Echo Sierra Bravo

The radio began to crackle as Richardson found the last cord and plugged it in. While it shouldn’t have taken more than five minutes for the experienced radio operator to undo the damage he had done, he was unfortunately alone in his task. Walker had no real experience with the technical aspects of the radio system, and the other two men who had made up his command team were gone. One sat under a blanket on the heli-pad, a black hole in his head, while Richardson claimed the other had been grabbed by three changelings. The man had fallen silent after that, had just quietly gone about his work. Walker didn’t press the issue.

After half an hour of managing the setup of their new defenses, Richardson had called him into the tent, and now the radio was alive once more. Richardson immediately slid into his usual position. He gave Walker a thumbs up, and Walker picked up the transceiver, depressing the function button.

“Overlord, this Echo Sierra Bravo, how copy?”

The reply was immediate.

“Echo Sierra Bravo, this is Overlord. We lost you for a few minutes there, what is the status of your position? Over.”

Walker sighed and wiped away some water from his forehead. The rain had slowed, but it hadn't stopped as they worked. His uniform was close to being soaked through, and Walker couldn't help but feel that it wasn't going to be dry any time soon.

“Overlord this is Captain Walker, Echo Sierra Bravo is operational, but my unit is combat ineffective. We took a hell of a beating. Over.”

“Captain, has your position been compromised? Over.”

“Affirmative Overlord. I have my men pulled back to the heli-pad on new defensive positions. The enemy overran the old ones. over.”

“Captain, what is your current troop strength? Over.”

Walker peeked out of the tent, did a quick count.

“Overlord, I have maybe a dozen combat effective guys, and maybe two dozen wounded on top of that. We are low on ammo and medical supplies. I’ll need to abandon the position and withdraw if we don’t get reinforcements. Over.”

“Negative on your last Bravo. You need to keep that position up. Over.”

Walker ran his tongue across his teeth.

“Can I expect reinforcements then Overlord? Or at least resupply?”

“Negative Captain. We are engaged on all points across the board and there are positions that are hot right now. Are you currently engaged with enemy contacts?”

Walker frowned in frustration.

“Negative Overlord, but I expect that to change. My men are dry clicking out here, if nothing else we need ammunition. We will have to pull out if we don’t get some assistance. Over.”

“That is a negative on withdrawal. Captain, you need to hold that position with the forces you have.”

Walker wanted to laugh. Not a laugh filled with humor, but rather one of oozing desperation.

“Negative Overlord, we’re hanging on a thread here. If it weren’t for those pony things showing up…”

“Captain please repeat your last,” the radio cut in. “Did you say you were reinforced by ponies?”

Walker rubbed his forehead again.

“Yes and no Overlord. They swept in and took out the bugs that were hammering us. Only four are still here, the rest continued in pursuit of the enemy.”

The radio fell silent. Walker waited for thirty seconds for a response. He looked to Richardson, who shrugged in reply. Walker pressed the function button.

“Overlord, are you still there?”

The radio remained silent. Walker waited again. As he took a breath and prepared to ping the radio again, it sprung to life.

“Echo Sierra Bravo be advised; the pony forces are designated as friendlies. While we have not made contact with their operational leadership, they have been spotted across the board. Until they do something we don’t like, they are to remain as friendly contacts. How copy?”

Walker nodded.

“I copy Overlord. What about our reinforcements? Over.”

“Captain Walker be advised; there will be no reinforcements. You will maintain your current position with your current forces, any less will be seen as a dereliction of duty. How copy?”

Walker exchanged a glance with Richardson.

“Overlord, I believe I didn’t quite catch your last. We are to maintain our current position, but we will not be receiving reinforcements?”

“That is correct Captain.”

Walker groaned.

“Overlord, maybe I have not made my situation clear. We are low on ammo, men, and medical supplies. We are combat ineffective and need immediate resupply or we will be forced to withdraw. I cannot maintain this position with my current forces. How copy?”

“Captain Walker be advised; you will maintain that position. You have already failed once tonight; this is your second chance to make things right or you will be relieved of your command.”

That sent a shock through Walker.

“What failure would that be Overlord?” he asked numbly.

“You made us look bad Captain," the voice replied. "These ponies have begun pitching in all over, but as you have said, it took direct intervention to salvage your position. You have demonstrated that we need their help, and that is unacceptable. It will only give them leverage in the future when diplomatic contact is made. You have disgraced yourself, and have disgraced our division.”

Walker felt anger rising in his chest. He clamped down on it, making sure it stayed under control, keeping it from his voice. He couldn't well explode at his superiors. He needed to convince them to give some sort of reinforcements, and fighting them wouldn't help. Reason was the only step he could think to take.

“Overlord what should I have done? I did not ask them to intervene. They did so of their own volition.”

“Captain you should have showed strength. You should have been able to push the enemy back and demonstrated that we, as a nation, are strong.”

“Overlord we had no ammunition! Would you have had me assault the enemy with sharp sticks and harsh language?”

“If that is what it took. We will discuss this no further. Remain at your post, and try not to fuck it up. Overlord out.”

Walker held the transceiver in silence. He wanted to say something in response. He briefly thought about ordering a retreat anyway, out of spite. But no, he couldn’t. Couldn’t let anger affect his decisions, couldn’t even show it to his men, knew he would only fire them up against their superiors. Walker calmly handed the transceiver to Richardson, who set it down.

“What next Captain?” the radio operator asked.

Walker sighed and rubbed his face.

“We follow our orders Private; we remain here for the time being; we fight off any enemy that comes our way.”

“Respectfully sir, how?” the man asked, removing his headset, carefully placing it on its hooks.

Walker turned away and stared at the barely lit walls of the tent.

“We make do Private. That’s what soldiers are supposed to do, right?”

Richardson accepted the answer silently. The two stared at nothing, each lost in his own thoughts. They were broken from their contemplation by a trio of men running in to stand in the tent’s doorway, obscuring the light.

“Captain we have a situation out here.”

Walker looked up, a question on his lips when he heard the yelling, more than surprised that he hadn’t noticed it before. He gestured the man to walk and talk, and Richardson and the other men fell in behind them as they walked outside. The rain was still falling in a drizzle, making the darkness outside of the lights seem even blacker. Flashes still popped out through the trees, but they were fainter now as the fight rolled away from their position.

“They won’t let us go out any further Captain,” the private said. “I know I saw at least one of our guys moving out there, but there’s gotta be more sir. At the very least there’s ammo out there and we need all of that we can get Captain.”

Walker held his hand up to silence the man as they approached the scene. Princess Luna was gone, but had left several more ponies behind. Numbering six now, two of them looked like plain horses, just a bit smaller, and decked out in armor. The last one had a horn, and was the one doing the most arguing with the man Walker identified as one of the company medics.

“Sergeant Philips, what seems to be the problem here?” he asked forcefully, butting his way into the argument.

The man looked to Walker, a smile momentarily passing over his face.

“Captain, I was just trying to explain to this fuzzy headed idiot that we need to go out to retrieve our wounded and dead.”

“I have already told you that it isn’t safe yet!” The pony looked desperately at Walker. “You are Captain Walker, yes? I am Guard Captain Shining Armor. Princess Luna simply needs a few minutes to sweep the area for any remaining changelings. Then you can go out to look for your wounded, I promise you. Buck, we’ll even help! We just need to make sure there isn’t a threat.”

“Captain a few minutes may be too long!" Phillips cut in. "I only barely stabilized the wounded we already have, and I got to work on them as they dropped. We lose lives the longer we wait.”

Walker considered both sides of the argument, but mentally, he knew exactly the choice he was going to make. His men were out there, and had the potential to come out alive. More men healing meant more fighters down the line. Walker could already tell that there would be nothing short about their conflict with the changelings, and they'd need as many people as possible. Still, he didn't want to cause issues if he didn't have to, and a minute or two of wait wouldn't kill anyone who wasn't already dead. He looked to Shining Armor and asked;

“Tell me Captain, how much longer will Princess Luna be gone?”

The pony shrugged.

“Twenty, maybe thirty minutes?” he replied.

Walker’s frown deepened.

“That is unacceptable. Sergeant take who you need and get to work. Assemble the wounded in the radio tent. Richardson will clear space.”

The medic smiled gratefully, and began to start forward, only for the Equestrians to draw their weapons. Captain Armor shook his head and sighed.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that Captain Walker. I have my orders. Nobody is to leave the perimeter of lights until the princess returns. It’s for your own safety.”

Walker felt the men around him tense up. He, however, let no emotion creep onto his face. He merely bowed his head silently and turned away as if to leave. His men watching him in disbelief, while the Equestrians seemed to relax for a moment. A nearly silent sigh of relief passed between them.

Then Walker whirled around, his sidearm drawn and pointed at Captain Armor’s forehead. He made sure that a look of murderous intent was clear in his eyes. Rifles and swords raised. Shouts from both sides yelled to the other to drop their weapons, but Walker merely waited. Captain Armor met his gaze with tired eyes, but he didn't seem angry at the turn of events, if anything, it seemed like he understood.

“Listen well Captain Armor" Walker said. "I will be told by nobody that I am not to retrieve men, my men who are wounded. This is how it will happen. We will move forward. We will retrieve our dead and wounded. We will do so without interference on your part. For your own safety of course.”

The pony flinched as Walker bent his words against him. Armor glanced to his sides, likely calculating how fast his ponies could move to disarm or kill the humans. Walker knew he had the situation well in hand however.

“Think carefully Captain. Your soldiers may get me in a rush, but I can guarantee that you will not see it. This ends one of two ways,” Walker said, crushing any stupid actions the pony might attempt dead in their tracks.

Captain Armor met his gaze again, and in it he saw defeat, with a glimmer of respect and understanding. Without lowering his sidearm, Walker nodded at Phillips.

“Get to work Sergeant. Get our boys out.”

The medic slung his rifle over his shoulder, pushing past the ponies. Quickly, another man followed, then another. Walker waited while each man pushed their way past the armored ponies, climbing into the sea of bodies to look for fallen comrades. Richardson grabbed another private by the arm and dragged him toward the command tent, giving him a basic rundown on how to move the radio equipment safely. Walker slowly lowered his pistol and re-holstered it, never breaking eye contact with Captain Armor. He then followed his men, pushing past the ponies to begin searching for the dead and wounded.

It was a grizzly scene before him, and Walker was somewhat glad for the dimness of the light and the rain that still worked to clean away the pools of gore. Black shelled bodies were stacked high. Some pieces occasionally twitched despite their separation from their body. Walker had to toss aside more than one leg, some of the them flailing in his grip. It was distasteful, but while he let a disgusted scowl creep over his face, Walker didn't stop working. They needed to find the wounded.

“Movement front!” a cry rang out.

Rifles cracked at the fleeing black shape as it crawled out from beneath a pile of bodies. The changeling made it five steps before a round tore through the back of its head. Two men ran forward, checking to make sure it was truly dead. They were completely exposed, and if another changeling came through the destroyed gate, both soldiers could be dead in an instant. They had no cover, nor any covering fire. Walker scowled, that wouldn’t do.

“Private Cook! Front and center.” he called out.

The man quickly responded, moving as fast as the piles of bodies would allow. He ran up to Walker and saluted sharply.

“Yes sir?”

“Man the .50. If anything moves that isn’t us, shoot it.”

“Yes sir.”

The man sprinted toward the large gun, hoping up quickly as he began inspecting it, pulling a rag free from his vest to clean away any gore from the action. Walker looked around their position, then narrowed his eyes as he spotted an ideal position.

“Campbell! I want you up on that wall,” he said pointing to the grey pillar of stone that signified the entrance to the evacuation site. “Take a flare with you, I want to know if the enemy is coming before he’s kicking down our door.”

The man nodded and ascended the ladder leading to the walkway. He had to shove more than a few bodies to the ground, but eventually the private settled into a crouch, his rifle trained outward. Feeling a bit more secure against unwanted surprises, Walker resumed his search. He ignored the stares he could feel digging into his back. He didn’t particularly care what the ponies thought of him, saviors or not. He simply went to work, scanning for the tan and brown that signified a human uniform amongst the see of black bodies.

The calls began rising into the air quickly. Sergeant Phillips darted between cases with a sharpie, the brutal unkind work of triage. As their only remaining medic, Walker knew that the man had to pick cases carefully. One man could only save so many by himself. The dead were dragged away, set beside the sandbags around the heli-pad, their ammunition and weapons stripped away as his men reloaded their weapons. If things went right this thing would never have to happen, but things never went right, did they? As they were dragged from the mountains of bodies, the cries of the wounded grew louder. Walker welcomed each cry, another survivor, another justification for his desperate actions. Wounds could heal, the dead could not.

Walker kicked aside another bug corpse, goo leaking out of a hole in its throat onto his boot. He drew his sidearm as he saw the remaining corpses in the stack shift. Then he saw the hand trying to break free. He re-holstered the gun and began moving bodies furiously, determined to free the pinned man. As he lifted a body, he heard the weak cries for help.

He saw a patch of uniform, a smear of red, and as he shifted the last body aside, he saw the face of his target. Walker couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Lieutenant Frank Hughes, the big man a fast friend and longtime subordinate of Walker’s. He was one of Walker’s favorite people to talk with on long nights when sleep was impossible. Unfortunately, the man was clearly wounded; blood stained his uniform and a puddle of goo filled the foxhole the man was laying in.

“Hello?” the man weakly said, his hand trying block the light from reaching his eyes.

Walker kneeled beside him and began scanning him for wounds.

“Hey Frank, it’s me.” Over his shoulder he shouted, “Medic!”

Hughes smiled weakly; his eyes glazed with pain.

“Hey Captain, good to see you. I’m afraid I can’t shake your hand though; I can’t feel it no more.”

Walker quickly found a deep black burn in the man’s right shoulder. A large chunk of meat was gone, and blood seeped slowly from the wound. Walker patted the man on his good shoulder.

“Not a problem Frank. I’m going to get you some help, then you’re going to be right as rain and fighting again.”

The man giggled.

“I don’t think so Captain. It hurts something fierce. Think I need to go to a hospital, seem some nice doctors and pretty nurses.”

Walker shifted as he tried to let more light into the hole, only for Hughes to gasp in pain. Walker saw his knee sitting on the man’s thigh, saw a just of bone poking out of his pants below that. Walker shifted again to alleviate the pressure he had caused. Walker licked his lips and called out again.

“Medic!”

He needed help if he was going to lift the big man out of the pile of corpses, hell, the man’s other leg was still buried under several changeling corpses. Hughes raised his head and looked at his leg.

“Aw man, the bugs broke my leg.”

Walker gently pushed his head back down.

“Don’t look at that Frank, were going to get it taken care of, no problem.”

The big man pushed back, the shock causing him to try to put eyes on his wounds. Walker grabbed his arm with his other hand as the man bucked, trying to get free.

“Frank, I need you to stay calm for me. You’re only going to make it worse.”

The man let out a screech as the bodies shifted and one brushed against his torn shoulder. He started fighting harder, and Walker struggled to keep him still. He called out again, his voice angrier.

“I need a medic over here now!”

He continued to try and calm the panicking man and Walker felt relief as a shadow temporarily blocked out the light as a body dropped into the hole next to him. Walker scooted aside, trying his best to keep the man from moving.

“He’s got a nasty burn on his right shoulder and at least one compound fracture in his left leg,” Walker listed off through gritted teeth, hopefully saving the medic time.

“Alright, lets get him out of here first, then I’ll take a look. He’s going to get an infection or worse if he stays in all of this goo.”

Walker nodded silently and shifted around as he prepared to grab Hughes’ shoulders. He froze when he saw who had dropped into the hole with him. It was a pony, in all white armor, a red cross decorating its rear. Noticing his lack of movement, the pony looked up at Walker. The pony waved at him with a hoof.

“Sir? Are you alright sir?”

Walker shook his head, startled out of his stupor by the pony's words. He nodded briskly.

“Yeah, I’m fine, on three.”

The pony nodded, and the two lifted Hughes’ from the foxhole. They carried him a few feet away before gently laying him down. Three more ponies swiftly descended, bandages quickly finding their way to wounds as they talked amongst themselves, diagnosing any injuries Walker may have missed. Hughes’ seemed to have a moment of clarity, for he called out.

“Captain? Captain?!?” he began to flail more violently.

Walker butted in, grabbing the man’s hand.

“I’m here Frank. Stay calm, they're trying to help you.”

Hughes looked at him with wide, fear-filled eyes. Walker’s calm expression seemed to help him relax, however, and he nodded. His eyes drifted closed and Walker was shoved away rudely by the ponies. He let it go however, knew he had nothing to contribute. No experience with wounded. It was better to let the experts do their jobs. Walker gazed around the fortifications, saw a series of similar scenes unfolding. Where there had previously been only six ponies were now several dozen, most seeming to be medics of some flavor. They all wore pale white armor, which made them stand out plainly amongst the changeling corpses. His men would dig out a wounded man and the ponies would descend, quickly treating whatever wounds had brought the soldier down. Blankets had been provided as well, and Walker grimly spotted a long line of covered bodies. Far too long.

Walker decided to begin doing his actual job, and he walked forward, finding his way to the ladder. As he began to climb a wail echoed out. Finishing his climb, Walker turned around. One of his soldiers was on their knees, their rifle falling to the side. Walker knew what the man was reacting too, had seen it far too often. A corpse was pulled out of a foxhole and the wailing soldier simply collapsed, falling on his side. He curled into a ball as another wail split the air. Ponies moved there as well, and while he couldn’t hear them, Walker was sure that they were comforting the man. He could see the rest of his men watching the scene play out as he was. As they carried the broken man away, the rest of the humans simply returned to their grisly work. They knew better than to dwell.

Walker swallowed roughly, shoved down his own emotions. He felt the creep of desperation, of fear, and of overwhelming grief. He ignored all of it, tucking it away until the time was right to feel anything. Death was only going to grow more common, he couldn’t afford to break, couldn’t afford to even crack. His men needed him. Time to work.

Walker moved stiffly along the fortification. He looked at the sky as he walked, could see a myriad of different color flashes. He saw more than one explosion, tried not to think of some pilot being driven from his throne on high. He prayed silently for the flyboys, wished only that more of them would survive so they could drop more bombs.

Private Campbell didn’t look up as Walker stopped behind him. His eyes were trained outward, tired eyes that remained wide as he struggled to see shapes in the darkness. The rain certainly didn’t make that job any easier.

“All quiet up here Private?”

Campbell looked over his shoulder at Walker, then he snorted and looked back outward.

“Yes sir, it is. Nothin’ movin’ out there as far as I can tell.”

“Good,” Walker replied shortly.

Neither said anything for a moment, then Campbell looked back at Walker.

“Sir if I may, do we need help back there? I heard that awful sound.”

“It’s better if you stay up here Private," Walker replied. "Use your eyes the right way. Keep us safe.”

Campbell nodded; his mood subdued. After another second of silence, he asked;

“Captain, what was that sound?”

“Put it out of your mind Private. Just focus on your job here.”

“Captain, I think after tonight, I have a right to know.”

Walker sighed. He braced his hands against the rough concrete and stared into the darkness.

“Johnson snapped. Saw something he shouldn’t have ever seen. It was just too much. Can’t blame him for that.”

Campbell seemed to pause in thought. He then swallowed audibly.

“That gonna happen to me Captain?”

A bright flash lit up their faces. Walker looked for a mushroom cloud, saw nothing. He took that as a good sign. He knew there was little hope left if nukes were dropped. Walker hoped it was just good old-fashioned shock and awe.

'Kill them all,' he thought, a smile touching the corners of his mouth.

To Campbell he said;

“It’s certainly possible Private. It could happen to any of us. No training on this planet can ever prepare you for seeing your buddies dead. It just isn’t the kind of thing that’s supposed to happen. All I ask is that if you feel that feeling creeping up, you come to me and let me know. This job is important, and I need someone up here or we're going to have a few more dead buddies tonight.”

The man flinched and turned away. Walker silently cursed himself; his words had come across much harsher than he had intended. Walker let out a deep breath, focused his mind. He needed to be blunt, and comforting, not just blunt. He looked to Campbell.

“I apologize Private, that was cold. We all have a duty to do, we can’t afford to freeze up. I don’t blame or look down on Johnson, wish he’d never been in that situation to begin with. He broke down and that’s that, we just have to keep going.”

“And just where are we going Captain?” Campbell asked.

“Tonight?" Walker asked. "Nowhere. We find who we can, we find what we can. We’re going to arm up and hold here till the sun rises. Hopefully we’ll get some reinforcements, but I doubt that. This shit show has everything all screwy. Come morning we’ll poke our heads out, see if we can link up with anyone else. If everything goes well, we’ll centralize our wounded, maybe get some real firepower through here.”

“After that sir?”

Walker’s gaze hardened, as did his voice.

“Then we settle the score,” he said darkly.

Campbell nodded somberly. After a second a grin broke out on his face.

“Yes sir, I like the sound of that. We’ll teach them stupid bugs a lesson. Yes sir, that sounds like a real plan. I’d like to volunteer for whatever probe you need sir. Kill me a few more. Settle the score, yes sir.”

Walker clapped him on the shoulder.

“Good man. Stay sharp and you have my word you’ll go out. Relief will be by in a few so you can rest up.”

The man grinned and nodded, a new energy in his eyes as he shifted. His rifle poked over the edge of the wall and he began sweeping side to side a snail’s pace. Walker could feel the steel in the movement, knew he had made at least one of his men feel worthwhile. Now to do it again.

******

Walker sat on a crate, his hands working mechanically as he helped a pair of his men in unloading half-used magazines into a bucket. They each had a small stack of bloody and battered magazines sitting next to them, the good work of the scavengers. Once he had personally checked in with each man, Walker found that he had little to do. With the overwhelming number of Equestrians streaming about the position, Walker decided to help with a simple, but necessary job; reloading magazines so that they could evenly distribute the ammo they had found. It wouldn’t last long in a fire fight, but it was better than what they were carrying.

So, Walker had grabbed a bucket and set up near the stack of destroyed vests and rifles. Truly sorting them would come later, but Walker had picked out a functioning rifle, then had set to work removing magazines from the rifles and vests, dropping the unused rounds into the bucket to be reloaded into fresh magazines. Two men had soon joined him, whether physically or mentally exhausted, Walker had welcomed them and the three had quickly gone about the task of emptying every single round into the bucket. Once that was finished, they reversed the process, filling magazine after magazine to capacity, setting them in a pile. Walker knew the monotony of the task was mind numbing, but honestly, that’s what they all needed right now. Simple, stupid labor to keep from thinking too much.

A shadow fell across the bucket, and Walker looked up. Princess Luna frowned as she looked down at him. Walker finished loading the magazine in his hands and slid it into an empty slot on his vest. Pointing to the two soldiers, he said;

“Everyone gets one magazine first. Then distribute the rest as evenly as possible.”

The pair mumbled yes sirs, and Walker got to his feet, rubbing at his cramping thighs. Squinting, he looked at the pony beside him.

“What can I do for you Princess?” he asked.

“Would not such a menial task be best reserved for the common soldier?” she asked.

Walker shrugged.

“A good leader asks nothing of his men that he won’t do himself. Everyone is doing more important stuff anyway; this was the best way I could pitch in.”

She smiled at his answer.

“Well said Captain. I imagine we shall have a long and prosperous relationship together.”

Walker chuckled.

“Maybe not Princess. If command has their way, I’ll be relieved of duty as soon as someone qualified shows up to take my place.”

Princess Luna frowned.

“And for what reason might they relieve you? You seem a capable fighter and a careful diplomat. These are excellent qualities for a leader.”

“Command told me to hold my ground here. Before all of this,” Walker said, gesturing at the mad scrambling of ponies. “I have eleven fighting men left, and at the time we had no ammunition. I wanted to withdraw, get some supplies, a few more guys maybe, and then we could hole up here. Command told me I was a coward, and that I shouldn’t have accepted your help. How did they phrase it? Oh yeah, I made them look bad.”

“By accepting help in battle? That is a ridiculous notion,” Princess Luna replied.

Walker shrugged and looked at the mud on his boots.

“Command seems to believe you’ll use saving our position as diplomatic leverage.”

The pony seemed aghast at the idea, and her face showed it. Despite the clear difference in species, Walker was both surprised, and happy that he could still read her expressions clearly. They may have been shaped like horses, but the ponies emoted like humans. Perhaps it was the eyes, those seemed to team with life and intelligence. Walker blinked himself back into focus as Luna replied.

“What an utterly ludicrous thought!" the blue pony declared. "We assisted you because you needed assistance. There is no intent beyond that.”

Walker shrugged again.

“To some people that’s a foreign concept. Doing the right thing because it’s right and for no other reason, just doesn't sit right with them. I cannot tell you why.”

“And what of you Captain? Would you run now?”

Walker looked her in the eyes, his lip curling in anger.

“I didn’t want to run before. I'd hold the position alone if I had the ammunition, but I won’t send my men to an early grave on the whims of some idiot thirty miles back staring at a map. My plan was a tactical retreat to resupply and rearm, get our wounded treated, the like.”

Princess Luna remained calm, her face passive.

“Is that still your plan Captain?”

Walker sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“No.” The anger left his voice. “We can’t abandon the position now. Twelve guys can disappear into the dark and nobody would know. I couldn’t do it with all of your ponies here now. Won’t leave them behind either, it isn’t right.”

Princess Luna smiled.

“A good answer Captain. I am glad to hear it. I have not met many humans yet, but I hope many share your mentality. It is an honorable one.”

Walker smiled, looking away.

“Thank you, Princess. Just doing my job the way it should be done.”

“Do not discount your actions Captain. You value the lives of your soldiers, and have now extended that value to my ponies as well, despite them being alien in every way. It demonstrates a strong heart.”

“What would you have me do Princess?" Walker said with a shrug. "To say you saved our lives would be an understatement. Me being anything less than grateful would be an act of shame.”

“Nevertheless, you have my thanks Captain. War is a horrible thing, but it can bring out the best in ponies.”

“Quite a price to pay for it though.”

Princess Luna simply nodded in agreement. Walker ran his tongue across his teeth, wished he had something to drink. His canteens had a hole in them however, and he was unsure of how it got there. What was important however, was that all of his water was gone. Beside the mist on his face, he had nothing to drink until he filled up a new set. He sighed and checked his rifle. Princess Luna watched him with mild fascination as he managed the weapon, but didn't comment on it. She instead asked;

“Captain, it the intention of my sister and I to establish our base of operations here. Will this cause any problems with your command?”

Walker fiddled with his rear sight.

“Probably, but they can’t say no, and I certainly won’t. I can’t say enough how grateful I am for you coming when you did. On top of that, your medics are treating my wounded without question. As far as I’m concerned, you have more than earned the right to the position. If you need us to move out, let me know. I’ll take whatever flak comes my way from command.”

“That will not be needed Captain," Princess Luna replied. "In fact, I was hoping to make use your services. It will take some time until the full might of Equestria is brought to bear through a series of portals, and even then, it will be sent out to fight the changelings. I would request your forces provide additional security for this location in the interim.”

Walker aimed the rifle, satisfied with the results of his tampering. He slung it over his shoulder easily, taking comfort in the weighted down feeling of a loaded firearm. He grinned at the pony beside him.

“I really can’t say no, can I? What kind of host would that make me?”

He thumbed away condensation from the tip of his nose as he looked at the fortifications.

“I can put a few of my guys up on the walls to act as lookouts once they finish finding the wounded. I just need to switch out the gunner and the point man, put them somewhere a bit less intensive for an hour or two, let them rest.”

Princess Luna blanched for a moment, then began rapidly shaking her head.

“No no no,” the blue pony backpedaled. “I apologize Captain, I meant in the morning. Your men have already been through enough this night and are likely exhausted. No, they need to rest, as do you. My ponies will occupy the walls until sunup, then you will take over until my sister returns.”

Walker looked out into the darkness, his face changing into a frown.

“If you need our assistance tonight, I am more than happy to provide it Princess. We've fought on less sleep before.”

“Trust me when I say it is unnecessary, Celestia is likely routing the local changelings as we speak. It should be a quiet evening.”

“Captain!” a voice shouted in spite of Princess Luna's words.

Walker’s eyes locked on to the red flare being waved back and forth through the air as Private Campbell pointed out over the wall. It took only a second for a green beam to rip through his chest, and he fell, dropping from the walkway to the corpse strewn ground below. The .50 cal roared up as black bodies rushed through the open gate.

“Contact front!” came the cry, but Walker was already sprinting forward.

He hit the sandbags next to the .50 at a full run, the air driven from his lungs as he impacted. He ignored the sensation as he picked out targets, the rifle in his arms jerking as he fired. He was joined quickly by the rest of his men. Ammo had been distributed, and they put it to good work.

Changeling bodies tumbled as they tried to rush the position. More than a few bugs climbed the bodies of their dead comrades only to be driven back down as the .50 tore the head from their shoulders. Thunder cracked overhead, and Walker watched with fascination as a lightning bolt tore through the sky, impacting within the horde of changelings. The affect was instantaneous. Dozens of charred bugs simply slumped over, while others writhed on the ground. The rest turned tail and fled, and Walker waved his arms to order the cease fire, as most of his men had been rendered temporarily deaf.

Walker waited for any additional glowing eyes to poke out of the darkness, and when none did, he rose from behind the sandbags. He held his hand up, motioning for his men to stay back as he moved forward. He poked at the bugs as he moved past, kicking them to ensure they were truly dead. When nothing moved, Walker shifted his movement toward his fallen soldier.

Campbell was undoubtedly dead, the hole in his chest wide enough to see the ground through. A shocked expression painted his face, and Walker looked away, unable to look into the eyes of the man that had been alive moments before. He held a hand to his mouth as bile rose up in his throat, the stench of the burning finding his nose.

In the brief moment of distraction, a changeling burst from the stack of bodies. It was too close to level his rifle at, while also being too close to him for his men to shoot it. Walker fell to the ground as the bug pounced on him, its shining fangs trying to tear at his neck. It snarled like an animal; its blue eyes crazed as it sought his blood. Walker tried to swing a fist at its head, only for the creature to pin the limb. The changeling seemed to smile in victory as it reared back, its horn glowing a sickly shade of green.

Walker looked away and slammed his mouth close as a spray of goo coated his face. Princess Luna kicked aside the corpse as the head rolled away of its own volition. She reached out a hoof to him, a look of concern on her face.

“Are you all right Captain?”

Walker got to his feet, then frantically tried to scrape the goo from his face. He spat over and over, unable to avoid the taste.

“I got some of that nasty shit in my mouth!” he said as he tried to scrub the goo away.

Princess Luna grinned widely. She wiped off her sword on a changeling corpse.

“My apologies Captain, it was the only way to guarantee the kill,” she said, a laugh tinting her voice.

Walker nodded as he collected spittle in his mouth. He hawked a loogie away, the effort not helping at all.

“I’m going to be tasting that for days,” he spat, glancing at the blue pony. “But thanks Princess, I owe you another one now.”

She smiled, but that quickly disappeared as Phillips appeared, dropping beside Campbell as he checked for vitals. A pony medic followed, and the pair carried away the body. Walker watched them go, his face grim. Richardson ran up.

“Was there anyone else besides Campbell?” Walker asked, spitting on the changelings again.

“No sir," Richardson replied. "Cook says he saw one of the pony medics get nabbed though. He was right next to the wall when they came in.”

Princess Luna frowned deeply. She turned to Walker.

“Captain, I am afraid I must ask for your forgiveness and your assistance. It appears you will be needed this night. Captain Armor shall assist you in the defense of this position.”

Walker shouldered his rifle, flinching as he noticed for the first time the blood leaking from his burnt sleeve. He had been hit. He ignored it.

“And just where are you going Princess?”

The pony began walking toward the empty black outside the gate.

“Hunting.”