The Hive Wars

Somewhere near the Equestrian border

The four figures stood in silence. Huddled around a circular stone dais, the only illumination coming from faintly flickering runes inscribed in a circular script on the table. Each figure wore plate armor, damaged in various ways from torn pauldrons to shredded knee joints. Defeat cloaked their shoulders, wrapped around them tighter than the oppressive darkness of the bunker itself, devoid of any natural illumination.

“Four of us,” said one of the figures. “So four officers are left.”

Another grunted, “There could still be more, not every squad has been accounted for yet."

The first hissed in naked contempt, roughly grabbing her helmet with sweat stained hooves and dashing it across the table. “Have you been blind for the last thirteen hours? How many formations did we lose in that assault?”

The third figure leaned forward on the stone dais, his golden armor reflecting the faint light in the room. “We can’t know for sure, not until the final reports come in.”

“Blatant optimism” sneered the first, “My equerry was killed, I personally saw Charging Blade and Proud Standard ripped apart by the changeling artillery right before my eyes, who is left to compile those reports!”

The fourth, silent until now, spoke up “We’ve all suffered pyhric losses today, as the remaining officers of this campaign we have to wring order from this chaos.”

“What of Ebon Hour?” The second figure asked, "I last saw him with the thestral honor guard and the 5th locked in a melee with the left flank, I lost track of him before the next wave.”

The fourth figure rolled her shoulders as if releasing the tension would alleviate her frustration, “He ordered his 1st company mages to hold their ground to buy time for stragglers to get behind our faltering lines.”

“How very gallant, so he got himself killed and lost our only potent magic artillery company and Princess Luna’s elite bat pony honor guard detail in the process,” Replied the first.

“At least we will no longer have to deal with the undue influence he garnered with the crown” the third joked.
With a constrained groan the central dais fully activated with the rune network displaying a full three dimensional display of the battlefield above them.

While the quartet studied the magical display a knock came from the reinforced steel door that served at the entrance for the command bunker. “Yes!” yelled the first as a tired looking Pegasus in scorched armor peeked through the door.

“Sir, we have three more formations entering camp.”

“Name them,” Replied the Second.

“Their battle standards mark them as the 5th assault company, 8th infantry and……the 1st royal mage company.”

The aperture of the command bunker swung fully open on its hinges as a newcomer entered. The unicorn in the doorway wore the golden armor of an officer in the Equestrian guard to match his four kindred, accompanied by a flowing red robe in the color of the royal mage corp. Part of his charcoal mane was seared off and two shallow cuts crisscrossed his exposed azure shoulder where several plates of armor were damaged and missing. He’d come alone, but he’d come armed, a curved blade of dark metal with a jeweled pommel rested across his back. “I hope you’ll forgive me for my tardiness, there was an ambush. You may have noticed it.” He walked up to the stone dais with the others.

The fourth figure nodded,“It is good to see you Captain Ebon Hour."

“I’m sure it is,” he remarked as he rolled his eyes before appraising the magical projection of the battlefield. “Our losses are on the wrong side of hilarious, but you know that well, Captain Silent Strike.”

Said Pegasus rolled her eyes before starting on her summation, “We have pooled our remaining forces into 5 cohesive formations made of the surviving companies, giving us a decent mix of infantry and artillery.” “Our real loss has been accrued among our pegasi chariot cavalry, they have been decimated by the changling assault, with only a third in any condition for combat.”

“They weren’t decimated,” Ebon Hour said, almost absentmindedly as he dropped his sword onto the table, ignoring the resonant clang of two conflicting magical fields.

Silent strike glared at him, “I beg your pardon.”

“Decimated means reduced by one tenth, it’s more like they were killed to one third.”

The second figure grunted and pointed an accusing armored hoof in Ebon’s direction. “The point is we went into this battle blind and we barely have an army left.”

“You know, this really won’t do at all, out of the entire command for this campaign you four are the ones I like the least,” Ebon quipped.

“Please be serious,” sighed the fourth figure. Ebon Hour had a way of smiling, first it reached his eyes, sparkling in amusement, then tugging against the corners of his mouth like an unfamiliar reaction, not understood, and only preformed in simulacrum.

“Captains Silent strike, Amber Bolt, Gale force and Lemon Lynch,” Ebon motioned with one hoof before continuing. “You will lead what remains of this army into another slaughter if you think we can regroup and muster another assault on the southern hive.”

Captain Silent Strike raised her lip in an involuntary tick of disgust before replying “Our honor, our Princess demands that we avenge the slight payed to us by these degenerate insects today! This campaign will succeed or the southern hive will only reinforce Crysalis’s forces engaged in the east with the other divisions of our army.”

“I won’t let you destroy our remaining forces to avenge imaginary slights on our imaginary honor,” Ebon Hour leveled, his words were calm but his gaze was intense and bore directly into Silent Strike.

“Brothers, sisters, fellow Captains, let’s not let the heat of the moment overwhelm us,” Captain Lemon Lynch stated, “Captain Ebon Hour, I can see the logic of your stratagem, and Captain Silent Strike I fully understand the veracity of your need to resolve all our feelings of defeat,” Lemon Lench raised her front legs outward in a gesture of inclusion and fellowship, to which the assembled captains collectively raised an eyebrow.

“Attempting another assault would be suicide for this Division and I won’t allow it,” Ebon confirmed.

“Duty demands that we fight, are you craven unicorn?,” Silent snarled as she came around the table to plant a hoof in the center Ebon’s chest plate. “How would you stop us from staging another push?”

“I’d kill you, of course. But let’s hope it dosen’t come to that. Emotions are running high and my sword is all the way over there.” Ebon gestured to where it lay on the table.

Captain Amber bolt sighed. “If you are finished acting the fool, may we focus on the matter at hand?”

“Focus on it all you like, I’m going to see my troops,” Ebon stated as he began to move towards the exit.

“Your sword, Captain,” Captain Amber bolt motioned to it from the center of the room.

“I will be back for it soon enough, enjoy your discussion Captains.” Ebon Hour walked from the chamber, his silhouette passing the hallway until it was out of sight.

“I grow weary of him,” Silent strike breathed under her breath. “When we rebuild the command it would be best if he were…unable to join.”

Captain Lemon Lynch’s ears folded to her head, “Just what are you saying….” Captain Gale force slammed his hooves down on the table as he spread his wings in defiance, “Why the spineless turn of phrase? I’ll kill him myself if it comes to it.”

Lemon Lynch was shocked by her fellow Captain’s words, but her attention was soon locked on Ebon Hour’s sword, resting on the table. The blade was forged out of a solid metal, most likely black moonstone, with a wicked edge reminiscent of the curved swords used by the saddle Arabian magi. But what caught her attention was the bright jewel set in the pommel of the sword and the magical signature it carried.
Having fought at Ebon Hour’s side many times she knew it’s purpose very well indeed.

Ultimatly, after the various changeling infiltrations and the siege of Canterlot Captain Lemon Lynch trusted none of her fellow ponies implicitly, so when the pommel of that sword began to glow a dazzlingly bright blue and her teeth began to itch with the onset of displacing air pressure and the smell of ozone she was the only one of the four captains not surprised.
She was also the only one galloping for the door.

The assassins appeared in a storm of bright blue fire and magical mist. As the captains recoiled, raising futile hooves to ward off the blinding light, all three knew just what the thunder heralded. Silent strike and Amber bolt reached for their weapons, which was why they died. Gale force almost made it to his attacker, almost. Lemon Lynch never stopped running.

The Thestral honor guard manifested across the chamber, wreathed in a dissipating shroud of powerful teleportation magic. The arcs of swirling spellfire around them slowly feed back into the pommel of Ebon Hour’s sword. They advanced as one in their massive suits of onxy armour, bat like wings flared as they kept their heavy crossbows raised. “ We have come for you,” Their leader growled in a deep ruinous voice.

Captain Lemon Lynch heard her colleagues die, heard their cries echo across the short hallway, a bolt caught her shoulder guard, burying itself deep into the war plate but not piercing her hide. She skidded around the next bend in the underground command bunker, running for her life.

Captain Lemon Lynch lay panting around the next corner, she looked up to see Captain Ebon Hour, leaning non-chalantly against the wall. “Hello Captain,” He said. She was rising when the squad of bat pony executioners rounded the bend and raised their crossbows. “Stand down,” Ebon said. “This one gets to live.”

Lemon Lynch almost spat, “How generous of you.”

Ebon Hour Chuckled before replying, “I thought so, too.”

“Why did you kill them?” Lemon Lynch almost screamed at him, moving so she wasn’t facing the imposing bat ponies, “ What reason could you have for shedding pony blood! You traitor!”

Ebon snorted then waved a hoof back towards the site of the massacre, “Don’t you think they were behaving a little oddly?”

Lemon Lynch just glared in defiance.

“Why don’t you go have a look,” He lit up his horn in a seemingly threatening manner, though his expression was utterly bored, “I insist.”

As Lemon Lynch tiptoed around the corner, back into the war room she saw a more heinous site than she imagined the first time. Instead of the valorous bodies of her four fellow captains there lay the sickening corpses of four changelings, dressed in pilfered guard armor.
“How……how did you know?” Lemon eeked out as she fell back on her haunches.

“They mimicked our fellow captain’s mannerisms perfectly, they must have been watching us for some time.” Ebon Hour said as he began to trot out towards to the exit, the hulking thestrals following behind him.

Lemon just stared back in confusion, “So how did you know!” she shouted after him.
There was no reply, as she picked herself up and made her own way out of that charnel house she did not know what frightened her more, how easily the forces of the enemy had infiltrated the inner circle of her division…..or Captain Ebon Hour.