James walked up to Blue Fur as the tank rolled out of it's tent. By common consent of the officer corps, the official name of the vehicle was a tank, although the common soldiers had taken to calling this particular model a barrel as well as those who had made it. Blue Fur had named it the F2ME; First (of it's kind), 2nd design, Model; Equestria.
It had gone through a small modification; a coupling rod connected the front and back wheels for added pushing power. A small change, but this first test was going to see what sort of teething troubles the tank was going to have.
"Sir," one of the soldiers said to Blue Fur, "Our commander's sick with fever, and he's too weak for the test."
"Blast it!" the engineer pony cursed, stomping his hoof in frustration. "Who else can I trust?"
"Me," James said. He wasn't alone in saying that; Rolling Barrel had volunteered the instant he had.
"Ah," the blue-gray pony said, turning around and nervously wiping his glasses, "I, er... Generals, with all due respect, we don't know if these vehicles will even do what we want them to - and what would happen if a first-class general was killed or injured in an accident?"
"All the more reason we should go," James replied. "The soldiers need to see that these things can be safely piloted, and if one of us goes, the lower ranks might be more willing to join, if we manage to build more than just the prototype."
"Besides, I want to get rolling in one," Barrel added. "They might not be very fast, but it doesn't take a genius to see that all it would take is a massive hammer blow from a hundred or so to crack the Griffon lines."
"I suppose we'll take the command role in turns," James said. "I'll go first; every so often, we'll switch. Hopefully our anti-air crews are on station to repel any would-be scouts; the last thing we need is for the enemy to know what we're up to."
"We could just hoard the tanks until we have to use them," Nightshade suggested.
"No. No soldier should go into battle not knowing if his weapons will work. If it doesn't..."
"Yeah, I see your point. In the meantime sir, I'm going to get out of this sun; thestrals don't do well in the daytime."
"Make sure you're up for the night shift, and maybe I won't mind."
"Ha ha." The Night Guard walked away.
"Is the crew good?" James asked.
"Well, considering I've enlisted a former locomotive engineer, a couple artilleryponies, and a random unicorn, I'd say the prototype has what it needs, except for a commander, which you'll be playing."
"I guess there's nothing else to say. Come on, Colonel, we might as well."
"Looking forward to it, sir."
James climbed up the rungs on the tank and hoisted himself in; Rolling Barrel followed a few seconds later.
"Ah, general," said a member of the crew - when James looked around, he saw that it was in fact the unicorn in responsible for the shield. "Wondered whether you would be watching."
"I intend to do more than watch. Me and the colonel here will be alternating as commander."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yes."
"Well, if you're sure..." The unicorn, a white one, stretched. "I am, or was, a medic, so at least I can help anypony - or anyone - who gets hurt."
"We might have need of your skills when this is over." James had seen the rules and details of the test about to take place. The tank would be put through it's paces; crossing a number of ditches, rolling over potholes, even fired upon by obsolete medieval period cannons, just to see what it could be put through. A small, wood-and-canvas village with a garrison of dummies and soldiers armed with stones - to simulate explosives - and pellet rounds - ammunition that, if they actually hit anyone, would do no lasting damage, though they had the potential to bruise - was to be tackled last.
James climbed up into the commander's seat. It gave him a decent view, though he wished for more. "At the sound of the whistle, we'll start," he said into the speaking tube for the driver; the engine was loud, and out of necessity such devices had been put in place. "Don't move until I give the word."
"Understood, sir."
A long whistle sounded as the referee started the trial.
"Take us out."
"Yes sir."
James grabbed onto the speaking tube as the tank began moving forward. The sudden jerk had caught him a little off balance, but he recovered quickly. "Don't go full speed yet, I want caution to be our main concern. And as for everyone else," he said, switching to the tubes for the unicorn and gunners, "keep those side hatches closed throughout the test, until we get to the town."
"Got it."
"Aye, sir."
"Roger."
James took a moment to monitor their progress so far. At about four miles an hour, the tank was going forward at half speed. Even going full out, it would be slow, and a target for artillery. Assuming the enemy gunners were not firing over open sights and were using indirect fire, that might not pose as much of a problem as it would have for the normal soldiers who would be going forward with the tank. Of course, the obsolete cannons in the test had to use direct fire. Not that he expected they would penetrate; he'd tried to make the test reasonably accurate without risk to the crew. If the shield worked like it was supposed to, it wouldn't be much of an issue, though he was sure the armor could keep the ancient ordinance from penetrating.
"What's your name?" he called to the unicorn.
"Red Cross, sir."
"Activate the shield. I'm not sure just when we'll start taking fire, but I want to make sure we're ready when it happens."
"Yes sir." Over the rumble of the engine, James heard something. "Shield system activated, sir."
"I noticed," James said. And he had; a faint, pinkish barrier surrounded the tank. "Hopefully we can fire through it, instead of having to take it down every time we have to fire."
"Ugh," came the voice of the gunner. "I wouldn't like to be the fellow who had that happen to him."
"Coming to the first ditch," James announced. "Hang on. Driver, slow us down to three miles per hour."
"Yes sir."
The tank lurched forward as it began crossing the ditch. For a few seconds, James thought it was going to catch there and get stuck, but the front wheel caught the opposing edge, and the tank evened out quickly enough."
"So far, so good. Let's try it a little faster. Go to five miles an hour."
"Aye."
The tank reached the second ditch, which was a little wider than the first one. The same process went through; the tank plunged, then caught on the other side and pulled through.
"Very good." James saw a number of ponies trying to hide on a ridge up ahead. "Heads up, gunners. Load."
"Loading blanks, sir."
"I've seen cannons like that in museums," Barrel commented. "If I remember right, these models were last in use around the time of Nightmare Moon's attempted takeover."
"Let's hope they have nothing on modern armor." James watched as the gunners slowly loaded as they approached the third ditch. These ancient cannons would have been as much a danger to their crews as to the enemy in their time; he remembered how often medieval cannons exploded during sieges, and how lucky one side was if only a few of it's guns blew up in the course of the investment. Blue Fur had taken precautions, strengthening the barrels so that they were unlikely to explode on firing, but he still worried...
He saw a puff of smoke and heard the BOOM! over the noise of the engine. The cannonball struck the shield and bounced off, causing a ripple effect in the barrier but otherwise causing no harm.
"How much energy did that take?"
"The meter went down a little, but not much," Red Cross replied. "Those old guns don't have the punching power to do anything more."
Another gun in the distance went off. This one sailed over the tank, missing it entirely. "God, I hope that doesn't hit someone," James muttered. He would have to have a talk with the gunners up ahead once the trial was over. Again, they'd done what they could to minimalize the chance of injury - or worse, death - but a random miss might happen to...
No. I'm not putting nay of those images in my mind, damn it. I will talk to them afterward, but these are ancient cannons, without rifling. Maybe I should be a little less critical.
Another couple of cannonballs struck the shield, with the same results as the first. "At least we know this damn thing works," he said aloud. "Feed more magic into the machine as you see fit, Red. I don't want to have to have a dent buffed out."
"Understood, General."
James felt the tank rock, as though it were a ship at see. "There we go over the holes. So far, we're holding up. Aim at the left couple of guns."
"Got it, sir."
"Fire!"
The roar of the cannon was deafening. The resultant cloud of smoke obscured his vision. He also heard coughing coming from the rest of the crew.
"Are you alright?"
He heard Barrel cough. "It'll pass in a few seconds, sir. Nothing to be overly worried about. Gunners have to deal with this all the time."
"Red Cross, if the smoke is harmful, I want you to call a time-out."
"I... think we can keep going. Just be careful, it's coming up to you, now." A rancid over of sulfur and powder reached James' nostrils.
"Thanks for the warning." James pulled his coat over his face and waited until he thought the smoke had passed. "Well?"
"The referee took two of the gun crews out of the action. We still have two more firing at us."
"Get them. And Red, use your magic to try to shield us from the smoke this time."
"Already taking care of it, sir."
The crew fired twice more. The remaining old cannons were put out of commission.
"Good job, but it's not over yet. Head for the town."
They received no further incoming fire until they actually reached the little clot of dummy buildings. As they approached, the soldiers inside started firing.
"Shield is barely registering any energy loss," came the report from Red Cross. "Unless there was an entire company shooting at us, I wouldn't be all that worried."
Several stones struck the shield and were deflected away. "I guess the test is over," James said as they cleared the last building. "I think this is a pass."
"I still get my turn, general."
"Colonel, I'm not going back on my word. And we should probably do this again anyway, just to make sure this whole thing isn't a fluke." James lowered himself down. Barrel was almost smiling as he climbed up.
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James pointed at a section of red line with a stick. "Second and Third Corps will form up in the center. First Corps will be on our left, applying pressure to that section of the enemy army, as the Fourth will do on our right. Our artillery will concentrate on the center of their line, with a three-hour long bombardment. We will spare no shell or shot in this barrage; I want their center absolutely leveled, with their artillery being the first targets, after which we'll focus on their front lines." He used the stick to move a couple of blue blocks into position. "After the three hours are up, our army will move forward, with the First and Fourth to fulfill their attack plans. Second and Third will break the center, and drive straight for Trottingham. I intend for us to capture the westernmost forts of the city before the enemy can fall back that far. If we're quick, this could be the breakthrough we've wanted since the war began."
"Sir," an officer said, raising a hoof, "scouts report they're strongest on their flanks. What exactly are the First and Fourth supposed to accomplish?"
"Their job is to keep those enemy units from falling back and hitting the sides of our advancing units in the center. If possible, I'd like as many soldiers as possible in those outfits to take up skirmish formations, regardless of weaponry."
"Sir, what if they fail in that task?"
"If that happens, then we'll fall back if it's necessary. I'm praying it won't, and I think that if we succeed in cutting their army in two, as I expect, they won't be able to communicate effectively." He laid down the stick. "We discuss this over a map, gentlemen, but I assure you, this is no game. Real soldiers will be going into battle on both sides, and real soldiers will be dying. Many of you are worried about the inexperience of the soldiers you will be leading; I've worried about it myself. Many of the enemy are experienced veterans of previous battles, even if some of them are of uncertain quality."
"You might be wondering why I'm telling you all this. Well, the answer is simple; you need to know. You need to know the effective limits of the army we are in charge of, as well as a the capabilities of the enemy. Less than a third of our army are veteran soldiers, with the rest recent recruits. The enemy have fewer soldiers, but those who are left have all seen battle, including the mercenaries they hired. If we can make use of our superior numbers to pull off a coordinated effort, though, we might be able to end the war quickly. That is the goal of this campaign; to end the war in victory on the Eastern Front. I expect the best from each of you."
He paused. "I hope and pray for your safe return, and that of those whose lives you've been entrusted with."
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Bright Star sat in the trench with the rest of his buddies, who were currently engaged in - and losing - a game of cards.
"Damn!" A pale-gray unicorn, Gray Sky by name, threw down his deck, glaring at White Knight. "Your mother should have put the word 'bandit' in your name somewhere. You're robbing us blind!"
"Ya want me ta rob ya blind, try your luck playin' me at chess," the other unicorn retorted. "Keep your fur on; I could take every last bit of your carcass and you'd still be hitting it rich back in Manehattan."
"Just because I'm the son of an aristocrat and my family is rolling money doesn't mean I like being beaten every time I play you," Gray Sky muttered. Even so, he paid up. "If I find you you've been cheating..." he added in a threatening voice.
"Really?" the final pony in the game, an earth pony named Firebolt, said in a tone of disbelief. "Come on, this is White Knight we're talking about. We've been with him in like, what? Three big battles, and few bite-sized ones to boot? We've saved each others' lives I-don't-even-know how many times, and you accuse him of cheating?"
"Yeah, well, how many games have you won against him?"
"More than you did," Knight said with cheek.
Gray Sky turned his head, aimed his horn at a branch on a nearby tree, and fired a burst of energy, incinerating it.
"Alright, alright, I get it; you're mad."
"Damn straight. Don't tick me off any more than you already have tonight."
"Don't blame me; blame the cards."
"Calm down, both of you," Firebolt insisted. "I think that's enough for one night."
"Fine; neither o' ya get to see if ya could turn dis bad luck around."
"You're just saying that so you can steal even more of my pay. No thanks!"
"Well, okay, but we'll never know who won now..." White Knight stacked the cards, as well as the chips they'd been playing with, and put them away.
"Not falling for it."
"Aw, you're no fun."
"We're in a war. Ponies are dying. How is that supposed to be fun?"
"Whoa whoa whoa..."
"I think we should all be getting some sleep," Bright interrupted, putting away the rag he'd been using to clean his gun. "Got a really big day tomorrow, if the brass are telling the truth." As though on cue, he yawned.
"Yeah, I guess so," Gray Sky said, though he was still taking every opportunity to glare daggers at White Knight.
"Bright's right," Silver Lining said as he set himself down gently. "Little birdy told me. Make it a big birdy."
"You weren't spying on our officers, were you?" Firebolt asked him. "They won't like it when they find out, and if I know anything about higher-ups, it's that they always find out about things like that."
"Nah. Got it from no less than the general commandin'. He didn' tell me much, just to get meself an' any boys I could talk to. That's all o' ya."
"Oh, well that's different, I guess." Firebolt stood on two legs and leaned lightly against the wall of the trench. "Can't say I'm stoked to get myself killed, but this war's gotta end sometime."
"Who say's it's ever going to end?"
"Oh boy," Bright mumbled.
"Aye, who ever said the war will end?" Jack Tar said, striding into the middle of the group.
"Simple; if the war doesn't end, we'll all be dead, and everypony else will be too," Gray Sky answered.
"Hmph. You want to be hopelessly optimistic, go ahead. I've got a battle to prepare for."
Bright stared after the orange sailor. Why did every word he said have to be such a downer? It sure didn't help anyone. And this wasn't even his conversation in the first place.
"What's his problem?" Firebolt said, tipping his hat.
"He's a sailor," Bright explained. "I don't think he likes being on dry land."
"A lot of pegasi don't," Silver said, laying down with his head resting on a rock. "Sailors even more so. I know I've been one o' 'em. Part o' the reason so many pegasi like sailin' is that they can fly almost to their hearts content when duty isn't callin'."
"Still no excuse for getting everypony down."
"I know. But ya canna change everyone."
"I think we do need to get our stuff in order, if you're right." Firebolt got back down to all fours and began rummaging through his bag. "Hopefully I don't lose my head over what happens tomorrow."
"Don't say stuff like that," Bright said admonishingly. "For all you know, that could happen."
"Aaaaaaah."
Bright lay down on his back and looked up into the sky as the stars began to reveal themselves. Counting them was a lot more fun than thinking of the dangers ahead.
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James, Crystal Clear, and Nightshade (now a colonel) stood on a rise above the camp. James was watching the Griffon line, trying to discern movement in the pre-dawn light.
"Hope this works out," Nightshade said. "It would be a shame if it doesn't."
"Plenty of ammo for the papers," James answered. "Couple of press hounds somehow managed to weasel themselves in somewhere. If this fails, for whatever reason, they'll be coming after me. Yippie."
He heard Nightshade attempt - and fail - to suppress a snicker. However, when he started speaking, he was dead serious. "The media is always after a story, true or not. They just love ruining lives just for the sake of attention and money. If you want, I'll go and arrest them."
"Can't really do that either, not unless we want ponies screaming 'free press!' as they kick the hell out of us."
"Ha! Well, this is a country with absolute monarchy. If both the Princesses wanted it so, the press would only report what they wanted it to report. Besides, censorship is in effect."
"They always find a loophole to run through. Trust me on this one." James lowered the binoculars. "Unless our pegasi scouts were wrong, we know exactly where their artillery batteries are located, and we'll neutralize them in the opening volleys."
""I hope they didn't get shot down," Crystal said. "It's an awful long way to fall from a mile or so up. Believe me, I know; my right wing got a cramp during training, and if it wasn't for my comrades, I wouldn't be here."
"Eee. I believe you. I may be pre-disposed to believe you, considering I fear heights, but..."
"I can certainly understand why some don't like flying, after going through that. In any case, our scouts were flying from quite a height, though they had binoculars to make up for the distance. I think their reports are accurate."
"We'll see. We'll definitely see in a little while."
"Why isn't Shining Armor with us, sir? If you'll pardon my asking."
"Celestia wasn't clear on that," he said, and he heard the Guard draw breath before realizing his mistake. "Princess Celestia. She just said she had a job for him and Princess Cadence to do. 'Up north' was the only indicator."
"Brrr," Crystal said, shivering. "Sounds cold."
"And yet here we are, facing the hottest fires this side of... well..."
"I get it, sir."
"I don't know why you didn't just send in the Lunar Guard to spike their guns in the night," Nightshade said, sounding a little upset. "You know we could have pulled it off."
"You seem to regard me as a prophet, or a fortuneteller, perhaps." James turned to regard him. "Was the job in your capacity? Yes. But you have to remember that a plan rarely survives contact with the enemy. And the Griffons, having come from predatory ancestors, have a better ability to see in the dark than you'd think. All sorts of things could go wrong with a plan like that, and if you got caught in the middle of the enemy camp..."
"Alright, I understand. It just rankles, that's all."
"Your time will come, Colonel. Trust me."
Nightshade sniffed, but said nothing. The sun slowly rose over the horizon.
That was the signal the gunners were waiting for. With a thunderous roar, bright flashes burst briefly into existence as over a hundred guns of all sizes began to fire on their targets.
The first battle of the campaign had begun.
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