//------------------------------// // 2, Minty // Story: Pony Tankers // by Michael Spruce //------------------------------// Minty rose before dawn the next day. She crawled out of her sleeping bag, made an unsuccessful attempt at managing her permanently messy mane, and buttoned on her uniform jacket. Before climbing over the other sleeping ponies in the tent, she rolled up her things and concealed several mousetraps around the pouches. Then, she strategically set bits of twig and pebbles around those traps, so that she would know if anyone had touched her pack later, and where. She stepped out of the tent and yawned; it felt like it was going to be another hot day. Couldn’t those pegasi see their way to forgetting to manage a few more rainclouds? Her body itched for a coffee and a cigarette as she made her way through the D Company’s area to the tank. When she reached it, the bright grey paint shining dimly in the predawn darkness, she climbed onto the mud guard and tried to open the loader’s turret hatch. It was locked. She tried the gunner’s turret hatch, and found it also locked. She tapped the hatch lightly with a forehoof. No response. “Open up, soldier, nightmare take you!” she hissed, banging on the hatch as loudly as she dared. She heard a groan and a shuffling sound from inside, and then heard the latch sliding and Cashmere appeared, blinking. Minty glared at her. Forget saving her cigarettes for later, she needed one right now. “Wake up, soldier. Get your blankets out of the tank before the commander wakes up,” she barked. “And don’t ever lock the hatches again. I let you to sleep in it, not live in it. Suppose something happened and we all needed to wait for you to let us in?” “S-sorry, ma’am,” Cashmere squeaked. “I won’t do it again.” Rather than rebuke her directly, Minty decided to take a different approach. “You know, I can always tell the commander what you’ve been doing,” she said, casually, “and tell her I only just found out. She would believe me.” Cashmere visibly paled in the darkness and disappeared inside, and Minty heard her rustling around as she packed as fast as she could. When she climbed out, tugging her pack behind her, Minty stopped her with an upraised hoof. “Ah-ah-ah. I can’t let you go without a disciplinary measure. Do you still have that pack of cigarettes I lent you?” Cashmere’s eyes darted around briefly. She swallowed and said, “Lent? No, I… Traded it for some sugar.” Minty suddenly grabbed Cashmere by the collar and pulled her close; she lost her grip on the pack, which fell like a sack onto the ground. The pink mare was terrified; her lip began to quiver. “You’re a bad liar,” Minty said evenly. She let the trembling mare go, coming away with the pack in her hoof and stashing it in a pocket. Minty didn’t much like government cigarettes, which was why she had been giving them to Cashmere the last week she had known her, but she had to do something meaningful here. If Cashmere didn’t wise up before she was caught, she could lose her position and end up back in the infantry - and Minty knew too well what the survival rate there was. “Go and get yourself something to eat. Get something for the commander, too – she’s going to be hungry when she wakes up.” Whether she likes it or not, Minty added privately. “After that, I want you to go find wherever Supercharger’s gone.” “But she’s not gone, she’s right over there on those crates…” Cashmere said. Minty turned and looked where Cashmere pointed. The grey pegasus, nearly invisible in the predawn darkness, had pushed together three crates of ammunition for the company’s short-barreled seven-and-a-half centimeter cannons and laid a ratty wool blanket over it. She was sprawled out, sound asleep, snoring softly. Her uniform jacket pooled unbuttoned around her on the crate and her normally folded and hidden wings flopped freely out on either side of her. Minty opened the cigarettes; about a quarter were missing already, but it couldn’t be helped. She plucked one out, lit up, shook her head, and turned back to Cashmere. “She will be,” she said simply. / - / - / - / - / The morning passed as it had for the past several days. Summer and Supercharger both rose with the coming of the dawn and found Minty already awake nearby and watching the sky. Cashmere returned from mess, carrying a tin of gruel, and Summer wolfed it down hungrily. She looked, to Minty, like she wanted more, but she handed the tin back to Cashmere and retreated inside her tent. Supercharger mumbled something about eating at the mess herself and slipped off. Minty watched her go, taking note of the direction; the same as yesterday. After that, it was another morning of Summer alternating between sulking in her tent or pacing anxiously, and Cashmere hovering nearby when she had returned from her appointed mission. Minty was surreptitiously playing cards with the lads from tank no.7, strategically letting them win just enough she wasn’t losing bits, but not gaining too many either, when her pricked ears caught the distinctive rumble of dry track links and petrol engines approaching down the lane from outside the camp. They came rumbling into the space cleared for them, First Platoon followed by the rest of Third Platoon. The commanders, standing in their hatches, looked haggard and dusty. First Platoon parked in a ragged row on the opposite side of the cleared lane, and Minty moved back to a touch allow tank thirteen to pull in as Third Platoon parked. Then the crews began disembarking, the commanders trudging towards the command tent and the crewponies fetching necessities for their machines. The erstwhile players around Minty scrambled to put their cards down and help with the operation. Minty excused herself from the now empty table and flicked away the extinguished butt she had been mouthing on for the past half hour. The captain was about to order a new mission; it was time to go find Supercharger. “Wow, they don’t look very good, do they?” came Supercharger’s voice near her shoulder. Minty casually turned around, putting her poker face to good use to hide her surprise. “Decided to come back, eh?” she snipped. “Get tired of ‘visiting Turnip’?” “Nah,” Supercharger shrugged. “I should probably do something on it sometime, or the sarge will get suspicious. And it looks like I’m just in time, too,” she said, nodding at the no.11 tank, Sweet Tooth’s Dandy Cupcake. Before Minty could reply, Supercharger had moved away and hopped up on the engine deck. Minty decided to let it be. Instead, she walked over to Summer’s tent and paused. From within, she heard a sound all too familiar to her. There were times when even a good soldier should ignore protocol; she knocked on a tentpole and stuck her head in without any further warning. Summer instantly leapt up from her bedroll onto her hooves, grabbing her uniform jacket and throwing it over her back. Her hat was still on. She angrily wiped tears from her eyes and demanded, “What is it?” “The platoon is back, as I’m sure you know, ma’am. It would be expected of you to make yourself seen at the command tent.” Minty said, carefully giving no sign she had seen anything. Summer sighed heavily and nudged at her eyes with the back of her hoof. “Right. Of course,” she said, buttoning up her uniform jacket and strapping on her sidearm. Minty saluted and left the unicorn, to go find Cashmere. She thought it unlikely that the captain would order them, specifically, out on anything, with the engine gone kaput, but she needed to make sure everyone was on hoof and ready just in case. Stranger things had happened. Cashmere, as it turned out, was laying in the dirt under the tank, idly pushing around pebbles in front of her. “Hey. Get out here and get your things straight. We could be going next.” Cashmere looked up at her, blinking at the brightness outside. “But the engine isn’t fixed yet,” she said, “There’s no way they would pick us!” “Never count on it,” Minty told her. She smoked while she waited for Summer to return from the little meeting at the captain’s. Cashmere stood stiffly, and probably uncomfortably, to attention next to her hatch the entire time, and Supercharger was banging around noisily in the engine compartment. After a while, Minty told Cashmere to stand down. Finally, she spotted the young unicorn leaving the command tent. Summer walked with an unusual spring in her step, and held her head high. She seemed like she was in a much better mood, and Minty already knew the reason why. “Good news!” Summer said, addressing her crew, “We’re being sent into combat!” “What?!” Supercharger protested, in the middle of climbing out of the engine compartment. “But… the engine!” Minty held her tongue. “We can still move, can’t we?” Summer said. “We drove all the way back here under our own power, didn’t we?” “We did, but-” Supercharger began, but Summer cut her off. “I volunteered my tank to support an infantry offensive to the east. We only need to keep pace with infantry, something I felt us well capable of. When we get back, the captain says we’ll have all the parts we could need.” “T-that’s good, but-” “We leave in an hour. Dismissed.” Minty spoke up. “Wait a minute, ma’am. We’re missing someone important.” Summer tossed her head dismissively. “Yes, I am aware. Turnip should be recovered enough when we get back.” Before Minty had been in the army, she would have facehoofed. “We are missing a loader, ma’am. Trust me, you are going to need all your awareness on this operation, and I can’t shoot the gun when I have to get up to load it.” Summer seemed sightly taken aback. “Well, perhaps we could beg somepony off another crew in the company?” Minty looked around slowly at the worn-out tankers around them, many missing crew of their own, and at the relatively fresh ones, also missing some crew, helping them. “It wouldn't hurt to try.” Supercharger, who had been visibly fretting in silence, suddenly perked up. “Ooh, ma’am, I have an idea! I know the perfect pony for the job!” Summer turned to her with interest. “Do you now? Who are they?” “He's an infantrypony with the 57th hoof reserve. Just go to their area on the west end of camp and ask the captain there for Thrash Metal.” Minty didn’t like where this was going, but she held her tongue. “Splendid, that's that trifle solved, then!” Summer said. She then snapped into her “orders” mode, and started rattling off instructions. “Corporal Supercharger, make sure we’re able to move in an hour. Enlisted Cashmere, see to it that we have all the supplies we need for a week out. Corporal Twist and I will go and see about recruiting this fellow.” When she finished, she turned her back on them all and started walking briskly away. “Why is she walking the wrong way?” Cashmere asked, confused, into the vacuum of silence between them the sergeant left behind her. Minty winced, but Summer was thankfully out of earshot. “She wants to get her things from the officer’s lounge," she told Cashmere. "Make sure you get us enough to last for two weeks, alright?” As Minty hurried away to catch up with Summer, she heard Cashmere say, “But the officer’s lounge isn’t that way either…” Minty caught up once the command tent hid them from view. She turned Summer in the right direction, earning a grateful glance from the sergeant, and they made their way through the headquarters camp together. The camps were always set up a different way every time they moved, but she had a good memory for directions, and for a lot of other things besides. As they walked, she lit up another one, keeping a lid on her simmering annoyance until later. Of all the ponies for the corporal to suggest… / - / - / - / - / They found the reserve corps. ten minutes later. It consisted of a ring of tents around an area cleared of undergrowth under the boughs of the nearby forest. All around it, Minty knew, were the foxholes where most of the infantry slept, but for the moment the bulk of those ponies were elsewhere on the day’s duties. Summer predictably headed right for the largest tent around the circle of dead campfires to find the commanding officer, but Minty hung back and decided to wander the periphery instead. It wasn’t long before she found somepony worth talking to. “Hey, you,” she said to a pale-yellow mare reclining against a tree with her pack under her head, “Got any tobacco?” The mare spat through a gap in her front teeth and squinted up at Minty. “Only if’n ye chew it,” she grunted. Minty wrinkled her muzzle. “Never mind. I’m looking for a pony named Thrash Metal. Have you seen him around here?” The mare chuckled dryly. “Shoot, ah sure did. He’s over in those bushes with Petunia from th’ labor detail.” The mare jerked her head in the indicated direction. “You jest set tight and wait yer turn, y’hear?” she said, with a knowing wink. The corner of Minty’s mouth quirked down a touch. She left the soldier alone and walked over to where the mare had pointed, a dense clump of bushes outside the area cleared by the company, trying to ignore the noises she heard from them as she drew closer. Approaching as close as she dared go before she ran the risk of seeing anything, she cleared her throat and said, in her best commanding voice, “Enlisted Soldier Thrash Metal?” There was a sudden scramble from within and a moment later the pony in question appeared without, tucking his uniform jacket back into his midsection belt. Thrash Metal was a handsome black stallion with a spiky white mane shot with red, and large caramel-colored eyes. His cutie mark was a blue treble clef, broken in half, each half sitting atop the pink halves of broken heart. Minty sighed inwardly; this was the reason for Supercharger’s constant absences lately? Of course, she knew about him, but it was Minty’s first time seeing the pony in person. As first impressions went, he was wasting his, but they needed a loader and the sergeant wanted this one, so Minty pressed on. “Hey, look, matching manes,” she said, with false cheerfulness, trying to break the ice a little bit. With a sullen glace at her, then back at the bushes, then back at her, he said, “Mine is naturally this color.” Minty set her jaw and resisted the urge to say something very unkind. “So is mine.” “So anyway,” he said, annoyed, “If you’re looking for me just to flirt, you’re very bad at it. What did you really want?” Behind him, a pale pink mare slipped out of the bushes and scurried away, tripping over the uniform jacket held in her teeth. Minty scowled; he could clearly see her collar tabs, so his tone was definitely intentional. “I am Corporal Minty Twist, and you should have a better attitude, seeing as you are about to receive an assignment that I think you probably don’t want to turn down. One that is a little… cozier than this one.” She glanced around significantly at the hundreds of foxholes around, some with ponies sleeping inside them, curled under foil blankets. “If you’ll follow me, my commanding officer and yours are no doubt already discussing the details.” His annoyance suddenly vanished like a summer rain. He eyed her up and down with a newly critical eye, and she felt her skin crawl under her coat, but she held her ground. “Alright, anything to get me out of this dump,” he said, “Just let me get my ruck first.” Minty turned away and stood by while he collected his meager belongings from a hole dug among the roots of a nearby tree. That was… surprisingly easy, all things considered. He returned, burdened by his packs and wearing a steel infantry helmet, his rifle hanging off his side. They walked together into the ring of officers’ tents. As they passed by one of the dead campfires, Summer and a portly moustached unicorn stallion emerged from a tent and caught sight of them. “Oh, there’s the lad now! Jolly good!” said the stallion, nodding to himself. He turned to Summer. “Of course you can have him! I can spare a pony or two for the daughter of a dear friend, ha!” “You would have my thanks,” Summer said. “Yes, of course.” He waved vaguely. “Shall we shake on it?” the stallion said, holding out a hoof. Summer hesitated a moment before taking the stallion’s hoof. The instant their hooves made contact, he shook heartily, nearly lifting Summer off the ground. “P-pleased,” she said, when she had her hoof back. Their business evidently concluded, Summer began tottering back the way they came, and the other unicorn turned to walk back inside his tent. Minty noticed that he seemed oddly relieved, but she kept her misgivings about this deal to herself. / - / - / - / - / Minty let Summer lead the way back, so she could walk behind Thrash. It wasn’t that she felt he would try and slip away – in fact, he seemed enthusiastic about this change in his fortunes, once she had explained to him what, exactly, he had been called away from his unit to do. It was because she didn’t want him to be able to look at her haunches while they walked. When they returned to the depot, Cashmere wasn’t there, but Supercharger was, only her navy-blue tail visible hanging over the side of the tank. Minty hailed her over the new bustle, and her head appeared around an engine cover. Summer turned to Thrash and said, “Right then. Welcome to our crew. We leave shortly, so make certain you are packed in before then.” Because the unicorn’s back was turned, she didn’t see how Supercharger’s face lit up in a radiant grin at the sight of the black stallion, but Minty did. Supercharger jumped out of the tank and hurried over. Minty frowned. She couldn’t keep a lid on it any longer. “Excuse me, sergeant, but I’m just going to have some words with our mechanic,” Minty put in suddenly. She stepped around Summer to intercept Supercharger. Throwing a foreleg over the pegasus’ neck, she pulled her around and led her behind the tank, out of view of the sergeant and their newest crewmember. Two of the crewponies from the no.3 tank a couple meters away looked at them curiously. Minty stared daggers at them until they moved off a short distance, but they continued to watch. She turned back to Supercharger, who was looking peeved. “Okay, what’s this all about?” the pegasus asked. “What this is about is that you-” Minty began. She stopped, and made an effort to reign her temper in. She needed another smoke. “I really didn’t want to bring this up, but why the hay did you have to volunteer your coltfriend of all ponies as a replacement loader?” Especially, she added to herself, to a commander who was inclined to trust your word far more than she should. “There’s a big offensive coming up, everyone says so.” Supercharger took a step back and raised a foreleg defensively. “He’ll be safer with us.” “Safer, and closer to you,” Minty snapped back. “I don’t think that’s a good thing. Especially now that I’ve met him.” “He’s a good pony!” Supercharger protested. “You just don’t know him yet! He’s really sweet and I like spending time with him!” “Too much time lately,” Minty replied sourly. “I’ve been covering for you with the sergeant. You didn’t used to be absent this much. Was he only recently posted here long-term?” Supercharger scuffed at the dirt and looked down. “Yes.” “Still. Even if he were the nicest stallion in the world, which I do not think he is, think about the sergeant. You’ve seen the way she looks at you. She took her first action badly – I think if she found out about you and this pony that you suggested to join our crew, it would not go well for either of you two.” “It’s not that big a deal,” Supercharger said, “She can handle it.” “It is, and if a couple tanks blown up gets her like it has, I don’t think she can. Just promise me that when we come back around this tank, you are going to treat him like a respected colleague you so happen to know from somewhere, and nothing else. You are not going to sneak off with him to fool around for as long as he is in our crew. Alright?” Supercharger was silent for a long moment, hopefully weighing things in her mind. Minty was about to prompt her when she said, “Fine. I promise. But as soon as Turnip is back from the hospital, it’s off. How’s that?” Minty sighed. It was probably about as good as she was going to get out of her. “Fine. But there’s something else. I don’t think you should be seeing him, period.” “Funny you should say that,” Supercharger quipped. “What? No, listen, I’m serious. When I found him, he was with some mare named Petunia. Besides, he gives me the heebie-jeebies. Supercharger, as your friend, I don’t think this pony is good for you.” “Oh, that,” Supercharger said, waving a hoof dismissively. “Yeah, he fools around with other mares from time to time. But I’m his main mare. I’m the one he really loves.” Minty stared, dumbfounded. She gave up. Let it happen, then; that broken-heart cutie mark was a prophecy. “Fine, whatever. As long as you don’t jeopardize the sergeant's state of mind. And if I find both of you missing at the same time, I will not hesitate to bring a world of hurt down on you, whether we're friends or no. Am I clear?” Supercharger rolled her eyes. “Crystal clear, miss bossy-hooves. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should go and meet my ‘respected colleague’.” She pushed past Minty and rounded the nose of the tank. Minty watched her go, then, when she was out of sight, angrily dug the pack of government-issue cigarettes from her pocket. She didn’t want to waste one of her good newspaper ones, she just wanted the nicotine. She tapped one out, struck a match, and lit it. Taking a deep drag, she leaned against the hull, peering around the upper glacis, and watched Supercharger “introduce herself”. After a second, she shifted her attention the new loader. At first he seemed confused by Supercharger’s “friendly, professional” attitude, but he quickly caught on, and now he seemed fairly bored. His attention wandered and settled on Minty, who held his gaze and blew out a cloud of smoke. When the introductory remarks were over, Summer looked first at one, then the other, shook her head furiously, and left them to attempt to take down her tent. Then Minty heard Supercharger say, “Let me show you around the tank,” and she felt she had to intervene. Walking over, she said, “It’s a tank, not a mansion. He can look around it himself.” She stabbed a forehoof at Supercharger. “You should be focusing on getting the engine road-worthy. You only have a half hour. Stop wasting time.” Supercharger huffed, but she walked away and jumped back onto the engine deck and vanished behind an open engine cover. “That’s harsh,” commented Thrash. Minty glared at him. “Yes, well, sometimes she gets her priorities a little mixed up, and needs to be reminded. You just get yourself inside and see where everything is. Better do it now, when we’re not hitting every bump in the path.” “Don’t mind if I do,” he said, eyebrows arched playfully. Minty snorted and turned away just in time to meet Cashmere returning with a milk crate balanced on her back and a sack gripped in her mouth. She hurried to help her, transferring the crate onto her own back. “How much did you have to give for all this?” Minty asked. “Oh, I told them you sent me and then what I wanted, and they gave me all this!” Cashmere said, happily. Minty groaned; this was going to cost quite a few favors to pay back. “Who’s that?” “What?” Minty said. Thrash was tentatively poking his muzzle inside the radio operator’s hatch. “Oh. That’s our new backup loader. Keep your possessions close, but keep your flanks closer.” “What?” Cashmere asked, confused. Minty merely moved off, without elaborating further. To reach the turret storage box with their loads, they had to climb up the front of the tank. Minty passed by Thrash without issue, but the stallion stopped Cashmere with an outstretched hoof. “Hey, cutie,” he said, “What’s your name?” Minty shrugged the milk crate off into the baggage box and glanced over to Summer to see if she was looking; the sergeant was busy wrestling with a tentpole. “C-cashmere,” stammered the pink mare, and she coughed nervously. “W-what’s yours?” “The name’s Thrash Metal,” he said, examining the underside of his hoof in mock aloofness. “That’s, um, nice. Nice name,” Cashmere said, smiling weakly and backing up the machine onto the turret roof, tugging the sack behind her. She deposited the sack in the box and Minty gave her a “see what I mean?” look. Cashmere nodded and jumped off the side of the engine deck and went to fetch her pack. Minty stepped down the front of the tank and stopped next to Thrash. With another quick glance to make sure Summer wasn’t looking, she leaned in close to the stallion and said, “Stay away from that mare. Got it?” with each word punctuated by jabbing Thrash sharply in the chest. Thrash looked down at her outstretched hoof, then up at her face, shrugged, and slowly lowered himself into the hatch. Minty snorted angrily and went to help Summer, who had somehow gotten something with her tent hopelessly tangled. While she assisted, she considered voicing her concerns, but decided it wasn’t worth saying anything. The young unicorn had enough to worry about, and they still needed a loader, even one like that; there wasn’t any more time left in the sergeant’s deadline to find another. She would see for herself sooner or later what sort of stallion he was, anyway, Minty told herself. “There you go. You should probably ask somepony for help next time you need to set this thing up, though.” “I can manage by myself, thank you very much,” Summer said, frostily. Wrapping the tent bundle in her glow, she lifted it onto the engine deck in between the engine covers and lashed it down with twine. If only all ponies could perform such feats of remote manipulation. “Alright, climb aboard, let’s go,” Summer called, to the crew at large. Supercharger appeared. “But I still need a few minutes! It hasn’t been an hour yet!” “We’re leaving ahead of schedule,” Summer told her, “Start it up.” Fourty minutes later, after a lot of shouting and smoke and the liberal use of a fire extinguisher, they rumbled out of the depot, stuck in first gear.