He Who Walks The Graves
By: The Zealot
Chapter 20: … I Know Their Spirits Are Up In The Skies
December 28th, 1189 Y.R.S.
We were deployed separately, magical insertion. The frigid winds of the Northern Empires were far too strong, and far too clogged with snow and ice to allow for aerial drop-in. Long-range teleportation was the only remaining option. The two of us, myself and the Earth Pony I had still not met named Tank had been deployed a ways apart from each other. The reason I was told was that, due to the large amounts of energy required to get us so far into the frozen lands, it would be far too obvious, even to the Griffins, if two of us were sent at once. That was also the reason for the two-man squad.
Immediately I began my travel to link up with Tank, according to pre-mission briefing, we were about 2 kilometers from each other, in a radius about 5 km from the Griffin outpost. The maps function built into my helmet, and quite a bit of blind luck, made my journey rather quick and painless. It probably helped that I’d quickly changed my armour from black to a much more fitting white and grey pattern.
*****
Tank, it seems, had not been so lucky with his insertion. As I crested a hill, I saw my partner in combat against no less than four Griffin Blackguard, presumably the best of the best according to Werner, we had known there would be at least a few sent to such an important camp for such a fortuitous conquest as the Crystal Empire was.
Tank was handling himself quite well, easily dodging Griffin strikes, those that he didn’t being deflected by the modified Knight’s armour he wore. That being said, I figured I should help out at least a bit.
Shouldering my rifle I sighted one of the Griffins who was trying to hang back and lick his wounds, some rather savage cuts from one of the blades attached to Tank’s forelegs. There’s a reason you don’t take breaks in combat, and I pulled the trigger.
A loud bark was let loose from my rifle, quickly lost to the furious winds of the north, as the .50 cal round was sent flying from the barrel. Each bullet I had made myself, originally, and all the duplicates took on the qualities of the parent, thus, these were the finest Match Rounds in all of Equestria. As well as the only ones.
There’s a reason .50s are war crimes when used against infantry, because the head of the Blackguard exploded in a shower of gore, the red blood quickly covered by the never-ending snowfall. His friends didn’t even know he was gone, too taken up in their fighting. Tank saw, though, and glanced up to my position on the hill. He probably couldn’t see, but I gave him a nod as I sighted the next target in line.
A few moments later and another Griffin went down courtesy of a bullet to the head, and Tank easily took care of the remaining two as the assault got less furious due to the loss of combatants. Moments after that I had made my way down to the bottom of the hill, and Tank was chugging a healing potion.
“Fine fighting there, four Blackguards for one pony isn’t something you see everyday.” I offered him some praise, rather impressed at how he had shown no trouble in fighting them off, while at the same time looking towards the bodies for anything possibly useful.
“Bah, that was nothin’, had tougher fights in basic! That was some fine marksponyship from you, though, never seen a head blow like that before.” He replied, wiping the blood off his hoof-blades onto the snow beneath him.
“Compliments aside, our job awaits. From here we’re about 4 kilometers from the outpost, should be pretty easy going since there aren’t many hills in the way, but that also means we have to move through exposed land.” For his benefit I had brought a physical map with me in addition to the ones built into my armour, he easily understood what I was trying to explain with my hands, a far cry from some soldiers right out of basic.
“Well, beggars can’t be choosers. Just gotta hope these Blackguard were also the night-watch, and that this camo will be enough to get close.” He was almost completely professional, his gruff voice betraying years of service, and his tactical understanding explaining why he was chosen as my partner for this mission.
“Well, Tank, once more unto the breach.” And with that, we left, the bodies of the Blackguard quickly being covered in the northern snow.
*****
About 40 minutes later and we were outside the camp, laying down on our bellies on one of the many snow drifts that provided at least some cover from the walls. It was rather impressive what the Griffins had been able to do in the short time the outpost had been up. The entire thing seemed rather overfull, for lack of a better word. Few of those you would expect at a base, and a surplus of soldiers. No rank insignias either, it seems they had learned not to mark their superiors so openly.
Sadly, that didn’t prevent their bodies and actions from giving away who was of a higher position. I gently shifted my rifle in the snow, allowing Tank to peer through the scope as I pointed out targets.
“Our first step should be taking out the command structure, this entire base needs to be destroyed, but it’ll be much easier to set explosives in the chaos of multiple assassinations than a head on assault would be.” I proposed to the earth pony who was looking through the rifle scope with intent.
“Makes sense to me, you got enough of those bombs for the both of us?” He replied, his gruff tone turning up near the end as his curiosity was piqued.
“As a matter of fact, yes. Werner, one of mine, cooked us up some very special toys. High yield, decent blast, and remote detonated.” I chuckled, manifesting the detonator in my hand just quick enough to give him a glance before safely hiding it away.
His only response was a nod as I passed him an even share of the explosives. There were two main sections of the camp, it was easy enough to agree that we’d each take one end, pull out, and then blow the fuckers to hell. Of course, that’d all be after throwing the camp into chaos with the deaths of their command.
Tank had his target, and I had mine. Thankfully, by the time either of them were found, it’d be too late for the griffins. The chaos and lack of coordination would ensure nobody was keeping an eye out for sabotage, and that would result in a mission success.
*****
I didn’t waste time, the shadows were my home and in the night they were long. My blade sunk into the officer’s spine, and he fell like a puppet on cut strings as the shadows of flickering flame filled the room. I place him in his chair, facing away from the tent flap, leaving him looking to all the world as if he were asleep.
Exciting saw me forced to personally take out another griffin, a messenger sent to relay some question or other to the leader meant I had to ensure it’d take a bit longer than the few minutes this had all taken place in for the dead to be found. Hopefully they wouldn’t sent a backup messenger for the messenger, that’d just be excessive.
Ghosting into the night, I began setting charges in strategic locations. Masses of tents, mess halls, armouries, all of these were places to be destroyed first. That they happened to be the most important of places was, of course, by design. An hour had passed by the time my stock of explosives was gone, and so I made my way to our pre-decided meeting spot.
Tank wasn’t there, but this was expected. Propping my rifle against the ground, I sighted in and quickly found the only pony in the camp. He was surprisingly good at sneaking around for an earth pony in armour, or maybe these griffins were just particularly bad. Either way, I could see he was planting the last of his bombs, and would soon be leaving.
It was as he began making his way out of the base that I remembered how Murphy had a raging hate-boner for me.
It was sheer coincidence, unluckiness on an epic scale, a fuckin’ critical fail on the dice. A griffin turned his head at just the wrong time and saw Tank as he moved to another deep shadow. Of course, he called the alarm seconds later. Seconds after that, his head was missing.
It was too late though, sirens were going off all through the camp and Tank was running full sprint to the gate. He was clear for most of the way, it was only near the end shit started to fall apart. More griffins than I could take out in a timely manner began to swarm out, I picked off who I could and he was still ahead by a good distance, but they were gaining.
In the end, it was a simple choice to make as I thumbed the detonator. Tank would survive if he was somehow caught in the explosion, he wouldn’t survive if he was caught by the horde of griffins. But I am not a man of poor calculation, and though the shockwave staggered him, he continued to run as the base went up in flames. His pursuer pulped by the shockwave.
“You crazy bastard!” Were the first words out of his mouth, followed by a boisterous laugh that spoke volumes of his temperament. “You could’ve at least waited ‘till I cleared the gate!” He finished, walking over to me as I stood from my prone in the snow.
“I could have, but you were far enough away and they weren’t, waiting for you to clear the gate would’ve left all of them still chasing you.” I replied with a good natured chuckle, slinging my rifle as I motioned for him to walk with me.
“Yeah yeah, I see the logic behind it. Doesn’t mean I have to like it, I still can’t hear in my left ear.” He complained, although he didn’t seem to take it all that hard. “So, that’s it, we signal for home now?”
“That we do Tank, that we do. Mission accomplished and all that, although if you have some time I’d like to talk to you about something when we get back.”
*****
“Me, really?” The look on his face could be called skeptical, at best.
“Indeed, you’ve proven yourself to be an exemplary soldier. Your record speaks well of you, and from my personal experience I’d be proud to fight beside you.” I replied, my helmet off in our first face to face conversation.
“I mean, I can’t say I’m not honored but… do you really think you need a grunt?” He asked, uncharacteristically lacking in confidence. I guess job interviews are universally stressful.
“On the contrary Tank, I think I really need a combat specialist. That specialist happens to be you. You have great skill in fighting, a level head on your shoulders, and I know from your past that you won’t hesitate to do things your own way to accomplish a mission. You are exactly the kind of person I need on my team.” Was my response, an easy smile accompanying my sell, after all it wasn’t like I didn’t want him with me.
“Well… a Tartarus I don’t know but… I’ll do it sir, I’ll be your specialist.” He agreed, a smile finally showing confidence on his face as his hoof met my hand.
“Very good Tank,” I said, dramatically rising from my chair, “your first day starts tomorrow, a courier will give you directions on the morrow, but for now take your well deserved rest.” I smiled again as I lead him out of my tent, people were generally more receptive when you looked friendly, and that was even more true in Equestria.
The team was finally coming together, with Tank’s addition I had everything I could want in a strike team. We were small, yes, but we all had varied skills and, under me, the authority to complete missions however was required.
Those Germans weren’t gonna know what hit them.
December 29th, 1189 Y.R.S.