The Hive Wars

Day broke over the campsite, the tattered remnants of the once proud 2nd Division having been trickling in all throughout the long night.
Slowly,but surely, several of those formations thought lost and those commanders thought damned arrives, reverent like, from the mists of the battlefield. ‘They say that cutting off the head of the snake is the best way to achieve victory,’ thought Ebon Hour as he perused the latest quartermaster’s report, the ink still fresh on its pages. ‘If that’s true then we had better become a hydra,’ he mused briefly from the seclusion of his personal tent.

A loud clearing of a throat outside the entrance flap announced that he was not alone. It was of course far from practical, and a bit ridiculous, but in the absence of doors one had to make due. “Come in,” Ebon flatly stated as he rolled up the scroll in his magical grip and placed it into a crumpled pile in the corner with many others.

A stern looking pegasus in the gilded armor of the guard emerged halfway through the tent’s aperture “The ponies you summoned have assembled in the command bunker”, the stallion said.

“Thank you, Quick Fix,” Ebon replied to his equerry, “Remind me to have a chat with the quartermaster about the wonder of last century’s accounting breakthroughs, such as double entry.”

Quick Fix smiled slightly before replying, “I’ll get right on that sir.”

Ebon Hour got up from his weathered portable desk, “We all know that this southern theater of the war is a sideshow of a side show, but I swear to the solar crown this will be a successful sideshow.” Gathering his crimson and gold edged mage robe from the back of the chair he paused a moment to study his reflection in the small desk-side mirror. His charcoal mane was shaggy and unkempt, draping frenziedly over the sides of his horn, his eyes were then drawn to his cutie mark, his namesake, an antique clock, with both hands on the 3:00 am mark.
“Captain? Is everything alright?” asked Quick Fix.

“Yes,” Ebon replied in a monotone, eyes not leaving his cutie mark, a frown slowly creeping on his features. The gaze lasted an extra few seconds before the reverie was broken, Ebon slipping on his robe and trotting outside.

The camp was quite a different site during the day, rows upon rows of white dots filled the horizon, contrasted against the rocky, barren, reddish hue of the terrain. The image struck Ebon hour as strikingly graveyard-esq, the metaphor unsettling as his rational mind knew that one third of those tents were empty.
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The map room of the command bunker had been cleaned since last night, though a few traces of changeling ichor gleamed bright and green streaks across parts of the floor and walls. I had asked Quick Fix to find and assemble the ponies mentioned on the list I had given him, those same ponies had now begun to trick in.

First in was a tall unicorn, his crimson robes of the same order of magi, he and Ebon hour did not embrace gauntlets like others in the guard might, but instead regarded each other for a long moment. “Ebon,” the unicron nodded.

“Bright Bulb,” Ebon Hour replied.

“You look like you died on the battlefield and forgot to stop walking.” Bright Bulb jested before taking a seat.

“So I hear, how is your squad holding up?” Ebon placed his hooves on the central dias and started up the runic projection of the surrounding territories.

“Still a wreck, that stunt you pulled didn’t help either. We had almost stemmed the breach in our lines when you and your vanguard pulled back through the enemy envelopment and put everything back into dissaray.”

“What can I say? Sometimes tactical cowardice is the best way to seem valiant.” Ebon ruffled about in his robe for a moment before bringing out a small glowing gemstone and plugging it into the side of the dais. The projection flickered for a moment then re-ignited with a different image.

Bright Bulb frowned “I’m flattered to be here, but I’m curious, why choose me?”

“Nepotism, Unicorn superiority preference, perhaps I just want to rebuild the command of this theater with ponies I actually like.” Ebon Hour replied before leaning back into his chair, steepling his hooves together.

“Ebon, please. Be serious”

“Because I trust you, and you’re an awful liar. The pacification of Munda-muka may have also factored into my decision.”

Bright Bulb grinned gleefully,”The magi enjoyed that night, let me tell you”.

Munda-Muka was a medium sized zebra settlement on the southern border, one of the many zebra factions settled in and around the south changeling hive. This particular tribe hazing been ensorceled by the changelings love magic and used as thralls fight the Equestrian forces when they passed through. Magi Bright Bulb and his company had taken the city without a single drop of blood spilled, though through means few of the campaign’s commanders were allowed to know. The entire affair was sworn into secrecy and none involved would comment on it.

Ebon Hour knew what happened. He liked that story.

Another pony came through the door as the pair of magi looked up from their seats. The lithe Pegasus Lemon Lynch, only other surviving member of the high command, trotted skeptically into another of the open seats at the table. “I confess that I have no idea why I am here,” she said.

“I suspect that will be a recurring theme,” Ebon shrugged. “The others will be here soon, we have to plan the division’s future.”
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Sargent Deep Trench of the 12th infantry. He’d failed to distinguish himself as an line officer, soldier or rational actor in all his years of service to the crown, beyond the base level of honor inherent in two decades of solid service to the crown. And yet.....he had ordered his squad to stay and assist in Ebon Hour’s fighting retreat through the enemy lines, so the good Sargent apparently wasn't a thinker. Ebon Hour could live with that.

Lieutenant Holly Springs of the 4th sky chariots, a striking white and blue pegasus mare. Her natural tones blended into the sky so well that Ebon often thought she had been magically enhanced in utero to preform just such a function. She had risen through the ranks at the point of a blade as often as she had by merit of deed. Not Ebon’s first choice, but they had history and debt were owed. Just thinking of them made his mane itch.

Magi Bright Bulb and Captain Lemon Lynch were natural choices, or so natural as could seem under the current circumstances. With the introductions made and every pony settled Ebon Hour stood up and addressed the room.

“You will help me lead this broken division. You are now each raised to the rank of captain in the royal guard. Any questions?” Ebon’s eyebrow shot up as he scanned for raised hooves.

Several of the new captains exchanged glanced. Lemon Lynch shot up, “That’s your greeting? That’s how you tell us?” she scowled.

“Yes.” Ebon didn’t blink. “Did you expect a speech?”

“I don’t know what I expected.” She replied.

“Then why do you sound disappointed?”

Lemon Lynch sputtered, “I...”

“Any real questions?” Ebon Hour sighted as he reclined back into his seat.

“I have one.” Spoke up Deep Trench. “Why us?”

“Because the rest of the command are dead.” Ebon said, idly miming a throat cutting gesture with his hoof.

“Obiously,” Holly springs said, “And how exactly did they die?”

“I killed them, or rather I asked the Lunar honor guard to kill them,” Ebon Hour leveled his gaze at her, “ The changelings killed them first, I disposed of the replacements.”

“As ambiguous as he is making it sound, it’s true, the rest of the captains were replaced by changeling infiltrators,” Lemon Lynch offered.

“Allright,” Deep Trench admitted, “What do we do now?”

“Now,” Ebon pointed a hoof at a large X that market a space on the projected map between them,”We get to work.”