War of the Worlds; 2nd Wave

by Fireheart 1945

Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9

Chapter 1

Crank, crank, crank!

Spike continued to tighten the bolt underneath his mech, which was currently in its crouching mode to allow for maintenance. The sound of the wrench became almost melodic.

He grunted as he found he needed to pull harder than usual on this particular bolt. A few more seconds of elbow grease forced the bolt where he wanted. He rubbed his forehead as he continued working... and remembering.

Ten years ago, the unexpected and unthinkable happened.

Equestria, and the world at large, had been invaded.

Aliens from Equus' sister planet, Amari, had invaded.

The first cylinder had crashed down between the Smokey Mountains and White Tail Woods, to the west of Ponyville. It had first been thought to have been a comet, but pegasus Guards who had been on patrol that night had seen it, and had reported the whole thing to their superiors, including the location of the crash site.

By morning, a company of Royal Guards, about a hundred strong, had taken up positions around the crash site. Aerial reconnaissance by pegasi had revealed that this was no meteorite or comet of any sort; it was clearly built by intelligent beings. Local villagers, despite warnings not to, came up to observe this curious sight.

The fighting wouldn't start for another two days, but the killing began right there. It began when the top of the cylinder unscrewed and fell to the ground. A large, boxy object on a sort of spar had emerged. Within seconds, it had begun to unleash a beam of energy with horrifying accuracy at the pegasi, military and civilian, who flew above the thing, slaying most of them within fifteen seconds. Only those who fled immediately, just after the lid unscrewed, or who landed, survived.

The commander at the scene had called for backup immediately. Local garrisons quickly came, bolstering their numbers up to about three hundred and fifty. Along with them came four large but obsolescent cannons, in addition to six ballistae. The commander had also, wisely, backed up somewhat from the crater, in the hopes that his command would not be immediately incinerated should the things emerge.

A loud hammering ensued from the crater. It went on, and on, and on. Given that any pegasi who tried to reconnoiter was roasted in mid-flight, no one could be sure what was going on.

A couple of bold pegasi, who had landed behind trees near the crash site - not that there were many of them, given how many had been blown or burnt down when the cylinder had crashed - caught the first glimpse of the Amari. Their overly large heads were vaguely equine, with a muzzle of sorts and two eyes, but there all similarities with ponies ended. Beneath the large heads was a web of tentacles, with at least twelve on each specimen.

Those two pegasi were fortunate indeed; shortly after the cylinder landed, a sort of box on a metal stick had emerged from it and roasted everypony else nearby.

This sighting was not given due attention at the time, because, shortly afterwards, it happened.

Spike continued tightening another bolt, again wiping his brow before checking a set of wires.

He had been there with Twilight when War Day occured. Many thought the name was rather silly, and perhaps they were right, but no one who had been there and survived that day would have called it anything less.

A large, round bulk, shaped like a ship's boiler, aloft on what seemed to be three tentacle-like legs, had emerged, quickly followed by three more.

All of them had held the same kind of box that the cylinder had used to roast the pegasi.

The slaughter had begun immediately. The heat rays lashed out, initially focused on those closest to the crater, regardless of what danger they might have posed. The commander, who had been at the front, was one of the first casualties.

The civilians had fled as fast as their legs and wings could carry them. Some of the Guards fled as well, but the majority stayed to fight it out, earth ponies charging with spears and swords and unicorns unleashing the most destructive spells they knew, with Twilight aiding in the attack.

They achieved little. Most of the spear-wielding soldiers were slaughtered, and those who got close enough to use their weapons found them dented, bent, or breaking upon being slammed into the machines; even the tentacles were strong enough to repulse the sharpest sword. And although the unicorns had managed to rattle the first machine and put dents into it, the others came to its aid within seconds, frying the unicorns alive before grabbing the earth ponies and pegasi, crushing them or bashing them against trees. They may have been hunks of metal, but they knew exactly what they were doing. It would be found out later that the metal the Amari used was highly resistant to magic, as were the Amari themselves.

The artillery had managed to fire. The ballistae accomplished nothing; their bolts only bounced off the fighting machines, except for one missile that got caught in one of the several "armpits" of the tentacles of one of the machines. None got off more than two shots; most were fried before they could shoot more than once, with one slow crew dying before being able to fire at all.

The cannons were another story. Perhaps by sheer fortune, one shot had slammed with the first machine's cockpit, killing the Amari controlling it and sending it crashing to the ground. Twilight, fueled by fear and rage, had simultaneously unleashed a bolt that somehow overwhelmed the machine's magic resistance, blowing a hole clean through it and sending it to the ground.

That was the sole success of the encounter. The aliens had responded by focusing their wrath on the cannons, roasting their crews and melting the guns so that their barrels drooped, as if in disgrace. Twilight had tried to shield the surviving soldiers and civilians as they withdrew, and had to teleport them, herself and Spike when the Amari began to overwhelm her shield. Sadly, she had not gotten all of the survivors, and none she had left would ever be found alive again. It had been over in a matter of minutes. The Amari, despite losing one of their number along with his machine, were utterly victorious, assuming one could even call the encounter a battle.

The Battle of White Tail Woods was only the beginning... and only one of the cylinders that had landed. Others had fallen even before the fighting started, with landings in southern Equestria, near Klugetown, and near the former Changeling spire in the Badlands. Others landed in dragon territory and near Griffonstone, with yet another landing in Yakyakistan. Most, though, had fallen in southern areas; it was hypothesized, then and now, that this was due to those areas being closest to the average climate and biome of Amari. Nor was Equestria the only one to suffer the same kind of rude awakening as was suffered in White Tail Woods; those Yaks who tried to destroy the invaders were annihilated down to almost the last of their number, with griffon forces suffering a similar disaster. Not even the dragons, who could bathe in lava as if it were water, could withstand the heat rays of the Amari, though they did have a higher survival rate. That last wasn't saying too much, however; four out of every five dragons hit by a heat ray perished then and there, with those who did survive mostly suffering terrible injuries.

To be sure, a couple of battles were won by Equus' native forces; a griffon vessel, Donnerkind, had managed to destroy two of the "Boilers," as the fighting machines were nicknamed, at Manehatten before being destroyed itself, with coastal artillery killing a third. And a unit of Guards defending Ponyville managed to kill a fighting machine when it began to cross the river there. The defenders were killed virtually to the last stallion and the town was essentially destroyed, but the aliens had, for whatever reason, chosen to withdraw afterwards. Similar successes had happened elsewhere, with a horde of dragons managing to melt one of the alien machines before being killed off themselves, and the yaks had toppled one machine in a mass charge, with the alien that emerged from its damaged machine being trampled to death.

Sadly, the heat ray wasn't the only weapon the enemy had.

After the first few days of the War, when these losses were occurring, the Amari began using cannons that fired canisters of black gas; this "Smoke" doomed anyone who breathed any of it; within seconds, artillery and unicorns would be down, writhing and choking on the ground, their guns and other weapons abandoned. The Smoke outranged virtually any ranged attack Equestria could make that was capable of damaging or destroying the fighting machines, which all but doomed a second defense of Ponyville and the defense of Canterlot.

The aliens' use of the Smoke on all fronts had caused mass panics in surviving cities, towns, and villages. Their inhabitants, sometimes only having heard rumors of aliens nearby, had bolted, often with nothing but their skins on their bodies. They would flee in a near-blind panic; ponies and others being trampled to death by their own people were not uncommon. Millions streamed out of cities; this was no orderly flight, but a stampede, a worldwide insanity that saw untold numbers running, without a goal or destination, eyes filled with fear, and instinct rather than morals being the guide of those caught up in the panic.

Discord had almost been killed when the aliens marched on Ponyville again. His magic had been almost useless against the machines themselves, which resisted even the chaotic kind of magic he brought to bear, and, as it turned out, even the Smoke was almost invulnerable to his powers. The best he was able to do was trip them up or block their path using something else, but the aliens were relentless. He had been badly injured, and only the intervention of Fluttershy and Spike himself had seen to the draconequus' survival.

The Smoke had smothered the defense of Canterlot; barely a shot could be fired before the hateful canisters landed and slaughtered the gun crews. The palace and just about all of the city was burned or melted. The only good thing that could be said was that most of the citizens, including the Princesses, had evacuated, so there were few left for the Amari to kill once their near-effortless victory was achieved.

By this point, it seemed as if nothing could halt the Amari; the heat ray and the Smoke were too much for nearly any defense. And, in what would prove to be the final days of the War, the aliens used fast, light flying machines to devastate defending armies, either by firing their four light heat rays, or, more often, by unleashing clouds of Smoke at low altitudes to smother their opponents. All seemed lost. Huddled in a small, abandoned village north of Canterlot, Spike, Twilight and their friends considered the possibility... no, the almost-certainty... of the end of the world.

Then, Providence intervened.

For, one by one, in the order in which they had landed, the Amari became sick with diseases native to Equus. Either their homeworld had no bacteria, or their scientists had destroyed them long ago, but the Amari had no resistance to the diseases of this world. All eventually died, their fighting machines stationary and silent at last, their flying machines crashed or grounded, their weapons still. Where all of the world's efforts had failed, the smallest forms of life that the Creator in His wisdom had formed succeeded. Twenty days after the first landings, all of the aliens had perished.

The world's nations could only sigh in relief... and begin to tally up the damage and loss. Millions were dead, either as a result of the Amari weapons or from the mass flight and starvation that had followed.

Spike pushed with his feet, moving the roller he was on out from under the mech to grab another wrench, one for five-eighths, before rolling back under it.

In the ten years after the war, Equestria and much of the world had dragged itself out from under the ruins of society, rebuilding as much as they could. Naturally, having just weathered an alien invasion, having been almost helpless before weapons they didn't understand, the greatest fear was of another invasion.

Scientists from around the world had studied the Amari and their devices as the common people worked to rebuild their homes and towns. They found that the Amari fighting machines, and indeed all of their technology, had an almost total lack of magic inside them; that explained why physical projectiles had been the only effective means of resistance. The Amari themselves lacked magic entirely, with the only exceptions being those who had fed much during the invasion.

That was another horrifying point about the invaders; some natives had been captured and survived their ordeal, and those able to do so through their trauma told of the aliens drinking the blood of those they captured, and leaving the blood-drained corpses to drop, lifeless, to the ground when they were done. Ironically, it was also partly through this process that they had died off; the bacteria in the blood infected the Amari.

The question of being able to copy Amari heat rays and technology - though pointedly not the Smoke - was answered. Some of it could be copied, but only in an inferior capacity to the originals, due to the general lack of industrialization and the haphazard nature of technology on Equus. The amount of electrical circuitry and the level of preciseness in Amari engineering simply could not be imitated on a scale to equal the original fighting machines and their weapons. Given the lack of electricity on the planet in general, only those scientists who were just beginning to experiment with electricity had any idea what all the circuits did, and even then they often had to guess.

Heat rays, within seven years, were successfully copied. Some designs tried to power the things with magic, but, as with most Amari tech, magic did virtually nothing. Native designs that were designed to use magic rather than electricity were powerful, but the point was made in testing these "Rainbow Rays" upon captured and intact fighting machines once more that magic did barely anything. The copied heat rays of course did damage, though less than hoped for. As for flying machines... there, the Amari badly outclassed anything Equus could do. Native flying machines had to be designed, tested, and built, with any Amari tech being added only after the design was complete. That had led to several failures; predesigning a machine to hold a certain technology after it's construction proved to be a misguided effort.

Of course, heat rays had to be mobile in order to counter any future invasion; the mobility of the "Boilers" was not lost on any competent military members. Eight years after the invasion, the first legged machines were built. After another year of testing, rebuilding, and redesigning, the Mech Mk. I, the kind of machine Spike was currently working on, was released. It housed a single pilot and had a single native light heat ray, along with a couple machine guns on each side for additional firepower. It was designed for speed rather than durability, with the result that it would definitely not hold up to a direct hit, but it was fast, and could maneuver quickly, and it could be quickly produced, at least quickly from a viewpoint of a native of Equus. The idea was to deploy many of them at once against a landing zone, spread out, and try to swamp the invaders with sheer numbers. Death was expected, much of it, but if you had, say, fifty Mk. Is against four Boilers, the latter were going to go down.

Of course other designs were in the works; the Mk. 2 some were talking about was much bigger, with heavy heat rays (according to rumor, some of the heat rays used by the invaders would be incorporated into the design) and thick steel armor, in addition to numerous magazine-fed cannons and a number of machine guns. There was some talk over whether it would be a true mech; some rumors said it would be essentially giant tank, with caterpillars to match. Furthermore, tanks were no longer just a science fiction invention; caterpillar-tracked armored units with conventional cannons were being built, powered by steam and heavily plated. These were just coming off the works, though; Spike heard that only 12 had been built over the past week, and these, as with all the machines already constructed, were undergoing teething troubles. The jump in technology had been an intense one, as medieval ideas of armies and artillery had to be scrapped and factories replaced individual workshops. That last had put a severe strain upon small businesses, but it had to be done if Equus was to survive another invasion. A Mk. 3 was supposedly on the drawing board, though this was mere rumor.

It was due to teething issues that Spike was currently fixing his light mech in the first place. The mechs did work, but they had an annoying habit of breaking down if maintenance was not constantly done.

From Princess' assistant to grease monkey, he thought wryly. Who'da thought that ten years ago?

When the leaders of Equus had gotten together after the attacks, they had all agreed that they needed to unite against another possible invasion. Out of it came M.A.R.S.; the Mechanized Armored Resistance Squadron, also known as the Mech Corps. Spike had been one of the first to sign up for it, despite Twilight's protests. Those protests were a bit muffled in Spike's mind, and in his opinion, for good reason; few of his friends had survived the second onslaught against Ponyville without some kind of injury.

Twilight had lost her left foreleg to a near miss by a heat ray; she now had a prosthetic, with built-in Amari technology. It was... eccentric, as it had a habit of not working right sometimes, though thankfully none of its malfunctions had proven fatal or injurious. Rainbow Dash had lost her wings, and likewise had to be given prosthetic ones. They were made mostly of native tech, as opposed to Twilight's mechanical leg; constructed of light metal, they allowed her to still fly, though she had taken years to get used to them.

Applejack had been flung aside by a fighting machine's tentacle during the fight, and had suffered severe injuries. Of course, like most Apples, she was back on her steel-shod hooves not long afterward, though even today she occasionally complained of side-aches. Pinkie had nearly been broken by the invasion, and while she hadn't been physically injured, she had had emotional meltdowns for about half a decade afterward. She had recovered, partly due to constant and kind-hearted counselling, but she still had bouts of depression.

Rarity had seen her boutique and home burned down with the rest of the town, and her financial difficulties had forced her to sell her shop in Manehatten to rebuild the one in Ponyville. It had been painful to see Rarity and her little sister crying for their lost home and friends; that had never fully stopped, and the two sisters would still occasionally cry their eyes out at night, binging on ice cream and films. Fluttershy had been emotionally traumatized by the invasion as well. Surprisingly, she had recovered much faster than poor Pinkie and had volunteered to be a medic in M.A.R.S., even though her friends, fearful of the effects of seeing more blood and death would have on her, had tried to talk her out of it.

It was Twilight's injury, which at the time of M.A.R.S.'s foundation had not had its prosthetic, that had convinced Spike over the advice of his friends, to join the defense initiative. He never wanted to see his bigger, adoptive sister ever suffer again, and this was the best way to ensure that Ponyville, Equestria, and Equus would not fall again.

In the ten years since, he'd grown; not into the muscular buff hero he'd imagined when rescuing Rarity from diamond dogs all those years ago, but tall and strong enough, with wings strong enough to carry him. He almost as tall as Celestia now.

"Hey, Spike, you done yet?" called a female voice.

"Not quite, Smolder," he replied, still tightening the same bolt. "This thing likes to break down when I so much as look at it funny."

"Then don't look at it funny."

"Ha ha." He rolled out from underneath and stood up. "What's up?"

"Commander's called a meeting in five. We're all wanted as members of the platoon."

"Right, lead the way."

Chapter 2

Spike sat in the middle of the room; nineteen other soldiers, all from the various races of Equus, sat with him.

"What's going on?" someone asked.

"We're about to get down to that," a dark blue dragon said, wearing an officer's clothing. When Ember had sent dragon volunteers, few had thought that dragons could be disciplined to military standards, but some few had actually managed to accept it and even rise within the ranks. This guy was just a lieutenant, but the way was open for promotion.

The lights in the room dimmed; the glow of a unicorn's horn lit the room.

"First, I would like to congratulate you all on your success," a white unicorn Guard stallion said, a patch where his right eye should have been and another on his sleeve that let everyone know he was a colonel. "It's been ten years since this project started, and M.A.R.S. has come a great way in that time."

He aimed his horn at a projector and let loose a short burst of magic. The projector started; a picture of space, probably from a telescope, appeared onscreen.

"What I'm about to tell you is top secret for the time being, and while this information may be released to the public later, for now I expect you all to keep your mouths shut about it, even to each other. I won't sugarcoat it, what I'm about to tell you all is bad news. We've been monitoring the position of the planet Amari in our sky. Sadly, we don't have any vehicles in orbit, though hopefully with the continuation and success of M.A.R.S., that will change. Professor."

Sunburst the unicorn stepped forward. Everyone knew him; aside from being the magical genius of the Crystal Empire, he was largely responsible, along with Twilight, Starlight Glimmer, and even Trixie of all ponies, for the great strides in technology that had occurred over the last decade. "Hello. As Colonel Javelin said, the news is... unpleasant. Amari is approaching the point in the planetary cycle where it is closest to Equus... the same position it was in eleven years ago, when astronomers first monitored gas explosions on Amari. Six months later, as we all know, the War happened."

A wave of panicked whispers filled the room.

"Quiet," the colonel said, and silence fell within two seconds. "That's better. Now, we believe that the Amari may be planning a second invasion; that's what M.A.R.S. was made for. Why they invaded back then, and why they'd invade again, is a mystery."

"It's possible that their planet may be suffering from an ecological collapse," Sunburst put in. "Or perhaps they're running out of resources on their own world. Either way, we surmise that Amari planned, then and now, not to simply colonize Equus, but to subdue it and make it their new homeworld. There are a number of reasons we believe this. First, the initial invasion strikes myself and many military officers as having been a pioneer mission; the invaders who died on our world were soldier-scouts, not colonists. Once the pioneers gained a foothold, which they were sadly well on the way to doing by the time they arrived, only then would colonists come. They didn't come in overwhelming numbers - in their minds, at least - in the Invasion; there were never more than perhaps a hundred Amari on the world at once, and, except for structures to house prisoners for feeding, they constructed little."

"You're saying we were fighting scouts the whole time!?!" an earth pony mare in front cried out. "What would an army look like!?"

"Calm down," Javelin ordered sternly. "Yes, the officer corps and world leadership believe this was so. I do not know what an army of Amari would look like, besides the fighting machines and handlers they brought."

"The technology used in the invasion seemed rather rudimentary as well," Sunburst continued. "Rudimentary in that, in our research on Amari weapons, we have come to the conclusion that the invaders could have brought much more, and perhaps worse. They wanted to conquer our planet for themselves, not render it uninhabitable for those who would have come afterward. In any case, our best telescopes are even now trained upon Amari."

A map of Amari came up; it wasn't very detailed, as the best, longest range telescopes weren't able to do much more than provide a sampling of the planet, but it was more than Spike had ever seen of Amari outside of art.

"The explosions are believed to have originated upon this mountain," Sunburst said, levitating a yardstick and pointing to part of the planet. "We believe that the gun, or guns, that they fired their cylinders out of previously had been positioned upon a very high mountain, one that makes even Mount Everhoof look like a midget. If it were high enough, and we believe it is, it could stick out very high into their atmosphere; by the time the Amari projectiles reached the top, they were likely only a short distance from orbit, which they would have reached very quickly. The mathematical calculations of hitting a moving planet in space is astronomical; even though our world is moving very slowly compared to other objects in space, the distance is extremely great; even at it's closest we don't believe that Amari has ever been closer than forty million miles from our own world, so their aim had to be astronomically precise."

Spike raised a claw.

"Yes?" Javelin said, pointing a shod hoof at him.

"Where do we think they'll land this time?"

"A good question, Spike," Sunburst answered. "Sadly, the highest level military planners are unwilling to go public with their plans. Unfortunate, as I would love to give you a good guess and the Amari showed no sign of understanding us when they came.

"We do believe that they will try and hit world cities and capitals, same as they did previously," Sunburst continued. "All evidence points to their desire to break our spirit, to make us accept our place in the new world order as their livestock, and the extermination of anyone who doesn't get the idea. They had no regrets in killing us then, given they made no attempt to respect us at all; no burials for those they drained of blood, no monuments of any kind, aside from the destruction the waged, and no preservation of native structures, including grave sites. They saw us only as intelligent food to be bred and eaten as they saw fit. Let that sink in, so that you'll remember your loved ones should the Amari invade us again."

A hippogriff raised her claw.

"Yes?"

"Do we know how they communicate? Do we know if they even realize they were defeated the first time around?"

"We have a confirmed source of long distance communication, via highly advanced radio. The other is... theoretical, though it would explain a lot." Sunburst was quiet for a moment. "Understand, this is purely a theory among scientists, and even we are highly divided. But the majority, myself included, believe the Amari could communicate telepathically. All they needed for short distance communication was for one Amari to send a thought to another. It would explain why they acted in the kind of unison they did."

Spike remembered the first fighting at Ponyville. The alien machines had all been lined up and were moving forward like a wall of death. Then, when one was killed by artillery, they all almost instantly fired their heat rays at the exact same place, barbequing the artilleryponies alive. When they withdrew, their movements were too... alien. Too organized if they were taking time to verbally talk to one another. The thought of mental communication made him shiver. No wonder the aliens all seemed to target world capitals at the same time, despite the order of their landings; they could coordinate their campaigns near-instantaneously.

Before he reached the logical question, the same hippogriff asked it for him; "Could they read our minds?"

"A very good question," Sunburst answered. "We believe the answer is no; we did surprise them here and there, which would have been impossible if they could detect native brains and translate their thoughts. We believe they could only communicate telepathically with each other. As for talking to others... they had heat rays for that."

"So they know that they were defeated."

"Know their pioneers died, you mean? Yes, though I wouldn't have phrased it as them being defeated, given we were on the brink of defeat ourselves."

"Of course, one might think that all of the enemy invasion force dying by disease is a win by default, professor," Javelin put in.

"Perhaps. But we know they had radio communication. They would have had time to tell of their defeat to their own people back on Amari before they died, and to tell them why. We can only expect they'll be better prepared this time. They'll try, and probably succeed, at inoculation or at otherwise blocking disease as a factor; we can't expect them to just drop dead this time."

"W-won't that mean they'll have... bigger guns this time?" the mare from earlier asked in a nervous voice."

"We can only assume they will. We don't know what those 'bigger guns' will look like, but we believe that their fighting machines will be improved designs compared to the previous attack."

"What about their immunity to magic, professor?" Javelin asked pointedly.

"We've been studying that. Amari tech is almost impervious to magic, and we've come up with some answers as to why. First, all Amari fighting machines were designed to resist heat. We've found pods within their landing cylinders, presumably where they hibernated during the voyage to our world, all protected against heat. They obviously wanted to survive re-entry. But it goes further than that. We believe that the planet Amari... has no magic. I don't mean that they lack the ability to cast magic; I mean that their world has no magic whatsoever. No magic sites, no magical energy field, no internal magic in their bodies, nothing. The materials we found that were otherwise identical to our own, such as steel and copper, had no magic in them at all, which explains why we couldn't levitate them; they had to be physically carried."

There was a poignant pause. A world without magic of any kind, anywhere? It seemed too... alien. That was the only word.

"Then how did Twilight get her kill at the first landing ground?" he asked out loud.

"That's a good question, Spike. From what she was able to remember, her spell didn't just pack heat, but also, for lack of a better term, physical force. As a result, the spell was able, unlike other spells used that mostly tried to stun or burn the machines, it penetrated. But even then, it was only due to the amount of force she put into the spell; only another alicorn would be able to match it."

"Anything else you'd like to tell us, professor?"

"Only to be on your guard, all of you; the Amari are, well, alien to us, no pun intended, so they may well prove to be unpredictable."

"Right then," Colonel Javelin said. "First platoon, you'll be deploying under Lieutenant Azurite of the Dragon Lands."

The dragon lieutenant stepped forward as the image onscreen changed to that of Ponyville and it's surroundings. "Should enemy launches from Amari be detected, we'll be deploying to the southwest of the town," he noted, using a pointer to show just where. "As Professor Sunburst said before, we believe world capitals and other major cultural sites will be their primary targets, so our intention is to catch the aliens as they move on Canterlot. Ponyville is also located roughly in the center of Equestria, which makes it a great place to stage out of in case the enemy lands elsewhere. The rail network has expanded massively since the War, so wherever the enemy lands, we'll be able to board a train within the hour and be on our way. We'll be joined by the Fifth Armored Brigade and Tenth Aerial Squadron; conventional forces, including Royal Guards, quick-firing artillery, and Rangers, will also be on station. Local command will be under General Falchion of Equestria, with Field Marshal Shining Armor of the Crystal Empire in command of the overall defense of Equestria. It's hoped that the mix of different defense units will maximize our defense against the Amari."

"Why not just combine all our mechs together?" a pegasus stallion asked.

"Because we only have one type of mech currently in production," Colonel Javelin answered. "If the Mk. 2s were out of prototype stage, we might do just that. But due to problems in testing, it'll take months for them to start being produced, and even then they'll be too big to just mass produce them. That's why we're cooperating with the Tanks and the Flying Corps. Between the steam-powered land ironclads now just being produced, aeroplanes, and re-equipped conventional forces, we hope to be a match for the aliens this time around. But I don't want anyone in this room thinking this'll be easy; it won't be. Remember, the Amari have had ten of our years to prepare another invasion; they'll most likely have better tech than they did previously. Hopefully, if their planet suffered the kind of collapse Professor Sunburst was talking about, they'll either be too dead or too busy trying to adapt to changing conditions in their own backyard to invade. But that's the best case scenario for us, and we can't rely on that happening. Consider yourselves on alert condition yellow unless codeword 'Sunflower' is received. Dismissed."

With that, the gathered soldiers began to disperse.

"Well, Spike, what you think?" Smolder asked as they walked toward the mess hall.

"It sounds bad. I wish we'd been told all this sooner. For all we know, some poor kid in the observatory is coming over right now to tell us he saw gas spurts from Amari. Seriously, we had to wait until now?"

"The generals had a reason for doing that," a gray earth pony stallion named Nickel said. "There needed to be a real threat of invasion for this stuff to come out. Furthermore, even if the Amari did launch right now, we'd still have about six months to prepare; we've got plenty of warning."

"Easy for you to say," Spike replied, still upset. "You grew up in Baltimare, one of the few cities to be untouched by the Invasion, except for the Great Stampede. The war barely affected you."

"Just because my hometown was spared doesn't mean I know nothing of the invasion," Nickel snorted, his nailed-on horseshoes clacking even harder on the floor as he stomped his hooves. "I've studied everything about the Amari and their tech."

"Which means nothing when compared to personal experience," Smolder snapped. "I barely lived through the War. I had to watch dragons, the mightiest race on the planet, be killed like it was nothing. My brother Garble was one of the few to survive a heat ray to the chest. As it was, only pony medicine and zebra potions kept him alive."

"I'm not making light of experience, dreadful or otherwise. But our leaders aren't all idiots, and Lieutenant Azurite strikes me as competent."

"Brilliant would be better," Spike mumbled.

"Few of the soldiers and warriors who fought the Amari survived to tell of it. We should be thankful that Colonel Javelin survived the defense of Canterlot and has lived long enough to teach a new generation of soldiers to resist the Amari."

"Hey, I'm glad he's still here," Spike said, waving his right claw in a sort of slow-down motion. "But too many aren't. We won't survive hitting them head-long; I hope the yaks that are part of this platoon realize that."

"We must indeed fight using our intellect," Nickel agreed. "If we develop our weapons further, we may stand a chance of winning."

"If only we could just build more," Smolder complained. "How many Mk. 1s do we even have?"

"Maybe three hundred overall," Nickel admitted. "Most still going through teething troubles to some extent. Production of more mechs... is still slow, though it's becoming more efficient and the new Mk. 1.2s have fewer problems."

"Splendid," Spike snarked. "Now we only have to half-worry about our mechs falling down when they walk."

"It's new tech, Spike. We've advanced hundreds of years' worth of technological progress in just ten years; of course we have problems... and we're always working to iron out the difficulties."

"Can't they build mechs, tanks, and whatever else we've got without us needing to fix the junk they send?"

"We need it as fast as possible, Spike. Sometimes stuff goes wrong, but we need to keep making it anyway because it's what we have. It's not like the developers are sitting in their rooms trying to make their designs an annoyance to us."

"Coulda fooled me," Smolder said, chuckling darkly. "I wonder how one of the idiots who design our stuff would react if I went up and threatened to barbeque his hindquarters until he got all the wrinkles out."

"Please tell me you're joking. They'd court marshal and dishonorably discharge you for sure. Then when the second invasion began, you'd be stick behind the oh-so-thin gun shield of a quick-firer."

Smolder groaned, but said nothing else as they reached the mess.

Shining Armor stood in the tent next to the Royal Observatory in Canterlot. "I'm pleased with the progress you've made, gentlecolts," he was saying to the developers before him. "I must congratulate you on your success."

"Thank you, Field Marshal," one of the scientists, a gray unicorn stallion, replied.

"I must express my disappointment, however," he went on, "for the fact that many of your devices have major flaws. The complaints of my troops make it clear that your designs, while functional, are plagued with problems that force them to clean up the mess you failed to deal with when initially designing your vehicles."

"You can't blame us for that, sir!" a blue pegasus stallion said angrily. "We've done our best to make you functional weapons to fight the Amari. And we've come so far within the past ten years, it's like technology itself has been on steroids; we keep discovering more and more, and the more we discover, the more we can fix these problems."

"I understand that. But if you'd taken the time to design something without problems in the first place, then we wouldn't have to fix the things ourselves."

"Your troops complain too much," a green earth pony replied. "They should be glad they have weapons that work at all, instead of being lazy and blaming us for their inability to read manuals."

Shining did not let his anger show on his face. "They are not lazy by any means. They've been training hard, and will continue to do so. But when their mechs topple over because one leg suddenly stopped working, or when something jams and the entire machine has to stop so the pilot can find and fix the issue, or when a steam tank stops moving because its engine or boiler was too small for it, then you can't just blame my soldiers. The fault lies in the design. Like I said, I'm happy you've designed weapons that work... after a fashion. But they need to work all the time, instead of breaking down at every excuse to do so."

Th earth pony stallion was about to complain again, but was silenced by his gray colleague. "We will do better in the future, sir. The Mk. 1.2s have been working much better than previously, and we intend to improve even further."

"Good. Especially since the Mk. 1s are already light machines and are expected to take heavy losses in any event. We simply aren't up to the standards of the Amari, and will have to use tech still inferior to their own."

Just then, a light-brown earth pony entered the tent. "Sir."

"You are dismissed, gentlecolts." After the scientists had left, he turned to the messenger. "Yes?"

"The astronomers, sir. They just witnessed a green flash from Amari about two minutes ago."

Shining again did not allow his emotions to surface. "Are they sure?"

"Yes, sir. In fact, according to them, it was much bigger than was observed eleven years ago."

"By how much?"

"They didn't tell me. They just sent me to report this to you."

"...Alright. Dismissed." The soldier saluted, and left.

Shining was busy for about another hour or so for more information. During that time he was not idle; he was busy signing paper work and writing down new suggestions to the R&D teams (including suggestions that they fix design flaws in machines that had already entered service).

Again, the messenger came. "Sir."

"What now?"

"Another green spurt, sir."

"Already? Last time, they were a day or so apart."

"Yes, sir. About an hour and five minutes on the dot."

"Same size as last time?"

"Yes sir. The observers believe the spurts are at least twice as big as last time, though they think that the size of the blasts maybe not be fully indicative of the size of the invasion force. Apparently the Amari built more of their planetary guns since the previous invasion."

They must really want this world. "Thank you. That'll be all."

Again a salute, and the soldier left.

At least two cylinders from each blast, and possibly more than that. And they're launching much more quickly than last time.

An hour and five minutes later, the soldier came again and reported essentially the same thing. Again, Shining politely dismissed him.

How many are they sending? How much of it will our troops be able to bear?

Each nation had its own military by now, of course. But the majority of those troops were "conventionals" or "regulars," i.e. foot/hoof soldiers and artillery. They were armed with quick-firing breach-loading cannons and heavy rifles, the latter ostensibly being powerful enough to punch through minor armor and at least do some damage to an Amari fighting machine, if not wreck it. Enough soldiers firing at a fighting machine could potentially add up minor damage until the machine was taken out by heavier equipment. Machine guns had also been produced, with the same idea. But the regulars would be highly vulnerable; it was expected that at least half a unit would die even in a successful defensive engagement. While their artillery was much better than the muzzle-loaded monsters of the previous War, they would be hideously vulnerable to being fried by heat rays if the Amari weren't taken out over a mile away. The only thing going for the artillery was that it could fire up and over obstacles, but direct fire and direct hits were what was needed, not lots of near-misses. The latter might have proved useful against other native militaries, but not against the Amari.

What could be done for the regulars had been done; some dragons had allowed scientists from all over Equus to study their scales, in the hopes of producing some sort of light armor that could survive at least some damage. Gas masks, with oxygen tanks able to provide breathable air for about an hour, had been provided; hopefully, by the time the oxygen ran out, a battle would be over and the troops able to get out of any Smoke clouds. Artillery would be camouflaged on routes the Amari were expected to travel once the invasion began, and extra oxygen tanks would be on store for their crews in case of prolonged engagements.

But it was clear that regulars wouldn't be enough. The Amari had been highly mobile during the War, and as such the world would need mobile weaponry of its own. Hence the Tank, M.A.R.S., and Flight initiatives. The latter had some success, though no one expected a native aeroplane to withstand a direct hit from a heat ray. The former were expected to be able to do that, and hit back with heavy ordinance of their own.

Both the tanks and mechs had their issues. The Mk. 1s of each program were lighter than any general would have wanted, given that they needed heavy armor and heavy weapons alike. The Mk. 1s would have to serve as scouts or be deployed to overwhelm and outflank the enemy via numbers.

Naval initiatives had also seen some success. The sacrifice of the Donnerkind was a memorable episode, and one of immense pride for the griffons, and each nation had tried to build a naval fleet that had both heavy armor and heavy guns that could blow fighting machines to bits. However, most military commanders accepted the likelihood that the Amari would primarily stick to land fighting and avoid coastlines, given how many cities and industries were constructed inland, as were so many capitals; while some naval engagements were expected, most of the fighting would be done on land, hence the focus on aerial and land units.

Mechs... well, while they were mobile, the walking machines had many issues. One was balance; a mech had to balance just right at all times or it could come tumbling down during its march. Mk 1s were designed to be fast, and could move over terrain that tanks would have a hard time in, but that mobility was about it; their light heat rays and machine guns couldn't match a fighting machine one on one in an even fight. That was why they would be deployed en masse, to make the fight as uneven as possible, and to Equus' advantage.

I just hope we've built, and will build, enough to deal with the Amari once they arrive.

Chapter 3

Spike finally finished maintenance on his mech. He stood up and stepped back, inspecting his handiwork. His Mk. 1 would run well enough for awhile... until it needed maintenance again, in about a day and a half.

"Spike!"

He turned; he'd never forget that voice. "Twilight!"

Spike ran up to the alicorn, and they hugged, a moment of peace in a profession of war... and of trying to make sure your own machine wouldn't take you out before the enemy did.

"It's great to see you again," the lavender mare said happily as they pulled back from the embrace.

"Likewise. Hope your work hasn't got you down."

"Not really; it's fun to discover things. The only downside is that its being used for war, but if it's necessary to protect Equestria - and the world - then it's a no-brainer."

"You can't be feeling sorry for the Amari, can you?"

"Well, they obviously have no magic, nor know the power of friendship-"

"Doesn't matter. They killed us and used the survivors for food. Let them die is what I say."

"Spike, do you know just how cruel that sounds?"

"Yeah. I also know it's because of them so many of our Ponyville friends were murdered, and they're the reason you have that metal leg."

Twilight raised said leg, inspecting it briefly. "I miss my old foreleg," she admitted. "And I cry every night over those we've lost. You're not the only one, Spike."

Spike let out a sigh. "I know. I just... can't forgive them. I just can't. And I swear that this time, they won't get the chance to butcher our town."

"I know you won't let that happen," Twilight said, a little more cheerful.

"So how is that doohickey working anyway?" Spike asked, trying to change the subject.

"Same old, same old. It works pretty well most of the time-"

Without warning, the leg extended about twenty feet and knocked over a stack of barrels filled with oil and grease. A scream from a startled pony could be heard.

Twilight's face went red as she smiled nervously. "Key word, most of the time," she said sheepishly as the leg retracted.

"What's it even useful for?"

"Oh, I've fitted it with a watch and a calculator. Now I don't have to actually drag either of those around! And, as you just saw, it can extend - properly - when care is used. I think the fact that I've connected it to my nervous system in order to function fully as a prosthetic leg."

"Wait, so it's wired up to your brain?"

"Well, yes, it's connected to my brain via my nervous system, so it works as a functioning leg... most of the time."

"Why would you even need an extension for it? You have levitation!"

"If the Amari come again, Spike, magic's not gonna cut it. For all we know, they know of a way to neutralize magic entirely. It'll be useful if I have to get up close and personal, or if I need to use a weapon. Speaking of which-"

"Don't put a gun or a sword in that thing! Not until you stabilize it so it doesn't do crazy stuff!"

"I may have no choice, Spike. I'm a Princess; I have the responsibility to protect my ponies from attack. Would you rather I let Ponyville die again?"

"No! But-"

"I know my prosthetic isn't... well, it's not perfect, and it glitches. But you've complained endlessly in your letters to me about the problems of your own machines!"

"Yeah, because they were made by non-Princess eggheads who don't know what they're doing! At least you're competent."

"So competent my leg doesn't glitch half the time?"

"..."

"Spike, I know that our scientists have disappointed you and the rest of our army. But we've been doing the best we could under the constant threat of the Amari returning at any time. We've had to rush things, as much as I despise the necessity. And we are improving and repairing existing models; soon, your mech won't need maintenance every day."

"That'll be great."

"...You've become so... distant, Spike. So cynical."

"Having your home burned down and seeing your best friends either murdered in cold blood or crippled for life by worthless, sub-pony aliens does that to ya."

Twilight was silent for a moment, sorrow across her face. Then she sighed, her eyes closing as she did so. "Spike, since you joined M.A.R.S.... I've missed my littlest brother."

"And I miss my big sister. But I can't see them burn you and the others again. I just can't. I have to do this and protect you all. Maybe after we kill them all, I can retire and be your assistant again. I'd like nothing better, Twi, trust me, but I can't do it so long as the Amari are coming."

"I... understand. I want to protect my friends and family too. We all do; it's why we're here, and why I have this little doohickey."

As if on cue, the prosthetic began to extend and retract repeatedly, like a slinky toy. Twilight again blushed.

"I'll admit, it needs more work."

"Is Rainbow okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Twilight said, clearly glad to change the subject. "Her wings are working well. She hasn't pulled off another Sonic Rainboom, but she's gotten close. Of course, that means I've spent a lot of time trying to fix her wings," she added, sounding a little put off. "I think she'll do it eventually. And at least every time I have to fix her up, I understand more about flight, and can make her own prosthetics better than they were, not to mention I can pass on what I learn to the Flying Corps."

"What do you think our chances are, Twi?"

Twilight pondered that for several seconds. "We've certainly industrialized as fast and much as is possible for ten years, militarily just as much. I think that we can definitely win, even if it becomes a prolonged struggle... provided the enemy doesn't do something, or have something, that is too unexpected."

"I hope M.A.R.S. is worth it. I've heard rumors they might shut it down due to all the difficulties of production compared to the tanks."

"That won't happen... before war breaks out."

"What do you mean?"

Twilight sighed. "I won't lie, those rumors have some truth to them. Many have concerns about the M.A.R.S. program, and not just due to distrust of other species. Mechs are harder to get right and to maintain than tanks, and so far the Mk. I has been..."

"Disappointing."

"'Lackluster' was the word I was going to use."

"A third leg to the rear might help actually balance the thing properly, and solve a bunch of other problems."

"It would also cut down on the speed. The original idea for M.A.R.S. was a fast, mobile force, and the Mk. I meets that need."

"When it doesn't break down."

"...I won't deny that the designs were rushed. When the improved Mk. Is come out, your unit is up to get them first."

"Good. I hope they don't leak oil or have their legs jam."

"They don't. Though you'll still need to be somewhat careful balance-wise; they can get tipped over if you walked on uneven terrain."

"Great. We need a mech that can go off road, and even the improved version can't be relied on to do that."

"We're working on it, I promise. But as I said, the detractors of the program are worried that we're putting too much into a program that's shown too little promise."

"They better not scrap it. It's the only international force we have, and we need a unit that shows solidarity against the scum from Amari."

"I can only say I'll fight it if that does come up."

Spike sighed.

"Hey, cheer up. The invasion hasn't even reached us. I don't think a dragon should act defeated before his first battle."

That earned a chuckle from the purple dragon. "Okay, I guess you're right. We'll show them; both the Amari and our own people."

"That's the spirit."

"So..." Spike scratched the back of his head. "Amari itself. The planet, I mean."

"Yes?"

"I hear it goes around the sun, except Celestia moves the sun around Equus."

"Yeah?"

"Um, how does that work? Our sun goes around us, but the other planets go around the sun that Celestia controls... how do the planets not collide, or even not get flung outside our solar system?"

"That's... a good question," Twilight said, looking impressed. "You know, I haven't really thought to look that up in ten years of research, though that's mostly because it wasn't relevant to constructing military machines to repel another invasion. I'll have to research that some time."

"Okay..."

"What's going on, soldier?" a calm voice said.

"Oh, Lieutenant Azurite," Spike said, turning quickly and saluting. "I was just talking to my adoptive sister, sir."

"Ah, Princess Twilight," the dragon officer said, nodding politely in her direction before turning back to Spike. "At ease. We're moving out tomorrow."

"Uh, what?" Spike asked, lowering his claw.

"As you already know, the astronomers saw gas spurts from Amari again. That means another invasion is underway. Get your mech ready, and prepare to move out."

"Oh yeah. But why so fast?"

"'Why so fast, sir?'"

"Why so fast, sir?"

"We need to be in position long before the Amari reach us. When the cylinders come down, we want to smash them before they can come out of their tin cans if at all possible. If it means being ready months before the action starts, so be it. I'll be going around and telling the rest of the platoon to get ready. Oh, and make sure you're on your best behavior; we want to look our best before everyone."

"You mean the morons who want to cancel M.A.R.S.?"

"Before everyone, soldier." Azurite saluted - which Spike returned - turned, and left.

Spike again lowered his claw. "Well, the balloon's gone up, I guess."

"I'll be praying and hoping for you, Spike," Twilight said, trying to sound cheerful.

"Thanks, Twi. We'll need it."

Lieutenant Azurite watched from a hillside as his platoon moved out, arms folded. The mechs of his platoon were chugging forward slowly, much slower than they could have, though given the tanks around them that were rumbling along toward the railway depot with them, that wasn't surprising. Tanks were slower than mechs, being bigger and heavier. They were built more to take and give punches rather than move at lightning speed, though plans for lighter, faster vehicles were on the drawing board.

M.A.R.S. had been constructed as an international force, a force that would help to protect all nations in addition to steam-powered and convention units. There were platoons like his all over the world, though most weren't quite as strong. But while M.A.R.S. units were scattered, there were attempts to build up mechs for them around the globe. The need for international unity was great, and having multi-national units defending countries would go a long way toward fulfilling that need.

To think that eleven years ago I brushed off civilization as "namby-pamby nonsense", he thought, mentally shaking his head. As a dragon, gold, gems, and doing whatever one wanted was what mattered. The sole exception was the Dragon Lord, who, with exceptions (such as tests to select who would next be the next Dragon Lord), usually let dragons do their own thing.

That ended when the Amari had come. The sheer destructive power they wielded far outweighed anything dragons could do on their own. If they were going to survive as an independent species capable of resisting the Amari at all, they needed to settle and industrialize. Equestria and other nations had helped, but the Dragon Lands - they didn't have any official name for their country yet, though "Draco" and "Aerouant" had been suggested by many - was still, even now, the weakest industrial power, with many dragons unused to living in cities with tight quarters and laws.

It had been a mess for a while. Previously, dragons usually only gathered when the Dragon Lord commanded it, or in migrations. However, by now some were getting used to it. The coal mines were no problem for dragons, who often lived with smoke and in hot locations, and various gem mines made dragons rich without even having to steal anything. It was not easy, but at least the Dragon Lands were a home and not just one major migration spot.

M.A.R.S. had been successful so far, at least partially, and the tanks, while slow and cumbersome, were well armed and armored.

If only airships would cooperate better. Airships would have theoretically been a boon for combat. However, there was a problem; lighter-than-air gases could not support an armored airship. In fact, tests for armored airships in Saddle Arabia had been a disappointment, with none being able to lift the gas-filled balloons, let alone the carriages and armaments on them. And while an unarmored airship might be able to carry some military equipment, they would go up in flames at the slightest touch of a heat ray. Hydrogen was out, given that it was flammable and explosive, and helium couldn't lift as much as hydrogen. As such, no further projects for armored airships had been made; lighter aeroplanes, carrying rockets, machine guns, or bombs would have to do. Not that they'd be able to withstand a heat ray either, but at least the generals would only risking a single pilot, or in certain cases a crew of two, for each machine rather than dozens or hundreds.

Dragon tank variants had had troubles when they first came out, and had continued to have them. That was true of most of the machines the world was producing, but dragons, with little prior want and even less knowledge of industry before the War, had focused on trying to build giant, monster vehicles that could shoot flames strong enough to melt a fighting machine while having armor thick enough to prevent the same from happening to it. Outside the dragon capital, the one prototype machine had had a catastrophic failure on its first test. It was fortunate the crew had all been dragons; the rather literal meltdown would have killed most other species, and those dragons had been fortunate indeed to escape the molten wreckage when the tank carrying the gas for the gun exploded. A second variant, with outside help, had been a success, though it was much smaller and forewent a flamethrower in exchange for a 75mm gun.

Embarrassing.

He continued to watch; the various vehicles continued to make their way to the train station, where they would be loaded and sent to Ponyville.

He agreed with Spike; the guys who wanted to shut down M.A.R.S. were idiots, at least in his mind. Yes, the mechs weren't perfect, but at least they were faster than tanks, which was what they were built for. Not to mention, they were armed with heat rays, whereas tanks were mostly - though not entirely - armed with more conventional artillery and machine guns. All they needed, really, was more reliability. A lot more. And more of those theoretically improved versions.

Perhaps building them as tripods instead of bipods would have been better. There had been experiments with tripodal mechs. Sadly, the third leg made the vehicles slower than most commanders liked, as the experimental units had an extra leg to account for in order to move forward. Those prototypes had been kept, with plans to make more of them. It was off of them that the Mk. 3 project was based; they'd be smaller than the Mk. 2s would be, but would have two heavier heat rays as opposed to the single, lighter version the Mk. 1s used, in addition to a single cannon mounted on the belly of the machine.

Battling the Amari would not be easy, even with native heat rays. The enemy would have at least the same tech as before; much more likely, their tech would be even better than before. The Amari hadn't travelled millions of miles of space by being stupid. No doubt they knew why their original force died off, and they'd taken precautions against it. What kind of precautions, he could only imagine, along with new weapons. Probably more powerful versions of the heat ray and Smoke.

The war was coming; the Amari launches confirmed it. Hopefully this time, the combined militaries of Equus would give them a sound thrashing. They'd have to. Living as livestock to be drained of blood - which would be the inevitable result of defeat - was too painful to contemplate.

Chapter 4

Spike sighed as he sat down in a passenger coach at the front of the train with the other M.A.R.S. soldiers. Ponies, changelings, hippogriffs, griffons, zebras, minotaurs, dragons, kirins, and many more were onboard. Warriors from all over the world were gathered for the fight.

"Six months until war and here we are, racing to get to some position we need to hold, and then wait."

"Ah, you know how it is in the army," Nickel replied, sitting beside him. "Hurry up and wait."

"Still, going to battle positions before the enemy have even arrived?" Smolder asked from the seat opposite them in the aisle, shaking her head. "We know it'll be about six months before the arrive. A bit of an overreaction, don't you think?"

"Not really. We've been advancing in tech to a ridiculous extent in just ten years; what do you think the Amari have been doing in that time? They'll have been upscaling their own technology; how do we know they won't arrive faster now than they did before the War?"

That led to an uncomfortable silence as everyone who heard that thought about it. One way or another, the Amari were probably going to have better technology when they arrived; better heat rays, better Smoke, bigger and faster fighting machines, and there was the possibility they'd arrive faster than previously. All of that was chilling; despite all their advances, the nations of Equus would still have struggled against the tripods as they had been constructed prior to the War. What chance would they have this time around?

"At least we have gas and germ shells this time around," a hippogriff named Sea Bird said from behind them. "They get hit, and they'll be too busy sneezing to defend themselves, and thats if they live long enough to even do as much."

"That honestly doesn't make me feel any better," Smolder replied, turning to him. "That stuff could just as easily make us sick."

"As long as the Amari die, the sacrifice will be worth it."

"Are you serious, dude?" Spike answered. "Don't you want to live and be able to go home afterwards?"

"I care more that those murderers die. How they die, I don't care. And if I have to die to make sure they become extinct, I will. I hate them so much."

"Join the club, bud. I hate them as much as anypo- anybody. But what's got your mane in a twist? THe Amari didn't land anywhere on Mount Aris."

"They didn't," Sea Bird growled, his body shaking slightly and his voice dripping with hatred, "but my uncle and dad were visiting Ponyville when those pieces of manure attacked it. They were killed by the Smoke after Discord had to make a break for it. My poor mother suffered a heart attack and died when she heard about it, leaving me and my siblings as orphans. Thankfully, my aunt, bless her soul, took us in. But I'll never forgive the Amari for those tragedies... Never. Only when they're all in Hell will I have any consolation."

"Wouldn't living through their second invasion victorious be a better revenge?" Smolder asked, a note of sympathy in her voice.

"If I can manage it, yeah. If I can't... If I can't, I'll drag them down to Hell with me, curse their souls to the eternal fire forever."

"Alright, chill, man," Spike answered. "We all lost people we loved. I'm fighting to stop the Amari from harming anyone else I love ever again. We all have a bone to pick with the Amari, and we're going to have a chance to pick at them in the coming months. You don't need to be fighting us and them all at once."

Sea Bird didn't reply. Instead, he turned and looked out the window, lost in thought.

Smolder leaned over, so Nickel and Spike could hear her lowered voice. "We'll need to watch out for him; quite a few dragons thought that way during the War after losing family; some literally tore through other dragons to get at the Amari. All of them I know of were killed, and often got others killed."

Nickel nodded reluctantly. "A unicorn I knew lost his entire family to the heat ray. He went nuts and attacked them with every magic spell he knew. Didn't do a thing, of course, and he got fried not very long after they did. It's the berserkers you need to be careful of; they don't care how many of their own die, so long as they get any revenge."

Just then, the train gave a jerk, which unsettled all three of them. All of them recovered their seats quickly.

Spike also began looking out the window. The Amari were cruel creatures that killed all they came across... except those horrifically unfortunate enough to be made into their meals. And yet they had machines that had ripped through every military they had come across. They'd have a much harder fight this time, to be sure. But would it be enough to defeat them?

He tried to ignore the black smoke coming from the locomotive passing by the upper part of the window. It reminded him too much about the War and its horrors.

Shining Armor allowed himself a moment in private to let his fears flow. The Amari had been firing one shot after another for the past five days, an hour and five minutes between each firing. Each pod or cylinder would be carrying at least four of the fighting machines that had devastated the world, assuming they hadn't been improved upon from last time. Magically enhanced lens on the Royal Observatory had managed to get the closest look at Amari that anypony -anyone, for that matter - had ever had of that mysterious, and now all-too-foreboding, planet. From what looked to be the highest mountain on the planet, ten simultaneous eruptions would occur each time the Amari fired. There would be hundreds of Amari coming, as opposed to several dozen from the previous invasion.

He had ordered Equestrian - and Crystal - forces to take up defensive positions in and near cities. The Amari hadn't assaulted cities just to kill and burn; they were the best source of "food" for them. It wasn't exactly knowledge the remnants of the world governments had wanted to spread, but it was an open secret that the aliens had feasted on the blood of Equus' many species; yes, they had gone after animals, but they had primarily gone after civilized species.

First, they murdered civilians to make them terrified of them. Then they slaughtered the armies to make a point; accept becoming livestock to be eaten at their leisure or be erased from existence. They would have gone full domestication... Praise be the Creator, they died before ever fully implementing that stage.

Cadence and Flurry had been captured by an Amari fighting machine during the last days of the War when the Amari were faultering. He had used every magic spell in the book to free them, and had been unable to. Thankfully, the Amari inside had died before it could carry them away to one of the hellholes they ordinarily took "prisoners," the fighting machine coming to a halt on the way.

IwOnTlEtThEmIwOnTlEtThEm

He mentally shook himself. For added measure, he levitated a bucket of cold water and dumped it on his own head to further clear his thoughts.

Yes, the Amari would be difficult to defeat, but not impossible. Since the enemy required fresh blood to inject into themselves, they would need to land near sources of nourishment, namely inhabited settlements. His troops would be waiting for their cylinders to land, where upon they would immedately be attacked before they could build their demonic engines of war. If all went well, most cylinders would have no chance to be opened before being destroyed, with the Amari in them. Some might land further away and have some chance to emerge, but the various world armies would by then have destroyed the rest of the cylinders and be on their way. There would be a bloody struggle against the aliens, but they could and would be defeated. Hopefully, by then the aliens still on Amari would realize the futility of sending more of their own to die, and would either find another world to settle on or - preferably - die off. That was the grand strategy the world's militaries had come up with.

That was the best case scenario. But it wasn't the only one. It was possible the Amari would focus on one continent at a time, or perhaps on a very big island. If that was the case, evacuation plans would be made for the sake of the peoples there to flee somewhere else and bring troops,weapons, and logistics in. Such a war would last much longer than the previous scenario, but it would be winnable, especially with a navy full of ships with both quick-firing artillery and flak cannons to stop the aliens from crossing the oceans. There were even plans for ships to use a new weapon called a depth charge in case the Amari made watertight machines and tried walking on the ocean floor, pioneered by the hippogriffs of Mount Aris.

Finally, there were plans for guerilla warfare should conventional tactics fail; every soldier knew about Order 718, the command to go dark and begin asymetrical warfare against the invaders. They all had manuals on how to make and use explosives, on how to hide and use the native landscape to their advantage. It would be a desperate but necessary move, as extinction or reduction to mere food sources were the only alternatives, neither being acceptable.

The new armies and machines would work. They had to, or else a terrible, nightmarish future awaited Equus.

Princess Luna watched the moon rise as her magic moved it into position. The darkness that arose as her sister simultaneously lowered the sun was almost welcome to cover the panic that shrouded the world like a cloud. Like the dreaded Smoke itself.

She sighed. Since news had leaked to the public, Equestria's ponies had gone into full-blown panic mode. Some had fled the settlements they lived in immediately, with nothing but the fur on their backs. Others had crowded into stores to purchase as many canned goods that they could get their hooves on. Still more had moved on to make bunkers in their backyards, many of which would have no defense against the Smoke and could likely be pried open by Amari fighting machines. Others - many, many others - tried to pretend that the planet Amari didn't exist and went about their lives, perhaps with an overdone smile and higher-pitched voice than usual. Finally, there were hundreds of petitions demanding that various cities, towns, and villages be given ample protection by the Equestrian army. One or two had even made thinly-veiled threats to secede if they didn't get their way. As if some village militias armed with outdated weapons could do better to defend themselves than troops armed with the most modern weaponry!

At least the secessionists had backed down after some... persuasion. But the canned food riots had lasted for days. It had taken the Royal Guard, armed with traditional weaponry, to force the crowds to disperse. Hundreds were in jail, thousands on probation, and still more out on bail. The damage to the economy had been severe, as were the losses suffered by individual storeowners and their families. At many had been injured, and sadly six killed, during the riots, and the Amari hadn't even landed yet. Not a great start.

And now the news had come from the Royal Observatory; the Amari invasion force would be enormous compared to the previous attack.

She had thought of using the moon to disrupt or destroy the Amari cylinders before they could land. However, the moon was a gigantic body, even if it was much smaller than Equus, and even if she could intercept some pods, others would get through. Additionally, the irregular movement of the moon in this way would upset global tides and likely flood continents. While the hippogriffs could survive that, Equestria and other countries, with most of their populations groundbound, could not. All in all, using the moon to defend against the invasion would upset the balance of the planet too much.

She had discussed using the sun for a similar purpose, but Celestia had shot that plan down. The sun didn't control tides or anything like that, but it was necessary for plants, and those who ate them, to survive. It might be possible to delay the sun for an hour or so, but it would be impractical for another reason; the Amari cylinders, though large to the eyes of individuals, were tiny in space. It would be difficult to track and destroy them while they were in space, and even if they could, again the Amari were firing dozens of pods towards Equus; some were going to get through regardless. And as the Amari could bud off new offspring (that could mature disturbingly quickly, if reports from surviving captives taken by the aliens in the War were to be believed), they could replace their losses. In the meantime, the ecological damage might be severe.

Luna had toyed with another plan; perhaps she could use an asteroid to help destroy some of the cylinders before they landed. But that would require an asteroid to pass close to Equus, and for it to be located, for her to use it. And it would have to be big enough to survive an impact with a fast-moving object in space, which most were not. While there was confirmed to be an asteroid belt around the Equus solar system, they were nowhere near close enough for Luna to use. Thus this plan was virtually impossible to carry out.

The coming war was fast approaching - quite literally - and there was no way to stop it before it came to Equus.

In the meantime, politics had become fierce. Those who had argued that the Amari had "learned their lesson" from the previous attack had been embarrased and put to shame by the reality they now faced. Either the Amari were so determined to have Equus that they were willing to risk another death by disease, or they had focused on vaccines or drugs that could minimize or eliminate the illnesses they had suffered last time. Given the size of Amari brains, they weren't launching this invasion blindly or stupidly; they would have a plan to deal with microorganisms when they arrived.

Either way, the nobility was demanding Canterlot's protection. It already had it; several heat rays had been converted into stationary gun platforms ringing the city. But demands for increased army presence and defense were enormous. Canterlot's nobles weren't the only ones whining about the need to be protected; those from Manehattan were also calling for the military to give them priority.

Idiots. We've already deployed the army to protect our cities; that's been the plan all along, and surely they've noticed the trains full of soldiers coming in. What more do they want, for all of Equestria's plebians and peasants to sacrifice themselves to save a few pennies?

Luna tended to despise the nobility. There were exceptions, such as Fancy Pants and Fleur-de-Lis, who were pleasant to know and talk to. But most were out for themselves, for their blue blood, and for their wealth. Meanwhile, commoners were actively looked down on; it had taken direct edicts from the Diarchy to force factory owners to pay their laborers fair wages and ensure safety on the job, as the nobles who controlled these factories often opposed it despite injury to their workers. It sadly made sense for these pampered elites to favor their own defense over those of the "lesser" classes. At least the tribal system was stable. Pegasi, earth ponies, unicorns and thestrals alike were united on fighting the Amari.

Even though the initial panic had been overcome - sometimes through force, other times peaceably - it was clear that the calm that had settled back upon the world was a temporary one. Security and order had to be maintained. Ponies had to remain at their jobs, especially those directly involved with the military, in order for vital goods and machines to continue to supply the armies. Farmers needed to tend and grow vast numbers of crops to feed the populace and the military sent to protect them. Perhaps the military being sent to guard the cities of Equestria would quiet the panic.

It was now a matter of wait and see. The Amari were coming, and would be here in a little less than six months if they were travelling at the same speed as last time. If all went well, the Amari would be slaughtered in their cylinders without a chance to emerge and all the panic would have been for nothing.

One can only hope.

Chapter 5

Ponyville, five months later

Spike shuffed the deck of cards in his claws as the other members of the squad gathered around the table near the tent stove for a game of poker. Nickel checked on the frying pan cooking vegetables on the stove as Smolder, Sea Bird, Sovereign Rights - a yellow earth pony with a desire for greater liberties in Equestrian law and greater federalization of Equestria - and Green Grass - a green kirin - sat down.

"I''m starving," Smolder said, sniffing towards the stove. "I'd kill for a plump chicken."

"Would you kill an Amari for it?" Spike asked.

"Oh, yes," the other dragon said, smirking. "A chicken or good goose for every Amari I take out would be a nice bounty."

"I thought dragons mostly eat gems and gold?" Green said, raising an eyebrow.

"We hoard gold, we don't eat it. And yes, we eat gems. But meat is always good, especially if it's been fried first. And we dragons know how to do that well enough," Smolder added, licking her chops.

"Don't worry, I have a few sausages that I'll put on the stove after the veggies are done," Nickel answered.

"Oh well, better than nothing," the yellow dragoness said. "Anyway, what's up for grabs in this game?" she asked as she picked up the cards Spike had passed to her.

"Just a few bits from today's paycheck, added with a bonus of a few gems I found in the local jewelry store," Sovereign told them. "Oh, and this," he added, dropping a large red ruby on the table.

"Is that... a fire ruby?" Smolder asked, eyes fit to burst. "Where...?"

"I did a few odd jobs here and there for Maud Pie. She needed some errands done and she was too busy mining to do them herself. This was my reward."

"Does she realize how rare they are?" Spike asked, looking up from the ruby.

Sovereign shrugged. "She said she had one in her rock collection, and that one was enough for her."

"That will make for a good snack," Smolder said, rubbing her claws together.

"If either of our host dragons win the pot, that is," Nickel reminded them. "And play fair; we're squadmates, after all, and we'll be fighting the Amari together. This is primarily for fun, with a little extra zing added."

"Oh, of course," Smolder reassured him. "But I'm going to win anyway, so it makes no difference."

"We'll see about that," Spike said, with a mock sneer on his face."

Luna looked through her personal telescope into the sky. It was vigil she had been undertaking for the past two months.

The Amari, as far as anyone was aware, had yet to land. But it was always good to be ready.

However, it would be difficult to pinpoint their landings. It was true that she wasn't the only one looking towards the stars; across the planet, the many races of Equus were anxiously scanning the skies, looking for any trace of the Amari.

The aliens had fired about once every 65 minutes for five days, then paused for another two, before engaging in a second wave of firings, again once every 65 minutes, for a final three days.

She paused for breath. It had been calculated that well over five hundred cylinders had been launched if this were the case. Even if that was off, the potential for thousands of Amari to emerge was terrifying. Given the panic that had previously taken place, there had been a clamp-down on all information. Another panic would make it harder to resist the enemy when they arrived.

The Equestrian military had built itself up to impressive heights; over two million in the various military branches, with an equal number in reserve. There were about a thousand tanks and five hundred Mark 1 and 1.2 Mechs ready; six Mark 2s, gigantic in comparison with the first generation, were undergoing their final trials, with another four still incomplete at Manehattan. At least the soldiers weren't complaining about the new Mechs; these slow but powerful walking fortresses had most of their kinks ironed out early on at the urging of every Princess in Equestria, and the soldiers testing them seemed to love them. Luna could sympathize, watching their single but very powerful Amari-made heat ray turn captured fighting machines into slag, or vaporized large parts of them outright. In addition, they had several large quick-firing cannons; several three-inchers, along with a couple eight-inchers for good measure. These blew apart Amari fighting machines with little trouble, though the cannons weren't quite as effective as the heat ray.

Additionally, anti-air tanks had started coming off the assembly lines; these were of two kinds; one type carried a battery of six heavy machine guns, the other a quadruple flak cannon that fired 25mm shells. They were also slow, but were much better armored and capable of turning their guns on ground based enemy fighting machines if necessary. Their main downside was a lack of dedicated anti-ground weapons; they lacked machine guns, so if the Amari had anything like infantry this time around, they would be vulnerable.

Other nations had managed similar feats. While the hippogriff military wasn't nearly as large, they had ringed Mount Aris with defensive artillery of all sizes, along with plenty of anti-air guns and a massive oversupply of gas masks and food for the troops manning them. Additionally, they had a medium-sized but elite navy of powerful dreadnoughts of various classes. A small number of submarines had been built; these carried torpedoes and a single deck cannon that could be used for direct fire upon a tripod or be used to fired at Amari flying machines. The hippogriffs also had the ability to evacuate under the ocean if they had to, though this was hoped to be a last resort. Klugetown, in the desert to the south of Equestria proper, had spent a fortune developing essentially the same strategy as the hippogriffs; put artillery literally anywhere that could hold a modern heavy gun so that every approach to the city was covered. AA guns would cover the skies. Luna personally was unsure if they could hold; unlike Mount Aris, Klugetown was landlocked, and could be surrounded by the enemy at any time. If the Amari tested those defenses and were unable to breach them, they could still starve the city until the defenders were too weak to ably resist them. Or they might decide to cover the entire city with the Smoke in such large quantities that everyone would run out of air and die.

Griffon armies made use of the fact that they could all fly; in addition to armored airships, armed with artillery, they also had heavy caliber rifles capable of penetrating enemy armor. An anti-tripod launcher was another weapon being distributed among their troops, although it had only just begun to enter mass production. Finally, many were armed with heavy machine guns; their job would be to try to pick off enemy flying machines, which had been found to be lightly armored. Yak armies, being large and conspicuous, had developed alternative weapons and strategies; heavily armored warriors equipped with masks and armed with lances tipped with explosives would charge, as individuals or in units, at the Amari ground machines, hoping to catch them off guard and eliminate them before they could recover. Flak cannons were be carried by the largest warriors, and fired by other yaks standing nearby. Saddle Arabia's armies were similarly armed as those of Equestria, but had also allowed for lancer charges. Like the griffons, they had developed a larger caliber rifle, designed for long distance shooting, a replacement for traditional but obsolescent jazzail rifle-muskets. The kirin were in a similar position, although they had developed a gun that used magic to propel a bullet to sound-barrier speeds, the idea being that while the Amari might be immune to magic, they weren't immune to a weapon whose projectile was fired with magic.

Zebras... they were still tribal. They had managed to gather into one large confederation, but it was politically unstable, and their weapons, though better than the spears they had carried previously, was still lacking. They now had modern rifles, but no large caliber ones. They lacked artillery, and had no armored units at all. What they did have was ingenuity. Many were armed with metal cables, the idea being for small ambush units to suddenly burst out of wherever they were hiding and entangle the legs of a fighting machine long enough for other warriors, armed with explosives, to finish the job. They also had developed mines to be triggered before ambushes, hopefully wrecking or dazing some of the Amari before an engagement even began.

A green flare snapped Luna out of her thoughts. She abruptly turned her telescope to face the offending light, but it had gone as soon as it had arrived. Could it be the Amari already?

She wrote a quick note to her Guard Captain, alerting him of the location of the flare in the sky, and sent it via magic. Sadly, she could see no long "tail" as one might expect of a large object entering the atmosphere.

It wasn't long, however, before she received a note; there had indeed been a flare - or rather, explosion, in the sky. The telescope of the Royal Observatory had noticed an object in the sky in the wake of the explosion that hadn't been there before, but it wasn't coming down. Instead, it seemed to be expanding, and seemed to be in orbit. It was clearly artificial in nature, though, and given that Equus had no technology capable of sending an object like that into space, the only reasonable conclusion was that it was Amari in nature.

What in the name of the night are they doing? she wondered.

She looked at her telescope, and got a sinking feeling she knew what the thing was.

Those sneaky devils. They put an observation device into orbit around our world!

But how had it gotten there? Were the Amari landing, even now? And if they weren't, how had this thing arrived so quickly?

In theory, if one fired a smaller, lighter projectile, perhaps at much higher speeds than normal cylinders, I suppose they might reach our world prior to the main force. Clever little monsters. And in such low orbit. If I tried swatting that thing down with the moon, it would heavily damage the planet. Curse the reality of it.

If the Royal Observatory could view Amari, even from so many millions of miles away, what could this Amari satellite, so close to Equus, with even greater powers of observation, see?

The answer; practically everything of importance.

Her sinking feeling continued to dampen her spirits. If the Royal Observatory had right when it first saw those wisps of gas on Amari over five months ago, this satellite would not be alone. If their calculations were right, there could be up to ten of those things in Equus' low orbit right now. They might not be able to view everything at once, but they wouldn't have to. If they remained focused on observing local campaigns, they would be able to see whatever the defenders were doing, which would provide a massive intel advantage.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," she murmured.

It was unclear if Amari tech would be able to see through camouflage spells, but she wrote another note; every unit in Equestria was to use such magic as they could, along with non-magical means, to hide themselves. It might work, or might not, but she had no intention of sitting back and letting the Amari just peer into the planet's native defenses.

Perhaps, with some modification to the current plans and tactics, the war might still go according to plan.

"YES! I won!" Smolder yelled, raising both fists in victory as the others groaned.

"Aw, nuts. I was looking forward to eating that ruby," Spike muttered.

"Better luck next time," the she-dragon said, not unkindly.

"Aw, well, it was mostly for fun anyways," Sovereign said, putting a smile on his face. "I thought I had you with those two queens."

"Yet no queen can beat an ace," Smolder replied, gathering the winning from the pot.

"I'll get you all next time," Nickel said, spooning some soup with vegetables into his mouth

"In your dreams, tech boy," Sovereign said teasingly, to which he got a light tap on the head from Nickel's now-empty spoon.

"At least we did not fall to infighting, as in the previous game," Green Grass answered, pulling out a pipe and putting tobacco into it.

"Hey, Spike clearly cheated with those aces up his armpits," Smolder replied defensively. "It was made all the more obvious because those cards stank so badly."

"Oh common, give it a rest, will ya?' The purple dragon said, laughing. "I never win, and even you were laughing afterwards."

"Didn't mean I didn't give you a good socking over the head."

Spike would have responded, but all of a sudden a screaming alarm began to sound, jerking them out of their personal squabble.

"All soldiers, report to your local assembly areas immediately! This is not a drill!"

"Oh no, not now!" Spike groaned. "Are they here already?"

"Must be," Green said, still lighting her pipe and taking a puff.

"Let's get going!"

There was a scramble as soldiers rushed to their assembly areas; for five minutes, members of many different races were scrambling around, getting ready for what was to come.

Spike and the others managed to arrive in uniform and in relative order. Despite the neat ranks, a lot of curious and frightened whispering could be heard;

"Where do ya think they landed?"

"Could they be here already?"

"What's holding up the brass?

"Could they have hit somewhere as a first strike?"

"What could they have this time around?"

Lieutenant Azurite's voice broke through it all; "Silence in the ranks!"

The whispering stopped.

"Thank you," the blue dragon said. "First of all, the Amari, so far as we know, have not landed on the planet."

Sighs of relief sounded from everywhere.

"But that doesn't mean I have good news," Azurite went on. "Princess Luna and the Royal Observatory observed a burst of green light in the sky. Upon closer inspection, it appears to have been a cylinder that burst open in orbit. Another observation was that that cylinder was apparently carrying an observation device, and that it was settling into orbit around our world. If this is true, then the Amari have begun their offensive by spying on our world before landing. Other nations observed similar things. If the sky-watchers are right, there are ten of these spy drones in orbit above Equus."

Sky Bird cursed. He wasn't alone.

How are we supposed to fight with those things watching us 24/7!?

"The higher ups have given orders; we're going to be camouflaging our units and defensive positions, by means both magical and mundane. We've had some unicorns cast a disruption spell above our base - and the town - that hopefully will jam their ability to see us. But this is the Amari we're talking about; they lack magic entirely, and its not beyond the realm of impossibility that their equipment won't have any issues seeing through that disguise. Therefore, we'll be moving at first light tomorrow about half a mile away to confuse them, and set up some camo beforeclaw to keep them guessing. If we're fortunate, we'll be able to mask our defensive preparations. However, as these things have been in orbit for perhaps an hour, we can expect them to know our basic dispositions. Command is thinking, or will be thinking, of how we can operate under these conditions, so don't blow a gasket just because the tentacle-heads put some shiny metal in the sky. You are dismissed, but we are now in condition red; everyone is to have basic weapons on them wherever they go, and none of you are to stray more than a mile from the base unless I or someone of equal or higher rank gives the word."

The soldiers began to disperse. Green simply puffed again and sighed, while Sea Bird clenched a claw and shook it silently at the sky. Sovereign simply shook his head, and Nickel gazed up at the sky, perhaps wondering where the enemy satellites were and how they functioned.

Spike and Smolder looked at one another for a moment; there were no words between them, only a silent recognition of the imminence of the coming war before parting ways.

Spike sat down on a hill near the base. It was a beautiful night, with the sky being almost blue rather than black, and the moon and stars shone brightly down on the world. It was as if there was going to be no war, no lethal struggle for existence, no destruction of cities and nature alike in a bid for who would rule Equus.

He sighed. It was all an illusion. The Amari were coming, if not this month, then the next. They would have no mercy, no appreciation for the world or its inhabitants. They would kill and destroy to their hearts' content (if they had hearts), and it would be kill or be killed. One side or the other would possess whatever remained of a blasted, bombed, smoky planet. there was no middle ground.

The fact that this beautiful world would be the battleground to the death between the natives and alien invaders was almost too much to bear.

He sat with his head in his claws as he thought of Ponyville burning again, of the unspeakable thought of Twilight and the other Element Bearers being killed, or worse; becoming mere food for the monsters about to descend upon Equus...

It was too much. Hot tears began to drip from his eyes.

He felt something on his shoulder.

He twisted around, pistol in his claw, his sorrow immediately turned to rage...

Only to see Smolder standing there, looking more than a little shocked.

"O-oh," he said, embarrassed. "I'm... sorry." He put the gun back in its holster, wiped his eyes real quick, and sat back down, eyes fixed on the moon.

I can't even tell friend from foe anymore...

"No, I'm sorry," Smolder said apologetically, sitting down beside him. "I should have realized you were having a moment."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Why did you follow me?" Spike asked at last.

"I saw you separate from the rest of us after the announcement about the satellites. You were clearly upset and i was worried. I... followed you, and when I saw you... uh, out of order, I tried to comfort you."

Spike sighed again. "I just can't get over that... all of this -" Here, he waved his claw around Ponyville - "is going to be destroyed and my adopted family... destroyed by those... things."

Smolder laid her claw on Spike's shoulder again. "I know what you mean. Garble nearly got killed by those murderers. He survived a heat ray, but... he's been better. Kinda like Twilight, but with a lot more hacking and coughing. He's still taking potions the zebras kindly lent us, but he's changed; depressed, no interest in delinquency anymore - which could be a good thing, but under the circumstances it happened... Well, let's just say I want my old brother back, not this shadow. And at least Twilight is perfectly fine... ridiculous artificial hoof not withstanding."

That got a chuckle out of Spike. "Okay, that's kind of funny," he admitted, flicking away another tear. "I hope you're not upset-"

"I'm not upset that Twilight got off better than Garble. Yes, I want the old him back, but it was bad fortune he got hit. And I saw plenty of dragons die to the Amari, and others slowly wither away, either from the Smoke or heat ray injuries. At least my bro's still alive, and I know in my heart he'll recover... someday."

There was another silence. The moon continued to shine down upon the town and the world, and the stars shone as if nothing was the matter.

Finally, Smolder reaching into a pocket that was on her uniform and pulled out the fire ruby she'd won earlier. "You know, I wanted to enjoy this all to myself earlier, but with the announcement earlier and see you up here..."

She put the tip of one claw, the sharpest part, to the top of it and dragged it down to the bottom before snapping it in half.

"I think we should share it." She handed one half to Spike.

"T-thanks," he said, taking it.

Both began eating their respective pieces of the gem. For a little while, the thoughts of a world ablaze were numbed under the delicious taste. War was still on the horizon, but for one more night, it was momentarily forgotten, the dragon equivalent of candy and the beauty of the night overcoming the fear the two had held in their hearts.

Author's Note

No, I am not going "that far" in Spike and Smolder's relationship. I do intend for them to fall in love, but there will be no inappropriate scenes either explicit or implied.

Chapter 6

A month later...

The time for the Amari arrival was drawing near. Tonight, if Sunburst's calculations were correct, would see the first Amari cylinders fall to Equus' surface. Across the globe, eyes remained on the sky, whether or not individuals relied on the Mark 1 eyeball or a telescope of some variety.

The aliens had not arrived yet, unless one of their number was in each satellite. Luna deemed this unlikely; as the Amari needed to feed, they would have certainly starved to death by now, and various observers reported that the satellites were in geosynchronous orbit around the planet. They wouldn't have been able to have reached such positioning, and remained there, unless they were being operated by some kind of remote control. In any case, not flying scouts of any nation had found the aliens anywhere. Unless they had landed in some backwater and had done an overzealous job of hiding themselves, the Amari were still in space.

It would still be hard to see the cylinders while they were in high orbit; they would likely appear to be shooting stars to those planet-side. However, the Amari cylinders previously had been easily visible to those who lived in the locales where they had landed; they had resembled comets with green tails as they rocketed downward. And they had been very loud when they hit the ground. It would be difficult to miss them if they came down near any inhabited areas.

Equus was as ready as it could reasonably be.

Equestria's remaining Mark 2 mechs were finished, with five more having just begun production. The Mark 3 mech prototype was just starting to be put together; it had a Tesla cannon on the front that would string electricity between multiple fighting machines, roasting their circuits and frying their pilots, in addition to two medium heat rays and multiple conventional cannons and machine guns. It would be enormous even by the standards of the Mark 2, and would have the ability to go amphibious if necessary. The weapons of many other various nations continued to be produced, and each had their own battle doctrines and plans ready.

But where were the enemy? It was the question Luna and Celestia had come to the Royal Observatory to find out.

So far, there had been no sightings. But Sunburst was absolutely sure that the first cylinders would land tonight.

"Ow!"

Both Diarchs turned toward the telescope itself, having been ripped out of whatever private thoughts they'd had.

"What is it, private?" a sergeant demanded of the soldier who had just bumped his eye socket against the scope.

"Oh, sorry," the red stallion replied. "A shooting star, very fast, and slightly green. It was moving north."

"Can it be tracked?" Celestia asked.

"We'll alert the nearby observatories," the sergeant said, and began issuing orders.

Over the next few minutes, more information came in; a number of smaller observatories, linked to the Royal one by radio and telegraph, reported seeing more cylinders. The first was headed northeastward; another was apparently headed for the extreme northwest. Another two were coming down... in the extreme south, in the Bone Dry Desert, beyond Equestria's official borders. A final one was headed towards the Forbidden Jungle to the southeast.

"Have our flyboys, pegasi and pilots alike, take flight and go on recon," a major in the observatory ordered. "We need to find those things when they land so we can bomb them as soon as possible."

This is only the first wave of those things tonight, though, Luna thought. In another hour and five minutes - minus the time we've spent confirming reports - another bunch of cylinders will be on their way.

Thirty minutes later, more reports from around the world had come in. Three cylinders had crashed deep in the Saddle Arabian desert, though their locations within that desert weren't clear. Another had come down in a desolate area of Zebrica. The final one had crashed in Bugbear Territory to the far northeast.

"Strange," Celestia observed, looking at a globe where the approximate locations of the cylinders was being tracked. "Did their launching guns misfire? They're landing far away from any nourishment."

"Possibly, Sister," Luna conceded, "and yet they managed to put observation satellites in perfect orbit around our planet. I would not chalk this up to an accident. At best, maybe they did miscalculate their initial shots. But these are the Amari; would they really make that kind of mistake?"

Celestia didn't answer ,and for a while neither of them spoke.

More news arrived five minutes later; the five cylinders headed for the Equestrian continent were believed to have landed, though their exact locations were unknown. Red circles were placed around their probable locations on the globe.

Luna looked at these locations. Unlike, for instance, the White Tail Woods landing, the aliens were not in any position to launch the kind of lightning offensives they had performed during the first war. And, as Celestia had noted, most of these locations lacked long-term food sources of the kind the aliens had needed when they had come previously.

Maybe their guns did misfire. But then why continue firing in error?

She waited until the 65 minute deadline came through. There were more sightings - at least the poor stallion didn't slam his face into the visor this time around - and more estimates. This time, only three cylinders were headed for Equestria and its environs. Two more were headed for the Bone Dry Desert, with the third going towards the Hayseed Swamps in the Equestrian southeast.

It took forty more minutes for the reports from the rest of the world to bring news of the other seven. Two more had landed, seemingly in the same area the first three had hit; two had landed in the Kirin Empire, far in the interior, in another desolate location. The remaining three had all landed somewhere in Bugbear Territory.

Luna again felt the same sinking feeling she had felt on previous occasions. "Sister," she began, barely holding back the fear in her voice, "I don't think the Amari have any intentions of landing near major settlements this time."

Celestia stared at the large globe, now hosting more probably landing locations. She gave a reluctant nod. "Based on their landing patterns, no. But why? They need... us... to feed on... Why are they denying themselves necessary subsistence?"

Sunburst, who was standing nearby, let out a foul word, and both Princesses turned to him.

"Sorry, sorry," the orange unicorn stammered. "But I just thought of something; what if not all of these cylinders contain the Amari themselves? What if some of them are mostly - or entirely - full of supplies? We know they must have some kind of food source on their home planet, or they would have never lived long enough to menace ours. If they've brought rations for the initial journey, that might be the answer."

Both Diarchs looked at one another. "That... would be trouble," Celestia admitted. "Do you think they would have any additional materials onboard these theoretical supply cylinders? Metals, heavy weapons, construction materials, parts for factories, energy sources?"

Sunburst didn't even think before nodding. "I don't doubt it. If they're coming to stay, and to wage a long war, they'll want those kinds of things too."

"Do you think there will be any... civilian Amari, for lack of a better term, in this attack?"

Sunburst did take some time to think about that one. "No," he said at last. "If I wanted to colonize a world, and overwhelm it militarily in doing so, I'd want the war to be won before the colonists came down. My guess is, they've sent military personnel and the necessary machines and supplies they need, not housing condos or what would pass for businesses in their society. No, they'll want to crush the resistance first."

They waited longer. More Amari cylinders were sighted. More speculation and guessed landing sites. Each time, it was the same thing; the aliens were landing far away from any major cities or infrastructure.

Luna remained silent this time around, but her mind was swirling. They've invalidated our strategy! We guessed they would land near cities, and we would might be able to kill them before they could properly emerge.

She began to think of the observation satellites in the sky.

Was this their plan all along? Did they plan to land in desolate places? Or do their cylinders have some sort of maneuverability in space and, they corrected their courses in response to what they saw through their spy drones?

If it was the former, Luna had to sadly admit, it made sense. A wise general did not try to fight the last war; the Amari knew their enemies had survived - the majority of them, at least - and that their opponents were smart enough to learn from their victories and defeats in the War. If it was the latter, that would mean they had gone into the campaign with the ability and intent to adjust where they would land based on what their satellites could see.

Either way, as hours dragged on and more and more reports came in, it was clear the Amari were not where the world's military commanders had expected them to be. The second war had barely begun, but already the Amari had outsmarted their opposites. It did not bode well for the future.

Can we survive this onslaught? Or will they still prevail despite all we've done? Only time will tell. Creator, save us, please.

Spike and the rest of the squadron were in their assembly area, gathered before Lieutenant Azurite. No one had said it, but everyone knew; this was it. It was war day. There would be no going back; many of them would likely die before the conflict was over.

"Unfortunately, the Amari did not land as we had planned," Azurite was saying. "They haven't landed near any big towns, nor near major roads and railroads. Instead, they've chosen to land in deserts, jungles, frozen wastelands and other desolate locations. As of yet, we haven't seen them, but it took the Amari about half a day to begin emerging and building their fighting machines last time. By now, the first of them will probably be waking up and starting to build their engines of murder. As such, our strategy of killing them in their pods before they could awake has failed.

"However," he went on, "that doesn't mean the aliens aren't vulnerable. Some cylinders will be falling throughout the day, and some may still fall within nearby territory, even though we're no longer counting on it. Aerial squadrons are already searching for the invaders." Azurite's eyes suddenly flashed with a hunter's joy, the kind that came from a successful kill. "I'm more than happy to inform you all that the Amari observation of our world wasn't able to make things out perfectly; at least one cylinder landed in soft ground in the Griffish Isles, burying it's inhabitants alive. Another fell into a large bog in the Hayseed Swamps, where any Amari in them likely drowned. Finally, the 7th Aerial Squadron made the first sighting of the enemy on the Equestrian continent; at 8:55 today, they found an Amari cylinder in the Badlands and attacked it with bombs and rockets, doing significant damage to the structure and ripping hole through it, which they fired into using their machine guns. Any Amari left alive will likely have their equipment destroyed or damaged."

A cheer went up from the troops, even though two of the three setbacks suffered by the enemy were due purely to the terrain, not military might.

"Unfortunately, several dozen cylinders have landed on the planet, and we're only getting scattered reports from other nations. We know where the majority of the enemy have landed on this continent; the Bone Dry Desert to the south, the Undiscovered West, the Forbidden Jungle and Hayseed Swamps to the southeast, and the mountains in the North. Klugetown, the Crystal Empire, Yakyakistan, and the Changeling Hive are all in imminent danger, along with Equestria itself. Our division will be heading west, to prevent the Amari from breaking out of there and stop them from reaching Tall Tale and Las Pegasus. Unfortunately, we won't have the infrastructure - yet - to bring us directly to what we could generously call the 'front lines,' so we'll be loading up here and disembarking from White Tail Woods, and head west from there. Volunteer laborers and career railroad workers will be doing their best to build up our road and rail network to support us, though they have a lot on their various appendages to deal with and might be understaffed at the moment. We'll be needing to resupply via airship for now. I'm aware that this limits our mobility, and our chances to advance on the enemy beyond our infrastructure is next to nil for our ground forces, especially tanks and mechs. M.A.R.S. forces will be deployed across the continent to engage the enemy where possible, and the Flight Corps will continue their attacks on enemy forces where they find them and where they have the range and weapons to do so.

"We have a chance to stop the enemy before they ravage any towns or our logistics. We have a chance to remember our honored dead from the first war. We can, and we will, find enemy weaknesses and take advantage of them. We can and will win the war this time.

"But first," Azurite said, and paused for dramatic effect. "I have some good news. Our platoon will be receiving the Mark 1.2 mech, which has enhanced performance compared to the first iterations, and these will be replacing our 1.1s. They operate with the same controls, so using them will be like using your previous mechs, only easier."

Another cheer came. Few had been satisfied with the first version of the Mk. 1s, and to be fair most had seen Mk 1.2s in action, which did seem to operate more fluidly and slightly faster than the original design did. Spike had been on of the few who had had the pleasure to operate one, courtesy of being the adopted little brother of an Equestrian Princess, and the machine had worked very much like the original, without the repeated breakdowns. Even it's heat ray seemed a little stronger than the original, though how much that would help in battle was a question yet to be answered.

Of course, came the thought in Spike's mind, that means our old clankers will be passed off to newer recruits. I pity them. But the thought of not having to constantly be fixing problems and being given machines that would work was overwhelming.

"Pack your things and get ready. We board our train in an hour, and we'll be departing twenty minutes after that." The Lieutenant saluted. "Dismissed."

Once again, Spike boarded the train, putting his duffel bag on his lap as he sat down. Others were doing likewise. Nickel was holding a battery-powered radio; it was primitive, and the antennae on them had to be constantly readjusted to hear anything. But it would prove to be a good distraction once they got moving.

The rest of the squadron piled in and sat down.

Okay... duffel bag, check. Mechs safely fastened onto flatcars, check. Snacks... he checked a pocket of his bag. Check.

He sat down. He didn't feel much like talking. If anything, he felt numb. The war was finally here. And, as he looked around, he realized that most of his squadron felt the same way.

As the train began moving, the car was almost completely quiet. Compared to their first deployment to Ponyville, no one was talking. There were a few whispers, but they were occasional and short-lived.

The only real noise was the portable radio carried by Nickel. Every so often, it would actually sound out clearly. "Saddle Arabia declares mobilization of the reserves..." "Mount Aris announces it's fleet is ready to move..." "...unconfirmed reports of Amari fighting machines in the Badlands..." "Griffonia declares war on the Amari..." "Inhabitants of Hollow Shades claim to have seen battle between lights in the night sky..." "Equestrian Air Force reports bombing of a cluster of cylinders..."

The train continued to move. As it had priority, it did not stop for any station, and as such there were no stops. The landscape seemed to fly by. As the hours passed, the silence, aside from mostly static from Nickel's radio, continued.

Finally, the train stopped so the engine could be refueled. As it was, Nickel was able to get the antennae on the radio to work properly, and for once complete broadcasts could be received;

"-th Aerial Squadron reports successful rocket attack on Amari cylinder in the western Bone Dry Desert. Unfortunately, when pegasi scouts went to inspect the damage, it was found to have been used purely for cargo, and the brave defenders of Equestria had no means to take the materials with them."

"Aw, great, a wasted attack," Sea Bird grumbled, breaking the silence.

"Not like they could know beforeclaw," Smolder replied. "If they all look the same on the outside..."

"-8th Pegasi Rangers have found an Amari cylinder in the Hayseed Swamps, south of Baltimare. The Amari have emerged from the cylinder, with at least one fighting machine. The Rangers withdrew without casualties, albeit with much of the swamp trees being burned by enemy heat rays."

"So, they're out," Spike said, voice full of gloom. "That's bad."

"The 20th Aerial Squadron is on its way to finish the job with its load of bombs and rockets, as are the Tank and Mech Corps. Foot soldiers and artillery crews will be ferried to the predicted lines of battle."

"That's not gonna do much, if the Amari huddle under the trees instead of burning them all down," Nickel note,d and the others gave grim grunts in response.

"The 3rd Yak Army has reported making contact with four Amari fighting machines just north of Luna Bay. Equestrian naval and aerial forces are on their way to assist in the imminent battle. Additionally, the 30th Pegasi Rangers have engaged two flying machines north of the Caves of Conundrum in the western half of the Bone Dry Desert, using high-caliber rifles. Casualties were heavy for the pegasi, but the regiment reported that one flying machine withdrew from the fighting covered in flames and it's armor pierced repeatedly by the rifles the pegasi used; the other covered its comrade, joining it in retreat."

"Ugh, I wonder how heavy their losses were," Spike mumbled. "I'm sure it was steep. Regiments have a thousand ponies or other beings in them. They probably lost at least a couple hundred; could have been half of them wiped out."

"Sounds like the Amari scum piloting the thing is gonna crash," Sea Bird said hopefully.

"Klugetown has reported firing on, but not damaging, a flying machine. More cylinders have been tracked by Rangers and by the Hippogriff Scouts; five have landed in Slung Troll Swamp in the far south of the continent, and another two confirmed to have come down in Pine Needle Barrens.

"Friends and brave allies, the situation is dire, but not desperate," the announcer went on. "The enemy have landed in patterns that suggest an attempt to surround the Equestrian continent from its extremes, away from any cities of note, but in locations where our troops, aside from those in the air, have difficulty getting to. But while the enemy will be able to emerge unscathed, they need to crush our resistance if they intend to win. They will have to launch offensives against our various civilizations, where they will find the determined soldiers and survivors of the last war waiting for them. With the memories of the previous murders and knowledge of the abject evils the enemy seek to subject us all to, they will fight the enemy with weapons capable of slaying the invaders. Already, as we've noted before in other broadcasts today, the enemy have suffered losses; five minutes ago, a report came in that a cylinder in the Griffish Isles was bombed by airships and pulverized; this time, remnants of Amari bodies were found inside the ruins of the cylinder, and as such one pod of fighting machines will never get off the ground. While these victories are small, and the majority of the enemy cannot be reliably assaulted, we have proven even in the first day of this invasion that we are more able to handle the murderous curs of Amari than we were previously. As our aeroplanes, tanks, mechs, and soldiers march to battle, know that the enemy will not have things all his way this time, and we can defeat him."

King Thorax waited, his impatience growing, for his brother's return.

The Amari were in the Badlands. They could be at the hive in days, if not hours. He needed to know where they were. Pharynx had sent out squads of soldiers to patrol, but he had also gone with one of them to reconnoiter.

He never was willing to send his fellow warriors into situation that he wouldn't wade into himself. I generally admire that about him, but today-

Pharynx almost broke open the doors with the amount of force he used to open them. Without any further ado, he simply trotted into the throne room. "Bro, we've got problems."

"Are they that close already?"

"Not yet," the muscular changeling answered. "But it's not good. We know that at least four cylinders landed in the south west, another two in the north east, and two each to the west and south."

"We're surrounded, then." Thorax tried desperately not to let his fear show on his face.

"Yeah. But I'm not sure that it's because of us. Another two cylinders landed a few miles away from the hive, and-"

"WHAT!?! Why didn't you lead with that information!?"

"Because you didn't let me finish," Pharynx said, unfazed. "Yeah, they landed close, and the Amari in them are already out, but they weren't advancing on the hive; I don't think they realize its there."

Thorax let out a deep breath. "That they haven't moved to attack us yet doesn't mean they won't get to it eventually," he stated.

"But if we look at their locations on the map, it seems to me like they wanted to secure the Badlands. My other scouts have all reported that there isn't any major attempt being made by the enemy to attack; they're just constructing their machines."

"And once they're finished, where do you think they're gonna go?"

"Wherever their war plans told them to. The Badlands are almost entirely surrounded by mountains, with only two small passes to the north and south, both easily defended or blocked. If I had to guess, they must have planned to use the very nature of the Badlands as a fortress. Think about it; any allied forces brought in by air can be detected and fried by heat rays before they can set up a base with proper logistics. Tanks and Mechs can't get through, not without either having to disassemble and then reassemble them or teleport them one or two at a time."

Looking at the war map in the center of the room, Thorax concluded that his brother was right. "But what about us? What do we do? We can't camouflage our hive any more than it already is, because their satellites will notice."

"So we don't. You know we have an army, bro; I sure know it, having had to whip them into shape. And we're changelings; we can adapt to look like whatever we want with a few exceptions."

"What are you suggesting?"

"We fight a guerilla war against the Amari. Our army is well armed and, though I'd never admit it to them, they're ready. We have high caliber rifles and artillery; no tanks, because we weren't able to get those underground factories constructed in time. No aeroplanes, either. But we don't need that fancy junk. We can mimic rocks and plants until the invaders pass, then when they've passed by and aren't looking, we stick dynamite charges on them, blast their legs, joints, and other vulnerable parts with our rifles, and use hidden artillery to blow anything that survives all that away."

"That might work once or twice, Pharynx. But the Amari aren't idiots. They won't fall for the same tricks over and over again."

"That's why we'll improvise; never hit 'em in the same way twice. We send out scouts, they blend in like we all can, and those scouts find their weaknesses. Then we kill the Amari."

"I hope you're right, Pharynx. Because the hive is virtually at the center of the hole of the 'donut' we're stuck in. If the Amari want a centralized command center in the region, they'd set up shop only a few miles away. Much too close."

"I'll admit, I hadn't thought of that. You've learned strategy too."

"I have to; I'm the king of the changelings. It's my duty to protect my people from being slaughtered. We were fortunate that the Amari didn't find the hive the first time they invaded, but we can't count on that remaining the case forever. Have some of our drones constantly digging evacuation tunnels; we'll need them if our home gets attacked directly. And try to get gas masks for the entire population if you haven't already; we'll need them in the case where we need to evacuate."

"Good thinking, bro. I'll have them get started right away."

"Good. And I'd like our armies to use tunnels we already have when they move out to hit the enemy; the longer the enemy are confused as to where we are, the longer we survive."

"Of course."

Continent 1 - 2, cycle 7912.8

Mudpudjaris groggily awoke from its long slumber. It registered the heavy gravity of the New Homeworld as it expelled the sludge it had consumed. The stuff was revolting, but had served to cushion the blow of reentry and landing.

It tried to get up, and failed. It tried again, this time managing to just barely pull itself from its chamber. Nearby, other People were doing the same.

"The New Homeworld's gravity will take much getting used to," another Person named Prisgarjenkis said, his telepathic voice drifting over them all.

"With time, it will become normal," Mudpudjaris replied. "In the meantime, we have much work to do. We begin construction of the weaponry at once."

"Yes, commander," all of its hivemates replied.

Mudpudjaris began to drag itself over to its transportation chair across the room. These chairs, with their tentacles and light heat rays, would provide the means by which to begin their work. The handling machines were much deeper in the cylinder, and would take a while to get to. But the chairs, with their basic equipment, would serve initially.

As it pressed the button to unleash its chair, it thought about the conditions on the Homeworld that had led to this moment.

The Homeworld had once been teeming with life. It was colder than the New Homeworld, but bearable. However, life had begun to erode. It had first begun thousands of cycles ago, and at first little seemed to change. However, as hundredcycles passed, the world become colder; the atmosphere receded, the waters retreated to the poles, and it became dangerous to live on the surface as the weather grew to become greatly destructive and unpredictable. The People had had to retreat to underground cities built in the enormous mountains of the Homeworld.

As Mudpudjaris got into it's chair - and it's companions did likewise - it continued thinking. Even though the mountains had provided safety, this movement had been inadequate. The People retreated to the hives they had constructed for themselves in the mountains, and it had not taken long for war to break out between them. For several hundrecycles, a series of hive wars had devastated the People. One hive after another was overwhelmed and exterminated by it's neighbors, and what had once been thousand of hives decreased to one thousand, as the smaller hives were wiped out to make room and secure resources for the more numerous ones. And in the background, the Homeworld continued to decay, only fueling the People's desperation, fueling more wars. The number of hives decreased by another three hundred.

By that point, alternative solutions, some of them more radical than others, had been suggested. The use of climate stabilizers had been floated around; they would have essentially been used to exude the necessary atmospheric gases the People needed in order to breathe, with the hope that this would also halt the collapse of the ecosystem. Another idea had been to launch giant mirrors into orbit to melt the ice caps the planet's water had mostly withdrawn to. Still another plan was to double down on going underground; the entire society would dig not just into mountains but also through the planet's crust wherever there was space and equipment to do so.

But the most common plan was simply to head towards the one world in the system that had regular access to sunlight, water, and life in general; the New Homeworld, then known as the Centerworld.

Many had scoffed at this plan; the sun was clearly orbiting the Centerworld, and as such the beings there were either technologically advanced or had some other source of power to control it. An invasion could see it used against them. And recently, several discrepencies, fortunately short-lived, had been observed.

But there was no other alternative. While the Homeworld still had abundant mineral resources, life was becoming harder. Even living in the mountains, with hydroponic farms and ranches, cities, mines, and magnet-line carriers, was getting more and more difficult. After all, a number of hive cities had been destroyed when groundshakes had caused the rocky ceilings high above to collapse. And while the mountains provided shelter from the meteorites that now regularly struck the Homeworld, a few of these had hit powerfully enough to cause the same kind of devastation as groundshakes did. And then there was the issue of limited space, which was the primary cause of the hive wars. The Homeworld was smaller than the Centerworld. Even with Greatmountain, which served as a capital city of the Hives Council, it would take ages to dig the necessary amount of room for the People to live in. It had indeed taken a long time just to dig the initial underground hiveforts that had served as the basis for new cities.

The Centerworld did not have these problems. It had plenty of room, plenty of atmosphere that showed no signs of collapsing, and most importantly, plenty of food.

One hive, one of those blessed with a thousand or more individuals, decided to send an expedition to the Centerworld. They had constructed a launching gun on the surface of Greatmountain to fire cylinders full of People and their machines to the Centerworld, which they had now started calling the New Homeworld.

The expedition had fared well initially. Plenty of prey were on the world; some were clearly intelligent, and had put up resistance to the expedition. But these primitives were routed in one engagement after another, with these fights barely being worth called battles. One prey city after another had been destroyed and exterminated, with some of the prey being captured for food. All was going well.

And then the People on the expedition started getting sick.

It had started with a few individuals, who were quickly quarantined. That did not solve the problem, however. More People continued to get sick, and many died shockingly fast, some within a just few daycycles of getting sick. The entire expedition had died of these illnesses.

Fortunately, the expedition had managed to discover just what had made them ill; microorganisms, mostly from within the prey they feasted upon. These, not the resistance of the prey, had brought the People in the expedition low. Some data had been received before the last of the expedition had died, but most of the necessary knowledge was either lost or hadn't been compiled before then.

The expedition had failed. But the fact remained that had the microorganisms been suppressed or eradicated, the People would likely have destroyed all resistance and conquered the New Homeworld. The primitives on the planet hadn't been able to offer resistance capable of doing more than delay the conquest. They had used powers unseen on the Homeworld, but these had proven ineffective.

It wasn't as if the prey were completely harmless; they had succeeded in killing some of the People before being crushed. And observatories had noticed something some eight cycles ago, some two cycles after the first expedition; the New Homeworld was starting to show signs of industrialization. Smoke billowed from primitive cities, and it was clear that the prey were building up to defend themselves against another attack.

That had led to an increased determination to launch another, successful invasion before the prey could build defenses that could reliably kill the People when they landed. Nine more launching guns had been constructed on Greatmountain, and airtight cylinders constructed to transport them and their equipment to the New Homeworld. Plans were made to aim at locations where the intelligent prey lacked cities or infrastructure; although this would be a burden upon the invasion's food supply, it would be temporary. It was predicted that the prey would protect their population centers, and they would likely respond very violently to another attack force. As such, protecting the People was of primary importance, so that they could build their hiveforts before the prey could use their primitive transport systems to deliver assault forces against the cylinders. Initial efforts would be made to remain concealed from the native forces at first; once strong enough, and as soon as the first hiveforts were of sufficient strength to deter attack, the People could launch their own offensives.

As Mudpudjaris began using his chair to bring out the first construction materials, it thought about the problems that would come from living here. The sun clearly revolved around the Homeworld. The reason was unknown, but clearly it was the natives who had control. An attack on a city in the center of Continent 1, a city on a mountain, had seen the sun delayed in the sky for hours before it resumed moving. Apparently, it was linked to a white prey creature with wings and a horn. offensives against that city were expressly forbidden, in addition to surrounding areas. An artificial circle would be drawn around this city, not to be crossed before the People had the chance to know what the white prey creature used to control the celestial bodies around the planet. Once this means had been located or discovered, then the mountaincity would be destroyed once again.

But first, the fighting machines needed to be constructed. These would serve as both weapons and as much greater transportation for the People.

There was much work to do.

Chapter 7

"White Tail Woods, everypony," the earth pony conductor shouted as the train was slowing down. "White Tail Woods."

"Get ready to disembark," Lieutenant Azurite commanded. "Take what you have, then get to your assigned machines. We'll be moving out within the hour, and I want everyone ready on the dot."

The train continued to slow down as it reached the big curve that would normally have led it to Las Pegasus. Finally, it came to a stop, and white steam billowed from the engine, along with a long, loud hissing.

"Go, go, go!" Azurite ordered.

Spike quickly got up and walked off the trains, followed by everyone else. He marched his way over to the flatcars that were in back of the coaches and waited for the workers to get the ramps set up so the mechs could get walking too. It took a while for them to do so, but once it was complete he practically ran up to the first machine on the car.

It was in a crouching position, waiting for someone to get inside. He promptly climbed up into it, closed the cockpit, and turned the machine on.

Like the others, it would take some time to get under steam. In the meantime, he would wait.

Mudpudjaris watched the first of the fighting machines take shape. The legs were in place. The torso would come next. Then the tentacles and at last the heat ray.

Of course, other weapons, such as the Black Dust, would be added on. And there were other weapons the Hives Council had approved of, some which would see the light of day only when battle with the natives came.

It would take some hours before all the equipment was ready. Mudpudjaris calculated that it would take three planetary rotations - Homeworld calculations, of course - to get all the machines ready.

The hivefort that the Camnaris Hive would construct would require equipment that was in supply cylinders. So far, only one such cylinder was within reach, once the fighting machines were finished, but more would be landing within a tenthday's time. By then, the hive's warriors would be relatively safe in their machines.

Mudpudjaris allowed a tentacle to waver in an uncomfortable gesture. From the communications device in their cylinder, news of the invasion was already coming in. Most hive members who had landed had safely managed to build their fighting and flying machines on the New Homeworld. Most, but not all. In a few disturbing cases, the intelligent prey on the planet had succeeded in using explosive and chemically-propelled projectiles to damage or even outright destroy cylinders. Enemy flying machines, primitive but much improved from the previous invasion, had proven dangerous. Additionally, armored machines were being transported to various landing sites by the prey's transport systems, according to data provided by the observation satellites in orbit. They were likely steam powered. Compared to machines powered by heavy elements, they would be very primitive, but the weapons they carried might, in great numbers, be a threat to the People's fighting machines.

Fortunately, the material already in the Camnaris Hive's territory would be adequate, along with the handling machines, to construct the hivefort. With multiple heat rays deployed along the thick walls, and with garrisons of fighting machines, it would be highly improbable that the prey could penetrate them. Even their aircraft would have difficultly inflicting any meaningful damage before being destroyed.

In total, the Camnaris Hive had twenty members, including the members in this cylinder, in their assigned territory. A large section of Continent 1, designated Continent 1-2, had been set aside for their hive. It would be enough for the time being, but to make room for other hives, it was imperative that the conquest begin in earnest as soon as possible. Twenty members would not be enough to conquer the entire continent, but raids for destruction, materials, and prey to capture would suffice until the remaining warriors and their supplies had reached the planet.

Spike and the others were slowly making their way through the plains toward the first cylinder in their path. It was still miles away, and it would take time to get there.

"Wish these dumb things would move faster," Sea Bird said over the radio. "I want to get my licks in."

"We're still some klicks away," Smolder replied, her voice echoing through the receiver. "We'll make it."

"The flyboys said the Amari are out already," Spike added. "They're building their fighting machines, and quickly."

"And they also said that the Amari in two other cylinders had already finished construction, and are headed toward this one," Nickel put in. "We'll be facing twelve fighting machines in total."

"This is Lieutenant Azurite; zip it, all of you. For all we know, the Amari are tracking our transmissions. No further communications are allowed unless I say so. Out."

Figures.

The journey so far had been entirely uneventful. But that meant a lot of monotony and boredom.

"Guess I'll try turning off the mike and try talking to myself," Spike mumbled.

Rainbow Dash struggled to fly while in harness. It was made all the harder by her metal wings not being as reliable as her old ones.

As she flew high over the Bone Dry Desert with the other Wonderbolts, she thought of the horrific second attack on Ponyville. She remembered the pain of the heat ray as it burned her wings off. She remembered plummeting towards the ground, saved only by Twilight's magic and Fluttershy's courageous efforts in flying her to a field hospital in a town the Amari fortunately didn't attack until a couple days later, by which time she had been transported north, to a town called Fortune's Rest. There, she, the other Element Bearers, and the Princesses had awaited the end... which thankfully hadn't come.

It had taken a lot of work for Twilight to build her new wings. It had been painful as they were fused into Rainbow's neural system so they could operate as closely to the real thing as possible. Although they worked well, it meant she couldn't do all the daredevil stunts she'd once enjoyed, nor use her feathers to communicate or hold objects. It had been so difficult. Something important had been ripped away from her, not to be brought back in this life.

She was fortunate she still had friends to get her through it. A lot of Equestria had been laid waste, and millions of ponies had died, not to mention losses among the other races on Equus.

As a member of the Wonderbolts, and thus the military, she was determined not to let the Amari win. It was why she was tolerating wearing a harness with machine guns strapped to her sides. It had seemed a ridiculous idea, given the inevitable recoil, but magic had managed to solve that problem with a kind of suspension system that would nullify the recoil of the guns. She'd flown twice with this harness, fired the guns, and they'd worked.

"Contact!" Captain Spitfire shouted. "Flying machines, two of them, below us, perhaps three thousand feet. Looks like they're heading for the railroad. We can't let them damage the rails, or our boys and girls on the ground won't be able to get in place to take out those cylinders. It's up to us to stop them."

Rainbow felt a little sick as she saw the flying machines. The reminded her of three-dimensional trapezoids, outfitted with small wings, a small but lethal heat ray on each of its four bottom corners, and, somewhere under it, a Smoke projector.

Her blood ran cold. She'd seen the field hospital get smothered by one of those things. It had been a hectic evacuation, to put it lightly. Nopony who had breathed any of the Smoke had survived, which was the vast majority of the wounded and staff.

That coldness soon turned to fire as she remembered coming back to Ponyville after the War. To see her home in ruins, with bloated and burned bodies of ponies killed over a week prior littering the ground. Lily, Carrot Top, Octavia, and so many others had had their lives extinguished, like a hoof crushing a bug.

That wasn't going to happen a second time.

She put on her goggles and, in formation with the others, began to dive.

The Amari either didn't see them coming, or were distracted by their task. Whatever the reason, as the pegasi flew down from the clouds, the flying machines, fast as they were, couldn't outrun the diving pegasi.

Spitfire fired first, followed by everypony else. Machine gun bullets spattered across the upper side of the leading flying machine; first dents, and then holes, appeared in its structure. Somepony must have hit something critical, because the flying silver trapezoid began to burn, flames blazing out of the holes the pegasi had put into it. As it began to nose over, it exploded and broke in half; the front sped groundward, followed by the end section.

The Wonderbolts would have cheered, but then the other pilot got its act together.

Several of the Wonderbolts had been going so fast that they'd ended up under the flying machine. It took advantage of that fact by firing its forward heat rays.

Fleetfoot let out a scream of terror as one beam went past her. She let out another of pain as the second one bore a hole right through her torso, from back to belly. She staggered, then fell towards the ground.

Thunderlane was fired on next; the large pegasus stallion tried to turn around, but the heat ray caught him in the face. His headless corpse dropped straight towards the ground.

Misty Fly managed to turn around and began pummeling the left front heat ray with her hooves. Another heat ray, almost contemptuously, turned towards her and roasted her stomach. She fell too, not as steeply as the other two, but still in clear danger.

Blaze also turned around and hammered the flying machine with bullets. A heat ray blazed across her wings. She screamed, and fell towards the ground. Sky Stinger and Vapor Trail followed her, clearly trying to catch her. The heat ray, mercifully, didn't follow either of them; perhaps they were diving too fast for accurate targeting.

Wild Fire shot at the rear of the flying machine. The rear heat rays fired; one missed entirely, but the other burned her tail off. She screeched in pain, but flew above the machine, clearly still able to fly and not in critical danger.

Lightning Streak wasn't so fortunate. A heat ray virtually bisected him, ripping him open from neck to tail. He fell without a sound from his lips, spine burned away and very clearly dead.

Rainbow felt her anger burn. She was one of those who had managed to pull up before getting underneath the infernal thing, and now, enraged, she flew onto the back of the remaining flying machine, turned her guns on it, and let it have it, screaming in rage as her bullets either bounced off the fuselage or ripped holes through the Amari machine.

"THIS IS FOR ALL MY FRIENDS, YOU COWARDLY MONSTERS FROM HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELL!!!!!" she screeched as her face was lit up in red from both her own wrath and the blaze of her guns.

There was a light explosion from within the machine; Rainbow jumped off as it began to nosedive towards the ground. It didn't explode, but smoke poured from the back of the machine as it plummeted. The heat rays did not fire, although the Smoke projector on the underside of the machine unleashed a stream of lethal gas as it continued to fall.

It did explode upon hitting the ground. Rainbow felt some comfort in that, but it did little to ease the sense of loss she felt. Four, possibly five, dead in just a minute or two of combat. One, perhaps two, badly injured.

She was relieved to see Sky and Vapor ascending again, having caught Blaze. Blaze was alive, but howling in pain. She likely would never fly again, not with her wings gone and her back burned like that. It would be a miracle if they got her back to base, and another one if she survived the treatment.

"Wonderbolts, on me," Spitfire said, but without the same eagerness she usually had in her voice. "That's two flying machines down, and the railroad secured for the moment. But we don't leave any of our own behind, even the dead. Gather up the bodies, or what's left of them. We'll hold a funeral for them back at base."

As the surviving Wonderbolts scrambled to follow her orders, Rainbow couldn't help but wonder; How many of us will survive next time? She couldn't know, and anger and sorrow warred in her heart.

"Tenth Aerial Squadron here," came a voice from the receiver. "We're found a cylinder; Amari already out; they're building their machines with some kind of chair things. Looks like they've nearly completed their tripods. M.A.R.S. Corps, you'll have to hurry if you want to get 'em before they're done."

"Ten-two," a female voice said, plane engine in the background. "I'm seeing four machines heading towards this cylinder from the northwest. By Celestia's mane, they move quick!"

"Ten-five," a male voice broke in, "Another four from the southwest heading for their location. Also moving at high speed. You'll have a fight whether you want it or not, M.A.R.S. Corps."

"Squadron 1-1 here," Lieutenant Azurite replied. "Copy. Out. Alright, boys and girls, we've got eight completed fighting machines ahead of us, and it looks like they want a fight. Four more, if the Amari finish them. Do not let them finish them. Speed up your machines. Overclock them if you have to for a while if necessary. We outnumber them over four to one, but anyone who gets overconfident will have to answer to me, if he or she lives through this battle, that is. No further radio communications allowed unless its an emergency."

Spike pulled on of the control levers, then pressed a button. At once, the mech unleashed a spurt of steam and smoke and began walking somewhat faster.

Where are the tanks? he thought to himself. The Fifth Armored Brigade was supposed to help them.

Colonel Javelin facehoofed. The train carrying the Fifth Armored could not have had worse luck.

Everything had been smooth sailing at first... until they reached the bridge. The bridge, over some no-account creek, was wide enough for the train and its cars, but the tanks were too wide. The first tank had slammed into the bridge - or vice versa - and had been flung off its flatcar. The other tanks had suffered the same fate, with all of them suffering some measure of damage, and now they were all off their cars, dinged up and some with busted parts and weapons. Coal that had been loaded in them had spilt everywhere.

"What idiot didn't see a need to extend the bridge to accumulate war traffic in the event of another invasion?" he growled, finally bringing his hoof down from his face. "I want their hindquarters cut off and mounted above my fireplace yesterday."

"It was my fault too," the locomotive engineer said. "I was going too fast."

"Somepony is getting seriously fired for this screw up; I swear I'm living until I at least see that happen," the colonel growled furiously.

"What about Squadron 1 of the M.A.R.S. Corps?" an earth pony asked. "They're heading straight for the Amari."

Javelin thought about it. On the one hoof, the squadron had fifty mechs. They could handle the machines they'd be facing, though not without losses. Furthermore, he didn't want the enemy to have the chance to group up and entrench; the observation satellites would have seen the other train, its mechs, and the aircraft coming. Giving a hard-hitting enemy time to prepare was the worst thing one could do.

On the other hoof, the enemy would likely have more advanced weaponry. While some of their tech hadn't improved much since the first war - the flying machines in particular had been the same as last time - their ground forces would probably have heavier stuff.

In all likelihood, M.A.R.S. would win, but would suffer badly in the process.

At last, he made his decision; it was better to strike before the enemy was fully ready than to wait. As much as he hated the hard arithmetic of war, Equestria and the other nations had the spare bodies and machines they needed to replace those who had fallen. And M.A.R.S. would not be alone; it had the Tenth Aerial Squadron to engage in air strikes and reconnaissance. They would be ready for battle.

"Command them to keep going. And order the Tenth Aerial to begin their assault on the cylinder and the Amari there. With any good fortune, we might destroy their machines before they're completed. Creator bless our forces."

"Copy, command, over and out," Lieutenant Commander Wind Runner answered, before turning off the radio. The blue pegasus stallion looked down, towards the cylinder. The Amari might or might not have been aware of their presence; they were busy building their machines.

"Tenth Squadron, assemble. Command has ordered us to attack the Amari at this cylinder. And you all know that enemy reinforcements are on the way."

They all got into formation, their canvas, wood, and metal machines occasionally making some noise as they did so.

"Prepare to dive on my mark."

No one answered; the wind and the sounds of the engines were the only things that could be heard.

"Mark! Go, go, go, go!"

As one, they nosed their planes over and started their dives.

"Commander! Enemy aircraft!" Prisgarjenkis shouted over the telepathic link. "We are under attack!"

Mudpudjaris looked up; the primitive flying machines of the prey had been observing them. Now, it seemed, they were about to engage.

"Quickly! Into the fighting machines!" it ordered.

"But commander, they are not complete-"

"Follow my orders! Get in the fighting machines!"

The members of the hive did so, raising their chairs so that they could transfer themselves to their fighting machines.

Prisgarjenkis was right; the machines weren't ready just yet. They still needed their communications and targeting systems installed. But they were armored, they had weapons, and they could move. That was all that mattered right now.

Mudpudjaris slid into its fighting machine, the cockpit closing as it wound its tentacles around the two main levers. It began moving forward.

"Scatter! Maintain a distance from one another. Fire heat rays when the opportunity arises."

Its hivemates did so; they turned as necessary and began to move away from one another.

A slight whistling sound could be heard. Seconds later, falling explosives landed around where they had been mere moments before, smashing chairs and damaging or destroying equipment that had yet to be installed as the erupting blasts unfolded.

"That was much too close," another of its hivemates, Clendargenkis, said, a note of relief in it's voice.

"Enemy aircraft pulling out of their dive," Prisgarjenkis said, aiming its heat ray skyward.

Mudpudjaris did likewise, using its viewing screen and best calculations to target the prey craft.

Wind Runner cursed. The bombs had - mostly - landed where they were supposed to, but the infernal Amari had somehow gotten into their machines and moved out before his squadron could re-aim.

They still had rockets and machine guns. And he had his orders; do what damage he could to the enemy.

"Get your rockets ready!" he said over the radio. "I want these things smothered in rockets!"

"Commander, they're aiming at us!" a panicking mare named Sky Buster shouted.

"Keep fly-"

A heat ray passed by his machine, narrowly missing it. He instinctively pulled away, a useless but instinctive response.

Other heat rays were firing, too. So far, none had hit; Compared to the previous invasion, these Amari seemed to be bad shots.

"Keep flying," he continued. "Turn and fire rockets at whatever machine is closest to you and blow it to smithereens."

He followed his own orders, turning to face the machine that had moved towards the northwest. it was still turned away from him, although its heat ray was turned over its metaphorical shoulder and shooting at him.

He punched the firing button. Immediately, his plane was rocked as the rockets sped towards their target.

To his chagrin, most of the rockets missed. However, a couple of them caught the machine on it's "boiler" portion. The machine stumbled forward, falling on its "face" with smoke coming out of its back. When he passed over it, he could see two holes in the machine. One rocket had struck the "boiler" directly, ripping a large gap in the machine. The other had hit the top joint of the rearmost leg, severing it and sending it falling away from the metallic body it had been a part of. Another flyer unleashed a second barrage, more accurate this time as the enemy machine was now stationary. More explosions. One rocket went straight through the hole Wind's own missile had torn into the fighting machine. There was a loud explosion; the machine jerked, and then without warning it blew up in a flash of light that nearly blinded Wind.

"Aaaaargh!"

He pulled up of the joystick and blinked his eyes over and over. At first, all he could see was the detonation. Then, as seconds ticked on, he began to see more clearly.

"One fighting machine off the board entirely," one of his squadron-mates said, triumph in his voice. "That clown didn't know what hit him."

When his eyesight had sufficiently recovered, Wind looked around until he found the downed fighting machine... or rather, where it had been. Other than a few bits and pieces of metal scattered here and there, all that was left of the tripod was a glassy crater in the dirt. No mortal being, not even an Amari, could have survived that.

The moment of victory didn't last.

"I'm hit!" Sky Buster screamed. "I'm going down! Ejecting!"

Wind turned again. One of the squadron's planes had indeed been hit. It was smoking badly and falling groundward. Sky Buster jumped out of her doomed craft, her pegasus wings carrying her out. She didn't stay, but flew eastward again as fast as she could.

Wind couldn't blame her. A moment later, a second plane was hit; Its pilot must have been killed instantly, because it just nosed over, and the pilot made no effort to get out.

Meanwhile, explosions were dotting the landscape around the three surviving tripods. For the most part, they escaped being hit directly, but one was limping from a damaged leg; a third was smoking from a direct hit that hadn't been enough for a kill.

"Okay, time to leave," he ordered. "We've done what we-"

"More of them! It's the northern- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

Wind watched that plane get hit from a heat ray from un unexpected direction. The pilot ejected, but she had been set on fire by the heat ray, and she continued to scream as she fell from the sky, the flames consuming her.

He looked to the left. The northern group they had noticed earlier was now here... and in firing range.

"Get out! Go, go, g-"

A heat ray blasted its way through the front of his plane; the engine exploded, sending pieces of Wind's plane everywhere. By the time his plane hit the ground and disintegrated, Wind Runner was already dead.

Spike and the rest of the squadron continued moving ahead towards the battle site. It had now been several hours after disembarking from the train, and so far, there was little that had been said or done. Action was coming, but when?"

The receiver sparked into life. "This is Tenth Squadron here," a Manehattanite female voice said, sounding on the verge of panic. "We've lost twelve planes and their pilots. We have only eight aircraft left. Heading back to base!"

"Twelve?" Spike counted it up fast. Out of twenty planes that were part of the Tenth Aerial Squadron, only eight had survived.

"Any damage inflicted?" Lieutenant Azurite asked quickly.

"One tripod gone," the voice replied, slightly calmer. "Just went up like a ton of TNT. All that's left o' that one is a crater. Two others damaged, but then the northern group joined them. You'll still be facing eleven machines, M.A.R.S. Corps. We're outta here. Ten-eleven, out!"

At least one's gone. It was no surprise that a fighting machine could explode like that; weapons tests against captured machines after the War had proven that if a tripod's power coil was hit, the entire machine could detonate, vaporizing most of itself. If that had happened, that Amari pilot stood no chance of survival

So the score was one tripod obliterated, with two more suffering some damage, against twelve planes and their pilots lost. One Amari dead, possibly two injured, for twelve of Equestria's pilots.

He couldn't help but feel a sense of despair. He'd known intellectually that Equus' tech would still be behind that of the aliens; it had been repeated over and over again in training. And tests of Amari weapons had shown how powerful their weapons could be, as if the War itself hadn't provided plenty of examples of that. But he had hoped the global coalition's forces might achieve something near parity against the enemy from another planet. That wasn't proving to be true. He sent up a silent prayer for the skyborne warriors who had just died.

He then did his best to pull himself out of his depression. Planes lacked the armor necessary to withstand direct hits. Mechs could, or at least they could survive one hit. And they had fifty machines - improved designs over the original - against eleven of the enemy, with two of the eleven being easy targets. That would leave nine fighting machines in fully functioning condition, and whatever armor they had, it wouldn't be able to withstand the sheer number of heat rays the mechs could bring.

But we'll still likely lose most of-

No! Shut up! We'll beat them. At least, that's what he forced himself to think. His innermost self wasn't fully sure of that anymore, but he did his best to silence it.

Mudpudjaris was displeased. Clendargenkis had been young, but would likely have shaped up to have been a fine hivemate. Now it was dead, vaporized when its machine had erupted. And the machines of Prisgarjenkis and Comdarenkis had suffered damage; the former had taken a direct hit from an enemy projectile, and was fortunate it hadn't managed to penetrate the armor. The latter had suffered damage to its machine's leg, and would be hobbling around until it could get it repaired.

But there was no time to repair or finish the three incomplete machines now. Observation Satellite One had picked up a group of walking machines, clearly of prey design, marching straight for the landing site. There appeared to be around fifty or so of them. If that was true, then the Camnaris Hive was outnumbered badly, even with the new arrivals from the north and south.

However, there were other hivemates it could call upon.

"Call upon Cylinder 3-4," Mudpudjaris demanded of one of the new arrivals. "Ask them if their flying machines are completed."

There was a moment of silence, and then the other said, "Yes, Commander. They are ready to be deployed."

"Excellent. Order 3-4 to send its flying machines at once. We'll need their assistance to survive the coming battle."

Again, there was a pause, and then the hivemate replied, "They are on their way, Commander. They'll be here in half a tenthday."

"Good, but the enemy will be here much sooner than that. Contact Cylinder 3-5 and ask them about the conditions of the hivefort they are constructing."

Another pause. "Cylinder 3-5 reports that the construction of their hivefort is underway, although it is still in the foundational stages with none of its defensive heat rays set up."

"At least we will have a place to fall back to if the prey force us back. All units, form up in a line; we will face the enemy and await our air support. Do not fire until I give the order."

"Yes, Commander."

"Enemy forces, a couple miles ahead!"

Finally, as the sun, was beginning to go down, the M.A.R.S. Corps had found their enemy.

Spike could make out individual fighting machines, although not specific details, from this distance. But their shape was all-too familiar. Visions of cities and towns burning, of mass of fleeing soldiers and civilians being burned alive, of the Smoke smothering whole mobs...

He forced it down. Those things weren't going to happen this time around. Now the natives of Equus had weapons that could fight back; they weren't on a 1:1 basis with the enemy machines, but they were better than stationary artillery.

One of the fighting machines was lightly smoking. Good; flyboys have left that one an easy kill for us.

"This is Lieutenant Azurite!" the radio crackled. "Form two lines; one in front of the other, checkerboard pattern, with the rear machines able to fire through the gaps in the first line. And don't bunch up. If you get hit by a heat ray, it better be your business, not that of anyone else. We don't want them taking out two or three of us in one shot."

1st Squadron, M.A.R.S. Corps, formed up as its commander had ordered. Black smoke exuded from the exhaust pipes of the mechs as their pilots steered their machines into their two lines.

"Very good. We'll be advancing; the flanks are to overlap their lines and prevent the enemy from retreating. Begin shooting on my mark; if any of you start shooting too soon, I'll have the hide of whoever does. Those heat rays aren't as powerful as those of the enemy, and we need to conserve our energy. Begin advance."

The M.A.R.S. line began moving, its many pilots determined to stop the Amari from repeating their cruelties upon the inhabitants of their world.

Chapter 8

Mudpudjaris watched the enemy forces approach with apprehension. It was clear that however primitive they and their machines were, the prey were disciplined. Their intent was clear; most of their number would attack head on, but the remainder would outflank the line the People had set up. Once they did, they could rip apart the defending forces one by one.

The entire campaign plan had been made on the belief the prey had learned and adapted. That belief was much justified, as the local commander saw.

The odds, such as they were, weren't in the People's favor. Two of the available machines were damaged; Prisgarjenkis' machine would be slow, and that of Comdarenkis had compromised armor and could be killed more quickly. On top of that, those machines, as well as Mudpudjaris' own, lacked targeting modules that would have made hitting their targets much easier.

If only the prey had waited another tenthday to attack! Mudpudjaris inwardly moaned. We would be much better prepared.

At least four flying machines, all completed and quite deadly, were on the way. They would give the Camnaris Hive a better chance of victory, as none of the enemy machines seemed to have dedicated anti-air systems.

"Any machines with Black Dust launchers, fire them towards the central position of the enemy, Do not fire heat rays as of yet."

Four of its hivemates promptly raised their launchers, the others not possessing these weapons. Pods of the lethal material sped toward the enemy. Maybe it would kill some of them; maybe it would only momentarily blind them. But it was better than just letting the enemy just walk up and use whatever weapons they had on the People.

"Smoke canisters! Get your masks on!"

Even as the Lieutenant was speaking, the enemy projectiles landed, unleashing the Smoke. Spike quickly reached down, not daring to breathe, and quickly slipped his mask into place. Only then did he allow himself another breath.

"Do not turn or slow down! Keep moving and we'll be out of it faster!"

He was right; they couldn't stop here. Not if they wanted to survive the Smoke. Already, Spike could see black particles edging their way through whatever gaps they could.

He set his machine to move at its highest speed. The mech shuddered, but it did as he wanted it to. Fortunately, the area covered by the Smoke was quickly covered by the Equestrian machine; looking around, he could see the rest of the squadron continuing to advance, all except one mech that had crashed onto its front. He shuddered. Someone must have not put their mask on in time. There was always that one guy in every unit... Or perhaps it had been smacked directly in the face with a Smoke canister. Though unlikely, it wasn't impossible.

"Keep going! We're closing on them! We'll be in range to hit back in a minute or two!"

Spike hoped they'd last that long.

A disappointing result, Mudpudjaris thought, but not unexpected. The loss of just one of their adversaries wasn't going to halt them.

"Do any of you have the new weapons?" it asked.

"I do, Commander," one of its more recent subordinates replied. "But they will have to be closer, and by then..."

"Utilize it when they get in range of our heat rays, then use your own ray when you are out of spheres to throw."

"Affirmative."

It would not be long. In fact, the prey were almost... there.

"Attack."

"All mechs, fire!"

Spike took aim at the middle machine - the one still smoking - and pulled the trigger.

At the same time, the Amari raised their weapons and fired. Heat rays from both sides crisscrossed the battlefield.

In seconds, first blood went to M.A.R.S.; the previously damaged machine took multiple hits. Its armor was slagged, then melted, then it unceremoniously crumpled to the ground as a ray got through and roasted the pilot.

For a moment, cheering could faintly be heard from other mechs. But it didn't last long.

The Amari scored their first kills immediately afterwards, completely disregarding the fall of one of their own. Rays flashed over five mechs; their armor was pierced, and three of them exploded in balls of smoke and steam as their boilers blew. The other two fell, their legs were severed, the pilots alive for now.

One of the enemy machines threw something that resembled a green glass ball. It crashed between two mechs, unleashing clouds of green goo. Almost at once, holes began to appear in the mechs wherever the goo had landed on them; it burned through their armor, eating through it, as if the goo were a mass of termites chewing away wood at a super-fast speed. Those mechs staggered and fell, smoke and steam issuing out of them.

Spike shot at the machine that had done the throwing. He hit its frontal armor, which momentarily staggered it as it instinctively backed away. He wasn't the only one; about a dozen other mechs were firing on that enemy, some using their machine guns.

The tripod was been about to hurl another sphere when a bullet slammed into the projectile it was about to hurl. The sphere burst, and the alien machine staggered as its own acid began to eat away at it; it was hit by three heat rays in quick succession. It fell; the green spheres it had been carrying burst upon hitting the ground, doing to the Amari machine what they had done to the mechs.

"New weapon?"

"Some kind of fast-working acid..."

"Keep calm," Lieutenant Azurite commanded, cool as ever. "It's not unbeatable. And stop all aiming at the same ones; spread your fire out more evenly!"

The firing on the native side grew less concentrated, as the M.A.R.S. soldiers did as their commanding officer bade them. Another Amari machine went down, with another having its leg blown completely off by a fortunate shot, which sent it tumbling to the ground. In exchange, the aliens' fire claimed three more mechs, and heavily damaged others. Steam and smoke filled the air.

"Sea Bird, you're too far forward!" Azurite suddenly stated over the radio. "Get back in line, now!"

Spike noticed one machine - indeed belonging to Sea Bird, running (if it's gait could be called that) as it fired.

"Sea Bird, get your hindquarters back here or I'll fry you myself once this battle's over!"

"Go pound sand, Loot; I'm killing them all."

"Last chance, private. I'll court martial you otherwise."

A heat ray that passed by Spike's machine - missing by mere inches - brought him back to the battle. He forced himself to ignore the exchange as he fired again.

He could understand the hippogriff's anger and hatred. He felt it every time he was forced to relive the War in his mind; friends murdered, mass destruction, the finding of dying ponies and others in Amari prison pens waiting for death or to be eaten...

But, he reflected, as his heat ray helped to slice another tripod open, he wasn't going to join the rebellious private's action. He was going to stay with the team and use his weapons to dispense his revenge, as part of something bigger than just himself.

The fighting machine he'd been working on blew up in a blinding flash; the battery with all of the machine's energy must have been hit.

He rubbed his eyes, unable to fight until the whiteness in them faded.

As expected, Comdarenkis' fighting machine had been destroyed in the first moments of the battle. Another couple of unknown hivemates had gone down. Now Prisgarjenkis' machine blew up, staggering Mudpudjaris' own along with the one on the other side. Of the original four in Mudpudjaris' cylinder, only the commander himself remained.

A fifth machine, its pilot likely still staggered from the explosion, simply crumpled as enemy heat rays burned through its middle and slew the Person handling it. Of the eleven machines the People had started this fight with - twelve if one counted the enemy aerial attack as part of the same fight - only six were left. And over half the enemy were still up and fighting, with other, damaged machines occasionally trying to assist.

"Get me a direct connection with cylinder 3-4," Mudpudjaris commanded. "Route the communications through another machine if necessary."

Yes, Commander," came the reply of a hivemate. Seconds later, there was a beeping sound, indicating a connection.

"Cylinder 3-4, where are your flying machines? We are engaged in a battle with enemy forces and are in need of assistance!"

"Commander, they are will be there momentarily. Aerial Leader Jisparkengis can see the battle right now."

"Excellent. But tell him to go faster if at all possible. We're down to six fighting machines."

It cut the link. "We about to receive reinforcements. Keep the enemy occupied until they arrive."

Lieutenant Azurite seethed as Sea Bird continued to defy orders and charge the enemy. I'll literally burn his bacon when this is over," he thought to himself, feeling a sense of predatory joy at the contemplation.

But this fight was about much, much more than one wayward fool. He had to remember that.

A sixth Amari fighting machine keeled over on its right side - Azurite's left - as its leg on that side was melted off and the torso of the tripod sustained several direct hits.

About half of the 1st M.A.R.S. Squadron were still up and fighting. This was a tough fight, but it was shaping up to be a win, albeit a very costly one.

By now, machine gun fire was filling the air. While no one machine gun bullet was going to penetrate the alien tripods' armor, a few might make their way in through weak points and damage internal components, perhaps even kill or wound the pilot inside. Even those that didn't get through might distract the pilots with their rattling of the enemy machines.

Three more of his mechs went down; one exploded, another was hit directly in the cockpit and burned the pilot away, and the final one fell over backwards.

But as a seventh Amari machine crashed to the ground, he felt that predatory joy rise again. 1st M.A.R.S. was going to survive and win.

Suddenly, a wave of heat rays from the sky washed over the squadron. Two mechs blew up.

"What...?"

"Loot! Flying machines!"

He turned his gaze skyward and to the right. There they were, the flying machines that had just buzzed his unit. They had passed by very fast - hence most of them missing their targets - but they were wheeling around and slowing down. Their next pass would be much more effective.

"Spread out! Break formation!"

Some mechs were already doing so, their legs turning sideways in order to maintain their assault on the fighting machines. Others hadn't even known the Amari had received their aerial reinforcements.

"Look to the sky! Shoot down the flying machines that just arrived!"

About half the machines - more accurately, about half of those who weren't confused - turned their machine guns to try to knock out at least some of the flying machines.

The ground-bound tripods renewed their fire. More mechs exploded or collapsed as the fire directed at them slackened.

Machine guns chattered as the flying machines came again, this time head on. At the same time, the sixteen light heat rays on the flying machines fired. Mechs went up in flames, blew up, crashed, tipped over, or crumpled.

One of the flying machines burst into flames and screamed over the surviving mechs, crashing and blowing up somewhere behind them.

Azurite quickly counted those mechs still on their feet.

Fifteen. They were down to fifteen out of the original fifty mechs they'd had. Against four tripods and three flying machines. Even as he was trying to decide what to do, another mech went down.

We can't retreat; the enemy are too close, and those flying machines would tear us up even if we tried. And I don't think we can win. The grim reality set in.

"1st Squadron, make them pay."

Spike watched the M.A.R.S. Corps' chances of victory literally go up in smoke. Within a minute, the twenty-five surviving mechs had been reduced to fourteen. Despair fell upon him.

We're doomed.

An anger that can only be felt by those who know they're about to die set in. Yelling incomprehensively, he fired his weapons at an eighth Amari machine. His heat ray and machine guns struck the tripod as his despairing fury set in.

Smolder, Nickel, Sovereign, Green, even Sea Bird...

And Twilight... this is for you!

The Amari machine finally fell, its center burned out.

But now, there were few mechs left to take advantage of that small victory. And those left were being wiped out fast-

Suddenly Spike's mech fell to the ground, coming to rest on its side as the dragon controlling it lost that control. He felt stunned as the mech rolled to an abrupt halt. Spike felt the back of his head connect with something, and lost consciousness. The last thing he heard were the howls of the Amari machines, screeching in victory.

"UUUUUUULLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Mudpudjaris watched the last of the enemy machines fall. Despite its two remaining hivemates on the ground letting out deafening howls, it could feel no satisfaction. The loss of nine fighting machines out of twelve, along with a flying machine, had destroyed most of the Camnaris Hive's current fighting ability.

This is no victory. We were fortunate that Cylinder 3-4 was able to send reinforcements, or else we would all be dead.

That was a chilling thought. Although primitive, the prey's fighting machines had startled everyone by using heat rays, and they had nearly defeated an entire force of People. That was a marked difference between the previous invasion and the current one. It had known that setbacks had occurred already; destruction of a cylinder or two, a machine down here or there, but this? A real battle where the People nearly lost? Would have lost, if not for the sudden arrival of friendly flying machines? This so far had been unheard of.

"Commander, what are your orders?"

Mudpudjaris looked around. The battlefield was strewn with wreckage from the destroyed and damaged machines of both sides. One enemy machine had gotten quite close before it had had its legs burned out from under it.

"Destroy any enemy machines still showing any signs that their pilots are alive. Then withdraw, with as much material as we can carry, to the cylinder 3-5 hivefort. Do not forget the medications that will fight the microorganisms or the food we've brought from the Homeworld.

It used it's machine's tentacles to prevent the hivemate to it's left from firing.

"Not the one closest to us. Take the pilot prisoner; it will make a most rewarding meal later once we've studied it. And take it's machine so that we may observe it. We will melt it down for further materials later."

Chapter 9

Spike opened his eyes. His head felt heavy and painful as he tried to take stock of his situation.

It was dark. Night had fallen. It had been afternoon before...

How had he gotten here?

He began to remember; the battle. The orders from Lieutenant Azurite. The heat rays and machine gun fire. The collapse of fighting machines and mechs alike. A flying machine, speeding overhead like a burning comet. His machine's own fall.

He groaned, feeling the back of his head. It was going to be sore for a while.

He pulled levers, trying to make the mech move. There was some vibration and the clear indication of movement from outside, but nothing he tried could set the thing back upright.

He hit the button that opened the cockpit. The canopy moved upward, allowing Spike out of the machine prison he'd been confined to for the past few hours.

The Amari were gone; none of their machines were left anywhere he could see them. The moon shone brightly on a purgatory of dead machines... and people.

He began walking around. The mechs he walked by were stationary; some were still hot, mostly those that had blown up during the fight. None of them showed any signs of being inhabited by living soldiers.

At first he didn't recognize any of the pilots. Then he saw Green Grass, in her mech, her face forever frozen in a look of horror. A heat ray had cut her in half within her own machine; her death would have been quick, at least.

He registered other pilots as he walked. Antennae, a female changeling who had joined M.A.R.S. in it's fifth year of development, a kind though quiet soldier. Goldbrick, a male earth pony from a rich Manehattan family who had been disinherited when he left the family business to join M.A.R.S.; a decent, if lazy, guy. Cloudbank, a female pegasus who had surprisingly joined M.A.R.S. instead of the Aerial Corps. She had once helped him learn how to fix his first Mk. I mech when it initially broke down. High Chair, a male unicorn from the nobility who had had to learn that meritocracy, not family connections or noble status, was the way of the army. He'd been shaping up to be a great pilot, outgrowing his aristocratic background. Ardent Dreams, a male kirin who had desired to be one of his people's greatest artists and had often sold paintings he'd made during his spare time.

All dead.

It went on like that for some time. He felt dead himself, on the inside if not the outside. The entire squadron's death didn't leave him sad or angry. It felt like all emotion had been crunched out of him, and there was nothing left to do. He sat down on a rock. Somehow, it felt like everything that could have ever possibly happened had done so, and yet his mind didn't even bother registering it.

The sound of someone pushing or pulling something came from the left, somewhere in the midst of the field. The response was a loud groan of pain.

A flicker of emotion - a mix of joy tinged with sorrow - finally made its way through the numbness. "Who's there?" he called.

"Spike?" came a familiar voice.

"Smolder!" He ran towards where she had shouted his name.

Out from behind a ruined mech he found her. Smolder was tending to Lieutenant Azurite. The blue dragon who led 1st Squadron was badly injured. Blackened, burned pieces of his uniform had fused with his scales. The right side of his head was black, too; he must have been hit by a heat ray, but survived. A few dragons had survived the aliens' most well-known weapon, although never without wounds. The bandage over the Lieutenant's eye indicated that he'd probably lost it.

Sovereign Rights was on guard. The pistol he was armed with would do no good against the Amari if they came back, but it might scare off looters and scavengers. He relaxed as he saw Spike. Nickel was also there, going over wrecked machines, occasionally lifting out and setting down unbroken pieces of mechs.

"Spike, you're alive!" Nickel said, looking pleased.

"Feel like I'm not, though. How did you guys survive?"

"I got out of my mech when it was first damaged," Nickel replied. "Good thing, too. I nearly had my tail burned off when the boiler exploded. The Amari went around after the battle blasting mechs showing any signs of being even slightly functional."

"I managed to eject sideways when they melted the leg off mine," Sovereign said. "I was already in hiding when they came around."

"My mech got cut in two," Smolder answered, still trying to keep Azurite's right arm straight. "I had to flee it. Fortunately, none of us were there when the battle went sideways. Curse those flying machines," she continued, her voice rising in anger. "If they hadn't come, all this-" she held out a claw to encompass the wreckage around them - "might have been worth something. We're just fortunate they didn't use this win to advance on Equestria proper. Or anywhere else."

"Where did they go?" Spike asked, sitting down among them.

"Northwest," The she-dragon said, putting a thumb in that direction for a moment. "Probably got a base there, though I wouldn't know exactly where."

"What happened to the commander?"

"He got a direct hit just after ordering us to fight to the death. Nearly took his face off and the shrapnel from his own machine coming apart made mincemeat of his arm. He's lucky to be alive, Creator bless."

"Are we... all that's left?"

"I think so," Smolder said, sighing. "I saw Green. She was still alive after the battle, I think. An Amari machine used its heat ray to slice her in two, poor thing. I don't think anyone else survived. We're all that's left of First Squadron."

Spike finally felt the weight that had been hanging over him fall upon him. Rather, than let himself cry in front of everyone, he simply pulled his legs towards his head and let it fall between them.

"So, what do we do now?" he heard Sovereign ask.

"W... we... we need..." Azurite said, stammering with a weak, raspy voice.

"Commander, please," Smolder said, still trying to bandage him.

"We need... to get back... to headquarters. Warn them... of our failure... and the Amari..."

"We can do that, but we'll need transport. There's no way we'll get anywhere quickly without some."

"Which is why I'm scavenging parts," Nickel added. "If I can find enough working parts to make a full mech - preferably two - we might be able to leave and alert Colonel Javelin."

"Are there any villages out here?" Smolder asked.

"Not many," Sovereign replied. "Most of those who moved to the Undiscovered West did so to escape authority. There might be the occasional homestead, or settlements so small they wouldn't even count as villages, but nothing with the transport or communications that we need. Some folks out here probably never even heard of the Amari; that's how detached they'd be from the rest of society."

"Great. So we're stuck."

A shadow flew overhead. They all tensed up; Sovereign undrew his pistol.

"Do not fear," a strong voice said. A large stallion with bat-like wings emerged from behind a mech, along with six others of his tribe. "Lieutenant Night Glider, Princess Luna's 7th Thestral Guards. Colonel Javelin sent us here to bring him news about the battle."

"Do you have transport?"

"Not of the chariot or wagon type, no. But we can carry you on our backs until we reach the Colonel."

Colonel Javelin watched as the last of the upper portions of the bridge struts that had damaged the tanks fell into the water. It wasn't legal for him to destroy private property like that, but the bridge had screwed the tanks over big time, so he couldn't have cared less. The bridge owner could fine him - and get fined by the government for not expanding his bridge to the necessary standards - after the war. He needed his tanks across now.

Finally, the tanks were able to cross. Sadly, the few hours it had taken to correct the issue with the bridge had left little time to fix the damages to each individual tank. Some still had parts missing or damaged. A good portion of the Fifth Armored Brigade would be riding into battle on injured steeds.

A few hours later, the train finally reached the place to disembark.

Colonel Javelin was overseeing the unloading - dark as it was - when a thestral appeared as if out of nowhere. "Colonel," the midnight blue stallion began, without waiting to be addressed, "the survivors of the First Squadron are on their way back here."

The colonel's eyes narrowed slightly. "How many?"

"Five. Two ponies and three dragons. The rest of the squadron was wiped out."

"What about the Amari?"

"The survivors said they retreated after murdering as many of the downed soldiers as they could find. Somewhere to the northwest. We saw none on their way there, and I've seen none on my way back."

Javelin sighed. "That's good news. But an entire squadron of fifty wiped out? How did that happen?"

"Just as the surviving mechs were about to crush the Amari, four flying machines caught them off guard. In total, only three of the twelve Amari survived, and I saw one flying machine that had crashed."

Javelin took off his hat, sat down, and stared at the ground.

"Sir, they hurt the enemy badly, and we expected our earliest machines to perform less well than those of the enemy."

"That might be true," the Colonel replied. "But I chose to send them into combat alone and unsupported. Instead of waiting until we had all of our forces fighting together, I had them push on into that disaster. I didn't think the enemy would have reinforcements." He sighed again. "I need to tell high command of these foul-ups."

As telegraph machines and radio operators worked, Princess Luna and Prince Shining Armor awaited reports of the ongoing battles. It had been a busy day, but the most important fronts on the continent were in the Undiscovered West and in Yakyakistan. By now it was clear that the Yak 3rd Army had engaged the enemy, though details were long in coming.

Most of the enemy who had landed the previous day had awakened by now, and for the most part unharmed by defending forces. Flying machines were roaming free in the Bone Dry Desert, cutting the railroad to Klugetown, and obliterating lonely homesteads and small villages. Klugetown itself had been raided by flying machines, though the attackers hadn't pressed their advantage. A couple of flying machines had gone down, for the cost of three gun positions destroyed and others losing crew members to Smoke attacks. Several civilian airships had been burned out of the sky; anyone without wings died after a long fall, and the Amari machines killed most of those who could fly, with only a small number managing to escape. To the northeast, the enemy had destroyed the railroads around Rainbow Falls, before destroying the town itself. There, they had chosen to halt after a short engagement with a division of regulars that had been hastily moved north.

"Telegram from Yakyakistan," a stallion called, waving a translated paper.

Luna took it in her magical grasp and read it. "Force of four Amari machines engaged. Yaks destroyed two, aerial forces wiped out others. Three-fourths of Yak 3rd Army killed. Two aircraft lost. Reconnaissance shows enemy building fortress further north. Unlikely we will be able to engage it before enemy build defenses."

Shining sighed in relief. "At least those monsters were stopped."

"At the cost of the equivalent of several divisions of yak warriors slain, and the rest requiring rest and refit. I doubt the survivors will be eager to engage enemy forces again for a long time."

"I know."

"I'm aware you were worried about Cadence and your daughter, Shining Armor, but we must focus on saving as many as we can from the invasion, not just our loved ones. And at great cost, the alliance has won its first battle as opposed to a skirmish. We can beat them this time around. Keep your mind focused on the fronts we're fighting on."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Luna allowed herself to laugh. "I'm technically your equal, Shining. No need for that level of formalities."

Before Shining could respond, one of the radio operators shouted, "Fifth Armored Brigade, asking for the Field Marshal."

"I'm here," the white unicorn answered, walking over. "Who is this?" he demanded, speaking into the radio.

"Colonel Javelin, currently commanding officer of the Fifth Armored Brigade." The Colonel's voice was full of regret. "I must report the destruction of the 1st M.A.R.S. Squadron in battle with the enemy, along with the loss of over half the 10th Aerial Squadron."

Luna allowed herself a silent gasp. Shining forced himself to sound calm; "What happened?"

"The Tenth attacked four enemy machines. One was destroyed, two were damaged, but eight other fighting machines reinforced them, killing most of the squadron. The 1st M.A.R.S. attacked afterward, killing eight of the enemy, but flying machines caught them by surprise, destroying all the mechs that survived up until then. The Amari then killed any living pilots they could find before withdrawing to the northwest."

"Why didn't you attack with the Fifth Armored?"

"Because some worthless idiot failed to make a bridge wide enough for the tanks to be transported across. We were going full speed, many tanks were damaged. I didn't know the enemy had flying machines as reinforcements. I wanted to hit the enemy before they were ready, and if we waited, not only would they be ready, but they might have moved on, and we'd waste more time repositioning, which might have let them advance into Equestria proper." Javelin loudly sighed. "I must ask that I be removed from command. If I had waited, we could have won with fewer losses."

"I'm not removing you from command. You're not responsible for that bridge. And you were trying to protect Equestria. Even in defeat you succeeded, because the enemy withdrew afterwards." Shining sighed. "Any survivors?"

"A few. Private Spike, Private Smolder, Private Nickel, Private Sovereign Rights, and Lieutenant Azurite, the 1st's commander."

It was now Luna's turn to sigh in relief, albeit subdued in the knowledge that so many soldiers were gone.

"Anyone else?"

"No. The rest are dead, sir." Javelin waited a moment, as if he was waiting for a response. When he gone none, he asked, "Orders, Field Marshal?"

"Hold your position. We'll send reinforcements from the regulars and from 2nd M.A.R.S. When you do, try to advance on known enemy positions before they get reinforced."

"That'll be a long, slow process, sir. We have no railroads, no infrastructure, out in the Undiscovered West, just some trails made by money-grubbing tax evaders in places you can't even call villages."

"Even so, advance as far as possible. We'll keep you supplied by airships. Build as many airstrips as you can; I intend to reinforce the Tenth Aerial back up to optimal strength and throw in more aerial units."

"Understood. We'll go as far as we can. Please send AA guns, though; the 1st M.A.R.S. was destroyed when the enemy sent their flying machines in."

"I'll do that. Out."

"It could have been worse, I suppose," Luna murmured.

"I had hoped the mechs could do better," Shining admitted, "but I guess I overestimated how overpowered the Amari machines are. The only real good news, other than the hoofful of survivors, is the fact the enemy withdrew afterwards."

"And we should call that a victory, Shining? Our mechs were utterly destroyed."

"Yes, but compared to what the yaks lost... Princess, do you know how many soldiers comprise a division?"

"Some 10-12,000, right?"

"Yes. The yaks lost maybe 8-9,000 warriors per division to take down just four fighting machines that had no support; they'll be a long time replacing those losses, and the enemy still has considerable strength in that region. Even with unexpected enemy reinforcements, 1st M.A.R.S. killed nine out of twelve fighting machines and one of the four flying machines. The Amari there likely suffered losses that will hurt their campaign plans down there for the rest of the war. Even with more reinforcements and supplies from Amari itself incoming, that's a significant improvement; I'm much more worried about the Yak front than the Undiscovered West. We'll need to reinforce our allies in the north much more than our own forces in the west."

Luna raised an eyebrow slightly. "Are you that certain?"

"Yes. We have more mechs coming off the assembly line, as well as newer ones. I think we need to send some to back up the yaks, but we can send some to the western front and take back ground there."

"Not that it was officially 'ours' in the first place, but I see the potential. Eliminating the Undiscovered West as a front will free up our armies for other fronts. Creator above knows we'll need them; the Amari are massing in the Pine Needle Woods, Slug Troll Swamp, and Bone Dry Desert."

Shining nodded grimly. "It's a good thing the enemy don't have naval technology. The former realm of the Storm King saw a bunch of cylinders fall there. From what little news we have, mostly from the hippogriffs, the situation is dire."

"I expect that large island - or small continent - to fall easily," Luna agreed with the utmost reluctance. "The best we can do is offer shelter to those who manage to escape. That place will likely be one of the last locations we retake from the Amari."

She walked over to a map of the Equestrian continent. "I am most worried that the aliens will march through the Farthest Reaches and Arimaspi Territory and strike there instead of bashing their considerable brains against our Macintosh Hills defenses. The pass is easily defended, and the enemy must know that at least as well as we do."

"We should be able to keep them from coming out of Changeling territory and hitting Dodge city at least. Our defenses there are strong too. But the enemy are going to try flanking them from the Hayseed Swamps, or drive right on to Baltimare, Fillydelphia, and Manehattan. If we lose those cities..."

"A disaster we'll do our best to prevent," the Lunar Princess replied. "We already have rings of defensive trenches dug, with heavy guns already installed, around those cities. What we need to worry about - everywhere - are free-roving groups of fighting machines; if they can create terror behind our lines and destroy our infrastructure, our chances of a successful defense will be dim. Not to mention all the towns and villages that will be demanding protection and that will curse us to high heaven if and when we say no."

"We have aerial units and pegasi in harnesses to counter them," Shining answered. "But we'll need to keep our attention on the enemy, and where they'll continue to land in the next several days."

"Indeed. Do you think they'll continue landing in locations where they've already landed, or will they land behind our lines somewhere?"

It was a good question. Shining continued to look at the map as Luna waited.

"I can't say for certain. I can only guess."

"Then please guess."

"I think most of them will continue to land in locations they've more or less secured, or in locations they believed they would have secured by now. But I don't think we can completely discount the idea that, in the last couple days of the ten-day landings, that they might land in areas that have been depleted of defenders."

"Should we keep most of our armies in reserve then?"

"For the most part, yes. Just until we know for sure. But we can deploy some of them where we know the enemy are at their most menacing."

"What about the desert?"

"I think it's a lost cause. Other than Klugetown and some nomadic peoples down there, there's not much to defend. The enemy has landed there en masse, and I don't think we'll be able to defend the Farthest Reaches from an enemy attack. Better to evacuate it while we can."

"And Klugetown?"

Shining let out something between a sigh and a huff. "Personally, I don't believe they'll be able to hold out indefinitely. They might be able to inflict some losses - they already have, in fact - but they'll collapse. Their leaders are money-grubbers, to use Colonel Javelin's phrase, and they'll be the first to leave the city. I think some might have already done so; they're interested in money, not people, and don't care about the inhabitants, only their own wealth and power. I doubt morale will be high for their defenders, either. Once the Amari break their defenses in one place or another, they'll most likely run for whatever places of sanctuary they can find. The aliens will probably suffer heavy losses, but with the current leadership it won't last long. Even if what I said about leadership and morale wasn't true, they'll be surrounded and the railroad from there cut off. The Amari will regret the losses it will take to conquer the city, but they will conquer it."

"Can't it be resupplied by airship or by teleporting supplies there?"

"No. The airships will be shot down by heat rays before they can get in or out once the city is surrounded, and teleporting that many supplies is difficult. Teleporting the same amount of stuff gets harder the amount of distance one has to 'travel.' Teleporting things a mile away is doable. Teleporting them a couple hundred to a couple thousand miles... no, Princess, no, its just not possible to keep the city supplied."

"A pity. A great loss to those living there, and, as much as I hate profiting, even incidentally, off the backs of others, they would distract a great number of Amari from attacking us."

"They'll be able to do so for a while. I didn't say they'd immediately collapse. If I had to guess again, they might hold out for two months, maybe four if we're fortunate, though I won't be counting on it. But Klugetown's immense size and population is a big drawback in a siege; it relies on imports of food, and without those they'll be starving before long. That'll hurt them worse than a direct attack over time, though I don't think the Amari will wait long enough for them to all die of hunger."

"Can we send supplies immediately?"

"I think we can, but we need to be careful not to cut our own logistics to the bone to do so."

"Then I'll discuss the issue with my sister, and if she agrees - and she will - I'll give the order to send what food, weapons, and munitions that we can afford."

"As you wish, Princess."

Luna watched as ponies shifted models on the map to match known allied and enemy positions.

"I just hope none of this is in vain."

Author's Note

Come on comments, don't be shy! I know you're out there!