//------------------------------// // From the sea (edited by Cakebomb) // Story: Rise of an Empire, Fall of Another // by Kyuubi325 //------------------------------// Zebrica Mountans Minyororo Kuvunjwa Headquarters 10:00am Main Cavern The leader of the Minyororo Kuvunjwa, known as Shujaa Wa Pundamila, walked passed countless injured zebras. The last weapons raid had greatly depleted their numbers. The moans of a foal garnered his attention. He looked to see a blinded foal on a sleeping mat made of furs and dried grass. “Shujaa?” he turned to see a mare shaman. “Yes, Shaman Nyasi?” “We have lost five more warriors; four stallions from the Swift Winds Clan and one mare potion maker from the Screaming Falls Tribe” the shaman stated in a tired tone “Poesis!!! You mean to tell me we have lost another potion master?! They are our only advantage over Balsam. If we continue to lose them we will be unable to plant explosive traps on the trading routes and weapons caches!” the stallion stamped on the ground in irritation. “Shujaa, they were ambushed and came back heavily wounded. By the time they had arrived they had lost too much blood in order to survive.” the mare answered in similar irritation. “Do we have the potion master's records? If nothing else we can replicate her work. The seven other potion makers are three weeks away from our location, and we must replant the potion bombs on Balsams ore trails in one week. If Balsam continues to trade with Equestria for enchanted gems and grain, his forces will only continue to grow in size” the stallion almost shouted. “We have thought of that, but like all potion makers she uses her own code to hide the knowledge. We are trying to solve her seemingly nonsensical notes, but we have had no luck.” The mare motioned to a group of elders centered around a carved table, studying the potion master's scrolls with looks of exasperation and irked expressions. “May the ancestors have mercy on us. Without a potion master we will be forced to attack the trading caravan directly. We don’t have the time to contact our allies in the north or the west or the stallion-power here for a direct attack. I must go to my chambers.” He left to his living quarters Eastern Zebrican Sea; 10 Miles from Zebrica HRM Dancers Maul (Armed Merchant Class) 5:00pm Starboard Mounted RSRC (Rapid Stealth Reconnaissance Craft) A group of diamond dogs were loading crates onto the RSRC. The crates contained food, medical supplies, and a sample of their old surplus Lee Enfield MK 1 Rifles. They also loaded files containing photographs of their loaded military equipment on board the ships. Captain Morgan Singer watched quietly before he spoke. “Your orders are to reach the secluded beach on the charts given to you. You are then ordered to use the craft's remote submerge feature to hide any signs of your arrival and make contact with the rebels. We have marked areas on your map where they were commonly seen during both our early and recent high altitude reconnaissance missions. Note that the rebels often wear tattoos depicting broken chains and are often armed with crude or damaged weapons. We also have information hinting at the use of crude herbal based explosives. Avoid fighting with the Balsams or any other warlord's forces. It is important that they do not know we are here. From the intelligence we have gathered they have trade routes with Equestria. In all likelihood, if the Equestrians find their trading partners in distress, they would come to their aid. We cannot allow the Equestrians to interfere with our objective. Ambassador Ivo Andric, when you have made contact with the rebels you are ordered to open discussion of cooperation and trade. Remember these zebras may or may not have ever seen diamond dogs. They will no doubt be suspicious of us either way, but do what you can to gain their trust. We will remain 10 miles off shore until you radio us otherwise.” The Captain left no room for question. The crew, consisting of the ambassador and three Naval Dragoon frontline troops lead by Lieutenant T. E. Lawrence a, were loaded onto the RSRC and then lowered in to the water. “Starting Engine sir” the Briard diamond dog dragoon identified as Bard said as he worked the controls on the helm. The petrol V12 Dalmaneer engine snarled to life, and the sudden movement of the high-speed craft forced them into their seats as it began to achieve cruising speed. The ambassador already looked sea sick as the boat crashed through the waves. “We have reached the cruising speed of 40 knots. We will arrive in 30 minutes, sir” Bard stated to colonel Lawrence. “Taylor, give the ambassador a seltzer tablet. I will not have him getting sick on board.” The colonel ordered to the short foxhound diamond dog. “Gurk….”the ambassador was barely able to swallow the tablet, still disoriented by his seasickness.