"Consarnit!" Applejack hissed as the Sturzstrom that had dropped them off at grid coordinates Kilo-Niner, otherwise called Forward Base Alpha, rolled into the vehicle bay to pick up a fresh load of troops.

Twilight shook her head, snorting in a mixture of amusement and frustration. Vigilant's words had amounted to a mathematician's answer, one that was logically correct but was of no use otherwise. To elaborate, by the time preparations were finished, Alpha would be almost deserted until reinforcements arrived, and it would take at least four hours for the nearest units from Baltimare to get to Ponyville.

"We could help in other ways," Fluttershy said. "I could help heal the wounded. Rarity and Twilight can organize the, um, things going on. We don't really need to rush into combat."

Fluttershy unfurled her armor's manipulator arms, displaying the wide array of grippers mounted on the ends to prove her point. She used a similar set of arms to treat animals. Twilight found the way the arms moved a bit unnerving, but they did their job quite well despite that.

Civilians gawked at the armored mares as they walked into the base proper.

"Hey, isn't that Princess Twilight?" one of the gawkers said.

The stallion beside him squinted. "Hey, yeah! Princess Twilight's here! She's fighting for us!"

The crowd murmured in assent. Word spread that the Mane Six (it wasn't public knowledge that the Bearers were incomplete) were on the field and ready to set things right. Civilians bowed, thanking Twilight and her friends for their service. Some of them took pictures while Elements helped the soldiers corral the growing crowd into the space reserved for refugees headed to the bunkers.

The PA system crackled to life, reminding refugees to proceed to the bunkers in an orderly manner. The announcement gave Twilight an idea.

She found Commanding Officer Steel Wall seated in front of a tactical display table and whispered in his ear, "Captain, would you mind if I borrowed the PA and some cameras?"

Captain Wall nodded, catching her drift. "Not at all, Your Highness. Celestia knows we need a morale boost, and you're just the mare to give it."

"Thank you, Captain." Twilight gave him a small bow and flew off, making a quick inspection of the base.

Assorted variants of Chariot light trucks, dozens of Sturzstrom infantry fighting vehicles, Tephra mortar carriers, old Steadfast medium tanks, their younger Stalwart brothers, Shatterer self-propelled guns, and one Glacier heavy tank were lined up on the mall parking lot that served as Alpha's vehicle depository. Their crews went through their checklists and drove to their positions. She watched as a convoy of Sturzstroms and Chariots peeled out of the lot and drove into the city.

Refugees crowded around a makeshift processing center, waiting to be loaded onto trucks that would bring them to underground shelters. Soldiers formed into neat formations before marching out of the base in another section of the parking lot. Air Militia circled overhead in their combat exoskeletons, machine guns and light autocannons mounted under their chests, using the mall's rooftop as a landing pad.

She pitched downwards, landing gently on top of a Sturzstrom parked in front of the infantry. She cleared her throat and keyed in the PA system. Cameras locked on to her, beaming the images straight to the broadcasting array, where they were cast out for everypony to watch.

"Fillies and gentlecolts," Twilight said regally, a hint of determination in her voice, "we stand here today in defense of our homes, friends, and families."

Television screens inside the refugee bunkers lit up, showing the princess with spread wings and a determined expression on her face. Mares, stallions, and foals alike stopped to watch. Parents whispered to their children and dried their tears.

The princess was going to save them.

"Many of us may not be coming back. Many of us may not live to rebuild our city. Many of us may never see our children grow up. But let it be known that nopony here has failed to give their utmost in defense of what they love."

Chaplains conducted the services of their respective religions. The zebras and ponies of the Tenebrist sect in the force were especially reverent. It was as if Tenebra, Lady of Dawn and Dusk, was speaking to them in everypony's time of need. They watched the screens, unblinking--attentive.

"Let it be known that nopony here has turned their back on those who need them the most. And let it be known that if this is our final stand, we will have stood together!"

Twilight's horn flared. A pillar of light and darkness lanced into the sky, illuminating the dark clouds before dissipating them to reveal a full moon. The crowds burst into wild cheering. The various militia units chanted their mottos and anthems in a melodious cacophony. A few of the younger soldiers raised their rifles and fired, only to be chastized by their superiors.

"The dragons have shown us their fire. We will show them ours."

The Baserunner command vehicle was abuzz with activity. Officers and their subordinates worked at their stations, trying to make sense of the unfolding developments on the enemy front as militia units moved to their positions in the defense line.

Twilight Sparkle and her friends stood around a map table, the storm of controlled chaos flowing around them as they discussed the plan.

"Okay," Twilight said, pointing to the defensive positions, "the operation is made up of three phases. Phase One is codenamed Onslaught: it will be mainly artillery bombardment and strafing runs from RAM flyers when possible. Rarity and I will be in action during this phase. She’ll help direct the artillery while I organize the Air Militia. Applejack and Rarity will assist in organizing the resupply units. Fluttershy will be working with the base medical personnel."

She then tapped the icon to display Phase Two's force deployment, "Phase Two, codenamed Rising Tide, will commence once enemy forces enter firing range, regardless of Phase One status. Phase Three, Mop Up, is our cleanup phase. Soldiers will scour Ponyville and the surrounding areas for remaining hostiles."

She continued, looking at her friends. "The four of us will be fulfilling auxiliary and support duties in these two phases unless Vigilant gives us the order to pull out. Our transport for the duration will be Sturzstrom callsign Harmony Zero, attached to Beta Troop, 1st Ponyville Armored Cavalry. If we are pulled out, we will be given assignments in Alpha Base facilities."

Twilight passed around the data files listing their assignments during the operation and made sure they were read. She shut off the display table and levitated her weapons into their holders. The Baserunner's rear ramp hinged downwards with a hydraulic whine and thumped on the pavement, allowing the four to disembark.

The violet, barrier-filtered moonlight was darkened and obscured by heavy cloud cover, which would have made it almost impossible to see if not for the floodlights, vehicle headlights, and personal flashlights that illuminated the forward lines. Trenches and barriers were being set up behind minefields, fougasses, rows of razor wire, and the occasional automated turret. The rumble of diesel engines and jet turbines drowned out the constant pounding of dragons on the barrier. It was almost soothing, if not for the fact that the trained ear could make out the sound of breaking glass that accompanied each hit.

A Stalwart Mk.6 thundered past, its turbine engine whining greedily as it emptied the tank's fuel stores. The 120mm rifled gun gleamed dully as the numerous periscopes swiveled in tandem with the machine guns and the CIWS mounted on top of the turret. A large red earth pony sat in the loader's station, checking the ammunition belt of his machine gun.

"Big Mac?" Applejack yelled over the noise.

"Eeyup!" The red stallion waved as the tank drove away, slotting into position at Starswirl Avenue.

A Sturzstrom rolled gently to a halt beside the four mares, the words "Harmony Zero" painted on the bulky vehicle's flank on top of a Neighponese-style mecha. If Twilight recalled, it was from that weird one with the robotic tentacle monsters. She shuddered, wondering what Fluttershy found so appealing about it.

"Ah, Harmony Zero Twilight Eclipse Z." A scrawny white stallion with a shock of blue and red hair sidled up to them, "Best series, Indigo-Mike-Hotel-Oscar."

Fluttershy was the only one who understood the mishmash of words and letters. "Nuh-uh. HZ Everfree Destiny was the best."

Blue-and-Red's heterochromatic eyes bugged out. "Woah, Iron Mare here likes the classics! They were too..."--he coughed--"...intense for my tastes, but eh. To each their own!"

"Anypony mind explainin' what all that was about?" Applejack interjected, raising an eyebrow.

"Just talking shop." Fluttershy and the thin pony said simultaneously, though the orange mare noticed a hint of a flush on her butter-colored friend's cheeks.

Blue-and-Red, suitably distracted from his fanboying, shook his head and held out a hoof. "Oh yeah! Pleasure to meet you all. Name's Max Driveshaft; just call me Max!"

Twilight and the others bumped hooves with him, exchanging greetings and receiving welcomes to the Harmony Zero family. A russet mare with brick-colored hair and gold highlights poked her head out of the open turret hatch.

"That's Bean Cannon," Max leaned in and whispered. "Clerical error when she had her name changed. She's just waiting until she can get another chance."

"I can have that name changed right away, actually," Twilight said. "Well, at least when this operation's done."

The russet mare grinned thankfully and disappeared back into the turret as she remembered something. The four mares and their new friend entered the Sturzstrom through the back hatch as Max got the drift. Bean Cannon had set up a digital camera on a tripod and was motioning for them to squeeze together. The armored mares obliged and folded up their helmets, smiling brightly while their new friends clambered on top.

"Cheese!"

Yelling and screaming over the main battle frequency filtered through her headset, followed by a general announcement over the same channel. Twilight snapped away from her thoughts and focused on the transmission. As she looked at her friends out of the corner of her eyes, she noted that the atmosphere had gone from warm and jovial to grim and dark in an instant.

"Attention all forces, we have a localized breach forming in sector Echo-Niner. Barrier appears to be collapsing. All forces to battle stations."

The ponies threw glances at each other and strapped themselves in. Max revved the engine and thundered down the street. Things weren't going according to plan. Twilight grimaced. I guess I'll have to wing it.

"All right!" Max yelled over the engine's noise. A split second later, he had a better idea and connected into the squad frequency. "Twilight, we're dropping you off at Grid Echo-One-One, rally point for First Ponyville Air squadron. ETA, five minutes."

Twilight double-checked the hardpoints on her armor and steeled herself for what was to come.

Octavia ducked into an alley, making sure that she wasn't followed. While the Hide Me charm she wore would have reduced the chances of that to almost nil, it was best to make sure. She looked around; the dead drop was around here somewhere. The informant could have picked a better place than the back of a dress club, though. She walked around a condom, shaking her head in disgust.

"I swear to Luna,” she muttered, “the next time we get a mission, I’m letting Vinyl do the dirty work.”

Heavy bass blasted out of the building, a sure sign that Vinyl was keeping attention elsewhere. Still, Octavia made sure her silenced pistol was tucked into the holster she wore under her vest. She pressed herself into the shadows.

“Horseapples!” she whispered to herself. A lanky stallion drunkenly burst out of the rear exit with his partner, who hung onto him and tittered girlishly. Octavia was just beginning to get out of sight when the reverse-ecdysiast locked eyes with her.

Octavia froze.

The bar fly’s partner nodded drunkenly and looked away, resuming her tittering.

Octavia sighed in relief; she realized that the choice of venue made a convoluted kind of sense. The informant was known to have a rather perverse hobby, and a place like this would have worked to her favor. To add, she would have only been spotted if the dresser wore the correct counter-charm to her Hide Me, and that meant that the informant had just exited the building.

Octavia found what she was looking for behind a smelly dumpster. Octavia slid the dead drop into a secret compartment in her saddlebags, lifted her phone to send a text to Vinyl, and walked to a corner she had picked out. She turned off her charm and waited.

“Hello, lady, want to help a stallion have a good time?" a passing motorist began to tease. Octavia scolded herself silently; she realized the idiocy of waiting at a corner like this at night. The motorist stopped and walked to her, soliciting for services she did not give.

“Sorry, that isn’t my thing,” the cellist replied. “Maybe you’d have a better time if you used your own mouth instead.”

Thankfully, Octavia didn't have to suffer that sort of malarkey for much longer as Vinyl pulled over in a taxi. She got in quickly, and the taxi sped off, leaving the motorist in a plume of exhaust.

“Oh, thank Celestia.” Octavia slumped into the car seat. “What took you so long?”

“Just another scuffle,” Vinyl said from the front seat. Octavia could see her wipe some blood off her mouth through the rear-view mirror.

“Ugh, again? Did you blow our cover?”

“Don’t worry, Tavi; those guys are hammered." The DJ waved dismissively. "They won’t remember a thing. Anyway, ya got it?”

“Yes, it’s right here,” Octavia took the dead drop out of her bag.

“Coolio.” Vinyl turned to the driver. “Joe, tell the boys we have the package.”

“Roger that…, and my name’s not ‘Joe.’” The driver pressed a switch on the radio and relayed the confirmation to the garage as Octavia passed the drop to him.

Vinyl reclined her seat and smirked. “So…, who was that dude in the chopper--your special somepony?”

Octavia heard the driver snickering from the front and rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Back at the suite, the cellist planned on a quick shower to wash off the smell, some dinner, and a short practice session before she went to sleep. She had just finished the shower part when she heard two knocks on the door.

“Room service!” a voice called out from the hall. Octavia quickly dried herself and opened the door.

The bellhop decided it was a brilliant idea to shoot her dead. The cellist whirled around and delivered a solid buck to the bellhop's cart, crushing the assassin against the wall. He must have thought he was screwed, given the look in his eyes. She quickly banished the thought from his mind, as well as all others, by driving her cello's stand through his eye.

An earsplitting blast of sound from Vinyl's room told Octavia that her friend was in the same predicament.

Just another day at work.

Vinyl's door exploded. A 'bellhop' crashed through, blood leaking from his ears. A white mare with a wet mane strode out, dripping water onto the carpet as she wielded her 'bass gun' with her telekinesis. The attacker groaned and tried to stand up when another sonic blast caused the stallion to go still. The mares nodded at each other and galloped for the fire exit as the elevator pinged open and disgorged a squad of suit-wearing gunponies.

The DJ seized Octavia's cheap cello with her telekinesis and flung it at their assailants, buying enough time for the two to escape. They charged into the stairwell and headed downstairs to the kitchen, where their emergency equipment was stashed.

"Damnit!" Octavia hissed as she realized she'd left something behind. "I should have taken my guns with me."

"Here." Vinyl levitated a Hock 9mm out of her saddlebags, complete with the fetlock clip, and passed it to her friend.

Octavia slammed in a magazine, racked the slide, and held it at the ready as they charged down the stairs, the cellist with a three-legged gait. One of their pursuers opened the door a few floors down and took aim, sending a burst of rounds over their heads as they ducked. Vinyl blind-fired as she ran, and a grunt of pain and the sound of a body hitting the floor confirmed that she'd hit somepony. Another assailant opened the door right in front of them.

The cellist jumped up as she ran, extended her rear legs, and smashed the door into him. The stallion collapsed with a groan and a bloody face, allowing the mares to step over him without any difficulty. They got to the first floor stairwell without further incident and shot the door open, startling prospective guests (of which there weren't very many) and unaware staff. Octavia fired her gun into the air to get them to put their heads down, allowing Vinyl to pick off an attacker at the other end of the lobby with a precision shot.

All three elevators pinged open, vomiting a horde of goons into the lobby. They took a moment to scan the area and found the musicians attempting to sneak inside the kitchen. The leader yelled, and the goons fired in their general direction. Vinyl swore repeatedly and strained her magic, tossing couches and pottery at the shooters.

Octavia remembered the dead-mare switch they'd put in the equipment boxes at their suites and nodded satisfactorily. An explosion shook the building, cutting the power, setting off the fire alarms, and causing a stampede that prevented the shooters from getting good shots at them. The two made it to the kitchen and slammed the door behind them. Octavia found a length of pipe and shoved it into the handles.

She and Vinyl breathed.

"That was fun," the cellist said with a sarcastic note.

"Tell me about it."

A third voice joined in. "This hotel isn't a cocktail, mare," the chef said as green flames engulfed him, "so shaking it up is out of the question."

"Nice to see you again, Chammie." Vinyl walked up and bumped a hoof against his chitin-plated shoulder.

"In any case, we've been compromised." Chammie, or Chameleon as he was formally known, ignored the DJ's friendly gestures. "We already have the data we need, so we'll just get out of the city. The vehicles are in the parking lot."

Octavia looked outside the door, noting that their attackers had set up in front of it. "There is just one problem. How do we get to the garage?"

A devious smile formed on Chameleon's face. "I've got an idea."

"Oh man," a militiapony said, looking out at the plaza where the Air Militia assembled. "That's everything? That's all we have?"

Fifty pegasi stood in v-formations of five each, awaiting the order to take flight. All of them wore combat harnesses of varying levels of condition and technology, a testament to just how underprepared Equestria was for war. It would be a slaughter if they went up against the dragons. They needed more planes, missiles, and anti-air guns; the current Triple-A coverage was much too thin to be optimally effective. It didn't take a military genius to consult a coverage map.

Just then, a Germane IFV rolled into the plaza and disgorged a phalanx of heavily armored ponies. He was about to pass it up as a futile gesture when he saw the shimmering, dawn-colored hair flowing from the lead's helmet and rear plates. He looked down his scope to take a closer look and saw the wings and horn. His eyes widened, and he nudged the mare beside him.

"Look at that!" He passed the rifle to her and pointed downrange.

The mare looked down the scope. "Is that...?"

"It well and truly is, folks," a deep voice rumbled out behind them. "Princess Twilight's goin' ta fight with us."

They turned around and saw a huge, red, unfamiliar stallion with a respectful smile on his face as he viewed the unfolding scene from his Stalwart.

"Isn't that dangerous?" the mare asked.

Big Red shrugged. "Eeyup. But that's never stopped her before."

Shouts and cheers from the plaza drew their attention back to the air combatants. Twilight reared up, swung her hooves, and shot a pillar of light into the sky as she flared her wings in a grand gesture. One by one, the formations flared their wings and shot into the sky.

"A brave and headstrong a mare as any, if'n you ask me," Big Red said as he disappeared into the hatch. "Just like mah sister. Practically family...."

The militiapony and his partner hunkered down. A spark of hope flickered in his heart, fanned by the backwash from the Princess of Magic's wings as she rose triumphantly into the the air like one of the generals of old.

Twilight switched her display to flight mode and nodded as the altitude, heading, and attitude indicators came up in vivid green. Her armor highlighted and outlined nearby contacts, placing symbols over those further away to provide her with a clear picture of where everypony was. She swiveled her head around looking for wing leader Jet Stream, personnel tags unfolding as she centered in. She found the white and blue stallion at the point of his formation and slotted in behind him.

She saw the breach forming up ahead. Etheric lightning flashed on the expanding gap in the barrier. The sound of breaking glass and an unearthly thoom echoed out every time the dragons butted heads against it, bringing the local integrity down at a dangerous rate. The pegasi conjured up clouds and waited, checking their weapons one last time before the engagement.

The princess landed gently on a cloud and inspected the linked pair of 12.7mm machine guns mounted on either side of her chest at belly height. She had roughly 500 rounds and a spare cooling sleeve for each gun. Mounted on her underbelly was a Braytheon lance projector, which fired an intense burst of magic for use against hardened targets. It was a stopgap measure designed to fix the lack of heavy munitions for non-pilot pegasi, but it was also useful if an alicorn wanted a little something extra. The battery was good for ten shots and could be recharged by unicorns or transmission stations if they were available.

To give them extra lift, several of the pegasi also had metallic surface area extenders clipped to their exoskeletons' wing actuators. Some wore a weaponized version with extenders capable of slicing through plate steel with ease using channeled Ether. Twilight checked her own wing blades and nodded satisfactorily as the telltale hum pierced the air. The blades glowed magenta and sang as she moved her wings and then faded to their regular polished look as she cut the power.

If anything, they were as prepared as they could ever be. That didn't banish the lump in her gut though, and she was thankful for it. There were so many possibilities: so many things that could go wrong--or right--depending on the roll of the cosmic dice. There was simply no time to take all of them into account. Years ago, she would have panicked at even the hint of that. But now, she just gritted her teeth and hoped for the best.

A large chunk of the barrier suddenly gave way as a dragon slammed into it, disintegrating into tiny shards before finally dissipating into pure energy. The dragon that created it grinned ferally and clambered into the hole as it expanded, growing until the dragons could enter in pairs.

"Heads up all units, be aware that the barrier has been compromised," the Mission Control officer announced. "Friendly air units are vectoring in to intercept; weapon status is free. How copy? Over."

"Copy; clear."

"Five bandits crossing barrier threshold. Birds affirm." Target lock indicators shaded the red diamonds on Twilight’s display. "Ten seconds until blue-on-blue probability too high. Your call, Magic. Over."

That was her callsign, earned during an assignment to the Fillypines some years ago.

"Uh...." She searched her memory for the correct terminology, then decided to get to the point. "Open fire. Over."

"Copy. Birds away," the officer announced. "Keep your heads down for frags. Out."

Five missiles streaked from the launch units scattered around the city and intersected with the incoming dragons, dealing massive damage to their armored hides. Two of the beasts corkscrewed out of formation after the missiles impacted, spraying wide arcs of blood before they crashed into the ground. Another missile hit dead-on, decapitating the unfortunate dragon. The other two missed completely and exploded ineffectually in the air.

Jet Stream grunted satisfactorily as the smoke clouds dissipated. "Gamma and Beta wings are go."

Ten pegasi leapt off their clouds, diving down towards the unaware dragons.

"Guns! Guns! Guns!" they chorused, opening up with streams of brilliant blue tracers that broke through dragon scale and punctured flesh alike.

A dragon twisted around and sent a blast of flame in their direction as its partner looped around to bracket the pegasi between them. Beta wing broke off and whirled around to face the second dragon, their lance projectors flaring with actinic light.

"Fox five!" Searing plasma thundered through the air like lightning and speared into the dragon's hide, causing hideous burns and a bone-rattling roar of agony as it clawed futilely in the air with a wing missing at the joint, crashing down in front of a Glacier, which put it out of its misery with the squeal of treads and the crunch of bone shattering under three hundred tons of 'fuck you.'

"Bandit down. Beta re-engaging."

The other dragon fell just as quickly as the five pegasi rejoined their siblings-in-arms, blasting it with lance fire while Alpha distracted it. The plasma lances exploded its chest, showering bits of cooked meat onto the defenders below.

"All bandits down. Returning to positions."

It wasn't over yet. A wing of smaller dragons dive-bombed the formation, smashing into the pegasi with lethal results. Screams tore out of Twilight’s headset as the stricken ponies spun and fluttered to the ground. The formation split apart, their individual elements wheeling around to open fire, but the dragons were already out of firing range. A wing of rescue ponies tried to catch the falling bodies, but it was too late. Five ponies were dead.

The silence lasted but a moment. "All wings. Go! Go! Go!"

Twilight joined Alpha wing in the assault, much to Jet Stream's displeasure. Her wing-blades flared with magenta light as she charged several offensive spells and placed them in her armor's multicast slots. Several encounters with dragons had taught her several valuable lessons alongside those taught by combat flight training camp. One of those was to never approach a dragon from the front. Another was that a dragon's wings, like every other flying creature's, were major weak points while the creature was flying.

She sighted a dragon as it attempted to clamp its jaws around a pegasus, firing a short burst of lead into its wings near the joint. The bullets shattered bones and tore apart the wing membrane. The resulting loss of lift on one side and the sudden shifting of the center of gravity due to the wing's dismemberment caused a fatal, unrecoverable spin along the forward axis, terminating in a crash into City Hall and collapsing five hundred tons of building on top of its head and neck.

A reddish blur shot at her from behind as her hackles rose. She whirled around in midair and released the spell in Slot-1, named Starfall. The amplifiers built into her armor glowed with magenta energy, channeling the reactor's output into capacitors that lined the surface extenders. The capacitors released energy in the form of a spread of Etheric missiles that radiated from the extender primaries and curved towards the target. At the same time, she canceled her alicorn flight magic and the gravity nullifier charms on her armor.

She fell like a rock, missing the dragon by a meter as the miniature plasma lances speared into her attacker's head and neck. A pained roar rumbled out behind her as she spread her wings and willed herself to fly. Her gut lurched as she pitched up, powerful wing strokes lifting her out of her dive. The dragon reversed direction, barreling towards her for another pass as two more fell into position beside it.

She released Slot-4, Solar Flare. A beam of superheated plasma lanced from the tip of her horn, illuminating the night with the intensity of the Sun. The beam gouged a long, cauterized wound into the lead dragon's flank as she jinked to the side. The plasma stream guttered out as the dragons passed. Grayness encroached on her vision, and she could feel her heart in her throat. That was Etheric fatigue creeping in. The princess gritted her teeth and sent a long burst of Magic Missiles at the dragons to drive them away, a feat accomplished by linking the Magic Missile to a Repeater utility spell, effectively turning the one-shot spell into the equivalent of a machine gun before alighting on a rooftop to catch her breath.

"You all right, Princess?" a passing pegasus asked.

"Yeah," she replied, gulping air. The scraping at the edge of her mind alerted her to the imminent collapse of a powerful spell.

The barrier was about to give way.

The dome shattered in a rain of Ether shards. A spike of pain lanced into her mind. She screamed in agony; her wings locked up; and her knees bent as the grayness expanded. The barrier shattered like a Hearth's-Warming bauble, throwing out jagged shards of ether.

It was as if Tartarus had been unsealed.

She gritted her teeth and rejoined the fray.

The plan involved explosions. Lots of them.

The idea had been to ignite the stock of fireworks reserved for Fall Wrap-Up and escape in the ensuing chaos, but Chameleon had misjudged the stock's explosive potential and blasted a good chunk of the storage area to pieces. The fire alarms blared once again and sprinklers sprayed water onto the building's occupants as they ran about in the circles panicked ponies were known to follow until brave souls ushered them out of the building.

Chameleon and two other changelings disguised themselves as a young family, then handed out Color Shift charms to the ponies. Octavia grunted in distaste as the charm shifted her colors to that of her fiddler cousin in the Apples. Vinyl on the other hand took on a radioactive green color palette. She smiled pleasantly.

"Cool," the DJ remarked, looking herself over in the mirror.

They joined the stream of evacuating residents and narrowly avoided a couple of armed thugs posing as guards. The cellist wondered why the building hadn't been evacuated when the shooting started. She shoved the thought into the back of her mind; now wasn't the time to ponder on that. Once outside the hotel, they sneaked back into the parking lot and climbed into their getaway vehicles as the fire services arrived.

Vinyl grinned as she keyed in the engine, listening to its eager growl while Octavia assembled the carbine hidden inside the glove compartment. The cellist slammed a magazine home and racked the bolt with a satisfying click.

Vinyl put on a headset. "Team One, this is Team Two," she said. "We're good to go."

"Copy that, Two," Chameleon replied as their vehicle rolled out of the parking space. "Uploading nav coordinates now. Take the lead."

The route appeared on the GPS system mounted on the dashboard, and Vinyl took the lead in her sports car. She took them through a winding path designed to lose whatever pursuers they may have picked up.

Octavia looked through the window. "Oh, good: I think we lost them."

Suddenly, a black SUV opened fire on them as they turned in to the freeway.

"You were saying?" Vinyl grunted from the front.

She swore as bullets slammed into the aluminum oxide windscreen. She twisted the steering wheel. The tires screamed in protest before being silenced by the crash of metal-on-metal. The sports car slammed into the SUV's rear flank and forced it out of its path. The enemy driver recovered, but it was too late for him. Octavia's steady hooves ensured that the 7.62mm round pierced into the side of his skull. The SUV's occupants scrambled to retake the wheel but by the time they regained control of the vehicle, they had already drifted into the opposite lane. Death came for them in the form of a Rockbilt semi truck.

Another SUV rammed the sports car in the side, knocking them around in their seats. Octavia lifted her gun and emptied the magazine into its doors and wheels. One of the tires burst and the rim scraped across the asphalt with a long spray of sparks. The driver shot at them with a pistol, the big rounds punching holes into the car's shell. Octavia reloaded and fired a burst into the driver, ending him.

That SUV careened out of control, missed Chameleon's vehicle, and flipped over, spilling its occupants out onto the pavement. Vinyl wiped sweat from her forehead with a fetlock and sighed deeply.

"That couldn't go any worse!" Vinyl breathed.

A burst of rounds from above eviscerated the engine in a shower of sparks and a plume of smoke. Octavia shot her friend a long, hard glare and huffed.

"You were saying?" The irony wasn't lost on both mares.

Helicopter rotors thumped above them, a spotlight glaring into their faces. The engine sputtered out, and the car lost speed, finally coming to a stop in the middle of the freeway, where a horde of black vehicles and armed ponies surrounded them. The pony on the helicopter's machine gun kept the weapon trained firmly in their direction, just in case.

"Get out of the car and put your hooves on the hood!" the helicopter's loudspeaker boomed.

They had no choice. Octavia unbuckled her seat belt as Vinyl climbed out with a severe scowl. The cellist followed her friend over to the front, where a pair of rebels bent them over the hood and locked hoofcuffs around their fetlocks.

"Damnit!" Vinyl hissed, "So close!" The hoofcuffs and magic inhibitor ring clicked loudly as they were secured.

"Wait," Octavia noticed that a very large, brightly colored detail was missing from the picture. "Where's Chameleon?"

A jaunty tune blasted out of the changelings' hippy van as it slammed into one of the pursuit cars, knocking it aside like a toy. The van drifted laterally until its long end faced them and sprouted a variety of weapons from hidden ports.

"Buck me kindly," Octavia whined as the explosions began.

The conference room was a scene of absolute chaos. High-ranking military officials and their various aides argued with ministers of parliament over recent events, collectively ignoring the scholars. Commander Armor was trapped in Vanhoover, Ponyville was under attack, and a rebellion was underway in the West Coast. Not to mention that Minister Rapid Growth had no tissue paper in his quarters.

"Minister." Winterheart glared at the stallion as he aired his complaint. "The adults are talking," she said icily.

Rapid Growth cringed and his ears folded back, an embarrassed blush spreading across his forest-green cheeks. Princess Luna looked at the assembled ponies with mild amusement and extreme irritation, wordlessly airing out her displeasure at their behavior.

"I do apologize for my dear brother's behavior," a purple pony spoke up. "He's been under quite a lot of stress."

Princess Luna nodded. "It is none of your fault, Sustainable. Now, let us go back to business."

Winterheart coughed. "Yes. You may have noticed that the rebel soldiers have had no remorse shooting down their former friends and comrades at a moment's notice. This is not because we are harboring millions of psychopaths in our midst." She gestured towards the center of the table, where a holographic display activated. "This is something far more sinister." She tapped an icon on the table.

A spell matrix suddenly hovered above the table, casting violet light into the room. Its various components and sub-matrices were highlighted and labeled, indicating their function in the spell's design.

Luna took the lead. "This is a variation of the Turncoat spell pioneered by Nightmare Moon during the Lunar Rebellion. However, this is not the one I am familiar with. Despite this, I know that this is a very dangerous spell because of its simplicity and...contagiousness."

"So it's like a virus then?" Admiral Hunter spoke up.

Luna searched her mind for the meaning of the term. "Somewhat--it requires a caster to spread. Given that, it is a fairly low-power requirement spell as it draws most of its energy from the castee rather than the caster, which also gives it ontological inertia, if ever the caster is killed. In addition, another component instills in the infected to spread the 'disease', as I must call it, especially to other unicorns."

She glanced at everypony. "Make no mistake. The rebels are inflating their numbers as quickly as possible. We must act quickly lest we too fall to this plague." She looked over the assembled, gauging them. "What are our options?"

Hooves were raised immediately, shouting over each other in a bid to be heard by the princess. Luna raised a hoof, silencing the cacophony. General Winterheart cleared her throat, catching the cue.

"I foresee two solutions. Either we deploy a countermeasure, or we kill them all."

Most of the ponies gave her shocked looks.

"This is not a fairy tale we are living in." She said. "Maybe in some other universe, there is an innocent Euqestria where everything can be solved by magic jewelry, but it is not ours. This ‘plague,’ as we may call it has to be cured...or else...."

She let the sentence hang in the air like a guillotine blade. "I am telling you this so you will know the consequences of failure. We must not fail, but we must not waste time pursuing pointless ventures. I will ask the princess's question again. What are our options?"

"We believe that we can create a wide-area counterspell. The power requirements, though…," Bright Mind, the Minister of Education, stroked his goatee as he pondered the problem at hoof.

"Not possible." Luna shook her head. "Even if we had a magical store powerful enough to inundate a city-wide area in an instant, the sheer power of the release would obliterate the city and everypony in it. However, a localized variant could theoretically be delivered via mortar shell or projector."

"Shouldn't Princess Twillight be handling this?" one of the Ministers asked. "She knows quite a lot about magic, and she's got her hooves in almost every research center in Equestria."

"She is...indisposed at the moment," Winterheart said without looking up from the report on the table. "I believe I may have a solution." She tapped an icon on her display and a teleconference window popped up on the large screen, showing a steel gray pony with fire-themed hair.

"This is Fire Arrow of Braytheon Missile Systems Research and Development. He is currently working on a compounds deployment platform based on Cloudsdale's weather factories." She nodded to the stallion on the screen. "Elaborate please."

"Yes. Um...." Fire Arrow manipulated the console on his end, bringing up various schematics and research reports. "Project White Cloud aims to revolutionize the deployment and dissemination of any chemical agent using artificial meteorological conditions, allowing these agents to affect wider areas than ever before."

The more well-read ponies blanched as they pondered the implications. General Rock looked at the scientist with a mixture of derision, irritation, and confusion. "Equish please," he growled.

"What he means is that they're developing a warhead that can deploy chemical weapons via artificial weather," the Minister of Defense spoke up. "Am I right, Mr. Arrow?"

The engineer gulped. "Um... Yes, Minister Warmblood?" he said cautiously.

Rock grinned eagerly. "What are we waiting for, then? Kill 'em all, I say!"

Winterheart scowled, muttering, "Shut up, Rock."

"You cannot be considering this General's proposal, Princess!" Warmblood was livid. "This could possibly be a breach of both the SALT IV and Hippeis Convention treaties. We risk losing all our allies!"

"I am," Luna said. "We will have to explain in very clear terms what we plan to do, and only then as a last resort before we are unleash the hounds, so to speak."

"Then I--"

"Despite her coldness--no offense, General--I do not believe that she is planning a mass murder of ponies whose only failure is to have fallen under the thrall of an upstart tyrant. General, what are you thinking of?"

"None taken Princess." The general cleared her throat. "If I remember correctly, I believe that there is a Zebra concoction that takes on the effects of whatever spell it is primed with, including one that breaks the control of whoever has over those little ponies. If we produce it in large enough quantities and deploy it via an artificial rain storm or fog bank, we can remove around a third of the Rebel force from action."

"Just a third?" Rock raised an eyebrow.

"Haven't you read the memo? The rebel faction is subdivided into three groups: the Thralls, who are under the control of this spell; the Freedom Fighters, who are fighting on their own volition; and finally, the Pacifists, who believe that discourse and diplomacy are the most effective way to effect change."

"All the same to me. Only good rebel's a dead one."

She took a breath, resisting the urge to punch her fellow general. "How we handle the Thralls and the Freedom Fighters will either make the Pacifists amenable to us or force them to take up arms. We must move quickly, but carefully."

"I believe it is possible to enlist the other rebel factions' aid against the Thralls." The Minister of Public Relations had a pensive look on her face, "There does appear to be significant tension between the Thralls and the other two after all. If we tell them the truth, then maybe they'll help us out."

Luna hummed. "My agents do seem to have data that correlates to this. Perhaps this is viable."

"You're thinking of joining forces with these rebels?!" Rock protested. "Not on my watch!"

"Simmer down, son." Admiral Hunter set his cup of tea down. "We're trying to avoid pointless bloodshed, not provoke it, so get your head on straight and contribute."

"Let's get back on topic." Luna said, turning to the bewildered engineer on the screen. "By the order of the Sovereign Lunar Crown, the Royal Principality of Equestria has granted your project a sum of fifty million bits to accelerate the completion of the White Cloud deployment platform, to be used in OPLAN: Liberty Bell. However, once the operation is complete, all research documents, prototypes, excess units, and additional information and equipment are to be destroyed, including that which resides in you and your staff's minds. White Cloud is not to fall into the wrong hooves, now or forever after. There will be no bargaining on this. A breach of this contract constitutes high treason, and is punishable by death."

She ended the teleconference and returned her attention to the meeting. "Now. On to other matters..."

Applejack and Rarity made a great team, it seemed.

Rarity's attention to detail allowed her to distinguish AP from APFSDS and HEAT from HESH from the alphabet soup of military designations. Applejack's big-picture mentality, on the other hand, allowed the items to get where they were needed in record time. The disorganized jumble of ponies running about had been transformed into a well-oiled resupply machine under their management.

Everything was right on schedule. The guns were being resupplied as fast as they could fire, allowing for a steady barrage of shells that kept the dragons and their drakeling cannon fodder at bay, in turn allowing tanks to snipe at them from a distance while infantry and air support harassed them from behind.

Despite all that, holding through the night was proving to be very costly.

Applejack watched as stretcher after stretcher was unloaded from a Swiftrunner heavy truck and placed inside the base medical facilities, which had expanded into the parking lot as staff from Ponyville Medical and other clinics lent their hooves and expertise. She and Rarity, in turn, made sure that a steady flow of medical supplies reached the ponies working there as their own way of contributing to the effort.

A heavily damaged Stalwart rolled into the makeshift vehicle bay covered in deep scratches and dried blood as its engine smoked and sparked like a fireworks show gone wrong. The tank gave one last squeal before gurgling to a halt, the bent and twisted barrel drooping limply. Mechanics immediately got to work as its crew evacuated the dead vehicle.

"We're writing this one off. Ma'am," the crew chief said, looking sadly at the battle-worn vehicle. "Could probably replace it with two Steadfasts, but we're running low on them too. We won't make it unless those reinforcements get here right quick."

"Thanks fer tellin' me, Crankshaft," Applejack said with a glance at the chief. "Get those Steadfasts prepped for battle. Celestia knows the boys up front need all the help they can get."

She looked at the line of battered vehicles outside. Many of them were covered in soot and sticky dragonfire residue, emitting a burnt meat smell. Others were covered in splashes of dark crimson, their treads caked with red-black gunk and powderized scales, giving the cleaning crews a hard time hosing them off. One Sturzstrom had been peeled open like a banana, its occupants torn to shreds in their harnesses.

Applejack jumped as the alarm klaxons went off, underscored by the rattle of gunfire at the base's periphery. A whistling shriek reached her ears, and then a watchtower exploded as a black blur rushed past it. Her hoof went to her holster as the drakelings surged over the chain-link fence like a tidal wave, her heart rattling in her chest like a machine gun.

"Apples."

Reporters homed in on Luna like sharks the moment the doors shut behind her back with a resounding boom. They bombarded her with questions she was not permitted to answer. She elicited a sigh as she tried to escape the throng of rabid reporter ponies surrounding her.

She missed the days before her banishment, despite the luxury and relative peace these modern times gave her. She was in her element then, leading soldiers to battle while her sister played nice with her words. The Princess of the Night was the mysterious 'bad cop' to her counterpart's 'good cop', to use a modern term.

Nowadays, though, Luna appeared in the sunlight more often, holding meetings with important figures and conducting ceremonies while her sister lurked in the shadows, offering advice when it was needed. She turned the corner, the reporters still hounding her while she thought. These days, the only thing her sister did was hide in her room and manage her country in the dark, sending the occasional letter or text message should it be an urgent matter.

So this is what it was like to rule alone.

"Has Princess Celestia renounced her throne? Who will replace her? How come nopony sees her these days? Is she on vacation?"

That remark about the vacation ignited her temper. "Enough!" She reared up and flared her wings, her hooves falling hard enough to crack the marble tiles. Her eyes blazed white, and her voice took on a deep echo as it grew to weaponizable volume. "I will not have you asking such things about my sister! Is that clear?"

The reporters blanched, their ears folding back. Celestia was many things, enigmatic and convoluted yes, but a lazy pony she was not.

"Now away with you! All of you!" Her voice drove the journalists back. "Lest I throw you all in the dungeon!"

The reporters fled like the carrion birds they were. That was uncouth of them, yes, but behind their interrogating lay an important question.

Just what had happened to her sister? She hadn't been seen in public since the declaration of war, and she had become increasingly reclusive after.

Luna decided that it was time to find out for herself. She gritted her teeth, flew up to Celestia's balcony, and struck open the curtain-shielded doors. What greeted her nearly broke her heart.

The entire room was in disarray. Papers lay everywhere. Glass shards glittered on the carpet. Priceless artifacts lay around like mere toys among discarded pizza boxes. A bookshelf had been tipped over, aged tomes and scrolls scattered around it. In the center, on a pile of bean bag chairs, sat a white figure huddled in a midnight blue blanket. The faint sound of sniffling mixed with the soft scratch of a quill on parchment reached Luna’s sensitive ears. Something was very, very wrong.

"Tia? Sister?" Her anger ebbed, replaced with concern. "Is everything all right?"

"Lulu." The miserable mare whispered. "Close the door please."

Luna walked in, careful not to step on the glass, and shut the door behind her with her magic. She flicked open the lights, illuminating the room in a harsh fluorescent glare, her carpet-muffled hoof steps sounding all too loud as she walked towards her sister. Luna cleared a space beside her sister and lay down in it, placing a wing around Celestia's shoulders.

"Why are you acting like this, Tia?" Luna said gently. "What has gotten you so miserable?"

"Have you ever felt that everything you've worked to build is about to come down on your head, and you can't do a thing about it?" Celestia gave a choking sob. She never did cry gracefully. "I'm powerless, Lulu! I can't do a damn thing about this war. I can’t even save my ponies! I'm pathetic!"

Celestia sniffed, then continued.

“They say 'the road to Tartarus is paved with good intentions,' and I'm the prime example of that. ‘Demilitarize Equestria to show that we are a progressive, peaceful nation!’ Look where I’ve gotten us into. The last major battle we fought before this was a wargame for Second's sake. Now we can't defend ourselves like we used to! And yet...they all still look up to me to save them! Their Guiding Light, their Radiant Sun...these titles don’t mean anything anymore! If only they knew...."

Celestia was rambling.

Luna decided it best to break her out before she shut down like what had happened when their parents….

She shook her head. It was not the time to delve into such dark memories, not now when her sister needed her.

"What ever happened to the mare who promised me that she would wait a thousand years if it could bring me back, and then a thousand more, and a thousand yet if it didn't even as her Perfect Weapon did its terrible work?"

She remembered the events of that night with perfect clarity. She remembered forgiving her sister for what she was about to do even as the Nightmare kicked and screamed, desperate to avoid its doom. The combined thaumic release had been enough to vaporize Unity City, leaving only ruins of its once-glorious palace and a fine layer of ash behind.

"What ever happened to the mare who stood at Canterlot Pass with her soldiers while I lay waste to the city she founded with her own hooves?"

That too, she remembered. She--as Nightmare Moon--drowned Celestia's Radiant Legion in blood while she unleashed terrible energies with the help of an ancient artifact, warping pony minds into twisted mockeries of what they once were. Celestia had never faltered then, slicing down the Corrupted with Sol Invictus like a farmer did wheat.

Luna's voice cracked slightly. "What ever happened to the pony who always gave her all, no matter the gravity of the issue?" She near-whispered, a hot tear rolling from her eye. "Where is the Celestia I know?"

Celestia gave her a sad smile and whispered, "She's gone." Her body flickered like a corrupt video and then dissolved away into floating shards of thaumic energy.

What lay underneath the illusion of a whole alicorn was seared white-hot into her memory. A gruesome webwork of burn scars criss-crossed the right side of her body, leading up to a downy stump of a wing, a cloudy eye, and finally a shattered horn.

"Do you remember the Coup?" she asked softly. "My nephew had been lucky enough to catch me defenseless, but I won the first encounter. I had him at hornpoint, but I spared him.... I remember waking up like this…." She shook her head. "He did this to me."

"I can't be their anchor anymore, Lulu. Not like this. I can barely even go out in public anymore."

Luna threw her forelegs around her sister's neck. "Who else knows?"

"Twilight. She came after him, and then she did what I couldn't. She was strong enough to do what was needed of her. She was strong enough to fight, and she's still fighting. She can be their rock. I'm sorry, Sister." Her voice cracked. "I can't go through another war."

This wasn't the sister Luna knew. This in front of her was a broken mare running from her responsibilities because she thought she wasn't up to the challenge. She knew the consequences of this string of events, should it come to pass. She knew it firsthoof. And yet, if the populace were to find out about her secret, the ensuing chaos would be disastrous.

Luna gently turned her sister's head so that they locked eyes. "Look at me, Tia. Strength is not measured by magical potential, wing power, or physical capability. I know a simple, wall-eyed mailmare who has defied the constraints of space and time for her family. I know a certain student of yours, who forgave me for my actions even when I couldn't and befriended me when I thought I was beyond redemption."

She looked straight into her sister's eyes. "And I know a mare who has forged and prospered a nation from the ashes of war and watched over it for a thousand years...and will watch over it for a thousand more.

"Strength lies in the heart, Tia." Luna placed her hoof over Celestia's chest. "You're not alone anymore. And you never will be."

Celestia didn't say anything. She didn't need to.

An aura of gold light shimmered around her body, which transformed into a glowing mosaic before resolving into the image everypony was familiar with. She nuzzled her lunar sister and stood up, sliding open the curtains with a burst of magic.

"Rest now, sister." Celestia said, fixing the mess in seconds despite the lack of focus her broken horn gave her. "I will raise the sun in a few hours. I'll take care of your moon too."

Author's Note

I had fun writing this chapter, despite having had to do it over again twice and junk a few promising scenes because they did not go with the flow I had in mind. (Though I think I have a bad sense of flow to begin with.) I hope you have had fun reading this as well. If you want to, please leave a comment below.

A colleague of mine from college is also now working on finding and pointing out mistakes and inconsistencies, but if you spot any feel free to point them out.

Thank you!

ED: Fixed a plothole involving Specter and the two espionage musicians.

A bad picture of the Glacier II and the Baserunner (guess the reference)

The Fleetfoot APC, Stalwart MBT, and Glacier I

And some old renders:

Equestrian Airship, Destroyer Class.

And the Prince of Steel.