//------------------------------// // No-Go Land Navigation // Story: The Adventures of Dobbelsteen Moerman // by TheDiceMan0407 //------------------------------// July 2nd 1010,  08:13 1st Platoon, Fairflanks Militia Remnants 142 km North of Salt Lick City “At a certain point we have to ask, right?” “Well, what did Trek say when you woke him up?” “He said, ‘Five more minutes’.” “After that.” If Moerman was sleeping before, he certainly wasn’t now. Raising his head ever slightly, he squinted at the light of the morning, whose morning glow seldom breached this shaded area of the forest. His wings were facing towards the hill that he positioned himself as lookout on the night before, and he himself was laid atop a collection of small, jagged rocks as if they were a mattress. His eyes eventually met those of no less than three dozen ponies, all tuning from each other over to him. With varying degrees of curiosity, each pony had in some way transfixed their gaze upon the Griffon. Fumbling his sunglasses onto his beak, he glanced down to the rocks, and then back up to the ponies. “...Is this everypony’s first time in the field?” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Our Company was to relink in the south-eastern portion of the forest, right along a river that leads into Salt Lick’s lake. Our Platoon was the last one out of Fairflanks and was thus caught while making our retreat to the forest. Until… you arrived.” Dobbelsteen Moerman’s right claw had rested under his chin the entire time that Jungle Trek spoke. Whether he was actually paying attention was just the hope of the blue-coated corporal, but he was nodding along behind those sunglasses of his. Continuing, Jungle took off his helmet with one hoof. “Yet, even if we were to have a map or a compass, we have no clue as to which of the hundreds of trails we’re currently on. In laymare’s terms, we’re lost, totally.” With the two ranking members of this platoon conversing in the center of the platoon, the remaining soldiers had been evenly spaced out, each laid flat on the forest floor and facing outwards. Some perched themselves behind rocks, to the sides of trees, and whatever cover could be had.  Approaching both leaders, Sapphire Stream, Sunrise Dare, and Yellow Rock all returned from varying points along the formation and took seats on the forest floor next to them. Yellow Rock’s sandy mane shone with the morning sun as she spoke. “All of our squads are covered.” Moerman glanced around himself. “Are their sectors of fire overlapping?” The three leaders nodded, with Sunrise Dare being the most boastful. “Indeed they are. Covered and concealed to the best of my abilities. Well… most are, anyway.” She said, glaring behind her. Jungle Trek turned his head. “Is… is Shooting Steps in a tree?” Out of her helmet, Sapphire Stream’s blue mane gently flowed down her back. “She said it gave her a vantage point.” She sighed. “It took Sunrise a bit to just leave her be.” “I’ll trust her decision.” Moerman then turned back to Jungle Trek, the creatures now in a circle, surrounding a patch of dirt. “How is Wild Strikes doing?” “Better,” said Jungle, “Now that she’s truly resting. Caramel Crunch has a small little section of the formation surrounded by natural vegetation, as a makeshift ‘resting’ area for her. He and Brisk have been making rounds of the formation to make sure everypony is doing alright.” Moerman’s gaze continued for a moment. “...How’s everypony else?” Jungle Trek only lowered his head. “...They want to know if the rest of the company made it.” With a pause in the conversation, the ears of everycreature twitched ever slightly, with a distant hum that could faintly be discerned throughout the skies. The eyes of everypony glanced upwards through the branches above, as the sounds of engines flowed through the valley. Trek swiveled his gaze all around. “Bombers?” “No, the engines aren’t loud enough. They’re reconnaissance planes.” Moerman stated, glancing back down. “No doubt looking for us and the rest of your company. Meeting up with them is an absolute priority if we want to stand a chance of keeping them from taking over the whole forest.” Sapphire shook her head, “But how? Disoriented like this, if we walk in a random direction, we could be heading straight for the Changelings. We’re practically stuck in a maze!” The Griffon raised his claw, slowly gesturing away from the group and towards the light of the shining sun that peered through the branches. “The sun rises in the east, and sets in the west.” He turned his body, his wings slightly flexing with the wind. “Facing north, East is on the right side, and if we’re to relink up in the South-east.” Coming to a stop with his navigation, his claw hovered in a direction that pointed parallel to the road that was on the other side of the hill the camp was hidden behind. “That way.” “Moerman.” “Yes, Jungle?” “You literally have a compass.” Glancing down towards his uniform, the small pouch of the Griffon’s breast pocket did indeed contain a compass, which the Griffon withdrew. Staring at the spinning dial of it for a moment, he slowly closed it and put it back. “...Magnets can malfunction.” “Didn’t you bring a map?” “Courtesy of Equestrian Military… intelligence.” Moerman simply sighed. “It’s dated in 958. It only shows the main road going through the forest. Not even the rivers leading to the lake are on it.” Jungle Trek’s head lowered in thought. “Even if we know our direction,” said Yellow Rock, “How can we be sure of where to truly go? We have no visual landmarks, and the trails are as Sapphire said, a maze. We have no idea of what to truly look for. Walking blind is hardly a good decision.” Dobbelsteen looked over to her, “Surely they must have given you all a route plan? A rendezvous point of some kind, easily identifiable?” Everypony only shook their heads in response, leaving Dobbelsteen to contort his face in utter bewilderment. “...Amazing.” Falling back into a more distant seating position, he turned his head downwards towards the ground and hardened his brow. His claw gently tapped the grass beneath him as he thought. In about 200 kilometers, Salt Lick City lay before him. The network of trails was bound to have some sort of direction that would lead him to the city, but could he really risk the lives of the Platoon on a scavenger hunt? Even then, the illusory rendezvous point isn’t at the city, but somewhere in between. How would he ever know where to find it? “Can’t we just head back towards Salt Lick City itself?” asked Sunrise Dare. “I mean, we can't go wrong with heading back towards the city and picking up some other ponies and doubling back. The city is what we’re meant to be protecting, aren’t we?” “It’d take too much time. Giving up the forest wouldn’t do us any favors either.” Moerman’s claw ran through the feathers on his neck. “Both ourselves and the operation at large have a better chance of fighting in the forest rather than the city.” Yellow Rock only grumbled. “Seems like the ‘Operation at Large’ is to leave us in the dust.” “The rivers.” Jungle Trek’s face brought a smile, as he looked over to Dobbelsteen. “Salt Lick City has an entire network of rivers flowing into it, following their streams is the direct path towards friendly forces.” Moerman only raised an eyebrow. “So what? It doesn’t give us anything more than a general direction any more than our current heading does. Even then, who knows the twists and turns the rivers will take if the unlucky strain we happen to pick doesn't run off somewhere unrelated?” “Except there’s only one north of Salt Lick.” Grabbing the map into his hooves from Moerman’s uniform belt, something which the Griffon took slight offense, he laid out the map. “It’s true that the map is terribly outdated, but it can still help us.” “What do you mean by one river?” Yellow Rock only squinted. “Out of a forest as large as this, you mean to say there’s only one around us?” “Only one that flows away from the lake.” Jungle Trek nodded. “Only one that cuts right through the South East. That’s where the Fairflank remnants ought to be, following the one major river that kept them bearing towards the South East.” Shifting his helmet back onto his head, he folded up the map.  “Shifting our heading towards the direct East, we should run right into the river.” Glancing up from his ramble, Jungle Trek was met with the mesmerized glance of Sunrise Dare, Yellow Rock, and Sapphire Stream. His hoof rested on the crook of his neck as he cleared his throat. “That’s where we’ll head.”  Now, the blue pony smirked. “Sounds good, Major?” It was at this moment that Moerman glanced down, noticing the cutie mark of Jungle Trek to be that of a map and compass. Some were just better at Land Navigation than others. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- July 2nd 1010,  06:13 2nd Night Guard Artillery Division Salt Lick City “There’s a citation from Grover the Second. Plans are nothing, but planning is everything. Something tells me Grover the Second’s conquest ended at Nimbusia because he could never appreciate a good timeline.”  Selenite’s expression soured, her gaze lifting up from her watch as the distant smoke of the train’s engine lit up with the morning rays of the sun, finally pulling into the station. “Apparently, neither can anypony else.” Bounding out of the train before it even came to a halt, a young bat pony, who despite his towering size over the shorter Selenite almost shrank before her as he came to a halt in front of her, began speaking. “Deepest of apologies, General.” The two officers glanced over, as railcars rolled out entire platoons, and small towed guns were dragged off the freight cars by bare hoof. “It was a whole mess, first the trains were blocked, then other divisions were prioritized in transport-” “Captain, there’s no point. If the fault isn’t laid on you, neither will my blame. That is reserved for a much more wealthy noblepony.” With a monotone glare, she nodded. “We’ve commandeered whatever vehicles we could find in the city. We’ll bring the whole division from here to the outskirts of Vanhoover by nightfall. If that demand cannot be met, you must inform me.” Adopting an expression of Steel, the Captain nodded. “Our country is under attack, General. Not just theirs. The Night Guard will deploy as you command.” Fighting a smile, Selenite turned. “I’ll telegraph Sentinel with the good news. Twenty minutes until step off on the street. See you then, Captain.” With an equal salute to each other, both officers parted ways. Though Selenite could not stop herself from taking a moment to glance back at the long train stopped at Salt Lick’s rail station. The train station itself wasn’t long enough to accommodate the whole line, and thus the Night Guard was dismounting on the grass and rapidly moving their tools of war onto the road. Six pounders tied to the most enthusiastic of the ponies, weapons slung around their bat pony wings, all moving with enthusiasm and purpose.  Even though the sun had just broken through the horizon, Selenite truly smiled. The Night Guard was here. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ducking his head behind the trench wall, once more sniper fire zipped through the air and landed into the dirt mounds behind Thunderbolt Sentinel. Dusting off his purple uniform, he met the eyes of a light gray-coated, regular soldier next to him. She seemed a lot more frightened than he was. “S-Sir, are you SURE being this close to the front is a good idea?”  Contrary to the slight shaking of the soldier, Thunderbolt rested against the wall of the trench, listening for more sniper fire. His bright black and yellow mane peeked out of his helmet, and his yellow coat blended well with the sun. He only shrugged. “It’d be safer not to, Private Arrow. Yet if not me, then who?” Rounding the corner of the trench system, another pony with a maroon coat and far more calm nerves met the eyes of the General. Holding his helmet close to his head with his hoof, he spoke. “General Sentinel, the scouting platoons have been dispatched against the Sniper. That should give us some wiggle room for the construction of the trenches.” “It’s quite alright, Sergeant Pine. This trench line is doing its job as a pioneering element. Let them take their shots at this one, our real defense is behind us.” Standing up, yet still covered by the trench wall, Sentinel gave a smile to the soldier, before returning to the Sergeant. “Any news from Selenite?” “Indeed, General.” His hoof reached into his uniform, pulling out a piece of paper and unfolding it. “Telegraph from Selenite no more than an hour ago. Her Night Guard has arrived in Salt Lick, and she promises to be able to render support by nightfall.” Tilting his head, Sentinel looked down at the telegraph. “...Well I certainly admire her enthusiasm, but I certainly doubt she’ll arrive before the Changeling attack. Their tanks aren’t more than a couple hours from this position at most, and that’s if they take their time. We’re only 150 km from Seaddle at this distance.” “Do you believe it’s wise to withdraw, General?” Sentinel shook his head. “Marshal Blueblood has strictly forbidden it.” Noticing the common soldier within range of the conversation, he turned his gaze over the rampart. “No matter. The hills aren’t much to work with, but the scouts I’ve deployed should give us an early warning system. Combined with Selenite’s reinforcements, we should give Vanhoover enough time and space to evacuate.” “Speaking of evacuating, General…” Pine only gestured with his hoof. “How about yourself?” “Oh, don't you worry Sergeant Pine. I’m sure Marshal Blueblood can handle rear security by himself.” He grinned at the two soldiers. “Besides, I must coordinate our maneuver plan should the Night Guard not arrive on time. I will be with you every step of the way.” With that statement, even the shaking soldier had a smile. As the General departed further into the trench system, the Sergeant only gave a glance as he trotted. “Sentinel is quite prideful of his trenches, isn’t he?” The soldier only shifted their gaze downwards, muttering in a low voice.“Do you really think we can hold them, Sergeant?”  With the forced smile now leaving Pine's face, he only shifted down to sit where the General sat moments before. “Well, none of us are all too sure about that. Sentinel’s defenses are some of the best in the world. “He gave a small shrug. “I sure feel a little safer with a pony like that on my side.” “What if we never get any reinforcements?” The light gray coated mare said. Arrow’s hooves lay close together in her lap, with her lavender bolt action rifle leaned against her shoulder. “If Selenite’s guns never show up, we’ll just be waiting to be overrun, won't we?” Her eyes remained holding contact with the Sergeant, leaning forward to ask another question. “...Is that what they put us here for?” The Sergeant paused. The two soldiers had both their thoughts interrupted by another crack of sniper fire, this time aiming further down the trench line, kicking up more sand. Adjusting his helmet, Pine only gave a nod of understanding to Arrow. “Maybe, Private. Maybe.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- July 2nd 1010,  14:00 13th Changeling Jaeger Division 201 km north of Salt Lick City Dark and cold like the pieces of tin and ribbon medals on his chest, Colonel Zellix of the Changeling Army regarded the papers before him with much the same feeling. His eyes were narrow, laser-focused between the lines of the report, his eyelids twitching slightly. His hooves tightly gripped the dirt underneath him, his jaw almost wired shut with contempt. Those words that managed to escape from his mouth were bitter, sharp, and full of rage. “Twelve Soldiers. A Platoon or so, routed and returning in pairs or alone.” He spat, shifting the papers in front of him on the chassis of the Tank before him. The sun had been obscured by clouds throughout the day, saving him from the persisting heat. He leaned back, hoping to not get the same mud caked on the tracks of the tank before him on his uniform. “With a loss of four vehicles.” Stacking the papers together, Colonel Zellix turned to his subordinate commanders, a scowl on his face. “Four vehicles. An embarrassing failure on your part, and now it's on mine.” He raised his hoof to point into the forest, the rest of his body shaking with anger. “The little border guards we faced were practically annihilated not two days before. You expect me to believe these fleeing soldiers, who were in custody, escaped and overpowered your soldiers?” An array of Lieutenants shifted nervously around Zellix and the tank. One of the tank’s crew, the commander, slowly closed the hatch to prevent their involvement in the conversation. “Not only that, now you mean to inform me-” The wind cut him off for a moment, Zellix’s temper only avoided by the relief of a breeze it brought. At that moment, the officers only shifted under the glare of their superior, waiting for him to speak again. “These previously routed enemies have evaded your searches, to the point where the very advancement of our front is slowed.” One Lieutenant cleared her throat, blinking her eyes up from the floor. “Colonel, the forest’s trails are a labyrinth. Advancing at a deliberate speed as we are at were your orders.” “Only if we suffered resistance, Lieutenant.” Zellix snarled. “Which, thanks to you all, we now are.” With a huff, the Changeling folded up the map. “Forget what I said before. We are advancing through this forest at whatever pace I set; our front cannot slow in comparison to Vanhoover. Send patrols further into the forest and find the remnants before they can regroup.” With a pause, Zellix shifted his gaze through the officers. “That means NOW!”  With that bitter yell, dust was kicked up under the hooves of the three officers. In different directions they went, whether to disseminate the orders of Colonel Zellix or simply to hide from him, nopony could be sure. Even the tank crew shrunk away from their windows at the sound of the order. The angered look did not leave the Colonel’s face as he trotted away from the tank, casting glares between the reports in his hoof and whatever soldier of his was unlucky enough to be within his sight.