//------------------------------// // A Walk In The Woods // Story: The Adventures of Dobbelsteen Moerman // by TheDiceMan0407 //------------------------------// July 1st 1010,  23:17 3rd Platoon, Bravo Company, 14th Changeling Infantry Division 142 km North of Salt Lick City Nopony could meet the eyes of each other. Even as the truck rolled back and forth across the rocky road through the forest, and the restraints that tied their hooves together numbed them with pain, they couldn’t look at each other. Their eyes had been glued to the floor of the truck, the canopy overhead hiding them away from the rest of the world. Being the closest to the back, Strawberry Cinnamon could catch glimpses through the canopy. Mostly to avoid the piercing glare of the two Changeling Soldiers inside the truck, watching over the dozen prisoners inside like prey. She could glimpse the other truck, noticing that the two prisoner transports were towards the rear of the convoy. Between their two modes of transport, a four-seater car rolled along, the Changelings inside swiveling their gazes to the forest. Across from her, sat Berry Twist. He had been injured, as nearly half of the ponies in the vehicle had in one or another, his side loosely bandaged and his eyes sunken, his hooves wrapped around himself. He was shaking uncontrollably. So badly did Strawberry want to reach out, wrap his purple coat under her brown wings and hold him.  She wanted to jump out, all of them too, to run as far as her hooves could take her and just leave this horror that wouldn’t let her go, wouldn’t let anypony go.  Brushing her red mane aside, she could feel a tear fall down her face and drop to her purple uniform. She sniffled to try and compose herself, but it hardly worked. She gradually let herself fall into a quiet sob. She practically shrieked once the stock of the guard next to her jammed into her side, catching the attention of all the frightened ponies within the vehicle at the guard, whose simple words bit like venom. “Shut up.” As she practically glued herself to the rear of the vehicle to get as much distance between herself and the guard as possible, he simply rested his hooves on his weapon, shifting in his gray and black uniform. His glare forced the gazes of all the prisoners down to the floorboards. Even the guard across from him seemed off-put. He averted his gaze down to his weapon. Silence fell in the back of the truck, only the muffled conversation from the two Changelings in the cabin filling the air.  Lucky Twirl was shrunk into her seat in the far corner. She hoped her small frame could be shielded behind the bodies of her fellow prisoners, as she raised her green eyes to glimpse at the guards. Seeing them occupied, she slowly leaned against the cabin walls, listening in towards the cabin. “Where are we headed next?” Two voices could be heard, one of them significantly more gruff than the other. Given her location in the bed of the truck, the older changeling was the driver of the vehicle.  “Nowhere until this forest is cleared out. Which, as we’ve seen, seems to be wrapping up quite nicely. We had quite the optimistic outlook, but we may even take this forest before Vanhoover falls.” “I doubt that.” The younger voice scoffed. “General Roland has a dozen or so Tank divisions at his disposal. We’re stuck with Colonel Zellix in the middle of nowhere.” “Colonel Zellix is not a Changeling to sneer at. Though our high command can be a bit… reckless, they are the finest minds on the continent, if not the entire planet. We’ve been practicing, and studying war for decades. Colonel Zellix gave himself until July 10th to take this forest, but I suspect he wants it before the eighth to beat Roland.” “You think he will?” “I think Roland thinks he will. Zellix is merely a Colonel and a bit… over the top, but he’s eager to prove his worthiness at the table. Surpassing Roland would certainly add to his credit.” There was a bit of a pause in the cabin, as Lucky Twirl strained to listen in. “But…it matters little to us. The Equestrian High Command cannot hope to match ours if theirs even exist.” “I suppose we could stop by their office in Canterlot pretty soon.” Twirl’s jaw tightened with frustration at the ensuing self-congratulatory laughter that came from the cabin, turning away from it and doing her best to drown it out. Brushing her auburn mane back with her tied hooves, she felt herself deflate under the sympathetic, defeated tone of the truck. She took a deep breath, leaning forward and trying to catch a look from Strawberry Cinnamon at the opposite end of the truck. She wanted to tell her that there was going to be a way out of this, but even Lucky Twirl couldn’t think of one. Still, the small hint of calm that fell over her friend Strawberry when they saw each other was enough to- “SWEET CHRYSALI-” The yell from the cabin was quickly cut off by the thunderous boom that jolted the entire truck awake, as something up ahead of them crashed onto metal and forced the convoy to a screeching halt. Everypony worriedly looked from one to the other, even Berry Twist shaken out of his injured state, his pain replaced with the panic that now infested the occupants. “Move!” The guard behind Strawberry shouted, standing up with the other soldier across, their bolt actions at the ready as they dropped out of the bed of the truck, into the gaze of the headlights of the car behind them. The occupants of the vehicle looked as confused as the two soldiers were, the four of them leaning out of the vehicle to get a look at the road up ahead. CRACK! The guard who once sat next to Strawberry now fell to the ground under her, as the air around them erupted with the lights of traces and the sounds of gunfire, the ponies inside immediately dropping to the floor of the truck as the outside became the most dangerous place on the planet for the all-too-brief spell of battle. As they huddled for the perceived safety of their comrades on the floors, only Cinnamon was brave enough to peek out the back of the truck’s canopy. “Where?! Where!?” Shouted one of the soldiers from inside the four-seater vehicle, as the passenger seated Changeling raised his rifle to fire in one direction, before a bullet came and pierced his helmet from another direction, falling against the door of the vehicle. The interior of the cabin was splattered in bits of faintly iridescent yellow-ochre blood, yellow-gray brain matter, and black chitin on the window that separated the cabin and the bed of the truck. His body had fallen out of their line of sight, but the lack of sound made it self-evident that the impact had killed him. The occupants of the vehicle fired back up one of the two hills the convoy was parked between, hastily cycling their bolts in a panic. The truck at the very back of the convoy immediately roared in reverse, pulling away from the vehicle between them, before a volley of gunfire from another direction slammed right into the windshield. The truck began to spin, the body of the driver presumably stuck on the wheel. “Along the ditch!” Yelled one of the soldiers in the vehicle, “Along the-” Bullets fired off toward the convoy in cycles, all from different directions. The cacophony of fire threatened to drown out all other sounds; everyponys’ ears rang over the screams, shouts, and commands of the Changeling guards in the convoy. The sheer violence of the moment had utterly encompassed the usually peaceful forested road. The driver of the car shifted the vehicle into gear and began to drive forward, before the spinning truck spun completely around and slammed it in the side, causing it to completely flip over, throwing the occupants onto the road. “FOR THE LOVE OF-” shouted the other soldier from the truck, before bullets kicked up around him and he dove off to the side. The spinning truck came to a stop, stuck on the vehicle, as the passenger and two guards from it came out with their weapons raised. Firing off towards the front of the convoy, the prisoners inside dared to raise their heads alongside Cinnamon, peeking out of the back. With the canopy of the other truck torn open from the collision, the eyes of the Platoon met each other amidst the chaos. One of the soldiers turned from his squad of four, raising his weapon at the truck and shouting amidst all the gunfire.  BOOM, KACHUNK! Falling to the ground, the other three soldiers immediately raised their weapons before three more bullets sailed towards them in rapid succession, ricocheting off the crashed car and forcing them into a rout. Three soldiers ran forward, a bandaged white pegasus and a light gray earth Pony with their bolt actions at the ready. Amongst them, the Griffon cycled his lever action once more, firing up the road.  “Trek’s got the rest of the convoy pinned, the tree’s split em in half! You two, bring this vehicle around and back to the rally point!” Nodding to the two ponies, they broke off and quickly threw open the doors to the truck, shifting it into reverse. The Griffon fired his lever action rifle in quick succession, seemingly keeping the rest of the convoy pinned. As his gaze behind his sunglasses was set forward, the driver of the vehicle scrambled for his pistol along the ground, raising it towards him. Lucky Twirl lept over Cinnamon and out of the truck, hastily bringing up the rifle of the downed Changeling and firing it off towards the car, the bullet shattering the left headlight.  The driver dove behind the overturned vehicle, with the Griffon turning back and pulling the trigger of his rifle, but only receiving a click. “Ten rounds ALREADY?!” He yelled to nopony in particular. CRACK!  Falling into the gravel of the road, a blue earth pony stepped forward with a smoking bolt action. “The rest of the convoy peeled off, my teams heading back to the rally point, Moerman.” Slinging his Winchester, the Griffon nodded. “Outstanding, Jungle. Let’s go.” “Is-Is that Jungle Trek!?” Whispers erupted in the vehicle amongst the prisoners, as the blonde-feathered Griffon and Blue-coated Soldier climbed into the cabin, the truck peeling back down the road, and away from the oak tree that cut the convoy. “The sheer size of that tree…” Mumbled Jungle Trek from the cabin. “it must have been over a thousand years old!”  Dobbelsteen adjusted his sunglasses. “Eh, the weak should fear the explosive-capable-magical-unicorns. Sunrise Dare kicked some serious flank.” “Th-That’s Jungle Trek!” Yelled another whisper. Lucky Twirl’s eyes widened. “S-Sunrise Dare?!” Strawberry Cinnamon’s smile crept upon her face. “And-And I saw Wild Strikes! Wild Strikes is okay!” The prisoners inside the vehicle got to their feet and onto the benches as the vehicle moved, as Strawberry Cinnamon slammed her hooves on the cabin’s walls. “Jungle Trek, you’re alright?!”  The earth Pony yelled back. “We’re gonna regroup the Platoon at a rally point and refit from there! Is anypony injured?!” “No, No we’re all alright! Our injured ponies are stable!” Yelled Lucky Twirl, as the mood of the prisoners, ironically, shot up exponentially. Even Berry Twist has a smile on his face, as he was pulled into a hug by the pony next to him. Strawberry Cinnamon turned back, “Wait… who was that Griffon you’re with?” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- July 1st 1010,  02:58 2nd Platoon, Alpha Company, 2nd Fairflanks Militia 130 km North of Salt Lick City Within the vast expanse of the forest, the sounds of war still carried. Be they through the whistling wind that pushed through the trees as water does through a stream, or in the distant flashes of yellow light that illuminated the horizon, there could be no denying of its continued presence. Looking towards this horizon, rested Moerman. His wings had been pressed into his back and leaned against the base of a dark green Fir tree, identical to the thousands that dotted the rolling hills of his surroundings. His Griffon tail curled next to his hind legs, and his claws gently rested on the forest floor.  The tree itself rested atop a small hill, shrouded by the forest, yet still with a clear view of the surrounding nature, the distant road, and the horizon all around. Moerman’s lever action now rested on one of the tree’s surface roots, the lingering smell of gunpowder a reminder of hours ago.  Despite the horizon, no war could be heard by the Griffon. The forest was dead quiet, save for the swaying of the trees in the wind. Yet, it was not to last. Ascending the gradual incline of the hill, Jungle Trek’s light blue coat blended quite well with the general moonlight illumination, his hooves gently trotting along until reaching a stop no more than four paces from Moerman.  Taking off his helmet and shaking out his brown mane, his eyes looked out as well. “Still no activity along the roads?” He mumbled to himself. “I’d figure they’d be scrambling to find us by now.” The Griffon shook his head, his sunglasses trained in the same direction. “In the daytime, perhaps. Or in an environment with ease of access.” With his green uniform shrouded not only by the earthly colors of the trees and the shadows of the night, only his blonde feathers separated him from nature. “After a blow like that, I’d wager they’re still lost in the winding roads of this area.” Jungle Trek had somewhat of a smile at that. “I’d pay to see that.” His gaze glanced back down the hill, away from the road. “We did head quite a distance from the ambush site. Getting those vehicles into the woodline was tough.” “Better than on the road.” Adjusting his sunglasses, he reached for the ammunition bandoliers of his weapon and counted the rounds with his claw. “Even if they found them, our current distance to them acts as redundancy.” Jungle Trek’s gaze turned from the road and over to Moerman, a strand of his brown mane faltering over his green eye. Brushing it aside with his hoof, he spoke. “I wanted to thank you, Dobbelsteen.” His purple uniform found its blend not with the forest floor as Moerman’s green uniform did, but from the hue of the night sky.  “I’m sure the others will say the same once they’ve rested, but I truly mean it. You saved the lives of…well, a lot of my friends.” The Major looked up from his ammunition counting, getting a smile on his beak. “We, saved their lives, Jungle. Trusting me was your own personal decision, but your soldiers  followed your command, not mine. I’m sure the both of us are in for it when they wake.” The earth Pony shook his head. “I’m no commando, Major.” “But you are a soldier.” The Griffon said. “Being frightened, confused, worried, all of these things infest the mind of every soldier within war. Pushing through these emotions, you still managed to lead your squad to a place of safety. To reassess, recalibrate, and re-engage.” He shrugged his wings. “Good enough for me, I’d say.” Jungle only gave a small grin, his own lavender bolt action rifle slung across his back. With a deep breath, he glanced back towards the road. “Been about forty-five minutes of outlook, as you said. Time to turn in with the others.” Standing up, Moerman retrieved his rifle and bandoliers, setting off down the cliff. “Hey, Major?” Stopping to the side of the Griffon, Jungle Trek looked at him incredulously. “...Why are you here in the forest, anyway?” He looked at his uniform. “You’re half a world away from where you’re meant to be, it seems.” Holding the look between them for a moment, Dobbelsteen eventually glanced back up the hill towards the horizon, where the brief yellow illuminations of shells could be discerned through the clouds. “War is what I am, Trek. Practicing it, living it, perfecting it.” He looked back towards him. “I need nothing else. It’s what I understand inside and out.” With a turn, he continued down the hill with his rifle. “‘It’s why Twilight wrote me to come here in the first place.” Jungle Trek, walking alongside him, merely trotted towards the rest of his company before stopping in his tracks to stare at Moerman. “...You don't mean the Princess, right?”