The Atlantean-Dominion War

by The Atlantean


14. The Battle of Emberforge Valley Part 1

Emberforge Valley: seven hundred square miles of lush vegetation between two highland ridges a hundred pony-heights tall. Its soft, expansive curve went from Mount Emberforge all the way to the Nautilus River, a north-south tributary of the long, winding Aquarius River five hundred miles to the east. The area was filled with lively forests that flourished from the extinct state of the nearby volcano. Rolling plains and flowery meadow dotted the valley like a spotted leopard. Even some streams cut through the valley, creating beautiful scenery for the common visitor. Silvercrest regretted the fact that a battle was about to ruin it all.

“Get up!” she cried to her troops. “Get up!”

There was immediate rustle of ponies. One of them blinked a couple times and saw the near panic on the Colonel’s face. “Should we be worrying, ma’am?”

“Yes. We’ve been lured into a trap. The orders are authentic, but they’re wrong. Get the others off the ground!”

The Second Coastal, along with the rest of AREA, had literally had only three hours of sleep while Silvercrest and Sarge watched the growing number of Dominion troops appear as the sun creeped higher into the sky. Eventually, they were greeted by a courier under the flag of truce who showed up to inform them of a coming meeting with the Dominion commander. But the ponies sluggishly woke up and drank some coffee.

A runner came into view. “Colonel, the Sarge says they’re here.”

“Very well. Are the other unit commanders coming as well?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there shortly.”

“No, ma’am. Now.”

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A rather wide stallion strode into the sleepy camp flanked by at least a dozen guards. He had an unnaturally golden coat and a glowing mane and tail. His cutie mark, if he had one, was covered by his steel armor and leather uniform. The stallion’s eyes were amber, and they seemed to see everything.

He walked to the table Sarge hastily set up less than five minutes ago. Finding simple chairs for everypony who came, he sat in the one designated for him and waited.

The Atlantean commanders arrived one by one, ending with Silvercrest and Sarge. The colonel began: “What gives us the honor, sir?”

“The honor is mine, really,” the stallion replied. “General Broken Limb, at your service, Colonel Moonshine Silvercrest.”

Sarge stepped up. “Sergeant Rolling Plains, General. Acting commander of the Atlantean Reserve Emergency Army.” He held out his hoof.

Broken Limb took it. “Ah, Sergeant, I apologize. I had completely forgotten your were in charge. Please forgive me.” Then his golden face showed many creases as he frowned. “Down to business: you surrender all of your weapons, logistical equipment, and medical division, and we let you go.”

“Um, excuse me? Were under die-rekt orders not to give you that. Sorry, no can do.”

“I do not wish to destroy your army. However, I can give you a full twenty-four hours to decide.”

A Commander laughed inwardly. “Sir, we can’t just surrender our stuff. If we do, you’ll just take it and then kill us. We won’t have any way to counteract such a situation.”

“You understand hypothetical situations, then? Good. Imagine you have a group of forty to fifty thousand ponies with you. A glorious, well-trained army with three times your number surrounds you and asks for a few things you would never part with. What do you do?”
“Beat the ever-living shit out of them. My boys can handle a couple thousand of yours any day.”

Sarge faceplanted into his hoof. Broken Limb had the most offended look on his face. “Well, I see that you do not need the time I was willing to give you. The Domination Army will have what it wants, and you will not succeed. Defend as much as you will, but you shall not prevail. Good day.” He stood and turned around, leaving the camp quickly.

“Well, shit.” Sarge said.

“That could’ve gone better.” Silvercrest commented.

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Crimson held his repeater with his forelegs, scanning the area ahead of him for enemies. He lay belly-down on the ground, behind a bush on the edge of a meadow. “No sign. Move in.”

Platinum and the twins crouched low and burst into the meadow carrying shovels. They dug a few holes and placed a couple “boom spheres” in each, setting up a tripwire around the entire meadow. Then they came back to him.

“All set, Red.” Platinum whispered.

“Good. Report back to Silvercrest while the twins and I set up a nice little surprise for the Doms.”

Northern Lights popped a single bottle he had in his saddlebag and gave it the Crimson, eyeing it carefully. Platinum watched for a minute before heading back to the camp. Crimson nodded to Southern Lights, who measured a miniscule amount of water and dumped it in. The three backed away from the bottle as it bubbled violently and made a lot of fizz. It died down and they crept to it once again.

“Is it dry?” Crimson asked.

“Yep.”

“You two know what to do. I’ll be lookout.”

The twins briskly saluted him. He returned it and took flight, perching himself at the top of a nearby tree. With a pair of binoculars on hand, it should be an easy job. The Dominion was in every direction - north, south, east and west.

Northern Lights gulped. He and his brother had a dangerous task: fill the bottle with experimental high explosive without blowing themselves up. It was easier said than done; they knew what happened to their uncle. He’d exploded trying the same thing. The two worked carefully, measuring to smallest increment possible, mixing the several chemicals with more care than a mother to her newborn filly. Then they poured it gently, gently, carefully into a glass bottle and strung it up in a tree to be set off if anypony came through the area via magic sensor.

Crimson stole a glance down to them. They waved him down. He flew away from the traps and met up with them. “Set?”

“Yeah. Time to wait.”


“They primed for ponies only?”

“Yup.”

“That settles it. Let’s get back before-”BOOOM!!!

The three looked to where the meadow was, expecting a Dominion force to advance through smoke and dust. Instead, the area was more peaceful than a sleeping baby. Crimson darted up and saw the source of the blast: Dominion artillery had begun firing on the main Atlantean campsite.

“This is going to be a long day,” he thought aloud.