Keeping Hope Aloft

Keeping Hope Aloft

By: Silbern

For every person in the world that get's pushed down in the mud, pulled through gravel or pinned to a wall with a weapon to their throat; there is hope. It is often a small thing, Hope. Can inspire one to do tasks that make others simply falter in the shadows of frustration and despair. Hope can also push back that cloud of despair like a torch in a dark cave. Some say hope is nothing but something foolish to reach out and grasp. I laugh at the very notion. If you have to reach for Hope then you already lost it.

To say that once you lose hope you can never regain it, is also an oxymoron. You spend your entire life grasping onto Hope even if it's just a tiny flicker from a fleeting moment of joy. That's why I've always loved the Human race. We have the ability to push another into the mud and then place our boot on the back of their head so as to drown them in the very sludge that they squirm in. Some do it with a smile. That, however, is nothing compared to what we are really great at. What about that girl who even though she is surrounded by her friends, all of high society standings, still stops to give the rest of her lunch to the homeless man sleeping beside a dumpster?

It's Hope. Genuine Hope. The feeling of that maybe if, for one solitary moment, I can pass on even a flicker of my hope, that this person my slam a fist into the ground out of defiance and whisper:

“I'm not done yet,”

I want to hear that whisper.

“I'm not done yet,” I awaken to my true feelings. “I'm not done,”

Celestia fell to the floor with a sickening thud as she tried her hardest once more to rise from her defeated position within the royal chambers of Canterlot. Through her unfocused vision and aching head she noticed her crown laying idle to her side. Even from here position of pain she noticed the few scuff marks it received in the blast that maimed her.

“Oh how things have turned against you, dear Celestia!” a maniacal cackle entered into Celestia's mind like a venomous snake. The Sun Goddess turned, much to her pained discomfort, to see a tall sleek creature that held many holes through her legs and lithe hair. The thin buggy wings and carapace could only describe her as the Changeling Queen, the Marauder of the Badlands; Queen Chrysalis. “I've been waiting a very, ve~ry, long time for this exact moment. It's been over three hundred years since we've last been in Canterlot en mass. Do the Moon Tulips still grow by the North-Western wall?”

Celestia ignored the question as she grimaced with pain. The blast not only drained Celestia of her magical reserve but only left little for her to survive on. The amount of magic stolen from her would have killed a lesser Unicorn with slight ease. Much like a leech draining an absurd amount of blood from its victim. The Goddess tried no matter the pain however to channel her magic at the base of her horn. One final plea.

“Oh? You still have some fight in you?” Chrysalis asked, delighted with the chance of showing the amassed crowd that their ruler was now truly defeated. “There is no hope for you or your ponies, Celestia. I will drain every last ounce of energy from your body and your city! Not even your silly Elements of Harmony will stop me from my ascension!”

“There is always hope,” Celestia muttered moments before discharging all the remaining energy she had into one last spell.

Chrysalis prepared for the offensive spell but was mildly surprised to see the colourful flare shoot out through the window only to explode like a fire cracker outside. It took moments for the Queen to register Celestia's last move only moments after that to burst out laughing. “A Signal spell? Who in Equestria can dare defeat me now? You pleas for aid shall go unanswered and unheard, Celestia!”

“I'm not done yet, Chrysalis,” Celestia muttered through grit teeth as she forced some blood to be coughed up onto the marble floor. “I'm not done,”

The large scaled creature gave out a rather vicious roar only a few meters from where a solitary man stood with arms on his sides. Even when the rest of the ground crew gave up on the Dragon's harness, the intelligent creature persisted. A venomous cloud of smoke trailed loosely from it's nostrils as slitted eyes gazed down at it's very small obstacle.

“Are you finished yet?” the irritated voice filtered through the gas mask as two dark blue eyes narrowed right back at the colossal beast. It's jet black scales easily reflected the sunlight from the sun that shone high above these Afghanistan lands. Even the average soldier knew to give the beast wide berth lest he be squished with nary a bother to the behemoth.

“The Harness itches,” the Dragon pouted. That's correct. Pouted. “Micky didn't clean it,”

The gas masked man gave an irritated growl. The large, darkened leather trench coat whipped with the wind as he turned sharply to face the entire crew. “Corporal McMatthews, double time please,” he called with a quick tap of his section radio PTT switch on his belt.

“Yes, sir!” the younger man, no later then twenty, scrambled over and snapped to the position of attention.

“Missing something?”

The dragon gave a huff of his smoke as the young man that sported an almost bald head of dark chestnut hair jumped at. Instantly his hand jumped for his Gas Mask bag which he only stumbled at again. For an agonizing minute the entire crew watched as the fresh Dragoneer finally snapped back to attention with a fresh olive dabbed gas mask on his face. The clear face shield left little protection from the taller man to see the beads of sweat starting to fall rapidly around his eyebrows. His uniform was clean and very presentable with the British flag proudly displayed on his left shoulder.

“You're a bag of hammers, Corporal,” the man simply shook his head. “You've been around Elongath for over four months now and you still have the shakes. Pray tell, are you afraid that he will gobble you up?”

The younger man was silent for a few moments. “No, sir!”

A huff of smoke washed over the Corporal which elicited a sudden rigid posture. He didn't squeal though; always look on the bright side. The smoke eventually vanished with the strong wind as the dragon rolled on his side exposing his softer belly to the Sun.

“You're on bath duty today, by yourself. Next time you should wash all of his equipment before trying to irritate the big guy,” The man with the tinted gas mask nodded as the Corporal gave his salute in response before trudging off to find the large bucket and mop. There was a lot of scrubbing to do and the mocking he was receiving from his fellows was little help. An odd amount of middle fingers were shown for a celebration.

“Captain Fayn,” a loud voice echoed as the mention Captain twirled on the spot easily whipping his coat around to reveal an actual uniform underneath for only a moment. The good Captain watched as a older man wearing some Oakley sunglasses approached with hands grasping behind his back. It didn't last long though as Fayn quickly rose his arm to salute to his superior. “At ease, Captain. I've come to inspect Elongath before her patrol outside of the wire,”

Fayn watched the Colonel for only a moment before turning to the Dreadnought Dragon, Heavy weight class, before them. Elongath had to be one of the heaviest weight of his breed East of Nova Scotia, Canada. It was an odd proceeding when the breeders back on good ole North American soil found a single egg nestled in the Louisiana swamp. Many were just happy to find another Dreadnought breed Egg a few months before hatching especially with the Taliban turning up the heat after yet again another failed negotiation.

“Is she ready to fly?” the Colonel asked as he slowly passed his subordinate.

“Elongath is a Male, sir,”

“I don't care as long as it fills out it's roll in our AO today,” the Colonel repeated as he continued to gaze the beast over. It quickly became apparent to every single crewman that this old fart simply couldn't think of anything better to do.

Mickey yelped for a second as a rumble was felt through the concrete below him which only meant one thing. Elongath apparently had heard quite enough as he rolled over, leaving a gap for the poor Dragoneer who was washing his back left leg. Lower his large muzzle to spot the high ranking officer, Elongath could only snort. “Have you come to pester me once more, Colonel?”

Fayn groaned as he put his masked head in one hand.

“I am the fastest Dreadnought breed in NATO; proven records. I've been hit by a surface-to-air missile and lived with only minor scarring. I have a full, experienced crew and well fed. Is there anything else you need?” the Dragon begun to dive into more exploits to only be stopped by the Colonel raising a hand.

“You Dragoneers may have more slack around here but that doesn't mean you get to avoid protocol! Address me as a proper officer, you beast!” the greying Officer bellowed but instead of any verbal answer he was awaiting for, he simply noticed the Captain move slowly away from his side. “Captain Fayn, I demand you place this beast under more constraints while inside Airfield!”

Fayn didn't even mutter a word but continually backed away much like the rest of the crew did.

The Colonel was about to bellow once more until he witnessed a rather large shadow pass over him to the point where he could count individual claws that were extended to the sides. Turning slowly to find the Dragon on his haunches, the Colonel began to slowly back away himself. “You wouldn't dare,”

Oh, he did. Elongath dropped down with enough force that the Colonel fell on his rump letting out a pained groan. Muffled laughs erupted from the Crew until the Colonel gave a glare in their direction. “All of you will be court marshaled for this!” He threatened as he walked off in angry, ignoring salutes and such. It was a usual act with Dragoneers when mixing duty with other branches of the Military. Some big wig with a few leaves on his collar suddenly think they can boss an intelligent creature that weighs over fifteen tons.

Ignoring the whole dramatic display, Captain Fayn went back to business. “Sharpshooters, I want a ammunition and rifle inspection in twenty! Gunners, barrel checks if you would! Karrlson! Recheck all your gear. I don't want another mishap like the one in Africa; one too many bullet holes for my liking,”

Karrlson, Norwegian, Combat Engineer, tapped his hat in respect. “Aye, Captain,”

“Midwingman! Get the Harness and Rig ready to get mounted on Elongath. Mickey, make sure that all the straps are ready to go, no rips or tares, roger?”

Mickey waved from his spot then gave a imaginary tip of a hat. “Aye, sir!”

“Would you be so kind as to escort yourself aboard in due time, Doctor?” Fayn called out although his back was turned to his crew; hands rubbing Elongath's muzzle with affection.

“Ja, Ja,” The obvious German, Dragon Biologist answered with flippant enthusiasm as his gaze was focused on the paperback book held in his hands. The name of Günther stencilled on his chest.

Captain Fayn stood a bit more relaxed as he felt a large pressure nuzzle into his side. The warmth radiated of the muzzle of the great creature. A single hand began to pet the Dragon as a low, satisfied hum filed out of the Dragon's throat. It was a bond that was almost impossible to break without including death. He was a Dragon Rider; Aviator. As soon as Elongath was born from his shell in Atlanta, it was his destiny. Every waking day was spent together and soon, after extensive training and growth, Elongath soon had an entire crew to himself.

It was a bond a few shared in a sense. They are Brothers and Sisters but also comrades in arms. It often got to the point that the entire crew would sleep together with the Dragon. Just leaning against his stomach provided enough heat for even the coldest Afghan nights as long as you had a decent blanket. His rhythmic breathing at night has even become a relaxer for many as noise died off to the point where everyone would simply fall asleep to simple Dragon purring.

Those are the good times however. The many dangers in the Military service were many as Anti-aircraft guns are an ever present danger to such a slower moving creature compared to fighter jets and the like. Missile lock-ons however were one of a few saving graces that Dragons possess. Due to the rather mysterious scales that cover most of the body, it almost acted like a stealth plane's hull. Radar just seemed to miss it at no matter the altitude. Scientist still to this day are eluded from the fact that Dragon's can do slow formation flying and not a single blip on the radar. Only heat seeking missiles ever seem to find their mark and only if the Dragon decided to show it's softer belly to the attacker.

This however was the life of a Dragoneer. The married life is difficult to maintain as a soldier but when you are a Dragoneer, it worsens. When you marry a Dragoneer, you marry the Dragon as well. Straight from the hatching process, the Aviator is selected to be joined with the Dragon. If the dragon refuses to be harnessed from the selected Aviator then the Dragon will either choose another of his liking or try to be free within the wilds. It is rare for Dragons to choose the more feral life considering their intelligence straight from the hatching. They are given food and shelter along with a single human to accompany them. Not a bad deal, or at least that is what Elongath thought when gazing at a younger Lieutenant Fayn back at his hatching.

If only every day could be as simple as reading to a young Dragon Hatchling.

“Gunners, ready!”

“Sharpshooters, ready!”

“Midwingmen, ready!”

“Armourers, Ready!”

“Medic, Ready!”

“Ground Crew, ready!”

Captain Fayn nodded his head as he received the roll call from his crew. He sat at the base of Elongath's neck so he could speak easily to the dragon and call out orders with the best field of view. It left little for protection but it also was necessary in navigation when it came to fighting other Dragons. All Fayn ever wore was his heavy coat to negate the wind and a flak jacket mostly because the top brass wouldn't let him fly without it. What the brass didn't know was that the Captain removed the very plates that were going to protect him essentially making it a layer of fabric protection.

“Elongath, test the Rig please?” Fayn called out as he patted the side of Elongath's neck.

“I shall, Lucas,” Elongath acknowledged as he beat his large wings a few times until he was standing upon his two back legs. From there he begun to turn and shake himself in hopes to find any faulty equipment or uncomfortable places. Giving the Rig a few more shakes the mighty Dreadnaught fell back onto all fours. “All is well,”

“Thank you, Friend,” Lucas Fayn called back before turning his head to gaze back at the crew on the top Rig. The top level held the ten man section of Sharpshooters. Each armed with 7.62 carbines to deploy accurate and deadly results that often meant the death of separated Infantry or enemy Dragon crew members. Below them was the main deck that sat securely on Elongath's back. It held the Medical team, Armourers and half of the Midwingmen. The main deck is also where many of the crews supplies are stored. Climbing down the sides of Elongath, you reach the Bottom post; aptly named. Here is where the two 7.62 Machine Guns are manned for the most devastating Air-to-Ground support. Along the two gun crews are the rest of the Midwingmen and Ground Crew who do everything from bomb runs to sleeping on long flights. Every Woman and Man in the crew did his or her part. For if the Dragon was to die or the Captain slain, then the crew couldn't help but follow.

A Dragon who has lost his Captain was a very, very dangerous situation.

“Lieutenant Chevalier, radio command. Elongath is ready to take off,” Fayn spoke through his headset as he watched Elongath paw at a portable toilet station with amusement.

“Understood, sir,” came back a female voice

The screams from within the small cubicle elicited a small round of laughter as a Marine stumbled out with his pants around his ankles. Elongath howled with laughter which would wake up most of the large base.

“Really? Come on, Elongath,” The Marine grumbled before picking up his magazine and re entered the confines of his happy place. His oddly smelling, happy place.

“Captain,” the French accent thick through the headset. “We have the green light for lift off. We are tasked with the Americans today along with Decius and Captain Turner,”

Elongath let a happy rumble escape from his mouth as he gave a slight shake. “It has been a while since we have flown with Decius! Do you think he and Markus are doing well?” he asked with renewed enthusiasm for the flight ahead.

Fayn simply patted his friend in the hopes to calm the large creature down. “I bet they are doing just great. Last time I heard from them was when we switched posts with Villius and Van Haanrath's crew. Apparently the Copper Top missed most of the mountain fighting due to leave,”

Decius was a Copper Top hailing from Arizona, USA. Their naturally sand coloured scales were an easy match to the environment but their true strength lays in speed. Their Light-Class frame didn't allow for heavy fighting but there was no better scouts that hailed from North America. Sharp eyes and even sharper flying often allowed for quick escapes in case they were spotted or easy manoeuvring through dangerous terrain. Competition between the French, Dutch and Americans were common place when they pitted their Dragons in simple races. It also served to boost morale within the Dragoneer Corps, no matter the Nationality.

“Elongath, when you're ready,” Fayne informed his friend as he threw his arm up to warn the rest of the crew of immediate lift off.

The Dragon only responded with large flaps from his wings which blasted the surrounding area with large gusts of wind. The Dragon and crew slowly gained altitude as more of the base came into view. Rows and rows of large tents were in view along with Kandahar off in the distance. Elongath continued to gain altitude until the wind easily allowed the large creature to coast most of the way North. Far below them they spotted cars passing by on the highway and even a few mountain goat leaping to get away from the large Predator.

Only a few hours passed as the crew watched the mountains eagerly awaiting the simplest sign of danger. It wasn't until their gazes eventually spotted the Forward Operating Base only a kilometre away from the mountain range. Fayn could only roll his shoulders and try to stretch his legs but flying often left one sitting for long periods of time.

“Lucas,” Elongath murmured as the Dragon slowed his approach towards the FOB. “I smell blood,”

“Contact Port! Contact Port!” blared over the radio as both Lucas and Elongath turned their heads to spot what seemed to be a flock of small creatures flying over the hill tops. Their advance directly intervening with Elongath.

“Captain, we got Swarmers to Elongath's Port,” Chevalier's voice channelled through Lucas' earpiece quickly. “Orders?”

“Miss Chevalier, radio in the contact report to Command,” Lucas ordered while holding onto one of the harnesses handles as Elongath banked left to engage the approaching Swarm of smaller dragons. The numbers of the crew-less Dragons numbered greater then thirty at least as the Captain tried to get an accurate number. Swarmers were deadly in large packs mostly because they easily overwhelmed their targets. They were inexpensive to breed which made them perfect for the Taliban. They often used them to target patrols or lone Dragons. More then a few evacuation helicopters were brought down from the Swarm of scales and claws. “Prepare for boarders!”

It was often a strange thing to see in such a modern day where a man would pull a sword from his hip but when the creature was often too fast to hit from afar, a side arm and sword worked just as nicely. More experienced crews had more then just swords as the years went by in the Dragoneer Corp. Multiple side arms and close quarter weapons were Acquired. Karrlson himself unlatched a pump shotgun from his kit as he pulled back the slide to chamber a fresh shell. Midwingmen brought out their own swords and pistols as a nervous silence filled the crew. On the Low Deck, both Machine gun teams slid their respective weapons along the oiled rail until their sights fell upon the approaching swarm.

“1000 meters and closing, Captain,” Chevalier spoke through the crew Comms.

“Hold your fire, Lieutenant,” Lucas ordered as he drew his own sabre. The blade shone brightly as it reflected the Sun's gaze with polished ease. It was passed down from his old instructor only a few days before he passed away. The old French Captain engraved a simple message on the blade which still held true to the Elongath crew to this day.

Tenir Ferme.

“Get ready, Elongath. When they breach your range try to widen your spray to maim as many as you can,” Lucas ordered with ease moments before letting a long breath loose from his lungs. He feared for Decius and Markus life knowing full well that if they were hit by surprise then it'd be extremely difficult to fight that many off. Knowing Decius however, they'd have a hard time just trying to catch up to the Copper Top. “Steady,” Lucas mentioned over the Comms for the Crew to hear with commanding confidence only born from experience.

“800 meters, Captain,” Chevalier's voice filled the earpiece once more.

“Machine Guns, fire!” Lucas ordered with a loud shout as he threw his sword arm in the direction of the enemy. Only a second passed before the air was disturbed with the loud crack of gun fire as multiple projectiles filled the air. Everyone watched as the Tracers flew off into the distance, ashamedly coming too short of their mark.

Chevalier didn't waste a second as she ordered the two American Gunner teams to adjust fire from their last twenty round burst. This was met with a much deadlier effect as the light Swarmers begun to explode in red mists due to the projectile piercing their rather poor excuse for scale armour. The Gunners couldn't help but grin as they gave another loud burst towards the flying bastards with glee, trying their best to counter wind and the decreasing distance. Loud cracks of prolonged fire continued to erupt from the lower deck as multiple foes fell from the sky. Cheering erupted from the crew even with their gas masks still held tightly to their faces. Swords were raised in the air in a unison of cheer.

“I'm ready, Lucas,” Elongath announced as the Dragon pulled up slightly to halt his forward momentum.

“Let 'em have it, Elongath,” Lucas responded, hiding a smile behind his own mask. Feeling the large gust of air file into his body from between his legs, Lucas was about to warn the crew until Chevalier's voice filled the comm channel.

The French officer noticed quickly when the stomach bands expanded above her which easily signalled the imminent disperse of the most deadly weapon at their disposal. “Make sure your Masks are secured tightly! Elongath is about to fire!” her warning reached across the comm as every single hand went to their masks to check the straps and did checks to make sure the seal was unbroken.

Lucas patted the Elongath's side once to signal the crew that they were ready. A moment later the Dragon forced all of his breath out along with a long stream of bubbling green liquid that already began to smoke from coming into contact with the oxygen around it. If the 7.62 millimetre guns from the Low Deck made a mess of the crowd before them, the acid spray was down right inhumane. The enemy Dragons writhed in pain as the very scales upon their bodies were quickly being eaten away by the deadly, liquid acid. The poor souls that had their eyes open when assaulted soon found their very vision being eaten away. All of it was a horrid experience to witness but the crew now had another problem as the remaining ten Swarmers that managed to avoid all the attacks descended upon the crew in haste.

Smoke billowed from Elongath's nose as it easily washed over the crew. It was a grim remark at the first time a Dreadnaught was to be harnessed and crewed. The very fumes that the crew breathed in not only ate away at the soft lung tissue but the throat too. A gruesome experience that paved the way for Aviators of the future.

All of this however was left at the back of Lucas' mind as he heard a cry from behind him. One of the Sharpshooters was being yanked from his position only to have his harness strap connecting him to the Top Deck keep him from being carried off. His crew mates reacted quickly as multiple Carbine rifles were levelled at the offending creature. It's narrowed eyes angrily stared at the crew for only a moment before being killed before even hitting the ground far below them. Quickly, hands were pulling the injured man back aboard as a call for a Medic was alarmed.

Chevalier had about the same luck as she swung her own sword that was only deflected from the Swarmer's claws. What the Swarmer didn't expect however was the wide swipe from a Midwingman's Machete that caught the intruder in the fore leg. The Machete did its gruesome work as the creature bellowed in pain. Chevalier didn't waste a single moment as she gathered her composure and made an accurate swipe for the exposed neck tissue. Smiling wildly at her success, she witnessed the creature flail in pain until a Midwingmen stepped forward with a 9mm sidearm and begun to dump its lethal cargo deep into the Dragon's head.

Lucas ducked low as claws grazed over his coat barely giving the Captain enough room to avoid the Swarmer's grasp. Elongath, annoyed that the Swarmer would even dare attack his friend and Captain, waited patiently for the Swarmer to make another pass before stretching his neck out in quick fashion. The snatch between his massive set of serrated teeth left little to the imagination as the force was enough to separate limbs from the main body. The whole attack seemed over as the little amount of Swarmers began to retreat towards their initial attack vector.

“Low Deck secured, Captain!” Chevalier reported through the earpiece only moments before a loud shotgun blast echoed from the main deck. Lucas turned to see Karrlson kick the dead Swarmer off the railing before pumping the action which ejected a hot, used shell.

“Main Deck is secured, sir,” Karrlson reported.

“We have a minor wounded, Lucas”  Günther's voice came alive over the channel as a moment's pause came over the crew. “Minor laceration but he's stable. It will need some stitches when we get a chance to land, Ja?” his explanation soothed Lucas' worries as a joined breath of relief came over the crew.

“I'm sorry, sir,” a pained voice came over the Comms as Lucas knew it was Corporal Michael Winchester, Sharpshooter. “Bastard came from the main deck and tried to fly off with me,” his explanation wasn't needed, Lucas knew, but it was a comforting thought that the crew were that loyal to him and Elongath that they felt like they needed to explain themselves. It was as if they needed to present him their sin of failure. Lucas knew Michael was no failure though, or the boy would never be in his crew to begin with.

“Think nothing of it, Mr. Winchester. These bastards are kings of boarding actions if ever there was a Breed for it,” Lucas responded quickly. “Thank you, Doctor. We'll do a quick scouting mission around the FOB then descend to assess damage. Lieutenant! Get Command on the phone and give them a SITREP,”

“Yes, sir,” her voice was crisp, even with the accent, as she accessed her separate radio.

“Are you ok, Elongath?” Lucas spoke as ran his hands along the jagged edges of his friend's scales.

“Swarmers taste horrible,” the Dragon responded before spitting at the ground far below in disgust.

“I bet they do,” Captain Fayn responded with a small laugh himself before spotting a sharp bright flash of light in the distance. “What in the name of-”

Celestia watched with growing despair as her last ditch spell simply fizzed and cracked but nothing happened other wise. The small little flicker of hope that resided within her started to die as her vision was soon tinted with green, as she felt with great pain, that her body was levitating. The aches echoed through her limbs as the vision of the grand chambered shifted before her until two beady eyes stared maliciously back at her.

“You're hopeless,” Chrysalis laughed with delight as she stomped her hooves in giddy pleasure. “I think this will make a grand throne room for my Swarm! Maybe hang up some nice tapestries revelling in my grand victory over the great Celestia,” she began to rant as images of a reformed Canterlot floated within her thoughts.

“Oh and look who will be keeping us company? The lovely Princess Cadence!” Chrysalis tickled the chin of the smaller dishevelled  Alicorn. Cadence simply tried to move away from the Changeling Queen until the goo that kept her firm in place restricted Cadence furthermore. “Such a lively one too! You two will keep the Swarm very much alive for decades to come!”

“You'll never get away with this, Chrysalis!” a voice interrupted the Queen as eyes shifted to the entrance where Twilight Sparkle, Prodigy of Princess Celestia, stood surrounded by both her friends and many more Changelings. “I'll find a way to stop you!”

“You foolish, little insignificant Pony. Do you honestly think, in your current predicament, that you have any say of how the future is to be viewed?” Chrysalis mentioned before laughing at the so called Elements of Harmony. The average looking mares were nothing but play things and food for the Swarm now. Chrysalis was going to rub some more insults deeper into the emotional wound of the Mares before her until a loud crackle of energy alerted her to the window.

Celestia, aflame with pain, turned her head to gaze out the window to see a very small black spherical object. The black void the object with held began to grow in expanse. Soon the pitch black canvas covered an easy one hundred meter diameter.

Chrysalis turned with anger towards Celestia. “What spell did you use?” the Queen demanded but Celestia only gave the Changeling a small smirk. A hoof smacked against the side of Celestia's muzzle which caused the Princess' view to darken. “That spell was no ordinary flare spell! What did you use?” the Queen demanded again.

“I'm not done yet,” Celestia muttered before a loud echoing roar came from the void within the sky.

“I can't escape its pull, Lucas!” Elongath desperately tried to beat the gravitational pull that came over both the Dragon and his crew. With each mighty flap of his wings he tried to gain distance but it was starting to become easily apparent that whatever that hole is, nothing was going to leave. “I can't keep this up much longer! My wings are starting to get tired,”

Every human aboard Elongath's Rig held on for dear life as the strange pull that was brought down on them was almost unbearable. Luckily everything was latched down to avoid any lost kit or ammunition, not that it seemed to matter with that increasingly frightening thought of being eaten up by a Black Hole.

“There's no escaping it then,” Lucas admitted as he held onto Elongath's harness and neck for all his worth. “It was an honouring being both your friend and Captain, Elongath,” Lucas spoke as he tried to stroke the side of Elongath's neck affectionately, possibly for the last time in his life.

“Of all the Humans on this planet, I'm glad my Aviator was you Lucas. You've been a good friend ever since I first hatched,” Elongath responded as he bent his head around to slightly nuzzle Lucas' head. It was also at that moment the Dragon let things take it's coarse. His wings were drawn to his side as all the fight within the large, black creature left. He, Lucas and all the crew were pulled through the void with nary a scrap of evidence left behind to mark their step in history.

It was dark for what seemed like a long time as no noise was heard. Nothing could ever simulate the amount of emptiness that was felt by every living being within the void's grasp. Lucas expected to feel extremely cold but was oddly warm as if sitting by a fireplace in the winter months. All of this was shattered as a bright light shone over the Earth born beings. In mere moments the feeling of normal gravity feel over the large Dragon as the sun shone down on them once more.

“Sacre bleu,” Chevalier was heard over the crew Comms as she regained her footing first only to spy her surroundings.

Elongath was mute for many moments as he evened out his flight path and eagerly stretched his neck this way and that to examine the rather vivid changes in scenery. The large mountain range was replaced with a single large mountain and surrounding it was rolling hills of bright green grass and clear rivers. It was as if Earth was given a rather colourful splash of paint. Refreshing if anything.

“Roll call,” Lucas ordered through his Comms only moments after shaking his own head as if to shake away the images before him.

“Sharpshooters, ready,”

“Gunners, good to go,”

“Armourer, aye,”

“Midwingmen, ready,”

“Ground Crew, all green,”

“Medic Team, Scheiße,”

Lucas only nodded his head to the full roll call before examining his surroundings more carefully.

“Lucas, look!” Elongath announced as he turned his head to gaze down at the mountainside to his Port. Lucas followed his gaze to see what seemed to be a Castle along with a small city outside. The odd thing about the whole thing was how it just seemed anchored to the side of the Mountain with little to no support. The designs also seemed pretty distant to what the crew was used too in Afghanistan.

“Sir, we have incoming from the settlement,” Chevalier informed as all eyes shifted to see small black specks approaching from a distance away. “I'm getting a look at them through my binoculars, sir, they look like,” Chevalier's voice caught off from the crew Comms which caught the Captain's attention.

“Look like what, Lieutenant?” Lucas asked until a bolt of green energy fizzled past his mask, mere inches from a direct hit.

Elongath instantly went on the offensive as he folded his wings and dived towards the attackers. What was once an aloft Dragon was now a Biological battering Ram that the strange, foreign creatures seemed to realize pretty quickly. Their changes of directions came but not all were so lucky as more then a few became crushed under both claw and sudden force pressed against their much frailer bodies. Bones and carapace crack as they fall from the skies.

“Sharpshooters, open fire!” Lucas ordered as Elongath deployed his wings to stop his decent a few hundred meters above the large Castle below. The Carbines cracked to life as projectiles flew from the Top Deck. The first few shots missed but when one of the small, bug like creatures turned to face the crew, it lost most of its brains. Together the entire team of experienced shooters begun to wittle away at the enemy.

“We have incoming from the city limits!” Chevalier's shouts invade Lucas' train of thought as he turned in his harness to see the Swarm of creatures aiming directly for the large Dragon.

“Any time, Elongath,” Lucas asked politely which he knew a wide grin graced the Dragon's muzzle. Detecting possible boarding action once again, Lucas pulled his blade from it's sheath and waved it in the air above him. “Prepare your selves!”

Elongath didn't need much time as he released his deadly contents on the incoming swarm below them. If the Swarmers were a miserable sight after Elongath's breath attack, then these lot were just desecrated. Their wings lasted less then five seconds as many of them plummetted to the city beneath them. It easily begun to rain the creatures as Lucas watched many of them sliding off roofs or landing in a mess upon the roads. What ever was left of the swarm was soon fired upon by the Machine Gun crews with deadly efficiency.

It was a massacre.

“Call them off!” Chrysalis screeched in pain as she watched from the window as her children fell lifelessly to the ground. The creature was obviously a large Dragon but it was dressed in a weird fashion and sporting creatures unknown to her. Their weapons tore through carapace and toughen muscle with ease and they deafened the sky! “Call them off, Celestia!”

Chrysalis turned in extreme sadness only to find to her grief that Cadence was free and in touch with her loving husband, Shining Armour.

“No!” she screeched but it was far too late. The magic entwined both of them which effectively cut the Changeling Queen from her strength. The residual blast caught her and with enough magical force that the very marble below her hooves was lost to her. In a bright flash it was over.

The Nightmare that was the Changelings rule over Ponies has been halted and the Princesses saved. A good day in anyone's books.

The day however was not finished as Celestia rose to her hooves with magical aid from her protege, Twilight Sparkle. Together they went to the window to spot the massive Dragon slowly coming to land upon the large wall of the Castle. Celestia was almost worried that the walls couldn't handle that much weight. The gust the Dragon kicked up was enormous but the Mares held their ground. When the large grey membrane wings folded back to his side, Celestia managed a better view of the creatures.

Stumbling out into the large courtyard with the rest of the Ponies, Celestia waited a safe fifty meters away. The large Dragon lowered his head and gazed down upon the Ponies. Celestia knew that if the Dragon wanted to, it could swallow her whole with a maw like that. Knowing that it has yet to attack was something of a comfort.

“My name is Princess Celestia of Equestria. I welcome you to my Captial although the timing was very fortunate for us,” Celestia greeted her new guest with a smile as she tried to hide the residual she still felt. Now all she could hope for is a language that they could both speak to avoid any communication barrier.

“Greetings, Celestia of Equestria,” The Dragon's voice easily overpowered Celestia's more timid and respectful tone. “I am Elongath of,” the Dragon paused for a moment as Celestia was wondering if he was simply trying to choose his next words. “Of Earth,”

“That will be quite enough, Elongath,” another voice came from the Dragon's direction but nobody appeared to claim it until a figure slid down the side of the muscled fore leg. Celestia examined the heavily clothed figure and noticed many interesting features as the movable digits upon their fore legs. “My name is Captain Lucas Fayn of the 23rd Dragoneers Corp. I can take a hint and say we are no longer on 'Earth', are we?” the Captain questioned as the tinted mask kept what Celestia thought was a respectful gaze to the speaker.

Celestia let out a low sigh. “No, Captain, you are in fact not even in your solar system I would guess,” Celestia answered truthfully if her spell worked the way it was supposed too.

“Oh boy,” the male voice came out of the mask in mild frustration.

Elongath let out a low chuckle. “The Colonel is going to be pissed,”