Ghost Recon: Phantom Hunt

Chapters

0. Prologue
1. Bermuda Blues
2. Things That Go Bump in the Night
3. Learning Experience
4. Operation Dream Knife
5. Credible Threat
6. Third Party
7. Dreams
Under Cover of Darkness
Sun Streak
Damnatio Memoriae

0. Prologue

Author's Note

For those of you worried by the presence of an alicorn OC, she doesn't appear often, certainly not in the first few chapters. Even then, she's been carefully planned to be a non-Sue. As for why I chose her name, The Roman version of Eos would be "Aurora", which sounds wrong, and in any case raising the sun isn't her schtick. It also creates a linguistic progression (Greek>Latin>Italian) for the alicorns.Many of the traits associated with Athena also fit what I want to do with her character.

0. Prologue

Unknown Location
Dawn
Saturday, May 1, 300 CE

It was raining. It rained so often in southern Eosia that to try and measure the annual rainfall with any precision felt akin to measuring the seas in pints. Twice a week it would rain all day and night, and sometimes it would rain even more than that. But the rainbows that followed could drop one’s jaw. The lush flora and plentiful wildlife thrived because of the weather, and the days without rain were truly gorgeous.

Athena persevered through the torrent, her modest blue and tan cloak concealing most of her body. Her hood covered all of her head and mane, save for a hole specifically for her horn. She levitated a map from one of her pockets and gazed at it. She was a mere mile away from her goal, and so she marched on.

This was her chance to reunite her family, or at least what was left of it. A tragic accident three hundred years prior - a collapsing temple to be specific - had robbed her and her two sisters of their parents’ lives. After that, she’d had a falling out with the middle sister regarding their parents’ will.

There were three continents and three Princesses, groomed by their parents to each rule one. While the King and Queen had ruled all three together as one peaceful and prosperous entity, with their deaths the lands fell apart. The three sisters had been reduced to ruling a single nation on one continent.

Celestia, had insisted that only through creating a single prosperous nation could they begin to rebuild part of the Dominion. They would use diplomacy, compassionate expansionism and economics to slowly reunite the Helian continent as much as they could. With their near-infinite lifespans, they could eventually rebuild the continent’s former glory. And they would go no further.

Luna, ever attached to her elder, supported her goals wholeheartedly. In a mixture of love, respect, and borderline sycophancy, she became the second-in-command in achieving her sister’s objectives.

But at the time, Athena was much more modest in her goals, believing that Equestria was the only place they should rule. It was also the only place that would accept them as rulers as things were, being populated primarily by ponies. Crushed by her parents’ death, and seeing the dysfunctional storm of xenophobia, racism and conflict the world had fallen into, she thought that their best option was to turn Equestria into a beacon of light in a dark world.

Her pessimism and opposition to Princess Celestia’s expansionism earned her steadily more ire until the two clashed horns over the annexation of a then-small city-state called Trottingham. After the brief scuffle, Celestia and Luna exiled their sister to the continent she had been intended to rule, the northwestern continent of Eosia. They both regretted the fight on some level, but their grudges kept them from reconciling, and Athena had been the physical aggressor.

After her exile, she continued to correspond with the guilt-stricken Luna in secret, and became the mare’s sole confidant. Over a decade, the she watched from afar as the youngest was consumed by envy, anger, impatience and wrath. A month after her last letter, one final letter from Celestia ruefully informed her of her sister’s transformation into Nightmare Moon and subsequent banishment.

Now, the exile quested to reunite the trio and end her sister’s solitude. For over a century, she had scoured the lands for knowledge and magical artifacts. Her goal was to free her baby sister from the clutches of Nightmare Moon and return her to Equis. And at long last she had found a way. A way for the three sisters to be together again, to be happy again.

The temple Athena strove to reach was her answer. From the magic-focusing structure, she could teleport herself to the Moon and bring back her sister, and use a series of artifacts to cleanse her of the foul influence.

After half an hour of trudging through the rain, she was within sight of the ancient structure. The temple was a ziggurat, a hundred and fifty yards in length and breadth, and a hundred yards high.

She broke into a full gallop, heading straight for the door. As soon as she made it inside, she stopped and threw off her cloak.

Her coat was a soft silver, her eyes blue as sapphires, and her mane an ebony mass that flowed without wind. Her cutie mark was a golden shield with streaks of white emanating from it. Her tiara, shoes and necklace were likewise of enchanted gold and had inset sapphires, though the headpiece had been taken from her when her title as Princess had been stripped; the necklace and shoes remained with her.

She tucked her cloak into a magical pocket, a trick she’d devised that enabled her to store large quantities of items without physically carrying anything. After a nervous sigh, she headed to the heart of the temple. At the center of the first floor were a pair of staircases leading to a second floor directly above. Ascending the steps, she saw a lever embedded in the floor at the room’s center.

Athena approached the lever and paused for a moment. Once she pulled this lever, the room would seal shut for several hours, the runes magnifying her already massive magic abilities and effectively forming a magic tether from her to the room until she returned. In a chamber downstairs, she would find the artifacts needed to end her sister’s century-long imprisonment in her own body.

The lever tilted as the pearlescent aura of her magic surrounded it. Stone scraped against stone and the chamber sealed itself. The runes on the walls began to glow with an aura matching her own, the intensity of their light increasing rapidly.

A thunderclap seemed to ring in the chamber, and lightning shot to the heavens from the apex of the ziggurat.

The goddess opened her eyes to find herself in the heavens. She hadn’t put enough power into the temple, failing what was her only chance to save her sister. She looked at the moon and shed tears for Luna.

Then she looked at Equis. After seeing maps and globes of it so often, she’d become so accustomed to seeing borders, boundaries and geopolitical machinations with every scrap of parchment and every representation of the known world.

But what she saw, or rather didn’t see, was what changed her perception of everything.

1. Bermuda Blues

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

2. Things That Go Bump in the Night

Canterlot Castle
22:00
October 11, 1196 CE
Nightmare Night

Celestia gazed at the moon. It was the 996th anniversary of her sister’s banishment. For most ponies it was Nightmare Night, a night of scares, celebration, and candy for citizens of Equestria. But for her it was a night of guilt.

Of course, no amount of introspection and regret could fix her mistakes, but one didn’t simply rationalize away such powerful feelings as she would feel every year on that night.

If she could have only seen the signs of her sister’s withdrawal, been there for her instead of neglecting her, she wouldn’t have been alone for almost a millennium. A part of her secretly anticipated the return of Nightmare Moon, wanting to apologize to her sister and sway her back to good. But unless the Elements of Harmony could be found in the next six years, there was no realistic hope to restore Princess Luna.

And though her subjects treated her with enormous reverence, they saw her as a symbol rather than a pony. Very few cared to associate with her on anything more than a formal basis.

Her niece, Princess Cadance, came from an estranged sister, but at least she would be able to associate with her. Because Cadance had found a seemingly impossible middle ground between the loneliness of Princesshood and the freedom of mortality, she was a link to the rest of the world. And she’d found somepony of her own too, a not-so-secret crush only Celestia’s own faithful student and the subject of the crush were oblivious to.

If only she were so lucky.

She closed her eyes and sighed. Opening them a few moments later, she noticed a quartet of objects flying through the night sky. She could faintly hear their drone from her balcony and her curiosity was piqued. She openeda nearby cabinet and retrieved a telescope.

The Princess extended the optic and shut one eye to gaze through it. Four strange creatures were exiting a cloud, ones she couldn’t even begin to recognize, though she sifted through her centuries of memories in an attempt to identify them. She realized that if they flew too close to the city proper they would pose a potential danger to her subjects, especially when that threat might not be taken seriously on this particular night, or conversely cause a panic by virtue of their exotic nature. Her course of action was clear.

She focused her magic on the beasts and brought them steadily down to a rarely-used section of the vast garden, a golden aura surrounding each one. As she gripped them she could sense there was scarcely any identifiable magic in these creatures. The only magic present was her own and a strange energy she was vaguely familiar with, though she couldn’t place how she knew it. Everything on Equis possessed some sort of intrinsic magical signature, so to find creatures made entirely of such non-conductive material was exciting. After some firm resistance the entities touched down gently, and their peculiar wings slowed and stopped.

The prompt development put her into a contradictory mood. On one hoof, she would need to prepare a team of Royal Guards as a contingency. On the other, her student could stand to learn something from the study of these creatures. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise her if Twilight Sparkle knew something of these creatures she didn’t, given the exorbitant amount of time she spent engrossed in books.

Princess Celestia cantered inside, and upon seeing a Royal Guard she immediately ordered him to assemble a team for the purpose of subduing beasts, with the most senior officer available in charge. He was also to fetch Twilight, who would be studying history in the library at that time of night.

In minutes, a team had assembled, with Lieutenant Shining Armor leading it. Princess Cadance had accompanied the young stallion without being asked any questions, in one of the few examples her elder had seen of the mare using her stature to her advantage. And of course, her protégé was eager to see what was important enough to pull her away from her studies.

***

“Captain! Captain! Are you alright?”

"I'm fine."

Scott Mitchell opened his shook his head and blinked to clear something from his eye. The back of his head hurt somewhat, but his helmet had taken the brunt of the impact. He'd learned to block out most pain over the years, at least the pain that didn't come from major injuries he could, so he forced that headache out of his mind for the time being.

“We hit some turbulence while you were asleep” Joe Ramirez told him. “So did the other aircraft, but they're okay. You feeling okay?”

He nodded, and noticed that the hold was mostly quiet, and there was no sense of motion. “Yeah, just shaken up. Why aren’t we airborne?”

“Remember how Nolan and I were kiddin’ around about the Bermuda Triangle? I think we might’ve tempted fate there. Right after that turbulence, the sky cleared up, and it was land for miles all around. We couldn’t get in touch with any satellites. And then some weird golden energy field grabbed our birds and pulled them down to the ground.”

Mitchell got to his feet and put on his helmet. “So we’re on our own?”

“Well, just this Osprey, the other one, and the two Black Hawks that came with us. Probably 20,000 rounds of ammunition in this bird alone, we’ve got those new hydrogen engines that’ll let us turn water into fuel, and the magic DARPA batteries our stuff runs on. Plus, the Black Hawks have stub wings to mount weapons on, so they could be gunships if we needed them to be.”

“On our own, but well-equipped. Everybody in one piece?”

“Yeah, boss. We’re all good,” Sergeant Marcus Brown chimed in. “No injuries, ‘cept for a few scrapes and scratches. We got set down in courtyard near a damned castle. I saw a lot of castles growing up with rich parents, and this one doesn’t look like any I know.”

“Here’s the kicker,” Alex Nolan said as he stretched his back by twisting. “Stars don’t look like anything in the northern hemisphere at least. And the moon? The man on the moon looks more like a unicorn now. All those times on I joked that I was fed up with the world, and the universe takes finally calls me out on it and drags my team along.”

“Right, sure… Either way, Rainbow will pick up for us back home, so at least there’s no rush.” He sighed and switched to a more command-oriented mindset. “Nolan, I want you, Diaz, Reeves and Rosen to help set up a camp here, around the landing site, check for any injuries that weren’t apparent.”

Mitchell then activated his Crosscom, which still worked and connected him to his teammates. “Ramirez, Beasley, Brown. Meet me outside. Masks and monocles on, I want us to have as much situational awareness as we can, because we’re gonna recon that castle. I want everybody patched into our audio-video feed and listening in.”

Mitchell exited the bird, and Brown followed after putting on his CrossCom monocle and covering his face with a monotone gray bandanna, which had the “teeth” of the signature Ghost skull on it. Ramirez put his mask on and strapped on his helmet before heading out. Beasley approached from a separate Black Hawk and put on his monocle and balaclava too, then chambered a round for his M8.

“All right.”

They were in an unknown location, maybe even an unknown planet if Nolan was right, so they’d take any psychological advantage available to them if they were in a seemingly civilized area. Being faceless entities with ominous blue eyes was intimidating, and that seemed like a decent psychological warfare strategy to them.

Of course, it was out of practicality too, since the Crosscom monocles did increase situational awareness. That, and it was dark, which would make the Crosscom's relatively short-range Forward-Looking Infrared "detection" function more useful during any potential combat scenario. The cold also made the masks practical.

They were in the middle of a garden of some kind that matched the one at Versailles for its magnificence. The plants and animals that were present seemed to be identical to ones on Earth. Over his radio he could hear chatter from his allies noting the same thing, and an explanation from Nolan on why the food should be perfectly edible to them even if they were on a new world. He was really having a nerdgasm.

“The stars are all wrong, this can’t be Earth…”

“Sir, permission to say ‘I tol’-” Nolan tried to say before he was cut off.

“Denied.”

“Boss, unicorns from the southeast,” Ramirez deadpanned. Realizing what he’d just said, he blinked. “Oh my God. Please tell me I’m not losing it.”

“Not unless we’re seeing the same thing, Joe…” Mitchell replied, the disbelief in his tone just barely audible to them.

“Oh, and here I was about to start singing ‘I’m Going Slightly Mad’. Almost a letdown.” His voice betrayed that he was nervous.

***

“Is it a pop quiz?” Twilight asked her mentor excitedly, perking her head up as she spoke.

“No,” Princess Celestia responded. “Something more important than that.”

“Ummm, a surprise test? I mean, tests are more important than quizzes, so-”

“No. It’s not schoolwork of any sort,” She chuckled.

The Princess breathed as she prepared to explain the situation.

“Everypony,” She began. “Four unknown beings flew over Canterlot tonight, not ten minutes ago. I brought them down into the garden to prevent them from potentially doing any harm to our citizens, but I don’t know what they are, or if they’re dangerous. That’s why I asked all of you here. I want to be ready for whatever happens and to be able to identify them if possible,” The regent said to the group.

“Guards, form two lines abreast in front of the civilians,” Shining Armor barked. The ivory-coated stallions trotted to the front of the others and formed two rows in front of Twilight and the royalty, who in turn prepared to use their own magic if need be.

The group proceeded into the lush grass of the famous Canterlot Garden, where some sort of bipedal creatures seemed to be exiting the beings from earlier.

“Semi-circle, forward curve, large spacing,” Shining ordered. The guards changed to a bowl-like formation that curved away from the castle and surrounded the creatures. “You’re surrounded, and facing superior magic and training!” He boomed at them.

The creatures looked around almost as if they were confused by the display of force.

“Twilight, do you have any idea what these things are?” Princess Celestia asked.

“There’s something familiar about them. I don’t know why, but I get the feeling I recognize these things somehow.” She lowered her ears in frustration as she facehoofed repeatedly. Her mentor seized the offending hoof with her magic and placed it on the ground. As bright as the young mare was, she possessed many self-destructive habits.

Princess Celestia beckoned for a few guards to move aside, and she proceeded towards the creatures. She was ready to use her magic at a moment’s notice if it came to that, but she wanted to avoid conflict if possible. Whether these things were sapient or simply animals, violence was not her preferred means of solving problems.

To be fair, many ponies would panic at the sight of these otherworldly beings. However, the Princesses were confident in themselves and their guards, the guards were experienced in dealing with hostile creatures, and Twilight was simply too curious to be more than slightly afraid.

One of the things approached her, followed by three others. Each of them had a blue eye that glowed just ever so faintly in Celestia’s razor-sharp vision, and a mottled gray coat. As they approached her, she realized that it was clothing of some sort, a uniform composed of several shades of gray, olive and tan; clothes meant intelligence. What they carried was a mystery to her, and they proceeded with caution likely stemming from the presence of so many armed guards.

When the leading one came within seven yards of her, it held up a fist and the group stopped. The leader stood up to its full height, which was a bit more than her own. On its left shoulder was a patch with a highly stylized primate skull.

“Looks like we really are in a fantasy land,” It said to the others in a deep, somewhat raspy, masculine voice. “Well, actually a fantasy world.” It sighed, frustration apparent from its tone.

“They’re intelligent and speak our language,” Shining Armor muttered to his troop. “As per royal protocol, you will kneel before the Princesses!”

The Guards pointed their spears at the newcomers, who stepped back, but otherwise seemed unimpressed. The princesses were likewise unfazed at not being knelt before. It was an antiquated custom that was clung mostly by nobles.

“Pardon my interruption, but would you mind telling me who and what you are?” Princess Celestia spoke, being a bit blunt since they were ignoring her.

With any luck, we can speak to them.

The thing muttered something about “first contact”, then sighed before responding.

“I’m… A human male. And if I remember my fairy tales correctly you’re an alicorn, and these other… Equines, they’re unicorns… Ma’am, does this happen to be as strange to you as it is to us?”

“If you mean speaking to a mythological creature, the feeling is mutual," the Princess remarked. "If this isn’t your world, which your 'fantasy world' comment suggested, then do you know how you got here?”

The leader hesitated slightly. “My team and I were travelling through a region a lot of people associate with mysterious disappearances. There’s not much scientific basis to the myths about the place, and most travel through it is fine. We were passing through in service of our government.”

“So you’re… Diplomats?”

He paused. “Yeah, of a sort… So in the interest of friendly relations, I’d really appreciate if you had those guards of yours stop pointing their weapons at us.”

“Guards, do as he says,” Princess Celestia said calmly. They hesitantly pointed the tips to the sky and continued to eye the humans warily.

Twilight walked over to them ever so slowly, her nervous excitement shifed to wonder almost immediately. This time it was her brother that used his magic to prevent any potential harm. He levitated her back to him and gave her a quick glare.

“How’d you do that?” One of the other humans asked. This one had a dark green helm atop his head.

“Magic. Telekinesis actually, literally the most basic form there is.”

"Tell me you're joking."

"No. Is it really that unbelievable?"

"In a word? Yeah," The one with the green headwear interjected.

“Look, we’re a bit tired from our travel, and we need a place to stay until we can figure out a way home. If you could at least let us stay in these gardens until then, we’d appreciate it,” Their leader requested.

“Canterlot Castle has enough amenities for the four of you.”

“There’s nine of us, as well as a few dozen… Assistants and transportation specialists,” He corrected her. “We came prepared with tents and basic amenities. We weren’t travelling to a particularly civilized area. You could say my team specializes in politically-sensitive and dangerous areas. We’d rather stay out here, where we can get to our equipment and transportation faster.”

Princess Celestia contemplated whether there were any guest chambers suitably close to the garden. As a matter of fact, there were, all of them within a few dozen yards of a passage straight to this section of the garden. Quick access would be easy for them there.

She informed the leader of this, and they discussed their basic necessities and living conditions. They would rotate who was staying in the castle, and keep some of their number with their peculiar steeds to tend to them and their belongings. They would assign rooms and rotations in the morning. The part of the castle they'd spend most of their time in was almost never used, and closed off to guests. Even if others visited her castle, they would almost certainly never run into the humans or find their group.

After an hour of these negotiations, she invited the four humans into the castle. They hesitantly agreed, and the leader whispered something she couldn’t make out, prompting more humans to emerge from the creatures she’d plucked from the sky. The guards were uneasy at their appearance, but stayed their weapons on her orders.

Inside the castle, the humans marveled at the art that lined the walls. They slung the strange implements they carried over their backs, though their hands tended to drift to sheathes of some type located on their thighs occasionally.

“We were about to have dinner, actually. Care to join us?”

He glanced at the three who followed him before answering, probably to gauge their enthusiasm for sharing a meal. “I suppose we could.”

With the other ponies accompanying them, they headed to the dining room, where the two Princesses, the officer and the student took their seats. The humans were forced to kneel on the pillows the ponies used in lieu of chairs.

I’m glad these humans came. I hate the melancholy that always seems to catch me on Nightmare Night, and this is a great way to break from that emotional prison.

A bell rang, and servants paraded in bearing platters of fruits and vegetables, as well as other non-carnivorous fare. They paid the humans no heed, accustomed to serving foreign dignitaries. Just as quickly as they’d entered, they shuffled back out.

The humans pulled their pale masks down to expose their faces down to the mouth. They seemed to have three different colors of skin. Two were fair, another light tan, and a fourth had dark brown skin. They gingerly took their first bites, displaying that same peculiar caution Princess Celestia was already beginning to associate with their kind.

After the first few bites, they began to eat normally. With them being a new race unknown outside of obscure Equestrian mythology, the regent took this chance to observe them subtly. Twilight seemed to be on the same page, although she omitted the “subtle” part, never looking away from the guests for more than a moment. The leader muttered something indistinct, with the phrase “You can cut your links to my feed” just barely audible.

“Is there a reason the purple unicorn is staring at us?” Their leader asked.

“Her name is Twilight Sparkle, she’s my personal student,” The alabaster alicorn answered. “She’s merely curious.”

The mare in question blushed in embarrassment and looked away in reaction to the attention she was being given.

“I’m sorry,” She muttered.

“It’s fine,” He responded.

“It’s just occurred to me that we haven’t been properly introduced yet. I am Princess Celestia, ruler of the nation of Equestria. The stallion to my right is Lieutenant Shining Armor, an officer in our Royal Guard. The mare to my left is Princess Cadance. Twilight has already been introduced.”

“Scott Mitchell,” The leader stated.

“Marcus Brown,” The dark-skinned man said.

“Matt Beasley,” The other fair one stated.

“Joe Ramirez,” The tan-skinned man answered.

“First names are for individuals, and last names for families. Just use our last names, it’s normal in a professional setting,” Mitchell explained. “Is your Royal Guard a military unit, or a gendarmerie, or something else?”

“Equestria has never needed a military in our history. Even surrounded by other nations with their own ulterior motives, we’ve been at peace for over a millennium under my rule.”

“A millennium?”

“A short time in the lifespan of an alicorn. Other races tend to be octogenarians.”

“Healthy humans usually live to around their eighties, too,” Beasley stated.

“I noticed how strange it seemed to you when Princess Celestia used magic. Is your race incapable of magic? Ponies are the main users of magic on Equis. Most other races like griffons and minotaurs lack magic, but they can still use more artificial forms of it.”

“Nobody outside of children on our world believe in magic, although it was a major part of medieval folklore a thousand years ago, and you still see it referenced a lot in pop culture; it’s pretty common in the fantasy genre of fiction. Everything we use is based on science and technology. So yeah, seeing actual magic is pretty jarring,” Ramirez said. “And for the record, we’re the only sapient ones on Earth. I think the only reason we’re not openly freaking out in a historic, strange and sensitive situation like this is because - well - we’ve been in a lot of stressful situations before. Still, this is something else.”

“There’s a saying one of our most famed science fiction authors coined. ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic’, and the same goes for the science behind it,” Brown stated.

“Right, Clarke’s Third Law. Careful throwing Niven’s Laws around, buddy,” Ramirez joked, eliciting a chuckle from the other man. “Somebody might get offended.”

“Yeah, will do,” The burly man said back.

The conversation continued for a half hour, revealing many of the basic principles of both worlds. They both hailed from prosperous, altruistic, and populous countries, though the humans’ country was more diverse and they seemed to readily admit their country was far from perfect. Still, Celestia held back just as she felt Mitchell was doing.

As the servants carried their plates from the room, a foreboding wave of pale orange magic swept through the castle, extinguishing every candle and almost all of the magically-powered lights. This caused some worry in itself. The doorways were covered with opaque orange fields that prevented entrance or exit. The room went dark, lit only by the barriers, moon and stars, as well as the light from guards’ horns. Lights that were quickly extinguished as a second wave suppressed magic of all manners. That kind of barrier spell had the side-effect of blocking the escape of sound as well as physical objects. The ponies were now helpless before whatever force was behind this abruptly-made prison.

***

As soon as the room went dark, the familiar cries of the pain and conflict echoed through the chamber. The Ghosts dove to the floor, the sound of blades flying and meeting flesh the only thing they heard outside of screams.

As unfortunate as this turn of events was, it was the first thing that made sense in a while, and it was certainly something they felt more comfortable doing than chatting with magical unicorns and pretty pink pony princesses.

They all activated their FLIR visor mode, lighting the room into shades of gray, the Ghosts wit blue, the previously tagged civilians yellow, and everything else that was alive red. The first thing they saw was that almost every single guard had already been incapacitated.

“Secure the civilians, weapons free!” Mitchell barked. He fired a burst at one of the impossibly agile assailants, hitting it in the leg.

"Who the hell are these guys!?" Ramirez demanded of his hosts as he took a position near them. He received no answer from the visibly confused ponies.

Cloaked equine figures ran across walls and furniture with astounding agility, throwing blades at them as they sprinted to the few civilians whose names they knew. The captain pulled Princess Celestia onto her hooves and felt the hot, sticky presence of blood through his gloves.

“We’ve got wounded, get the civvies out of here!”

Thunder echoed through the room and fire spat from their weapons. The ponies they were protecting locked down and refused to move, forcing their defenders to drag them to cover with one hand and suppress their enemies rather inefficiently with another. Shining Armor was the sole exception, grabbing Princess Cadance and carrying her, as Beasley carried his sister and Mitchell dragged Celestia.

Stone shattered and blood spattered as the attackers began to drop like flies under the combined firepower of the squad. The room offered no real cover, save for the table, making tactics a fanciful notion for them. Still, they did their best to dodge and otherwise avoid incoming blades, knowing that they had scant protection against that kind of weapon over most of their bodies.

After another thirty frantic seconds of dodging knives and firing, the last of the intruders fell to the floor, limp and lifeless. The barriers disappeared, and the illumination crystals restored light, no longer suppressed. Cadance and Twilight opened their eyes and uncovered their faces.

Mitchell looked at Princess Celestia, noting a knife had slashed at the side of her ribcage, making a cut long and deep enough to cause fatal blood loss if not treated, but shallow enough that she wouldn’t have to worry about any organ damage. She’d already lost a lot of blood, making time short.

He pulled a medical kit from his vest and began to dress the wound.

“Stand back, let the man work,” Beasley said as the other ponies tried to approach her.

Stop the bleeding and disinfect. Check. I can’t use a suture kit if she’s heaving like this.

The captain grabbed a bandage from his kit and laid it along the length of the wound. The strip stuck to her fur with great efficacy and contracted slightly, holding the wound shut.

“Done.” Mitchell announced. “Anyone else wounded?”

“Everyone else is fine, captain. Shaken up, but they’ll be alright,” Brown answered.

***

“You said you were diplomats,” Celestia groaned, still in pain from the wound she’d sustained. “You lied.”

She’d been reading others for so long she’d forgotten what it felt like to be deceived. Literally every time somepony had tried to trick her in the last few hundred years she’d seen it and either called them out on it or used it to her advantage to tease them, so being tricked by creatures who’d been on her world for mere hours was humiliating. She knew they were holding back, but she assumed what they had told her was truth regardless.

Of course, diplomats would’ve knelt before her, so her suspicions had at least been founded.

“No, you said that. I thought it’d be better for all involved if you didn’t know you were housing soldiers,” He responded.
The soldier grabbed her around the midsection, avoiding the wound he’d just treated, and lifted her up onto her hooves. It would’ve been difficult to get up on her own through the pain of the gash across her barrel.

“You’ll be fine,” He reassured her. “Just leave the bandage on for a few days, and then you can take it off. I’m guessing it’ll still be sore for another week.”

Walking over to one of the corpses, Ramirez took a closer look. They were clad in cloaks of tan, blue, and black. "It's like something between a splinter-type camouflage pattern and a ceremonial pattern. So I reiterate, Who the hell were those guys?"

"I- I don't know," Princess Celestia answered, dumbfounded.

Shining Armor just stared in horror at the bodies of all the guards that lined the room. Every one of them limp and streaked with blood, their ivory coats returned to their original colors now that their enchanted armor had been nullified. He was their commanding officer and everything that happened to them was on him.

Princess Cadance stood by the stallion and put a comforting hoof over his shoulder. She knew that he was the one most distraught by the violence and deaths, moreso than herself or even his younger sister, because he’d been responsible for the lives of the presumed dead.

“It’s my fault. I was supposed to lead them, and now… Now they’re all...” He shook his head in disbelief, a distant stare on his visage.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done,” She murmured.

“I know, but I… I should’ve done something.”

“You saved my life. That counts for ‘something’.” She gave him a sad smile.

“Yeah…” He returned the smile, his laced with guilt and sadness. “Twily, are you okay?”

“Yeah! Nothing wrong with me. I’m just happy to be alive, what with not having any magic available during the single scariest moment in my life!” She answered sarcastically through her clenched teeth.

“Anyone else smell piss?” Ramirez asked, wrinkling his nose. He looked at Twilight and noticed a pale yellow puddle at her hooves. She blushed and lowered her ears, visibly embarrassed. At least they weren’t laughing.

Mitchell put a hand to the side of his head. “Nolan, Jenkins, take four medics and form up on me…” He paused, as though her were listening to another. “We had to take care of a few dozen party crashers, I need the extra manpower to help fix up these guards, and any surviving attackers too.”

He looked down and noticed a knife embedded in his chest, and pulled it out without so much as a wince. Not a drop of blood exited, implying he wore a sort of armor underneath his attire. “If we can save any of the attackers’ lives it’ll be a big help. Out.”

Mitchell lifted Princess Celestia onto her hooves with a grunt, and the goddess stood erect as he backed away. Six more gray-clad humans rushed into the room, all with tan-colored torsos. They lacked the same gray masks their comrades wore, and many had the same pale skin as Mitchell and Beasley.

The ten men began searching for survivors, finding every member among the guards to be alive, and a few among the aggressors. They began to apply various forms of treatments to them, and carried them over to the near side of the table. The dead were left as they were, merely treated as obstacles to identify and avoid.

“That’s the last of them, captain,” The bespectacled one who’d led them in said. "The guards are all alive."

“Casualties?”

“Hostiles, 15 KIA, 5 WIA. Friendlies, 0 KIA, 20 WIA. The wounded are stabilized, but they’ll need more medical treatment, and a few are in critical condition. If there’s a hospital, send the guards there.”

“Wait,” Shining Armor’s head perked up. “Some of them are still alive?”

“Yeah, I said none killed in action, 20 wounded in action. C’mon, KIA and WIA aren’t that hard to get. Their armor kept the blades from penetrating too deeply. I think that’s more about the angle they hit at for some of them, though. There are a few that might not fully recover. Still, it’s like those guys were trying to just disable the guards. Why would anybody go for an all out attack, then play with kid gloves? It doesn't make sense.”

Despite the possibility of fatalities, a wave of relief washed over him, his demeanor visibly changing. He wasn’t the sole survivor as he feared he was. “Oh, thank Goddess. I’ll have them sent to the hospital immediately.”

“Lieutenant, I’d like you to keep this attack and our guests’ presence secret.”

“I’ll make sure of it, Your Highness.”

“Is there an on-site infirmary and morgue?” The bespectacled one asked. “We need to get rid of these bodies and treat the survivors.”

“Yes. I’ll have these ponies handled,” The young officer said hesitantly. He nodded and galloped off. Even the humans seemed to notice Cadance’s mood change as he left.

“Jenkins, Nolan, take these guys and RTB.”

“Yes sir.” The newcomers left promptly.

There was silence in the room for a time as Celestia stared at the carnage and the bodies of the dead and wounded were carried to the appropriate places. She’d seen violent deaths before, but those mental calluses had apparently grown very thin.

“Aren’t you going to kick us out for being so violent? From what I’ve heard so far, violent conflict isn’t common around here,” Mitchell spoke, breaking the silence.

“Not in Equestria,” She responded grimly. “Outside of Equestria’s borders, things are more… Savage. We’ve been at peace for over a thousand years, as long as the country’s existed, but I’ve only been able to keep my little ponies safe by limiting immigration and emigration, strict border security, as well as active pursuit of foreign policy objectives. A hostile hoof, claw or talon has never stepped upon Equestrian land during my rule, but there’s enough difficulty with just that part of the status quo to prevent us from being more assertive. And I wouldn’t approve of such actions anyway.”

Sighing, she continued. “But it would be wrong to send you on your way given that you’re stranded here. And as much as I resent it, your actions were necessary.”

“Understood. Ma’am, you mind if my team brushes up on how this world works? We’ll need a lot of books.”

“I’ll have a cart of them delivered immediately. I’d hate to leave you uninformed, because we don’t want ignorance to cause an incident, do we?”

“And we’d also appreciate you keeping us a secret, and keeping the gardens off-limits to most.”

“Of course.”

***

On their way to their respective destinations, two humans bumped into Shining Armor, who was heading elsewhere after having informed the relevant authorities that there were injured ponies in the dining room. He looked at the two of them with a mix of awkwardness and fear, while four more walked around him, giving him curious looks.

“Relax, we’re not gonna eat you,” The one with the glasses said.

“Speaking of candle-lit dinners, that pink mare from earlier seemed to be giving you 'the look',” The other added, raising his eyebrows.

“Princess Cadance? What do you mean?” The stallion queried, confused by the taller one’s statement.

“You know the look a girl gives you when she’s interested?”

“N-no?”

“Well she was giving you that look.”

The humans resumed their travel, as did he. He kept up a canter on his way back, briskly navigating the halls.

What did he mean, “When she’s interested”?

He slowed to a walk and looked at the ground contemplatively. She had been giving him a strange look.

Come to think of it, I’ve seen that look a lot on her. For the last few months in fact. Every time she looked at me, she gave me that same smile, and sometimes it even looked like she was blushing.

And there was the time I got an anonymous Hearts and Hooves card. I thought that was just a prank, since the hoofwriting was one of the princesses’, all regal-looking. And the time she recommended that romance novel about the princess and the knight, which I gave to Twily. And the time she insisted we team up with our Nightmare Night costumes.

Then there was the chocolates I got for my birthday, in a heart shaped box. I thought she was just being nice and giving away something she forgot to when it was appropriate.

He kept walking, eventually entering the Great Hall without noticing.

And then she-

“Um, Shining? Are you alright?” Princess Cadance asked.

His eyes shot open as he realized he’d entered to the Great Hall, and he was a few hooves from walking into a wall. He looked over his shoulder and grinned unconvincingly.

“Yeah, I’m great!” He said through clenched teeth. “Just thinking about… You know… Um, stuff?”

She grinned. “Well, you might want to ponder the meaning of life somewhere else. That’s not a good place for thinking.”

“No, I’m fine.” He resumed walking forwards and turned his head to face forward. After a painful collision, he remembered there was a wall in front of him.

“Really? You seem to have hit a brick wall,” She snickered.

Shining realized that they were both glad to have survived the attack unharmed. No dead guards meant a much lighter load on his conscience.

He chuckled nervously in response, and glanced around the chamber. The officer cleared the various ways things could continue to go wrong from his mind and looked back at Cadance.

And when he thought about it, she was actually pretty.

And sweet, and she’s got a crush on me… And she’s a Princess. Oh, Goddess. That can only end badly. Okay, I just need to let her down softly.

“I, uh- I- I know that you’re uh, interested in me, and uh…” He stammered, forcing a smile.

“Good, I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t take the hint.”

“Yeah, that took a while. Um, I think we should talk about that soon.”

“We can meet by the statue of Eos in the gardens tomorrow morning at seven, and we’ll talk more there,” She proposed. “Does that sound good to you?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you then,” She chirped.

That went better than expected. I can let her down easy tomorrow, and she doesn’t have any presumptions. Dodged an arrow there, Shining thought.

Cadance had other ideas.

Author's Note

The XM8 rifle was adopted in the videogame Clancy-verse, though not as a total replacement for the M16/M4 family of weapons across all services. It first appeared in Ghost Recon 2, and quickly became my raifu with its sleek lines, low recoil, balanced rate of fire, integral scope, and numerous variants. Fun fact: a version with Picatinny rails was produced for Malaysia, which has issued them to their special forces units; the snag-free design is a boon in the jungles.

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3. Learning Experience

Canterlot Castle
01:30
October 12, 1196 CE
Day 1

“Sir, with all due respect, we shouldn’t get involved in this conflict,” Master Sergeant Matt Beasley argued. He’d always been wary of volunteering for things at the behest of others. Not out of cowardice or any negative trait, rather as a survival mechanism, a remnant of his days as a “latchkey kid” growing up in Detroit.

“I’m not crazy about it either, but it might be necessary,” Matthew Reeves stated. “A ‘you scratch my back, I scratch yours’, kinda thing,” The leader of the of one of the teams of attached Army Special Forces, his support would be vital in any endeavor. Reeves was didn't outrank the other team leaders. For a 25 year-old, he had plenty of experience to his name. He was still under Mitchell’s command, that was one reason that each team leader was temporarily bumped down from an O-3 to an O-2. But in their current situation the group would need to avoid internal conflict, even milder forms of it.

The humans had all gathered for a meeting, discussing what had happened and what lay ahead for them. They’d arrived on a new world populated by mythical creatures. Their hosts had been attacked. Now, they had a trove of books to go through. Everything supported the idea that the events of this night - both the assassination attempt and this first contact - had been unprecedented in the history of Equestria. The "official" history at least.

The meeting turned into a debate as to whether they should aid their hosts in return for finding a way home, or simply demand a method of return without anything to compensate their hosts. Some of the people in question were more influenced by their political ideologies than others were. They didn’t expect to change the outcome of the decision themselves, only to exchange ideas and potentially influence the highest-ranking person present.

After an hour of discussion, Captain Mitchell gathered the task force around him. He had to lay things out.

Personally, Mitchell wasn’t fond of speeches, but he found this one necessary. He pulled his balaclava down around his neck, and removed his helmet and held it under his arm. He had brown hair trimmed to a short and uniform length in a buzz-cut, and steel-blue eyes.

“Listen up. You all know the situation, and I’m working on a way for us to get home. In the meantime, our hosts gave us a place to stay and have offered their help. We repelled an attack on them by an unknown force, and I think it’d ungrateful of us to let them try and topple our hosts’ government while they try to get us back to Earth, especially considering the possibility of a follow-up attack. Like it or not, we’re going to help them, but things will go a lot smoother if you’re behind the mission. Objections?”

There were none. Mitchell dismissed them.

After that, he replaced his helmet and headed back into the castle to find Princess Celestia. He kept his weapons holstered and his mask tucked into his collar as he re-entered the building, wary of sowing fear among his hosts. Since he’d bandaged the regent up earlier, the radio frequency identification chips in the bandages allowed him to track her as long as she wore them. It was a feature intended to increase awareness of who was wounded on the battlefield and where they were, but also allowed short-range tracking of targets.

After ten minutes of striding through the halls, he came to a balcony. The Princess had hidden her wound under a purple cloak, likely to keep her subjects from being alarmed by her injury. She looked nice in it, it matched her eyes.

He silently walked up beside her, but said nothing, noting that she seemed to be thinking about something.

“Is there something you need, Captain?” She asked, emphasizing his rank. She was probably still sore about being misled.

“I wanted to apologize for leading you on. We didn’t know much about our situation, and I decided to go with the diplomat story after you gave it to me. Soldiers landing near a foreign government’s capital isn’t usually a very friendly event, so I decided to not push my luck. The last thing I want to do is put the people under my command under any unnecessary danger.”

He hated this political role he’d been thrust into, but he needed to keep relations going as smoothly as possible.

“I understand. Were you coming to ask me about finding a way home?” She seemed to be very calm for someone who’d almost been killed mere hours before.

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’ve already had a notice put out to find a way for you and your people to return. It’s a little vague, but since you’re not supposed to be here and I already agreed to keep your presence a secret, that’s fine. Some legally binding documents and a few spells can go a long way in keeping things secret.”

There was a moment of silence before Mitchell spoke again.

“I want to talk about the attack. At the dinner earlier, you told me about your world, and the good and bad that came with it. You’ve done a pretty good job with Equestria from what I can tell, but your nation ends if these ponies succeed. I’m offering my team to help you.”

“I believe in life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. I will not condone the inverse of my beliefs,” She responded firmly, keeping her voice at a normal level and her face stoic.

“Princess, my country was founded on the same principles you say you support. We stick to them for the most part, even if we’re not as upright as we want to be. Those notions are just idealism on their own, because there are people everywhere who don’t have those rights. I believe in those ideals. But not all world leaders are the same, and that seems just as true here. It doesn't take much reading on this world's history to find that out.”

“I won't deny that's common outside Equestria. I've isolated us from the world, and my ponies forget how blessed we are. Less than a hundredth of the Equestrian population even knows what war is, or what soldiers are. If you were to explain to a pony what you did, they wouldn't even understand. The only combat they know of is with untamed beasts, the only trained fighters the peacekeepers of our Royal Guard. Every gift I've given them has made them happier but weaker and more... Naïve.” She said that last word with some distaste. “I can’t raise an army out of nowhere. Not after everything I’ve said over the years rejecting a military. Even if my past statements were overlooked by the world, it’d be years before we could take on the puppets of these… Aggressors. And even then, an army is little use against this kind of enemy.”

He turned to face her, no longer looking out at the stars. “Ma’am, my team aren’t just soldiers. We’re Ghosts; one of the best special operations forces on Earth. When I said we specialized in politically sensitive and dangerous areas, I was telling the truth, because officially, we're just another Special Forces unit. We can fight this war for you.”

“Are you the only organization that does that sort of… Deniable tasks?”

“No. There are others like us, but some of them do different work. We do limited cross-training and joint ops with some of them occasionally.”

“You’d have to be in unfriendly territory quite often. And what if you’re captured?”

“That kind of danger is the norm for us. Plus, there’s no reason for anyone to believe that our unit belongs to you, so political fallout is a non-issue. We can stop this before it comes into the open. All we want in return is for you to work on a way for us to return to Earth.”

She closed her eyes and breathed pensively before answering. “… Captain Mitchell, we have a deal.”

“Good. We’ll interview the surviving attackers tomorrow…” He removed his helmet, showing his now-uncovered head. “Mind if I ask what you’re doing here?”

When on a mission, the captain cared little for idle banter. But when in relative safety, he was sociable enough.

“Not at all. Tonight is Nightmare Night. It celebrates how I banished Nightmare Moon to the moon 996 years ago. But Nightmare Moon was once my younger sister Luna. Luna raised the moon and arranged the stars just as I raised the sun. She felt nopony appreciated her work, with fewer astronomers and astrologers than today, and very few ponies who would bother to enjoy the night sky. Being as introverted and insecure as she was, it drove her to madness, to the point where her negative emotions coalesced into a second personality that took over her body. She attempted to create an eternal night, and I had to banish her using the Elements of Harmony.”

Mitchell was skeptical of much of her story. At least the parts involving celestial bodies. But in a world of actual magic, it wasn’t completely implausible if the details were altered some. Perhaps she was linked to the planet’s rotation rather than the sun, acting as a living focus that increased the rotational speed of the planet, or the planet existed within a Dyson sphere that was linked to her and her sister.

Science fiction helps make sense of things here, if only because they don’t make sense at face value. But then, what does make sense here?

Celestia deflated slightly, though she obviously tried to remain stoic in front of him.

“You feel like you could’ve or should’ve done more. Like you could’ve prevented it and a lot of suffering along with it.”

She was surprised by his assertion. “Was it that obvious?”

“No. But every leader’s been there. Every older sibling too.”

They discussed a few points of the working relationship between his unit and her inner circle of trusted ponies, as well as a short-term plan of action, then they each headed off to their respective beds.

The next morning, before dawn, Mitchell headed to the suites where the surviving members of the attackers resided. Until they were identified, their group was simply referred to as OpFor, short for “opposing force”. He had his mask tucked away and his helmet attached to his tactical vest, as well as his weapons with him.

After consulting with one of the doctors, who’d been vetted to the best of their hosts’ abilities, he headed to a room holding one of the OpFor members, specifically the only medically stable one. He was given a clipboard with all available information on the individual, most of it medical.

Patient 04
Mid-30s (presumed)
Male
Pegasus
Coat: Brown
Mane: Slate-Gray
Eyes: Green
Cutie Mark: Absent

Patient was treated for numerous wounds inflicted by an unknown weapon. Small conical projectiles were removed from body, having caused extensive trauma to the left foreleg resulting in significant blood loss. If not treated more thoroughly soon, amputation may be necessary.

Currently fitted with a bulky cast and kept in cell-like room. Under suicide watch and guarded at recommendation of unknown third-party advisor. Patient is stable and lucid, but refuses to talk about himself. Cutie mark appears to have been removed, though no signs of surgery are present.

Sodium pentothal administered at the behest of aforementioned third-party advisor.

Mitchell opened an iron door and entered the room holding his subject. The subject limped over to him, intrigued by his presence, before sitting back down. The soldier took a seat on a stool facing him. Between them was a table.

“Ah. You must be the one who did this to me.” The pony lifted his cast disdainfully, but smiled all the while. “And you’re here to…?”

“I’m here to talk. Last night, you and nineteen others conducted a terrorist attack on Canterlot Castle in an attempt to assassinate a sitting head of state. I’m gonna ask you some questions, and I want you to answer them honestly.”

“I’ll do my best,” He said mockingly.

“I want your name and the name of your little club.”

“I don’t have a name. I have a title given to me for each assignment, and I use the one from that assignment until my next one is given. Just call me ‘Sparrow’. And my organization isn’t known to a peon like me, as I’m only an extension of their will, the same as the rest of my ‘little club’. Members of my part of the organization are just one way of implementing that will, and only the higher-ups know who we work for.”

“Alright. So what’s your part of the group called?”

“We’re called ‘Strangers’ for a reason. We exist do the wetwork for our leaders. And I doubt we’re the best they have. We’re expendable assassins. But we’re all important enough to know why we do these things.”

“Why, then?”

“Do you know what cutie marks are?”

“Between books and dinner, I got a crash course on Equestria last night. A pony finds their ‘special talent’, it appears like clockwork.”

“It’s a method of control. Every country on this world has one. Most use hatred, fear, patriotism, wealth, or xenophobia to control their citizens. Equestria, for all its rhetoric and ‘freedom’, uses some of these as well. But they’re minor methods in this nation. The true method of control lies upon ponies’ flanks. What better way to control somepony’s goals than to tell them what their ‘greatest’ skill is? To tell them what their destiny is?”

“Are you saying cutie marks are some kind of mind control?” He asked incredulously, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.

He’s giving this information too freely. Something’s up.

Sparrow leaned forwards. “Once you get that mark on your flank, your fate is forever tied to it. But remove the mark, and your freedom returns. In another life I was a carpenter. I hated it, but it was all I could do. Every attempt I made to break from that destiny was thwarted by how others saw me because of that mark, and how it stopped me from succeeding in unrelated pursuits by inducing unnatural spasms. The Strangers found me, recruited me, removed my mark, and now I’m free. Now I can release my anger, my frustration, and use it to spread freedom. Equestria without cutie marks… That’s why we didn’t kill any guards, because they were slaves to our real target: Princess Celestia.”

The stallion was silent for over a minute before a crack came from the back of his mouth and he began to turn blue. Mitchell called for a doctor and a Cyanokit, declaring that the patient was suffering from cyanide poisoning. They were unable to save him, leaving Mitchell with a single lead.

***

“So they’re called ‘Strangers’?” Princess Celestia asked after Mitchell went over what happened. “Their ideology is certainly… Strange.”

"He talked way too easily. I don't get why he'd do that, then kill himself," The captain said, shaking his head.

There was a grain of truth to the ideas, and she knew it. Cases of cutie marks indicating false talents and holding ponies back were rare, but not unheard of. Some theorized that the mark indicated a talent of the owner, rather than the talent. It was all speculation, and only her parents knew the truth about the marks. A truth that was lost over a thousand years before.

As for the cause of death, Captain Mitchell was adamant that he’d used a cyanide capsule embedded in a molar to commit suicide. Murder was unheard of in Equestria, with less than half a dozen cases over the last century, but suicide was something nearly unspeakable. To suggest that any individual or group of individuals would consider having a ready method of suicide to be an asset was sickening.

But outside of Equestria, in the lands they had allied themselves with and the ones aligned against them, she knew that things were likely much more grim. The cold indifference the officer showed towards death was almost as alien to her as the lands outside Equestria had become.

Her foreign policy consisted mostly of diplomatic missions and economic forums, with a smattering of foreign aid. For the most part she kept her country isolated, not out of xenophobia, but out of caution. The many cultures of the world possessed a shocking capacity to change ponies for the worse, if they would be allowed to. And as their leader and guardian, Princess Celestia found the isolationism a sad necessity.

“This is our best lead right now. Tell the ponies you trust after they have breakfast. No sense having them anxious during the most important meal. ”

She nodded in acknowledgement, wondering where their lead would take them.

And if I use these humans as weapons for the sake of my ponies, am I any better than the warmongering leaders I’ve distanced myself from?

She shook her head and sighed, resuming her normal schedule.

***

“Six fifty-nine,” Shining Armor muttered, glancing at his pocketwatch.

He stood in front of the pedestal of the statue he was supposed to meet Princess Cadance at. Eos, the mythical embodiment of dawn, arched her head forwards as her wings held aloft the sun. In lieu of the majestic white marble used for the rest of the statue, an orb of quartz with gold insets was suspended between the figure’s wingtips to represent the sun.

As the actual sun rose further, he realized something about the statue he hadn’t the previous hundred-and-something times he’d seen it. It was perfectly oriented on axis with the sun.

“Three, two, one…” Cadance whispered from behind him. He was about to turn around to face her when the sun aligned perfectly with the crystal orb, which began to glow from within, a golden mist filling the inside of it.

They silently stared at it together for a few minutes, until the sun was no longer aligned with the ornament.

“Is that why you picked this place and time?” Shining asked.

“Yes. I thought it’d be a nice way to start our day,” She replied.

“Our”? He wondered, repeating that word in his head. No, it’s nothing. I’m just reading too much into things.

“Right. Um, I just wanted to say…” He trailed off, trying to find the right words. Suddenly, he realized he hadn’t figured out how he’d tell her he wasn’t interested.

Plan B. Play it by ear, wait for the right moment. I really don’t want to get in trouble for dating a Princess. But I don’t want to break her heart either, because she’s the embodiment of love, and that would probably make her explode. Maybe twice.

“I mean, where do you want to go?”

Oh, Tartarus. Okay, I just need to avoid drawing too much attention so nopony misunderstands and thinks we’re dating. Someplace dark, where she’ll probably be distracted.

“Yeah. There are some new movies out that look fun. They’ll probably have most of them advertised in the newspaper, so we can eat breakfast and choose one before we go.”

“Sounds good,” The Princess said. “I could really go for some haycon and eggs.”

Oh, that sounds delicious. And how many girls have such good taste in breakfasts? It’s probably just a fluke, not much chance at more similarities.

“Me too, let’s go.”

***

Mitchell and a few members of his team sifted through news reports and educational literature, searching for any information on these “Strangers.” So far, there was nothing. After a few hours of searching, they stopped, reasoning that the group they were looking for was probably secretive enough that only major conspiracy buffs would know anything about them. In fact, they couldn’t find anything even somewhat related to their attackers.

They replaced the books where they found them and headed out. On their way, they bumped into the young mare from the previous night. She was carrying a hefty stack of books with her magic, which collapsed on the captain, knocking him to the wooden floor.

He grunted at first and wished he’d been wearing his helmet.

I guess telekinesis isn’t as strong as I thought. Or hers just isn’t that good.

“Go on, I’ll catch up,” He said, waving away his comrades.

“Oh my gosh, I’m really sorry! Please don’t hate me!”

He pushed the pile of books off of his chest a few at a time and got to his feet. Brushing himself off, he looked back at her.

“You really think I’d hate you because of a little accident?” He asked.

Her ears lowered and she looked avoided eye contact. “Well, it’s happened before. Most of the ponies at the school I go to take every chance they get to make fun of me… You can call me a klutz if you want.”

He helped her sort out the tomes, stacking them the way he remembered seeing them before he was hit. “I thought the Princess taught you personally?”

“She does, but only every other school week. And I still have to spend the other half of the school weeks attending classes with everypony else. I only have to spend about half as much time in class as the other ponies, but I hate every second of it. Some days I wish I’d never been applied to Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.”

She looked scornful as she placed her books on a nearby table and levitated a work titled “World Herald, September 1196 Collection.” in front of her. She opened the tome and splayed it out.

“Why?”

“Because they hate me. They make fun of me and say the princess keeps me around for a laugh because I’m so pathetic. They mock me because when I had to deliver a speech to my class I… I wet myself without realizing it until afterwards. I’m no good at sports, the smart ponies are all jealous of me because I’m the Princess’ protégé, the popular ponies make fun of my manecut and everything else about me, and everypony else just finds me an easy target.”

She started to cry about halfway through, and Mitchell immediately walked over to give her a comforting hug, his big brother instincts unexpectedly kicking in.

***

Youngstown, Ohio, USA
After school
Friday, May 7, 1993

Jennifer Mitchell got off the school bus crying, and ran to her house from there. She covered an eighth of a mile in a few minutes, her sobs mixed with panting by the time she got to her doorstep. Before she could open the door or ring the bell her older brother, oldest brother actually, answered the door. The second-grader ran into his arms as he knelt down to hug her.

She began to recite the injustices her classmates had done her that day, every sentence punctuated by a sob. Her brothers’ school had gotten the day off, but she hadn’t been so lucky. Then again, even if they hadn’t gotten the day off, they still would’ve been home earlier than her.

Scott hated seeing his baby sister like this. He couldn’t help her at school, he couldn’t talk to the PTA, he couldn’t do anything, and neither could his father. Since his dad was a foreman at the General Motors assembly plant in Lordstown, and his mother’s passing three years before, he’d become the de facto man of the house. He helped his dad run things, and whenever they could find the time, the whole family spent time together watching movies. It was a troubled family, but not an abusive or unloving one by any means; they all did their best to make things work.

He was giving his brother Nicholas increasing levels of responsibility, preparing him to take his place after he graduated high school in a couple of years. At school he was an above-average student, but he was too busy at home to focus on raising his grades to a level where he could get a scholarship.

After a while, he was able to calm his sister. Still, he felt guilty for not being able to do more.

***

Canterlot Castle - Library
08:00
October 12, 1196 CE
Day 1

Mitchell let Twilight cry into his shoulder for a while.

“Why don’t you tell your brother, or your parents, or Princess Celestia about this?” He asked.

“Because my brother would overreact, and my parents would be extremely overprotective if they weren’t all the way on the other side of Canterlot. Princess Celestia wouldn’t have time for that kind of thing.”

“Next time I see her, I’ll talk to her about it,” He said reassuringly.

“Thank you…”

The soldier began to walk out of the library as Twilight read aloud. He’d almost passed through the door when he heard her mutter the words “Strangers” and “Journalist”. He returned to her side and put on his helmet, activating a recording feature.

“Hold on. What was that part about ‘Strangers’?”

She perked an eyebrow but humored his request. “Calliope, the freelance journalist and photographer, recently responsible for breaking the Moscolt corruption scandal, among many other credits, has disappeared. Sources close to her claim she’d headed to Coat D’Azure to investigate rumors of a mysterious guild reportedly known as ‘Strangers’ after interviewing renowned diplomat Marey Pat Foaly. We here at the Herald hope she returns safely.”

“Thanks.”

He transmitted the audio-video feed to his team members and told several of them to come find him in the library, and bring their hostess. A few minutes later, Princess Celestia was present Rosen, Reeves, Ramirez, and Diaz, the “senior” officers on the team. They dug up information on the missing mare and the place she was last seen. Twilight’s help proved invaluable in locating that information.

“She’s a pegasus mare. Golden coat, brown mane. Green eyes, and a crossed pen and sword as her cutie mark. Reminds me of my high-school crush,” Reeves joked.

“I still can’t believe where we are,” Ramirez sighed.

“Don’t think about it too hard. We all agreed we’d just accept the situation we’re in for our sanities’ sake,” Diaz responded.

“Could be worse,” Rosen said with a shrug.

“How?”

“Could be Care Bears.”

The humans chuckled briefly, while Twilight and Princess Celestia remained clueless as to why.

“Alright, can the chatter. What do we know about Coat D’Azure?” Mitchell said, putting the conversation back on track.

“It’s a border town in Prance, just a stone’s throw across the North Trough River from Equestria. It’s relatively small, with only a few hundred ponies living there. Most of them are earth ponies and unicorns,” The Princess explained.

“I found something more about her disappearance. She disappeared from the Carte Blanche Inn. Constables didn’t look into it because the owner has a lot of influence. He might know something,” Twilight reported.

“Environment?”

“Stone buildings, mostly. There’s some low-level fog at night, usually just a yard or two above the ground. It’s a temperate region with lots of hills,” She continued.

“Language barriers?”

“They don’t speak Equestrian like we do. Being in Prance, they speak Prench, naturally.”

“Alright. Could either of you speak some as an example? If it’s a parallel language like we already share, then one of us might speak it.”

Celestia said something in an elegant, silky-sounding language, to which Mitchell replied in the same tongue, his response eliciting a chuckle from them both.

“Okay. Last question. How far away is it, and where exactly is it?”

“210 miles northeast of here…” Twilight said, in the tone one used when being the bearer of bad news. “At an average of three miles per hour for fourteen hours a day in a straight line, that’s a five-day journey on hoof, absolute best-case.”

“Or an hour-and-a-half by Black Hawk,” Rosen grinned.

“Make it happen. Ramirez, I want you, Hume, Smith, Diaz, and Beasley ready to fight by sunset,” Mitchell ordered. “Beasley and Diaz will keep a low profile and act as a sniper-spotter team, in case things get hairy and we need the extra guns. Ramirez, Hume, Smith and I will locate and retrieve the target. We’ll use our Crosscoms’ FLIR function to see through the fog, and we can put a Cypher in the area for extra coverage.”

“You’re not going in there, are you?” Celestia asked, clearly harboring thoughts against the idea.

“We can’t be traced back to you, ma’am. As for civilian casualties, Ghosts have never killed an innocent, and I intend to keep that record going. Don't worry about us; we’ve taken out enemy bases with less.”

“What if something comes up?”

“I’ll keep in touch with my people here. If we need your help, I’ll tell the people here to get you. Before you ask, our communications gear is good enough that we can communicate over that kind of distance easily. And as a heads up, we might need you to convince the reporter to keep quiet about us when we get her back here.”

“I understand.”

Mitchell and Celestia left the room, and continued to speak outside. By then, the purple teenager was once again alone in the library.

“Twilight told me, and apparently no one else, that she’s been putting up with a lot of bullying in school, and I really think you should talk to her about it. It’s really eating her up, and in my experience it’s best for the victim if the bullies are taken care of sooner rather than later.”

“Why hasn’t she told anypony about this?”

“She thinks her brother would overreact, her parents would be overprotective, and that you wouldn’t have time to deal with that sort of thing. And she sometimes wishes she’d never enrolled in your school because of the bullying.”

She furrowed her brow and looked down, her eyes going out of focus. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was noting similarities between her self-perceived neglect of her sister and the suffering of her student.

“My little sister had to put up with bullies for a while, and it was really hard on her. My father had to work long hours to support my family, and with my mother dead nobody was able to help with her problem except for a few people at her school. I couldn’t do a thing, and neither could my siblings, and I was supposed to lead and take care of them,” Mitchell explained. “She needs your help, Princess.”

“I know. And I’ll make time to help her.”

“Thanks.”

***

“I didn’t expect that movie to be as good as it was,” Shining Armor commented as he walked Cadance back to the castle. She’d simply put on a blouse to cover her wings and removed her jewelry, and nopony realized she was a Princess. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Well, sometimes sequels are really good,” She responded. “Hopefully we’ll get one.”

“Yeah,” He replied with a smile. “I hope so too.”

Just outside the walled-off structure, she gave him a peck on the cheek. When she turned away from him and headed inside, his face turned cherry-red. He bit his lip and struggled to not say anything as he internally panicked.

Oh Goddess. She thought that was a date. Why would she think that? Do ponies go to movies for dates? I don’t think they do… I need to figure out how dating works.

I’ll need a book on the subject, but I can’t let Twily catch on. She would freak out.

Author's Note

Hurricane Fluttershy confirmed that ponies have film. And who needs CGI when you have magic?

Also, the background I used for Captain Mitchell is canon. Much of the info I use is drawn from the Ghost Recon novel and the in-game bios, though they leave plenty of room for interpretation.

4. Operation Dream Knife

Canterlot Castle
20:00
October 12, 1196 CE
Day 1
Commencing Operation Dream Knife

The rotors on the team’s chosen Black Hawk, “Buzzard”, began to kick up dirt as it ascended. Mitchell looked out and saw the Princess and her entourage staring up at them, then shut the door of the vehicle as it reached the altitude they’d be travelling at for the duration of the flight.

The team had chosen variants of the M8 for the most part. Its light weight and ergonomics lent well to the speed the mission was aiming for, though it was restricted by its lack of customization options; it was best used when speed and simplicity were of paramount importance. Mitchell and Ramirez had chosen a standard carbines, while Hume and Smith used the compact carbine variant. Each of them kept the integral advanced weapon sights and fitted their weapons with a suppressor. But then, if it turned into a firefight where the full extent of their firepower would be necessary, they’d remove the suppressors.

Matt Beasley used a suppressed M8 carbine, and Alicia Diaz chose an M8 DMR with a sound suppressor. They’d be the sniper-spotter team, working in conjunction with a Cypher unmanned aerial vehicle operated by Joshua Rosen from Canterlot. If necessary, Mitchell could take control of the UAV himself.

“You know what I just realized?” Ramirez questioned.

“What?”

He pointed at Diaz. “Small town girl, livin’ in a lonely world.” He then pointed at Beasley. “City boy, born and raised in south Detroit.”

A round of chuckles came from around the chopper.

“That in mind, Captain, I really hope you’re not trying any matchmaking here,” Diaz said. She was very professional, mostly because she was part of the minority of females in a male-dominated profession.

Similarly, Beasley was something of a loner. He had no problem working in a team, but he was wary of volunteering and preferred not to take point. His self-sufficiency was excellent, and he took quiet pride in it.

As two of the most professional Ghosts, there was little chance of romance, even by the standards of their unit. They were practically family.

“Relax, I’m not.” Mitchell assured them.

“Besides, Journey’s great and all, but in the end no band’s as good as Queen,” The pilot chirped.

“Well,” John Hume began. He was the team’s demolition specialist and secondary marksman, and was known to be quite animated. They’d brought him in case they needed fireworks.

“Here we go…” Ramirez muttered as the coming argument became obvious.

Paul Smith quietly chuckled.

***

“I really need to ask about those beasts they ride,” Twilight said as one of the aforementioned creatures lifted off.

“Actually, I think they’re some kind of machines,” Shining Armor stated, gazing with her.

The other ponies present, including both Princesses, looked at him as though he were a foal who’d said something stupid.

“I could give you a dozen reasons why that sort of technology is infeasible,” His little sister deadpanned.

“Sorry… Do you think sending them out there was the right idea?” He asked her. He then realized he’d questioned the choice of a deity and proverbially backpedaled, trying to reframe his question. “I mean, I’m sure Princess Celestia had her reasons and that she’s made the right choice, but what do you think her reasons were?”

“I don’t have a clue. A better question is, ‘Can they do it?’, at least in my opinion.”

“I’m not sure myself…” Celestia muttered to nopony. She’d overheard their conversation despite their discretion. She found their unshakable faith in her perfection, all ponies faith for that matter, to be quietly depressing.

As much as ponies believed otherwise, she wasn’t perfect. She sometimes considered herself unfit to make the decisions required of an immortal monarch whose word was treated with unquestionable authority. And now, she’d sent stranded soldiers that depended on her and whom she knew little about into a foreign land, solely to try and find a mare who might not even be alive, on the chance that she might have useful information on a group that posed an existential threat to Equestria.

I hope it was the right choice.

***

“Over the LZ in one mike,” The pilot, Second Lieutenant Jordan Luft announced. He’d gotten the team to the city in just over an hour, although in the different time zone it was after midnight.

“Deploying Cypher UAV in three, two, one… Deployed!” The co-pilot shouted.

“I’m linked to the Cypher, and I’ve linked up to Buzzard’s radar to get a map of the town,” Rosen told them over their Crosscoms. “There’s a small tower with a good view of the area around the Carte Blanche Inn. Diaz and Beasley can work from there, and they can rappel down the sides if the staircase gets too risky. Transmitting map and coordinates to your team.”

“Copy, Rosen,” Mitchell responded. “Diaz, Beasley, I want you on that tower.”

Buzzard passed over the city, which had low-level fog on that night, about a meter above the ground.

“Ten seconds!”

The helicopter tilted backwards and descended to fifty feet as it neared the landing zone, providing reverse thrust to stop the vehicle’s forward momentum. It came to a hover in the closest securable area to the target building, where the team could safely make landfall and fight off an ambush if need be.

After looking down at the empty business district below, Mitchell grabbed a rope and hooked it to a latch on the floor. Next to him, Smith was likewise hooking in. They backed up and fast-roped down to the cobblestone street. Ramirez and Hume came next, followed by Diaz and Beasley. As soon as each soldier hit the ground, they unhooked and shouldered their weapons.

“Buzzard falling back to loitering distance.” The chopper flew away and left them on their own. The city seemed empty, or at least this part did. Probably a mixture of ponies being home instead of at their workplaces, and some fear on the part of anypony who saw them.

“Ghosts, move out.”

They did as he commanded, and the overwatch team split off to head to their position.

Smith eagerly took point, followed by Mitchell, Ramirez, and Hume. In a staggered line, they walked through the streets. If anypony saw them, they didn’t make themselves known; they were probably staying inside while the Ghosts were out. Still, they remained alert as they advanced to their objective.

“Target area looks clear, Captain,” Diaz informed them.

“UAV reads no hostiles on your route, Scott,” Rosen added.

“Put it on a patrol of the target area, half klick radius, and call me if anything comes up. Out.”

After several more tense minutes of making their way through the silent streets, they reached the Carte Blanche Inn. It was a two-story stone building, and it looked fairly classy. The front door was locked, and forcing it open would make too much noise.

“I can pick this, Captain,” Ramirez assured him. He’d originally joined the Army because he’d been getting in trouble increasingly often, and he was told frequently he needed that kind of order in his life. Mostly he’d gotten in trouble for hacking, but he’d done a few other kinds of criminal acts. And when the team needed a computer cracked or a lock picked, they usually turned to him. “Watch my back.” He pulled out a lockpick and went to work, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.

In less than ten seconds, he was finished, and he tucked the picks into a pouch. “Done.” Every Ghost knew how to pick locks for when entries needed to be silent, but he was the best of them.

Mitchell and Ramirez stalked in with their pistols drawn, followed by Hume and Smith, whose compact carbines swept the lobby for movement, the lasers built into their advanced sights showing their fields of fire. As silently as they entered, they closed the door.

“We’re in. What do we know about the layout?” Mitchell whispered over the radio.

“The manager should be in a suite on that floor. The only one on that floor, actually,” Rosen answered.

“Found it, boss,” Hume said. “How we gonna do this, good cop, bad cop?”

“Unless you speak French, I’ll handle it alone. Ramirez?”

“On it…” He spent a few seconds on the lock. “Done.”

Mitchell crept inside, alone and with his suppressed HK45T drawn. He swept for hostiles and holstered his sidearm. Instead, he drew a knife with his left hand and held it over the manager’s throat. He covered his mouth with the other hand, which woke the golden stallion.

“Pas de cris, pas de mouvements brusques,” He whispered in French. “Que savez-vous sur Calliope?” He moved his hand to let him speak.

“Elle est arrivée récemment et... Je peux pas. Ils me tueront si je parle.”

“Ne me forcez pas à vous couper la gorge pour voir si mes réponses y sont.”

“D'accord, d'accord! Ils la gardent à la cave, c'était la seule façon de la déplacer discrètement. Elle était encore vivante il y a deux jours. C'est tout ce que je sais, je vous le jure!”

“Merci.” He smothered the pony until he passed out, then tucked him in. With any luck, when he awoke he’d think it was a dream, at least until he realized his illicit guest was missing. Moving out of the room and closing the door behind him, he motioned for the team to form up.

“The package was last seen two days ago in the wine cellar, alive. Diaz, how’s the outside look?”

“All clear Captain.”

“Rosen?”

“No move- Wait. I’m seeing something. Switching to FLIR. Captain, you’ve got multiple hostiles moving in on your position, I’d say twenty. A lot of parkour happening down there. Uh-oh.”

“What?”

“Sir, another two dozen are heading towards you, and they’re gonna pass by the sniper team. I think they’re heading to extract the package.”

“Diaz, Beasley, get out of there and stay undetected. Forty of them is way too many and they’re highly agile. In this kind of terrain they’ll bypass any cover we have or any obstacles in their way, flank us and tear us apart! You two get to the nearest LZ, Buzzard will pick you up.”

“Yes sir!”

“Smith, use those hunter’s senses of yours and watch for hostiles. Hume, Ramirez, help keep this area secure. I’m going downstairs to secure the package.”

They nodded, and he proceeded downstairs to the wine cellar, his suppressed sidearm in hand. His M8 carbine was already plenty compact and easy enough to use in buildings, but in very tight quarters it was still too large. He searched the aromatic lower level for the door to the cellar and ended up finding it by following the scent to a hallway, where he searched for a door that was marked as a wine cellar in French. The door was unlocked, and he snuck in.

It was dark, and he was quietly thankful that the glow of his Crosscom eyepiece was hardly noticeable in pitch black, though it wasn’t quite that dark. Barrels were arranged neatly in several rows, mounted on wooden racks.

He could hear moaning coming from the other side of a neat pile of barrels. He peeked around to see the hostage tied to a pole. A pair of thugs watched while a third tried to beat something out of her.

“I swear to Celestia, if you don’t tell me where you hid the notes, I’ll start breaking legs!” The interrogator barked.

“I already told you, numbskull, I keep ‘em in my head,” Calliope replied with a glare. “Notes are a liability on stories like this.”

For the record, Mitchell believed her. He’d heard of reporters doing that kind of thing, including the one he’d helped rescue in Mexico a few months earlier.

He smacked her.

“Go mess yourself. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Mitchell emerged from cover as the stallion wound up his foreleg to punch her.

He fired a shot into the closest stallion’s temple, a loud cough coming from his weapon, then one into another’s side as he walked towards her. The interrogator tried to kick him, he sidestepped and kicked him to the floor, shooting him in the neck before he could get up.

The mare just gazed at him in a mixture of awe and fear. He untied her and helped her to her hooves. She pushed him back and moved away from him, proving that she could move well enough, while also demonstrating her caution.

“Package is secure. How close are the hostiles?” He reloaded his pistol as he whispered into his microphone.

“I give you forty seconds.”

“Damn it. Calliope, we need to move right now.”

She nodded, still in shock, and followed him as he ran through the cellar and halls and upstairs to the lobby. She stumbled as she tried to ascend the stairs, her abuse in captivity clearly hindering her.

“Alright, we go out the back, take the alleys south to LZ Foxtrot. Calliope, stay close.”

She shook her head, indicating both disagreement and that she had pieced herself together from the shock.

“Why the hay should I do that? I don’t even know what you are!” The mare protested.

“Because there’s about forty ponies closing in who want your head and ours.” That convinced her to obey, though it didn’t really seem to assuage her suspicion of them.

Smith opened the back door and motioned to the team that the coast was clear. Mitchell then signaled for them to move outside. They hustled several blocks southwards before the man on point held up a fist. The quintet pressed themselves against the darkest shadows in the nearest alley.

The Ghosts and their guest gazed upwards as around a dozen cloaked figures passed over them in a crude delta formation. They’d likely split up to cover more ground, and they were fanning out around them, heading parallel to their escape route.

The Strangers took up positions watching the area. They’d be unable to move very far without being spotted.

“Rosen, our escape route is looking crowded. Get that Cypher above us and mark our targets, we’ll take them down.”

“Got it, Scott. I’ll have it there in a few seconds.”

A few moments later, a dozen red diamonds appeared in the area around the street, each one signifying an enemy. Mitchell began to gesture from each teammate to a trio of targets, assigning them the ponies they were supposed to neutralize. They aimed down the sights of their weapons and waited for the order to fire.

“Now.”

A dozen claps in three salvos, a dozen puffs of blood, and a dozen bodies fell limp and lifeless to streets and roofs in the area. Calliope just gazed awestruck at the ease with which they delivered death.

“Let’s move,” Mitchell whispered.

The Ghosts dashed further south, until their HUDs told them they were a dozen meters from the waypoint. By then they were just outside the town, on the northern bank of the wide river that separated them from Equestrian soil. As soon as they reached the spot, they took to their knees and formed a 360 degree field of fire.

“Buzzard, we have the package and we’re clear for extraction.”

“Roger, Captain, on our way. ETA, half a mike.”

“Thirty seconds, people.”

“Uh, what’s that sound?” Calliope inquired, presumably talking about the approaching noise from the Black Hawk’s rotors. Moments later, its silhouette could be made out, its outline against the blue night sky eerily similar to an ocean predator. To her it must have seemed an otherworldly creature, and most ponies had a subconscious fear of the unknown, just like humans.

The aircraft in question soon arrived and did an orbit around them before touching down on the thick grass. The side door slid open, and the sniper team motioned for them to get in, while music played within. Mitchell waited for the rest of his team to get onboard before grabbing Calliope under his arm and bringing her onboard, ignoring her protests. Smith shut the door behind them, and their new “friend” began to fidget slightly.

She’d just been “rescued” from thugs by a group of extremely dangerous beings whose motivations she knew nothing about. For all she knew, they’d do even worse things to her.

“Good work, Ghosts,” Mitchell said before turning to the reporter. “You can relax, we’re bringing you to Canterlot.”

“We’re what you’d call ‘good guys’, so don’t worry,” Ramirez added. That didn’t seem to calm her much. Most people - or on this world, ponies griffons and the like - considered themselves “good guys” if they fought for a cause they believed in.

“Sir, Princess Celestia needs to talk to you, now,” Rosen interrupted. Some words could be heard in the background, likely him explaining how to use the NARCOM system.

“Captain,” The regent said, her visage appearing in the top right corner of his HUD. “There’s been an incident. I don’t know if it’s related to the Strangers, but we need your help.”

“What’s the situation?”

“I’ve had a sort of magic-based early-warning system set up for centuries, and it just went off. Somepony is constructing an Aegis Gate in the Everfree Castle, and I believe it will be finished and activated before dawn, when the full moon sets. The consequences of it being opened are very dire. It'd take some time to explain exactly what it is, but it's essentially a very dangerous, very volatile type of portal that could detonate horrifically if misused. It's deep inside the Everfree Forest.”

“Most of my team is with me now, and we won’t be back in time to stop it. Rosen, have Reeves take his team and a guide familiar with the area if possible, it's dense and cramped from what I know.”

“I can provide a guide who knows that area. Her name is Artemis Arrow. She’s more familiar with the Everfree than almost anypony else I know. She was a specialist we recruited a few years ago to help our guards deal with larger creatures and wilderness situations. She's not a guard per se, but we know she can keep quiet and she's quite capable of handling herself.”

“Boss, I just told Reeves and he’s readying up now.”

“Tell Reeves his team will take our other Black Hawk.”

“On it, boss.”

“Thank you,” The Princess said.

Mitchell decided to change the subject. “Princess, we’ve extracted Calliope. She’s alive and in decent shape, but she was physically abused by her captors.”

“I see… Is there anything else you can tell me? How many lives were lost?”

“Ma’am, a total of twenty targets engaged. Six by Captain Mitchell, three each by the rest of his squad for fifteen total. Sniper team engaged five, two by Beasley, three by Diaz. All targets are confirmed kills. No friendly or noncombatant casualties,” Rosen told her.

“Twenty dead…” Celestia repeated morosely, still trying to come to terms with the violence seeping into her life. Though she authorized the mission in question, she clearly felt guilt for the score of deaths.

“The Strangers are gonna cover their tracks and clean up the bodies if they want to stay secret. The inn’s manager was collaborating, but I neutralized him without doing any real harm. I’ll give you a full report when I get back. Out.” He cut the transmission.

“Wait, you know about the Strangers?” Calliope asked, her curiosity piqued enough to override her fear and awe of the humans.

Hume gave her a quick and condensed synopsis of their arrival on Equis, and Ramirez explained the attack in passing. Mitchell explained how he interrogated one of them, and some of the key points he learned. They all refrained from giving her the whole picture out of caution. Actually, they gave her the absolute bare minimum.

“We came here because you’re our only lead on them right now. How much do you know about them?” He asked

“A whole lot. I’ve memorized all of it and I always test my memory of info, so I can guarantee it’s accurate. As a precaution, all of my notes and documents are mailed to a friend, who stores them in a fireproof safe in my Canterlot apartment. He has several duress words available for emergencies, and a few codes to prove it’s him for when he sends me mail confirming my notes have reached safety. And the last package I sent him was safe, so I can back up all of my claims. Nopony but nopony messes with my work.”

“Good to hear. We’ll need to look over what you’ve got on them. Princess Celestia and I will work with you to piece together more information. Oh, and one more thing,” Mitchell told her.

“Yeah?”

“You can’t tell anypony about us, or what we do. You’ll probably need to stay with us while you lay low; you’ll help us and we’ll protect you. Understand that?”

“Yeah. Not like anypony’d believe me without hard evidence anyway.” She nodded slowly, frowning at the thought of having to sit on a huge story like this. “It’ll be an interesting experience at least.”

The captain chuckled quietly. “It sure is for us.”

Author's Note

I'd like to thank RoadRunneR for translating into French.

5. Credible Threat

Canterlot Castle
22:30
October 12, 1196 CE
Day 1
Preparing to investigate disturbance at Everfree Castle

As Matthew Reeves and his team readied for the mission and awaited their advisor, a man in an Air Battle Uniform walked up to him with a tablet.

“Sir? Tech Sergeant Adams,” The airman introduced himself.

“What is it?” Reeves greeted him.

“Sir, me and some of the other techs made a temporary patch for your AdCam fatigues. We haven’t fixed all the bugs yet, but we can alter the pattern of your camo right now; you won’t be able to change it in the field with this patch, but we can at least get you something less conspicuous. We’ve just about fixed the bugs in the system - well, they're more like missing bits of code - and we should be done with it by morning. All the combat teams will be able to use their own camo in the field after that.”

“Great. How long would it take to switch my team’s fatigues to MultiCam?”

“Around eight seconds.”

“Do it.”

The gray digital camouflage pattern on the uniforms of four men changed, the pixels transitioning in color and rounding out to form the distinctive 7-color MultiCam they were used to wearing. Their armor, weapons and accessories remained the same colors as they were before.

Reeves had blue eyes, a light tan and thick black hair that went halfway down his neck, going below what a helmet would cover if he were wearing one. He hadn't shaved since they'd arrived, and consequently he'd grown some stubble.

“Dismissed.”

Reeves went to grab his gear when a dark gray - nearly black - unicorn mare with a messy silver mane and golden eyes approached him. Her cutie mark was a silver-colored quiver of arrows, and she carried a duffel bag in a golden field of magic. He turned his head to face her while he continued to walk.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m Artemis Arrow, the advisor you were told about. I’m going in with your team to assist your mission.”

He sighed. “You can’t just communicate with us from the helicopter?”

“I know you can communicate long distances, but I need to see what’s on the ground to do my best, and I can’t do that from inside one of your war beasts.”

“Got it. What can you tell me about the Everfree Castle?”

As Artemis began to explain, the other members of Viper Team began to gather around.

“The Everfree Castle is surrounded by a moat – well. it's more like a dry chasm now – and the only access is by an old bridge. To prevent incursions from the air - by pegasi and griffons for instance - there’s a magical ward above it that can only be disabled from within. The walls are a yard thick and made of stone. For a structure a thousand years old, it’s in pretty good shape. If we’re going in by air, we’ll have to start from a clearing nearby, then head through the forest itself.”

“What should we expect in the forest?” Staff Sergeant Robert Matsuo asked.

“Manticores aren’t in the Everfree this time of year and cockatrices aren’t either. Dragons don’t come that far south, and when they do they usually prefer mountains or deserts.”

“Oh, so we only have to worry about monsters besides dragons, chicken-snakes with a petrifying gaze and giant lions with wings and scorpion stingers?” Sergeant Jack Caputo asked sardonically.

Artemis ignored him.

“What’s the terrain like?”

“Footing is uneven, but there won't be any climbing. About two-thirds dense vegetation, one-third sparse vegetation, it rains a lot, plenty of obstacles and hazards, some nasty plants. That said, it’s actually unseasonably hot in most of Equestria right now, especially a rainforest like the Everfree. I wouldn’t wear anything heavy if I could avoid it. The only reason it’s cold here is because we’re closer to the ocean and on a mountain. When we approach the river we should watch out for kelpies, since they’re fairly common in the part of the forest near the castle. Juvenile hydras are known to stay in the forest before they grow full size and return to the water. In other words, there are a whole lot of unfriendly beasts.”

“Got it. Matsuo, Mk 48 and a Super Shorty. Caputo, Mk 17 with a standard barrel. Everyone else, Mk 17s with short barrels. Sidearms are up to you.” He looked back at Artemis with a small grin. “In other words, we’re equipping for close to medium range combat with tough hostiles. If you’re coming with us, what’s your kit?”

She opened the bag she was carrying and pulled out a button-down shirt and pony-fitted pants both patterned in what looked like an older Tigerstripe pattern, one that used olive-brown instead of a darker green. After putting them on, she pulled out a black, folding compound bow and a quiver of arrows and slung them over her back. A short sword went into a sheath as well.

“I’ve taken out a Manticore with this bow, and I can hit a target at a hundred fifty yards without much problem. Never killed anything that could think for itself before, though.”

“Well, if you're lucky you won't tonight. Viper Team, gear up, we’ll mount up in five. Artemis, follow me.” He led her to the team’s Black Hawk, which was undergoing final checks by the pilots. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He left her there, and true to his word he returned with haste, carrying weapons and equipment. Sliding open the door, he gestured for her to get in, which she reluctantly did.

“Is this thing safe to ride in?”

“Helicopters have been used in warfare for over half a century on Earth and about as long in civilian use. ”

“Look, I’m not going to pretend to understand half of what you and your buddies say, or that I even know what kind of animals these ‘helicopters’ are.”

“They’re not animals, they’re machines.”

“Right. Just like planets orbit the sun, plate armor is more flexible than chainmail, and owls are actually stupid.”

Reeves just stared.

“Relax, I’m just messing around. I’m just, y’know, doubtful because the whole idea seems impractical based on our technology, so that’s just a matter of perspective. I’m skeptical of a lot of things.”

“Oh. Well you almost made me think you were a kinda backwards-minded individual for a minute there, so nice work.”

“You were cruising for a rusing.”

“Alright boss, we’re on our way,” Reeves heard over his radio.

“Look, the rest of my team is coming now, so I'll cut to the chase. We’ll do the heavy lifting if-and-when we end up in combat, you hang back if that happens. Got it?”

“Got it.”

The rest of Viper Team entered the chopper. They’d followed Artemis’ advice, wearing lighter headgear and rolling up their sleeves to regulate heat.

“Condor, we’re onboard, let’s move!” Reeves shouted to the pilot.

“Copy, engines on!”

When Condor arrived at the LZ, they came to a hover just above the ground, low enough that Viper Team and Artemis were able to simply hop out of the helicopter. The clearing was bisected by a trickling stream whose water occupied only a small part of what the erosion around it indicated it could hold. The team followed it as they headed deeper into the forest. The trees closed in around them, and the humidity made the heat much more oppressive.

The seven of them continued on until their guide signaled them to stop. Running water could be heard nearby. That could mean a lot of things. They continued more carefully from there.

“So, how far to this castle?”

“About half a mile to the moat.”

The group made their way towards the castle in a silent run, approaching a clearing after a few minutes. Finally, the moonlight touched their skin as they came into sight of the ancient structure and took to their knees. It stood upon a plateau, with the only visible way to cross being a rickety-looking bridge.

“Yeah, that looks safe,” Caputo remarked.

Reeves pulled out a pair of binoculars, as did Artemis, while Caputo used the magnification of his ACOG to get a better view.

“Griffons?” Artemis muttered. Patrolling atop the walls of the castle were a few of them, carrying objects she didn’t recognize judging by her confused look.

“So those are a real thing here. They sapient?”

“Yeah, so are diamond dogs, minotaurs, buffalo, some dragons and animals, and a lot of other things.”

“That’s just great,” Raynor grumbled. “More critters to worry about.”

“Don't worry so much about it, most of ‘em aren't in Equestria,” Artemis reassured them. “Although griffons are a warrior race, so you might want to be careful. On top of that, I don’t know what they’re doing or carrying, and I’d bet they’re guarding that castle. I’ve only got five-power magnification on my binoculars, so I can’t really help much.”

“Same,” Caputo agreed. “Sharp vision is great, but it sure as hell isn’t a replacement for optics.”

Reeves grabbed a pair of binoculars and flipped a switch to unlock the zoom and focus knobs, adjusting them as he gazed towards the griffons.

Their fur and feathers seemed to be a mix of colors, perhaps equivalent to different races or corresponding to different birds of prey. Maybe both. They also wore some sort of clothes, a uniform it looked like. Changing the focus, the uniform pattern itself looked like the Belgian brushstroke pattern. Their weapons were FN FAL 50.63s, the paratrooper model. Those were no trouble identifying.

“Things just got more complicated. The griffons are using paratrooper FALs, somehow they got their claws on human weaponry.”

“Maybe the tech got here the same sort of way we did?” Matsuo suggested.

“I guess.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how much of a problem is that?” Artemis asked.

“Maybe a four,” Caputo said.

“Not a big problem, but this definitely complicates things. We’ve been up against worse,” Raynor added. “The FAL is nice gun, but it's kinda dated and hasn’t aged as well as the AK design. On the heavy side too, but lighter than an M14 or a G3. It’d be useful here for sure.”

“Artemis, how sturdy do you think that bridge is?”

“I’d say the weakest part is the rope, but it should be able to hold us all.”

“Alright, I think I’ve figured out the guards’ movement patterns. On my mark we're gonna double-time across the bridge. Three, two, one, mark!”

The five of them moved across the fifty-foot bridge with all the haste they could manage, each worried that the aged passage would fall apart beneath them. After thirty seconds, they’d all cleared the bridge except for Reeves.

The snap they’d all been dreading came, and one of the ropes snapped from the near posts it was tied to, tilting the bridge sideways. Reeves was fast enough to avoid falling to his death, grabbing onto the rope with both hands while his weapon hung on its sling. If he screamed or shouted, he’d have attracted attention from the guards and endangered his team. So he kept quiet.

A golden field of magic interrupted that train of thought as it enveloped him, lifting him up and bringing him to the others, where he saw that it was Artemis that had just saved him. Upon reaching the ground, he breathed a sigh of relief and got to his feet.

***

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Reeves took hardly a second to collect himself from that close call. “Okay, what do you know about the interior?”

“Nopony’s been in there for a long time. I’ve got no idea what’s inside. If I had to guess, I’d say they’re doing whatever they’re doing in the courtyard. Hold on, let me grab a map the Princess gave me.”

She took a map from her saddlebag and unfolded it. The outer wall of the compound was shaped like an irregular hexagon, with the bridge they’d crossed on the southwest side. The northwest side was the only wall that had only a single room separating it from the courtyard within the structure.

Viper team moved along the wall. Their guide was noticably confused when he stopped in the middle of the largely featureless stone wall.

“There isn’t a damned secret passage, we’re wasting time.”

They ignored her.

"Brooks, re-arrange some architecture."

A dark-skinned member of the team pulled out a brick of some sort, sticking it on the wall. He poked a few spots on a small black and white panel and motioned for everypony to get back. Artemis did what he wanted and he took cover behind a large rock, though she was the closest to the wall. A few moments later, deafening thunder slammed her ears, followed by ringing.

“Move in!” Reeves led the charge as his team rushed through the smoke and dust the blast had kicked up. For her part, Artemis fell to the ground and groaned as she watched the humans rush towards chaos.

Quickly, she recomposed herself and followed them in, doing her best to ignore the pain in her ears. Coughing as she accidentally inhaled the fine particles the explosion, she continued until she could see the window to the courtyard, where she leapt over it and hid behind a rock near the others. Viper Team took cover nearby behind fallen pillars in the courtyard. It sounded like every one of the weapons in use spat thunder, and it was especially bad since she was nearby four of them.

Matsuo’s weapon spat extended bursts of fire, with yellow streaks darting out from many of the flashes. The others fired shorter bursts and single shots. For every blast their weapons made, a hot brass object flew from the side of the weapon, a few of them landing on her. Similar streaks flew by their area.

“Raynor, gunner on the east side, take him out!” Reeves yelled.

The masked man pointed his weapon outside and took aim. A couple seconds later, his weapon boomed, and the hail slowed.

“Put some HE in those positions, make sure they’re clear,” He added, gesturing to several locations across the courtyard and atop the walls.

Raynor quickly switched to a strange looking implement that looked like it was built around a drum. Taking aim, his weapon sounded a deep thump, and a split-second later an explosion rang in the distance. He repeated the process three more times before stopping. An eerie silence permeated the area.

“Reloading,” He said, swinging out the drum and pulling out four empty cylinders before replacing them, leaving two untouched.

Another one popped up and aimed a long weapon at them. Without thinking, Artemis drew back her bow and loosed an arrow. The projectile travelled through the air for a split-second before burrowing in the target’s skull.

She didn’t feel much at all for the griffon she killed. Should she have? Probably, since she’d just ended a life. But the absence of emotion didn’t bother her much.

“You look pretty bad,” Reeves said to her.

“Thanks, but I’m fine.” She’d been worse.

"Okay. Alright, what do you think is the source of the spell keeping our helicopter out?”

She peeked out and lit her horn alight, searching for a magically charged object. Everything became gray-tinted in her tracker’s sight spell as she tuned her senses to search for an artifact, save for a statue of an unidentified alicorn that glowed yellow. Searching for other traces of energy, she found a trail that seemed to lead underground.

Blinking hard, she returned her vision to normal, which erased the thin, transparent golden field that surrounded her eyes. Pointing at the artifact, she frowned.

“The statue in the center is projecting the ward. Don’t destroy it yet though, it might tip off anypony downstairs.”

She leapt through the window with her bow at the ready, and the humans followed her. They formed a circle of vision, all of them searching for enemies. A quick use of her spell and she concluded there was nopony nearby. Oddly enough, the humans didn’t light up at all in her vision, perhaps because they had no intrinsic magical signature unlike all living creatures and most objects on Equis.

“We’re clear,” Raynor said. The humans all lowered their weapons.

“Check the bodies for identifying markings,” Reeves ordered.

He and Artemis examined the sculpture as the others combed through the area. Kneeling in front of it, the soldier brushed away filth on the plaque.

“‘This statue stands as a reminder to all, of the-’ It’s too damaged to read. Looks like someone defaced it a long time ago, probably even before the castle was completely abandoned,” He guessed.

The huntress didn’t recognize the pony it featured. It didn’t seem to be Princess Celestia at all; the mane was a faded black and the eyes a pale blue. It didn't match any royalty she knew of, so she brushed the confusion off.

Probably supposed to be a symbol, not an actual pony.

“I found one with a marked uniform, cut the patch off,” Raynor announced. He trotted over to them and let the piece of fabric hang from his hand. “No radios, so any of their buddies might think that their guys won the firefight if we keep quiet.”

The patch read “SOG”. When Artemis saw that patch, she grimaced.

“What’s the matter?” Matsuo asked.

“I’ve run into this group before, they're butchers. The rest doesn’t matter right now. Follow me, I’ve traced path to the Aegis Gate they’re opening.”

The Special Observation Group was officially a group of scouts and bodyguards for hire, but it was an open secret they were a paramilitary force. They were a group that might’ve belonged to a larger entity, or perhaps not, but if they did they were fairly skilled at maintaining plausible deniability.

She’d had experiences with them in the past. Nasty ones she’d always remember. Now things seemed to be in her favor.

Artemis slung her bow and drew a shortsword.

“Alright, lead the way,” Reeves ordered.

The seven of them headed downstairs in a staggered line, Artemis in front. One by one, they descended a spiral staircase into the chambers beneath the castle.

The walls were made of rounded stones and mortar, creating a bumpy and irregular surface. In several places, patches of moss could be found growing on the walls, ceiling and floor. Water dripped from cracks with metronomic precision into small puddles. The only illumination was provided by dimly-lit crystals positioned every five yards on the ceiling.

The passages were damp and quiet, with the occasional skittering of small creatures breaking the silence. The lack of noise only heightened the tension for them, as they became attuned to every sound and movement besides their own silent stalking, which would usually send them into a battle-ready state until they realized what the source of the noise was.

After cautiously proceeding down the eerily silent halls for several minutes, they came to a fork.

“Not sure which one’ll take us to the Gate faster,” Artemis said. “We don’t have much time left, and one of them might be a dead end.”

“Better safe than sorry. Raynor, Brooks, Matsuo, Montes, down the right. Caputo, Artemis and I will take the left. Move.”

They separated and headed through tunnels that wound back and forth, or at least Artemis and Reeves’ tunnels did.

It felt like an hour before they found an old wooden door, through which speech could be heard.

“French?” Reeves whispered.

“…They’re talking about why they’re here. It sounds like the group’s leader is in there, hold on.” She used tracker's sight spell again. “The leader is wearing a red pauldron,” She said.

“How many?”

She glanced around, putting extra focus on the spell to observe with more clarity.

“It looks like… Seven of them. None of them have those large thundersticks, but they do have some small L-shaped objects. The tumblers on the door's lock aren't engaged, so you could just open the door.”

"They're speaking French, maybe they'll just give up," Caputo joked.

“Wait," Reeves interjected "The others found the chamber with the Gate… Brooks says there’s twelve griffons and a unicorn mare that’s powering it up.”

“The mage probably knows something, the others probably don’t. Tell them that, and to smack her horn while she’s using her magic, that’ll knock her out for a while. When a unicorn uses a spell, their horn glows, so they’ll know.”

“Brooks. Take out the guards and capture the mage. Smack the unicorn’s horn while it’s glowing, that should KO her. Out.”

“How do you suggest we do this?” Artemis asked. “Since that’s probably their leader in there, I’m guessing we want him alive,”

“Flash and clear. We’ll kill the others, disable and capture the leader.” He got in position in front of it. “Raynor, prep a flash. Artemis, you may want to cover your ears this time.”

Raynor took a small cylinder from one of the pouches on his chest and pulled a ring from it, holding a lever down with his thumb. Reeves opened the door and his teammate tossed in the cylinder. A flash and thunder came from in the room, and they stormed in.

Reeves and Raynor stormed in and fired two shots each into five of the griffons. Each one had blood fly from their back and splatter the walls, all before they could grab a weapon. Another one fired and hit Reeves in the chest, stunning him for a split second, long enough for the officer to charge him. Raynor fired and took down the shooter.

Reeves took a left hook and a slash at his arm before he managed to draw his knife and drive it into his attacker’s spine. He yanked the blade out and pushed the mostly-paralyzed officer off of him, sheathing the knife and grabbing his weapon.

“Tell what you’re doing here,” The victor growled.

The griffon just sputtered.

“Damn it. C’mon, let’s regroup and bug out. After the adrenaline wears off, my chest’ll hurt like hell.”

The group formed up at the fork they’d separated at and headed back to the courtyard, one unconscious unicorn in tow with her hooves bound. With no pretense of stealth to adhere to, they made it through the eerie passages quickly.

After returning to the surface, Brooks planted a small object similar to what destroyed the wall onto statue projecting the ward. Poking a panel on it a few times, he motioned for the others to get back. After the group retreated, it obliterated the statue in a burst of heat and sound. This time, Artemis had the sense to cover her ears.

A minute later, their helicopter descended into the courtyard so that they could enter, kicking up a cloud of dirt as it descended. They entered the vehicle, Montes shutting the door behind them once they were all in, and looking over Reeves' injuries.

Artemis cast a spell bound their captive’s legs together and sheathed her horn in a preventative ward. Another one ensured she wouldn’t awake for another 24 hours unless somepony cast a counter-spell to wake her.

“She’s not gonna be much trouble now,” Artemis said. Looking around, the humans seemed calm, but not relaxed, most of them keeping an eye on their prisoner.

***

Canterlot Castle
23:55
October 12, 1196 CE
Day 1

The Ghosts’ aerial war beast touched down in the humans’ private wing of the Canterlot Garden shortly before midnight. As soon as the Princess’ Royal Guard informed her of the creature approaching, she immediately headed to the garden to see it down.

The rotary wings of the animal touched down and began to slow, emitting a peculiar whine as they did. The side facing her opened, and the humans piled out, one of them helping the injured Calliope down.

The honey-hued mare stumbled a bit, and shoved off the human helping her with one of her wings. When she saw the Princess, she immediately bowed, though she had a bit of trouble getting back up.

“I wasn’t sure he was telling the truth about you, Your Majesty, but I suppose I was wrong,” She said. “Where am I staying?”

“You’ll be staying in the Castle, with doctors to help you recover from your injuries. The last thing I want is to put any strain on you after your ordeal. My guards will see you to your room.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” A pair of guards led her to her room, while Captain Mitchell and Princess Celestia headed their own way. The two leaders silently strolled towards a small balcony on a cliff overlooking the city.

The marble buildings below them emitted a faint glow, reflecting the moonlight and the light from within the city. Streetlamps, candles in shops, lanterns and lightbulbs in buildings, they all gave it a faint glow of its own, a warm glow of life that contrasted the cold moonlight.

The lights from within the buildings below seemed to go out, one by one as midnight came around. Everypony had stayed up reasonably late, and now they chose to sleep in preparation for the coming day.

“All those ponies down there, living out their lives. Do they really think turning off their lights makes them any safer?” Mitchell wondered aloud. “Like a little kid who thinks if he shuts his eyes, no-one can see him.”

“And we can’t tell them things have changed, can we?”

“No, we can’t…”

They stood there in the cold, still mountain air.

“Tell me something Captain.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“How do you handle taking others’ lives? Knowing that each death is the end of the world for the individual in question? That they’ll never think, breathe or feel again because of you?”

“… The first time, you never forget. But you get used to it after a while, because it’s what has to be done.”

“I wish I could say ponies are more peaceful, but every day I hear of the things done outside Equestria and I feel ashamed that I did nothing.”

“There’s no reason for you to. You have you hooves full keeping your own country as well-off as it is. Someday you’ll be able to help stop these conflicts. Maybe someday soon.”

“And what of your world? You claimed it was at least twice as harsh as ours was last night.”

“It’s harsh for sure, with every type of environment having some kind of threat to humans. Some of it is because of us, directly or indirectly, and some of it is just beyond our control. And with those problems in mind, remember we don’t have magic, flight or extraordinary strength like this planet’s inhabitants, so almost all of what we’ve accomplished as a species is a result of our minds. But on the physical side, our endurance, shock resistance and ability to recover from injury is absurdly high compared to any other animal.”

He crossed his arms.

“But as harsh as it is, Earth’s more peaceful than it has been at any time in recorded history, even though there are tensions and conflicts around the globe. Knowing how far we’ve come as a species and how much we’ve accomplished in just the last century is… It’s more than a bit comforting after everything I’ve seen.”

Celestia had known from the start that what she had was a very small picture of what humans were like. Judging their species seemed unfair, with the only examples she had being members of a single, narrow occupation.

She’d have to ask about their culture sometime, to see if they had any films, music, or literary works to help her better understand humanity, and more importantly their country.

After all, if a way to return them home was found, it would likely result in a way to communicate with their nation. They would probably rely on stable magical portals being created to bridge their worlds, and with well-adjusted techniques they could be made permanent with relative ease.

But then, that was in the future, and assumed that they could find a link to the humans' world. The only future she needed to focus on at the moment was Equestria's future..

For now, she needed to understand the humans she was cooperating with, to know them better.

“You spoke before as if you had a family,” She stated, a desire to know this particular individual better taking hold.

“My mom died when I was young, and my dad worked long hours as the foreman of a General Motors plant in the next town over. Being the oldest child I was the de facto man of the house and I had to look out for two brothers and a sister. Two of them are married now, and the other one is engaged. We turned out pretty good, I suppose.”

“And you already know about my sister,” Celestia said with some woe.

“It wasn’t your fault. You did what you had to.”

“I hope so. I can’t stand the thought that there might’ve been another way.”

“Eternal night on one side of the world would mean eternal day on the other. The day side would get a lot hotter and suffer droughts, while the night would get a lot colder and plants would die off. The only habitable areas would be where the two met. You prevented an apocalyptic event.”

Celestia had never spent much time considering the longer-term effects of Nightmare Moon having her way in much detail, just the panic, unrest and tyranny Equestria would have experienced. She'd been busy enough with other things for centuries that she relatively had little time except at night, and she'd become more and more likely over the centuries to criticize herself and her decisions than to try and soothe her conscience.

They began going over the mission he’d completed, and after Reeves’ team returned and were debriefed, and their unconscious passenger was taken into custody, they all settled down for the night.

***

Canterlot Castle
04:30
October 13, 1196
Day 2

Scott woke up drenched in sweat. He hadn’t had that particular nightmare in a while.

Inside the castle, he’d been given a room to sleep in for the night. One with an excellent bed, a private balcony, adjoining bathroom, running water, the works. Now he’d soiled the sheets with his sweat. Getting to his feet, he went to take a quick shower.

As he waited for the water to warm up, he tried to clear his head. The “what-ifs” wouldn’t leave, as much as he wanted them to. Finally, he showered before getting dressed and heading outside for early morning exercise.

Author's Note

"Bulletproof vests" are really a continuum of ballistic protection, not a single category. "Soft armor" vests mainly provide protection against lower velocity rounds, like those fired from most handguns. American military vests use a mixture of aramid fibers (like Kevlar) and ceramic plates for stopping rifle rounds, which together weigh in at around 30 pounds for the standard Army-issue IOTV and about the same for the Marine-issue MTV (some units, special operations forces especially, use lighter vests that sacrifice some coverage for mobility). And these plates only provide a certain level of protection, depending on how they're made.

A Level-IV plate is rated to withstand at least one round of .30-06 armor-piercing ammunition and anything lower. Currently-issued plates can stop tungsten core AP rounds even though those aren't exactly common, and most have some multi-hit capability. The protection issue then becomes one of light weight and comfort vs coverage. A lot of servicemembers have been coming back from Afghanistan with back problems because of all the gear (weapons, ammo, armor, food, and other supplies and equipment) they're lugging around on patrols, quite often over 100 pounds.

In any case, no matter how high the protection rating is because being shot while wearing a vest still hurts like hell. The plates work by distributing the force of an impact across the body, and lining behind the plate protects the wearer from the ceramic plate's own fragmentation. That means that a hole a bullet would punch through an unarmored person becomes a blunt force. For instance, a .45 ACP bullet imparts momentum on the target the same as a 1-pound weight dropped from 11.4 feet; not enough to stop a charging man even if all the energy was dumped up front.

6. Third Party

Canterlot Castle
08:00
October 13, 1196 CE
Day 2

While Calliope rested in her bed and recovered from her injuries, Captain Mitchell entered the holding room containing the unicorn mage captured during Viper Team’s operation the previous night. Equipped with just his Crosscom monocle, his tactical vest and his sidearm because of the low threat, he entered the room. He felt he didn’t need a helmet indoors, so he’d left it in his room.

Crystals were placed in every corner of the room, and in the center of each wall, the ceiling, and the floor, making for fourteen in total. They were supposedly magic siphoning crystals, which would disrupt the unicorn’s ability to use magic as long as he was inside.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Mitchell said, lightly slapping the snoozing pony’s head. She sat up quickly and looked around.

“Where- Nevermind,” The yellow mare said. She became surprisingly confident almost immediately. Or seemed to, at least.

“Alright, then you probably know why I’m here.”

“To interrogate me of course. Which might get you something except for one little thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That’s a lie and we both know it.”

“I’ll give you my name: Apate. And since you’re some kind of law enforcement, you can’t hold me without a charge,” The mage pushed smugly.

Or maybe she’s stalling. But what’d she be doing that for?

“Not gonna happen, Apate. See, you aren’t officially here, and neither am I. That means I have carte blanche on what I want to do with you. Guards?”

Two Royal Guards entered, stern looks on their faces. He intended to show that their hosts wouldn’t get in the way if he went to an extreme, and might even help.

Scare tactics usually work pretty well, a lot better than torture.

She grinned and lit her horn up like the sun. The crystals on the walls hummed with growing frequency and exploded. The room fell apart, and its occupants fell into crystalline caverns beneath the room. Landing clumsily, Mitchell and the two guards looked around for their captive and saw her running around a corner.

“I thought that room nullified magic?” He asked, drawing his HK45T as he and his companions chased the mage. He fired a couple of shots, but a bright green shield stopped the bullets cold.

“She must’ve held her magic back, then put a large amount into the crystals at once. It was too much of a shock for them to handle,” One of them explained.

“She overloaded them? Clever.”

They rounded a corner and got hit by blasts of energy, knocking them to the floor.

“Everypony dies sometime,” She taunted. “But you will before me!”

Getting back to his feet, he sprinted forwards before turning back to look at his allies. They got to their hooves, their eyes changed to glowing emerald pools. They snarled at him and fired bolts of magic, seemingly brainwashed.

“Not so simple now, is it?”

A bolt of green magic struck him in the back and knocked him against the walls. The guards-turned-minions fired their own cyan magic at him, only for it to bounce off the walls and ricochet wildly around the room.

Scott rushed at the two guards, dodging spells from three ponies with a serpentine path. Once he got close enough, one of the guards tried to kick him. Sidestepping the attack, he wrapped his arm around the pair of legs and threw him into the other guard with enough force to stun them.

It seemed that by stunning them, he’d stunned the mare controlling them.

I must’ve overloaded her senses.

He took the chance to fire a few shots at her, targeting her legs. Her shield flattened the rounds on impact. However, the ward’s luminescence was weaker than the previous time.

The trio of ponies amassed light around their horns, then fired a spread of energy that covered the whole room. Scott dove to the ground to avoid the blasts, which ricocheted around the room, bouncing off of floors and walls. The bubble-like shield that guarded Apate absorbed several of them, dimming slightly with each impact.

Pushing himself off the ground, the Ghost put himself between the drones and the mage and goaded the lackeys into attacking him.

Their horns practically ablaze with magic, they rushed at him. At the last second he rolled out of the way, letting them collide with their master. It sounded and looked like a flashbang had gone off, and the three ponies went flying. The guards landed in a corner, unconscious from the blast.

Apate slid away for her part, some of her fur singed. Using her momentum to assist her, she got to her hooves and fled deeper into the crystal caves.

Scott put a finger to his Crosscom monocle. “Can anyone hear me?”

“Scott, I’m getting some interference, but I hear you. We heard an explosion in the room you were in. What’s going on?” Rosen responded.

“The prisoner, Apate, overloaded the crystals with her magic and used the blast to open an entrance to some kind of crystal caves under this part of the castle. She took control of the two guards with a mind control spell or something, but I knocked them out. I’m in pursuit, heading deeper into the caves.”

“Copy, I’ll send some of the Ghosts down there to assist.”

“Negative, I can’t risk her turning them, too. Get those guards out and keep some backup ready in case things change. If you can get me some intel on this place, good. Otherwise, keep the comms clear. Out.”

Pistol in hand, he followed the sound of hoofbeats deeper into the caves. He couldn’t afford to lose one of their only two leads, or let somepony compromise the humans’ existence. Rounding a corner, he came to a large room resembling a mining pit, and with structures to match too. In the pit itself and the far side of the chamber. dozens of copies of Apate lined the area, each with a red diamond superimposed on them on his Crosscom.

“You might as well-”

"-give up now-"

“-you're out of you're depth!” The mirages mocked him. There was no delay, no change in tone or pitch as the one talking changed. It was like a single piece of audio that was switched between identical speakers spread around the room.

The illusions began firing bolts of magic at Mitchell, and to his dismay they all fired “live” rounds, each one digging pits in the ceiling and walls as it hit.

He took cover behind a long-dead furnace. Bolts of energy flew around the sides and impacted the object itself, though the metal was sturdy enough that it didn’t give an inch to any amount of impacts.

While he tried to figure out a plan, Scott glanced at his HUD’s ammunition counter. He’d fired five rounds from his current magazine so far, leaving five in the magazine and one in the chamber. He had five spare 10-round magazines for his HK45T.

One of the clones approached, trying to flank him. He raised the pistol in a flash and double-tapped the mare’s chest. The first shot had a ripple effect, distorting its body, and the second disrupted it enough that it faded out of existence.

Peeking around the corner, he activated his monocle’s FLIR filter, illuminating the room and highlighting enemies in red. But that was exactly the problem: there were still more than one.

“Rosen?”

“Scott, the area you’re in was a mine a few hundred years ago, but when the castle was built the Canterlot’s economy shifted from mining to services, and it was abandoned.”

“Fascinating.” A bolt of energy flew dangerously close to him. “Is Princess Celestia there? What about Twilight?”

“What do you need, Captain?” The regent responded.

“I’m pinned down, and Apate made a couple dozen copies of herself. They’re pretty well synchronized and they can all attack me. They all give off heat like normal ponies too, so I can’t tell which one’s the real one.”

“That’s a high-level duplication spell. Hmm… They’re illusions, so they aren’t physically solid, just made of magical energy, which would explain why they give off heat.”

He glanced at the tactical light mounted under his pistol’s barrel.

“Would the copies have shadows?”

“No, but unless you have a strong light source, that doesn’t seem like it’d work.”

“I’ll know in a few seconds.”

He flicked on the light and leaned around the corner. Sweeping the light across the area, he hoped to spot a figure with a shadow before the enemies could react. He didn't see any shadows as he swept the light across the chamber, but in the far corner, he spotted a shadow. In his peripheral vision, he saw a green glow coming from the clones’ horns. Scott fired.

Because of the distance he made the shot from and how much of a hurry he was in to avoid getting blasted by the clones' attacks, he missed. However, the bullet was close enough to disrupt Apate’s concentration, causing the duplicates of her to vanish. She fled deeper into the mine and Scott followed, swapping magazines as he ran.

In a fairly narrow corridor, he dodged the occasional blast of magic she fired at him, continuing until she reached another room. This one was simply a wider hall with piles of ore on the sides, alternating in their position. The far side was a dead end.

I have her cornered, and I have good cover.

Orbs of green energy began to fly in his direction once again, this time with arcing trajectories. When they impacted, they released waves of heat, warping and cracking the crystal.

One of them hummed over his head, prompting him to sprint forward to the next pile of ore, diving just in time to avoid the blast. He pressed his back against the pile, waited for the next orb to fly and repeated the process.

Apate was just around the corner, and as soon as she loosed the next blast the Ghost bolted out and shot her flank to disable her, convinced it was the only way to stop her resistance without killing her, but then, he didn't know enough about pony anatomy to be sure. As the mare fell on her injured side and blood pooled around her, he holstered his weapon. He knelt next to her, hoping to get something useful before she bled out.

Damn it, I must’ve hit an artery!

“Talk, and I’ll help you out.”

“The Strangers… They wanted to start an incident. Planted evidence against the AWT and made it look like a major player in Helia was complicit in their attack against the CECS. So the CECS wanted a way to get spies and paramilitary forces into the heart of the continent to verify that, and strike if need be. They know Equestria isn’t involved, but there are already cells in place throughout the continent.”

“Why are you telling me this?” It was too easy.

“I’m dying, and I don’t owe the Strangers anything. So go, destroy them. That’s your role…” Her eyes glossed over and her breathing stopped.

He got up and left her body behind in the depths of the crystal caverns, finding no reason to carry her all the way back. She’d lost too much blood.

***

Captain Mitchell explained the circumstances to Celestia, the officers, and a few of the ponies aware of the situation. He was clearly disappointed in the fate of their prisoner.

“But she did give me something useful. She said the Strangers were behind this. They planted evidence against something called the AWT and made a major player on this continent look like they were in on in an alleged attack against the CECS. The CECS used the Aegis Gate to pipe in spies and paramilitaries into the center of the continent, so they could spread out and gather intel, and strike if they had to,” He explained. “They know Equestria isn’t involved, but there are still cells across the continent.”

“So they control the Special Observation Group and they’re framing the AWT…” Artemis repeated with a grimace.

“You know something about them?”

“…I know a few things.”

“Like?”

“They’re a group of nations in Selenia, the southwestern continent. The name stands for Allied Western Territories, because they make up the western part of the Selenia. They’re a rival to the Confederated Eastern City-States, which take up the eastern part,” She explained.

"How come we've never heard about these countries before?"

“Selenia was originally colonized under my parents’ rule, but after they died… After they died their support was cut off and they were forced to fend for themselves. They’ve been distrustful of those outside their continent ever since,” Princess Celestia added.

“And the CECS are the ones behind the incursion last night,” Reeves said. “Are we going after them?”

“No. They’re not an immediate threat, because I believe Apate that they’ve got no reason to attack Equestria. If we suspect they may take hostile action against Equestria, we’ll act. Until then, they’re a group we need to keep an eye on. We’ll wait for more information from Calliope, then we’re focusing on the Strangers.”

“I agree with the Captain’s assessment. They may have been reckless in opening an Aegis Gate, but there was no clear indication of active malice against Equestria in any of Viper Team’s reports,” The Princess concurred.

“Alright,” Reeves conceded.

“Until Calliope finishes her debrief or we get actionable intelligence from another source, we aren’t planning any operations. I want her under constant watch until her recovery, and a patrol passing her guards every five to ten minutes. Security spells are a must. Clear?”

Shining Armor nodded.

“Dismissed.” The group dispersed, while Celestia and Mitchell stayed behind.

“Captain. I’ve been wondering about your world, your country. I’d like to know if you or your comrades have any literature or other media I could use to get a better understanding of human culture.”

“I’m sure someone brought some books and movies. Definitely music. Since there aren’t any operations planned a movie night sounds good.”

“Speaking of which, the team working on sending you and your people home has been assembled and instructed. They’ll begin work on Project Odyssey tomorrow.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell the unit to take a vote on movies and plan for a movie night, plus tell them that your team finding us a way home is beginning shortly. I’m guessing you’ll want a few other ponies with you to share the experience.”

“Yes. I’ve got just the room, assuming you have a film projector.”

“We’ve got a few. Normally they’re for briefings, but given the situation there’s no reason we can’t use it for movies once in a while. It could help with morale too, and since we’ll probably be here a while… I’ll get back to you on the movie situation. Anything else?”

“There are a lot of questions about humanity among those of us who know you’re here. I was wondering if you could hold an informal question and answer session for our sake.”

“I’ll look into it.”

***

There were some humans who’d chosen not to watch the movie, citing various reasons. Still, this was the first chance these ponies had to glimpse human society, and for many of the individuals working on finding them a way home, it was their first time seeing the humans at all. It seemed that the tradition of gathering to watch a film was something shared between their cultures.

A brief question and answer session covered some of the things the ponies wondered about them, such as their beasts actually being machines, the surprisingly light militarization of their society, their lack of control over the weather, and their lack of magic.

After that, the movie began. It was a fine film for them, showcasing a slice of American history. Much of what was seen seemed remarkably futuristic to them, and that the most modern aspects of the film only replicated the human world three decades before made it much more impressive.

Who knew what life was like on Earth in the present, with all the advances in their lifestyle? It would’ve been an intriguing place to visit.

Canterlot Castle
05:55
October 14, 1196 CE
Day 3

The next morning, just before dawn, Celestia woke at her usual time to hoofbeats outside her door. After donning her shoes, necklace and crown, she opened the door, and found both Captain Mitchell standing and Twilight pacing there, wearing a saddlebag. The Ghost seemed preoccupied with a tablet-like object of some sort.

“Oh, Princess! I didn’t mean to wake you,” The teenage mare said sheepishly.

“It’s quite alright,” She answered. “I was due to raise the sun in a few minutes anyway. Care to join me?”

The two of them nodded, and followed her out to her private balcony. Mitchell attached his tablet to his hip.

As the Princess approached the edge of the balcony, facing east, and shut her eyes. She let magical energy pulsate within her, flowing through her body until she was enveloped with a golden glow, the sun’s essence flowing through her like liquid. Picturing a void, she mentally projected a circle of light rising from behind an object that encompassed the bottom half of the void. That sun rising over the horizon disappeared as she opened her eyes.

She felt the warmth of the sun, her ancient companion and closest friend, wash over her like the sea. Light peeked over the horizon, the golden disc rising now that its trip had been started. She continued to guide it, raising her head with the light, giving it the energy and direction to rise and set on its own. She put enough of her energy into it that it could run itself for a while without her. But that was what she did every day, slowly building up enough magic that the sun would handle itself if she were ever unable to do it herself for some reason.

The glow over her body ceased as she severed her thaumatic connection to the sun, the magic returning to her heart and horn.
Twilight looked on in awe, as did Mitchell, though he attempted to hide it.

“Alright then. You wanted to speak with me?”

The soldier stepped back and let the student speak first.

“A courier arrived this morning. She crashed into my window and woke me up, then told me to get this to you.” The young mare used her magic to open a pouch on her saddlebag, and pulled out an envelope. It had a faint sepia tint, and was stamped shut with a red wax seal. The seal was of a griffon rampant in front of a shield and a pair of crossed spears.

“The Griffon Kingdom…” She muttered. “The trade negotiations aren’t supposed to be for another six days.” The regent opened the letter and read what was within.

To Her Majesty Princess Celestia,

As you know, my caravan was to make several overnight stops in the southern reaches of my Kingdom before arriving in your capitol. However, some minor unrest there has prompted me to cancel those stops, meaning that I will arrive in Canterlot today, likely by mid-afternoon. I regret the belated notice, but you must understand that I had little choice. Prepare quarters for both I and my usual entourage within your castle.

Some other matters must be discussed as well, but those will be discussed over dinner.

Cordially,
His Omnipotence King Agamemnon

She read it again, this time aloud. Afterwards, she set it down on a nearby table.

Mitchell crossed his arms. “My people are in an isolated section of the castle, and likewise for the garden, right?” He asked.

“Yes. They’ve been maintained, but unused for hundreds of years. The part of the garden your people are in is actually the most unimpressive part and masked by an illusion spell to prevent your discovery from the air. You’ll be isolated enough that there’s no chance of you being discovered, but you’ll need to stay there. Your vehicles also risk drawing attention from the delegation if you use them.”

“As long as we’re on the subject of the Griffon Kingdom, there’s something we found out. We continued interviewing Calliope yesterday, and she had her own version of the events in the south of the Kingdom, which is a treasure trove of news. The ‘minor unrest’ Agamemnon is talking about? He’s got a Caucasus-style armed separatist movement on his hands that he clearly doesn't want to talk about, and our reporter friend provided intel that the Strangers or a similar - maybe affiliated organization - are behind it. It didn’t seem like a worthwhile lead, since it seemed like something the SOG would do. But the more I thought about it, the less it matched up. The CECS wanted units in place to act against the AWT, but neither group would gain by supporting this insurgency unless the other was an extremely staunch ally of the griffon government. The Strangers’ goal of creating a new order does line up with that report.”

“Wait a minute. An ‘affiliated organization’?” Twilight repeated, curious. “You think there might be a group allied with the Strangers?”

“That’s the thing. They use similar strategies, but their execution is a lot more modern, tactics and equipment especially. That means that either there are prioritized units within the Strangers with better training and equipment, there are logistics problems, or there’s a different group under the same umbrella. If the first part was true, then that attack on us would’ve been by armed Strangers. If the second was true, then their commander is an idiot for sending underprepared assassins, which is pretty unlikely given how secret this group is. If the third is the case, then these forces might be a more typical SOF unit rather than assassins.”

Maybe the Strangers who attacked us were set up to fail from the start?

“Do you think it might be the same group Viper Team encountered the other night?” The Princess asked. “In other words, unrelated to the Strangers?”

“It’s possible, if the Griffon Kingdom is considered a threat to the CECS. But as far as we know the CECS and AWT are being played, and we don’t have any evidence that they’re actively threatening Equestria. Those two factions have nothing to gain from destabilizing a region as far as we know, but the Strangers definitely do. If we can learn more about that insurgency and what’s going on there…”

“Then we can figure out who they are whether they’re connected to the Strangers,” Celestia finished.

“Or whether this continent is being used by the CECS and AWT as another front in their own Cold War, with Strangers encouraging that discord,” Mitchell concluded. “If that’s the case, we may be looking at three distinct threats.”

“How are we going to prove this? You can’t fly over to their capital or these conflict areas, or anywhere at all while they’re here in the castle, not without your vehicles drawing their attention,” Twilight interjected. “If you can’t even leave the castle, how are we going to get that information?”

The Ghost put his fist on his chin for a moment, then grinned.

“We don’t need to. They’re bringing it to us on a silver platter.”

Celestia caught his drift. “His daily briefings.”

“So you’ll have to sneak into his quarters and get pictures of his briefing documents?”

“Exactly. But unless I know his schedule, whoever goes in might get caught, which will draw their attention and potentially make them search the entire grounds.”

“I’ll have Twilight send you any information we have after the dignitaries arrive.”

The student left after a few minutes, saying something about her studies for the day. The officer and the goddess stayed behind.

The princess sighed ruefully. “I can’t help but wonder if I’m doing the right thing. Breaking the trust of another leader is a reprehensible act itself, but to lead them on while their privacy is violated, smiling all the while… It’s impossible for me not to have misgivings.”

I guess Celestia really is a straight arrow. She’s kept her country at peace for a thousand years and she’s had regrets about this whole conflict so far. That’s a strong moral compass, but it doesn't leave a lot of room for pragmatism.

“Ma’am, sometimes you have to do the wrong thing for the right reasons. It’s as simple as that. I can’t tell you how to cope, but you’ll find a way.”

A half-hour later, Mitchell returned to the camp after informing the men and women under his command of the impending visit from foreign diplomats via his Crosscom and word-of-mouth. He also asked to speak to Josh Rosen. The officer met him near one of the bottomless tents and ushered him inside.

“What do you need, Captain?” Rosen asked.

The captain laid down a floor plan of the wing of the castle Agamemnon and his cronies would be staying in.

“Alright then. It’s going to be a solo sneaking operation. Inside the castle, there’s enough cover that I might be able to hide from all the guards, and UCP should work well enough there too. It is mostly gray.”

“You can’t kill or attack anybody except as a last resort. You’ve got to avoid contact with the guards, and any interaction with them has to look like an accident. If they suspect an intruder, they might end up combing the castle grounds more thoroughly and finding us.”

“Got it.”

***

Matthew Reeves heard someone in the doorway as he read a book. He set it down and looked over to see Artemis standing in his room.

“What do you need?” He asked.

“Straight to the point? Okay. I was hoping for a little small talk first.”

"I'm not the outgoing type. So what's up?"

“The way I see it, there’s a lot you people don’t know about this world. I’m offering my expertise to your team as somepony who’s used to danger and well-traveled. All I want in return is training in the use of your weapons, and being allowed to use them on missions.”

“Well you’ve already proven useful, so I’ll throw my support in for that idea. No promises.”

“Fair enough.”

***

Princess Celestia and her entourage watched as King Agamemnon’s chariot and those of his entourage touched down in front of her castle. The chilly mountain air provided a convenient excuse for her to wear her purple cloak, the one she still wore to hide her injury at the hands of her attackers several nights before.

The king’s own chariot was shaped like a teardrop with forward swept wings, and had gold inlays on the exterior, in addition to the brass used in the metal sections of the undercarriage. It was designed to be elegant and protective, and to endure the humidity of the Griffon Kingdom’s coastal capital city. Brass was commonly used at sea for its resistance to corrosion, and the luxurious interior of the enclosed chariot was purportedly protected by a remarkably resistant fiber, which was sandwiched between the inner and outer shell.

The guards, armed with ceremonial sabers and with the relatively new dress blues over their torsos, formed two parallel lines facing in the direction of the royal chariot’s door.

Celestia noticed that the guards had the same sort of sheathes the humans wore on their thighs, albeit made of brown leather. These griffon guards had worn them the last few times she’d been visited by their kingdom, but she’d never wondered more than briefly what they were. For the first time, she realized they were weapons.

One of the griffons opened the chariot, and King Agamemnon stepped out.

He wore a crimson leather harness with a ceremonial dagger and a low-profile golden crown with inset sapphires. His head was a pale gray, eyes similarly colored but with a slight olive tint, and his beak was yellow with a silver-black color that started in front of the nares. His fur and feathers on the rest of his body were rufous, with black on the edges of the wings and on his back. Black streaks marked the visible sections of his breast.

The king strode towards his hostess, a friendly grin on his beak.

“Good evening, Princess, it is good to see you again,” He said. “How long has it been since I visited last? …It must have been four years!”

“And you don’t look a day over thirty-four,” She responded with a smile.

“You flatter me. And this must be your star pupil, Twilight,” He looked to the teenager, who smiled nervously at him.

“Shall we go inside?”

“Yes. It is probably better that we do.”

“I’ll have my guards show your entourage to their quarters. Since you’ve come so far, I’m sure you’ll want to rest after we eat.”

“Thank you.” He motioned for most of his guards, advisors and servants to unload their luggage from the chariots. A group of Royal Guards led them into the castle via one of the myriad doors, whilst the higher-ups entered through the main entrance.

The two royals led their advisors towards the dining hall, which had been repaired from the Strangers’ incursion, unbeknownst to the visitors. As far as they knew, it was the same hall they’d seen four years ago, with nothing different about it.

On the table was a vast feast, even featuring meats prepared specifically for their omnivorous guests. While ponies were technically omnivorous as well, capable of eating things like eggs and deriving nutrition from them, there was a very deeply-ingrained cultural custom of not consuming animals. The main exception was chicken eggs, which were used in baking recipes and in some cases, breakfasts.

After everypony had taken a seat, Agamemnon took the first bit of his meal. It was customary to allow guests to be the first to eat, a sign of graciousness by the host. Griffons and royalty were subjected even more so to this custom.

After a minute of eating, dinner conversation began.

“Did you hear of the incident in southern Prance?" The King inquired.

"No. I remember when most of the country’s citizens left centuries ago during the famine and left it a shell of its former self, though that was obviously far before your time. I was glad to hear its population was announced to have recovered to a million a couple days ago."

"Over a dozen ponies were found murdered, most without cutie marks or clothes to keep them warm. As strange as it is horrible.”

Celestia’s heart skipped a beat, though she calmly continued chewing her food before swallowing and responding.

“As a matter of fact I had heard. I can’t imagine what could do such a horrible thing…”

***

Scott hid just outside the section of the castle the griffons would be staying in, awaiting a signal from Twilight Sparkle. As soon as the king was notified his quarters were ready, she’d ask to be excused and head to the bathroom. From there, she’d find a two-way radio for her to communicate with him. She’d tell him when to move and give him relevant information she’d found out over dinner, if any.

“Captain, can you hear me? Did I turn this thing on?” Twilight whispered.

“I hear you.”

“Wow, this technology is amazing. I can talk to you just as if you were right here!”

“Keep it down. We don't want anybody thinking you have company. Besides, there are better places to meet men than the women's bathroom.”

“Right, sorry! One of King Agamemnon’s advisors came to tell him his room had been set up. The king himself will be here another hour before he goes to his quarters. That’s enough time, right?”

“Yeah. Mitchell out.”

He checked his sidearm and screwed on a suppressor, then holstered it to carry cocked-and-locked. It wouldn’t be whisper quiet in close-quarters by any means, but it’d be a marked improvement. His Modular Rifle-Caseless was fitted with a gun camera and a suppressor, and had a gray fractal pattern. Combined with specialized caseless ammunition, the suppressor would be more effective at quieting the rifle than the one on the pistol, and it wouldn’t leave any casings behind if he fired. If he couldn’t kill the guards, he could distract them by breaking glass instead. The guncam was meant to let the user fire from around corners, but it was just as good for simply looking. He didn't have any plates in his vest, because wouldn't need them against these guards if it came to that, and they'd just make things more difficult.

So when he cracked open the door from the abandoned part of the castle to the occupied part, he stuck his weapon through. The image was relayed directly to his Crosscom, with his heads-up display still transposed on top of it. A single switch on the camera itself activated a low-light mode that brightened the picture but didn’t sacrifice color. While it wasn’t as effective as more conventional night vision filters, it did allow for more detail.

The halls were devoid of life. Furniture, torches, carpets, and windows, but not a creature in sight. Scott pulled the door open further and slipped through. He walked quickly and quietly through the hallway, which ended in a right turn. Pressing himself against the wall, the soldier slowly stuck his rifle around the corner. Spotting movement, he doubled the zoom to inspect further.

There were a pair of griffons in Marine-like dress blues, sabers sheathed. One had a pistol drawn, and from what he saw of that gun’s silhouette and the visible portion of the other guard’s holstered weapon he deduced its identity.

A Smith & Wesson Model 59. There’s a different stamp on the slide though, and the trigger guard looks modified for their talons. Reeves’ theory about these weapons being reverse-engineered might be right. There are a lot of places on Earth like the Bermuda Triangle. Some lost shipments or individual guns in places like end up on this world, and they get reverse-engineered.

That would make Equis as a whole more imitative than innovative. Their tech doesn’t seem to pass the 80s. The harmonious mentality could lead to groupthink, which might be why they’re so stagnant. Enough individuals embrace the status quo, and the rest go along because they desire harmony over all else. Fewer debates, more unused ideas, less progress.
Still, even with stagnant technological development, any aggressor state on Equis can do a lot of damage with 1980s military tech. And with magic, a few scrapped concepts could be more practical…

Maybe their fashion is from the 80s too.

Despite the serious implications of those thoughts, he grinned at the last one. Focusing on the task at hand, he plotted a way forward. Mitchell stalked forty meters towards his target and the guards, over to a table with pillows beside it – probably a place for ponies to sit and read with a window to their backs – and knelt down.

From where he was, he could see a shadowy space large enough for him to hide in, near the corner at the end of the passage. Judging by the sound, the griffons were coming towards him. If they passed him now, they’d see him when they turned back.

He decided to risk it, and ran as quietly as he could over to the darkened crevice. As soon as he reached it, he pressed himself against the wall, letting the shadows mask his presence.

Luckily, the guards strode by, oblivious to him. Once they were five meters from him, Scott left the shadows and rounded the corner. There were several doors on either side of the hallway, masterfully woven tapestries, and another pair of griffon guards headed away from him.

He glanced around and noticed that there were vacant shadowy spaces behind the tapestries, big enough to hide in. Overhead were sturdy-looking wooden rafters, which would be accessible when standing on furniture. But shimmying along those wouldn't be very effective, and he couldn't drop down silently.

Instead, he moved from cover to cover using shadows, furniture and tapestries to conceal himself.

“Twilight. I’m in a hall with rows of doors on either side, tapestries in between, and some furniture. Do you know which room the King’ll be staying in?” He whispered.

“No, and I can’t stay in here much longer. If I’m gone too long it’ll seem odd. The King will probably have a special incense in his room to keep the smell of the capitol in his mind and remind him of his people. It’s a traditional practice for griffon leaders of the current bloodline… I have to go. Good luck!”

Scott paused and tried to search for a smell, any smell. There was a faint odor in the air, like the sea, and as he headed deeper down the hall it intensified. A red seal hung from a door further down the hall. He continued climbing along the rafters, staying out of sight of the guards. Once he reached the door, he checked to see where the guards were at. They were all a dozen meters away, none facing him. He moved towards one of the beams supporting the rafters and slid down.

The captain opened the door quietly, and slid in through the small opening he’d made. Had he opened the door too far, it might’ve made a noticeable squeak and drawn attention, or it might not have. He wasn’t willing to risk it. It smelled like he was at sea, which was actually quite nice.

Scott looked around for anything that might carry important documents. Suitcases, folders, envelopes-

Bingo.

A leather binder lay on a desk, marked with the same griffon royal seal he’d seen that morning. He opened it and began flipping through the pages, putting a finger to the Crosscom monocle’s ear mount. His HUD displayed an icon every time he turned a page, capturing everything written on each. Within a minute, it had all been copied, and he shut it. After carefully returning it to its previous position, he opened a window and climbed out of it, closing it behind him.

He climbed down and snuck back to the encampment.

I hope I don’t have to do that again.

Canterlot Castle
21:00
October 16, 1196 CE
Day 5

With Agamemnon finally gone after a 2 night stay, things were back to “normal” at the castle. Captain Mitchell met with the officers and the more informed ponies to discuss the next steps. Copies of the King’s briefing papers were distributed among them.

“The king’s briefing confirms what Calliope claimed, that an unidentified group is supporting an armed insurgency in the southern reaches of the Griffon Kingdom. It also claims that the CECS is supporting a faction within the rebels and that the AWT is a patron of the Kingdom, mainly through arms sales. Neither have conventional units present in the region.”

“Conventional?” Twilight repeated.

“Normal soldiers on official missions, not like us,” Reeves clarified. “What are they armed with?”

“Royal Griffon Army uses dated American gear, and the insurgents use a mix of different weapons. The unknown faction uses NATO weaponry. It’s all Cold War-era tech, but that’s still plenty dangerous,” Mitchell answered.

“They speak Equestrian and a few other languages there, so communication won’t be a problem.”

“Objectives?”

“Find out who this third group works for, obtain all the intel we can, and eliminate any threats to Equestria we find. I’ll take Diaz, Nolan, Jenkins, Beasley, Smith, Viper Team and Warhound Team. Artemis will come in an advisory capacity, once we give her some basic weapons training to supplement her bow. For transportation, we’ll take one of the Ospreys, ‘Albatross’. The retractable, belly-mounted GAU-17 could be useful. For drones, we’ll take one Cypher UAV and a MULE. If Calliope has finished recovering by the time we leave, we'll bring her too. Lieutenant Rosen?”

“Sir?”

“You’re in command here. We’ll have to exchange updates in text and images only, no transmitting NARCOMs or helmet cams unless we find a way to broadcast that much data over a long distance discreetly. We can’t afford to underestimate the enemy’s ELINT capacity; even if Unit 61398 couldn't crack our encryption, that doesn't mean we want them to know we're communicating at all.”

“What’s the ROE?”

“Agamemnon’s forces are just trying to keep order, but expect them to shoot first and ask questions later. RGA, insurgents, or these enablers, anyone that presents a threat is fair game. What do we know about the environment?"

"The closest analogue to the terrain in the Agon City area of operations is the American Southwest," Reeves said. "It is a desert, but it has plenty of vegetation and wildlife. I'd recommend we bring plenty of antivenin for snake bites though. We've all fought in deserts before, so we know what to do to. The northern portion of Agon Province bordering the Gulf of Gryphos is more temperate and densely vegetated. Conflict in that area is less intense, but still present. Hopefully we won't need to go there."

"Alright. We'll leave in two days," Mitchell said.

Author's Note

Tom Clancy (1947-2013)

Sorry for the long wait. A perfect storm of college, holidays, writer's block and new vidya slowed my writing.

Also, the Ghosts won't be wearing UCP on their next mission.

7. Dreams

Unknown Location
Unknown Time
Unknown Date
Unknown Scenario

Scott Mitchell stood in a flowing river that seemed to have cut through an otherwise flat plane of slate-gray rock. At least, the parts that weren’t obscured by fog seemed flat.

He could make out a figure that looked like an alicorn. Another appeared from the mist, an alicorn as well. Soon, they both lined up by the river, directly across from him. They stared at him intensely, striding across the water to his side of the river. The alicorns began to circle him and look him over.

“?rewop rof barg reh tneverp ot latrom siht no yler ew tsuM” The larger of them, a male, asked.

“.siuqE ot dnik sih gnirb ot tif was taht saw ew yhw rebmemer ot llew od dluow uoY” The female answered.

“.snamuh …eseht tsurt t’nod I” The male one responded. He then turned to the female. “.meht fo lla ssel hcum ,snoipmahc reh fo eno taefed dluoc eh tbuod I"

The soldier urged to say something, but found himself unable to open his mouth.

“?thgin eht fo serutaerc naht snoipmahc reh yals ot retteb ohW,” The female responded. “…doolb ruo nopu sllaf doolb ruo gnillik fo ksat eht tuB”

“Who are you?!”Mitchell demanded.

“The mortal speaks. Impressive,” The female observed, finally speaking something comprehensible. “To shatter that charm must’ve required significant willpower.”

He drew his pistol and pointed it at them.

“You can’t kill the dead, human…”

Canterlot Castle
05:30
October 17, 1196 CE
Day 6

Scott awoke in an unremarkable and undramatic manner. He was cold, sweaty and his heart was racing, but he didn’t know why. If it was because of a dream, he’d already forgotten it. Still, he needed to warm up, so he took a hot shower.

I guess some good things came out of this whole incident. I get access to a soft bed and a hot shower every few nights.
All that’s going on today is preparing Artemis for our trip to the Griffon Kingdom, and general preparation. Need to give her basic firearms training, and a crash course of what to do in a firefight so she doesn’t get killed if she ends up in the middle of one.

After he finished, he dried off and shaved, then got dressed. Once he finished, he decided to stop by the castle’s library and read for a bit. Breakfast wasn’t until 07:30. He left his room and headed down Canterlot Castle’s extensive halls, travelling for about ten minutes before he reached his destination.

The whole place smelled like parchment, and it was empty save for a half dozen ponies that were part of the team working on finding his people a way home. They wore archetypal white lab coats over teal turtlenecks, and at least half of them had brown fur. They gave him passing glances, and one of the older individuals stared for a good minute before a colleague nudged him.

“Are there any newspapers around here? Something to get a snapshot of what’s happening around the world.”

The scientists seemed hesitant to answer, surprised that they had just been addressed by him.

“There’s a copy of the World Herald over there,” One of them answered, pointing to an empty desk nearby. “I don’t know anypony who reads the international section.”

“Thanks.”

He walked over to the newspaper and opened it to the international section and browsed the headlines.

This looks interesting.

Eosian Premier Replaced with Hard-Liner
Legacy Brashneigh, the recently passed leader of the Eosian Union of Socialist Republics, has been replaced along with his inner circle. He is succeeded by Yearning Ambleoff as General Secretary of the EUSR.
Sources choosing to remain anonymous claim that the Committee for State Security, one of the alliance’s chief intelligence organizations, and Ambleoff’s former station, was instrumental in this changing of the guard.
In the announcement following this political shift, Ambleoff made clear his policy objectives, which included the international proliferation of his party’s ideology.

That sounded eerily familiar to Scott.

Pop Music Groups Hailing from Selenia Make Waves in Griffon Kingdom

Scott skipped that one.

Griffon Army Escalates Presence in South of Kingdom in Response to “Free Wing” Offensive

To counter the efforts of the insurgent group “Free Wing”, the Royal Griffon Army has increased its presence in the south. This is seen as another escalation of an already unpopular and bloody war using technology from foreign powers, and has been met with protests in major cities across the Kingdom.

The Free Wing is a separatist movement in a southern region of the country – known as “Agon”- which is populated by ponies and griffons alike. At this point in the four-year long conflict, which is characterized as an internal military action by the Griffon government, citizens are divided as to whether the province should be allowed to secede.

“Where’s this paper based, anyway?”

“I don’t know. It has mostly has the same international news wherever it’s sold, but the national stuff does change,” One of the scientists - if the magic experts working on a way home for him could be accurately called that - answered.

Mitchell decided to begin his own preparation for his team’s mission into Agon. He opened a menu on his Crosscom’s HUD that displayed camouflage patterns he could use, categorized in several different ways. Russian, European, American and other patterns were all available if he needed to look like another nation's military from afar, not that that'd be any benefit here. Pattern families and intended environments were also categories, to make finding the right camo for a given terrain easier. He went into the desert category, ruled out older patterns, and decided on MultiCam Arid.

He browsed the available intelligence he had on the upcoming mission for an hour or so. After that, he made his way towards Princess Celestia’s chambers. He’d need her input on where his people could train Artemis Arrow. And any place where they could train her, they could also keep their own skills sharp.

When he arrived, he opened the door without knocking, recognizing a split-second too late his breach in etiquette. In any case the door was open now. Depending on her reaction, he’d either socialize, or get down to business.

Inside, Celestia sat next to a stained-glass window, depicting two alicorns that seemed dimly familiar, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. In front of the princess was a finely crafted walnut table about waist-high, with a Black Forest cake in the center. There was already a slice on her plate, and she held a fork with her magic. She froze with her mouth agape when she noticed him standing there.

***

Well. This is certainly awkward.

“Sorry I forgot to knock… Were you going to eat that whole thing?” Captain Mitchell asked.

“N-no, have a seat.” Celestia stuttered, surprised. “Would you like some?”

The human knelt on a pillow on the other side of the table. “Yes, please.”

The princess withdrew another plate, fork and knife from a cabinet in the table. After a moment of hesitation, she cut him a slice and served him.

“Thank you.” He took a bite and smiled.

“You’re very welcome.”

Mitchell took another few bites. “Why eat cake this early?”

“Moving the sun in the morning uses quite a lot of energy. I always eat afterwards because a royal breakfast isn’t enough to replenish all of it.”

“I don’t know, a royal breakfast sounds good to me.”

“It’s really not much more than a normal pony’s breakfast of oatmeal and fruit. The only difference is high-end ingredients. May I ask you something?” Celestia inquired.

“You just did,” He quipped.

They both chuckled.

“Alright, ask me something then.”

“Why ‘Princess’ and not ‘Queen’? Shouldn’t Equestria be a principality?” Mitchell asked, taking a few bites of his cake.

Celestia tilted her head backwards and to the left, then returned it to its previous position, the equine equivalent of a shrug. “It’s Princess because I’m unmarried. But you’re right about the nomenclature. It’s mostly that nopony really cares enough to mention such a non-issue. Maybe I should start making public service announcements. ‘Fight apathy. Or don’t.’”

Mitchell chuckled.

She sensed an ever-so-faint amount of magic on him. Almost imperceptible, but definitely there. It was similar to the residual presence she’d felt on his vehicles when the humans had first arrived almost a week ago. This magic hadn't been on him before, or at least she hadn't noticed it before. It wasn’t intrinsic to the vehicles, or to Mitchell, only a remnant of some unknown force.

Celestia smiled. “I remember when you arrived, you told me your people were travelling through a place associated with disappearances. Where were you headed?”

“That’s classified,” He answered casually.

“Do I pose a threat to your national security?” She asked, only half-serious.

“No, but a big part of the job is keeping secrets.”

“Like a spy?”

“Sort of.”

“I’m not a fan of spy films myself,” She admitted.

“Likewise. Real spies don’t wear tuxedoes and fight supervillains. Most of their job is maintaining a cover, avoiding suspicion, and acquiring or passing on information. Boring, but stressful. I’m more of a superhero guy.”

Celestia raised her eyebrows and chuckled. “Really? I can’t picture you reading comic books.”

“Well, when you do things like I do, light-hearted escapism is refreshing. I’ve read comics since I was a kid, but I’m not as into them as I used to be.”

“Yes, well, I don’t think you came here to talk about comic books.”

“You’re right. Since my team is leaving in a couple of days with Artemis Arrow as an advisor and guide, we need a place to train her in basic firearms usage. A bow won’t be much use in a firefight.”

“I’ll find someplace your people can use after breakfast.”

“Thank you.”

***

The training began in the crystal caverns beneath the castle. Targets were a mix of existing mining equipment and illusion magic cast by a pair of guards, who’d been given the task of overseeing the endeavor.

For someone who claimed to have no prior experience with firearms, Artemis Arrow displayed a remarkable aptitude with them. She stopped flinching after the first few rounds had been fired, her aim was impressive, and she learned extremely quickly in every task given to her. Hitting stationary and moving targets, learning how to maintain her weapons, clearing jams, the list went on.

When they presented her with a modified Crosscom she learned how to use it quickly. Granted, that wasn’t very hard to do, as it was designed for ease of use even in combat situations.

The huntress’ remarkable adaptability may have been a trait she developed over years of hunting dangerous beasts with nothing but a bow, a blade and her magic, or perhaps she was always this quick to learn things. Maybe she was holding something back. One way or another, she was a lot sharper than any of them expected. By the end of the day they were ready to throw in the towel. Things had gone pretty well for a condensed crash course in weapons and tactics.

When the group finished they headed topside for dinner.

“I still can’t believe how fast you got all that down,” Matthew Reeves said. “Are you always this quick to learn things?”

“I grew up on my own, so I had to make my own way. Being a professional hunter just meant I had to stay self-reliant. Working with the Royal Guard the last two years has been rough, since they don’t trust loners,” She replied.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. They’re a bunch of naïve, self-righteous featherbrains, and they needed an expert to keep wild beasts under control. It doesn’t help that they’re reluctant to change their combat doctrine.”

“Isn’t the Royal Guard just a ceremonial protection detail?” Matthew asked.

“Actually, they do a few things; protecting the Princess and the nobles, policing Canterlot, and dealing with dangerous beasts.” Artemis explained.

“And you were contracted because you’re good at monster hunting?”

“Yes, but I’m a mare of many talents,” The huntress gloated.

“I noticed.”

Reeves wasn't sure about her story. But they'd only covered the basics so she wouldn't be dead weight when her skillset wasn't needed. Her performance, while relatively impressive compared to some foreign regulars he'd worked with, wasn't that unusual. She'd shown herself to be adaptable before, this was just a continuation of that.

Canterlot Gardens
03:09
October 18, 1196 CE
Day 7

It was still dark out as the Ghosts and Special Forces teams prepared to leave. Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle, Princess Cadance, Shining Armor and the mostly-healed Calliope came to see them off.

“Princess, we’ll stay in touch through Rosen, he’s in charge here for now. Our Osprey will act as a base and a relay station of sorts for our communications with you and everyone else here,” Mitchell said to her over the rotor wash.

“That technology you used to talk to me face-to-face a few days ago, will that still work?” Princess Celestia asked.

“It might, but we’re going to try and keep comms usage low to avoid detection. If we do talk, it’ll be audio only, with lower sound quality. Most of our communication will be through text and images.”

“What if something comes up here in Equestria?”

“Don’t worry about it. Rosen will coordinate the other Ghosts, Falcon Team, Blackjack Team, and the others if that happens. We’ll keep in touch and brief you when we find anything.” Mitchell smiled at her, stepped into the Osprey and took a seat inside, the ramp closing behind him.

The aircraft took off vertically, ascending well above the castle before it transitioned to horizontal flight. As it had a week before, the Osprey soared over Canterlot’s night sky, this time unrestricted by magic and with a destination to head for. After a few minutes of flight, Matthew Reeves peered out the window. It was a cloudless night, the moon a pearl inlaid upon a velvet cloth studded with thousands of diamonds. Some of the constellations looked familiar, some didn’t.

Artemis looked over to him. “What’s eating you?”

“I realized right after we lifted off that we’re in a UFO,” He replied.

“So?”

“You know, pretty much every question I ever had about the world was answered by the time I was an adult. Not to say I’m a wise man, just that I don’t have a lot of questions. But there was one that’s burned in my mind since I was a kid.”

“Yeah, what question is that?”

“‘Are we alone?’ The popular assumption's been that they’d find us. But I never thought that we’d be the aliens secretly interfering in the affairs of less advanced worlds. Let alone that I’d be one of those aliens. And if there’s two planets in this galaxy with intelligent life, then there have be more…”

“You humans have really active imaginations, you know that?” Artemis laughed. That broke Reeves out of his serious, philosophical mood and put a smile on his face.

“Yeah, I guess we do,” He chuckled “Anyway, I’m thinking I might try to catch a bit of extra shut-eye until we get there.”

Most of the operators onboard the Osprey were asleep, or fell asleep.

“This ride isn’t comfy enough for me to fall asleep in. Anypony got anything to read?” Artemis asked. She got no answer.

The Osprey descended and the passengers began to stir. The rotors shifted to a vertical position, the landing gear touching down on the arid ground of the Agon region.

A glance out a window showed that they’d landed in a small, uninhabited valley isolated from prying eyes. According to their maps and information, they were several miles from a relatively large city.

Captain Mitchell spoke. “Damnation Valley is almost universally believed to be cursed; throw the Donner Party and the Dyatlov Pass incident together with a superstitious population and you’ve got this place’s reputation; not even a lost chest of gold to tempt . Ghosts, Viper Team, Artemis, we’re going to head to Agon City. Warhound, you’ll be our reserve team. If anything comes up, we’ll notify you. Let’s head out.”

Under Cover of Darkness

Agon Province
1840 hours
October 18, 1196 CE
Day 7
Operation Invisible Hand

Reeves and his team laid prone on a hill overlooking their target. They’d switched their Crosscoms over to their FLIR setting and observed the area. The hill had enough rocks and plants on it that they’d needed a few minutes to find a nice spot they could adjust to suit their needs without moving anything large. They needed a good view, but laying down on rocks was uncomfortable and if they could minimize that discomfort they would.

They’d been waiting for almost an hour and the sun was going down. They had dinner: a couple protein bars apiece. Montes dug a small hole and they buried the wrappers in it. They didn’t want them to blow around and give away their position.

“I could go for some barbecue about now,” Raynor whispered.

“I’ve got a recipe for the best pulled pork you’ll ever eat. It’s even better when I have Dillo Dust on hand,” Reeves replied.

“You never struck me as the cooking type,” Brooks noted.

“Not sure I’d call it a hobby, but I enjoy it. The pork’s my family’s recipe, it’s not that hard to make and the leftovers are almost as good as when it’s fresh. When we get back home, you’re all invited to my place. Not paying for air fare though.”

“If we get home,” Caputo muttered grimly.

“We are going home.” He sounded resolute, but he wasn’t sure either. The only option they had was playing an offensive defense so that the ponies trying to find them a way back to Earth could keep working. It was really their only choice if they ever wanted to go home, but that was only rationalizing the absurdity of the situation.

What a goddamn mess.

The sound of rotors was in the distance, mingled with the sound of gunfire further to the west.

“Looks like showtime soon.”

The inhabitants of the old mining camp numbered about two dozen. There might have been more, though he doubted they were going to come from the collapsed mineshaft. Then again, they were dealing with magic here. There was a single two-story building that was probably an office for the mining camp and several tents, which might have been inhabited, or might not. The RQ-11 last scanned this area thirty minutes ago, and there were a few targets in them then, but they might’ve moved.

“Artemis. The ley lines go through that office?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d bet our target’s in there. When we get that Osprey, we’ll designate targets with the Crosscom. The minigun’ll do the rest.”

***

Mitchell and his team got ready as Warhound took positions on the opposite side of the grounds.

There were supposed to be fourteen or so targets inside, plus six more patrolling the perimeter. Three of those were in view of the Ghosts.

“Warhound in position. We’ve got two tangos outside.”

“Everyone take one on my mark. Three, two, one, go.”

Multiple suppressed gunshots dropped the five ponies. The cracks blended in with the distant gunfire and explosions to the west.

“Move in. Albatross, move to provide cover fire for Viper.”

The Ghosts moved up to the front door of the manor. The blinds were down, so there wasn’t a problem of concealment.

“Warhound in position,” Serrano reported.

“Ghosts in position. Place breaching charges.”

Jenkins placed a breaching charge on the door.

“Charge set.”

“Charge set.”

“Viper, Warhound, get ready to go loud. Three, two, one, go!”

The charge blew the door inward and sent wood fragments flying inward in a deadly shower. One target was on the ground when the team stormed in and two more were responding to the blast. Mitchell took one, Beasley took another and Diaz put a round in the one on the ground to make sure he wouldn’t get up.

The Ghosts engaged the forward-looking infrared function on their Crosscom monocles. Mitchell, Diaz and Nolan spotted targets on the other side of wooden walls and fired at them. Three targets dropped. Beasley dropped one that was upstairs and heading to the cascading stairs.

“Warhound neutralized four.”

“Ghosts took six, more resistance here. Continue clearing the ground floor, keep that FLIR on. Beasley, Smith, on point. We’re moving upstairs.”

The Ghosts advanced up the stairs, keeping all angles covered. The cracks of suppressed gunfire and the bangs of unsuppressed weapons could be heard downstairs. When they reached the top they looked for any sign of activity. There seemed to be a faint heat signature in the east wing, possibly more targets. Mitchell motioned for them to move that way.

“Warhound here, about a third clear on the ground floor. Tagged a few more,” Serrano reported.

The Ghosts moved down the hallway, keeping all angles covered. There was a heat signature to the right, strong but amorphous-looking. It could well have been a cluster of hostiles, or something else. Smith and Beasley took up positions at the end of the hall where it cut to another hall perpendicular to the one they were in. Their backs were against the walls on their respective sides of the first hall and they got a good view of the second hall without having to lean and expose themselves. It was an instinctual process drilled into them and they’d keep doing it, whether or not they had wall-penetrating thermal imaging or not. It didn’t hurt that they were dealing with literal magic that might fool their technology at some point.

“Clear,” the pointmen said one after another.

The heat signature wasn’t adjacent to any door. In fact, the only doors in this new hall were at the far ends, and it wasn’t clear which one was going to lead to this heat signature.

Clear one, maybe both paths to the target, or make a door.

“Breaching charge on that wall,” Mitchell whispered.

Jenkins began setting detcord on the wall. The others watched and waited for something to happen. They listened to the sound of gunfire downstairs. From where they were, it sounded like doors being slammed. It was more sporadic now. The green diamonds of the other team were right beneath them.

“Charge ready.” Jenkins backed up, and the rest of the Ghosts did too.

“Warhound, be advised, we’re about to breach a wall. You might get some dust knocked onto you.”

“Acknowledged, Ghost lead. We’re moving out of this room, found a few docs and got pictures of them. Grabbed some letters too. Might be useful, might be trash, who knows.”

“Keep bagging ‘em, Warhound.”

Mitchell counted down and detonated the charge. A two meter high, one meter wide hole was blasted into the wall. The team rushed in.
Not a single hostile in sight. But a sapphire the size of a coconut was hovering above a podium at chest-level. It wasn’t scorching hot, but it must’ve been around 130 degrees. There were engravings on it, but the significance of them, if there were any and it wasn’t just symmetrical wear, escaped the Ghosts.

“Boss.” Nolan held up an embroidered bag sized just right to hold the artifact. Mitchell nodded and motioned to his backpack. Nolan bagged it, tied the bag shut and put it in Mitchell’s backpack. It was heavier than it looked.

“Think that’s what we’re here for?”

“Could be. Let’s keep looking.”

“Ghost lead, this is Warhound. Found something.”

“What is it?”

“Looks like a cellar.”

“We’ll be right down.”

***

“Viper, Warhound, get ready to go loud. Three, two, one, go!”

Viper team opened fire on the targets below. The cracks of suppressed rifle and machinegun fire alerted the Aegis who weren’t killed in the opening salvo, but they couldn’t figure out where exactly they were coming from. The gunfire kept coming and the ponies scrambled for cover, only sure about the vaguely southern direction the gunfire was coming from.

With nine of them eliminated in the opening salvo, a push for the office would be a lot easier than fighting through a couple dozen armed hostiles. The survivors were hiding behind wooden carts, boxes, nothing particularly solid. They peeked out occasionally to fire in a general southerly direction. Between their disorganization and disorientation from the ambush, the cover of night, and the resulting poor tactics from fighting an unseen enemy, they weren’t much of a threat. The Mk 318 Mod 1 ammunition the team used tore through the Aegis forces’ poor excuse for cover like it was tissue paper.

The Osprey arrived and began hosing the area with fire from its GAU-17. The surviving Aegis were in a rout now, attempting to flee to the office building. Of the twenty-four who’d been there a minute ago, not a single one made it to safety. It had been an ideal ambush, but the last thing the victors wanted to assume was that the rest would be this easy.

Viper team moved down the hillside and advanced towards the office. There was a glow coming from inside the building now, gradually oscillating between colors across the visible spectrum, growing to a near-white color while still transitioning through the rainbow. They didn’t have enough ammunition and presumably not enough time before reinforcements arrived to Swiss cheese the building before entering, though that would’ve been less than optimal in any case. Explosives would likely destroy whatever artifact they might be looking for.

Their thermals showed no ponies inside, but there was clearly something in there that was causing the peculiar light emissions.
Reeves motioned for the team to stack up by the front door. Brooks placed a shaped breaching charge and it was shortly detonated, showering the interior with shards of wood riding a blast wave. The team rushed in and was met with nothing. Not even a trace the mysterious light they’d seen from outside was in there.

The team kept their guard up and looked around. The room looked like it would’ve been expected to: wood, furniture, damage from the breaching charge. It all seemed amount right except for the lack of any Aegis, and the blast seemed to have been more powerful than it should’ve been, but only somewhat. There wasn’t a hoofprint or a half-empty bottle or glass of whatever drink the previous resident was partial to. It was roomier than it looked from the outside.

“It feels weird in here,” Artemis said uncomfortably.

“It feels like we got bad intel and were suckered into attacking a decoy. The Ghosts and Warhound must be in a real hot zone while we’re here.” Reeves cursed under his breath.

“Dead Aegis is a good thing, though,” Montes added. He began looking around for anything that would justify their attack, as did the others.

“Yeah, but is a couple dozen of them a serious setback or are we barely making a dent?” Raynor wondered. “They got blown away like a gator that ate a homemade firecracker, they can’t be that elite.”

“Jesus, that’s the most Floridian thing I’ve heard you say in a while. The hell is in the water there?” Matsuo chuckled while he watched the door with his machinegun at the ready.

“Gator shit, septic runoff from Disneyworld, probably some drugs flushed down the toilet to keep DEA and the local narcs off the back of whatever inbred swamp person thought cooking a little meth on the side would pay for his airboat repairs,” Reeves opined as he looked around for anything useful.

“Yeah, you forgot to throw in some references to Miami Vice and Cubans to finish your Florida stereotype bingo card, Captain” Raynor said, checking what might’ve been a liquor cabinet at one point, but was now empty.

“Why would I have any problems with Cubans? My best friend’s half-Cuban.” Reeves shrugged as he put down an old mining manifest he’d just flicked through.

“I thought Miami Vice would be the free space in the middle,” Brooks added. “I mean, that Athena mare was using a Bren Ten anyway.”

“It might’ve just been a CZ-75 with magic bullets, not 10mm.” Reeves sighed. “These guys panicked and were caught with their pants down occupying a position with no meaningful defensive infrastructure. They didn’t even load up the carts with rocks in case they needed cover. They couldn’t have been here long. Maybe we got here before any HVT could.”

“I’m not so sure,” Artemis said. “Matsuo, could you move away from the door?” He obliged. She picked up a chunk of wood about the size of a baseball with her magic and threw it out the door, past Matsuo, at a very high speed. As soon as it exited, it lost velocity abruptly.

“When I tried to pick something up with my magic earlier, it felt off, like it was closer than it should’ve been. I ended up grabbing dirt by accident. Now I know why. There’s some high-level magic at play here. It’s literally bigger inside than it should be given the size of the building.”

“Hold up, are we talking about some space-time distortion Star Trek-type stuff?” Reeves asked.

“Space, yes. Time, no. No idea what that third thing is. If something is moving, say, ten miles per hour in here, it’s moving at that rate relative to what a mile means in this compressed space. So when I threw that chunk of wood through the door and it was moving – let’s make up a number and say 100 miles per hour in here – it adjusted to the normal rate of travel it would be going relative to the outside world. So judging by how much the chunk slowed it has to be at least five times as big inside this compressed space as it should be.”

“Assuming this all scales at a linear rate,” Montes added. “I don’t think it does, or else the breaching charge would’ve done a lot more damage to the inside. It already did do a number.”

“Assuming,” Artemis admitted.

“I thought maybe the explosive content of the detcord might’ve been a little higher than it was specified to be, but that still seemed odd,” Brooks said.

“I can see altered space messing with the wavelengths of light, and that might be why we got that light show,” Caputo said. “That’d mess up the frequencies on our radios if we tried to talk to anybody outside the house.”

“It’s not that big on this floor, but upstairs is probably where things get weird,” Artemis said. “We go up there, things get big.”

“And our Aegis heavy is probably waiting for us up there. Alright, let’s pop outside, give a SITREP and come back to stack up on those stairs.”

***

The Ghosts stacked up outside a cellar door Warhound had found and prepared to breach it.

“Ghost lead, Viper lead.”

“Go ahead, Viper.”

“We’ve found some odd magic field – some compressed space sci-fi type stuff – going on in the main building of the mining camp. We’ll be out of contact for a while. We have reason to believe there’s an Aegis heavy inside that field and we’re planning to take them, grab anything useful and bug out.”

“Acknowledged, Viper. Hit ‘em hard. Ghost lead out. Serrano, you see anything else that might be useful when you were clearing?”

“Nada,” Warhound’s leader said.

“Not so much as a coffee table book?”

“Not even a napkin someone tested their pen on.”

“Check upstairs, we didn’t search every room.”

“You got it.” Serrano took his team and moved out.

Mitchell took a closer look at the cellar door. It was made of what looked like oak and secured by iron hinges and an unlocked latch. He grabbed one of the doors and cracked it open, poking his rifle in. Smith did the same with the other door. It was extremely dark downstairs.

The Ghosts proceeded down two at a time, their weapon lights off, using night vision instead. At the bottom of the stairs things opened up some. There was a large room filled with racks that probably held barrels of wine once but now sat empty, save for the cobweb. The spiders must’ve moved in fast, because the rest of the manor was in decent shape. The sole source of light was a faint glow coming from the center of the room. The Ghosts all kept an eye on it, some training their weapons on it as well, but most continuing to sweep the room.

The room turned out to be clear, with the faint glow that allowed them to use their night vision at all coming from a pedestal in the center of the room. There was an indentation in it big enough for a coconut.

“Diaz, take the gem out of my pack, hand it to me,” Mitchell whispered. She obeyed, pulling out the embroidered bag from his pack and handing it to him. Even through his gloves and the bag, he could feel the heat emanating from it.

He sighed and gently placed it in the groove. Nothing happened right away.

Why did I do that?

Suddenly, the pedestal moved up and the gem glowed brighter and brighter, lighting the room to daylight levels and prompting the Ghosts to turn off their night vision. The pedestal then lowered, while the gem remained suspended in its position, floating in place.

I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

Mitchell motioned for the Ghosts to move back upstairs. He and Smith brought up the rear. The gem grew and morphed into the shape of a unicorn mare.

“You are not Iris. Who are you, who would wake me and remind me of this curse?” She spoke in a distorted tone, like her voice echoed within her own throat.

“No one,” Mitchell replied.

“No one? Do you take me for a fool?”

“No. What not-fool am I speaking to?”

She didn’t answer and began to talk about esoteric curses and blessings laid upon her, with the Ghosts only half paying attention to magical terminology that flew miles over their heads. She was giving off a distinct vibe that they all felt meant she was going to try to kill them shortly. The Ghosts had neither the time nor inclination to indulge her playing with her prey.

Explosives are out of the question. Even if we don’t kill ourselves with them down here, we might cave in the cellar on her which would make it pretty difficult to dig up whatever artifact she has on her. Maybe she’s the artifact we’re looking for? She must be, she’s made of some magical gem, and that fits the bill as well as anything.

We’ll bring her back in pieces.

He flicked his rifle’s fire selector to full-auto and aimed at her. The other Ghosts did the same. They fired as one, before the self-absorbed mare could react. Chunks of quasi-sapphire flew everywhere as the team put as many rounds into her as possible. By the time they had to reload after a few bursts apiece, what was left standing barely resembled a pony, though if they were to put the pieces together it might look like a mare again.

“I feel like we missed something there,” Jenkins said.

“High-level magic mumbo-jumbo and a mare with an ego the size of Texas if she thought we’d wait politely for her to start trouble,” Diaz said.

“Well, I’ll take anticlimactic over getting into it with a magic user at knife fight range,” Beasley added.

There was a softly pulsating core in the not-quite-skeletal remains. Mitchell approached it cautiously and reached in to grab it. It wasn’t warm, not like the orb this thing that used to be a mare formed from. He reached into the remains and yanked the baseball-sized sphere out, wincing a little as he pulled out what must’ve been a heart. This orb was lighter than it looked. So was the crystal corpse.

Does magic follow the law of conservation of mass?

Mitchell put it in a side pouch of his backpack. After over a hundred fifty rounds discharged and without ventilation, the room smelled like gunpowder. The mustiness that had been there when they came in was still there, and the combination of smells was unpleasant.

“Let’s clear out. Anything, Warhound?”

“Still nothing.”

“Albatross?”

“Copy, Ghost lead.”

“Move to our position, Ghosts and Warhound ready to exfil.”

“Acknowledged. Moving to your position.”

***

Viper team prepared to move upstairs. The stairs were wide enough for them to move up two abreast.

“One, two, three.”

The group moved up the stairs and found themselves in what looked like an abandoned warehouse, but with nice wooden paneling. There were relics strewn about the place; brass gyroscopes, silver globes, statues and statuettes made of or gilded with gold and inlaid with precious gems. Ornate bookshelves and desks punctuated the room at regular intervals. There was no question that this place was rich with knowledge.

A cyan unicorn mare was on the far side of the room. This must’ve been her sanctuary. It was difficult to say how she kept such a thing mobile, but how magic worked in general wasn’t something the humans understood.

All the objects of any discernable value had the name Iris inlaid in gold. That must’ve been their target’s name.
Iris spotted them before they could get a bead on her. Her horn glowed and she was enveloped in an opaque whitish glow that modulated faintly across the visible spectrum of colors. The team opened fire. Their shots connected but had no effect.

“You amuse me, outlanders.” The voice came from all around the room. She fired a white beam from her horn, cutting through many of the desks. Reeves dove out of the way and scrambled to new cover.

No real cover here, only concealment. Not if she can keep slicing through this without a problem.

Okay, so either she’s projecting all this and that’s why she can afford to do this, or she’s using something as an anchor for this. That’s the point of these artifacts they were given, right?

Shit, I have no idea.

“She’s using space compression as armor,” Artemis said. “Everything we throw at her goes through that field too slow to hurt her, and whatever she throws comes out faster.”

Then she must be seeing light in red, ass end of the visible spectrum. Well, she still sees. And her perception of sound is probably screwed up. Let’s hope if we startle her it’ll at least weaken that spell.

Reeves threw a flashbang grenade at Iris. She attempted to blast it, but it went off near her, stunning her.

“Fire!”

The team opened fire at her, but their bullets still had no effect. Raynor threw a frag grenade. When it detonated, it had no direct effect on her, but a wooden statue nearby burst shortly after the initial detonation in a flash that did seem to hurt Iris.

Another beam flew at them, missing again, this time because of the lingering effects of the flashbang more than luck. The team moved from cover to cover, trying to avoid being seen.

“Reeves, these relics-”

“Yeah, I noticed. Are these holding this compressed space in place?”

“No, they’re fueling her, but they burst and splash raw magic nearby when they’re damaged.”

“She doesn’t lack for style in her batteries.”

A blast charged up and went wide by a foot and a half. Reeves peeked around the bookshelf he was hiding behind. It didn’t look like there was anything that might be a relic near her. Nothing except a gorgeous wooden statue of an owl with obsidian eyes and gold inlay on the feathers. Then again, anything could be a reservoir for her magic, she was definitely an odd one.

“I remember what you are now, humans. Consider this your first and last chance. Surrender to me, you may yet live.” The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. It was definitely not telepathy, they could feel it in their ears.

The team looked at Reeves. Their luck was going to run out soon unless they took care of this soon. Their sole route of retreat was pretty risky too.

“You obviously don’t know us if you think we’re going to quit because things get a little tough.”

Reeves leaned out and started shooting the owl statue next to Iris, which burst into blue light. The aura surrounding her became mostly translucent. Reeves began dumping rounds into her and the rest of the team followed suit.

At first it had no effect, but the sheer volume of fire overwhelmed the weakened barrier and it burst in a blinding flash. Every bullet it had stopped went through at once, having regained some of their momentum. The results were deadly and would’ve been far gorier had the bullets retained more than a quarter of their velocity.

The team moved up to the corpse of Iris. There was an amulet around her neck.

This must be it.

Reeves ripped the amulet off. He could feel something coming off it. Not heat, not vibrations, but something less easily described. He tucked it into an empty magazine pouch and sighed as the adrenaline high tapered off.

“The place isn’t collapsing, so our friend here wasn’t holding it together. Artemis, you’re the magic expert. You wanna explain why?”

“I’d guess the same relics Iris used to power that compressed space armor are what’s holding this place together. How she transports them is anypony’s guess.”

“Let’s blow on out. Aegis will find the bodies of their goons and Iris here. As far as I know, there haven’t been any Aegis that’ve seen us and lived. This’ll spook them good.”

The team left the compressed space via the staircase they’d gone in through and exited the building.

“Albatross, Viper. Ready for extraction.”

“Copy, Viper. ETA 2 minutes. Ghosts and Warhound are already onboard and we’re ready to RTB.”

“Good to hear. Viper out.”

Reeves breathed in the warm night air and listened to the sound of distant gunfire from the city. The cracks, bangs and booms were a ways away, a war that didn’t terribly concern them so long as it wasn’t affecting them.

How many times have I heard the sounds of an urban warzone in the last seven years? There was Iraq in 2007, Eastern Europe in 2008, Cuba in 2010, Korea in 2011, a bunch of others not exactly urban.

If I made it out of Tallinn and Kaliningrad alive, I can survive these Aegis .

As long as we get that ticket home, we’ll be alright.

The Osprey descended nearby, the rotor wash kicking up a cloud of dust. The ramp was lowered as it touched down and the team hopped onboard. After they strapped in, the ramp raised and closed shut.

A few of the operators sighed. The intelligence they’d gathered on this trip might let them be proactive going forward, instead of just reacting and searching for intel.

Soon we get to make the Aegis play on our terms, Mitchell thought with a smile. Once we’re on the offensive, we can start making the enemy play by our rules.

Sun Streak

Canterlot Castle

0900 hours

October 19, 1196 CE

Day 8

Princess Celestia looked from the balcony adjoining her chambers over Canterlot. The light of the morning sun cast stark shadows as its light struck the alabaster-painted buildings that made up the Royal District, the thriving district closest to the castle. The residential areas were mostly empty by now, as the ponies who lived there either remained inside their homes or had gone to work.

There was a knock at the door.

“Princess, may I come in?” Twilight Sparkle asked.

“Of course.” Celestia smiled and walked over to the door, opening it with her magic. Her student trotted in.

“Good morning, Twilight.”

“Good morning, Princess. Where are Captain Mitchell and the other humans?”

“They’re resting. Many of them returned after midnight last night, so they’re taking the day to rest. At least, they are for now. Some of them also cited religious practices, saying they prefer to rest on Sunday since they have the opportunity.”

“They really are an interesting group. I’d love to learn more about their culture and history someday. They have access to practically all written knowledge about us, and we have nothing about humans but myths. Even just learning a bit about their country’s history would be great.”

“They’re remarkably proud of their country, its achievements and its status. They claim it wields vast power diplomatically, economically, culturally and militarily, unmatched by any other nation on their world. The term ‘superpower’ was used a few times.” Celestia noticed Twilight frown ever so slightly. “That just makes you want to learn more, doesn’t it?”

She nodded. “Vague descriptions of how powerful they are don’t tell us about the nature of that power, how it came to be, or how it’s used. Is a culture that values its military so much really a natural ally for Equestria?”

Celestia sighed through her nose. “I suppose that’s something that remains to be seen. These soldiers don’t seem eager to shed blood, but they seem eager take care of the dangers facing us. They are a mutual problem.”

“Talking with them about what happens in the long-term, after we get them home, might be a good idea.”

Celestia chuckled. “I didn’t realize you were so eager to dictate policy.”

“I-I didn’t mean to overstep my bounds, Princess.” Twilight bowed her head in shame.

Celestia winced.

“It’s quite alright, Twilight.”

“W-well, as I was saying, maybe we should consult with Captain Mitchell, and perhaps a few other humans, on how things will go when we return them to their world.”

“You’re right. The situation must be hard enough for them as it is, adjusting to this world. If we were to make contact with the whole of humanity, it’d be a greater shock for them than us. There are so many sapient races here on Equis, yet on their world only humans possess the same mental faculties we do. We’re ultimately aliens to them.”

“We really need to hope whoever we make contact with has a cool head. But it also sounds like if we aligned ourselves with their country we’d be better off for it.”

“It was an interesting film. It’s good to know that at least their cinema isn’t dominated by cheesy romances, comedies and superhero movies.” Celestia chuckled. “What was that movie called?”

“Apollo 13. I thought it was science fiction, but the humans claimed it was based on an event from 44 years ago.”

Celestia nodded. “Well, in the meantime, we should focus on dealing with this threat we’re facing and finding a way to get the humans home.”

“Actually, I’m off from school until the 27th. If there’s anything I can do to help until then, I’d like to pitch in.”

“Hmm. The team working on returning the humans could always use help. A couple of the professors from the School for Gifted Unicorns are working on the project.”

“Where can I find them?”

“The fourth floor library and adjoining laboratory. It’s in the west wing of the castle.”

“There’s a lab here?” Twilight cocked an eyebrow.

“It’s an ad hoc laboratory. It used to be a theater, but its most frequent visitors for the last thirty or so years have been the castle’s custodial staff. When the Star Stage Productions Company shut down, there really wasn’t any use for it anymore.” She sighed. “Theater is a dying art.”

“That’s a shame.”

“It’s a tragedy.”

Twilight opened her mouth but held her tongue. She’d never been concerned with cultural institutions beyond literature and had probably decided against expressing that. “What if they ask for proof I’m allowed to work on this project? Is there a password or phrase?”

“The passphrase is ‘Sun Streak’, if they ask you.”

“Thank you, Princess.” Twilight bowed and left.

Celestia walked inside her chambers, leaving the balcony doors open. It was a beautiful day out and a crisp fall breeze blew into her room. At her desk, she sat down on a cushion and browsed through her itinerary for the week and took notes.

There were no meetings scheduled that day, though the provincial governor of Thestralis, a province in the northeast where most bat ponies resided upon their ancestral lands, was scheduled to meet with her tomorrow. Tuesday would be the biweekly meeting of the Royal Court, with all the nobles and governors in attendance. After that, more meetings with provincial governors until Friday afternoon.

Celestia furrowed her brow and sighed. The Thestralis issue had dogged her for the last two centuries. It had seen a boost in economic prosperity since being absorbed by Equestria over a millennium before and the precious metals mined there – particularly silver, platinum and a few other rare elements that nopony could agree on a name for – were a boon for both domestic consumption and export. But as ponies had moved in looking for opportunity, relations between bat ponies and newcomer races had gradually soured. The non-Thestral minority was now dominating and abusing the bat ponies. Decree after decree, governor after governor, nothing changed. Compounding the issue was that bat ponies hadn’t provided any candidates to govern their home province. They wanted to be Equestrians but didn’t participate in the system, either due to suppression or unwillingness.

Could that be a plot by Athena to destabilize the region? Possibly. Or the same old combination of stubbornness and incompetence I attributed it to before could be the cause.

Perhaps when the court assembles I should ask for candidates from outside Thestralis who could go in without prejudice. Over two hundred years of trying a dozen solutions drawing from within the province hasn’t worked.

Celestia shook her head. She’d discuss this tomorrow with the governor. In the meantime, she travelled over to the human’s quarters, notifying a guard of where she would be going. Captain Mitchell had taken a turn in the tents in the garden rather than the indoor quarters Celestia had provided for the humans.

She arrived after five minutes or so of walking. Some of the humans were performing some sort of vivisection of their weapons, others reading or writing. Some were enjoying a mild autumn morning and laying on the grass. There were some looks shot at her as she walked by, but she ignored them.

A soldier walked up to her, having just come out of a tent alongside a few others. “Ma’am, are you looking for Captain Mitchell?” He asked.

“I am. Where can I find him?”

“In that tent behind me.” He gestured with his head.

“Thank you.” She smiled.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled and nodded.

They walked past each other. Celestia entered the tent. There were many devices inside, the computers the humans used that reminded her distantly of the arcade machines that were proliferating across Equestria.

Captain Mitchell stood over a simple, folding table. On it were maps of Equestria and the known lands of Equis. A glass of water, half-empty, sat next to them. A list of something or other laid next to it, with a pen in Mitchell’s hand.

He looked up at her. “Good morning, Princess.”

“Good morning, Captain.”

Mitchell pushed off the table and stood up straight.

“What are the maps for?”

“I was just holding a meeting with the team leaders. In light of the current threat, I’ve set up a more rigorous rotation of teams. At any one time, one team of four or five Ghosts will be available for deployment. Two teams of Special Forces will also be available for deployment in the split-six configuration they were attached to this task force as or as an ad hoc composite twelve-man ODA. One team will be as near your position as possible without revealing their existence performing close protection duty, and one team of SF will remain here at camp for rest, augmenting camp security and ready for emergency situations if need be. The Ghost teams will rotate through these duties as I see necessary, and the SF teams will rotate either every four days or after every deployment, whichever comes first. Right now, my team’s in the rest phase, but we’ll cycle to close protection tomorrow.”

“Were you going to inform me of your plans to guard me?”

“I was. We don’t want to make this difficult for you, and we want to do this effectively. I was also going to ask who to deliver this list to.” He tapped the sheet of paper with the pen in his hand.

“What is it?”

“Grocery list. Fresh food would be good for morale.”

“I’ll pass it off to a guard on the way out.”

“So, what brings you down here?”

“I wanted to discuss the future.”

“A little soon for that, don’t you think?”

They laughed.

“I meant, what happens when we return you home? Your people are coping remarkably well with the situation. I’m still a little baffled by your willingness to aid us.”

“The best defense is a good offense. As long as the Aegis threat exists it’s a threat to my people ever returning home. At the very least this buys us time until your people get us a ticket home.”

“But what happens when you get home? I’m not an expert on the technical side of Sun Streak, but the portals we’ll open won’t be limited to ones we can create and control. Some ponies will end up on your world by mistake. Not just ponies either, anything that gets sucked in to an incidental portal could end up on the other side.”

Mitchell sighed and crossed his arms.

“You’re talking about a first contact scenario. A large-scale, unregulated one.”

“Yes.”

“First off, how much spread will we see on my world between portals?”

“I don’t know exactly, they’ll spread out in a wave from the initial point of controlled exit. The suction effect for the incidental portals should only be on this world. This is all incredibly theoretical magic that’s being worked on.”

“It’d go over my head anyway.”

“Be blunt. I need to know the political situation and how first contact would go over.”

“It’ll rock a lot of people’s worlds. I think shows of goodwill would go a very long way to reassuring people this isn’t an invasion. Alien invasions are a common science fiction subgenre for us, so people will jump to conclusions pretty fast.”

“What about contact with individual humans?”

“I’d expect people to either freak out or stare. Now, if for instance some pony ends up on a ranch in Texas that’s been dealing with wild boars, there’s a chance that pony ends up shot dead. Luckily ponies don’t look like monsters or the aliens we’re used to seeing in fiction, or threatening at all, so that’s not as big a risk as it could be.”

“I could announce to Equestria what’s about to happen, it would make this go smoother on our end. After the Aegis are no longer a threat, of course. Proving goodwill shouldn’t be too difficult. We can provide expertise on any beasts that slip through, and offers of material wealth to your leadership should help.”

Mitchell shook his head. “Don’t try and bribe our politicians. If you want to make an offering to American interests, that’s another thing. Strategic resources are something you can talk to policy wonks about.”

“What about people? Who will I be talking to?”

“The two main foreign policy movers in the executive branch, President James Ballantine and Secretary of State Dennis Yamagishi. Both are level-headed guys. I’m sure Captain Miller can put in a good word that’ll help you with the legislature; his father’s a senator from Pennsylvania and chairs the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. You’re dealing with a great lineup.”

Celestia breathed a sigh of relief. Some of these questions had been nagging her for days. Some of the titles and terminology were foreign to her, but Captain Mitchell seemed honest and optimistic about the whole thing.

“Should I come to you for advice about foreign policy?”

“I’d rather you didn’t. I try not to make value judgements about foreign policy if I can help it. It makes my job a lot easier.”

“Alright. In any case, I think we need to discuss what you found on your mission to the Griffon Kingdom.”

“You’ll have the after-action reports and artifacts we’ve gathered before noon.”

The two of them then discussed the particulars of how the close protection detail would work with Princess Celestia’s schedule, and how to conceal the humans. A semi-active field of illusion magic was settled upon for the latter issue, as it would cause them to appear as Royal Guard to everyone until an eventuality occurred where they would need to use their weapons.

Mitchell gathered three Ghosts – Ramirez, Hume and Brown – for a test run of the spell and explained what was about to happen.

“Are you ready?” Celestia asked.

The Ghosts all nodded. They felt a slight numbness as Celestia’s horn glowed, and they became translucent, with translucent white ponies taking their places.

“Hmm.”

“Aren’t we supposed to look like ponies to each other?” Mitchell asked.

“Yes, let me try again.”

Celestia’s horn lit up again and this time their bodies became invisible, replaced by alabaster stallions in gold armor.

“This is freaky,” Ramirez said.

“Okay, I can see myself normally, but you all look the same to me,” Brown said, eliciting chuckles from the other Ghosts. “So, same with you guys?” They nodded their heads.

“Well, the Royal Guards do look like they came out of a factory. Is there a reason for that?”

“Their armor is meant to make them look identical, with only minor differences in the engravings of each helmet,” Celestia explained. “It was meant to protect their identities in the days when this world was much more chaotic and violent.”

“So why the trouble in casting the spell?” Mitchell asked.

“I’ve noticed something of an increase in difficulty in magic usage while humans are around. The more of you there are, the more energy it takes to perform a given action for anything more complex than telekinesis.”

“So, we’re throwing you off.”

“Somewhat. I’ll need to radiate more magic to maintain the illusionary field, but nothing remotely draining for me.”

“Are we magic sponges?”

“Think of magic as sound. In a room with poor acoustics, one may need to talk louder to be heard past a certain distance. In another room, there may be a slight echo. Another may have the ambient noise drowning out speech. Yet another may have objects that soak up the vibrations in the air that make sound. The magic used be unicorns and alicorns is the most well-understood form of magic, and we are able to project the magic generated by our bodies into useful purposes, while the magic earth ponies and pegasi use is limited to physical contact and to some extent depends on reactions with ambient magic.”

“There’s no magic on Earth. No real magic at least. We do have stories of it, so maybe it did exist on Earth at some point. Still, even in folklore, humans using magic is relatively rare.”

“Ambient magic is constant in some form or another. There are places where it can lay dormant until triggered by enough magic used by ponies or others; your world’s magic may simply lie dormant. But ambient submission on anything resembling that scale is unheard of.”

“There are seven billion humans now. Our population exploded around the beginning of the last century when it hit a billion. I can see that coming into play.”

“Maybe the sheer number of humans eventually suppressed the few magic-users’ abilities, and the ambient magic became dormant.”

“Well the million-dollar question is ‘how does this effect Sun Streak’?” Hume added.

“I’m doubtful it will. Once the system is worked out, magic output should be the main issue. This could alter the current theoretical models, but not in a fundamentally disruptive way. If anything, this magic resistance appears to be a defense mechanism augmented by awareness of magic.” Celestia smiled. “If anypony here is willing to be a test subject, I’m sure our experts would appreciate the opportunity to cast all manner of spells on you.”

The Ghosts laughed nervously. Celestia’s horn glowed for a brief moment and their disguises disappeared. Mitchell dismissed the Ghosts.

“I’d like to see the progress on Sun Streak. Would you mind providing an escort?”

“I can take you there myself. I’ve got nothing on my plate today.”

Mitchell followed Celestia through the camp as she headed back towards the castle.

“I felt a little numb when you cast that spell. Is that normal?”

Celestia cocked an eyebrow. “No, it’s not. The more I think about the way your kind reacts to magic the more curious I become.” She chuckled “Twilight will have a field day with what I’ve learned so far.”

“It’s nice seeing young people that eager to learn.” Mitchell frowned with half his mouth. “Jesus, I sound old saying that.”

“How old are you?”

The two of them entered the castle, strolling through the halls of the until-recently disused portion of the structure that was now used by the humans.

“I turned 38 a few months ago. That’s about half the average lifespan for a human in the developed parts of my world.”

“Ponies live about as long. I’m a bit over 1,300 years old. I’ve no inkling of how long I could theoretically live, but I’d wager less than half my lifespan is gone, if that.”

“You look pretty good for someone older than Charlemagne,” Mitchell said as they walked by a set of glass sculptures of armored ponies.

Celestia scrunched her face. “I feel like you just reference human culture and history to deliberately confuse ponies sometimes.”

“You’re right, I do.” Mitchell grinned.

“Two can play at that game.”

“Sure you can, but Twilight isn’t in on it and she’d obviously be happy to educate us for just a few tidbits about human history and cultures.”

“You don’t play fair, do you?”

“The only game with rules I hold sacred is baseball.”

“There you go again.”

“Hey, there’s no reason to bring Ronald Reagan into this.”

Celestia bit her lower lip and stifled a laugh.

“Alright, you win, Captain.”

The two of them continued to the lab. Celestia took some back routes to avoid visitors, who often came to tour the castle on weekends. She would greet them whenever she came across them, though she wouldn’t actively seek them out. Especially not today.

“Your wound from the attack healed pretty quick.”

She tilted her head to the side briefly, then looked at Mitchell. “One of the perks of being an alicorn I suppose. You know, I was talking to Twilight earlier about how our cinema is dominated by superhero movies, comedies and cheesy romance films. What’s yours like?”

“Similar, but add in historical dramas, action movies and horror films. Horror is a big one because it’s cheap to make, so profit margins are pretty good. Superhero movies are expensive, but they rake in cash.”

A few moments after that answer, Mitchell scowled.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m still angry about Man of Steel.”

“Why?”

“It was supposed to be Superman’s big return to movies. But there were so many things wrong with that movie. Poor characterization and lack of character development, and the tone was all wrong, too dark and gloomy. They took the formula Nolan used for Batman and slapped it on Superman, with a less competent director. I didn’t want the goofy mess the Donner movies were, but damn it, Superman is supposed to be a beacon of hope and optimism, fighting for truth, justice and the American way. Treating him like a slightly less edgy and way more powerful Batman was a horrible thing.”

Celestia did a double-take. “You really do seem upset.”

“I am. I grew up with Superman and I always admired his uncompromising moral fortitude, despite how easy it would be for him to declare himself the ruler of the Earth, or just kill all his enemies, though he never had a strict no-kill rule like Batman. Seeing all that made Superman special thrown away because the director had to live up to the Dark Knight trilogy was a shame.”

“If you admire him so much, how do you reconcile his hesitance to kill with your work being so focused on just that?”

“I’m not Superman.”

The two walked the rest of the way in silence. After a while they arrived at the lab where the Sun Streak project was underway.

The room was quite spacious, with a stage to the left of the entrance, a remnant of when it was a theater hall. Light filtered in through windows behind and in front of the stage, and from the side opposite the entrance. There were assorted magical trinkets on some desks, with clipboards, notebooks and loose-leaf paper organized on other desks. Several chalkboards were strewn across the room, with formulae and diagrams on them. One of the desks had the “heart” of the sapphire mare Mitchell and his team had neutralized mounted on a small pedestal and protected by glass.

More than a dozen unicorns worked busily, stopping only to bow towards Celestia briefly and stare at Captain Mitchell. They talked among themselves. Twilight Sparkle conversed with an azure-coated, midnight-maned mare whose golden eyes hid behind a pair of round, thin frame glasses. Her cutie mark – a silver, rolled up scroll oriented diagonally, crossed by a quill and overlaid on a seven-pointed magenta star – was slightly obscured by a maroon turtleneck. They didn’t notice the two visitors until they were within a few feet of them.

The blue mare did a double-take and then bowed, with Twilight following.

“Princess, I didn’t notice you come in. And, um…” The mare stared at Mitchell nervously. This was probably the first time she’d seen a human up close.

“Captain Scott Mitchell.”

“Nice to meet you, Captain. I’m Star Quill.”

“Captain Mitchell and I would like to know what progress you’ve made,” Celestia asked her.

“Yes, well, we’re working to pin down a location based on astral projection and homing in on the peculiar thaumatic harmonics of humans. The former method is more for checking our work, we can’t possibly check every planet in the universe and it’s incredibly draining to boot.”

“And you’re already familiar with how their harmonics work?”

Star Quill frowned. “We don’t actually know how they work. There are as many hypotheses as ponies in this room. What we do know is that we can find humans based on this and tracing them through the threads that bind the universe.”

“Why is that sapphire heart over there?” Mitchell asked.

“Well, we were analyzing that and discussing the compressed space phenomenon Artemis Arrow described, when one of our staff picked it up and found himself wandering northwest. He caught himself and chalked it up to absentmindedness, though for as long as I’ve known him he’s never been that way. So a second member of our group attempted to move it back to where it was originally and caught himself heading northwest as well. We came to the conclusion there was suggestion magic involved and put it in that glass container and placed a ward over it to keep it under control.”

“When I handled the original form of that thing, I didn’t have that problem. Actually, when I encountered a pedestal on my last mission, the idea popped into my head to place that orb on the pedestal and I don’t know why.”

“So the suggestion magic had little effect on you, maybe none, until the suggestion was almost carried out?”

“Sounds like it.”

“Maybe human resistance to magic is a defense mechanism?” Twilight posited.

Star turned to her and nodded. “Possible. We just don’t know enough about them. They could have any number of reactions to certain types of magic, and our sample size isn’t large enough either.”

“Ideally we just learn to work around or through the harmonics issue for the Sun Streak program, but in the long-term this could pose a problem.”

“Well, from what we’ve observed, magic functions unhindered by human presence so long as two basic rules are followed. First, it can’t be inherently harmful or malicious in nature. Second, it can’t directly affect a human, or any magical effects will have diminished effect on said human. You’re right though, the harmonics issue, once solved, could change things.”

Mitchell cleared his throat to remind them he was still present. Celestia stifled a chuckle.

“Right, sorry. Anyway, the compressed space phenomenon is interesting but doesn’t have much bearing on our research, though it could be interesting in the future. Likewise with the suggestion magic the orb uses. It’s still the mechanistic magic we’re familiar with at least. But with live test subjects, or at least tissue samples, we can begin to chase down human thaumatic harmonics better. And better understanding of HTH means we can find your world faster and create more efficient portals.”

Mitchell bit his lip. “I think I’ll stick with a tissue sample.”

***

After a brief workout, Reeves sat down in the grass and enjoyed the cool morning air. It reminded him of the time his grandparents took him up to Flagstaff. He missed Arizona. The humidity of his duty station at Eglin Air Force Base was a real drag, though he was sure Raynor didn’t mind. He cut the tracks on that train of thought. Indulging in homesickness wouldn’t help his current situation.

Instead, he went over to his tent and grabbed his Mk 16, bringing it just outside the entrance to his very humble – hopefully very temporary – abode to enjoy the weather. He fiddled with the side-flip magnifier a bit, then popped the captive pins and field stripped the weapon. He spent a little time cleaning the op rod and its tube and added just a little lube where he felt the bolt carrier group needed it, then reassembled the weapon. He would’ve preferred an AR-pattern rifle like a Mk 18 Mod 1, an HK416 like the Ghosts were running, or his personal favorite, the M4A1 SOPMOD Block II. But the SCAR platform wasn’t bad at all.

He loaded a magazine, chambered a round and put the weapon on safe. Then he drew his Glock 21 and began field stripping that for cleaning.

“Doing a little maintenance?”

Reeves looked up. It was Clark Miller, Falcon team’s leader. The blonde, brown-eyed officer sat down next to him.

“Yeah. Already touched up my SCAR. Not much to do, so I thought I’d do the Glock too.”

“Jesus, you really are bored if you’re cleaning a Glock.”

“Hey, a clean gun is a happy gun, and when my guns are happy, I’m happy.”

“Can’t argue that.”

Reeves sighed. “Can I be straight with you?”

“Yeah.”

“I feel like a lot of this mission – not this mission, but what we deployed to do – we emulated the Ghosts in some awkward ways. Cutting our ODAs in half, the rifle selection piggybacking off the Ghosts’, going with .45 instead of 9mm, it just doesn’t fit.”

“I guess someone with a higher pay grade decided to experiment with the split six as a standard. As for the rest, it is what it is.”

“Yeah. I’m not pissed or anything, it’s just awkward. I’m happy to work with the Ghosts, but this whole thing is just layers of weird.”

“So do you take issue with .45?”

“No, but I prefer 9mm since most pistol cartridges give similar performance anyway.”

“10mm Auto doesn’t.”

“Yeah, but unfortunately most factory loadings duplicate .40 Smith & Wesson ballistics.”

Miller sighed and frowned. “Yeah, you do need boutique ammo or a reloading bench to really take advantage of it.”

“Well, any which way I can work with what we’ve got. It’s like fudds say, ‘They all fall to hardball’, and I guess that applies to these Aegis too.”

“Your team hit those guys, right? How skilled were they?”

“My personal experience was an ambush where we wiped them out. They were disorganized and didn’t respond well. The Ghosts sounded like they had firmer resistance, but they didn’t seem fazed. I’d guess they’re trained and mostly professional, decent but not great in a firefight.”

“So they’re a credible threat? My team’s on offense starting tomorrow, so I’d like your opinion.”

“I’d say so, yeah. Obviously they’re big on asymmetric warfare, but they seem more focused on that than anything. They’re not bringing any other capabilities to the table. Look at us – SF I mean – most of us have infantry experience and those that don’t have some other skillset they’ve brought in. These guys probably do guerrilla shit like sabotage, targeted killings and hit-and-fade attacks for the most part, but don’t seem to have any experience on the defensive or being in a real firefight.”

“It sounds like they’re dangerous because this Athena mare is using a half-decent SOF in an effective manner, on top of whatever else she has going on.”

“Yeah, the political manipulations Athena is probably pulling could be way more dangerous than the Aegis troops. I mean, she’s probably responsible for what went down at the Everfree Castle, directly or indirectly. Those Champions and C13 ponies are pretty nasty too. I don't know who we're scratching off of which list, or if they're even on one of those lists.”

“Let’s cross our fingers we don’t have too much more trouble from them,” Miller suggested with a grin.

“And keep our weapons ready in case we get it.” Reeves responded.

Author's Note

Holy shit, this FimFic update means I no longer have to spend half an hour manually re-formatting with my shitty internet connection. Wait, no, it dropped out typing this. I had this chapter ready for like a week, but my laptop has gotten really finicky about connecting to wifi.

Damnatio Memoriae

Agon Province
0712 hours
October 18, 1196 CE
Day 7
Operation Invisible Hand

The Ghosts, Viper Team and Artemis moved north through the desert on their way to Agon City. They kept an eye out for local fauna; there was no telling what kind of creatures lived in this desert.
Intelligence suggested that the Griffon Army used human equipment lightly modified for their use. Unfortunately, precise information on what weaponry was being used was unavailable, though Mitchell’s sighting of Smith & Wesson Model 59s or domestically produced clones thereof in Canterlot suggested that those would probably show up.

After an hour or so of travelling, they neared the peak of a ridge, giving them a clear view of Agon City. A sandy incline would allow them to slide down when they were ready to move.
The group got on their bellies and began observing the area through binoculars.
Agon City’s architecture was a mix of brick-and-mortar structures in some areas, and Pueblo-esque buildings in others. It was like a timeline of the city’s growth.

The southwest of the city was a mix of the latter two architectural styles, and faint clouds of smoke could be seen coming from the area. There was a conflict going on in this city. And it was likely being fomented by the Strangers. That was definitely a good place to start looking for them.

“UAV phase, sir?” Reeves asked.

The simulated demotion to reinforce chain-of-command was still in effect, else he would’ve had one of his men launch one himself. Mitchell was considering suspending that protocol, which had been a rear-echelon decision made when the mission to Cuba was planned.

“Yeah. Beasley, put that Raven in the air,” Mitchell responded, then ordered.

“On it.”

The rifleman opened a package he’d carried in on his back and began assembling the UAV. He started it up and launched it. The feed linked into their Crosscoms almost instantly, and Mitchell took control.

The drone took under a minute to reach the area they were interested in. He repeatedly switched between the color video camera and infrared camera on the machine.

“At least two companies of Royal Griffon Army troops in the AO, probably more than that. At least one RPG.” Mitchell spent another two minutes utilizing the drone. “Warhound lead, I’m transferring the UAV’s control to your end. Keep it on station as long as you can, try and find an RGA command post or any unknowns. When the power hits bingo bring it back and send out the other Raven.”

“Copy. How should we act if you need us as a QRF?”

“Plans haven’t changed from what they were. Bring Albatross around and have it touch down on the nearest LZ to our position. Have them open up with the GAU-17 if necessary. Just remember, even if we can convert water to hydrogen fuel for our birds, we’re still in the desert, and we need 30% of the tank to make it back to Canterlot.”

“Wilco.”

“Good, Mitchell out. Ghosts, Vipers, move out.”

Viper Team put on Ops-Core FAST helmets. Not all of the Ghosts wore protective headgear, only Mitchell, Beasley and Smith, who each wore a Crye AirFrame helmet. Nolan wore a baseball cap, Diaz wore a boonie hat, and Jenkins didn’t wear anything besides his Crosscom.
The group slid down the incline of the ridge they’d been observing from, bringing them to the level of the city. The soldiers and their armed advisor cautiously made their way to the conflict area. A few frightened civilians caught glimpses of them before shutting their windows.

“Be advised, you have eleven unknowns in a three-story building coming up on your left at the next intersection on that road. All unknowns are equine, probably not locals,” Warhound’s leader, Rafael Serrano, informed them.

“Acknowledged.” Mitchell set a waypoint on the building with his Crosscom. The teams began hugging the wall while moving towards the building, keeping a low profile.

When they reached the building adjacent to the target, they stopped. A quick FLIR scan with their Crosscoms didn’t show any occupants. Quickly and quietly, they moved in. Once they were certain the building was secure, they set up defensive positions. Most of them took drinks from their Camelbaks and canteens.

Mitchell opened a pouch on his hip and removed a Cole Specialist Systems Tri-Rotor. The Frisbee-sized UAV had been developed by a then-employee of Fourth Echelon three years prior, during the Blacklist attacks. It had a fifteen-minute battery that recharged when inactive, low noise signature, a directional microphone for eavesdropping, and the newest models had multiple vision filters. The variant Mitchell was using eschewed the four-shot less-lethal weapon system but retained the self-destruct charge. Unfortunately, it could only travel 150 meters from the operator before the signal dropped like a rock. Still, it was invaluable for urban operations and ISR.

The captain activated the drone and took control, his Crosscom giving him the drone’s perspective displayed on the left half of the monocle, and a game console-styled controller providing his interface. The audio/visual feed streamed to the others’ Crosscoms as well. The UAV floated out the window and ascended to the top floor of the target building.

Scott counted three ponies; two unicorns, one pegasus. They were bound, though they seemed resigned to their situation at the moment. He noticed something about them after a moment, that their clothes were the same as the Strangers who’d attacked a week ago, though with some subtle ornamentation.

The Tri-Rotor’s directional microphone picked up hoofsteps heading in from the left. The audio wasn’t as clear as if he was there in the room, but they sounded different than what he’d come to associate with “normal” hoofsteps. They sounded heavier.

The prisoners looked up at the arrival, then down shamefully.

“You know why you’re here,” a dignified feminine voice said with an air of disappointment. Most likely the same individual he’d heard cantering in.

“Yes, Madame, but we were told to eliminate her by one of your envoys. We thought the order came from you,” A prisoner responded.

“You should’ve been able to tell the orders were counterfeit, you’re not stupid. Your organization has been overzealous for too long, risking the Aegis Assembly as a whole. The premature attempt on Celestia was the final straw. Your branch’s responsibilities now fall to the Aegis Forces. The Strangers are hereby dissolved.”

The source of the voice stepped forwards. It was an alicorn with a silver coat, sapphire eyes and flowing obsidian mane. She wore a maroon cloak, and a charcoal vest beneath it.

“Yes. What is our fate?”

“You know the penalty for betrayal,” The alicorn responded coolly. She lit her horn with a shimmering pearl light, with a corresponding light emanating from a spot on the left side of her torso.

She drew a pistol – a CZ-75 variant by the looks of it – and fired a single shot into each of their chests. The volume of the weapon’s sound and muzzle flash were significantly larger than a common pistol caliber should’ve produced.

“Open an Aegis Gate,” The mare said to someone out of sight. “I’m returning to my temple. Tell Lupe and the others to continue our operations here.”

A flash came from behind her, and she walked towards the light. A strange sound came from the same spot, and the light disappeared.

“Captain, I just lost one of the unknowns on thermal,” Serrano said with concern. “Just disappeared. The others are already heading west, back towards the combat zone.”

“Copy, Warhound. Keep us posted.” Mitchell recalled the drone, and reviewed the video. “Damn it. Who the hell was that?”

“Don’t know, but it looks like things here are more complicated than we thought,” Artemis piped in.

“She looked like the statue we saw in the Everfree Castle on our last op,” Reeves said. “The statue was in bad condition, but the colors sort of match.”

Mitchell paused for thought before speaking. “The Strangers may not be an issue anymore, but it looks like their parent organization is up to the same things. And if the attempt on Princess Celestia was just ‘premature’, it was going to happen sooner or later. The threat is still real, and the mission is still on,” Mitchell said. “I’m saving the feed from the drone. As soon as we have more intel on operations in this region, we’ll send images and audio of that alicorn Jane Doe back to Canterlot. Maybe Princess Celestia can ID her.”

“Was that a Bren Ten?” Reeves wondered aloud. “Sure looked like it.”

“Looked like one. Muzzle flash makes more sense with 10mm Auto behind it.” Jenkins noted. “Maybe she’s even got magic bullets for it.”

“This Warhound, we’ve found an RGA command post half a klick from your position, engaging an enemy group in cover. There’s a platoon-size presence there, with unknowns heading their way. Marking it on your Crosscoms. Out.”

“Alright, pull up the tactical map on your Crosscoms,” Mitchell ordered. “Here’s the gameplan: Viper Team and Artemis are going to head northwest and search for those bodyguards, or anyone like them. They should have information on this ‘Aegis Assembly’s’ presence in Agon. The Ghosts and I are going to head west-southwest to the RGA command post and attempt to obtain available intel on Aegis, Strangers, or any other third party to this conflict.”

“ROE?” Reeves asked.

“Aegis forces are hostile. Engage at will, capture if there’s a solid opportunity. The RGA don’t know about us being here, and we’ll do what we can to keep it that way; barring that, let’s try not to make them our enemies. Move out.”

The group exited the building cautiously and split off, heading towards their respective objectives. The smell of smoke, gunpowder and burning flesh steadily intensified as the Ghosts approached their goal.

Paul Smith, who’d been on point, raised a fist and took a knee. The others stopped as well.

“You hear that?” He asked.

The sound of dozens of wingbeats could be faintly heard above the close by din of battle. And they were getting louder.

About platoon’s worth of Royal Griffon Army soldiers soared northwest over the Ghosts towards the fray, assault rifles in their talons. The Ghosts couldn’t get a good look at what sort of rifles they were.

“I can almost hear Ride of the Valkyries,” Nolan remarked.

After the soldiers were gone, Smith signaled all-clear.

“Go.”

They resumed their advance. It was brisk and tense as they all kept an eye out for ambushes. They were within three hundred meters of the target when they heard a cacophony of gunfire break out. Within half a minute the shooting stopped, and all that could be heard were the screams of the mortally wounded, soon silenced by sporadic gunshots.

“What the hell was that?”

“Don’t know. Warhound lead, can you get us a feed on the CP?”

“Affirmative.”

After seventeen seconds by Mitchell’s count, red diamonds started appearing on his HUD and those of the other Ghosts. There were exactly 12 of them.

“ID on the OPFOR?”

“Negative. Not RGA. Be advised, there’s a wooden clock tower south of your position with a view of the CP. Two targets inside, probable sniper’s nest. No visible footmobiles outside the tower.”

“Copy. Diaz, Smith, take that building. Eliminate any hostiles, take up a sniping position.”
The two of them nodded and moved out. After a few minutes, two red diamonds disappeared, and the sniper-spotter team radioed back.

“Two down. Building secure. We’ve got overwatch, Captain.”

“Enemy composition?”

“Mixed griffon-equine force. Either Galil SARs or Vektor R5s; sidearms look like Hi-Powers. No ballistic protection I can see. Might be a different unit of the same CECS special operations unit Viper Team ran into a few days ago. Lots of RGA casualties, real fresh, probably where all that gunfire came from a few minutes ago.”

“There’s plenty of cover in the camp, you could probably sneak in,” Diaz continued. “There’s a lot of bodies, and not a lot of spec ops still here. I’d guess most of ‘em bugged out after the fight, and the ones still here are just gathering intel.”

Serrano piped in. “The large tent in the center looks like a commander’s. I bet that’s where any intel will be. Thermal from the UAV shows three equines inside, probably officers. Fourteen griffons bound and gagged in a nearby tent to the north.”

“Acknowledged. Jenkins, Nolan, infiltrate from west of the command tent, stay low. Beasley, stay on me. Diaz, Smith, stay on overwatch. Everyone go quiet.”

The Ghosts drew their sidearms – HK45Ts with flat dark earth frames – and screwed on sound suppressors. The ambient gunfire and explosions that echoed through the city would further disguise the sound of their weapons. Their HK416A5s were already running 10.5-inch barrels and suppressors, but they wanted extra quiet for this.

Jenkins and Nolan split off and headed west. Mitchell and Beasley waited for a few moments and sprinted to cover, near the base.
The two pairs moved towards the command tent. After they passed the outer array of tents, Mitchell stopped and hugged a wall. Three hostiles were nearby according to his Crosscom.

“Three right on top of us,” He whispered.

“One equine, two griffons,” Diaz said.

A trio of red diamonds signified three enemies a few meters away, just around the corner on their right.

“They just stopped. One’s pulling out some smokes. Another has a lighter.”

Mitchell and Beasley raised their sidearms.

“You take the equine, I’ll take the griffon… Go,” Mitchell whispered.

They rounded the corner and double-tapped their targets. Beasley’s dropped without issue. Mitchell’s target tried to scream and charge, but all he could manage was a gurgle and a lunge, so Mitchell made his double-tap a Mozambique Drill and put one in the target’s head. The victims dropped unceremoniously and the operators hid the bodies inside a tent that was populated with RGA corpses to avoid raising any alarms. There was already plenty of blood from the original occupants of this camp, and the desert sun would soon dry out the blood from the fresher kills, unless the clouds off in the distance got there first.

“Targets neutralized. Bodies hidden.”

“Jenkins, Nolan, two ponies coming up on your left,” Smith said.

“Got ‘em… Bodies hidden. We’re at the target and waiting on you, Ghost lead.”

Mitchell and Beasley proceeded further towards the tent. A lone soldier unfortunate enough to be in their path was shot by both of them, and his body promptly hidden.

The two regrouped with Nolan and Jenkins, who were hiding in a storage tent technically separate from the command tent but more or less part of it.

“Ghost lead, Viper lead is requesting aerial coverage,” Serrano informed him. “We’ve got about half an hour before we have to bring the Raven back here. Do you need coverage?”

“Negative, we can handle this. Give Viper what they need.”

Mitchell drew his knife and thrust it through the fabric separating him from the command tent. He sheathed the blade and stuck a flexible fiber-optic camera through the hole he’d cut. It was a slightly improved version of the one used by Rainbow, with color, night vision, and a short-range “black-hot” thermal sensor.

There were three ponies inside, all pegasi. Two had dull gray-blue shoulder stripes, and one had dark red stripes. The stripes were an inch wide and three inches long, and ran parallel to the ponies’ forelegs; they weren’t bright, gaudy colors that would compromise their camouflage too much, and were probably meant to facilitate quick battlefield identification amongst allies. Subdued rank patches marked their flanks. The blues had single pale olive horizontal stripes on a black shield. The red-stripe had a similar insignia, but with twin stripes. The red-stripe was most likely the senior.

“I see three of them. Probably officers. Two have blue shoulder-stripes, one has red shoulder-stripes. Red’s being treated like a higher ranking officer and has an older-model Uzi with a folded metal stock; he’s our guy. We’ll stack up at the south entrance to the command tent and flashbang them. Beasley, Nolan, load your M26s with XREP slugs. Jenkins, you’ll be the one flashing them. Move.”

The Ghosts left the sub-tent and circled to the south side. The flaps hung limply, giving a dim view of the interior. They hadn’t been spotted yet.

Jenkins pulled an M84 flashbang from his vest and readied it. Beasley and Nolan changed magazines and cycled the bolts on their M26 MASS underbarrel shotguns. Mitchell readied several zip-ties and his sidearm.

“Go.”

Jenkins pulled the pin on the grenade in his hand, and threw it into the tent. Just under two seconds later, the weapon detonated inside. The sound of the detonation kicked the Ghosts into action.

Beasley and Nolan moved in first and fired a single Taser XREP slug from their underbarrel M26 MASS for each of the three hostiles, the impact and effect of the electroshock projectiles incapacitating them further than the flashbangs had. Nolan rapidly zip-tied the incapacitated ponies, who were still recovering from the effects of the flashbang. The XREP slugs kept their muscles beyond their control, and would for long enough to zip-tie their legs together.

“Clear!” The Ghosts shouted one-by-one.

“HVTs are shaken up, but they’re secure,” Mitchell reported over the radio.

The ponies groaned as they recovered from the assault. After around twenty seconds, they’d be lucid enough for interrogation.

Mitchell looked around. There were maps attached to cork bulletin boards, with maps of the city and the region as a whole. He made sure his Crosscom had a clear shot of each, for later analysis. Areas of high activity, suspected equipment caches, strongholds, and other facilities for the Free Wing Army were circled in red, and each had a letter next to it to indicate what the circle was meant to note. Some had been crossed out. The Strangers – Aegis Assembly now, apparently – were listed as “Unidentified Opposing Force” and had the same symbology, but were color-coded black. The suspected CECS forces were colored orange. RGA forces were blue.

After the captives’ recovery time was up, Mitchell knelt next to them and began interrogating them.

***

Alicia Diaz swept the sights of her suppressed HK417A2 around the camp, watching for anything that might endanger the rest of the team. They swept for a few minutes after the flashbangs went off.

“Diaz. Rustling in the tent north of the team.” Smith said to her.

She shifted her aim northwards. There were fourteen orange diamonds inside, signifying the potentially hostile RGA prisoners taken during the CECS raid. They probably would’ve been interrogated by CECS operatives later, when the main raiding force returned. The canvas on the outside of the tent was flapping, and definitely not from the breeze.

It was too far for the IR function on her Crosscom monocle to make out, and in any case, between the thick canvas and abundance of bodies inside it would’ve been impractical to try and discern what was going on inside the tent that way.

Her best guess was that the prisoners were trying to escape their binds, or one of them had done just that and was cutting others free. A griffon in OD fatigues emerged from the tent, followed by a few others.

“Captain, RGA prisoners in the tent 50 meters north of you just got loose,” She said.

“Suppress them. We finished with the prisoners and we’re imaging documents now. Twenty seconds.”

Diaz and Smith both fired their rifles at an area near the RGA regulars to deter their advance. Their weapons were completely inside the building and had suppressors mounted to mask their weapons’ report further and conceal their location. No sniper worth a damn stuck their barrel out a window.

The bullets kicked up dirt where they hit. Some got in the eyes of one of the griffons just as he looked towards the sniper team. The relief at not being compromised didn’t last long. Several of the RGA soldiers had gone into another tent and come out with weapons.

“Captain, the escaped RGA are armed.” She put a few more rounds in the dirt between the rest of the team and the griffons. “I reckon it’s not long before they figure out this busted-up place is a good spot for a sniper and put two and two together.”

“We’re on our way out now,” was Mitchell’s response. “I’ve marked a waypoint north of your position. We’ll rendezvous there.”

After another twenty-ish seconds of carefully paced suppressive fire, Smith patted Diaz on the shoulder and they bugged out.

***

Viper Team and their equine advisor moved northwest. The sounds of fighting intensified and they could hear a firefight along an adjacent street. A brief whoosh and the sound of burning wood came from the same direction.

“Warhound lead, this is Viper lead. I hear a firefight nearby and sounds of a flamethrower. What’ve you got?”

“Muzzle flashes coming from the street and buildings. Flames coming from infantry. RGA must be desperate if they’re using flamethrowers in an urban AO.”

“Copy. We’ll keep an eye out.” Reeves paused.

“Flamethrowers?” Artemis asked.

“Don’t worry, if you get lit you won’t flail around on fire. The smoke inhalation will get you in less than two seconds. The ugly stuff is post-mortem.”

“You’ll scare the girl, boss.” Montes chuckled.

“Immolation isn’t a new risk for me. I’ve dealt with dragons before.”

Brooks motioned for the team to stop and press against a nearby wall.

“Firefight’s moving our direction on a parallel street,” he said.

“Warhound, Viper. Enemy size?”

“RGA force is platoon size at least.”

“Everyone hold, watch for threats,” Reeves ordered. “What’s the best way to kill a dragon?” he asked as he swept his carbine across the street, looking for threats.

“The throat has the thinnest coverage of any vital area. You could hit the eyes, but that’s tough. Any other way takes too long with arrows. Dragons don’t turn up much in these parts, in case you’re wondering.”

“Alright. What sort of creatures might show up and ruin our fun then?”

“Can’t think of any around here, unless we go into ancient temples or caves.”

“Viper, firefight is moving away from you. Activity in a small two-story building a hundred-ten meters north. Big chimney, domed roof. Can’t get a clear view but it’s definitely not RGA inside- dammit!”

“What?”

“Stray round hit the UAV, I think. If it starts acting up, I’m bringing it back.”

“Understood. Let’s move.”

Viper Team advanced towards their new target, stopping when they were just in view of it. There were carts of food, stands and other signs that this used to be a marketplace. The team used the concealment to their advantage, getting a closer view of the building.

It was an old wooden thing. From what was left of a sign on it, it had once sold pastries, candies or confections of some kind. The soft red paint was flecked with dirt and the walls had been pitted and punctured by the ongoing insurrection.
Reeves rested the foregrip of his short-barreled, suppressed Mk 16 on one of the stands and looked through the Aimpoint sight. He saw a unicorn walk by one of the second floor windows. He wore splinter-derived desert camouflage and had a weapon slung across his back.

“Target spotted, unicorn. Armed with an AUG. Looked like the carbine model, 16-inch barrel. Warhound, target count?”

“Six, two on the top floor, four on the ground floor. They’re mostly on the west side. One of the guys on the top floor is standing in one spot, maybe reading something. He might be the boss.”

“Copy.”

The team moved from cover to cover, approaching a door on the east side of the building, which had all of its windows boarded up. Presumably the door was boarded up too. Reeves was unsure why they would board up the east side and leave the south side, initially worried it was a trap. He concluded from a FLIR scan with his Crosscom, some old bullet holes and the mostly-abandoned surroundings that the previous owners had only done the one side before deciding that a boarded up house wasn’t as good a solution to the problem of not dying as not being near a warzone in the first place.

He looked at Brooks and made a heavy knocking motion. Brooks nodded and placed a breaching charge on the door. The team stacked up, with Reeves and Brooks on either side of the door to enter first, followed by Raynor and Montes, then Matsuo and Caputo, then Artemis.

“On three. One. Two. Three.”

Brooks hit the detonator and the door exploded inward.

The team went in by twos just as they’d stacked up. One pony had been killed by the blast wave and was laying against the southern wall by the stairs in a crumpled heap. Reeves put two rounds in a hostile that had been walking by a window on the west side and Brooks did likewise for one next to the first. Montes and Raynor were right on their heels, and Montes put three into one standing by a table on the north side. The others followed them in and they were all inside in slightly under five seconds.

Reeves, Montes and Raynor maintained their momentum and headed up the stairs with Reeves on point. Montes threw a flashbang upstairs. One of the two ponies upstairs used telekinesis to point his AUG downstairs without revealing himself and fired blindly. Some of the bullets flew inches from the operators heads, but on a whole were aimed too high. The flashbang detonated during the burst and the firing stopped. The three of them continued upstairs and Montes kicked the closer stunned Aegis in the throat, then put his boot on the unicorn’s horn. Raynor fired a 40mm airfoil round from his Mk 13 EGLM, temporarily incapacitating the other pony.

All in all, the house took less than fifteen seconds to clear. It was great time for a two-story building, but the simple internal layout and relative lack of enemies had undoubtedly made the job much easier. The need to take two alive had probably added two seconds in this case.
Montes zip-tied the front and hind hooves of both ponies together and Artemis cast a ward over the captured unicorn’s horn to ensure he wouldn’t try anything. Then they were positioned upright with their backs against a wall.

“So who wants to talk first?”

Reeves slung his rifle across his chest, pulled out his knife and held it to the unicorn’s throat. He looked at his earth pony comrade.

Is he asking permission to talk?

The earth pony looked back and narrowed his eyes slightly. The unicorn blinked twice.

They probably don’t even know what I am, but they’re not talking. Not even to ask what I am. Well, judging by the looks I just saw, the earth pony is the boss here.

“Me and my buddies just wiped the floor with you and yours and you don’t even spit in my face to honor their memories? Do you even care they died?”

“Of course we do. But something that juvenile won’t move the dead.”

“Fair enough.” Reeves sheathed his knife, stood up and grabbed the recently fired AUG that was laying on the ground. He then walked over to the table and went over some of the documents on it.

He took pictures with his Crosscom monocle, and then wondered if the term “screencap” was more appropriate given the device’s nature. That took about two minutes, after which he skimmed through what they actually said.

Something about a Champion in Agon Province and something about C13 members. The big boss coming to town to take care of some troublemaker’s personally. There was a bit about escalating tensions and expanding spheres of influence, too. Reeves didn’t spend much time on it. He estimated he had at most ten minutes before somebody showed up to give them trouble over the explosions and gunfire.

“Interesting stuff. So that alicorn was your boss?”

Nothing.

“Don’t answer that, a rhetorical question. How about these Champions or the C13 guys?”

Reeves looked over the AUG he’d picked up.

“Nice. No markings or serials. Don’t know if it’s made here on Equis or just modified.”

“You look at it like you’ve never seen one before,” The earth pony said condescendingly.

“Nah, I just haven’t seen a ‘sanitized’ Steyr AUG before. I wonder if it works the same way they do back home.”

He ejected the magazine and put it back in after inspecting it. He racked the charging handle and an unfired cartridge flew out.

“Well, less rails, but otherwise it’s like the ones I've cross-trained with. Still, it’s been a while since I shot one.” Reeves pointed it at the prisoners. “I kind of want to see if trigger is mushy like I remember it.”

He shoved the barrel into the mouth of the unicorn and pushed him to the ground. The trigger was pulled almost to where it would break and fire the weapon. The prisoner screamed incoherently.

“You know, unless I hit his spine or something important your friend is going to die slowly and very, very painfully,” Reeves shouted. The gun was pushed far enough into the prisoner’s mouth that the vertical foregrip was touching the pony’s chin and he was gagging from the barrel being so far in. “Now, if you want to see your friend get a second breathing hole, by all means keep being silent, because if you don’t talk I’ll kill a lot more of your buddies until I find somebody who will, I promise you that!”

The cold and condescending demeanor of the earth pony shifted to one of worry and then panic. He made the call to limit the damage done.

“Okay! Okay!”

“The Aegis’ goals here, what are they?” Reeves shouted.

“I- I don’t know all of it!”

“Well you better spill what you do, because I’m short on time!”

“We’re here to- to make trouble, make sure this war keeps dragging on!”

“Why?” Reeves shouted again.

“I don’t know!”

“Guess!”

“If Agon breaks off like Griffonstone did, King Agamemnon will probably be assassinated by malcontents in his court, or at least step down. I-I think we have his successor under our control.”

“The C13? The Champions? Who are they?”

“The C13 is a group of thirteen with special skills. The Champions too, but they’re second only to the Wielder of Aegis, the alicorn. I don’t know her name, I swear!”

Reeves pulled the trigger. The hammer dropped, but the firing pin found an empty chamber. He pulled the rifle out of the pony’s mouth. The unicorn coughed and the earth pony was speechless.

The magazine hadn’t been inserted far enough for Reeves to chamber a round. He dropped the rifle and drew his sidearm. He shot both of them, holstered it and grabbed his carbine.

“Let’s get out of here.”

The team regrouped downstairs.

“The hell was that up there?” Brooks asked.

“Probably not torture.” There were no objections. They’d seen far worse done by good guys and bad guys. If it meant they had a better chance of making it back to Earth alive, then they’d live with it. What surprised them most was Artemis not objecting.

“Someone will probably check out what the noise was and find the mess we left them. Let’s regroup with the Ghosts before that happens.”

Half an hour later, the Ghosts and Viper Team linked up in an old adobe house in the southern area of Agon City. The place was boarded up, but there was nothing of value inside. No food, weapons, nothing. But it made a nice shelter, and the fighting was just far enough away that they could relax a little bit.

The two teams shared what information they’d gathered. Both the Aegis Assembly and the CECS were interfering in the war. For the Confederated Eastern City-States it was a proxy conflict with the Allied Western Territories. The Aegis Assembly viewed it as a means to regime change and installing a puppet.

Neither was particularly appealing.

“Warhound, have the Osprey’s crew patch me through to Canterlot.”

“Copy.”

There was a delay of a few minutes while a line of communications was set up. A system of using UAVs as go-betweens to get better signals had been worked out prior to the mission, but it was cumbersome. Their technological advantage had been severely reduced by the lack of satellite coverage and other communications infrastructure they were used to having on Earth.

Finally, a link was established. There was no live visual feed this time, they were stretching their capabilities as it was.

***

Princess Celestia trotted to the command center the humans had set up inside her castle after she was told that the teams deployed to the Griffon Kingdom had come up with a report. She wasn’t looking forward to meeting with nobles and regional governors that afternoon, but this was likely going to be far worse than any arrogant aristocracy.

“Do you remember how to use this?” Lieutenant Rosen asked, gesturing to the communication tool on the table.

“I do.”

“Good. The connection here isn’t too good, so if the audio quality is low, that’s why.”

“Captain Mitchell, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear. First things first, the Strangers have been disbanded and their leaders executed by the mare behind all this. Their ‘responsibilities’ have been passed on to their parent group, the Aegis Assembly. Second, the reason CECS forces are in Agon Province is because this whole conflict has turned into a proxy war between them and the AWT, who are supporting the griffons. Third, the Aegis intend to prolong this conflict or end it in such a manner that King Agamemnon either abdicates or is assassinated. We believe the next in line to the throne is an Aegis puppet.”

It was a lot to take in.

“What do you think the end game is for this Aegis Assembly?”

“Best guess?”

“Please.”

“Influence over major world governments. What we don’t know is how much control she wants or how much she has. She may already have the CECS and AWT in her pocket, or just have some power over some individuals. I want to say it’s that simple, but we don’t know who this alicorn is or if power is an end to her or just the means to something else.”

“Alicorn?” It didn’t seem possible. Theoretically, there could be other alicorns out there, ascended rather than born as such, but the process for that was supposed to heavily favor the benevolent. This alicorn certainly wasn't benign.

“I’ve got a picture of her, I was hoping you’d have some idea of who she is. Sending it now.”

There was a delay between him saying that and the image appearing in front of Celestia. It was extremely distorted at first but it gradually became clear. She was more anxious than she could remember being in her life. If what she was hearing was right, this mare was responsible for widespread death and suffering and had almost killed her.

The image appeared.

It was an alicorn mare. It was her sister.

Athena.

Thoughts raced through Celestia’s head, trying to make sense of the impossible situation. Why was she doing this? The last they’d heard from one-another was ages ago. They hadn’t parted amicably, not after their violent confrontation, but it seemed unlike Athena to be this vindictive or hold a grudge. Her elder sister was an idealist, not a vicious sociopath or a sadist. And why now? Why wait centuries? It couldn’t be right.

But it was right. This was appalling. They had clashed before but whatever had happened since they’d last met had changed Athena. And now her sister had tried to kill her and had bloodied her hooves in a power play. This couldn’t keep going. She had to be stopped somehow.

Celestia realized that her skin was heating up. She had to get a hold of herself.

Athena can’t be stopped if she isn’t found.

“Ma’am?” Mitchell asked.

“That mare is my sister, Athena. She was banished centuries ago after a… a very passionate policy disagreement led to us fighting. She attacked, I had no choice.”

I’m trying to justify why I’m alone again. But I don’t need to justify my own actions to myself. I made those decisions as well as anypony could have.

“She left the area through a portal. An Aegis Gate maybe. Some of her lieutenants are still here. If we hunt them down, we might be able to find out where she operates from, but getting them to talk won’t be easy and time isn’t something we have a lot of with how dynamic this battle is.”

“Hmm.”

Athena always did have a trusted entourage. If she’s making this sort of power play she must have delegated quite a bit of power to her lieutenants. Giving some of her power to them and using them as her envoys seems like her. For that level of magic to be given to another, there needs some mechanism of control and transfer. So…

“Captain Mitchell, if Athena’s disciples must have some sort of artifacts or emblems that are regulating whatever power my sister has given them. They’re not the source of the power and if they lose these talismans I can’t predict the results, but if you can find these artifacts and bring them to me, I may be able to begin a process of tracking her down.”

“Are you asking me to kill them?”

She couldn’t bring herself to say “Yes” outright.

“I’m asking you to do what you need to do to get those talismans. If you need to eliminate them as threats permanently, then that is what you need to do.”

It surprised her how easily she gave the order.

“From the information we’ve gathered, we’ve got a dozen or so places the Aegis could be in this city. We don’t have the resources to check every one, and sooner or later this intel will go bad, if it hasn’t already, and we’ll lose the trail. Any advice on finding our targets?”

That was a good question.

“Do you have anything showing where these Aegis have appeared?”

“Yeah, but there’s no pattern we can find cross-referencing times and locations. It’s random, more or less. The center is the obvious answer, but aerial recon doesn’t show anything there, just a bunch of buildings that’ve been blown to hell.”

“What if there are multiple epicenters for these appearances?”

“Maybe, hold on.” There was a short pause. “Now we’ve got five or so possible epicenters of Aegis activity. We looked at this possibility but we’re not sold on it.”

“There are ley lines running through that city, I’d guess Athena’s followers would make their camps on them to amplify their magic.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Artemis, can you show us where these ley lines are on this map? Great. That narrows it down to two locations on the eastern side of the city. A manor in the northeast and an old mining camp in the southeast, target zones are a few klicks from here. We’re sending the raw intel we’ve gathered so far to Rosen… Hmm.”

“What is it?”

“Looks like storm clouds coming in. Isn’t the weather was all controlled on this world?”

“Only in places where ponies live. Why?”

“How many ponies would it take to cover a fairly large city with a thunderstorm?” Captain Mitchell sounded slightly on edge.

“Only a dozen or so to start it, four to maintain it, if they’re good at their jobs. Why?”

“That’s what I was afraid of. A paramilitary group like the Aegis could easily pull that off. It’s going badly for the Royal Griffon Army here. A thunderstorm would provide good cover for an offensive by them and the rebels.”

“Reasonable, but it also sounds like conjecture. I’m not ready to chalk up every misfortune to Athena and her group.”

“You’re right. Either way, bad weather is good news for insurgents fighting a conventional force that doesn’t have any form of personal night vision equipment. Whether it’s natural or not, the rebels will take advantage of it.”

“Anything else?”

“No ma’am. ”

“Good luck, Captain.”

“Thanks. Mitchell out.”

Celestia sighed through her nose. She needed time to think over all this.

She’d argued with Athena over the absorption of central Helian nations into Equestria centuries ago. Athena had argued against it on both non-interventionist grounds and the grounds that it would create tensions with new neighbors. It had created tensions at the time and there were small irredentist movements in countries to the north of modern-day Equestria, but nothing much ever came of them in the long-term. There had been an incident where the Griffons and the Royal Guard clashed shortly after the expansion of Equestrian borders and Athena had used it as evidence in her arguments.

Athena feared a war that would devastate Equestria. Celestia didn’t. It was that simple difference in opinion that led to a fight, initiated by Athena, broken up by Luna, and leading to the banishment of a princess.

What changed her from a peace-loving isolationist to this?

***

Captain Mitchell brought up a map of the city on the group’s Crosscoms.

“The Ghosts and I will take the manor. Viper, take the mining camp. Stay in contact with us and play it safe. Captain Reeves,” He consciously chose Viper lead’s non-simulated rank. “I trust you to know if and when you’ll need that Osprey’s gun.”

Reeves nodded in acknowledgement. “What about Warhound’s backup?”

“That manor’s not huge, but it’s too big for six people to clear, especially with how little we know going in. The Raven is doing sweeps of both targets and returning to our little camp at the Osprey. Once we’re in position to assault our targets, we wait until dark for the Osprey to drop Warhound off at the manor. When we assault, you assault, we don’t want one group giving the other advance warning.”

“How much of a window does my team have for air support from that GAU-17 before the bird is at bingo fuel?”

“I don’t know. Assume ten minutes, but ask the pilots if you need to. After we get these artifacts, we’re heading back to Canterlot. The ponies carrying them are a secondary objective. Any questions?”

There were none.

Author's Note

I want to apologize for taking so long to release this. The next chapter is already being written. I'd hoped to release this on Christmas, but my mother's cancer put her in the hospital a few weeks before that and she passed into the grace of God on Christmas Eve. The service is this Saturday.

So I'll try and hammer out the next chapter ASAP, but don't expect it this week. Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger again.

On a lighter note, something I've been looking forward to for years is finally happening this week (and frankly I could use the getaway). I finally get to go to the SHOT Show in Las Vegas with my father and his friend. It's a huge trade show for the small arms industry and other related tacticool industries like apparel, personal armor, optics, medical stuff, etc. A lot of the stuff there is military/law enforcement/government-use only but that doesn't make it any less cool to see. I'll be there a few days, take some pictures, nab some of LaRue Tactical's kickass barbecue rub and enjoy myself.

In the meantime, be excellent to each other. I know 2016 was a nasty year, especially in US and EU politics, but the choices voters made that you may not agree with certainly weren't made with malice except for a small, vocal minority on each side. I sure didn't like my choices as a moderate and my boy (former Senator Jim Webb) dropped out before 2016 even started. All the decent presidential candidates got beat out in the primaries. No matter which way the election would've gone, I would've hated the outcome, and I reluctantly went for the Libertarian who couldn't remember what Aleppo was because at least he seemed harmless enough that I could vote for him without anything on my conscience.

But it's an imperfect world and we have to make the best of it. Being antagonistic and labeling people we disagree with so we don't have to address their arguments isn't going to fix our problems, but engaging other citizens in a civil manner and working to advance the causes we care about will go a long way towards healing the woes troubling Western democracies. That, and trying to look at issues individually through an objective lens, rather than seeing everything through the lens of an ideology.

Though the comments section of an MLP crossover fanfic might not be the best place for these discussions. Especially for me since my laptop has issues with maintaining a connection to my wi-fi and I have to use my phone for most internet stuff.

Sorry, I'm excited for SHOT, extremely sad about my mom, hopeful things will get better, very sleep-deprived and now I'm rambling. Please keep it friendly in the comments.