//------------------------------// // Into the Dark Green: Chapter 3 // Story: Conflict in Bloom // by aDerangedBrony //------------------------------// Chapter 3 It was still dark when the platoons left the checkpoint. The road was well worn from the previous day’s traffic, and the guards at the gate said they were expecting more soldiers to pour through soon. They stuck to their schedule with military efficiency, and had rounded the bend and lost sight of the palisade as the sun teased the horizon behind them. The convoy was made up of twelve large supply wagons, each pulled by three ponies. The carts were protected by two ponies walking on each side, and another pony sitting on top of the cart. Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Storm were hooked up to the cart while Whisk sat on top, rifle at the ready, his eyes combing the forest on either side of the path. The chief sergeants of both platoons patrolled up and down the line, making sure every pony was either hauling hard or staying alert. The officers were moving among their enlisted ponies freely. “Why’d we end up doing the hauling, anyway?” huffed Sweetie Belle. “What, would you rather climb up here?” replied Whisk, “I’ll take exhaustion over a bullet to the head any day, thank you very much.” Sweetie Belle scoffed and retorted, “Oh, come on. There’s no way we’re seeing combat on the way there. They’re not going to attack a convoy of one hundred soldiers in broad daylight right after we sent hundreds of soldiers over the river. It’d be a suicide mission.” “What, and hitting the checkpoint wasn’t? You were with me on the palisade, you saw those crazy bastards the other night. If they’ve got the bollocks to charge head on into heavy fire like that, why the hay wouldn’t they take a vulnerable convoy by surprise?” Apple Bloom smiled as she interjected, “Because now they know who they’re dealing with. They won’t wanna mess with the Equestrian Expeditionary Infantry again too soon after the beating we gave ‘em last time.” Whisk opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off by a mighty roar. In a fraction of a second, he was flattening himself against the dark green tarpaulin cover of the cart, peering down the sites of his rifle. His heart pounded furiously as he scanned the forest for movement. After a moment, he realised that someone was laughing at him. Looking towards to source of the laughter, he saw Sergeant Avalon, who was sitting atop the wagon in front of him. “Bit jumpy, corporal?” she jeered. Another boom rang out and this time Whisk raised his head to see the source. Clouds of smoke were rising from somewhere in the distance. As the corporal strained to get a better look at the carnage, five pegasi flew overhead in single file. “Fire mission,” Whisk observed, “I wonder who called it in?” “The Air Force probably arranged it themselves. There probably wasn’t even a target there. Those ponies are used to practice ranges in the San Palomino. They need the practice,” Avalon replied. Apple Bloom could barely see the rising smoke, yet she was still awestruck by the sheer power the pegasi exerted. “Now why in the hay didn’t we get any of that kinda support when they attacked the checkpoint?” she demanded. “They’re pegasi. They were probably napping. Besides, air support isn’t nearly as effective as you’d think. Unless they really bomb the living hay out of the place, the slightest bit of cover, like this thick forest, can render the fire mission wasted. Plus, if there are friendlies nearby, it can easily backfire. The biggest problem is that it only takes one bullet or bit of flak to bring down a pegasi. If the enemy’s already got guns at the ready, every Air Force commander know that it’s a suicide mission.” “But of course most officers don't have a problem calling in suicide missions, ” Whisk added. *** The hours ticked by slowly. It was a cloudless day and the sun bore down relentlessly. Apple Bloom felt her uniform grow heavier with sweat. Every step was a struggle. Before long, the thought of being attacked was drowned out by sheer exhaustion. She was too tired to be scared. Hauling the wagon was a boring, strenuous task. The escorts and Whisk made small talk to pass the time, but the private didn’t know what they were talking about. She was drifting off into her own world. Just as she felt like she couldn’t go on any further, a loud bang rang out through the forest. Apple Bloom initially disregarded it as another practice run from the Air Force, but quickly realised something was wrong when the ponies around her started yelling. She was snapped back to reality as an almighty roar came from up the road. “Keep moving, keep moving!” some pony was yelling as the escorts dove for cover, leaving the unarmed haulers exposed. Some of the ponies atop the wagons were leaping down and hitting the dirt. Whisk and Avalon were among those who stayed put. “Come on,” Whisk roared as he took pot shots into the forest, “we’re sitting ducks! Pull, you bastards! Pull!” Trying her best to ignore the screams and gunfire around her, Apple Bloom began breathing heavily. With an enormous effort, she picked up the pace. She was stronger than the other two because of her background of manual labour, but after a moment she felt the burden ease as the unicorn and stallion mustered all their strength. Before she knew it, she was building up her pace. After a moment, she was trotting. Her mind was blank as she entered a full speed gallop. “Ease up, ease up!” some pony yelled. Apple Bloom took a deep breath and felt herself slowing down. Gazing around stupidly, she took in her surroundings. The convoy was proceeding as it was before, as if nothing had happened. Confused, she slowed to a walk. “Celestia be damned, girl, you’ve got some legs on you!” Whisk remarked, “nearly drove the whole convoy into a stampede, you did.” “What happened?” the mare asked, still practically in a stupor. “A few rebels blew up something in front of us and took a few pot shots at us. They were gone before we even returned fire. Probably trying to slow us down. No pony was hurt.” “I hope they don’t try it again, mah legs can’t handle another sprint.” “We’ve got to be close. One moment,” Whisk said to Apple Bloom, before turning the opposite way and yelling “Beg ya pardon, ma’am, but can ya give us an idea when-a-bouts we’ll be unloading, ma’am?” “Not long, corporal,” came the reply of a clear and deep voice, “should be less than an hour. It’ll probably take us the rest of the day to haul everything to the command post and set up.” “Aye aye, Captain, err, sir, err, ma’am! Yes ma’am!” stammered Whisk. “You’ve got the two new kids up front there, don’t you, Whisk?” “Yes, ma’am. Privates Bloom and Belle.” There was no reply, but Apple Bloom could almost sense the corporal shifting uncomfortably behind her. She saw Storm’s eyes widen as he tried to maintain a straight face. Some pony to her right cleared their throat, and Apple Bloom quickly turned to look. Captain Ugly lived up to her name. She was an aging yellow unicorn mare whose face was riddled with wrinkles and war wounds. The most prominent of these was what appeared to be a large burn on her left cheek. Her eyes, barely visible under perpetually squinting lids, were a dull brown. Her short gray mane was barely visible beneath her peaked cap, which bore the twin red bars of an Expeditionary Force captain. A necklace dangled about her neck. It seemed to be made of some kind of off-white bead. Apple Bloom couldn’t help but stare at it. The captain laughed, “The necklace tends to have that affect on ponies. I made it myself. Know what they are, private? Know what I decorated my necklace with?” Apple Bloom stared at the strange beads a moment longer, before gasping in sudden realisation. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, “those would be, err, teeth, ma’am.” “Of what animal, private?” The young mare made the mistake of hesitating. “Of what animal?” the captain repeated sternly, her good-humoured smile instantly morphing into an impatient glare. “Ponies, ma’am. They’re adult pony teeth.” “Exactly right, private,” Ugly said coldly as the smile returned to her face, “want to know why I wear a necklace of pony teeth?” Apple Bloom didn’t answer. She just kept walking. They hadn’t taught her how to deal with this in basic training. Officers were supposed to deliver short, clear orders and the enlisted ponies were supposed to obediently follow. “Why do you wear a necklace of pony teeth, ma’am?” Sweetie Belle asked when she realised her friend had fallen silent. “Good question, private!” the officer beamed, “Well, I like the keep a record of my accomplishments. I’ve got nine teeth here. Count them. One, two, three, four, five, six, seve, eight, nine. See? Nine. Take a guess how many commanding officer I’ve beaten, private.” “Nine, ma’am.” “Now, how’d you manage to guess that? You’re a real smart one, you are. The tradition started back when I was in the academy. Long before you were born. Our capstone project was to play a war game. I was leading the attacking team. When we stormed the enemy command post, the other guy panicked and ran straight into a tree, knocking a tooth out. He ran off in humiliation without bothering to collect it. So I did. I showed it to everyone at the academy bar that night as a bragging point. They thought it was brilliant. Sick, but brilliant. Since then, it’s kind of become a thing. It can be pretty awkward when the CO is still alive, and you have to force the tooth from their mouth.” Apple Bloom winced and clenched her teeth. It seemed so gruesome. The captain saw this and laughed. “I’m making you uncomfortable, private? That’s a shame. If my company isn’t wanted, I’ll go check on the other squads. See you at the command post.” With that, the mare trotted up to the next wagon. “That mare gives me the creeps,” Sweetie Belle said under her breath. “That mare is our best hope of getting through the Everfree alive.” Storm replied matter-of-factly, “There’s a reason she’s still got all her teeth, you know.” *** Apple Bloom was slipping into a stupor again when she heard someone cry, “Stop stop stop!” This was met by the chant of “Stop stop stop!” by every pony sitting on top of a cart. Within moments, the convoy ground to a halt. An indecipherable order was yelled at the front of the line. Avalon echoed the order as she climbed down from the wagon, “Everypony de-cart. Untie yourselves and wait for further orders.” A collective sigh of relief could be heard from the entire platoon as all the haulers undid their cumbersome harnesses and the team leaders climbed down from their vulnerable positions atop the wagons. The NCOs in the second platoon issued orders as they took their positions. They were crouching down, taking cover at the edge of the road. Apple Bloom stretched her limbs out as she noticed a young blue unicorn mare in a peaked cap climb atop the wagon in the centre of the convoy. “That’s Lieutenant Haymaker,” Storm informed the two newest soldiers, “platoon two’s CO. Real fancy intellectual type.” “Alright, guys,” Haymaker cried, struggling to project her voice loud enough for every pony to hear her, “platoon one got all our gear this far. Now it’s our turn. Every squad in my platoon will take our gear in saddle bags to the command post. For the first trip, one team from each squad will go unencumbered, acting as an escort. When we get to the clearing, I will stay with squad one to set up. Two, three and four will go back for the second load. This time, every team will carry something. Two and four from platoon one will be the escort. At this point...” Most of the soldiers were zoning out as the lieutenant droned on and on. It was still morning, but it had been a tiring day. They were just grateful for the moment of rest. Realising that she wasn’t being listened to, Haymaker stopped talking and scowled. She climbed down and allowed the captain to take her place. “Attention!” she boomed at a volume that must have reached Canterlot. She instantly had the attention of both platoons, so she smiled as she continued, “Platoon two’s heading into the forest first, then platoon one’s going to help ‘em out. Listen to your officers, chiefs and sergeants. Most of them have some idea of what’s going on. Sergeants, make sure you’re clear on what your squad has to do. Platoon two, make ready to move out!” After a few minutes of confusion, platoon two had loaded up saddle bags with some of the supplies from the carts. There was still a mountain of gear in the wagons that would need to be moved. Some of the soldiers carried folded up mortars or machine guns across their backs, but they would be useless if they were attacked on the trek through the forest, as they wouldn’t have time to set up. Satisfied that the platoon was ready to move, Haymaker cried out, “Platoon two, move out on me! We’re heading north. Stay close,” and led her soldiers into the forest. *** Apple Bloom stood to the side of the road next to Storm. It had been almost half an hour since platoon two had headed out into the forest. The mare could feel her pulse quicken. It shouldn’t take this long to trek less than a kilometre through the jungle. “What’s taking them so long?” she hissed. “Haven’t you ever been bush-bashing before?” Storm inquired sharply. Apple Bloom shook her head as she replied, “Nope. Never through forest this thick, anyway.” “Well, you’ll see why they’re taking so long once we follow them in. Hell, what we have to put up with is a hay of a lot easier than what platoon two’s dealing with right now. They’ll have already cleared a bit of a path for us.” The mare was about to reply when some movement in the forest caught her eye. Storm saw it too, and the pair half-raised their weapons. This could be an enemy. It could be a sudden suicide attack from a desperate rebel. It could be a scout studying their position in preparation for a massive assault. It took all of Apple Bloom’s self control to resist firing on the potentially life threatening figure. “Friendly,” the mare in the forest said when she saw the two ponies with their guns trained on her. As she exited the forest, Apple Bloom could see that she was wearing an Expeditionary Force uniform. She was shortly followed by the rest of her squad, who proceeded to load their saddle bags. “We’re up,” said Avalon as she walked to the threshold of the forest, “Bravo, on point with me. Charlie, behind us with platoon two. Alpha, bring up the rear.” “That’s us, kids,” Whisk said, joining Storm and Apple Bloom and beckoning Sweetie Belle to follow. The four ponies stood together silently as they watched their comrades load up and enter the forest. With a moment’s hesitation, Storm was the first of the four to follow everypony else. Sweetie Belle went in after him without a second thought. Dragging her hooves, Apple Bloom approached the dense foliage just off the track. She suddenly became very sick and nauseous. I felt like she’d swallowed a frozen brick. A cold breeze seemed to be flowing from the Everfree. It seemed so evil. “Go on, Bloom,” Whisk spoke softly, “stay in my sight and you’ll be fine. Trust me. I’ll be right behind you.” With a deep sigh, she braced herself. She swallowed hard and crossed the threshold into the dark green.