IV
Night Mares
IV.
August
Year 6 of the Harmonic Age
CLANG
A hollow brass shell falls to the ground. The metallic sound reminds me of the old school bell back home…
CLANG
I slowly raise my head up from my backpack, squinting at the golden rays of Celestia’s late morning sun filtering through cracks in the ceiling. There will be no more rest as the crew of tank 032 empties their collection of spent cartridges below my perch in a bell tower. I let out a deep sigh and rise to a sitting position before drinking from my canteen.
CLANG
I turn to one of four thick, stone pillars supporting the roof and use a metal finger to score a thin line diagonally across four vertical notches. My ears swivel and flick at the sound of distant pops and cracks somewhere to the north.
CLANG
I lean back and quickly make a ponytail of my red mane, fixing it in place with my old pink bow. Tiny holes and tears riddle the dirty strip of cloth, but it continues to hold fast. I crack a smile and retrieve a bag of oats from my pack as the clatter of spent shells rattles on like clockwork. Glowing dust motes dance about the empty space in which the bell used to reside - before it was hit by a stray tank shell, that is. I reckon the great bell’s final peal could be heard all the way in Canterlot.
Following that particular assault the northern flank finally buckled, pushing the Equestrians and Nightmare Three back quite a ways. Old Star Shade didn’t like that one bit, though. In a flash he rounded everypony up and established another defensive line in true commander fashion. Sweetie, Scootaloo and I set up shop in this here bell tower and have remained for what’s now been five days, which would mean six have passed since the first encounter.
My breath catches and I swallow hard. It’s only been six days, and I’ve…
My gaze shifts to a sword leaning upright in a corner. Seven white scratches are etched into the dark metal. I glance down to my long rifle where eleven little slashes have been carved next to the trigger. I force myself to look away and quickly stuff my mouth with tasteless oats.
Only a few seconds, that time. Not even a single sob, either.
I’m getting better.
I crunch along and look up into the sun’s rays, letting my thoughts turn to home.
--
An empty shell casing falls with a light cling as a new round is chambered.
Only one more notch has been added to my weapon by the time 032 finally rids itself of all its spent shells. As the days have passed the frequency of enemy sightings has fallen, but even so we are to remain in this tower and maintain a bird’s eye view should the current stalemate become another push. Every so often a small series of snaps will echo through the streets, but from what I can tell the enemy’s advance has been restricted to the northern reaches of the town while the southern and middle sectors have become deathly quiet.
I rise from my belly and thoroughly stretch, sighing at the sound of several satisfying pops coming from my spine. I rub my eyes and peer through wooden planks nailed between the stone support pillars. Sweetie and Scootaloo are both assisting the crew of 032 reload under the amber glow of an early sunset behind distant towering mountains. Dark blue clouds loom far out east above the peaks, flashes of white light flickering from their depths.
My ears swivel toward to the sound of laughter from below. The five ponies that maintain 032 are introducing themselves. I sink back to a prone position and rest my cheek on the rifle’s stock, shifting to get as comfortable as possible. I resume a slow pan to the left and then back to the right, watching for any movement amidst the maze of town homes and cottages. I idly listen to the talk below.
Somepony is from Baltimare.
Three from Canterlot.
Tank 031’s crew is entirely comprised of Canterlot citizens. Some names are given.
Sweetie Belle suddenly squeaks in surprise. I chuckle. She still does that when she gets all excited…
Sweetie mentions we went to school with her.
Wait – her who?
“She was among the Princess’s finest jewelers before the draft, crafting some of the most exquisite tiaras in Equestria.”
…Oh. That her.
I grimace slightly.
It’s been years since we’ve seen mane or tail of Diamond Tiara, and I’d be right comfortable with enjoying many more. I don’t care what nopony says – she deserved it. It was well established that Scootaloo wasn’t going to fly like most pegasi, and there ain’t no shame in that. As a matter of fact, she can soar with the best of them for a short while and hover with ease nowadays. That wasn’t enough for D.T., though.
My heart beats a little faster.
She never really apologized, neither…
I shut my eyes, take deep breaths and flex my fingers in and out of my hooves.
“Easy, now,” I whisper, “easy.”
Can’t get all worked up, now. Even if she did go too far at the Summer Harvest Parade. Scootaloo is telling the story now.
Huh. I reckon she’s come to terms, or something. Good for her, because I know I haven’t.
Diamond Tiara had tricked all three of us that day with a false act of kindness. We were beyond all that ‘blank flank’ business and such. Not really friends or nothing, but we didn’t fight much anymore. It had been more than a month since she’d got on us, so we figure she’s finally becoming decent. Or bored. I wouldn’t care, either way.
She gets this great big float that can fit the whole class and decorates it like a circus, with all of us young ‘uns playing the clowns. She’s in the act, too, so we three crusaders figure we’re in the clear. Turns out only two of us were.
Just as we’re about to go on she whispers something to Scoots that gets her all rattled. To this day she won’t tell us what it was, but we managed to calm her down some as the curtains pulled up. It hardly mattered. The whole time Tiara’s nailing Scootaloo with pies, confetti launchers and even Pinkie Pie’s party cannon on one occasion. Before long those two are the stars of the show.
Everypony’s having a grand old time, seeing as we’re clowns and such, but not Scoots. She’s after Diamond now but can’t catch her for nothing. The pink filly gracefully crosses a tightrope off of which Scootaloo quickly tumbles in her pursuit. Everypony’s in a riot by this time, but Scootaloo is steaming mad. She buzzes her wings up and tries to fly but quickly splashes into all the pie debris. Sweetie and I make to pull her away but she gallops up to the tight rope again, leaping with all her might and buzzing her wings like a hummingbird to try and make the rest of the gap. I’d never seen her try to fly so hard but it didn’t matter. She hit the floor. Hard.
I’ll never forget her face – covered in bright confetti and makeup with two clear lines of orange running from utterly helpless violet eyes down her cheeks. Every pony save two was laughing at her, and she took it to heart. The float rounded the corner and we could only run away with an utterly devastated Scootaloo on our backs. Every sob came out as a scream that day.
We eventually managed to elicit a not-apology with the help of our sisters, but as per usual we were left highly unsatisfied. Scoots got real quiet after that. Not us, not her parents– not even Rainbow Dash could get her to talk much. I reckon we should have tried harder. She desperately needed to talk to somepony, but even though we were there she never did. I’d like to think that I would have tried to stop her had she told me what she was going to do next, but to be honest I’m not entirely sure...
One more remark was all it took. Diamond just couldn't bring herself to avoid making one final jab.
Scootaloo was on her in an instant, utterly pounding her head into the grass with each ferocious swing of her forehooves. All anypony could do was watch.
I'd never seen that much blood before. Everypony was terrified.
Miss Cheerilee dashed in as fast as she could, wrestling Scoots back and suffering a wild punch to the cheek for her efforts. That's when everypony broke and began to panic. Scootaloo never once paid her no mind and just roared at Diamond's motionless form, fighting with all her might to continue her onslaught. Miss Cheerilee frantically shouted for somepony to ring the bell. Nurse Redheart was first on the scene with a host of concerned parents galloping close behind - chief among them being Filthy Rich. Even with healing potions his daughter spent three days in that hospital...
Two knocks from below the floorboards resound prior to the door swinging up.
“Hey, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo grunts as she hoists herself onto the deck. “Just one today?”
“Yeah.” I mutter without taking my eye from the glass. It’s getting hard to see as the encroaching night smothers the town in black, “Just the one. Not a single other pony.”
“Do you think that means something?” she asks while fishing in her pack for something. Probably oats. Always oats.
I slightly shake my head and bring the long rifle inside. “I hope not,” I say as I lean it upright against a stone pillar and smile, “but something’s gotta happen soon – I’m getting a mite bored.”
She frowns at that, gives a little hum as if in deep thought and then proceeds to crunch on her ration. I position myself across from her and retrieve my own dull oat dinner.
“I meant that as a joke, Scoots.”
Her eyes go to the bag in her hoof.
“How do ya feel?” I ask.
She sets the bag aside and grasps her canteen. “I’m doing okay,” she shrugs, “What about you?”
I pause for a second. Nothing particularly profound comes to mind so I plainly reply, “I’m okay, too.”
“That’s good,” she observes. She takes a quick drink, “But is that okay?”
A few silent seconds are spent in the dim light of a waning moon shining through the planking.
“We’re getting numb to it, Apple Bloom.”
I nod. “I didn’t cry this morning.”
“Me neither – or yesterday.”
“And you’re okay?”
She nods, “Yeah. You too?”
I give an affirming hum and sip from my canteen.
“So what are those ponies downstairs like?” I ask, changing the subject.
She perks up some. “Pretty awesome, considering half of them come from Canterlot. They let me and Sweetie take a look inside the tank. It’s really cramped – makes a pegasus like me nervous – but it seems really tough.”
“I heard Sweetie Belle squeak earlier.” I smile.
Scootaloo laughs, “You’re not going to believe this, but Diamond Tiara got drafted into the tank corps. She’s actually here, in the Valley!” She snickers, “Can you imagine her in a tank? Or even within a hundred miles of one?”
I genuinely chuckle at the thought of that prissy pink pony inside of tank 031. I wonder if she’s still alive. What would she think of us now?
“Say,” I ask as we settle down, “where’s Sweetie?”
Scootaloo gives a muffled sound through a mouthful of oats. She takes a gulp from her canteen and answers, “she went to find an officer. See what’s going on up north.”
As if on cue hoofsteps can be heard from below. They’re rapid in rhythm, but as they ascend the stairs I can clearly make out two hoof clops and two metallic clacks in each cycle.
“Hey, Sweetie,” I greet the white mare as she hoists herself to the deck.
Scootaloo tosses a bag of oats into her lap, but they go unnoticed. In the faint glow of the moon I can see a gleam in her light green eyes.
“It’s happening!” She says excitedly, “in two days!”
“What?” Scootaloo asks.
“Both sides.” She holds up a hoof.“At least, we think they’re going to try something. It doesn’t matter – the commander’s had it with those ponies. He wants them gone.”
“What do we do?” I ask.
“For now we stay put. When it happens we’ll move with the tank up north, keeping it safe just like always. Nightmare Five’s only a few blocks away and will be doing the same thing.”
“When do we move?” I follow up.
At this she shrugs. “The pony I talked to just told me to ‘be ready and wait for the signal.’ I guess we’ll know it when we see it?”
Scootaloo nods and leans back, sighing heavily with lidded eyes. She begins to rhythmically extend and retract her fingers with each breath.
Sweetie watches her for a moment. “So—” She turns to me. “—how are you two doing?”
Scootaloo shoots me a sidelong glance and in unison we answer, “Okay.”
As we quietly laugh Sweetie smirks and looks to me expectantly.
“We’re doing alright, Sweetie – don’t you worry any,” I reassure my friend, “We know what we have to do and will do our best to get ‘er done.”
“Isn’t that what keeps you going, too?” Scoots pipes up.
Sweetie shrugs and begins to quietly munch on her oats. Even out here she takes small bites, all polite-like.
“Sort of,” she admits, “But for the most part I just don’t think about most of it. I know that I’m doing the right thing, as horrific as it is.”
As she takes another bite I comment on something that’s been eating at me for a little while.
“So,” I tentatively mutter, “you haven’t cried?”
She stops, turns to look right through my eyes and I have my answer.
She hides the gaze well. That awful, empty look of exhaustion that sticks around no matter how much sleep we try to get. A feeling of fullness warms in my chest, however. For a minute there I wondered if Scootaloo and I were just – I don’t know – weak or something?
But she has it, too. She’s felt it.
“Trust me – I’ve cried plenty, Apple Bloom.” She turns back to her oats, “But I know that I’m doing the right thing and that’s what keeps me going."
I silently nod in understanding.
Doing the right thing. Protecting the ponies you love. Kill or be killed. In a way all three of us have the same idea, I reckon.
“Get some rest, girls. I’ll take the first watch,” Sweetie says as she returns the oats to her pack and brings forth a pair of large binoculars.
“Okay,” I settle my head into my pack. “I hear our old friend Diamond Tiara’s in town.”
Sweetie snorts. “She’s up north, apparently. Tank 031’s still in the fight. Maybe we’ll see her soon.”
“Maybe,” I agree. I shuffle to lie on my side and shut my eyes.
The feeling of fullness wraps around me like a warm blanket, lulling me to sleep far more quickly than I ought to with the threat of an assault on the horizon. The Cutie Mark Crusaders are all in the same boat now and we’re doing the right thing. No matter what happens we can draw strength from that one simple truth.
--
A tense silence has taken hold of the Shimmering Valley. Not since the day before last has a single shot echoed through the streets. Now that I think about it, it was probably me who took the last one.
Nightmare Two remains in the bell tower under a glaring noonday sun. I scratch a notch in the pillar. Day Eight.
There are many small, grey clouds slugging along the bright sky that cast dark shadows upon the town. The beams of the sun mesmerizingly dance about the frozen buildings as if the blue of the sky were actually the surface of a great ocean. The winds up there must be mighty powerful to be shifting the clouds so quickly without the aid of pegasi. Perhaps so powerful that pegasi are discouraged from flying very high at all? It would explain the absence of any aerial attacks this whole while from either side.
I take slow and quiet breaths as a sweeping breeze causes a faint, low howl to envelop the town, as if it were anxiously sighing as well. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo peer out at the landscape behind me, fully loaded and ready to go. From the street below I can just make out the idle purr of tank 032’s engines. A low roll of thunder suddenly booms from behind the southern mountains.
That’s wrong. I turn around. Scoots and Sweetie look to me. I frown and hobble past them to face south and peer through cracks in the wood paneling.
Another bout of thunder cackles across the sky far closer than the first.
That’s not right at all.
My friends join me.
“We should have heard that storm long before now,” I explain.
From the high peaks of the southern mountain range a dark blot of angry storm clouds builds, all but pulsing with multi-colored lightning.
Reds violently flash alongside deep purples and striking blues.
Green.
Yellow.
Rainbow.
“Let’s go,” I order, chambering a round in my rifle and slinging it across my back.
On all fours I turn from the planking and descend into the gloom of the bell tower’s staircase to peals of thunder so powerful they buffet the air and set dust loose.
I gasp and my hooves begin to tremble when I finally clamber out out into the bright sunlight. The storm clouds are obscured by the townhouses but the thunder shakes the ground. Tank 032 rumbles to life and a cloud of black smoke belches from the exhaust pipes. In less than a minute the serene silence has been shattered by a cacophony of thunder and machine. All throughout the town the Equestrian Tank Corps fires up, the closest units being just a few blocks to our left, west.
We step up to 032’s side and a hatch in the side of the turret swings open to reveal a blue unicorn mare with a violet mane. She’s smiling underneath a metal helmet with a hole cut for her horn.
“Be sure to watch our sides.” she shouts, “We’re sending them all packing! Pour it on, Night Mares!”
She whoops as the tank’s engines loudly roar and propel the metal monster forward. She leans out from the opening to clutch the sides of her small window. A stallion appears on the other side of the turret and another mare with a large, pointed commander’s hat rises from the top hatch. The ground is now ceaselessly pulsing as the thunderous clouds come into sight.
Sweetie and I gallop to keep up with the tank while Scootaloo hops up to ride just behind the turret, alternately watching the sky and the road ahead.
“There they go!” Scootaloo points a hoof to the sky and excitedly hollers, “We have Wonderbolts!”
I glance up at dozens of black cloud trails descending from the large mass. They soar overhead and disappear behind rooftops as distant tanks begin exchanging fire. The crew of 032 cheers and knocks hooves with one another before disappearing inside. The blue mare exchanges a bump with Scootaloo and then battens the hatches.
“Focus ahead!” Sweetie shouts.
About a quarter of a mile away our route north ends at a row of buildings and splits in two – east and westbound – and from the west a long, metal tube is rounding the corner.
Scootaloo knocks on the tank’s turret and quickly hops off the side just before it engages the brakes. The enemy tank has by now rounded the corner and a flash of yellow precedes a great BANG that resonates through the road, and somewhere to our rear the ground explodes and showers us with tiny bits of debris. With an earsplitting crash 032’s gun responds, penetrating the enemy tank and sending a bright plume of magical blue flame skyward from the turret.
The commander rises from her hatch and screams, “Burn, you mules! Burn!”
The tank once again grunts forward and we soon come to the fiery wreckage. I grimace at the charred smell. Just a short distance west is another northbound road.
“You two watch the right side. I’ll take a look,” I shout over the gunfire and thunder.
032 waits patiently as I trot to the corner and peek around the stone. The street appears to be clear. I turn and wave to the tank which promptly accelerates around the burning husk of metal and into the road. My friends quickly follow and we move together at the side of the machine. The raging black clouds move to obscure the sun, plunging us into an eerie orange twilight.
“Ponies – straight ahead!” Scootaloo suddenly shouts.
Rifles terrifyingly fire from down the road and rounds *snap* just over our heads. Ducking down low, I gallop behind the tank which absorbs the incoming barrage with numerous pings. Scootaloo and Sweetie have taken cover across the road in between two homes. The tank’s massive gun sends a shell downrange, but a quick look tells me that it won’t be enough. There must be a dozen enemy ponies in the street, all spread apart and advancing quickly.
Too quickly for 032 to handle.
The metal pads in my hind legs clamp down into the cobblestone and I rise to full height, unslinging the long rifle and leaning out with the scope to my eye. I squeeze the trigger and my mark’s head jerks before he slumps to the ground. Two more ponies fall to the efforts of Scootaloo and Sweetie. The tank fires once more and an enemy pony simply vanishes in a hail of fragmentation that clouds the street in a wall of dust.
The enemy continues to lay down fire, muzzle flashes sparking faintly behind the cloud. Yellow streaks are now clearly visible in the gloom. When the dust finally settles I find that the size of the enemy force has at least doubled, and they are galloping toward us. My gut feels weightless and I look to my friends.
“Drop them!” I shout and quickly do my part, sending a pony sliding across the ground after their chest is struck. My left hoof runs purely on instinct, chambering rounds the moment I fire without me even thinking about it.
Four.
Five.
The tank fires again but only succeeds in hitting a nearby building, sending it collapsing to the ground and barring the road with debris. An enormous cloud of dust floods through the street, effectively restricting all visibility.
“Oh, horse apples!” I clamber up the tank and bang on the turret as bullets continue to strike the hull.
The left hatch opens and the commander leans from the side with a smug look on her face despite bullets impacting the door only inches from her face
“What in tarnation do y’all think yer doing?” I scream, “We won’t see them until they’re right on us!”
“Exactly,” she shouts back with a devilish grin, “Get your friends up here – quick!”
“What?” I protest, “But—“
“Now, Night Mare!”
I give an exasperated sigh and put a hoof to my mouth, giving a high whistle over the gunfire. Sweetie and Scootaloo dart across the road and hop up to the tank, hunkering behind the turret.
From inside the commander shouts, “Hold on tight, ladies!”
The machine suddenly accelerates, violently shaking under our hooves. It fires once more before plunging into the smoke with little regard for what or who is in its way. I put a hoof to my mouth and clench my eyes to the dust, clinging desperately to a small hoofrail as the tank bounds through the debris of the structure it obliterated and probably several unlucky ponies.
We clear the dust cloud and hang a sharp right into the nearest eastbound street, treads clattering over the cobblestone. Just ahead is a left turn that will take us on the correct course.
“Are they crazy?” Sweetie shouts over the snarling engines.
“Maybe just a little!” I answer.
The tank commander, a dark green pegasus with a spiky brown mane, rises from the top hatch once again, “Begging your pardon, Night Mares, but we’re under direct orders to get you to the front as soon as possible. You can question our methods but you certainly cannot question our results!”
She puffs her chest and ducks back inside just before the tank turns left and resumes its northward route. The battle is now clearly heard – when this road ends the front begins. We quickly speed past multitudes of dead ponies wearing both Equestrian and enemy uniforms as well as blackened tank husks.
Looking up I can see distant Wonderbolts speeding through the sky in aerial duels with hostile pegasi. Streams of rainbow-colored light flash from the dark blue forms of Equestria’s air force while the enemy retaliates with bursts of yellow rifle fire. Bullet casings occasionally rain down from above with a clatter of hollow clings under a dark sky set alight by multi-colored lightning. The sun occasionally shines through pockets opened and shut by the powerful winds of the Equestrian North West.
Individual rifle discharges can be heard, now. The surrounding buildings progressively bear more scarring and, looking ahead, I find that few — if any — are left standing at all. The tank slows and the commander appears, “OK, this is your stop!”
My friends and I quickly dismount and she waves as the tank speeds off.
I sling my rifle across my back, drop to four hooves and breathe through my nose to try and calm myself. “Look sharp and stay together,” I shout, “We’re going to be alright!”
My friends nod and bounce lightly on their hooves, seemingly eager to get them dirty again.
“Let’s go!”
I turn and gallop to the front where a line of ponies are positioned amongst the rubble of toppled structures. My rear hooves heavily clack against the cobblestone and my breathing comes out in sharp gasps. A trio of low-flying Wonderbolts blur just over our heads without a sound. Just as I make to think how strange that is, the air is suddenly buffeted by a strong rush of wind and a high-pitched whistling. Dust is sent into a flurry along their path, making my eyes water.
“Yeah,” Scootaloo cheers from behind, “that’s what I’m talking about!”
I smile and continue to pound one leg after another into the pavement. My vest bounces on my back with every shaky breath I take. By now the enemy gunfire can be heard from the north, well beyond an expanse of grass separating the town from the forest. All that seems to exist is my breathing, the gunfire and the toppled buildings that I can never seem to reach.
I look to the sky and see a Wonderbolt lose control in the higher reaches of the cloud mass. There are no enemies with him but he is rather assaulted by an unseen force that tosses him every which way before finally releasing its hold. He plunges lifelessly into the forest beyond. I taste bile in the back of my throat.
I turn my attention back to the front and nearly gallop straight into the rubble. I hastily slide on all fours to a stop and let out a large gasp of air.
How long was I watching that pony fall?
I shake my head and rise to my hind legs, unslinging my rifle and clambering up the hill of rubble to hunker behind a sturdy looking wall.
“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper to myself and heavily gulp, “He’s gone.”
A few excited murmurs arise from around us.
“Hey!” Scootaloo shouts, “Knock it off and keep your heads low – where’s the C.O?”
Ponies call out down the line for the ‘L.T.’ A small grey mare leans backward. Upon seeing who called out she hurriedly slides down the mound of debris and gallops up to us. Atop her black mane is a green helmet with the words ‘Shake and Bake’ haphazardly written into the canvas.
She gives a salute, “Lieutenant Shakes, ma’am.”
Scootaloo puts a hoof to her head to return the salute, “How are we looking?”
The earth pony with three muffins for a cutie mark smiles under her helmet. “They weren’t prepared for the ‘Bolts, that’s for sure,” she answers with a distinct Manehatten accent, “Pushed ‘em back in no time. We’ve been holding here with orders not to pursue. Can’t see nothin’ in the trees, though.”
A few rifles shoot from the forest. The whole line suddenly springs to life and sends a torrent of retaliatory fire, seemingly indiscriminate as to where their rounds land. Somewhere to the east a tank fires and the shell lands with a distant boom. The Equestrians settle down and duck back behind their cover.
“We just keep them suppressed when they try any funny business. You ought to make yourselves comfy – this will be going on for a little while.”
--
“You know what I think?” My finger squeezes the trigger and a flurry of dust is kicked up around the long rifle’s muzzle as it gives an ear-ringing crack. A pony just too exposed behind his tree violently spins around with a delicate line of dark blood spiraling from the entry wound in his head. I scratch a diagonal line into the cool metal of my gun and turn back around my wall.
“I think this here forest could benefit greatly from the planting of a few apple trees.”
Scootaloo and Sweetie both snicker.
“Rarity would say it could benefit from a “dab of color,” Sweetie says in her best imitation of her sister.
“I think it could benefit even more if those ponies would take a hint,” Scootaloo adds.
Another series of snaps come from the forest.
“Really?” She leans over from her side of the wall and joins the storm of retaliation, “You haysuckers!” she screams. As if on cue a tank fires into the forest and the gunfire ebbs away.
Scootaloo sits down with a huff and inserts a fresh magazine into her weapon. “This is ridiculous,” she mutters, “The enemy’s long gone! They knew they couldn’t handle the ‘Bolts and ran hours ago – I just know it.”
The Wonderbolts’ dark storm cloud has all but dissipated by now to give way to brilliant afternoon sunshine interrupted by the occasional drifting cloud. A strong breeze sweeps through the meadow and forest beyond, rustling the manes and tails of still bodies lying in the grass. This wind is noticeably chillier than breezes prior, though. I rub my forehooves together. Scootaloo doesn’t seem to notice.
“Until the scouts come back it’s all about Equestrian suppression!” Scoots says loudly.
Ponies carry the phrase down the line until it grows faint. It’s become a little game, now.
“‘Questrian suppression,” I mutter. I drum my fingers across my gun and grunt while rolling onto my belly, bringing the rifle to bear on the dark forest.
Wonderbolts zoom about above the treetops, looking out for any stragglers whilst advance scouts fly way out to confirm the enemy’s retreat. Five yellow flashes of light come from the forest just before five shots echo through the valley.
“Gah,” Scootaloo shouts in exasperation and hollers from atop her hind legs, “Get some!”
--
I scratch a twenty sixth notch into my rifle. Dusk has befallen the valley, casting us all in a beautiful, blue gloom. The enemy has not made an attack for several hours. Birds have returned to their nests and occasionally sing out, even. Many ponies have taken this to mean that the enemy has truly retreated and relax with one another in the twilight, including Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle. I continue to sit atop the rubble and cradle my rifle, marking the lives that I took earlier today with 032.
Twenty six is the current total.
I turn my head to a sudden commotion coming from the east. I rise to a sitting position and hold my rifle at the ready. The sound isn’t one of fear or battle, however. Instead, it’s one of joy. As if the words are a carried on a wave the words “victory” and “princess” flow past me. The latter is of great intrigue. All around me, ponies cheer and revel in their success at holding the line. I spot Lieutenant Shakes galloping through the rejoicing masses toward me. I sling the rifle and slide down the debris to meet her.
“All Nightmare squads are to report to H.Q. immediately,” she quickly says. After a salute she continues down the line.
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo approach and I relay the message.
"There are rumors that a princess is here,” Sweetie says in a low voice.
I nod and lead the way through the jubilant crowd.
--
“It seems like a long time ago – the last time we were here,” Scootaloo observes.
My friends and I stand before the headquarters again with the sounds of celebration at our backs. Two large stallions stand motionless at either side of the door, this time. One is a white pegasus and the other is a bat pony with yellow eyes that nearly glow in the dwindling daylight. The emblems of Their Majesty’s Lunar and Solar Guard gleam atop respective breastplates.
As we approach their wings flare out to bar the entrance. “Halt,” the pegasus commands.
“Who goes there?” finishes the bat pony.
“Nightmare Two,” Sweetie Belle answers simply.
In the blink of an eye their wings snap back to their sides and we are allowed entry. I gently nose the door ajar and find the room to be filled with ponies. Under the yellow glow of a lantern a large map of the town and much of the forest beyond is spread atop the large table housing the trap door to the basement. A dozen other mares stand before the map. All have hind legs concealed from the knee down by a strip of cloth. Poking out from underneath the cloth are four metal pads and in either forehoof four little black bits of metal gleam.
Just like us.
The dark blue form of Princess Luna stands imposingly on the other side of the table, clad in gleaming armor. She is flanked by Princess Twilight Sparkle and Commander Star Shade. At his side is a yellow pegasus with a fiery orange mane. She wears a dark blue suit and a vest fitted with a multitude of pouches very similar to our own. A bolt of dark yellow lightning rings every hoof above worn boots. She’s seen some serious action, judging from the dust and grime in her combat suit. No doubt she, Spitfire herself, just participated in today’s assault.
Twilight looks up first, seemingly relieved to see us in one piece. The commander, the Wonderbolt and Princess Luna follow the motion albeit without the familiarity Twilight shares with her friends. I look around at the other Nightmare squads. This is the first time I’ve seen even another one, let alone all. My eyes finally settle on a familiar green and white mane. The mint-green pony’s golden eyes glance up and hold my gaze.
Very familiar…
She gives a smirk and the tiniest nod.
I grin.
That surely is Heartstrings.
Commander Shade looks utterly exhausted but maintains his composure as he speaks, “Nightmare Two,” he says aloud and looks up to Luna, “All present and accounted for, Princess.”
“Very well,” she acknowledges and slightly tilts her head at us. Does she remember visiting our dreams those years ago? “Proceed, commander.”
“The defense of the Shimmering Valley has come to a close,” he explains, “We suffered a number of casualties but none catastrophic. The Union quickly withdrew its main contingent of armored fighting vehicles earlier this afternoon in the face of overwhelming aerial superiority. The Wonderbolt display was highly demoralizing and very effective, incurring only minor losses.”
The princesses study the map for a moment.
"What of the enemy’s communication ability?” Twilight interjects.
"Her Majesty’s Night Mare squads proved to be highly effective in the performance of specialized infiltration operations. The Union’s ability to utilize their network has been upset for the time being in the area immediately west of the town. Operations were halted in the face of attempted invasion.”
Luna narrows her eyes at the map.
"And what is thy recommended course of action, Commander?” She asks.
“The enemy has certainly discovered the crippled arrays, indicating we know of their advantage. Remaining sites will be heavily fortified and movement into the forest will prove hazardous,” he puts a grey hoof to the table. “Operation Starlight will not be possible until the remaining arrays have been destroyed, however. By your word the operation will be suspended or Night Mare incursions will recommence post-haste such that the union is denied time to appropriate maximum defensive assets.”
Luna slightly bares her teeth.
“There will be no suspension.” She answers with disdain. “This union would dare attack our fair nation without even a formal declaration of war. They would needlessly shed my little ponies' blood without warning."
Her armor clicks as she stamps her hoof heavily against the wood floor. "They will receive no recess.”
She looks up from the map and sweeps her gaze over us, “You have done well, my Night Mares, but your work is not done. You will receive orders by week’s end. Dismissed.”
--
With a great fwoom a massive spiral of mystic blue flame shoots into the night sky, casting the entirety of the Shimmering Valley’s defenders in a ghostly light. We are assembled in the western meadow to pay respect to the fallen being consumed in a scentless and silent pyre. The flag of Equestria, bearing the united royal sisters as well as the cutie marks of Princesses Cadence and Twilight Sparkle, waves untouched by the flame in the middle of the pyre.
Princess Luna and Twilight back away from the flames they ignited and stand proud before the dead being carried on into the Nether. The valley becomes deathly quiet as all eyes focus intently on the dancing flames. Glowing blue ashes find their way into the night sky, seemingly joining the innumerable amount of stars already there. I catch some in my hoof and watch the blue glow slowly fade away.
Princess Twilight turns about and, although speaking in a relatively low voice, is clearly heard by all of her subjects, “These ponies fell in defense of their homes and their families. In defense of nation and livelihood. They gave their lives to defend all of you.”
She sniffs, “Nopony should have to go through this – but I and the rest of Equestria offer our sincerest gratitude. Should you fall – fall knowing that you will be remembered as heroes.”
Everypony returns their somber gaze to the flames. Princess Luna next turns about and sweeps her gaze over the army with narrowed eyes. She finally unfurls her great wings and in one flourish soars to the flame’s peak.
"HEAR ME,” she bellows in her hover, startling everypony. Even Twilight backpedals a few steps.
“YE ENEMIES OF EQUESTRIA! WE SHALL NOT FALTER NOR YIELD! THOU SHALT KNOW TERROR AND VENGEANCE WILL BE OURS!”
Everypony looks up to the princess with infallible determination, hanging on her every word, “DESPAIR, FOR WE ARE COMING WITHOUT FEAR! WITHOUT REMORSE!"
Shouts are incurred from the roused congregation. Most are on their hooves, now.
"DESPAIR, FOR OUR WRATH COMES FORTH FROM THE REALM OF NIGHTMARES!”
Everypony suddenly roars out at the forest, screaming into the darkness. The mountains reflect the shouts to carry the voice as one, echoing across the valley. I look about in awe.
We feel.
Scootaloo hovers on humming wings, shouting whilst twice beating her chest.
We love.
Sweetie Belle cries out with tears on her cheeks but fury in her eyes.
I crumble the ash in my hoof and wipe it under my eyes.
“We live,” I whisper.
End Part I
. . .
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I do not think I have ever said this about any other fiction, but this is one of those stores where it is a "Holy shit drop everything this fic has updated!"
Aaay, Featured Box! Congrats! I knew this story was going to do well. You should be very proud of what you've got here.
(Haven't read IV yet, because it's a bit late back here in the UK, so I'll get on it in the morning)
Addition: God dammit EqD! That's a shame, but hey, at least you've always got us *attempts to smile warmly, but instead sets fire to the desk*
Woah, feature box!
That was...(Horrific/ Amazingly well written)...Faved!
This is so cool
Putting on Read Later for cover pic alone.
Yay! I'm famous!
Not really
5084380 Actually a pretty good reason, considering the author did that himself.
But seriously look at his other art.
GIVE THEM HEELLL !!!!!!!!!
Another brilliant chapter!
I lay 3:1 odds DT becomes a causulty to "friendly fire." I'd advise her to watch her flank, but I'm rooting for it.
Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.
I can't wait for the next chapter of this fantastic story.
"Don' mean nuthin', Scoots..."
"Roger that, It don't mean nothing. Charlie Mike..."
Sweetie chimed in with "Charlie Mike, girls!" She sighed, her playful mockery losing out to her infinite weariness. "Yeah - Charlie Mike and drive on, girls,,,It don't mean nothing..."
Story gets a Like. I'll admit to being a bit conflicted about turning the sweetest, most carefree, and fun-loving fillies in Equestria into Marines from Fields of Fire, but if you're telling a story about what wars actually cost, you've got a good start...
5085349 No another pony nation i believe who are a bit more advance than them in some areas
I'm sorry, I absolutely have to post the following:
Heh. Lyra got her hands.
Ironically, weeks ago, I made this concept art
th09.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2014/189/c/6/hoof_prosthetic_concept_by_apple_tank-d7prt9q.png
Oorah!
HOOAH!
Although the saluting in the combat zone is a bit odd to me...Sniper bait much?
Wow! Got this old soldier worked up! The "numb" is setting in. The ability to move through the constant deluge of chaos, sleep though horrific noise, and eat when everything tastes like sand. You do your best, you do it right, and you worry about it later or not at all. (Or so you would like to think.....It comes back ...it will "get you" over time...You just have to work it out, or just sit and shake......)
5086929 Remember, their tactics are very underdeveloped. Same with the tank commander wearing a hat that shouts that she is the commander.
5087039 Fair point.
5085411
Fuck yes.
About time this made the popular stories list. Congrats.
You should post your concept art gallery link on your front page.
Just curious, but...will other races be involved? Jeezus, I would want to see a decked out Griffon -- it would be like an A-10 Warthog.
Wonderbolts: 1st Tactical Fighter Squadron -- Elite Rapid Response and Rescue Task Force Team
AIR. FUCKING. SUPPORT. HELL YEAH!
That was pretty good. Ah who the fuck am I kidding? That was amazing!
And all I can do is to smirk and think; Lyra finally got her hands.
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5084048 Oh man - thanks a lot, you guys! :)
5084953 I'm glad you like it. I'll admit it is kind of hard - I really like the CMC, too. :[
5084157 Thanks a lot! Ain't no need to get worked up, though. :)
5089188 Good idea! I'll see what I can do. :)
5084224 Hot damn! You can bet I got a screencap of that. Awesome! Wouldn't be possible without these bomb editors, though. :D
5090385 We'll see! I want the main conflict to remain pony-centric, but Equestria surely does have griffons among their population. :)
5090790 I agree - it does depend on what kind of person you are, for sure. Some folks can lock it up real nice and continue their merry way while others might puke on the spot. I don't think we should get the wrong idea in starting to think that one is necessarily 'better' or 'stronger' than the other, however. If someone doesn't show remorse does that make them some kind of badass or some kind of monster? That's some deep stuff and it all depends on who you ask and what you ask them. It might be a little too deep for me, seeing as I'm writing a crazy story about magical talking horses blowing each other to pieces and all.
(Most) Everyone would pull the trigger when someone is actively trying to kill them, sure, but I believe that there are still repercussions even if we don't see them. But then, what do I know but what I've read in books and watched on TV? I would do anything to protect the people I love but I'm about certain that I would weep for it nonetheless at some point. I'm sorry for what you've had to do, necessary as it was. You're still here, right? :)
These are ponies, though. Every one of us has thought about what it would be like and under what circumstances we would kill someone else, but the Crusaders grew up in a pretty darn harmonious world. Killing isn't as ingrained in them as it is in us, so its got to be nasty for them. I just hope that the sense of duty wins out, though.
And fear not! All will be revealed in time. This is all in the perspective of AB, so she doesn't really have a handle on the big picture. But lo, from yonder Canterlot the princesses doth arrive! They'll surely be able to give some explanations. ;)
And the S4 finale did feature ridiculously cool magical death rays that could wipe out small countries with a single blast... but then there wouldn't be much of a story here, lol. It just screams 'deus ex machina' to me, that's all.
EDIT: And silly me - I didn't even thank you for reading! Thanks a ton, pal. I really appreciate it.
5091195 "With great power comes great responsibility."
and in Lyra's case, cuteness
5090766 Hey, you mind sharing why? I know that was your opinion on the first chapter, but it's interesting.
Damn, there are few stories that capture military action and battle sequences so well, and that doesn't even include the emotional impact.
This reads like a memoire of soldiers during the World Wars. Hauntingly brilliant.
5084679
5 bits says AB squares DT in the face
This has to be one of the best Fim fiction I've ever read, and will keep reading till the end. Keep the good work
When it was nearing the end, you really had my feels then, and made my hair stand up from the charisma of it all. I love it.
5092091 Thanks a lot, I'm glad you're liking it. :)
5092220 You got it, pal. :D
5092841 Mission accomplished. :) Thanks, bud.
5094794 Ah, the traditional firearms are designed to be fired with hooves, so they got a big ol' "trigger" as opposed to what the Crusaders get. Thanks for giving it a go! :)
Im wondering, do the Equestrian tanks have muzzle breaks? You know, thise things on the end of most ww2 tank barrels? And if they dont, do the enemy?
5109767 Does it matter? In WW2, there are tank with and without a brake. Notably for the without, the T-34 tank.
5112149
Just wondering, it changes the recoil of the gun, also it might look better. I've been with this story since the prologue, so it would be nice to know what their biggest weapon just under the Nigh Mares looks like.
5112184 Alright. I was just wondering. It's just that the brake would be something I wouldn't consider. Actually, reading through it, I was confused about the actual design of the tank itself. It felt like they had some relation with the tanks of WW1. Maybe not, and I just can't analyze text.
5112350
Actually from what NCMares told me, the equestrian tank he thought of where based on the Panzer tanks, not the panthers or tigers, so im wondering if its like the Panzer lll's long 50 without the brake or the Panzer lV's long 76 with the brake.
5112382 Huh. Dang... That's not good. You see, there are some things in the story that I just assumed that NCMs was using a WW1 tank. Instances where side doors open and stuff, where it would probably be better suited to write hatches.
5112510
Ah but ya see, those "hatches" on the side of the tanks turret on the Panzer lll and lV acted like doors (as seen here http://www.missing-lynx.com/gallery/german/images/panzerivesp_2.jpg ), swinging out to be used as cover, so I could see where he was going with that.
Also the tanks of WW1 didn't even have turrets (And don't make a remark about the renault FT, that thing had the armor of a car...
), nowadays, those would be classified as a pour excuse for an assault gun.
I'm sorry to be crude but holy fuck that last part gave me goose bumps like seriously great inspirational moment man
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5109767 That... is an excellent question! I don't really have a definitive answer, but I got to sketching and came up with this possible concept. What do you think? I'm not a die-hard tank buff, but it's something. :P
5123219
I can see where your going with that, but I feel it looks to modern for the rifles their using. The body design could be lowered a bit, and the crew casing could be extended toward the back for realism purposes, if it anything like a panzer tank, it will snap in half. The turret design is fine, but the roof is also much to modern, and completely impossible. The gun would be to heavy and tip the tank over, so a longer turret would counteract that, also a flat roof would be more realistic, sloped turrets like that came around the 1960's +. It all depends on the era sunset shimmer's information came from.
EDIT: What's the armor like on the tank? Im trying to stick to the fact this design came from Sunset.
P.S. Not trying to be a history buff, just spent a lot of time around tanks in my life. Whatever you want to do is good in my books.
Oh my gosh, this was so good! An artist I rather like did some lovely fanart of Apple Bloom from this story and that led me here and I'm so glad I read your story! The art got me interested, the summary had me hooked, and the story itself delivered beautifully. I'm definitely a fan of your writing style: It's so descriptively beautiful, but leaves just enough vagueness to keep the imagination busy playing out the scenes.
I was a bit worried at first when it shifted into first person after the prologue, but I've come to love that decision. It's quite interesting seeing things from Apple Bloom's point of view, especially because of how now, other character's thoughts and feelings must be shown rather than told. It's all so interesting; the characters, the setting, your writing style, the Night Mare's alterations, I love it! ...Maybe it also helps that the story is focusing on my three favorite ponies, too. I adore well written and interesting CMC stories.
But yeaaah, I'll definitely be looking forward to part two. You're very talented both in writing and art, and I think this can truly be something great if you keep going with it!
5123269 This is why we can't have nice things.
lol, I'm just messing. Although to be quite honest I think it's all best left to your imaginations. In my mind they're rolling in something that looks like a panzer IV. Not necessarily the same armor rating/gun caliber and such, but aesthetic-wise. This is because I really like pz. IVs. :3 I want to avoid getting particularly technical where I can. In general, what Applebloom knows is what we know. I'm sorry if I seem like a killjoy! 
5124365 Well thank you very much! I certainly have a roadmap from beginning to end - stay tuned. :)
5118475 Nah, you're too kind. :) Thanks a lot for reading, mate.
5121815 Mission accomplished! :D
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Thats ok, I am a bit nit-picky on tank details and such, but the more I look at your designs the more it reminds me of the early panzer panther prototypes, the lV/V. And it clicked that the engice in the back counter acts the- blah blah blah whatever, it works- the design is awesome and I cant wait to see it in a picture.
P.S. It still might spit in two though...
You ROCK. This is my favourite fic, right by side of FoE. Thanks for this fine piece of art. I'm shure that one day you'll be famous as a writer, if you would want it.
Very well written again! The fight situations are as realistic as ever!
And the scene at the end, when Luna shouts to the enemy, sent shivers down my spine!
I also liked the description of their realization that they slowly get more and more cold out of getting used to the war situation and the killing, with talking about it that they don't cry anymore.
But there are some things that I don't understand this time:
The first one; at the beginning, the chapter speaks about that the north of the town they're in fell under control of the enemy, despite that they won the fight in the last chapter.
The second one; when Applebloom awakes, she says that it's late morning, but moments later she already speaks about the (early) sunset.
Just a guess, has Celestia set the sun early, to give the enemy a disadvantage in the upcoming battle?
And the third one; why does Applebloom make markings on her weapons of how many enemies she has killed?
That gives the impression that she enjoys the killing, despite that she sees the killing just as necessary evil to protect herself, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle.
And I'm wondering about the "End Part 1" line at the end, since you already separate the story into chapters.
What's the meaning behind that?
I could also find a typo that survived the proof-reading:
So, Equestria has done quite some damage to the enemy, but there are still radios left and they are better guarded now.
Seems the events sharpen now. I hope this goes well for our best soldiers.....
It will be interesting to see Diamond Tiara. Can hardly imagine her in a war. xD
And I wouldn't be surprised if she would be already dead, she's not capable enough of handling a war situation, considered that she even needs her butler to do the things for her that she can't do in order to build herself up.
I'm looking forward to see how this goes on and can't wait for the next chapter already!
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One can hope.
5091373
Not at all.
Deep themes go very well with My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, the show has proven that countless times.
And you're good in writing it deep and you managed it great to describe that conflict of every soldier, between seeing himself as a monster and as someone who just defends his life.
Not so modest, you're doing great!