Great vessels floated well off the shore of the minotaur lands and their deadly magic beams. They were there, awaiting the word, and when it arrived, they came alive, disgorging plane after plane at a prodigious rate. America prided itself on its air mastery, and it was time to demonstrate it.

The planes took off facing away from the minotaur lands, having to turn back around and approach, each from a different angle, lest they give away the position of the great floating platforms they were coming from. From the eye of the defending bulls, it was as if the jets were arriving side by side from across the ocean.

They reacted with prismatic beams that struck so quickly, most of the jets were powerless to evade. Evasive moves were taken, making them a harder target to aim at. Better pilots could manage tighter turns, challenging the defense, and also making their slower brothers more tempting targets.

The mare that had flown against those weapons once before had been brought back, her wings flared out towards all the controls at once she could reach. "Never fly straight for longer than you have to, but don't black yourself out." She knew humans couldn't quite stomach the same Gs she could, even if that last fight had left her dizzy and sick for a while. "You're no good if you crash, and sleeping pilots are going down."

"Copy that, moving on target." The wing, jittering as it was, approached the very source of their torment. There was more than one turret spitting death at them, but they all had to go to give proper support to forces further inland. Missiles streaked, crashing against the bright shields of their enemy in a carpet of concussive fury.

"BUL out." A guided munition streaked out at the unmoving target. Its payload was surprisingly un-explosive. It was heavy. That was its job, to be heavy and massive and propelled at a terrific speed. It struck the shield with the clarion call of a massive bell being struck, the shield ringing with the force as it dissolved, smoke escaping the turret where its shield generator gave way under the crippling impact. The munition fell the rest of the way, crashing against the roof of the turret in a spray of cement from the sudden crater it made.

They were not alone. The air was suddenly occupied by enemy aircraft, flying in to intercept and protect their turrets. The mare jinked and bobbed, straining her body and her jet as she fought as hard as she could. A lance of colors soared just inches from her right wing and she wrenched the stick to the side.

It was too much, the wing tore free of her abused jet, right along the line of the grazing hit and she began to spin wildly. "Horse apples!" She tried to do... something, anything, but her entire world was spinning. Even her pegasus given resistance was not nearly enough to withstand it, and the world faded from her.

Her jet smashed into the ground, an explosion marking her grave site.

The battle raged on without her, jet against bull craft. Turrets firing on the jets. The jets bombed the turrets. Many brave pilots on either side ending the lives of those on the other side, but the humans had more jets, and more pilots. They had made their gambit, and were not backing away. That airspace would fall under American control, it was a matter of time.

The bulls were determined to make that as long of a time as possible.

Thorax was also at that table, fidgeting nervously. "That doesn't sound very... good."

Rason fixed Thorax with a steely gaze. There he was, the prime traitor. The one that took so much from his queen... The one that seemed so very weak... "Did you bring your broodmate?"

Thorax's ears perked right up, blinking at Rason with confusion. "Oh, wow. I'm used to creatures calling us brothers, which we are kinda..."

Rason internally swore at his slip. A human would not call them a broodmate. "Your brother, yes. I was trying to be polite."

"I really appreciate it." Thorax was all smiles, as if the choice of words had just made his day. "He's waiting outside, why?"

Celestia arched a brow. "Are they privy to some information that we need be aware of?"

Novo gestured her head towards the guards that stood around her. "You could have just brought him in with you. This isn't one of those meetings."

"I wanted to be polite." Thorax hopped to his hooves and trotted off.

Luna was watching Rason intently. "Have you had prior dealings with him?"

"Only once." Truthful there. "But we have an ongoing project I need to update him on."

All eyes turned to the door, where answers were likely to come. Thorax entered with Pharynx at his side. The less-colorful changeling walked with confidence, nodding towards the world leaders. "Greetings. Ah, are you their king?" He was looking at Rason intently. "I trust things have gone according to plan?"

Rason quietly appreciated the attempt at subtlety, but he was also the one to blow it. "I hired a changeling spy. That is the source of our intelligence. This same spy is, at this moment, in a high danger area. It is very likely they will return gravely ill and it will not be easily treated."

Eyes widened around the table. Pharynx, on the other hoof, was scowling. "What did you do to him?!" He stormed up to the table, looking fit to tear something, or someone, in half. "He's my best 'ling!"

Rason raised a lone hand. "We did nothing, and it wasn't a factor when we first spoke. The nuclear device that destroyed their capital spread fallout all across the area that he is traveling without protection. The odds of him being given a dangerous dose of radiation is 100% with rounding. I told him to get away, but even when I last spoke to him, he was already feeling its effects. When he returns, if he returns, he will likely be extremely sick."

Pharynx reared up just to slam his hooves down on the table, denting it in his fury. "He's my friend," he roared, wings spread wide. "He's.... one of the few changelings that... gets me. Damn it all..."

Thorax's eyes were brimming with tears. "Oh no... What can we do?! What do you do when this happens?"

"We have some treatments that can hasten the healing process, but some of its damage is... permanent." Rason reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I'm telling you this so that you can advise him, if he contacts you, to leave. He is already acting on borrowed time. The sooner we can get him back, decontaminate him, and begin the healing process, the better."

Cadance dipped her head towards the two changeling leaders. "Thank you, for your sacrifice. What they have learned is... of grave importance. I only hope it does not cost them too dearly. I will confess... I had some measure of doubt, President Rason. It is easy for you to say, in your position... But this.... changes things."

Novo nodded in soft agreement. "Pharynx, tell us true. Did your agent share with you what they told America?"

Pharynx looked away a moment with a grumbling. "Maybe..." Not that the changeling should have, in theory. Acting for two intelligence bodies at once was touchy at best.

"Then tell us, with your own words, what they said." She held up a taloned hand towards Rason. "Free of your input. I would hear it from him. He gains nothing by lying for your benefit." Even better, Pharynx had not been there to know what lie would serve the Americans.

Hoku hurled a grenade forward, smoke erupting from it moments later, giving them some measure of cover. They were fighting hard, but it was a retreat under fire, and there was only so far they could go before they ran into the rest of their friends, already fighting bitterly. They were, to put it bluntly, losing.

To his mild pride, he still had his two squad mates standing. If Paul had been there... He shook out that thought. It wouldn't help him or the soldiers entrusted to his leadership.

"Black on Ammo."

Hoku didn't hesitate to surrender his last remaining magazine. That soldier had the eyes of an eagle and sure hands to go with it. Surely he could make better use of their dwindling resources. "Status?" He was looking at the other squaddie. They hadn't distinguished themselves, other than not dying, which counted for quite a bit.

"Black," the other grunted. "We're going to die... Hey, Hoku... Permission to do something stupid?"

"Denied!" hissed their otter command. "What are you even thinking?"

"Paul has a lot of ammo that's not being used." He looked across the battlefield to the torn body of their former friend. "If I can get to it and back..."

"Dead before halfway." Hoku slapped his tail against the ground, body shaking. They were all about as good as dead. "Grenades. Lay smoke. Keep low, keep fast. Faster than ever before. Faster than you thought you could go. Fast."

"Yeah, fast, got it." He put his hands on the lip of the little trench they were hunkered in. "Get me all the cover you can."

Smoke erupted from their last such grenades. Their supplies were all running out, desperate to even hold what little position they had. "Hoku, no regrets." He slapped the back of his commanding co-private and scrambled over the edge, running as if the devil was right behind him, but it wasn't a devil. They were lancing bolts of prismatic hues, striking all around him, firing blind through the smoke. The ground kicked up dirt at him and his feet slipped and twisted across the cratered ground, but he was still running.

A shape emerged from the smoke, a small combatant wielding two angrily glowing melee weapons. The weasel with a full-body armor, including his head, hissed and charged at him, weapons going off in two directions in preparation for a cross slash.

He slammed into the ground, several bullets from a burst catching him in the head, but he wasn't dead, just knocked silly. The strange helmet he wore spread out the impact, causing him to be bowled over instead of outright killed. The rushing soldier grabbed one of the dropped little swords, but raced past the weasel.

Partially disarmed, the weasel sprang back up to his feet, only to be forced back, a fresh burst catching him in the chest. He spat up blood, the bludgeoning power of it clearly injuring him, even if his armor kept any one bullet from being a finishing blow. He rushed ahead and dove behind the building they had once used for cover, removing himself from the would-be sniper's sights.

Their last hope came down in a sliding tackle, knocking Paul's corpse into a slight divot in the ground and falling over with them. He was out of sight for a moment. Hoku let out a breath he had been holding. That was the halfway mark, he was already wrong. He made a silent promise to buy his squaddie a drink the next time he could, if ever there came such a time.

"If it moves, shoot it." Not that he needed to tell his sharpshooting squadmate that, but there was little more for him to do but watch and wait. He let his empty gun hang and drew his dagger. He could imagine combat coming down to that, though he had trouble imagining it would remain at that for very long.

Twilight and Starlight appeared with a pop, only to plunge immediately into salty water. Starlight squawked, but quickly swam back to the surface, but Twilight wasn't there. With an inventive curse, a bubble of magic sprang around her head and she dived into the darkness after where Twilight likely sank. "You're not allowed to die yet, stupid mare."

Author's Notes:

These are tense times. Heroes are being made, and lost, sometimes within moments of each other.

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