//------------------------------// // Charge // Story: Warmongers // by TheNocturnalLoner //------------------------------// Silence. Deafening silence. This assaulted the ears of a young mare who was part of the 23rd Royal Infantry Division. Opening her eyes, they were bombarded with blinding flashes of light that threw up fountains of earth and ponies through the air. The humans had called in their thunder from the sky and it was tossing ponies and their bloody pieces every which way. It all seemed so strange and surreal to her, seeing all of this without sound. For she knew that each deadly missile screamed as it came in, then thundered as it exploded while ponies screamed in pain and in fear. One of these strange objects had exploded next to her, tossing her to where she currently laid as well as stealing her hearing. Dazed, she tried to roll upright and stand. She found that she could not, as her body refused to obey her commands. She felt numb all over, as if she had been submerged into a sea of cotton. A tingling sensation spread from her neck to the rest of her body. After a few seconds she found she could move her body again. Rolling herself upright slowly, her head pounded with pain and a nausea that threatened to make her vomit. She could not suppress the feeling, and turned her head to the side and upchucked her half digested breakfast of oats. Wiping her mouth with her hoof, she could only stare dumbfounded as she watched her division (or the remains of it) continue to charge the entrenched human position. Celestia had personally motivated her division and asked them to defeat this small force of humans. As a result many fanatically charged the position, regardless of life or limb. Not her, she only snorted in disgust as several careless ponies were felled by what the humans called a ‘machinegun’. She did not believe in Celestia’s opinion that all humans should be eradicated. She did not say such a thing however, doing so could make you disappear. So like any good soldier, she kept her thoughts to herself, her mouth shut, and did what she was told. She knew this attack was a doomed suicide mission. Their enemy was entrenched and had their cannons on treads with them. They thought they might have a chance at victory, no matter how small it was. She gave up that thought when she saw the humans’ metal birds in the sky and when the rain of thunder began. Several of her comrades sprinted past her as a loud ringing in her ears deafened her once more. The ringing stopped and was abruptly replaced by the chaotic sounds of battle. The screaming and explosions of the thunder missiles, the yells of her comrades, the cries of the wounded and the dying, and the ever present chatter from the humans’ rifles and machineguns. Collecting herself, she knew she had to carry on with the attack or die a coward. She pushed herself up shakily and took a step forward. She fell into a heap, but tried to get up again. Again she fell, to her great frustration. Becoming aware of the feeling of pain, she looked at her legs and sides. She was bleeding from her left side and left legs. The missile had wounded her and left her unable to stand. Still losing blood, she put pressure on her wounds and cried out for a medic. To her dismay, the only ones she saw were too far away to hear her or dead. Hurriedly she applied the bandages she kept with her on her wounds. They would hold until she received proper medical treatment. After a short while of crying out, a medic finally came to her to properly dress her wounds. He worked quickly, his face devoid of emotion or empathy. He had seen much death and it made him hardened to the harsh realities of the world. Earth and metal flew around him as he worked, giving him the appearance of some invincible saviour. “You’re lucky the fragments didn’t puncture any organs.” He said emotionlessly. She only grunted in response as he tightened the bandages around her wounds. The sound of rushing air became audible and both ponies cringed in fear of their incoming deaths. “Get down!” The medic screamed as he shoved her flat to the ground. He then threw himself on top of her. The impact shook the ground violently and the last thing she heard was the angry explosion of the earth. ----------------------------------- Silence. Silence greeted the ears of the mare as she stirred from her forced slumber. This time her hearing was not stolen from her, the cawing of gore crows confirmed that. She jolted awake, remembering what happened before she blacked out. Surely she is dead, there is no way she could have survived. Forcing her eyes open, the same battlefield greeted her. The only difference was that there was more blood, a few more craters, and more bodies littering the field. Gore crows and vultures were mercilessly picking at the bodies and she forced herself to look away. The battle was over. Whether her division won or lost, she knew not. Her eyes fell to the macabre sight at her feet. The medic who dressed her wounds was laying before her. His bottom half was missing and his entrails were strewn out from his torso and onto the ground that was slick with his blood. She almost vomited again, but restrained herself. He had shielded her and he had saved her. A thin smile was on his lifeless face. Seeing this, she wanted to cry. Why should he have died, while she was unscathed from the second missile!? Why!? Tears formed in her eyes as she began to weep openly. She brought up her hooves to cover her face, but stopped when she noticed they were covered in dried blood. In fact, she noticed that almost her entire yellow body was covered in the crimson liquid of life. Suddenly, she realized that all of this blood probably came from the medic when he was blown in half. Saddened even further, another wave of nausea overcame her as she vomited for a second time. Plunging into depression she buried her hooves into her face, disregarding the dried blood on them. She wailed for what was lost on this day. Her comrades, the humans, and the medic. She also cried for those that she had killed and regretted some of her past actions. She had slain a defenseless human family just because she was ordered to. How would she justify that to the judges of the afterlife? That she was ordered to do it, that it was beyond her power? No. She was responsible for her own actions, and she had willingly carried out her orders. Emptying all of her regret, sorrow, and guilt, she cried and she wept. For countless minutes she did so, as the faces of her dead comrades and her victims haunted her. Voices in the distance snapped her out of her despair temporarily. Abandoning her sadness, she thought that her comrades were searching for survivors and that they had triumphed. With tears still in her eyes, she looked up excitedly for her fellow soldiers. What she saw was not what she expected. Four figures were walking toward her, and indeed they were the voices that she had heard. Her joy turned into fear and sadness once again as she was able to make out the figures. They were taller than a pony, walked on two legs, and held rifles in their hands. They were humans.