“So, the earliest we can make it is tomorrow morning?”
“Yes.” Decius frowned. “The men need a rest, Ricky. You had them frantically digging trenches all day. They’re worked to the bone right now.”
Ricky sighed, but nodded. “Yeah, I know. At least we’ll have a fallback line if everything goes to hell in a handbasket.”
MacArthur nodded. “I'll get the artillery crews to get the guns out.” He left, quietly closing the door.
“Come with me, guys.” Ricky gestured to the map. “Let's see what we can spot from our side.”
Decius, Karl, and Chrysalis all followed Ricky out the door, trailed by the ever-present Flaminitus and Aeneus.
The walk was uneventful, and they were quickly on the city outskirts. Ricky, clutching a pair of binoculars he had swiped, found a piece of high ground.
He didn't need the binoculars to see how big the Equestrian army was. Ricky let out a low whistle. “That's not good.”
As he continued to scout out the line, Karl stepped forward. “The changeling scouts’ve told us there's roughly fifteen thousand; ten thousand are boarding trains as we speak.”
‘If they link up, we’re goners,’ Ricky noted. Once he was satisfied he lowered the binoculars. “Alright. There’s- wait a minute.” Ricky looked through the binoculars again.
Between Applewood and Thicket Hill, a small valley, dominated by brush and trees, split the two. On both sides, trench sloped up the hills. But neither descended into the trees.
“There’s our spot,” Ricky pointed as he handed the binoculars to Decius. “That's the only way we’re getting in those trenches.”
“Recte dicis! That's the hinge of the whole attack!”
“Tomorrow, we’re getting that damn valley. Then, we’ll crush those reinforcements, and get the hell out of here-”
A messenger reached them, panting. “Ships sighted, sir!”
‘What?’ Ricky wondered for a moment. “Come again?”
“We’ve got four ships here, just outside the bay! General MacArthur is requesting permission to target them with his artillery.”
“Yes, tell him I approve.” The messenger turned around and ran back towards town center.
‘How the hell is there a navy here already? God damnit, another problem to contend with.’ Ricky rubbed his temple with a hand. “Come on, we're going to see what the hell this is about,” he ordered.
‘I'm really beginning to get tired of this walking back and forth,’ Ricky grumbled as he led the group back across town.
The white sails of the Equestrian navy were the first thing Ricky noticed as he rounded the corner that led to the docks. Four ships sat out at anchor only a few hundred yards from the slipway. They faced the dock with their broadsides.
Facing them was a motley assortment of artillery: two onagers, eight German anti-tank guns, and three American howitzers. MacArthur ran between the pieces, shouting quick orders.
“Douglas!”
MacArthur turned, worry etched on his creased face. He hurried over. “They haven't fired yet. In fact, one of them offered a parlay. He's waiting on the beach.”
“What? Why?”
“I don't know, kid. Just get down there. All those cannon barrels are making me uncomfortable.”
“Alright,” he turned to the others, “but you're all coming with me.”
Decius pulled his gladius out of the sheath just enough to clearly see the sunlight reflect off the sharp iron blade. “Don't worry.”
Ricky led the others down to the beach. Sure enough, a pony in an officer outfit and two guards were patiently sitting by a beached rowboat.
The roar of the ocean was the only noise as the group walked up to the three ponies. Both groups eyed each other silently for a moment.
Ricky took a step forward. “Ricky Welfork. You are?”
“Admiral Tailwind, commanding officer of this here flotilla.” The gruff voice matched his scarred wings and dull grey coat.
“Pleasure.”
“I'm sure.”
Ricky leaned forward, towering over the admiral. “What do you want?”
“Well, I'd love it if you all dropped dead where you stood, but wishes are for desperate stallions.”
“I'm sure you'd wish to have the ENS Swift back, wouldn't you? Fine ponies on board.” Ricky grinned wickedly. “Too bad they’re shark chum now.”
Tailwind suddenly lunged for the Scot. His guards held him back, inches before Darius’ gladius would've pierced his throat. “Damn you, filthy human!” Spittle flew from his mouth.
Suddenly, he realized his loss of calm. He quickly stopped struggling, straightening up. “Anyways, I've come to negotiate your surrender,” he smoothed his uniform with a sandy hoof as he spoke.
“You think your pitiful piles of wood out in the bay are enough to force a surrender?” Ricky laughed. “That sounds like a wish to me.”
“Those piles of wood have cannons trained on all that fancy artillery you brought up. In fact, there’s some aimed at this spot right now. If I had leaned forward and cut my neck, there would've been ten cannonballs up your ass before the first drop of blood hit the sand.”
‘The worst part is, he's right.’ Ricky didn't change his tone of superiority, however. “And your ships would be fireworks before the cannonballs made it halfway.”
“I'd bet on that.”
“A gambling pegasus, are we?”
“I only like to bet when I know I can win,” Tailwind shot back.
“We digress. The short and long of it is that you have no power here. Your pathetic flotilla,” Ricky began to pace back and forth, hands clasped behind his back, “would do minimal damage, if they could even get close enough before they were blown apart by my guns. Your ships are nothing more than an annoyance, a fly buzzing around my head that cannot hurt me in any way, and is easily swatted to death.”
He scooped up a handful of sand, watching it fall down between his fingers idly. “Now, please get the fuck off my beach.”
Tailwind grumbled darkly, but gave a stiff bow. “A pleasure, Mr. Welfork.” He quickly pushed the rowboat off into the water, propelling it through the water with his wings.
Ricky stared at the rowboat. “Fire the artillery at them once the admiral is on board.”
“Are you serious?! That's vile,” MacArthur protested.
Ricky nodded curtly. “Better to kill them now than have them kill us later.”
“The rules of warfare do not allow this etiquette!”
“I don't care, Karl. We're not operating as respectable opponents. We're operating to survive.”
Karl looked stunned. “Ricky, I cannot knowingly be associated with this lowdown attack!”
“Then you don't have to be! Just stand and watch!”
“I refuse as well.”
Ricky looked at MacArthur. ‘His howitzers are the only real weapon I have against them.’ The teen ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. You all can get us killed, for all I care.”
The two commanders visibly relaxed. Decius stood silently, no expression visible. MacArthur pulled his corncob pipe from his jacket pocket. He lit it, puffing smoke from the top like a miniature chimney.
The Equestrians began to sail off, the canvas sails shifting to follow the wind. Ricky watched them go, never taking his eyes off them.
“Ricky, we have to get orders drafted for the attack tomorrow,” Decius pointed out.
“Yeah. Alright.”
Ricky couldn't stop a groan from escaping as he looked over the latest logistics report. The army was extremely low on bullets and artillery shells. ‘And there's no way to make any more.’
The food situation was also growing dire. Las Pegasus’ emergency stores had been cleaned out, but they would last, according to estimates, four more days, and the supply of Changling supplies only nine days after.
Ricky tossed the folder on the table. He turned his attention to the map.
From observation, the siege line was anchored on the western side by Thicket Hill, which had a commanding position over Ricky's entire left flank. Reports placed four cannons on top of that hill. The middle seemed to anchor on Applewood Hill; a serious redoubt was already taking form, and even some tree-trunk bunkers were being thrown up along the trench.
The right side was intriguing. It wound down to the river from Applewood, at the base of the cliffs overlooking the ocean. It was a terrible position, but it was the only one. If it was any further back, there would be an elbow in the line that Ricky could easily exploit.
The problem lay in the cliffs themselves: they were thin, and the elevated position meant that the Equestrian cannon would have a field day if he sent men up to the crest. The Equestrian navy would likely come back and be more than thrilled to pound them from the ocean as well.
The window in the room looked over the ocean. Ricky could still see the white sails and black silhouettes of the four ships anchored from his headquarters.
“Wait… sails…” Ricky grabbed a pen and paper, furiously scribbling. “Flaminitus!”
The guard, who'd been standing outside the door, poked his head inside. “What?”
“Do you know anyone who wasn't digging trenches today?”
Flaminitus thought for a moment. “Part of the legion, and the reserve company of Germans. Why?”
Ricky quickly wrote an order. “I need you to take this to them,” he stood up and handed it to him, “with haste.”
“Yes, sir.” Flaminitus saluted before leaving.
Ricky shot another look at the ships, but this time his eyes were alight with determination. “I'm coming.”
“Good lord Ricky, how do you always come up with these insane plans?”
Ricky smirked. “Imaaagination.”
“I think you're in league with the Delphi Oracle, because some substance must be in play here.”
“Nope, just some quick thinking. Are we ready yet?”
MacArthur glanced at the men. “Seems like it,” he remarked.
“Alright,” Ricky stepped forward, immediately commanding his men’s attention, “men! Tonight, you have been picked for a critical mission!” Sporadic cheers greeted this. “We are going to crush the foolish Equestrian navy! If you follow me, we will undoubtedly save the lives of your brothers, who would do the same for you without hesitation! Do you undertake this task with me, for our comrades!” This time, the cheer was nearly universal.
Ricky flashed a confident smile. “Then to the boats, brave soldiers!”
A hearty cheer went up as the men began to drag the rowboats off the sand and into the waves.
Ricky hopped into the lead, with the other generals, Chrysalis, Jeremiah, and the legionnaire pair, who grabbed the oars. Ricky took hold of the tiller.
Quiet rowing and the lapping of the waves occupied the next minutes, as the fleet maneuvered out of the bay and into open water.
Just a couple of miles away, Ricky could see the masts of the enemy, towering like great obelisks over the flat ocean.
Thankfully, the wind was astern of them, which gave the rowers a break. Ricky managed the boat as everyone else checked their weapons.
MacArthur favored a burnished Colt revolver. ‘It looks like it belongs in a display case, not a combat situation,’ Ricky thought as he noticed the tarnish and worn features.
Karl, in the traditional German style, had his Luger strapped to his hip in a small leather holster. He also had two German stick grenades, on his belt.
Decius was rubbing his gladius free of small spots of tarnish. The giant of a man also wore a set of Roman plate armor; chainmail clinked underneath.
The two legionnaires were equipped in much the same way, but they also hefted massive rectangular shields and pilum for throwing.
Jeremiah also had a pistol, however, it was a standard issue M1911. “Pacemaker” was carved into the grip in flourishing cursive.
Chrysalis had her horn, point sharpened and ready to gore.
Ricky had his rifle. Checking the bolt, he realized he only had one bullet left. ‘Shit.’ His eyes strayed to the handle of his gladius, and he sighed. ‘Guess it's melee for me.’
The Equestria ships were drawing close. ‘There's no way they still haven't seen us,’ Ricky realized. ‘They're holding fire.’
He looked across the boats. To his relief, the legionnaires had already raised their shields over the boat to ward off crossbows.
The first ship was only a couple hundred meters now. Ricky watched the grey barrels of the cannons.
They stood silent.
“Alright boys, I want one third on each boat. Let's get it done!” A soft cry of acknowledgement echoed across the makeshift fleet.
Suddenly, a flicker of orange flashed from inside one of the gunports. “Raise shields! Now!”
The broadside of the first ship splashed all around them. The boat two across from Ricky's port side was clipped, shearing off a massive amount of wooden shrapnel, killing half and forcing the others to abandon ship as the rowboat capsized.
They were closing. Soon, the cannons wouldn't be able to hit them. However, as the cannons were furiously reloaded, a group of pony sailors holding crossbows suddenly emerged on the top deck. A symphony of twangs and thuds erupted.
“Thank god for you two,” Ricky said to Flaminitus and Aeneus, who just smirked as bolts glanced off their shields.
The ship was now so close that Ricky could poke it with his gladius. “Let's get up there!” Everyone began to head for a nearby gunport that was a handy foothold for climbing up the ship.
Suddenly, a black pony leaned over the railing on the top deck. It clutched a crossbow in its hooves.
Ricky could barely open his mouth before the bolt was fired. With a mighty twang, it flew towards the boat.
“Aaugh!” Flaminitus looked at his shield-holding arm in astonishment, the tip glistening a bloody red as it barely poked out. Within a moment, he collapsed.
Jeremiah was at his side in an instant. “Shit, he's going into shock!” He began to rummage through the first aid pack he had furiously. “Son of a motherfucking bitch,” he rattled off as he searched.
‘Wait, Jeremiah curses?’ That train of thought was quickly ended. “Jeremiah, can you handle him?” The medic looked up for long enough to nod.
Ricky turned back to the others. “Come on, we can't stand here!” Everyone remembered the situation, quickly going back to scrambling up the hull like a group of rock climbers.
Someone stuck a spear out at Ricky’s foot as he stepped on a porthole lip. Thankfully, the thrust was weak. Ricky simply kicked the spear down into the ocean and continued up.
It was only one deck away from the top, so close that Ricky could crane his neck over the edge, when a pony reappeared. This one also held a crossbow. He instantly noticed Ricky clinging to the side, and aimed down at his head.
‘Well, shit. I'm stuck.’ Ricky braced for the worst, clenching his eyes shut.
The twang of the drawstring never came. ‘Uh…’
Ricky slowly opened an eye. The pony was still there, but he was leaning up against the rail.
“Thank you, God,” Ricky muttered as he pulled himself the last few meters to the deck.
The scene unfolding before him was chaotic. Pony sailors and marines struggled with legionnaires in hand-to-hand combat, while Germans had a missile duel with the crossbow ponies.
‘Well, they fight hard, but this is quickly turning in our favor.’ Ricky looked across the water at the other two capital ships. The second one was also being boarded, but the third was blowing the rowboats attacking it to shreds. ‘That's a problem.’
He could just see the top of Decius’ head through the melee. “Decius!”
“Yes?!” The reply was almost drowned out by the noise.
“Get back in the boat, bring some legionnaires with! We're taking that third one!”
“Alright!”
Ricky quickly climbed back down and grabbed the oars. Decius and about fifteen legionnaires jumped in after him. “Go!”
Ricky began to row. Soon, he was sweating. ‘At least I lived and exercised in high altitude,’ the teen grimaced as the toll of constant action began to wear on him.
Luckily for Ricky, the third ship wasn't far, and they were soon within shouting distance. ‘Also means we're in cannon distance,’ Ricky thought.
A cannon fired. The splash doused Ricky and the others in chilly seawater.
“Agh!” Ricky put down the oars, rubbing his salt-filled eyes furiously. As soon as he finished, another cannonball landed next to them.
The third one clipped the prow, sending a chunk of wood the size of a fist shooting past everyone. “Close one there,” Ricky stated.
The fourth one crashed right through the middle, crushing a legionnaire to a bloody mess before slamming through the bottom, water immediately beginning to submerge the boat. “Shit! Bail, ditch the armor!” The legionnaires swiftly began to tear their heavy iron scale armor off, no panic evident on their faces.
The helmet on Ricky’s head, no doubt due to magic, weighed near nothing. ‘Wait. How'd I manage to forget I've been wearing this thing the whole time we’ve been here?!’ After a moment of thought, he realized something. ‘Well, now isn't the best time for this, so we'll chalk this up to magic as well.’
Everyone regrouped at the hull. The legionnaires and Decius all had ditched their armor and shields, only helmets and gladii remained. Ricky still had everything, his helmet, gladius, and rifle.
Climbing was achieved by boosting each other up to the lowest row of portholes. Ricky helped up most before going up himself.
Much like before, the deck was a scene of confusion. ‘Not many humans here,’ Ricky quickly noticed. Most of the humans had been cornered in the stern of the ship by a wall of ponies brandishing spears, swords, crossbows, knives, and so on. A small pony was lugging a butcher’s cleaver in his mouth.
This disposition of forces meant that Ricky only faced two ponies. One carried a carved sword, intricate patterns reflecting starlight. The other carried the basic issue spear that the Equestrian armed forces seemed to favor.
The spear pony acted first, a clumsy thrust. Ricky, already firmly footed, stepped to the side, grabbing the shaft as it went by. He yanked, and the pony lost it. It skid across the deck, out of the fight.
In this brief moment, Ricky attempted to draw his sword. A sudden chop swing forced him to dodge.
The now unarmed pony lunged, attempting to close the distance. Ricky brought up a solid knee to his chest. The pony, to his credit, did not fall. But he was forced to take a breather and rely on his comrade. ‘That sword one’s a girl. That face shape was the same as Twilight Sparkle,’ Ricky noticed randomly.
The sword pony now began to circle the human. She made sure to stay out of fist range, but close enough so that Ricky couldn't draw his gladius without getting impaled. ‘Not good,’ Ricky continued to circle with the pony.
Decius burst into the fight, sword flailing wildly. The sword pony was nearly hewn in two, jumping away at the last possible moment. However, Decius caught the edge of her blade with his own in a powerful slash, knocking it out of her hoof. Both ponies were now unarmed. They fled.
Decius made to chase them, but Ricky caught his arm. “Come on, let's go help the pocket.” The Roman nodded, and the two of them began to weave through bodies over to the surrounded initial boarding party.
Unfortunately, their approach had not gone unnoticed. The two humans were confronted by a dozen ponies as they drew close.
Admiral Tailwind stood among them, clutching a sword in his hoof. “We meet again, Ricky Welfork.”
“Yep. I don't have time for pleasantries, so kindly get out of my way.” Ricky's eyes narrowed. “Or I'll make you,” he threatened.
“The only time I will move for you is when my body lies cold,” Tailwind declared. His ponies shouted in the affirmative.
“You asked for it,” Ricky replied, crouching into a fighting stance.
A pony charged him with a spear. A sidestep and a quick thrust was all it took to end his attack. ‘Fool. No subtlety.’
The next four were cautious, but two began to feint, waiting for a weakness. ‘Great. Now the real fight begins.’
The pony to Ricky's left feinted, but this time Ricky quickly lunged, arms raised for a overhead chop. He cleaved the pony’s shoulder in two, the blade only stopping to rest when it hit the clavicle. The pony screamed horrendously, writhing for the rest of his short life as blood rushed out and painted the deck red.
No sooner was the first pony on the ground than the second one slashed towards where Ricky's head was. A second before, at least.
Instantly, Ricky was on the offensive again, swinging in a wide arc. The pony blocked, but Ricky had the leverage, and kicked the pony in the jaw as he pushed the sword point into the deck. When the pony staggered back, Ricky moved forward and slashed, drawing a line across the pony’s chest that slowly dribbled blood.
The pony was certainly not dead, but retreated behind its comrades. However, they were also being beset upon by two sides, each brandishing bayonets and swords.
‘Where is that bastard,’ Ricky wondered as he scanned the chaos. Between two ferocious melees, he found his target: Tailwind. The admiral was currently sticking a spear through the gut of a German who had the misfortune of an empty magazine.
Ricky confronted him as he finished. Tailwind scowled. “You damn humans don't know when to quit, do you?”
Ricky grinned. “Everyone seems to acknowledge that about us.”
“My sword is buried in a human I pushed overboard,” Tailwind growled, “and now I have only one weapon to fight you.” He pulled out two blades of foreign shape, which he quickly fitted on his wings.
“How fitting. The day I boarded my first ship for the navy, my father gave me these. He took me aside and told me ‘Son, these are your grandfather’s wingblades. They carry the family honor on your wings.’ And now they are my weapon to rid Equestria of its greatest scourge in a thousand years.” A crooked smile grew on the grizzled grey pony’s muzzle. “Sounds like something to write an epic about, no?”
“You'll have to get through the actual business of killing me first.”
“For my honor. And for my family, and all others that you, the grave specter of death, haunt.” Tailwind closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, they seemed clearer. “Yes. I must do this.” He lowered into a battle stance. “Fight me, Ricky Welfork, so that I may rid Equus of you and your ilk.”
“It'd be my damn pleasure.” And so the fight began.
It was a fighting style Ricky had never seen before. Tailwind didn't move, he flowed around Ricky. The wingblades simply sliced through the air until they found flesh, and then they moved up and away to the next attack. Within two minutes Ricky was bleeding badly from several cuts across the chest, and a nasty gash above his right eye. ‘Wow. I can barely even get near him,' Ricky thought in wonder as another of his attacks was beaten away with seemingly no effort form the aging pegasus. The next blow came immediately after, slashing Ricky across the hamstring. Ricky fell to his knees.
Tailwind laughed, a short, merciless bark with no hint of happiness. "Is this the best you can do?" Ricky snorted, but the pain prevented him from getting up to his feet.
Suddenly, as if it had crept up on him, Ricky felt the red mist descend over him again. His body's adrenaline cleared away the pain, making Ricky feel brand new. Now, Ricky could stand easily.
The shock on Tailwind's face was evident as he watched the human get back into a fighting stance. "How?! I've crippled you!”
“Humans can surprise you, Admiral. My ancestors used to behead people and stick the heads on pikes, and yet they also wrote poetry and music that could make the most bitter shed a tear.”
Tailwind grunted, taking up a fighting stance again. “Well, prepare to be-” He didn't finish, as Ricky slamming into him knocked the wind out of him.
Ricky began to furiously hack away at the elusive pegasus. Tailwind managed to dodge many of the wild blows, but one clipped his right wingtip, sending the wingblade flying off and out of sight. “Celestia damn it!”
However, the admiral still continued to easily cut into Ricky. But the stubborn Scot refused to fall or even stagger.
Another headlong charge caught Tailwind square in the ribs, sending him spinning off to land on the deck a few feet away. He coughed, and a bright splatter of blood came out.
“Goodbye, Admiral,” Ricky smirked as he stood over Tailwind, who didn't move as Ricky wound up a final thrust.
Blinding pain.
Ricky had staggered back and dropped his sword before he even registered moving. ‘What?’ That was all Ricky could manage through the waves of pain. Looking down just a bit, Ricky saw what the problem was.
A crossbow bolt was stuck, right in the middle of his stomach. Blood had already began to gush out. Without even inspecting it, Ricky could already tell it had pierced his intestines.
Ricky fell to the deck before he even began to feel weak. His red-clouded vision began to swim. Through the haze, Decius’ face appeared. He grimaced. “Come on, Ricky! You've got to stay awake!”
Even as he said this, however, the black curtain began to slowly drop. ‘God, no! I’m not gonna die here!’
He felt Decius begin to drag him towards the edge, all the while hollering for a medic.
Ricky couldn’t hold his eyelids open anymore. ‘Must… focus on other senses,’ he decided, focusing his effort on sound.
He heard the frantic run of another human as he stopped beside the two. “You called for a medic?”
“Yes,” Decius answered, “The commander here’s got a big fucking problem right now!”
“Oh shit, the commander! Give me a second.” The medic set down something heavy, metal clinking off itself as he rummaged through something. “Just the one bolt?”
“Yes, that's the only really severe one at least.”
Ricky felt the head of the medic on his chest. He let out a relieved sigh. “He's still alive, but it's not looking good. We need to get him back to the city, we've got better tools there. Here, grab his shoulders. I'll get his legs.”
The two hefted Ricky up and carried him over to the railing. Somehow, they managed to lower him down safely into the rowboat. Someone took the oars and began to row, and the sail made a snapping sound as it was unfurled.
The waves made such a rhythmic sound, combined with the wind’s whistle and the splash of the oars, that Ricky found himself drowsing off without even noticing.
“No, Ricky! You've got to stay awake!” That was the last Ricky heard as the black embrace of sleep took him from the waking world.