Greetings once again to all my little ponies and friends of the Equestrian nation alike. I take up the pen briefly in this new chapter at the request of Captain Firefly, to detail events and actions taking place in Canterlot on the second day of war.
I will attempt to keep my words here brief, as I do not wish them to overshadow the difficulties my beleaguered subjects and soldiers faced that day, but I do feel that I at least owe readers a window into my own thoughts and strategies at that point in time.
Signed,
—Celestia Daybringer
Princess of the Sun
Diarch of Equestria
Canterlot
High Council Chambers
Canterlot Castle
September 2nd, 1139 AC
0645 hours
‘Twas not long after dawn on September 2nd when the hastily drafted Equestrian Declaration of War was presented before me. It had already been signed by the assembled representatives of all three Pony tribes, and now the only signature it awaited was my own.
Calling the Equestrian High Council into session that chaotic first night of war had not been easy, of course. Not everypony was available, given more than a few councilponies had been slain by assassins or otherwise trapped outside of Canterlot by the dragon siege, but enough were present to reach a quorum and formally ratify the war declaration. In the end, it passed nearly unanimously with little debate, with all signatories approaching the laid-out document to sign it under the masked and watchful eyes of the PSD.
The only dissenting voice belonged to a unicorn noble who counseled negotiation and ‘careful consideration’ of gryphon grievances over an ‘ill-thought rush to war’, perchance not understanding that we were already at war and that the only negotiations the gryphons would engage in were for our terms of surrender.
Never mind the fact that the dragon clan circling our city outside had already sworn Canterlot’s destruction. Never mind the fact that, as I knew from bitter experience from dealing with Dragon Lord Kalator himself, they could not be trusted to keep any deal.
I gave a brief speech in my battle armor before the High Council flanked by my Celestial Guardsponies, whose earth pony commander, First Lieutenant Sabre Slash, had been wounded in the initial wave of assassination attempts. But to his credit, he still donned his armor and limped to his post at my side. Methinks what I said in my speech was standard boilerplate—we will not lose; we will not relent—intended for public consumption. But I kept it brief, knowing that the dirty business of fighting and winning the war required careful planning and a restored chain of command.
A day after the initial word of the Imperial attack, we had a much fuller picture of the extent of the gryphon operations, leaving it clear that we could not easily stop them. Not with nearly a fourth of our prewar combat power lost on the first day of war from the crushing of the border defenses. Not with at least fourteen identified legions surging into Equestrian territory with an unknown number yet to be committed to the fight.
Methinks the only good news we had at that point—I would not receive word of Epsilon’s successful extraction for some time—was that Gamma was holding and tying up considerable numbers of troops, whilst their northernmost legion had, according to EIS communications intercepts, been wrecked by Epsilon’s stubborn defense, preventing them from fully turning our defenses. The south was the biggest point of worry, with the well-led gryphons there having already overrun an alarming two hundred miles of territory, pushing all the way up to the edge of Thestral lands.
Their intentions past that became far less clear, however. It seemed unlikely they would wish to antagonize the bat-ponies, whose entry into the war could more than make good our losses and make any Imperial attempt to push past the Applelachians that marked their borders a bloody and brutal affair. But ‘twas uncertain the gryphons knew that, though ‘twas also uncertain what they planned to do about them, given they seemed to have planned for everything else.
‘Tis certain the nightmare scenario we faced in the early days of war was that they somehow co-opted the thestrals, perchance with an offer of independence or simple vengeance, leaving us to fight a two-front war with limited forces and no easy way to hold off either enemy without losing against the other.
As we adjusted to our predicament and our menacing new neighbors—who made no attempt to breach my shield but remained poised over the approaches to our great city, frequently flying overhead to remind us of their presence and intent with drawn out roars that carried across the mountains—‘twas all I could do to maintain order and prevent panic.
Particularly as anypony attempting to leave the city by ground were instantly incinerated once outside the shield; we lost at least one major noble that way as he offered up a chest of gems for his safe passage only to be laughed at and immolated, and his gems taken anyway.
Oddly enough, for reasons we did not yet understand, they were allowing ponies to enter the city but not exit, and only after stripping them of all their valuables and supplies. Outlying farms and villages were likewise spared destruction, but their residents were ordered to abandon them and flee to Canterlot or face immediate death.
We knew not what that meant or why they were doing it, but ‘twas certain it boded ill. ‘Twas a terrible time regardless, and ‘twould be a lie to say I was not worried, calculating my power reserves carefully and already making contingency plans in the event I was incapacitated by being cut off from sunlight. But never once did I believe the situation was irretrievable, nor that the dragons or gryphon invasion could not be countered.
Over the course of that day, our initial war plans were finalized, and the following General Orders were disseminated with the help of Coral Torch’s hippogriff-lent communications:
* * * * *
Celestial General Order #2943
FOR IMMEDIATE ISSUE
September 2nd, 1139 ACTo the officers and soldiers of the Equestrian Armed Forces:
Methinks I need not tell you that we have been invaded by the Gryphon Empire and are now at war. This much is known. What is not known is that we face perchance the most dire threat in our nation’s long history, exceeding even that of The Nightmare or King Sombra himself.
Gryphon numbers are vast and, taken by surprise, we have little hope of stopping them in the short term. Accordingly, we must adopt a strategy of denial and delay, trading space for time as we attempt to overextend them and slowly bleed them dry.
Fully realized, our nation’s military capacity can equal or even exceed the gryphons. But ‘twill take considerable time to reach such a state, and thus, we must hold them off long enough to fully mobilize. Accordingly, the following war policies are now in effect:
- All Weather Control is suspended over greater Equestria except for particularly severe storms. All female weather team members will report to Corps recruitment offices for military service to await conscription and assignment to Corps storm teams.
- All existing civilian cloud stores are now reserved for military use. We will have to rely on the slow reestablishment of natural continental weather patterns to provide our farms the rainfall they need.
- We will practice a policy of scorched earth to deny the gryphons supplies. All crops, factories and bases that cannot be evacuated before the gryphon advance reaches them are to be destroyed to deny their use to the enemy. All roads and possible avenues of advance are to be rendered impassable. They may fly, but their supply trains and siege engines still require ground transport.
- Universal conscription is declared for all able-bodied mares ages seventeen to forty. Only nursing or infirm mothers are excused, as well as herds with non-adult foals having only one mare left. Titles of nobility will not be accepted for deferral. And given the threat we face, I must reluctantly order that desertion be punished by death.
- All ponies who have served in the Army or Aerial Corps in the past twenty years are to be returned to active duty immediately, excepting the circumstances above.
- Stallion volunteers for combat duty will be accepted, but for now, they are excused from active duty and requested to report to farms and factories further back from the front to support the war effort.
- We require allies in our fight. Accordingly, I will be dispatching representatives to old friends and enemies alike in hopes of enlisting their aid. This includes diplomatic missions to Thestralslovakia and other, more distant realms.
The following instructions are issued to individual service branches and adjuncts, which are in keeping with the guidance of the Winter Contingency plan for all-out war with the Empire:
- The Equestrian Army is the key to our strategy of denial and delay. Lacking sufficient strength, they are not to challenge gryphon legions directly for now, but instead, pounce on overextended or isolated units and avoid encirclement; ensure that the gryphons cannot advance swiftly.
- Tis certain that a fighting withdrawal is the most difficult of military endeavors, but it must now be performed by the Equestrian Army with the goal of preserving as much military strength as possible whilst slowly bleeding the gryphons and forcing them to overextend themselves.
- Corps tactics will likewise be one of harassment and ambush, utilizing hit-and-fly tactics that avoid general engagement until such point as our numbers can challenge theirs.
- The arms factories of Stalliongrad are to shift into full wartime production as per existing contingency plans, with an emphasis on heavy weapons and naval rearmament.
- Royal Navy Expansion is to begin immediately. Keels for six new capital airships of the Harmony and Unity classes are to be laid at the Stalliongrad shipyards, and become the core of new naval battle groups. Accordingly, the as-yet untouched Capricorn Base at Stalliongrad is to become the main naval training and construction complex whilst lesser shipyards will design and build escorts of the proposed Duty II and Sentry classes.
- The Equestrian Aerial Corps is to establish two additional training bases and begin mass training of pegasi, with the intention of doubling the size of the Corps from fifteen thousand soldiers to thirty within six months. If Cloudsdale has indeed been attacked, methinks there will be no shortage of volunteers.
- The EIS, Black Lances and PSD are to come up with plans to organize resistance operations in occupied territory, as well as secure our own against Knight and Raven raids.
- The Office of Magical Research is directed to speed research into new weapons, with an emphasis on anti-dragon arms and elemental magicks. If we can lift the siege of Canterlot, I can directly intervene in this conflict, but until the dragons are driven off, I cannot assist our forces or Canterlot falls and all within will perish.
- The Royal Guard will relocate its training base from Fort Spur to western Equestria and begin training stallions and mares alike. Existing Guardsponies will be used sparingly until the time is right.
- All earth pony militia are folded into the Equestrian Army. Once contact is reestablished, the Cloudsdale militia is to be folded into the Aerial Corps.
These were general orders for the individual services. What follows is my own personal guidance for the conduct of the campaign:
- We will NOT throw raw recruits or untrained civilians into combat! If we do, they will be slaughtered by well-trained gryphon soldiers at great cost to our numbers and morale alike.
- Our initial losses will be replenished by stripping the northern, southern, and western frontiers of Equestrian Army and Aerial Corps troops as much as possible. If this means that we must temporarily cede territory to the Maregolians or the Harpies, then so be it.
- Our first wave of mobilization will be from returning retired veterans to active duty. Our second will be from training up Earth Pony and Pegasi militia. Our third will be from conscripts once they have completed basic training at Aerial Corps and Army bases. ‘Tis my hope that the first two combined with redeployment of existing forces will buy enough for the third.
- Outpost Gamma is to hold out and tie up as many gryphon troops for as long as they can. I take no pleasure in this order, and am only too aware I am sentencing them to death. I will honor and mourn them. But to buy precious time, I must order their sacrifice.
These are my orders. For the sake of our survival as a nation, I expect them to be carried out faithfully and promptly. ‘Tis clear to me now that we cannot win a short war, only a long one. Therefore, we must ready ourselves to do so whilst steeling both our spines and our spirit for the hard road ahead.
We will stand. We will fight. We will prevail.
Signed,
—Princess Celestia Daybringer
This document was not for public consumption—methinks ‘twas far too frank an assessment for that—but only to be passed among the service heads and those they deemed had a need to know it. I suspected it would eventually end up in gryphon talons—‘twas certain, after all, that they still had mind-controlled agents watching us—but it mattered little.
What did matter was recovering from the shock of the initial attack, reestablishing our chain of command and beginning the bloody work of grinding the gryphon war machine to a halt.
Not all my instructions would end up being carried out, either from simple necessity or due to gryphon military prowess. But methinks it at least gave us a starting point for our resistance and the difficult road ahead.
—Princess Celestia
Thank you as always for your time and well-written entries, Princess. ‘Twas you who convinced me to write this account of the war, and yet ‘tis you who makes it complete and fills in the blanks we could otherwise not know.
But ‘tis not your general orders for the war that hold my attention now. For I write this entry following the first day of classes for the Equestrian Officer Academy’s fall session, and already I find myself lost in thought.
The foiled coup attempt, the news of which has now spread across both nations, was a huge topic of discussion of my officer candidates, both pony and gryphon alike—of which my first-year class has seven of the latter as part of the ongoing exchange program between our respective militaries.
At one point, the uncomfortable question was posed by the former to the latter—what would they have done if the coup attempt succeeded and the Empire was restored?
—Captain Firefly
Bolt Knight Captain Emeritus
Military History and Tactics Instructor
Equestrian Officer Academy
Canterlot
‘Twas a very difficult question for them to answer, as many of them had friends and family here, and had come to admire and respect Equestria in ways their forebears never did. One said that he would not have believed the Empire’s explanation of events; that ponies were capable of such severe treachery, and thus refused to return, even at the cost of dishonor and disgrace.
Another explained though honor would require them to obey orders and return, the Empire was not honorable and she could not, in good conscience, serve it. A third said that he would indeed return home—to fight the reborn Empire before it plunged them into another ruinous era of endless war.
This in turn led to a spirited discussion of what honor actually was, and what use ‘twas in wartime. I shared some of my own experiences of honor, both offered and denied, and then brought up the difficult dilemma that Imperial forces faced against Epsilon.
I reminded my students again of how the gryphon offer of honor had in fact been taken advantage of by my forces, seizing upon both the midnight surrender deadline and Centurion Nael’s offer of an honor duel, using them to buy ourselves the time we needed to make our superstorm and then escape.
‘Twas an interesting talk, and before long, I’d thrown away my class lesson plan for the day and instead let my students debate. In the end, with some fairly intractable disagreements presenting themselves, I assigned an exercise for my class: take the role of the two sides that first night of war in the lead up to the midnight battle at Epsilon, with a twist:
I ordered the ponies to command the gryphon side and the gryphons to command the pony one, and to come up with strategies they considered both effective and ‘honorable’ given the following objectives—force the outpost’s surrender or otherwise take Epsilon down quickly and cheaply for the gryphon side, whilst the pony side was given the outpost’s standing orders in the event of invasion: hold out for as long as possible and inflict as many losses as they could.
As the plans were made and dice were rolled to simulate the randomness of war, calculating casualties as well as the success or failure of individual engagements, it quickly became apparent that the objectives—and how the two sides defined honor for them—could not but clash. And thus, no matter who was victorious—‘tis worth noting that we ran the battle simulations five times using various schemes and strategies both sides offered, and Epsilon escaped annihilation only once—one side would believe the other acted dishonorably or outright committed an atrocity when all was said and done.
‘Twas a sobering experience, and as class ended, I left my subdued students with the following assignment: write an essay of how they individually defined honor, and what it would require them to do should they be issued orders they find dishonorable.
‘Tis an exercise I must now apply to myself, as I suddenly recall an instance where neither I nor the Equestrian side acted honorably by the standards of either race. Our reasons at the time seemed sound if not entirely comfortable, but looking back now, a grave injustice was done and continues to be done by covering up the true events. A difficult decision lies ahead for me, but whilst I ponder it, the story of the war continues.
Methinks I know of what events you speak, Captain, and ‘tis certain I do not envy you this dilemma. Just know that whatever you decide, I will back you and serve any role in its revealing that you wish.
Greetings once again to all readers. ‘Tis Commodore Shady speaking again. With the coup attempt thwarted and both the Queen and Admiral safe, ‘tis time I continue the tale in lieu of Admiral Tailwind, who remains bedridden and very frustrated, though at least he finally has his daughter at his side.
For those who are interested, a proper duel between the Loyalty and Arnau did finally happen, with the battle perchance appropriately ending in a draw. Both ships were ruled to have sustained heavy damage and casualties but also to have remained flight and fightworthy, each unable to land a killing blow on the other.
Perchance symbolic, in the end, of the war between our races as a whole.
As the Arnau readies to depart with her escorts and Queen Jeyenne, and I make ready to return with the Loyalty to Capricorn base, leaving the Admiral to his ongoing recovery, I will detail the next stage of my ship’s role in the war, skipping ahead a day. For we had just received orders I feared would be both dangerous and difficult to carry out, though ‘twas not the gryphons that had me or the future Bolt Knight Captain worried.
‘Twas the prospective encounter with the fourth pony race, though both they and the other three would deny their inclusion in that membership at the time.
—Commodore Shady
Commander, Battle Group Capricorn
Royal Navy Base Capricorn
Stalliongrad
EAS Loyalty
Airspace over Northern Ohioat province
220 miles north-northwest of Lake Luna on the Thestralslovakian border
September 3rd, 1139 AC
1430 hours
‘Twas the middle of the following afternoon before the Loyalty finally lifted off from Royal Navy Base Ursa.
We had to wait until the base defenses were set and enough supplies were loaded, as the guns of the Loyalty and Vigil were the only real defense the base had until sufficient reinforcements were in place.
It took far longer than I would have liked. As promised, freshly mobilized troops in the form of an Army regiment and two battalions from the Aerial Corps 4th Division arrived during the night, followed swiftly by the promised thirty transports from Stalliongrad.
But they had flown all night to get there, leaving their soldiers and unicorn Airedales exhausted and transported workers scarcely less so, having been kept on alert and unable to sleep, fearing a gryphon nighttime raid on their barely-defended formation.
They were spared that, thankfully, though ‘twas certain they needed rest, and then to get sorted and organized before they could start into their appointed tasks—repairing the engines of the badly damaged Armistice and getting the Yoketown battleworthy in addition to resupplying the Loyalty. As a result, ‘twas not until nearly noon when our resupply effort began in earnest and our crystals recharged.
Once they were, we were to obey our orders and head south for the bat-pony lands, seeking the missing Cloudsdale whilst the war continued to rage to the east; the gryphons having only briefly paused from their first day efforts to reorganize before resuming their advance.
There was little we could do about them for now, as ‘twas certain their forces would be alert to our presence. We had been lucky once, but ‘twas certain that to attempt to engage them again ‘twould be suicide without sufficient escort and support.
Which was not to say that our new mission might be any less so. ‘Twould be a lie to say sailing for Thestralslovakia ‘twas a task I was relishing. In truth, methinks that in some ways, ‘twas even more dreaded for me than taking the battle group into action at Epsilon base.
At least with the gryphons, we knew they were our enemies and how they fought. But what did we truly know about the bat-ponies anymore? Very little, this long after the War of the Celestial Sisters. They kept mostly to themselves in the territory the Princess had ceded them, in her belief that ‘twas indeed their ancestral home and they were just as much the victim of The Nightmare as her lost sister.
Whether true or not, granting them their own land and lakewater ‘twas both a peace offering and a magnanimous gesture to a defeated foe. And ‘twould be a lie to say it had not worked—in return for autonomy and Cloudsdale filling their reservoirs yearly, they paid their taxes and kept watch over the wild lands of the Everfree for us, causing no internal troubles for the Equestrian nation.
This despite the belief of many that they would stab us in the back at the first opportunity. They hadn’t yet, but what if they had just been waiting for the right opportunity? And what, then, if the gryphons offered them that opportunity? Would both we and Cloudsdale then be walking into a trap? Would they deliver us and Cloudsdale to the gryphons on a platter, and then turn their own army—estimated by some to be twenty thousand strong—on Equestria, facing us with an unholy alliance we could not easily defeat?
I knew not, as I retired for the first time in two days the previous night, returning to my stateroom only to find myself lying in bed staring at the ceiling. In truth, I had only seen a bat-pony once to that point, not counting the eyes of Fell Flight, on an official visit to Canterlot that coincided with the Nightborne ambassador’s yearly visit.
She was presented at court during the Grand Galloping Gala—an affair that solidified my distaste for such ceremony and disdain for most of the noble class. Seeing webbed bat wings and orange cat eyes on a dark-furred pony body made me shiver as I was introduced to her, her attributes only accentuated by the lower light levels the Princess was keeping the ballroom at to be a good hostess.
If she detected my discomfort, she hid it well, instantly recognizing my service and rank. She noted further to my great surprise that the Navy had been the thestral service branch in days of yore, and many were the tales still told by Nightborne elders of the Royal Navy’s exploits before—and during—the Celestial War.
All this I recalled as I rested in my stateroom, or tried to, leaving Commander Tailwind in charge until I awoke. In truth, ‘tis certain I wasn’t sure I could sleep, but either through exhaustion or the same tea I ordered Firefly to drink, it finally came. By the time I arose again—methinks I was shocked to have slept for nearly thirteen hours and a little annoyed at not being rousted after a reasonable time—’twas early afternoon.
I reentered the bridge to find we were being readied for departure as the final supplies were loading, whilst Master Sergeant Firefly formally folded the remains of her battalion under our air wing. They were made an independent air group under her command, consisting of two separate platoons. I was fine with that as long as Phantom Flight was, but ‘twas certain I was less than happy about our orders—particularly the fact that the Vigil would not be accompanying us, as Port Admiral Ironclad wished her to remain at the base as cover.
Her master, Commander Copper Coin, was less than pleased, but methinks he was assuaged by the fact that his ship became the defacto flagship of the three-ship battle group there, thus making him acting Commodore, even if the other two ships were not combat worthy.
There was one minor surprise, however, before departure, though methinks I had no sense of how momentous and important ‘twould one day be. Though perchance you should be the one to detail this, Captain, as you knew them well before I did.
Perchance you are right, old friend. So whilst reading through the honor essays I received from my class, mayhap I will take a break from them and pen a brief passage.
—Firefly
‘Tis certain Captain Shady was not the only one who finally collapsed exhausted in bed when all was said and done.
Not long after Admiral Coral Torch ended communication, the mint tea Shady had requested for me arrived. She immediately ordered me to drink it, saying it would help me sleep. I protested mildly until she reminded me that I was currently under her command by virtue of my presence aboard her ship, and that I would be no good to anypony if I did not rest, offering me a bed in the more comfortable senior enlisted racks if I wished.
‘Twas then I relented and drank it, and I regret that I do not recall what happened after, save that I woke up on a cloud in the senior enlisted quarters much later. Methinks I wonder to this day if the tea had been magically spiked for how swiftly I fell asleep.
I awoke the next morning to the sound of naval reveille. It took me a moment to recall where I was and what had happened; I tried to rise only to fall back in my bunk. I thought to just close my eyes for a few moments more to gather myself only to open them again and find ‘twas mid-morning.
Wondering why I had not been rousted, I finally found enough strength and focus to rise; the stiffness of my muscles telling me how long I had slept and the rumble of my belly indicating how long since I had eaten.
Deciding my hunger had to be taken care of first following a check-in with father and Gavian, I found the latter, much to my surprise, helping my battalion train the Naval troops on the upper observation deck by doing what he’d always done for my soldiers—give them an actual gryphon foil who fought far better than the average Talon. He did so under the watchful eyes of a still-wounded Swift Strike and Private Mammatus, who later gave close-quarters blade and crossbow lessons she’d picked up in the PSD.
I was not reassured by the fact that the drills were with real blades, and that Gavian was even allowing their troops to try and target him with crossbows; ones that were firing some kind of dummy dart that left a colored streak on his feathers but did not harm him.
My own soldiers were trying out the wrist-mounted Naval crossbows as well to mixed results. The Corps had always disdained them, not just for their limited range and our (then) inability to reload them in battle, but for their violation of Corps combat doctrine—that having to alter flight to aim or launch them just made lightly-armored Corps soldiers more vulnerable when their lethality and survivability were based on speed, agility and constant maneuver.
But the Naval ones seemed to at least partially compensate for that with their admittedly impressive stopping power. I’d seen at least one squad-launched volley—or excuse me, ‘squadron’-launched—punch through even Fortis Knight armor during the cavern battle, and ‘twas certainly an excellent equalizer for their lower skill level in aerial fights. It also gave the clearly inferior Naval soldiers at least one point where they could boast superiority over our own, giving lessons on their use in return.
Regardless, with my body stiff and achy from extended sleep, to say nothing of the battering I had taken—methinks the Naval healers who had treated me were in disbelief that I was still alive after the Magus lightning strike!—I did not participate in the training beyond simply observing, surprised briefly by the “Attention on Deck!” call and salute from the Naval pegasi that greeted my appearance.
“As you were,” I told them, taking my place beside Swift Strike as Gavian continued to lecture the Naval troops about gryphon weaknesses in flight and armor, showing them by example what he could and could not do in comparison to pegasi.
“Commander,” my equally bleary-eyed Black Lance friend acknowledged me as he watched the drills and the remaining Loyalty crew worked around us. They were stowing supplies and tending damage to the ship; as I watched, a few small breaks in the rigging and tears in the dirigible balloons were patched by brave earth ponies and dockworker pegasi alike. “How are you?”
“Alive,” I told him, to which he could only smile and chuckle. “And how fare you, Sky Sergeant?”
“Alive... but embarrassed,” he replied to my surprise. “And very chagrined. For the longest time, I thought myself untouchable. I survived sixteen years and forty missions for the Lances without suffering more than a few scratches to the Ravens or any other gryphon soldiers.
“But then I suffered no less than three major hits during the Epsilon battles—and worse, one was to the Talons.” He shook his head as he displayed his bandaged wounds to me, which included not just a pair of deep slashes to his side and left foreleg, but a scorched and shrapnel-peppered left side of his face. “Methinks either they’re getting better, or I’m getting older.”
“And methinks you took on an entire army down there,” I reminded him. “Just surviving their onslaught was impressive enough.”
“For you as well, ma’am,” he rejoined with the barest hint of mirth. “To say nothing of Gavian. To see him now, methinks there is little more he can learn from me. My student is now a teacher.” He gestured to Gavian, his gaze once more focusing on my son. “In the space of but eight short months, he has truly come into his own as a warrior.” His tone turned wistful for a moment.
“‘Tis certain he would be delighted to hear that.” Methinks I was both gratified and troubled by the praise. The former was for simple pride in my son, whilst the latter was for what it would mean to him—would he now be fighting on the frontlines against his own race? What would that do to him? Or to me to see the gryphon I called my son risk his life like that? “And ‘tis to your great credit as well.”
“Excuse me. Commander?” A stallion’s voice with a mild Swheatish accent broke into our thoughts, calling to me from behind.
We turned in some surprise. I recognized the voice immediately, but I thought—or had assumed—he and his comrades had already left the ship. “Silver Seax”, I acknowledged the head of our now-former earth pony maintenance crew. He was with the surviving members of the group; their long blonde manes and beards looking a little out of place amongst all the military crew cuts.
“’Tis good to see you again and I am gratified to find you safe. You and your kin fought very well in the Epsilon battles, and be assured I will see that you are recognized and decorated for fighting at our side. I would be more than happy to recommend you all be given immediate ranks and station in the Equestrian Army if you wish.”
He bowed his head. “Thank you, ma’am. Though our efforts were not without loss.” Pain showed on his face for but a moment, his sentiments echoed by the solemn nods but mostly stoic expressions of his brothers.
I nodded solemnly myself. “I understand you lost three of your kindred in the Vault battles. I’m truly sorry,” I told them, bowing my head at the deaths of such fine and stalwart stallions. Our earth pony maintenance crew consisted of friends and siblings from three separate Swheatish families. They told me once they had volunteered for service in the desert frontier so they could get ‘as far away from the beasts and blizzards’ of their homeland as possible, finding the warmer and much more arid climate of the gryphon border to their liking.
“But they—and you—have my thanks for staying with us until the end,” I continued. “I heard from Swift Strike and Spear Sergeant Steelheart what you did. ‘Tis certain we could not have held the cavern during the midnight battle without you.”
“You flatter us, Ma’am,” he replied, sparing a glance at the sparring sessions between my soldiers and the naval troops, who were always coming out on the worst end of the exchanges—no surprise given their relative lack of training and the skill of my soldiers. “Be assured our brothers will be remembered and honored. But to help us do so, we have a request.”
“A request? What is it you wish of me?” I asked, reflecting on the time I had known them. They had originally been hired as civilian contractors following the Hearth’s Warming raider attack the previous year, assigned to Epsilon to rebuild and enlarge the base following the destructive—and very bloody—raid.
Though they kept to themselves at first, having never been around the military or so many pegasi before, they had gradually opened up and had been eventually accepted by my troops for their excellent work and surprising musical talents, which we had drawn upon during our farewell-to-arms party that was supposed to mark the breakup of our battalion just before the war started.
He looked back at his brothers before replying, receiving some nods from them. “We have been asked to leave the ship and join the civilian efforts below. But we do not wish to,” he told me. “We’ve been talking, ma’am, and we’ve decided that to honor the sacrifice of our brothers and do our duty to Equestria… we wish to stay here, on board the Loyalty.”
“I see…” I said cautiously, touched yet troubled by the gesture. They were excellent warriors and handiponies who were certainly good in a fight, as skilled with their axes as they were with their musical instruments and worker tools. But to risk even more of their males when they had already sacrificed so many…? “’Tis appreciated, but ‘tis not my choice to make, I’m afraid.”
He bowed his head again. “We are aware, Commander. But we would ask that you wouldst put in a good word for us with Captain Shady. Tell her we would volunteer to work down in engineering or in whatever capacity she deems proper. We learn quickly and this ship…” he looked around at the ongoing activity. “’Tis hard to explain, but we like it here. It simply feels to us that here—with all of you—is where we need to be.”
“I see…” I said again, though I really didn’t—earth ponies generally didn’t like flying, but these five wanted to stay here on a Naval vessel? “Then have you spoken to Flash Fix about working in engineering?”
To my surprise, they all gave knowing grins. “We have. And given we fixed his still, and perchance even improved his brew, methinks he will have no objection to our presence.”
“Methinks it also helped that we bested all his crew in repair drills and Flash Fix himself in axe throwing accuracy,” one of his brothers added with a smirk, pulling an axe to twirl it around his hoof.
I couldn’t help but smile as well as the swordplay increased behind me. I turned to see Gavian taking down an entire flight of naval pegasi in rapid succession, knocking them to the deck with the flat of his blade before lecturing them on what they did wrong, to the cheers and laughter of the Corps soldiers. “Very well, then. I will see what I can do. Ultimately, this is Captain Shady’s ship, but methinks I have no objection to your presence if ‘tis truly what you wish. Methinks I might like to hear some of your songs again, too. They were very rousing and an excellent boost to morale.”
“Perchance that could be arranged, ma’am.” Silver Seax grinned broadly. “’Tis certain we’ve been working on additional songs, including one inspired by the Epsilon defense. And ‘twill be our pleasure to present it when the time is right.”
That the time would come soon was perchance not much of a surprise, but ‘tis certain the service it provided in support of future war efforts was! I do not know if their songs were born of Harmony, but at times it certainly felt like it, given their surprising effects and how rousing to the spirit they oft were!
—Firefly
That they were, Captain. I admit I was dubious when you presented them to me, and in truth, ‘twas only Flash Fix who swayed me, saying that “any pony who can fix my still and improve me spirits is a pony worth keeping!”, adding that they’d indeed shown the ability to conduct repairs and pick up the shipcrafts they’d need quickly.
They were named civilian adjuncts of the crew and eventually given brevet naval ranks, though methinks I did insist that they cut their manes if they wished to stay aboard!
—Commodore Shady
A fine set of stallions indeed, Captain. I have yet to hear their music, though I am told by those gryphons who have that their ballads are very rousing to both the mind and spirit.
Greetings again to all pony and gryphon readers alike. This is Ambassador Kaval speaking now, taking some time to contribute a brief section of my own before I depart to see off Queen Jeyenne this evening. I admit I do not know of what you speak when you say that you once acted dishonorably by the standards of both sides, Captain, and I can only assume that the fact that you left it in your draft for me to read meant that you wished me to see it.
Be assured, you are many things to me, but ‘dishonorable’ is a label I would never attach to you or the Equestrian side in general. One of many reasons I eventually gave up the life of a soldier for that of a diplomat, seeking to atone for my own dishonorable acts during the war.
—Layan Kaval
Ambassador to Equestria
Gryphon Kingdom Consulate
Canterlot
7th Talon Legion Headquarters
Town Hall, Occupied Mareasses
200 miles inside Equestria and 35 miles east of Thestralslovakian border
September 3rd, 1540 hours
Twas only three days into the war, and our advance in multiple sectors was already severely disrupted.
The losses in the north and stalled campaign in the center due to the stubborn resistance of Outpost Gamma forced some hasty reorganization of the most battered of the lead legions, with two fresh ones being brought up quickly to take over the advance. The 5th and 16th legions had to be pulled back after losing a combined forty percent of their numbers, with their heavy losses suffered in consuming the first two lines of the pony defense.
The 5th’s losses were due to insufficient Knight support and savage resistance at Trottingham and the nearby Army bases, whilst the 16th’s were attributable to a ‘staggering level of idiocy and incompetence’ on the part of its commanders, to quote Prelate Gaius himself.
The south, as stated before, ‘twas another matter. Under the command of the cunning and aggressive Legate Romelus, The 6th and 7th legions had exceeded all expectations in their drive south and west, overrunning several major cities and penetrating nearly seventy leagues into pony territory. Their combined wave had rolled all the way up to the foot of the Applelachian mountains, thus presenting us with our first real dilemma: The bat-ponies that lived beyond the heights.
Chiefly, whether to engage them now, or later. And whether engaging them would mean diplomacy or warfare.
The question was weighing heavily on the Prelate’s mind as we paired his trip to the north with one to the south the following day, meeting Legate Romelus herself at her improvised headquarters at the Mareasses Town Hall.
When we arrived, we found her forces patrolling the streets whilst the remaining ponies huddled in fear inside their abodes, unseen except for a few furtive glances out windows. To her credit, she had taken the town swiftly and nearly intact; there was little to mark the change of ownership except a few shattered doors and windows plus a lightning scorch mark here and there.
Having crushed Fort Feathertop and destroyed the Corps battalion there, to say nothing of getting the town’s militia garrison to surrender without a fight to a simple show of force, she’d completely cowed the civilians and was meeting no resistance to her occupation—unlike our efforts further north, where the Prelate had ordered the raider leaders beheaded for exceeding orders and slaughtering civilians, directing they be publicly executed before the residents of Baltimare and Fillydelphia in hopes of quelling their anger.
It remained to be seen whether that would work, and ‘twould be several weeks before the ports would be cleared for use by our forces thanks to the overzealous raider efforts. And in a further complicating factor, there had been at least one zebra ship caught in the crossfire whilst docked offshore of Baltimare, with crew killed; ‘twas certain that word would get back to Zebrica and diplomatic protests would result.
Such matters would have to be dealt with later, however. Having defrocked one Legion commander, the Prelate wished to decorate another as well as discuss future operations with her. That the 7th Talon Legion had performed so well was a point of particular pride for Salvio Gaius, given that it had once been his legion during the war with the Elder Rams.
“Greetings, Prelate!” the sky gryphon named Urban Romelus exclaimed with both pride and affection as he entered, snapping him an immediate salute as an assembled turma from her century-sized headquarters security force stood at attention behind her. She had been the Prelate’s talon-picked successor for command of his old legion, and ‘twas no question she had done him proud.
“I hope this day finds you well. I have followed the news from other sectors with great interest, and should you wish my services on other fronts, be assured I can take command of them instantly,” she offered along with some tea and the town’s local cider, which I had already sampled and found far too weak.
“And ‘tis to your great credit, Legate. ‘Tis one of many things I wish to discuss with you,” the Prelate replied with a smile, returning the salute crisply. He next offered his successor a very warm and comradely clasp, to the scowling disapproval of the Primarch. “Your success here is beyond all measure and provides us with a unique opportunity. Though I feel I must offer you at least a slight rebuke for exceeding your objectives and passing out of communications range. Methinks you caused a great deal of consternation at headquarters, Legate.” He raised an eyeridge at her. “They took to calling you the Phantom Legion afterwards.”
Her grin only got broader. “I will pass that along to my forces! Methinks we will wear that title as a badge of honor, my lord!”
“As well they should. But having discharged that tiresome duty, there is more I wish you to wear now!” he said with a smile and nod to me.
I smiled in return, sitting back and unfurling a scroll. “Legate Romelus! For such superb service to the Empress, accomplishing a feat far exceeding even the grandest designs of our initial operations, you are recognized as a true warrior and commander! And thus, by order of the Prelate, you are hereby promoted… to sub-Consul!” I affixed her new cape and rank insignia as she stood at attention, trying not to beam as I stepped back and she received additional armor pieces from the Prelate’s other aides.
“You honor me, sir!” She saluted the Prelate again once they were affixed as well.
“‘Tis well earned,” the Prelate said with great warmth. “And with it, ‘tis now time to discuss your next assignment. Your achievements here have given us a unique opportunity as we sit on the cusp of the thestral lands. Methinks the question now is, how best to exploit it.” He went over to her map table, studying it carefully.
Her smile turned predatory. “Methinks you know exactly how to exploit it, Prelate! So what is there to discuss? We have a strong salient, so let us use it! As I now bear sufficient rank, give me the 6th and 12th legions in addition to the 7th! Let me drive west with them now!” Romelus eagerly offered.
“Directly into bat-pony lands?” the Prelate challenged with a raised eyeridge.
“Yes!” she exclaimed, then caught herself. “I am aware you seek their alliance, my lord, but given our successes here, why bother? Methinks we must fight them eventually, so why not now? My forces are flush with victory and stand both ready and eager to continue the advance!
“If successful, we can not only knock their entire race and nation out of the war, but turn the entire pony defense! We could conduct a grand encirclement, and trap the bulk of their forces to the east of the Lunar Sea!” She stabbed with a talon at the map, then made a sweeping motion from our current location to the north.
“Think of it, Prelate… we could not only knock the bat-ponies out of the war before they can truly enter it, but pocket all the Equestrian forward forces, turning their own prepared lines of defense and chokepoints into their undoing!” Romelus insisted eagerly. “With but one bold stroke, we could force them to forfeit a third of their nation and most of their military at little cost!”
“A tempting proposition…” the Prelate agreed, his expression thoughtful. “But not without potentially great danger. That would cause the thestrals to immediately side with Celestia and could complicate our operations if Equestrian forces suddenly acquire a strong night-fighting capability. We also know less about bat-pony numbers and tactics than I would like, and I am doubtful that just three legions would be equal to the task of subduing them,” he mused.
The newly-minted Sub-Consul looked insulted for a moment and was about to speak before Gaius held up a halting paw. “‘Tis not a slight against you or your Talons, Sub-Consul. ‘Tis simply that the Owls were not able to gain much intelligence on them aside from some basic information on their two factions and the mutual enmity between them. And lacking that, a direct invasion with available forces seems unwise. ‘Tis why I seek to co-opt at least one side of them instead of simply sweeping them aside. They are predators like us, and by all reports, they hate Equestria and Celestia as much as we do.”
Romelus shook her head sharply. “Mayhap they are predators, and perchance they have no love for Celestia, but they are still ponies! We do not need their help, and methinks we should not take the chance that they may yet side with Equestria despite our overtures!
“So let us invade their lands now, Prelate, before they have a chance to fully mobilize! I acknowledge their skill in night fights, but even our limited intelligence shows they lack heavy weapons and any real daytime combat capability! So if necessary, we can go to ground at night and crush them during the day!” she claimed, punctuating her statement with a clenched claw that pounded on the table, her eyes gleaming with warrior fire.
The Prelate smiled anew at her confidence, only to finally shake his head. “Your aggressive instincts and strategic vision do you great credit, Sub-Consul. But no,” he decided at some length. “We simply do not have enough intelligence to risk it. We already have multiple overtures to the thestral factions in progress, and ‘twould be dishonorable to attack before they are answered. If we can co-opt just one side of them, Equestria’s entire forward defense likewise crumbles at little cost to us.”
Her expression dropped. “And if they later side with Celestia, Equestria’s entire forward defense is greatly strengthened and our advance becomes far more difficult,” she reminded him. “The risks of waiting must also be weighed, my lord.”
“I understand your concerns, sub-Consul, but I do not fear them siding with Celestia. Not when they have their own internal schism and shortly, a civil war to deal with.” He smiled thinly. “They are a house divided, and thus, with but a little prodding, they will turn on each other and then consume their own nation from within.
“And when they do? We will be able to open a second front towards Canterlot, threatening the ponies with a massive pincer attack from two directions. Then the only question becomes, whether the northern or southern prong reaches the Equestrian capital first!” He smiled at the prospect.
“For now, sub-Consul, your forces will continue the drive south, with a goal of encircling thestral lands and invading the Campelonian provinces on the other side. But you will not be there to lead them,” he told her, gaining her immediate attention. “I will indeed avail myself of your offer to lend your services elsewhere. For ‘tis certain I need your keen military mind on other fronts.”
“My Lord!” she exclaimed, her disappointment instantly forgotten. “And what does the Prelate wish of me, then?”
He smiled again, pulling out and unrolling a different map, this one showing all of northeast Equestria. “As other sectors of our offensive have enjoyed far less success, I direct you to take command of a newly forming Grand Legion that comprises the northern wing of our advance. Your initial command will include four damaged legions along with two fresh ones, as well as a full millenium of Knights with Owl and Raven adjuncts. Before you ask, be assured you have both my confidence and full authority to make any changes in command or organization that you see fit.”
Her red-feathered chest and head puffed out proudly, immediately drawing the Prelate’s gaze; there were times I wondered if Salvio Gaius’ interest in her was, in fact, somewhat personal given he seemed to favor both red feathers and keen intellects in his eaglesses. “I will carry out my new orders to the best of my ability, sir! And my objectives?”
He smiled broadly as he beheld the grand scale of his own design. “Sweep all before you. Take Maresk and Fort Ironheart, and then drive all the way to the Celestial and Lunar Seas,” he said succinctly, his eyes taking a predatory gleam as he tapped several locations on the map in turn.
“Crush the Ursa Naval Base and capture Detrot if you can, but your primary objective is here!” He tapped the area between the two seas. “Seize the Shetlandian Isthmus between the lakes before the ponies can set a defense and then break out into Wiscoltson! If you can do so, then we bypass the bulk of their potential battle lines!
“Success means that not only will the Equestrian breadbasket of the Unicorn Plains lie before us undefended, but the northern route to Canterlot will be wide open!” he proclaimed, leaving me in immense admiration of his strategy; one ‘tis certain I would never have thought of myself: he was disdaining the more direct and obvious southern drive between the Lunar Sea and Foal Mountains for a grand flanking maneuver using the lakes to the north; one that—if successful—would unhinge the entire Equestrian defense and seize their fertile farmlands for us just as harvest was reached.
“A brilliant plan! For Empress and Ancestors, it will be done!” she gave him the ritual response with a salute and bared throat. She then invited him to a private dinner followed by a tour of her new headquarters neither I nor the increasingly annoyed Primarch was invited on.
To perchance little surprise, they retired early behind a cordon of guards and we did not see either of them again until we departed the following morning.
Thank you as always, Ambassador. As much as we vilified Salvio Gaius during the war, alternately seeing him as an evil incarnate or a mad military genius, ‘tis sometimes good to know that he had a softer side; that he was in fact capable of desire and affection as well. I also note he was just as capable of recognizing good battlefield performance as poor, and rewarding the latter appropriately—the mark of a good commander.
Yes, looking back, I did leave that passage in so you wouldst see it. Having discussed it with those ponies who know of what dishonor I speak, I now formally request a meeting with you. And I further request that it come before the Queen departs.
Whilst I await your response, I will end this chapter myself, with the Loyalty on her final approach to Lake Luna and the Thestralslovakian border.
—Captain Firefly
Bolt Knight Captain Emeritus
Military History and Tactics Instructor
Equestrian Officer Academy
Canterlot
EAS Loyalty
North Shore of Lake Luna
September 3rd, 1139 AC
1840 hours
As we closed the distance to thestral lands, the mood aboard the Loyalty got progressively more tense.
The Foal Mountains that marked their northern border were now visible in the distance as we approached at dusk, with the peaks masked by their ever-present mists. ‘Twas within those mists we suspected a wounded Cloudsdale lay hidden, but we were not reassured by the fact that no patrols or pegasi came out to meet us, which was odd and perchance alarming given there were supposed to be at least two battalions of Corps forces now present there.
Crystal communication hails were likewise not answered as we got closer, either from Cloudsdale or the thestrals, even upon diplomatic channels reserved for the latter’s use.
‘Twas not to say we had no news in the meantime, though. Reports were filtering in from all over Equestria of Imperial operations, and the news was mostly grim, particularly in the south. And worse, to my great consternation, there was no word yet from Fort Spur save that she had indeed been struck but still stood.
‘Twas perchance at least mildly reassuring, but I still had no idea if my beloved sister Wind Whistler was alive, save for what I somehow sensed in my heart. I did not, however, have the same feeling when it came to my mentor, but I shoved that fear as deep down within me as I could.
For there was a war to fight, and I could not dwell on losses, either real or prospective given the unknown and potentially dangerous situation we were heading into. After lunch with Gavian, who made it known he wished to be given some role or duty on the airship, I found myself seeking solace from my fears and began making the rounds again, finding the infirmary still full of wounded and my soldiers slowly absorbing the events of the past few days.
Once we were underway and combat air patrol was set between the Naval air wing and my then-sixty effectives, Captain Shady pulled in all senior staff of both services to discuss what we would do given various scenarios of our arrival at Lake Luna and Cloudsdale’s suspected position.
Our orders were to avoid conflict, which we would do our best to abide by. But in the end, we knew not how the thestrals would take our presence. By the letter of the sovereignty settlement they had signed with Celestia—which we took great pains to review in our meeting to make sure we knew its terms—they were required to allow Equestrian military forces free passage in time of war, so in theory, they could do nothing regardless of whether they wanted us there.
But could the bat-ponies be trusted to keep their side of the treaty? What if they ignored it and attacked us for breaking their borders, perchance hoping to curry favor with the gryphons? We agreed that we would arrive already at General Quarters, and if conflict was forced upon us, we would not surrender—we would fight our way out and then report our reception to high command, giving them the unhappy news that we were now at war with Thestralslovakia as well as the Empire.
‘Twould be a last resort, however, as we continued hailing the thestrals and Cloudsdale, advising them of our approach. We had just made it to Lake Luna and crossed into thestral lands when our patrols sighted Cloudsdale not far to the west, just visible at sunset through the mountain mists. But before we could sail for her or make contact, we suddenly found ourselves swarmed by half a millennium of dark-furred thestral soldiers, their eyes glowing like embers in the deepening dusk.
We had neither seen nor sensed their approach despite our patrols, as they had apparently hid inside the mists and nearby floating clouds, hanging by their wing talons from their undersides and then closing on us from all directions.
They had us, and we were shortly hailed by their leader, who alit on the forward observation deck with a full squad of her brethren and demanded to speak to the Captain. Agreeing with an order to my father to seal the ship and ignite the ballonet defenses on her orders, Shady shortly exited the bridge to meet them, flanked by me and Fell Flight as well as the ship’s Mare-at-Arms, who was equipped with more weapons than I would have thought possible on a single pony.
‘Twas my first time seeing full thestrals, and ‘tis certain they did give me pause—large membrane wings, predatory eyes and teeth, and a general air about them that told me they were well-trained soldiers, anxious but not afraid.
And not to be taken lightly. At first glance, they were only lightly armed and armored, wearing treated animal hides for the latter whilst lacking wingblades for the former. But in their place, they had their own wrist-mounted crossbow variant and twin curved short blades on their belts not far removed from what unicorns used, and the manner in which they moved and flew was… unique. Different than either pegasi or gryphons, leaving me unable to immediately read their fighting styles or how best to counter them.
All this was noted in passing as their leader set her eyes on each of us in turn. Her gaze lingered on Fell Flight briefly, her face taking on an expression of open contempt as she recognized her eyes, causing those of my second to narrow. “I am Colonel Aegir Ale of the Nightborne Army. You are in violation of the border, Equestrians,” she warned in a noticeable Romareian accent.
“For which we apologize, but be assured our intentions are peaceful,” Shady answered easily with a placating bow of her head, though I caught a flash of anger in her eyes. “I am Captain—”
“We know who you are,” the Colonel cut her off hard, sparing another contemptuous look at the rest of us. Her eyes narrowed again as she set them on Fell Flight, whose anger was quickly growing along with my own at the blatant disrespect shown to not just her, but all of us.
To say nothing of their open flouting of the treaty, as her next words made clear: “And ‘tis not important. All that matters is that you are now in thestral lands, in violation of our sovereignty settlement with your Princess! For breaking the treaty and invading our territory, you are ordered to set down your ship in Lake Luna and surrender yourselves immediately to our custody…”
“I am a Soldier. I fight where I am told, and I win where I fight.” —General George S. Patton
