Night Witches

by Mystic Mind

Rating: teen
Tags: Changelings, Adventure, Violence, Death, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Bat Pony
Length: 17040

Three Lunar Guards must face impossible odds and infiltrate a Changeling hive, taking it down from within.

From the depths of hell in silence,
Cast their spells, explosive violence,
Russian night time flight perfected,
Flawless mission, undetected,

After a long standing exclusionary policy was overturned by Princess Luna, a trio of Night Guards are finally admitted as recruits to the Wonderbolts. However, authoritarian leaders and hateful squad members soon prove to be the least of the sisters' worries.

Stranded alone in the badlands with minimal supplies, the newest admissions to the 588th Wonderbolts regiment must fight against impossible odds to destroy a Changeling hive from within, while also somehow rescuing their fallen comrades.

Inspired by the Sabaton song "Night Witches", and the real life Russian 588th Air Force regiment from WWII that the song is based on.

Published 2018-05-21 23:30:06 UTC
Last updated 2018-11-21 16:38:19 UTC

Part 1: The Mission

Slamming his stamp down onto yet another form, Lieutenant Fire Storm swept it aside and pulled another one from the pile. He’d long since lost count of how many of these bloody forms he’d filled out today, not that it mattered. Despite this being the fifth day in a row on paperwork duty, his desk was still covered in an avalanche of forms, orders, permits, and an assortment of other bureaucratic nonsense.

“What the buck did I do to deserve this?” Fire Storm groaned, begrudgingly scribbling out the necessary details before authorizing a command with a seal. “I swear, it’ll be a chilly day in Tartarus by the time I’m done with this shit.”

He paid a vacant stare at the alarm clock. Fire Storm took a moment to wonder what the rest of his Wonderbolts squad were doing while he was stuck here. Probably chasing their own tails, he thought. Without my leadership, those idiots can’t tell their flanks from their elbows.

Gazing into a small desk mirror to his right, Fire Storm admired himself. He gave special attention to the collection of medals pinned across his standard-issue officer shirt. Each one glimmered in the morning sun, his obsessive polishing keeping them in pristine condition. These were but a few of the medals he had earned during his two-plus decades of service; awards for everything under Celestia’s sun, from dramatic air shows to life-or-death combat scenarios.

And yet, here he was. Turning his head from side to side, he closely gave inspection to his deep red coat and striking yellow mane. His eyes narrowed at a few stray locks, streaks of dull grey breaking through like a stain.

“Damn that Spitfire,” Fire Storm cursed. “I bet she’s behind all this. Buck her and her over-privileged ass.”

A loud bang abruptly brought his daydreaming to a dramatic end. Just like that, old reflexes fired into action: and before he knew it, the lieutenant was up on the desk, wings flared, teeth bared, knocking over everything in the way of his hooves.

Muscles tensed, he stood poised for the incoming threat…

…which, after a moment’s waiting, never came. In its place, a series of unintelligible ravings screamed out from behind his office door.

The lieutenant momentarily relaxed, only for another loud crackle to send him diving under his desk, face buried in his hooves.

“Lieutenant Fire Storm, sir,” the monotone voice of his unicorn secretary, Miss Silver Swirl, said over the crackling PA. “Your new recruits are here for their appointment.”

Climbing back onto his chair, Fire Storm buzzed back; “Appointment? What appointment?”

“The appointment that was supposed to start sixteen minutes ago, sir.” Silver replied with an incredulous sigh.

“Hey!” a boisterous voice snapped from outside the room. “I told you already, stupid mare! You never told us the meeting time changed!”

“You’re still late, regardless of the fact,” Silver replied.

“What the buck is going on out here?!” Fire storm kicked the door open to see a trio of thestrals, one of whom propped herself up on his secretary’s desk, snarling like a beast defending its prey.

None of this phased Silver Swirl. She just sat back in her chair, dipping her reading glasses to look down her nose at her aggressor. “I believe these new recruits require discipline,” she said, emotionless as ever.

“I’ll show you discipline!”

“Phantom, stop!” the smallest of the bat pony trio put her hoof over the hot-head’s shoulder, her wispy voice cracking ever so slightly.

“Stand back, Winter! I’ve had it up to here with this mare’s horse manure.”

“Phantom, we can deal with this later,” the third thestral said with a steady voice, matching her straight posture. “Remember what we promised Luna.”

“Yes, I’m quite sure the Princess of the Night would love to hear how her servants have been behaving around respectable ponies-”

“That'll be quite enough!” Fire Storm snapped, his booming voice silencing everypony. “Send them in,” he said, making a cursory effort to hide the sneer as he spoke.

Without another word, Silver Swirl nodded, pushed up her glasses and went back to her work,] giving no response to the stuck-out tongue of the aggressive thestral.

Once back at his desk, the lieutenant scanned his eyes over the Lunar Guard trio. He looked over the hot-head first – the one named Phantom, if he was not mistaken. She had a short-clipped mane, grey with midnight blue streaks. She was quite lanky in stature, her facial features more masculine in comparison to her bat pony compatriots.

The pony in the middle—the smallest of the group, named Winter— was of a stockier build, with lighter grey fur and a white mane ending in small curls.

Examining the third one, Fire Storm noted numerous physical similarities to the other two; particularly her coat being dark blue colour, contrasted by a black, spikey mane, rounding out her companions’ colour pallet. Her most notable feature was her cutie mark; depicting a pair of bat wings over a faded, crescent moon.

From the cutie marks of the other two—a full moon for the smallest and a blood moon for the largest—Fire Storm suspected they were related.

“So,” Fire Storm stated, pushing the loose papers across his desk into a rough pile. “You wanted to see me, is that correct?”

“Yes sir,” the hot-tongued mare said, still gritting her teeth. “My name is Phantom Flight, and these are my sisters: Winter Flight and Dusk Flight.”

“I see,” stated Fire Storm, pulling out a cigar from a drawer under his desk. “Well, I can’t say I expected thestrals to be part the Wonderbolts, if indeed you are with us.”

“Yes, sir,” Dusk said, smiling slightly. “By special order of Princess Luna. She expressly stated she wants to end Lunar Pegusi exclusion from the Wonderbolts.”

“I’m sure she would,” he replied, lighting the cigar with a match and taking a long, deep puff. “But nopony joins the Wonderbolts without a dream to fulfil. So, tell me, what exactly do you want from us?”

The three mares briefly looked at each other. “I’m... not sure what you mean, sir,” Winter Flight said, sharing the confused expression of her sisters. “We simply want to serve Princess Luna in the best way possible-”

“Don’t give me that load of horse crap!” Fire Storm snapped, staring down the thestral sisters as he slammed his hoof on the table. “If I had a bit for every time a pony gave an excuse like that, then I would be the richest stallion in Equestria. Now, how about the three of you cut to the chase and tell me how you really feel.”

By the way the Phantom met his stare, the lieutenant expected her to start throwing punches. But instead, she bit her tongue, eye twitching. One of her sisters spoke up in her place, and not a moment too soon.

“The simplest way we can put it, sir,” Dusk said, her voice calm and collected despite the pressure, “is that we want to expand our horizons. We hope to be the new face of the Night Guards, breaking down stereotypes that permeate our culture and expanding the operational reach of the Wonderbolts.”

Fire Storm huffed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his forehead. How eloquent, he thought to himself. “Look, Luna’s political mandate may have allowed you to enter our ranks, but if you want to play with the big ponies? You’ve gotta prove your worth. That means following every order I give to the letter; no ifs, no buts, just like any creature else. Have I made myself clear?”

By the contortion on Phantom’s face, Fire Storm expected her ears to be steaming with rage. And yet, it was evident his presence alone kept her in line. He would be keeping an eye on that one, for sure. Through clenched jaws, Phantom replied in unison with her sisters. “Sir, yes, sir.”

“Good.” Rummaging through the select piles of paperwork that weren't in a scattered jumble, Fire Storm scanned each order, looking for something, anything, he could use to get the bat ponies off his back. As he continued, one specific sheet caught his eye.

The title was partially obscured by a stamp reading ‘top secret’, a fact which made Fire Storm’s face grow into a long grin. Given everything he’d been signing in the past week, how this got mixed up among his lot was a mystery.

Not that he cared.

Finally, he thought to himself. When I pull this off, Spitfire will be begging me to take her place as Wonderbolts Captain.

Spitting out his cigar, Fire Storm reached for his stamp, slamming it on the bottom of the page with a heavy thud and throwing it at the Thestral trio. “There. We start at oh-six-hundred hours tomorrow morning. You’ll get the extended mission briefing on the day. You are all dismissed.”

Picking up the page, Dusk held it up for her sisters to see. The summery they read made their jaws drop. “But sir, this is-”

“I said, you. Are. Dismissed!” Fire Storm snarled, spittle flying in the Thestrals’ faces. “Now, get out of my office, or your Wonderbolts days will be over faster than you can say ‘Sonic Rainboom’!”

“Why, you sneaky bucking-”

“Phantom, please!” With a shake of her head, Winter, calmed her sister down.

“Fine.” Turning her back on the lieutenant, she stormed out of the room with her sisters in tow, slamming the door behind her.

Lighting up a fresh cigar, Fire Storm leaned back in his chair and put his rear hooves on the table. “The Wonderbolts destroying a changeling hive?”He mused. “I’ll be an Equestria renowned hero by the end of the week!”

“I knew it! They were against us all along!” Phantom screamed, her voice echoing through the empty barracks. “When Princess Luna finds out, oh, is she gonna be mad!”

“If only it was that easy,” Dusk replied with an exasperated sigh, flumping face first onto her bed. Between shifting her sleeping patterns to daylight hours and Phantom’s rage, she’d had enough drama for one day. “We can’t just complain to Luna because we got a difficult mission.”

“It’s not the fact that the mission is hard, Dusk! It’s suicide! We can’t just waltz up to a changeling hive without cover and expect to get away unscathed. We’ll be eaten alive, or worse!”

“I know that, Phantom,” Dusk said, rolling onto her back. “But we’re not doing this alone. The mission statement explicitly says we must be accompanied by one high ranking officer, minimum. The lieutenant must have something special planned, otherwise he’d never have given it.”

“And you honestly trust that guy?!” Phantom bucked the wall in frustration, the plaster cracking on impact.

“Phantom, do you have to scream so much?” Winter groaned, covering her ears with her hooves. “Right now, there’s nothing we can do. So, please, just get some rest before the rest of today’s routine duties.”

Phantom took a deep breath, gently flexing her wings in time, calming her nerves. “I just can’t sit idly and let us be pushed around. Does Lieutenant Fire Storm know nothing about the Lunar Guards?”

“Whether or not he does is irrelevant,” Dusk said flatly. “We were chosen to represent Luna’s special forces, so we must adapt to how the Wonderbolts work. No doubt they’ll require us for night missions at some point.”

“Not if we’re killed on our first mission, we won’t.” Phantom muttered, her face softening. “I guess you’re right. Nothing we can do ‘till the time comes…” Drifting into a series of low, incoherent grumbles, she trotted back to her bed, laying down next to her sisters.

With plenty of time before their afternoon duties, Phantom closed her eyes. Yet as the minutes ticked by, no matter how much she tossed and turned, she just couldn’t switch off. With a heavy sigh, she sat up and stretched her limbs.

Maybe a short flight will clear my head. Rising to her hooves, Phantom pulled out her armour from a trunk under the bed, momentarily admiring the shining red gem upon the centre of her chest plate; an item unique to the Lunar Guard which formed the centrepiece of its design. Within it, she reflected on the contrast between her own bat-like appearance, and those of the Solar Pegusi enshrined in countless photographs across the wall.

Princess Luna hadn’t warned them of the adverse reactions Phantom and her sisters would face. She never needed to. It came part and parcel with being a creature of the night. Heck, if it wasn’t for bigotry against Lunar Pegusi, the Princess would’ve never needed to push for their inclusion.

So, upon the night they arrived at the Wonderbolts Academy, they of course drew the eyes of every solar Pegasus in the base. It didn’t help matters that some bright spark decided to schedule a thunderstorm to herald their arrival; though whether this was intentional, Phantom couldn’t say.

Before receiving a warm welcome from Spitfire and Rainbow Dash, there had been much chatter among the crowd – many hushed whispers of the word ‘Thestral’, among other, less common racial slurs.

Even with those that never spoke a word to them, their deep, penetrating glares betrayed their tolerant façade. Yet Phantom had stood resolute, chest puffed out in proud display of her Lunar emblem. How easy it would be to set her eyes aglow and hiss at the bigots with bared fangs.

The temptation to revert to the old ways was always present in the back of her mind. A feral instinct lying dormant, waiting to be unleashed on any who provoked it. However, Phantom knew she could never let herself succumb to such desires. If she was to become a Wonderbolt, as Luna wished, she needed to rise above the monster average ponies thought her to be.

Although, Phantom thought. Surely nopony would think a sparring match as return to savagery. It’s just training, after all…

“Can’t sleep again, sis?”

The soft sound of Winter’s voice brought Phantom back to the present. Though she didn’t flinch, she did realize how much she’d been grinning from her violent daydream.

“Yup, you caught me, Winter,” Phantom replied with a light chuckle.

“Something on your mind?” Winter smiled lightly, casually leaning over the side of the bed, chin resting in her hooves.

“Nothin’ you don’t already know about,” Phantom sighed, sliding on her breastplate. “I just need to clear my head, is all.”

“Mind if I join you? It’d be nice to stretch our wings for a bit.”

“Of course. No need to suit up, though. That’s just my thing.”

“Well, I suppose if you’re going to make an official statement, we should do it together.”

Both Winter and Phantom turned to Dusk, her eyes scanning over their lengthy list of chores. “While I’m never going to dissuade anypony from showing pride in their heritage, I don’t want our display to interrupt our time to perform listed duties. I don’t need to tell you how sour we’ve made Lieutenant Fire Storm already…”

“Except you just did,” Winter deadpanned, cutting off her sister’s ramble.

“Oh,” Dusk blushed, grinning awkwardly. “Sorry. I got carried away again, didn’t I?”

“Sure did.” Though Winter was initially able to keep a straight face, Phantom’s vain attempts to hide her snickering soon had all three of them in hysterics.

“Don’t worry about it, Dusk,” Phantom said, wiping a tear from her eye between a couple of deep, calming breaths. “This ain’t gonna be a long flight. Just a couple laps around the base and back, maybe a quick dash through the obstacle course, if we feel like it. We’ll have plenty of time for a proper snooze before Fire Storm can get on our backs!”

“Alright, alright, I believe you,” Dusk replied, waving her hoof dismissively as she tossed the list aside. “Just let my get my gear on. I swear, if you try to justify yourself anymore, soon you’re going to turn into me!”

“And that would just be confusing,” Winter added, letting only the faintest slither of sarcasm pass through her lips.

“Understatement of the century there, sis.” Sliding on her helmet, Phantom clasped her breastplate in place, her gem’s magic shimmering to life to envelop her bat-wings in a deep blue aura.

Now infused with Luna’s magic—her gift to all Night Guards—Phantom felt her heart begin to race. She couldn’t wait any longer. Exploding into a gallop, she threw open the barrack’s doors, taking a deep breath of the cool air rushing over her.

“Wait up, Phantom!” Dusk called, still fiddling to get on her helmet as she stumbled after her.

But Phantom was already airborne, wings spread to catch the warm updrafts up and away from the barracks. Her sisters weren’t far behind, flapping their wings hard to catch up and position themselves on either side.

Their dark blue armour glistened amongst the cloudless sky, a stark contrast to the bright blue of the Wonderbolts uniforms. Settling on their flight path, the trio levelled off somewhere between the scouting guards above and the trainees below. Taking a deep breath, Phantom closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on the rhythmic beating of her heart. Soaring along the gentle air currents around the academy’s perimeter, she turned her gaze downwards, taking in every little detail of her new home.

As the minutes ticked on, Phantom relaxed into the cycle of flight, letting her worries float away in the breeze. From the light smiles on her sisters’ faces, she could tell they felt the same way. Perhaps it was best to have faith in their collective skills. After all, they had been fighting together in the Lunar Guard since its reinstatement – the same day Princess Luna was freed from the nightmare.

They’d fought changelings during the invasion of Canterlot; freeing captive brides maids from their bonds under the direct leadership of Princess Luna. Why would this mission be any different?

Author's Note

The second of my irregular ongoing series. Had this in my head for ages, glad to finally get it out! Any critiques are welcome, but other than that, enjoy!

Part 2: The Briefing

The whistle’s ear-piercing shriek woke Dusk Flight with a start. Bolting upright, she opened her eyes to see Lieutenant Fire Storm bellowing in her face.

“Rise and shine, lazy-ass Thestrals!” the officer boomed. “Mission briefing started five minutes ago!”

“Wait, what?!” Phantom yelled, grabbing her alarm clock. “Ten-past six? What the buck happened to our alarm?!”

“Sir, I’m dreadfully sorry,” Winter half-whispered, bowing before the lieutenant as she stepped out of bed, ears flat. “I’m certain I set our alarms correctly last night.”

“Sure, and I’m the Princess of Yak Yakistan,” Fire Storm sneered, Winter flinching under his glare. “Does it look like I give a shit about such juvenile excuses?”

“No, sir,” Winter replied dejectedly.

“Well, it looks like one of you can listen, at least. Now, get your armour on and get your butts in gear, fast. I haven’t got all day.”

Now well awake, Dusk rolled out of bed and picked up her alarm clock, examining it. This alarm clock was brand new and had been working without issue all week. Why would it malfunctionon the day of her first Wonderbolts mission?

“Aha!” She exclaimed, all but shoving the clock in the lieutenant’s face. “Take a look at this, sir. Our alarms have been tampered with! You can see here how the alarm settings have been moved an hour forward from their original-”

“What the buck did I just say?!”

Recoiling in surprise, the clock slipped from Dusk’s grasp, shattering into several pieces at the lieutenant’s hooves.

“How many times do I have to tell you Thestrals that I don’t give a shit? Shut your bucking mouth and suit up, before I have you all court martialled for insubordination!”

Without another word, Dusk yanked the trunk from under her bed, hastily throwing on her armour before Fire Storm could yell at her again. Now I understand how Phantom felt before…

Speaking of whom, her hot-blooded sister was already fully dressed, standing rigid and glaring daggers at Fire Storm; something which the lieutenant picked up on.

“Is there a problem, Thestral?” he sneered, returning the stare with equal intensity.

“No, sir!” Phantom stated, as professional as she would to Princess Luna or a Night Guard commander.

“Not planning to cause any trouble with those claws of yours, are you?” Fire Storm gestured to the sharp, purple-coloured metal claws attached to the gauntlets on Phantom’s hooves.

“No, sir!” Phantom stated, her expression unchanging. “Just demonstrating my readiness, sir!”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear. Now, unless you intend to keep dawdling, let’s get this mission brief over with.”

Trotting a short way behind her sisters, Dusk glanced between Phantom and the lieutenant. When it came to her sister, she knew that look. The expression of stone-faced facade of confidence, working as a defence for her emotions as much as her physical armour did for her body. She’d seen it a thousand times before – just one of Phantom’s many methods of keeping cool under pressure.

The lieutenant’s expression was a stark contrast. He wore a small smile, an unmistakable self-congratulatory smirk. He was getting what he wanted: straight, unquestioning obedience.

But Dusk could also tell there was a little more to it than that. In a way, he almost looked… impressed? Dusk supposed this is what military types called ‘having a spine’. If to have a spine meant showing no emotion what-so-ever when somepony yelled at you, anyway.

Regardless, if Phantom’s intent was to get the lieutenant off her back, she succeeded for now.

As they walked across the court yard, Dusk made a point to examine the expressions of other Wonderbolts, stopping briefly at the runway, allowing for others to land. She could hear the coded babbles of flight patterns and technical reports rattling off from the pegusi’s lips, understanding none of it.

Though by the side-eyed glances some of the Wonderbolts gave her, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. While she ignored most of them, Winter, by contrast, shot back with equally dark looks, reflecting such judgemental attitudes.

That was one of many things she loved about her younger sister. Despite her small stature, she was no less well versed in the arts of intimidating glares. Naturally, the moment the lieutenant glanced back, her expression softened, her visage that of an innocent filly many viewed her as.

The briefing centre itself was a small building. The bland, yet functional interior consisted of only one room, big enough to fit no more than a couple dozen ponies within its beige-painted walls.

It seemed to Dusk that, everywhere she went, the Wonderbolts’ flashy uniform design didn’t carry over to bland, by-the-book academy architecture – nothing like the wide array of towering columns and grand arches of somewhere like Cloudsdale.

“Alright,” Fire Storm stated, a quartet of Wonderbolts standing up to salute him. “Now that we’re all present, there will be no more delays. Everypony, take a seat and I’ll cut to the chase.”

Approaching the desks, Dusk kept her eyes front and centre, refusing to look at any other solar pegusi. Igniting conflict with the squad members—who may havealready resented her, regardless—was the last thing she needed. Thankfully, they remained silent and acted disinterested, although she thought she heard the faint sound of a hoof-bump under the table.

“Okay, everypony, listen up,” Fire Storm announced, pulling down a projection canvas, shutting off the lights and powering up the idling projector. “This is the changeling hive we are tasked with destroying, deep in the heart of the Badlands. Though the whereabouts of Queen Chrysalis is still unknown, these hives are the last vestiges of her former Changeling Empire.

“I needn’t remind you of that whole reformation bullshit about Changelings being good now. Just be aware that, despite this hive being a minority in their unwillingness to bow to Thorax’s rule, they’re still master shape-shifters, on multiple occasions morphing to look more like their green-skin counterparts.”

Dusk nodded, silently making a few mental notes for later.

“This is why it’s our top priority to have them exterminated ASAP. The sooner we’re rid of the anti-reformists, the sooner we can track down Queen Chrysalis herself. You will each carry the maximum payload allowance for this mission, blowing these insects out of their holes for a full extermination. We dive in high, drop the bombs, fly back out again, classic hit and run, rinse and repeat. They’ll never see us coming!

“So, to recap: follow my lead, keep up the pace, and try not to die. That concludes our full mission briefing,” the lieutenant said, switching off the projector. “Any questions?”

Dusk had several questions, not least of which pertained to the simplistic nature of this plan. She just needed to decide which query would cause the least confrontation. Yet just as she was raising her hoof, the lieutenant stepped down from his podium.

“No questions, good. Now, you have exactly fifteen minutes to-”

“Sir!” Winter exclaimed, her voice loud enough to echo and draw all eyes to her as she leapt to her hooves. “Aren’t you missing a vital defensive measure against changelings?”

“What are you implying, Thestral?” one of the solar pegusi spoke up, a defensive growl reverberating in his voice. He was a tall stallion, standing two-heads higher than Fire Storm, with a cobalt blue coat and wavy, purple swept-back mane. A black raven in flight represented as his cutie mark, a strong indication of his personality before a single word left his lips.

He narrowed his eyes at Winter, straightening his back and flaring his wings to size her up – completely missing the bat pony’s eye roll. “That our lieutenant doesn’t know how to fight changelings?”

“Cool it, Dawn Sky,” the solar Pegasus on the row behind said, placing his hoof over his compatriot’s shoulder. He had similarly-styled mane to Dawn Sky, its grey colouration only a few shades different from his icy white coat. Though his speech was calm, there was a subtle force behind it which made Dusk squirm in her seat. The fog-covered sunrise depicted through his cutie mark not helping matters. “Nopony said the lieutenant is stupid.”

“Hey, stupid or not, my sister’s right,” Phantom interjected, puffing out her chest to mirror the antagonistic stallion’s posture. “If we’re fighting changelings, we need a password between us.”

“Oh, joy, a secret password,” Dawn sneered, snapping his gaze to Phantom. “What’s next? An invitation to your special club house? Scary stories ‘round the campfire? Give me a break.”

“Do you want changeling spies?” Dusk spoke up, keeping her tone as calm and matter-of-fact as she could. “Because, with ignorance like this? That’s how you get changeling spies. With a password, we can tell who’s an imposter and who isn’t.”

“You have to admit, Dawn,” the white stallion said. “She has a point. Always better to be over-prepared than under.”

“Ugh, Mist Match, why are you entertaining such nonsense?” the voice of a third solar Pegasus, sitting directly opposite of Dawn, drew everypony’s attention. This one was a mare, the only one among Wonderbolts present, rolling her eyes as she leaned back into her seat. Her long, ochre mane was tied back into a pony tail, and the light fluff of her green coat—adding to her rain cloud cutie mark—made her look a fair bit more approachable to Dusk’s eyes.

Dry sarcasm in her voice notwithstanding.

“What, are you suddenly an expert on changelings or something, Sunny Shower?” Mist retorted with an equally insincere smile. “Just like you were knowing so much about Thestrals this morning?”

“Don’t have to know what’s paranoid bullshit…” Dawn grumbled under his breath.

“See, Mist?” Sunny replied, waving her hoof in dismissal. “Dawn gets it. We’re Wonderbolts, for Celestia’s sake! We’ll be gone before they even realize we’re coming. Why over-complicate stuff?”

“Overconfidence is the leading cause of pony deaths,” Winter deadpanned, looking at Sunny Shower. “I’m with Mist. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Then make your own stupid password and keep it to yourself!” Dawn yelled, looking like he was just one step away from biting her sister’s face off. “Stop trying to lecture us about shit we already know! Bloody Thestrals, making everypony so bucking paranoid.”

“Will you stop calling us that?!” Phantom yelled back, baring her fangs as she slammed her front hooves on the desk. “We’re Pegusi, just like you, so quit treating us like some Luna-forsaken monsters!”

“Enough!” Fire Storm bellowed in command, spreading his wings between the two bickering ponies. “Pegusi or not, you’re still causing trouble. If you want a question answered, be quicker about it next time, and stop provoking my troops! Got it?!”

“We’re the trouble makers?!” Phantom yelled back, wings stiffening as she shook with rage. “But they’re the ones who-”

“Shut your bucking mouth, or I’ll send you back to Princess Luna in chains! You got that, Thestral?”

For the next few moments, Phantom and Lieutenant Storm stared each other down, an awkward silence falling across the room. Dusk was about to get involved, but thankfully, Phantom stepped down of her own accord.

“Yes, sir,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Good. Now, as I was saying before, get your butts to the armoury, get your gear, and be with me at the foot of the runway in ten minutes, or you’re swabbing floors all day.”

With that, Fire Storm trotted to the door and threw it open, the other Wonderbolts following in tow. Phantom avoided eye contact with Dawn, resisting the temptation to smack him in his chronically-smug face. Likewise, Sunny didn’t care to give the Lunar Guards any further attention, shrugging her shoulders and walking away like nothing had happened.

Only Mist Match chose to respond, ears lowered as he gave a courteous bow. “I’m sorry about my team mates. We come from strict backgrounds, as you can probably tell. No time for anything perceived as childish, you see. Nothing personal.”

“It’s fine,” Winter replied, her signature soft smile visibly easing the tension between Mist and herself. “Nothing we can’t handle. See you at the runway.”

“Of course,” Mist replied, acknowledging the response with a light nod. “See you there.”

“Well, I guess at least one of them isn’t a complete asshole,” Phantom said under her breath. “Makes a pleasant change.”

“Why the whisper, Phantom?” Dusk asked, having failed to notice that there was one solar Pegasus left in the room. He was a young pony, likely in the twilight years of foalhood, with a short, jet-black mane that stuck up into a quiff at the front. With a midnight blue coat and a constellation for a cutie mark, one could be forgiven for mistaking him for Lunar Pegasus.

Silently, he stepped away from his desk and plodded past the Lunar Guard sisters, eyes never leaving his hooves.

“Starry Sky!” Dawn yelled, head poking through the doorway. “Quit dawdling and get your butt over here, for Celestia’s sake!”

Starry looked up only for the briefest of moments. Though his mane partially obscured his face, Dusk could tell from his posture that he wasn’t exactly in the grandest of moods. Still silent, he galloped out of the room, leaving the door wide open behind him.

“What’s his problem?” Dusk wondered aloud, though it came out with greater spite than intended.

“Not a clue,” Winter replied. “But we’d best follow on. Can’t risk getting left behind.”

Dusk and Phantom nodded, exiting the building with a light canter to catch up. Yet Dusk still couldn’t shake her unease about Starry Sky. Perhaps it was how being the quiet one made him the odd ball of the group. Or maybe just fact somepony so meek became a Wonderbolt in the first place. Either way, Dusk didn’t like it. Yet, without anything but vague feelings to evidence suspicion, she decided it best to withhold any objections for now.

Then again, Fire Storm wouldn’t care if a Changeling came up and bit him on the flank.

Part 3: Take Off

Winter wasn’t sure if she liked the veil of silence hanging over her squad. On the one hoof, she was thankful to avoid yet another scuffle with Phantom at the epicentre. But on the other, the Solar Pegusi keeping their backs turned to her didn’t alleviate much of the discomfort they caused.

Regardless, she maintained a neutral expression. Wasting emotional energy on ponies who didn’t care to listen was pointless. Better to save it for the Changelings they would all inevitably encounter. There was, however, one important thing she needed to say to her sisters.

“Vampire Fruit bats,” she whispered as she exited the armoury, receiving a nod of acknowledgement from Phantom and Dusk. The password was set. With saddle bags containing explosives, they were ready for the mission to begin.

Lieutenant Fire Storm awaited them at the foot of the runway. “Good. Looks like everypony learned to show up on time,” he said with a disgruntled sneer. Winter wondered if he had any other manner of speaking.

She spared a look at her sisters, both of whom stood straight, taking the full brunt of the lieutenant’s insult. Pushing down the unpleasant churning in her gut—a feeling which had been brewing since they were assigned this mission—Winter followed suit, wings partially unfolded in preparation for the flight ahead.

“Listen up and listen good, everypony,” the lieutenant continued. “We are all to fly in a standard ‘V’ formation. I will be the spearhead, and you all mirror my manoeuvres. To my left, the order will be Mist Match, Starry Sky and Dusk Flight. To my right, Dawn Sky, Winter Flight and Phantom Flight. Sunny Shower, you will be in the middle, directly behind me, carrying the largest payload. Follow my instructions to the letter, and we will be back before the moon rises. Are we clear?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Winter and her squad shouted together. Her heart was thumping so hard, she could hear every beat. Her limbs wanted to shake, but she held them firm, instead using the energy to flap her wings gently, warming up her flight muscles as she trotted into formation.

“On my mark, we take flight,” Fire Storm announced. “Three…”

With a flick, Winter’s wings unfurled to their maximum span.

“Two…”

She bent her legs, storing potential energy.

“One…”

Her gem’s magic fired into life, solidifying her wing guards.

“Fly!”

Winter’s muscles released like a coiled spring, wings flapping down in a broad arc as she launched into the air. With each stroke, she ascended higher, matching her sisters beat-for-beat. From the frequency of their wing rotation, Winter could tell the Wonderbolts were pushing themselves to go faster.

She wondered why they thought this was necessary. Winter could already feel her body sliding into the natural air currents as she left the runway behind. With the elevation of the Wonderbolts Academy, it took only minutes to reach the jet stream, rocketing them south.

What a waste of energy, Winter thought, timing the rhythm of her wing beats to keep up with minimal effort. She supposed it was just a long-standing tradition of theirs. The Wonderbolts did spend a substantial portion of their career stunt flying, after all.

After the first hour of what felt like a foal’s race day at school, only Dawn Flight and Sunny Shower continued flapping hard, panting heavily until their tired wing muscles forced them to either settle back or risk stalling.

Winter let a small grin slip from the edges of her lips. They thought she caredabout their fragile egos, and instead made themselves look foolish. It was just as Luna had said: ‘Those whom insist on outside validation are always the most insecure inside.’ A fact reinforced by the resentful glare they threw at her in retaliation, as if it was her fault they couldn’t fly fast for long distances.

She declined to validate their annoyance with words. Instead, she did what she always did and kept her emotions in check – focusing on maintaining formation.

Beyond that, the flight itself was uneventful. Occasional bumps of turbulence, but nothing they couldn’t handle. For hours on end, they flew, keeping an eye out for any intercepting forces.

“Everypony, eyes front!” Fire Storm called, breaking the silence. “Prepare to descend. We’re crossing the Badlands border and should be reaching the hive within the next ten minutes, if my intel is correct.”

"And if it isn't?" Dusk asked before clapping her hooves over her mouth. She'd forgotten about Fire Storm's hatred of excessive questioning.

“Then we keep flying until we find it!” the lieutenant snapped. “What, do you think we’d go home and sleep all day instead?”

“Hey, if it’s good for Thestrals, it’s good for us!” Sunny snarked, though if he expected the sisters to rise to the occasion, he would be sorely disappointed.

However, there was still one question which Dusk could not hold in. “Sir, I have to ask,” she said, flying closer to Fire Storm, gesturing around her as she did. “How can we prevent being spotted without cloud cover? It’s a factor you didn’t cover in the briefing. I don’t mean to insult you, I just want to be careful.”

“Have you not been paying attention?!” Fire Storm bellowed in Dusk’s face. “How many times do I have to spell it out for you? If in doubt, we fly higher and faster! No creature in Equestria is faster than the Wonderbolts.”

With each word the lieutenant spoke, Dusk’s face scrunched up harder. Winter knew that look. Her sister had been holding back a barrage of ‘What ifs?’ from the moment she left the briefing room. And with each dismissal, the questions just kept piling up, ready to burst from her mouth in a tirade of tactical tautologies.

Yet, somehow, Dusk still managed to restrain herself, slowly unclenching her jaw to pursue the most vital line of reasoning. “And I respect that, sir. However, even an experienced veteran such as you cannot cover for every statistical eventuality. We must have at least one backup plan should the worst-case scenario come to-!”

By now, Winter wished her sister was afraid of the lieutenant – a single twitch of the red stallion’s eye being the sole warning of the hoof slamming into her cheek, ending her ramble.

“Argh!” Crying in a combination of pain and surprise, Dusk frantically flapped her wings, only keeping herself aloft with the help of her sisters.

“Maybe that will teach you to stop undermining my authority!” Fire Storm yelled through clenched teeth, getting hasty approving nods from Dawn and Sunny.

“H-hold on a minute, sir!” Mist blurted out. “The Thestral wasn’t insulting you, she was praising you! Surely that doesn’t call for a physical reprimand?”

Winter cringed at the T-word, despite it being spoken with positive intent.

“She got what was coming to her,” Dawn said, shrugging his shoulders. “Besides, why do you care, Mist? Don’t tell me you have a thing for vamps, you old horn dog!”

“We are not bucking Vampires!” Phantom growled through gritted teeth. It had been a long time since Winter last saw somepony test her patience like this. “And if I hear one more racial slur from that mouth of yours, I’m gonna prop it open with a bomb and blast your bucking teeth out!”

“Was that a threat I heard?” Sunny sneered sarcastically. “Oh dear, oh dear. I’m certain Princess Luna won’t be pleased to hear about that!”

“You wanna try me?!” Phantom snapped back, her face contorting with rage.

“Um… Phantom, was it?” a miniscule voice squeaked from behind Winter.

“What do you want?!” Phantom flipped around, screaming in Starry Sky’s face, too blinded with rage to notice how he cringed at her vocal volume. “You want a piece of me as well?!”

“Phantom, stop-” Winter began, but a much louder voice over-ruled her, combining with a bright flash of burning red to end the confrontation.

“Everypony shut the buck up!!!” Fire Storm bellowed, his voice echoing as silence fell. “I have had it up to here with your frivolous questions and petty bickering! We are here for pest extermination, not some pissing contest about who’s superior to whom. This is your final bucking warning: unless you want to be kicked out of the Wonderbolts and court-martialled before Celestia, I suggest you cut the horse shit and, for once in your lives, do what you’re told! Have I made myself clear?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” was the response from the Solar Pegusi. Winter and her sisters, however, remained silent.

“You got a problem, Thestrals?” Fire Storm said, voice dropping to a sharp growl. “It’d be easy to complete the mission without you.”

“No, sir,” Winter said after a deep breath, somehow maintaining her calm exterior a growing desire to kick the lieutenant’s racist ass all the way to Canterlot and back.

“And the rest of you?”

“No problems, sir,” Phantom and Dusk both said.

“Good. Now, everypony, get back into formation. If I hear one more word from any of you for the rest of this mission, you will be demoted, at the very least. Now, let’s get a move on. The Changeling hive won’t blow up itself!”

Part 4: Assault

Nursing her bruised cheek, Dusk let out a long sigh of relief as the squad reformed. By now, she wanted nothing more than for this mission to be over. Is this what Luna wanted? She pondered. The pain in her face was nothing compared to the emotional hurt of rejection. What will happen if they split up me and my sisters? What if other Wonderbolts have the same attitude towards me?

Dusk shook her head. She and her sisters were practically joint at the hip. There was no way she would let herself be kept from them, regardless of what any asshole officer said. I guess this bigotry is why Princess Luna wanted us here. She sighed again. Her heart yearned to embrace her sisters in a hug and just let all her emotions loose. But she knew this wasn’t the time or place for it. For the sake of the ponies she dedicated her life to, she would complete this mission and earn her place as a Wonderbolt.

Following Fire Storm, the squad started to descend, high enough to survey the terrain for enemies without being seen clearly. It didn’t take long for Dusk to spot their target.

The Hive was a gigantic structure, dwarfing even the massive skyscrapers of Las Pegasus and Manehatten. Jagged spires jutted from cylindrical sections, all crafted from a single, earthen spiral. It would be a magnificent thing if it weren’t so terrible. But Dusk knew there was no time to float around and admire.

“Listen up, and listen good, everypony,” the Lieutenant stated, the hive drawing ever closer. “The time for action has come, so don’t screw this up. Stick to the formation and follow my lead for the first ascent!”

Without any further warning, Fire Storm rocketed upwards. Dusk pumped her wings furiously, pushing her body against the immense G-forces pressing down on her to ascending at a sharp angle, going from horizontal to near-vertical in the blink of an eye.

After what felt like an age—fighting against both gravity and her burning muscles to keep pace—Fire Storm crested over in a narrow arc. Using the energy generated from the climb, he pushed his muzzle forwards into a dive.

Fanning out her wings, huge stabbing pains shot through Dusk’s flight muscles. If she wasn’t careful, the force of the manoeuvre could rip her wings clean off. Yet Luna’s armour held steady, keeping everything in place. With a single, heavy flap, she flipped over into a reversing-vertical loop.

At the top of the arc, Dusk opened her saddlebags and grabbed a cluster of bombs. With the window of negative-G closing fast, she pulled in her wings and plunged earthward at terminal velocity – aligning her sights with the hive’s upper levels.

It was inevitable that her acrobatics wouldn’t go unnoticed. Still, this didn’t worry Dusk. She didn’t have the capacity to worry right now. Dropping at a speed she had never experienced before, her mind focused on timing her bomb drops. She had to be close enough to release with deadly accuracy, but far enough for her avoid crashing into the walls as well.

Drones buzzed frantically about the towers, flying at them in droves to intercept before they reached striking distance. But as the Lieutenant had predicted, the squad’s speed was far beyond the changelings’ reaction time. Despite the enemy’s considerable numbers, Dusk zoomed straight past them – the force of the shockwave sending her foes into a tail spin.

The spires drew closer by the second, their details magnifying as if she was looking upon them with a piece of glass. Dusk’s heart raced, her lungs straining to fuel her muscles with oxygen. But she pushed herself on, offering a silent prayer to Princess Luna that she would make it out in one piece.

At the last moment, Fire Storm kicked out his hind legs, slowing him just enough to unleash his wrath on the Changelings below.

The bombs scattered across the spire’s peak, exploding into bright balls of flame and blowing the structures open. Everything within the blast area was incinerated instantly.

Mirroring the lieutenant’s moves, Dusk unfolded her legs as gently as she could. Even the smallest of movements cut her speed dramatically. To her side her sisters lined up, dropping their explosives through the opening carved out by the lieutenant’s payload. In a series of simultaneous blasts, the spire’s tip collapsed in on the skittering changelings below.

Dusk briefly caught a glimpse at those inside; hundreds of drones scrambling to get away, the slower amongst them buried alive.

If these hit-and-run attacks remained consistent, it looked to Dusk like the mission would ultimately be a success. Pulling out of her dive, she briefly considered if she’d misjudged the lieutenant’s tactical prowess.

Those thoughts ended when she began her next ascent.

She gasped in shock at the sight to her left – or rather, the lack thereof. Half of her team was missing. Fire Storm was still on the move, but neither Mist Match nor Starry Sky were anywhere in sight.

There was worse to come.

The full width of Dusk’s vision became filled with the swarm. Armed to the teeth with spears, tridents, swords – if she could name it, the changelings had it. The way they licked their lips when they looked at her chilled down the bat pony’s spine.

“Fall back!” Dusk’s cries came too late. Fire Storm’s speed was greater than his reactions. It only took a handful of changelings from a swarm big enough to intercept him – immobilising the lieutenant with heavy chain nets. It mattered little if one or two missed; there were plenty more that made their mark. Enveloping Fire Storm’s limbs in the weave of heavy iron, his wings fractured in multiple places.

Immobilised, the changelings descended upon the arrogant solar Pegasus in complete silence – skewering him from every angle with their spears.

The lieutenant’s body went limp, dead in seconds.

Curling her body forward, Dusk narrowly avoided colliding with her sisters as she veered hard to the right.

The two-remaining Solar Pegusi were not so quick on the draw. Breaking formation in a mild panic, they flew straight into the Lunar Guard trio. Hooves collided with faces and wings, spiralling down in an uncontrollable spin, straight into the hive walls.

A second after impact, Dusk’s world went dark.

“Dusk? Dusk! Wake up, Dusk!”

“Will you quit with the incessant yelling already, Phantom?” Winter Flight groaned, rubbing her throbbing temple. Phantom had been violently shaking her unresponsive sister since the moment she awoke, getting no response. “If you scream any louder, you’ll end up waking the dead.”

“Don’t you bucking speak like that!” Phantom snapped, snarling like a mother wolf defending her cubs. “She is not dead! If she still has breath in her lungs, I’m gonna wake her!”

“That’s not how this works…” Winter grumbled, though she knew there was no talking sense into Phantom at a time like this. If it wasn’t for her head pounding like an ill-timed jackhammer outside of a Canterlot bedroom, perhaps she, too, would be screaming in frustration.

One loud cough and splutter later, Winter’s headache was still present, but she at least felt a smidge of tension dissipate from the knowledge that Dusk was waking up.

“Oh, thank Luna, you’re alive!” Phantom cried, pulling Dusk into a tight hug.

“Ugh, good… to see you… too, Phantom,” Dusk groaned, wincing with pain. “Just… not so hard, okay?”

“Oh, sorry,” Phantom said, blushing slightly as she released her sister. “Got a little carried away, I guess.”

“Well that’s the understatement of the century,” Winter quipped, rising to her hooves.

“Any sign of the other Wonderbolts?” Dusk asked.

“Are you kidding?” Phantom replied, indignantly. “We were lucky to escape the changelings with you in our hooves. Given what they did to Fire Storm…” she trailed off, shuddering at the image etched into her memory.

“Ugh, poor guy,” Dusk said with a sombre tone. “I guess that’s the risk we take with every mission. Wouldn’t wish an end like that on anypony.”

The trio sat in silence for some time, collectively processing the inevitability of their fate.

As the sun’s presence faded in lieu of the moon rise, Phantom broke the silence. “So…” she started, though immediately trailed off.

“Vampire…” Winter stated with an anxious grimace.

“Fruit Bats,” her sisters concluded.

“Good, none of us are changelings.”

“Well, duh,” Phantom groaned. “If we were, one of us would be crawling back to the hive by now.”

“I suspect that’s the point,” Dusk added, sitting up gently. “Our mission hasn’t failed just yet.”

“What are you babbling about, Dusk?” Phantom asked, a raised eyebrow leading into a rant face tensing more and more as she went along. “We were shot down for Luna’s sake! Our commanding officer is dead and the other solar Pegusi are MIA. Not only that, but we barely made a dent in the hive we were supposed to destroy! That’s the end of it! Finished! Game over!”

“Enough!” Winter snapped, getting right up into Phantom’s face. “Why, of all ponies, are you giving up so quickly? Have you forgotten everything we’ve been through in the Night Guards? How many times have we succeeded against so-called impossible odds?”

Phantom’s face dropped, her frustrated exterior melting away to reveal the vulnerable expression underneath. “I get what you’re saying, sis,” she began, avoiding eye contact. “But this is… different. We were supposed to work with the Wonderbolts and learn their ways. So, what happens when we do everything by the book? They die. We should’ve saved them. It was our duty.”

“Phantom, how many ponies does it take to form a team?” Dusk asked, her voice as calm as her expression.

Phantom blinked, tilting her head. “Well, at least two, obviously.”

“And when we gave Lieutenant Fire Storm our suggestions, what did he do?”

“Threw them back in our faces! How I wish I could’ve punched that smug mother-bucker in the face in before he died…”

“So, why beat yourself up for the failings of other ponies’ teamwork?”

Phantom went silent, eyes rolling from left to right as she processed Dusk’s words. “I…” she said, pausing to translate her thoughts into words. “I guess… I guess I just wanted to show them our stuff. Make them respect us by doing the impossible.”

“And you think we’d have gotten any credit?” Winter asked, her words as sharp as any blade.

“…Hardly,” Phantom admitted. “So, what do we do now, then?”

“What else?” Winter grinned as she backed down. “We complete the mission and rescue any captives. But this time? We do it our way.”

“You really think we can do this?” Phantom asked, her straight expression showing greater confidence than her weary voice implied. “I mean, we’ve taken out organised crime gangs and the like. But this is a changeling hive! No question they know we’re still alive, so if we’re gonna do this, we need a real plan.”

“If it’s a plan you want, a plan you’ll get!” Dusk stated, a wide grin growing across her face. “But first, we need more weapons. Proper weapons – so we can conserve the bombs we still have.”

“Thank Luna they didn’t explode on impact,” Winter interjected. “But yes, we’ll need better armaments for us. Phantom already has her claws.”

“Oh yeah! I knew these babies would serve us good.” Phantom pumped her hoof in the air, her fighting spirit renewed. “One thing, though: where are we gonna get more weapons?”

Dusk grinned. “Not from where, but from who. And to that question, I think we all know the answer.”

Author's Note

The last chapter for the immediate future, as this is the point I wrote up to before editing. I'll try and keep this story as regular as possible so long as I have inspiration, along with the other fics I have ideas for :P.

Part 5: Infiltrate

Part 5: Infiltrate

Clad in identical, light-blue helmets—modified with decorative mandibles—the two changeling guards stood at their post and stared into the night.

Drones didn’t need to think very much, especially not the guards. If it wasn’t a changeling or accompanied by a changeling, they would kill it. And if what they slew turned out to be one, then it was the victim’s fault for not revealing itself at once.

So, there they stood, still as statues in front of the hive’s lower entrance.

Until an ear-piercing shriek shattered the quiet. Wings a-buzz, they leapt into the air on reflex, snapping round to face the noise’s direction.

Nothing but empty desert.

Another screech from the opposite side, this time followed by a shadowed figure that darted across their vision, faster than they could identify.

Now the noises came from everywhere, the changelings spinning on the spot to keep up. With every twist and turn, the more the mysterious noises and images appeared; their illusive targets always just shy being seen.

By now, other guards took notice. A dozen changelings spread from their posts to reinforce the primary entrance. Something was out there - they just didn’t know what.

The anomalies ended as quickly as they began. With no more threats present, all guards turned away, returning to their posts…

…until an explosion rocked the hive’s western district. The same area that had been bombed earlier that day.

It didn’t matter that this blast was smaller. Every drone reacted immediately, flying at top speed to catch the culprit.

Alas, for the guards at the lower entrance, their foe had already found their true targets.

The second those guards moved, a pair of bright yellow eyes burst open behind them, staring at them with an unearthly glow.

They never got the chance to retaliate.

From above, Phantom and Dusk dropped onto the changelings’ backs, grabbing their heads in their hooves and snapping their necks with one twist.

Once the guards dropped, Winter stepped out of the shadows.

“Successful distraction?” Dusk asked quietly.

“Only from the outside,” Winter replied in kind. “Inside is anypony’s guess. Though most will be defending the breach, I’m sure.”

“Then we’d better get in fast,” Phantom said, stripping the guards of their weapons and armour. “Not much to go around. Think you two can work with spears or daggers until we can loot something better?”

“What are we, Lunar Guards or treasure hunters?” Dusk quipped with a sarcastic smirk. “Really, do you think so little of our combat skills?”

“Oh, how you do so wound my pride!” Phantom snarked back, her voice barely raising above a whisper. “Seriously though, when it comes to duelling changelings, we’d better be sure our weapons are up to snuff.”

“When?” Dusk asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean ‘if’?”

“No, Phantom’s right,” Winter added and picked up a spear. The weapon had to be twice her length, at least. Not suitable in slightest for surprise attacks. So, with a stomp of her hoof, she snapped the pole in two, sliding the top half between the straps of her saddle bags. “We won’t look for trouble, but trouble will find us eventually. Best be prepared to retaliate where necessary.”

“Good point,” Dusk admitted, taking the daggers. “Let’s move.”

The entrance itself was little more than a small opening that led into a tunnel just wide enough to fit a double-rank of changelings. No doors? Phantom wondered. Not even a gate? Suspicious…

Lining up in single file with Phantom at the front, the sisters crept their way through. The light was dim, and its source appeared to be at the far end.

Despite their slow crawl, it didn’t take long to reach the first chamber. What greeted Phantom made it easy to see why the front didn’t have to be closed.

They came upon a hallow shaft; a wide, cylindrical room, covered in labyrinth of tunnels, stairs and narrow pathways criss-crossing in every direction. Any creature foolish enough to try and march into the hive without a plan would find themselves lost in no time. And that was if they could get past the guards.
For the moment, the area seemed abandoned, with not a single changeling in sight. “Well, so far so good,” Phantom said, taking in the full grandiosity of the area.

Flickering green sacks gave a soft illumination to the lowest levels, enough to get a sense of direction without revealing the operations above. In one quick cut, Phantom severed three pods from their stems, shrouding her sisters in a small, comfortable patch of darkness.

“So, what next?” Phantom asked.

“First, we wait for a patrol,” Dusk explained, her grin broad. If the lights hadn’t been cut, her fangs would be glistening. “Our goal is simple; kill all but one, and make the survivor talk by any means necessary. The sooner we get intel on the surviving Wonderbolts, the better.”

“An ambush? How ruthless of you,” Winter mused. “Though we’ll need to darken more than this little spot to ensure they wander into our trap.”

“We don’t have time for that,” Phantom added, gesturing her hoof to the plethora of sacks lining the tunnel entrances. “Yeah, your explosion worked, but changelings aren’t stupid. They’ll be sending scouts to cover the regular patrols any minute now.”

“Which means they need a reason to be here,” Dusk continued. “And I think Phantom’s claws are the key.”

Inspecting her weapons, Phantom rotated them in her hooves, her eyes on the glowing green ooze splattered across them. She looked at the pods again and noticed how they were all connected by a single, vein-like tube, pulsating as the substance flowed through.

Now that Phantom knew what Dusk grinned about, she joined in. Her little squad had all the conditions necessary for the kind of ambush that would make Luna proud.

“Where should I make the cut?” she asked.

Winter pointed a hoof between the fifth and sixth pods away from her.

That was all the instruction Phantom needed.

In one swipe, the tube ruptured, spraying a fountain of luminescent liquid into a puddle below.

Crouching low, wings folded behind their backs, the sisters waited for their foes to take the bait.

Not a second passed between their slip into darkness and the buzzing of changeling wings.

“What in Chrysalis’ name is going on down there?” A changeling grumbled to its underlings.

“Looks like a burst nutrient pipe, my lord.” The second voice shared the same, gravelly sound of the first, but with a more subservient tone.

“I can see that, you dimwit!” The commander snapped, striking the underling hard enough for the impact to echo. “Hurry up and fix it, before the hive-Emperor holds me responsible!”

“Yes, my lord,” the underling said, voice unshaken.

Whether it was a deliberate display of submission, or a sign of limited mental capacity, the sisters didn’t know. Regardless, the only difference it made was that it’d be killed last. Any form of self-awareness would make understanding fear a guarantee.

Closing her eyes, Phantom clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, painting a mental picture of the squad through high-frequency echo location. “Six individuals, a pentagon formation,” she described. “All surrounding their commander, who’s the biggest.”

“Meat shields, no doubt.” Dusk said with a quiet chuckle. “I’ll take first blood. Winter, Phantom, do what you like with the other drones, but leave the commander to me. I’ll deal with it in my own, unique way.”

Her sisters nodded, watching the squad as they passed through the dark threshold.

Stalking their prey took enormous self-control. Every muscle had to remain still, preventing even the smallest twitch that could give their position away.

With breathing minimised, they kept their heartrate in check. To the ears of a lunar Pegasus like Phantom, the rhythmic thump of the changelings’ hearts was as loud as the Royal Canterlot voice.

“Hurry up, stupid drones!” The commander snapped, kicking a drone in the backside.

Big mistake.

In a fraction of a second, Dusk sprang forth, her daggers stabbing right between the eyes of the rear drones simultaneously. Their commander hadn’t turned half way before the dead changelings dropped out of sight.

“What the buck?!” In the span of the last syllable, two more drones were eviscerated at the edges of his vision.

Four drones down, one to go; buzzing along as if nothing had happened.

Phantom watched the commander shiver with fear in silent glee, flicking his head left and right in a vain attempt to find his foe.

He would find it, but not before Phantom had a little fun.

Before he knew it, the commander’s last drone was gone; only this time, he witnessed its decapitation at the hooves of a shadowed figure.

Now he was all alone.

His already fast heartbeat skyrocketed, surpassed only by the speed of his wings, buzzing him around in a blind panic.

Looks like changelings and ponies aren’t so different after all, Phantom thought. Letting a short, sharp screech burst through her lips, she watched as the commander squealed, hopelessly lost in the darkness – a bat pony’s natural hunting ground, with fear as their primary weapon.

Now the time came to give the commander what he dreaded; the killer’s reveal. After a few more seconds flying around aimlessly, he came face to face with Dusk.

After her mad cackle, she sliced through the thin membranes of his insectoid wings.

Of course, she wasn’t going to let him fall without somepony ready and waiting to catch him; that pony being Phantom, cradling him in her arms like a new born foal. He opened his mouth to scream, but Winter stopped him, wrapping her hooves around his mouth from behind.
“Keep your mouth shut, or I’ll cut you to ribbons. Got it?”

The commander gave a tearful nod.

Phantom hovered above the changeling as they descended, listening carefully for heartbeats of any unwelcome guests who would spoil the plan. Once they knew the coast was clear, the sisters landed in the darkest spot they could find.

“Now then,” Dusk announced, a sinister smirk displayed for her victim. “You should know how this process goes. You tell me exactly what I want to know, and I’ll let you go in one piece. Understand?”

The changeling squirmed, trying to wriggle from Phantom’s hold. He should’ve known it’d be futile.

A small nod was all the incentive Winter needed to make him talk.

Placing a hoof on the changeling’s chest, she pressed down, using his muffled screams as a guide for how much pain to inflict.

“Let’s try this again,” said Dusk. “I ask the questions, and you answer them with utmost honesty. Got it?”

The changeling nodded frantically.

“Good. Sister, you may release him.”

The commander gasped for air once Winter shifted her hoof.

“First question,” Dusk continued. “What is your name and purpose in this hive?”

“I-I- m-me is… K-k-kirix,” the changing stuttered, head lowered to obscure his face. “Me worker. Me fix hive. Where hive broken?”

Dusk rolled her eyes. It was such an obvious lie, she had to wonder why this changeling ever thought it’d work. “I guess you’re not such a quick learner,” she sighed, looking up to her sisters. “Looks like I’ll have to finish the job.”

Despite the changeling’s pleas, Dusk showed no mercy.

Leaning into the changeling’s face, she licked her lips. “Frontal lobe, anterior temporal fenestra…” she muttered, reciting the scientific terms in an almost poetic manner. “Cerebral cortex, hippocampus, hypothalamus…”

“Fine! Fine! I’ll tell the truth!” the commander cried, forcing himself to look his captor in the eye, despite the mix of horror and revulsion showing on his face. “Kirix is my real name, but I’m a Drone Commander. I receive the worker’s orders and tell the drones what to do. It’s the lowest rank a changeling can get and keep their mind intact. I’m of no value to you, I swear! Please, for Chrysalis’ sake, don’t eat me!!!”

Dusk maintained the hard stare for a few seconds more, analysing his expression. “Alright, I believe you,” she said at last, much to the commander’s relief. “Phantom, you can release him.”

The old carnivorous pony routine, Phantom thought to herself, trying not to laugh. Works every time. Though she did as she was told, she remained close enough to breathe down the changeling’s neck. Important or not, alerting the higher ranks to their location was not an option.

“Second question,” Dusk continued. “Where were the prisoners taken?”

Kirix shrugged. “W-what do you mean? What prisoners?”

Dusk narrowed her eyes. “Winter…”

Winter grabbed the changelings wing, pulling it taught.

“Wait, wait!” Kirix cried. “We replace pony prisoners whenever they die in a pod. A changeling like me is never given the specifics. It’s all I know, I swear it!”

“I see,” Dusk said flatly. She took a moment to dismiss Winter, just to confirm the truth of the changeling’s statement. “Alright then. If you wish to get out of this alive, here’s what’s going to happen…”

The look on Kirix’s face was priceless. Only one with a low status such as his would get so elated over capturing prisoners. Even after the initial excitement wore off, his heartrate still beat only a fraction slower than his wings.

“You’re certain the sap tubes can be cut at any point and have the same effect?” Dusk asked.

“Be quiet, worm!” Kirix snapped, making a show of cracking a stolen whip for the changelings skittering past.

Pathetic, Dusk thought, pretending to flinch. How much of a low-life must this guy be to act so high and mighty?

As annoying as this charade was, Dusk couldn’t tell which of the passing changelings were the drones at a glance. So, she maintained her act until she made it to the dungeons.

Once they were out of earshot, Kirix’s facade of confidence dropped immediately.

“I’m so sorry!” he apologized, bowing his head repeatedly. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Of course not,” Dusk sighed and rolled her eyes. This was the fourth time Kirix made a mock attack at her, and the seventh time he’d apologized. She was starting to think she’d be better off with a less paranoid hostage. “Just answer my question.”

“Yes, yes, I swear on the emperor’s life, yes! Drain the sap, and there will be nothing to fuel the shine-pods.”

“Good. And one more thing.”

“Yes, oh great one?” Kirix snivelled shamelessly, just short of hoof-kissing. For that restraint, Dusk was thankful. “What more can I do to serve you?”

Dusk grimaced again. She wondered if all changelings laid honorifics on this thick. “Quit grovelling already. It’s getting on my nerves.”

“Of course, of course! Anything you say! Oh, and we aren’t far from the dungeon, either. You’ll have your prisoners in no time, and I’ll get a big promotion for your capture! Of course, you’ll need to pretend to die by my hooves, but that’s all part of the agreement we discussed before. You won’t be harmed in any real capacity, but don’t forget the other changelings will really be attacking you. I presume you have a plan to feign death, or is this a skill the Moon Guards-”

“Lunar Guards,” Phantom corrected, yet again.

By the way Kirix babbled on, he evidently hadn’t noticed the low growl in Phantom’s voice. They’d been walking for ten minutes and already Phantom was giving him death glares. Dusk could only hope he would shut up soon, as the temptation to shut him up grew fast.

Luckily for Kirix, more of his kind arrived to distract his attention.

These changelings were bigger and bulkier than him; equipped with the same light purple armour as the guards slain before.

When they spoke, it wasn’t in common Equestrian. Instead, it was a language unintelligible to Dusk. The bulk of their speech consisted of rhythmic clicks and whistles, lacking basic consonants that would provide a basis for translation.

Their body language, however, was universal. Their expressions ridged as their posture, looking down upon the lesser caste members before them.

Kirix’s posture was almost the exact opposite. His back arched as he looked up to his armoured comrades, face beaming with pride as he gestured over the Lunar Guard.

With wings tied up with severed tubing, the sisters stared blankly at the changeling warriors, swaying side to side in a feigned daze.

Kirix’s expression reminded Dusk of Fire Storm; but more in a punch-worthy smugness sort of fashion than any form of authority. If it weren’t for their disguise, Dusk would’ve been yawning alongside the guards at Kirix’s squeaky spiel.

Soon enough, the guards shooed him away, probably preferring to bash their heads in through combat than suffer another one of Kirix’s speeches.

“I sure showed them good!” he stated proudly, switching back to Common Equestrian once the guards moved along. “Bet you never thought I’d impress them, huh?”

“You didn’t,” Winter said, her left eyebrow cocked. “You were just annoying them.”

Kirix looked visibly stung by that remark. “What do ponies know of changeling politics?” he scoffed. “You should count yourself lucky I didn’t turn you in.”

“And you should count yourself lucky we won’t slice your head open for that remark.” Winter’s matter-of-factness with even the most horrible threats never failed to make Kirix flinch. “Remember your place, that’s a good boy.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grumbled. “We’re not far from the dungeon anyway. It’s just past the engineering room.”

“Think you can bless us with silence until then?” Dusk asked.

“Wait,” Winter interjected. “What do you mean by ‘engineer’s room’?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Kirix scoffed. “It’s the room where the engineer stays. Pretty important job, too.”

“Like what?” Winter pressed.

“Why do you care? The engineer’s social status isn’t far above mine.”

“Humour me. If the job is important, then I want to know.”

“Look, you’ll soon see for yourself,” Kirix muttered, turning his nose up and away from Winter. “So why settle for my meagre description? You’ll understand all the same when we get-”

Phantom let out a predatory snarl. “Quit stalling and tell Winter what she wants.”

“Alright, alright!” Kirix relented. He tried to play it cool but couldn’t hide the quiver in his voice. Dusk made a note to regularly remind Kirix that—for as long as they needed him—his life was still on the line.

“The engineer designs all the weapons a hive could need,” Kirix continued. “It’s a little different to how ponies create stuff at a forge or a fletcher, but the principle is the same. Draw up plans, gather raw materials and command the construction drones to help put it together. Heck, if it wasn’t for engineers, hives like this would be impossible. Really, it’s easier if I show you, since we’re so close. Satisfied now?”

“What do ya say, Winter. Think we can spare his legs for now?” Phantom asked with an exaggerated chuckle.

“Yes, Phantom. His answer was satisfactory. I just want to see it for myself.”

Kirix quietly sighed, relieved. “Well, you’ll get your wish. It’s just through this tunnel to our left.”

True to his word, the leftmost diversion opened to a huge room – a fraction of the central chamber’s side, but still massive by pony standards. One could fit an entire wing of Canterlot Castle inside and still have some to spare. The room was lit by several humongous spotlights, evidently designed to make every inch of it visible.

Including its contents.

Dusk looked on with a mixture of horror and wonder, particularly at the most striking feature; a series of pools scattered about, filled to the brim with a bubbling green goo. Each one was surrounded by a quartet of long, insectoid tendrils growing out from the ground. Each tendril in kind ended in the changeling equivalent of a common medical tool; from razor-sharp scalpels to fine-pointed syringes, this place had it all.

Out of the corner of her eye, Phantom wrenched violently, throwing her hoof over her mouth to prevent full-on vomiting. At first, Dusk was too preoccupied making a mental checklist of tools to see why.

It didn’t last long.

Some tools were clean, but not all; splatters of blood and excised tissue smeared their surface and created minute pools beneath them. Hanging above each cistern was a green cocoon, containing pony remains – each one mutilated beyond recognition.

None of them bore cutie marks, their magic sucked dry by Luna-only-knows what.

Many were missing limbs altogether, removed with surgical precision and stored in neat rows alongside each pit. Though she couldn’t exactly see from this angle, Dusk was certain some of those pony parts floated in the vats. It reminded her of the cutting room floor in a Griffon Kingdom’s butcher shop; only instead of eviscerated livestock, it was ponies.

“Are these the prisoners you’re looking for?” Kirix asked with a mocking grin.

Dusk offered no reply. What is all this? she thought, forcing her mind back to more practical matters. This… is the engineer’s room. What does an engineer do? Designs stuff. Large-scale stuff. Machines, trains, buildings. What does a changeling have need for…? No, it can’t be. Nopony… no changeling would ever use body parts for… oh, dear sweet Luna...

“This…” Winter attempted to describe the scene, but nothing more came out. For the first time since her transformation into a Lunar Pegasus, she was speechless.

“Sorry if they’re a little roughed up,” Kirix continued, ignoring his captors’ discomfort. “But if memory serves me right, your commander should be around here somewhere.”

“What are you doing to them?!” Breaking free from her flimsy restraints, Dusk slammed her hoof into Kirix’s face and knocked him to the ground. “Answer me, damn you! Tell me what this is for, before I bash your bucking skull in!”

Phantom leaped ahead of Dusk, wings flared. “Time out, time out!” she yelled, struggling to hold her sister back.

“Touchy, touchy,” Kirix said, wiping the blood from his mouth. “Well, I guess that means I’ve outlived my usefulness. Time to uphold my end of the bargain.”

Dusk didn’t see what Kirix did next, but she did hear it. With a clap of his hooves, the biggest vat began to bubble violently. The sound it made assaulted Dusk’s sensitive ears, a mixture of a guttural scream and the deepest thunderclap a Pegasus could create.

Then, a creature emerged, its appearance just as terrifying as its roar. Its head and torso were first to be seen, remnants of a pony with a deep-red coat and a wild yellow mane, its face partially obscured.

But as it raised itself higher from the vat, Dusk realized that the creature before her had long ceased to be a pony.

Four… six… eight… twelve limbs in total spread out, its total size more than quadruple the size of the original pony. Six of its limbs were legs, joined in three places and standing on a thick bundle of toes that were half way between a hoof and a claw.

Its forelimbs had been severed at the shoulder, replaced with crab-like appendages that ended in pincers big enough to snap a pony in half. The final two limbs sprouted from stumps on its back, suggesting the creature had once been a Pegasus – though Dusk soon realized the wing replacements weren’t limbs at all.

They were cannons. Long, bony barrels hooked to the wing stumps through a bulging muscle mass, with a viscus, orange ooze dripping from the open ends.

Almost as intimidating was the thing’s tail. Far from the long hairs of a pony’s, this came closer to that of a manticore: a series of spherical segments, ending in a long, scythe-like blade.

As the creature rose to its full height, dozens of bio-tubes hissed, pumping litres of foreign chemicals into its body to rouse it from its dormant state. In so doing, the creature let out an incredible roar, thrashing itself free from the bio-tubes.

Buried somewhere amongst the incomprehensible bellows, a single word caught Dusk’s attention. A word filled with such malice, it may as well have come straight from the mouth of Nightmare Moon.

“Thestrals.”

The realization hammered her left and right.

She had been so focused on the grotesque extensions of the creature, she’d overlooked the more recognisable features. The coat, the mane. It couldn’t be, could it?

The pony’s cutie mark confirmed her suspicions.

A flaming mask.

“Oh my gosh!” Dusk exclaimed in a shocked shrill. “I-it’s the Lieutenant!”

“What are you babbling about?!” Phantom demanded.

“That chimera. It was… it is lieutenant Fire Storm!”

“You’re kidding, right?” Winter asked with an uncharacteristic quiver in her voice. “Dusk, please tell me you’re not serious!”

“Look at the cutie mark. That… thing over there is the same pony who gave us our mission!”

“Sounds like you three have a history with the Engineer’s newest experiment,” said Kirix nonchalantly. He slowly backed away from the sisters. “Well, you wanted to find the prisoners, so here’s our newest. Thank you for your time, honourable ponies, but it’s time for me to g-”

Kirix was dead before he hit the ground, a spear-tip lodged between the eyes.

“Winter!” Dusk scolded.

“My hoof slipped,” Winter replied, resuming her usual deadpan expression. “We would’ve killed him eventually.”

“Yeah, but not right away!” Phantom retorted. “He was still useful as a hostage.”

“I agree, Phantom, but we’ll discuss the timing later. Right now, we’ve got a bigger problem on our hooves.”

“Thestrals!” The construct’s guttural bellow echoed throughout the room, loud enough to shake the ground. “Hate Thestrals! Kill Thestrals!”

Rearing up onto its hind legs, the chimera slammed into the edge of its confines, crushing the stone pool underneath its massive weight.

Then the beast charged.

With no more time to argue, the sisters leapt into the air, their heightened reflexes narrowly saving them from certain doom. This beast was fast; faster than a thing of its size had any right to be.

The monster didn’t relent. With mechanical precision, its cannons rotated, unleashing a sudden burst of high-pressure fluid.

The trio scattered, making distance between them and the creature before the ceiling caved in.

No crashing rocks came. The ceiling didn’t collapse; it sizzled.

The vicious liquid was acid.

Glancing up at the melted hole, Dusk shuddered at the discovered implications.

She needed a plan, and quickly. “Phantom, Winter, horizontal triangle!”

Moving into formation, the sisters flew circles around the construct, keeping an even distance from each another as they assessed its fighting capabilities.

They didn’t have long to wait, the creature having already worked itself into a frothing rage. It flung its weapons in wild abandon, lashing out at whichever pony was closest, missing by the narrowest of margins. In turn, its frustration grew, pushing itself to quicken each successive attack.

“Hey, Dusk!” Phantom grunted, struggling to maintain formation while avoiding attacks. “Got any last-minute fight plans to share?”

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking!” In truth, Dusk was clueless. She knew of wing-blade combat, but this a creature was a walking arsenal!

Once more the wing-cannons rotated into position, firing another corrosive blast. This time, it wasn’t aiming directly for the ponies.

Dusk could only speculate how the countless hours of brutal surgery on the monstrosity effected its mental capacity. Changeling science remained still relatively unknown. Was this thing just another drone, or something more?

By the time Dusk realized what Fire Storm shot at, it was too late to warn her sisters. Rolling hard to the left, she shoved Winter out of the way.

As the huge, carved rock plummeted from the ceiling, Fire Storm swung out his claws, shattering the rock into thousands of projectile shards.

Using the forward momentum from her sister's shove, Winter grabbed Dusk's front hooves, tucked in her wings and dropped – dodging the shards by a hair.

Phantom was not quite so lucky. Dozens jammed into her legs, blood trickling from the wounds.

Rolling into her landing, Dusk rushed to regroup with Winter in tow. “Phantom!” she cried and dashed past the monster.

“I’m fine,” Phantom said, sweeping the shards away with her hoof. “No vitals hit, thanks to my armour.”

“Can you still fly?” Dusk asked, her voice straddling the line between concern and panic.

“Of course,” Phantom replied. “Now, what about that plan of yours?”

“I’ll tell you once we’re back in the air. Now move!”

Once more the three sisters scattered, barely getting off the ground before being assaulted by another round of shards. With each new angle of attack, Dusk ran mental simulation after simulation of potential outcomes, with each resulting the same.

Whoever designed this monstrosity was a genius. The cannons, the claws, the tail-scythe, it was the perfect counter to close-combat. What magical resistance it had, Dusk could only speculate.

“We could use your plan any time now, Dusk!” Phantom grunted, claws clashing against the tail-scythe.

“Working on it!” Dusk bit her lower lip; she still lied to them about that. There had to be some way of disabling the creature’s weapons. Otherwise, they’d all be fighting a war of attrition, destined to lose.

“Dusk?”

“What?!” Dusk snapped around, stopping short of shoving a dagger in Winter’s face. “Winter, what the heck are you doing? Phantom needs your help!”

“You want to get rid of Fire Storm’s weapons, don’t you?”

“Is Luna a princess?”

“There is another way.”

Dusk looked back at Phantom as she locked blades with Fire Storm.

Then, it all clicked.

“You don’t mean…”

“I do. But we’ve got a little role-playing to do first.”

Dusk looked back at Winter with a playful grimace.

This was going to be fun.

“Well, if you’re so smart, why don’t you come up with something better!”

Shrill bickering momentarily snatched Phantom’s attention away from the construct. Here we go again, she thought, pulling up into a tight, overhead loop to break out from combat.

“As a matter of fact, I will!”

Landing behind the nearest chemical pool, Phantom peered around the side to watch the drama between her sisters play out.

“Besides, how hard can it be to outsmart a dumb old Pegasus like Fire Storm?”

The construct froze, a frustrated scowl locked on its face as it held one claw above its head. Slowly, it turned its head around and looked at Winter.

Has it forgotten about me already? Phantom hoped to Luna that it had. She made a mental note to thank Winter for the timely save, should she get out alive.

“Thestrals…” the construct groaned.

“Oh, give it a rest, Winter! Even a filly wouldn’t fall for a plan like yours.”

“A filly, maybe. But an old deadbeat like Fire Storm? Far outclassed by the likes of us.”

Phantom took the clacking of Fire Storm’s pincers as a sign to stay out of its way. Though she wouldn’t admit it out loud, she urgently needed to take a breather and tend to her wounds.

For now, it was safer to let her sisters do their thing.

“Thestrals!” With an immense roar, the construct charged.

Dusk flew out of the way, but Winter didn’t. Instead, she just hovered in place; wings beating just enough to keep her aloft.

Phantom knew exactly what was coming next. There could be no margin for error.

Just before it snapped its claws shut, Winter dropped, pitched forward and tumbled between its legs. Then, she grabbed her spear and stabbed at its belly in one smooth motion.

The construct roared in pain, scuttling left and right in a frenzied attempt at squashing the bat pony beneath.

Winter simply rolled with it, striking with her spear again and again until the ground was covered in blood.

Phantom studied the monster’s movements. Despite Fire Storm’s focus on Winter, she knew better than to rush in right away. One wrong move, and they’d all be dead.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Trust Dusk’s plan, she thought. The trouble was, she had no verbal conformation of such plan. All she had to go on was the classic set up for a bait and switch, lacking any further details.

If she attacked at too soon, she could get in Dusk’s way, or worse: get caught by Fire Storm. But on the other hoof, leaving it too late could risk her sisters becoming overwhelmed. Dammit! She punched her hoof into the stone pool. I’ve gotta do something!

The construct’s roars were getting louder. By now, it had to be losing gallons of blood, yet it still showed no sign of slowing down. Whatever Winter’s gambit was, it wasn’t working.

For the sake of her sister, she had to act now.

Pulling off her weapons, Phantom unclipped the latch on her saddle bag and pulled out a small tube of paste. First-aid cream: an essential part of any soldier’s survival kit. Squeezing the contents over her cuts, she winced as the chemicals stung. Still,it did its job, covering the wounds and accelerating their regeneration.

She tossed the empty tube aside, clicked her claws back into place and silently began creeping toward the monster. Holding herself low to the ground, Phantom felt her muscles ache from the tension. She had to thank her training and experience obtained from her service in Princess Luna’s regiments; without them, the monster would have spotted her with ease.

The closer she got, the longer she held her breath, daring not to risk a stray exhalation. Inch by inch, she pressed herself on, stopping just a hair’s breadth away from the tail.

Then, just as Fire Storm stomped its legs, she pounced.

Shooting up and over the tail, Phantom landed on its back, digging her claws into the monster’s shoulders. “Dusk, now!”

Daggers out, Dusk swooped in from above, slipping through Fire Storm’s grasp and stabbing him in the throat.

Dusk had punctured an artery, but despite the blood’s flow into its throat, it didn’t falter.

Phantom knew it was up to her to deliver the deathblow.

Straddling its back with her rear hooves, Phantom pushed herself upright and leant backwards, slicing her claws straight through the base of Fire Storm’s tail scythe. Catching the severed weapon as it fell, she snapped herself forward and plunged the weapon into the back of the monster’s head.

Every muscle burning from exhaustion, she forced herself back into the air, joining her sisters as they flew away from the dying creature.

Yet there was no time to relax. Phantom had to be certain Fire Storm was dead. Only when she reached a safe distance did she face her foe again, preparing for the worst. She raised her shaking hooves once more.

Fire Storm’s cannons aimed for the sisters, but nothing came out.

With a broken curse on its lips, Fire Storm collapsed.

So, too, did Phantom.

“Easy there, sis. I’ve got you.” Catching Phantom, Winter fluttered to the ground.

“I’m… fine,” Phantom said between heavy breaths. “Just… need a moment.”

“We might not have a moment,” Dusk said as she landed, maintaining her battle stance.

“Dusk, the thing’s not moving,” Phantom said with an exhausted groan. “We’ve won. Save your strength.”

Silence fell between the Lunar Guard, all eyes on Fire Storm’s remains.

Several tense seconds passed, but nothing happened.

“C’mon, Dusk!” Phantom croaked and cautiously got up. “I told you already, the thing is-”

Before Phantom could finish, a tremendous shock-wave ripped through the air, a blaring noise that knocked the sisters off their hooves.

The sound turned into a constant thrum, causing vibrations so powerful that it permeated through the sisters’ bodies.

Dusk tried to resist, tried to move against the pressure. But she could not. The simple act of standing up made her muscles feel like they were bathed in molten lava.

Still, Dusk refused to surrender. Using every last ounce of strength she could muster, Dusk turned her head and looked back at Fire Storm.

The construct didn’t move. This didn't make sense. If Fire Storm wasn't making the sound, what was?
Just as quickly as it had arrived, the vibrations stopped…

…replaced instead by the nonsensical whining of an unseen creature. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” the voice cried with all the resonant harmony of sandpaper against a chalk board. “Do you ponies have any idea how much work I put into my creation?!”

Dusk tried to reply, but all that came out was an incoherent string of babbles.

“No other engineer could ever come close to my complex perimeters!” the voice continued.

Dusk didn't know whether the voice grew scratchier, or if it was just the headache such whining induced. “I was about to seal my position as high-engineer in chief amongst all changeling kind, but no! You had to come along and destroy my life’s purpose!”

Dusk didn’t answer, trying instead to stand up and find the source.

Winter spoke on her behalf instead. “Your ‘design’ was a living pony!” she yelled back between laboured breaths. “We ended its misery. Go and scuttle back to whatever hole you spawned from, or we’ll come for you next!”

The changeling Engineer let out a dry, hacking noise, which Dusk guessed was laughter. “You think I’m so easily intimidated by ponies- No, thestrals, I recall the red pony called you. You have no idea who has the upper hoof in this situation!”

Once more, the horrendous static blared.

Dusk screamed in agony, the sound tearing through her body greater than anything she'd felt before.

Were it not for her sensitive hearing, Dusk would have missed the stomach-wrenching gurgles of biotech gears among the din.

She directed her unfocused gaze upwards, she barely made out the skinny silhouette of a new figure emerging from the ceiling – lowered by a quartet of thick, leg-like appendages – identical to those attached to Fire Storm.

The new arrival looked roughly changeling shaped; as tall as Queen Chrysalis, sporting a long, jagged horn on its forehead and a pair of huge mandibles that arched out from its jaws. It landed on all four legs with grace unfit for its bulk, the additional limbs disconnected from the ceiling with a hiss.

At first, its movements were slow and stiff, plodding forward one limb after the other. All too soon its motions smoothed out, revealing more of its over-sized girth the closer it got.

With each breath harder to take, to wrap her hoof around a dagger’s hilt was a herculean effort. Grunting heavily, she fought back the protests of her nervous system and pointed her dagger at the mechanical aberration.

“Oh? What’s this?”

It took a moment for Dusk to recognize the changeling's voice. It wasthe engineer, wearing the huge changeling body like a suit of armour.

“The little pony wants to fight? Well, in that case, little pony had better watch her step!”
He slammed his hoof onto Dusk’s foreleg, her scream drowned out amongst the flood of noise.

“Or, rather, you’d better watch mine!” the engineer cackled at his own bad joke.

Dusk refused to let go of her dagger, trying to wriggle her leg free.

This only made the engineer press harder, tutting at Dusk through a toothy grin. “Ah-ah-ah, there’s no point struggling, little thestral. It’ll only prolong your suffering!”

Time was running out. If Dusk didn’t act soon, losing her leg would be the least of her worries.

Then, just as she felt her humerus beginning to crack, a tiny spark caught her eye.

It was faint, barely visible in the room’s harsh light. But to Dusk, it was a beacon of hope. As the engineer’s claws slowly descended over her, Dusk focused on the intermittent flickering from the bio-mech’s ankle, measuring the time between each spark.
Just as the claws almost closed over her shoulders, Dusk yanked her elbow back, shoved her dagger into the engineer’s leg and twisted the blade as much as her wrists allowed.

The engineer jerked back, a shower of sparks and fluid spewing from the wound as the bio-mech staggered across the room.

“What the ... how … you do?!” the engineer's frantic screams kept cutting out amongst the exoskeleton's static discharging. “I’ll get you for-” Before he could finish the threat, the bio-mech’s leg gave out.

Losing its balance, it lurched far to the left, slamming into the wall with a mighty crack, revealing one last surprise for Dusk and her squad.

A giant speaker, looking like something straight out of a DJ-Pon3 concert, rumbling to a stop.

And with it came a significant reduction in the paralysing noise.

All the opportunity Dusk needed.

Pulling a bomb from her saddle-bags, she took to the air and lobbed it at the engineer as hard as she could.

Just before the munition hit, the engineer ejected.

The walls shook from the blast, the engineer sent scampering off through the hole he came from. In his wake, the bio-mech laid still, reduced to a smouldering wreck.

Without it, the remaining speakers fell silent.

Dusk was the first to speak up. “Don’t think you can run forever, changeling!” she yelled. “Tell your masters this: The Night Witches are on the hunt!”

“That’s enough, Dusk.”

The gentle voice of Winter replaced the horrible static. “That’s enough,” she repeated, still cradling her unconscious sister in her arms.

Dusk didn’t reply right away, taking a moment to comprehend the aftermath.

She took a couple of deep breaths. There would be time for revenge later. For now, finding a way out was top priority.

On a hunch, Dusk flew over to investigate the smashed speaker. “Aha!” she said, gesturing past the bio-mech’s flaming wreckage. “There’s an access tunnel behind this wall. We can recover in there before we resume the hunt.”

“Lucky us,” Winter replied with a dry tone.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Dusk sighed, avoiding eye contact and nursing her bruised hoof. “I screwed up with the whole hostage plan. But we’re still alive. We can still finish the mission, so long as we don’t fall into any more obvious traps.”

Winter placed a hoof on her shoulder. “It’s okay, I’m not mad at you,” her tone softened. “I’m just frustrated at all the unseen variables making the mission tougher, you know?”

Dusk nodded and smiled a little at her sister’s use of technical language.

“Let’s just get out of here. We’ll figure our next move once Phantom’s awake.”

“Once again, you’re reading my thoughts!” Dusk chuckled, pulling Phantom onto Winter’s back. “Right this way, m’lady.”

“Oh my,” Winter replied with an exaggerated southern drawl. “I never knew you were such a gentlemare!”

Looking at each other, the two sisters tried to maintain a straight face, but soon burst into a fit of laughter.

“Y-You sure do make a good Applejack impression!” Dusk tried to stop giggling. “Anyway, you go on ahead. I’ve got trophies to claim.”

First, Dusk flew over to Fire Storm’s corpse and tore off the medals from the remains of his uniform. Next came the surgical tools above his spawning pool. With some effort, she snapped off a curved surgical knife and a bone-saw from their stands, sheathing them under her wings.

Finally, Dusk pulled out the last of her bombs from her saddle-bags, carefully hiding them underneath a pile of rubble at the room's entrance.

A little surprise for any changeling who would dare to pursue.
Dusk returned to her sisters and gave a quick buck to the inside wall, causing a small rockslide to cover her escape. She had no idea where the passage behind would lead, but as long as it wasn’t here, she'd be satisfied.

Through the winding service tunnels, Gitrix flew directly for the imperial chamber at the top of the hive spire.

He had news the changeling Emperor wasn’t going to like. He replayed the events over in his mind and muttered to himself, trying to find some way of putting a spin on his disastrous failure.

The title of “Emperor” wasn’t just a self-proclaimed matter of grandiosity. Gitrix knew his master could be the only one befitting of such a powerful position, unifying all changelings who remained true to the cause.

Many a ruler before had tried to overthrow the Equestrian autocracy. Despite her propensity towards over-stating her power, Gitrix knew Queen Chrysalis had never lacked the force to back it up.

But the Emperor? He was on a whole different level. The only reason he hadn’t toppled Canterlot already was because, unlike Chrysalis, he knew how to play the long game without dramatically revealing his plans minutes before their execution.

He was a changeling who taught Gitrix the principles behind bio-engineering. The science of moulding weapons and armour from living tissue was a central pillar of his rule. Through this, he had proven changelings could thrive – free from petty pony principles like ‘friendship’ and mongrel alliances.

As he ascended, the magic-carrying arteries of the hive gradually merged into one, culminating into a huge siphon of emotion. No matter where he went in the hive, he could always find his way back to the throne room by following these power lines.

“GITRIX!”

The engineer cringed at the echoing bellow. “Y-yes, Lord!” Gitrix called back, racing to confront his master. “I’m at your assistance, Lord!”

Flying through an open access hatch, the engineer dropped before the throne. He dared not look at his master’s face, knowing by the magic’s colour that he was in trouble.

“I was told you had the invading ponies under control,” the Emperor said in an ominously deep voice. “Now I learn you failed to kill them and allowed them to destroy your lab. Is that correct?”

“I-it’s not quite that simple, Lord,” Gitrix replied, tensing his leg muscles to stop them shaking. “But essentially, yes.”

“Stand up, you fool,” the Emperor scolded. Gitrix obeyed. “Well? Explain yourself. Tell me why you failed to kill the intruders.”

Gitrix took a deep breath and blurted out his answer; “There were technical malfunctions with-”

“Technical malfunctions, you say?” The Emperor leaned on one hoof, rhythmically tapping the other on the arm of his throne. Despite his even tone, he still spoke with a great volume; no doubt wanting every changeling within the upper halls to hear the justification. “Technical malfunctions…” he repeated. “Well, I suppose even the best systems are prone to little imperfections.”

“Precisely, my Lord-”

“Quiet!”

Gitrix fell silent.

“You will speak when I tell you to speak.”

Gitrix said nothing.

“Good.” Leaning back into his throne, the Emperor gestured to another changeling behind Gitrix. “Sethictus, where are the ponies now?”

Another engineer stepped forward. She was identical to Gitrix in all but one respect; her large eyes hid behind bio-tech goggles, attached to the back of her head by vein-like wires. Her jagged horn lighting up, Sethictus projected a complex grid matrix of the engineering room. “As you can see, my Lord, the location monitors have been damaged, so we don’t have specifics. However, they all went dark in sequential order, starting here.”

Sethictus’ magic highlighted a voided area on the map, magnifying the projection as her goggles rotated. “We have guard drones stationed a few sectors away, ready to be deployed at your command.”

The Emperor didn’t reply immediately. “No,” he said. “Just ensure all guards above hive level two are accompanied by enforcers. The threat level is too high for unsupervised drones – or less skilled combatants.”

Gitrix knew that last part was directed at him.

“Now, Gitrix,” the Emperor said. “Based on your performance thus far, I think it’s time you received a little upgrade, don’t you?”

“No, please!” Gitrix screamed and bolted for the door. Sethictus caught him in her magic.

“Thank you, Sethictus,” the Emperor gave her a light nod.

“It’s my pleasure to serve you, Lord,” Sethictus replied, the edges of her mouth raising slightly as she bowed.

“Lord, please, reconsider!” Gitrix kept crying. “I can do better! I have more tools I can use against the thestrals! Please, I beg you, don’t turn me into a drone!”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” the Emperor waved a hoof in dismissal. “You’re too useful to be a drone…”
Gitrix breathed a premature sigh of relief, not realizing that his Emperor hadn’t finished speaking.

“Your legs, however, are expendable. Sethictus, ensure that this engineer is fit for service by the time you return.”

“At your service, my Lord.” Taking a bow, Sethictus looked up at the changeling she held in her magic. Pulling him into the shadows, she rubbed her hooves together and grinned. “I won’t lie to you, Gitrix. This is going to hurt. A lot.”

Author's Note

This chapter was a pain in the arse to right. A visual style trying to depict the effects of a sound is NOT easy! Hence why it took so long. But here it is, I hope it was worth the wait!