//------------------------------// // 0: Evacuation // Story: Confidential Cases: Winggarden // by Anneal //------------------------------// 11 Nunember, 188 TI/1013 ALB Aïn Trotgourait, Arisian Mandate of Zumidia The skies were surprisingly peaceful that day. Azerda stood quietly as she waited in a long line among many to get on the landing craft placed against the Trotgourait shore among many other soldiers. The zebra mare was still in her dirt-caked uniform and helmet with her Springtide bolt-action mounted onto her side, hastily tailored and modified for Zumidian auxiliaries who had smaller and much different anatomies than their hippogriff counterparts. Seven years ago, when Azerda was still a teenage filly, she remembered the hippogriff soldiers marching triumphantly along the streets of Zirta, her hometown. The zebra Kingdom of Zumidia was once a prosperous kingdom along the northern Zebrican coast that was an unfortunate victim to the Storm King's conquest. But the hippogriffs, with some outside help, had beaten back the Storm King's rapidly deteriorating military in a matter of a day at Aïn Trotgourait, ending his campaign of pillaging and destruction. Although Zumidia was placed under Arisian protection to prevent the country from collapsing into complete anarchy and to solve the major refugee crisis caused by the Storm War, there was still some hope among zebras that they would be able to rebuild from the ashes and restore their country's former glory. Now, Azerda could see none of that pride – the hippogriffs were retreating in shame at a conflict in which defeat was inevitable. They were facing a new kind of enemy, surrounded on multiple sides by the fascist Wingbardians in Griffonia, revanchist Colthagians, and the hitherto unknown Chiropterrans, who they now learned worshipped for the return of their Nightmare Moon. It was a losing battle, especially against the Nightmarists who had used weapons they have never learned of before. Zumidia was a lost cause. Their evacuation to the Arisian archipelago where the Anti-Arisian alliance could not hope to invade against their fortified coasts meant that they were abandoning Zumidia on the continental mainland to its fate. Azerda considered her unenviable options: either she would flee with the hippogriffs or surrender to the Colthagians...or worse yet, the Nightmarists who would almost certainly enslave her. The line moved forward at a slow crawl; Azerda could spot a couple zebras in the nearby lines, looking as tired and defeated as she was. Some soldiers were wounded, wearing bloodied bandages or splints. The bright and sunny weather was completely inappropriate to the sullen setting. She had overheard reports of the Nightmare Legions focusing their attention on eliminating encircled pockets in Zambessa and her now occupied hometown of Zirta further south rather than bombing Aïn Trotgourait. It took roughly an hour, but Azerda was able to make her way onto the landing craft; the seats were quite large to accommodate for hippogriff body sizes. Aris Island was a bit too far away from the Zumidian coast to see from the bright blue horizon, though she could clearly spot some destroyers holding their positions away from the shore. If not for underwater mines making seapony transformation a death trap, Azerda assumed the Arisians could conceivably swim back to the island. She quietly took out a pack of cigarettes from one of the rations she still had remaining, holding a match she struck the rough edge of the matchbox. Lacking in claws, lighting the cigarette was a minor challenge of balancing the match with her hoof while the zebra held the cigarette in her mouth, taking a deep inhale to settle her nerves. "Useless stripedbacks. They're the reason why we've lost to those bastards," a light green hippogriff muttered before spitting at the landing craft's deck in front of her. The saliva narrowly missed her rear hoof. Azerda looked up at the taller soldier. "Pardon?" she answered in a light Zumidian accent, taking out the cigarette to let out a puff of nicotine-laced smoke away from the landing craft as it took off. She took a short look at the hippogriff, who had two chevrons just like her on the side of his right arm. "We've spent far too much time on propping up you bottom-feeders is what I'm saying," he replied derisively, taking a short swig from his canteen. "Zumidians like you are ungrateful and undisciplined. Couldn't hold a frontline if your life depended on it. I have no idea why we spent so much griffpower and taxpayer money on defending your land." She frowned and sat straight up. "You've got feathers for brains, hookbeak? We were outnumbered and didn't have enough air support," Azerda explained, putting the cigarette back in her mouth for another huff. "Should be expected, though. You type of hippogriffs always look out for themselves and not for others. Aris for Arisians, right?" "Quiet down, both of you!" the lieutenant of the landing craft shouted, holding his Cloudfall rifle against his arm. He appeared to be from a different battalion like the rest of them, but was the highest commanding officer on the board. "If both of you don't shut up, I'll report you both for misconduct." Azerda leaned back down quietly for the rest of the trip, though the green hippogriff made sure to give her an unpleasant glare as he finished his canteen. The landing craft stopped on the port-side of the destroyer, the Arisian sailors rushing to the gangway to drop the gangway onto the back end of the boat. Like how the soldiers entered the landing craft, exiting it was done in a relatively orderly fashion, with Azerda waiting for the back of the boat to clear before trotting onto the gangway. She looked back to the Zumidian beach one last time to see the home that she was never going to return to. Although the Queen had passed a decree formally naturalizing all Zumidian exiles as Arisian citizens, Azerda had never set hoof on the islands before. She was bound for an unfamiliar land with unfamiliar faces, with no friends or family. Azerda spotted a group of zebras piling up along the shoreline; they were too far away for the zebra to hear their shouts and voices, but she could notice they were not in Arisian uniform. Many of them were apparently trying to push their way through the military guards. "What's your problem? Move up, zebra," the hippogriff a few steps behind her snapped. "Aren't we going to rescue those civilians?" Azerda asked the lieutenant ahead of her. "Didn't I tell you to keep quiet, corporal?" the lieutenant replied with an exasperated look before sighing. "General Greyfeather has assigned additional landing craft for this operation to evacuate non-combatants as well. He will make sure as much of them as possible are accounted for." Azerda nodded and made her way into the thick metal doors of the destroyer, following the line's way down towards the mess deck. She didn't want to believe it, but she could tell through the officer's speech the reality of the situation. They weren't returning for those civilians.