XXVIII. Northmarch, Equestria. May, 1252.
Northmarch, Equestria. May, 1252.
Eight ponies sat in a tight circle, seven with a thin, torn, rough blanket wrapped around them--and one with a gold helmet, a shimmering cape, and a black eyepatch. The odor of infection hung in the little tent, left by the dozens of ponies who had passed through in the preceding hour, but the smell went unnoticed by the seven wounded soldiers and ignored by the scarred general. Derpy spoke, exactly as she had done eight times in the past hour and change, and as she would as many times over the next.
"My ponies," she said tenderly, "as you have been told by your doctors and by your bodies themselves, your time in Equestria is limited. You have given what all ponies have long considered the last and final measure of devotion: you have purchased life and freedom for others by laying your own on the scales held by the terrible butcher of war. A pony cannot offer more than her soul."
"Except, perhaps, for her body. You can, if you like, cheat the butcher; you may choose to lay a hoof on the scale. Though your blood is poisoned with disease, you are not sentenced to a quiet death in a tent of misery. You may yet choose the death of a hero; you may yet choose to save yourself the indignation of a death by infection, and may choose to save your comrades the pain of a hundred deaths in battle."
"Behind me is a weapon unprecedented in history: one that consumes its user--and everything near it--in a sudden explosion of enormous force. It is a vest containing a large quantity of explosive charge, detonated by you yourselves. The force of such bombs will demolish entire formations of gryphons; the terror they will induce will set armies to flight. The gryphons do not expect it. The gryphons cannot conceive of it. They will be struck with horror because they will not understand what is happening. When they come to understand, their horror will be doubled. And they will break, and they will flee."
"If you volunteer for a hero's death, you will be rewarded. I will write a letter for you--personally for you--to your local government explaining your sacrifice and requesting that your family be taken care of as the family of any war hero would be. I will include your name on a letter to Princess Celestia requesting special consideration for posthumous recognition, including land and gold grants to your family. Through the power granted to me by Princess Celestia herself, I will--at the moment you volunteer--personally elevate you to the rank of Lieutenant, making you a commissioned officer in the service of the Princesses. As soon as circumstances allow, I will order a medal struck in your honor and awarded to your family. And, above and beyond all that, you will have the honor of dying knowing that you have traded days or hours of one pony's life for centuries of freedom for all ponies."
"If you would prefer the quiet death of a diseased soldier, that is your right as a free pony. You may stand and return to your medical tent, and nopony shall think less of you. Nopony but the eight in this tent will know that you turned down this opportunity."
"If you would prefer to ensure that hundreds of other ponies will not suffer as you have--if you would prefer to repay the gryphons a hundredfold for your death--that, too, is your right as a free pony. You may stay and have your names added to the roll. You will be moved to a special tent where you will be taken care of to the best of our ability. And tomorrow morning, you will be roused, and you will be outfitted, and you will become heroes."
"The choice is now yours. Make it."
She watched them think. Two kept looking at the tent flap, then at the other ponies, then back at the tent flap. Three looked forward with thousand-yard stares. And the other two resolutely stared back at her.
"Will you volunteer?"
Two nodded emphatically. Three nodded without emotion. Two hesitated, then, at last, nodded as well.
"Swear aloud that you volunteer, willingly and without reservation, to join the Royal Special Attack Force, and that you will carry out your mission with all the dignity and honor of a free pony who has made a free choice."
They did.
Derpy stood, then walked to each one, who rose to meet her. She kissed each pony--the stallions on the nose, the mares on the cheek--thanked each one with an honest gratitude, and addressed each as 'Lieutenant.' When she had completed her circuit around the tent, she dismissed them, and they left.
Now alone, she sighed heavily. She had four minutes until the next group arrived. She sat, both thinking and trying not to think. Thirty seconds ticked by. She thought of the deadened, numbed faces so many of her "heroes" wore. 45 seconds. She thought of the reluctant volunteers, afraid to die but more afraid to lose a respect they would never live to enjoy. One minute ten seconds. She thought of the eager ones. One minute fifteen seconds. She thought of the test explosion they had run--how nothing was left of the diseased pony corpse they had suited in the bomb vest, how test corpses as far as 30 meters away had been mangled beyond recognition, and how test corpses as far as 70 meters away were shredded by fragments of metal. One minute 50 seconds. She thought of the reluctant ones shuddering as they released the mouth trigger. Two minutes. She thought of the explosions in the sky and on the ground. She thought of gryphons dying. Of gryphons fleeing. Two minutes twenty seconds. She thought of her daughter. No. Not my daughter. Not Dinky. No. Two minutes twenty-five seconds. She thought of Dinky watching the battle--the sight of murderous suicide filling her uncomprehending child's eyes. No. Dinky is on the other side of Equestria. Dinky couldn't see it. But if she did... She thought of Dinky looking at the battle and crying. She thought of Dinky looking at her and crying. No. Stop it. Stop thinking about that. She couldn't possibly see it. No. No. She won't see it. But she will find out. And then what will she think of me? What will she think of her mommy? No. She'll understand. No. She'll never understand. She thought of her daughter. Four minutes.
Another group of wounded ponies shuffled through the tent flap. Derpy shook off her reverie as the ponies sat down in a circle. And she spoke, exactly as she had done nine times in the past hour and change, and as she would as many times over the next.
"My ponies," she said tenderly, "as you have been told..."
---
The field rustled with the sound of quiet, concentrated activity, and the Army of Northern Equestria's few qualified unicorn artillerists, now operating under the auspices of the Royal Special Attack Force, worked frenetically. Twenty ponies painstakingly sewed uniforms together, reenforced them, added hollow chambers, and filled them with captured Gryphon explosive and bits of broken metal. As each was done, it was gently set on the pile of bomb vests. The pile had started as a single vest lying on the grass. It was now a larger but still-unimpressive-looking mound, more reminiscent of a pile of laundry than of a weapon to change the fates of nations.
The artillerists worked in close quarters and thought little of it. Were they using Equestrian magic-charge, they would be taking safety precautions, but Gryphon powder-charge was chemical in nature and burst in contact with fire--meaning it was safe to use magic when handling it, so long as there was no source of fire or sparks nearby. A few were spooked by the idea of handing explosives right next to a pony handling explosives, but they kept a straight face. Nopony wanted to let anypony think less of them.
Derpy arrived quietly, and watched the progress without alerting them to her presence. They had made many vests. Perhaps enough, perhaps not. There were two hundred forty ponies who had agreed to become living shells. There were zero ponies who had refused to. Even allowing for the many who would die or become bedridden before the battle, that would be well over a hundred members of the Royal Special Attack Force. A hundred pony bombs. It seemed like such a large number, but a hundred vests didn't make a very large pile at all. Well. A 9-pound shell was downright tiny, but a well-placed one could change the course of a battle, couldn't it? Odd, though. So much depended on that heap of rags. The death of thousands if they worked. The death of thousands if they didn't. Horror and revulsion. Victory and triumph. Martyrs and villains. A pile of laundry.
A voice spoke over her shoulder. "I figured I'd find you here, General."
She didn't look at him. "Well, I figured you'd want to find me, Mac."
"You know what I'm gonna say." He spoke calmly but resolutely.
"I have some idea, yes. You're going to tell me that you're resigning in protest."
"If you know the what, then you know the why, so I ain't gonna waste breath on tellin' you what you already know. Do you have anythin' to say before I do it?"
"Yes," she said, completely without passion. "You aren't leaving. Because I am not going to allow Sweetie Belle and her friends to leave, given their symbolic importance to the army, given that simply releasing them in hostile territory so close to an active enemy army is tantamount to surrendering them to Gryphon scouts, and given that the gryphons have already demonstrated their eagerness to take them prisoner. If you leave, you are not leaving with Apple Bloom or her friends."
"You can't make me stay by takin' hostages." He sounded more broken than defiant.
"She's not a hostage, Mac. I said it was for their safety and it is. I've always been completely honest with you. I'm not going to release them for their safety. So if you leave, you leave her here with me." Her voice remained neutral.
Mac was silent. Derpy waited for a response. She didn't get one--but his expression betrayed that his silence wasn't intentional. He was simply at a loss for words.
"So it comes down to this then, Mac: you can stay and continue to serve as my friend, my lover, and my conscience, in the hopes that your influence will help me remain a good pony despite the awful things I have ordered and will order in the future. Or you can leave, with the belief that cutting my only link to normality is worth it if you don't have to see the repercussions--but with the knowledge that your sister and her friends will not only have to see it, but have to live it."
He was still silent.
"I told you that kissing me was a bad idea, Mac. Because you kissed me, I have taken a hostage--but it's not your sister and it's not you. I'm the hostage. If you leave, then Derpy dies. And all that's left will be the Grey Mare."
He was still silent.
"I love you, Mac," she said, her voice softening only a bit. "I really do. The pony you know literally cannot live without you. And you have to understand what that means for me, for you, for this army, and for Equestria. Except for the Princesses, I am very likely the most important pony alive, and very possibly one of the most important ponies in history. And I depend on you completely. That makes you exactly as responsible for this army and to this country as I am. And an Apple never backs down from responsibility. Does he?"
He finally spoke. "No. He doesn't. But he doesn't stand by evil like this."
"It's not evil. It's--"
"--necessary? That excuse is runnin' thin. We didn't have to fight. We coulda retreated."
"No, we couldn't have. There wasn't a clear route we could have reached in the time we had."
"We coulda done somethin'."
"Easy to say that when you're not the one that has to figure out exactly what that "somethin'" is."
"Easy to say when you insist on plannin' strategy by yourself."
"That's because I'm the only one who can do it, Mac!"
"Oh, right, I forgot, the only pony capable of comin' up with a sound military idea is the mailmare who had never so much as led a book club before the war."
"I'm not going to argue my authority or my privilege as general. Nopony in military history has done what I've done or what I'm going to have to do. I have to do this alone, and I will do it alone."
"Alone, huh? Is that why you say you depend on me so much?"
"That's different. Dammit, you know that's different! It's not fair to use that as a weapon against me."
"If it ain't fair to use a pony's love as a weapon, how come it's fair to use an entire pony as a weapon?"
She stopped, then spoke quietly. "They're volunteers. I gave every one the chance to leave with a promise that nopony would think less of them."
"How many said no?"
"...none."
"Derpy, I know from experience that if I gave a hundred ponies off the street a free apple--a delicious apple for absolutely nothin', no strings attached, from trustworthy ol' Big Macintosh Apple hisself--ten would turn it down. Nothin's so good everypony signs up for it. They aren't volunteers. They were ordered without orderin'."
"This is more than an apple, Mac, it's--"
"--it's suicide, Derpy, and you're tellin' me that every single pony you talked to was just rarin' to commit suicide?"
"No, I--"
"--was everypony gung-ho about it? Everypony looked real excited to blow up tomorrow morning?"
"Well, not everypony, but they all--"
"--and if, a year ago, Princess Celestia herself told you, personally, that you could save Equestria from certain destruction by offin' yourself, wouldn't you have done it even if you didn't want to?"
"...yes. I suppose I would, though I wouldn't have liked it. Nopony could turn that kind of request down."
"And if'n nopony could turn it down, don't that mean their say-so wasn't freely given?"
"No," she said instantly, "it doesn't mean that, Mac. If they think Equestria depends on their sacrifice, it's because it does. And if they see me in the same light that they see Celestia, it's because they think I deserve to be. I wasn't born this beautiful majestic being capable of moving the cosmos. I was born a pegasus with a dull coat, a dull mane, and crossed eyes. Ponies didn't first learn of me as an immortal, divine ruler. They learned of me as a stupid-looking mailmare who blundered into starting up a little militia. If they want to trust me, then it's by their own free will, because they think I deserve to be trusted. And if they accept the truth that the stakes of this campaign is Equestria itself, then that's by their own free will, too--again, because they think I deserve to be trusted."
"They don't trust you, Derpy. I trust you. They obey you. There's a difference."
"It's the other way around, Mac," she said with not just a hint of exasperation. "They trust me and you obey me. I mean, you don't trust that I'm a good pony, but you hang around anyways. What else would you call that?"
"I'd call it trust, Derpy. I don't think you do good things, but I trust you're a good pony underneath, and more'n that, I trust that you're the only one capable of savin' us. But them? They don't care if you're a good pony. They don't even care if you're a pony at all. They just do what you say 'cause you're the General. They don't know a thing about who you are, and they don't care to."
"...you're right," Derpy said after a pause. "They're just obeying me."
"Yup."
"They don't trust me. They don't love me. They don't even know me. But...you do know who I am."
"Yup."
"And...and you still love me."
"...well, I suppose I don't know any better words for it."
"If you're going to tell me they don't love me at all, then I'll need more than that."
"Then I'll say I love you, Derpy."
"And I'll say I believe you."
---
Northmarch Hills, Equestria. May, 1252.
The drums rolled.
Private Boyd Screwtail rocked back and forth in giddy anticipation. He was in the reserves, but he didn't care. Finally, there was a battle. He had been campaigning with the Gryphon army since the beginning, but frankly--and he would never admit this to another soul--it had been disappointing. The war hadn't been a glorious fight for the survival of the ancestral spirits. It hadn't even been a fight. It had just been a bunch of marching around, setting up camps and patrols and going on fruitless hunts for bandits and occasionally setting fire to villages in retaliation for bandit raids. But the ponies he saw never fought back. They just looked sad. And there wasn't much honor to be gained in fighting an enemy that either ran or surrendered. It was probably true that wretches deserved a good beating now and then, but beating a wretch wasn't much fun, and it certainly wasn't the kind of thing that your ancestors would sing about.
Oh, welcome, Boyd, to our hall of highest honor. We were all really impressed when you slashed that crying pony-woman's face because she wouldn't stop begging you for food. Yes, that certainly added to the glory of the Screwtail name--but not nearly as much as when you burned down that barn because a general thought that maybe a bandit might have slept here once. Your valiant blow against the fearsome beast of crimson-painted wood--full to the brim with horrid bales of straw and infested with deadly sleeping cows--certainly deserves to be mentioned in the same breath as your father mortally wounding a dragon as he fought to his final breath, and you certainly deserve to take your place by his side.
But now they had an enemy, and an enemy that was willing to fight. The Grey Mare had long been known as a fearsome bandit leader--her thugs were everywhere, always ready to pounce on unsuspecting forager teams or supply carts, kill everyone that couldn't escape, and steal whatever food or cannon or armor they had. But now, it seemed, this wretched creature of cruelty and deception had decided to become a proper general. Perfect. Whoever fought in the battle that ended her campaign of terror would be able to claim a share in the death of a true enemy of all honorable gryphons everywhere. And whoever brought back her body would earn a lifetime of respect. It might even be like capturing the Pony Queen--well, okay, no, it wouldn't be anything like capturing the Pony Queen, especially given the bizarre escape that manipulative demoness had managed after her defeat. Regardless, defeating the Grey Mare would still be far more impressive than "defeating" a barn.
The Grey Mare had fought one battle so far--one real battle, with whole armies standing in formation. She had won, but in Boyd's eyes all that proved was that General Scruffcrest was too rash and immature to command an army. This time, the Grey Mare faced General Highnest, a gryphon of renowned discipline. And this time, she faced an army twice her size. And this time, she was on ground that didn't allow any silly tricks like in the last battle--not that General Highnest would fall for a trick in the first place.
And here, before him and before the twenty thousand soldiers of the combined Second and Fifth Gryphonic Armies, stood the little army of the ponies. It was a strange sight--thousands of brightly colored little ponies in their little uniforms, standing in little lines or marching in little formations. They looked so out of place, so completely unsuited to fighting the professional warriors of the Kingdom of Gryphonia. The Gryphonic forces were an army. This was a little furry rainbow. And this little furry rainbow was the last army the ponies had. Their last stand. After today's victory, the war would be over and the gryphons could begin creating a peaceful, natural Equestria. And Boyd would always be able to say that he was there for the end.
A sudden mighty crash rang in his ears and rattled in his hollow bones as the Gryphonic artillery opened fire, emptying his mind of everything but the noise. A few seconds later, dustclouds began appearing all along the pony lines as cannonballs ripped ponies apart by the handful. Gryphonic artillery didn't use the infamous liquid fire the ponies were dishonorable enough to employ, and Gryphonic explosive shells were as unreliable as they were expensive, but ten-pound balls of iron travelling at nearly the speed of sound were perfectly capable of tearing armies to pieces.
The pony army reacted instantly, though they fired no artillery in reply. The pony lines began walking forward, as clouds of pegasus ponies lifted off the ground and began flying towards the Gryphonic lines. Boyd smiled inwardly. No pony artillery means the ponies have to charge, or else they'll be dismantled by our cannon fire. And charging a superior force head-on is a waste. The Grey Mare knows she's beat. She's just giving her soldiers a chance to die honorably.
Formations of gryphons flew out to meet the pony cavalry. Boyd felt a tinge of jealousy; he wanted to be there in the first wave, though he expected it wasn't going to be much of a fight. The gryphons outnumbered the pegasus ponies, and these ponies could hardly maintain a proper formation.
Then, the ponies did something strange. The clouds of pegasus cavalry came to a halt, and from the clouds flew dozens and dozens of single ponies. Each pony headed directly at a formation of gryphons. The gryphons ignored the lone ponies, of course--likely undisciplined gloryseekers who didn't heed an order to halt. The lone ponies flew onwards, into the gryphon formations. Boyd followed one with his eye. He watched the pony soar through. He watched two gryphons break formation to meet the pony. Then, suddenly, that pony was gone. And so was the formation. In their place was an enormous cloud of fire and smoke. The entire sky lit up with flashes of light, as wing after wing of gryphon cavalry disappeared in the sudden firestorm. And then came the sound--a rolling, terrible thunderclap of explosions bigger than Boyd had ever imagined.
And as the sound subsided, he stood in shock. The Thirty-fourth through Fifty-first Gryphon Hussars had vanished. The only trace they had ever even existed were the clouds of smoke from which scattered dead and crippled bodies fell. And each had been destroyed by a single pony? But...how could...
The pony infantry sounded a charge, and from the cloud of pony cavalry, another wave of lone ponies--much larger than the last one--emerged. Boyd's eyes opened wide. These ones were headed directly for the front lines. There had to have been a hundred of them.
---
Mayweather's body shook as she flew. She was cold. Her wings barely responded. Her leg was turning gangrenous. Her vest was heavy and uncomfortable. She wanted only to cover herself in a blanket and sleep. But sleep would come. Sleep would come as soon as she stopped biting on the trigger. Her jaw was clamped shut around it, as if it had made up its own mind to never let go. She had wondered all night if she'd be able to bite the trigger. She had. It was easy. Now she wondered if she would be able to release the trigger when the time came.
The time had nearly come.
She had seen the first wave of Royal Special Attack Force ponies fly and detonate. She had watched her friend Rose Thorn leave. She had watched Rose Thorn vanish in a cloud of smoke and fire. She had wondered what Rose Thorn had thought in the last seconds. Now, as she approached the line of lions, she knew. She knew she should feel a sense of finality. She knew she should feel fear, or anger. But all she felt was the desire to finish it--to finish it, if only her body would agree. She was almost on top of them now. She tucked her wings into her body and fell into a shallow dive. She counted the seconds as she fell. Two. Three. She saw explosions out of the corner of her eye. She tried to release the trigger as she crashed into a lion. She couldn't do it. Even as she hit the ground her jaw was locked shut.
She whimpered in pain and disappointment. She couldn't do it. A lion stabbed her with a spear. She tried to gasp. Her mouth opened. The trigger was released. The bomb detonated.
----
Boyd was frozen in terror. The ponies were bombs. They were living bombs. And the bombs were blowing holes in their lines. The pony infantry closed to attack as a small wave of lone ponies flew down from the sky. This wave exploded in the lion reserves as the enemy infantry charged into the dazed Gryphonic front lines. He could see the lions breaking. He half-expected to hear an order to re-enforce the front. He wasn't surprised by the fact that he heard nothing. How could any army respond to such a horrifyingly destructive weapon? How could any true gryphon respond to such a cruel enemy? To retreat would be to surrender the field to evil. To fight would be to surrender their bodies to evil. There was no way to respond.
Many gryphons fled. Some charged into the lines. Most simply stood still. When the ponies reached Boyd, he surrendered to the mercy of the Grey Mare, quietly and peacefully. Most others joined him. The Second and Fifth Gryphonic Armies essentially disbanded themselves.
---
Rise up, children of ponies, the day of glory has arrived!
Against us, gryphon tyranny: unbowed and blooded, we must rise!
Unbowed and blooded, we must rise!
The ecstatic strains of La Chevallaise rang through the evening air. Here was a victory to remember--the greatest triumph in recorded military history. Twenty thousand enemy taken prisoner. Five thousand enemy killed, whether on the front line or chased down afterwards. Fifty-seven cannon and hundreds of supply carts captured. Three thousand pony prisoners rescued--mostly local militiaponies, with some high-ranking New Equestrian Army officers captured at the Battle of Reckoning Ridge. Fewer than five hundred casualties, of which a hundred forty three were Royal Special Attack Force.
A day earlier, they were pinned by two armies. Today they had put two armies to flight, had transformed their artillery from a token force into a deadly grand battery, had captured months of supplies, had bolstered their organizational abilities, had won at least a week's worth of freedom to maneuver, now stood square between the remaining gryphon armies and their supply routes, and by defeating three armies in a week--and two in a day--had won a name for themselves.
Derpy heard the celebrations from her tent. Occasionally they fired a cannon. She didn't mind. Best to let them take their joy while they could; a soldier that must suffer deeply must also be allowed moments of catharsis.
The army was still busy through its celebrations. They couldn't possibly handle keeping 20,000 captives, so she had decided to hobble them rather than kill them or release them to fight again. Under her orders, ponies severed the rear left achilles tendon of each lion and gryphon--and the flight tendons of each gryphon--then released each newly-made cripple. Each prisoner was given a bag, four rations of food, a water canteen, a small knife, a flint, and instructions to the nearest highway which they could follow east to be absorbed by the Gryphon armies. Prisoners too wounded to travel were painlessly executed.
She pulled a quill and ink out of her new bag--the previous possession of one gryphon, formerly the esteemed General Highnest, now a prisoner undergoing interrogation, soon to be a cripple stripped of his uniform and insignias and made to walk eastwards with thousands of his fellow defeated soldiers. Tomorrow she would go over her plans for the future. Tonight she had letters to write.
In the coming days she would have to write a letter for the families of each member of the Royal Special Attack Force, whether they had successfully carried out their mission or had died overnight; what mattered was that they had volunteered. She would have to write a letter to Celestia recommending the newly-minted heroes be rewarded. She would have to write a letter explicitly begging the Princess's forgiveness for attaching the adjective "Royal" to her suicide bombers. And she would have to write an order indefinitely suspending the Royal Special Attack Force.
---
The artillery officer didn't bother concealing his irritation.
"General, I'm surprised you're ending our program after it won a battle for you. Few would abandon such a successful weapon so quickly," he said.
"It isn't your program, Major; you did nothing more than put bombs in a vest. As for your complaint, well, I promised it would be a weapon of desperation. We aren't desperate."
"Desperation or not, it's effective. One pony bomb can save hundreds of lives. Thousands, maybe. If ponies are willing, why not allow them to?"
"Major Almond, I promised it would be a weapon of desperation. We are not desperate."
"Who did you promise?"
"It doesn't matter. Everyone."
"Canceling this program is going to kill ponies. You realize that, I hope."
"Nearly every minute of every day I realize that I kill ponies."
"...Look, even if we stop the pony bombs, please let us keep researching. Maybe we don't have to have the pony die in the process. Maybe they can just drop the bomb vest on lions or something. Or drop some other sort of bomb. A healthy pony could drop a very big bomb."
"Really, Major? Can you get a pony traveling at one-quarter speed across a battlefield and above an enemy line of battle, without being intercepted by a single gryphon and without being hit by canister shot or explosive shot they'll be aiming at them? And can you find a way to account for the fact that each bomb will require as much explosive charge as is required by firing forty cannons?"
"Of course I can."
"No, you can't. You aren't a cavalry officer, and you aren't a logistics officer. You have no idea what it's like to defend a moving three-dimensional space, and you have no idea what goes into getting the materials you use. You make bombs and plan trajectories."
"Well, then give us cavalry officers and logistics officers, and let us work together. We can change the way we fight. We can change the entire way wars are fought. "
"Major, I am more than content to leave this whole affair in the past. I won't win by repeating the same tricks, anyway. You may leave."
"You can't keep us from meeting and talking about the possibilities of this tactic."
"Of course I can't. Meet and talk with all the other officers you like. And if you come up with anything, feel free to tell me. But regardless, this program is suspended indefinitely."
---
Big Macintosh approached the tent flap, cautiously as always.
"You have permission to enter, Major Apple," Derpy called out, before he had even stopped stopped walking. He entered.
"You know the fact that it worked don't excuse that you did it," he said quietly.
"I know, yes."
"You know the fact you ended it don't excuse that you did it," he said. He walked closer.
"I know."
"You know the fact that they agreed to it don't excuse that you did it," he said.
"I know."
"And you know the fact that you did it is the only reason we're all alive today."
"...I know that, too."
"And you know that don't excuse it neither."
"Yeah."
"Then we're on the same page."
"...yeah."
"Glad we got that straight," he said. His expression turned mild.
She motioned for him to come over next to her. He did. She smiled as she talked. "Look, Mac. We've got a clear shot west. We've got tons of supplies and artillery, and there are plenty of recruits and probably stragglers from the New Equestrian Army we can pick up. And we can cut off their resupply routes if we ever want to make them move from where they are. Plus, the gryphon leadership is probably going to be paralyzed for a while after this battle, and on top of that they'll be figuring out what to do with twenty thousand cripples telling stories of pony bombs--"
Big Macintosh winced.
"--and on top of that they'll have huge morale issues now that they've gone from the brink of victory to a contested war, and on top of all that, the locals aren't going to be nearly as willing to cooperate with the occupiers now that they know us and know that we can beat gryphons and beat them soundly. That'll slow 'em down even more, and that'll increase the gifts we're getting from the villages. So we can take advantage. I'd say it'll be a month before we'll even have to think about fighting. Maybe more. A month where we'll be growing. A month where they won't be."
"So we're retreatin'?"
"Not in the slightest. We're advancing away from the enemy and towards Gryphonia."
"Gryphonia? Please tell me you ain't gonna invade. Kickin' 'em out of our homes is one thing, but takin' over their homes is somethin' else."
"Of course not. Not yet. I just mean that's the general direction we're going. We're going northwest, for all the reasons I just said. Expelling the enemy from Equestria is still our only priority."
"All right then."
There was a pause.
"Derpy, what did you mean by 'not yet'?"
"Don't worry about it," she said softly but firmly.
"You know I will."
"Yeah, I do. And you know that worrying won't ever stop me from doing what's necessary when our lives depend on it."
"Eeyup,' he said in sad resignation.
"And you know...you know I need you. To remind me what I should be doing whenever our lives don't depend on it." She was thoughtful. No. She was trying to hide her thoughts.
He didn't reply at first.
"Do you really," he said at last. He didn't say it like a question.
"Yes. I wouldn't have ended the Special Attack program otherwise. I probably would have expanded it. Take on healthy volunteers. Things like that." She bit a lip.
"I'm not hearin' anypony say you can't start it up next battle," he muttered.
She suddenly grabbed his face with both hooves. A thrill of shock ran up his spine. She looked into one eye, then the other, her own face betraying a hidden helplessness.
"Then be the pony who says it. Be the pony who tells me I can't do things. Because I don't think I can be that pony for myself any more. I didn't know the pony bombs were wrong. I just knew they were necessary and they were necessary but I still don't really know that they're wrong. But I trust you that they're wrong. Please. Believe me. I need you."
He swallowed. "I do believe you."
"...I need you to help me."
"I know. I said I believe you."
"...Mac, I feel awful. I don't really know what's right. It's all just death. Everything I do is death. Everything I don't do is death. I've got ghosts of death all around me and I need to decide which ghosts I'm going to make real and who is going to die because of me. And I'm around those ghosts all day and usually it's okay but sometimes I think I'm starting to become one of them."
Mac's heart opened a bit. It had become so rare for her to show vulnerability. "Do you want to talk about it? Like we used to? Before you started talkin' about dependin' on me too much? And before I started sayin' you had to do this all by yourself? You know, since before we started--started gettin' in our own way?"
"Yeah. That'd be nice," she said. She didn't sound happy about the prospect. "...I still love you, Mac."
"I know."
"Do you still love me?"
"I suppose you could say that."
"I already told you I'm going to need something better than that."
"Then I'll say I love you, Derpy."
"I believe you," she said, casting her eye downwards.
He nuzzled her. She didn't feel it.
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So, there is still a conscience there.....for now. Sooner or later, her last links to her civilian identity will vanish and all that'll be left is a killing machine.
66447
It was explained briefly in-story, but Celestia's failure to be in Canterlot removed her influence over the Equestrian perception of the sun and therefore over the climate. She could have ended the winter, but it would have required her to go to Canterlot and resume controlling the sun through magical ceremonies, and that would have been too risky given that the gryphons controlled the area. The wind and clouds and frost came as the pony influence over the day-to-day weather decreased, though it didn't snow--the land hadn't "recovered" enough to precipitate on its own until spring.
62715
Basically, the technology level is the year 1800. Start from there.
Guns were basically a shock/skirmish weapon until the Crimean War and American Civil War; before that, the deciding moment of infantry combat was the bayonet charge. Guns were used because (A) anyone could pick one up and use one effectively in ten minutes' training, while older weapons required significant training, because (B) random noisy death terrified raw recruits, diminishing the enemy's ability to take advantage of (A), and because (C) they served as convenient pointy sticks to keep horses away. But when a pony and a lion and a gryphon are all quite capable of fighting without any weapon at all--to the point where most weapons are not even worth using--the impetus to develop something like a firearm is diminished. And really, if guns existed, the battles would play out in almost the exact same way. A lion wouldn't stand there and shoot a gun that might maybe hit something once every 20 seconds. A pony wouldn't get off more than a shot or two before they closed, and they can do that with rocks anyway. Cannon, however, remain as useful as they were in European history, and anti-cavalry weapons like spears remain useful against charges.
As for carcass shot? That did exist--and flame weapons were widely used as far back as the Byzantine Empire--but firing it and then getting it to open up at the right point made it nearly useless; if it blows up in the cannon you've wasted it, and if it just kinda cracks open when it hits the ground wasted it. Equestrian magic charges can be far more precise than actual late-18th century tech can, and so can open it mid-air, making it an effective weapon.
wow that was amazing. I really liked that chapter. I've never questioned you because i know your gonna throw something like this out and Mind=Blown.
Again I will say "MY BODY IS READY". I love this story
I have a horrid feeling Mac is going to die and serious shit is going to happen. Don't tell me if I'm right or if I'm wrong.
It's authors like you that make authors like me strive to be better. Fucking brilliant story, mate.
Okay now that I've actually read it, I will give a more sensible review:
This story had a weak start with a bit too much infodumping during the opening chapters with Celestia and the mane six, but given how events carried on from that it was necessary. Despite that, it is extremely rewarding to anyone who reads past them, and this story has evolved into my favourite story on this site and I eagerly check daily to see if it's been updated.
You have a rare talent for writing battle scenes that are actually easy to read and visualize on the grand scheme of things, without requiring the reader to stop and think and visualize what is happening for themselves, it just feels natural. Usually when I write battle scenes I can only do them from one character's perspective and not be able to describe the movement of entire regiments and armies, for this I applaud you.
Another thing, Derpy's evolution keeps getting better, she is my favourite character in the story and it is poetic how despite the bad things she has to do, she is still a good mare at heart. It was also a nice change how instead of killing her many prisoners she merely crippled them and let them go with some rations, it was very merciful of her. I also liked how the start of the battle was shown from a griffon's perspective, and you switched to a bomber's perspective as well, little things like that really allow me to empathize with the characters and the process of them becoming suicide bombers felt like a hero's farewell and was done with a suitably strong emotional element.
In short, an excellent chapter with another well written battle scene, this story is among the best on this site. I am curious though about your technique and thought process behind writing large scale battle scenes if you are able to share that :3
Eye patch Derpy is best Derpy.
'Nuff said.
Glad to see Derpy doing well for herself, everything considering.
best..story...ever
you cease to amaze me,great work on the story build and foreshadowing too.
A thought occurs to me....it might be that Derpy hasn't considered something really horrifying that would probably break her heart: the possibility that Dinky would be utterly indifferent to what she's doing. The notion that her precious child wouldn't care a damn about all the sick crap Mommy talked herself and others into doing miiiiiiiiight just make her wish that she herself was a ponybomb.
Story: "Private Boyd Screwtail..."
Me: SCREWBALL!? WHERE!?
*hides under chair* ......oh. oh. It's just gryphons. Phew.
Well, I think this might be it. I think this might be my most favoritest fanfic story ever!
Overall, I love how the story is carried on. You've almost reached 30 chapters - and still counting! Most stories would have grown boring by now. But yet there's so much to explain, so much text does not only not seem excessive: it seems necessary!
I'd like to mention the pacing of this story. It's slower than most of them, and fitting for such a story of war. Every little detail counts, and every word is well spent on describing the current course of events and every action takes as much space as it should. The lexic and vocabulary, I admire. Again, the descriptions are rich in content and shape and they make for an entertaining reading.
The contents themselves are very interesting as well. I still have some trouble adapting to someponies' attitudes (Luna and Celestia's "emotionless" decisions when making battle plans, or Derpy's sternness) but I guess they are all consequent with a war. Although we could have some more variety of points of view, just like you did with Caramel or Boyd; little changes of perspective to see the conflict in another way. Abusing it wouldn't be good of course, but I feel you could add more of these little fragments.
Now one thing I would really like of Total War is not so much a change in the narrative as it is an add-on, an annex if you will. Considering how I suck at orientation, I would appreciate if you could draw a Map (or have it drawn) of the actual panorama - the land, the cities, and pretty much any landmark that is important to the story. I feel it would help people have a better spatial reasoning of the whole picture. I know I would!
One last thing, this a question that I have: you've mentioned somewhere you've been inspired by historic pieces of human warfare to create this story. My question is in what exactly? Like, maybe you've taken some extracts of motivational speeches for Derpy to have, or perhaps you inspired on some battle tactics from certain strategists? This is my curiosity going on, but I'd really like to know.
66619 i have to disagree mass volleys of little canon balls aka guns will desamate (hope i spelled that right) a line of lions plus it can give a pony a wepon to use other then there feet and if thay are rifled then thay can pic off officers at range still good story i will hate to see
die but will be good for story also where is big mac during battles is he on the front lines or hiding behind the gray mare
67234 i second what the poptart cat is saying a map will be good also why is there no mention of the navy derpy stated that it is a 3-d battlefield so who is protecting pony sea lanes and stoping sea-born invasion like the attack on baltamore i belive it was in the war of 1812 you know where thay came up with the star spangled banner
(ps go usa)
Derpy needs to watch that hubris. Everyone knows what happens to generals who think too highly of themselves.
I love you emkajii
...Ya know? I didn't think about the logistics problems behind a bomber regiment...huh. Makes sense now that I think about it, as they are still in the process of morphing from a rebel band into a proper army, so it makes sense they don't have a stable logistics base to support it. As usual you astound me in your abilities with all things military in this story. As for the characters, I don't think i need to say anything about them as pretty much every one else has said what I thought.
Loving it!
And on the note of guns, im just gonna throw my 2 cents worth in cuz ive been thinking about it a bit since reading this story.
The one problem I have with guns in Equestria is I can't think of a way the ponies could operate them, be that trigger them or reload them. Humans have hands to do all that, from recharging a magazine to operating a weapons action, and we've had hundreds of years to develop all that from fighting against other humans with the same tech. Ponies have hooves. And while Gryphons have claws that are like hands I don't see why they would need guns, as Gryphons seem to have a very honor based fighting style. So killing an enemy from afar with a tiny piece of metal I don't think they would find very honorable. Combine that with what emkajii said I personally don't think guns, aside from the cannons, will ever factor into warfare in Equestria the way they have on Earth for humanity.
66669
As far as describing battles goes, I usually try to describe emotional moments and decision points from the perspective of the characters involved (for obvious reasons), I usually describe broad-scale turning points in the battle from the perspective of characters not directly involved (providing a birds'-eye viewpoint and a natural source of commentary), and I also usually try to have characters "hand-hold" the reader a bit through their responses, informing them of what it *means* that something has happened and what the likely responses are, making it easier to put events in context without having to stop and think through what the impact of event X might be on the whole battlefield. That's about all I do.
67234
Sure! Various bits of inspiration follow.
Textual: The opening speech draws heavily on several of Napoleon's early speeches. The Valley Foal speech draws on "The Crisis" by Thomas Paine, read to Washington's troops at Valley Forge. The other speeches are original but the tone and feel are often designed to evoke other types of military speech. Place names, especially in Derpy's campaign, are based on place names in the American Revolution, and the geography and political situation is based on that as well.
Strategic: The ponies' original strategy is basically the Spanish strategy in the Peninsular War (1807)--peasant militias harass Napoleon's armies and supply trains through guerrilla warfare, while waiting for the main friendly army (Celestia's in the story, Wellesley's British army in real life) to be strengthened to the point where it could fight the French on an even footing. The winter is.based on a number of winters in extended military campaigns. The Gryphons splitting their armies because they fundamentally don't respect their enemy--and Derpy's insistence on taking advantage of the opportunity to defeat them in detail--is basically cribbed from the Italy campaign where Napoleon rose to prominence.
Tactics/Technology: Pretty much everything is a direct analogue to Napoleonic warfare. Lancers serve the exact same role that lancers did. So do heavier cavalry. Line infantry do as well, as do artillery. The battles are simpler, but the armies are smaller and even the most decisive real-life battle (like Austerlitz) would probably take 30,000 words to describe with any satisfaction. Some tech is a bit better and some is a bit worse, for in-universe reasons. That tends to come out in the wash.
I am also curious, was the winter in the beginning deliberately brought on by Celestia or was it naturally occurring? :3
68650
See:
66619
Damn, this is why I love a well written war story. Emotions and reactions can just get so... real.
I think you pulled off the emotions of the suicide bombers pretty damn well, releasing that trigger would be infinitely harder than anyone can ever truly realize. Poor Mayweather, you have helped secure one of the most landslide victories in recorded history, may your sacrifice for pony kind forever be remembered.
And man, not only does Major Almond have no idea what he's trying to ask Derpy to do, but he's being a total sassy pants all the while! Derpy is your general major! Show some damn respect! At least we got the foreshadowing of the bombing wings down though.
I got to say though, though I understand and respect your reasoning behind the lack of magic in combat I don't think I can really truly accept it. I mean, all the force of a light push focused on the end of a sharpened stick is more then enough to penetrate flesh on most creatures. I never expected the unicorns to run into combat brandishing logs like giant clubs or anything, hell I never even imagined them making weapons at all. But I mean, surely they can just use captured lion spears against the gryphon cavalry at least? In that case all they really have to do is lie down, brace the spear against the ground, and let gravity handle the rest. Speaking of Gravity, another thing they could do is just rain sharp objects on them; a simple knife dropped from only a few feet can still slice quite a bit of flesh. I admit, not a lot to cause a fatal wound wounds for the most part, but since all the combatants are quadrupeds all these objects have a really good chance at hitting an opponents spine. Ah well, magic or no magic, the story is still awesome.
I can't wait to see what will happen now that Derpy is much more better equipped, I wonder what will happen the other three gryphon armies, maybe Celestia and the mane 6 will fight them as they gather regather strength? It would be awesome to see them get them get some good victories of their own for a change. And I'll admit, I'm still really hoping for Grand Marshall Sparkle here. God that sounds so awesome, please say thats still going to happen!
Well, as always, I look forward to next chapter. Godspeed!
hey what i dont get is everybody other than big mac is ok with ponys killing themselfs if it was me id be pissed if my commanding officer told me to go blow myself up. i mean they are haveing A PARTY
69224sooo... lets say that a army has invaded the us(or wherever you live) youd be of if a teenager took command of a army JUST because the ruler likes that person
69260
You should really play closer attention. In an earlier chapter, Celestia tells Twilight Sparkle that she intended to make her the acting commander of the army once they reached Canterlot. She wouldn't just grant that to Twilight just because she likes her, and Twilight already demonstrated quick thinking and leadership qualities during their first battle. Besides, she already a Colonel and the the acting commander of the the other army is a small town mail mare. Its not that inconceivable.
Keep up the great work, bro.
Earlier the Mane Six were my favorite chapters but I've really come to love these two. Whenever I start to feel like we're re-treading ground something new develops with them. I remember recoiling in horror when Derpy almost agreed to start torturing prisoners, and now I've come so far around to her point of few that Mac is starting to sound out-of-touch.
I'm deeply curious what, if anything, inspired you to write this. It's so full of emotion that goes beyond the initial appeal of a pony wartime epic and feels very personal.
Can't wait for the next Chapter! Do you have an ETA for it?
70993
Monday. It's slowing down a bit now because I'm in the middle of finals season. I'm an English teacher in China, so "finals" for me means "writing, administering, and grading 13 different hourlong oral and 12 different written exams at levels varying from kindergarten to high school, in addition to 125 pagelong end-of-semester reports and recommendations for next semester, in addition to standard lesson planning and homework correcting."
So, yeah, things will be more like one a week for the next couple weeks.
71718 sucks for you
30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lsvktgOOyH1r394y9o1_500.jpg
also look what i found
:69682
the ONLY resion she is in the army is because she likes herimg.ponibooru.org/_images/a83681b69e3493a0ed8e00f29dfba1ab/4786%20-%20celestia%20Molestia%20reaction_face%20trollestia_the_molestia%20trollface.png
o yes i whent there sir
69682mlblogsichifan51.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/kijinnmaru-inconceivable1.jpg?w=348&h=333
72306
When Celestia chose Twilight to be her personal student, she was the sole monarch of Equestria. Now think about this hypothetical situation: it's the late 1600s. Louis XIV, the absolute King of France, has taken a child with exceptional talents and has been personally training him into and through his early adulthood. He has surrounded him with five other young adults with exceptional talent, and they live together in a village near Versailles. The protege and the king regularly communicate regarding the child's development.
Now the protege is an adult, and war comes to France. Louis XIV gives the protege a commission in the army. Is this unrealistic? Of course not. He's been grooming him for leadership practically since birth; why on Earth would he not send him to war with the rest? The protege ends up succeeding enormously. Is this unrealistic? Of course not; the protege is incredibly talented (the reason why he was chosen) and has had a lifetime of personal instruction from the king. After failures by the ranking generals, success by the protege, and threats on the king's life, the protege is promised a position of leadership. Is this unrealistic? Obviously not. Is it "because the king likes him?" Well, no. The king does like his protege, but it isn't rooted in personal affection; the king likes him because he is competent, capable, and devoted to the service of the crown.
Twilight isn't a teenager off the street. She is literally Celestia's personal protege--those are the words she used--who has been studying under her personal tutelage for nearly her entire life, who is enormously intelligent, who has demonstrable (and canonical) leadership and organizational ability, who has magical power that--according to canon Celestia herself--is unmatched in a thousand years of history, who wields the possibly omnipotent Elements of Harmony, and who in this story has worked her way up from the lowest commissioned rank to a the rank of Colonel purely through her own merit. Frankly, if I were to make a pony who was better pedegreed to lead the army, it would be an outright Mary Sue.
72332 o so you are saying that celestia has been brain-washing her sence she was a kid
i get your point but pedegreed dont make some one better the hero of trafalgar was the son of a reverend for example
It is 5:00 a.m. right now. I have read all 29 chapters in a single session.
This is one of the most moving stories I have ever read, and I read a lot of them, especially war novels and documentations. Seeing all the ponies from the show thrown into such horrific circumstances and experiencing the bitter consequences of decisions and emotional pain they go through is... unsettling to say the least. Despite this, the fact that you managed to keep me glued to the text and shed a tear or two says a lot about the quality of your work as an author. And as it was stated before; By Celestia, you know how to paint a picture on the mental canvas of your readers. Even if this picture consists of lovely candy colored creatures being brutally maimed or cracking under unbearable emotional stress. Please keep on writing, I am very much interested in the way the story will unfurl. Derpy will from now on be "The Gray Mare" to me (comparable to "The Gray Death", anyone?).
72389 It helps if you listen to what people say rather than seemingly intentionally missing the point by several thousand parsecs. Pedigree (note the correct spelling, though if I put that for every word you've misspelled I would be here all bloody day) doesn't mean quite what you seem to think it means in this context; we're not talking about members of the aristocracy buying commissions, we're talking about somebody who is effectively tailor-made for a REMF role being, er, given a REMF role after proving herself to be good at it multiple times. There's no nepotism here; Twilight Sparkle is good enough at her job that there doesn't need to be.
tl;dr: Stop being a bellend and pay attention.
72332
Well, we tried good sir. We tried...
There's really no way to answer to responses like that without feeling like your kicking a small animal. I imagine he must be very young, because most of what we're saying seems to be flying right over his head and outright refused out of hand.
Also, thought about the magic a little more and realized from what you already written the lack of magic actually makes a lot more sense then I initially gave it credit for. I mean if Twilight's magic pretty much fell apart when her relations with her friends did, its really not to far of a stretch to assume most other unicorns are going through similar problems with similar effects; war is awful, which makes unicorns feel awful, thusly making general magic all around weaker. I feel silly for not fully realizing that sooner.
55623 I completley agree with you it's just I always think about the grand scheme of things.I mean if somebody kills themself for a cause they beleive to be right who am I to stop them and I don't care how they do it but when others die because of it it's where I draw the line.However don't take me as a person not willing to kill for the right thing to be done if nothing else truly NOTHING else can be I'd accept this fact but for some reason I think all these unecassey deaths could be avoided.
55623 I completley agree with you it's just I always think about the grand scheme of things.I mean if somebody kills themself for a cause they beleive to be right who am I to stop them and I don't care how they do it but when others die because of it it's where I draw the line.However don't take me as a person not willing to kill for the right thing to be done if nothing else truly NOTHING else can be I'd accept this fact but for some reason I think all these unecassey deaths could be avoided.
This story is so grimdark it's like some horrible crack that I'm now addicted to.
Must. Have. MOAR. Chapters.
Is anyone else having trouble deciding who horrifies them more out of Derpy and Screwball?
I mean, Derpy's treatment of POW's is downright evil, I cannot make myself like her at all with all those executions and suicide bombers. But screwball is much more... imaginative with her killings.
66619
To me, carcass shots sounds like napalm strikes in forms of shells or something if I can do a link to that. The suicide pegasi reminded me too much of Zero kamikaze pilots of Pearl harbor.
Keep at it, you have me hooked.
81284 There weren't any kamikaze at Pearl harbor. Dive bombers, torpedo planes fighters but no kamikaze. It would be very strange move to start a war when you have to use suicide tactics. It would be suicide
If I was one of the prisoners I would be terrified to have my tendons cut.
This story is scarier and scarier because of the pony-war combination reveals something unsettling: How different are we from these ponies? I read enough textbooks to know that war is like this, but combining these two very different things together just brings back memories when I resisted the notion that humans are not capable of being cardinal virtues of love and tolerance when war dictates.
I just fucking love this fanbase.
Godammit Big Macintosh have faith in your fucking leader ( I say fuck instead of buck because it makes more sense ), if you continually doubt an harass your general with threats of resignation then things are going to get alot worse. I have thought about ponies using guns for quite awhile now, and I can honestly say that I truly believe that there is almost ( "almost" ) no reason they shouldn't have them. I mean think about it, our magical candy colored ponies break the laws of physics, and nature daily! Who hasn't seen pinkie pie hold a jump rope with here hooves? Why can't a diffrent trigger mechanism be utilized, one without a trigger gaurd perhaps? Or maybe just have the trigger lay on the right hoof ( or left depending on user preference ) side of the pistol or rifle grip on the outside so manipulation wouldn't be as uncomfortable. Unicorns wouldn't have much difficulty, and beside its been demonstrated time and time again that our ponies are capable of walking on two legs, it may be uncomfortable but its possible, this leaves the front legs and hooves for the manipulation of technology.
Also, that battle, those ponies weren't suicide bombers, they were heroes, they weren't sent on a bombing run, they were sent on a hero run. I'm glad their families are being rewarded for their heroism, god save Equestria.