//------------------------------// // Redcoat // Story: Armor's Game // by OTCPony //------------------------------// The recruiters were out early in Ponyville Square. In front of Ponyville Town Hall were four tables, draped with Equestrian flags and coated with neat stacks of leaflets, enlistment forms, and some uniform items. Behind each sat two ponies in smart new uniforms, each more ornate than the last. A small crowd had already gathered when Twilight and her friends arrived. Ponyville was as polarised as the rest of Equestria over the army: some looked on with interest, others with looks of utmost loathing. “Um, Twilight,” whispered Fluttershy as they walked through the crowd. “Do we really have to be near all these soldiers? What if someone gets hurt?” “As Princess, I have to be seen supporting the decision,” said Twilight. “I don’t like the idea of war any more than you do, but it has to be done.” “And Applejack and Rainbow signing up should convince some of these other ponies that it’s the thing to do,” said Rarity. “And, oh my! Just look at those Artillery uniforms!” She gracefully waved a hoof at the pair of ponies sitting at the rightmost table, wearing smart, short jackets of red-faced blue and shakos bearing a brass badge showing a cannon on its limber. “Applejack? Rainbow?” squeaked Fluttershy. “You’re... you’re really doing this? You’re going off to war?” “Ah owe ta Princess Celestia,” said Applejack sternly. “It was me who got her into this whole darn mess. Least ah can do is do ma bit in it.” “I remember what those Changelings did to Canterlot,” growled Rainbow. “What they nearly did to us. I’m not letting that happen again.” “Right then,” muttered Applejack. She pulled a leaflet out from under her hat. It had been delivered to all homes across Equestria two days ago. On the cover was a pony soldier standing at attention. It was titled: THE ROYAL ARMY AND HOW IT WILL AFFECT YOU. “Ah want infantry,” she said, reading carefully. “Those are ma guys over there. Dashie, ah guess you want cavalry? They’re over ta the left.” “Thanks, AJ.” They exchanged a hoofbump, and trotted over to the recruiting tables. Applejack could feel every eye in Ponyville following her as she walked. Her throat was dry. She swallowed, but her heart was still in her mouth. Amid the rainbow of coloured fabric and gold braid that filled the square, two soldiers were conspicuous by their lack of ornamentation. Unlike the red and blue of other units, the recruiters for Ponyville’s infantry regiment wore a shade of green so dark it was almost black. Their brass buttons were un-shined, and the only other splashes of colour were the red facings on their collars and cuffs. Unlike the tall shakos or cocked hats of other units, they wore short fur caps bearing a green plume. It didn’t seem like a good sales tactic to Applejack; making yourself look invisible in a storm of colour, but then she saw the flag they had draped over the front of the table: it was a rectangular version of the Vexillum of Equestria, but in the centre of the circle formed by the Princesses, over the sun, were the bold words: VIII PRINCESS CELESTIA’S PONYVILLE LIGHT INFANTRY Below that, over Luna’s moon, was a scroll bearing the words III-BATTN. In the centre of the two was the regiment’s badge, a snarling Timberwolf. Oh, now that’s going to get attention, thought Applejack. She was only a few steps away from the table when she recognised the Earth Pony sitting there. “Cherry Fizzy?!” “Morning, Applejack,” said the tan stallion. “Thinking of signing up?” “Well, yeah, but ah didn’t think you’d be in the army.” “Reservist for one of the Guards’ Light Companies,” he said. “When we got word of the build-up I bought the Lieutenant Colonelcy and the put me to work setting out light infantry tactics. Major Meadow Song here is my Adjutant.” He nodded at the pip and crown on his shoulder straps. “I’m now O.C. of 3rd Battalion.” “Uh, the wha’ now?” “3rd Battalion, 8th Regiment of Hoof. Or as we prefer to call ourselves, Princess Celestia’s Ponyville Light Infantry.” “An’, uh, wha’ does tha’ do?” “The 8th isn’t your bog-standard line regiment,” said Meadow Song. “If you want to stand in line and get shot at, you’ll join them, but if you want to be the elite of the army, doing what no other pony soldier has for centuries, you’ll join us.” “In battle,” said Cherry Fizzy. “The regiment’s three battalions will disperse in front of the rest of the army. Unlike the line regiments, which have their ponies fire on command, we fight in individual pairs. Each pair uses cover, and makes sure every single shot counts. Line infantry can’t fight us off with volleys anymore than a flyswatter can hope to kill more than a single fly at once. By the time the rest of the army arrives to fight, the enemy’s harassed, demoralised, and utterly broken, and it’ll be chased off by a single volley.” “An’ there’s gonna by how many of y’all?” asked Applejack. “Three battalions or sommin’?” “Yeah. A battalion’s a thousand ponies. Caramel, Noteworthy and a few others are out recruiting in the other towns around here: Bree, Foggy Swamp, Chetwood, Combe, Saddle.” Cherry Fizzy smiled dangerously. “Think of it: three thousand skirmishers, recruited from the most dangerous part of Equestria. Changelings ain’t going to know what hit them.” “Huh? The most dangerous part o’ Equestria?” “You live next to the Everfree Forest, Applejack! Anypony who manages to weather what comes out of that place might as well qualify instantly! Why else do you think we picked this area for recruiting our elite unit?” An elite unit, thought Applejack. That sounded good. “You’ve got yerself a pony, Lieutenant Colonel. Sign me up!” *** “Should’ve known.” “I won’t let you down, Colonel Spitfire, ma’am!” barked Rainbow Dash. “It’s not that I’m concerned about.” The brilliant gold Pegasus swiped off her glasses. She wore a green-faced red cavalry jacket and a black leather cocked hat topped with a blue plume. She nodded at the pony to her left. “Soarin’ and I have had our careers as showponies, that’s why we signed up for this. But you, Rainbow, you’re still on reserve for the Wonderbolts. Are you sure you want to drop that for this?” “I saw what those Changelings did to Canterlot,” said Rainbow. “To Princess Celestia. To Twilight’s brother. I know what they’re doing to those Lynxes. I can’t stay here knowing other ponies would be out there fighting.” “That’s what I like to hear, Rainbow Dash,” said Spitfire, smiling. She put her glasses back on. She nodded at the gold-fringed green standard, hanging from an ornate pike that stood next to the table. In the corners of the flag were the letters II. D. In the centre of the standard was the badge of a rising phoenix in gold. Ringing that were the words; THE ROYAL CLOUDSDALE GREYS, and below that was a scroll bearing the words; SECOND TO NONE. “That’s what I intend to make us,” said Spitfire. “Second to None. Officially, we’re the 2nd Regiment of Dragoons. We and the regiments like us are the heavy hitters of the cavalry. We will charge the flanks of enemy formations and chase down routed troops. If necessary, we can fight on hoof like the ground-pounders. The fate of battles may hinge on us being at the right place in the right time. I need you to help me train this regiment.” “Me, ma’am?” “I saw you at Wonderbolt Academy, Rainbow Dash. You can take orders, but you’ll never be just a cog in the machine. You could be an officer.” “An... an officer, ma’am?” “You’d lead ponies in the field, be responsible for them in camp, plan the battles. Do you like the sound of that?” “Yes, ma’am! Where do I sign up?” Soarin’ slid over a form. “Sign there. You’ll also need to pay a three hundred bit deposit for your commission.” Rainbow’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. You buy rank?” “It’s not what you might think,” said Spitfire quickly. “You still have to pass a test before you go into officer training. If you fail, you’ll get your deposit back. If you pass, it’ll go on to cover the cost of your Cornetcy.” “What about ponies that can’t pay?” “If they get in the top grade bracket in the test, they’ll progress to training without needing to pay. Do you still want to sign up?” “Yes, ma’am!” Rainbow brought her left hoof up in salute. Spitfire chuckled. “Well, that’s one thing that’ll need correcting. Welcome aboard, Rainbow Dash.” *** Seeing two local figures as prominent as Applejack and Rainbow Dash signing up seemed to trigger something in the rest of the crowd. Moments later, a trickle of ponies ventured forward, which soon became a slow stream. Small queues began to form at the tables, and in spite herself, Twilight smiled. “Princess? What’s so funny?” Twilight turned to see Mayor Mare standing next to her. The distinguished-looking Earth Pony had never quite been able to accept that she still preferred to be called “Twilight”, so she called her by the semi-formal title “Princess” instead of “Your Highness”. “It’s just ironic, Margaret,” said Twilight sadly. “I spent months trying to get Princess Celestia to increase civic participation, and now they’re doing it so we can go to war.” Hayseed Turnip Truck joined his cousin in signing up for the 8th Regiment of Foot. So did Gee Raff, Clip Clop and Pig Pen. Some, however, were a little too enthusiastic. “When’s your birthday?” asked Meadow Song, frowning at the enlistment form. “February 12th 967,” said Snips in an unconvincing baritone. “You’re thirty-six?” demanded Cherry Fizzy. His eyes narrowed. “It’s illegal to falsify your enlistment form, you know.” “Shucks,” muttered Snails. “I knew this wasn’t going to work, Snips!” “What do you mean?! It was your idea!” Thunderlane, Blossomforth, and Bulk Biceps all followed Rainbow Dash into the Royal Cloudsdale Greys. Dance Fever (he apparently liked the look of the uniform) and Persnickety signed up for the Royal Artillery, though an apologetic Major Rolling Thunder had to dismiss a tearful Hay Fever immediately on health grounds. Jeff Letrotski, Walter, Donny, Jesús Pezuña, and Hugh Jelly all found themselves drawn to the wheel-and-crossed-axes of the Royal Army Supply Corps. The recruiters ended the day with their quotas a third fulfilled. Cherry Fizzy wasn’t worried. They were here all week, and he’d handed out a good number of leaflets to the undecided. Any anti-war ponies had stayed silent. It was a good first day for the Royal Army. *** “You mean to tell me Celestia will fight?!” The Changeling messenger took a step backwards, assailed by the cloud of pheromones. Queen Chrysalis was shocked and surprised at his news. “Yes, My Queen. Our spies in Equestria confirm it. Celestia is assembling an army. Doubtless it will march south as soon as it is ready?” “And that will be when?” “We cannot say, My Queen, but not soon.” Chrysalis paced around the room in the ruined palace. She and half a dozen of the Hives’ greatest Lords, the only Changelings other than her permitted names, had been discussing strategy when the messenger arrived. The room was bare: the hive-minded Changelings needed no maps or notes to help them plan. Now they watched as their Queen thought, her pheromones betraying her emotions. First disbelief, then worry, then...amusement? “This could not have come at a better time,” she proclaimed. “We have the chance to defeat Celestia’s army on our own terms. Her land will be left naked, demoralised and defenceless. Once we have completed the digestion of the Lynxes, we can comfortably assault Equestria. “There is only one way through the Appleloosan Mountains,” she continued. “An abandoned Diamond Dog mine. Twilight Sparkle and her gang eluded us in it on their quest last year. It will not happen again. Lord Pupa?” One of the Changeling officers looked up. “My Queen?” “How much love have we gathered from the Lynxes so far?” “Enough for ten months of high-intensity operations, My Queen.” “It will do.” She turned to the messenger. “You must go to the front at once. Instruct Lord Cocoon that he is to cease his general advance and instead secure the Great Trunk Road up to the Appleloosan Mountains. We will lay our ambush at the mine’s entrance. He is to use all assets at his disposal to stop the ponies, including our...special weapons.” “That is quite an escalation, My Queen,” said Lord Pupa. “It matters not,” she said dismissively. “I swear to you all, as Queen of the Hives, that by this time next year, Equestria will be ours.” *** “Lieutenant Telescope.” The Pegasus stallion bowed stiffly. “Your Highness.” “Please, Lieutenant,” said Shining Armor. “Take a seat.” Still breathing heavily, Telescope sank into one of the chairs around the map table. He and his platoon had just flown the hundreds of miles from the Royal Guard’s watchtower in Southern Equestria. They had set off in the early morning. It was now six in the evening. “What happened, Lieutenant?” asked Shining Armor, as the General Staff crowded round. The bronze-coloured Pegasus took several deep breaths. “I’m sorry, sir, there was nothing we could do. It was just...” “Take your time, Lieutenant.” Telescope took another calming breath. “They came for us at 0600, sir, right out of the Forest of Leota. Must’ve been at least five thousand of them. We held out for as long as we could but, well, there were twenty-five of us.” “Any casualties?” “None, thank Celestia. But we were lucky, sir. They had those damn ballistas with them. By the time I gave the order to retreat, the tower was half a ruin. We burnt anything we couldn’t carry. I had my ponies spread out as we flew. I, uh, well I think you’ll be interested in these, sir.” He opened his saddlebag with a wing and pulled out a thick bundle of parchment. “Aerial photographs, sir. We got a good look of the Great Trunk Road and the area around it.” Colonel Crystal Thought took the photographs and spread them over the map table, eyes darting from one to the next as she made her preliminary analysis. After a moment she hissed, “Buck...” “That bad, Colonel?” asked Shining Armor, nonchalantly. “Uh,” stammered Thought. “What I mean to say sir, is that I think word’s got out to the Changelings. If we look at the troop columns moving here, here and here, you can see that they’ve broken off their northern advance. The ones in this shot are heading east while these ones are heading west. They’re converging on the Great Trunk Road.” Shining Armor scraped a hoof against the ground angrily. “We weren’t going to be able to keep this secret for long,” he muttered. “You’re certain they’re moving against us, Lieutenant?” “Almost certainly, sir.” Telescope hunted through the pile of photographs. “Here, sir. They’re converging at this point on the south face of the Appleloosan Mountains. We lost count trying to work out how many of them there are.” Clear Dunes stared at the hundreds of square formations that covered the ground in the photograph. “Spirits above, there must be thousands of them!” “There’s worse, sir,” said Telescope. He pointed with a wing. “Do you see these things here, covering this mine entrance?” “Celestia damn it!” cursed Crystal Thought again. “Sir, they’ve got cannon. They must have agents who bought it in from overseas.” “And right in front of the mine my sister took on her last visit south,” growled Shining Armor. “Colonel Dunes, we need another route across these hills, preferably one that puts us at least two days’ march from that Changeling army. If we try to force that pass we’ll be massacred.” “My staff’s looking into it right now, sir, but there are very few roads through that region.” Shining Armor turned to the map dominating one of the room’s walls and swept his eyes over the Appleloosan Hills. To go west would be to march through the San Palomino Desert – an imposing task in its own right – which would bring the army perilously close to the quarantined site of the dread Battle of Discord. To go east would be to march through the impassable, malarial Swamps of New Horseleans. If he could just go up the middle somehow... “What about here?” he demanded, pointing his hoof at a horseshoe-shaped hill formation. “Through the Badlands, sir?” asked Clear Dunes. “That’s an... ambitious prospect.” “This gap here, though,” he said. “Surely it’s the sign of a river having run through there once?” “Potentially, sir.” “I want the possibility of marching through there thoroughly investigated. The riverbed could well lead us over those mountains.” He turned to Lieutenant Telescope. “Lieutenant, well done today. Ensure that you and your men have a good night’s rest. You’ve earned it.” “Yes, sir!” Telescope saluted sharply and marched from the room. Shining Armor watched him go. “Promote him to Captain,” he ordered. “Colonel Thought, appoint him to your staff.” *** Today, Officer Cadet Rainbow Dash felt, was really her first day of officer training. Officially, she’d been in training for nearly two months, but after she’d bought her commission and passed the Officer Initial Entry Examination, she’d had to spend those first months with the ranks in the Cloudsdale Camp, drilling, shooting, exercising, and generally being beasted with the rest of them. They’d been assigned two hours every night, when the other ranks got time off, to pore over the Royal Army’s drill books to ensure the commands were firmly stuck in their heads. The rankers just needed to know how to respond to commands: they needed to know what commands to use, when to use them and how to check they were being done correctly. A lot of ponies had dropped out at that stage. Some had been astounded that simply buying their commission didn’t immediately give them a platoon or troop to command. Rainbow Dash, though, had been determined to stay on, to fulfil the promise she’d made that day at the recruiting stand in Ponyville. She would be an example to everypony around her. Two weeks ago she and all the other troopers of the Royal Cloudsdale Greys had had the moment they’d all been waiting for: the charge practice. They’d swapped the heavy, one-piece boiler suits they’d begun their training in for the brilliant red, short and tight jackets of the cavalry, and the troopers had exchanged their blank black berets for bearskin shakos. Rainbow had been given an officer’s cocked hat. Then, swords drawn, they’d charged with a single aim: be the first to spear the ring that was sitting three hundred yards down the field. In the end, the race had been between her and Colonel Spitfire, and her C.O. and her regiment had watched in amazement as she’d raced ahead and caught the ring on her sword. That evening more than a few troopers had approached her for fitness tips. The next morning, the officer cadets had gathered in the armoury to have their names and dates of commission etched onto their swords, and then they’d been packed off to the Officers’ Academy in Canterlot for the next stage of their training. Surrounding her in the lecture theatre were hundreds of other ponies, all in their new officers’ uniforms. She could see dragoons like her: a few officer cadets of the 1st Life Guards Regiment sat aloof from the rest, their jackets faced with gold and decorated with aiguillettes, with black plumes shooting from cocked hats badged with a winged crown. White-plumed with pink facings, cadets from the 7th (Los Pegasus) Regiment of Dragoons sat in the row in front of her, gold cap badges showing a sun rising from behind a cloud. Three from the 4th (Royal Manehattans) were in the row behind her, their facings yellow and their cap badge four windmill sails and a crown, wreathed in laurels. There were cadets from the infantry as well, from the 1st Crystal Guard Regiment, conspicuous in their green, to the 8th Regiment of Hoof. Rainbow Dash felt a kick as she saw their sombre uniforms and thought of Applejack. Her friend hadn’t gone in to be an officer, and it would be weird to hear her call her “ma’am”, if the two of them could even remember to do it. The cadets of the 5th (Royal Shetlanders) Regiment of Hoof drew her eye, and they seemed to be getting a few more glances from the rest of the lecture theatre, particularly the mares. In place of cocked hats they wore tall, fluffy feather bonnets with a brilliant red hackle. Barely visible amid the black feathers was their cap badge: a rampant Manticore atop a Saltire. Around their flanks they wore kilts in red Royal Shetland tartan. By far the most ostentatious cadets there, though, were the hussars: Pegasi of the 8th, 9th, and 10th – Royal Whinnysotan, Whinnyapolis, and Imperial Crystal – Hussars sat there, crushed by the weight of their gold lace. They wore heavily-braided dark blue dolmans, with fur-trimmed pelisses thrown rakishly over one shoulder. Heavily-decorated sabretaches bearing the Royal Cipher hung from their sword belts, and they wore fur busbies with coloured bags hanging down from one side to protect against sword cuts. Unlike Rainbow’s own straight sword, theirs was the curving, cruel-looking Pattern 796 Light Cavalry Sabre. “Brace up!” barked the Sergeant. Rainbow Dash rapidly sat up straight. The sound of hundreds of ponies sitting up filled the lecture theatre as General Sir Warding Ember strode in. “Thank you, mares and gentlestallions,” said Ember. “Please, relax.” Warding Ember cut an impressive figure. His Royal Guard Regiment uniform was far more understated than the gold lace-laden jackets of the Hussars, yet he seemed to wear it much better than them. Maybe it was the calm, purposeful walk of an experienced officer. The row of medals on his left breast confirmed that experience. He laid his cocked hat down on the desk, cleared his throat, and began. “Well, everypony, you’ve made it this far, so congratulations are in order. You’ve passed the first phase of your training. I must warn you, however, that there will be no let up after this point. “You spent two months marching, flying and shooting with the ranks. You know how to march, you know what the commands are, and you know to respond to them. You know how to be led. The question is; can you lead? “That is what you will learn in the rest of your training. We will teach you how to command ponies in the field and how to care for them out of battle. While you lead your units, you will also serve them, as you serve Equestria. “Whether you serve in the infantry, the cavalry, the artillery or logistics, you will become the best we can make you.” *** From the other side of the hill came the rattle of snare drums; the incessant PLAN rat a PLAN rat a PLAN rat a... “OLD trousers OLD trousers OLD trousers...” chanted somepony to Applejack’s left. A giggle spread along the line. “Silence in the ranks!” barked the Sergeant. Private Applejack swiped the smile from her muzzle and gripped her spear more tightly. Beyond the brow of the hill she could hear the thump of a thousand hooves marching, and the crash of a thousand spear butts being driven into the ground as they marched. It was just a training exercise, she told herself. Two of the regiment’s battalions facing each other with fake weapons. They’d been drilling for weeks, and now it was time to see if they’d picked it up. There was no real danger, but still she worried about letting the ponies around her down. All of the ponies in Princess Celestia’s Ponyville Light Infantry were big – living in a farming town would do that to you – but Applejack was heavier-set and more muscular than most: Sweet Apple Acres wouldn’t have become the most successful farm in Moscolt if she hadn’t pulled her weight. While some panted and struggled on the march, her equipment felt scarcely heavier than the ploughs and apple barrels she’d pulled since she was a filly. She made a mental check of her equipment: broad black leather crossbelts met over her chest, with an un-shined brass plate at their intersection. They and another leather strap over her back connected to two saddlebags, the Pattern 957 Load-Bearing Equipment. It was weighed down with a spare uniform, a shelter half, two days’ rations, boot cleaning kit, cooking gear, wash kit, weapon cleaning kit, her carefully-folded hat, a bag of apple tarts Granny Smith had sent from home... A rolled grey greatcoat was strapped to her back atop it all. A web belt ran just above her forelegs, holding a water flask, a dump pouch and a utility knife in easy reach. In her left hoof she gripped her spear, officially known as the Short Land Pattern 793 Spear, but universally nicknamed the Long Luce, after the irritable Sergeant who’d taught them weapons drill. It was nearly four feet of polished oak tipped with a plywood point. In battle that would be replaced by an iron tip, but as Twilight had told her in her most recent letter, plywood was the least-magical of woods, which made it perfect for producing blank shots for field exercises. Along the battalion line stood a thousand similar figures, clad in sombre green, their busbies plumed with green pom-poms. The officers carried slim, straight gilt-hilted swords, and showed their status with crimson sashes knotted around their barrels, rare splashes of colour in the battalion. The Sergeants wore sashes with a green stripe and carried simpler swords at their sides. In their hooves they clutched spontoons. Ten identical companies (the Light Infantry had no Grenadier Company) were spread along the reverse of the slope. In the centre of it all sat the colours: The Princesses’ Colour, which Applejack had seen all those weeks ago at the recruiting stand; the Regimental Colour, which bore the regiment’s name and number, wreathed in laurels, on a green field with the Equestrian flag in the canton, and in front of it all, the Vexillum of Equestria. Lieutenant Colonel Cherry Fizzy crouched a hundred yards in front of them on the brow of the hill, gazing intently into the valley beyond. Then, as the noise grew louder and the drum beats coalesced, he leapt up and trotted back to the battalion. “BATTALION!” he barked. Applejack and her comrades braced up. “BATTALION, SHUN!” A thousand ponies brought their legs together and slammed their hooves and spear butts into the ground. “BATTALION, BY THE CENTRE, QUICK MARCH!” The entire line, ten companies long and three ranks deep, marched off on the left hoof. The drums behind them tapped out the pace. Ponies stole glances to the centre to get their dressing off the colours. Officers and Sergeants chivvied here and there to ensure the ranks stayed closed up. The battalion crested the hill, and Applejack gasped as she saw something unlike anything she’d ever seen before: a massive column of green-clad ponies of the 2nd Battalion, standing company after company in a two-company front, fifty yards wide and nearly twice as deep. Walking behind them, high-visibility vests over their red uniforms were the Training Sergeants, making note of everypony’s performance. At the head of the battalion was Colonel Noteworthy, and his eyes went wide and his mouth fell open as he realised the trap he’d just marched in to. “BATTALION!” roared Cherry Fizzy over the din. “HALT!” The drums went silent instantly. The battalion marched a further three paces before it slammed its hooves and spear butts down. 2nd Battalion’s column was now three hundred yards away, though it moved considerably more slowly now as they saw 3rd Battalion’s line. “FRONT RANK, MAKE READY!” roared Cherry Fizzy. The drums beat the short roll of the “preparative”; Captains took shelter behind their companies. Applejack and three hundred and thirty other ponies concentrated and sent the final squib of magic into their Long Luces that set them ready to fire. The column was not even a hundred yards away now and was closing, and they could hear the shouts of Noteworthy’s officers and NCOs shouting “Steady, everypony! Close up!” “PRESENT!” yelled Cherry Fizzy. “...FIRE!” The front rank fired a volley of shattering precision. “FRONT RANK, CHARGE AND PRIME!” roared Cherry Fizzy. “SECOND RANK, MAKE READY... PRESENT... FIRE!” A second devastating barrage thundered out, flashes from spearpoints temporarily blinding their users. Training Sergeants raced around 2nd Battalion’s column, tapping ponies on the back. They lay down on the ground, “dead” for the purposes of the training exercise. Noteworthy was among them. The front of the column fell like apples being bucked from a tree, Applejack thought. The ponies in the rear of the column tripped and stumbled over their “dead” comrades. Some, oblivious to the shouts of their officers, paused to fire back. “SECOND RANK, TAKE POSITION REAR!” shouted Cherry Fizzy. “REAR RANK, BY PLATOONS, FIRE!” The battalion’s third rank shouldered forward. Applejack ducked into a crouch as spears were thrust past her and fired. Firing by half-companies, a devastating, rolling, unending storm of volleys thundered from the line into the wreck of the column. Applejack watched with a smile on her face as in front of her more and more ponies were tapped and fell. Less than a minute later, the remains of Noteworthy’s battalion utterly collapsed and staggered back down the hill. As the first light of dawn broke over Moscolt’s fields, cheers erupted from 3rd Battalion’s line that the Sergeants were either unable or unwilling to stop. Applejack reared up on her back legs and seized her busby in her free hoof. “YEE-HAW!” *** A month later, Shining Armor stood atop a platform outside Canterlot. The Marching Field was a huge, almost perfectly flat expanse of grass outside the capital that was used for Trooping the Colour and other official functions. Only a small portion of it was ever used at one time, and it was large enough to fit all fifty thousand ponies of the Royal Army. Spread out in front of him were the Royal Army’s twenty-seven infantry battalions, ten cavalry regiments, twenty-four artillery batteries and train, and eight supply battalions. He’d chosen his position perfectly: his platform, with his staff in glistening uniforms behind him, was positioned directly in front of the majestic, snow-capped Reinine Range. The city of Canterlot perched on the Canterhorn directly above him. General Blackfire had done a spectacular job: he’d managed to reduce the training programme to three months without having to cut out too much, though the cost had been intensive cramming in what training periods they had. About seven percent of the recruits had found it too difficult and dropped out, and Shining Armor still worried that his ponies might be undertrained when it came to battle. He tried to tell himself that it wouldn’t be a problem: even half-trained, the Royal Army possessed a colossal military advantage over the Changelings in its weapons. It was difficult convincing himself, though. He stepped forward and began. “Mares, gentlestallions,” he said, his voice magically enhanced. “Soldiers, NCOs, officers. You stand here today because you have completed your training. For many of you, it was the hardest thing you have ever done and ever will do. For this, as your Commander-in-Chief, I am proud of every one of you. “Soon, we will march south against the Changelings. The uniform that you wear; the cap badges that you have earned, will make the difference between the freedom of a race, and its enslavement. The Changelings assaulted the Lynxes with the aim of turning them into nothing more than food. It will be the Royal Army’s duty to repel this barbaric assault. “You, the ponies of the regiments and the batteries, will be the ones who do this. The orders will come from the brass and you’ll get it done. And whenever this war is over, when we have swept across Froud Valley and the Changeling Kingdom, and ensured that never again can they launch another invasion, the strategy will have been decided by others. But the battles will have been fought, the ground will have been gained, the victory will have been won by you. You! The officers and men! With the swords and spears in your hooves and the dust on your boots! “Remember, we go south to liberate, not to conquer. I have been amongst the Lynxes before, and you will struggle to find a more decent, generous and upright people. You will be embarrassed by their hospitality even though they have nothing. “It is my foremost intention to bring every single one of you home alive, but there are those here today who will march south and will not return north. Such is the nature of war. We will send them home with dignity, and we will know they died for what was right. “The Changelings should be in no doubt that we are their nemesis and that we are bringing about their rightful destruction. Not just Chrysalis, but every one of her commanders have stains on their souls for their actions in this war. She and her forces will be destroyed by this Army for what they have done, both to the Lynxes and to Equestria. As they die they will know their deeds have brought them to this place. Show them no pity. “Learn from your superiors. Listen and care for your subordinates. Look after your friends. Make it your goal to bring your friends home, and leave the Lynx Territories a better place for us having been there. “Our business now is south.”