//------------------------------// // Captain Of The Night Guard // Story: The Adventures of Dobbelsteen Moerman // by TheDiceMan0407 //------------------------------// June 30th 1010, 09:01 Canterlot Airfield “Canterlot not your fancy, Mr. Moerman?” “I am actively heading towards a combat zone just to get out of here. What do you think, Constant?” Though the airfield was, for the most part, only in use once in a blue moon, the gray earth Pony and blonde Griffon had taken notice of a number of ponies gathering around hangers and small fighter aircraft, with an assortment of notebooks strewn about their hooves as each group discussed far away from either’s ears. Constant’s smile faded from Moerman’s sarcastic remark as they marched across the airfield, stopping right at the left wing of Moerman’s plane. Once again, Constant had to take quick glances between the plane, and its pilot. “...Out of all the possible aircraft in the world over in Griffonia. You chose this?” Just like Constant, Moerman’s own eyes were admiring the plane. The Griffon simply turned with an incredulous look. “Chose? Boreas no, Constant.” He turned back to face the plane. Constant’s head tilted in confusion. The Major nodded. “I stole it.” Military discipline. Constant Vigilance had quite the resume of feats in his own heyday and was perfectly comfortable with keeping his stories to himself. Yet, one thing the scarred, battle-hardened gray pony prided himself upon was Military discipline. Only one week into the start of the war, he had already lost it. Constant laughed, truly. It wasn’t a belly-over, four hooves off the ground, tears in his eyes laugh, but a laugh it was. Moerman seemed quite happy with himself at that, laughing along with him, though not even attempting to control it. As he quieted down, his smile slowly faded. “...That was a joke, right?” Dobbelsteen Moerman moved forward, ignoring him. “I’ll have to thank you, Constant. I suppose they’re going to need you here in Canterlot for quite some time. Soldiers with brains are a rare commodity.” Constant nodded back. “Somepony has to, Mr. Moerman. My days of running around and fighting the enemies of Equestria are far, far behind me. That is… unless you do an absolutely terrible job at the front.” Pulling down the stairs, Dobbelsteen stopped to give a glance at the city of Canterlot in the distance. He gave a look back to Constant. “Blueblood is the Commander of the Equestrian Army?” “The ‘new’ Earth, Unicorn, and Pegasi guard specifically. But yes, in essence, the Army.” Moerman nodded. “See you soon.” Shaking his head, Constant Vigilence’s eye was caught by the approach of a vehicle, the same model he used to drive the both of them to Canterlot, though with a fixed top. The vehicle drove across the runway, stopping right at the left wing of the plane, beside Constant Vigilance. The gray pony only deadpanned to Moerman. “Your escape was going so well, Mr. Moerman.” The car door swing open, and out stepped the exact opposite of the two soldiers. No, not Prince Blueblood, Moerman could at least grant that pony the credit that he was of normal height. Selenite, on the other hoof, was not as lucky. Closing the door behind them, Selenite and her silver mane stepped forward. “Constant,” She said with a smile and nod, before turning to Dobbelsteen and acknowledging him with a tone of the utmost professionalism. “Major Moerman. I hear you are heading to the front.” She cast a quick glance at the plane. “...In this.” Dobbelsteen smiled at his small civilian-airliner-turned-transport-turned-motor-home and gestured with his wings to it. “Right as rain. If this is about a fighter escort, she flies faster than any bullet in circulation.” Selenite deadpanned to Constant Vigilance, who only shrugged in return. She sighed. “As interesting it would be to pull the exact measurements and statistics necessary to prove you wrong, that is not why I am here.” She cleared her throat. “I am here to hitch a ride.”  Dobbelsteen lowered his sunglasses for a moment tilting his head. Now it was his turn to be surprised.  Constant Vigilance glanced between the two of them. Even down to the uniforms, hers a dark gray with midnight blue stripes around the collar, and his deep green and shining brass buttons, the two were complete opposites. Then he brought his hoof under his chin. “...Escaping Prince Blueblood as well, aren’t you?” “That’ll never hold in court, Constant.” Selenite let out a small smile. “In truth, travel to the front by any other means will take at least a week. I have an incentive to get to the frontlines as fast as possible for the sake of assisting the war effort. As do you.”  Constant Vigilance only stared at Selenite, before clearing his throat. Selenite nodded. “Oh, um… Please?” Dobbelsteen Moerman squinted at the Artillery Officer for a moment, recalling the Urgent War Committee the both of them subjected themselves to. Pushing up his sunglasses, he grinned. “General Selenite, wave goodbye to the filthy Garrisonite on your way up the stairs. Let’s get this show on the road.” He disappeared into the doorway. The silver-maned bat pony only looked at Constant, who seemed unamused in his Glare at Moerman. “At the end of this war…” he muttered, leaving the rest of the sentence to be filled by Selenite’s imagination.  Selenite, on the other hoof, briskly set off and up the stairs of the seaplane, as the engines began to turn with the sounds of ignition. Already aimed down the runway, the plane’s engines revved their power, as Selenite pulled up the ladder, and Moerman came back in the doorway next to her. “Be back soon, Old-Timer!” The two Generals waved to Constant, whose grim demeanor broke with a smile, giving a wave back, as the gray scarred pony turned back from the plane and opened the door to the vehicle.  With the closing of the hatch of the plane and the gradual speed it picked up down the runway, Constant Vigilance watched through the windshield as it gently took its place in the sky, disappearing into the misty clouds above Canterlot. “...Good luck to you, Mister Moerman.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- June 30th 1010, 12:36 Moerman’s Junkers 52 Civilian Airliner Somewhere over Central Equestria General Selenite wanted off the wild ride. Now, it wasn’t a matter of being in the air that really bothered her. She was a Thestral after all, her wings and the altitude they could bring her were often a source of comfort. Nor was it the fact she was in a plane. Although fear of flying in the recent technological marvel that was the airplane was currently commonplace, she was not afflicted by it. What she was afflicted by, was the crippling fear of a total moron being the pilot. The plane had titled, swerved, and nearly rolled over on more occasions than Selenite was comfortable counting. Thankful that all of the haphazardly laid about furniture in this converted airplane was bolted down, Selenite straightened her military uniform… and her seatbelt. An assortment of folders, maps, and books rested either in her hooves or on the seat next to her as well. She fastened their seatbelt as well. “This was a mistake…” She muttered to the papers and gave a side eye to the cockpit. The papers did not respond.  Though, the horror was only beginning. Just as the plane was beginning to level out, into the cabin stepped Moerman. From the cockpit. Him being the only occupant of it. Walking past Selenite and the four factory-issued seats near the front, (which were turned to face inwards by some shoddy Do-It-Yourself engineering), he simply entered the open kitchen built into the side of the Airplane’s aluminum frame. Unlatching one of the cabinets, he rummaged through the most-certainly-not-organized compartment. Moerman’s tail grazed the countertop as he practically climbed into it. Wait, were there dumbbells in there? Eventually, he pulled out a container and opened it, placing a sandwich in his claw. He found Selenite staring at him. “...What?” Selenite blinked rapidly, before raising a hoof to gesture wildly to the cockpit. “Wha- you- are-” Stopping herself before she could lose all sense of professionalism, she regulated her voice down to its normal level. “The aircraft, Mr. Moerman.” She said, pointing to the cockpit with her hoof and barely hiding her annoyance. “...Uh-huh?” “Where is the pilot?” “Getting a sandwich.” Selenite could have shot him right there. Thankfully, Moerman knew when to quit. He gestured to the cockpit, flashing a smile. “Autopilot. Fancy little invention.” He turned, gesturing to the floor of the plane. “Two gyroscopes, kind of like little computers, measure the yaw, pitch, and roll of the plane. Messages are sent to the cockpit to a small box, which takes the controls when I turn it on.” The Major sat down on the two seats opposite General Selenite, keeping a watchful eye on the cockpit and taking a bite of his sandwich. “We’re flying over the plains, on a straight heading, with little altitude change. You gotta give me more credit than that, General.” Selenite’s scowl degraded to simple apprehension, glancing between the cockpit and the Major. “I’m surprised you were able to get your claws on such a system, Major.” “You shoot a couple of bad guys, win a few scraps of metal on your shirt?” Moerman shook his head, listening to the white noise of the three propeller engines humming the aircraft across the blue sky, coasting between the clouds. “They’ll give you anything for free.” “Well… that’s surprising of you to say.” Now it was Moerman’s turn to look confused. “How ya mean?” “I figured you would be quite proud of those scraps of metal on your chest.” She lowered her head, picked up a folder in her hooves, and went back to reading. “Given how they’re all you seem to talk about…” “All of the others seem to talk about, General.” Dobbelsteen leaned back in the chair, leaning his head against the window and adjusting the sunglasses that rested atop his head. Unlike Selenite’s uniform which looked fresh off the parade deck, Moerman’s top had been unbuttoned to fully display a button-down shirt with tropical trees and various fruits. “Do I really look like I care for military bearing?” Selenite eye’s glanced back, unamused. She fought the urge to roll her eyes, and her voice was as monotone as ever. “You are without a doubt the strangest military officer I’ve ever met.” “I’m part-time.” Now she did roll her eyes. Only smiling, he flicked his sunglasses down to rest on his beak and leaned forward. “Alright, I’ll quit playing around. Whatcha working on?” Selenite stopped, only bringing her gaze up to glare at the Griffon. You would have expected Selenite to be intimidated by this Griffon who was a whole head taller than most ponies, let alone her. Her piercing gaze cut settled the score. “...Thinking through the strategy of the war, Major. Something I expected a Griffon like you would understand.” “Sheesh, Selenite. Not so rough when you rake me over the coals like that.” He smiled, standing up from his seat and peering towards the cockpit, and checking the autopilot. “The more you melt your brain looking at the same squares and the same contour lines, the less you’ll be able to use it when it matters.” He stepped back and walked down the frame of the plane and back into the kitchen cabinets. Selenite tilted her head. “At what point would it matter more than now? Theorizing a strategy to win this war as bloodlessly as possible?” “Probably when you’re shooting.” He paused after withdrawing a cardboard box and setting it on the kitchen counter. He turned around to face her. “You… have fired a weapon before, right?” Selenite’s eyes narrowed. “I am the Captain of the Night Guard, appointed by Princess Luna herself.” “Blueblood’s the Field Marshal.” She looked back to her papers. “I don't think I need to tell an Imperial about Noble lineage and its powers.” “You’re exactly right.” Dobbelsteen Moerman said, a grin appearing on his face as he peered inside the cardboard box, one claw sifting through it. “Which means that you and I are in quite similar predicaments, Selenite.” Now, the silver-maned bat pony truly turned her attention from her papers and towards the Griffon, who retrieved quite a large book from an assortment inside the box.  “The only thing worse than being surrounded by a bunch of ponies that don't know sky from dirt in the realm of strategy and tactics is not being able to rely on an undeserved reputation to silence them without having to argue.” The Griffon gave a smile, then turned his gaze to the book in his claw. “Now this ain't much, but I only took the important ones they wouldn’t miss.” Selenite quickly stood on her hooves, trotting over to the box and barely tall enough to look inside. Moerman awkwardly tilted the box down, adjusting his sunglasses with a free claw. “I assume military theory is hard to come by in Equestria. Figured it’d help.” Selenite’s eyes widened upon glancing inside. “...On War by General Marten… Infantry Attacks by Rossum. She mumbled the selection of titles to herself before she practically jumped as her hooves settled on the one in Moerman’s claws, yanking it free of his grasp. “Battle Tactics of the Grover Campaigns!?!?” Moerman’s smile slightly faded. “...Uh- be careful with that one! It’s very expensive!” He shook his head as her eyes and ears were only trained upon the book. He mumbled to himself. “Be a shame to the poor Griffon who paid for it.” Selenite on the other hoof failed to recognize the felon in the aluminum room, instead opening the book, and then quickly closing it. “I mean, I’ll only borrow it for the plane ride. I mean, any literature about militaristic conquest and tactical operations is few and far between in all of Equestria, so much so that even Twilight had a hard time trying to find any for me!” Moerman raised an eyebrow behind his sunglasses, the Griffon’s tail shifting with amusement. “I take it you’re a bit of a hobbyist? No Griff I know is this interested.” “Well, of course!” Selenite regained her military professionalism, raising a hoof to articulate herself. “Grover II’s use of Artillery was absolutely pivotal towards defeating armies not only much larger than his own but in unfavorable conditions and with every conceivable military advantage stacked against him!” “Nerd.” “History is the source of every creature's greatest mistakes, Major.” Selenite grinned. “And for those of us who study it, it's an excellent tool to use against those who don't.” Dobbelsteen Moerman smiled, storing the box back into the cabinets as he spoke. “There’s a bit of writing in some of the margins, but it shouldn’t be too much. Not a whole lot of thinking goin’ on here.” He stepped to the side, walking back towards the cockpit and adjusting the uniform top he had around himself. “We’re still a couple of hours out from Salt Lick City.” Selenite looked up from the book in her hooves, turning around as she held it close to her uniform. “Major, may I ask you something?” The Griffon stopped in the doorway of the cockpit, turning back from the instruments of the plane. “Hm?” “I’ve been meaning to ask, but… well, the answer you gave at the Committee didn’t seem to be genuine.” Selenite articulated. “Princess Luna heavily encouraged me to travel with you, certainly because of the impression you made.” “Hope it was a good one.” “But… personally, I would like to know.” She briefly set the book down on the counter of the miniature kitchen, tilting her head slightly. “This is no ordinary military assignment, not even an assignment in the first place. Why did you choose to come here?” For a moment, Selenite saw Dobbelsteen’s smile fade to a fraction of what it usually was, his gaze drifting off to the side for a moment. Tapping the metal doorframe of the cockpit with his claw, he forced out an answer. “Soldiers go where the war is, Selenite. It’s what we’re built for.” As he turned back towards the cockpit and settled into the pilot’s seat, Selenite blinked. Just as the dark clouds were brief blotches upon the blue sky through the windows, Moerman’s cheery smile and blatant violation of all uniform codes in Griffonian history contradicted his actions. An annoyance one minute, kind the next. She took the book on the counter into her hooves, as she sat with a curious glance to the plane around her. “...What a strange Griffon.”