed her face, “Say we are similar. What good does it do you? It’s not as though you can make a difference. You are simply two injured humans, a thug and a useless scholar. With a bunch of primitives and abominations who can barely fight off my forces. We control the orbitals, the air, we are on the verge of controlling the second-most powerful empire on this pathetic world. Once we have subdued this world, we will wait for a courier ship, and use it to send a message back and get reinforcements They will be civilized, as will humanity in time. You can’t fight back.”

Melissa rolled over, “You’re wrong. Just a few people can make a difference. A few courageous people can save the world. We can fight, as long as one person still refuses to be broken, refuses to bow down.”

“But can you win?” Chrysalis sneered.

“‘Every time I say no’.”

Chrysalis peered at her, and opened her mouth to say more.

Abruptly, she put a claw to her ear, as if listening to a headset.

She furrowed her brow, then opened her mouth slightly, and her eyes widened. A profoundly furious expression fell slowly across her face, turning to look at the heap of captives before her.

On the ground, a weak beeping emitted from Melissa’s wrist. She raised her head, and shifted her right arm around to look at her watch. The alarm had gone off.
“15:23:06” it read through her own bloodstains covering the face.

Melissa could not hide the satisfied, happy, and predatory grin that stretched across her face, and she managed to turn off the alarm.
She looked up at the ponies, and whispered, “‘Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few’.”

Chrysalis looked down at the beeping sound, and bared her teeth. “You!”

She lifted Melissa up by the collar, “You utter waste of life! What have you done?!”

Melissa grinned, “Suck it, you fucking cunt! Suck on both my--”

With a roar, Chrysalis threw Melissa across the room.

Slamming into the stairs at the base of the throne, Melissa howled with agony as her shoulder dislocated. Her camelback burst, spewing water all over the stairs. However ever so briefly, she laughed.

XXXXX

Roughly eighty minutes earlier, the Sophia’s communication system cut through the rock above it, and through thousands of kilometers of atmosphere and space to reach its fellow lost comrade.

United States Air Force Warrant Officer Ellen Weaver’s body was still strapped into place aboard her Starfury, pieces of shrapnel floating around the interior of the cockpit. Her helmet drifted back and forth gently, her frozen sightless eyes still peering intently at her console. Her hands were still posed to grasp the joysticks, but had been pulled off them and placed in her lap.
Lieutenant JG Brennan hadn’t wanted her to accidentally activate the ship, recalling a scene from the series finale of Battlestar Galactica.

The screens that had remained dark for so long suddenly winked on.

Ship status indicators registered the relatively minor damage, ammunition and fuel levels, and a course calculator displayed the current trajectory with a blue line. The ship was in a stable orbit.

Tactical displays scanned the vicinity. It registered mostly a handful of random objects, space debris, and junk, but there was one massive contact detected.

Text scrolled across the screen. “Handshake protocols accepted. Friendly operator recognized. Remote operation command online.”

The Starfury’s joysticks moved on their own, thrusters making the hull vibrate as it reoriented itself.

On the screens, a purple orbit began to shift itself away from the blue orbit, the change centered on the periapsis. The apoapsis of the purple orbit grew until it reached close to the apoapsis of the larger object.

“Course change projection accepted. Estimated burn time: 30 sec. Estimated time to maneuver node-- 00:00:59:56.”

The orbit display placed the craft’s icon a little further back from the maneuver node, and the Starfury rotated around to face prograde. The direction the orbit was taking it.

An hour passed, and the Starfury's four engines lit off. Slowly, the blue orbit began to shift.

It crawled through thirty seconds of continuous burn, creeping to match up with the purple projected orbit. Finally, acceleration stopped. Weaver's helmet, pushed back against the seat, went limp again.

The maneuver node vanished. On the weapons display, another text box appeared. “Target acquired: track number 1259. Time to firing range-- 00:00:20:05.”

The Earth-time clock read, “15:03:01.”

Time passed again. The timer reflecting off of Weaver’s broken faceplate reached down to zero. In the distance, just barely visible as it came closer and closer, was a damaged starship. A screen enhanced the image, zooming in on the spacecraft and setting it beside an archival image. Numerous hull breaches were labeled, significant damage to its sensors, weapons, subsystems, and the engines. In particular, what the UN forces on old Terra had determined to be the Faster-Than-Light drive, was critically damaged. Functional, but just barely.

The railguns were relatively intact, and an alert indicator registered an energy spike as a slug of ammunition was loaded.

On the planet below, just cresting the horizon, a group of islands glew much brighter than the rest of the tiny soft lights that dotted the globe. These lights were as bright as stars, one could almost mistake them for volcanoes.

The targeting system put a reticule on the ship, a circle appearing around it blinking rapidly.

As the timer reached “00:00:00:00”, two missiles from the Starfury’s limited remaining stockpile detached. Their engines ignited, and they streaked into the dark.

Melissa had felt a vise on her heart as she programmed the Starfury. As far as she knew, that starship was the only way home. If the Weaver opened fire, the missiles had a high chance of destroying the railguns, but also of damaging the warp drive or even destroying the ship if its reactor was damaged.

She’d designated the target anyway.

A graphic of an impact played out. Old and new hull breaches ripped open, blasting atmosphere and tiny thermal signatures into the dark. Energy readings and scans made damage assessments, reading that the railguns were offline...as was the warp drive.

The Changeling engineers had tried to repair the warp drive as best they could, but with limited spare parts, they could only guarantee one more jump before failure. The queen had wanted to save that for getting home, hence why they had never gone for reinforcements--the commander being afraid of what her superiors might say if she came back in shame.

The barely-holding-together warp drive and the damaged weapon systems finally went offline for good. The remaining crew life signs and the reactor were stable, the ship would not explode, but they weren’t getting home anytime soon. Not that the marine who programmed it would know.

Far below, as the crew desperately went to damage control, Air Marshal Chrysalis was alerted to what had happened.

XXXXX

An A-4 Skyhawk fighter of the Andrew Jackson’s air group, Bowler 2-1, twisted in the air and pulled up, firing off her last batch of chaff.

The radar-homing missile took the bait, chasing one of the pieces of foil instead of her plane. She was luckier than her wingman.

Bowler 2-1 breathed a brief sigh of relief, banking around and passing through a cloud to try and avoid getting locked onto again.
Her controls warbled a radar alert, and she started tilting in her seat to try and see where the enemy wasp was.

She could see the distant shape dancing around at her 7 o’clock, and cursed.

The instruments made a constant steady, irritating tone. Locked.

“Let’s see how you pull out of a dive!” the pilot muttered, and headed for the deck.

She broke through the cloud layer, streaking toward the ocean below.

It was a surprisingly beautiful day, 2-1 noted through the g-forces.

The light glinted off the remains of the fleet in the distance, and she could see contrails from other aircraft and missiles criss-crossing the sky.
They were losing. Badly.

“This is Bowler 2-1, I could use some help over here!” she called out, and rapidly pulled up.

She couldn’t see the wasp behind her, but she could also guess that it may not have taken the bait. Her sensors were still telling her there was a threat.

Bowler 2-1 pulled away from the fleet and out to sea, hoping to draw the enemy fighter off or even let the ships shove a missile up their tailpipe.

We’re getting killed out here! At this rate they won’t have to destroy the carrier, all our fast-movers will be gone!

As she streaked across the sea, flying low, her radar picked up something that turned her gut.

Twenty-five new contacts coming from the west.

Reluctantly, she reached for the ejection lever. Her missiles were gone, she’d dropped her air-to-surface munitions a while back, and her machine guns were down to a few milliseconds of fire.
She could see the red dots in the distance through her windshield. The contacts were almost in visual range.

The first enemy fighter appeared in her rear vision, coming out of the clouds. The sensors whined again. Locked.

Red streaks shot out from the contacts in front of her. Missiles.

Her hand curled around the lever, This is gonna hurt!

Suddenly, the radar warning cut off. The wasp pursuing her made a rolling bank to starboard, as the missiles from Bowler 2-1’s 12 o’clock pursued it!

“This is Thunderbird 1,” her radio crackled with an Englishman’s voice, “Hang onto your hat, Bowler 2-1. We’ve got this.”

Three F-4 Phantom II jet fighters accelerated out from the group of approaching contacts, each a member of Thunderbird Flight. The most elite fighter pilots the British Empire had on this world.

“Chesapeake Bay, this is Knightrider squadron, we’re here to lend a hand.” a voice with an American southern accent called out, “Sorry we took so long. We’ll take care of these bugs for ya.”

Bowler 2-1 leaned forward in her seat, catching sight of six F-5E Tiger II fighters off the aircraft carrier USS Woodrow Wilson.

“This is Opus Flight reporting in. Tell us where you want us.” a Welsh voice accompanied the four Phantom jets off the British carrier HMS Prince of Wales.

Finally, the last of the aircraft roared by, as Bowler 2-1 curled around to follow.

“This is 1st Squadron of the Soviet 201st Fighter Aviation Division. The flight has been long, we’re ready to fight.”
The Skyhawk was following in the wake of twelve Soviet MiG-23s.

Bowler 2-1 grinned behind her air mask, watching the aircraft close the distance.

“This is Bowler 2-1 to Old Hickory. Headed back to the barn for rearmament.”

“Copy that, Bowler. You’ll be getting another fire mission when you land, so don’t get too comfy.”

Still alert, the pilot pushed the foot pedals to the right and come about for a landing on the Andrew Jackson.

Off to her starboard side she could still see the engagement in the distance. She heard radio chatter, and watched as missiles lanced out between the targets.

Despite the superior speed, stealth systems, weapons, sensors, and maneuverability of the enemy wasp fighters, there were only nine left. Nine wasps with fuel and munitions partially spent, up against twice as many aircraft much closer to their level of technology fresh for the fight.

XXXXX

Drunken Carnage crested the top of the foothill, and fired at the rear of one of the Changeling main battle tanks.

Even as the enemy tank rotated around to try and fire back, it was too late. A chunk was taken out of the hull. It’s starboard bogies were wrecked, and the turret lifted up on one side for a moment and slammed back down.

The M60 Patton had taken a beating. It was scorched, and battered, with a hole carved in the turret armor by a near-miss from a High-Explosive Anti-Tank round.
They were lucky they had composite armor, if they’d been in a Patton made on Earth they’d have been dead. Those M60s made back home had planned to use composite armor, but they’d never been fitted to production vehicles.

“Driver, get us back on the road!” the commander called out, “Alpha Company’s still in trouble!”

Leaving bits and pieces of armor in their wake, the vehicle roared down the slope, back to the center of the valley and the dirt road.
The valley was in ruins, with fires brewing here and there. Trees had been uprooted by the artillery, bodies were strewn about, and plenty of ruined vehicles. Dozens burned; humvees, Tachikomas, Changeling APCs, their tanks, a few AAVs, trucks, and LAVs. Ogre 2, Berzerk Gladiator, sat off to the side of the road, being pulled aside by the M88 Recovery Vehicle accompanying the tanks. Her gun still stood pointed proudly at the sky, even with the damage she’d taken. Fires burned from her hatches and the hole carved between her turret and hull.

The Skyraiders had come back, along with the two remaining Harrier jump jets, and helped to shred the enemy

Ogre 3, Keen Valkyrie, and a pair of LAVs came up the road behind the remains of the Gladiator, and slowly moved around the wreck.

Drunken Carnage’s commander poked his head up out of the hatch, shouting, “C’mon, c’mon! We gotta get moving!”

He looked at the city in the distance, smoke plumes rising.

Reenactment of Operation Market Garden indeed. They had no word from inside the city. They may have achieved all the objectives but the most important one.
Trucks and humvees from the beach laden with additional infantry arrived, along with more AAVs. The convoy rumbled out once again. What was left of it.

XXXXX

“You will pay for what you've done!” Chrysalis shrieked, flicking the safety off her sidearm.

“Up yours!” Melissa roared, struggling to sit up. She reached back painfully to her camelback, groping at something. Her left arm wasn’t working right, and the right one was full of shrapnel. She could barely close that hand.

Twilight ran down the stairs from the throne, and stood in front of the marine, “Don’t you dare hurt her! One more step and I’ll--”

Chrysalis looked back at the rest of the Mane Six, now only five. “How did you get over--?”

The queen groaned, “Ugh, enough with this drivel! Get out of the way, don’t think I won’t kill you! You’ve already been corrupted by them!”

“I don’t care, you bug-eyed eyeshadow-wearing murderer!” Twilight snarled, “You want to get her, you go through me!”

“This was your plan all along?” Chrysalis demanded, looking at Melissa, “to buy time with your friends lives? I thought better of you, I really did. I didn't think you were suicidal. I suppose that's not surprising though. You’re only human. How you managed to survive this far is beyond me, what with your constant emotional problems and stupidity. Really, did you think your little sneak attack would harm my ship? You may have caused damage, but it will be easily repaired--”

Twilight smirked, “if it was, you wouldn't be so mad.”

Melissa groaned and settled into another position, “my plan was really great, wasn't it?”

She nodded at Twilight, then to the others, “really, wasn't it? Clap for Chrissy, she had an excellent performance.”

Andrew exchanged looks with the ponies, astonished.

Melissa coughed, “Ach, you've all forgotten some key Sun Tzu rules! 'appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.’ then there's 'if you know your enemy and you know yourself you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.’”

Twilight grinned, “You see, Chrissy, we knew you’d try and take us alive.”

“And I knew that you’d bring us to this room with our fellow captives,” Melissa added, “You could never resist the chance to taunt those who’d done you wrong. I knew we’d get in here with Cadence, and her fiance.”

“And that meant once we got you sufficiently distracted, I could then free Cadence, and she could go to Shining Armor, who could then activate the city’s defenses.” Twilight gestured up the throne at Cadence and Shining Armor. Cadence had her fiance in a tight embrace, and he seemed to be coming out of his stupor and trying to power up his horn.

Melissa tried to hold up her index finger, only to yelp when she tried to move her right hand, “... and right about now, he’s waking up, going to ask if the wedding is over, find himself unable to power the shield again, but will be aided by Cadence’s love.”

Chrysalis looked up in shock at the pair near the throne, both now hugging one another. Their horns connected, and a buildup of energy was created. It formed into a sphere, that swiftly expanded outwards.

“No...no, no, no no!” Chrysalis shrieked pointing her pistol at Cadence and squeezing the trigger.

XXXXX

Alpha Company had sustained heavy casualties. A damaged Changeling cockroach shuttle had crashed near the headquarters, forcing the evacuation of the area and the capturing of the hospital.
While no one in the hospital was hurt, and were treated fairly, without a central location it made CASEVAC much harder. Along the entire line the ponies and marines were breaking, falling back as they ran out of ammo and personnel. Desperate last stands were made, admirable acts of courage and valor alongside cowardice and shame.
Sweeping over the southwest side of the city, the cliffside, the bugs were able to pierce the flanks, adding to the violent tidal wave of soldiers already coming up from the direction of the residential district.

The marines had given it their best, and continued to do so. The Equestrian Army, despite their lack of equipment and training, quickly adapted. They held out in dirty house-to-house fighting.
But still, without reinforcements, they were losing.

Second Squad of Third Platoon, along with their attached M240 and Carl Gustaf squad, were still holding out at the bridge. They’d taken casualties, and been joined by a handful of stragglers from other units, and held off several major attacks.

Staff Sergeant Marcus Gardner fired a final burst from his weapon, the rounds pinging off the corner of the buildings the bugs were hiding behind. His M240 was running hot, the spent ammunition lying about his feet.
As he ceased fire, the second M240 on the floor above him opened up on the same position.
The machine gun squad was defending a tall building built right next to the bridge that they’d appropriated from a kindly old pony couple. They’d been keeping the road clear. Not that it would matter, if they lost.
Gardner felt a tap on his shoulder, and looked up to his loader, who was waving at another window.
“They’re making another charge!” he screamed, both their hearing damaged from the weapon despite what ear protection they had.

Gardner heaved the weapon up and rushed over, careful to avoid tripping on the original gunner, prone with crimson stains across his chest.
As he set the gun down and adjusted it with his loader’s help, the loader cried out in pain as the weapon bumped into him.
“You alright?!” Gardner yelled.

“Shrapnel! I’m fine, sir!”

Well, that was it. Gardner was the only soldier in the squad not wounded or dead. A lucky grenade had taken out their third machine gun, the gunner for this M240 was killed when he stuck his head out the window, and they’d taken a lot of fire before the bugs figured out that flying around in the air wasn’t a good way to avoid casualties.

Their other loader was in the corner nursing a busted ankle and watching one side of the building; he’d tripped, ironically.
A handful of riflemen were scattered around the building as well as a few other structures nearby. Their most severely wounded occupied the ground floor defenses of each building.

A sniper team was on the roof, taking cover whenever the junebugs flew overhead. The Stinger team had run out of ammunition around the same time they’d been cut off from the HQ and the supply depot. On the second floor, a Carl Gustaf team still had ammo, but if the enemy mounted another armored attack that wouldn’t last.

There were several dozen Equestrian Army soldiers with them as well, providing simple warm bodies to throw into the fight if nothing else.

Gardner fired on a group of bugs making a dash for an overturned cart. They just kept coming; another one of their squads had already done the same thing ten minutes ago.

The machine gun upstairs took its turn, and in the pause, Gardner looked in the direction of the HQ, to the north-east. There was an explosion from that direction. He hoped it was a spider tank blowing up and not one of the humvees.

Return fire made him duck, and the loader fell down beside him. Shrapnel had hit his left side earlier, but now a round had caught him right in the palm.
Picking up the private and dragging him to the side, Gardner called out hoarsely, “Where is that medevac?!”

He managed to get a few riflemen to take his place at the gun and their only medic took the loader off his hands.

The griffin carrying the PRC-77 portable transceiver fiddled with the knobs. He spoke rapidly into the microphone, and looked up at the sergeant with fear and despair, “CASEVAC doesn’t have anywhere to put down! The HQ’s been overrun! Something about a cockroach shuttle crashing there! Organization’s shot all to hell, and no one knows where the captain and his staff are!”

There was an explosion in the distance, closer this time.

“What about sending them through the train tunnels? The maintenance ways?”

“Those are packed full of refugees, and the trains can only go one way. There’s no guarantee that the medevacs could pick them up, even if we could get them in, and pony hospitals are full too.”

A third explosion, and the distant sound of some heavy weapon firing. It sounded heavier than the Bushmasters on the LAVs, but Gardner couldn’t be sure.

“What about ammo? Reinforcements? Any news from 2nd platoon?”

“I can’t get anything from them, sir! Lines are getting all jammed up, and I think the radio might’ve taken a hit when I did,” the griffin gestured to the bandage covering his wing; a chunk of the radio had been taken out by the same round, but he’d sworn it could still function earlier…

The machine gun crew on the 2nd floor took a break to allow the 1st to open fire. Both weapons were running hot, they couldn’t afford to fire too long.

The gunner, a dragon, swapped out with the other crewmember, a human.

He leaned against the wall beside the broken window the M240 stuck out of, and felt his stomach gurgling.

The PFC realized he hadn’t eaten since morning, and drew out an MRE.

The third member of the gun crew, a pony, and the human gunner both stared at him like he was crazy, but realized they’d done the same thing.
As the pony took out an MRE herself, she cocked her head to one side.

“What’s the matter?” the dragon asked.

“Listen! I thought I heard bagpipes!”

The dragon rolled his eyes, “Don’t be daft.”

Another explosion went off, making them all flinch.

The pony cocked her head again, and put down her MRE to peek out a window facing the bridge.

“Incoming!” Someone called out, and Gardner looked out a window in horror to see a Changeling MBT coming out of a side road on the other side of the plaza.

Their Carl Gustaf wouldn't hurt it. They were dead.

There was a harsh barking sound immediately followed by a high-pitched shriek that sounded bizarrely like a combination of a sci-fi laser and a cartoon bullet noise, then succeeded by a rocket motor.

In the blink of an eye, the enemy tank vanished to be replaced with a massive dark mushroom cloud.
They could see the bottom of the tank halt completely, throwing what remained of the turret forward onto the ground. The mushroom cloud dissipated somewhat into a simple dark smoke cloud fed by what remained of the vehicle.

The pony gunner’s face lit up at what she saw. She slapped the dragon’s arm, and pointed, “I told you I heard bagpipes! It’s the reinforcements!”

Sitting on the end of the bridge was a small squat tracked vehicle, bearing a missile rack billowing smoke on its roof. It was an FV102 Striker anti-tank guided missile carrier emblazoned with the labels of the British 6th Airborne Armoured Reconnaissance Regiment. It carried descendants of the Vought High-Velocity Missiles(HVM), steel rods with rocket motors attached that flew at mach 6, instead of the conventional Swingfire missiles as those Strikers on Earth used. The HVM could punch through any tank another missile couldn’t.

Alongside it, snaking along the road down the mountain, were columns of Terran Alliance soldiers in fatigues lighter than those of the marines, and some in fatigues that resembled those of Operation Desert Storm. US Army and British Army airborne soldiers respectively. The airborne reinforcements had finally arrived.

The sound of the song Black Bear grew stronger, as a British soldier walked alongside the Striker, blasting a set of bagpipes as a Scotsman had done seventy years before.

He followed close behind an officer wearing a beret instead of a helmet, with a sword in one hand and a submachine gun in the other. They were elements of the British Army 7th (Light Infantry) Parachute Battalion, a part of the 1st Parachute Brigade.

Behind the Striker were FV107 Scimitar armored reconnaissance vehicles, as well as trucks and jeeps of the air-transportable variety bearing Union Jacks or the Stars and Stripes.

Coming up even further down the line were several small fast-moving tanks with low turrets and almost cartoonishly-long barrels. Mauler Light Tanks, a detachment of the US Army 76th Tank Battalion, attached to the 188th Airborne Infantry Regiment now advancing alongside them.

Gardner, as the most senior officer not incapacitated in any way, rushed down the stairs and outside.

He sprinted up to the British officer wielding the sword, “Colonel Lawford, sir!”

Lawford nodded, “Staff Sergeant. Sorry we’re late!”

“Better late than never, sir.”

“What’s the situation?”

Gardner pointed at the other end of the plaza, “The bugs are regrouping a few hundred meters that way. Headquarters got overrun, and we’re expecting--”

A flash of light made everyone duck. In the distance came a massive pulse of energy, a distortion in the air approaching rapidly from the castle.

The soldiers could see the Changelings rising up from the other side of the plaza, they could see their aircraft beginning to pull away from the distortion.

It was too fast. As the barrier passed, a shimmer effect rippled over Changeling aircraft, infantry, and vehicles. Everything that belonged to the Changelings shifted back, as if blown away from the center of the energy sphere, before seemingly fading into mist.

The rumble of weapons fire had decreased massively. Lawford and Gardner looked on in disbelief, then to each other.

Equestrian soldiers, and some of those ponies wearing Alliance uniforms, sent up a cheer, emerging from cover and dancing for joy.

Lawford shook his head, “Alright, move out! Everyone forward!”

Several blocks away in the ruins of a factory, Captain Hansen emerged from cover, looking around for any opponents.

“What’s going on, Captain? Did they all get vaporized?” a clerk asked, their hands still shaking on their M16.

Hansen shook his head, grinning somewhat somber, “No, if I know the horses, they just got teleported somewhere else on the planet where they won’t bother us. Now, hopefully Vaughn’s unit--”

He gazed toward the castle, and called out, “Oh...I need a radio! This fight may not be over. We need someone up at that castle ASAP!”

XXXXX

The bullet just barely avoided hitting Cadence, but had given her quite a fright. It drove into the throne a mere moment after Queen Chrysalis had vanished.

There was no more artillery fire in the distance, no sickening sound of engines that were not human or pony-made.

The ponies cheered, with Cadence and Shining Armor embracing each other with joy. They’d won!

Andrew choked back sobs, holding his stomach and other injuries, and stumbled over to the marine lying on the stairs. Twilight was still standing over Melissa, holding her hooves up hesitantly. She was just in time to catch Andrew as he fell to his knees beside her.

Melissa moaned, and rolled back onto one side. Fresh blood stained the bandages, and the dislocated shoulder was overcoming her painkillers. She writhed around in pain, holding her wounds.

“Medic…” she called out weakly, “Medic…!”

“Melissa!” Andrew cried, moving his hands erratically, and unsure of what to do, “Hey, hey someone help me!”

Fluttershy ran over, as did the others.

“Melissa, can you hear me?” Fluttershy asked, lifting the marine’s head.

“She’s hurt bad!” Twilight said, pointing at Melissa’s shoulder. It was flattened compared to the other one.
“Oh Christ…” Andrew hissed, wincing.

Distractedly, Twilight pointed to Rainbow Dash and Applejack, “See if you can free Celestia and Luna! Maybe they can help!”

Melissa opened her eyes, moaning, “Does anyone...know...know how to reset a dislocated...thing?”

They all looked at each other, and she barked, “If someone doesn’t know...I’ll-- I’ll-- I’ll do it...ngh...myself!”

“No! Bad idea!” Fluttershy snapped, “Pinkie Pie, go and find--”

The doors slammed open, and four marines emerged carrying Changeling rifles. A hippogriff, an african-american man, a dragon, and a caucasian man.

Twilight sighed with relief, “Sergeant Vaughn! Sergeant Vaughn! We need your help!”

Vaughn looked around, “What happened? Our guards vanished and--”

Santiago spotted Melissa, “Oh hell.”

He rushed over, pulling out his medical kit and looking her over.

“What happened?”

Fluttershy explained, “Shrapnel wounds in the arm and leg, a dislocated shoulder. She’s been kicked four times in the stomach, once in the leg, and once in the rib cage!”

Santiago unzipped Melissa’s PASGT vest and yanked down her shirt. He grimaced at the blood and purple marks already forming, “Bad bruising. We’re going to need an x-ray, but she might have a cracked rib.”

“Can you save her?” Andrew asked.

“Get a CASEVAC!” Vaughn barked to Wagner.

“Out of the way!” Santiago shouted, shoving the onlookers away, “Ms. Fluttershy, help me change her bandages.”

He took out a small syringe from his kit, and shoved Melissa’s sleeve up.

As the morphine injection made the pain go away, for Melissa, everything seemed to fade into the distance.

Stretcher. Straps keeping her held down. They were carrying her somewhere. American accents, someone reassuring her…

It was vaguely like being on the edge of a dream, where lucidity ended and began. She knew she was awake, but she wasn’t at the same time. She could think in the dreamscape, but it was like that was the foreground, while the ceiling of the real world passing overhead was the background.

Oh my god. I have shrapnel in me.

Shrapnel, shrapnel, shrapnel. Little bits of metal, right? What was the dictionary term?

What was shrapnel doing inside her?

Your job is to run around a battlefield doing demolitions and shit, you moron!

Shrapnel injuries. What did they entail? She couldn’t remember. Everything was so foggy. It was like the soldier had been put to sleep and the geek brought to the surface, her first aid training going with it.

She blinked. They were outside.

The golden hour, wasn’t that it? The time it would take for a helicopter to get back to base and save a soldier’s life.

How was she still thinking like this? Surely…

Helicopter. Inside, looking up. She weakly rolled her head to the left, seeing how small it was, that basic blood tray...No, that was Pelicans. She couldn’t remember the slang term for the crew compartment on a Huey.

Huey. Was he the red duck or one of the others?

No...The other Huey.

Yes, she was in a UH-1N Twin Huey. It had that square compartment with the corners for the door gunners, and completely open. When did she get aboard?

I am so fucking high right now...

Wait, this wasn’t the ship. Her stretcher was being carried through open air, there was no sound of the sea…

A tent she didn’t recognize. Cool air inside.

Transfer to a bed, or a cot or something.

Marines with rifles. Why in the medical tent?

She saw a bug. Bug. Looked like a skitter…

Oh shit.

Melissa started rolling, trying to move and get away.

“Emperors, not again!” an odd voice said, and pulled her back onto the bed.

“Urk…” she gargled, trying to punch the person. Was she super weak, or were her muscles just drugged?

Her right hand wouldn’t clench, it hurt too much. At the same time, that hand made contact with something and sent a jet of flame through the fog down her forearm.

She lay back on the bed with a hollow and weak shriek, holding her arm.

“Oh sure, ignore the doctor, that’s good for you…” the voice muttered. It came from a bug in her field of vision. There was a human marine behind him though. What was going on?

“Lokhagos Larynx,” she guessed the first word was some sort of rank, “this one’s got several shrapnel injuries in her wrist, thigh, tibia, and her knee is partially shattered. She’s also got bruises across her chest, a cracked rib, and a dislocated shoulder,” Another voice said.

Shattered? My...knee? Shattered? Oh, fuck me. Fuck.

Melissa tilted her head, and could see a Navy doctor in surgical garb, “Lucky she had that vest on or she’d have broken more ribs. No need for your assistance. We’ve already reset the shoulder and we can get most of the shrapnel out on our own, thanks.”

Little consultation for my knee, sir...Fuck!

“Most of it?!” shrieked the first voice, the bug she thought, “What are you going to do, Nelson, leave foreign objects in the patient? Such shallow wounds?”

“If necessary, yes. We’ll try and get out the other fragments--”

“What kind of barbarism is this? If you leave some of this stuff in, she won’t be able to use her hand! She probably won’t be able to walk again if you don't replace that knee!”

“Lokhagos, I understand where you’re coming from, but it just isn’t possible. We’ve determined those pieces cannot be moved without further damage! Cutting--”

The bug snarled, “So you want to not only leave harmful foreign objects in the patient, you want to hack her open and then go rooting around inside for a look-see?! With those bloody instruments?! No wonder you think removal is the problem!”

“Well, we’re going to clean it off obviously--”

“Gee, glad you apes know what germ theory is! Clearly you don’t have a good idea of it if you’re still sewing them together! By all the emperors above, cutting her up was what started this and you want to take it further? Put away your butcher knives and stay away from this patient! We can remove the shrapnel using a magnetic laser scalpel!”

“A what?”

“Captain Nelson, leave the serious cases to me and keep your damned leeches away from the rest of patients. Nurse, we need a general anesthetic. We'll need an x-ray and a 3D scan of her left knee.”

What? Why?

“Why the good knee?” The Navy doctor demanded.

“We need to save the leg!”

“What, were you planning on cutting it off?”

“Are you insane? Why would anyone do that?! Get out of my operating theater, you butcher!”

An air mask of some kind was placed over her face.

There was a sense of panic as she started falling into blackness, and she started struggling, “No...no…”

“Someone help me here.”

Human hands started holding her down, “Sergeant, you’re okay, we’re just putting you under for surgery…”

“Bug...bug!”

“Okay, is that a slur? Why do they all call me that?”

Slowly, darkness enveloped Melissa, but it wasn’t a harsh darkness. More like falling into a deep sleep.

She could give up now. She could stop fighting. No one would blame her. She’d done her fair share. Her mission was over. She could rest…

XXXXX

Those vast cool Green Mountains, Vermont, the United States, North America...the world that was humanity’s home, that green spinning space mote…

Her heart reached out longingly, grasping for the green hills of home.

All she wished for was one last landing on that globe, to see the fleecy skies and cool green hills of Earth.

One last time. She wanted to see those hills again. That was all she wanted.

To feel the sweet fresh breezes of a Vermont summer again, to feel as they roved around that lovely globe that gave her birth…

She could rest, couldn’t she?

Couldn’t she?

The cool, green hills of Earth...so distant they were now. That little ball of dirt, what made it special? This new world was full of so many wondrous things, to fill a lifetime. She could rest here…

Couldn’t she?

One last landing on Earth...to rest her eyes on the Green Mountains…

One last landing…

She could rest here…

“No! Take me back! Take me back home!”

“It’s not so bad here. Why do you keep struggling? You’ve made a life here.”

“I can’t stay here! I can’t die here!”

“Why not? It’s just dirt. What would you do if you went home? What would be the point? The others who came through the wormhole had to die here too, why can’t you accept it?”

“Because I can’t! I can’t! I can’t let my people live in fear of the universe!”

“They were fine before.”

“I can’t let them go down the dark side! Don’t you understand? They don’t know what I know! They haven’t seen this world!”

“You’ve seen it. Isn’t that enough?”

“It’s not! I can’t leave them like that! This world is so full of wonders, and we can’t share them with home! I can’t stand the thought of Earth not seeing this! I have to make it home, I have to show them that the universe isn’t scary! We’re just getting off the planet, I can’t let them be afraid now! They’ll be afraid, they’ll be terrified that they’ll have to fight to survive in a hostile universe! I have to show them that they won’t! I have to show them this place! I have to show Earth how much friendship means! I have to show them the discoveries we’ve made, I have to show them the film I took! The scientific knowledge! I have to show them that love, and kindness exist elsewhere in the universe!”

“You’re just trying to become famous. Do you really care about Andrew, about the ponies? The Alliance? Do you really care about Earth?”

“I do! I do care! I don’t want them to stay like this, I want to get everyone home! I want to bring everyone home, I want everyone to see their families again! But we can’t stay with only that, we need to stay in contact with each other! I want--I need to show them all they don’t have to be afraid. I want to help humanity reach out into the stars, and make friends instead of enemies. I don’t want us to be the Imperium, I want to be the Federation! I want peace on Earth, I want friendship for everyone! I want us to learn from the ponies, to love and care about each other, I want...I want…”

“What do you want?”

“I want a happy ending. For everyone.”