> Operation Alicorn Sunset > by History Student > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Last Minute Plans > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Present day “If you don’t mind me asking, when did you learn about the Key Lake facility?” The reporter asked. Trimmel placed a hoof on his chin, rubbing it and thinking. “It was back in 1016, just after my 44th birthday.” The reporter stuttered, choking on his words for a moment. “I know, I’ve aged horribly. You actually thought I was a well aged 60 year old, hate to break it to you, but I’m only 50 years young.” “The Key Lake facility though,” Trimmel continued, enjoying the uncomfortable shifting due to his mistake. “I found out quite unspectacularly, read it in a file. Though I recall my confrontation with Chrysalis afterwards to be quite lively…” 9 months following Trimmels retreat from Equestria. The tower of Chrysalis was a daunting structure, a black spire which stretched miles into the sky, the greatest feat of Changeling engineering. That was until today at least, the day Trimmel was briefed on the tactical weapon project recently finished at Key Lake. Tactical weapons, just a fanciful dream for the longest time, now a very real, and dangerous tool in the arsenal. Trimmel stood in a lift waiting, the small metal box shot up the tower towards the peak of the spire, the personal apartments of Chrysalis. Standing next to him was a nervous Synoval, the fez wearing changeling doing his best to straighten out his uniform and look presentable. Synoval always made the best effort to upstage Trimmel at every turn, always desperate to get his old position of Hivesmarshal back. Right now though, he was actually trying to protect Trimmel in his own way. The Hivesmarshal was seething that the queen had invested in something like nuclear weapons without consulting him, and Synoval was right in thinking that any outbursts would reflect on him as well. It was strange that Synoval was the mediator for once, normally he was trying to incite something. “Remember Trimmel…” Synoval began, Trimmels eyes swivelled to the side as they tracked the movement of the other changelings eyes. The completely deaf Hivesmarshal watching his lips form words. “Don’t start a fight, be calm and be collected. Remember how trigger happy the queens guard are, they’ll shoot you without hesitation for a perceived threat.” “Don’t worry Synoval, I’m the picture of calmness and security.” Trimmel assured his subordinate. Shuddering slightly as it reached the top, the lift stopped. Ahead of the pair, the shining metal doors parted and revealed a large open space. Chrysalis’s apartments were as luxurious as one could imagine, fit for only the richest of lings . Almost everything was coloured in black or dark grey, her signature colours. While all other monarchs had their fancy castles and classical architecture, Chrysalis was a fan of modern architecture: square sofas, hanging glass lights, striped carpets, it was luxurious, but more typical of a millionaire and not a queen. Sitting on a sofa facing through a window which made up the entire wall was Chrysalis herself. The queen of all changelings was lounging around and staring out to sea, lost in thought. In her mouth, she held a cigarette extender between her lips, gently puffing smoke out from a lit cigarette on the end. She didn’t look much like a queen, she never did really. Trimmel immediately strode out, ignoring the queens guardsling who stepped out to try and stop him. He made a beeline towards Chrysalis and greeted her in a loud voice as he strode across the room “Chrysalis you old cock! What’s this I hear about you not briefing me on a weapons project.” If Trimmel could hear, he’d have heard Synoval mutter from behind him “here we go…” As he strode towards Chrysalis, the changeling queen turned around and caught sight of the approaching Hivesmarshal. The queen visibly cringed; she’d obviously been expecting this kind of confrontation with Trimmel. Sometimes it was hard to tell if those two even liked each other, perhaps it was a love hate relationship. Before he could reach her, a queens guardsling appeared out of seemingly thin air and stood between them. The matte purple armour of the guard blended very well into the dark room, perhaps it was a tactical choice. The guard lit up his horn, magic pulsing around the grip of his pistol. “I suggest you apologise to our queen.” The guard growled. “Let me tell you something son, during the Stalliongrad revolution my team was found out by one of their commissars. To keep our cover, I beat him to death with a folding chair. So what do you think I could do with this knife then?” Trimmel explained. The guardsling looked down, alarm plastered on his face. Trimmel had drawn a knife from his strap on his leg using his hoof and slipped it between an overlap between two plates of his armour. In one quick movement the knife would be imbedded in his heart. The guardling froze, the magic gripping his pistol faltering. “If you’re quite done traumatising my guards Trimmel…” an indignant voice drawled. The marshal gave a smirk to the still frozen guard before withdrawing his knife and sheathing it. He stepped past the guard and approached Chrysalis, Synoval quietly apologised to the guard. Chrysalis took another drag from her cigarette and exhaled it into the air as Trimmel sat across from her. The queen of all changeling lifted a silver cigarette case and offered it to Trimmel, the marshal picked one up in his magic and placed it in his lips. Synoval arrived as well now and took one for himself, he sat down next to Trimmel. Taking a box of matches from the table between them, Synoval struck one and lit both of their cigarettes before placing the matches on the table separating all of them. The trio remained in silence for a few seconds. Each composing themselves before the upcoming argument. Chrysalis held up a hoof and shook, as she raised her voice and addressed the room “everyone get out.” Guarlings seemed to appear out of the shadows and folds in the curtains as no less than a full platoons worth of guards seemed to stream out. As they were leaving, Chrysalis pointed at one of the guards “except you Vaspier, you stay.” The guard in question stopped, then was surrounded by a green flame as he transformed. The form of a changeling guard slipped away as Vaspier, the great imperial nobody, appeared before them. Chrysalis, thoroughly unimpressed, gave him a bland look “don’t you have something else to be doing, like your job?” She asked. “Probably, but I felt obligated to be here, what with my role in all this.” Vaspier countered. The nobody made his way over to their sofas and took a seat. “We all know you just wanted to watch the chaos unfold. Bloody parasite you are.” Synoval blandly stated. “What can I say, I’m a habitual anarchist.” Vaspier chuckled. “Didn’t you shoot every anarchist in the country.” Trimmel asked. “If he didn’t then he’s possibly the worst Spymaster I’ve ever appointed.” Chrysalis chuckled. “Could you use the door next time as well instead of sneaking in here. One of these days someones going to get trigger happy and put a bullet in your head.” Vaspier chose to totally ignore Chrysalis’s comment on him sneaking in as he addressed the queen “Just eliminating all the competition.” Vaspier explained. The great nobody pulled a flask out of the folds of his great coat and started to sip from it “don’t let me interrupt you.” Blowing a puff of smoke into the air, Trimmel spoke up “I loathe to admit it, but the bastards right. What the fuck Chrysalis?” “It’s your highness and…” the Queen of all changelings started before being interrupted by Trimmel. “We’re in private, I’m not calling you that.” He angrily muttered. Chrysalis let out an angry breath through her teeth “I’m not inclined to brief you on every project my teams are undertaking. You may be the supreme commander, but this is my country, so don’t you dare to assume you can order me around.” “If I recall Chrysalis, you gave me total military authority. That project was designed with military application, why wasn’t I even briefed on its existence?” Trimmel seethed, using his magic to push the cigarette into an ash tray. “This isn’t military, this is research. You could argue that toaster production has military applications and start sticking your hooves into it if you wanted to. I have to draw the line somewhere Trimmel, otherwise you may as well be king.” Chrysalis snorted. “Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” Trimmel sniffed. Before Chrysalis could shout an angry response, it was Vaspier who spoke up “ohhh they’re getting personal now.” He let out a loud laugh. “Vaspier…” Synoval spoke up for the first time in a while “I’m going to remind you that you’re within punching distance and Trimmel has a hitting things when he’s pissed habit. In fact…” the other marshal shifted away from Trimmel and sat on the far side of the sofa. Getting past the others brief interaction, Chrysalis returned to her Hivesmarshal “Don’t you dare to assume you could rule the hives, you’re nothing without me, I made you. You shouldn’t assume that you’re so irreplaceable to me as well, I can get any number of lings to replace you, some of who are in this room right now!” Trimmel suddenly let out a hearty laugh “You think Synoval could do what I do! That’s a good one, that really is.” “Yeah not to take sides here” Synoval interjected “but I don’t want his job. I want to be Hivesmarshal yes, but Trimmel does so much extra on top of that and basically runs the military economy, I can’t do that.” Synoval made a good point, despite wanting Trimmels position as Hivesmarshal and supreme commander, his job had expanded so far beyond that. Trimmel basically ran the military economy, he had his say in every aspect of production and manufacturing in the entire queendom. Any other ling would have buckled under the mental pressure of running everything at this point, every ling except Trimmel. The pressure was taxing on his health, and he was ageing horribly, but he was running it. Synoval wanted to be military leader, but not leader of the economy. “The nukes are of military application, they’re a military tool, I should have been included, let alone briefed on its existence!” Trimmel shouted. “They didn’t even start as a weapon! It was just a power generation tool meant to take strain off our: oil, steel and coal resources. This whole weaponisation of it came about in the past year.” The queen of all changelings explained. “And let’s not even get into its usage, you made a strategic weapon! This weapon destroys whole city’s, if you want to rule equestria, then blowing it up isn’t the way to win this war.” Trimmel exclaimed as he slammed a hoof on the table separating them. “I agree! They failed as strategic weapons, the ones we’re building are designed as tactical weapons, drop them on an airfield or mountain you can’t get around.” Chrysalis shouted. Trimmel picked himself up and strode across the room. He picked up a chair in his magic and started to smash it against the floor again and again and again. Splinters flew everywhere as it broke under the immense pressure of his attack. Once it was thoroughly destroyed, he turned around and roared “that makes so much fucking sense!” Silence reigned in the room as everyling waited for Chrysalis or Trimmel to make the next move. One of them was going to do something, it was just a question of which one. Chrysalis sighed as she held out her cigarette case once again “want another one?” Trimmel straightened out his jacket as he walked towards her “please.” The Hivesmarshal sat down in his original seat as he took the matches off the table and lit his cigarette. “So then, what are the details of this project.” Vaspier began to cackle, slapping a slightly disturbed Synoval on the shoulder “mum and dad have such a toxic relationship don’t they. You two are perfect for each other!” “And you are still within Trimmels punching distance.” Synoval warned “could I also get one of those?” He gestured to the cigarettes. The queen of all changelings lifted the box of matches in her magic and struck one. The flame lit up as she offered the match around. The various changelings leant forwards in their seats as they lit the cigarettes. Pulling back and collapsing into their seats, the changelings engaged in another round of total silence as they fuelled their collective nicotine addiction. Chrysalis stumped her cigarette down on an ashtray and waved a hoof “Synoval, get us glasses and a bottle of Port from the cabinet.” The changeling marshal made absolutely no complaints as he stood up and made his way across the room towards a drinks cabinet. Although he made the best possible effort to be quiet and keep an ear on the conversation. “Pooling together our fissile material into a series of reactors across the country, we’re able to build a tactical nuke every month. I’ve already built up a small stockpile on the weapons, 1 city buster and 2 tacticals.” Chrysalis explained “They’re airdropped from strategic bombers onto any targets we can mark. The impact radius is about 150m, though the radiation and full blast radius could be a few km, we’ve only tested a city buster before, so info on the tactical’s is only theoretical.” chrysalis explained. At this point, Synoval returned with the port and glasses for all the lings. He placed the four glasses down on the wooden table and delicately poured the Port into the glasses. Each ling, even Vaspier, took one as they waited for Trimmels obvious question. “I see the validity of the tactical nukes, I do. However, I’ve now read the reports and watched the tape of the detonation, I flatly refuse to drop one on other soldiers.” Trimmel said, swirling his port around. “Won’t be entirely up to you, I’ve created a four-person system for deployment of the weapons. Each ling needs to be in unanimous agreement for the deployment otherwise it doesn’t go through.” Chrysalis spoke as she took a sip from her port. “Who gets a vote?” Trimmel inquired, he took a sip from the port before having a drag from his cigarette. “Me and you obviously.” She pointed out “Apangesis also gets a vote, it’s his pilots who’ll be dropping the bombs so he has the yes or no with weather or security. Last is Lysander, he doesn’t have any particularly strong views on the matter, but I wanted each armed forces branch to have a say. The city buster is off the table though, I’m keeping that one permanently in reserve.” Trimmel nodded in understanding “why make a city buster if you aren’t planning on using it.” “Rumours, nothing you need to worry about.” Chrysalis tried to deflect. Instead of Trimmel who asked the next question, it was in fact Vaspier. Acting like a good friend and laughing up until now, he suddenly turned serious and demanding like the flick of a switch. It’s why he had such a horrible reputation among the military, with his seemingly endless personalities and perfect control over his emotions, you never knew what he was going to do or what he was thinking. “I find it strange that your spymaster hasn’t heard these rumours. Do enlighten us your majesty.” “It’s none of your concern Vaspier, remember your place.” Chrysalis warned. “My place is hearing rumours just like Trimmels is shooting things. You’ve hidden weapons from him and now information from me.” Vaspier continued, his voice low, tone dark “We need to know what’s going on.” Chrysalis sighed, she probable regretted inviting Vaspier to this conversation. “This doesn’t leave the room, if it does, then you’re dead. Vaspier, don’t send any spies there or I’ll tear off your wings and throw you through the window. Are we clear?” Vaspier and Trimmel nodded, confirming they knew how serious Chrysalis was. The queen only ever made threats she would keep. Nothing was a bluff when it came to her death threats. Synoval meanwhile shifted uncomfortably, no longer sure he was meant to be here. Nether the less, he nodded for the queen to continue. “In the far north of the Griffonian continent is the dread peninsula, home of the undead. As a backer of the arcturian order, they pass information directly to me of any happenings in the north. Nothing concrete has been confirmed yet, but the dead are moving. Increased sightings, more guards going missing, flashes of necrotic magic rising higher out of the magehold. It might be nothing, just rumours, but that’s not a chance I’m willing to take.” Chrysalis said slowly and deliberately, she made sure that each ling understood exactly what she was saying. Vaspier remained silent, his expression unreadable. Trimmel meanwhile took a drag from his cigarette, then a sip of port. Synoval just continued to shuffle uncomfortably, probably working up the courage to ask something. “So then…” chrysalis began as she turned the conversation back on track “what’s your plan for the second invasion, the details I’ve been getting are sparse at best.” “Well…” Trimmel started. Present day Trimmel concluded his story, the Longswordian reporter nodded in understanding. The pony gave a small smile as he continued to take notes and write down points on the conversation. The reporter then reached out to the tape recorder on the table between them. He flicked it off and took the tape out, stashing it off to the left he placed a different tape inside and readied himself to click the record button again. “Shit, I wasn’t supposed to tell you about that.” Trimmel placed his face in his hoof. Although the Dread League was public knowledge now, what with their war against the Arcturian order a couple years back, but Chrysalis didn’t want anyone to know that the Changelings had some forewarning. “Its fine, I already knew.” The reporter reassured with a smile “I was the correspondent in the Arcturian order before it collapsed.” “Really? Well colour me surprised; I didn’t think any of you lot made it out alive.” Trimmel exclaimed in surprise. When the Dread League invaded the Arcturian order, the Griffon knights fought back valiantly against the undead horde. But they were quickly overwhelmed and totally collapsed under the pressure of an undead army, vicious mind control magic turning knights on each other as ghouls ripped the living apart. Most publicised of all, the Arcturian order had allowed a few foreign reporters in country, hoping the images of the undead would garner international support. When the order collapsed, the few reporters had suffered a gruesome fate, forced by their undead captors to film Undead atrocities before being dragged into the magehold and never seen again. “Me and my cameraman were the only survivors.” The reporter confirmed. Trimmel was about to ask a whole load of questions, almost no one had gotten out of there alive. How in the world had a reporter and his cameraman gotten out alive when hundreds of thousands of experienced soldiers and civilians were doomed. The Dread league had immediately solidified their lines on the modern Arcturian borders where they remained today, monitored by the Griffon empire. So how in the world had this pony and his cameraman managed to cross miles of dead ground and get past the roving hordes of Vamponys. “Yes the cameraman was recording the whole time, yes the tape still exists, yes Grover VI has it, yes you can probably request a clone of it, yes it will probably be denied.” the reporter answered pre-emptively. Swinging the conversation back on track, the pony flicked the tape recorder back on “So you had just began to tell Chrysalis the invasion plan, what was the plan?” Trimmel gave a snort, amused by the pony’s slick manoeuvring of the convoy back on topic. He leant back and crossed his forelegs “Well its easier to explain how I told the generals under my command. We were in a bunker…” 2 months after meeting with Chrysalis, 3 days before the second invasion Trimmel stood over a large map of the frontline with Equestria, generals and officers surrounded him as he laid out the second invasion plan to them. The army heads listened intently, each waiting to hear what role they would play in the initial battles. The room they stood in was slightly cramped and wasn’t the most comfortable. But it was secure, this particular room was a cleared-out storage room in one of their border forts, fort EB-211, and shielded by meters of solid concrete. A cloud of smoke had pooled near the ceiling and circled the single lamp which illuminated the room. The 25 or so assembled lings and few Olenians from the three main branches of the military were almost all smoking, be it pipes, cigarettes or cigars, they were almost all adding to the cloud in the ceiling. Trimmel was among the few without, his own discarded in an ash tray just a moment ago. “It starts in three days.” Trimmel began loudly to the room “the attack will begin with wing week, our friends in the airforce will fly a week of sorties against the pony forces and target their logistical infrastructure. At the same time, General Lunason will begin a bombardment of Equestrian positions on the border. Some 20 thousand guns in all will keep up a continuous rolling bombardment for 5 full days, it will be the single largest artillery barrage in recorded history.” General Lunason was probably the youngest Changeling or Olenian in the room. At just 25 years old, the artillery commander was a somewhat unpopular choice of leader. But he’d proved in the ongoing war that no one could match his understanding of artillery. As head of the Royal Vestiopolis artillery corps, he was the head of all divisional artillery corps, and it would fall to him to coordinate strikes between the regiments. “On the 5th day of this attack, General Larynx and the 5th army will begin their diversionary offensive out of Vanhoover.” Trimmel pointed towards the extreme right of the changeling lines. The 5th army had encountered some trouble withdrawing a few months ago, and had ended up digging into positions around Vanhoover. The troops had held their ground and found the area to be well suited for a prolonged defensive battle. They were the only salient still across the old border with Equestria and in the perfect position to launch an attack. Larynx himself was also a good choice, the general was the poster boy of the Heer, loved by his men and well-liked by the media. He had a personal charisma that Trimmel and Synoval just lacked. His 5th army also had a very high number of Olenian soldiers in its ranks. During the invasion of Olenia, the general was known by the Olenians as being very fair on prisoners of war. Later when he’d served as an advisor to the protectorates crown, he’d helped modernise their army and become quite well liked by the Olenian soldiers and generals. Olenian soldiers worked better under his command than any other Changeling in the Heer. Larynx was also a component and reliable leader, easy to work with and capable of an extended independent command. While slightly unremarkable in his career compared to the other generals, his steely disposition and reliability made him an indispensable general. “General Larynx and the 5th army have been reinforced with 4 divisions of Panzers and 6 light panzer divisions from the Olenian protectorate, they will be tasked with drawing as many Equestrian forces onto their offensive as possible to make way for the main thrust. General Haakon Lurswig from Olenia will command the panzer forces in this sector.” Trimmel gestured to Larynx and the Olenian next to him. “To go along with this, we’ve started a buildup of: inflatable tanks, aircraft mock ups, and in this area several fake bases. Our airforce friends will let equestrian recon aircraft through the defensive screen to see the supposed buildup, and agents in equestria will push their high command towards the buildup. This should hopefully culminate in the Equestrian army diverting many of its reserve troops and response armour to stem this attack. 5th army and its attached armour should be heavily engaged with the Equestria army by the time of the main offensive 2 days later.” Trimmel explained in depth as his aids pushed around models on the map for effect. General Fultoni raised a hoof into the air and drew Trimmels attention. Trimmel swivelled his eyes and locked them onto the other General who now began to speak allowing Trimmel to read his lips. “What sort of casualties can 5th army expect?” Trimmel cast his eyes over to General Larynx who sighed “Depends on how many of their reserves we absorb. I expect around 5% KIA with a total of 15% casualties. But if we absorb the full weight of their counterattack…” Larynx paused and silently winced at the mental numbers “KIA could be up to 15% with some 35% casualties.” A wave of unease passed over the room. Those were easily the highest casualty figures anyone had heard on the entire southern front, and that was just for a single regional offensive. The northern frontline against the communist griffons did regularly see upwards of 30% casualties, but they were close range battles in extreme conditions. Given that Northern force was also made up of Brigade sized formations and not Division sized, it meant that less lings actually died. Scanning his eyes around the room as his wings fluttered, Trimmel noted the cool understanding in the room. They all understood the stakes of this attack, even if they didn’t like it. The first invasion, while initially successful, was a rush job. Units weren’t at their rally points when the invasion began, areas of command were poorly defined or overlapped, logistics weren’t set up properly. Every Changeling and Olenian here knew that this time it had to be perfect, otherwise they were first on the chopping block, be it from Chrysalis or the vengeful equestrians. With no more questions forthcoming, Trimmel continued. “The main thrust will come here and here. Straight through the Frozen Butterfly Forrest’s. Generals Pharynx and Roland will lead the 12 panzer divisions in 2 columns through crystal lines. Kampfgruppe Pharynx will proceed east to Quebuck before splitting into two groups, group 1 will establish a new line while group 2 under lieutenant general Peiper will proceed south and cut the railways out of the crystal empire at Hedgewarts and Chicoltgo. Kampfgruppe Roland will cut west after their initial drive and aim to cut off and encircle elements of the Crystal fire army and whatever units of Stalliongrads revolutionary guard are in the area.” Trimmel continued, when no objections or questions were raised, he continued again. “General Lore will take the 1st Jaeger army through the breach created by the Kampfgruppe and set up a perimeter behind the frontline to secure their flanks while the 4th engineer corps under General Erebidae will begin construction of a road across the area. The 1st deep penetration and infiltration regiment will accompany them and begin to cut all equestrian supply lines available. Meanwhile the 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 6th armies will begin a general assault on the frontline. While initial resistance can be expected, the pony forces will easily break under the pressure and begin a managed retreat.” Trimmel continued. As he was about to keep going, one of his aids tapped him twice and gestured off to his left. It was the signal for the deaf Changeling that someone out of his line of sight was trying to talk to him. Craning his neck left, he saw the ever-cautious general Araxis begin speaking to him. “How can you be sure the Equestrians will break so easily; they’ve had months to prepare and entrench their position. They won’t just leave after we fire a few shells at them.” Araxis argued. The Changeling was known for his caution in battle, having received an injury long ago, he’d stopped leading from the front and prefered his meticulously planned set piece battles which he deemed as far safer. However, Araxis was still a good leader and level headed under pressure. Trimmel actually made sure to place Araxis next to his more hotheaded and reckless generals. The cautious Araxis often managed to balance out his wildcard generals and smooth over ruffled feathers. But he wasn’t well suited to high command, he just lacked the initiative to be a truly great general. “Our informants in the Equestrian military have revealed that the units manning their frontline are already suffering from supply problems. When the supply lines to the crystal empire are cut and the railways to Canterlot bombed, the Equestrians will have to give ground or suffer the greatest military catastrophe in history; either way, we win.” Trimmel huffed. Satisfied with the answer, Araxis nodded and seemed to shift back into the crowd and out of sight. Seeing that Trimmel was scanning for anymore questions, General Uptrich raised a hoof for Trimmels attention. Flicking his eyes over to the other ling, Uptrich started to speak as well. “How will we be reducing any pockets we create, is it up to the frontline troops or do we have an active reserve for it?” The inflexible general asked. Uptrich was a fine leader, good for leading infantry and arguably the Heer’s best logistician. But he was inflexible and lacked creativity, totally unsuited to independent command. He’d never deviate from a plan, even if it was a matter of life or death. However he did bring up a good point, almost every single unit seemed to be somewhere on the frontline. “Marshal Synoval, who isn’t joining us today, is currently overseeing the final formation of the army of the interior. This group will be acting as our active reserve for the foreseeable future. The attached PanzerGrenadiers will oversee the reduction of any created pockets under General Bit.” Trimmel nodded and pointed towards the centre of the map. “Wouldn’t General Vect be a better choice?” Uptrich asked, confused at the absence of the Panzer leader. Although the comment did cause General Bit to turn his head and glare at Uptrich. Trimmel bit his lip, fangs digging into the flesh there and nearly drawing blood. General Vect was dead as of yesterday. The generals communist leanings were tolerated by Chrysalis and Trimmel, but his recently uncovered connections to the Thoraxian resistance had sealed his fate. With Trimmels approval, Vaspier had Vect commit suicide by being raked with machine gun fire in a bathroom. “General Vect won’t be joining us, he was assassinated yesterday by the Thoraxian resistance.” Trimmel lied through his teeth, it wasn’t even very convincing. The generals around him all knew about their comrades opinions on communism, it wasn’t exactly difficult to piece together what happened. As the uneasy silence permeated the room, Trimmel decided to break it by coughing before continuing on “our objective with this offensive is to advance onto a new defensive line stretching from Quebuck in the north to Prancisco in the south. We’ll hold there and build up our logistical infrastructure, give the men a chance to rest, then make another drive east towards the crystal city itself.” “What sort of timeframe are we working with?” General Cardon inquired. “5 weeks.” It was general Qwiksis who replied for Trimmel. General Qwiksis was a strange one among Chnageling high command. He was promoted under Trimmels insistence and made a general just before the war broke out. Qwiksis had been a brigade commander see before, aggressive on the field, but unremarkable in his career. The ling was however a very talented coordinator and had a knack for organisation. The other ling also had a good memory and sharp mind. Although officially a general, Qwiksis acted more as a glorified secretary for Trimmel at this point. He translated the Marshals sometimes vague commands into written orders and made sure arrived to their intended recipients. Qwiksis was crucial for coordinating between the various generals and Chrysalis herself. Occasionally he was called Trimmels shadow, but the Hivesmarshal knew the value of a good Chief-of-staff and was always quick to defend him. “We’ve built up enough resources for a 5 week push. The main issue is fuel, our domestic production is up and those new Synthetic refineries keep on pumping, but it’s not enough to sustain a continuous push.” Trimmel explained. It was general Uptrich who threw the next question at Trimmel. Unsurprising given his affinity for logistical matters. Whatever could be said about the ling, his troops never went hungry, and his guns never went silent for lack of ammunition. It was almost a shame that Trimmel couldn’t assign him to manage all of the Heer’s logistics. “Why only 5 weeks? At our predicted levels of consumption, we can maintain combat for 3 full months.” He asked. The General did bring up a good point. General Qwiksis was fast to shoot down the infantry leader. Sometimes there was something of the rivalry between the two, the Chief-of-staff perhaps seeing it as encroaching on his turf. “You haven’t factored the airforce into that, add them and you lose a month. We need to maintain a reserve for obvious reasons, defence, manoeuvring and the like. But half of the available fuel is reserved for the navy, Admiral Mimic is going to undertake raiding operations again, and Admiral Lysander is anticipating an Equestrian sortie at some point during the offensive.” A series of groans sounded throughout the room. Admiral Lysander wasn’t particularly loved by the Heer, a relationship which went both ways. His fleet had a debatable impact on the war so far, and the absurd amount of fuel he’d requisitioned time and time again had caused some issues for the vehicles of the Heer. Another point of contention between Admiral Lysander and the army came with his naval infantry. Initially, Lysander had been loaned infantry from the Heer for amphibious operations, it was an arrangement which everyone was fine with. But Synoval, on his own initiative, had withdrawn all infantry from Lysanders command for operations elsewhere. As the navy was just days away from undertaking a major amphibious landing at Las Pegasus, the decision understandably outraged him. In a rare moment of unity between the surface and submarine fleet, Admiral Mimic joined his protests. The naval branch had then established its own naval infantry branch independent of the Heer. They were solely under navy jurisdiction and couldn’t be moved without the admirals approval. The Heer had obviously launched their own bout of protests, but they fell on deaf ears. Chrysalis stepped in a ruled that the Kriegsmarine could fields its naval troops, dubbed the Seebataillon’s. Relations between the Kriegsmarine and Heer had remained frosty ever since then. There was almost no trust between the two of them, the navy and army simply refused to cooperate after the incident. Squabbles over resources were an unfortunate norm. Trimmel personally had no problem with funding the navy. Having never actually met Lysander or Mimic, he also had nothing against either of them. Privately he’d scolded Synoval after he withdrew the infantry, and publicly remained silent on the issue. In the eyes of the Hivesmarshal, every ship the equestrians commissioned meant 100 tanks weren’t shooting at the Heer. Trimmel shook his head and cast the thoughts away. The Hivesmarshal used his magic to draw a pipe out of his top pocket. The pipe was one already stuffed with tobacco and lit, as the various personalities and officers in effect watched, Trimmel put it back in his mouth and started to tamp down on it with a tamper he also heard in his magic. After a few moments, he dropped the tamper and leaned towards the nearest person in the room. General Pagala, the pink changeling with a love addiction, picked up the closest box of matches and lit Trimmels pipe. The Marshal nodded in thanks and started to puff on it. The smoke rising to join the haze created in the room. “Is everyone clear on the wider plan?.” He asked, briefly taking the pipe out with hoof. “Good, now then, let’s get onto the finer details…” Trimmel announced > Breach The Celeste Line > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- General Pharynx sat in the commander seat of his command tank, the Panther was his vehicle of choice, and what a fine tank it was. The General scanned the horizon ahead of him, a horizon he’d learned ever minute detail of over the past few weeks. The white, snow-covered hills and planes of the Crystal empire lay before them. Having had a role in planning the panzer assault, Pharynx had chosen this area as the location for the breakthrough. Tactically there was nothing nearby, but the area was perfect tank country and thinly held by a few Equestrian and New Mareland brigades. Strategically, it was perfect for a breakthrough, and they would be able to easily develop a breakthrough and advance towards the nearby roads and railways supplying the frontline troops. The crystal ponies were good soldiers, determined and suited to the arctic environment they were fighting at. Despite being few in number, the Crystal ponies were very well equipped and provisioned, arguably the best equipped troops on the pony side. They were also led by Flash sentry and Shining Armour, two very good generals who were willing and able to carry out total defence. Pharynx and Trimmel had recognised that Crystal Empire troops had been the largest threat faced in the war till this point, resisting doggedly and launching determined counterattacks which often drove the Changeling back. The two had agreed that the Crystal empire would be their main focus in this campaign, reducing their combat potential and knocking out the Crystal empire was of the upmost importance for this campaign to succeed. Pharynx glanced down at his pocket watch, held in his magic, waiting for the last few seconds to tick over before they began their attack. Behind him, 6 full veteran panzer divisions waited, they would be the first over the border. A few miles to his right, General Roland waited with an equally sized Panzer force, ready to drive for his objectives as well. As much as Pharynx wanted to launch the attack now, they’d be torn to shredded by their own artillery. Despite 5th army having already begun their attack, the artillery barrage continued elsewhere along the line. Even now, shells and rockets continued to fire for effect on the hill Pharynx intended to smash 6 Panzer Divisions through. The dull thrum of artillery, ever present this last week, suddenly stopped. Still airborne shells continued to crash into the hillside ahead of them. Pharynx continued to stare at his pocket watch, at exactly 11:00 am, the explosions stopped and all was silent. Silence wasn’t good in war; silence meant a storm was coming. Luckily, Pharynx was that storm. The Changeling general let out a solitary sniff, he looked down at the engraving on the back of the watch. He hated himself for this killing every day, but he had to do it, he couldn’t bear the sight of the starving nymphs in Vestiopolis anymore; the rationing on love which left families alive on the bare minimum. Thorax’s own methods just weren’t working, he’d stood by him, he’d supported and helped him; but it just wasn’t producing results. He’d finally said goodbye to his brother when his harmonic movement turned violent. Dressed in a leather jacket and grey officers hat was the stock image of a Changeling general, role he embodied. The general slipped a pair of headphones and microphone under hat and adjusted it briefly. Then he said words he’d been waiting months to say “Kampfgruppe, Advance!” The driver of his own tank pressed his hoof down and the tank rumbled forwards. Behind them, the column also made to advance and followed their iconic commander leading the charge. The rumble of tank engines and the churning of mud filled the air as the vaunted tank force advanced along the disused track. Pharynx in the lead tank led it over a line of snow covered rusty barbed wire as they officially crossed onto the Equestrian side of the border. The column continued for a few more minutes, the gun crews and commanders keeping their heads on the swivel as they scanned for any pony activity. The formation crested the hill and looked into the valley beneath them. With the amount of craters from the artillery barrage, the terrain in front of them appeared more like the moon than the field it once was; the icy and snow certainly didn’t help the appearance either. The land ahead had visible Equestrian activity on it, a camp seemed to be set up some 5 miles away. Trucks and cars, concrete pillboxes and foxholes were immediately visible. Taking his binoculars and scanning the camp, it was exactly as expected, an infantry brigade. What was surprising however were the campfires, ponies were just milling around and chatting, had they not noticed the thousands of tanks bearing down on their position? “4th brigade 9th division form up on me. Unexpected thrust formation.” Pharynx told the company over the radio “load HE rounds. 2nd brigade, form on my left and swing behind them; 3rd, form on the right and hit them in the right.” As Pharynx led his tank forwards as the brigade formed up around him. Changeling panzer Brigades were half the size of their griffon counterparts, only having 60-70 armoured vehicles making up its main body. But they fielded them in larger numbers than their griffon counterparts. The brigade reforms were one of those Pharynx had made during the war. When he led the Panzers in the rearguard action, the general had cut every brigade in half so he could cast a larger defensive net. Their divisions still had the same number of armoured vehicles as before, but they were more dispersed now. It also reduced pressure on roads and railways for travel and supply. Overall, it was a vast improvement over their previous organisation system. The brigades formed up as they rolled towards the Pony camp. The formation was loose to avoid enemy gunners being able to exploit their close formation, but its tactics were drilled to perfection. The past few years of combat had made sure that everyling knew their place in the battle. They all knew exactly what they needed to do and where they needed to be for this to work. Trucks towing howitzers made up the first group to stop, they’d devised a system to have the gun off the truck and firing at close range in just 1 minute. Then the Panzers would stop and shell the enemy while the IFV’s, halftracks and Assault guns raced forward. The assault guns would stop at close range and takeover shelling duties from the tanks who would advance past the assault guns. The PanzerGrenadiers would dismount and create breaches in the enemy line which the panzers could then exploit. It’s a tactic which had worked on the Equestrians many times and hopefully would again. The Equestrians finally seemed to take notice of the advancing Changeling tanks as they were just 1 mile out. Through his binoculars, Pharynx could see the ponies start to scramble to defensive positions and clear the immediate line of fire. Water and snow was thrown on fires as the Equestrians started to dive into cover and arm themselves. The Panzer brigade’s own artillery had detached a half mile back and now opened fire. The crash of Howitzers unleashing their steel rain was one which never got old, the shells screamed overhead and reached their targets in moments, detonating among the equestrian camp. Snow and dirt was throw into the sky, sometimes bodies well. The Equestrians however were unusually fast in returning fire with their own guns. Muzzle flashes briefly made the day brighter before shells crashed inside his formation of armoured vehicles. Then the AT made itself known. Moving like tracers, antitank rounds whizzed through his formation, punching holes in the air. But the AT was poorly sighted and already being single out by his own artillery. Pharynx’s own command tank had its own unique radio system. His own radio was automatically tuned to several different frequencies used by his formation, all he had to do was turn a dial (one he’d covered with bits of paper with formation names written on) and he could communicate to most formations under his command. The Changeling flicked the dial to 4th brigade and addressed his troops. “Panzers halt, fire for effect, aim for the AT!” He shouted. The tank and others around him stopped as the rest of the assault guns and PanzerGrenadiers raced by them. Pharynx switched the radio back to his own tank intercom. “Gunner, traverse 15 left! AT 400m.” He ordered. The turret rotated towards the target before the gunner’s voice came over the intercom “target on, AT 400!” “Fire!” Pharynx yelled. “Firing” the gunner replied. The 45-tonne war machine shook violently as a shell was forced out of its rifled turret. The High Explosive shell travelled at breakneck speed across the chaos of the battlefield, travelling over the assault guns and PanzerGrenadiers until it reached its target. The shell landed ever so slightly short of its target and struck the ground before it detonated in the ground and sent dirt and chunks of grass flying. “Shot action HE, no traverse, elevate 3 degrees!” pharynx shouted over the intercom as an Equestrian artillery shell landed on the front of the tank next to him. Its treads were blown off as the vehicle was rendered immobile, but the crew would be fine, especially with the commander’s hatch being closed as it was. As if to prove him right, the turret rotated and fired a shell at its own target. After a moment, the hatch popped open and the tank commander appeared, radio held to her mouth as she barked orders to her crew. “Target on, AT 400.” Came the reply from Pharynx’s gunner. “Fire!” The general yelled “Firing” the gunner replied. The shell arced over the Assault gun which had now joined the shelling. It crossed the Halftracks, now empty of PanzerGrenadiers, it crossed the Equestrian line being stormed by the changeling troops. And finally, it arrived at the AT gun. This time their aim was true. The HE shell detonated right on the AT platform. The Equestrian guns own shells cooked off as it was engulfed in flames. The AT piece went up in a fireball as it was destroyed. Quickly scanning the Equestrian formation, Pharynx spotted Changeling tanks inside the camp. They were the tanks of 3rd brigade. As he was about to order his own panzers to advance, his radio crackled. His lieutenants knew not to call him if it wasn’t important, so he always paid attention whenever they did “1 I.C 3rd brigade to command, come in.” a voice asked. Pharynx clicked on his mic as he replied “go ahead.” “The Equestrians have thrown in the towel, they had literally nothing on the right. They’re encircled and surrendering.” The officer on the other end reported. Without replying, Pharynx switched his radio to transmit to all the commanding officers in his unit and addressed the officers “all elements hold fire, enemy neutralised. 3rd brigade 9th division, secure the prisoners and rejoin the vanguard. General Peiper, have your division process them.” “Aye sir.” Replied two voices one after the other. “9th division, move out in 5 to bypass the enemy camp.” Pharynx ordered “we’ll move east towards the airfield.” Switching his radio to internal, the general addressed his crew “take 5.” The hatches on the front opened as two changeling heads appeared out of the top. The driver and foregunner getting a breath of fresh air. The tank started to role forwards around the outside of the Equestrian camp, the various vehicles of his brigade made to follow him. As if in sync, Pharynx and his fore-gunner pulled out a pack of cigarettes and began to light them. The fore-gunner lit an another and handed it across to the driver with his magic. Leaning back, Pharynx glanced at the gunner and loader who sat back and started to drink from their canteens. “Good shooting.” He complimented. “Thanks.” The gunner replied taking a swig of water “you don’t need to shout fire by the way, I’m right here.” Choosing to ignore the comment, Pharynx gave the camp a sideways glance as they passed by it. He could see Ponies rising out of foxholes and crawling from tents, meanwhile his PanzerGrenadiers organised them into groups and bound them with wire. A few stayed on the ground, unmoving, red stained snow being a grim indication of their fate. Some officer stood atop a light tank shouting through a speaker “Do not resist, do not move. You will be processed shortly; all prisoners will be treated in accordance with international law! Medics will arrive shortly to treat your wounded; any Pony medics make yourself known and you will be allowed to tend to your wounded.” The officer looked a bit like Peiper, it definitely wasn’t, but the resemblance was there. He was worried about Peiper, the Changeling had a few loose screws which stopped from getting to high command. The tanker had committed a few atrocities during the war, but nothing which Chrysalis wasn’t willing to overlook. The real trouble was when Peiper would be detached and without Pharynx always looking over his shoulder, then things could get bad. His tank came to a stop besides the camp, glancing back, the brigade was reorganising into its regular formation behind him. The loader, who was relaxing by the shells, looked up at Pharynx and asked “so what’s the damage?” “Tank next to us lost its treads but is otherwise ok.” Pharynx gestured behind them “The Grenadiers will obviously have taken a few casualties, other than that we seem ok.” Glancing back, Pharynx could see most of the formation was ready to move on. However one could never be sure, the artillery trucks in particular could take a while to get ready to off. Leaning down and switching his radio to the brigade, he decided to just ask. “Are we ready to move off?” After a few moments, a voice came through. It was impossible to tell who it was, but only officers of a certain rank were on the channel, so it had to be one of them. “We’re all good back here.” Taking his cigarette out of his mouth, Pharynx threw it over the side of the tank into the mud. “Alright,” he started over the Kampfgrupper wide channel “continue advance towards the airfield, Lehr devision, swing north and take the hills overlooking it.” A round an officers replying copy returned, but the general paid it little attention. The equestrian camp wasn’t expected, but it barely even classified as a speed-bump with the resistance they’d put up. The airfield would be the first of their objectives on this armoured thrust, they could get supply’s flown in, wounded flown out, and have their fighter and bomber cover continue to support them. The Airforce’s primary fighter didn’t have the best range, it wasn’t bad, but also not great, so airports would need to be secured to maintain air cover. What long range fighters they did have were all tied up escorting the bomber offensive deeper inland. Taking these strategic points intact was vital to the operations success. They’d outrun their air cover in the first invasion, something Trimmel was determined not to do again. The armoured column advanced past the Equestrian camp and headed straight for the enemy airfield, it was a good half-hours drive away, so they might as well get comfortable for the trip, especially as no major resistance was expected. The tank crew started to chat amongst themselves as their general took out a pair of binoculars and scanned the western horizon. He could see the distant specks of General Roland’s armoured column. The unmistakable flash of tracers and shells indicated they were also meeting some initial resistance. But it was nothing the vast armoured column couldn’t handle, Roland was also a veteran tanker, it would take more than a few ponies with guns to stop him. Beyond that, the horizon was filled with nothing but smoke and dirt, the result of the largest artillery bombardment in world history being unleashed. He remembered the shelling well, many artillery crews had actually taken casualties from the sound of their own guns. Pharynx had once even visited an artillery corps involved, he had to keep his mouth permanently open to try and keep an equal pressure and stop his ears bleeding. In all fairness to the Ponies, and the communists in particular, they’d offered a spirited resistance in well placed counter battery fire. But the sheer volume of Changeling guns and their bombers picking off unconcealed guns decided the victor after just 2 days of the artillery duel. Nothing could stand against 20 000 guns, General Lunason worked magic that way. Pharynx let his crew chat as he himself let his guard down. Recon flights and intel indicated that the Equestrians didn’t have much behind the actual frontline, and reports from the south showed that 5th army was absorbing a good chunk of the communist reserve. The only thing they were nearly clueless about were the Crystal Empires forces. The Crystal empire wasn’t in the Equestrian command, they also stayed almost totally infiltrator free. So the Heer was largely in the dark over the location and plans of the Crystal empire. They had to use a lot of guesswork with their opponent. A thin line of pickets manned the frontline in places and they regularly patrolled forward, but the main bulk hadn’t been seen since the retreat. Trimmel believed they were holding further inland on better ground, anticipating the collapse of the existing frontline. Pharynx was inclined to believe his assessment. Although their location was unknown, the possibility of suddenly running into a massive enemy force was always in the back of his mind. But if they were going to make an appearance, it wouldn’t be so soon, perhaps in a day or so. When they did encounter them, it would be a horrific grind. An unstoppable force meeting an unmoveable object, casualties would be high. Pharynx knew full well that the battles wouldn’t be decided by tactics, hell their offensive plan boiled down to hit them really hard and brute force your way through any resistance. This war would be decided by logistics and transport infrastructure. If the fleet of trucks supplying either side failed to get the shells, bullets, rations or fuel needed to the frontline troops, they’d loose regardless of whatever miracles were pulled on the battlefield. As they drove on towards their objective, Pharynx cast his mind towards the war in general. The industrial side of the conflict was stacked in the Equestrian side on paper. Holding far more factories capable of military production which were dispersed across several nations, they could far outproduce the Changelings in theory. But the war economy was highly standardised by Trimmel before the war, every Changeling, Olenian and bear unit used the same equipment. Everything used the same components and was interchangeable. The Equestrian production army meanwhile was equipped with weapons and tools from 14 countries on 3 continents, each one using different components and requiring different ammunition. Not all Equestrian units were equipped in the same fashion, standardised units only made up some 50% of their armed forces. With the Equestrian economy tied down in producing replacement parts for 1000 different pieces of equipment, the Equestrian production capabilities were only slightly larger than Changeling’s and far more manageable. With the vast tech advantage that the Hegemony had managed to maintain, it kept the playing field close enough to even. “How are we looking on fuel?” Pharynx asked the driver. Briefly pausing his quiet conversation, the driver checked the gauge “We’re at 3 quarters.” Pharynx nodded in understanding and let his crew go back to talking. One problem the hegemony had battled with was fuel inefficiency. Their Panzer IV and Panther tanks were incredibly fuel inefficient, partly the reason for their dire fuel situation a few months back. Thank the stars they’d never put the King Tiger into mass production, the design faults and fuel huger of that steel behemoth made him shudder in horror. The tank had caused quite a stir, Chrysalis demanded it be produced, Trimmel demanded they never enter production. One of the far too frequent arguments between the two which nearly caused a schism took place as the two larger than life personalities clashed. Eventually they’d compromised, a single brigades worth of King Tigers would be produced for the Queens guard, and were under Chrysalis command. Last he’d heard, they’d been assigned to the army of the interior. Just ahead of them, shielded by a few rises in the terrain and clumps of trees, was the unmistakable shape of an airfield. Pharynx pulled out and checked his pocket watch. Just 10 minutes out from the airbase. The taker closed the pocket watch and briefly stared at the engraving on the back ‘to the best big brother’. Pharynx gently placed it back in his pocket and lifted the radio, fiddling with the frequency until he found the right one. Lifting the receiver up to his mouth, he spoke into it “General Pharynx requesting fighter sweep of Dodger airfield.” Some 2 squadrons of fighter aircraft had been in a holding pattern on the Changeling side of the border, massing just outside Equestrian radar range. Their time to target was 5 minutes and they’d have just 5 minutes for a fighter sweep of the defences. They’d then hold position over the airfield and clear out any air cover the Equestrians had. The idea was that the end of their strafing attack would be perfectly timed with Pharynx arrival, for maximum shock value. Fiddling with his radio again, Pharynx addressed his leading Kampfgruppe “4th Brigade, breeching positions. Lehr division, continue bypassing north and cut them off. Restrict shellfire to AA and Flak emplacements, we need to take the airfield intact.” Dropping his radio, he looked at the driver whose head was still poking out of the front. “Stop us here” The tank rolled to a bald as a wave of confirmation passed over the radio, but the general ignored it. The general would try to fight as many battles as possible with just his lead division, conserving the strength of his reserves and Peipers forces until they were truly needed. Hopefully he’d be able to prolong the offensive potential of his force this way. The breaching formation was one developed on the fly during the first invasion, now standardised. Two tanks would lead columns of mounted PanzerGrenadiers towards the perimeter fence or barbed wire of the airstrip, engineers would dismount and cut a way through so the tanks could pass through. Once through, the tanks would let the IFV’s pass them by and provide cover fire as they dashed to the objective. The armoured brigade formed up behind him, assault guns and vehicles not needed in the attack talking the opportunity to refuel. A company of PanzerGrenadiers in their armoured vehicles meanwhile lined up behind Pharynx’s panther and the other vehicle behind them. Similar groups appeared on their left and right. A few engineers, recognisable by the shovel patched on their uniform, climbed onto Pharynx’s tank and the one behind. At that moment, as the group formed up to attack, a wave of fighters passed over them travelling nearly at a dive. Tracers arced up from the ground ahead of the tanks and up towards the attacking aircraft, some flak cannons even started popping off fire at the fighters. Those pilots had guts that’s for sure, nothing on this planet could get Pharynx to go into battle in a flying aluminium death trap. As the fighter sweep began, Pharynx glanced back at the forming up vehicles. He judged it to be good enough and that the rest would be able to catch up as they went. “Brigade advance!” He ordered into the microphone. The breeching columns began to role forwards towards the Equestria airfield. Tanks leading 4 groups of PanzerGrenadiers in the attack, a number which would almost certainly be overkill. Equestrians rarely garrisoned their airfields with anything other than AA units. Unholstering his officers pistol, Pharynx placed it down on the turret hatch, within easy reach if he needed it. He then gripped his hooves onto his officers machine gun and readied himself. Heading straight into a clump of trees, Pharynx could see the flashes of gunfire and hear the shouts of ponies drowned out by piston engines. A few shadows passed over them as something exploded. Then his tank broke through the trees and onto the flat ground in front of the airfield. The airfield was a mess, the unfolding anarchy of an air attack was something one never got used to. Bofors, flak guns and a few Pom Pom guns were spraying at the fighters which were pulling out of a drive at the far end of the airstrip. Equestrians were running between buildings and shouting as aircraft of various types burned on the ground. Despite the attack, most aircraft seemed to be unscathed and a few were even taxing to take off. Above the airstrip, a couple of apparently already airborne Equestrian aircraft were starting a dogfight. Quickly glancing left and right, Pharynx noticed the other tanks of the breaching party had also gotten through the tree line. The general lifted up his radio and clicked it on “start spraying the airstrip, take out those AA guns.” Almost immediately, the machine guns on the leading vehicles started to spray lead across the concrete strip towards anything what moved. Pharynx clicked the intercom on and addressed the gunner “hold main, load HE, go coaxial.” without replying, the coaxial machine gun attached to the turret started to spray bullets into the area ahead of them. A few Equestrians were riddled with bullets and died where they fell, their guns briefly fell silent as they were caught between the land and air. Then they reorganised and returned fire. Machine-guns were the first to respond, tracers arcing towards the vehicles and bouncing off the armour of the vehicles. Pharynx ducked his head down as bullets whizzed past. Then the heavier weapons started to fire, AA guns turned on ground targets were surprisingly deadly. The heavy flak guns in particular could pose a serious threat if the Equestrians managed to turn them around. “Gunner, traverse 20 left, flak gun 200m!” He shouted into the intercom. The turret turned towards the target as Pharynx grabbed his 50 cal in his hooves and started to fire back at the Equestrian machine gun positions. The turret halted as the gunner reported “target on, flak 200” “Fire!” He shouted. “Firing.” The whole tank shook as the high explosive shell left the rifled barrel of the tank at breakneck speed. The glowing shell passed across the battlefield and towards the flak turret, surrounded by sandbags and foxholes. It landed at the base of the gun and detonated, sending the battery up in a blaze. “Nice shot! Driver halt” he ordered through the intercom. The tanks had reached the outer layer of wire which surrounded the airfield. The general looked back to the engineers taking cover in the tank behind him, shielding themselves from the fire. Although one of them had been nicked by shrapnel and was bleeding from his cheek, they were all in good condition. “All tanks, pop smoke 100 up.” Pharynx ordered the breaching vehicles over the radio. Acting automatically, the gunner and loader of his own vehicle loaded and fired smoke up the airfield. The other leading tanks also fired smoke, creating a brief and thin smoke screen between them and some of the Equestrian defences. Fire continued to be sprayed thrown the smoke by both sides, and the foxholes, pillboxes and guns still on this side continued to put out fire. “Get us a path!” He shouted at the engineers. The changeling engineers picked up smoke grenades in their magic and tossed them as far as they could forwards. The metal cylinders hit the mud and started to spew out the white gas. Now confident in their adequate screen, the engineers jumped off his vehicle and sprinted forwards to the barbed wire some 15 meters ahead of them. Although it theoretically put the engineers in more danger, the distance allowed the tanks main guns to safely be used, providing more cover fire for the lings with the most dangerous job in the battle. From his heightened position on the turret, Pharynx could still somewhat see over the smoke screen and continued to call out targets and orders to his crew. “Nose hold, you’ll hit our own boys. Loader, AP shell. Gunner traverse 5 left, pillbox 60m.” A minor adjustment was made by the turret before the gunner replied “target on, no sight, pillbox 60.” “Fire!” He shouted. “Firing.” Pharynx barely noticed the tank shaking as the shell left the barrel and headed towards the pillbox. The glowing shell hit the ground just ahead of the pillbox and sent a wave of dirt up into the air. The general scowled and sprayed the pillbox with his 50 cal as he barked more orders at the gunner. “Action shot, no traverse, increase range 10m.” “Target on, no sight, pillbox 70.” Came the reply. A tracer flew within an inch of the generals head and nearly took off his hat. Forgetting he was leaning out of the turret, Pharynx slipped slightly further down into the turret hatch. Any one of these bullets could have made his end sudden unceremonious. “Fire!” He shouted. “Firing.” The shell tore a hole through the air and reached its target. The armour piercing shell put a hole straight in the top of the concrete pillbox as it travelled inside. The explosive warhead ignited and spelled the immediate end of the occupants. Ammunition cooked off and butchered anypony who was unfortunate enough not to have been instantly killed by the AP shell. Pharynx watched light flash within the concrete construction before tracers stopped exiting off it. The general let out a breath and silently prayed for their souls. He was about to shout another target out when an IFV crossed his light of sight. Following its path back, he saw that the right team had managed to cut the wire and were streaming onto the airfield. “Tanks hold, friendlies are on the airstrip.” He ordered through the radio. A single engineer came running through the thinning smoke and towards his own vehicle. The engineer banged on the side and yelled up at the general who glanced down at him “you’ve got a clear path.” Nodding in thanks, Pharynx ordered the driver forwards, and the tank rumbled to life. As they passed the breach in the wire, the general saw the engineers lying in the mud, holding rifles in their hooves and pointing them forwards. A couple of them were face down and didn’t appear to be moving, he’d ordered them to die. Once through the breach, his tank pulled to the left, the one behind him went right. They orientated their turrets across the airstrip, but held their fire for fear of hitting the friendlies now in front of them. The IFV’s and halftracks holding PanzerGrenadiers sped past Pharynx’s own vehicle, banging their 30 cals at the unseen enemy. A few who had already dismounted jogged forwards and spread out across the airstrip. The changeling general fell back into a sitting position in his turret. Another victory for his decorated Panzer corps, another advance for the Heer, another set of lives sacrificed for mud, another day where he wondered what his brother would think of him now. Hopefully this war would end soon, one way or the other, he didn’t really care anymore. He’d do his job for the Heer, but nothing more; he was just numb to it all at this point. Great if they won, great if they lost, he just didn’t care.