The first day of the war demonstrated the truth of the old adage that no plan survives first contact with the enemy to both sides, and I am under no illusions about how lucky we at Epsilon were to survive it.
With the Army and Corps border bases only garrisoned at peacetime levels of ponypower when the Gryphons struck, our numbers were sufficient for dealing with raider groups, but not with a full-scale Imperial invasion. Had Prelate Gaius hesitated to invade immediately upon learning his war plans lost, within days he would have been confronted with a heavily reinforced border that would have bloodied and blunted his forces far worse should he have still attempted an attack.
Unfortunately, with few exceptions neither Gaius nor his commanders were foals, and the greatest gryphon threat, we would find, was not their numbers or quality of soldiers but their agility; their ability to react quickly and willingness to learn from their mistakes. Whether Epsilon and Equestria itself survived would hinge on whether we could learn to do the same in enough time.
Out of contact with Corps Command and with most border bases around us already fallen, we were on our own, and our only chance at survival, I increasingly realized, was to do what Gamma did and take the initiative. To risk our forces in a series of spoiling attacks that would either buy us time and force the Gryphons to react to us.
Or expose us to earlier annihilation.
—Firefly
Watchtower
Outpost Epsilon
Pony/Gryphon Border
September 1st, 1139 AC
1505 hours
I did not stay with Sky Sentry long.
In truth, I could not, as time was critical and our window of opportunity uncertain were our spoiling attack to work. But I held his hoof and reassured him I was there as the healers cast a sedation spell on him so they could operate and fully repair his numerous burn, slash, and arrow wounds. I still had no idea what Tartarus he’d been through at that point beyond what I could see, but ‘twas clear enough from his battle shock that he was likely all that remained of Outpost Delta. I could only pray he had not come all this way to Epsilon only to see it suffer the same fate.
Returning to the watchtower, we hammered out the remaining aspects of our proposed spoiling attack in the next ten minutes to some heated disagreement between Fell Flight and First Sergeant Still Way as to the best means to do so.
“Are you mad, First Sergeant? You want us to attack the assembly area by flying low through the inner canyon river ravine?” Fell Flight was never one to mince words. “’Twould be suicide! Such a plan would only work if we can get there undetected and burst upon them from close range, but ’tis all but impossible they would not have such an avenue of approach watched over and their assembly areas guarded by magus anti-intrusion enchantments! We would have no room to maneuver in that narrow gorge, and channeled into a small area as we would be, they could hardly miss with their crossbows! This assembly area lies downwind and we have plenty of storm clouds. We should instead use them to lay a thick fog over the canyon so they cannot see us approach and then do what Gamma did and attack the assembly area with lightning from above!” My second insisted, always preferring the direct approach.
“And methinks the sudden presence of fog in a desert canyon would be a dead giveaway that something was up, Master Sergeant,” Still Way said dryly, never losing his sly smile. “And yes, Gamma attacked from above, but only after launching their attack by bursting out of tunnels right on top of them. As their assembly area is located on the lower canyon plateau, methinks we can use the inner canyon gorge to the same effect.”
“Whilst in the canyon, our attacking force would be difficult to see except from directly above. If we move quickly enough and keep to the afternoon shadows, we could surprise them. And fear not their intrusion detection enchantments. When the assault force gets close, I can teleport in and use my own magic to disperse them,” he promised, nodding upwards towards his horn.
Far from reassured, Fell Flight stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “So you will teleport ten miles, which will send up an immediate flare to any Magus in equal range with even a shred of magical awareness, cast a counter-spell that they will also instantly detect, and then face down an attack from them with the bulk of your magic spent, whilst the gryphon force we seek to strike is likewise alerted and our assault force is flying a circuitous route through the narrow river ravine to reach them, making them easy prey to crossbow and Magus fire?” Fell Flight summarized, then turned to me. “’Tis sheer and utter folly, commander!”
Put that way, I was hard-pressed to disagree. “Unfortunately, methinks neither tactic is likely to succeed, Master Sergeant. Both present their own severe and likely fatal flaws,” I answered evenly, systematically analyzing the tactical situation as my former Epsilon commander, First Lieutenant Sundiver, had taught me, studying the maps of the canyon and marked assembly area carefully. The biggest impediment I could see to either plan succeeding was reaching the assembly area undetected, given we were being monitored by gryphon patrols at all times and they’d quickly see any move we made.
If we attacked the assembly area from above at full speed as Fell Flight desired, ‘twould take about two minutes to reach it, which was still enough time for the six hundred or so Talons and Knights in the assembly area to ready themselves for battle given ‘twas likely they’d be instantly alerted to our approach. I could not see that fog would help us either, as ‘twould take nearly an hour to create in large enough quantity to fill the canyon to that distance and, as the First Sergeant said, ‘twould be in itself a dead giveaway that something was up.
On the other hoof, a sneak attack through the inner river gorge presented even graver risk as loss of surprise meant certain death. ‘Twould take upwards of five minutes for us to navigate its winding path, and if we were detected they could trap us in the narrow ravine and a slaughter would result. There was also the question of bringing sufficient storm clouds along for the attack as Storm Team movement was severely slowed with them; they would not be able to join us until after we went in, but we needed them at the start to get a first strike in against their mages.
After voicing these thoughts out loud, I turned to my assembled senior soldiers and NCOs. “So regrettably, I do not see that either plan will work. I don’t suppose the Lances have any tricks we could use for concealment or getting past their magical detection methods, Sky Sergeant?” I asked, turning to Swift Strike, addressing him by his actual rank for perchance the first time. His true name or rank had not been known to my soldiers until the day before, when he had been recognized and revealed by the two Ravens we captured during their pursuit of the Changeling spy delivering us the Gryphon invasion plans.
As there was no further point in him carrying on the charade of being merely Corporal Zephyr Sparrow, 5th Division Logistics specialist, he was now wearing the stripes of a Sky Sergeant. “We do, but unfortunately… I do not have them available to me as the EIS only issues them on a mission-by-mission basis,” he told me apologetically, Gavian listening quietly at his side, now dressed in some Talon armor, a leather chestplate that was slightly too large for him supplemented with pauldrons and vambraces. He had painted them sky blue at my instructions as opposed to their usual silver, matching the color of Corps combat uniforms and making him easily recognizable to my soldiers. He was there simply because I wanted him in Swift Strike’s presence at all times, but as I glanced at him, I saw he was studying the map intently himself, his sword and a purloined crossbow and quiver strapped to his back.
Whatever his thoughts were, he remained silent as Swift Strike spoke again. “In my opinion, your analysis is correct, Commander. With due respect to your magical talents, First Sergeant, I fear Fell Flight is right that for you to teleport in and attempt to magically disable their enchantments would simply send up a signal flare that we were approaching via the inner valley.
“But attempting to cover the valley with fog as a prelude to coming in high as the Master Sergeant suggests would give them ample opportunity to ready themselves. Perchance in response they would simply leave their assembly area to get above the canyon rim and level of the fog before we could strike. ‘Tis what I would do were I the enemy commander and I saw fog rolling in, ma’am.”
“If neither plan will work, then what will we do?” Fell Flight’s enthusiasm was starting to wane. “I see no other potential approaches other than through the canyon itself… wait! Perchance we are making this too complicated. What if we simply create a small storm to do the work for us?” she asked us all eagerly. “A mere fifth of our storm cloud cache would be sufficient for the task. As ‘twould not be full scale, methinks we could spin up a mini supercell in minutes and send it crashing down the canyon. They are located around several bends of the river and methinks they might not see it coming…” her voice trailed off as methinks she saw the flaws with that plan even as she spoke.
“As much as I would love to make use of a supercell against them, miniature or otherwise… methinks ‘tis little chance ‘twould either hit its target over that distance without us there to shepherd it, or that the gryphons would not evacuate its path in time,” Storm Sergeant Blue Bolt, the stallion leader of our weather teams, pointed out. We had standing orders prewar to retaliate for any gryphon incursions with superstorm strikes against their base of operations, as Gamma had done following a Raven raid on Epsilon against Raptor Base, and had received sufficient stocks of storm clouds to make them.
But superstorms were strategic weapons, not tactical ones; they were typically only good against fixed targets like cities or surface bases, not against highly mobile gryphon soldiers in the field. And as their attacks had apparently been launched out of tunnels and underground facilities, they were of no use here. “And were we to make a full-scale one so it did not have to be targeted precisely, methinks ‘twould be difficult to do so unharrassed and they would see it coming from many miles away,” Blue Bolt continued, echoing my own thoughts.
“Then what is left?” Fell Flight asked, deflated again. “If we cannot safely strike them from distance, or from up close, then how can we reach them?”
“How indeed…” I closed my eyes as I thought, and then it hit me. “Perchance our thinking is too rigid. Perchance the answer to our dilemma lies not in either option… but both of them,” I said with what was admittedly deliberate coyness. But methinks I was feeling quite pleased with the idea that had just occurred to me.
“The key will be to combine their strengths to overcome their weaknesses. ‘Twill take perfect timing, but methinks we can still surprise them if we do this…” I said as I picked up a quill to place in my muzzle, dipped it in ink and began to draw directly on the map.
Methinks ‘twas an excellent plan you came up with, Captain, and I must commend you on your superb tactics and thinking, using your limited force and resources to maximum effect. ‘Twas a quality that would bedevil us in the days and weeks to come.
On the gryphon side of things, we were quite good at conventional warfare, excelling at combined arms and maneuver. Given a tactical puzzle, our field commanders could solve it quickly. But where we came up short, especially early in the war, was in the exercise of unconventional warfare. We were too often caught off-guard by pony daring and resourcefulness; your willingness to take chances and resort to means we would have thought foolish, as Captain Sirocco demonstrated when her forces found and broke into our underground headquarters bunker beneath Raptor Base.
—Layan Kaval
Imperial Headquarters Bunker
Beneath Raptor Base,
Opposite Outpost Gamma
September 1st, 1139 AC
1450 hours
I could not help but feel excited and eager as the alarms sounded throughout Raptor, and we began hearing panicked and quickly silenced reports of black-suited ponies entering the complex, clearing corridors and slaying gryphon and diamond dog alike as they went. The latter were their initial targets, and quite rightly to start, as given but half a chance the Dogs could bring the tunnels right down on their collective heads.
‘Twas clear, however, they had ambitions far beyond them as we received word that nearly a hundred Equestrian Army troops from the Gamma Garrison backed by two Black Lance squads began fanning out through the tunnels, searching for their primary target—Prelate Gaius himself. Worse, we could not evacuate to the surface as we received reports of a surface attack as well; the buildings over which our entrance and exit shafts sat were destroyed and collapsed on top of them.
‘Twas a dangerous situation, doubly so as we had no Ravens to counter them; they had all been assigned to various special operations all along the frontier—a fact that Captain Sirocco was now taking advantage of. She was an aggressive and very competent commander; a necessity for commanding the Equestrian border forces, and we knew her well from prewar parleys. She was insulting and condescending but she was also no fool; she knew Gaius well enough to know that he would want his command center right up against the border where he could oversee the invasion and react quicker. She therefore thought to kill him and cripple the Imperial leadership from the start.
Methinks I had no idea how her forces had found the tunnels, which would have required them to go right under the canyon, but it did not matter then. What did matter was saving our bunker and for myself, carrying out my duty to protect Gaius at all costs. His office was well-protected, sitting at the center of the tunnel web, but as they had miners of some form in their ranks, ‘twas possible they could do what the Diamond Dogs did and just bring the ceiling down on all of us.
“Stay back, My Lord!” I ordered him, speaking no longer as his adjutant, but as his bodyguard as I heard a commotion outside; Talon security forces taking station to defend. “On my skill and honor, they will not gain entry.”
Primarch Livia Junius Cassius was not about to stand by either. “Fear not, Prelate. I will defend you as well… if only because ‘tis my duty and I wish you to live long enough that the Empress hears of your failure of security and refusal to strike Gamma quickly!” Livia drew one of her massive Paladin war maces and took her own rougher stance, standing nearly a head above me.
In response, Gaius calmly got up from behind his desk, opened a hidden wall compartment and withdrew his own custom weapons: paired battle axes; lighter and shorter variants of standard Fortis Knight versions he had designed and forged himself. Though an earth gryphon, he eschewed the heavy weapons and armor most of them wielded in favor of lighter arms that suited his own unique style of combat. “I thank you both for your concern, but ‘twould seem they have gone to a great deal of trouble to find and target me. And I would hate to disappoint them by making no appearance at all,” he told us easily, clipping the axe sheaths on his back, his prelate command chain and breastplate glittering in the low light.
‘Twas only then we realized he intended to engage them himself. “But my Lord!” Livia and I chorused, for once in agreement.
“But nothing, Tribune and Primarch. I am a warrior and will face them as one! To flee in the face of this desperate attack would be dishonorable and is in fact quite unnecessary. As they wish to slay me, I will grant them the chance. In truth, ‘tis been too long since I have tasted close combat, and not even a Prelate should insulate himself from it,” he said easily, and with that, he stepped right between us and out into the hallway to the shock of all present, his eyes and ears scanning the area for just a few seconds before speaking into a special scrying crystal, this one keyed to let his voice be heard throughout the base.
“Listen and take heed, soldiers and allies of the Empire alike!” he began, addressing both our headquarters staff—all soldiers and warriors in their own right; the Gryphon military to this day has no conception of noncombatants—and the surviving Diamond Dogs present as well, speaking in Equish for their benefit as they did not know the gryphon tongue. “Rouse and resist! Do not attempt to fight them singly; instead, form decades and fall back to the inward corridors of the second ring! They may have an initial advantage of numbers, but that matters little down here—choke the tunnels and bleed them dry around corners and in narrow spaces!
“Earth Gryphons to the front with shields and hammers, Sky Gryphons and Diamond Dogs form mobile decades to the rear! Stand fast and await further orders! And be assured we WILL win this day!” he said to the audible cheers of his troops; knowledge of the Equestrian language was a prerequisite for being assigned to his headquarters staff so they all understood him as well.
With that, he turned to me. “The Equestrians undoubtedly heard all that, but it matters not. They must complete their objectives quickly or be wiped out. The Talons can hold off their army troops, but the Lances are another matter,” he noted. “And as we lack Ravens to counter them, methinks the task of slaying them will fall to you and I, my friend…”
Thank you for your latest contribution, Ambassador. Methinks Prelate Gaius was many things, but ‘tis certain that a coward was never among them. Captain Sirocco’s plan was well-conceived, and she thought the risk worth it given the chance to decapitate the Imperial invasion force on the first day of the war. But we knew not what was happening at Gamma back at Epsilon, where we hurriedly organized for our own attack. knowing full well that defeat meant our immediate destruction.
Before beginning, I wish to note that in the past, I have not publicized how this attack was launched, for the simple reason that I wished to use it as an exercise for my students at the Equestrian Officer Academy. I present them with the situation as it existed that afternoon, giving them the problem of how to conduct a spoiling attack or otherwise buy time as we faced that day, challenging them to form war councils and come up with a solution within a time limit to simulate the pressure we were under.
Sometimes they surprise me with options I never considered, but more often than not their solutions are easily shot down. Regardless, the purpose is to teach them to ‘think outside the box’, as I still consider this without any humility one of the best early wartime examples of me doing so.
On a side note, I offered to pass the pen to Fell Flight for describing this coming attack, which she played a major role in, as she has not yet contributed any more than a few asides to this tale. But she declined, reminding me that this operation was my plan and not hers, and as such it deserves to be told by me.
—Firefly
Watchtower
Outpost Epsilon
Pony/Gryphon Border
September 1st, 1139 AE
1608 hours
Under normal circumstances, any attack contemplated by Equestrian forces against the gryphons would undergo many days of planning and rehearsal, as had happened before the Phoenix Fire operation. Even the Lances did not launch hasty operations; they carefully analyzed intelligence first and chose everything from their objectives to their timetable to even their insertion points quite carefully.
We had no such luxury at Epsilon. We had to plan and launch this attack in under an hour, if possible, or the gryphons could preempt us with a second wave. ‘Twas an interesting exercise in passing instructions and making them understood, keeping things simple enough that they could be carried out on such short notice whilst still bringing sufficient force to bear, yet also leaving us able to withdraw quickly enough to return to base and defend it from the counterstrike our attack was certain to provoke.
If we did not—if we lingered too long over our target or the timing of our two-pronged strike was disrupted—our annihilation was all but assured.
I targeted a normal platoon rotation for the start of our operation. On wartime alert, we were on a four-shift schedule to suit our four platoons. During a rotation, one patrol platoon would become the ‘resting’ force, allowed to eat and sleep, whilst the previous one would start patrolling and the one they replaced in turn would become the ready platoon; resting and eating but keeping in gear, defending the base and able to respond instantly should the gryphons strike again.
The previous ready platoon would in turn become the second patrol platoon, and this rotation happened once every six hours… plus or minus an hour to keep the gryphons guessing when ‘twould occur and not let them take advantage of a predictable schedule; a tactic recommended by Fell Flight which she in turn learned from Windshear.
The size of the strike was another issue, as we were planning to challenge six hundred soldiers with not even a hundred of our own. I wanted the two fresh platoons available for action, which meant the two just coming onto patrol duty, whilst the resting ones would prepare a defense of the base in conjunction with the remaining storm teams. I could only commit two teams to assist the strike, which hardly seemed enough, but as it turned out, ‘twas all we could take over that distance.
As the plan evolved, our hope was less to slaughter them in the assembly areas than to bloody their beaks and get their attention, then break contact and induce them to pursue us, with the goal of luring them into an ambush back towards our base.
‘Twas the form the ambush would take that was the key. The purpose of creating a superstorm was (mostly) to kill or destroy anything in its path with massive amounts of lightning; the hail, wind and tornadoes it could also generate were actually secondary to its primary threat. But we didn’t need to create a superstorm to produce its lightning threat, for there was another way storm clouds could be used other than directly. ‘Twas a rather dirty trick Osprey knew from her earlier days on an Outpost Omega storm team, though ‘twas very difficult to use in most cases.
I immediately set out to create conditions under which ‘twould work, ordering our two resting platoons commanded by Blindside and Second Lieutenant Snow Squall to start using storm clouds to create fog, which they did with a gusto, bucking them to break them up and gradually saturate the air around us. Before long, not even the desert sun could burn off the large amounts of moisture we were adding to the air in the immediate vicinity of Epsilon, and fog began forming around us, spreading out laterally but most of it quickly pouring into the canyon. I immediately got back word of Gryphon forces standing to as they observed our activity, anticipating some move.
Whilst this was happening, our other two platoons commanded by Flight Sergeant Osprey and Master Sergeant Stormrunner began a normal patrol pattern, awaiting my signal. Fell Flight and I remained at the base for the time being, as seeing us leave ‘twould be an instant indication that an attack was underway. I waited as long as I dared, and then, suddenly shot into the air, joining Osprey’s platoon as the lead force as we broke patrol and flew at full attack speed for the gryphon assembly area, leaving Lieutenant Snow Squall in charge of Epsilon’s defense—’twas only by happenstance that his platoon was one of the resting ones, but still fitting, given he was supposed to be taking over command of the base from me anyway.
We charged down the canyon at about halfway below the rim level to make sure the Gryphons would have to be over the canyon to see us, but it made little difference as Talon patrols converged on our formation. They could not match our speed, but they could easily cut off our retreat in the canyon, box us in and then rain crossbow bolts upon us, knowing we had no unicorn shields available to us this time.
Nevertheless, we did not falter, charging forward, heedless of the danger and the forces moving to surround us. “Soldiers of Epsilon! Strike!” I shouted into my blue command gem loud enough for the Gryphons to hear as the assembly area came into view down around a curve and we saw a cohort of Talons braced by a few dozen Knights organizing to meet us—and worse, there were two mages in their mix, taking position out on the wings. Despite our rapid approach, neither they nor their rank-and-file soldiers moved to engage us but rather, they assembled into three-decade Turmas—their platoon equivalent—and moved to bracket us, brandishing their crossbows and waiting for us to come into range, intending to catch us in a crossfire before closing in. After whittling our numbers down, they would undoubtedly send the gold-armored Knights in first to break up our formations and kill our leaders, then let the Talons swoop in to finish our broken squads singly.
‘Twas the correct strategy, and I noted with some grim satisfaction from the head of our formation that my initial analysis of Fell Flight’s suggested plan was correct—that no matter how fast we were, our attack stood no chance of succeeding; the Talons and Knights were simply too well-trained and quick to react to an obvious threat.
Which was why the purpose our sudden lunge towards the assembly area with me leading ‘twas nothing more than to draw the attention of the gryphon forces, making sure all eyes were on us and not on the inner canyon river ravine. For trailing our platoon, winding its way through in inner gorge rapidly filling with fog from simple spillover was Master Sergeant Stormrunner’s third platoon, with Fell Flight at its fore.
But we had to hold their attention long enough for them to arrive and burst out just below the assembly area, so just before we entered effective crossbow range, I gave a second order.
“2nd platoon! Break!” I shouted into my gem and Osprey’s Omega veterans instantly obeyed, her three squads suddenly fanning upwards and outwards as we had discussed, turning away from the assembly area and instead on the Talon patrols that were trailing us and trying to surround us. Flying in spirals to throw off crossbow fire, we targeted and closed on isolated decades quickly to slaughter them with our speed, much as had happened earlier that morning, though three of Osprey’s platoon fell as the surprised Talons fought savagely and desperately.
Interestingly, ‘twas their earth gryphons that gave us the most trouble despite their lack of speed and agility in the air, as they could simply go back to back with their heavier weapons and armor and be very difficult to slay. I could only idly note this, however, as the second phase of the plan began. Our sudden move to turn on our pursuers induced the assembly area gryphons to come after us, hoping that their comrades could hold us long enough for their numbers and Knights to tell. They would arrive in less than twenty seconds, at which point the engagement became a war of attrition we would lose no matter how good or fast we were…
Until there were a pair of flashes and thunderous booms from below, lightning lancing upward to target and kill both gryphon mages, who did not have their shields up. They were followed by Master Sergeant Stormrunner’s platoon surging out of the river ravine just below the assembly area, supported by two storm teams that Still Way had teleported in—the maximum he could move over that distance. Their presence undoubtedly triggered the anti-intrusion enchantments as Fell Flight had feared, but it mattered not as the mages were already slain and the battle shortly joined.
The advantage of surprise would not last long, but Fell Flight and Stormrunner made the most of it, targeting trailing decades, several quick rounds of lightning breaking up tight formations at which point our own squads descended, taking out thirty more Gryphon regulars in short order.
Compounding the threat, I ordered Osprey’s first squad to turn again on the assembly area cohort, threatening to pin them between our two platoons. With their mages gone, lightning combined with Still Way’s spellcasting went a long way towards equalling the odds, and confusion reigned in the gryphon ranks for a moment as they were uncertain which threat was worse. But their commander finally turned the bulk of his troops on the second force as crossbow bolts began to rain down upon them, Knights in the lead, their armor protecting them from the First Sergeant’s curses and magical bolts except at close range. He spared two centuries, however, to wheel on myself and Osprey’s 2nd and 3rd squads, still hoping to pin us against the decade-sized Talon patrols we were destroying in detail.
That was our cue. We’d only inflicted perhaps sixty casualties, mostly Talon, whilst suffering half a dozen of our own—hardly enough to cripple them or prevent their pursuit and if we stayed any longer, their numbers would tell. “Epsilon! Withdraw!” I ordered both platoons this time, which dove into the inner canyon again, the storm teams abandoning their clouds after setting them to go into continuous release in an attempt to discourage pursuit. Speed was crucial as we navigated the inner canyon back the way we came as fast as we dared, Still Way pacing us with short-range teleports that cost him less energy, knowing that if a gryphon force appeared in front of us or overhead and started raining crossbow bolts down, we were dead.
But that opportunity was quickly lost, not due to us outracing their pursuing force, which ‘twas impossible in the twisting inner gorge anyway, but due to the presence of fog gradually filling the canyon. Colder than its surroundings, it quickly settled and rolled down the lowest part of the gorge, which was the river ravine, masking it first. We entered it a third of the way down and it quickly hid us from view, ending the crossbow threat and making any attempt to close with us directly a very dangerous proposition.
They did not try. Somewhat to my shock, we’d actually gotten away with the first part of the plan, bloodying their collective beaks and making our way back to base with minimal losses, the gryphons in pursuit, pacing us from overhead by flying over the level of the fog, perchance hoping to see our heads pop up. “Lieutenant! We’re on our way back! Tell your gunners to hold fire!” I called into my gem to Snow Squall as we got back in range of the base, an occasional explosive crossbow bolt fired blind from overhead lighting up the mists and showering us with dirt and stone fragments, their sound mixed in with the occasional boom of a lightning bolt from one of the four storm teams still defending the base, who were loosing bolts at distant targets from above the level of the fog.
To my relief, he responded immediately; I’d half worried the sounds of lightning meant the gryphons had already pounced on our weakened base before our defenses were set. “Aye-aye, ma’am! Be advised, Gryphon formations numbering several centuries are closing in as we speak! We’re sniping at them and almost ready to receive them, so mind your flight path!” Snow Squall reminded me.
“Understood! 2nd and 3rd platoons! Fall back within the cloud cordon along the prearranged route! Do not touch the clouds!” I reminded them all as the pursuing gryphons closed in around us only to find the base shrouded in mists. An adventurous decurion tried to close but didn’t live long enough to regret it as we saw the shadows of his decade above and Fell Flight sliced upwards with a single squad to kill them.
We broke out of the ravine when we saw two clouds bracketing the river. With visibility poor and the fog thick enough to hide the bottom of the main canyon walls, a single lightning bolt was fired at my order from the top of the cliff to the bottom, marking the safe path back to base. We took it immediately, shooting up and over the cliff wall to land back on our own assembly field, where we saw Snow Squall’s platoon still creating fog and scattering clouds about, often times just sending them floating on a gust of wing-generated wind towards the outer reaches of our airspace, increasingly hidden by the humid air.
“Ma’am! Beg to report!” Snow Squall came up to me and saluted immediately as a flash of light announced Still Way’s return as well. “The gryphons are probing the perimeter but methinks they are just a bit reluctant to enter the fog bank. So I’m trying to encourage them. On my orders, the storm teams are engaging the gryphons at long range, and Blindside’s platoon is about to conduct a hit-and-fly attack against one of their nosier centuries. Methinks she should be getting there right about…”
There was a sudden eruption of shouts and battle cries followed by a series of shrieks on his open crystal link to Blindside herself, several miles away. They lasted less than ten seconds before she ordered her platoon to break contact and stay tight on her wing as she led them back in through the storm cloud-strewn airspace, her uncanny awareness of her surroundings allowing her to pick her way through the danger zone even in dense fog and lead her troops safely back to base.
“... now,” Snow Squall finished mildly with a pleased grin, one I then shared, recognizing what he had done. After our surprise strike and a second, even more ‘cowardly’ assault—hit-and-fly tactics like that were dishonorable to gryphon soldiers—they finally took the bait, charging in after Blindside’s platoon, perchance reasoning that whatever path she was following was a safe one. But the wind of our platoon’s passing drew the clouds in behind them, and despite their narrowed formation, all it took was a single gryphon soldier brushing a fog-hidden storm cloud to…
There was a series of muted flashes and crackling booms as a pre-triggered cloud erupted with all its stored lightning at once, detonating in the mist and sending the gryphon soldiers that escaped its barrage scattering and blundering into more clouds, decimating the pursuing Talon century within seconds, catching them in a crossfire of multiple lightning explosions; we could hear their screams even without the aid of the crystal gems, only for them to swiftly be silenced.
“Well done, sir,” I nodded approvingly as a cheer went up, both at the results and safe return of our units, our attack and ambush having accounted for another two centuries of gryphon regulars. “That should be an object lesson for the rest, so let’s press our advantage. Patrol platoons! Clear paths to the periphery! Storm teams! Take station there just inside the mists and fire at targets of opportunity! Switch locations frequently, and should mages or large numbers of Talons or Knights threaten, set the clouds to discharge-on-contact mode and retreat to the interior, closing up the paths with wind behind you!”
“Aye-aye, ma’am!” came the enthusiastic responses as my soldiers moved to obey, as exhilarated at our success as I hoped the gryphons were disheartened. As I dispatched Fell Flight back to the watchtower so I could go back to the infirmary to check in on Gavian and Sky Sentry, methinks I couldn’t help but worry what the Gryphons would try in response and what the evening hours would bring. We’d bloodied them badly, accounting for twice our own numbers, but ‘twasn’t even a tenth of the legion they had in the area. We also hadn’t really faced the Knights yet, and ‘twas no doubt they and the Talons were chomping at the proverbial bit to repay us after our sneak attack.
Well-thought and well-fought, Captain.
Your victory, I can’t help but note, was small but bought you precious time whilst forcing Legate Galea’s 16th Talon legion and his attached Knights to focus most of their attention on you, preventing further advances in their sector until Epsilon was reduced—the very definition of a successful spoiling attack. I also note that its success ‘twas in large measure due to your subordinates being able to discuss and collaborate on a strategy; their willingness to offer up their own advice and observations instead of simply carrying out the commander’s orders without comment as happened in far too many gryphon units.
Your subordinates also showed good personal initiative when Lieutenant Snow Squall ordered an attack on his own to induce the Talons to follow and trigger your trap, destroying another century of troops in the process. Perchance ‘twould be of interest to know that our own tactical schools now use this raid, a mere pinprick in the greater scheme of things, as an example of collaboration and agility amongst senior staff, to say nothing of how a small force can stall and bloody a much larger one.
Prelate Gaius had his faults, but he, too, was willing to listen to the counsel of officers he respected, myself most notably. He also proved he was as good at small unit tactics as he was at grand maneuvers this day, to say nothing of close combat itself. Gryphons do not rise to his rank and survive the innumerable battles and duels it takes unless they are mighty warriors in their own right, as he reminded us all that day.
—Layan Kaval
As Gaius finished outlining his initial plans to our group and dispatching runners to communicate them instead of via the scrying network, a thunderous boom echoed down the hallway, shaking some more dust from the ceiling as it became clear the ponies had even brought some storm clouds along to clear stubborn resistance from corridors, causing the Talons beside us to shift nervously. We had no mages with us, as, like the Ravens, they had all been assigned frontline duty to make up for missing numbers. ‘Twas an oversight we would rue later; for now we would have to defeat the attack with what we had.
Gaius, however, was unconcerned. “An interesting and dangerous proposition, bringing clouds down here,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Straight line weapons cannot fire around corners, so their gunners will have to expose themselves. And that is when we will have them,” he promised, a sly smile breaking his face as we received reports that the raiding force had entered a large and now-empty office area, one of six that sat on the inner ring of the underground base. Like the others, it had large multi-story chambers with elevated offices and enough room to fly in but, by the Prelate’s orders, it had been evacuated in favor of defending the tunnels leading inward towards the center of the complex.
The headquarters complex itself consisted of two concentric rings dug by the Diamond Dogs, which were both studded with large office antechambers at intervals and connected via zigzagging passages. The ponies had entered directly into one of the outer antechambers, slaughtering everyone inside quickly, and were now attempting to reach the inner ring as a prelude to storming the center of the complex where Prelate Gaius presumably was.
They were finding the going quickly becoming much more difficult, however, as we shook off our initial shock and organized for defense. Those stationed in the inner antechamber had, on the Prelate’s orders, extinguished all the lights and strewn the floor with small objects in an attempt to let superior gryphon night vision give us an advantage and leave us able to hear their approach when they inevitably stepped on and broke mugs, bowls, and chairs. A few sentries had also laid down explosive gems and set them to trigger on contact in hopes they might catch a few enemy soldiers in their snares.
But the ponies were smarter than that; we heard reports passed by simple note that they had reached the first inner antechamber. They masked their entrance with smoke and unicorn soldiers launching in magical strobe flares to light up the large room and disorient defenders, followed by the Black-suited Lances entering under their cover, clearing the upper offices of any potential ambush from above. I could imagine their frustration and confusion at finding nothing, perchance wondering where we were. Unicorn auras clearing paths through the debris, they then turned their attention on the inward corridors, positioning clouds and firing lighting into them to blast any defenders hiding inside to no avail, as they were now a bend or two back—the earth gryphon talons had done so on their own at the first sound of thunder; a simple sense of survival told them not to expose themselves.
“The dogs report they will reach their goals in two minutes, my lord,” Centurion Traal, commander of the headquarters security detachment, whispered in Gaius’ ear after receiving a Talon-delivered message from another runner. “And as they have suffered casualties of their own, they demand the chance to repay the ponies themselves.”
“Excellent,” he said, scrawling a quick message in reply. “Tell them they may, but only on my orders. Remind them they are not to break through until they receive my signal, or we will miss our chance to trap them.” He passed the message to the sky gryphon runner, who hurried back down the hallway, taking a circuitous route to reach the goal. No sooner had he left than there was the sound of renewed battle as the ponies encountered the first Talon soldiers guarding inner corridors. Thunder and flash gems went off but no explosive ones as perchance the ponies were worried about bringing the tunnels down.
We, however, had no such concerns as the Talons fired explosive-tipped crossbow bolts into the ceiling over their heads, trying to cave them in. The ponies reacted instantly to that; a unicorn placing a shield over the ceiling as the Lances retaliated with shock gems thrown at their feet, turning their own metal shields against them. They began to storm the tunnel, trying to reach the center of our underground base and Prelate Gaius himself. And ‘twas certain they were making progress thanks to the Lances and supporting troops, the former having taken the first two tunnel bends with the help of the latter whilst earth ponies and unicorns fanned out behind them, circling laterally along the second ring in an attempt to press us from multiple directions; we heard another panicked report of unicorns teleporting behind defenders to turn their defenses, sometimes in the presence of one or more Lances.
Gaius frowned at that, and so did I. “Teleportation requires the caster to have already visited where they are going, as they must be able to visualize their destination clearly,” he noted.
Livia hissed at that, brandishing her war mace. “For them to be able to do so means they had a spy down here!”
“Or perchance the EIS somehow captured and pulled the location and layout from the memories of an existing headquarters staff member,” I pointed out, grimly. “‘Twould also explain how they knew which buildings to strike at the surface. We can determine the source of the security breach later. But as to their unicorns, I believe we have countermeasures available to us…?” I glanced over at the Owl agents present, who had a small and isolated office in the complex. They were talking and muttering amongst themselves, no doubt sorely regretting the lack of the Ravens that normally defended them, clutching at their own hidden blades.
“‘Tis still only experimental, my lord,” the nearest Owl said in a trembling voice from under his cloak and hood, only deepening my contempt for them. They had not covered themselves in glory in recent days, but the efforts of their magical research division over the past several months had borne some interesting fruits. “‘Tis uncertain they will work!”
“Then ‘twould seem now is as good a time as any to test them. Give them to us,” Gaius instructed calmly, keeping the disdain out of his own voice as the senior agent gave him a magically sealed chest and the key to unlock it. Releasing the seal, he pulled it open to reveal a series of four gems.
“How long will their effects remain active?” Gaius asked him.
“For mere minutes only, my lord,” The Owl agent told him nervously. “Assuming they work at all.”
The Prelate actually chuckled at that. “Methinks such time will suffice. This battle will be over in mere minutes anyway,” he said calmly as two of the gems were rushed out to flanking forces, keeping one to ourselves as a fresh round of lightning booms sounded in another chamber. “We want them funneled here. And preferably confined to the one inner antechamber they already captured,” he added as he attached the hilts of his battle axes together to form a single long bladed staff, one he could whirl about with supreme skill.
“They are here for me, so I will be the bait that draws them in. We will be the anvil, and you, my friend, must be the hammer,” he nodded to me, passing me the final gem. “Take two sky gryphon decades and go with the Diamond Dogs to over the captured inner chamber. Wait for my signal and when the time comes, seal their exits, deny them their magic and cut them down without mercy. Methinks ‘tis time to put your new repeating crossbow to the test.” He grinned at me.
“My pleasure,” I grinned back, taking it off its harness and loading one of its barrel drums. An experimental minotaur-made weapon they were not yet able to produce in large numbers, I had already tried it on the firing range. Its bolts were small and range limited, but at close quarters its explosive-tipped bolts were lethal to packed-in troops.
But we were given no chance as suddenly there was a bright flash in front of us to reveal… a cloaked unicorn mare with two black-suited figures, wingblades brandished. The unicorn mare flashed a strobe light at us from her horn, causing us to look quickly away whilst the Lances tossed flash and thunder gems as an additional measure to disorient us. They had the drop on us… until Livia Cassius Junius charged them with her war mace and slammed it down into their midst.
She missed them all to little surprise as they leapt away, but they were disoriented as well by their sudden arrival, still trying to get their bearings after teleporting into unfamiliar surroundings, and from what we had read, teleportation tended to be very disorienting on those who were taken in one anyway.
The end of her massive Paladin weapon was charged with magic, which its impact released in a concussive wave that knocked them all off their hooves and halfway across the room. Even the Lances could not immediately regain their bearings from such a blow and died in a hail of crossbow bolts along with the unicorn from my weapon; I didn’t need much accuracy to cut them down at such short range.
“Test successful, my lord,” I told him dryly as Gaius activated the fourth and final gem, which began to pulse as he stuck it to a nearby wall.
“So I see,” he replied with a grin. “Excellent reflexes, my friend. And I believe we will have to place additional orders with the Minotaurs now.”
Livia sneered at that. “Wouldst it kill you to thank me as well, Prelate?” she asked him. “I just saved your life!”
“Hardly. They teleported in blindly and were easy prey. Pity. Methinks I would have enjoyed the chance to slay them myself,” Gaius replied evenly, not above tweaking her even then. “The gem is now active, meaning we have but minutes to act. Now go, Tribune!” he ordered me, and I instantly obeyed, taking two decades with me, as directed. I arrived with them at our destination in under a minute to find the Diamond Dogs impatiently awaiting orders, wearing improvised leather armor and some rough-hewn blades.
“We are ready!” one of them said, motioning to the partially-dug out rock in front of him, his teeth bared in a half-snarl smile. “Let us strike!”
“You will wait until ordered,” I reminded him in some annoyance, “or you will lose the chance for revenge!” Though they’d been instrumental in the Prelate’s invasion plans, digging us the tunnels that enabled us to mass our forces right under the pony noses, my opinion of the dogs remained low, as their external loyalties tended to belong to the highest bidder. But their internal ones were another matter; their pack loyalty was very strong, including their instincts to protect each other and avenge their fallen members. And as the ponies had already slain a dozen or more of them, I had no doubt they would happily fight them.
The wait was nonetheless interminable, knowing the clock was ticking. A series of crashing rumbles were then heard as other dog teams collapsed several side tunnels as per the first part of the Prelate’s plan, hemming the ponies in. That would not deny teleportation except for the fact that we also activated the gems right over those areas, suppressing most spellcasting. The gems were another Rose Ruby variant, these specially treated by Magus to hold and release a magical suppression field that normally could only be directly cast by the Magus themselves. They were not as powerful, long-lasting or as wide-ranging as the Magus spells they were based on, but for our purposes, ‘twas certain they would do the job.
“Tribune! Now!” Gaius called over the scrying network, having no need of codes or secrecy. I nodded to the dogs, who simply used their own earth magic to punch through the ceiling of the antechamber we were over, finding fifty ponies inside, packed tightly in their standard diamond-shaped squad formations up against the inner doorways, earth ponies on the periphery and a single squad of unicorns in the middle.
‘Twas the second part of the Prelate’s plan; he had not only deliberately ordered the large antechambers evacuated despite the fact they were defensible from above, but let the ponies hear his orders, making them think we were abandoning them in favor of tunnel defense. ‘Twas an excellent piece of misdirection on his part, and the ponies paid an immediate price as myself and the three decades of gryphons and Diamond Dogs following me flew in or dropped to the floor, raining down rocks and crossbow bolts onto their heads…
Followed by the final gem, right into the middle of the room, preventing unicorn teleportation and anything more than a direct levitation spell. Its range was about eighty paces, which covered the entire antechamber; we dropped a dozen ponies quickly before their unicorns could turn their longbows on us, at which point the sky gryphons were scattering to the previously cleared upper floor offices and began raining death on them in the form of armor-piercing and explosive crossbow bolts from the high ground above. ‘Twas not my style to strike from distance, however, so I joined the burly Diamond Dogs on the floor, my blades flashing out. I heard shocked yells in Equish and pleas for help as I began carving a path through their army troops, my blades slicing through armor and equine bodies with ease, dropping nearly a dozen more in seconds.
Unicorn auras tugged at me, attempting to pin me in place when all other spellcasting was lost to their owners, but my onyx armor deflected their efforts. Longbows and crossbows were trained on me but I kept them at bay simply by keeping the ponies at close quarters, tossing bodies in every direction, the sky gryphons above taking advantage of the distraction to target and kill unicorns first with their anti-aura bolts. The dogs made a glorious mess of things as well whilst pony attention was on me, favoring blunt instruments and clubs, and within seconds we had slain half the ponies in the room with others falling back into it from the side corridors and counterattacks out of the ceilings via dog-dug tunnels.
The apparent pony commander, an orange-furred pegasus stallion with lieutenant’s bars on his borrowed black bodysuit, shouted orders and storm clouds were trained on me. Recognizing the danger, I took flight and evasive action as a series of wide-angle bolts erupted from two clouds, trying to catch me in their snare. Their ‘scattershot’ bolts were not as powerful but were impossible to dodge, and I felt the electric currents play over me, threatening to knock me from the sky as they took out the bulk of the charging Diamond Dogs at once. But through sheer will and enchanted armor I remained airborne and elusive, waiting for the partially paralyzing currents to stop, then leveled my repeating crossbow and launched a stream of bolts from it, aiming at the gunners.
A unicorn tried to erect a shield but couldn’t thanks to the gem and several more pegasus ponies went down. But others took over and began firing single bolts at me as the Talons in the upstairs offices burst forth at my own orders, charging downwards with blades and bows leveled. They launched a volley at the storm teams, forcing them to dive away, at which point I leapt into their midst, preventing their clouds from being used again.
Earth ponies attacked me next, but their strength was no match for my speed or Talaeus blades. I slew another six quickly, forcing the rest to snipe at me with crossbow bolts and spears whilst simultaneously avoiding the sky gryphons overhead, who swooped and struck suddenly. The bolts I dodged; the spears I plucked right out of the air and threw two back, impaling their owners—some Talaeus thought it beneath them to attempt to wield pony weapons, but I was not one of them.
‘Twas then that two things happened at once—the ponies brought their final reserves into play from one end of the antechamber, Guardsponies included, and the Prelate’s earth gryphon group broke in from the other, having defeated the initial attack on him, the Prelate himself in the lead. I still marveled that he was willing to expose himself like that, but his double-ended axe staff whirled in rapid arcs around him, making him almost impossible to approach despite the weapons trained on him whilst the earth gryphon Talons in turn engaged the earth ponies and mostly-powerless unicorn soldiers with some success.
A Corps pegasus swooped in and was caught by an axe blade and slammed to the ground. An earth pony Army mare attacked him, blade in mouth after firing a crossbow, which he simply dodged with a single wingbeat, using a rapid mid-air tumble to slay her from above and when several charged him at once, he separated his axes and whirled through them with ease, reading movements and deflecting blows, his counterattacks always finding their marks and striking down multiple ponies in rapid succession; even demonstrating he could strike at distance by slaying a unicorn aiming a longbow at him with a thrown axe.
In contrast, Primarch Cassius was a raging minotaur bull, using her size and strength and blows from her war mace to clear the room, focusing her efforts on the three Guardsponies present. She’d taken several hits from the crossbow bolts but simply refused to go down, a by-product of her potion-infused body and great strength to say nothing of single-minded determination. She was completely unimaginative and one-dimensional in her combat style, relying on her sheer size and striking power above all else, which nonetheless was effective in the close confines and chaotic nature of the fighting as the two sides clashed throughout the antechamber; the ponies no longer able to bring their storm clouds to bear.
As time passed, our ability to fly and ranged attacks were giving us the definite advantage even as the effects of the gems wore off and unicorn magic came back into play for the few that were left, having been rightly targeted by the Talons whilst their powers were limited. We began to clear them and push them back down the way they came, clearing the outer corridors of them… until the ponies brought a second Lance squad into the fight, their skill and prepackaged sorcery turning the tide again.
We retreated back into the tunnels between the inner and outer rings in their face, but this time, I stayed in front as the first Lance rounded the corner and beheld me. I could not see her face, but by the movement of her muscles, her eyes went wide underneath her mask as she beheld my Talaeus armor and red-striped black coat. I can only assume she recognized me as not just as a Red Talon but the Red Talon commander, meaning Prelate Gaius had to be close by…
But first she had to get through me. There was a sharp movement and a blade flashed out; a lethal stiletto launched directly at my face. I saw its path clearly and shifted fractionally to let it glance off my helm. There was some kind of electrical spell attached as I felt a static charge, but the shock ‘twas intended to deliver was not transmitted through my onyx armor as it might have been through a metal one.
She next attacked with wingblades, but I parried the blows easily despite her speed and skill, using my strength and rapid reflexes to slam her into a wall, and then the floor. Her compatriots leveled miniature crossbows, but I simply tucked my head to let my armor accept their strikes, rolled forward and burst right through the shock gems they threw. They likewise failed to penetrate my armor, and I then engaged the two Lances blade-to-blade, slaying one, than the other as they simply had no freedom to maneuver in the narrow space. I, however, was more than used to it, having grown up an orphan in the back alleys of Loondon and learned to fight gangs of older gryphons in them.
‘Twas then that the door slammed shut on them as the remaining dogs collapsed their escape tunnel, hemming them in. Realizing they were trapped and their only way out was through us, they fought desperately but futilely as we closed in and broke into the outer antechamber, slaying their far more scattered forces and closing in on their commander, defended by a few more army troops and two surviving Lances as he was. He fought savagely with his wingblades, taking on an entire decade and slaying two Talons in aerial combat, but was finally overwhelmed and knocked from the air.
In one final gambit, a unicorn bearing a blade spotted Gaius and attempted to teleport in from the shadows, but Gaius somehow sensed it and when she rematerialized, the Prelate’s axe head was in her chest, causing her to stare in horror at it, and then crumple. After that, the remaining ponies fell easily, and within a minute, they were defeated. Picking his way through their bodies, Gaius found the wounded pony commander.
“First Lieutenant Sundiver, I presume?” Gaius addressed him in Equish. The orange-furred pegasus was coughing up blood, his wing broken and his chest gashed by a sword strike. My commander had an assortment of minor injuries of his own, mostly cuts and bruises accompanying one deeper slash on his foreleg, though with my attention only occasionally on him, I didn’t see him suffer most of them. “Former commander of Outpost Epsilon and Chief Training Officer of Outpost Gamma? My sincerest compliments, First Lieutenant. ‘Twas an excellent attempt and with only slightly better luck, ‘twould likely have worked. You planned and led this operation well.”
“Not… well… enough…” he got out, trying to rise but unable to do so. “Just… kill… me…” he begged.
“No,” Gaius said, holding up a paw to restrain his forces, who looked only too eager to do so in the face of the sneak attack and the losses they had suffered. “The battle is over, and I do not wish to slay such a worthy adversary. On my honor, you and your surviving forces will be accorded respect and held prisoner for the duration of the conflict. We will treat your wounds and see that you are held in comfort. You and your force fought magnificently, but your war has ended, First Lieutenant. Live with honor,” he said, saluting him to my great surprise.
I said nothing, but Livia Junius Cassius was not so restrained. “Sparing enemy soldiers who meant to slay every last one of us? Methinks you are far too soft, Prelate!” she sneered despite her own wounds, blood dripping off her flank onto the floor from an embedded crossbow bolt she still hadn’t removed from her side.
“We are gryphons, Primarch!” he retorted, allowing anger to leak into his voice. “You may report this to the Empress if you wish, but I will not rescind my offer! ‘Tis tradition that we respect and honor worthy foes, and so we will here!” he told her and everyone within earshot with finality, then switched over to the scrying network so his voice would be heard everywhere.
“Hear me, fellow warriors! This day is OURS! On my orders, Equestrian survivors are to be offered honor and taken prisoner—they may NOT be slain!” he directed us all. “Treat the wounded and clear a path to the surface, so we may get healer teams down here and reestablish our chain of command as quickly as possible. The battle is won, so let us be certain the WAR is yet, as well!” he told us, to which another cheer went up, his surviving soldiers treating him with not just respect, but outright reverence as well.
I could not help but smile at that. They knew my skill, but they had not known his, and word of his exploits would soon be spread throughout the Gryphon military.
Before, they had been willing to serve him. Now, they would be willing to die for him… as I already was.
As you say… well-thought and well-fought, Ambassador. Sundiver was an excellent trainer and tactician, I knew from my time under him at Epsilon, and ‘twas with great sorrow I learned he was lost that day, not knowing he yet lived. It pleases me to know that the Prelate did show him honor, as well as to all those ponies who fought and lived that day.
Such things were not always possible, particularly on our side in the initial months of the war. Victory allows for such luxuries as prisoners, but defeat and retreat does not, and thoughts of honor would soon fade from both sides as the conflict wore on and atrocities mounted. But at least here and now, ‘twas offered and accepted, and both it and the superb strategy the Prelate thought of when the Gamma garrison stormed his bunker is to his credit.
In this chapter, one raid was successful, another a failure, but both are case studies in surprise strikes and the risk-vs-reward calculation of military operations. Had the Epsilon operation failed, my base would have been lost but in the grand scheme of the war would have meant little; ‘twould have been barely a footnote in the first day battle results. But had Sundiver’s strike succeeded, methinks the entire course of the war would have been altered in favor of Equestria, depriving the invasion of its architect and the Empire of their finest military mind.
There are countless what-ifs in warfare, but I would never say the operation was not worth trying, even if it only had a two percent chance of succeeding instead of the twenty percent I give it now. The potential payoff was enormous, and I admire Sirocco and Sundiver immensely for having not only attempted it, but having nearly pulled it off.
Only the dead have seen the end of war. —Plato
