An airship flying the colors of the minotaur council and the TSDI side by side cut through the air, propelled by massive propellers and a jet of thaumic power that pushed against it at speeds that would have been considered quite reckless just a few years prior, before the humans arrived and changed the paradigms.

The entire vessel vibrated softly, but there was a steady envelope around the craft, keeping most of the brutal wind from pushing on it and those that worked on the deck. They were making good time across the waters, several watchers peering out across the endless blue with binoculars. "South-Southwest!"

Other glasses turned to confirm and shouts came up to agree. The sides of the airship flipped open as great bulbous pods were shoved into position. A moment later each was glowing dangerously, power leaping from one bulge to the next like electrified tips.

The EFC jets came in hot, their machine guns testing the airship's shields and finding them sufficient. The captain scowled at the glowing spots where the munitions had struck. "Fire!" he roared, pointing at the rapidly moving planes. Even made faster, human jets were still faster than a proper airship could hope to be.

They had the advantage of size and stability. It meant they could field heavier offenses, and heavier defenses. Even if humans had the means to create such shields, the power to do so would likely tax a jet terribly, and be half as effective.

The entire starboard side of the ship lit up, power rushing from one post to the next in fitful sparks a moment before it became a unified mass. In a wave of pulsing colors, the energy was disgorged in the angriest, and last, rainbow the jet pilot would ever see. His plane was reduced to parts, raining down on the ocean.

"Horseapples," cursed an equine airman. "They can fight back!" She didn't wear a helmet. She had no need. The air was thick enough even at great heights, and pegasi could handle great amounts of Gs naturally. With a sharp turn that might have blacked out a human, she pulled away from the next blast, causing it to miss by mere inches. "I am under fire, under fire! I have lock..."

Her wings were dancing over controls. She had no fingers, but her wings were quite dextrous, as if she had countless fingers that could spread over the cabin, working to keep her plane away from enemy fire. "Who's with me?"

"Still here," came a human reply. "Let's see how they like a little fire." With a rapid series of rushing missiles, he unloaded on the relatively slow airship. "Take that you sons of bitches."

Rocking the enemy vessel, great blossoms of fire erupted along their shields, forcing fine cracks along the energetic bubble that protected them. It was clear they couldn't ignore the attacks if they wanted to avoid the fate they had pushed on the first jet. "Fire!" roared the captain, pointing to the side of the ship that was charged and ready. "Knock them out of the sky!"

The pegasus had pushed forward on her stick with a suddenness they had warned against in training. She could feel her everything rising sharply inside of her. Even her pegasus-hardened gravity resistance was tested, her vision narrowing frightfully as it tinted an angry red, but the deadly rainbow seared the air just over her craft instead of disintegrating her.

"Target the other one," fumed the captain, stamping a foot on the deck. "It's not moving like a drunken fly in the wind."

"Charging, sir!" Their systems were deadly, when they hit. Hitting was supposed to be a simple thing, with the technology involved, but a pegasus pilot made it harder than it should have been.

Rason slammed a fist down on his desk. The fighting was not going how anyone had planned. Outnumbered, outgunned, and outmatched in basically every way, the focus was on ending the conflict with minimal casualties, but that had failed. Clashes were not being won decisively.

It wasn't that America was losing, heaven forfend. They were still the superior side, easily, but each victory was coming at a cost. The minotaurs were actually standing their own, digging in their heels, or whatever that was called on a hoof, and were not folding like a set of dominoes as was expected.

The ponies had had the fight beat out of them in a single bombing run. The minotaurs promised a long and costly battle for both sides. Worse...

Rason threw a hand over the papers in front of them. They were not on the defensive. TSDI attacks were peppering any ship or plane in open water. Where the ponies had not even the faint hint of air defenses, TSDI countries had begun immediately bringing down anything in their airspace the moment war was declared. TSDI boats opened on any ship not sailing TSDI flags.

While American war vessels could defend themselves, civilian efforts were becoming a tattered mess, and they didn't have nearly enough to protect them all and wage a war. They had not even a shred of hesitation on opening fire on civilian targets.

The Coast Guard suddenly had a lot to do, protecting ships inside American waters, but the trouble didn't even really start there. Tradelines between America and its allies were being hampered everywhere.

"Sir." An aide knocked once from the door. "News."

"Good?"

"Unfortunately not." The aide hurried in and added more paper to the collection.

Rason sighed softly as he took it and quickly had his eyes on it. They were attacking. A real attack. A prodigiously enormous force of ships, sea and air, were moving to strike at Hawaii again, as if the first time hadn't been enough.

If he assumed they were roughly equal with American ships, it would have been a great fight with Hawaii's forces... who weren't there. They had set sail in large part to make a decisive strike of their own. "Damn it all..." They had hoped to pound some hesitation into the bulls, to hit hard and fast and leave them reeling.

Most of the enemies they had fought since World War 2 had not been such a... fair fight in terms of naval and air control.

Did he order the navy to withdraw back to Hawaii to defend it, or have hope in the local forces there? Eyeing the satellite images, he had doubts Hawaii could repel them. Since the world did not move, each satellite could only see so much from where it was put, and TSDI countries did not allow casual launches of satellites over their heads. That was how they had missed this approach until then...

"Let's make them regret they came to poke at this tiger." He reached for his phone to make a quick call. The missile defenses of Hawaii would welcome the bulls warmly in a wash of death long before they could even spot Hawaii over the horizon. Hawaii was home to a great many missiles, built, tested, and ready for emergencies.

That emergency had never arrived while they were on Earth. That day had arrived.

A sharply dressed man stood in the cluttered place of science. "A great deal of funding could ride on your answer. Can you do this?"

He was facing a scientist, but Sunburst was also there, frowning a bit. "They're a far way off from anything rem--"

The scientist raised a hand, cutting off Sunburst. "We can try."

"American lives are on the line." He drew a single sheaf of paper clear of his suitcase. "We want all efforts diverted to this task. You could make a real and immediate difference."

Signatures were applied. The lab was conscripted for military use. Magic was needed for military applications, yesterday preferably. The amount offered in funding was too large to turn down, with the complexities of the equipment involved growing and their desire to push ahead leaping ahead with it. They wanted magic, and that required money. Money the government was willing to foot.

Sunburst willed his phone out and dialed a number. "Hello?"

"Sunburst," greeted Starlight through the device. "How's America? You getting all fat and disgusting?"

"Still the same scrawny stallion I ever was," laughed Sunburst with a faint smile. "I have a report."

"Oh, uh, shoot, one second." He could hear the phone being dropped and some other things shuffling about. "Now where..." Her voice sounded distant as if she were not close to the phone. "Here we go." Her voice picked up again. "Here's Celestia's number. I'm with a bunch of American soldiers, so I'm the wrong pony for that."

Sunburst blinked dumbly. "What?"

"Long story. Don't worry, I got this under control. Here's the number." She began reciting the number to reach Princess Celestia. "Wish me luck!"

He opened his mouth to ask a thousand questions, but the line was already dead. Starlight was fighting? He sagged with a miserable sigh and started dialing Celestia's number. "Hello?"

"Hello," responded Celestia in her calm tone. "I'm afraid I don't know who this is."

"This is Sunburst, uh, ma'am."

"Sunburst! Little Flurry's crystaller, a pleasure. How may I help you today?" She sounded gentle and warm, like a welcoming mother more than a reigning princess.

Sunburst smiled gently in response, remembering the classes he had with her. "I've been watching them, uh, you know, and helping with their studies, and learning. Remember?"

"I do remember that. Did you call to tell me how it goes? Did you learn anything interesting?"

"Countless things," he sighed out. "But one in specific I thought I'd mention. We've been conscripted into the war effort. They'll be studying war magic, and they have barely gotten telekinesis grasped."

"They have telekinesis?"

"Has Starlight not been relaying my letters?" He rolled his eyes even as he adjusted his glasses. "Basic and rudimentary, but it works. I'll be working with them on... war applications. I thought somepony should know... and maybe advise?"

"You're asking if you should run."

"I... am..." Sunburst peeked over his shoulder nervously. "Should I?"

"If you do, they will continue without you, and we simply won't know what's going on. Sunburst, thank you. I understand your fear, and it is well grounded, but having you there is quite valuable." There was a noise of the phone moving or something moving near the phone. "Now that I have your direct number, and you have mine, you should inform me directly as things happen."

"Of course, um, Your Highness." He bowed, not that the phone was watching him. "I... think I would like to return to Equestria, when this is over..."

"We would be delighted to have you back among us," assured Celestia's gentle tones, so warm and protective. "Listen, learn, and grow, my little pony. Help them learn while you are there, but you are a pony, and I will not forget that. Thank you."

"Thank you," he got out without a stutter. He felt better, smiling a little. "Thank you," he repeated. "I'll text you as things come up, alright?"

"I will eagerly await your every word."

He pressed the red button, ending the call. He had a job to do.

Hoku threw himself off the transport, bullets already striking where he had been standing before. With a great cry, he charged down the road, veering from cover to cover, his rifle up and ready. Movement, he fired. There, another flash, he fired. Was he hitting? He didn't know. He couldn't know. All he did know was that he had to make it down that road.

"For America!" He screamed as if the power of his voice could somehow decide the battle. Rough cries echoed his own, for he was not alone. He was one soldier among many, all pushing against fierce resistance. He was a cog in the machine, and he would be a well-oiled sprocket that would turn, helping propel it against its enemies in a tidal wave of flesh.

They would regret fighting with his country.

Author's Notes:

The war is happening, yo. Neither side is willing to give up easily. The casualties are already rising, both soldier and civilian. It makes the 'war' with Equestria seem so very petty.

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