Princess Twilight Sparkle stood defiantly atop the head of her cerulean blue and golden accented Rainbow Dash, adorned in polished silver barding. Aligned at her flanks was the better part of a full battalion of medium and heavy tonnage BattleSteeds. Just behind her were a trio of assault ‘Steeds, piloted by Triton, Citron, and Star Captain Honeycrisp, along with Xanadu and his Philomena, who would be serving as her bodyguards for the upcoming engagement.

Before them was the city of Ponyville. At its center was the crystalline spire that housed the regional command and control center and helped to coordinate troop movements in the area. Far off in the distance, clinging to the mountainside, was Canterlot Castle. It barely resembled the collection of ivory spires it had once been long ago. These days it was a pyramid of black stone growing out of the cliff face like a blighted tumor. Within it dwelled the source of the cancer infesting the galaxy.

In the next few hours, that source of rot would either be removed once and for all…or they would fail here and now and the galaxy would be forever doomed. The Clans and their allies had done everything that they could to prepare for this confrontation. Victory was far from guaranteed, unfortunately, but it was as close at hoof as they could get it. So long as very specific events went accordingly.

It was time now to see if they could clear the first hurdle.

The purple alicorn―who was absolutely not a changeling disguising himself as the Princess of Friendship―keyed her helmet’s comlink into the frequency which had been provided by the ComSpark scout they’d captured. She applied the access codes that allowed her access to the communications network and then dialed in the address that she desired. A gentle chirp confirmed that all of the provided parameters had been accepted and Twilight now had a direct line of communication to the Queen of the Changelings herself.

The mare’s lips split into a wide satisfied smile. “Oh, Chryssy~! Guess who’s back~!” She sing-songed, pumping all of the self-satisfaction that she could manage into her words. Even from here, the alicorn could feel the sudden spike in fury wafting down from Canterlot. Chrysalis didn’t seem to care for the fact that her adversary was able to intrude on her so directly in the slightest, it seemed. Good.

“I see that you’ve redecorated since I’ve been away,” Twilight continued in an almost conversational tone. She feigned judging the architecture with a critical eye before flicking her hoof dismissively at the castle. “Can’t say I care for it much. Your tastes were always so…pedestrian. I mean, really, basic black? I thought you were supposed to be royalty? Where’s the majesty? The gravitas?

“Not that I should be surprised, I suppose. You always were simpleminded. I mean, just look at how easily I made it back here! Whoever planned your defenses must have been completely incompetent―oh. Wait. Since you’re the queen, doesn’t that mean you planned them? Oh my, how embarrassing for you…”

She could feel the changeling queen’s rage boiling over. There was a stirring of movement within Ponyville. A volley of missiles launched from within the city, arcing high into the air. Twilight estimated that there were several hundred of them, being directed by a collection of dedicated LRM platforms in Ponyville linked in to the city’s perimeter defense turrets. She watched them sail through the air towards her―and specifically her.

As those missiles began their descent, the alicorn felt the first nagging doubts about this plan. After all, the plan would be cut rather short if those warheads found their intended target. Here was hoping that Clan technology was as good as she had been assured that it was…

The missiled got far closer than Twilight might have preferred before a multitude of tracer streams leapt into the air to meet them. Lines of orange specs flew up from the withers and flanks of several dozen Disciple BattleSteeds as their automated anti-missile systems finally seemed to take notice of the incoming threats and did their due diligence in dispensing with the ComSpark warheads. It actually worked in their favor that all of those missiles had been converging onto a single target, as it meant the missile barrage had been concentrated into a relatively confined area that could be made the focus of all of the flack being directed to intercept them.

The LRMs were clustered so close together, in fact, that some of their detonations as the result of being intercepted even took out some of their companions, making the job of the collective AMS units even simpler. In a matter of seconds, the sky was devoid of any further threats. Twilight let out a silent sigh of relief, and then resumed her smug expression as she once more addressed her comlink.

“That was sad. What’s even sadder is the fact that you’re just proving how bad you are at catching me,” Twilight sneered, exuding her contempt for the changeling queen. For just as the alicorn-who-totally-wasn’t-a-changeling could sense the rage and fury―as well as the fear―emanating from Canterlot Castle, so too would Chrysalis be able to sense the stronger emotions that the mare was broadcasting. The best part was that the alicorn didn’t even have to worry about the changeling queen sensing any deception coming from her, as she wasn’t expressing anything that a certain changeling stallion didn’t happen to be in complete agreement with.

“Actually,” the purple mare corrected herself, feigning having to ponder the matter deeply, “now that I think about it…you’ve never captured me before, have you? You didn’t even really ‘fail’ before either, since you didn’t actually try. You were always so scared of facing me that you just sent some of your drones to do it instead.

“I got away five hundred years ago. It stands to reason I’ll get away this time too. Then I’ll come and bring that castle down around you.”

The rage coming from Canterlot finally seemed to boil over. “Fool! I’ve beaten you before, you pathetic mare!”

Totally-Twilight was forced to reinforce her emotional blocks in order to keep the instinctive fear reaction that she had upon hearing the words of the queen spoken aloud from being detected. Unfortunately, it seemed that there was still an innate psychological connection between hearing Chrysalis speak and feelings of unbridaled terror. As it pretty much never turned out ‘good’ for any mere drone who found themselves the focus of Her Majesty’s personal attention, hearing the queen’s voice tended to be associated with imminent death.. Especially when she was angry!

Fortunately, there were still plenty of potent emotional reserves present within the mare that she was able to draw upon and ensure that her mental barriers were as resilient as they could ever hope to be. Paired with the fact that Chrysalis was obviously too pissed off to be thinking straight, it was highly unlikely that the changeling queen had sensed anything out of sorts with the ‘alicorn’ that she was conversing with.

Twilight scoffed. “Oh? And how did that work out in the end, seeing as how I’m standing here?” The mare teased.

Another volley of missiles was heaved towards her from Ponyville. This barrage was dealt with just as efficiently as the first. However, the missiles were not alone this time. A force of ComSpark BattleSteeds and armored vehicles charged out of the city’s walls. Not a particularly massive force, Twilight saw. She wasn’t surprised by that either. If anything, the Ponyville garrison would have been whittled down prior to their arrival, in order to make the city a more inviting target to lure them into the city for ComSpark’s planned ambush.

That plan was obviously no longer considered viable by Chrysalis. Or, more likely, she was no longer concerned with using guile to capture the alicorn. She knew she had the numbers to overwhelm the group of Reivers and Disciples outside of Ponyville, so she was just going to use them far more bluntly.

Twilight grimaced. They had their own reinforcements waiting in the wings to surround the ComSpark divisions prepared to pounce on Ponyville, and in the end they’d be able to win the battle here. However, that wasn’t the plan. It wasn’t enough to destroy the ComSpark forces in the area. There were plenty more on the planet ready to take their place, and they didn’t have enough troops to beat them all. They didn’t have enough time either. The changeling WarShips were on their way, and would be in orbit in less than six hours. Cinder’s ships would have to be on their way out by then, or the Clan fleet would be destroyed.

If they wanted to win, they needed Chrysalis to come out and face ‘Twilight’ herself. She wasn’t going to do that if she sensed that she was being baited into a trap. The forces in Baltimare and Fillydelphia couldn’t be brought in. They had to stay put and continue to look like they were preparing to assault Canterlot.

“Hold on a second, Chryssy; I’ve got some bugs that need stepping on,” the purple alicorn sneered before she hopped down through the open hatch into the cockpit of the Rainbow Dash. She swapped over to their group’s internal comms frequency as she got herself strapped into her piloting couch. As she spoke, her words sounded several registers lower, like those of a stallion. “How bad is it?” Slipshod asked.

“The two companies coming out of P-ville will be easy enough to deal with,” Triton informed the changeling. “They’re a mix of light and medium chassis. But we’re seeing heavier units coming in from the east and west.”

Slipshod glanced at the sensor display. There were only a few lances that had been detected coming at their group from the left and right, but he knew that there would be more coming soon enough behind them. Those ComSpark forces were just out of position for this type of attack and needed time to reform. He could see that those units had heavier chassis than what was in front of them. At least they weren’t quite surrounded. Yet.

“Triton, have the Reivers fall back and make sure we have a corridor to withdraw through,” the changeling pilot instructed the hippogriff. “Don’t let them box us in.

“Honeycrisp, your company has the west. Citron’s Disciples take east. Remind your units not to let themselves get sucked in too deep. There’s going to be a lot more ComSpark ‘Steeds coming. We’ll fall back as needed.”

“What about the units in front of us?” Xanadu inquired.

“Those are ours,” Slipshod answered simply, a smile crossing his purple lips as he looped his fetlocks around the Rainbow Dash’s control yokes and throttled forward.

An alarm warned the changeling pilot that more enemy missiles were forthcoming, but he wasn’t particularly concerned. He eyed the trails of smoke as the warheads raced towards his BattleSteed. Then, as they were about to impact, he nudged the control yokes to the left. Jump jets built into the legs and canards of the Rainbow Dash erupted to life and dutifully shifted the seventy-ton robotic equine to the side with almost effortless ease. Unable to correct their trajectory in time, the rain of missiles impacted the ground, detonating harmlessly.

Slipshod chuckled to himself as he enticed the deceptively agile ‘Steed into a galloping slalom around the plumes of exploding missiles with near reckless abandon. The BattleSteed responded like it was an extension of the pilot’s body, answering with a level of grace that the changeling hadn’t ever considered possible from a ‘Steed.

Once, many months ago during an impromptu duel, the real Twilight Sparkle had managed to completely wipe the floor with him while sitting in this same cockpit. At the time, Slipshod had been led to believe that the purple alicorn had simply possessed an entirely different level of skill from his own. While he was willing to concede that Twilight was a better pilot than he was with more experience at the control yokes of a ‘Steed, the changeling suspected that being in this specific BattleSteed had given her a markedly unfair advantage.

There just simply wasn’t any comparing the Rainbow Dash to modern BattleSteeds. ‘Steeds of today were clunky and lumbering hulks of steel. This…well, this was a pony in robotic form. That was the only way he could think of to describe it. Anything that a pony could do―any way that a pony could move―this ‘Steed could. Except it could also do those things better and faster.

It also had very big guns!

Slipshod’s helmet sounded with a tone indicating that his own missiles had acquired a lock on his target. Slipshod finally launched a barrage of his own in response. Twenty missiles lept from the back of his Rainbow Dash and arc across the sky, raining down on the Striker which had been harrying him up to this point. A second lock was attained within just a couple of seconds on another of the ComSpark missile platforms. Another score of missiles made short work of that target too.

He swung the hind end of his Rainbow Dash around, using the jump jets to allow him to strafe across the front of one of the ComSpark BattleSteeds ahead of him, a Pharynx. Dual impacts from his prismatic projection cannons and a sustained burst from the recently installed ultra-autocannon proved to be far more than the medium-tonnage enemy ‘Steed could handle along the same armor facing. It detonated in a violent reactor explosion.

Nor was Slipshod the only one engaging the oncoming forces either. Behind him, the Big Mac being piloted by the Clan star captain was also reaching out with its missiles and shoulder-mounted heavy pulsed energy cannons, melting medium and heavy combat vehicles with little issue. Triton’s BattleSaddle was dancing around a Pharynx opponent of his own, cycling through the sextet of medium energy cannons clustered in his chest in a manner that allowed the hippogriff to effectively maintain a perpetual beam of emerald light burning into the enemy ‘Steed. While a strike from one or two of those weapons was rarely a significant issue even for fifty-ton ‘Steeds, having an essentially infinite number of them focused on a specific section of armor plating perpetually was a serious problem. It wasn’t long before something volatile in the Pharynx ruptured and the ComSpark ‘Steed exploded. Triton then moved on to another target.

Citron’s Maulwurf was no slouch in this fight either, hanging back slightly as its quartet of light autocannons ripped through one vehicle after another in rapid succession. ComSpark vehicles and ‘Steeds died one after another to the lance of superior BattleSteeds confronting them. However, as well as things might have been going for them against the small contingent which had emerged from Ponyville, it wasn’t indicative of the tide of the wider fight around them.

It wasn’t a couple dozen lighter ‘Steeds and combat vehicles which were pressing in on their forces from the east and west, but rather entire brigades of heavy warmachines. The Clanners and Disciples fought valiantly, taking full advantage of their superior designs and weapons, but there was no point in denying that ComSpark’s quantity of forces possessed a quality all their own. For every changeling ‘Steed that fell, two more arrived to take its place and push the invaders back. Unfortunately, there were no reinforcements available to cover any of their own losses to ComSpark.

With every passing minute, Slipshod saw their troop roster being trimmed down, all while his sensors showed an ever increasing number of crimson dots. He felt his teeth grinding in frustration as his Rainbow Dash darted around the battlefield, snapping off chromatic blasts from his PPCs and peppering the enemy with explosive shells. His ammunition counts were steadily dwindling for both his autocannons and missiles as the fighting dragged on. While his ‘Steed’s projector cannons and lighter energy weapons meant that he would never truly lose the ability to continue fighting, no matter how long this battle went on, there was no denying that his ability to deal out damage would be severely hindered.

The same went for the others as well. Much of the firepower for his lancemates was also derived from ballistic and missile weaponry and their finite munitions. Once those weapons ran dry, the time it took them to kill ComSpark BattleSteeds would grow, as would the time those same enemies had to deal out damage of their own. The tide of the fight would start to turn even more steeply than it already was as fresh and fully loaded changeling forces continued to pour in around the worn down invaders.

This was ultimately a fight that they couldn’t win. Which was something that they’d all known going into it, so that wasn’t so bad in and of itself. They weren’t supposed to have ‘won’ it, not really. They―or, more specifically, he as Twilight Sparkle―were supposed to have simply been the bait meant to draw Chrysalis out into the open.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be happening. Which was something of a serious problem where their plan was concerned.

“They’re pushing us back,” Citron noted. In the background, Slipshod could hear the faint blaring of several alarms that suggested the earth pony’s ‘Steed was no longer in ideal condition. His own Rainbow Dash had taken a hit or two as well, despite the changeling’s best piloting efforts and its design’s unmatched maneuverability. It was simply impossible to avoid all of the incoming fire from the literally scores of ComSpark BattleSteeds that were closing in around them.

“Fourth’s down t’ two thirds strength,” Star Captain Honeycrisp relayed, “and they’re sayin’ another Commy company’s tryn’na swing in behind us!”

“My Reivers are moving to intercept them, but they’ve also taken serious losses,” Triton warned. “I’m not sure how long they can keep the corridor open. We may need to withdraw.”

“For the record: I second the running away thing!” The zebra pilot insisted.

“We can’t leave yet!” Slipshod affirmed as he jumped his Rainbow Dash out of the way of another salvo of missiles. His answering volley provoked an alert notifying him that the last of his own LRMs had just been expended. The changeling let out a muffle curse as he cast a quick glance at his remaining count of autocannon shells. While the type-five’s smaller caliber of ammunition meant that the magazines had been able to hold more rounds than they could have for the former type-ten, its vastly improved rate of fire meant that those more numerous rounds were consumed much more quickly. He was now down to a couple dozen shells. Enough for just a few more pulls of the trigger.

“If we leave before Chrysalis shows up, we won’t have the numbers for another shot at this!”

“Well she hasn’t shown up yet; and in another fifteen minutes she’s not going to need to because we’ll all be dead anyway!” Triton pointed out dryly. “We have to either withdraw or call in the rest of our forces.”

“If we call them in―” Slipshod’s words were cut off as another enemy round struck his ‘Steed, obliterating the ablative plating on the Rainbow Dash’s right shoulder. The armor performed its job admirably and none of the internal systems beneath it sustained any damage. The changeling pilot pivoted around and laid into the assailing ComSpark ‘Steed with both his PPCs and one of his precious few remaining bursts from his autocannon. The enemy Pharynx collapsed as its left limbs were both sheared off. He then jetted away as a Sombra moved in to engage.

“If we call them in now, then she’ll see it was a trap and she definitely won’t show up!”

“She’s not showing up anyway!” Citron snapped. “She probably knows it’s a trap. Though I can’t imagine how she might have figured that out…” The Disciple snarled under his breath, but purposefully loud enough to be picked up by his mic.

“Calli didn’t snitch on us,” Slipshod insisted, referring to the changeling scout that he’d spared and ordered released earlier after she’d supplied him with the communication protocols he needed in order to contact the changeling queen directly. It had been a decision which pretty much nocreature had believed was what one might call a ‘good idea’. In fact, a lot of very disparaging remarks had been made in reference to that decision. Despite Slipshod’s assurances that they had nothing to fear from the scout.

“Because a scout on a mission to report on our activities would absolutely never report on our activities…”

“She promised she wouldn’t say anything.”

“Oh, well if she promised…”

“There’s no changing that,” the hippogriff cut in gruffly, “and bickering’s not helping anything. The fact remains that the queen hasn’t left Canterlot and we can’t remain here much longer. If we’re going to withdraw, it needs to be soon.”

Slipshod let out a resigned breath. The hippogriff had a point. Even if the changeling scout hadn’t revealed anything that she knew to the others, Chrysalis hadn’t risen to the bait that he’d offered. That part had honestly surprised him a little. He had been sure that digging at the queen’s pride like that should have been enough to bring her out to face down ‘Twilight’ in the flesh. Instead, she seemed to be content to let her minions handle things.

Damn.

The changeling pilot grit his teeth and prepared to issue the order to withdraw. They’d need to come up with some other way to get Chrysalis out of Canterlot. Hopefully Cinder had some ideas, because he was fresh out of them.

Slipshod opened his mouth to give the long overdue order, but then hesitated a moment. He found himself glaring in the direction of Canterlot castle. If they pulled out now, it was all but a given that they’d be forced back off Equus and who knew how long it would be before another attempt could be made. If another attempt ever could be made. Twilight and the crew of the Zathura may very well end up having died for nothing.

Squelch―his whole life―gone. Again. Everything he had in the universe had been stolen from him by Chrysalis for a second time. She was going to win, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it…

No. No, he wouldn’t allow that. It ended today. Chrysalis and ComSpark ended today!

He swapped his radio over to the frequency that had been designated for use in order to summon their forces from Baltimare and Fillydelphia. It was a summons which was supposed to only be used once Chrysalis was out of Canterlot, so that those forces could surround the changeling queen and trap her outside her protective fortress. However, as she had been disinclined to obliged him by rising to his earlier bait and was remaining inside the castle, Slipshod was taking it upon himself to modify the plan.

Shifting his pitch back into Twilight’s higher register, Slipshod began his broadcast, “Princess One to all forces: initiate operation!”

A moment later, Honeycrisp was in his ear on their lance’s internal frequency, and the star captain didn’t sound particularly happy, “What in tarnation are you doin’?! Chrysalis ain’t out here!”

“Not yet,” the changeling pilot agreed in his more masculine voice, “but she will be soon. I’ll see to it. We just need to fall back a little, but stay in the area. Draw ComSpark in and let them get surrounded by Timberjack and the others.”

“I’m not sure we could get out of here if we wanted to anyway.” Triton said dourly, “ComSpark cut my forces off. They’re getting in around behind us.”

“In that case, get everycreature circled up. Help will be here in a few minutes. We just need to hold out until it gets here.”

“Oh, well if that’s all we need to do…” Xanadu snorted.

The surviving BattleSteeds from among the Clan and Disciple units bunched in closer together in a tight formation, facing outward against the encircling ComSpark forces. They’d been whittled down in number significantly since the start of this fight, and most of them had either expended all of their consumable ammunition or were close to it. None of their ‘Steeds were undamaged, and quite a few of those still standing were in critical condition. Slipshod noted that Citron’s Maulwurf in particular had a rather pronounced limp. Nor was theirs the only one.

As the hippogriff had warned them, their southern route for withdrawal had been cut off, his Reivers unable to keep the ComSpark flanking units at bay with their own sub-company strength numbers. The lance and change of remaining former pilots were still trying to wedge themselves into the changeling units and open up an avenue of escape, but it was highly unlikely that they’d be able to succeed. They were trapped now, with changeling BattleSteeds on all sides. It was certainly a less than ideal situation.

Slipshod noted that, now that they were grouped up in a singular area, his ‘Steed in particular appeared to be a preferred target for the ComSpark pilots. The changeling sported a wry smile as he focused on darting about the battlefield as best he could, taking shots where he could, but putting far more effort into staying fast and staying mobile in order to keep from taking too many hits. Beams of coherent light crisscrossed the air. The ground bubbled with explosions as missiles and autocannons shells alike missed their targets and struck the earth instead. Occasionally, a violet ball of magical energy announced the destruction of another ‘Steed in their ranks, thinning their numbers even further. The lines would tighten up to account for the fallen pilot, the circle of survivors shrinking a little more.

“Five hundred years and your minions still have trouble hitting the broad side of a ‘Steed.” Slipshod sneered into his mic, once more broadcasting on the communications protocol that gave him direct access to Queen Chrysalis, and in the voice of the purple alicorn whose form he had assumed. “The academies on Equus used to be the best in the Sphere,” he chided, “but I guess you’ve let the standards slip since I left.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Slipshod went on in an almost dismissive tone, even as he leaped the Rainbow Dash into the air and snapped off his final burst of autocannon shells into the spine of a ComSpark BattleSteed, neatly breaking the steel behemoth in half and detonating its reactor. The moment the Rainbow Dash was on the ground again, he jerked it aside, just in time to avoid being struck by a pulsed beam of sapphire light. Honeycrisp’s Big Mac responded to the shooter with a pair of pulsed beams of her own. Those did not miss. “It’s not like you were ever the ‘smart one’ of the three though, were you?

“That was Cozy Glow. Now there was a smart mare! You can’t imagine how relieved I am that it’s you I’m going up against and not her.” Slipshod sneered through his mic even as he sensed the spike in vitriol coming from the direction of Canterlot. It seemed that he was on the right track again. “I guess I lucked out with her being mortal and all. Because if she was the one on Equus, I’d already have been caught. Heck, this whole invasion would have been stopped dead before we reached the moon!”

Another Disciple ‘Steed fell. The circle contracted again, only for a Clan pilot to go down a moment later. There were only a couple dozen of them left now, of a force that had once numbered over a hundred in total. All the while, the ComSpark forces only seemed to keep growing in number. For every energy cannon that fired outward, a dozen seemed to respond. Only a hoofful of seconds seemed to go by before yet another of their number succumbed to the overwhelming firepower being thrown their way.

Slipshod forced himself to sound unconcerned, in spite of his ‘Steed’s own displays beginning to show him more than a few warnings in regards to the integrity of his remaining armor.

“Might have been the case with Tirek too, now that I think about it―being the brawns of your group and all.” He added as though it were an intriguing afterthought. “He was able to suck the raw magical energy out of ponies. Not just their emotions. He also didn’t have to share it. Five hundred years of suckng down pony magic? To include three alicorns? Oh yeah, he’d have totally toasted our fleet in orbit before we could land. Meanwhile, you kind of just…let us walk right in.”

That ire flared once more, bubbling over as the changeling queen’s incredulity grew. She didn’t appear to care all that much for having her competency questioned, and her pride certainly wasn’t going to stand for it. She was the almighty changeling queen, after all. Who was this little deposed princess to question her capabilities and leadership?

His ‘Steed staggered, missing a step as an autocannon shell detonated against the barrel of his Rainbow Dash. Alarms began to blair in his cockpit, and a number of warnings appeared on his console. He’d lost a cluster of jump jets, and his reactor was reporting reduced cooling efficiency. He snarled and wheeled around, pouring out a barrage of fire from his energy cannons and PPCs alike in response. He crippled his attacker, but also spiked the heat in his reactor to dangerous levels. He disregarded the warnings and overrode the automated shutdown in case it decided that it wanted to make a nuisance of itself.

It wasn’t like dying from a reactor meltdown was his biggest concern at the moment.

“Come to think of it, if Cozy was the ‘brains’, and Tirek was the ‘brawns’…what exactly was your role again? Aside from ‘anchor’, I mean?” Rage wafted out from Canterlot now. Along with a fervent desire to demonstrate to the speaker how in error they were. Chrysalis’ sense of pride wasn’t going to be able to take much more of this disrespect. “Because let’s face it: you were definitely the weak link of the three. I mean, look at how useless you were when it came to taking down the Celestia League!”

Slipshod could smell something burning in his cockpit now. Probably quite a few ‘somethings’, given how high the temperature for his reactor was riding. He was down to using just the medium pulsed energy cannons because firing the PPCs even once at this moment risked melting down his reactor and ending his fight here and now. An explosion from beside him caused his ‘Steed to tremble as it heralded the loss of another of their number. Very few blue dots remained on his sensors now.

He looked out through his cockpit viewport at the vast army of ComSpark BattleSteeds still out there, firing away with reckless abandon into their little circle of defenders. It wasn’t like there was much chance of them missing after all. The changeling pilot sneered at them all the same. Defiant. He fired off another blast of pulsed energy at one of the Pharynxes. It wasn’t going to do much, of course. The arsenal of his heavy tonnage BattleSteed had been whittled down to what was effectively less than many lighter chassis. A Pharynx wasn’t in any immediate danger from him any longer.

Then Slipshod saw the rising tide of long range missiles from behind the ComSpark lines. A massive swarm of what had to be thousands of warheads was arcing up into the sky and heading their way. Their group had long since run out of ammunition for their anti-missile systems. Not that there was anywhere near enough of them still standing to have had a hope at fending off such a storm of missiles even if their magazines had been full. Those LRMs would come crashing down upon them like a tidal wave, washing the remains of their pitiful little band away in an instant.

And there wasn’t anything that they could do about it.

Yet, Slipshod still refused to give in completely. He had to get Chrysalis out of Canterlot. “Tirek drove the league to the brink of destruction and formed the first cracks in the confidence of my leadership. Cozy Glow widened those cracks and shattered the League. You…well, you just sort of sat around and waited for them to do all the real work. Then you camped out on Canterlot and did nothing.

“Though, I guess we should all play to our strengths now, shouldn’t we? And you’re certainly the ‘queen of nothing’!”

The missiles crashed down…

…Right on top of the ComSpark BattleSteeds.

Pandemonium struck the changeling ranks as dozens of their ‘Steeds were simultaneously crippled and hundred damaged. An instant later, beams of sapphire light and rainbow coils struck at them from behind. Explosions rippled through the encircling ComSpark forces, who now found that it was they who were being fired at from all sides. Order dissolved as commanders were taken out and a hundred different voices announced a hundred different directions for the incoming fire that was shredding their divisions.

Even between them, the forces coming out of Baltimare and Fillydelphia were vastly outnumbered by the changeling units which had been lying in wait for ‘Twilight’ around Ponyville. However, they had surprise on their side, and their opening salvos had been quite effective, catching ComSpark unaware and from behind. Even when it’s a smaller force doing the encircling, it is usually quite effective.

Slipshod was finally able to adopt a much more genuine smile as he watched the changeling BattleSteeds descend into chaos. The crippled collection of defenders was largely forgotten in the face of the more immediate threat of the fresh units coming from behind. The distraction also proved to be exactly what was needed for the remaining Reiver lance to open up an extraction route. Nocreature wasted any time withdrawing south to safety, or the ammunition trucks for those who were still feeling capable of putting up a fight. Even Slipshod began to slowly back his Rainbow Dash away.

“See? How many divisions are you about to lose here? And you still couldn’t get me. No brains, no power. Just an inept bug sitting on her borrowed throne.

“The only useful thing you’ll have done for the last five hundred years is to keep it warm for me…”

The roar that answered him wasn’t just audible over Slipshod’s radio. It reverberated across the battlefield for all to hear. Several lulls formed throughout the fight as both changeling and pony alike found their attention drawn to the source of the guttural scream audible from within the cockpits of their ‘Steed’s. Many eyes looked towards Canterlot, including Slipshod’s.

It was all that the changeling pilot could do to contain the visceral terror he felt in that moment. The fear knotting inside of him was primal, and far more potent than what he’d felt even a minute ago back when he’d thought a thousand missiles were about to fall right on top of his head. Because what he was looking at right now was far more dangerous and deadly than any LRM salvo.

For five hundred years, the Queen of the Changelings had fed upon the love of untold millions of creatures from across the Harmony Sphere. While some was shared with the rest of her hive, Chrysalis had enjoyed the greater share of the bounty delivered to Equus. That immense reserve of power had required an equally immense container to store it in.

While Chrysalis had once upon a time been not much larger than a typical pony, comparable in stature to an alicorn, she was now considerably larger. Her present size dwarfed even that of a Big Mac, making one of the titanic BattleSteeds look like a Pipsqueak by comparison. Limbs the size of redwood trunks curled beneath her bulk, lined with spines and tipped with pocked hooves large enough to crush a tank like a beetle. Wings the breadth of the Zathura fanned out to either side of her body. Slitted eyes the size of aerospace fighters glowed with ethereal green light, and they were locked upon Slipshod’s Rainbow Dash.

“‘Nothing’, am I?!” The words weren’t coming over the radio anymore. They were being bellowed across the sky, and having little issue being heard from within the cockpit of Slipshod’s ‘Steed. She turned her gaze slightly to the side, eyeing a lance of Timberwolf’s Dragoons BattleSteeds. Her horn glowed with magic. A beam leapt from its gnarled tip and struck the quartet of ‘Steeds.

All four of them were vaporized in an instant.

“Face me, princess! Face me and experience how powerful I have become in your absence!”

Well…that was ‘step one’ down, Slipshod thought to himself.

“Enemy armor at two o’clock!” Shrike called out even as she jetted clear of an autocannon shell, the ordinance missing her battle armor by less than a meter. The ivory dragoness let out a delighted cackle as she avoided being hit.

“On it!” Pyrite called back over the radio.

The cyan dragon bolted for the ComSpark tank that had just narrowly missed his companion, sprinting across the cratered landscape. His approach didn’t go unnoticed, the crew of the changeling tank opening up on him with their machine gun. The rounds weren’t of a potent enough caliber to do significant damage to the protection offered by the dragon’s battle armor however, so he had little trouble closing the distance. Once he was within a hundred meters of the tank, he fired off his last remaining SRM from the mount above his shoulder. The missile crossed the distance almost instantly, detonating against the side of the tank.

It wasn’t a particularly massive-looking explosion. At least, not from the outside. One might have been forgiven for thinking that the impact had been entirely ineffectual as the tank continued to roll on for a few more seconds. Then it gradually came to a stop. A second later, the hatch on top of the turret popped open, releasing a column of thick black smoke and a few flickers of orange flame. A shape could be seen moving within the smoke, emerging from it soon to reveal a changeling scrambling to escape from the internal inferno.

The drone didn’t get very far though. A torrent of bullets cut him down before he’d even managed to clamber off of the top of the dead tank’s turret. Pyrite lowered his right arm and the machine gun mounted there and looked back in Shrike’s direction, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah; kill more changelings!” The dragoness cackled back even as she turned her attention to a group of drones that were flying towards the crashed hulk of the nearby DropShip she and the rest of the surviving Elementals were struggling to defend. She raised her left arm and unleashed a beam of ruby light from her light energy weapon. Two of the charging changelings were sliced neatly in half, but the third veered away at the last moment, narrowly avoiding death.

Only for a moment though. A short burst of heavy machine gun fire from a third Elemental splattered the fleeing changeling a second later. “Your accuracy is deteriorating, Shrike,” another dragoness’ voice crackled over the radio.

“Is that a fact, Cassie? Or did you finally learn how to crack jokes?”

“The former, of course,” the other dragoness assured Shrike before launching a missile as another oncoming changeling tank. The warhead struck at the seam between the turret and the main body of the armored vehicle, and the resulting explosion flipped the main gun up and over the newly formed flaming wreck.

“You’re a riot, Cass. I don’t care what Pyrite says about you!”

“Was I supposed to be saying things about her? What am I supposed to be saying? Why didn’t anycreature ask me to say things?” The dragon asked in a near panic.

“Don’t sweat it, Py. Just keep killing changelings.”

“Oh. Okay, sure! Whatever you need me to do to help!”

Shrike let out an irrepressible snicker and then spared a moment to evaluate their situation. In fairness, it wasn’t quite as desperate as it could have been. Mostly. While they were being beset upon on all sides and there seemed to be no end to the changeling forces assaulting them, thus far the bulk of those forces had consisted of infantry and light armor. No sign of any ComSpark BattleSteeds yet. Whether that was because there weren’t any in the area, or simply because the changelings hadn’t thought they’d need to send any to wipe out the survivors of a crashed DropShip, it was too early to say. The dragoness hoped it was the former. Because if all of their good fortune was the result of the changeling’s holding back, that was likely to change pretty soon once the attacking drones grew frustrated enough.

Which wasn’t to say that things were going perfectly for the DropShip crew either. They’d started this fight with precious few defenders to begin with, and so every individual loss was very significant. Plus the size of the DropShip’s hull meant that there was a lot of area to cover. Casualties tended to open up large gaps in their defensive lines that were hard to compensate for. If one approach was hit too hard all at once, it would be nearly impossible to close the breach in their lines before they were overrun. Once a significant number of changelings got past the trenches, then it would all be over.

A couple of the Elemental squads had elected to deploy forward, intercepting the more significant threats before they could get close enough to threaten the ship directly, while leaving most of the infantry to the ponies back in the trenches. Their battle armor was just about the only thing that could stand up to even the lighter ComSpark vehicles. As long as their supply of SRMs held out, that was.

Those ammunition reserves were dwindling fast, however. Their group hadn’t been supplied to hold out indefinitely. It had been intended that they’d be sustained by stockpiles being delivered to their insertion point by other, larger, DropShips. Of course, Shrike and her companions hadn’t made it to their insertion point. Which meant that the only munitions they had access to were whatever had been on the DropShip at the time. Which wasn’t a lot that was useful to them, and not in the quantities that it appeared they needed.

“Cassie, get us some more missiles,” Shrike said, her eyes studying her battle armor’s HUD, and the collection of additional armor contacts that were approaching their position, “we’re going to need them.”

“Moving out.”

Shrike jetted to the side once more, dashing out of the way of an enemy SRM. She tracked the trail of smoke back to its point of origin, and took note of a drone carrying a portable launcher. It tried to dive for cover, but failed to move fast enough to avoid being cut down by Shrike’s answering salvo of bullets, laughing maniacally as she did so.

“One, little two, little three, little changelings~!” The dragonessed sing-songed as she danced across the battlefield, alternating between extinguishing drones with her energy cannon and machine gun. “Four, little five, little six, little changelings~!” Her count was off significantly from the actual number. The sky was replete with swarming changeling drones, to the point that it was difficult to shoot and not hit at least a couple of them with every burst.

“Seven, little eight, little nine, little changelings! Ten little chan―”

“Look ou―!”

There was the sound of an explosion as something large struck Shrike from behind and hurled her to the ground. A feat that only spoke to the size and/or power of whatever had hit her, given that it took a considerable external force to throw around a metric ton of battle armor like it was a rag doll. The dragoness hit the ground hard, but managed to recover into a roll thanks to her training and innate strength. A burst from her suit’s jump jets put her back on her feet, and she scanned the area for any sign of what had hit her.

Her eyes widened in shock and horror…but only for a brief moment before they once more began to sparkle with unbridled mirth, her lips spreading into a wide grin once more. Standing in front of her was Pyrite. Or, rather, what was left of him. The upper left torso of his battle armor had taken a rather serious hit, likely from an autocannon round. That whole quadrant of the suit was missing, as was most of the dragon’s chest and head. The inert suit of battle armor was squat and stable enough that it didn’t fall over.

Shrike started laughing.

It was all that she could do. Literally. Regardless of the situation, or whatever feelings she might have wanted to experience to the contrary, her every emotional state defaulted to laughter and joy. Even when she was staring at the pulped remains of one of her comrades, all she felt was happiness.

It sickened her. But only for a fleeting moment. Then she was grinning and cracking another joke in memoriam to the dragon who had just saved her life. “Well, at least you waited a whole fifteen minutes before giving your life for me, you generous bastard!”

She then tore her eyes from the sight and looked in the direction that the shot had come from. Another ComSpark tank had emerged over the hill, and it was already targeting her with its next shot. Shrike flashed a far hungrier grin now. “Hi, new friend! Let’s play!”

The dragoness flared her jump jets to their maximum output, rocketing forward even as a second autocannon round raced past her, striking and destroying the remains of Pyrite’s suit. Nothing was left this time. The dragoness crossed the half kilometer between herself and the changeling tank with a rapid succession of jet-assisted leaps as she darted across the field. Tracers from the tank’s machine gun flowed towards her, but the gunner operating it was clearly having trouble trying to account for Shrike’s rapid changes in speed and direction as she bounded towards them.

With one final leap into the air, the dragoness landed atop the tank where none of its weapons could reach her. An armored claw reached down and took firm hold of the top hatch. Servos whined and hydraulics struggled, but the latch keeping the port closed gave way a few seconds later with a sharp snap of steel shearing off. Shrike hurled the hatch aside and then stuck the tip of the machine gun bolted to her other arm just inside the turret. She depressed the trigger.

The occupants within were helpless to avoid being riddled by ricochettes as scores of high-caliber bullets filled the compartment. All the while, a ringing laughter could be heard clearly through the battle armor’s helmet.

Her maniacal mirth was interrupted by an explosion that threw her from the top of the dissabled tank. Her HUD flashed several crimson messages at her. Shrike largely ignored their content as she struggled to right herself and figure out who it was that she had to kill in retribution for this affront. She noted that the tank that she’d been standing on a moment ago was looking far worse for wear, and it wasn’t the result of anything that she’d done. It had been struck by something far more potent than any weapon her battle armor carried.

Her smile soured briefly into a sneer as the dragoness spotted two more ComSpark armored vehicles coming her way, along with at least a full company of drones flying in support. Clearly it was one of those vehicles that had finished off the tank she’d been standing on. Likely in an attempt to hit her. These new arrivals were far too great of a force for her to take out on her own, and Cassie had yet to return.

“Sorry, fellas; I’m gonna need to take a rain check on this fight!” Shrike cackled as she initiated her battle armor’s jump jets and shot off in the direction of the wrecked DropShip. Tracers followed her most of the way as the dragoness bounded across the battlefield, utilizing various destroyed tanks for cover along the way. It wasn’t until just now that the Elemental realized just how far afield she’d managed to get from the rest of her group.

Of the Elementals who’d survived the crash, nearly a third of them had already been killed in the fighting. Now there were just over a dozen of them left, spread out around the DropShip as they tried to hold back the changelings. A veritable flaming graveyard of tanks and APCs was ringed around the Zathura, a testament to the effectiveness of even an understrength star of the potent Clan Elementals. Shrike wore a far more genuine smile as she contemplated the losses that they’d inflicted on the changelings here today.

Once more reformed with the line of other battle armor-suited dragons, Shrike turned around and began to return fire on the enemy. Tracers and beams of searing ruby light filled the air. Changeling drones who were not so well protected as the Clanners they were going up against rained from the sky as they were felled in droves. Yet, it seemed as though the ComSpark fighters were indifferent to the mounting losses they were sustaining, because they simply kept right on coming.

Shrike’s machine gun ceased firing. At first, the dragoness suspected a malfunction. However, a flashing red message in front of her eyes informed her that she’d depleted all of her ammunition. The only weapon left to her now was her light energy cannon. This greatly diminished her ability to lay out suppressive fire. She wasn’t the only Elemental in such a predicament either. The volume of fire being levied against the attacking changelings was continually falling off. Either as a result of running out of ammunition or outright losses. The result was that progressively greater numbers of drones and tanks were able to get closer, unmolested, and press home their own attacks.

The shrinking line of Elementals was pushed back closer and closer to the DropShip and its own organic defenders. The Zathura’s crew was also suffering from attrition and depleting resources, and their own effectiveness was waning. Fewer changelings were brought down with every passing minute, even as more ComSpark reinforcements arrived to fill their ranks.

It was a hopeless fight that they were inevitably going to lose.

Which, the dragoness supposed, was no reason to stop fighting. “Besides,” she snickered to herself, raising her energy cannon and firing off a beam that neatly sliced a drone in half, “where’s the fun in giving up?”

While she might not have had any rounds left for her battle armor’s integrated machine gun, it wasn’t like there was any shortage of weapons laying about the battlefield, courteously donated by the hordes of changeling drones who had so obligingly died up until this point. Shrike reached down and retrieved an assault rifle from the ground and began using it. The clip that was loaded in it didn’t last long though, and the dragoness couldn’t afford to spare the time to rifle through bodies looking for more. So she just tossed it aside and jetted over to the next nearest loaded rifle.

“You are in need of assistance,” she heard Cassandra announce bluntly just before her companion Elemental landed beside her. Clutched in the mechanical hands of the other dragoness’ battle armor was a canister of ammunition for Shrike’s depleted machine gun, as well as a reload for her missile launchers.

“Aww, and it’s not even my hatching day!” Shrike cooed playfully as she turned to accept the offerings. “Now I’m going to have to get you a pres―AARGH!”

Alarms blared even as an incredible pain unlike anything that she’d ever experienced before shot through Shrike’s body. Her legs seemed to give up from under her and she staggered down to her knee. Beside her, Cassandra was laying down a hail of suppressive fire with her weapons. Shrike tried to fight through the pain and stand, but found that she was facing resistance both from her own body, as well as her suit’s systems. Her battle armor was reporting significant damage to most of its backside, to include the power systems supplying the myomer musculature that was what allowed the metric ton mechanical suit to be moved by its operator. Without working myomer, battle armor was basically impossible to move in.

That was all beside the fact that she’d apparently also been physically injured by whatever had disabled her battle armor. Shrike could feel something warm and wet running down her tail. She hoped that it was hydraulic fluid; but the shooting pain in her gut suggested that it probably wasn’t.

Her suit’s systems issued a little chirp and then her HUD went dead. At first, Shrike thought that her battle armor had lost all of its power and gone completely inert. However, a moment later she heard several latches release and the front hatch fell away, opened from the outside. A large mechanical claw reached inside and grabbed hold of the injured dragoness by her uniform, dragging her out with painful disregard for her injured state. The raucous sounds of gunfire and explosions assaulted her ears, which no longer enjoyed their earlier protections against such abrasive noises that the suit had provided.

“You know,” Shrike gasped out through pained cackles, “I heard that ‘pulling out’ wasn’t a ‘safe’ practice; and now I see why!”

“You are injured,” Cassandra stated through the external speaker of her battle armor.

“I prefer to think of it as: ‘my health experienced a downward revision’.” The ivory dragoness insisted through gritted teeth.

“I must get you to medical treatment.”

“Just make sure they’re in-network! I have an HMO!”

The battle-suited Elemental hesitated briefly, “...I don’t know what that means.”

“Don’t worry about it; it was funny. Trust me.” Shrike grinned. Then she descended into a fit of coughs which ended up with a few flecks of crimson spittle coming out of her mouth near the end. The dragoness stared at the blood stains on her uniform sleeve and winced. “That’s less funny…”

Without another word, Shrike was whisked off the battlefield towards the DropShip and the field hospital that the ship’s medic had put together in the ‘Steed Bay. The actual clinic on the ship had been damaged during the crash, depriving it of power. Combined with the influx in patients, the dappled gray earth pony had elected to move his operation―and all of his patients―to the wider confines of the BattleSteed hangar. Assisting him with the treatment of the injured were various technicians in between their checks of the heavily jury-rigged power systems and those who were slightly less injured than the rest.

Cassandra jetted inside the bay and landed in one of the more open areas. She stayed just long enough to put her burden down on the floor and inform the nearest pony that Shrike was badly hurt. Then she took her leave and returned to the battle outside. It wasn’t long before somepony managed to get the medical officer’s attention so that Shrike could be properly evaluated.

“Kidney’s punctured,” the stallion mumbled after he managed to get a look at her wound. He waved over one of his assistants. A dark blue unicorn mare hobbled over, nursing what looked to be a splinted hind leg. “Pack this! Hold pressure. I’m going to get some clotting agents and sutures. I think I can close it up and stop most of the bleeding…” He wandered out of earshot, dancing around the see of other patients on the floor of the ‘Steed Bay.

The unicorn pressed her hoof hard into the small of Shrike’s back in an effort to staunch the bleeding. The dragoness let out a pained hiss, but tried her best not to squirm away. She grit her teeth and took in a few deep breaths to help steel herself against the intense discomfort, looking around for anything to distract her thoughts. Her ruby eyes inevitably landed on the one patient in the bay who stood out among all the others: the purple alicorn lying unconscious in a corner of the bay.

Apparently the princess had been injured somehow while they were coming around the moon, and had been unconscious since then. Which was a shame, because the dragoness figured they could sure have used her help during the fight. Things weren’t going very well for them. Hopefully they wouldn’t need to hold out for too much longer though.

Shrike glanced down at the cobalt unicorn, “I don’t suppose you’ve heard any updates on when we’re going to be rescued, have you?” The pony blinked up at her in confusion, seeming to not understand the question. “You know, the distress signal that was sent out when all this kicked off? They were working on building a new transmitter or whatever…”

Comprehension dawned on the mare’s face, but it was an expression mixed with sorrow and loss. “...It never got sent,” she said softly. Now it was Shrike’s turn to look confused. “One of the first places that got hit was the bridge,” the unicorn explained, “and when it did…High Gai―” The mare’s words caught in her throat suddenly, her eyes darting towards the far side of the ‘Steed Bay. Shrike followed her gaze to the unoccupied BattleSteed stall which had been converted into a temporary morgue. The unicorn’s gaze was directed at a bloody sheet covering a body. One which had a golden yellow hoof poking out from beneath it.

“The comms system was entirely destroyed.” The mare resumed once she’d cleared her throat and found her voice again. “We never sent a rescue message. No help is coming…”

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