Chapter 12: Eviction Notice
“What?” Taylor asked, disbelief evident in his voice. His feet and hands moved in a rapid dance on the controls as he brought the bomber back to level flight. “Thompson, you see it?”
“Yes sir,” the gunner’s voice came back promptly. “Port side drop tank is bombs away, sir.” He leaned over in his turret, cheek pressed against the window. “Come left about fifteen degrees, Lieutenant.”
Taylor complied, putting the Avenger into a slow circle. “Well?” he asked impatiently.
“Tally-ho,” Thompson sang out. “Looks like...ouch, yeah, there it goes. Impacted on the side of a hill down there, just west of the little bunch of trees.”
“Yeah, I see it now,” Taylor said after a moment. “Well, shit.” He exhaled slowly, letting the air hiss through his clenched teeth in frustration. He circled the spot once more, then turned the aircraft back on course and activated his microphone. “Don’t worry about it for now, Stivers.” Taylor gave a thumbs up over the wing to show he wasn’t worried. “We’ll settle down before the mountains, then get the pegasi to go and grab the tank.”
“Roger that, Taylor.” Stivers replied over the comm.
Out on the wing, Sword apparently caught part of this; the pony turned and shouted something to his wingmates, and then glared with obvious disapproval at the pilot on the other side of the Plexiglas.
The next few minutes were filled with silence as Taylor scouted for land flat enough to land their aircraft, yet hard enough to not rip the wheels off. As the aircraft approached a favourable landing zone, the ponies dismounted from their wing grips, and flew circles around the landing area while waiting for the planes to land.
The landing itself was fairly routine, or as routine as it could get in the magic land of Equestria. Taylor and Stivers brought the planes down in a relatively open space of flat grassland, once again landing side by side as before. As soon as the planes had slowed to a walking pace, Sword ordered Midnight Arrow and Crimson Hoof to begin the flight back to the point where the tank had fallen off of Taylor’s aircraft.
Once his plane had come to a complete stop and shut down, Taylor immediately jumped out, running over and inspecting the conspicuously empty mount on the port wing where his fuel tank had been. After about a minute, Stivers joined him. “What do you think caused it?” the captain asked.
“I don’t know.” Taylor replied. “Looks like all of the bolts came loose...”
“That... makes no sense.” Stivers stammered. “How could all of the bolts have come loose? Aren’t they stuck on there with impact wrenches?”
“Yah. Maybe they got shaken up when we flew through that shitstorm that brought us here.”
“No.” Stivers stated, shaking his head. “We would have noticed something like that when we reassembled the planes. Besides, I saw jack shit when we did our preflight, and I know damn well you checked yours, too. Everything was good to go.”
“Maybe—” Taylor was cut of by Shining Star poking him in the arm with his hoof.
“Lieutenant,” he began, voice wavering. “I think I know what it was.” He looked scared.
Following a moment of expectant silence, Taylor finally spoke up, “Okay, what is it then?”
“Oh, um. I speak a bit of zebra, as part of a cultural excha—”
“Skip the fluff.” Stivers interrupted.
Star looked more annoyed than hurt at the interjection, but kept going regardless. “A cultural exchange program. Those Zebras cursed us.”
Another stretch of silence followed, until Stivers cleared his throat. “What?”
“You know...” Star said uncertainly. “When they saw your flying machines?”
“So... like voodoo?” Taylor asked, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.
“No not like voodoo!” Star exploded. “What do you think this is? A scary story for foals?”
“Then what they hell could it be?” Stivers retorted. “I didn’t see any of that fancy magic that those unicorns can do. Nor did I see a horn atop their striped heads.”
“It was an incantation, not a spell.” Star said patiently. “You humans know nothing.”
The aforementioned humans exchanged a glance, but the pony cut in, the irritation in his voice evident. “Fine, then.” Star snorted and stamped a forehoof. “You explain why your fuel tank fell off your wing when it wasn’t supposed to.”
“I...” Taylor broke off, then tried again. “Hell, I don’t know. Metal fatigue, maybe? It happens.”
“No way, Lieutenant.” Gruebel’s voice sounded from behind them where the Marine was crouched under the wing in question. “The surface looks fine. The mounting bolts for the drop tank have sheared clean off. I mean clean.” He looked over at Taylor, the perplexity in his expression evident. “Even bolt cutters don’t do it this clean, sir. It’s like somebody took a razor to the metal.”
“So it wasn’t a failure of the release mechanism, then.” Stivers joined Gruebel under the wing, peering closely at the mount.
“No sir, and no sign of abrasion from vibration either. One minute it was fine, and the next, it was gone.” Gruebel shrugged. “You got me, sir.”
Taylor rubbed one hand against his chin, then glanced over at Star, who was studiously avoiding making eye contact with the pilot. “Okay, I give up. Fine, it’s a curse. We have flying ponies, unicorns, gryphons, and sand demons, not to mention Spam in a can. I can make room for a curse.” He raised his arms wide in a gesture of surrender. “Fine, so what do we do about it?”
Star blinked at the pilot. “Um...nothing? It’s kind of already taken effect, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Now now, Private. Mind your tongue.” Sword’s own tongue made a clucking noise as he meandered over. “A little less insolence, if you please.”
Shining Star’s expression turned mortified, a visible flush creeping up his cheeks under the fur. “Sorry, sir. I just...well, I was right, after all.” The pony looked down, scuffing the turf with a forehoof. “Nobody ever listens to me.”
“Actually, everyone listens to you, lad. They just don’t believe most of what you say.” Sword gave the other pony a long look before turning his attention to the pilots. “Perhaps after today things may change a bit, hmm?”
“Okay, okay, I was wrong, all right?” Taylor gritted his teeth. “What, should I do a dance to apologize?”
“Not necessary. That rough ride down was enough to upset my stomach...no need to tempt fate further.” Golden Sword lifted his chin and stared hard at Taylor. “While we’re on the subject, however, you might want to consult me before deciding to send my troops off to fetch things at your whim, Lieutenant. That was a rather glib decision you made up there.” Sword held up a forehoof to forestall any response. “It was an innocent mistake, I’m sure, and it’s not important at the moment. I’d just like to avoid it happening again when it is important.”
An uncomfortable silence followed for a moment, and then Taylor straightened up. “Point taken, sir.” His cheek twitched. “I apologize.”
“No harm done, Mr. Taylor.” Sword turned his attention to the aircraft. “So, is your machine still usable?”
The lieutenant took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’d like to take another look at everything, but as far as I know, it looks like a clean drop of the port tank. No structural damage. She’ll still fly.” He glanced to his left where the ground rose steeply, a series of rolling hills leading off toward the south where the mountain peaks loomed in the distance. “Honestly, though, I don’t think we could go much farther this way, anyway. We’ve pushed our luck up to this point, but I don’t see coming across a better landing site in that mess.”
Thompson, who had stood off to the side while his pilot was examining their aircraft, exhaled audilbly. “Thank Christ.”
“Really? Well, then, maybe it was good luck instead of a curse, eh?” Sword glanced over and patted Star on the shoulder. “And now that we’re here, let’s go through our things and get them checked over, hmm? Star, would you and Shadow go through the supplies and do an inventory for me? Food specifically, and water; I’d like an idea of what we’ve got and how long we can stretch it. Trail rations, too.” The pony arched an eyebrow. “Don’t starve us out, but measure it out careful. I want to make it last.”
“Yes, sir.” Star straightened to attention, and then retreated, visibly glad to be moving out of range of so much brass. The pony trotted toward where the other bomber sat, making a beeline toward a familiar shape that was leaning against one of the main landing gear struts. “Hey, Shadow!”
“Mmyeahwhat?” Shadow opened his eyes and looked over at his smaller friend. “You done hanging out with the officers, decide to come back and slum with us low-lifes?”
“Oh please, don’t even.” Star rolled his eyes. “I told them about what that zebra did. Even now I don’t think they believe me, not entirely.”
“I’m not even sure I do, to be honest.” Shadow glanced at Star from the corner of one eye with mock suspicion. “I think you’ve been chewing locoweed or something, Star. Better let me inspect that pack of yours.”
“Come on!” Star snorted and spun around, deliberately bumping his flank into the heavier pony’s shoulder; the impact barely making an impression. “Now you’re just being mean, jerk.”
“And you’re being insubordinate. This is why I made corporal, and you didn’t.” Shadow laughed heartily and resumed busily leaning against the aircraft tire. “So, what’s up?”
“Captain Sword wants us to go over the food and get a count. We have to check it out and let him know how much we have, you know. Logistics stuff.”
The larger guard pony blinked and stood up straight, peering at his friend. “Don’t tell me. Trail rationing.”
“Bingo. You get a gold star.”
“I’d rather have double rations.” Shadow groaned, and then sighed heavily. “Okay, let’s get it over with.” He ambled slowly out from under the wing of Stivers’ aircraft. “Hey, did the lieutenant and Hoof take their packs with them?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Star frowned. “At least, I didn’t see them with them on when they left.”
“Okay, we can count theirs up too, then.” Shadow said as he moved towards his own pack. “Standard deal; Count it all and divvy it up?”
“Yup,” replied Star. You go grab the humans’ stuff, I’ll go and get everything else.”
After several minutes of rummaging through the various cargo compartments on the planes, the two ponies reconvened around the small pile of bags they had accrued. As they began unceremoniously dumping the saddlebags out, they separated the food into one big pile, keeping their personal belongings in a smaller pile near the bag they came from.
After their own bags, came the first of the humans’. Star took his time pulling out the belongings, careful not to damage someone else’s property, while Shadow just sat and watched.
Looking up, Star caught Shadow eyeing up the various small objects found inside of the bag with Taylor’s name printed on it. “What are you looking at, Shadow?”
“Just curious.” The stallion replied. “Ever wonder what other militaries pack away? Because, this is the perfect opportunity to find out.”
“Yah, and break the already tenuous trust between us?” Star rolled his eyes.
“Oh come on, it’s only the two of us out here.” Shadow frowned. “What’s ‘tenuous?’”
“Fragile. As in, easily broken. Like your heart whenever you go on leave and find another girlfriend.”
“Oh, fuh-hun-ee.” Shadow made a rude gesture with a forehoof. “Anyway look, folded paper!. That always leads to insights.”
“Shadow... Don’t do it.” Star warned.
“”I’m doing it.” Shadow said as he grabbed the piece of paper, opening it. “It’s a photo.” He stated bluntly.
After a rather tense few seconds of Shadow observing the picture, Star finally piped up. “Well, what’s on it?”
“It’s a group of humans. I think they were his family...” Flipping over the piece of paper, Shadow started reading an inscription on the back. “Charles, Know we will always love you, even if we don’t want you in the navy. And, for the record, your mother would have been proud. Samuel. We’ll always miss you. Gladys. When you get back, I owe you a beer. Ralph.”
“So... That is definitely his family.” Star stated bluntly. “Great, now can we move on?”
“I wonder why he doesn’t keep it in a pocket? Like he does with those little wings of his?” Shadow said.
“Maybe because he wasn’t worried about anyone messing with it in his bag.” Star looked nervously over his shoulder. “Will you put it back, please?”
“Fine, fine.”
After separating the food from Taylors belongings, Star wrapped the photo in one of Taylor’s spare shirts so it didn’t get damaged by the ground. He also placed a tin of the canned meat the humans kept calling “spam” there as well. “Ugh. I think I’m leaving those out of the rations we’re counting up. At least for us.”
Shadow pause, considering. “You never know. If you get really hungry...” he trailed off, an ominous look on his face.
“If I get really hungry, I’m going to eat grass right off the ground like a bohemian.” Star pulled the next pack over. “Can we get on with this? Except let’s skip the ‘going through personal belongings’ part?”
“Hey, you’re the one who’s always telling me I should learn new things.”
“Not about other ponies lives. Or people. Or whatever.” Star began rapidly sorting out the contents of the pack, pushing the personal items to one side and studiously trying to avoid even noting the content. He felt a burning sensation in the tips of his ears, and he glanced over his shoulder again at the tall lieutenant who stood some distance away, but the human was not even looking in their direction. “C’mon, Shadow, help me out so we can get this done.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Shadow tugged the nearest satchel over to himself and began sorting through it sulkily. “I was just curious, is all. Some of the other ones are pretty neat. Gruebel’s awesome. I bet he could totally kick somepony’s butt.”
“Duhh, he’s a soldier. That’s what they do, remember? Oh, gag.” Star hurriedly pushed aside another can of meat. “That Gallivan, though... he scares me.”
Shadow stopped in the middle of examining a shirt in particular need of washing and stared at him. “Hey, Bob’s cool. Leave him alone.”
“‘Bob?’” Shining Star peered at his friend oddly. “You call him Bob?”
“Well, not to his face, no. He’s a higher rank, that’s not polite.”
“Now you’re concerned about being polite? Shadow, you worry me, sometimes.” Star shook his head.
“Well, he is a sergeant.” Shadow grinned. “And he fights like I do, too. No weapons. He’s tough.” The pony stopped, his grin fading. “I think he has to be. It... helps him.”
Star pushed his pack away and looked up at the bigger pony. “Helps him with what?”
“It... oh, I don’t know.” Shadow tapped his forehead with a hoof, then shrugged. “You’re better with words for all that kind of stuff, Star. I’m just a guard pony, you know?”
Finally their gaze shifted to the last bag. The one both of them feared opening.
“So...” Shadow started slyly, “What do you think Midnight brought with her?”
“Really Shadow? Really?” Star asked incredulously. “We just talked about this, remember? Can’t you keep your head out of the clouds?”
“Not really. Besides, you talked about it, not me. Hey, what’s this?” Shadow said as he grabbed a book from top of her pack. “Mission log. She actually keeps one of these?” He placed it on the ground next to her pack as he pulled out another smaller book and peered at the written inscription on the cover. “‘Journal?’ This has juicy written all over it.”
“Shadow... I really don’t think you should be looking at that...” Star said in a warning tone. “You know how fillies are with their journals... If she ever found out about you looking at, let alone reading her private journal, she would geld you on the spot.”
When Shadow showed no signs of putting down the book, a rather familiar voice spoke up from behind them. “He’s right you know, and you’re standing in the perfect spot,” it said in an icy tone.
Something pointy tapped Shadow lightly on the flank. His red fur instantly turned brighter, much to the amazement of both Star and Midnight, and he jumped into the air with a high pitched shriek.
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Stivers glanced over his shoulder, startled. “The hell was that?”
“Maybe Midnight came back, and saw a spider?” Taylor suggested with a smirk.
“I find that highly unlikely. Regardless,” stated Sword, “We need to go find out what it was.” He turned and began trotting toward the other aircraft. “Could have given our position away, and If that happened for a reason as silly as spiders, somepony is going to regret it.”
Stivers and Taylor shared a quick a glance, realizing that Sword probably wasn’t joking. As they jogged over to where the commotion was, they noticed a very irritated looking Midnight with her bow drawn, but empty. Beside her, Shining Star stood rigidly at attention, the expression on his face clearly showing the desire to be somewhere more welcome... say, the far side of the moon. Next to him, Shadow sat hunched low, quivering, his tail clamped tightly under him.
“What in blazes is going on?” Sword asked.
“Nothing, sir. Just a short discussion on protocol and discipline.” Midnight glanced over at Shadow, eyes narrowed. “I’m quite sure it won’t need to be repeated.”
“Well, that’s good, because half the countryside probably heard that yelp.” Sword cast a considering eye at Shadow, but decided to let it go. “Report.”
“Crimson Hoof and I located the tank that fell off Taylor’s airplane.” Midnight shook her head and looked past her commander at the tall human behind him. “I’m sorry, lieutenant, it was a total loss. It smashed up fairly badly when it hit the ground and all of the contents had leaked out.”
“Yeah, that was some nasty stuff, too.” Hoof stepped forward, snorting at the memory. “What the hoof do you guys use in those machines, sir? It stank to the stars and back.”
“It’s high-octane aviation gaso... nevermind, it doesn’t matter.” Taylor spat and uttered a particularly nasty curse. “Well, that’s going to mess things up big time.”
“How so?” Golden Sword glanced over at him. “You said yourself you couldn’t fly much further anyway, due to the terrain, yes?”
“Correct, Captain. The problem is, we also have to get back.” Taylor reached up with both hands and scratched his head in frustration. “I tried to come up with some computations while we were flying, and it was tough enough due to the screwy fuel consumption with you guys on the wings. With one whole wing tank gone though...shit, I don’t know.” He glanced over at Stivers. “We’ll have to figure out some way of sharing out what’s left between the two planes.”
“No sense in worrying about it right now, Charlie.” Stivers shrugged. “I see your point, but we still have to get where we’re going before we can worry about getting back.” He frowned for a moment. “Um...where are we going, exactly?”
“Still fairly due south, at the moment.” Sword motioned at the map Taylor had gripped in one hand, and the lieutenant obligingly unfolded it. “Look here. We still have to get through the foothills here before we even reach the mountainous area; I’m guessing a two to three day journey for that.” He reached out a hoof and tapped the map. “Right here, there’s a pretty rough patch of country, but there’s a pass that will let us through.” The pony narrowed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. “We’ve got no more than a fortnight of traveling time ahead of us, provided we don’t run into any snags.”
“A fortnight?” Taylor stared at the pegasus. “You mean two weeks, right?”
“Yes.” Sword frowned. “Why, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I just keep finding resemblances between you guys and my own people in the damnedest places.”
“So we’ve got two weeks of rough living ahead of us, and we’re there, then.” Stivers shrugged. “We can handle that.”
“Mind you, I said providing we don’t run into any snags.” Sword turned and eyed the peaks that lay on the horizon to the south of them, his ears flicking back and forth. “And we probably will, to be honest,” he added with a sigh. “This is gryphon country, remember? We’ll be entering much of their territory, and I’m not entirely sure how they’ll react.”
“Based on the folks we’ve run into so far, I’m sure they’ll greet us with open arms.” Taylor grimaced. “While holding spears. And shooting arrows and God knows what else at us, while screaming for our blood.”
Sword did not reply for a moment, and then sighed again. “Yes... there is that possibility.”
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Shining Star grunted and dropped the branch he’d been carrying on the ground with a sigh of relief. “There you go, lieutenant, that’s the last of them.”
“Thank you.” Midnight caught the branch up in her jaws and leapt into the air, weaving a bit as the weight tugged her to and fro. The pegasus came to a hover over the rear turret of one of the Avenger bombers, its deep blue form mostly obscured now by a hodgepodge collection of branches, vines, and other detritus the group had found scattered nearby. There was nowhere near enough material to cover the aircraft completely, and the group had pushed the two planes underneath the spreading branches of a grove of oak trees. “Here?”
“Yeah, just try and lean it up against the frame so the leaves cover the shiny part.” Taylor stood off to one side, tilting his upper body in demonstration as he held out an arm. “Right where the guns come out, you can still see the gleam on the bubble.”
Midnight set the branch down for a moment, rubbing her jaw with a forehoof. “Yes, thank you, Taylor, I do know how camouflage works, you know.”
The pilot waved his hands in apology. “Yeah, right, sorry, I keep forgetting.”
“No harm done.” Midnight studied the plane with a critical eye, then picked the branch back up and moved over to wedge it firmly in place near where the turret met the canopy. “There we go. That’ll keep any prying eyes from up here catching the sunlight off of it. How does it look down there?”
“Great. Nice job, thanks.” Taylor stood for a moment, staring at the plane as Midnight swooped back over to land next to him and Star.
“What’s the matter? Did some of it shift?” Midnight frowned, peering at the mostly covered aircraft. “It seems okay to me.”
“No, it’s great.” The pilot sighed slowly. “I just...I don’t like leaving her behind like this.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure she won’t mind too terribly.” Midnight gave him an amused look. “Besides, no one’s likely to come along and nip off with your flying machine, Taylor. Anyone with the means to around here already has wings built-in, anyway.” She flapped her own for emphasis.
“Yeah, well.” Taylor took a step forward, running one hand slowly over the leading edge of the bomber’s wing. The foliage covering it rustled quietly, small branches making a light scraping sound on the aluminum skin.
Midnight trotted over and bumped his leg with her shoulder. “Come on, you,” she said quietly. “Learning experience, remember? Stick close, I’ll keep you out of trouble.”
“Sounds like a deal to me,” Taylor replied. He reached down and picked up his pack where Star had left it for him, shrugging his shoulders into the straps with a grimace. “Ouch, dammit, that pinches.”
“Strap’s twisted,” Star said carefully. He pointed with a forehoof and made a circular motion. “Turn it... no, the other way, sir. That’s right. Also, you might want to tighten them up more. If you leave them that loose while you’re walking all day, they’ll chafe the fur right off your... um.” He frowned, peering at the flight suit covering Taylor’s shoulders. “Well, it won’t be pleasant.”
“Right, I gotcha.” Taylor tugged on the straps and hunched the pack up higher on his back until it sat snug. “It’s not quite like putting a parachute on, but close enough.”
“Good job,” Midnight said approvingly. “Star, go tell Captain Sword we’re finished over here. And see if you can help them with their cover.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Star saluted and turned smartly, feeling somewhat relieved. You had to be careful about telling officers when they were doing something completely wrong, and Taylor had been heading in a bad direction. He and Midnight seemed to be getting along pretty well with each other, too, and Star had no desire to get his lieutenant any more annoyed with him than she might already be. He’d merely been joking with Shadow about the gelding bit, but Star had no wish to find out for certain. He shuddered as he thought of the uncanny speed Midnight Arrow had shown while wielding her bow in combat.
Glancing over his shoulder, he caught Midnight watching him, and Star decided to move a little faster himself. Just in case.
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As the group moved through the foothills, Shadow came to a rather startling realization. He was bored. The scenery was nothing compared to his homeland: the mountains blocked the view to the frozen south, and behind them the hills sloped gently down toward the dry plain and desert. To either side was more of the same rolling ground, with no sign of paths, roads or habitation that he could tell.
He tried looking to the skies to cloud watch, but the southern air currents were blocked by the mountains; there was really not much more than a wisp or two here and there. Shadow often liked to sit back and imagine titanic battles in the sky between ferocious cloud warriors. His fellow guards and friends sometimes teased him about “having your head in the clouds,” but it was one of Shadow’s favorite ways to pass the time; the pony loved to sit and listen to action and adventure stories, and if no one had one handy, he would sit back and make up his own. Wild ponies from the Nether Northlands wouldn’t have dragged this secret out of him, however; anytime he thought about telling somepony about it - Star maybe, or Hoof - his ears burned and he felt foolish, like a little colt instead of a full grown stallion.
Shadow glanced idly over at the tall human who was walking beside him. Taylor seemed like a pretty nice fellow, even for an officer, although he acted oddly foolish now and then. It was as if the tall lieutenant had one of Shadow’s own little cloud adventures going on in his head all the time, and every now and again a little of it would escape out of his mouth in the form of some random nonsense. Mulling this bit over in his head, Shadow considered asking the pilot if he ever stared at the clouds as he flew and saw shapes in them, like maybe a dragon with a tiny little head, or a pony with five legs, or...
Up ahead, Shadow saw Stivers turn around and walk backwards for a moment, looking the group over as they marched. Seeming satisfied, he turned back around, murmuring something to Golden Sword, who simply nodded in reply. Seeing this, Shadow swallowed his words and remained quiet, as Sword had ordered when they had set out. He would have liked to just talked to Taylor for a bit, but then one of the two Captains (or maybe even both, dear sweet Celestia) would have smacked him silly, or worse yet, Midnight would get to him first. Sighing heavily, he turned back to face forward, with only the rather unappealing sight of Thompson’s rear end to occupy his vision. The only thing the pegasus had to entertain himself (that did not involve a very long and boring walk) were his thoughts.
Thankfully, he was rescued by the Lieutenant beside him. “So, why do we need to maintain silence again? I mean, I get why we would need it when we can’t see for forever and a mile, but seriously, we’ll be able to see anything long before we can hear it.”
Captain Sword glared at Taylor fiercely, and was about to say something that probably would have made a drill sergeant blush before Midnight cut him off. “Well, you are fairly tall, Taylor. An airborne scout would attract attention easily, so it’s just standard operating procedures when we can’t see over the hills, you know?”
“Makes sense.” Taylor replied. “But since we can see over the hills...” He waved an arm expansively at the rolling countryside around them. The ground was uneven but decently firm and covered with an intermittent shroud of grass, broken here and there by small outcroppings of rock, low hummocks of bushes and the occasional tree or two.
“You’re already talking, are you not?” replied Sword, through clenched teeth.
“Yes, I’m sorry, captain,” Taylor said in a humble tone. “My telepathy isn’t working at the moment. I would have tried sign language, but the fact that I don’t know any kinda killed that idea, and I left my signal flags with my other luggage, so...”
There were several snickers, from pilots and pegasi alike, and Sword rolled his eyes in defeat. “Fine, very well, I get your point quite clearly, thank you. Keep it down to a dull roar, then, would you? Sound carries very easily out here, and we’re well inside the borders of gryphon territory now.”
“What is it with you guys and the gryphons, sir? If you don’t mind my asking.” Thompson glanced around carefully for the moment, then looked back to the pony pacing along in front of him. “I mean, are you guys at war, or at peace, or what?”
“That probably depends on the pony you ask, and where he’s standing at the time,” Sword said in a dry tone. “Back in Canterlot, they’d tell you we’re at peace. On occasion, you’ll hear we’re allies. But that doesn’t mean that we’re bosom companions who delight in afternoon picnics and dance parties.”
Stivers, who had been munching on a handful of raisins, coughed and snorted for a moment. “Jesus, that sounds familiar. Remember that shitstorm with Patton in London, Charlie?”
“Yeah, I heard about that. He almost got fired over that, I think; some senator was screaming for his head because he’d ‘insulted our great Russian allies.’” Taylor shook his head. “What a balls-up. Glad they finally turned him loose in Normandy, though. We sure could have used him on our side of the war.”
“Not much room for a tank battle on most of the sandbars we invaded, sir.” Gruebel spoke up from behind them. “Different war.”
“You got that right.” Gallivan’s voice was low and even as it drifted over them from the rear of the column. “Europe, they were fighting Germans. That’s like getting into a pissin’ contest with your neighbor because his dog keeps shitting on your front lawn. The Pacific... it was like we was fightin’ aliens.”
Shadow looked around and stared at Gallivan with fascination. “You fought aliens?”
The Marine sergeant chuckled at the expression on Shadow’s face. “Naw, not really, but sometimes it seemed like it.” He strode on for a few moments in silence, then spoke up again. “I mean, what kind of person, when they’re losing a fight, and they know it, still acts like they’re your ultimate master and beats the crap out of you because they think you looked at them funny? And God help you if you react to the sound of friendly bombs going off. I saw a guy have his legs broken because he looked up when a five-hundred pounder went off nearby.” His voice became louder, edged with something undefinable. “Shit, if that ain’t alien, then it sure as hell ain’t human.”
Shadow’s ears laid back against the armor plate of his head guard at the rising tone in Gallivan’s voice. “Well, uh, Sarge,” he offered hesitantly, “we’re not humans. You don’t think we’re aliens, do you?”
Gallivan frowned severely at him. “Hell no. Shadow, I know you’re not a human being, but you’re... shit, I dunno.” He waved a hand aimlessly in the air. “You’re practically people, though, you know? You guys... ponies, whatever. You’re honest, most of the time. You’re pretty straight shooters. You have a sense of honor, you’re decent. Hell, you healed up Howie there, and you had no reason to.”
Thompson had the good grace to flush at that. “Yeah... I think I said that myself, once. I don’t think I ever actually got around to saying thanks for that, though.”
Shadow felt a touch on his shoulder and glanced around to see Midnight dropping slowly back along the column as they walked. “So what you’re saying is that these... people you fought, they were indecent.” Her voice was low and quiet as she drew even with Gallivan and matched his pace as they moved along. “That they had no honor.”
Gallivan uttered a short, ugly laugh, but his reply was closer to a normal tone of voice. “Oh, they thought they did. That was practically all that mattered to them. And heaven help you if they thought you’d made them lose face, or look silly. That’s why the beat that guy who flinched when the bomb went off. Because he’d heard it, see? That made it real. And if it was real, then they’d been attacked, and made to look weak. The Japs hated that. They’d rather die than admit to losing.”
Silence reigned for a moment, and then Midnight spoke, still in that low, thoughtful tone of voice, as if they were discussing some abstract idea, something that had nothing to do with any of them, not really. “It sounds as if they were a proud people, much like the gryphons in this country. And when a proud people get desperate, and if they feel like pride is all they have left, sometimes pride makes them do foolish, horrible things.”
Shadow watched the sergeant digest this for a moment. “Yes ma’am,” he finally replied. “I guess that’s the analytical way of lookin’ at it. I guess that’s part of the ‘why,’ but it ain’t all of it.” He shrugged, and Shadow felt a sudden empathy for the man, for those times when the words you needed just weren’t there to help you explain. “It ain’t all of it,” he repeated. “And it doesn’t make it right.”
“No, you’re right, it doesn’t,” Sword said abruptly, surprising them all. “It doesn’t make it right, and you can lose sleep over trying to figure out the rest of why, Sergeant. Better to try to let it go.” He shared a long look with Stivers, then brought the column to a halt. “And unfortunately, no one group has a monopoly on pride. Not your foes, nor the gryphons, either.” He stared at the mountain range ahead, his gaze focused on the nearest of the peaks. “Ponies learned that long ago, and the lesson carried a heavy price.”
Stivers gave the pony a long, speculative look. “Something you want to share with us, Captain?”
Sword shook his head. “Not here. When we get to the mountains, I’ll tell you about it. You’ll see then, and maybe you’ll even understand.” He glanced up at the sun where it lay in the western sky and nodded. “For now, let’s set up camp. You’ll want to grab some extra firewood while there’s still places to get it here; there’s precious little up in the rocks.”
“All right, you bozos, you heard him.” Stivers unshouldered his pack and dropped it to the ground. “Gather up everything you can that’ll burn, and don’t pansy out on me. Load up all you can carry.”
Shadow grimaced as he dropped his own pack, and jumped abruptly when a soft voice spoke in his ear. “And you can carry a little extra, can’t you, hmm?” Midnight’s voice was pleasant, almost conversational. “The extra weight will keep you focused and you won’t want to waste time looking at things you shouldn’t.”
“Yes ma’am,” he replied, wincing. “Eyes front, hooves down, that’s me.”
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Day 2. Three hours till dusk.
Another day down, only... a lot to go. We got to the foothills of the mountains today. I just have a few moments of spare time while my colleagues gather fire starting supplies, so I decided now would be as a good a time as ever to write.
Remember the Zebras I mentioned earlier? Well, according to Shining Star, what they had said was a Zebra curse. According to him, it is also the reason why one of our machines was almost brought low.
There was this dreadful rumbling coming from the left wing, and then just as suddenly as it started, it was gone. That was when we were informed that the... ‘high octave avian ganasole’ tank was ripped off. (I am honestly unsure if that’s what it’s called, but that’s what I remember. It had a lot of words, that I don’t think we would understand without a good proper explanation.
This is a problem, Taylor said, because that’s what powers the machine’s flight. Without that, we don’t have much air time left. The humans don’t at least. If push comes to shove, we could... No. We won’t leave them behind. They’re just like us Fluttershy! In so many ways its scary.
We were told a story by Gallivan, about a race of people he fought called the ‘Japs’. They had, what he described as a twisted sense of honour, where if anything wasn’t going right, whoever pointed it out would be punished. I’ve heard stories of the griffons doing similar things, but I am unsure if that’s just propaganda, or if that’s how it actually is.
I really hope we can get through Griffon territory without needing to fight.
Shadow almost read my letters to you today. I was so angry, that I just... I could have done something harsh, but I thought about what you would have done, so I only gave him a mild scare, and a few... extra duties. These letters are meant for your eyes, and the eyes of those you show them to. I will not let anyone else get that close again.
And to think, it was right in the middle of him sorting rations too. Him and Star had been picked to distribute our rations evenly, so they had to fish them out of our bags, which is all well and good, but I mean, really. You don’t look through somepony’s personal belongings. I can only imagine what the Humans would have done if it had been their stuff they had been going through.
Anyway, they’re getting back with the tinder, so I’m going to go and help them. I might write another letter tonight. Maybe.
~Midnight Arrow
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The next day brought a more definite change in their surroundings, and the pilots each made a point to commend Sword for his foresight. The hilly terrain they had been traveling through began a marked rise, and the ground about them bore visible change; the grass began to grow more and more sparsely, eventually becoming no more than a patchy scruff against the bare ground, while here and there bare rock began to show through the earth. The air itself became markedly cooler, and before mid-afternoon more than one member of the party was wearing the heavy cloak that had been packed into their luggage back at Canterlot. The basic design was well suited to a pony, even one wearing bulky armor, and it covered the five pegasi easily enough. The ones that had been packed in for the pilots had undergone some hasty, last-minute tailoring, which basically amounted to a patchwork arrangement that kept its human wearer warm, but was somewhat less than aesthetically pleasing.
Gallivan took advantage of a short stop to dig his own cloak out of his pack, and held it up in the air with a frown. “Hell’s bells, which end is up?”
“It’s on your right, the end with the woven fringe.” Gruebel watched him with amusement as the other Marine fought with the clasp and chain for a moment before finally getting it hooked on. “Look at you. You look like you’re wearin my grandma’s quilt.”
“If your grandma’s quilt is anywhere nearby, I’ll gladly take it.” Gallivan shivered for a moment. “Christ, that wind’s cold. We’re not that high up yet, what the hell’s goin’ on?”
Golden Sword ambled over to where they stood, his burnished armor now hidden underneath his own cloak. “Take a moment and study the wind, sergeant. Is it veering very much?”
Gallivan stood quite still for a moment, his shivering subsiding as his body heat began to warm up the inside of the thick winter garment. “Um. No, not really. Not enough to matter, as far as I can tell. It’s pretty steady from dead ahead.”
Sword nodded. “Very good. How about airspeed? Is it constant?”
Both Gruebel and Gallivan stood motionless, eyes slitted as they peered toward the south. “Yes, sir,” Gallivan said finally. “About eight to ten knots right now, and it’s been getting stronger for the past hour or so.”
“Very good,” Sword said approvingly. “You’re correct, and it will continue to get slowly stronger as we move ahead. The wind is coming through a gap in the mountains ahead. A pass which leads into a valley that serves as a road, of sorts. A very old, winding road which will take us most of the rest of the way to our destination.”
“Damn, and we have to eat this wind until we get to the pass?” Gruebel made a face. “Isn’t there another way into the valley?”
“Well, yes, of a sort, but I’m afraid it requires wings.” Sword glanced over his shoulder at the jagged ridge of peaks that loomed in the distance. “And I wouldn’t recommend it anyway, I’m afraid. The wind currents around here are tricky. That’s one of the attractions of the place, after all.”
“Naturally built fortifications,” Gallivan said.
“What?” Gruebel turned to look at the sergeant. “What are you talking about?”
“If this is the border to the gryphon lands... well, you want to have some way to protect your borders, right?” He gestured to the peaks ahead. “And if you want to have a place protected from, say, ponies that can fly, you pick out a nice spot that either negates their advantage by forcing them to the ground, or they take to the air and fly through crap that they’re unfamiliar with, but you are, since you live here. Either way, you’re stuck right where they want you to be.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Sword stated, giving the human an appraising glance. “You’re quite the siege engineer, Sergeant.”
“Just training, sir. It’s all about your terrain.” Gallivan frowned suddenly. “Um, this might sound a bit stupid to be asking now, but isn’t this pass going to be watched?”
“Oh, doubtless it will.” Sword shrugged. “Again, however, our options are somewhat limited...and besides, we’re not exactly at war with the fellows over there at the moment.”
“You don’t sound like you believe that very much, sir.” Gruebel rubbed his hands together and blew on his fingers. “You expecting trouble?”
“I always do.” Sword sighed. “However, Princess Celestia assured me our passage would not be hindered, at least this far.” The pegasus paced back and forth slowly, his gaze never leaving the mountains to the south. “It’s what comes after that troubles me. This place... it has a long memory, for ponies.”
A long silence fell, and Sword moved off, leading the group onward once more. The clear, cold air made the distance difficult to estimate, but as the day wore on the mountainous terrain before them grew steadily in size, with small details beginning to show here and there on individual peaks. Once or twice they passed small clutches of grass, looking brown and withered in the cold, but the ground before them now was mostly bare, and the rock began taking over more and more in their sight until very little real earth remained beneath their feet. The sound of the ponies’ hooves was a faint staccato beat, mostly buried beneath the moan of the wind.
As the sun sank slowly into the west, the cold began to rise sharply, and the wind followed suit, making their cloaks swirl about as the frigid tide nipped and clawed at their ears and eyes. The ponies’ ears were laid back as they marched along, and the humans hunched over, their eyes slitted, the cold forcing tears from nearly everyone.
“Hey, uh, Captain, shouldn’t we stop soon?” Thompson had to raise his voice to be heard. “It’s getting pretty nippy out here, ya know?”
“Just a bit further and we’ll stop, I promise,” Sword called back. “The Rock of the Horn is up ahead, and it’ll provide shelter from the wind. We’ll halt there for the night.” Behind him, Star’s ears pricked up, and the pony looked troubled.
Gruebel caught the expression and leaned close to the pegasus, trying to keep his voice low. “You okay, buddy?”
“Yeah, just... I’m ready to get out of this wind.” Star forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
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The Rock of the Horn turned out to be a stone outcropping that looked nothing like a horn, in Taylor’s opinion. It blocked the blast of icy wind well enough, though, that he was willing to forgive that little detail. The group set camp right up against the lee side of the rock face, where the eddies from the edges could not quite reach, and getting the campfire going was number one priority.
“Damn, that feels good.” Taylor held his hands out toward the crackling flames, opening and closing his fingers slowly. “That wind is something fierce. Is it always like this?”
“This time of year, yes, I’m afraid.” Sword sat as close to the fire as he dared, willing to risk a little singed fur. “Once we’re through the pass, it’ll slack off a great deal, but we’ll just have to endure it until then.”
Thompson uttered a muffled curse. “So you think we’ll reach it tomorrow?”
“Oh yes, certainly. By noontime, if we can keep the pace we have been.” Sword uttered a small sigh of contentment as the warmth of the fire soaked into him. “You’ve all done very well on route march, I do have to say. You’re to be commended. Even you, Shadow.”
“Thank you, sir.” The pony looked surprised. “I, uh, just kept my hooves down, eyes forward, you know.”
“Yes, you did quite well at that. The Captain’s right.” Midnight offered Shadow a crooked grin. “Think you can keep it up?”
“Oh, yes ma’am.” Shadow shivered, but the feeling had nothing to do with the cold. “As long as I need to.”
“Attaboy.” Gallivan gave Shadow a well-intended slap on the back, wincing at the impact of flesh on cold armor. “Ow, shit! That stings like a bastard!”
“Gotta warm your hands up first, sarge.” Taylor chuckled. “Ever try and play baseball in the winter time?” He shook his head in memory. “Fastball, right in the mitt, and you’re lucky if you can hold onto the thing.”
“You played, sir?” Gruebel’s eyes were bright with interest. “I got a cousin who’s with the Dodgers.”
“Not professional, just when I was in college.” Taylor settled down, leaning back and supporting himself on his hands as he looked up at the night sky. “Only played for one year, though. Catching is hell on the knees, and I wasn’t fast enough to play in the field.”
“Think of it like this. If you’d stuck with it, you could have avoided getting shot at over the South Pacific.” Stivers reached behind himself and dragged his pack onto his lap.
“Yah. And where would the fun in that be?” Taylor stated sarcastically, grabbing a tin of Spam from his bag. “Besides I would have missed out on all this fuuhhholy shit that’s cold!” He spasmed in place and jerked upright, whirling around as he clasped a hand to the back of his neck.
Midnight stood there holding her helmet in the crook of a foreleg and wearing an innocent expression. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I bump you with this?” Her tone was nonchalant, but her eyes gleamed wickedly amidst the dark swirl of her mane. “I was going to put it over there next to my pack. So sorry.”
Taylor shivered, the hair standing up on his arms. “I am so going to get you back for that one.” He rubbed his arms and sat back down, watching the mare warily. “You ever play any sports, Midnight?”
“Nope. Track and field for me.” She dropped her helmet next to her pack and sat down, leaning back against the rock where it arched up behind them. “I didn’t have much spare time from my studies, and besides, with track, it’s all about you and nopony else.” Midnight smiled absently. “I liked that about it. You have to find our own measure, and push yourself beyond it without anypony else’s help.”
“Alone, with no help...” Sword’s voice trailed off for a moment, and the stallion shook his head. “If there’s anyplace better suited than this place for that, I don’t know of it.”
Stivers glanced over at the pony. “Well that was fucking cheery as hell. What’s the deal with this place, Sword? You said you were going to tell us when we got here, and, well, we’re here.” He pulled a small pouch of dried fruit from his pack and began popping raisins into his mouth, one at a time.
“Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Golden Sword rubbed a forehoof absently against his chin, a gesture he had unconsciously picked up from the humans. “Well, it was long, long ago. Ancient history, actually. There was a battle fought in this place, back in a time when ponies and the gryphons were at war with each other.”
“Ancient history?” Taylor frowned, pausing in the middle of opening his can of tinned meat. “Just how long ago are we talking about here?”
Sword stared into the flames of the campfire for a moment, considering. “About two thousand years or so, I think.”
Stivers made a strangled coughing sound, and the fruit he’d been chewing on whizzed past Midnight’s ear. “Wait. You guys have been beating the shit out of each other, off and on, for the past two thousand years? Jesus Christ, you need a fucking hobby, Sword. Take up needlepoint, or something.”
The pony looked at him moodily. “Yes, I know, it does seem absurd in this day and age. Still, when you’re defending your homeland, one’s priorities tend to get reassessed.”
Taylor thought of how he’d felt when he’d heard that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor and grimaced. “Thou speakest true, o wise one.”
Sword glanced at him for a moment, and then stared into the flames of the campfire. “At any rate, long ago, there was a battle fought here. Not very large, as battles go, but we lost a great pony then, one of our best generals and leaders. Prince Aurora was his name, and he was an amazing commander, by all accounts.”
“Prince?” Thompson stared across the fire at Sword from where he sat roasting a chunk of the canned meat on the end of a stick. “Ouch, that must have stung. Losing royalty in a battle...” His eyebrows lifted. “I bet morale took a beating on that one.”
“More than you know,” Sword said without looking up. He fell silent again, unmoving, and several of the others exchanged glances, wondering if perhaps that was all they were going to get out of the taciturn captain. Someone’s throat cleared, and then everyone held motionless as a low contralto voice began to sing.
Long ago and far away
Across the burning desert sands
An army saw the breaking day
Journeying through the gryphon lands
Their lord was swift, strong and wise
His forelock flowing in the breeze
He stared with fierce and stalwart eyes
At countless hordes of enemies
The Prince Aurora was his name
Favored by Celestia fair,
Of gold and scarlet was his mane,
Flowing in the mountain air
The gryphons waited, eyes agleam
Their forces gathered in the pass
Scattered loosely, trying to seem
Beaten, down and lost at last
Our prince rode up, laughing loud
Calling for the charging horn
Not waiting, heroic features proud,
Hoofbeats like a gathering storm
He galloped down into the fray
Heedless of the cries to wait,
His captains' fruitless warning neigh
Could not stop the Prince's fate
"Trapped at last!" the evil cry
Rang out from rocky peaks above
Where gryphons lurked, and from on high
They gave the rocks a mighty shove
His folly now revealed at last,
Aurora tried to turn and flee
Dust and thunder, flashing past
Denied his wanted victory
A final crash and doom was sealed
Beneath a mountain's endless weight
The shout of gryphons war cries pealed
Among the rocks, the shout of hate
Stopped ponies charging in their tracks,
Celestia's army leaderless
Her subjects slowly turning back
But marking well where all the best
That was had fallen there that day
The snow capped peaks glimmering red
And ages on, the sages say
Those peaks now known as "Horns of Death"
Still echo with the battle call
Of him who fought until the last
What gryphons call "The Horns," we call
Forevermore, "Aurora's Pass."
They all looked around in shocked surprise to stare at Shining Star, who colored visibly under the fur on his cheeks. “At least, I think that’s how it goes. I may have messed up a line or two.”
“If you did, I’d be surprised to find an error,” Sword said, staring at his subordinate in amazement. “That was impressive lad...you continue to surprise me.”
“Th-thank you, sir,” Star said nervously. “It was just something I picked up awhile back, and I never quite forgot it. I never expected to ever be near the place itself.” He looked around at the forbidding landscape. “Imagine being here, all that time ago.”
“Sounds like our story about the three hundred at the battle of Thermopylae,” Stivers said. He was also giving Star an odd look, as if the pony had suddenly grown three heads. “But I don’t remember any epic songs about it. Besides...” He shifted uncomfortably where he sat. “It sounds like you ended up being the ones taking the beating. No offense,” he added hastily, “but usually songs like this doesn’t get made up for a loss.”
“The song wasn’t about the battle. It was made up because it’s one of the great tragedies in our history,” Star said. He looked up at the sky for a moment. “The legends have it that Aurora was betrothed to the Princess Celestia at the time. It’s said she went into mourning for a century afterwards.”
Taylor coughed. “A century? Jesus, she must have really had it for this guy.”
“Betrothal will do that to a pony, Taylor.” Midnight’s gaze was fixed on Star, and her voice was incredibly sad, enough to make the other pony look at her in surprise. “Love is one of the greatest feelings in the world.. .but it can also carry a burden and a price with it.”
“Yeah, well, I guess you’re right.” Taylor ran a hand through his hair slowly. “Sorry, I wasn’t making fun of it or anything. It does seem pretty raw and sad.”
“Well that there is ‘cause yoore listenen to th’ wrong version there, ey?” said a new voice from behind them. “I kinda like th’ one I learned a bit be’er d’ough, yah know, ey?”
Almost in unison, the group turned around to see a diminutive form crouched at the edge of the firelight. Dark brown feathers rustled in the breeze, and the scarlet eyes gleamed at them as the gryphon offered a sheepish smile.
“Oh, sorry there. I knew it’s rude to eavesdrop d’ere, ey, but I couldn’ ‘elp it. There aren’ many folks out ‘ere who ‘ave bonfire parties out in th’ open ‘ere, ey? I was a tad curious to say th’ least.” The eyes gleamed brighter as they spotted Thompson’s dinner roasting over the flames. “Oh, by the by, you gots any spare food d’ere, ey? I ‘avn’t eaten a while, you know -mountains and all that- and I could sure use a bite to eat, ey.”
Sword straightened up from the crouch he had reflexively dropped into and stared at the little gryphon in bewilderment. “What in Celestia’s name is this, now?”