July 1st 1010, 19:00
Moerman’s Junkers 52 Civilian Airliner
Skies of Salt Lick City
“And whoever this ‘Anonymous Author’ is,” said Selenite, who had refused to stop talking ever since she got her hooves on a newspaper article she strongly disagreed with, “they have absolutely zero clue what they are talking about.”
Dobbelsteen cast a glance to the co-pilot seat as he adjusted his sunglasses. Apparently, the setting of the sun hadn’t rendered the sky dark enough for him. “Seems he struck a nerve. It’s what Journalists are supposed to do.”
She brushed aside her silver mane with a huff. “Journalists are meant to tell the truth.” Turning the newspaper over with her hoof, she held it up. “Reporting on the ongoing war isn’t for any nimrod with a pen to do. At least this… Coral Ridge author seems to have an idea what he’s talking about.” She folded the paper as she cast a look of bewilderment to Moerman. “And he’s writing from Hippogriffia!”
“Is he correct in his writing?” The Griffon asked, not taking his eyes off the mountain range below them. “Or is he just writing what you want to hear?”
She placed a hoof on one of the paragraphs. “In comparing the industrial bases, fielded pony power, and all other material aspects of the war as we know it, victory for Equestria will be hard-fought, but in my mind, to be certain.”
His wings shifted in amusement. “So exactly what you want to hear.”
Selenite glared. “I’m here to make those words a reality, Major.” She adjusted her uniform as she sat in the co-pilot’s seat, before leaning down to the floor and picking up a few pieces of paper that rested upon the book borrowed prior. “I sincerely hope you do as well.”
Moerman only smiled, taking his gaze off of the mountain range and the growing night sky, peering through the dim cockpit to see Selenite reading the papers. “Easy for me to read in the dark,” Selenite said, seemingly reading his mind.
“I know that we’d always ban Thestral fillies from being the seeker in hide-and-seek at night when I was young.” He tapped the dashboard of the cockpit. “Rest the maps here, what are we getting ourselves into?”
She rested a black-and-white map of the general area around Vanhoover on a clipboard, then had it rest on display above the dim lights of the plane’s controls. As the hum of the engines was muffled outside the windows, Selenite pointed a hoof at a lake at the edge of the mountain range on the map. “This is Salt Lick City. Three hundred kilometers north, is the frontline.” Her hoof glided over flat plains and forested areas to the outskirts of Fairflanks. “The Changelings are advancing along the railways leading from the border city of Seaddle towards Vanhoover. Their armored forces primarily.”
Moerman gave a long look at the map, turning to Selenite. “So, why aren’t they heading for Salt Lick City? They’ve gotta know that's the sole route of escape.”
“And neglect the railway leading directly towards the city of Vanhoover?” Selenite’s eyebrow raised. “Plus, with Seaddle firmly under Changeling Control, it's far easier to supply an offensive directly on Vanhoover, rather than an attempt to cut off the city.”
“So they’re advancing directly along the railway lines.” Moerman thought for a moment. “If they’re permitted to send their armored forces with the speeds they’ve accomplished prior, they’ll surround the city before we can evacuate the ponies inside.”
“Thunderbolt Sentinel has been doing all in his power to prevent that.” Adjusting her position in the co-pilot's seat to face Moerman directly, she was able to reach the map easier. “He’s been deployed along the coast delaying the advance with trench lines. Though he operates on Blueblood’s orders, his defensive tactics are… far more innovative.”
“I assume he needs all the help he can get.”
“No doubt.” She grimaced, before shaking her head. “But the Changelings are advancing too quickly. Deployment of dedicated artillery to support him might be near impossible given the speed of their armored forces. Unless…”
Dobbelsteen turned his gaze, “Unless what?”
“Unless I was able to deploy the field guns within eight miles of the railway lines.” Selenite nodded her head. “The field guns at our disposal aren’t the best, but at close range, they'll blow their offensive sky high. Or, at the very least, halt their advance and take pressure off of Sentinel.”
Moerman laughed, shaking his head. “You expect them to let you bring those guns that close?” He adjusted the sunglasses on the bridge of his beak. “If they’re smaller guns, maybe in conjunction with Sentinel’s trench lines. But if I were the Armored corp, They’d merely fire upon you from the north.”
“Unless there was a certain somegriff holding that Northern flank.” She grinned, turning to Dobbelsteen and planting a hoof at the forested area between Salt Lick City and the Front Line. “Over two hundred square kilometers of forest to my north? My flanks are as solid as Canterlot’s walls.”
The Griffon fully leaned away from the controls and looked towards the map, regarding the bat-pony next to him with dumbfounded confusion. “You want me to hold the northern frontline? Against Changeling infantry? With who knows how many soldiers at my disposal?”
“Yes.”
Moerman’s tail shifted. “Completely to give your artillery a window to strike the advancing armored forces on the approach to the city.”
“Correct.”
“Even though my soldiers will be absolutely outnumbered and out-trained against a superior enemy, with my only supply line being the natural forest as all other efforts are concentrated on evacuation.”
Selenite grimaced, gesturing with her hooves to the map. “Oh come on. It sounds cool, doesn’t it? And it’s our only shot at aiding Sentinel!”
Dobbelsteen shook his head with a sigh. “And you think just because it sounds cool, that means I’ll sign up for a suicide mission.”
She merely raised an eyebrow.
“...It does sound cool.” He muttered, breathing a heavy sigh of contentment. The evacuation was the number one priority here. “When we land, I’ll do my best to convince the Salt Lick garrison to redeploy with me to the forest.” He flashed a smile. “I’ll do my best, General.”
Selenite smiled widely, confirming with a nod. “Excellent! With this, we might be able to get some headway.” She scribbled with her hoof onto the map, taking it down from its spot on the dashboard and stacked it along with the other papers on the floor neatly. Her hooves hovered over the papers for a moment, just as the plane was beginning its long descent. “...Hey, Moerman?”
The Griffon turned, his gaze seemingly lost in the starry skies above. “Hm?”
“You said you grew up with Thestrals when you were young?”
He smiled, nodding as he reset his gaze towards the controls, flicking a few switches to prepare for landing. “Thestrals, Ponies, Diamond Dogs, you name it. Feathisia has a lot of communities of all kinds of creatures scattered about, mostly in the swamps where I grew up.” He adjusted his uniform. “Why, what gave it away?”
She let out a laugh. “You seriously banned thestrals from seeking in hide-and-seek at night?”
“Oh, come on.” He narrowed his eyes. “It’s practically cheating!”
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July 1st 1010, 19:46
Moerman’s Junkers 52 Civilian Airliner
Salt Lick City, Salt Lake
Stretched far and wider than any pilot could ever dream of, the vast lake that began at the base of Salt Lick City and stretched to nearly touch the horizon served as the easiest landing strip Dobbelsteen ever had to contend with. Flagged down by a pair of waving lanterns at the shore, the seaplane gently glided down from the skies and gently had its floats cut into the jet-black lakewater. Landing parallel to the shore, the three engines propelled the plane to coast along the shore until slowing to a stop in front of the lantern-waving ponies standing on a dock.
Salt Lick City itself, hardly anything to boast about, served almost as a lighthouse in the surrounding forest under the dark night sky.
With the engines of the plane slowing to a halt and powering down, Moerman quickly got up from the pilot’s seat and made his way to the cabin with Selenite, curiously discarding his uniform’s coat. As Selenite gathered her maps and warplans, stuffing them into a satchel on her side, Moerman walked to the back of the plane.
The Thestral paused at the door, as Moerman returned from the back carrying not only a lever action rifle but furthermore shrugging on two bandoliers of ammunition across his chest and hugging the root of his wings. Pulling the uniform’s coat over both the bandoliers and his floral shirt, he looked at Selenite. “...What?”
“...The Griffonian Empire issues lever actions?”
He shook his head, buttoning up his uniform and slinging the rifle around his shoulder and right wing. “When the commandos started, we were given outdated lever actions as opposed to the smooth bolt actions. Became a cultural thing.”
Selenite cocked her head. “You don't want to… upgrade?”
He stepped beside her, pushing open the door to the plane. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Moerman’s wings had to be tucked in in order to fit through the door and expanded into a stretch as he exited out of the Plane and onto the dock. As his paws and claws rested upon the dark wood beneath her hooves, one of the ponies holding the lanterns stepped forward.
His bright orange coat contrasted with the dimness of the night, as he gave a deep nod of respect to both the Thestral and Griffon before him. “General Selenite, Major Marman. Lieutenant Marephry at your service. You’ve arrived earlier than expected. We’re delighted to have you.”
Dobbelsteen blinked. “Wha….Moerman. Not Marman.”
“How earlier are we talking, Lieutenant?” General Selenite cast her gaze to the city, whose lights still shone out across the waters. “The Night Guard’s 2nd Artillery division is expected to arrive at 19:00, is it not?”
The Lieutenant before them grimaced. “Apologies Ma’am, but from what we’ve received up the wire is that the rail lines are backed up and busy with the evacuation of civilians. They have been delayed by a few hours.”
Selenite’s eyes practically bulged out of their sockets, “A few hours?!”
The orange pony before them took a step back under Selenite’s harsh gaze, Even Moerman, a whole head taller, slowly leaned away from the fear this small pony could incite. At least the Griffon found it amusing. “P-Prince Blueblood himself has assured their arrival before sunrise!”
“Oh, now you’re just making it worse,” Moerman said, cracking a grin at the poor pony before him, earning a glare from Selenite. His smile died away. “...Right. Not a time to joke.”
“What troops do we have, Lieutenant?” spoke Selenite, “Are any remaining in this city at this moment?”
Moerman looked over to the Thestral, stepping in to save the poor officer in front of them. “The war caught you by surprise, Selenite, all your uniformed soldiers are either being trained or at the front already, are they not?”
“All we have in this city are the injured, ma’am,” Marephry added.
“What’s the situation at the front itself, Lieutenant?” Selenite’s uniform and silver mane practically blended in with the night sky as if she were one with it, her gaze turning from the office and across the lake to the north. “Are there any remaining units from Fairflanks?”
“Apart from those rallied under Sentinel to the west in the defense of Vanhoover, I cannot say.” The Lieutenant sighed, “I’m two weeks off being a baker, my jurisdiction relies on the defense of this city. I only hope to hold it enough for the soldiers who… might have made it from Fairflanks.”
Dobbelsteen’s feathers ruffled from the lake’s breeze as it did Selenite’s mane, as his eyes trained on the officer before him behind his Sunglasses. “...Entrusting the defense of a city to a Lieutenant. That’s one way to learn.” His wing raised, pointing to the distant lights of Salt Lick City. “You’re in charge of this city, Lieutenant. Start preparing it for war.”
Selenite’s gaze turned to the Griffon, seemingly shaken out of a train of thought. “None of their soldiers are combat-effective, Moerman.”
“My thoughts exactly.” The Major turned, his green uniform hardly noticeable in the dark apart from its brass buttons. “Shut off the city lights. As the front advances, bombers are sure to target any buildings they can see. Clear the streets and mobilize any personnel not assisting with the evacuation to bring all civilians underground or to the lowest possible floors.”
The Lieutenant stammered. “Y-You don't think…”
Selenite nodded. “He’s right. The Changelings will be targeting civilian infrastructure, and we need to do everything in our power to make Salt Lick City a difficult target for their aircraft.” The Thestral turned to the Griffon, the wind almost making it difficult to hear. “I’ll start mobilizing first responders to start bringing civilians either on open trains on their way deeper into Equestria, or into shelter. It’s all we can do until the Night Guard arrives.”
Dobbelsteen adjusted the rifle slung around his back with his free claw. “I’ll head north towards the front line. If any of those border guard regiments were smart, which no doubt they are, they’ll be hiding out in that forest.” He turned his gaze toward the Lieutenant. “I’ll see if I can regroup them and send back the wounded.”
“You can take the vehicle, it’ll get you there much faster than your wings.” Marephry’s hoof adjusted his purple uniform as he spoke incredulously. “Are you positive, Major? Trimmel’s had us on the run since the start, and you’re going back?”
“Somepony’s gotta get your friends.” Moerman turned to Selenite. “I’ll do my best to hold their infantry in that forest. You should have enough of a window to move your guns into position to assist Sentinel.”
Selenite nodded, bringing up her hoof to a salute so crisp and professional it was right off the parade deck. “Good luck, Major. May the Princesses protect you.”
The Major’s response was almost grounds for court-martial, merely flicking his claw from his brow and forward, falling at his side. “I don't think they like me that much.” He let out a laugh, stepping off to climb into the jeep parked along the shore. As the vehicle roared to life, the Griffon gave a smile. “Good luck, Selly! If I die, you don’t get my books!”
As the jeep peeled off the gravel and sand of the lake’s shore and onto the road bound for the northern front, the Lieutenant turned to Selenite. “...Who in Celestia’s name was that?”
“...Somegriffon who's got a death wish.”