//------------------------------// // Chapter Sixteen: Peace and Preparations // Story: The World is my Sandbox // by PoniesMine //------------------------------// "Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.” ―Sun Tzu, The Art of War —— Chapter Sixteen: Peace and Preparations —— Most people are afraid of needles. *Squish* What they don’t realise is that everything has their uses. *Sluuuuuurp* Including needles. *Pop* With the metallic point drawn from the black insectoid body, now withholding the essential DNA essence to locate, and apprehend to the dark energy signature of this particular species. The relatively small cylinder holding this fluid, the thick black blood slowly swished around as the vibrations procured from my operating body provides the necessary kinetic energy to do so. A griffon soldier standing perpendicular to me, enquires a relatively simple question, “I assume that doing…this has some sort of purpose?” “Of course it does,” I remove a small grey rectangular device from my saddlebag and place it on the ground in front of me, “It's going to locate the thieves for us.” I use my right forehoof to slide out the small cylinder from the needle, and slowly nurture it into one of the slots on the tracker, almost immediately, the box lit up in a series of blinking, and bright colours, then, a loud suction noise could be discerned as the locator draws in the insectoid DNA. Everything was silent for these few moments, no one spoke, and the griffons believed the atmosphere became somewhat tense, but that is utter nonsense, the only reason for this, however, is because their superior was intensely staring at a weird, box, thingy, for what seems for a few, strangely long minutes. But in actual fact, it was more like 5 seconds. Once this relatively short time period was up, the box literally detonated in a massive blue explosion, easily covering all of the creatures in the surrounding area. This deeply frightened the neighbouring griffons, as for one, they weren’t expecting a frickn’ eruption, and two, what scared them to an even higher degree, was that their higher ranking superior, wasn’t even twitching a single muscle, as if she was expecting that particular event to occur. Which evidently, she was. Soon enough, this was over, and the soldiers decided to uncover their eyes and gaze around at the encompassing environment, examining for anything that may have altered, or damaged the adjacent domain. Without even revolving around, Sergeant Discharge decided it was in her best opinion to warn them of another possible scare, “You may want to cover your eyes for the next bit.” Of course, the griffons listened to her suggestions, not only is she their senior but the fact she is clearly in control of the weird box thingy in front of her. What’s strange, however, is that she is still in the process of staring at tensely at it. Not a moment too soon, another explosion takes place, but this time, however, is an implosion, the transparent blue energy is sucked like a willing vortex, directly into the box, disappearing as if nothing ever happened in the first place. “Well, that was certainly interesting,” I am, of course, not referring to the contraption in front of me, but the griffons’ reactions to the device. It’s always quite fun to watch to expressions of primitive species as they observe futuristic technology and knowledge. Finally, after several painful seconds, the green light ultimately lights up, signifying that the process of tracking the location of the unknown species is now complete. Modern-day phased dark energy ray radar systems can do wonders when attempting to locate someone, or something anywhere on an entire planet. I reach into my saddlebags, and retrieve another device, a small (15cm x 15cm) plastic screen, immediately, several red dots appear on the smooth surface, followed by the view of a map of the entire world’s landmass. At that particular moment, the griffon soldier mentioned earlier decided it was in his best interest to gaze over my shoulder, and ask me a question regarding the electronic screen I’m withholding, “Um, ma’am, what are all those, bright red circle things?” “They are,” I reply, “what we are exactly looking for.” This seemed to puzzle the griffon, “You mean…the bug things?” “Yes,” I stated, “exactly.” He squints his eyes at the device, “but that would mean some of them are located no more than 10 kilometres away.” “Precisely, I suppose we should pay them a little ‘visit’.”    “Nein! I am never going to allow that!” Two important figures stand facing each other from opposite sides of a relatively long table, their nation’s relative flag positioned on the wall behind each, signifying whose interests they are best attempting to presume towards. Both, currently, were in the process of discussing significant details which potentially could benefit both sides ambiguously. ‘But of course,’ Princess Celestia thought, ‘she just rejects everything I say.’ Twelve soldiers, of both sides, were glaring intently at one another, even if one pony decides to scratch their ass, another soldier would respond kindly, by positioning their weapons at them. They’re were two types; one was wearing imperatively strong imported steel amour, while the other, gloriously bright, polished gold. So you can imagine the overwhelmingly, tense atmosphere surrounding the two occupants in the centre.    “I will only accept complete independence from all foreign powers, which in actuality, includes restrictions. I am not going to accept outrageous demands to diminish the military masculinity of our country! We have a right, as a nation to defend ourselves! And your, “ she spat, “not going to take that away from us!”    Several Germane soldiers in the surrounding room cheered at that response, Aryane Hoofler seemed to puff our her chest, proud, and even become somewhat bright at that moment. This, of course, seemed to make the Equestrian soldiers glare even harder, particularly at the enemy’s leader. Princess Celestia rubs her brow thoroughly, attempting to reduce the painful headache fluctuating throughout her mindset. ‘If I could just get one thing right today,’ she thought, ‘I call this whole meeting an overall success.’ “You must understand Mrs Hoofler,” Princess Celestia confidently states, “your military has already killed over 1000 of my guards, I at least, expect some compensations to the families’ lost ones.” Aryanne Hoofler simply raises an eyebrow, “That is how war functions,” she informed, “When people sign up to be apart of the military, they’re and their families, are essentially agreeing to the possibility of passing away, it is literally their obligation, their duty, to sacrifice themselves so others don’t have to.” Celestia couldn’t procure a counterargument. “I’ve made my country’s intentions, and desires abundantly clear,” Aryanne states, now seizing hold of this discussion, “Perhaps you should listen to them.” “We desire; Full unconditional independence, not a puppet, or vassal state,“ she lists, “30 billion bits as reparations for our diseased industry, all Equestrians escorted from our domain, closed borders, reacquisition of the German-speaking province of; Allice Lopain, Sudaten Lands and Denzig. And finally, access to Equestrian territory to jaunt to separate alternative nations, like for diplomatic missions or trading.” She intently stares at Princess Celestia, “these terms are non-negotiable.”       ‘Honestly,’ Hoofler thought, ‘they’re actually not, the bits and extra territory would be an added bonus, it’s always nice to have a few extra bargaining chips.’       Celestia returns her gaze to peer at the offending peace terms document in front of her, the only wording on the page, despite being in this meeting room for over half an hour, only had one line of words, a sentence, and that was the title; ‘Treaty of Germaney, 989’ Everything so far hasn’t at all, worked in her favour, only once has she been in a peace conference, and that was more ‘I’m getting exactly what I want because the other side can’t do anything about it’, sort of thing, and furthermore, as an added bonus, that was over 1000 years ago. To put it simply, Celestia clearly has no experience in this sector. Despite all of this, an idea suddenly hit her, and idea, so great, it could possibly secure the safety of her nation, for a very, very long time. “I will agree to those terms only,” she puts-forth,” if we incorporate a non-aggression pack for the next 100 years.” ‘If she happens to break the treaty, other nations would in likelihood form a collation, it’s a win-win situation.’ Ayranne’s facade distorts into an expression of ‘you got to be fucking kidding me,’ the circumstances have now deviated from her favour. ‘If I refuse,’ she thought, ‘It’ll look like I’m preparing for war, which is a fact I'd prefer to hide. She knows I won’t be able to prolong the current conflict going on, we simply don’t have the supplies to last a sufficient degree.’ Her face continues to hold a face of deep thought for several more seconds, she is, after all, making quite a large decision, mind you, that will affect the entirety of her country. Until finally, she removes herself from the dreamscape, “Ja, those terms are acceptable.” “Then it’s decided,” Princess Celestia waved over a scribe, “In return for providing reputations, and Germane territory, we will remain peaceful with one another for the next few generations.” The mentioned transcriber—A green mare with purple highlights— ferociously jots down the desired terms and conditions. During this time period, nobody spoke, not a single soul. The atmosphere only in composed the frantic, and irregular sound of a quill squabbling on a parchment of paper. It was a little awkward.     Until eventually, the noise stopped and was replaced by the sound of magic ignition, an elevation spell, as Princess Celestia floated the agreement over to her to double check all of the terms are correct. Inclined to desire this meeting to be over as quickly as possible, Celestia proofers a quick skim read over the document. After around 20 seconds, she takes the fancy quill to the right of her, and gracefully signs the document using her signature. She proceeds to pass to over (through magic) to the opposite Germane mare. ‘Stupid,’ Aryanne thought, ‘Attempting to intimidate and prove dominance over me with your magic? How pathetic.’ Germaney's Führer remained confident and perceived an expression of hard calculation as she took the parchment of paper from Celestia’s grasp with her powerful hooves. She then proceeds to read the whole document, line by line, VERY carefully, so cautiously in fact that she managed to read every word over three times. Let’s just say, not only is she purposely attempting to assert HER dominance, but the document could have contained some sort of loophole or an extra demand without her knowledge. Equestrians, after all, are slippery, silly creatures, who are unpredictable, and would want nothing more than to stab you in the back in the most ambiguous of circumstances. Aryanne however, after ten minutes of consistent reading, never found anything that would be considered ‘fishy.’ She too signed it with her fancy, and illustrious signature.   “Thank you for your gracious endeavours,” Princes Celestia illustrates, “Perhaps we could meet again in better circumstances.” Aryanne Hoolfer stands, “Agreed.”   Both parties exit, the atmosphere cleared of stress and anxiety, now with a forecast of a clear sky, and partly cloudy. Well, that is, until next Tuesday, rain after all, always eventually occurs. A small spiderweb of cracks persists with spreading in all directions over the statue, one could say the statue is very fragile. Just a single tap would cause the whole thing to collapse in a mound of fine stone powder, and salt.   Major General Shrewd Preparation is a very smart griffon, very, very smart, despite being out of the military academy less than four weeks ago. The only reason he was assigned as commander of this beautiful, 2nd Musket Division, was due to passing a written test with flying colours, in it, his purpose was to procure tactical strategies involving scenarios with the new weapon, muskets. Preparation has always loved ranged weapons, the fact they can practically disable an enemy, before dealing any damage to your own, just seems to draw him in. Every tactical principle of his involves some sort of ranged concept, so it’s not a surprise when given a test—completely based on these the entire concept of ranged weaponry— passes without much difficulty. Also, there wasn’t really any other potential candidates for the position he is currently occupying, he was the only who passed the test with significant results anyway. What has this particular griffon really excited nevertheless, is that the brand, spanking new, flintlock muskets have recently arrived to replace a portion (six hundred) of his soldiers’ flintlock systematic firearms. They’re faster reload and the ‘punch’ gives him the ability to draft new concepts on the battlefield, addressing to attain use of these aspects to the largest of aspects.   The sky during this time period was murky grey, with a touch of sunshine radiating through the clouds. It was forecasted to rain for several days straight in a near couple of hours. During this interval, Major Shrewd Preparation was located in his command tent, writing down, and drawing up these possible plans, that is, until he is interrupted by one of his subordinates, Lieutenant General Flick Kick, by walking through the flap tent entrance. He moves to stand directly in front of the ‘planning table’, his face stoic, withholding the position of a solute for an undetermined amount of time. The Major preforms a quick glance up, only to gaze back at his plans when he exactly discerns who it is. Without even looking up from the bench, he speaks, “At ease Lieutenant, what do you want?” He visually relaxes. “Several scouts have reported a moderately equipped army one day to the North-West from here, coming in our direction, size is estimated at around 12,000.” That got his attention. Major Preparation turns his perception to gaze at his fellow lower-ranking military general, “What? Did I hear you just say, TWELVE THOUSAND!!??” “Yes,” he straightforwardly said, “They’re approaching from the east, most likely attempting to cut off the rest of our army, we, after all, are located several hundred kilometres behind the front, it’s lucky we needed to stop for resupplies.”      Shrewd rubs his brow exceedingly, all the while muttering incomprehensibly under his breath, “Shit, shit, shit….”   “Sir, if I may,” this brought the Major out of his mindless shitstorm, “We shouldn’t get our feathers twisted about this, the muskets should easily be able to take them out, not to mention with your brilliant planning, it’s practically a win handed over to us.” “I’m going to have to disagree with you Lieutenant,” Preparation declares, “12,000 is an awful lot, even with muskets. Each soldier would have to get out at least six rounds to even make the number of shots equal to the enemy’s number, not to mention other variables. No more then half of these shots will actually find a target, and the enemy’s amour will even diminish this number further.” He paused as if he is coming up with a solution. “We need defences, lots of them,” he pronounces, “we need more ammo, more soldiers, more guns, and more support, frankly, we’re under-equipped  to be able to deal with a situation like this.” General-Lieutenant still stood there, the only difference between now, and 30 seconds ago is that is facade currently withholds a slight amount of worry and doubt, but still confident. Confidence, that as long as they have a will, there will always be a way. “Send a message to the rest of the army, all divisions,” he announces, “Tell them, ‘Immediately retreat 100km inland, the enemy is attempting to cut us off from the west by sending over a twelve thousand strong army. It’s in likelihood that we will lose sections of the Western front. Regard this message until further notice.’ ”   He performs a quick solute, and sprints out of the tent. Major General Shrewd Preparation gazes back at his tactical plans, concepts that he had always hoped to use, but not to this extensive of a degree, these may determine the fate of the entire army, particularly if not correctly constructed, it’s important that he gets every single segment correct to the hundredth of a decimal place. Everything will have to run perfectly, not a single thing can go wrong, that is if he desires to thrash back the enemy push.     Character Sheet: