Equestria's Struggle: Chronicles of the 20th ERAD

by ZatGeneral

Chapter 5: One Last Effort

Chapter 5: One Last Effort

July 4th, 8th year of the Age of the Princesses
Sergeant First Class Steel Lance
20th Equestrian Royal Armored Division, C Battalion, Assault Platoon A.

Steel Lance, along with the rest of his crew, was caught flat hooved when the Troll artillery started to rain down from the skies. He was helping Corporal Jammy with maintenance on his King Panther. The King Panther had some issues with the gun sights and Steel Lance felt like he was obliged to help. When the artillery started coming down, Steel Lance had difficulties getting to his tank, largely because Blockhouse C22 was completely overrun within the first wave. The defenders managed to repel the first wave and expunge the Trolls from the blockhouse, but with a second wave of Trolls inbound there’s no time to savor the victory. Steel Lance, weary from the close quarters combat, took the brief moment of peace while making his way back to his Type S3E10 “Flying Phoenix”. He stopped to catch his breath close to one of the unused command rooms in the blockhouse. However, he noticed a cloaked figure talking on one of the radios.

Steel Lance quickly drew his Lugger 7.75 and slowly creeped up on his target. His heart pulsed as he carefully slid into the room and stepped ever closer to this cloaked figure. The closer he got, the more he wondered what this pony was talking about. He only heard the pony shout obscenities and beg for help on the radio.

“Yes, yes, no! We need help now!” shouted the cloaked pony. “Of course I don’t have clearance! We need a Neighblewerfer strike now! I wasn’t trained to give coordinates! Just fire on Blockhouse C22!”

Hearing the turncoat calling for a strike on friendly forces infuriated Steel Lance. Steel Lance pulled the unknown pony away from the radio, tearing the wires from the headset out and causing the radio to fall onto the floor. The cloaked pony also falls onto the floor with a hard thud. As his “cloak” flutters away, Steel Lance gets a good look at the pony he was stalking. It was Smartmouth’s gunner, Hoggish. Steel Lance placed a hoof on Hoggish’s chest and pointed his pistol at Hoggish’s head.

“What the bloody tatarus are you doing here?”

“I-I’m only trying to help sir!”

Steel Lance looked over to see that the cloak was simply a blanket from the barracks. He quickly looked back at Hoggish, the muzzle of his Lugger had not moved a millimeter.

“Help with what? You should be in your bloody tank Private!”

“I, I got trapped in here by the Trolls sir! Please let me go!”

“And you were calling for a Neighblewerfer strike on OUR position, why you wanking poppet!?!”

“I-I-I.” Studdered Hoggish.

Steel Lance picked up Hoggish and threw his against a wall and pinned him there with one of his forehooves. He looked Hoggish in the eye all the while keeping his Lugger pointed at Hoggish’s head.

“What are you doing here Hoggish? I know about the issue with you and the company’s roster. Commander Applejack may have added you but I know a bloody weasel when I see it.”

Hoggish’s expression fell from a panic to one of fear. But it wasn’t from Steel Lance’s threats.

“Sir... Sir..” Muttered Hoggish while tapping Steel Lance’s shoulder. “Sir behind you...”

“Hmph, Do you really think I’m going to fall for that you little bugger?”

“Sir! Sir! It’s getting closer! If you don’t get that Troll we’re both going to die!”

A moment of panic struck Steel Lance. He decided to quickly look over his shoulder but before he could get a good at the supposed assailant, Steel lance felt a sharp blow to the back of his head. He blackout in a near instant and fell to the floor never knowing if Hoggish was lying or if there really was a Troll.

- - -

July 4th, 8th year of the Age of the Princesses
Corporal Raisin Oats
Imperial Air Force 5th Eagle Flight, Blitz Squadron, 2nd Heavy Bomber Wing

Corporal Oats was an ordinary sandwich shop owner who felt like she needed to do more with her life. She joined the military as a chef but she felt that there was no glory in heated up pre-made meals. She signed up to be a Pegasus bombardier, thinking that looking down a bomb sight and dropping bombs couldn’t be so different from looking down on a sandwich and dropping condiments. She was horrified to find out that being a Pegasus bombardier meant that she had to carry two fifteen kilogram bombs and jump out of a plane, only to drop them on a target of choice. Raisin Oats was about to try and transfer back to being a chef, but the attack on the Mareginot Line put an end to her plans.

She sat in the hull of a Bowing PB-20, listening to the four massive engines rumble and fiddling with her dog tags. She was scared out of her mind and looking out the small windows constantly. She flinched when she felt a hoof on her shoulder. She turned to face the pony, her clunky and heavy altimeter headset rattling all the while.

“First time, eh?” asked her Sergeant.

“You have no idea.”

“Yeah I was practically pissing myself too before my first drop.”

“How bad was it?”

“Oh the Haters had all sorts of AA, I had to fly though a maw filled with streaks of twenty mills. I managed to get through and drop my bombs though. Needless to say, I was glad I took my Leftenant’s advice about bringing another fresh pair of underwear.”

“I uh.. I didn’t bring extra underwear...”

“Well then you’re just going to have to deal with a slushy uniform then!” chuckled Corporal Gust.

“I suppose then you're just going to have to hold it until we make landfall.”

“Will the Trolls have AA Sarge?” asked Oats

“Nope. You got really lucky Oats. Other than the occasional Troll rifle fire, we should be clear all the way down.”

Oats let out a small sigh. She felt a little better about her situation and started checking her weapon. Her Type S2E1 submachine gun seemed to be “clean as a whistle” as her sergeant liked to put it, although she thought it looked like a couple of pipes welded together to Oats.

A sudden scratch of the radio alerted everypony in the bomb bay.

“Attention all crew! We are one minute away from the target!”

“Alright everypony! Grab your bombs and say your prayers! There’s a lot of brave Trolls knocking on the Mareginot Line... Let’s show them that they aren’t welcome!”

The hull of the bomber filled with the battle cry of the bombardiers.

“HOORAH!”

Again the intercom inside the place lout out a whiling scratch.

“Attention! thirty seconds to drop! Bomb doors opening!”

With the squeals of hydraulic pistons, Oats watches as the floor opened in front of her. She could see the bunkers of the Mareginot Line, the glowing streaks of artillery, plumes of dirt and debris from exploding shells and the fireballs that were exploding tanks. One particular explosion caught the bombardiers attention, a massive fireball that flung a tank’s turret several meters into the air.

“That was one of ours!” cried Corporal Lowblow.

A sudden and sharp ping along with the bombardiers cabin being illuminated with a bright green light signaled the bombardiers to drop.

“Alright maggots! Time to show them our toys! GO! GO! GO!” Shouted Oat’s Sergeant

The bombardiers poured out of the plane one after the other, letting gravity pull them down towards the advancing Troll hordes. All of them, say for Oats. Oats clutched the edge of her seat, scared out of her mind. Oats saw the copilot look back into the crew hold through the porthole in the door that led to the pilot’s cabin. Oats watched was the copilot motioned his hoof a few times and then look back at her. She desperately shook her head and quietly repeating “no” under her breath. See saw the copilot wave goodbye and a few moments later, the bomber began a slow tilt to the left. Oats clung tightly to her head rest but only caught a glimpse of her bomb bag rolling towards her head. Rather than take twenty kilos of high explosive ordinance to her face, Oats let go of the head rest and fell out of the bomb bay.

Raisin Oats gave her wings a few flaps and caught the handles of her bomb bag. Instinct took over as she dove towards the mass of Trolls. With the five kilogram bombs in her bomb bag safe, Oats flipped the altimeter’s gauge into her sight. The wobbling dial obscured her left eye’s vision but she could make out how far she was. She watched as the needle circled around and the counters rolling numbers back.

She counted in her head as she watched the crater blasted fields of of the Mareginot Line screamed closer to her.

“Two point eight clicks... Two point seven... Two point six...”

The mass of Trolls became more and more detailed the closer Oats fell. She looked behind her to see the bomber she was just on turning away from the battle.

“Two point three... Two point two... Two point one...”

She could start making out the shapes of tanks, the shapes of field guns, mortar positions and artillery positions in the rear of the Troll lines. Oats quickly saw that the Trolls had ceased their artillery strikes in an attempt to limit friendly fire. She adjusted her wings so that she would drift over the Troll’s artillery pieces.

“One point nine... One point eight... One point seven...”

She saw the long guns of the Trolls artillery. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, she knew that such a vulnerable target was just begging to be taken out. An explosion quickly caught her attention. She looked up to see that another Pegasus bombardier had decided to target the artillery pieces as well. One, two, three, four artillery pieces were knocked out. Oats saw the bombardier responsible flying towards her. In a quick flyby, Oats managed to make out the fellow Pegasus, it was Lowblow waving hi to her. She snapped back to her targets.

“One point five... One point four... One point three...”

Oats primed one of her bombs and removed the safety pin. She imagined it was a slice of tomato that she was about drop onto a pizza. She shut her left eye and looked dead on at the artillery piece. She let go of the bomb and opened her wings, soaring to the next target.

“One point two and holding!”

She glided to the next artillery piece and dropped a primed bomb, then again on her third target, then again for a fourth artillery piece. As soon as she dropped her last bomb, she looked back behind her just in time to see the explosion from her first bomb. It was a direct hit and the ammunition stockpiled close to the artillery piece detonated in a massive fireball. Her second target lit up in a fireball, then the third and finally the fourth artillery piece she targeted were destroyed. She feel relieved to have hit all her targets. Oats slung her Type S2E1 into her hooves and flew over to the Troll field guns that were pummeling the defenders. She dove over a cluster of three of these field guns, spraying her submachine gun all the while. Oats had about emptied her magazine when one of her 7.75mm bullets found its way into a box of Troll shells. The resulting ammo detonation surprised her and she stopped her descent. Oats loaded her gun and flew towards another cluster of field guns.

“Five hundred meters... Four hundred... Three hundred..”

Oats held her fire until she could accurately dispatch each Troll manning the field guns. She felt the grass on her hooves for the first time in a day. Oats could see the look of terror on the Troll gun crews right before she unleashed a hail of bullets.

“YAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” screamed Oats as she gunned down the Troll crews.

A sudden click resonating from her submachine gun ended the stream of bullets. She quickly looked at her gun and saw the breech open. Oats quickly grabbed a new magazine and was about to load it until was about to load it when something struck her body. She felt her submachine gun fall out of her hooves. She felt the grass on her face and turned to the source of the blow. It was a Troll gunner, a Troll unscathed by Oat’s spraying. Oats was shocked that the Troll was able to assault her in the few seconds she took to reload. Oats looked around desperately for her submachine gun, knowing very well that the Troll is readying to crush her with the shell casing he struck her with earlier. Oats managed to find her weapon but just as the submachine gun was within hoof’s reach, the Troll stepped on her. She desperately reaches for the Type S2E1 but she just couldn’t reach it. She watched as the Troll raise his shell casing. A burst of rifle fire tears a hole in the Troll’s gut. Oats flinched as Troll blood spurts over her face. When the Troll fell over dead, Lowblow was standing there.

“Not bad for a first drop Oats.”

Oats picked up her Type S2E1 and wiped the blood off her coat and out of her mane. “Thanks for the save Lows...”

“Don’t thank me yet, we still got a line to defend.”

“Well I hope you got something we can use to knock out these guns.”

“Why would we destroy three perfectly good guns we could use?”

“Do you know how to work one of these things?”

“Well it can’t be that hard... I mean I’ve told you about a buddy of mine who’s in the Fourteenth Artillery Brigade.. right?”

Oats walked over to one of the troll field guns with Lowblow in front. The two meandered for a bit before Lowblow found the lever that opened the gun breech.

“Oh okay. I see how this thing works. Do you think you can aim the gun Oats?”

“But... I don’t know how to aim the gun... I mean this thing clearly can rotate, but...”

Oats started spinning a few of the cranks. She quickly discovered how to elevate and traverse the gun.

“Okay... I think I got it..” said Oats as Lowblow loaded a round into the gun.

Oats looked into the sights of the gun and wondered if the sights worked in a similar manner as her submachine gun. She cranked the gun and took aim at a Garbage Can. A Troll’s hand landing on the breach startled Oats.

“Eep!”

The Trolls was wounded. There were several small bullet holes in his body from when Oats was spraying. Oats nearly had a heart attack but Lowblow looked intrigued. When Oats pulled her submachine gun out, Lowblow objected.

“Wait wait wait!”

“What? Why?”

The Troll slowly tried to stand, bracing his torso against the gun breech.

“My buddy always told me never to stand behind the gun breech when the thing goes off... I kind of want to see why.”

Lowblow gripped the lanyard tightly and yanked hard. The field gun fired without flaw and the resulting recoil caused the gun breech to completely crush the wounded Troll’s chest. A deep depression was all that was left of the Troll’s rib cage after the body was thrown a good two meters away.

“Okay... I see he wasn’t kidding...”

Lowblow removed his backpack and pulled out the flag of Equestria. He sprawled it out over a small parcel of grassy hill close to the Troll field guns.

“What’s the flag for?”

“So then we don’t get hit by our own bombardiers.” said Lowblow as he loaded another shell into the blood spattered breach. “The gun’s loaded!”

Oats aimed down the sights again, unsure whether her first shot hit or missed her target. She sighted in another tank, a Dumpster if she remembered Troll tanks correctly. Oats took the lanyard and gave it a good yank. The inaccuracy of the Troll field gun was astounding, the shell veered sharply to the left and cut a swath of death against the masses of Troll warriors, but it didn’t strike the intended target.

“I missed!”

“Well try again!” shouted Lowblow as he loaded another shell.

Oats took aim at the Dumpster again, but before she could fire, the Dumpster’s turret was removed cleanly by a something. From Oat’s view, the Dumpster’s turret was sheared off by something coming from her left. Oats turned to investigate the source of the attack. She was surprised to see that the dumpster was killed by tanks of the 20th Equestrian Royal Armored Division.

“Lowblow! Are you seeing this?”

“Yeah... what are those ERAD guys thinking? They’re charging forward out of their bunkers!”

Oats looked at the advancing battle group of tanks. She could see there was a Monarch Tiger, a Flying Phoenix, two King Panthers and a Scrapheap charging into the Troll horde. Oats watched as the battle group cut through the horde with ease, the attack seemingly caught the Trolls off guard. She watched as several Troll tanks ceased their fire on the concrete bunkers and turned to face the Equestrian tanks advancing towards them. A Dumpster managed to penetrate one of the King Panthers which promptly burst into flame. Oats watched in horror as the crew of the burning King Panther climb out and roll around on the ground for a bit before being finished off by the flames. She felt a spark of anger grow in her, she swiveled the gun at the Dumpster and fired.

“Take that you Trolling scum!”

Oats’ shell stuck the Dumpster dead on. The ammo rack must have detonated as the Dumpster simply ceased to exist.

“Loaded!”

Oats aimed again as another Dumpster wandered into her sights. She yanked the lanyard but the Dumpster exploded before she shell landed. Oats saw the Monarch Tiger roll up to the Dumpster and crush it while bouncing several rounds fired at it. She turned the field gun at another Dumpster. Her shot destroyed two of them, a double penetration resulting in a turret decapitation and an ammo rack detonation to the Garbage Can in front of the Dumpster. Her shot caught the attention of the Monarch Tiger’s commander. Oats watched as the twin 90mm guns slowly turn towards her. Oats heart stopped for a second, she couldn’t bear the thought of being killed by friendly fire.

“Uhh... Oats.. you seeing this?”

“Yes!”

Something clicked in Oats’ head at that very moment. She grabbed the flag Lowblow laid on the ground earlier. She climbed on top of the field gun and let the flag flutter in the breeze. Oats knew one thing, the tank commander would either see the flag or she would die.

- - -

A muffled voice flowed through his ears.

“Am I dead?” he muttered weakly.

He saw a light at the end of a dark tunnel and he remembered the tales everypony would tell about the light at the end of a tunnel.

“I must be dead.”

Again a muffled voice flowed around him. He could not understand what the voice was trying to say. The light at the end of the tunnel was getting brighter but something else what happening. He felt colder as the light became brighter. It didn’t make any sense to him.

Again, the voice called to him, but it was clearer this time. He could make out something from it but he couldn’t understand everything the voice said.

“Lance?..” he muttered weakly.

Again the voice called “lance” again.

“Who’s Lance?”

The light became blinding. He felt a horrible chill on the back of his neck as the voice called out to him again.

“Who is this Lance?”

The light consumed him and the voice became as clear as day now.

“Wait... I’m Steel Lance...”

July 4th, 8th year of the Age of the Princesses
Sergeant First Class Steel Lance
20th Equestrian Royal Armored Division, C Battalion, Assault Platoon A.

Steel Lance awoke to Smartmouth and Crosskill, his gunner, looking over him. He felt the back of his head, there was a bandage chilled with a bag of ice he was laying on for a bit. He thought to himself;

I must be dead if this is happening...

“¡Luna mío! You had us worried Steel Lance.”

“Ung...” moaned Lance. “What... What happened?...”

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

“Erg... I’d believe anything at this point lass...”

“Hoggish saved your sorry flank.”

“Okay... maybe not anything...”

“Smartmouth was running to her tank when she apparently found Hoggish dragging your ass around.”

“I suppose I owe that poppet an apology...”

Steel Lance slowly lifted himself up, carefully rubbing the back of his head as he stood on his hooves. Crosskill left Steel Lance’s vision as she walked away. Steel Lance slowly shook his head, feeling the soreness of his neck muscles

“Errg... I suppose I should thank you as well, Smartmouth...”

Smartmouth reeled back a little bit, a little more flustered than before.

“Excuse me?”

“Well I doubt that twat could carry me by himself and Crosskill here said that you “found Hoggish dragging my ass around.” So... I’m to assume that you helped drag me to... wherever we are...”

The whopping thud from Steel Lance’s Type S10E3 “Flying Phoenix” made it obvious where Steel Lance was. He could see his tank, the “pudding basin” style turret made by the Neighjing Consortium sticking out of a tank dugout.

“Oh.” said Steel Lance slowly as he walked over to his tank.

“Wait! Are you sure you’re fit for duty?” remarked Smartmouth.

“I’m not dead am I lass?”

“No, but you’re in no shape to fight, Sir.”

Steel Lance grinned a bit knowing this was a chance to mess with Smartmouth. “I didn’t realise you cared about me like that, Smartmouth. What are you looking to get out of a arse like myself?” joked Steel Lance as he ascended the smooth sides of the Flying Phoenix’s turret.

Steele Lance could see Smartmouth’s cheeks blush as she reeled back defensively.

“¡Ai! ¡Yo no quise decir eso! ¡Eres un hijo de puta!” shouted Smartmouth.

Steel Lance couldn’t help but laugh. Although his laughter was stopped by the terrible pain on the back of his head. He rubbed the back of his head and blew Smartmouth a kiss before retreating into the Flying Phoenix’s turret. He heard Smartmouth yelling some possible insults in Spaneighsh but the clanking of the turret hatch shut out any yelling Smartmouth may have been doing. Steel Lance watched as Smartmouth trotted back to her Monarch Tiger in a huff.

The Flying Phoenix shook after it expended another round.

“So what’s going between you and her, sir?” asked Clear Canvas

“Ah I’m just yanking her leg.”

“Sounds like you want to do more than yank her leg, sir.”

Steel Lance felt himself blush a little bit. “Hey! Get back to loading the bloody gun you slacker!!”

Another shot shoot the tank. The steam from the spent shell casing puffed into turret interior.

“What’s the matter? Does someone have a little crush? Well at least you have good taste in mares.”

“Uh... not to interrupt or anything... But we’re about to get over run!” shouted Crosskill.

Steel Lance peered through the cupola sights and saw the wave of Trolls advancing towards his flank.

“Oh bugger... Fire! Fire everything!”

Steel Lance could only watch was the massive wave of Trolls etched slowly towards his position. Rapid thudding of the Flying Phoenix’s twin 2cm flaks were no comfort as every Troll brought down seemed to be replaced by ten more. Even the swath of dead Trolls cut by the Flying Phoenix’s 75mm cannon was filled in with more and more trolls and soon, those Trolls would be climbing all over his tank.

“Back it up! Back up the bloody tank!” Steel Lance shouted to his driver, Sharp Turn.

Sharp Turn lived up to his name. He backed up the Flying Phoenix and performed a very aggressive retreating zig-zag maneuver. The tank rocked and swayed violently and the tank nearly flipped a few times because of the concave tracks.

Crosskill was having a terrible time aiming. Spurts of dirt erupted from the ground from where the flak rounds struck.

Even with the constant motion, Steel Lance managed to catch a glimpse of a King Panther crawling over the concrete trenches.

“I’ve got your back sir!” shouted Jammy over the radio.

“Bloody good timing!” Steel Lance saw another defensive position a few meters behind him. “Sharp! Back us up straight and true for twenty meters!”

“Aye Sir!”

Sharp Turn drove the Fighting Phoenix into the wide concrete trench. Several Equestrian Soldiers were a little confused why a tank wanted to share the trenches with them. From that position, the Fighting Phoenix’s weak hull was again safe from the advancing Troll horde.

“Dumpster! Two o’clock!”

“I’m on it boss!” said Crosskill as she started turning the turret.

Suddenly, a massive explosion overwhelmed the sounds of battle around them. Steel Lance turned his head to the source just in time to see the turret of a VKV fly through the air, trailing fire all the while.

“What the Tartarus was that!?!” cried Canvas as she destroyed the Dumpster.

“One of ours.”

“Did you see that mess, Sir?” shouted Jammy.

“There’s nothing we can do for them lads! But we can be damned sure that the Troll’s won’t win!” shouted Steel Lance as he opened the cupola’s hatch.

“What in Equestria are you doing!?!”

“I’m not going to sit in a chair like a fruit while we’re being overwhelmed!”

Steel Lance reached for his Lugger but it wasn’t there. “Ah bugger...” He looked around for where his pistol could have been, but it wasn’t there. “Crosskill! I need a weapon!”

Crosskill passed her Brownie to Steel Lance. “Be careful with that okay! That’s a vintage!”

Steel Lance pulled back the slide, stood out of the cupola and started pulling the trigger. He didn’t bother aiming. He simply pointed at the horde and shot. The defenders of the line weathered wave after wave of Tolls and it seemed that this wave would finally break the Mareginot Line. Steel Lance knew he had to act, he knew the defenders can’t take the pressure of this surge.

“To all commanders in my platoon! What’s the ammunition count in your tank?”

“We’re about halfway through our ammunition, Sir.” answered Smartmouth grudgingly.

“We’re still fairly stocked, Sir!” shouted Jammy

“We’re still good here, Sir!” responded Clover

“We are almost dry but we can still fight, Sir!” yelled Boulder

“Good! I want you to follow my tank!”

“Wait.. you’re not suggesting?...”

“Yes. We’re going to charge.”

Smartmouth was shocked. She knew Steel Lance had taken a hefty blow to the head, but she didn’t think it affected him like this. “Did that blow to your head drive you loco!?!”

“Think about it Smartmouth, all the Trolls are doing is moving forward... they won’t pay attention to their flanks!”

“You’re crazy! You know that right!?!” shouted Jammy.

“Look! The Line isn’t going to withstand another wave! The only choices we have are to retreat and let them into Equestra! Or we can use our tanks in one final effort to drive back the Trolls!”

Jammy stayed silent over the radio.

“Sharp Turn! Take us forward.”

“Ach. Alright, but if we die, you owe me money laddie!”

Sharp Turn pushed both of the steering sticks forward while chugging a thermos of coffee. The Flying Phoenix lurched forward and out of the trenches. Soldiers in the trenches were confused watching the Flying Phoenix charge forward.

“If we live, I’ll buy you that really expensive coffee you like Sharp!”

“Hey! If you’re going to charge like an idiot, let the Scrapheap take the punishment!” yelled Sgt. Boulder as his tank rolled forward. The Scrapheap rolled over the trenches with surprising grace.

Sgt. Clover let out a deep sigh while closing her eyes. She opened them again with a stern look on her face.“Well I can’t let you guys have all the glory! Roll out!” And with that, Clover’s King Panther backed out of its bunker and moved with the group.

“Celestia salvar nos... I guess somepony has to pull your flank out of trouble Sir.” Smatmouth’s Monarch Tiger trundled forward, guns blazing.

“We’re going to die...” muttered Jammy as he ordered his tank to move with the battle group.

Steel Lance was nervous, he knew his plan was nearly impossible to pull off as simple as it was. He’d always wanted to perform a glorious charge like the knights of old but he wasn’t sure it was the best course of action at the moment. Steel Lance took a deep breath and realised this might buy the Mareginot Line a few more precious moments. His tanks were lined up just past the concrete trenches and behind the barbed wire to their front. They were ready, he was ready.

“Charge everypony! Give these twats a good pounding!”

The five tanks had their engines roar and jolted forward. Steel Lance looked around to see his tanks sending a blistering amount of fire towards the horde. He could see Crosskill sending firing everything the Flying Phoenix could offer. He counted the seconds it took his tank to smash into the wall of flesh. He managed to count ten before his tank started plowing through the Trolls. Steel Lance’s plan seemed to be working, Trolls at the front of the horde reacted to the his charge by dodging, but the Trolls to the read had no idea what was going on. They were caught completely flat footed and couldn’t maneuver to dodge the incoming tanks. Their ranks were so dense that the dead couldn’t fall down unless they were crushed by the tanks.

Despite all the carnage and blood coating his viewports, Steel lance could still see the shapes on tanks unaware to his battle group’s presence.

“Garbage can! At our ten!”

“Yes sir!”

The Flying Phoenix’s motorised turret rotated swiftly and Crosskill was able to destroy the Garbage can despite the twenty or so head that were smashed on the barrel. The Flying Phoenix, along with the other tanks in this suicidal platoon, carved a swath of death running parallel to the Mareginot line. They had completely sent the Trolls into disarray, the Trolls were had lost their momentum, taking precious time to shoot their rifles at the tanks charging. The Entire offensive seemed to bog down as the Trolls who were still charging were killed off and the Trolls distracted with Steel Lance’s tanks proved easy targets for the defending Ponies.

“Target down!”

Steel Lance tried to see what kind of tank he could target next but the second he laid eyes on a Dumpster, the turret was sheared off.

“Bloody good shot on that Dumpster!”

“You hear that Hoggish? The platoon commander just gave you a compliment.”

“I can’t believe this is working!” laughed Jammy.

A few of the tanks assaulting the bunkers of the Mareginot Line started to turn their turrets to fire upon Steel Lance’s tanks.

“Crosskill! Take out the Dumpster!”

Before Crosskill could pull the trigger, the Dumpster managed to fire a shot and Jammy’s King Panther. The round struck where the turret ring and penetrated. Killing Corporal Cloud Runner instantly and starting a fire. Sergeant Jammy and his crew had no time to escape, the fire coated the inside the entire crew compartment. Steel Lance not only watched the flames burst out from ever slit and viewport in the tank, but the screams of the crew members could be heard across the radio. It tore Steel Lance apart, having to watch Jammy, his drive and loader crawl out of the tank, their faces charred and uniforms ablaze. They rolled around for a bit, trying to extinguish the fire but it was no use.

Steel Lance turned to his gunner again. “Damn it! I want that Dumpster dead!”

Moments later the Dumpster was destroyed by a terrible explosion.

“That was for Jammy you bastards!” shouted Steel Lance.

“Uh sir... that wasn’t me.” muttered Crosskill.

Smartmouth’s Monarch Tiger rolled past Steel lance’s tank and crushed another Dumpster. The beautiful sounds of shells bouncing off the Monarch Tiger, along with the sharp metallic protests of the flattening Dumpster gave Steel Lance a small scene of retribution.

“What do you mean that wasn’t you Crosskill?”

“I didn’t kill the Dumpster.”

“It was probably one of the others th-”

A shot tore through a Dumpster’s turret, taking it clean off and went further on to embed itself in a Garbage Can’s ammo rack. The resulting explosion caught Steel Lance’s attention.

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“¡Ay, caramba!” exclaimed Smartmouth. They have anti-tank guns on the hills!”

“Take care of the little blighters!”

“Hoggish! Anti-tank guns on the hill! Thirty five degrees right!”

It was at that time that Boulder saw a small figure appear standing on the anti-tank gun. He couldn’t make out if it was a Troll, but when it let the flag of Equestria blow in the breeze he knew that it wasn’t an enemy.

“WAIT! Tell your gunner to hold fire Smartmouth! Those are friendlies on the hill! HOLD FIRE! I repeat; hold fire!”

But it was too late. Hoggish had already pulled the trigger, sending a 90mm AP shell down towards the gun. It struck a crate of ammo after penetrating the blast shield and the gun, along with the friendly, vanished in a ball of fire. Hoggish regretted doing so, even if he pulled the trigger when Boulder was shouting.

“Ohballsohballsohballsohballsohballs!!!”

“Nice going dumbass! You just killed one of our own!”

“Back off! It was a hard target to see and we couldn’t identify it fast enough!” At the time, Smartmouth didn’t realise it, but she was defending Hoggish.

Steel Lance couldn’t believe it either, he had just ordered one of his tanks to open fire on a friendly. But what’s done is done, and Steel Lance stopped any arguing with one order;

“Now’s not the time for this lads! It was an accident but if we sit here and dally over it we’ll all be killed! Come on now, we have Trolls to nut!”

“Sir!” called out Quick Knob, Steel Lance’s radio operator. “It’s Commander Applejack! She wants to know “what the hell we’re doing”.

“Radio back that I have no idea what I’m doing!”

“Yes sir!”

“Keep the tank moving! We don’t stop until we run out of ammo!”

Fortunately, the battle group didn’t need to expend all of their ammo. The confusion sown by Steel Lance’s Tanks gave the defenders a break and valuable time to regroup, take back positions and reload. The dwindling strength of the Mareginot Line was restored. It wasn’t restored to full strength, but enough to repel the Troll attack. Another tank platoon decided to follow Steel Lance’s example and charged forward from the opposite flank. The Trolls, confused and disorientated by the sudden Equestrian offensive, retreated. The Trolls, not even bothering to take back their anti tank guns and artillery pieces, scrambled back over the hills. Perfectly functional weapons and tanks were simply abandoned.

“We did it!”

“They’re retreating!”

“And don’t come back!”

“We won!”

“No.. We haven’t won... not yet...” Steel Lance rubbed the back of his head, feeling the pain return as his adrenaline wore off. “They’ll be back... they always come back.”

Smartmouth sighed a bit. “If we don’t get help soon, we won’t survive the night.”

July 4th, 8th year of the Age of the Princesses
First Lieutenant Teatime
8th Canterlot Royal Guard, 1st battalion, Heavy Armor Division

Teatime looked to the skies to see a squadron of Bowing PB-20s flying towards the morning sun. The roar of the massive beast’s four engines resonated through the air, causing the tea in her cup to ripple lightly as a breeze blew across her purple coat and golden mane. She counted at least twenty of the bombers before she looked down to take a sip of tea. Teamtime looked around for a bit, wondering where her loader, Jeevis is. Jeevis, a rather elderly looking white Earth Pony with a grey mane would be fairly difficult to spot if it were not for his formal dining suit. Teatime spotted him as he exited one of the garages in Vanhoover’s Fort Stable.

“Jeevis, my dear, what’s the status of the tanks refueling?”

“The facilities in Fort Stable seem to be inadequate for the number of tanks in our battalion my lady. If the crews work through the night, the entire battalion should be ready to leave by tomorrow’s afternoon.”

Teatime let out a sigh full of discontent. Her day was already full of disappointment. Teamtime had hoped to show off her competence as a commander since her battalion's captain was on leave for being sick to the bone. However, things have not been going her way at all. 1st battalion was forced to drive their tanks to the Mareginot Line since the Imperial Army commandeered many of the transport trains for their own use. She was later forced to leave several of her VKVs behind due to the VKVs shedding their tracks when she received word that the Mareginot Line was under heavy attack and now it seems that their entire battalion would be bogged down due to a fuel shortage in Fort Stable.

“Thank you Jeevis for telling me this.”

“Always a pleasure to serve.” said Jeevis as he climbed into the Type S1E1-F, otherwise known as the “Canterlot Custom”.

“Ach, It’s a damn shame we won’t get ta tha line in time eh lassie?” muttered Lorry Lane, the tank’s driver.

Teatime thought to herself for a bit. “Jeevis, my dear, how many tanks are prepared to move?”

“Only a hoof full, my lady.”

“Then we’re going to move on without them.” Teatime switched her microphone on with a press of her hoof.

“Attention, any tank commanders whose vehicle is fuelled and prepared to fight please be a dear and respond.”

“TANK DESTHROYAH REPORTING!!!” Yelled Loudmouth

Some fumbling noises and static crackling came through Teatime’s headset before Earshot’s voice came through.

“Sorry about that, Earshot here, and we’re ready to move out.”

“Guitar Solo here, ready to move.”

“Loudspark fuelled and ready to move.”

“Ostwind, ready to roll out.”

“Wirbelwind, ready and waiting Panzerfuhrer.”

“Steelplate, reporting.”

“Yeah, this is Lazy Eye here, we’re ready.”

“Yo, do ya even know who you’re talk’n to here Commander? Bonk is always ready!”

“Highlander is ready fer battle!”

After Highlander’s transmission ended, there was a long pause. No other commanders answered Teatime’s call. This was the force Teamtime would lead to aid the Mareginot Line and she knew she couldn’t do it but she could at least buy the line more time.

“Mares and gentlecolts, start your engines and fuel up on rations, we’re leaving for the Mareginot Line.”

“Wait... so you want us to relieve the Mareginot Line with only ten tanks?”

“Ach, I thought ye were a tough lad Loudmouth, or are ye all bark’n no bite.” joked Lorry.

“I suppose that if we wait for the rest of the company, there won’t be a Mareginot line to defend.” sighed Wirbelwind.

“Certainty of death, small chance of success, what are we waiting for lads?”

“We’ll show these trolls the what for commander! Just give the word!”

“We’ll push them back!”

“We won’t be able to push them back Lazy eye, there won’t be any Trolls left to throw back!”

For the first time today, Teatime felt like everything was going to be alright, that everything was going right for once. The fervor of her fellow tankers gave Teamtime hope, hope that she really could save the Mareginot Line, even if rushing to aid the defenders would most likely result in failure, it would still buy the rest of the company time to move to assist the defenders. Teatime looked to the skies again. She saw nothing but open orange sky and the occasional whips of a cloud.

“Alright gents! Button up and roll out!”

Teatime ducked into her tank’s turret and locked the hatch as the first jets of smoke spewed out of her tank’s exhaust. The powerful Type S4E1 Engine made by the Neighjing Consortium purred quietly despite its twelve cylinders.

“Lorry, take us to the Mareginot Line.”

Comments

[JaguarKnight]

Very well done, I applaud your efforts

[ZatGeneral]

3549009 Well Thank you :D

[JaguarKnight]

3575908 I'm thinking about posting some of my old stories, the half-baked ones. Ones that I just thought up while I was derping away on Microsoft Word but never actually developed them any further.
Maybe it might amount to something eh, I don't know, I will probably put them up.
For now I stroke my mustache.

[ZatGeneral]

3576096 Well any story is a good story... there are a billion things wrong with that statement but you can't get better unless someone points our the flaws, eh?

[JaguarKnight]

3586491
Thanks
I should have the first chapter up by Christmas

[StormAlchemist15]

“Yo, do ya even know who you’re talk’n to here Commander? Bonk is always ready!”

Uh, No. I'm the only scout here!