The Hive Wars

They had mustered in the small twilight hours of the afternoon. Several formations were clustered around a rock outcropping on the outskirts of the nearby settlement. It had been almost a half-day’s march from the campsite, but Captain Ebon Hour and Captain Deep Trench had finally arrived with their squads. Captain Holly Spring’s forward scouts had reported possible changeling activity in the area the day before; now, they knew the source. “Either we have the right place, or this is the cleanest Zebra village I have ever seen,” spoke Ebon Hour as he, Deep trench and their squads checked their weapons and wargear around the outcropping, a mile away from the village. The late hour threw sinister shadows across the landscape, mixing the violet hues of the coming night sky with the dull red of the broken earth.

“Captain Springs’ report confirmed the presence of a sizable changeling presence, there is no doubt this village is compromised,” Trench continued, “The Equestrian accords state that we must assemble our forces within sight of the city’s border for a period of two hours while a formal missive of war is delivered.”

Ebon Hour sighed, “That,” he pointed at the city “Is not a sovereign entity, not a nation state, it has no rights even if it was not being puppeted by the changelings.” He drew his saber, “Besides, I didn’t even get to use Trottccam’s razor in the last battle, something we will have to get nice and close for.”

Deep Trench raised an eyebrow. “Trottccam’s razor?”

“It’s what I call my sword,” Ebon Hour grinned widely, “Because it’s the simplest; most effective, solution to any problem”.

The small force then assembled into fighting formation. Ebon wasn’t overly confident of their chances in a protracted assault, their division had been bled for months by the southern Hive’s hit and run tactics, cutting off the army’s supply lines from Equestria proper as well as any orders from Canterlot. The result had been to reorganize the surviving units into a leaner, but not necessarily meaner concentration of force.

Currently, the force assembled before him consisted of three, five-pony infantry squads, armed with guard issue patrol spears and one,
four-pony royal mage squad. It was much reduced from the sea of gold and red that shimmered in the Zebrican sun only a few months prior, but it would have to do.

They advanced towards the town, the zebra sentries easily spotting them from afar. Before long a sizable force had mustered outside the main gate to the town, composed mainly of Zebra tribesmares and several Changelings flitting above on segmented wings and chittering words of command. The Equestrian forced halted 100 meters from the enemy, each side staring each other down. "Which one is the unit commander?" Captain Trench whispered into Ebon Hour's ear, "They all look similar to me, the changelings that is."

"All those flying over head that we can see are just drones, the foot soldiers and infiltrators, the leader of the force will be a Gland-Dame, or for a larger force a Hive princess. Two different breeds, possessing larger brains and analytical ability for strategic thinking." Ebon drew Trotccam's razor in his magical grip and leveled it at the armored Zebra at the head of the force, "My bet is that she's hidden in amongst the zebra soldiers."

"It will be difficult to disrupt their command structure then." said Deep Trench as he drew his own weapon, a embellished spear with two flowing writs of commendation trailing down the haft.

Ebon Hour smirked at him, " An astute observation,it will be almost impossible given that they operate as a hive mind."

"Indeed."

"And they told me you weren't a thinker, tsk tsk."

"Wha..." but Deep Trench was cut off as the Zebra army began to charge, still about 80 meters out, a furious frenzy glazed their eyes over. Most of them were wearing little to no armor, the changelings hanging back and firing globs of viscous green gloop that settled in large clumps where it hit.

"Avoid getting hit by that, you'll get stuck and we'll lose unit cohesion," Ebon Hour charged up his horn, preparing a spell, "On my mark." The other magi fired up their horns in a likewise matter, the charging zebra 60 meters out now and closing.

"Brace for charge!" ordered Deep Trench, his infantry squads advancing up to form squares and surround the two captains as the charging zebra column neared ever further.

"Now!" Yelled Ebon Hour as he and the assembled four magi all unleashed bolts of shimmering violet fire from their horns, traveling in an arc and slamming into the enemy ranks. Several Zebra were disintegrated on contact, after the initial impact the spells splashed onto the surrounding soldiers, igniting striped coats and searing exposed flesh. " Veracity's Vibrant Volley." One of his favorite spells, Ebon Hour thought, he then scrutinized the enemy lines, they weren't breaking as he hoped.

The Zebra continued on in their charge, clashing into the anti-calvary squares that Captain Trench had set up. Ebon had been hoping that the spell volley would demoralizes their troops enough that their charge would falter and perhaps damped their morale enough to follow up with a counter charge. The hold these changelings had on their love-thralls was truly despicable, to render a thinking, sapient being into little more than a marionette, dancing on strings of chemical affection.

The superior numbers of the enemy came crashing down as tribesmare's met the spear wall with hoof and tooth. Several of the zebra were armed with bludgeons or their own crude spears, at a ration of almost ten to one the second wave pummeled the Equestrian forces. Royal mages were slinging fireballs and blasts of pure force between gaps and openings in the spear wall, so far a solid tactic, each rent in the mass of enemies followed up by a magical barrage. But it could not last, the first guardsman fell in a wild swing of hooves as a changling that had disguised itself as a particularly lean zebra uncloaked and sunk its long gleaming fangs into his exposed neck.

"We can't sustain this!" Deep Trench shouted over the din of combat, "We will be overwhelmed in a matter of minutes, how long must we hold this position?"

Ebon Hour brought Trotccom's razor up in a swift arc, rending a large gash in the side of a lunging zebra. "The anvil must hold until the hammer is ready."

Forty meters out, on a hill to to the east overlooking the raging battle stood a soure yellow earth pony in carefully artificed heavy guard armor. Arrayed behind her were the remaining might of the 2nd division. She raised her gilded warhammer high over mane and shouted "The iron is hot, let the hammer strike!" as the righteous hoof of Celestia that was Captain Lemon Lynch leaped into a full gallop down the hill towards the battle, her forces hot on her hooves.