Starlight wove her hooves through the air, following patterns she only half-remembered. "C'mon..." Her horn flared even brighter than it had already been with the effort of carrying Twilight and herself aloft, a pulse of magic seeping out in all directions in a geat magic ping.

Pong. She felt an echo. A faint little return signal. "Yes, please!" She rushed desperately, her horn and the rest of her head aching from the constant effort. "We're almost there. Twilight, just a little longer." There it was, a little dot in the endless water, a ship.

It was a great metal ship. Human-made? It didn't really matter. She swooped down at it as quickly as she could. "Injured pony! Injured pony!" she screamed as she came in. She planned for a gentle landing, but struck the deck hard enough for her vision to swim, sliding to a halt. Twilight limply rolled off of her.

Starlight could hear people rushing around, talking about her, about Twilight, but she was too tired to make much sense of it. She needed a nap, and her body refused her request to postpone it.

The weasel had his helmet off, his ears ringing, blood in his mouth. Everything hurt and he was happy to share his annoyance with the others, though they were ignoring him. "It keeps you alive, but you'll wish it hadn't," he groaned, but was clearly well enough to walk with them. "Were any of you hit?"

The fox hiked a thumb back in the direction they had come from. "A few others had, before they were finished off, hurts I hear. Try not to get shot. You should put your he--"

He didn't get to finish. The weasel collapsed, a new hole decorating his uncovered head.

"Get down!" yelped the vulpine, already diving. His motion carried him free of the bullet that had been destined for him, but others were not as fortunate.

A goat caught one across the chin and his head turned with the impact. The armor kept it from piercing, but like a terrific punch, he half-twirled in place. It would have been better if he had continued spinning, as his head bent too far. Something snapped, and he collapsed to the ground.

A bear caught several shots across the great target of his chest, but he roared rather than falling, turning to face the target. He was raising his rifle into position, ignoring the incoming fire.

He did not ignore the grenade that detonated just a few feet away from him. Great shreds of shrapnel tore at the suit, too large and jagged for the suit to handle. Painful gashes opened in his skin and he fell to a knee, stunned by the blast.

It was all they had left, but Hoku and his friends were putting all they had into that last push, forcing even the bear down under a final hail mary of munitions. Naked and without cover, they won through sheer brute force.

It was almost silent compared to just moments before. Nothing was moving.

A small white flag waved from around the corner, the fox's hand holding one end of it just barely in sight. "Please don't shoot! I give up!"

Part of Hoku wanted to take off that Fox's hand. One really good shot would do it... But... There were rules to being a soldier. "Throw down weapons. Far away, where we see!" he shouted across the distance. "Do now!"

A minotaur rifle flew out, bouncing against the torn terrain. A smaller pistol rolled out with it just a moment later. "I have a dagger, here!" A dagger flew out, roughly bouncing away from cover. "Promise you won't shoot me!"

Hawkeye, as Hoku had started thinking of him as, sat up, his gun slung over his front. "What's your call, we taking him?"

"Ain't have a choice. He gave up," argued the other, standing up. "No Geneva anymore, but we didn't change the rules."

Hoku nodded firmly. "If switch, we want them take surrender." He scrambled out of the ditch. "Not hurt! Step out. Is over."

"It's over..." The fox timidly stepped forward, shaking. His eyes widened at the sight of the three of them. "There were only three of you!?" He sank to his knees, tears fresh in his eyes. "They weren't joking... Americans are monsters."

Hoku glanced towards the main portion of his infantry, where the battle seemed far from over. Could he meaningfully assist there, with a handful of bullets left between the lot of them... "You prisoner. Prisoner have rights. Be good, we be good." He rushed up and kicked the enemy weapons away lest the fox be tempted.

Hawkeye kept a gun directed at the fox, patiently waiting. That left the other to help the fox up to his feet. "We don't eat fox, if that helps."

The fox laughed at that, a bark of a sound. "Oh, good, good good, sure..." He swallowed heavily, his adam's apple jumping. "So... come here often?"

Hoku snorted at that. "Not usually. We wait. We survive." He directed his small unit of three plus one prisoner back to cover to await the next opportunity. The fox was tied up with light nylon rope around the wrists, pinning his arms behind his back. At Hoku's urgings, his fingers were bound a bit curiously, but it kept his fingers from applying sharp claws to the rope and possibly making a break for it.

Otters had sharp claws of their own that could get through rope, given time. He knew.

They waited, and they survived for the time.

A bull watched a building across the road through binoculars, sweeping his gaze from window to window. A shadow... yes...

He had to pause to cough, blood escaping him, but he shook it off. He had a job to do, and he'd do it right! He quickly found the window once more and zoomed in on it with a twist of the knob.

There he was, the chairman, the commander. There he was...

The spy frowned at what he saw. The commander didn't look on the top of his game. He looked about as crappy as the spy felt.

... Good. Maybe it was a local sickness they had both caught?

The spy grunted, maybe he had caught it by being in a bull disguise for so long? Whatever it was, he'd fight it off... He had a job to do.

He turned the binoculars back at the window, but the commander was gone. "Damn--"

Something with a small narrow end poked him in the back. "--it."

"Hello, 'friend'," snarled another bull. "Birdwatching?"

"Oh yes, the yellow-breasted makeet is--"

The bull guard shoved the spy forward. "Don't give me that! Why are you spying on a government building?!"

The spy raised his hands and slowly turned to face his interrogator. "I was scared."

"Scared?"

"Who wouldn't be?" The spy shrugged softly. "I thought if I could see him, I'd feel better."

The guard's anger seemed to abate a little. "Yes... well... He's fine, and he's busy leading the forces. We'll have this war over with soon."

"Are you sure? That would be wonderful!" gushed the spy with false relief. "Thank you, for all your hard work."

The guard hiked a thumb away from where the commander was. "Yes, yes. We're on the case, now get out of here! I should arrest you on the spot, you know that right?"

"Oh dear, I didn't! I didn't mean to cause tr--" He had to pause, coughing violently, the world spinning a moment. Why was everything so... hot? "Pardon me, all this worry is driving me ill."

The guard took a step back, perhaps not wanting to catch whatever the spy had. "Go home and get some rest. And don't come back! You can see the commander when he gives an address."

"I'll be sure to do that." The spy dipped his head and hurried away while the chance was there.

A hand came down on his shoulder before he got far. "Wait," ordered the guard. "When did you catch that cough you have there?"

Ah dang it... The truth would suffice, he figured. "A few days ago..."

"Where were you?" He was staring at the spy with sharp eyes.

"Where those damn EFC brutes destroyed our capital!" wailed the spy as if personally affronted. "All those buildings, all those people... Please tell me you're punishing them."

"We're working on it." He warded away the spy's desperate clutches, repelled by it, as the spy had hoped. "Get out of here."

"Of course, Sir..." He scurried off, having delivered a faint hint to the enemy without realizing. There was something about the bomb that created sickness, even to those who hadn't been there at the time of the explosion.

He dialed a number with wavering magic. The entire world was becoming numb and confusing. "Press 1." Oh no, he'd already lost track of what number to press to get through. He hung up and dialed the president instead. "White House," answered a cheerful secretary. "How can I direct your call?"

"President, please..." The changeling let the phone fall, it was taking too much effort. "Urgent..."

"Does he know you?"

"Pharynx's agent..."

The line went cold, but hadn't hung up. He reached a shaking colorful hoof for the glass of water, but only knocked it over, getting none of it in his mouth. "Damn..."

"President Rason," came a sudden stern voice.

"President," he croaked out. "I... don't feel good. Good news, neither does Commander Force."

"Thank you for telling me that, but abort your mission. Abort it, damn it."

"I can't..."

"Come home. Pharynx is very worried about you."

He forced a little smile at the phone. "Is he? Softie..." He laughed a phlegmy laugh, blood splattering on his chitinous lips. "I can barely move... all my insides keep coming out both ends... I'm... going to die, Sir... Tell Pharynx he's a good guy, okay?"

"Belay that," boomed Rason into his phone. "Get back here! Crawl if you must, we can help you. Tell me where you are if nothing else. I will try to extract you."

"That's sweet... but I'm just a drone, one drone... The hive is more important... You win this war... Win it..."

Rason knew at that moment what Pharynx had meant. Colorful or not, they still held the precious values, beneath all the loud proclamations and stupid speeches Chrysalis had given. They were just drones, working to make the hive better. "Damn it, I'm not accepting that! You are not just a drone, you hear me?!"

"Don't waste--"

"Don't tell me what to spend my resources on. If you're a drone, act it. Now give me your location, now."

The spy peered at the phone with surprise, his wings giving a little buzz. It was like being yelled at by Chrysalis... but there was caring there. With a tired sigh, he slumped, mumbling his address as best he could.

"Wait there. Drink plenty of water. If they offer seaweed, milk, fish or prunes, eat up. Don't even dream of your mission right now. We're on the way." The line went dead.

He wasn't sure why the leader of the humans cared so much about him.

It was kind of nice... He rolled up slowly even as his muscles kept insisting laying down was a much easier thing to do. "Water..." He would try to stay alive long enough to thank them for caring.

Author's Notes:

That scene ended with less than 100 words to go, starting another felt... off, so here we are.

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