“‘Marginally habitable’,” Slipshod snorted derisively, “there’s nothing ‘marginal’ about this place. It’s a damn tartarus-scape,” the earth pony stallion noted as their trio of ‘Steeds strode across the basalt flats between a pair of volcanoes that looked a little too active for his liking.

The operation, thus far, had gone off without a hitch. All indications were that their insertion into the system via a ‘pirate jump point’ had gone largely unnoticed by the Commonwealth listening posts. That probably wouldn’t have been the case in a truly developed system, where the coverage would have been considerably more extensive, but PEA-02-UX was a recently established forward support base, and thus had little in the way of orbital surveillance. What there was would have been focused on the zenith and nadir of the system’s primary star, which were the two typical points of entry for a jump ship.

The two small DropShips―both that of the Steel Coursers, and Captain Peregrine’s―had managed to evade the plotted planetary surveillance network as well, utilizing the exceptionally well-mapped satellite constellation around the planet.

Slipshod found himself idly wondering if anypony on either ship found it the least bit bizarre that the Pony Commonwealth seemed to have such a massive security leak that all of this information had paltry little trouble finding its way into the talons of their employer. The earth pony felt like he’d have certainly been questioning the plausibility of having gotten such extensive information on a military target like this.

Then again, he supposed that these sorts of intelligence windfalls were hardly rare. Any time Chrysalis’ agents uncovered this exact kind of operation―which wasn’t difficult, as those same agents were typically in positions where it was part of their job to plan these operations―exactly these sorts of treasure troves of information were passed along to the relevant party so that they could put a stop to it. A suitable ‘security leak’ was then fabricated out of a convenient patsy, said patsy was ‘dealt with’ by the outraged leadership, and everypony moved on to plotting their next move; inexplicably hoping that it would all go according to plan ‘next time’.

Rinse; repeat.

So, the earth pony supposed, when it was actually fairly typical to receive this kind of detailed information about planned clandestine military incursions, then it made a certain amount of sense that nopony questioned how so much intelligence had been allowed to leak to the enemy. Apparently without the perpetrator of the operation even being aware that so much of what they were doing had leaked!

Every satellite was exactly where it was supposed to be. Nothing had been moved to compensate for the calculated holes which had been plotted by Combine Intelligence―Slipshod idly wondered if the ponies who’d set up the net for the Combine hadn’t specifically created those holes to be used for this very purpose…

The more he thought about it, the more the earth pony came to conclude that the reason that all of this seemed to frustrate him so much was because he knew that it was all a farce. The fighting, the scheming, the plotting, all of it. He knew that it was all fabricated behind the scenes by Chrysalis and her operatives. To everypony else though, it appeared to be wholly organic. Politicians and military leaders were just going about their day making the decisions that they thought would best advantage their star nations. That was what it looked like to the common creature.

None suspected for a moment that many of those politicians and military leaders in opposing factions were actively working together to orchestrate these sorts of confrontations. No creature thought that, because no creature could possibly conceive of a reason why that would be the case. What good could such a thing possibly accomplish for anypony? It certainly wasn’t benefiting any specific group. Prominent Houses rose and fell on a nearly monthly basis somewhere in the galaxy, so it wasn’t like there was a cabal of the ‘ruling class’ working behind the scenes to retain power.

At least, not that anycreature could see. After all, Queen Twilight Sparkle didn’t have any ‘power’. She certainly never took any public stances on the fighting or voiced any support for a specific faction. So if any were so conspiracy-minded as to want to look for malicious interests influencing galactic politics, they certainly weren’t inclined to consider such things from her perspective.

So, here he was, galloping across a planet on his way to begin the first phase of an operation that would stop the Pony Commonwealth from launching a surprise invasion of the Hippogriff Combine and risk altering the precarious balance of power that Chrysalis was intent on preserving in order to keep the nations of the Harmony Sphere fighting amongst themselves. An operation that had been specifically engineered to succeed through the combined efforts of a carefully mismanaged setup by the Commonwealth units on this planet, and the well-informed forces that were about to assault them.

It was like playing a game of chess against yourself.

All that Slipshod had to do was find a way to specifically not fuck this all up and snatch defeat from the jaws of all-but-assured-victory.

Though, admittedly, the stallion was finding it a little hard to take this mission seriously, knowing that it was supposed to be effectively impossible for them to lose this fight. After all, if the Aris Highlander forces lost, then the Commonwealth would be able to launch their attack on the Combine and start a genuine war.

Chrysalis wasn’t going to allow that to happen. She couldn’t afford to.

That meant that no chances had been taken with this operation, and far more forces than were necessary had been committed to ensure its success.

Which honestly said some things about the quality of the Commonwealth’s leadership that weren’t actually Chrysalis’ drone operatives that they’d seen nothing wrong with setting up a forward staging area which could be crippled by two lances of ‘Steeds without much issue.

“In fairness,” Valkyrie’s voice replied over the radio, “the whole planet isn’t like this. The Commonwealth specifically chose to set up their base here so that the ash clouds would conceal their facilities from passive orbital scans.”

The earth pony rolled his eyes, finding himself having to keep from audibly expressing his exasperation at the idea that so much effort had been gone through to keep information a secret that was just going to be fed to the enemy anyway. He wondered if there was a drone somewhere in the Commonwealth who was having trouble keeping a straight face as they meticulously went through planning all the ways to keep an operation like this a secret, while simultaneously sending a detailed list of everything they were doing to their counterpart in the Combine.

For his part, the stallion thought back to their planning meeting about this operation, and the layout that they’d seen of the base’s facilities, “fat lot of good it did them,” he murmured off-mic before keying his comm, “isn’t the rest of the planet an ice ball or something?”

“I mean...yeah,” the pegasus mare conceded.

“The atmosphere is too thin to retain sufficient heat,” another mare’s voice chimed in. It was Twilight, “that’s usually the last step in the terraforming process once all the toxic gasses are removed and sufficient oxygen is added to be able to breath.

“With enough additional thickening agents like nitrogen and argon, this world would warm up and become perfectly suitable for colonization. Another planet that could be cultivated for food production,” there was a resigned note in her voice as the alicorn managed to remind herself of one of the ostensible justifications for the ongoing fighting in the galaxy: food and resources.

That was the rhetoric fed to the public, of course. It was a better motivator for long-term hostility than simple ideological differences. Ideologies could shift and morph over time. Hunger was eternal.

Not that resource scarcity wasn’t a genuine issue, of course. It was. However, Slipshod knew that a lot of that would be mitigated if the wide-scale destruction caused by all the fighting stopped for a decade or so and the land and agricultural infrastructure was allowed to recover. Of course, creatures were hungry now, so few were willing to entertain long-term solutions when short-term ones could garner sufficient public support. Plus, there were plenty of ‘experts’ in Chrysalis’ pocket who weren’t shy about crafting reports and studies that decried the theory that the devastation of perpetual fighting contributed significantly to existing scarcity issues.

Officially, it was all just an inevitable numbers game. Too many creatures existed to be supported by available production. For some to have, then some would have to do without. That was just how the math worked. No malice. No malevolence. Just...survival.

Anycreature was hard-pressed to come up with better excuse for fighting than that.

“First target’s five klicks out,” Val informed them.

Slipshod turned his thoughts back to the task at hoof. Served up to them on a silver platter or not, this mission would still carry risk, because the Commonwealth forces on this planet certainly hadn’t been told that they were supposed to lose.

“Acknowledged,” the stallion replied over the radio, “Val, you and I will screen any forces present at the site. Twilight, focus on taking out the transmission towers and the sensor array,” those two structures wouldn’t be occupied, so there was minimal risk that she’d kill anypony.

“Understood,” the alicorn responded evenly.

Valkyrie’s Parasprite picked up speed and began to pull away from their formation, getting out further in front of them. Her ‘Steed’s sensors would allow for Twilight’s missiles to lock onto and take out their objectives from as far out as possible. Which would minimize the chances that any distress calls would get out before they lost the capability to make any.

Slipshod’s HUD illuminated with a crimson blip, “perimeter defense turret,” he snapped in warning, “they know we’re coming,” he teased his ‘Steed around, bringing his prismatic projection cannon to bear and fired off a shot. The helix of destructive chromatic light effectively vaporized the automated weapons platform.

“I have sensor contacts at the outpost,” their point mare announced, “isolating the primary targets...annnnnd...marked!”

The stallion’s display lit up with additional markers as Valkyrie shared her targeting data with her comrades. Two seconds after they appeared, a storm of missiles arced overhead. A second identical stream of exhaust trails followed close behind those as Twilight fired off a barrage from her second launcher. In the distance, missiles poured down upon the base’s transmitter tower, crumpling the steel truss almost instantly. The sensor array went down in a slightly more spectacular fashion as the alicorn’s LRMs shredded the dish with a succession of impacts until the whole construction inevitably collapsed into a heap of scrap.

Slipshod keyed in his radio, using the frequency that allowed them to contact their nominal partners for this operation, “Gallop One to Raptor Lead; Target Apple is down.”

“Understood, Gallop,” came Captain Peregrine’s gruff reply, “Target Bronco is down too. We’re already moving onto Canter. You take Diamond Dog.”

“Wilco,” the earth pony swapped back over to the lance channel, “set heading for Nav Delta―” the words were no sooner out of his mouth than he noticed that his map was populating with a host of scarlet contacts, “shit! Multiple contacts in the outpost. Break and engage!”

Fortunately, nothing immediately registered as a ‘Steed at the moment. It looked like it was just the base’s organic vehicle garrison, along with a half dozen or so turrets. The latter wouldn’t prove much of any issue as long as they kept far enough away, and they no longer had any reason to close with the outpost now that the installations which they were concerned with were gone; but they’d want to eliminate those combat vehicles.

Slipshod selected his ‘Steeds dual heavy pulse weapons and dropped the targeting reticle over the nearest vehicle―a Pegasus Hover Tank―which had raced out ahead of its cohorts. Presumably in an effort to strike a quick blow with its SRMs and scoot on by and out of range again before any of us could respond. Unfortunately for the crew of that vehicle, the earth pony was far too accurate, and the weapons on his ‘Steed far outranged theirs.

Pulses of brilliant indigo light hammered the speedy hovercraft. Centimeters of armor plating evaporated with each successive blast of energy until the weapons inevitably punched through to the vehicle’s interior. The crew was vaporized by a single pulse. The one after that effortlessly sliced through the paneling leading to the engine compartment. Subsequent pulses sailed through the expanding cloud of debris that the hover tank had become until the firing sequence was finally completed.

A cerulean and yellow streak with rainbow highlights lurched ahead of him, charging at the distant vehicles. Slipshod blinked in surprise before growling in annoyance at the alicorn. He empathized with her desire to minimize casualties, but he still found those efforts frustrating when it meant that she was obscuring his own shots. He watched the barrel of the autocannon mounted in her chest belch out a shell, striking the ground just below another hover tank with a precision that the earth pony might have considered reckless. Even the slightest misstep given the speeds and distances involved had as much chance of demolishing the vehicle as accomplishing her goal: which appeared to be to use the detonation to send the hovercraft vaulting tail over nose into the air and crashing to the ground on its side.

The craft was certainly out of action now, though Slipshod was dubious as to how intact the crew was after something like that. Hopefully none of the occupants had seen fit to leave their harnesses unfastened in their haste to respond to the Steel Coursers’ assault on their base.

A muzzle flash in the distance announced the presence of a scorpion tank. The resounding ‘ping!’ the earth pony heard through his cockpit, accompanied by the indicator flash on his console, informed him of their target. Twilight was free to take all the risks that she wanted in her effort to spare the lives of the crews trying to actively kill them.

Slipshod wasn’t inclined to be quite that merciful. He hopped his ‘Steed to the side to clear the alicorn’s Rainbow Dash from his line of fire and sent a blast from his recharged PPC at the offending tank. It promptly detonated. Twilight snapped something at him over the radio, but he wasn’t paying attention to her protests as he sought out the next threat. The ponies in those vehicles had understood the risks of facing down ‘Steeds when they’d left their base’s perimeter. They’d chosen this fool’s errand. Saving them from their own stupidity wasn’t his job.

Defending himself and his lancemates, and completing their employer’s mission was.

He selected the next target.

“Target is moving on to their next objective,” the mare’s gravelly voice announced through the headset.

The only source of light in the dim cockpit was the navigation map and the trio of slowly moving crimson blips upon it. Everything else was powered down so as to ensure that the Sombra assault-class BattleSteed didn’t show up on their target’s sensor systems until it was too late. The three Pharynx heavy ‘Steeds at his flank were in a similar low-power state. All four were being fed information on their quarry by the Swift Wind parked at the edge of the caldera.

A smile tugged at the equine’s chitinous lips as his eyes tracked the movement of the three crimson blips. They were following the path traced out for them―provided ever so graciously by their Combine employers―almost perfectly. To deviate from it was to risk setting off the sensor net that they had been told existed in the area after all.

While that network of detection towers did exist, it was entirely unpowered at the moment. “For maintenance”, was the official reason given. Their targets didn’t know that, of course. That detail had been omitted from the intelligence packet delivered to the Combine.

Another bit of information that had been left out of the briefing was that the radio tower at the 5th Donogal’s firebase in the area would also be offline today―for a routine firmware update. Even if the Highlanders’ raid on these outposts went awry, there wouldn’t have been any Commonwealth forces that would hear the distress calls. At least, none that could respond in time to do anything about the attacks. Though, the tower being inoperative had not been for the benefit of the Steel Coursers. Not entirely.

In reality, it’s suppression had been so that his lance could move in and level the firebase without word getting out. Their mission was of far too critical importance to risk having it be spoiled by the intrusion of Commonwealth ‘Steeds.

The pilot of the assault ‘Steed reached out and toggled their radio, “all units: power up on my mark. Focus fire on Bogeys Two and Three. Aim for the cockpits. Target limbs on Bogey Prime only,” he stressed.

“Her Majesty wants that one alive…”

“You didn’t have to kill them.”

Slipshod let out a frustrated sigh. He’d desperately hoped that this was going to be a conversation that could have waited until they were back on the DropShip, where he’d have had the option of locking himself in his room and turning up some music to drown the alicorn out. Apparently Twilight had considered that course of action, and so was choosing to berate him now so that he couldn’t ignore her.

Clever mare.

Though that didn’t mean that he was going to be any more amenable to this conversation, “they didn’t have to fight us,” he quipped, “if somepony attacks me, I’m going to defend myself, Princess. That’s just how it’s going to be, and I’m not going to apologize for that.”

“They didn’t stand a chance―” she protested.

“All the more reason they should have stayed at the base!” Slipshod snapped at the mare. He refused to be made to feel guilty for killing ponies who made the conscious decision to fire on him. It was enough, as far as he was concerned, that he didn’t take the initiative to cause any more property damage than the contract called for. While the mission objectives specified the destruction of the communication and detection capability of their assigned targets, there would certainly have been no issue raised if the Steel Coursers stomped every single structure flat before leaving.

Besides, the ultimate fate of every Commonwealth pony on this planet was to be either killed or captured by the Highlander invasion that was due to jump into the system in just a few hours. How many were among the latter group would depend entirely on how much brig space existed on the DropShips. Which Slipshod was honestly willing to bet amounted to: ‘not a lot’.

He idly debated whether it was worth letting the princess in on the fact that every pony she was ‘sparing’ right now was more than likely going to die during the imminent invasion anyway. Arguably, it would be more merciful to kill them quickly now, rather than risk their deaths being through hypoxia and asphyxiation when their barracks’ were cracked open by Highlander weapons. That sort of death was slow, agonizing, and terrifying. Being vaporized by pulse lasers was at least mercifully instantaneous.

Really, when he took the time to think about it, he was the ‘kind’ one here. Twilight was the monster for choosing to subject the Commonwealth ponies to that kind of fate.

The stallion suspected that such a revelation wouldn’t exactly go over well if he pointed it out to her.

“Gallop One, I’ve got...something...” Valkyrie interrupted.

Slipshod spared a moment to silently thank the pegasus for the conversational diversion before allowing himself to feel mildly annoyed for a different reason, “that’s what I like most about you, Val: your exemplary field reporting…”

“It’s hard to identify!” the mare retorted acidly, “I almost didn’t pick it up at all. I think I’m just catching refractions. There’s a lot of crap in the atmosphere bouncing signals around. I’m trying to narrow down a source.”

The stallion narrowed his gaze and scrutinized his map display, “I’m not seeing anything on sensors, and we’re too far away from the next objective to be picking them up,” not that their next target should be having much call to be sending out transmission in the first place, “you sure it’s not our own stuff coming back at us?”

“It’s a completely different frequency,” the mare said, sounding mildly distracted by her own efforts to ferret out an explanation, “and I think it’s encrypted too. It’s hopping around a lot.”

Now he was concerned. Encrypted radio chatter from an unknown source? If that wasn’t a ‘red flag’, the earth pony didn’t know what was. He chewed his lip idly in thought, very briefly mulling over instructing their lance to divert their course. Had he not known what he did about Chrysalis’ desire for this base to ultimately be destroyed, he probably would have. However, knowing that pieces were being deliberately maneuvered to guarantee the success of this operation made him hesitant.

For all he knew, this chatter was from operatives on the ground actively working to sabotage the Commonwealth forces, and the best thing for the three of them to do was stick to the plan as it had been given to them. Otherwise they risked actually fucking things up.

“Keep an eye on it,” Slipshod finally said, “but continue with the plan.”

“Lieutenant Valkyrie,” the stallion wondered if the mare’s official rank sounded as odd to her as it did to him as the alicorn intruded back into the conversation, “would you mind sharing those readings with me?”

“Sure; here’s what I’ve got,” a pause, “also, ‘Val’’s fine, by the way.”

Apparently it did. Wait; why didn’t Twilight ever call him ‘captain’?

His musings were abruptly cut off by the alicorn’s next transmission. It was odd hearing the usually reserved mare sound panicked from inside her ‘Steed, “these transmissions are using CLDF encryption protocols!” she blurted out, not bothering to hide her astonishment.

“CLDF?” Valkyrie said in mild disbelief, “who even has those codes anymore?”

“Perhaps they’re elements of the Ninth Force Recon?” theorized a hopeful Twilight, “could they have agents nearby?”

Slipshod wasn’t paying much attention to the pair at the moment. He knew perfectly well what group would be using that defunct encryption standard, and it wasn’t the Disciples of Discord. His unease rose slightly, but he still refrained from commenting on it. He’d already mused that those errant transmissions had been chatter between changeling operatives on the planet working to actively help with the Highlander raid. Knowing that the signals were using the security protocols that Chrysalis had co-opted from the Celestia League centuries ago only further confirmed it.

Though, he didn’t need the princess insisting that they deviate from the mission to check to see if the source was her potential saviors. They needed to stick to the plan, which meant that he needed Valkyrie to confirm the origin of those signals were parts of their target. How exactly he was going to explain Commonwealth military units using CLDF encryption algorithms, he didn’t know yet, “Val, could you track an origin if Twilight gives you the protocols?”

“Sure thing. Princess?”

“Transmitting...there you go.”

“Awesome,” the pegasus said, “now we just use a little grade school trig to triangulate the orig―wait; what?”

Slipshod frowned, “is something wrong?”

“Maybe?” the mare sounded unsure, which made the earth pony nervous, “the transmissions are coming from the caldera to our right.”

“You’re sure?” the stallion studied his map. No Commonwealth installations were noted to be near there. A firebase which housed a lance of ‘Steeds was on the other side, but the volcano obscured any radar that their base might have, and no transmissions had reached them. The Commonwealth forces there wouldn’t have been using CLDF encryption anyway. It had to be changelings, but what reason could they possibly have for being in the crater?

“Oh shit,” the mare piped up, “I’m also getting active radar emissions from that direction! Somepony’s tracking us!”

Now he was concerned, “you’re sure they’re tracking us?”

“It’s low-power, narrow-band, and uni-directional,” the mare informed him tersely, “which makes it nearly impossible to detect unless you look for it―which I just did―and only useful for keeping an eye on a small area. Basically only used by scouts to track specific targets at long range. There’s either a recon ‘Steed or a Swift Wind near that crater.”

Somepony was tracking them? Or rather, Chrysalis’ agents were tracking them, he corrected? Why? While he knew that it was important to the Queen that this base be destroyed, he very much doubted that an observation team would have been dispatched here specifically to foalsit the Highlander ‘Steeds on the ground the whole time. Even if the operation was only marginally successful, Slipshod was confident that Chrysalis’ Commonwealth agents could persuade the Archon to rethink the plan and pull his forces back. This level of hoof-holding was simply uncalled for.

They weren’t here to help with the operation. They couldn’t be.

But...they couldn’t be here to keep an eye on them...could they? What exactly made the Steel Coursers so important that Queen Chrys―

“Oh...fuck!” Slipshod wasn’t positive if that part had been transmitted over the radio, but he made certain that the second part was, “Abort! Val, Twi: turn back, now!” he was already heaving his galloping ‘Steed hard to the left even as he issued the order. He’d have to come up with some sort of excuse later for why he was scrubbing a mission that was ostensibly going perfectly fine, anomalous radio chatter aside. Squelch wasn’t going to like it, and he had no idea how he was going to excuse it to her, but he knew that the three of them needed to be anywhere else.

Now.

“Abort?! What are you talking about, ‘abort’?” the pegasus mare demanded indignantly, “why―? Power ups! Multiple reactor power-ups!” Valkyrie’s tone rapidly became almost as panicked as the stallion’s had been. He saw the quartet of crimson blips flashing on his navigational map, “four contacts,” she continued, giving her report almost by instinct as her experience took over and spurred her into action, “three heavies and an assault by reactor output. Computer doesn't recognize the profiles.”

Well, that was concerning, the stallion grimaced. Their internal databases contained profiles for just about every ‘Steed ever manufactured and fielded in the last five hundred years. Even extinct designs like Twilight’s Rainbow Dash were stored; in case such obscure designs suddenly ceased to be extinct. That way, the targeting systems could provide reliable information about what a pilot was shooting at.

Slipshod did know, however, that there was a small list of ‘Steed designs which were not stored on any computer in the Sphere: those which had been independently designed and built by Queen Chrysalis’ changelings on Equus. Those ‘Steeds very rarely left the Faust System, in order to keep the existence of such designs a secret. They were only ever deployed on very special missions.

The stallion suspected that ‘capture the real Princess Twilight Sparkle’ was exactly the sort of mission that such a lance of ‘Steeds would be sent out on.

These ‘Steeds wouldn’t be push-overs either, he knew. Unlike the rest of the galaxy, the Faust System’s manufacturing and technology base was pristine. What was considered ‘losmagitech’ to the rest of the Harmony Sphere was just ‘tech’ for the changelings. Which meant that all four of those ‘Steeds were going to be at least as capable as his and Twilight’s; and that Val’s Parasprite might as well not even be a factor in this fight.

Two-to-one tonnage and number disadvantage. Not a fight that Slipshod relished. The stallion had to fight hard against calling in a Condition Black to the Galloway. Valkyrie’s computers might not be providing her with a profile ID, but he could tell what they were going up against. That Sombra assault ‘Steed had a pair of gauss cannons, and each of the heavy-weight Pharynxes had a PPC. Those weapons would shred a Mustang-class DropShip in just a couple of volleys. Squelch and the rest of the crew wouldn’t live long enough to come to a hover, let alone actually retrieve them.

No reason everypony had to die…

Could he surrender, maybe? If he turned over Twilight and revealed to them that he was a changeling, there was a chance that they’d let him live. Not a big one, sure; but a chance.

They wouldn’t let Valkyrie live though. Not their ‘Steeds either. The sensor data they’d collected couldn’t be allowed off this planet. Slipshod could plausibly explain Twilight and Val’s deaths, as well as the loss of all three ‘Steeds to Squelch.

That would be the end of the Steel Coursers though. The company didn’t have the finances to buy even a single ‘Steed, let alone replace three. The unicorn mare would cut her losses, fold the company, take a job with another outfit in their accounting department or something. He’d...be left on his own again.

Back right where he’d been two years ago. Would he get lucky a second time and just fall into a good outfit?

He certainly wasn’t ever going to come across a second long-lost alicorn princess that gave him at least a tenuous shot at getting revenge on Chrysalis for all that she’d done to him. Which meant he’d be back to impotent pipe dreams again.

Was he ready to be set back like that? After managing to actually get a chance at revenge? Was he really going to give that all up?

Slipshod’s hooves tightened their grip around his control yokes as he glared at the quartet of blips. She’d already stolen everything from him once. He wasn’t going to let Chrysalis do it again.

The stallion closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then heaved the Crystal Cavalier around in a tight skid. His hoof tapped furiously at the console before transmitting to the other two ‘Steeds in his lance, “focus fire on the assault’s left barrel!” he barked over his mic, “one meter down and two meters back from the shoulder joint!

“Twilight, get airborne and hit the heavies on their backs! Just to the right of the spine, midway down!”

“What?” Valkyrie blurted in shocked consternation, “first you’re screaming for us to abort and now you’re telling us to fight?! Will you make up your damn mind!”

“Shut up and move your flank, Val!” Slipshod shouted as he drove hard at the Sombra, “stay away from the Pharynxes and hit the Sombra exactly where I told you to. Your medium cannons aren’t going to do any damage worth a damn anywhere else!”

“That’s another thing: how do you know what these things are or where to hit them?”

“I’ll tell you later,” the stallion said grimly, not particularly looking forward to doing so. Though, it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t have to make good on that promise.

Knowing the weak points of these particular designs hardly guaranteed them victory. These were very formidable designs, and were equipped with technology that eclipsed most of what was available to the common inhabitant of the Harmony Sphere. Their pilots wouldn’t be slouches either.

There was every possibility that they’d lose this fight. These changelings wouldn’t have launched this attack if they’d thought there was anything remotely like an even chance that they could lose, after all. This was an ambush, designed to capture Twilight. It had been planned around the operation that the Steel Coursers were a part of. Very likely, their deaths would be blamed on a Commonwealth Quick Reaction Force response being more timely than anticipated. Captain Peregrine's lance would finish off the targets the Coursers didn’t make it to, and the operation would continue as normal.

Nopony would be the wiser, and Squelch would have to accept that her mercenary company was effectively wiped out under perfectly acceptable and not-at-all-unusual circumstances.

Assuming that there wasn’t also some sort of ‘accident’ awaiting the Galloway before they made port in another system. Leaving nopony alive that could report on the existence of another alicorn.

Chrysalis would keep her secrets, and capture the ruler she’d replaced so long ago. Without the galaxy knowling that anything out of the ordinary had transpired.

That was what would happen if they lost this fight. That was what these changelings intended to have happen. It was part of their plan.

However, what wasn’t a detail that they could have factored in, was that one of the ‘Steeds they were currently ambushing knew just as much about the design and production of their ‘Steeds as they did. To include certain vulnerabilities and shortcomings that were unavoidable in any design.

Like the fact that the Sombra’s dual gauss cannons required an oversized capacitor in order to sustain a charge. The placement of which had shifted the reactor’s position to the left of the ‘Steed’s center. The engineers had done all they could to ensure as much reinforcement as possible was in place to protect the vital component, but other physical realities had meant that certain limitations existed: such as the need to place the anchor points for the myomer muscles of the joints in very specific locations to ensure the limbs moved properly. These anchor points could not be reinforced with additional protection below the ablative plating without hampering range of motion. So, if a shot got through the Sombra’s―admittedly quite thick―armor at the location Slipshod had indicated, it would meet effectively no resistance before it cracked the reactor’s casing and triggered a nearly instant detonation.

All that they had to do was not get killed before managing to do that…

Pulses of emerald light battered Slipshod’s ‘Steed as he charged the onyx mechanical equine. He responded in kind, jabbing at the much heavier assault-class ‘Steed with a barrage of cycling streams from his quartet of medium energy weapons. The damage that those weapons were doing to his target was minimal, but it was keeping the other pilot’s attention focused at least. Slipshod’s Crystal Cavalier would be able to stand up to much more of a pounding than Val’s Parasprite. A single strike from those gauss cannons on just about any part of her light bipedal ‘Steed would spell the end of her tenure as a mercenary pilot.

Not that even his heavy ‘Steed would be able to take many hits either, he soon discovered as twin nickel-iron slugs struck him in the chest, missing his ‘Steed’s head by less than a meter. Alarms sounded and warnings flashed, informing him that the armor plating there had been completely compromised. Another head-on hit would crack his reactor, no question.

The earth pony grimaced as he veered to the right. He teased the control yoke and snapped off a shot with the prismatic projector cannon in the ‘Steed’s side-mounted lance. Not wanting to risk lingering too long near the larger opponent, he turned wider and took an opportune shot with his heavy pulse weapons at one of the Pharynxes which were trying their level-best to swarm Twilight’s Rainbow Dash.

However, the alicorn was doing a fine job of demonstrating what age and experience could make up for where numbers were concerned as she danced her ‘Steed around them.

Maxillae’s eyes widened slightly as his ‘Steed shuddered from the PPC hit. Not because of the damage that it had caused, as that had been mitigated significantly by the thick armor plating. It would take several more shots like that to penetrate it.

However, what was interesting to the changeling stallion was that the pilot of the Crystal Cavalier had chosen there, of all places, to land their blow with their heavier weapon. The other shots hadn’t done much more than blacken his plating. Using the PPC in conjunction with the medium energy weapons would have been much more effective, and an expected tactic from most opponents.

That he’d waited was curious.

That he’d placed the hit on the Sombra’s left side behind the shoulder was concerning.

…

It had to have been a coincidence. No other explanation existed. Still, he’d have to make an effort to be more vigilant about which side he had exposed to the enemy.

He turned to keep his focus on the heavier ‘Steed. What he saw made Maxillae frown. Three-on-one odds should have meant that his lancemates would make short work of the princess’ ‘Steed. It should have. However, the reality appeared to greatly differ, as he watched the cerulean ‘Steed effortlessly slip and slide around the darker foes surrounding it. The few shots that managed to hit the alicorn’s ‘Steed looked to be only glancing blows as well.

With a snarl, he toggled his radio, “what are you fools doing? How hard is it to cripple one ‘Steed?!”

“A lot harder when the only parts of it you authorized us to target have fucking rocket engines attached to them!” came a snapped response from a mare, “meanwhile, she’s hitting us wherever she damn well pleases―” the transmission cut out briefly. The cause was readily apparent as the Rainbow Dash suddenly shot upward, arcing over one of the Pharynxes in a forward flip of all things, pumping successive shots from it’s PPCs into the other ‘Steed’s spine, “fucking bitch!” the mare snarled, “hold still you fucking―!”

The transmission cut off again, but not for any overt reason that Maxillae could see. It was likely nothing more than the pilot realizing that she still had a hot mic, but no longer had anything relevant to say to her lance commander. The stallion watched as the offended ‘Steed wheeled around and fired off a barrage of shots at the fast-moving blue equine.

Those shots were very clearly not being aimed anywhere near the Rainbow Dash’s limbs, and he was about to chastise the other mare for her disobedience to the Queen’s orders when the Pharynx suddenly stopped firing altogether. In fact, it stopped doing...everything. A quick glance at the status read-outs for his lance confirmed that the mare’s ‘Steed had powered down.

He frowned. Overheating a ‘Steed to the point of an emergency shut-down was such a novice mistake that he was loath to believe a member of his team would have made it. The stallion made ready to reprimand the pilot the moment her ‘Steed started back up.

Which, honestly, it should have already started to do by now…

“Swarm Two, get me a status on Swarm Three,” Maxillae instructed, “why isn’t her ‘Steed starting back up?”

“Unknown,” came the response, followed soon by, “I can see her through the cockpit. She’s alive. Cursing up a storm too, by the look of things. Going to try patching her helmet’s transmitter into my comm network. Wait one, Lead...there we go―”

“―iece of fucking shit! Start up, you scrap heap!”

Well, she was clearly unhurt. Thank Her Majesty for small favors, “report, Swarm Three,” he cut in through her tirade, not having the time to waste waiting for her to finish berating her inoperable ‘Steed. In the meanwhile, he resumed firing on the far-less-maneuverable Crystal Cavalier. The pilot of which was making a valiant effort not to let him get off another hit on their chest with his Sombra’s gauss cannons. A pity.

The mare broke off her cursing. Mostly, “my worthless cheapest-fucking-bidder reactor won’t cool! The temp’s still at ten-thou and won’t come back down again,” she groused, “I don’t get it; cooling system’s running, but nothing’s happening!”

Maxillae cursed under his own breath now―off mic. They didn’t have time to troubleshoot this kind of issue during a fight. Down a ‘Steed already and they hadn’t managed to accomplish any part of their objective in this fight. No help for it at the moment though, “understood. Report any change in your situation. Two? Get back after the princess.”

“Understood, Lead.”

In the meantime, he would best serve his lance by eliminating the other two targets so that he could help capture the alicorn. The stallion lined up his targeting reticle on the Cavalier and fired.

Slipshod reeled as his ‘Steed was rocked by the hit. More alarms sounded. More notifications that a facing had lost all effective armor protection. So much for his Cavalier’s left barrel. At least Twilight had managed to take one of the Pharynxes out of the fight. Hopefully she’d even be able to appreciate that he’d given her a way to do it without killing the pilot.

The earth pony idly wondered if, when the report of this confrontation finally reached Canterlot, the Queen would call in a second team of engineers and task them with revising the design―after letting them witness the execution of the first team she called in for not having already addressed a known exploitable flaw in the heavy ‘Steeds. Not that there was much that could be done about it anyway. It wasn’t like engineers liked designing in vulnerabilities. Whenever such things existed, it was because there was simply no choice.

In the case of the Pharynx, it was a matter of mitigating a potentially catastrophic design flaw by replacing it with a―theoretically―less severe one. BattleSteed coolant reservoirs were subjected to extreme pressures. It was necessary so that the fluid could perfuse throughout the entire radiator system of such massive machines. A direct hit from weapons fire on such a reservoir produced an explosion not so very unlike a magazine detonation. As such, they tended to be sequestered as deep inside a ‘Steed as possible, not unlike volatile ammunition and the reactor itself.

Space considerations of the heavy ‘Steed had meant that the designers couldn’t quite fit the reservoir and the coolant pumping system right next to each other and still keep them properly protected. So, the options left to the designers had been to either leave the reservoir exposed to enemy fire―and the risk of an internal detonation as the result of a lucky hit from the enemy―or to separate the two components and connect them through additional pressurized lines.

They’d chosen the latter option, and run those lines along what should have been the least vulnerable part of any BattleSteed: the spine. Attacks from above happened, yes, but not even experienced pilots or ‘Steed engineers considered them “common”. The dorsal facings of ‘Steeds were the first places that any mechanic went to when looking for places to strip armor to free up tonnage for the installation of additional weapons, ammunition, or other systems, simply because it was extremely rare for an enemy to score hits there.

Strictly speaking, the actual damage that Twilight had done to the ‘Steed was minimal. It would take a reasonably competent repair team less than six hours to replace the severed pressure lines and refill the reservoir. Slap on new plating, and the Pharynx would be as good as new. They wouldn’t even need to send a recovery team to fetch it, as the reactor would manage to self-radiate enough excess heat to start up again in about an hour. It would behoove the pilot to keep the ‘Steed’s speed down to a gentle trot until the damage was repaired―firing any energy-based weapons was right out―but it would certainly be able to return to whatever DropShip was waiting to retrieve these pilots under its own power―

The head of the heavy BattleSteed exploded.

―or not…

A moment later, Slipshod saw the Rainbow Dash sprinting past the recently decapitated Pharynx that was already collapsing to the ground. Wisps of smoke whipped from the barrel protruding from the cerulean chest. The golden stallion was taken aback for a second by the sight, and suffered for the distraction as his cockpit shook with another hit. He quickly took hold of the controls and resumed his evasive movements.

His jaw set in a firm line. Of course, he thought, Twilight wouldn’t have any compunctions about killing changelings the way she did about any other creature…

He snapped off a twin burst of indigo pulses at the Sombra, shearing off several plates of ablative armor from its right flank. The pilot of the assault ‘Steed had obviously caught on to what he was trying to do and was now being quite coy about showing Slipshod his left side. That wasn’t good. The stallion wasn’t sure that his Crystal Cavalier would last long enough to take down the much heavier opponent the conventional way.

Viridian flashes caught his eye from the far side of the Sombra. The gray ‘Steed seemed to flinch, and then Slipshod saw Valkyrie’s bipedal Parasprite sprint on by, slipping in and out of the Sombra’s field of fire before the enemy pilot appeared to even be aware of what had just struck it.

His eyes snapped up to the cockpit display that provided a readout on his target’s disposition. The armor just behind the Sombra’s left shoulder was at critical levels. A few more good hits should be able to punch through it. With the two of them working together, the assault ‘Steed’s pilot shouldn’t be able to keep from being outflanked.

He slammed his hooves down on the throttle pedals and spurred his ‘Steed forward. Slipshod braced himself for the impact as the gauss slug caught him in the flank. It didn’t completely strip away all of the armor plating from the Cavalier’s hindquarter, which was a welcome sight. The damage that Val’s light ‘Steed would have suffered had he not interposed himself between the Sombra and her Parasprite would have been significantly greater.

“I could swear that we’ve already talked about you playing ‘hero’ where I’m concerned,” the pegasus mare quipped over the comm.

The stallion smirked, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My hoof slipped,” he fired off a round of his own medium magical energy cannons at the assault ‘Steed, raking it’s chest but doing little else besides scouring the metal.

“Uh huh. I guess I should tell Tig you’re getting her new favorite toy beaten up because you’re clumsy?”

“I’d prefer you didn’t,” he replied, though he did cringe slightly as he imagined what the teal kirin’s reaction would likely be when she saw how roughed up the Crystal Cavalier had gotten on its first outing during what was supposed to have been a relatively low-risk outing, “you know, Rigger Brush used to work as a manedresser at her aunt’s salon. I could arrange for her to set aside an hour or two next week for you―”

“Did you just imply that my mane needs work?”

Slipshod blanched, “uh…” there was a right answer here, he was pretty sure of that. He just didn’t quite know what it was.

The Parasprite sprinted past him, slipping around a pair of pulsing emerald blasts from the Sombra that tried to tag her. The recon chassis’ bulbous head pivoted on its squat torso as Valkyrie once more managed to maneuver her much more agile ‘Steed back into a position where she could get a shot on the vulnerable portion that Slipshod had identified. Her own twin beams of destructive energy flashed out, boring into the ablative armor as they depleted their capacitors. Once they were exhausted, the ‘Steed’s head locked forward once more and Valkyrie throttled up to its maximum speed as she made her exit from the engagement zone.

Slipshod ensured that the Sombra’s pilot didn’t get too focused on the smaller target by firing off his prismatic projector cannon. A rainbow helix sprung out of the heavy ‘Steed’s side-mounted lance and stuck the Sombra in the shoulder with enough force to briefly stagger the assault-class mechanical equine. But it was at least enough to send the shot that was fired off at the retreated Parasprite going wide to the left. He followed up the shot with an additional onslaught of his four medium energy weapons, one after the other, in a nearly continuous stream.

The shots were debatably ‘wasted’ on the Sombra’s chest and shoulders, well away from the vulnerability on its barrel, but Slipshod was much more concerned with keeping the assault ‘Steed’s attention focused on his Crystal Cavalier, rather than Val’s recon chassis. His heavy ‘Steed was designed for front line combat, and he had enough plating remaining to take a few more decent hits―theoretically.

The changeling pilot swore as he watched a second Pharynx shut down. The pilot had only just managed to get out a report that his heat management systems appeared to be non-functional after receiving a hit to his ‘Steed’s spine. Maxillae immediately realized what must have happened. He was familiar with the schematics of that design, and knew about the work-arounds that had been done regarding the cooling systems.

However, there was no conceivable way that Princess Twilight could have known about it. The Pharynx was a heavy BattleSteed which had been designed centuries after His Queen had usurped the alicorn’s throne. Twilight had never seen a Pharynx before today.

It was possible that she had simply gotten lucky. Any passable ‘Steed pilot knew that the dorsal plating of a ‘Steed was usually the thinnest, so it wasn’t completely unexpected that she’d take advantage of her Rainbow Dash’s jump capabilities to try and score hits along the spine in a effort to get through to internal systems more quickly. Seeing how well it had appeared to work the first time would understandably have compelled the alicorn to try it again.

On its own, it could have just been a coincidence.

However, the flashing crimson indicator on his left barrel made him reluctant to write it off as one.

Again, most ‘Steed pilots―even the less skilled―knew that ‘best practice’ during a fight was to pick a facing and lean into it when possible. The faster one got to the internals of an opponent, the faster the fight could be ended. In that respect, it only made sense that one of his Sombra’s facings should be receiving the brunt of the enemy’s fire.

But the fact that it had been that facing, gave him pause.

Identifying both vulnerabilities on ‘Steed designs which none of the pilots here should have seen before was not something that he was willing to chalk up to a ‘coincidence’. Somehow, these ponies knew where to hit their ‘Steeds to make them hurt. His lance was down to half strength, and so far they had only managed to seriously damage one of the targets, and the Rainbow Dash was not even close to being crippled.

He tuned his radio, “Swarm Lead to Overlord: Request for emergency extraction,” the words tasted like bile in his mouth. In the back of his mind, he was already dreading the report that he would be forced to file explaining this fiasco. Unfortunately, there was no help for it. They’d been outmaneuvered somehow.

The only rational explanation was that there was a changeling within the Steel Coursers. One that had supplied them with information about the capabilities and weaknesses of Her Majesty’s BattleSteed designs. He’d have to ensure that a search of the agent records was conducted to see what operatives might have been embedded with the Coursers, and what information could have been extracted from them.

An intelligence leak like this was a serious matter―

“Mission status?” came the terse reply from the ship in orbit. The changeling on the other end of the line sounded bored more than anything else. Maxillae grimaced. Hardly an appropriate tone to take when one received a request for an ‘emergency’ extraction. That sort of thing tended to suggest a sense of urgency, he’d have thought.

“Mission failure,” he replied bitterly, “Swarm Three and Four are down. I’ve received significant damage. We are outnumbered, and it is no longer possible to secure the target. We need immediate extraction!”

“Negative, Swarm Lead,” the changeling ‘Steed pilot blanched in shock at the response he received, “recovery is not authorized for this mission without completion of stated objectives.”

Maxillae’s lips set in a grim line. So that was how it was, “Understood. Swarm Lead, out.”

He supposed that, in hindsight, he shouldn’t have been too surprised by the revelation. This was an operation to recover an alicorn, after all. Obviously, getting hold of Twilight Sparkle was a high priority, and of paramount importance to Her Majesty. Maxillae had hoped, however, that the operation taking place on a world outside of the Harmony Sphere meant that some of the usual clandestine provisions surrounding a high-priority operation would be waived.

It seemed that he was mistaken.

There was only one way off this planet for him: with a crippled Rainbow Dash ready to be recovered by the waiting DropShip. Otherwise, all that the vessel in orbit was prepared to do was to recover the remains of their ruined ‘Steeds in order to mitigate the evidence that these designs existed.

He’d certainly have preferred for the DropShip to fly in, use its own substantial weaponry to pound the targets, and then recover whatever was left of the princess. However, that would be noticed by both the Commonwealth and Combine forces in the system. Not nearly enough of the ground radar was incapacitated to hide that sort of activity. To say nothing of the satellite network.

Her Majesty wanted the alicorn princess; but she wasn’t willing to expose ComSpark’s true capabilities to get her. Yet.

What was left of his lance certainly wasn’t going to be able to accomplish the job. That was an unfortunate reality, no matter how he looked at it. He was not going to be able to disable the Rainbow Dash with the resources he had left.

However, that didn’t mean that there weren’t resources elsewhere that couldn’t be brought to bear. He swapped to another frequency, “sound the alarm,” he instructed the crew of the Swift Wind, “let the Commonwealth ponies know what’s happening; and where.”

“Understood.”

The changeling pilot returned his full attention to the fighting now, glaring at the cerulean ‘Steed darting around the field, “let’s see how well you fare against a company or two of the Archon’s finest…”

Slipshod’s cockpit shuddered again. His ‘Steed’s left foreleg wasn’t looking so good. It had lost effectively all of its ablative plating, and the endo-crystalline structure wasn't nearly as up to the task of resisting incoming damage as the armor plating had been. He was also down a pulse laser. Hopefully it just needed a rebuild; because he was not looking forward to listening to Squelch rant about how difficult―and costly―finding a replacement would be.

At least this fight was going pretty good for the three of them overall. Twilight was making good use of her Rainbow Dash’s jump capabilities, and Valkyrie was keeping her little Parasprite mostly out of the more dangerous firing arcs. His was the only ‘Steed that had taken a serious pounding. It was worth noting that the goal of the enemy lance would have been to take Twilight alive, and had prioritized trying to destroy his ‘Steed from the outset over Val’s. Taking that into consideration, Slipshod felt that he was actually doing remarkably well, despite the damage he’d sustained.

After all, he was still alive...

Another rumble as a hit was scored on his ‘Steed.

...so far.

The earth pony banked his Cavalier hard to the left, covering his more heavily damaged limb with his right flank. He and Valkyrie were doing a commendable job of tagging in and out with each other as they slowly chewed away at the Sombra, but the truth was that the ninety-ton assault ‘Steed was very heavily armored and could take a harder pounding than the two of them put together. Twilight was tangling with the final Pharynx, whose pilot seemed to have finally learned what the alicorn had managed to do to its two compatriots, and was doing a frustratingly good job of avoiding becoming her third such victim. Twilight was finding herself having to fight her remaining opponent the old fashioned way: with brute force.

The Rainbow Dash had an intimidating arsenal of weapons for a ‘Steed of its size, this was true, but so did a Pharynx. Few other heavy ‘Steeds of a similar tonnage would have been able to make that same sort of claim, but both designs were designed and built around a technology base that no longer existed for much of the Harmony Sphere. Twilight maintained an advantage in maneuverability, thanks to her ‘Steed’s jump jets, and that would no doubt mean that she’d inevitably come out as the victor; but it was still going to take her time.

She wasn’t going to be able to help them with the Sombra. He and Val would have to take it down themselves.

Slipshod tensed as he saw the assault ‘Steed shift right just as Val’s Parasprite was zipping in to make another pass, “Val, break off!”

Whether a result of his warning, or because the pegasus had seen the same motion that he had, the Parasprite’s course shifted at the last minute, but it wasn’t quite enough to completely avoid the hit. A nickel-iron pellet struck the lighter ‘Steed on the left side of its bulbous torso, shearing away nearly all of the plating. Sparks and smoke billowed from the wound as vital systems gave way beneath the devastating blow.

The ‘Steed staggered, stumbled, but it didn’t fall. Slipshod watched with bated breath as it sprinted back out of the engagement area, “I’m alright! Left cannon’s gone, but everything else looks good,” she insisted.

That had been too close. A meter to the right, and that gauss round would have blown through her cockpit, “go help Twilight; I’ve got this guy,” it was perhaps a bit of a bold claim, he supposed, but he knew that there was no way that he’d be able to convince the mare to stay out of combat for the rest of the fight, despite the hit that she’d just taken. The least that he could do was steer her towards the ‘Steed that wouldn’t be able to take her out with a single hit.

“...roger,” the Parasprite arced towards the Rainbow Dash.

Slipshod breathed a small sigh of relief, though it was overshadowed by the realization that, while Val was no longer fighting the Sombra, he still was. He was also now the only concern that the Sombra’s pilot had. Wonderful.

Not unexpectedly, the larger gray ‘Steed began to turn to confront the earth pony. Slipshod throttled up and got himself moving as fast as he could in an effort to make himself a much harder target. The Sombra’s armor was in much better shape than his overall. The only section that had sustained serious damage was the plating on its left barrel where he and Valkyrie had been focussing their attention. Meanwhile, he had quite a few facings that wouldn’t hold up to another good hit.

With nothing left to divert the other pilot’s attention, Slipshod kewn that he was going to have a difficult time getting another clear shot. In fact, it would probably be impossible. He toyed with the idea of just playing grab-flank with the assault ‘Steed until Twilight and Valkyrie finished off the last Pharynx and could come over and help him. It was certainly an option.

“Gallop One, I don’t know what’s going on down there, but we’re seeing multiple launches from the spaceport,” the Galloway’s comm officer, High Gain, informed him, “the signatures are heading your way. They read as Friendship-class DropShips, One. Three of them.

“The commander wants you out of there now. We’re making our approach. ETA: five minutes.”

The stallion’s gut tied itself into a knot. A Friendship-class Dropship carried a company-sized ‘Steed element. With three of them en route, that meant that up to thirty-six Commonwealth ‘Steeds were on their way to join this fight. He wasn’t sure what the pilots of those ‘Steeds would make of the unknown Pharynx and Sombra designs, but they’d know that those units weren’t Commonwealth BattleSteeds. The orders would likely be to shoot first, and sort through the salvage later.

He momentarily considered what had tipped those forces off to their presence, but he quickly concluded that it had to have been the changelings. It was a move that he’d honestly not thought they’d go with. The Commonwealth pilots didn’t know that the Rainbow Dash was piloted by the real Twilight Sparkle. They wouldn’t be trying to preserve her life, and could very easily end up killing her in the fight. Everything about this operation up to this point had suggested that Chrysalis wanted the alicorn alive.

Then again, Twilight had been assumed to have been dead for a few centuries now. Perhaps the queen was perfectly fine with returning to that notion if this cursory attempt at capturing her failed.

In any case, this new information certainly shortened their timetable considerably.

“Understood, Galloway. We’ll be ready for you,” he reached to cut his comms completely, but then hesitated. He had a unique opportunity, he realized, that he probably wasn’t going to get again any time soon. He punched in a new frequency. One which he’d used only once before, two years ago, “how’d you find out?”

Slipshod fired off another volley of emerald beams, entertaining a brief moment of mirth in the back of his head at the juxtaposition of shooting at the very creature he was attempting to open up a dialogue with. In fairness, he had serious doubts that he’d actually get an answer. He just figured that there was nothing to lose by trying.

Which was why the earth pony was genuinely surprised when he received a response over that very same frequency from an amused-sounding changeling drone, “well, I assume that it wasn’t from you. Fascinating. Though that would explain a few things. It also raises some additional questions.”

Viridian pulses smacked the Crystal Cavalier on it’s right flank. Slipshod responded with significantly heavier sapphire pulses of his own across the Sombra’s right shoulder. Both exchanges did little real damage to their opponent’s ‘Steeds. Fencers tapping their swords together to remind them that a fight was still nominally going on.

“I’ll answer yours if you answer mine,” Slipshod offered, matter-of-factly.

“Nothing in the Sphere happens without Her Majesty knowing about it,” the Sombra’s pilot reminded him haughtily, “ComSpark’s reach is infinite.”

“And yet,” the earth pony stallion said as he loped just out of the path of a gauss round, circling in a wide arc as he jockeyed to get at the assault ‘Steed’s left side again, “you obviously missed a detail this time, didn’t you?”

“Which I will definitely notate in my after-action report,” the other pilot quipped, “this oversight is going to devastate someling’s next performance review…

“Now, I do believe it’s my turn to have a question answered, correct?” the Sombra was trying to turn with Slipshod’s Cavalier, but the much heavier ‘Steed was very slowly losing ground. It would only be a matter of seconds before the earth pony was presented with another opportunity to strike at its left side. Which was good, because they only had minutes before either the Galloway or the Commonwealth arrived.

“Shoot,” the stallion grimaced as the Sombra did just that the moment he uttered the word, “funny.”

“I thought so,” the changeling chuckled, “but I digress. What I’d like to know is what would possess one of us to threaten the great thing we have going for us. What were you offered?”

“I’ll tell you what I wasn’t offered,” Slipshod growled, “a seat at the table. Your ‘great thing’ didn’t get to be my ‘great thing’. So what does it matter to me if it all goes up in smoke?”

There was a pause, then, “ah, I see. Note added to the report: Keep. Better. Tabs. On. Capstone. Drones.”

The golden earth pony’s lip curled back in a sneer. “Capstone Drones”. Drones whose job it was to close out an identity, and nothing else. Drones like he was; given the mission to leave Equus and make port on another world...and then die soon after so that there was a complete paper trail, complete with a corpse.

His eyes flickered to his weapons status indicator.

“You’ll have to forgive us; your types usually die off within the week. Seems a shame,” the other changeling added, sounding genuinely sympathetic, “you’re obviously quite resourceful. You’d have made for an excellent agent,” a pause, “perhaps you still can.”

Slipshod’s ear flicked at that. He shifted his gaze from his weapons to the terrain in front of him, doing a little rough geometry in his head. He was only going to get one shot at this. If he failed, even if he lived, there wasn’t going to be time to try again before the Commonwealth arrived and surrounded them. It was certainly too risky to board the Galloway with the Sombra still active.

But he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t at least a little curious about what the changeling commander had to say next.

“A lot of creatures are going to be listed among the dead when this operation wraps up,” the Sombra pilot continued, “your identity could be added to the list easily enough. We can take you back to Equus. Place you on a new assignment. Something worthy of your obvious adaptability.”

The earth pony briefly stalled to avoid another gauss pellet, then continued on, visually plotting out his route, “noling gets a second assignment. You know that.”

“I’m sure Her Majesty will make an exception for the drone that brings her Princess Twilight Sparkle. I’m offering you a ‘seat at the table’. But it’s an offer with a short suspense time. Specifically until those DropShips arrive.”

He did hesitate. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that. An offer to be set up with a new identity and a new life? One with an organic social support network that would keep him pleasantly topped off on love with a minimum of effort on his part? It was exactly what he’d been promised the first time, before having it denied at the last minute.

It tempted him. It definitely did. All he’d have to do was swing to the left instead of the right. Twilight’s Rainbow Dash had its flanks to him. He’d be able to leg her before she knew what was happening. It’d only be a matter of time after that.

All he had to do was...swing left.

Slipshod throttled forward.

The burst of speed sent him almost completely around the Sombra’s heavily damaged left side, going far too quickly to have a hope of making a turn that allowed him to fire his weapons at the assault ‘Steed. Even if he’d tried to kick out into a skid with his back end, he’d have ended up spinning too far around by the time his Cavalier came to a stop. There’d have been a moment during such a maneuver where his weapons would traverse across the Sombra, yes, but it would have been folly to try to make that kind of shot with any sort of precision.

They were out of time to fight this out any longer. The Commonwealth DropShips were only a couple minutes out, as was the Galloway. They needed this to end now, which meant he could afford to try for a difficult shot that had such a high chance of missing. He needed a solid hit on that weak point. A guaranteed hit.

Which was why he didn’t skid. He jumped. His galloping Cavalier leaped into the air, landing up the wreckage of the seventy-five ton Pharynx laying in a heap in front of him, and bounding off at a near-right angle. The force of the rebound sent the massive gray meta carcass skidding a hundred or so meters across the volcanic wasteland, but it served its purpose perfectly by negating his forward momentum, and diverting his direction of travel directly at the ninety-five ton Sombra assault BattleSteed.

Slipshod hooves kept themselves depressed on the pedals, driving the ‘Steed hard at his target. The other pilot didn’t have time to process the sudden change in direction and react to it before the earth pony collided with him. Metal screamed and plating shattered as two ‘Steeds with a combined weight the better part of two hundred tons made a valiant attempt to become a single entity. The earth pony’s harness strained to keep him restrained as his speed dropped down to zero in less than a second.

He shook his head, pretty sure that Doc Dee was going to diagnose him with another concussion―he idly wondered how many of those he could get in a year before it caused actual brain damage. Then the stallion’s eyes looked out the right side of his cockpit. A satisfied smile pursed his lips as he beheld the lance’s tip embedded in the Sombra’s barrel, a meter below, and two meters behind, the Sombra’s left shoulder.

“I’m not much for ‘sloppy seconds’,” he muttered, not even sure if he was still transmitting, or if the other pilot was even listening anymore. He depressed the trigger on his prismatic projector cannon, which was mounted within the lance. A rainbow corona of light bled out of the hole in the assault ‘Steed’s armor where it had been pierced, and out the other side.

A second later, the Sombra began to crackle and glow with violet lightning. The reactor was going critical. Slipshod slammed his hind hooves on the pedals, reversing his ‘Steed as fast as it would go. He didn’t know exactly how much time he had to clear the blast area before the core blew; but he was fairly sure it was just the unfortunate side of ‘not quite enough’.

Slipshod decided that he wouldn’t mind being wrong a little more often just about the time the blast wave hit, bringing along with it a wall of debris that stripped away the rest of what little armor had managed to stubbornly cling to his ‘Steed throughout the fight. He set about silencing a slew of alarms and skimming the litany of reports that the computer fed him, paying more attention to what wasn’t being mentioned. Specifically the systems related to the Crystal Cavalier’s mobility. He wasn’t particularly concerned with weapons anymore. They weren’t going to be of any further help anyway.

“The last target is down,” Twilight reported.

The stallion spared a second to see that the third Pharynx had indeed been neutralized. With extreme prejudice as well, he noted with a frown. The alicorn was indeed rather selective when it came to her ‘no killing’ policy, “perfect. Let’s move to the extraction point. The Galloway’ll be here in two minutes,” his radar, though much patchier as a result of the damage he’d sustained, seemed to indicate that the Commonwealth DropShips had landed spread out over the area, the closest one about five kilometers away from their position. Either the Donagle units didn’t know exactly where they he and the others were, and were trying to cover a wide area, or they were trying to box the Coursers in.

Either way, they should just have enough time to board their own DropShip before more than a few light picket ‘Steeds stumbled across them. If any of the Commonwealth’s heavier BattleSteeds showed up…

He was in no shape to do anything, and he doubted that Twilight was that good.

“What about the last objective?” Valkyrie asked.

“It’s three klicks out,” Slipshod didn’t even try to hide how dismissive of the notion he felt. The pegasus had better sensors than he did. She knew perfectly well they’d never make it in range of the sensor and comm arrays in time, to say nothing of getting to their pickup, “and in the opposite direction.”

“I can get us a shot from here!” she insisted, “If I go low power and uni-directional with my targeting radar, I can get a lock on the primaries. Purple Rose can use my tracking data to lob some Hail Celestias with her LRMs. They’d be ballistic on their way down, sure, but radar dishes aren’t known for their maneuverability―”

Slipshod had started shaking his head before Val was done talking, “it’s too risky. The Commonwealth’ll be on us in―Val!” the Parasprite was already running for the slope of the nearby volcano so that she could get the elevation she needed to acquire her line-of-sight lock on the outpost.

“Mission first, remember?” the mare chided him, “I just need a minute!”

The earth pony’s eyes went to his radar display. Crimson contact blips were popping in and out on the screen as his ‘Steed’s sensors made intermittent contact with the output from their reactors through the rough terrain. He wasn’t entirely positive that they had a minute.

Not that there was anything that he could do about it now.

His eyes bounced between his sensors and the Parasprite as it nimbly climbed its way to the lip of the caldera. His map suddenly lit up with over two dozen signatures as Valkyrie’s more potent detection suite found all of the incoming units closing in on them from its new vantage point. Then they began to slowly wink out as the pegasus mare tweaked her systems for focused distance, rather than broad area coverage.

Five agonizing seconds later, he saw two contacts illuminate in the distance. The comm tower and the radar array at their target, over four kilometers away.

“I have tone. I have lock,” Twilight announced, “Firing first salvo...firing second,” Slipshod watched as a nearly endless stream of forty missiles streamed skyward from the Rainbow Dash’s backside, “Missiles away.”

“Great, now get down from there!” Slipshod snapped over his mic.

“Can’t yet; I have to guide them in until they’re ballistic! Five more seconds…”

The earth pony felt his teeth grinding, nearly cracking a tooth when a new voice came over his helmet’s headset, “Galloway inbound,” High Gain announced, the stress of the moment clear in the unicorn mare’s voice. These sorts of hot-zone recoveries were understandably dangerous for all involved, and done relatively rarely if it could be helped, “pick up in thirty seconds!”

“Val, get down here now!” Slipshod yelled into his mic. A new marker appeared on his HUD, supplied by their DropShip to let the three of them know exactly where they needed to have their ‘Steeds for retrieval. The Galloway wouldn’t be landing like it usually did, but instead coming to a hover so that it could start ascending as rapidly as possible the moment the ‘Steeds were secured.

“Annnnd...Bingo! Splash two! Targets down; mission complete,” the pegasus announced excitedly, “see? Nothing to worry ab―”

The comm abruptly went dead.

Slipshod whipped his head around to look through the cockpit window. He was just in time to see Valkyrie’s bulbous little Parasprite topple over and begin tumbling limply down the steep slope of the volcano. Its roll permitted him periodic glimpses of the cockpit. Or, rather, the blackened divot where a cockpit had once been.

Multicolored helixes of light crisscrossed beneath the clouds as other Commonwealth pilots missed out on being the one to score the killing blow on the exposed little ‘Steed. Somepony would likely be bragging tonight about how’d they been the quickest on the trigger today, and maybe even score a free drink or two off their comrades for the feat. Valkyrie’s death would be reduced to a drinking contest by ponies who’d never even known her.

“Val!” Twilight called out, “Galloway, Lieutenant Valkyrie’s ‘Steed is down; requesting S&R immediately―”

“Belay that,” Slipshod cut the alicorn off, “no ejection; no beacon,” he informed the DropShip crew tersely, “proceed with extraction. Get to the pickup site, Gallop Three,” he was already spurring his Cavalier to the designated coordinates.

“But…” a heavy pause, “...understood,” the Rainbow Dash fell into step beside him.

Jade and sapphire beams of light danced around the pair of ‘Steeds, a few inevitably finding their marks by virtue of saturating the area. The range was still very extreme though, so even those hits did little more than burn away paint. A few seconds later, those shots received answering volleys from the Mustang-class DroShip that burst out of the overcast cloud layer. Heavy magical energy blasts, prismatic projection cannons, and missile volleys rained down from the sky, joined soon by emerald columns of light as the boxy vessel rapidly decelerated to an altitude of just fifteen meters above the ground. A scant few meters above the pair of heavy ‘Steeds that it was here to collect.

Blood Chit’s recovery team must have been jumping out of the ventral doors before the Galloway had even come to a complete stop, because it wasn’t even a second later that Slipshod heard armored hooves clattering over the exterior of his Cavalier. An identical team of six ponies had landed on Twilight’s Rainbow Dash, dragging down with them lines of steel rope that were swiftly and smoothly affixed to hoist points spaced strategically along the topside of the ‘Steed.

A third team seemed to have not gotten the message about Valkyrie, as a half dozen ponies started clambering back up their lines; having rather abruptly discovered that the ‘Steed they were supposed to be recovering wasn’t there to be recovered.

The ponies who ended up having actual work to do seemed completely oblivious to the lethal light show going on around them, which was now being joined by tracer fire as well. They had a job to do, and the sooner they did it, the sooner everypony would be out of danger. It wasn’t as though they’d have a hope of moving faster than a beam of light, or a supersonic kinetic round. They wouldn't even see it coming. So there was hardly a point in trying.

Even as that thought crossed Slipshod’s mind, he saw a unicorn with a line gripped in her telekinetic grasp vanish in a cloud of fleshy confetti. She’d been standing where an autocannon stream had apparently called ‘dibs’, and paid for it with her life. A pegasus who’d just finished securing his assigned line a couple meters away didn’t even flinch. He simply hopped over, grabbed the flailing bloody line with a wing, and completed her work.

The signal was given, and Slipshod felt his ‘Steed lurch upward. It was anypony’s guess whether it was because the winches were drawing them in, or because the Galloway was rocketing upwards away from the kill zone that the Commonwealth had been creating around them. Both seemed to have happened simultaneously, as far as he could tell. The recovery team was clinging to their lines like their lives depended on it.

Probably because they did.

Both ‘Steeds were fully winched inside and the ventral bay doors sealed shut before the Galloway hit the troposphere, but it was a near thing, judging by the fact that the techs were all wearing vac-suits. They’d obviously been prepared in the event that the DropShip’s hull was breached.

Slipshod numbly waited for the Bay team to lower his Cavalier back down to the floor of the ship before beginning the power down sequence. A rapping of a suited hoof on the outside of his cockpit drew the stallion’s attention. The earth pony saw a pressure-suited Tig shaking her head and motioning for him to lay back down before jabbing her hoof behind her. The earth pony craned his neck and saw that the Galloway had, in fact, not emerged from the battle completely unscathed. Repair teams were already working to seal the breach, but it would be some time before the ‘Steed Bay was repressurized.

Hopefully, it would be time enough for him to figure out how he was going to explain to Squelch exactly how things had managed to go so wrong on a mission that was supposed to be a cake walk...

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