//------------------------------// // The War Begins: 4 - A Plan Revealed // Story: Into the Storm: The Flight of Firefly // by Firesight //------------------------------// Believe me when I say we all very much wish you were able to intervene and stop the war early, My Princess, as it would have ended things quickly with far fewer deaths on both sides, sparing us all the agony of invasion the war declaration spoke of. But as you say, the gryphons had planned well, and not one of us could have foreseen the lengths they went to and alliances they made to ensure you could not intervene. ‘Twas a strategy as brutal as it was brilliant, and to Prelate Salvio Gaius goes all the credit… and blame. But out at Epsilon, we knew none of what was happening back at Canterlot as the war began. We had our own battles to fight, and methinks my only concern then was saving my battalion and inflicting as many casualties as possible on our enemies, finding a way to counter the next attack that ‘twas all too certain to come. Before I begin the next chapter of this tale, however, there is something I wish to say. You suggested previously you were of no help in this conflict, My Princess. I must beg to differ. You were a symbol of strength and pride, and we fought for you as much as anything else. You were indeed an inspiration to us all and methinks your strategic insights and battle feats will never be forgotten for as long as Equestria lives. —Firefly No Good News Outpost Epsilon Pony/Gryphon Border September 1st, 1139 AC [Anno Celestae] 1220 hours I awoke not long after noon. I had decided to rest in the barracks with my first platoon. While ‘tis certain the cloud in my stateroom would be more comfortable, I didn’t want to sleep so deeply I’d fail to wake up at a moment’s notice. Wars could be decided by which commander reacts quickest, after all. And yet, as I’d been allowed a full five hours of sleep without being rousted or additional alarms sounding, ‘twas apparent the gryphons had not returned. My hopes rose a bit at the realization, but any thought of good news on my awakening was dashed as I flew to the watchtower and found Fell Flight and Blindside waiting inside, the former commanding patrols and the latter functioning as watch officer, monitoring communications as the leader of the alert platoon should. The grim look on their faces spoke volumes, and my heart sank to see it. “How bad?” I asked as I returned their salutes. “Bad,” my cat-eyed friend said simply. “The gryphons have made no further appearances aside from a few high-altitude overflights, but we’ve only had sporadic contact with division headquarters and the other border bases. Outposts Alpha and Beta have fallen silent and division believes them lost. Delta is fighting but faltering; at last report they’ve suffered severe casualties and don’t know how much longer they can hold. Omega has beaten off the first wave but lost nearly a third of their force. They’re uncertain if they can survive a second strike.” My second closed her eyes tightly at that, perchance remembering the friends she had there. There was little I could say to that. Fell flight had been previously assigned to Outpost Omega, our most dangerous border post, overlooking as it did three pony settlements in disputed territory. Given the high risk of attack, only the best Corps soldiers were assigned there, and she had previously been its second in command before receiving an emergency transfer request to Outpost Epsilon following a failed gryphon raider attack that left us shorthooved. Arriving with a reinforcing platoon, she had demanded I give her command based on her seniority and then-higher rank, willing to duel me for it when I refused. Though bested by me at the time, she had fallen into line and become a fine second, one I would trust with both my outpost and my life. I reflected that what she had overcome was in many ways even worse than what I suffered attempting to become the first Armored Guardsmare in Equestrian history. I had endured brutal training, but her thestral lineage had made her subject to much bigotry and hatred, her cat-eyes rendering her nearly day-blind and forcing her to get special crystal lenses implanted to filter daylight to manageable levels before she could become a soldier. ‘Twas a risky and untested operation, one that might well have blinded her if it had gone wrong, but she’d gone through with it and been able to join the Corps after… though only over the strong objections of not just the rank-and-file but the then-Aerial Corps Commander, General Squall Line. Believing she was a security threat as thestrals had once fought on the side of Nightmare Moon, his unofficial orders to harass her until she quit had culminated in an attempt to kill her. She’d been knocked out and left for dead by her comrades on the wrong side of the border, but she’d turned that into a triumph by stumbling on a raider plot and infiltrating gryphon territory to thwart it. She’d single-hoofedly rescued three kidnapped earth pony families, decimating the raider group that did it with nothing more than her wits and superlative night vision, earning the rarely-given Sapphire Sentinel medal and a promotion to Sergeant for her deeds. She’d done nothing but add to her record since, earning a reputation for excellence both in battle and outside of it; ‘twas no doubt in my mind she’d make a fine commander in her own right. In fact, she’d been awarded command of her former post of Outpost Omega just before the war started, scheduled to transfer there in but days. It seemed unlikely that would ever happen now, and I couldn’t help but wonder if either Omega or Epsilon would be standing much longer. “And Gamma…?” I inquired as to the status of our biggest border base located midpoint of the frontier, home to 5th Division headquarters and an entire brigade of troops. ‘Twas our only possible source of reinforcements at this point, and should it have fallen... “Gamma has not yet been directly struck but is under siege; as our largest and best-defended base, the gryphons have surrounded it and methinks intend to simply make it impossible to leave,” Fell Flight answered. “Methinks it makes sense, actually. With Captain Sirocco and the bulk of the 5th division’s ready forces pinned, ‘tis certain the gryphons can take their sweet time cleaning up the other outposts before focusing their full efforts on crushing Gamma.” “In other words, we’ve fared the best of all the Corps bases,” I said with no small dismay, sitting back heavily. “Or perchance just the luckiest to have only endured one ill-led attack. How could they come here with such poor tactics and inadequate force?” I wondered aloud. “Perchance they do not have adequate forces available given the sudden strike. Or perchance that sub-Tribune was operating off faulty intelligence, and believed us to still be a backwater used for border training graduates?” Blindside suggested, speaking from alongside us. “Possible,” I admitted as I dispatched an orderly for food, intending to eat where I could keep watch. “And what of the Equestrian Army?” “Methinks they fare no better than the Corps,” Fell Flight said, consulting a report scroll we’d received via the dragonfire crystal network we used to pass missives between our gems and 5th Division Headquarters at Gamma, giving it another glance before passing it to me. “Their bases and outposts have been hit hard by both Talons and Knights. Smaller garrisons have been crushed and the larger ones are pinned like Gamma, being ground down slowly. Those that survive are begging for Corps support, but…” “But we can’t provide it,” I finished for her, grumbling as our food arrived, a simple meal of carrots and hay as the mess hall kept its cooking quick and portions light. We had enough food for a fortnight, or perchance a month if we rationed it, though methinks I sensed even then we weren’t going to be here much longer. “Methinks what we have is barely enough to defend our own base, let alone relieve others,” I said as I took a plate. Blindside followed suit. “Methinks you are right. We’re in a gale without our primaries for certain, ma’am,” she said solemnly, then hesitated. “With respect, ma’am... ‘tis certain if we remain here that we risk destruction as well. As we have no explicit orders to stay, and we are out of contact with enemy forces... could we not attempt to make a break for Outpost Blue? ‘Tis the closest major Army base and at last report was still fighting…” she suggested hopefully. “Said last report was over two hours ago and the base is over eighty miles away,” Fell Flight replied for me, echoing my own thoughts as I’d already considered and discarded the idea some time earlier. “I do not think it wise, ma’am.” “Unfortunately, I must agree. If we were to arrive to find the outpost fallen, then we’ll find ourselves on the run, constantly hounded by the gryphons and not knowing where or how far we must fly to reach friendly forces. No, Sergeant, we cannot leave. Far better to make our stand here with our backs to our own base supported by our storm teams than to engage in a running battle with the superior numbers and stamina of the gryphons. Better, too, for our wounded to not have to move. We also have no way of transporting our unicorn and earth pony friends,” I reminded her in some reproach, as her suggestion would necessitate abandoning them. She fell silent at that, but Fell Flight spoke up again. “The bad news doesn’t end there, ma’am. Division reports they’re unable to contact Corps Headquarters in Canterlot,” she added. “It hasn’t been struck, we’re certain of that, which means there’s something interrupting our communications.” I frowned. That in itself was more worrying than the idea of being surrounded by gryphons. If we couldn’t contact Corps Headquarters or Canterlot, then we couldn’t receive orders or request reinforcements from high command. They might have already ordered our withdrawal or some other action but we never received it. And just how were our supposedly secure crystal communications being blocked? They operated off dragonfire, which was supposed to be unbreachable except to actual dragons. I thought of several answers, none of them good... And as it turned out, the truth was worse than any scenario we’d dreamed of. I must commend you again, Ambassador, for your superb strategy and your sheer bravery in bringing it about. ‘Twas to your great credit, and our great loss. Thank you, Captain, but I must in turn apologize for it, for the terrible destruction our new allies would eventually wreak on both sides. ‘Twas an alliance born of desperation, and one, ‘tis certain we would all yet rue. Greetings to all readers of this tale. I am Layan Kaval, and for those who do not know me, my name is revered and reviled throughout both Equestria and the now-former Empire for my role in the war. I was and am an elite warrior, the former commander of the Red Talons, or Talaeus as we call them, and ‘twas by my efforts that our plan to cage Celestia came to fruition. ‘Twas the brainchild of my lord and master, an earth gryphon I was then honored to serve as adjutant and personal bodyguard: Prelate Salvio Gaius, the commander of our armed forces, architect of the invasion, and perchance the most brilliant military mind the Empire ever produced. Though even he could not have foreseen the spies that would steal our war plans and smuggle them to Equestria, forcing us to launch our attack nearly two months too soon. With only slightly more than half our planned forces in place, our work was cut out for us on the first day of war and despite our success in many sectors, ‘tis certain many problems were presenting themselves as well, some more intractable than others... —Prelate Layan Kaval (ret.) Ambassador to Equestria Gryphon Kingdom Consulate Canterlot Enemy Mind Imperial Headquarters Bunker Raptor Base, opposite Outpost Gamma September 1st, 1139 AC 1340 hours Salvio Gaius, Prelate of the Gryphon Empire and overseer of the invasion of Equestria, stared at the young Optio who had reported to him via scrying crystal, his talons tapping on the stone table in his underground office. “So to summarize... As your Legion commander was absent,  your Sub-Tribune acted against orders to strike at an Aerial Corps outpost without any Knight support, and as a consequence, your cohort has been reduced to less than half strength, with yourself as the ranking officer, whilst inflicting only minimal casualties to Outpost Epsilon?” he recited in some disgust. The Optio visibly gulped on the other end of the connection; we’d installed the scrying network with great expense and difficulty so we could communicate quickly with our forces all along our far-flung border with Equestria. “’T-Tis true, sir! Methinks nothing could have prepared us for what happened! Their soldiers fought like demons and they had unicorn support! Their commander slew Sub-Tribune Yallis within seconds of the battle’s start and their storm teams decimated us! ‘Twas a slaughter, sir! Methinks there was nothing we—” “Silence, lad,” Gaius said, holding up a paw, and the Optio tiercel instantly obliged. The Prelate tapped his talons a few more times, then turned to me. “You have the read the report and now heard what happened firstpaw. What say you about this, Tribune Kaval?” he addressed me formally for the audience we had. I snorted, mantling my black-dyed, red-tipped wings, a visible symbol to all of my status as a Talaeus. We believed ourselves the most elite warriors in existence, and not without reason—our feats in battle were legendary, and you could not join our ranks without defeating an existing member in a death duel or performing a mighty martial deed. Like all my Talaeus brethren I was dyed black head-to-toe with symmetric but slash-like red stripes painted at intervals on my wings and torso. ‘Twas not meant to camouflage but instead make us instantly recognizable, giving me and all my fellow Red Talon warriors a frightful appearance designed to instill fear into the hearts of the Empire’s enemies. As their overall commander I was the best of them, but ‘twas my tactical mind and counsel the Prelate valued most. “I say Yallis was a fool of the first order. She sent insufficient force into the teeth of a prepared defense. She clearly hadn’t read the updated intelligence on Epsilon, and likely believed it to still be a backwater base the Corps used for fresh graduates to gain some seasoning on the border. As she ignored instructions to wait, perchance she thought she could gain some instant glory by assaulting the base early and without help,” I began in some contempt. “A rather harsh appraisal,” Gaius mused, though I knew from his tone and long experience with him that he did not disagree with it. “But a well-deserved one, my lord. ‘Twould explain why she departed before the Legion commander had arrived and the Knights assigned to her cohort were ready. Her exact words, according to Centurion Nael, were: ‘The Talons will be more than enough for such a small, unimportant base.’” I motioned at a report scroll we had received earlier. “Regardless of her reasons, her mistakes were numerous and her tactics ridiculous. Had she survived, I would say she deserved the most severe of punishment.” “Indeed. She failed to perform the most basic of due diligence, showed no respect for the foe she faced, failed to follow orders and as a consequence both she and her cohort paid a very heavy price,” Gaius growled. “‘Tis a pity she was slain quickly. For such egregious errors in judgment, I would have ordered her execution for gross incompetence and senselessly sacrificing her soldiers. Your analysis is correct on all counts, my friend. Never mind her willful disobedience, that she went in without mage support or anti-aura crossbow bolts ‘twas utter folly in the face of pony weather teams and unicorn shields. And lacking them, ‘twould seem that even a few unicorns are an excellent force multiplier—a lesson we must not allow the ponies to learn,” he warned. I could not but concur. “Your orders, sir?” I prompted. He considered my question for a moment, tapping his talons a few more times. “With things as they are right now, methinks we cannot afford too many delays. Her actions are a setback, but only a minor one, thank the Ancestors. Methinks this can be salvaged and our timeline restored,” he stated with certainty, then looked back at the Optio. “Your report is appreciated, young warrior, and know that your losses were not in vain. Be assured your cohort will shortly have more competent leadership—you! For taking command, for leading the rearguard in the face of an overwhelming enemy and for successfully extracting your force… I promote you to Centurion!” he pronounced, causing me to take an immediate note of it so the citation and promotion could be formally made. “Congratulations, warrior.” His beak fell open and expression went decidedly mixed. “I… thank you sir, but… I do not believe I should be rewarded for failure…” he offered tentatively, to which the Prelate shook his head and favored him with a smile. “I promote you for taking charge under the most trying of circumstances. The attack failed through no fault of your own, but that your cohort survives is by your efforts. I know leadership when I see it, lad,” he said, his tone almost fatherly. “Accept my thanks and those of the Empire as well.” Seemingly taking strength of the Prelate’s words—whatever his faults, he truly did have a talent to inspire—the newly minted Centurion bared his throat and saluted, standing taller and thumping the curled talons of his right fist against his left shoulder pauldron. “I will not disappoint you, sir!” The Prelate returned the gesture. “Of that I have no doubt. Now Centurion, if you wouldst please put the Legate back on…?” His face disappeared to be replaced by another, this one an earth gryphon tiercel bearing a Legate’s armor and command chain. “I must apologize again, my lord, for being away from the base when the invasion orders came and not being there to direct my legion.” He bared his throat in deference. “I was on leave visiting my family in Cirrus Cassada at the time and did not receive your orders until nearly dawn. I have only arrived at legion headquarters within the past hour and am still trying to retake command.” The Prelate waved off his concerns. “I do not expect my soldiers or leaders to anticipate the impossible, Legate Galea. Our preparations were necessarily rushed and many senior commanders were caught away from their posts. In any event, you have heard the Centurion’s report. I trust you will take the appropriate action?” “Yes, my lord. I am still catching up on battle action, but I can at least say with certainty that the Equestrian Army border bases in our sector are being steadily reduced, if with more casualties than I would have liked. Tribune Rialta did her best in my absence, but methinks our forces were not as well-coordinated as they should have been and she should never have allowed Yallis to launch an unsupported attack on Epsilon. I assure you this will be rectified quickly and our second strike will succeed!” The Prelate arched an eyeridge. “I am counting on it, Legate. And your decimated 5th Cohort…?” he prompted, to which the Legate turned to his side to address his out-of-sight subordinate. “Your remaining forces will be folded into the 7th Cohort, Centurion. Report to sub-Tribune Octavian at once,” he ordered, returning a given salute and then turning back to the Prelate. “With your permission, my lord, we will bypass and besiege Epsilon for now whilst subduing the remaining Army bases, and then attack the outpost again at dusk once darkness is our ally and we have sufficient Knight and Magus support available. You may be assured that I will not repeat the mistakes of Yallis and the outpost will not survive the night. By dawn, all resistance will be eliminated and we will control this sector!” Gaius indicated his endorsement with a nod. “I approve of your plans and will keep you from your duties no longer. Keep me appraised of your progress, Legate,” he instructed. “By your command, my lord,” he gave a ritual response and salute, and then his image winked out of the crystal. ‘Twas then that another voice made itself known, both grating and mocking. “Not everything going according to plan, I take it?” Gaius narrowed his eyes, and I suppressed a sneer at the newcomer, having no more love for her than the Prelate did. “I did not need to study the Sun Master’s notes to know this simple fact, Primarch: No plan survives first contact with the enemy,” he said, referring to the great and ancient Pony military mind he had become somewhat enamored with following his studies of Equestrian military history and culture. “Though perchance another piece of his wisdom applies here: ‘If you are ignorant of both your enemy and yourself, you are certain to be in peril.’” Primarch Livia Cassius Junius, the leader of the Paladins, snorted as she picked up a report scroll from his desk and read it, showing him very little deference despite the fact he bore the Empire’s highest military rank and commanded the whole of our armed forces, including her. The Paladins were, in theory, the answer to Equestria’s Royal Guard, as they were charged with defense of the realm and royal family. In practice, I found them wanting, as despite their magic-enhanced strength and stature, most never left the Imperial Capital of Mosclaw or sullied their blades with combat outside of duels. Livia and I had never liked each other, and Gaius held even less regard for her, believing her to be a mediocre warrior and leader at best and not appreciating her constant efforts to turn the Empress against him. Unfortunately, her presence was by royal decree. After the Prelate’s first plan for invading Equestria was dashed rather spectacularly, Empress Palamecia had decided a tighter leash on his war effort was required. Livia was that leash. She was officially the Eyes of the Empress, and that gave her the right to watch over affairs and come and go as she saw fit. “Perchance that is one bit of wisdom I’ll grant them,” she said as she strolled lazily by the Prelate, knowing full well how much her presence annoyed him. “Still, to lose over two and a half centuries for less than a tenth that in pony casualties… were our tactics just that poor, or were the soldiers at Outpost Epsilon just that good?” ‘Twas a valid question, so I offered my own opinion. “Perchance a little of both. Recent reports indicate their readiness to be the highest among the current Corps border bases. Their commander, Master Sergeant Firefly, is an Armored Guardsmare—the first in Royal Guard history—and has had them doing drills and exercises involving weighted armor similar to what she went through as a recruit,” I said, looking at a report scroll from the Office of Owls that detailed those facts… reports which Yallis had failed to read, to her great cost. “Corps soldiers with Armored Guardspony training…” Gaius mused thoughtfully. “A disquieting concept, I confess. If all their forces had such skill, this invasion could be far more costly.” He began tapping his talons on his desk again as he oft did whilst lost in thought. “Is that doubt I hear in your voice, Prelate?” Livia sneered, as always not missing an opportunity to tweak her longtime rival, believing him too independent and enamoured of maneuver and machinations than direct combat. “Are you having second thoughts about your great and glorious plan?” “Hardly,” he shot back, leaving me wondering again when the two would finally settle their differences with a duel. “I’m merely contemplating the best means to break that outpost and overcome their remaining border defenses. Gamma and Omega were expected to survive the first wave, though lacking the planned second legion, I am told that Tribune Tiberius has elected to lay siege to Gamma rather than attempt an immediate frontal assault.” “Then I trust you will be dismissing him for cowardice shortly?” the Primarch prompted, showing once again that she had little military acumen of her own. To his credit, the Prelate did not rise to the bait. He was generally quite reserved in his emotions, believing a cool head better served the interests of a military commander than a hot temper. “Quite the contrary, Primarch. I consider his decision the correct one. ‘Twas a wise call on his part, as the base was forewarned and on full alert by the time he approached. Had he still struck facing their thousand Army and Aerial Corps soldiers with but half a legion, he could have suffered the fate of Yallis’ cohort on a much larger scale. We will reduce Gamma in due course. Epsilon, though… methinks it beyond clear that Talons alone will not suffice.” He tapped the crystal’s base with a Talon, revealing another gryphon inside. “Centurion Nael, what is the readiness of your Knights?” “My 1st century is still supporting the 3rd Talon legion in their assault on the Equestrian Army border bases, but I am bringing up the 2nd now and commanding our cohort in sub-Tribune Malfor’s absence. We are still gathering our forces, but be assured I will have six more decades ready by nightfall, Prelate, including two Magus Knights. If you wish a full century, I will need some time more to muster them as the sub-Tribune and my remaining forces are still in transit and at least a day away,” the older but still potent centurion replied somewhat apologetically in another indication of how badly we were scrambling in the face of our own surprise strike. “Methinks that unnecessary, but best bring them forward as quickly as possible. Order them out of the tunnels and into the air to get them to the front faster,” he instructed, referring to the Diamond Dog-dug tunnels we’d been using to covertly bring our forces and war supplies forward without the Equestrian Intelligence Service or their pet Black Lance teams knowing. “In the meantime, dispatch your available forces to Legate Galea, and have them ready to assault Epsilon at his orders...” Your apology is accepted, ambassador, as you did your duty and did it well. I bare you no ill will for serving your side and doing what you thought necessary to win the war. Firefly herself would say you were the mightiest and most honorable of warriors, and in the years that followed you became Equestria’s greatest friend. What separated you from far too many was that you always served others and put your nation’s interests first. Methinks the allies you summoned, however, ultimately served no interests except their own… —Princess Celestia Besieged War Council Chambers Canterlot Castle September 1st, 1139 AC 1120 hours “My Princess! My Princess!” I had barely announced my intention to engage the gryphons myself when a lower-ranked Celestial Guardspony pegasus burst into the room, his wings twitching whilst looking wide-eyed and panicked—looks I rarely saw on the faces of my strong and stoic stallions. Their function was mostly ceremonial as I could easily take care of myself, but I did insist that they be superb soldiers, even if only for the sake of appearances. “We are besieged!” We all turned to him in surprise; even I was put off by the interruption and lack of discipline he demonstrated, unbecoming of my personal guard. “Get a hold of yourself, Sergeant. We are well aware the gryphons are invading...” Coral Torch said in some annoyance, only to be met with a sharp shake of the stallion’s head. “No! I mean, we are besieged here! In Canterlot! Right now!” he insisted, gesticulating wildly with his wings and forehooves from his hover. “What are you blathering about, Guardspony?” General Claymore asked next. “We’ve suffered assassination attempts, yes, but the gryphons are still over a thousand miles away!” “Ma’am, please listen! I’m not talking about the gryphons!” he spoke in increasingly exasperated but fearful tones. “I’m talking about—” His statement was interrupted, or perchance finished by a loud and savage roar I had not heard in hundreds of years. ‘Twas a call of challenge whose source was instantly recognizable and froze the hearts of all present in the room. I wasted no time after that, teleporting outside with a bright flash and flare of my horn, feeling my own moment of fear. Surely it could not be… As I rematerialized outside and beheld the horrifying sight, I realized it very much was. There were twenty of them, all enormous, their winged reptilian forms of varying shapes and colors flying in lazy circles around my capital. The mere sight of them caused much consternation amongst my ponies below, and for very good reason—even one of them was formidable, but the score I saw would be unstoppable, able to devastate vast tracts of land and reduce my armies to ash. I might be able to take on a few of them, but not an entire clan, and their presence here could only mean… My worst fears were confirmed when one of them spotted me and swooped down upon me, flaring his massive wings to hover before me. “Hello, young godling...” he smiled unpleasantly at me through his reptilian fangs, his voice little more than a low rumble I could feel as much as hear. “Know that we have waited a thousand years for this day. Know also that our clan’s vengeance is upon you, and we have come to cause your nation’s fall.” I felt a trickle of fear down my back as I recognized him, an ancient adversary Luna and I had banished long earlier, a being even older than us. He was exactly as I remembered except even larger than before, his great size likely borne of his even greater greed. He was a massive creature possessing violet scales, slitted green eyes and two rows of jagged teeth around which puffed black smoke, the barest hint of the inferno that lay within, one that could lay Canterlot waste quickly should he so choose. He was a fearful sight, even more so than his kindred who watched us with great glee, and worse, he and his clan had every reason to hate me… and by extension, all Equestria. Methinks I had no idea how the Gryphons had gained his alliance, but it mattered not then. “Dragon Lord Kalator…” I replied in a bare whisper, only then understanding how endangered Equestria truly was. The clever combatant imposes his will on the enemy, but does not allow the enemy’s will to be imposed on him. – Sun Tzu