//------------------------------// // Everypony Wants To Rule The World // Story: The Adventures of Dobbelsteen Moerman // by TheDiceMan0407 //------------------------------// August 4th 1010, 06:32 Vesalipolis Capital of the Changeling Lands The placement of the spire, piercing the sky far above any other building, was an adamant demand of Queen Chrysalis. It had to be in the center, merely one piece of her territorial fantasy. How it uprooted the city, sticking out like a blade that embedded itself into the city was fitting, as it was indeed the source of all of its pain. Her eyes happily devoured the sight of the capital, never stopping to rest under the overcast, cloudy days or the pitch-black darkness of the terrible night. Just as it was before she went to bed, so too did she see the city at work as she rose. It was on the clock, exhausting itself for her war, as the piercing tower of Vesalipolis cast it all into eternal shadow, shielding it from the faint glow of the sunrise. The city was desolate, depressing, surrounded by the black smoke of factories pouring out of its many hives. Chrysalis didn’t care. Her tower was in the center, and that’s what mattered. “The infrastructure lining the coast of Equestria has served as our own personal highway.” A voice stated, from the dark room behind her. “It's a shame it will run out soon. I was beginning to have fun just driving around them.” Turning away from the windows, Chrysalis brought her attention to the room, not feeling a need to hold her insidious laugh down. “I may snatch victory from those ponies faster than I did from the Deer. They’ve put up the same sort of fight.” She grinned. “Not one at all.” Hivesmarschall Trimmel’s uniform glistened with the shine of a dozen medals upon his uniform, bringing some semblance of light into the dark, dreary halls of the tower. “Let them cut and run, if they truly desire it. With the capture of Las Pegasus, we will bypass the Unicorn Range mountains, and southern Equestria will open up to my divisions.” He straightened his uniform, his gaze casting off to the side. “Tanks may have some obstacles on the approach, as the terrain is -” Chrysalis’ gaze narrowed. “Excuses will not -” “You will receive excuses from Roland, perhaps,” Trimmel stated, catching the Queen by surprise. He didn’t even flinch under her. “Not me. I am simply comforting myself with the freedom of movement Las Pegasus will provide my forces.” Hivesmarschal Trimmel stopped, bringing his eyes and sinister smile to his Queen. “And the glory it will provide to you.” Now, the grin upon Chrysalis’ face returned. “Success is always something I can expect from you, Hivesmarschal. Indeed… with their prized luxury city in my hooves,” She drew his gaze and her right hoof upward. For dramatic effect or out of pure passion, is unknown. “Pure despair will infect each and every pony in all of Equestria!” Her triumphant decree echoed up into the high ceilings of the Castle, twisting itself up its spires and out into the air. It tore into the sky and down into the streets of Vesalipolis, and the frightening visions of conquest were, to Chrysalis, enlightened glimpses of her triumph. Hivesmarschal Trimmel wasn’t nudged out of his thoughts, gazing to his left. “Our main effort has concentrated on Las Pegasus, but we do not stand idle in other theaters of the war. Fierce resistance has been met on the border of the Crystal Empire, but their lands are largely unimportant. The real question lies in the Equestrian plains.” Queen Chrysalis averted her eyes back down, and then up to the left where Trimmel was looking. Both their gazes settled on a vast illustration, a map that clung itself to the stone walls of the tower, deep blue sections of the continent carved to symbolize the Changeling Empire, and the advancement of her forces. The swift Blitz of Trimmel’s tanks was depicted, as was the conquest of Olenia in the West and the fierce battle in the Crystal Empire. Noticeably, however, a chunk of the Equestrian border was left untouched. “We avoided much of the main effort from those plains. Its lacking industrialization makes it a hard target for my armored forces, be it the far-stretching plains, rolling hills, or the forests and swamps, we’ve left it untouched past our seizure of Salt Lick City.” Queen Chrysalis tilted her head. “I see no reason we cannot seize these areas in conjunction with yours.” “It may not be as swift.” “Yet it would happen.” The Queen gave a smile to Trimmel. “It will, as I have decreed it. They may not be as powerful as your lovely tanks, but our Jäger battalions are especially suited for such treacherous territory.” She gave a shrug to her trusted general. “They proved themselves in their swift crossing of the border at Fairflanks.” Trimmel tilted his head but gave a nod of approval. “Additionally, in their raids against the Equestrian’s defensive lines around Tall Tale…” He looked up. “Excellent news, my Queen. I wasn’t sure they would be up for an additional deployment after their assignment to Roland.” “Colonel Zellix commands the Jägers, he was merely tagging along with General Roland. I’m not too sure about his temper, his leadership, his bravery…” She stopped, letting Trimmel lean in to hear the final words. She let out a low, sinister laugh. “But I am quite a fan of his brutality. I want to hear all about it in Yonderhill.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- August 4th 1010, 06:33 50km South-West of Salt Lick City Headquarters, 13th Changeling Jäger Division “Our battalions are near their full strength, sir.” One officer stated. Another countered. “Our battalions are special battalions, a normal division numbers ten thousand at least.” She adjusted her cap, signifying her to be that of a Sergeant Major. “We hover near three.” “The number is meaningless.” Spoke a voice within the Command tent, one that sharply cut the attention of all present. A dozen or so officers and senior non-commissioned leaders gathered and now cowered, before the officer at the head. “A division may be the appropriate size to achieve this maneuver for a normal outfit. We are not a normal outfit.” Colonel Zellix’s eyes hardened. “Jägers own these forests, these…” His hoof faltered, gesturing to the treacherous terrain marked out on the map sprawled out between them. “Obstacles…” His glare rose to pierce his subordinates. “It may cause Trimmel to turn elsewhere, Roland to stop, and most any other officer to avoid it. Not I. If these ponies want to cower, it is my job as the metaphorical Eagle to drag them kicking and screaming from their holes, like rats to the slaughter.” The Sergeant Major looked around, before taking a deep breath. “Sir, this entire environment is against us. We may be well trained, but our logistics will be impossible to handle -” “Impossibility is the excuse of the weak, Sergeant.” Zellix’s voice and gaze grew bitter. “But it's something to consid-” Zellix slammed his hooves down onto the table, causing both the pencils on it and the attendants around it to jump. “CONSIDER…” His intense, yet viscous voice poured out from his throat in a faint growl of displeasure, as he twisted his head from one leader to another. “our mission. Yonderhill is the target, and the ponies will HIDE behind it until we seize it. The Queen herself wishes for its capture, and not ONE of you feels a call to satisfy her demand?” Silence gripped the soldiers in the tent. “I…” Zellix said, leaning back and regaining his breath. “have a mission. The cowardice of you ‘leaders’, so-called, will not stand in the way of it. If the ponies want to cower, we will hunt them. The Jägers will burn their forests, roll over their streets, and blast any opposition to that end.” The Sergeant-Major stood as still as her fear would allow her. Her eyes stuck close to the ground, not daring to look back up, for fear of the monster before her. “Is that clear… to ALL in attendance?” She only nodded quickly, as did the rest of the room. Colonel Zellix looked at his subordinates with further disgust, before his hoof gripped the pistol off of the table and slid it back into the holster on his side. He looked back down to the map, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses back up to his eyes. “If they wish to play the hunted,” He snarled, placing his Officer’s cap on top of his silver hair… “I will all too eagerly play the hunter.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- August 4th 1010, 12:34 Griffenheim, Capital of the Griffonian Empire “A month.” He said, his gaze still locked onto the papers in front of him on his desk, and a claw gently tapping upon it in thought. “I haven’t had word from that Griffon in over a month.” Peering out the window of Gerlach’s study within the Imperial Palace, Gabriela Eagleclaw just gave a small shrug. “If the Empire had an idol for each time Dobbelsteen Moerman followed orders, you realize nothing about our situation would change, correct?” Gerlach lifted his eyes, though only one was in a good condition to look at her. “You’re lucky sarcasm is one of many things that I fell in love with.” Now she turned her gaze away from the window, eyes narrowed. “You say that about everything I do.” Her husband shrugged and went back to work. Rolling her eyes, though not without a smile, Gabriela fully turned to face Gerlach, leaning on the window. “You and I both knew he wouldn’t be content to stay in the capital. I told you as such.” She brought up one of her wings to enunciate her point. “It’s why we sent him, and none of the others.” “Just hope I hear something from him soon.” Gerlach gently leaned away from the desk and stood up onto his paws and claws. As he raised his wing to push the chair in, he met Gabriela’s gaze. “This war may be the most important of our history. The technology, tactics, who knows who could learn from it.” His tone of voice was gradually working itself up, before with a heavy sigh, it wound back down to his usual, soft voice. “Who knows what they could use against him...” Gabriela leaned off the wall, a coy smile on her beak. “You never stop worrying about him, do you?” “Stones and glass houses, Gabriela, you’re worse than I am,” Gerlach stated, coming around his desk, as the two Griffons, and two rulers of the Griffonian Empire, met in the center of the study room. “Dangerous doesn’t begin to describe it. There is no such thing as being over-prepared.” Gabriela shrugged. “We’ll have to be satisfied with Twilight’s correspondence as of now, Gerlach. There’s no use in worrying about things we cannot control.” She said, as her claw dug into one of her pockets and retrieved a small notebook. “As for things in our control, Grover should be done with his lessons in fifteen minutes..” She continued to list off things, her claw pointing them out as she went. “Kogchel made a big speech about how great the both of us are after the housing program -” Her husband winced, “I really don't want them to be called ‘Gerlach-blocks’. At all.” She tilted her head, “It’s not the official name, just what… every creature calls them… in the press, on the street -” She cut herself off. “They all say good things! They all have a home, and it was your idea. It’s a term of endearment.” She said, her eyes meeting his with a reassuring twinkle. “Darling, seriously, they’re fantastic, you practically took years off your life perfecting the idea.” Gerlach didn’t say anything for a moment. “...Don’t hold eye contact with me for that long, I may faint.” Gabriela brought up her wing to cover her laugh, before nudging him with her wing. “Come on, we’ve got a lot more things to sort through.” She held open the door to his study for him. “Oh, and you know Count Francis, in Francistria?” “There are nine of them.” Gabriela rolled her eyes. “The one that’s alive, Gerlach.” Yet, she smiled as the door closed behind him. “He’s being married next month, to a Griffoness Noblelady named Bianca. We’ve all been invited to their wedding.” A look of surprise flashed across Gerlach’s face. “...Him? Francis the Ninth? The Griffon who stutters every word?” He actually got a small smile at that. “Good for him.” Gabriela smirked, as she brought her notebook back into her pocket. “Seems I started a fever that’s going around. Shy Griffons seem to be all the rage this summer.” The Pink Griffon cast her eyes over to her husband. “Good thing I got you before anygriff else did.” Gerlach couldn’t hold down a smile breaking his usual stoic demeanor, yet he still tried. “...I don’t see harm in attending.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- August 4th 1010, 06:35 Canterlot, Capital City of Equestria War Room With no meeting scheduled this early in the morning, Constant Vigilance was given a small shock of surprise when the heavy doors pulled apart, the halls of Canterlot Castle echoing the distinct hoof steps of Princess Celestia, accompanied by none other than Twilight Sparkle. Celestia smiled softly. “I hope you don’t mind me bringing along my most faithful student.” Though he was leaning forward over the large conference table, Constant’s gaze had to be pulled away from the shining, stained glass windows to acknowledge the two Princesses. With a deep nod, he answered. “My protests would mean very little.” Twilight gave a confused glance over to Princess Celestia, the two of them trotting forward to the table. In a gesture of reassurance, Celestia gave a brief nudge of her wing to her student’s side, as she responded. “Your protests would probably be the only one which would mean something. That's why I’m here.” Now it was Constant’s turn to smile. “Here I thought you were checking up on an old friend.” Celestia feigned offense, though not keeping her laugh down. “I can do two things at once.” Twilight Sparkle managed to grow a small smile among their company, “I think this is the first time I’ve entered this room and not been scared out of my skin. It can get pretty noisy in here, with all of those ponies in one room.” Celestia let out a chuckle, “Not just ponies, Twilight.” Though, as she brought her gaze back up across the table, her laughter slowly drifted off. Twilight’s did as well. Constant’s eyes were back on the windows and in a haze. Not really focused on the windows themselves, or anything in particular. His eyebrows were narrowed in thought, yet he didn’t seem to be thinking of anything. His pupils shifted only slightly, but quickly. Only one of his eyes was scarred, yet both of them were blinded at this moment. Closing them didn’t block out the visions he experienced either, as the old, gray Earth Pony calmed his breathing. Celestia leaned forward, slight worry in her voice. “Are you alright, old friend?” Vigilance nodded, bringing his gaze back down to the map. “Yes, Princess. Worrying is my job, not yours.” He said, with an unconvincing smile. “It’s hard to remain in here when the fight is out there.” Twilight tilted her head. “You’ve fought for Equestria on more occasions than most ponies. Ones most would hardly even know of.” She gave a look to Celestia, “And, being charged with the defense of Canterlot is very important! I know I couldn’t do that.” “If I have to perform that job, Twilight, we may have already lost,” Constant said, not taking his eyes off the map. It was clear that the words of the Major had struck the heart of the older Earth Pony as he continued, “From here, it can be interpreted as a numbers game. It's why I don’t blame many of those in attendance for acting the way they do. We can send however many ponies, weapons, and equipment we can to whatever area of this map we desire.” He shook his head. “You can’t get the full picture from here.” “Yonderhill could be how we turn this around, Constant,” Twilight said. “If we can win there, we can stop the Changelings from advancing in that area, and focus everything we can on Las Pegasus. We can buy ourselves time to…” She lost her words as she talked through it, huffing in frustration. “If we win, Twilight.” Constant turned to Celestia. “I truly believe we encounter the difficulties we have in this war because of our attitude towards war. We know nothing of it, and the few of us that do never want to speak about it.” He gave a small shudder. “I know I don't. Many of us refuse to even try to learn it.” Celestia tilted her head. “You speak of my nephew?” “I speak of them all, Princess.” Constant sighed, pausing to think on his words. “The truth is, Princess, we’re taking quite a gamble with Yonderhill. It’s our only option, but you must understand that this will be vicious, chaotic, and Yonderhill will be unrecognizable after it.” His eyes leveled on the two Princesses. “In a fight as desperate as this, you cannot let the defense of the city be commanded from inside this building.” “Applejack and Pinkie Pie are on their way to Yonderhill,” Twilight said, “But the two of them aren’t soldiers. My friends…” She breathed a shaky sigh. “I worry about them a lot, Princess.” She said to Celestia. “A whole lot.” Taking in the worried gaze of Constant, and the breaking emotional wall of her student, Celestia cast her gaze off to the side to think. “...I worry for them too, Twilight. I know they’ll come back safe. I hope all of my ponies will.” As her flowing mane caught the sun’s light through the windows of the Castle, Celestia armored herself again with stoicism. “I know they will. My Little Ponies have their friends to protect. That’s all they need.” Twilight Sparkle, comforted by the words of Celestia, looked back to Constant. “We can win this. I know we can, but… we hardly have any experience in this. Applejack is a farmer, Pinkie Pie is a party planner. My friends and the ponies I met who find themselves on this front are some of the most wonderful I’ve ever met, but… they aren’t soldiers.” With those piercing, worried words by Twilight, Constant Vigilance was able to snap himself out of his trance, straightening himself and his posture. “I know a fair deal of being a soldier, Twilight. A battlefield is a chaotic, disorganized mess with confusion reigning supreme.” On those words, his visions returned in the slightest, but he shook them away. “Not always, though. In a group of soldiers, you may have those confused, those scared, those frightened out of their minds, plagued by the thought they won't leave alive. It can rule supreme, these horrible emotions, and lead all of them to their death.” Twilight followed the gaze of Celestia down to the board. Pieces that symbolized divisions and cities were more than the wood they were made of. Each represented ponies, her ponies, and there weren’t as many of them on the board today as there was yesterday. “It doesn’t have to be that way,” Constant said. “All it takes is one. Any soldier can pierce through that cloud and lead them through that haze of death.” He trotted slowly around the table, standing beside Twilight, with Celestia on the other side. “One warrior on the battlefield will be worth more than ten thousand of these Jägers.” Twilight looked to Constant. “One Griffon can’t possibly make that much of a difference. He can’t win a battle on his own.” “He’s the only one who knows that.” Constant gave a small smile. “You may think they’re responsible for all victory, planning everything down to minute details and masterminding it all, but that goes out the window after the first shot. It’s why I detest being in this castle, but it's also why I have confidence in the outcome of this battle, at least more than the rest.” Princess Celestia locked eyes with Constant. “...I put a lot of faith in my ponies, and even more in this officer. At your recommendation, and upon yours, dear Twilight.” She gave a brief nod of her head. “I trust the both of you but… how can you be sure, old friend? It seems ludicrous to ask this much of them.” Constant’s hoof was brought up, rubbing at his scarred eye before placing it back down. “Unprofessional, yes. Lacking customs and courtesy, undoubtedly. But there’s a care in that soldier. He understands an Officer is concerned with only two things.” His gaze drifted back towards the map, towards the small dot that symbolized the city of Yonderhill. “How to fight, and if necessary, how to die.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- August 4th 1010, 06:36 Shire Theater Moerman’s Reorganized Forces Thirty-Five minutes until movement to Yonderhill How everypony fit in this auditorium, is a question for the reader, not the author. It was packed. Those lucky enough to find seats watched either in slight sinister enjoyment or pity as their comrades were forced to either stand at the back of the now-closed theater or be one of the unlucky ones who laid down with their hooves outstretched in the walkways that cut between the sections of seats. Three sections, with each holding a platoon of ponies. At least, as much as it could hold. Lucky Twirl was among the few unlucky without a seat, but her eyes were laser-focused on the stage. Off to the side, arriving a little late, sporadic visitors from the Night Guard Artillery detachment also intermingled with the crowd. Their dark, neatly pressed uniforms were often a quiet topic of discussion and good-natured jealousy among the rest of the room. “There are three things that cause you to die in battle,” Moerman said aloud, turning back to the seats. “Does anypony wanna take a guess as to what they are?” Worried mumbles, glances, and breathing, but no hooves. “...I have candy.” A lot of hooves went up in the air. “Yes, Sunrise Dare?” Shooting up out of her seat, she exclaimed. “The enemy!” Moerman sighed, “Y-Yeah, I mean…” He sighed, pushing his sunglasses up his beak. “More so, abstract concepts.” She sunk back into her seat, mumbling over to Shooting Steps. “What a nerd.” “Swift Roller?” Standing at the back of the small theater, the logistical officer held up her cap as a way of raising her hoof. “Preparation!” “Uh…” Dobbelsteen shrugged, “warmer, but that’s talking about a mission. We’re focusing on you all as individuals right now.” Under his uniform, the collar of his floral-button down shirt stuck out around his neck, as the Griffon paced the small stage. “Think of things that you can do, or things that affect you.” Shooting Steps rose, “Luck.” Dobbelsteen pivoted, with a smile on his face. “Now we are getting somewhere. That’s exactly right!” He turned to address the wider audience. “An artillery shell, a grenade, where a Changeling just happens to fire wildly. There are many factors that are 100% out of your control in a fight that can give you an untimely demise through no fault of your own.” He reached into the pocket of his uniform and prepared to throw a small mint. Shooting Steps stammered. “N-No, I don’t want any cand -” The mint hit her in the muzzle, and she sat back down with the glare. Her hooves still unwrapped it, though, much to the jealousy of Sunrise Dare next to her. “Major Maerman, sir?” Dobbelsteen mumbled, with a dejected sigh. “Is my name really that hard to -” He let it go, “Uh, yes, Caramel Crunch?” Near the front of the auditorium, and sitting right next to Wild Strikes, Caramel’s quiet voice felt no opposition in the quiet theater. “Doesn’t that mean that… we can’t really control if we get hurt?” Bringing up a claw, Moerman was a lot happier than the rest of the room, who were now positively worried. “Hold that thought. What’s another factor? What’s the WORST thing you can do if somepony is shooting at you?” He paused for a moment. “...Shooting Steps is not allowed to answer this question.” Her glare intensified, her hoof coming back down. “...I knew the answer, too.” Sunrise sighed. “At least you got a mint.” Sapphire Stream grinned, standing up from her spot in the walkways between the seats. “Freezing!” Snapping his claw into a gun, Moerman nodded. “Exactly. One of the most common responses to sudden, imminent danger among those not trained, is to freeze. Confusion, shock, a whole list of things can overload our brains and lock us in place.” He addressed the whole auditorium now. “The absolute worst decision you can make is no decision at all. Get down to the ground, run away, shoot back, curl up in a ball, and sob if you have to -” Laughter was started throughout the crowd, even all the way in the back, as Swift Roller nodded to the pony at her side, Strawberry Cinnamon. “That’s probably what I’d do.” The Griffon continued. “Just… don't freeze. I’d rather you make a wrong decision than be dead. So, if the things that lead to our demise are concepts rather than single decisions, we have luck, we have making no decision at all…” He stopped his pacing on the stage. “...What’s one thing that's bigger than them all? These two only make up ten percent of deaths. What triumphs both of them?” Ponies in the crowd looked around at each other. Sapphire Stream mumbled. “Wait… am I gonna get a piece of candy?” Caramel leaned over, “...Bad medics?” Wild Strikes glared back, nudging him in the side with a smirk. “We have a pretty good one.” “STUPIDITY!” One voice called out, catching the attention of the whole room. Selenite had to jump to be seen, being shorter than most of the ponies around her, but her piercing voice did most of the work for her. “Preventable, nonsensical actions that most of us wouldn’t do in a sane state of mind, but we do not think about when we are full of adrenaline!” Silence simmered in the auditorium, glances exchanged between the Night Guard detachment, as Dobbelsteen stood still. “I’m not giving you any candy, Selenite.” “I EARNED it!” With a roll of his eyes, the laughter of the ponies throughout the theater, and the cheers of the Night Guard for their commander, Dobbelsteen adopted a perfect, hand-grenade throwing pose to launch a mint squarely into Selenite’s hoof. Oh, and he threw one to Sapphire Stream as well. Better late than never. “Though that may sound like a personal attack, she’s entirely right,” Dobbelsteen said, bringing up his wing to gesture to the crowd. “when all of you are under the stress of combat, you think differently. Certain things don't apply, we rely on our basest impulses. In most cases, it keeps us alive. But it cannot run our minds.” He brought his wing down. “We must control it. Listen to it, but understand we are its master.” Murmurs went through the crowd. “But what does this mean, really mean…” He said, stopping and pivoting on his paws and claws to point at everypony's favorite medic. “Caramel Crunch?” Standing back upon his hooves, the young medic now noticed the many pairs of eyes upon him. His eyes kept drifting downward in front of him, before a gentle nudge to his side, from his ever-present friend Wild Strikes, raised them. Her smile gave him comfort, enough comfort to look back to his commander and speak. “Uhm… if freezing and luck is only a small part,” He said, “that means that most of it is our decisions. We, on average, can control whether we…” He took a deep breath. “...die.” The theater was left clinging on to Caramel’s final word, their gazes shifting uncomfortably from the medic to the Major. Dobbelsteen Moerman brought up a claw to straighten his uniform, giving a nod to Caramel. “Outstanding, Caramel. That’s exactly right.” Bringing up his blonde-feathered wing, he used it to gesture to the board. “Luck and freezing are minor compared to our own decisions. Training, discipline, and practice tackle 90% of death.” He stood straight before his soldiers. “In an average outfit, 90% of deaths are preventable.” In the eyes of the soldiers before him, worry and fear gripped them. Breathing had all but stopped. “We are not an average outfit.” Dobbelsteen Moerman went down the line, his sunglasses seeming to maintain contact with everypony at once. “Preventable deaths are preventable, and that is precisely what we will accomplish. You are all in one unlucky state, but if it weren’t an uphill battle, Griffenheim would not have sent me.” Whispers arose from the crowd. “...Is…Is he really from the Empire?” Asked one pony. Another responded. “Jungle Trek said Celestia sent him here..” The Major continued. “You were abandoned by your officers before, and you have fallen under my command. Abandonment will not happen again. I’m sure you all have been well aware of the coming engagement at Yonderhill. Jäger forces, the best of the Changeling infantry, will come to bear down upon it. We will be there to meet them. The High Command, The Princesses, and all of Equestria depend on this battle. I depend upon you.” Silence filled the auditorium, with Moerman taking a pause in his words. They straightened, those ponies in the seats, in the back, resting upon the floor. Each strained forward to hear even the softest mutter from the Griffon. “In war… soldiers die. I have been to Cloudbury. I have been to Griffonstone.” He straightened his posture. “I have fought the pirates of Haukland, the bandits of Blackrock, I led the best of soldiers against the worst of creature kind in Hellquill. I have never ended a deployment with the same numbers as I began with.” The room was frozen. Dobbelsteen brought up his claw, taking off his sunglasses. His blue eyes met those of the ponies in front of him. “I will do everything in my power to bring you all home. I will train you. I will fight with you. Be you alive or dead, I will never leave you. Going forth, I will impart upon you the experience that only a dozen wars, conflicts, and a dozen more that will never show up in history books will show. I can train you into the finest soldiers Equestria has known, and will ever know.” Practically everypony was on the edge of their seat, the ponies who had knelt down to give an unobstructed view to their friends couldn’t help the urge to sit up straighter and taller. “My training will prevent 90% of your deaths. Who here knows how to prevent 100% of them?” Stepping out from the assembly of ponies in the back, Jungle Trek held his helmet in his right hoof, with his rifle slung across his back. The Earth Pony raised his helmet high in the air, announcing to a watchful crowd: “By killing every bug you see!” Worry dissipated, and fear was annihilated, as strength and determination rose in the soldiers assembled in the closed-down theater, with sporadic cheers and whistles of agreement rose. Their gazes returned to the Major, who smiled at the words of his friend. “I know the kind of war Chrysalis thinks she will wage. A swift conquest. An easy fight. She marches her forces straight for us because of her own reality in which we do not fight back.” He looked down at his soldiers. “A reality which will shatter like glass.” Smiles rose among the crowd, as conversations spread out between them. Wild Strikes leaned over. “Hey, we’re going to be fine.” She held out a hoof to Caramel. “Promise.” Caramel brought his own hoof up. “Emphasis on we, right Wild?” She laughed. “Oh, have a little more faith in me than that. Somepony’s gotta make sure anypony who messes with you is as good as dead.” Sunrise Dare looked over to Shooting Steps. “We can do this, right?” The sniper, reserved as always, kept her gaze forward. “Somepony has to stop the Changelings.” She couldn’t hold down a smirk. “I don't mind being one of the first to do it.” As resolve settled over the crowd, Selenite’s Night Guard expectantly looked to their commander, as she brushed her silvery mane behind her eyes. She gave a smile to Moerman on the stage, with a nod, one that he returned. Soon, the room returned their eyes back to him, as the Griffon picked his Officer’s cap up from where it rested, hanging off the chalkboard. “It will be hard, ponies. The training will be intense. Years of experience will be instilled in days. But know that it is possible. You and I have the opportunity to participate in the greatest battle of Equestria’s history. I won’t be able to guarantee your survival, nor my own.” He paused, as he placed his sunglasses back upon his beak, and brought his Officer’s cap back onto his head. The acceptance of his own death brought the room to hang on his final words, words which brought the whole room into a determined rage. They wanted what he promised, something that breathed new life into Equestria’s struggle for survival. Dobbelsteen smiled and gave a promise. “But I can show you the best way to die.”