The six had to be at the old town barracks at eight in the morning, so a six-thirty wake-up seemed prudent. They arrived in good time, though the effort was nearly compromised by Rarity’s stubborn insistence that she had to look presentable for the occasion.
“C’mon, c’mon!” Rainbow urged her. “We can’t be late!”
The paladin had been growing increasingly enamoured with the idea of going north by the very hour. Her rationalisation had developed to the point where she saw it as much the same as the Wonderbolts – and was now feeling a similar kind of excitement to what she had felt about flight training back home.
A soldier was waiting for them in the shade of the trees at the entrance. He took them inside, confirmed that they were who they said they were, and then asked them to follow him into the stores.
They were given their kit by a surly middle-aged man who looked like he’d been woken up especially for the occasion. He duly doled out all their items once they had signed for them and then sent them back down the hall to meet up with the same soldier from before. He took them down a few corridors, a left turn here and a right turn there until they reached a room with a sign that read, in big, bold letters: STRICTLY FEMALES ONLY.
“All right, ladies, now that you have your kit I need you to change in here. You’ve got twenty minutes.” He turned to address Twilight specifically, adopting a slightly more obedient tone. “Apologies, ma’am. The officer’s mess is currently undergoing repair work. I’m afraid you’ll have to change in here as well.”
“That’s, uh, quite all right. Thank you.” she replied.
The soldier nodded, saluted and left so that they could get ready.
She knew that military officers could expect a different, maybe even preferential sort of treatment compared to a lower-ranking soldier – and, to an extent, the lowers ranks would expect an officer to expect it. Not receiving it wouldn’t bother her, but she had to be aware of the general assumption made by the enlisted ranks.
It was a little like being made a princess all over again. She had been given a lot less responsibility by comparison in the grand scheme of the things, but it felt like she was just as far out of her comfort zone as before.
She was also aware that she would have to struggle to earn the respect of her soldiers, especially because she had no formal battlefield experience and she hadn’t been trained at Stormwind’s academy. It was one of the things the duty sergeant had warned her to expect during their chat the day before. It would likely look to the common soldier like she had been parachuted in because of her connections, not her skills. She had wondered if they would be aware of what had happened in the Deadmines, and had quickly resolved not to tell them herself – not to make a big deal out of it.
Of course, what might work in her favour was the fact that only one third of the troops newly under her command were trained soldiers. The rest would probably be like her and the other girls – recruits drafted in for their specialist skills. Hopefully she would have an easier time with them.
They all turned their attention to their new equipment. A big rucksack to carry everything in. Two sets of casual workwear. Various other small items. But the biggest one – a set of armour for each that varied depending on the role they were expected to fulfil, which had been specified in their contracts. For Applejack and Rainbow, matching platemail that was far heavier and offered far more protection than what they had worn before. For Fluttershy and Rarity, lighter wear that offered more freedom of movement at the cost of less defence. For Pinkie, a set of embroidered robes in blue and silver.
Twilight had also been given robes, but hers were somewhat more opulent. Gold replaced much of the silver in the detailing, and went much further around her garments compared to the priest’s, whose lines only extended once around her body. The mage had also been given a hooded cloak made of the same materials, an extra that swept all the way down her back.
Slipping the robe on over her undershirt to test the fit, she suddenly felt a little different. Like her magical power was greater, and she was more… fortified? It was a strange sensation, one that dissipated the moment she stripped it off again. She suspected that all the specialised gear was enchanted in some way or another.
“So what does this stripe mean? Seems like it’s all over my gear.” Applejack indicated the single chevron that adorned each of her shoulder guards and on the chest of her clothes.
“Hey, mine too!” Pinkie realised.
“I don’t have it.” said Rainbow. Neither did Fluttershy or Rarity. “What about you, Twi?”
She checked her robes. “I’ve got a bar. My contract said I would hold the rank of Second Lieutenant, so I’m guessing that’s what the symbol is for.”
“So what does that mean?”
“It’s an officer rank.” she explained. “It means I’m responsible for a platoon of around thirty soldiers.”
“What about the rest of us, though?”
“Well, let’s see. I have our first set of orders here, confirming what we’re supposed to do this morning. Maybe they’ll shed some light on the situation.”
She unfurled the parchment and they gathered around to read it.
FOR THE ATTENTION OF THE FOLLOWING:
(KNIGHT) SECOND LIEUTENANT TWILIGHT SPARKLE
LANCE-CORPORAL APPLEJACK
SISTER PINKAMENA DIANE PIE
SPECIALIST FLUTTERSHY
PRIVATE RARITY
PRIVATE RAINBOW DASH
It went on from there to detail what they were to do after receiving their equipment. They had several presentations to listen to, after which they were scheduled to board a ship and set sail that very afternoon.
“Ooh! How did they know that I have sisters? That’s a lucky guess!”
“…I think that’s your rank, Pinkie. It’s on the same level as a Lance-Corporal, like Applejack, but you’re a “Sister” because you can heal.” The contracts had said quite a few things, but they hadn’t explained a great deal. Twilight was suddenly glad for having binged on almost everything she could get her hands on the night after finding out they were getting conscripted, but there were still obvious gaps in her knowledge.
“A better question would be how exactly they know your full name…”
“Never mind that now, dears.” Rarity cut in hurriedly. “It appears that we haven’t much time before we are required again.”
They finished up changing, stowed everything else neatly into their new bags and began to file out into the corridor.
“Waiiiiit.” Rainbow said as they made their way out of the door. “If we’re different ranks, does that mean our pay is different too? How much is everyone else getting paid? Guys? Guys…?”
They ended up in the Junior’s Mess, the only place available that was fit for the delivery of such a briefing. A soldier hobbled in soon after they had taken their seats, introducing himself as Master Sergeant Darnal and confirming that he would be the one giving them their information that morning. No doubt his injury had prevented him from accompanying his regiment to the north, though despite probably being a little bitter he was also clearly trying his best to be welcoming to a group of new recruits like them.
He started off with a salute to Twilight before beginning his speech in earnest, sticking closely to the script. “Welcome ma’am, and welcome all to your initial orientation brief into the Darkshire Regiment of the Stormwind Army, prior to your deployment into the conflict in Northrend, as per the terms of your conscription agreements.
“You have all been assigned to the newly-raised Eight Platoon of the First Company, the Darkshire Regiment. Lieutenant Sparkle, ma’am, you have been assigned to command the platoon. The rest of you will serve as her command squad, and the specifics of your individual assignments will be detailed to you later on in this briefing.”
He handed Twilight a piece of paper – a list of names divided into three parts.
“The platoon is divided into a squad of eight, a squad of seven and a squad of six, plus the command squad, for a total strength of twenty-seven. The first squad is made up of regular infantry transferred from elsewhere in the regiment, led by Corporal Bandor, serving in a dedicated close protection role to the rest of the platoon.
“The second squad is comprised of seven offensive spellcasters, a mixture of mages and others recommended by their superiors across the Alliance. The third squad is comprised of defensive spellcasters, with three priests from Stormwind cathedral joined by a shaman, a paladin and a druid, again all recommended by our allies. These two squads will be detailed at the company level or above in support of operations which require them.
“The role of the platoon officer outside of such circumstances is the management of these forces and their safe delivery to the relevant and appropriate objectives. The intent behind the integration of allied forces into the Stormwind Army is to promote closer links with said allies and exploit potential advantageous tactical opportunities. A platoon sergeant has not been attached to the sub-unit owing both to the current shortage in Senior NCOs available in the Regiment as well as the unique and varied composition of the command squad in the platoon in question.”
Most of what he was saying went straight over the heads of everyone except the group’s resident mage – it was difficult to avoid fidgeting, yawning or falling asleep - but then they didn’t really need to know. Twilight, however, was taking copious amounts of notes, and hanging on to every word the Master Sergeant said.
The lack of a platoon sergeant worried her a little – they were invariably survivors with a good few years of experience in and out of combat under their belts, and she had been hoping to rely on their experience – but she would have to make do.
“Are there any questions?”
Pinkie went to raise her hand.
Rainbow poked her in the side and held up a card that read, in Twilight’s handwriting: “Pinkie, if you have a question about parties, or anything relating to parties, DO NOT ASK THAT QUESTION NOW.”
Pinkie chose not to raise her hand.
He continued on with the second part of the briefing, a history of the town of Darkshire in Duskwood, east of Westfall, and of the Darkshire Regiment – its victories, its losses, and everything in between since its founding several decades ago. The script seemed to skip a significant portion of the last five years, a gap he explained when he deviated from the text. As with all the local regions, as Stormwind forces were scaled back, sent off to fight in wars on foreign or alien shores or held stagnating in their garrisons, Duskwood had been isolated. Much like Sentinel Hill, Darkshire had been left to see to its own defences during this time, and had formed a quasi-militia, the Night Watch, to root out evil from its borders. Darkshirians had long been known as stalwart, if somewhat reclusive folk, and had survived better through the separation than the region of Westfall had.
Now that the king had returned, the borders had been better, albeit not perfectly, secured and the threats had been beaten back, the Night Watch had been brought back into the fold. Buoyed with an influx of new recruits and conscripts, a third battalion had been formed for the first time in the Regiment’s history, and now the regiment was part of the tip of the spear against the Lich King. The First Company had made it all the way into the Dragonblight in the centre of the conflict, fighting alongside the famed First Legion to secure a stronghold in the region, and Twilight’s platoon would be joining them at the first opportunity.
The last stage of the briefing concerned the immediate future – where they would be going, what they would be doing on the way. He paused to stress that this method of briefing was quite unusual, and that in the future it would be a senior officer giving Twilight alone such information – it would be up to her how much information she would then give out to her subordinates and how much to keep to herself.
What made this situation different was the lack of time they had to work with.
Upon the completion of the briefing they would be getting changed into their combat gear and heading down to the docks to meet the rest of their platoon and board the Kraken, the ship that would take them to Northrend. The journey would be two weeks at sea, during which time they would embark upon as much training as possible – conducted by the First Squad - before docking at Valiance Keep, the Alliance basecamp in Borean Tundra. There they would receive more specific orders aiming to support the campaign, which would most likely take them towards the Dragonblight to meet up with the rest of the company.
If the war hadn’t been won by then. Or lost.
One hour before the Kraken was to leave.
The weather would be remarkably pleasant for their departure. It had been raining the last few weeks on and off, but seemed to have temporarily exhausted itself the day before, just in time to give them a sunny day to enjoy. Once they were underway it would be their last for a while.
Another support platoon from a different regiment was already settled below deck, but aside from the sailors who were preparing the ship for launch Eight Platoon had the whole deck of the Kraken to themselves.
“Can you see them yet?” The men and women of First squad had maintained their discipline well for the first half an hour, but now chatter was beginning to break out. Given a degree of anonymity by their full helmets, only their fellow squad members knew who was talking at each time, and only from close range.
“No.”
“A mage, though? Just our luck we’d get stuck with a boomboy as our boss.”
“She’s not a gnome.”
“Quiet, you idiots!”
…
“Still, a mage?”
“You’d think they’d put an infanteer in charge. Whip that lot over there into shape. Just look at their drill. Disgracing the regiment…”
“I heard she went in and beat the Defias though. She can’t be all bark and no bite.”
There were murmurs of assent. Almost much every member of Stormwind’s home forces had been relieved to hear of Edwin VanCleef’s fall, not that any of them would ever admit to having been afraid of him.
“Meh. Defias ain’t got nothing on the worgen. Donovan, remember that pack leader we killed?”
“Yeah. Good times.”
“Listen to Kellas, lads. Keep it down. Remember, we want to make a good impression.”
“Sorry, skip.”
“Sorry, corporal.”
…
“Besides, if she did happen to be a gnome the correct phrase would be boomgirl.”
…
...snicker…
The second and third squads were doing their best to keep still, ordered and presentable, but they couldn’t compare with the drilled precision of the infantry veterans.
“I can’t see.” hissed a mage at the rear of the formation. On her tiptoes she barely came up to the thighs of the priest across to the right. Being a gnome didn’t help with that. “Whose clever idea was it to put me in the second rank, anyway?”
“Patience, my friend.” The draenei mage next to her whispered, his heavily accented common perfectly pitched just in the right place so that only the gnome could hear. “They will be arriving soon.”
“They’d better. I’m getting bored of standing here doing nothing.”
“Ye were standing? I could nae tell…” A dwarf priest snarked from further over to the right.
“Buzz off. You’re not that much taller than I am!”
…
“You know, I haven’t set anything on fire for a whole week.”
“Just what I wanted to hear before getting on a boat made half out of wood on a two week journey out into the vast ocean.” The priest on her immediate right muttered grimly.
“It fills you with confidence, does it not?” His night elf colleague beside him chimed in with some amusement.
“Just as much as the boat itself does.” Her twin sister added, staring dubiously at the clouds of steam the back end was emitting as the sailors prepared the engine.
…
A little more time passed. More idle chatter was quashed. Until eventually…
“They’re coming up onto the ship now, corporal.” One of the sailors who had been keeping an eye out over the starboard side informed Bandor. He nodded in thanks, and cleared his throat.
Without a platoon sergeant, the duty of bringing to platoon to the ready to greet their new commander fell to him.
“Eight platoon! Eight Platoon, ah-tehhhhhhhhnnn-shun!” To the left, eight sets of boots crashed across the deck in perfect synchronicity. A mismatch of thirteen pairs of feet across to the right eventually found themselves at attention too.
The corporal took two measured steps out to the front of the formation. He turned to the right so that he was able to look down the gantry and see the command squad as they approached.
His eyes widened as they came into view, the officer at the front in her new blue and gold robes, carrying a green tipped staff. Her deep violet hair, the pink hair of the robed priest behind her, and the rest…
His training overcame his surprise at the last moment and he snapped into a salute.
The six women – the officer and her command squad – filed onto the deck of the ship and came to a halt in front of the assembled platoon.
“Ma’am.” he barked. “It is my pleasure to welcome you and your command squad to the ranks of Eight Platoon, First Company First Battalion the Darkshire Regiment. Glory to the Alliance!”
She lowered her hand slowly, and he snapped his down fluidly in response. “Thank you, corporal.” And then, perhaps noticing the way that the first squad were straining at attention, “Uh, please, stand at ease, everyone?” They all did so; the first squad fluidly, the others much less so.
Satisfied that she’d gotten the command right, Twilight went on. “Thank you all for coming out to meet us today. My name is Second Lieutenant Twilight Sparkle and I will be your new platoon commander for the Northrend campaign.
She hesitated, taking in their faces. Trying to lock eyes with every single one of them. There was a good variety of races amongst them – mostly humans, a few night elves, a dwarf, two gnomes and two draenei too. She’d encountered members of each of them before, but it would be a good opportunity to get to know them for real. She had a stack of papers with a file for each person in her hand, and she intended on going through them as soon as she had the chance, but there was no substitute for personal experience.
They stared back, taking in her youthful look, her incredibly vibrant hair, and her jewelled battle staff. They swept over her friends, their mismatching gear and their odd appearances in general. Pinkie Pie’s off-putting upbeat smile probably drew the most stares.
Twenty-four pairs of eyes, watching, scrutinising, and judging.
There was the slightest snicker before she continued, though it was impossible to tell from where amongst the parade it had come. “I look forward to working together with you all in the months to come. We have a long journey ahead of us, but as I’m sure you know we will be quite busy during our time at sea. I’m sure you know what is at stake in the conflict we’re heading into, and I’m sure that you’ll make me, and everyone you are fighting for, proud. For my part, I hope that I can live up to the high standards you expect of an officer of the Darkshire Regiment.
“Thank you, all. Glory to the Alliance!” she finished again, affecting a more solemn repeat of the battlecry, and looked over to Corporal Bandor, which he took as a rather obvious cue.
“Platoon, ah-ten-shun!”
CLANK CRASH CLANK
“Platoon, fall, out!”
Corporal Bandor broke away from the rest of the first squad after a quick word with his second, heading straight to Twilight. He waited for her to finish as she sent off the rest of her command squad to claim their billet. One of the armoured ones – the one carrying a massive warhammer – took off her helmet as they passed, and he blanched inwardly at the shock of rainbow-coloured hair that fell free.
He waited until she acknowledged him and then hurried closer.
“Ma’am, if you’ll permit me I’ll see you to the officer’s quarters straight away."
She shifted the weight of her pack a little. It wasn’t very heavy, but it was uncomfortable.
“Yes please, corporal. That would be excellent.”
He suspected he knew the answer already, had done since she had first come up onto the ship, but it was worth asking the question anyway.
“Have you had any military training before? At all?”
She looked him straight in the eyes and answered honestly, “No.” What would have been the point of lying?
Oh, light, was what he thought at first.
Sure, if the rumours were true then she and her retinue had conquered the Deadmines. It was an impressive, laudable achievement. But looking at them here he could quite clearly see from the way they carried themselves alone that they were not well-disciplined, probably not well trained, with at least one, maybe two exceptions at the most.
“Very well, ma’am, that’s not a problem.” was what he actually said. “We have two weeks. We’ll get everybody up to scratch in time. Besides, if you were too military you might not have those specialist skills that the top brass wanted you for.”
He hadn’t survived six years in the Army by disobeying his superiors. Stormwind officers had a reputation, on the whole, for competence, bravery and heroism all the way to the top – and now the King had returned, too, and had personally backed the policy of integrating those with specialist skills. It seemed like a sound policy even to someone at the bottom of the totem pole like Bandor.
It was just the timing he was concerned about. Using conscripts was always a risk compared to trained soldiers, but a conscripted officer?
And really just two weeks to get them ready, on board a ship, before throwing them all, the men and women of his first squad included into what was possibly the biggest war in Stormwind’s - and perhaps even the Alliance’s - history?
As he led his new commander below deck he found himself desperately praying to the light that her skills, and those of all the untested, unbloodied conscripts travelling on the Kraken, would not fail them.
Four days in.
Twilight had been granted an office to use as well as her own personal cabin. It was small and cramped, but it got the job done, and at least it had a desk for her to use – there was an incredible amount of paperwork to complete. Retroactive file request forms, accommodation pro-formas to be handed over when they arrived at Valiance Keep… and everything else in between.
She’d been conducting short interviews in an attempt to get to know the members of her platoon, using their files to build a picture of their histories and then asking them questions about themselves over the course of an interview up to half an hour long. Some opened up the moment they walked through the door. In particular she’d had a very interesting conversation with a young red-haired gnome mage named Kimmy Gearfuse, which had left Twilight both impressed by her intelligence and creativity from how she had described her work in Gnomeregan…
…and aware of the need to keep a very close eye on her, given her use of the word ‘fire’ or variations thereof forty-seven times throughout their twenty minute conversation. It seemed to Twilight that she had a wannabe pyromaniac on her hands, which actually wasn’t such a bad thing. It would give her a excuse to avoid that particular school of magic herself and concentrate on her arcane prowess.
…she still couldn’t cast a fire spell without thinking about VanCleef’s charred corpse…
On the other hand, those who had been soldiers for some time were less receptive. Most were politely non-committal, like Corporal Bandor. Some, Lance-Corporal Kellas especially, bordered on the outright hostile in their responses to her questions. Hopefully it was just cabin fever, and once they were docked and on their way the air would clear.
The other army officer on board had been welcoming and generally supportive, but she, a night elf sentinel from a support platoon attached to the Lakeshire Regiment, had been fighting for the Alliance for years. There was quite the difference in their circumstances, and she of course had her own platoon to worry about – she couldn’t be expected to babysit Twilight too.
That job mostly fell to Corporal Bandor, who proved tireless in his efforts to acclimatise her to military life.
She had made quite a few mistakes, most of them small but ones that she was determined not to repeat. She’d turned up very late to their first physical training session in the ships’ hold after first getting the times wrong and then getting lost in the ship for a further. Bandor had taken her to one side after the hour had ended and made it very clear that she couldn’t afford to make such an error again. Her first drill session had been a disaster as she’d tripped over her own feet more times than she cared to remember. She doubted that such incidences inspired much confidence.
Her girls still supported her, of course, and she hoped that she was gaining ground with the healers and the other mages. First squad would hopefully just take time, once she’d gotten more used to her role and they had become more familiar with her.
Two knocks on the door. Of course – she’d been expecting one of the healers, a night elf druid named Erina Shadowshear. She glanced at the clock – one minute early. Perfect.
She straightened up in her chair and said, “Come in!”
The door swung open and revealed Erina. She was a good head taller than Twilight and had to stoop to enter the cabin.
“Ma’am.” she said as she came to attention. The specialist elements of the platoon had been getting steadily better at the military side of things, though just as Twilight had noticed about herself there was certainly still room for improvement.
“Erina, thank you for coming.” Twilight smiled. “Please, take a seat.”
“Thank you,” she said, but as she moved out of the way the door did not swing shut as it normally did. Instead, someone else joined them.
Erina’s sister, Tyrae. The spitting image of her sibling down to their bluish skin, the shape of her face and the white shine of her eyes, all save for her hair being a light lilac compared to her sisters’ teal.
“Tyrae? Do you need something” asked Twilight, confused. “Isn’t your slot later this afternoon?”
“Yes ma’am.” Tyrae hummed. “But we decided—”
“—that it would be better if we were to have our interviews in one slot.” Erina finished for her.
“I’m not sure that that’s appr—” Twilight started as the uninvited woman let the door slam.
“It is not a problem.” Erina said pleasantly.
“This way it will be easier for us all.” Tyrae agreed, sitting down on the spare chair, aligned perfectly with her sister.
“Ah – I – ” Twilight tried, fumbling for the right words to be assertive with. The twins stared at her, a look bordering on the edge of quizzical at what the problem might be.
At last, with a sigh, Twilight gave in. She reached over to the other side of the desk and slid Tyrae’s file away from the pile to rest next to Erina’s.
“All right… let’s get started.”
A week and two days in.
They had a problem. A rather severe problem that required that the ship stop dead in the middle of the ocean for about an hour while the damage was ascertained.
A problem that involved fire.
The blaze was now out, at last, but there was still a lot of smoke, and the deck was still smouldering in places. The Kraken‘s engineers were already examining the damage, while Twilight and a draenei mage were standing by ready to quench the fire again if it burst back into life. Rainbow waited behind them awkwardly in case they needed healing, being the closest one to the scene who had that kind of power.
Bandor and one of his men flanked the culprit on either side in case she did something stupid. The older corporal was resting his head on one of his hands.
“Okay, so the fire’s out.” Gearfuse spoke up nervously. “That’s good. Yay.”
“Just shut up.” hissed Kellas from the other side of the ship, positioned alongside Applejack in case the fire mage did something even more stupid. Like try to escape overboard.
“But-”
“Think ya might want to listen, hon.” Applejack warned her. “This ain’t good at all.”
Over by the stern, where the fire had started and flared up briefly before being extinguished, Twilight finished consulting with the lead engineer before leaving the draenei to watch for any further fires. She made her way quietly over to the gathering of her own soldiers, and looked at them all in turn, her eyes resting at last on the perpetrator.
“Right.” she said out loud to the assembly, to no-one in particular. “It seems the damage isn’t too severe. We should be underway again within the next two hours.”
“Well, that’s okay then, isn’t it?” Gearfuse started to say, then trailed off.
“No, it isn’t!” Twilight snapped, to the surprise of the nearby soldiers. It was the first time that they had seen her angry. “If the fire had spread we could have suffered more serious damage, causing us to be stuck out here or sunk! Why would you even start a fire here in the first place?”
“Fizzlezip bet me a day’s worth of rations that I could start a fire and put it out safely.”
“…”
“I guess I lost the bet.”
Twilight groaned. Fizzlezip, one of the platoon’s two resident warlocks, had proven to be quite the prankster over the week and a half since they had boarded the icebreaker. She would need to have a few words with him about what was harmless fun and what was going too far. It was tempting to throw the book at him too, but then he hadn’t actually made Gearfuse do it, had he?
“You could have damaged the deck, the rigging... You could have hit the engines…”
Gearfuse shifted uncomfortably.
“I knew about the engines!” she protested. “That’s why I made sure there were a bunch of barrels full of water in between the chosen fire location and the engine, and then a safe space all around all three so that—”
“…gunpowder.”
“—I could… what?”
“They were full of gunpowder. Not water.”
Gearfuse went pale. “Oh.”
Twilight sighed. “You’re to be confined to your quarters for the rest of the voyage. You’ll take your meals there and you’ll be required to have an escort if you need to leave for any time up to a maximum of ten minutes. You’re not to use any magic on this voyage again without my express permission. No fires. Is that clear?”
“Y-yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am.”
“Escort her there please, Applejack.”
The element of honesty nodded. “Boss. C’mon, let’s go.”
Kellas stared angrily after the gnome as she disappeared into the hold. “That’s it? She nearly kills us all and you give her time off? What kind of an—”
“Thank you, Lance-Corporal.” she cut him off sternly.
Kellas looked to Bandor for support but found only an unreadable, expressionless look. He managed to spit out a resentful “Ma’am” as he saluted and stalked away.
She shook her head and started to walk away, but the senior corporal stopped her. “That was a little lenient.”
“I know how dangerous that was, but she didn’t mean anything by it, and she’s got so much talent. I think we’ll need her in the days to come. She’s just a bit naïve, and we need to get her under control.”
He nodded. “Fair enough, ma’am. I’ll go talk to Kellas. He can be a bit aggressive, ma’am, but he’s an infantryman through and through, and you’ll be glad to have him on the battlefield when the shit starts to fly.”
“Thank you,” she said, then winced. “Now I need to go explain to the captain how one of my platoon nearly burned down the ship.”
Two days until they were due to arrive in the Borean Tundra.
Seven hours until Pinkie Pie’s ‘Icebreaker on the Icebreaker!’ party was scheduled to begin. She’d managed to pull in the night elf twins, one of the human priests in the third squad – she couldn’t pronounce his second name but his first was Vernor - and the draenei shaman, Yla to help her.
“I do not understand why we are doing this, Sister Pie.” The latter said as she fiddled with a pair of scissors. “It is most unusual.”
“You’ve never cut hanging decorations out of craft paper before?”
“No.”
Third squad had no specific leader, and with everyone inside it the same rank – Battle-Medic – Pinkie had fallen into something of a leadership role.
“Everyone’s been on such an edge lately… so we’re going to do something about it! What else would have the same effect?”
“If we weren’t fighting a war?” deadpanned Vernor.
“Well, yes. I suppose that would be good. But no.”
“If we all had an animal each to look after?”
“You should talk to Fluttershy! But no, Erina. The best answer to making any situation better is a party!”
The night elf twins shared a glance. “When we had parties in Darnassus we did not have anything like these streamers for decorations,” Erina said.
“The balloons are also quite interesting,” added Tyrae.
“And they can be made into such pleasing animal shapes!”
A completed balloon sausage dog flew two feet into the air, hit the ceiling and then fell back down.
“When I thought about what I’d be doing after being pulled into the army, I can honestly say that this never crossed my mind,” Vernor muttered incredulously.
“So what did you use back home for decorations?”
“…wisps, mostly. They made surprisingly good party lights.”
“Seriously, how did you get a hold of all this stuff in Stormwind?” Vernor asked.
“Trade secret.” Pinkie winked.
“And how did you fit it all in your pack?”
“Oh, I didn’t.”
“…what?”
“Trust me though, everyone, this’ll be the best party ever!”
The day of their arrival.
“Are we there yet?”
“Pinkie! That’s the thirteenth time you’ve asked that question in the last hour! CAN YOU SEE THE SHORE?!”
“Nope, but you might be able to! I have to ask, just in case!”
“Any luck, girls?” Twilight asked as she joined them at the bow. The temperature had dropped noticeably as they had one further north, and they all had their warm kit on under their battle gear.
“No luck yet, sorry, Twi.”
“Well, I’ve just spoken with the navigator again and he says we’re due to land within the next hour. Keep your eyes peeled please! I’d like to let the platoon know as soon as possible so that they can prepare to move off.”
“Aye aye, cap’n!” Pinkie struck a pose and then glued her eyes back to the horizon.
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “…lieutenant.” Twilight heard her say as she walked down towards the stern. The sailors of the Kraken had long since learned to tune out their eccentricities, so long as they didn’t get in the way of the running of the ship.
She walked slowly across the deck, looking out to starboard until she reached the railing. She drummed her fingers thoughtfully on the metal as she considered her platoon now compared to their departure two weeks before.
Their military training had come along in leaps and bounds. They could all march and carry out basic (and some advanced) drill movements without embarrassing themselves. They were getting better at the physical training side, and even the most unfit among them were beginning to see massive improvements. She felt like she was getting to know them better, too – their strengths, weaknesses, their hopes and dreams.
Morale, on the other hand… that was a mixed bag.
Pinkie’s party in the hold had received a lukewarm reception overall. She’d gone about it entirely the right way – got permission all the way up to the captain of the ship, only used asked for help from the squad she was responsible for, and only when they weren’t meant to be busy with other duties. The casters and healers had in fact taken to the idea quite well, and she thought it had been an excellent opportunity to unwind after the punishing schedule of training they had been going through, and a relief from the general monotony of time spent in transit at sea.
The problem was with First squad. They’d turned up – probably because they hadn’t known the real reason – but most of them were clearly unhappy with the festivities. She supposed that, to them, it looked like the newcomers weren’t taking the idea of war seriously.
She’d need to do some serious smoothing over once they landed. It wasn’t really possible to do it on the Kraken – everyone was too close, too confined. She hoped that if given some space, some time to cool if, the less agreeable voices in the platoon would mellow out and they would all get along.
And then there was Fluttershy. The woman had practically become invisible during their journey – she dutifully turned up to everything she was required to, but didn’t socialise, and indeed only ever spoke when spoken to, and only then in the most clipped of responses. It was a continuation, or perhaps a development, of her behaviour in Stormwind, and it continued to worry the mage.
“Hey, Twilight?” Rainbow called from above, and instantly made Twilight regret walking away from the look-out post. “You’ll want to see this.”
She climbed back up to find Rainbow pointing out a beam of light in the distance that was piercing through the fog.
“That’s the keep’s lighthouse, ma’am.” A nearby sailor informed her, then turned to one of his compatriots. “Let the captain know we’ve nearly arrived. He’ll want to oversee the final approach.”
“Pinkie, Rainbow, can you let everybody below know that we’re almost there? I’ll join you momentarily.” Twilight asked, not taking her eyes from the light.
“Oke-doke!”
“On it, boss.”
They wandered off down towards the belly of the ship, and the mage took over their vigil. Land suddenly emerged from the mist, off just far enough in the distance that there would be no need. Her first impression of the continent was one of… grey. A grey sandy shore, grey tides and grey rocky cliffs. All very dull. All very foreboding.
The ship came up parallel with the shore, skirting along a narrow but deep channel to edge closer to the landing site. They had to cut their speed on the approach – the various jagged underwater rock formations made it dangerous to go through even at a slow pace, let alone at full steam.
A few minutes passed, and Twilight was starting to wonder whether it would be worth simply waiting inside the ship, but then the coastline shifted and the keep came into view, framed by the sun as it hovered above the horizon.
It was a beautiful image, and what it represented was even better. Still under construction, the founding stone of the keep had been laid barely a month before and the work had been almost completed by labourers working around the clock since. It was an example of ingenuity and resolve in the face of a foreboding and hostile land.
For the first time after everything that had happened in the Deadmines, for the first time since they had arrived in Azeroth, in fact, Twilight found that she was proud to call herself part of the Alliance. She lingered on for a moment, taking a deep breath and filling her lungs with cold ocean air, then turned away and hurried below to re-join the platoon.
Their travels in Northrend were about to begin.