//------------------------------//
// Rolling Thunder 
// Story: Strange Bedfellows 
// by BRBrony9 
//------------------------------//

It was a mountain, but not like any of the others of the northern extremities in which it lay, nor of those in the central Foal Mountain chain. This one was a volcano, a towering cone of pumice and ash, surrounded by lesser peaks, snow crowning its summit despite the heat that bubbled within. It was located in the northwest of the continent, in a sub-chain of the Hyperborean Mountains where the Griffon Kingdom lay, a long way from the major cities of Equestria.

A spectroscopic analysis of the stratovolcano revealed that the volcano appeared to be active, releasing notable quantities of sulfur dioxide, carbon monoxide and dioxide, and hydrogen sulfide, into the atmosphere. A fire burned within, magma bubbling away deep below the surface. Vid-picts from orbit showed the bubbling lava filling the crater, a vision of the gates of hell. Steep rocky slopes lead up to the crater, littered with boulders and steaming fumaroles. 

The Auspex scans had revealed openings, partially hidden tunnels in the volcano's lower flanks. The Lord-Admiral's attention had been called to them, as there was a possibility they might represent entrances to the Changeling Hive. But the location seemed highly unlikely- inside a volcano? It was more likely the tunnels were natural lava ducts or merely small caverns. There was no way to tell from orbit, but there were similar tunnels just about visible in the neighbouring lower peak, separated by a curving saddle from the volcano itself. Could it be evidence of the Changeling presence?

It would be a smart location for a Hive if it was. The ponies would surely dare not to investigate inside a volcano; far too dangerous. Though the Changelings were cold-blooded creatures, the heat from the volcano would hide any possible trace of their activities from thermal scans, as well as the emissions of various gases and extreme thermal radiation interfering with sensors- something the Changelings might know if they had been able to extract information from those they had captured or replaced. 

'Can we initiate a scan with ground-penetrating Auspex?' Marcos questioned the junior officer manning the console, who shook his head.

'No, My Lord. The concentration of magma and various trace elements is interfering with the system. We cannot scan beneath the volcano. From orbit there is no way of telling if those tunnels are natural or artificially constructed.'

'Can you scan for the unknown particle?' the Admiral suggested. 'If their Queen is there and there is a large concentration of the lesser creatures, there should be high readings of the particle being emitted.'

'I'm afraid not, My Lord. The same problems are masking any evidence of the unknown particle. If there was a concentration above the surface, we could detect it, but if they are underground...'

'Very clever...' Marcos muttered. 'The perfect place to hide, not just from the ponies, but from us as well. But we need confirmation. Perhaps the Princess can identify the tunnels if they match the characteristics of a Hive. Put a call in to her, have her visit Commissar Birbeck's headquarters. Send the vid-scans to his console, and she can examine them for herself.' The vox-officer nodded and made the call.

'Would an orbital strike be effective?' Marcos questioned his science officer.

'Yes, My Lord, it would, but it would be too effective,' the Lieutenant replied. 'The crust here is thick due to the mountainous upthrust, but there is a direct opening to the mantle below. If we carry out a strike at this precise location, it could have the same effect as a much larger-scale bombardment. Hitting the volcano hard enough to destroy a subterranean Hive would begin to disrupt the mantle beneath. It might lead to the destabilisation of the entire tectonic plate. Most, if not all, of the main continent lies upon that plate, My Lord.'

Marcos frowned. Destabilising the continental shelf would render Equestria uninhabitable, both breaking his promise to the Princess and ruining its status as a garden world should he change his mind or should the Imperium claim the planet in the future. Fighting to purge the planet of the taint of Chaos only to turn it into a scarred wasteland of magma and newly-formed canyons was not a good solution to the Changeling problem.  

'My Lord, I have contacted the Princess,' the vox-officer spoke. 'She will head to Commissar Birbeck's headquarters. She should be...' he paused. 'Uh...My Lord, she is...already there,' he added, with a bemused look. 

Marcos was not surprised, as he knew from the field reports that she could teleport seemingly as she pleased. 'My Lord, this is Commissar Birbeck,' came the new voice over the vox. 'I have the Xenos Princess with me. Give us a moment to look through the vid-scans you sent.'

'Understood, Commissar,' Marcos replied. 'Your Highness, we wish to know if, in your opinion, these tunnels that will be highlighted on the images you are seeing could be evidence of a Changeling Hive, or if they appear to be natural. Your expertise on the geometry and geology of Changeling Hives is far superior to ours.'

A few moments passed before Celestia replied. 'It would appear that these may be entrances to a Hive, Admiral. But I cannot be sure from these images.' She paused for a moment. 'I would suggest that you allow me to send a scouting party to the location. They can make the determination far more easily from the ground, as well as search for evidence of Changeling activity. They are more familiar with such matters than you or your men.'

'Very well,' Marcos agreed, seeing no harm in having confirmation from the relative experts. 'If it is confirmed to be the Changeling Hive, then it seems we will be unable to strike it from orbit due to potential...complications regarding the seismic stability of the tectonic plate upon which your nation sits. My science and weapons officers will conduct further study as to whether a lower yield could achieve the desired results without causing lasting harm.'

'There is no need for undue haste, Admiral,' Celestia replied. 'If it is the Hive we seek, it will not be going anywhere in the interim. Allow my scouts to establish beyond doubt its true nature. Do not attack the target without my permission, Admiral.'

Marcos frowned, flustered. He was not used to being ordered about, certainly not by a Xenos. Yet there was something commanding in her voice, even as she maintained her usual calm demeanour over the vox. Far from an arrogant tone, it was one of effortless power, as if she knew she would be obeyed and thus had no need to raise her voice or stiffen her words like a Commissar or Imperial officer might. Marcos couldn't help but feel that waiting for her permission was somehow the right thing to do, even though it was just a volcano, and even though it was the Changeling enemy that they were both now fighting.

'Very well, Your Highness. We will wait for your scouts to confirm the presence of a Hive before we engage,' Marcos replied.

'It is possible also that these tunnels could be part of a dragon lair,' Celestia added. 'One of my scout airships reported coming under attack by three dragons of unusual size, not normally seen in these more southerly areas.'

'Dragons?' Marcos blinked, though nothing about this planet really surprised him anymore. No doubt just some local name for a large flying reptilian species of some kind rather than the creatures of ancient Terran myth. Another strange coincidence, similarities between these two disparate cultures, originating across the galaxy from each other; language, military rank structure, and now this.

'Dragons, yes,' Celestia continued. 'Large and ferocious creatures capable of breathing fire and possessing immense physical strength. It is possible they could have been driven from their lair by the Changelings and forced to flee south in search of a new home. If that is the case then this volcano could potentially be the location of the Hive.'

'No doubt your scouts will be able to determine the truth of the matter,' Marcos replied. 'Let me know as soon as you have evidence one way or another. Marcos out.' With the vox-call ended, the Lord-Admiral could return to his musings and deliberations. Regardless of what may or may not be under the volcano, they had a battle to win and a town to take.




The tanks of the 2nd Stourmont Armoured Regiment sat idling in great columns, engines ticking over as they waited for orders. Captain Mayner and Big Beautiful Doll formed the point of a V-formation, consisting of the surviving tanks of the 1st Company, with several replacements from the reserves. The Vanquisher tank herself had been repaired after taking damage outside Manehattan, getting priority service for repairs because of its rare nature compared to the tanks of the line that vastly outnumbered its kind in Imperial service.

The driver, Barnes, had been buried with great reverence by the crew of Big Beautiful Doll, laid to rest in a simple ceremony out on the plains near where he had died. War held little time for sentimentality, but the dead had to be disposed of, and Stourmont practice was, whenever possible, tank crew or infantry squad members were buried by their fellows, rather than an impersonal graves registration detail. The ancient funeral rights of their home planet were carried out, a simple anointing of the body with sacred oils passed around by the Regiment's priests and confessors who wandered the field after a battle on errands of spiritual mercy. Prayers to the Emperor, a simple covering for his face so that he may see no more suffering, a six-foot hole, and that was the end of another of Stourmont's faithful sons.

A replacement had been sent from the Regimental reserve; Dinnis, a young man, eager, fresh-faced, a typical recruit it seemed at first glance. But Dinnis was a veteran of some five years, and was a driver without a crew, being the sole able-bodied survivor of a 'brew up' that had turned his tank into an inferno and killed the gunner, commander and loader while badly burning the two sponson gunners. Big Beautiful Doll had a full crew again, and was ready for battle.

Mayner stood in his turret hatch, eyeing over the lines of tanks around him. Behind them were the Mechanised, Chimeras loaded with infantry and ready to press on to their new objective. They were to drive for Ponyville, and then Mayner and the rest of the 1st Battalion would break off, accompanied by a battalion of the Mechanised, to drive for the Hoofer Dam to the west of the town. The remainder of the Regiments would strike swiftly at the town to capture it.

The 2nd Armoured had taken heavy losses during the charge for Manehattan, but this time the planners were confident there was no huge enemy armoured force tucked away in Ponyville, as there had been there. No room to hide so many vehicles, was the assured comment. Ponyville was a much smaller town, and a lot of it appeared burned out from the previous fighting. No doubt there would be surprises within, but nothing on the scale of the thousand-strong armoured counterattack that had so caught them off guard on the plains.

Mayner checked his wrist chronometer. A quick comm check revealed the crew was ready; Cheyne, Janssen, Welks, Farber, Dinnis. Not long now.

As if on cue, a thunderous roar erupted to the rear. Mayner glanced back as a loud swoosh passed overhead, like the passage of a great cargo maglev, drowning out the whine from a hundred idling turbine engines. Mayner strained his eyes ahead to see the impacts of the shells in the distance, a string of puffs like mushrooms sprouting after a spring rain rising on the horizon. The artillery fired again, and another great crescendo of noise hurled itself overhead, through the sky, descending upon the town like rolling thunder. Again and again the mighty cannons roared, and the order came through the vox to advance.

'Driver, forward, half speed!' Mayner commanded. Dinnis obeyed, revving the engine and shifting the hefty bulk of the Vanquisher forward with spurts of dark exhaust fumes from its twin smoke stacks. The rest of the company did the same at Mayner's order, and the battle line of the Stourmont 2nd Armoured began to roll.

Marauder bombers swooped overhead, above the din of battle and above the trajectories of the shells that were raining down on Ponyville. Canopies glinting in the sunlight, they disgorged cargoes of high-explosive bombs upon their targets, known enemy strongpoints in the defences. Spotters and observers on the walltops of Canterlot had a grandstand view; Celestia and her sister were among them, watching fountains of dust and dirt by the dozen spring up throughout Ponyville. The tanks began to roll as the aerial assault was scheduled to hit the dam, before the main thrust reached the town.

Right on time, the dropships appeared, a small swarm of them out of the west, leapfrogging over the peaks that towered above the dam and descending rapidly, braking jets flaring at the last possible moment. There was no warning of their approach, no time for enemy Auspex to detect them or for anti-air to engage them. Down they came, men dropping from ropes as door gunners engaged targets below. The enemy scrambled for cover, scattering under this new threat from an unexpected direction, turning their attentions away from the approach road up which the tank column would advance.

The tanks rolled, the Chimeras behind them. They were not the only units assigned to the assault; both had taken losses in Manehattan, and so the 20th Kharians had been shuttled to the surface, a Mechanised Regiment from a planet with a supergiant sun, where dark-skinned men and women toiled day and night to make vital ammunition for the Imperium.  The 6th Manrovian Armoured were in support, holding down the eastern side of the push, while the remainder of the 40th Parvian Lancers took their place in the centre. Valkyries and Lightnings circled overhead for air cover as the artillery continued to strike hard at the town.

The bombardment abruptly stopped, and after a few moments, it restarted, but this time targeted just ahead of the advancing tanks. The creeping barrage steadily swept the plains clean ahead of the attacking forces, pounding the dirt in the hopes of pulverising any hidden spider holes or bunkers, and of setting off potential minefields. The tanks kept on under the umbrella of protection. The land was mostly flat, with some rises and small hillocks here and there, nothing to impede the progress of the armoured thrust.

A couple of outlying posts put up minor resistance, but were quickly swept aside by the lead units. Ponyville was still several miles ahead, with the river curving around it that would prevent the tanks driving straight into the town square. Once they reached Ponyville, the infantry would have to carry the day themselves, supported by the tanks from outside. Not an ideal situation, but the bridges across the river had already been destroyed by the Imperial forces who had tried to defend the city during the initial invasion, and had not been rebuilt by the occupiers. 

Mayner had the tank buttoned up, all hatches closed and the chemical protection system pressurised. The guns were ready, Cheyne, Welks and Farber scanning for targets. Mayner peered through his thermoscope. Nothing ahead except the erupting bursts of the friendly covering artillery. They raced on across the flat ground, toward the target.

A missile lanced out from some hidden foxhole, striking a nearby Leman Russ. The tank shrugged it off and continued on, cannon blazing in reply. No more missiles flew from that location. The town itself would obviously be the focus of resistance, however, and as the Stourmont and the Manrovians drew closer, lascannons flashed from hidden positions, destroying several tanks. Shells whistled in as return fire, while the artillery, having finally reached the town and pounded across its width, ceased fire as the tanks and carriers swept on, to avoid friendly fire.

Shots rang out from pillboxes that had escaped the air raids and artillery. Several tanks fell foul of mines that had avoided destruction, prompting warnings to the rest of the attacking force. Pinpoint battle cannon shells smashed the flimsy timber framed pillboxes that offered resistance, and the tanks continued on, the carrier following behind at a safe distance.

1st Company were approaching their jump-off point for the push on the dam. Up ahead lay a road, perpendicular to their current direction, that led up to the huge structure in the foothills of the western side of the valley. Mayner spotted it drawing closer and got on the vox.

'Cobalt Alpha One to all Alpha One vehicles, approaching turnoff. Standby...break!' 

The tanks pivoted as one, turning from Ponyville and setting their sights on the dam, nestled in the hills. That was their target. The vehicles moved to maintain a V formation, with the Vanquisher in the lead. The rest of the 1st Battalion followed suit, along with the Chimeras and support vehicles of the 3rd Battalion, 9th Mechanised. The remaining forces continued to push for the town, taking increasing return fire as they drew closer to the river.

Mayner left them to it and focused on the road ahead. The paved track climbed away, starting shallow and increasing its gradient until it became a fairly steep climb. Nothing that Big Beautiful Doll would struggle with, however, the Leman Russ being adapted originally from an agricultural tractor, and designed with good ground clearance to help clear enemy trenches and be able to climb back up the far side. A short way up the track became narrow enough for only two tanks to travel abreast of each other, while farther along it narrowed still more. A column of tanks travelling slowly uphill would be a sitting duck for an enemy ambush, which was why they were relying on two elements; their close air cover from Valkyrie and Vulture gunships, and the lightning raid by air that was underway above them.




Sergeant Argan's booted feet pounded down the rear ramp of the Chimera. Scattered gunfire could be heard from up ahead; Ponyville. The Lancers were disembarking on the fields to the north of the town. In front of them, a metal wall formed of a dozen Leman Russ tanks held position at the edge of the river, cannons booming whenever the enemy showed their heads. One tank nearby was blazing merrily, having either struck a mine or been hit by enemy fire.

The rest of his squad followed him out of the Chimera, and he led them into a small defile nearby, shielded from the town. Argan peeked over the lip of the small rise. The town was on the other side of the river, low buildings, some already missing their upper stories or rooftops. He could see the shattered remnants of a stone bridge that crossed the river, the middle section completely missing, destroyed by Imperial explosives to try and limit the movements of the Archenemy during their invasion. Now it proved a hindrance to the Parvians and their armoured support.

The Chimeras backed away, having deployed their passengers. An occasional burst of multilaser fire whickered overhead from one of the fighting vehicles as it spotted some target of opportunity. Argan could see no enemy, but plenty of fellow Guardsmen finding what little cover was available, or merely lying on their bellies in the long grass. 

To the east, the 6th Manrovians were flanking around the town, following the curve of the river. There, too, the bridges were blown. There was no easy way across, and certainly no way to get vehicles into the town. Men could wade the river at its shallowest points, but would likely come under heavy fire to do so. Some, however, had to make the push.

'Covering fire!' Argan shouted, seeing the unlucky platoons moving forward, those selected to try the river crossing. The river was not particularly wide, but the far bank was an open, gently rising slope that could be swept by fire from both flanks as well as straight ahead. The tanks lined up in front put a couple of cannon rounds into the river's edge in an attempt to set off any anti-personnel mines that may have been laid. Others fired smoke rounds onto the far bank, clouds of the stuff billowing up and obscuring vision. 

Argan and his squad joined in with the others in spraying las-rounds through the smoke in an effort to make the enemy keep their heads down. The platoons chosen to make the crossing and establish a bridgehead pushed forward, wading out into the stream. At the shallowest point, the water came up to their waists, and the men waded through, their lasguns raised above their heads to keep them dry. A mortar round landed in the water near them, and two men dropped face first into the river, their bodies floating away downstream. Covering fire whizzed above their heads as they made the crossing. A few men reached the far bank and threw themselves down into cover behind the small boulders and shrubs that were scattered across it. Several were able to lie flat in the small shell holes created by the tank shots that had probed for mines.

The rest of the men made it ashore, uniforms sodden, but guns dry. Only desultory return fire flashed through the smoke as the enemy gunners shot blind, just hoping to hit something on the other side. More mortar fire bracketed the crossing site, making Argan keep his head down. The men on the far bank started to move as the smoke was clearing, ducking into cover around the end of the bridge and the broken ruins of a building. They had attained a bridgehead, and that was what the armour had been waiting for.

From the rear, a Trojan support vehicle roared up, tracks clanking. This particular vehicle had been outfitted as a bridgelayer, with a large concertinaed metal construction upon its roof. It drove quickly to the approach to the destroyed bridge, as the tanks popped more smoke across the bank to mask its operation. The Trojan halted at the bridge, and the contraption on its roof began to unfold, extending out and forming a simple but strong span across the gap, twin metal tracks that could carry the weight of a Leman Russ with ease. A few stray shots pinged off of its frontal armour and the unfolding bridge, but it was able to carry out its mission essentially unopposed. 

While the bridgelayer was in operation, more men were wading across the river to support the first wave. Soon, it would be Gamma Company's turn to get wet. With the bridge reserved for vehicles, the men of the Guard would have to wade their way into the town. Argan had his men check their equipment, make sure any vulnerable gear was in their webbing or upper pockets and not in their lower halves. As the first tank rolled over the bridge, it was their turn to cross.

Argan led the men down to the river, the other squads and platoons of Gamma Company around them. Over they went, with sporadic mortar fire falling around them, but every man made the crossing without injury. They fell into cover behind the nearest building. Lieutenant Albrecht ordered 1st Platoon to set off to the east to join up with Delta Company who had made the crossing in the second wave. They moved through the narrow alleys of the old town, seeing Delta Company across the way. 

Before they could cross the street and link up, hasty gestures from the men of Delta Company told them to halt; just in time, as heavy fire suddenly pattered on the cobbles, kicking up dust and blowing small chunks from the street. Argan brought his men up short, staying in cover in the alleyway. He risked a brief peek around the corner. A building at the end of the street seemed to be well occupied by the enemy, with gunfire flashing from several windows and the main entrance. 

'We've got air support on the way!' the Lieutenant of Delta Company's 2nd Platoon called across the street to Argan. 'Just stay down!'

Argan nodded, keeping his men in cover as the whine of turbine engines drew nearer and got louder. A thunderous crash resounded from around the corner, followed by a dark silhouette passing overhead above the alleyway, either a Valkyrie or a Vulture. Argan took another peek at the street. The building that had been an enemy strongpoint was shouded in a heavy cloud of dust and smoke. A pinpoint strike seemed to have done the trick, and the order came to push forward in conjunction with Delta Company. Argan led the way out into the street, accompanied by several squads from Delta, guns sweeping the road ahead as they approached the thick cloud of dust. It blocked all vision of the destroyed building. They had no idea what might lie beyond, but they pushed on anyway, into the smoke.




Big Beautiful Doll led the way up the increasingly steep slope. The rest of 1st Company fell into line behind them, churning up the paved road with their treads; the access path to the dam was not meant to support the bulk of a Leman Russ, let alone a dozen of them. Chimeras from the 9th Mechanised followed on, then the rest of the 1st Battalion's tanks bringing up the rear. The dam itself loomed ahead, off to their left. The track wound its way up the hillside just to the north of the huge structure, leading to the plateau beside it where the main utility buildings and transmission towers were located. Their mission was not so much to capture the dam- that was the job of the airborne assault forces- but rather to link up the main thrust with the dam and make sure there was a solid line of defence connecting it to the town.

The aerial attack and landing had taken the enemy by surprise, and fierce fighting was raging at close quarters. Men were engaging in hand-to-hand combat, bayonets and knives atop the dam. Others were fighting through the transformer yards and maintenance buildings, trying to drive the enemy out into the open so the Valkyries or the arriving tanks could deal with them. The whole vast complexity of the dam's internal structure would have to be searched and cleared before it could be deemed secure; potentially miles of passageways, tunnels, maintenance ducts, huge turbine halls, spillways and vents. It would be like searching the Underhive on some vast and bloated Imperial hab-world; dark, tedious and dangerous. Mayner did not envy the men and women who would be chosen for such a detail. Who knew what surprises the Archenemy would have lying in wait for them inside?

The tanks pressed on, but not everything would be quite as simple as it had been hoped. From among the boulders and crags of the hills above them, a rocket lanced down, riding a fiery trail. Mayner shouted a warning as it struck the turret glacis plate, either a bad miscalculation or simply being fired by a user who did not know the specifics of tank armour and was unaware that he should be targeting the roof of the turret or the engine deck when firing from on high. The Vanquisher's main gun could not traverse high enough to engage the target, but luckily tanks farther back in the line had seen the trajectory and traced it back to its origin. Several high-explosive rounds brought down a considerable torrent of earth and rock upon the firing position, crushing both the weapon and its operator. More men could be seen running and dodging between the boulders; evidently not all of the enemy had been distracted by the dropships.

Heavy bolters from the column and multilaser fire from the Chimeras peppered the hillside, cutting down several of the scurrying figures. Valkyries on overwatch above added their firepower to the mix when able, though focused mainly on supporting the air landing operation. More dropships were sweeping in, a second wave coming over the mountaintops and dropping down low, looking for clear ground to disgorge their cargo. The Chimeras had no such dilemma, able to open their ramps at any time. They did so, allowing their on board infantry to move ahead of the tanks for protection. Several squads were sent to clear the hillside where the missile launcher had been located.

Big Beautiful Doll was drawing level with the top of the dam now. A security gate barred their progress up ahead, but the tank just rammed straight through it. A couple of enemy soldiers sprinted across an open area ahead of the tank. 

'Sponsons, infantry, 12 o'clock, fire!' Mayner ordered. Both plasma cannons flashed and blew chunks out of the concrete apron, but they were not meant for killing infantry and the men escaped their shots. They did not, however, escape the heavy bolters of the following tank, Armageddon Time, which was able to pull abreast of Big Beautiful Doll as the track widened. They were at the edge of the dam complex now, a chain-link fence and another barrier ahead of them. The two tanks took the fence together, smashing the barrier and pushing into the chain link. The fence bent like paper, tearing from its moorings and being flattened beneath the tracks of the two Leman Russes.

Mayner looked through his thermoscope. A battle was raging ahead. He could see Guardsmen in cover and returning fire. Some lay dead. The Archenemy was everywhere, men running to and fro, trying to form new defensive positions against the unexpected attack from the air, and now, to add to their confusion, Imperial tanks were at the gates, the threat they had initially planned against, arriving too late to be effectively countered when they had moved to defend against the airborne raid.

A string of explosions rattled Big Beautiful Doll. Mayner scanned around with his thermoscope but could see nothing. There were more explosions, a ripple of detonations. Still he could see nothing that could be the cause.

'Sir!' came the urgent shout from Welks, the port sponson gunner. 'The dam!'

Mayner ordered the turret rotated to the left so he could get a better look. What he saw was the last thing he wanted to see.

The front of the dam, smooth ferrocrete, it looked like, was cracking. Great webs of cuts and cracks were forming, even as he watched. More explosions echoed from the hills and peaks above them, vibrating the tank, and more cracks appeared. Trickles of water were flowing through several of them. Mayner grabbed the vox handset to shout a warning.

The cracks grew and grew, with more water seeping through, first a trickle, then a gush, then a torrent. In several places the lake being held back by the dam broke through. Another string of explosions, now sickeningly evident to be coming from demolition charges, rang out, and the dam could take no more. With a mighty groan, the huge structure gave out, slabs of concrete cracking and breaking loose as a flood of water burst through the dam face. Men atop the dam ran for their lives, friend and foe alike, fleeing for the safety of the earth rather than the danger of the artificial structure. The sound of the water became a roar, audible even inside the tank with its engine running. The more of the dam face that was damaged, the more the remainder became undermined and weakened, and within moments the entire dam had collapsed, the debris carried away in a deluge as the lake, held back for so long by the ingenuity of the local pony engineers, was finally released in all its sound and fury, billions of gallons of water flowing straight down the river valley beneath the remains of the giant structure. It raced over rocks, carrying boulders and trees effortlessly with it. Farther down the gulley the approach road for the dam was undermined, and two of the rearguard tanks found themselves tipping inexorably as the track washed away beneath them. Over they went, cast away in the flow. The torrent of water, now mixed with tons of debris and detritus, roared down the gulley, following the course of the river, with only one possible destination.