His face feels warm... There's a tickling in his ear, as conscious returns to the stallion he hears someone yelling in his ear, he cant' make out the words but a trickle of something running down his face. Ahead of him he see's a set of controls, his hooves strapped into them, a sight mounted in-front of him, behind that a metal wall. There's specks of red on the controls and the wall, and on the sight. The voice is still yelling in his ear "PRISM! TAKE THE SHOT! TAKE THE SHOT!"
Not sure who we are talking about? Here's a quick rundown of the situation.
Name: Prism Light
Unit: 53rd Mechanized Infantry Regiment
Rank: Gunner of a C-E-L Class Ultra Heavy Tank
The Situation: A shot has just ricocheted off the frontal armor. Several shards of metal have been blasted off the interior armor, wounding the unicorn badly.
His Mission: Fire the main cannon before the entire tank is turned to slag.
And now, onto the story.
As the realization of the situation hits him, he tries to pull himself up and see if the sights are indicating that he be firing in vaguely the right direction before doing so. Before him a field, littered with the destroyed remains of other heavy tanks and aircraft. On the far end of the field a heavy double barreled tank sits, a Z-E class destroyer, partially obscured by trees it's dark green armor covered in foliage. It's guns trained on the C-E-L. Suddenly one of the barrels glows and fires, it's heavy magically enhanced projectile streaking across the field, There's a massive sound from his right as it grazes off the edge of the armor plating. Pony infantry in their heavy radiation suits are slogging across the muddy field infront of and next to the tank.
The voice is still screaming in his ear as a artillery shell slams into the ground, vaporizing several of the infantry troop to the right. Prism Light snaps the sights across to where he saw the glow of the barrel and fires, shouting, "I'm doing it! Get us the fuck out of here before we get shredded!" The shot rocks the tank back as a sound like a roaring dragon fills the cabin even through the sound deadening headset. A massive line of magic and fire streaks across the field slamming directly into the center of the Z-E, molten metal flies off in several directions and there's a couple explosions from the tank. When the shot dissipates the damage is apparent, The forward side of the Z-E seems to have melted and collapsed into itself. A infantry pony throws up a hoof in victory, moments before his head explodes in a shower of gore. There's a grinding sound as the tank begins rolling forward to the line of trees. The voice is back in his headset, Prism knows it as the radio operator, Nicknamed Bar. "We are pushing forward! Keep your eyes on those trees!" he yells back.
"Fuck! Where did that come from?" Prism screams, He looks round further to the right to see whether the shot came from the line of trees up ahead or whether it could have been from elsewhere. "How far are we from the trees? dammit" he mutters to himself. Several of the troopers have already begun firing back, Their magically charged shots slamming into the treeline, several small fires have already begun. The tank continues rolling forward, Pushing the charred remains of another lighter tank out of the way as it rolls towards the trees. A spattering of light fire hits the front of the tank but the armor is far too heavy for infantry based weapons like that to penetrate. The hulk of the Z-E has caught fire and several of the nearby trees are beginning to burn. The infantry finally begin to make it to the trees and take cover behind and next to them. There's no response on the headset.
(It is recommended to switch to this song at this time. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qv5THfI3uvg )
He throws a lever and the gun rotates away from the Z-E, trying to find a clearer area to plough through. "Where do we need to go?" he says into his headset. There is no response. "Who's still alive?" he says a little louder. In the short reprieve, he looks around the turret quickly. Forgetting for a moment that he is in his own contained pod at the front of the tank, just under the gun. The assumption being that this is the best location for sighting, behind his seat there's a small hatch which can be opened and leads through a very short tunnel to the central area, where the radio operator and secondary gunner (smaller caliber weapons) Sits. Above that in the turret is the commander and the driver. Each section is independent so if one gets hit it doesn't wipe out all. There's no response on the comms as the tank rolls closer to the trees.
"Hey asshole, you there?" He says into the headset as He returns to the sights, and checks the progress they've made. There's no response as it bowls over a tree, it's tracks shredding the trunk as if it were paper. Several troopers are hurriedly attempting to get out of the way of the tank as it continues rolling forward. "Hey, HEY! Are you okay?" he says with concern as he scrambles to free himself from the controls. But thee sharp metal splinters burn and twist in his chest, face and legs as he tries to remove the harness. The silence from the comms is deafening. Drops of blood spatter the front of his suit as they drip off his head, from all the movement.
"Fuck, FUCK" screams Prism, he tries to teleport himself out of the harness but fails, He feels a massive overload of magic coming from his forehead. It discharges in a shower of magical sparks, which bounce about the small pod. The pain is almost overwhelming and droplets of blood begin to cloud his vision. He groans in pain and frustration, collapsing back into his seat, and glances back into the sights. The tank has continued to grind through the trees, Simple wood is no match for the treads of the C-E-L, which were designed to eat through concrete and smaller tanks. Ahead, he can see buildings peeking through the trees, they appear tall, A cityscape maybe.
"Dammit!" He grits his teeth and tries again to summon up a little magic for a teleportation spell or maybe just telekinesis. The pain in his skull becomes to great to hold any sort of magic, The C-E-L Rolls through the last few trees onto a open hilltop, it dips down into a valley where the city sits, it's tall spires reaching towards the sky are unlike anything in the utilitarian equestrian cities. The buildings appear black/green, a city of changelings. Several lights begin blinking slowly in the pod.
"Shit!" He groans. No magic then. He looks round, trying to figure out what the lights mean, the pain clouding his memory. However, The first indicates a plane was in radar range or at-least something resembling a plane, at this point in the war the only way to distinguish friendly from enemy was by sight alone, radar only showed if something was there. Not if it was a friendly. The second indicates that the tank had been targeted by magical means. Most likely a changeling radar system. The rest indicated failures in the hull, various radiation and magic leaks and one steady green light indicating the gun is ready to fire.
What Gunner prism could not of known was that his attempts were in Vain, And with the tank Unpiloted it simply continued forward until this point in time, at which point Equestrian High Command had already made the decision to use mega-spells against the city. Now, 30 thousand feet above the city three bombers hovered, their payloads of mega-spells prepped. Finally, The Ok's were given and the payloads dropped. As the bombs made their way to the surface. the tank, unable to create any choices for itself continued to roll towards the city, it's lone living occupant. Blissfully unaware that he was about to be vaporized by bombs meant for an enemy who had evacuated the city hours earlier.
The flashes came in quick succession, each payload delivering enough magical and radioactive explosive force to make the surrounding countryside uninhabitable for hundreds if not thousands of years. In the after report Gunner prism, along with the crew of the C-E-L were simply labeled as "Missing in action". As so many of their comrades had been before them. The war continued on for another few years. But, in the end. The equestrians won out. Finally banishing the changelings from The planet they inhabited, To a world known as "Dunhexia". The war did many things, the loss of life was great. But the technological advancements allowed all upon the world to move out into the solar system, Eventually colonizing it for future generations.