War of the Worlds; 2nd Wave

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.