V
Night Mares
Part II. Witching Hour
V.
August
Year 6 of the Harmonic Age
“Roll it out!”
The soggy earth rumbles as another armored column sloshes forward out of the town and into the forest. Dozens of ponies crowd atop the machines while others must force their way through the sludge. I sit with Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle outside of a large tent, watching the preparations for the coming Equestrian offensive continue through the rain. Distant southern engagements are barely heard through the sound of the light shower. Nightmares One and Four are down there, somewhere.
For nearly twenty-four hours, a downpour has relentlessly drenched the valley, but still ponies trot about, outfitting themselves and their vehicles with fresh supplies and ammunition. Turns out sandbags, which are useful in deterring water during floods, are also very effective at stopping bullets. Many tank crews have opted to pack their front armor in a layer of them as a result. A large basket sits behind each turret packed with supplies, water, and food.
Probably oats.
Always oats.
“How much longer do you think they’ll be?” Sweetie murmurs behind a feed bag.
Nightmare Five had disappeared into the tent an hour ago and Two’s next in line.
I idly twist the long blade of grass that I’ve been chewing on with my tongue, setting it in place to answer, “Can’t be long now.”
“That’s what you said last time,” she sighs.
“An’ the time before that, if ya reckon back,” I remind her and shrug. “Ah’m telling the truth every time.”
She murmurs something along the lines of “not even a real answer” and lies back against various supply boxes sitting with us. At least we have a tarp to keep the rain out, although it looks to be finally letting up anyhow. Amidst the various shouts of ponies and the patter of rain, Scootaloo lets out a particularly loud snore. I smile and reach into my backpack, withdrawing a perfect red apple. I marvel at how beautiful the fruit is against the gloom. Packed in with the supplies that the princesses brought with them was a shipment of crop from Sweet Apple Acres. No doubt Granny and Big Mac had brought in a few hired hooves to help tend the farm.
I grip the apple a little tighter.
I hope Mac’s doing OK. The bullet had struck his chest: it barely missed his heart but it messed his leg up something fierce. He hadn’t been able to stand when we said goodbye, but if anypony can walk away from a wound like that then it’s my big brother.
I hold the apple to my forehead and shut my eyes for a moment, thinking of home before taking a bite. I all but shudder as I relish the delicious flavor.
Just as crisp as the last thirteen.
I open my eyes and sigh, feeling mighty satisfied if a little homesick. A sound from behind prompts me to turn about.
A light pink pony holds the tent flap open and only says, “Two.”
I sling my rifle and stuff the fruit into my mouth. Sweetie Belle jabs Scootaloo with her elbow, waking her with a start.
“Muppl bloom did it!” She slurs under droopy purple eyes.
She blinks the sleep away and wipes a line of drool from the corner of her mouth as Sweetie and I chuckle. She rolls her eyes and follows us into a tent brightly lit by small luminescent magical auras. Nine ponies in white coats are busy at various tables with a variety of instruments, but Princess Twilight Sparkle stands before us with her mane done up in a bun and white sleeves rolled to her elbows.
“Come on in, girls.” She beckons us with a smile and turns about.
We follow her to three of the most beautiful things I’d ever laid eyes on – gleaming porcelain tubs filled to the brim with bubbles.
“Go ahead and get cleaned up. I’ll be right here, if you don’t mind. I’d like to run through some questions with you three.”
“Uh huh,” I mutter as I hastily remove all of my gear, eyes locked on the tub. “Whatever you say, Twi.”
Sweetie Belle beats me to the punch, but I share her reaction as I slide into my bath. I let out a long, quiet breath and shut my eyes to savor the silky feeling of the warm water which seems to instantly send me into a relaxed bliss. Scootaloo, on the other hoof, loudly groans before disappearing under the bubbles. When she reappears Twilight slides a curtain around us, silencing the scientists just outside.
“Congratulations on your cutie mark, Scootaloo,” Twilight smiles. “I always told you three that they would come eventually. Just give it a little more time,” Twilight says, pointedly staring at Sweetie and me.
I glance to Sweetie’s green eyes just visible over the tub and smirk. I reckon we really don’t mind all that much nowadays, anyway. The three of us had more or less accepted that they wouldn’t come considering all the stuff we’d tried growing up.
“First and foremost,” Twilight withdraws a clipboard from under her wing, “how do you three feel?”
She looks up with a slightly anxious smile, as if afraid of what she might hear. I purse my lips and look to Sweetie on my right and then to Scoots on my left. They look to be doing OK, all things considered, and if they’re OK then so am I.
I turn back to Twilight. “Ah’m alright, Princess. Sometimes it gets hard, but Ah’m doing fine.”
Our friend maintains her gaze on me for a moment before turning to Sweetie Belle. The white mare pokes at a cluster of bubbles. “I feel good, too.”
Scootaloo only nods with a small smile.
Twilight softly smiles back and clicks a pen, scribbling at the clipboard. If we gave a concerning answer, she doesn’t betray it in her face. Her lack of expression, however, is just as troubling. I bet she’s practiced hiding her emotions, being a princess and all. Suppose we did give a bad answer, though? What would she do then?
She finally sets the pen down and looks back up. “Do you consider yourselves to be an effective team?”
We nod vigorously.
“Good!” She chirps and once again scratches a few notes.
She asks if we’ve sustained any particularly serious injuries, if the implants have given us any trouble, as well as other simple questions mostly pertaining to our well-being. Seems to me she’s growing more anxious with each one, though.
By now we’re about all clean, but the same cannot be said of the water. As it begins to border on lukewarm Twilight holds up a hoof and softly sighs, shutting her eyes.
“Just one more question.” Her ears droop and she looks to me. I press my back against the smooth glass under her pressing gaze.
“Describe your first kill.”
I blink.
My… first?
I look down into the swirling mess of rust-colored water. That’s not what a bath looks like after a simple romp in the mud. I clench my eyes shut.
Twenty-six cracks of the Long Rifle echo into the Nether, each bringing to my mind’s eye with remarkable clarity its victim’s final moments. Each and every one, I remember. Each and every one marked on my rifle. It’s as if I’m rewinding time, erasing every notch.
“He had his back to me.” I finally say aloud. I meet Twilight’s gaze and it’s her turn to flinch – if only by barely moving her purple irises.
“Sweetie and Scootaloo were waiting for my go,” I explain. “I lined up the crosshairs, squeezed the trigger and dropped him. Easy as apple pie.”
Twilight breaks the stare and writes into her clipboard.
“Sweetie Belle.” she mutters with the smallest of cracks in her voice.
She doesn’t look up as Sweetie relays the events immediately following my first kill. She’s more detailed, however. I left out the little blood trail for our friend’s sake, but Sweetie Belle coolly tells her that the wall erupted in a splash of red when the pony’s head smashed into it.
Twilight silently writes.
“Scootaloo?” She whispers.
I look sidelong to the pegasus.
She only shrugs. “I was hiding in the grass with Sweetie from a patrol. We were sure that she would see us, but if she did Apple Bloom would have nailed her. She ended up turning around and walking away. That’s when I got up and brought out my knife.”
She holds up her hooves to give a visual. “I put one hoof over her mouth and stabbed her right in the neck. We went to the ground, but she was making a lot of loud gurgling noises and moving around too much.”
She clicks her digits out and grips an imaginary pony. Twilight looks to be shivering and her ears are flat against her skull. Scoots don’t seem to notice.
“She was going to alert the other ponies inside the building. So I used my fingers to get a good grip and then I gave a good, hard twis–”
Twilight suddenly gasps and puts her hoof to her mouth, eyes clenched. She heaves and takes long, shuddering breaths. I rise and grasp a nearby towel, running it over my fur just enough to embrace the alicorn without soaking her.
“Easy, Twi,” I softly whisper. “Easy.”
She looks to my legs and shakes her head.
“What have I done?” she whispers. My friends climb out of their baths. “What did I do to you?”
“Hey, hey,” Sweetie kneels at her side. “You gave us a chance. A chance to stay together.”
“To survive,” Scootaloo hangs her head and sighs. “I’m sorry, Twilight.”
“Listen – we don’t hold nothin’ against you, Twi,” I reassure her. “Why, if it weren’t for you, me and Scoots would’ve been drafted anyhow and sent Celestia-knows-where. Sweetie wouldn’t have been much farther behind, neither.”
“We ought to thank you, if anything,” Scootaloo offers.
I put a hoof to her chin and grin. She wipes her eyes and sighs, eventually smiling softly back.
“See? We’re doin’ just fine,” I gently pat her back. “I know – why don’t you tell us about home?”
--
“I had Pinkie Pie declared unfit for combat the moment I heard she got drafted.”
Scoots, Sweetie and I sit on our haunches atop a large table before all nine of Twilight’s scientists. Three per mare.
“It couldn’t be an outright executive order, but I strongly recommended that she be run through the tests. Needless to say, she failed with flying colors.”
That’s a relief. I feel a might awful for thinking it, but I reckon she’d last all of two minutes out here. Tiara’s still alive, but if her crew’s even half of what my friends are then it’s no wonder. One of the science ponies uses a knife to cut through the thick fabric at my knee. When it falls to the floor a blue glow shines brightly from the metalwork that is my hind leg. I gently flex my metal “toes” in and out as the ponies go to work at the contraption with a multitude of tools.
“So, she just went home?” Scootaloo asks. The ponies cut the fabric at her legs and a purple light joins my blue. Sweetie’s adds a light green to the mix.
“Well, no. She’s not really insane, she’s just—” Twilight pauses and shrugs. “You know – just Pinkie. So, being an able-bodied mare, she couldn’t be outright sent back. She tours around Equestria as part of a ‘morale squad.’ If it comes to it, however, she’ll be called to the line. Fluttershy volunteered for the field hospitals but has yet to be selected.”
Twilight’s gaze wanders to the floor for a moment. She next nods to Sweetie and Scoots.
“Erm – Rarity is doing well in Ponyville, Sweetie, and I have letters from all of your families when we’re done here. I’ll also take back any letters you girls want to write.”
Various clicks are made as the scientists continue their work. They even outright remove one of my limbs for inspection before reattaching it.
“Clear,” one of the ponies at my hooves calls out, rising to his full height.
The ponies at my friend’s hooves respond in kind.
Twilight nods. “Thank you. This way, please.”
She leads us to a long table at the back of the tent where a blanket conceals multiple items. The princess upturns some of the cloth and suspends a sleek, long rifle in her magical aura.
“The Equestrian Long Rifle Mk.2 – specially modified.” She explains. “It uses the same size cartridge but will be more stable at longer ranges on account of its tightened barrel. Note the deployable stand for such shots, as well as an adjustable cheek-rest on the butt. The scope also has small covers to keep the glass safe and is more powerful.”
I take the gun in my hooves. It’s been painted a deep, matte green, bordering on black. The bolt and slide are polished to a beautiful copper sheen. While my previous gun looked to be rather simple, the same cannot be said of the Mk. 2 on account of its fine details and subtle indents. It even has small slots in the side of the stock to hold extra rounds.
Nice touch.
Beautiful weapon.
“These,” Twilight holds two more guns up to Sweetie and Scootaloo, “are the Mk. 4 Standard Infantry Rifles, also specially modified for your hooves. They possess the ability to fire in rapid succession – as fast as you can pull the trigger, if need be. Use that sparingly, though – ammunition goes fast.”
My friends inspect the rifles, fiddling with the mechanisms and peering down the sights.
“You’ll also get a pair of scopes,” Twilight adds, “depending on the situation, you can attach or detach them easily.”
She lifts the rest of the cover back to reveal three brand new vests. They probably won’t stop a bullet, but they will hold all kinds of pouches. Also included are shirts as well as gloves and a pair of pants that cover our flanks down to the knee, meeting the metalwork. About time – the nights are starting to get nippy.
“Is there anything new with who we’re killing, Twilight?” Scootaloo asks while slipping a pair of dark gloves over her hooves. There are no holes for her fingers, but that is easily remedied when she suddenly extends them.
“We’ve taken to calling them the Union, on account of insignia recovered from the dead.” Twilight explains. “All three pony species represented as one. There really isn’t anything beyond that, although unicorn corpses seem to be in short supply compared to earth ponies and pegasi. I theorize that they are the leadership.”
“Very mysterious,” Sweetie muses.
She wraps her forehooves in a long strip of khaki cloth and punches four holes in either hoof just like Scootaloo. I slip a green shirt over my head and roll the sleeves up to my elbows.
“Don’t matter none – we’re going to beat the hay out of them.”
Twilight sighs. “Just be careful, Apple Bloom. Stay on your guard. They didn’t hit as hard here as they did farther south. There’s no telling what’s in that forest.”
I clip on my vest.
“Pack light.” Sweetie Belle advises.
I opt for three large pockets on my chest. Two magazines ought to fit in each. I roll my shoulders and adjust individual straps to get a snug fit.
“What’s all that?” Scootaloo asks.
I look up to a large batch of grass being held in Twilight’s magic. She drops the pile and withdraws a strip of the stuff.
“This is camouflage wrap. It’s itchy, but it’ll help keep you hidden. You can join it together like a big blanket or rip it into small sections without damaging it.”
Sweetie grabs a small hoofful and toys with it for a moment. She gives a satisfied smile and joins it with some more to conceal her whole back.
“What do you think?” She asks, flipping some over her head to create a hood. She crouches with her back to us and instantly becomes a bush.
I laugh aloud and quickly put a hoof to my mouth. “Not too shabby, Sweetie. Ah bet Rainbow Dash’ll have a hoot with this stuff on Nightmare Night.”
She giggles and stands back up, flipping the hood back. I grasp some for myself and quickly see what the princess meant by ‘itchy.’ I hold it to the back of my neck and promptly pull it away. This stuff is awful! Instead of concealing myself I choose to put the wrap around the barrel of my weapon and atop the scope. I can’t be scratching myself when trying to take a shot, after all. Scootaloo packs some wrap in her backpack and I do the same. I don’t know how Sweetie can stand having it on even this long, but when I need it I’ll have it. When we’re all set in our gear the scientist ponies cover our hind legs in new cloth wraps that completely blot out the magical light.
“Very good,” the princess says. “Just come on this way to write—”
“Your Highness!” Two Celestial pegasus guards burst into the tent, “You must come with us immediately, by the order of Princess Luna!”
Twilight quickly composes herself and motions for us to follow. As we trot out into the rain she asks what’s happened.
“The first of the liberating parties has come across Quarry, Princess. They requested both Your Highness’ immediate presence. We have an armored convoy ready for departure.”
We are quickly led to a line of five idle tanks. A steady stream of white smoke flows from the exhaust pipes.
“These Night Mares will accompany us,” Twilight announces over the engines as she removes her lab coat.
“As you wish, Your Majesty.” One of the guards gives her a combat vest and helps her to the hatch.
She disappears inside and we clamber up behind the turret. The guard bangs twice on the lead tank’s hull and takes to the sky. A pony rises from the hatch and plays a shrill tune through a trumpet. The tanks speed into the forest as fast as the muddy trail will allow.
I stand and reach into the supply basket attached to the tank’s turret, withdrawing boxes of bullets to fill our magazines. Sweetie mouths ‘thank you,’ under the roar of the engines and I nod, settling back down and priming my weapon. I put two fingers to my eyes and motion to the surrounding trees. Sweetie and Scoots turnabout and watch the forest carefully. I doubt anypony’s out there, but better safe than sorry.
I reckon back to the map in Commander Star Shade’s headquarters. The town of Quarry is only a short distance away from the site where Scoots got her cutie mark and will be the first town to be reclaimed. Shimmering Valley was the last place to be evacuated – everypony in the dozens of towns from here to the coast is trapped behind enemy lines. I swallow the lump in my throat and focus on the trees rushing past under the misty grey sky.
I hope they’ve been treated well.
--
I smell it before the town is even visible through the rolling fog. Sweetie and Scoots look to one another and then to me, concerned. I purse my lips and sharply inhale. It’s a heavy smell – one that hangs palpable in my nostrils. The same smell of the Valley on the fourth day and the pyre on the eighth.
The rain’s let up to a fine mist and we rumble past a rock wall into the town proper, tank treads now clacking atop cobblestone. The procession slows to a halt amidst homes with walls of stone and sloped shingle roofs. The town is very small compared even to Ponyville and is arranged much like the Valley with homes packed tightly along wide streets. More than a few have gaping holes in them or have outright collapsed in the fight to reclaim the town. From the lead tank Princess Luna emerges and is immediately flanked by four of the Lunar Guard. I fall to the cobblestone on my hind legs with a loud clack. Several enemy machines quietly burn down the road whilst Equestrian ponies trot about in the reclaimed hamlet.
“We make for the town hall.” A unicorn of the Solar Guard helps Twilight to the ground and nods to a tall, circular structure reminiscent of Ponyville’s town hall.
Half of the hall’s spire has been destroyed, however, and the other smoldering half looks ready to buckle at any moment.
“Got it. Let’s get up,” I order, approaching a two-story home.
I roll my neck and grip the body of my gun tightly, using my free fore-hoof to latch onto the stone bricks. My toes sharply scrape against the blocks as I quickly clamber up the side with my friends following close behind. I glance down at an awestruck Twilight and smile inwardly before vaulting over the edge and clicking atop a shingled roof. The scent is stronger up here, overtaking the rain’s cleansing effect with ease.
Scootaloo scrunches her muzzle and shakes her head. “It shouldn’t be this strong.”
My eyes shift about as I lead the way atop the rooftops just ahead of the trotting royal entourage. The scent grows worse with each step along with a plunging weight in my stomach.
“The battle wasn’t nearly large enough,” Sweetie affirms.
We finally stop next to the hall and I put a hoof to my muzzle, trying to block the stench. Sweetie’s eyes go wide.
“Where are the refugees?” she quietly asks.
I suddenly run short of breath. My eyes dart about the ruined building.
They couldn’t.
My world begins to spin.
They couldn’t have.
I blink and suddenly stand with the princesses before the entrance to town hall. When did I climb down?
Wait.
The scent. It’s here. It’s powerful. It’s just past those doors.
Two ponies are talking. An officer-pony stands between Princess Luna and the entrance, refusing her access. Twilight is shaking. Her ears are flat against her head and her eyes are locked on the doors. Luna is shouting, now.
There won’t be any refugees from Quarry.
“They couldn’t have,” I moan. I want to look away, but the scent holds me still with eyes fixed ahead.
The princess shoves the officer aside and flings the doors wide open.
--
CRASH
I gently stroke Twilight Sparkle’s mane as she quietly sobs into my vest. Another block of masonry is taken up in a white glow and flung into an abandoned home.
CRASH
I want to cry with her, but my tears won’t come. They never came. To my relief – or maybe horror – neither Scootaloo nor Sweetie Belle have shed a tear, either. They stare with me at the ashes of the hall with that awful blank look. I turn my head to a particularly loud smash that sets the ground aquiver.
“Ah wonder why she don’t just join us in the Muck – being so angry and such?” I mutter.
Twilight flinches at the next crash and stirs, wiping her eyes and deeply sniffing.
“Between her and her sister, Ah bet they could wipe out everypony in a few minutes.” I shake my head. “Why don’t they just do that?”
“Because,” Twilight sits up and swallows hard, “they’re vulnerable. Even Princess Celestia could only stop so many bullets with her shield spell. They’re so small and move so fast that I could barely stop three in a row.”
She hangs her head. “The alicorns are powerful, but we’re by no means all-powerful. Ponies like to think of us as some kind of transcendent deities, but at the end of the day we’re all just ponies.”
“Except you live for thousands of years,” Sweetie mutters, “And can harness the power of the sun and moon…”
“To an extent,” Twilight retorts. “Celestia guides the sun, but she cannot outright focus its energy into some kind of death-ray.”
I sigh at that. Why the hay not? It sure would make things easier. Even after seeing what was in that building the mighty princesses are near helpless to do anything themselves.
CRASH.
I reckon that must be a might frustrating.
Twilight continues to sit before the smoldering ruin amidst the smell of charred flesh and death. Luna eventually stops destroying what’s left of the town, letting silence envelope it. Twilight sighs and rises to her hooves.
“You’ll get them,” she says quietly. “You’ll make them pay for this.”
“Yeah,” I get up to all fours. “Yeah, Twi. We will.”
Still looking at the ashes, she chillingly smiles.
She likes the sound of that. I do, too.
She turns about and nods to her guard. The stallions immediately surround her, stoic as ever. Luna and her guard appear over a rooftop and alight upon the cobblestone before us.
“Operation Starlight is to be executed,” she seethes under narrowed eyes. “Now.”
“Princess—” The guards adjust to form a protective circle as Twilight faces her. “—I know you’re angry, but we can’t rush—”
“Angry?” Luna exclaims. “No, dear Twilight Sparkle.”
She proceeds to march down the street, head low.
“The time for anger is long behind Us. Anger is what We felt when this Union would trespass upon our fair lands and needlessly shed blood. We have the opportunity and the means with which to strike and it shall be done.”
She looks back and her face softens. “They will be avenged, Twilight.”
She nods. “I understand, but –” She stops and her ears swivel about.
My friend’s ears flick with mine. Multiple very faint booms come from the west and then silence once again overtakes the town. We sit absolutely still, no one daring to move or hardly breathe as a cool breeze softly brushes our manes. A faint whistle soars through the sky and is getting louder. Everypony slowly inches back as the whistles become loud, low-pitched shrieks.
“Incoming!” A pony down the road shouts.
The shrieks grow into an earsplitting wail, driving me down low. Up ahead a gigantic plume of debris and earth is thrown high into the air and we are rocked by an enormous blast. I land hard on my back and roll to my belly, opening my mouth wide as I rub my throbbing head and my ears ring.
The ground again ferociously jolts and I empty my stomach at the shock. The world becomes a hazy orange blur as dirt pelts my head and I lose sight of everypony. I try to stand but am again forced to the ground, helpless as the town bears the force of another blast. I bare my teeth and force my legs to go rigid, rising up to a dizzying mess of dust, debris and shockwaves. With forehooves outstretched I wade through the dust toward a dark figure on the ground.
I shout for Twilight and nearly flop atop her. Twilight Sparkle cowers behind her forehooves, immobile under the barrage. I stumble under another impact and pull the alicorn across my shoulders, shouting under a rain of debris to stand atop my hind legs. I turn about to what I hope is the forest and stomp into the cobblestone as the entire world is blasted into oblivion around me. I huff and wheeze and the edges of my vision go dark.
A pony – two ponies – are at my sides.
They run upright just like me.
One has an unconscious Princess Luna draped across her shoulders.
I’m suddenly on ground, not moving.
I need to move.
Everything is shaking and booming.
Everything hurts.
Now I’m sliding on my rump, still cradling Twilight.
Where are we going?
I lost my bow.
I blink and find myself atop a tank.
Scoots hoists Sweetie up by her hoof and we’re on our way.
I lie back with Twilight shuddering in my hooves. She’s looking around now and keeps opening and closing her mouth, like a fish out of water.
She looks mighty silly doing that. Pretty unbecoming of a princess, I’d say.
I look to Scoots and Sweetie. Both they and the princess are coated in a layer of dirt, and I think Sweetie dropped her weapon at some point.
She just got that, too. What a shame.
I breathe slowly.
In and out.
Nice and easy.
Like that Sapphire Shores record I lent you years back. I know it’s in your house, Sweetie.
I look up to the familiar buildings of the Shimmering Valley. The convoy stops and a flurry of ponies rush to take the princesses away.
Where are they going?
My hooves go limp and I slide to the ground, planting my face into the stone.
Heh. I bet that hurt something fierce.
I stumble to a wall and sit on my rump, shakily taking an apple from my backpack.
Yum. Apples.
Heh, like my name.
As I go to take a bite an orange hoof stops me. I slowly look up to Scoots.
She’s looking at me funny.
I feel funny.
My face is wet and warm.
Blankets are warm.
Where’s my gear?
Pillows are soft.
Pillows feel nice.
I reckon it’s about bedtime, then.
Everything is still shaking and booming.
.
.
.
I gasp and roll to land hard on my side. I wheeze from the sudden loss of air but ignore the pain and shuffle under the cot, waiting for the impact.
There’s no impact.
There’s no wail of incoming fire.
Everything is still shaking and booming, though.
I can hear it, I can—
The booming is in time with the beating of my heart. I lift my ears from the side of my head and the booming stops.
I still feel the shaking, though. I can—
I let out a breath and relax my aching muscles.
Gradually, the shaking stops too.
I let out a pained breath and rub my side, whimpering.
I slowly crawl out from under the cot, rising to all fours. A sliver of bright, amber sunlight runs from the top of the tent to the ground, and I can hear talking outside. I don’t have anything on except for the familiar cloth draped over my hind legs, and my muzzle is very sore and tender. I step outside into a forest bathed in the golden rays of a morning sun. Tanks and tents are on all sides.
Starlight’s in effect, after all. I listen closely to distant conflicts, picking out the wailing earth-pounders and shuddering at the sound. I jump at a loud snore just to my left. Scootaloo sleeps with her head atop a bag and her forelegs crossed over her weapon. I shake my head and smile.
“Hey,” I put a hoof on her shoulder. “Scoots.”
She scrunches her face and a purple eye barely opens, “Apple Bloom.” She sits up and gives a long stretch. “We’ve been waiting on you.”
“For how long?”
“Maybe twelve hours,” she mutters and takes a drink from her canteen. “I dunno. Here’s your stuff.”
She slides the bag toward me.
I open it up and get dressed. “Twelve hours ain’t that long, Scootaloo.”
She huffs. “All the other squads are already out in the Muck, getting payback. The news is out – everypony in Equestria’s going to know what happened in Quarry soon.”
I go to tie up my mane but remember that I lost my bow in that town. Haysuckers made me lose my bow! I give an annoyed snort and let my mane hang loose.
“Twilight’s got your gun,” Scootaloo says as she gets up and gives me a feed bag.
I grimace at the thing but reluctantly clip the strap around my head. Food’s food, after all. I follow Scootaloo through the camp. Everything looks real temporary, but sticking to one spot now would be suicide with those earth-pounders flying around. I munch along and we soon come to another tent. Twilight stands at the entrance with Sweetie, both looking mighty serious.
I gulp and remove the bag from my muzzle, looking at Sweetie and then to Twilight.
“We have one,” Twilight says quietly.
“One what?”
“Them,” she mutters. “We have one. He knows Equestrian, but it’s broken.”
Scootaloo looks quickly from Twilight and the tent flap.
“In there?” She asks in seeming disbelief.
Sweetie nods.
“You have a bad guy in there?”
She nods again.
“What are you going to do – you’re gonna interrogate him?”
Once more, Sweetie nods. Scootaloo’s legs suddenly whine as she rises to her full height.
“Wait,” Twilight moves to block her. “Scoota—” Scoots walks right through her, throwing the flap open and stomping inside.
I dash after her and see the prisoner – a green unicorn bound to a chair and looking in fear at the pony hulking toward him on her hind legs. A Celestial Guard moves to confront Scoots who she shoves away with a shout, grabbing the captured unicorn with fully extended fingers curling about his screaming head.
“You tell me why!” she commands, “Tell me why we’re here – why everypony’s dead! Why!?”
The pony only looks around wildly with tiny pinpricks for eyes, crying out in terror and pain as beads of blood trickle down from his mane and over his light green face.
“Enough!” Twilight shouts and magically forces Scootaloo off of him, holding her body fast. She bares her teeth and strains against the aura, slowly inching forward to seize the pony again.
Twilight’s eyes widen in a moment of panic and then shut as she strengthens the spell, finally managing to hold Scootaloo still. My friend is staring down the sobbing pony with all the fury she can muster. I turn my head to a rustle from behind. Princess Luna strides in, flanked by two of her guard. She looks about in a moment of confusion but when she sees Scootaloo being held back the tiniest of smiles graces her lips.
It disappears when the captive picks his head up and looks to her. His eyes shift between her and Twilight with malice that rivals that of her attacker.
“Will you tell us why?” Princess Luna asks.
The pony curls his lip into a tiny smile and glares at her.
“I’ll make him talk,” Scootaloo growls. “I’ll stay in control.”
Twilight looks to Luna and she curtly nods.
Scootaloo immediately punches the pony the moment she’s released and slips off her gloves, grasping one of his bound forehooves. Her fingers click out and rest softly on his fur. A tiny smile touches her face and she begins to apply pressure to one of the digits, pressing into his flesh. He scrunches his face as if determined but it’s not long before he’s hissing through his teeth.
--
“They are reason!” he gasps. “They are why! Sun. Moon. Long ago they steal. You worship thieves! You let them stay control!”
His frantic voice carries no accent. If he weren’t missing a few words and chunks of his foreleg then I would easily mistake him for one of us.
“Alicorn abominations!” He cries out. “Poison you ponies!”
He looks to Twilight, “They make more.” He looks around to Sweetie, Scoots and I and manages to smile. “They make you. Slaves with poison minds. We free you.”
He looks directly at Luna. “We have free everypony we find.”
I sink to my haunches, trying to make sense.
Make sense of the reason.
No – not a reason.
That is not a reason!
They killed everypony in Quarry because they worshipped the princesses?
No.
Not just Quarry. Everypony from there to the coast. Everypony is dead.
I shake my head and feel nauseous. They aren’t waging war, but a massacre.
My fingers slowly extend outward. I feel something. It’s deep down, but growing hotter. As a filly the word was almost impossible to say, but I reckon I know it now. It’s becoming a part of me.
I hate this pony.
I hate all of them. They must be destroyed.
I will stop him.
I must.
Princess Luna does it for me, leaving everypony to stare at the limp body in the chair.
“Monsters,” Twilight whispers.
“Indeed,” Luna agrees. “He goes to Canterlot to be interrogated further.”
I pick my head up at that.
Huh. I thought she’d actually gone and killed him for a second.
“These Night Mares are to be deployed by day’s end,” she orders, striding from the tent with her guard in tow.
As Twilight’s guards move toward the prisoner, Sweetie looks to her.
“Can we read those letters now, Twilight?”
--
I dry my eyes and let the pencil hang loosely from my teeth. I tie up my mane in one of the bows that Granny’d sent and sigh. Twi said that we should keep the augmentations and such under wraps for the time being. As ponies are sent home, word’ll eventually get around that Night Mares are real, but it won’t be me that says it. Most everything else is free game, though. I couldn’t lie and say things were A-OK what with big brother having gone through it and all, but I didn’t give any details. They can know, but they don’t got to know everything.
I feel better after writing this, despite the fresh wave of homesickness. I softly smile and put the pencil down, setting the paper in an envelope with my fingers. These are actually real useful, all things considered. I hope everypony back home won’t be too freaked out by them. I trot outside into bright sunshine and find Twilight standing before a line of rumbling tanks preparing to depart to the line. Scootaloo and Sweetie sit atop one with other ponies, ready to go.
“Are you ready?” Twilight asks.
I nod and offer the envelope in my teeth.
She smiles and takes it in her magic, placing it into a saddlebag. She withdraws two magazines and tucks them into my backpack.
“This is specially treated ammunition,” she explains, “It’s not easy to produce, so use it only for extreme or especially important shots.”
She next looks me over and settles on my eyes. I tilt my head some. Looks to me like she’s got a little of that stare, herself. She steps forward and wraps a foreleg about my neck. I embrace her back, trying in vain to quell the butterflies in my belly that are sent into a frenzy at the thought of heading back out.
“Thank you,” she mutters. “Be careful and watch over your friends. We’re all proud of you, Apple Bloom.”
“Thanks, Twi. We still don’t hold anything against you,” I reassure her. “Don’t let nothing get to you, neither. You’re doing a mighty fine job.”
She leans back and levitates my new weapon over with a sniff. I named it Applejack – I’m sending Mac home with the letter.
“Good luck,” she sighs and steps back as I clamber aboard with my friends under the blare of a trumpet. “Good hunting.”
The mechanical beasts roar and clatter forward on a trail beneath falling leaves and a chilling wind. The fall must come here earlier than to the rest of Equestria. Twilight waves to us one more time and is quickly lost to the trees. I look down to the rifle in my lap and run my hoof over the weapon.
Our mission to sabotage those radio installations remains top priority. Twilight called those earth-pounders ‘artillery’ or some such, and they’ve halted the main advance. They’re upwards of five miles away from whatever they’re hitting and are very precise on account of instant communications. If we run across a battery then we’re to divert and destroy it. Either way, Union’s dying and we’re pushing forward. I look to my friends and they smile back. I openly grin and look back to the mess of orange and red leaves mixed with the pines, thinking of my first Running of the Leaves in the Whitetail Woods with sis…
“Hey,” somepony to my right mutters. “Hey, Apple.”
I open my eyes and glance to a hazel earth pony with a cropped, blonde mane. All of her equipment is clean as can be and her bright blue eyes focus on me intently under a green helmet bearing a red cross within a white circle.
“Howdy,” I answer. “Have we met?”
She suddenly becomes apprehensive and bites her lip, as if shocked that I can talk.
“Ah’m Apple Bloom. How’d you know Ah’m an Apple?”
She gives a nervous chuckle and shrugs, “Ponies just talk about you guys. The Night Mares, I mean. That’s you, right? Nightmare Two?”
I smirk, hold out a forehoof and flex my fingers out. At first she twitches back but then quickly leans in for a better look.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Ponies call me Band Aid,” she mutters without taking her eyes from my hoof.
I glance to her flank where two Band-Aids forming a medical cross proudly stand out.
“You’re a medic?”
“Mhmm,” she affirmatively hums as she flicks at my individual digits. I smile and retract them. Band-Aid pouts and sits upright again.
“Is this your first time up here?”
She nods with a smile and the helmet sinks to her muzzle. She tilts it up and giggles.
I smile softly back. It’s about all I can do. I don’t trust myself to open my mouth again. The tank slows and the commander emerges from the hatch.
“Knock them dead, Night Mares!” He shouts, “Go on – get going!”
My friends and I hop to the ground amidst a clamor of excited shouts. I look to Band-Aid and give her a quick salute. She gives a great big grin and waves as the line of tanks charges forward. A constant hail of artillery howls through the trees from above, causing my fingers to rattle in their sockets despite my best efforts to keep them still. The front’s up ahead, but we’re fixing to slip through and lend a hoof on the way.
“Let’s roll.” Scootaloo huffs and trots into the trees, taking lead.
I can hear another column of tanks pass by, and then another.
Sweetie pipes up, “How many ponies do you think are out here?”
“Of us?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“A ton,” Scootaloo answers. “Twilight told me that Luna has, like, thirty thousand ponies on the line and making the push.”
“No way,” I scoff.
“That’s what she said, and more are on the way. The princess isn’t messing around,” Scootaloo adds, “and neither are the bad guys. They have just as many, if not more according to advance scouts.”
A lot of us have been filtering into the Northwest these past few weeks, but that many? Twi had said that the frontline is many miles long, however…
“And just when did she confide all this, Scoots?” Sweetie probes.
She shrugs. “I just asked. Cadence is apparently kicking flank, too. She’s going to come up and meet us at the rate they’re going.”
I hum and look up to the canopy. The tree cover is thick out here and the sun shines through orange leaves, casting the forest in an amber haze. If it weren’t for the subtle tremors in the ground, the wail of artillery and the pops of distant gunfire I could up and take a nap right here in a bed of felled leaves.
“Rainbow Dash is still up here,” Sweetie mentions to me and speaks up to Scootaloo. “I thought the Bolts were headed back south after the Valley defense?”
“About half did,” she explains, “but Spitfire’s got the other half staying with Luna. Dash is with Fleetfoot’s wing somewhere up here.”
“You were out, but you should have seen their gear!” Sweetie gushes. “They have these saddles with two little handles that they hold with their fore-hooves. Then there are two huge guns that fire crazy fast.”
“More like wicked fast.” Scoots corrects her.
“Yeah, but they shoot bullets made of rainbows!”
“It’s totally nuts, but it works,” Scootaloo adds. “Twilight said she was looking into making them portable. Right now the Wonderbolts need these static metal wings to help get more lift while their real wings give the forward power. They got to have a running start, too, and the one we talked to said that only the strongest fliers could hover. If anypony else tries they fall like a rock – the wings need air going under them all the time, you know?”
I reckon back to the pony falling to his death in the Valley and shudder. “Yeah.”
The tremors gradually intensify while the low drone of the shelling seems to make my very bones creak. One impacts just a short distance ahead, causing us to duck low under a slamming shockwave that sends all the leaves into frenzy.
I begin to uncontrollably pant and force myself into a rhythm of deep breaths, licking my lips and gently closing my eyes for ten seconds as a soft rain of earth pelts my head. I clench my rattling teeth as the thought of us being suddenly obliterated forces its way to my mind’s eye. I jump at the touch of a hoof on my shoulder.
“Hey.” Sweetie looks at me, concerned. “You good, Apple Bloom?”
“Yeah,” I nod and shakily get up. “Yup,” I run a hoof over my face and sniff. “I just don’t much care for the artillery...”
She frowns and hugs me close. I go rigid at the sudden embrace but gradually stop shaking in her hooves.
“You’re fine,” she mutters. “Alright? You’re OK.”
She lets go and I let out a long breath, calming down. She smiles.
“The front’s straight ahead,” Scootaloo calls back. “Looks like a pretty good gunfight. You girls game?”
“We’re game!” Sweetie shouts and turns to me. “Come on, Apple Bloom. You’re a Night Mare – time to get back in the Muck. Time to kill those monsters. You’re good!”
I steel myself and rise to my full height, rolling my shoulders and exhaling nice and slow.
“I’m good.”
The two of us trot up to Scootaloo.
“Ready to rock?”
Sweetie and I nod and grip our guns tightly.
“OK – stay low and stick close, we’re right behind everypony. We’ll stop at the line and see what’s going down.”
Just a short gallop from our position a shell screams into the earth and rocks us hard. I bare my teeth and hiss out the shock. I’m good.
“Up!” Scootaloo shouts.
In a flash we’re on our hind legs and sprinting forward as the massive plume of dust comes back down. I dodge past a
tree and squint, seeing the heads of ponies straight ahead. I break through the tree line and slide into a small pit, startling the small group of ponies inside.
“What the? Whoa!” Scootaloo and Sweetie jump in with me. I look to the pony that spoke. She’s about our age and peers at us with widening eyes.
“You—” she starts to stutter. “You’re— you—“
“Need your help,” I finish for her. “Ya’ll got to let us through. When we get up, stop shooting for a little while, got it?”
She nods with her mouth wide open.
Another pony rolls her eyes and hobbles over to me.
“Don’t mind her,” the yellow pony mutters, “we’ve got your back. Stick around until we go over – it’ll be soon.”
She scoots back and I look over the rim of the pit to a scene of utter devastation. The enemy guns have obliterated almost all of the trees to my left and right, and still they continue to fire. Up ahead are numerous craters in which ponies cower under the bombardment, taking shots when they can at the tree line far ahead. Any friendly tank that dares to emerge from the shadow of the treeline is immediately struck by an enemy shell, exploding in a spectacular show of sparks and fire.
I gulp.
That could be AJ, somewhere.
"Those tanks need to stay put," the yellow pony growls. "They're fragile enough as is."
My heart sinks.
Fragile?
A distant trumpet suddenly blares over the chaos, and more carry its tune.
I jump at the shrill cry of a horn right beside me. A great shout rises from the Equestrian line.
“Up and over – move it!” the yellow pony shouts.
I clamber out of the crater with everypony and charge forward past static tanks that provide fire support. On all sides dozens if not hundreds of ponies emerge from the ground and gallop, shouting with all their might. Numerous yellow flashes in the tree line send bright streaks hissing past, the particularly close ones loudly snap right over my head.
“Go! Don’t stop!” the yellow pony shouts.
The ground comes alive under a directed barrage of earth-pounders that send ponies and debris flying upon impact. I veer right and into the dust clouds that they create, leaping over numerous craters and focused solely on slamming one hoof after another into the moist dirt. I glance over my shoulder at Scootaloo and Sweetie. They’re still OK. As we approach the enemy treeline the number of intact trees increases, providing us with cover. Gunshots erupt from the forest as Equestrians make contact.
I slide into the side of a destroyed tank and collect my breath.
“Y’all okay?” I pant.
Sweetie and Scoots nod.
I look back and frown. “Where’d everypony go?”
They look with me. A large cloud of dust obscures the forest on the other side, but a hoofful of ponies still run. It’s not long before they are struck and collapse to the ground.
I look about nervously, waiting for the dust to clear. As it finally starts to dissipate Sweetie gasps and puts a hoof to her muzzle.
“What?” I ask. “What?”
I squint at the fading cloud and my breath catches when I realize that nopony is there. Everypony’s gone. A few managed to slide into craters, but the ground is littered with multi-colored corpses. My heart sinks at the sight of a few crawling on their bellies – most are missing limbs. The firefight in the forest is short-lived and it’s not long before the Union is sending rounds across the way again.
Sweetie brings forth her binoculars. “You wouldn’t even guess that the charge happened.” she mutters.
I peer through my scope at the tree line from whence we just came. Already reinforcements are disembarking their ride and setting up shop.
I sigh and sink to my belly, “We’ll wait for nightfall. Get down before somepony accidentally shoots you.”
With that I make my way underneath the destroyed tank’s hull, using my legs to clear away a little pocket. My friends do the same and we can only watch from our makeshift shelter as the Union’s guns continue to pulverize what’s left of the forest. To the left and right, as far as the eye can see, there is nothing. It’s all flat and it’s all being contested. Tank shells whir overhead and bullets hiss back and forth whilst the ground incessantly rattles. Through it all the cries of the dying echo in my head. I lay my head in the crook of my foreleg and shut my eyes.
It’s horrifying.
It’s open war.
It’s Operation Starlight – the Equestrian offensive.
.
.
.
It’s about time.
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Smooth, the flow of events is clean and the structure is good . Enjoyable twist of character and a great insight.
5651508 No enhancements for the bad guys, they're just normal four-legged ponies. :) This is all told from Apple Bloom's perspective, so we only know what she knows.
Wow. That name suits it well too.
Anyway, I had expected Twilight to regret her decision, but not in that way. Very well executed.
So, Pinkie, Rarity, Aj, Fluttershy is a soon-to-be volunteer, and RD is on the front. That clarifies things.
So wait, did they burn all the bodies? Or just leave them in the building?
Oh, so that's how she interrogated him, interesting...
Trench raids, Forest recon, Tonks, I'm eager to see whats next.
Great chapter as always!
*whistles* Your writing gives me the jitters. The tension is killing me XD.
So the Union (whoever they are) are waging a war of extermination because they think that the Princess stole the sun and moon, and that they've poisoned the minds of the ponies and their bodies as well.
So the Union is FoE's zebras, but with their crazy applied to all of the Princesses instead of just Luna. I'm looking forward to a setback, though, and actual information about these mooks.
5651664 Aw, man I'm sorry to hear that. :( I wanted the bad guys and their tech to be real mysterious so as to keep the Equestrians (and especially Apple Bloom) from knowing everything right off the bat, but I suppose the storytelling aspect is suffering because of it. I apologize but thank you for letting me know and giving it a go. :) I really appreciate it!
“War ain't black and white, Celestia. It's grey, red and grusome, and if yeh think ya can just send mah kin to their deaths, yeh can think again. Ah alreadly lost mah boy to yer damned 'Gundam' project and ahm not gonna lose mah granddaugher too"
Granny Smith, Pony Seed Destiny: Dragonfire is best Gundam
Hallelujah, Its back baby, but NC you taunt me with a late night release. Why you taunt me in my exhaustion.
Hmm, dark green coloured sniper rifle? Did you just reference the AWM / AWP?
Another fantastic chapter and I nearly had a heart attack when they opened the building. I was thinking they found Celestia dead in there or something.
Awesome chapter keep it up but wow I wonder what Celestia would have done if she saw what was behind those doors.
Wow... well, another great chapter.
Am I a bad person hoping not to be in an army?
How long do you plan this fic to be?
TY and I can't wait for the next chapter. I love your battle scenes.
5651930 I don't think so.
The sniper in question.
5652475
Ah but we must remember, Apple Bloom wrapped the camo grass stuff around her gun. So I think it looks more like the gun in the cover art, just a little more green.
great job once more! Your staying very true to your tone.
T
Wow... just...
Ok... to start with, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm both glad and disappointed that we didn't see the interogation scene... probablly because of the lack of discription on the prisoner's condion afterwards. I'd think that before he broke we'd see a broken cannon (Forearm in horse anatomy) and at least a bloody and bruised face after Scoots thoroughly worked him over, but instead there's a glairing lack of details. Even if we don't see the actual actions, or Bloom is trying to ignore the details, they'd still be there.
On the other hand, I about had a heart attack (not literally, but figurativelly) when they started shelling the town, and didn't start to calm down until I knew Nm2 had both Princesses and were back on "Safe" ground. I've been in two car wrecks in my life so I'm somewhat familiar with what Shock feels like, and you do a damn fine job of laying it out here. This takes my own experience and notches it Up to Eleven, which taken into context with what's going on is completely understandable.
The scene at the end just serves to drive this point home. Nm2 were the only ones to make it across the no-ponies-land only by dint of a combination of their augments allowing them to run faster and harder than anypony else, in addition to having already survived one shelling and being better mentally prepared to push through the shock than the FNG reinforcements that just made it to the line.
I'm still shaking a little as I'm typing this.
Now onto the Tech: More than a few questions from previous coments answered.
Equestria now has Semi-Auto Fire Capability! F* Yeah! That'll defenitely help in the push. Now to take out (Or capture...?
) the enemie's artillery to make that even easier.
Also, we now know what the "Rainbow Streams" coming off the wonderbolts were: Equestria's answer to the Machine Gun Question. Only instead of bullets they shoot RAINBOWS!
... wait, wut...?
I smell more magi-tech tomfoolery like the Nightmares Hooves at work...
The Wing-Harneses also explain how they can be going so fast now: With the fixed planes providing all the lift their normal wings can focus exclusively on providing forward momentum, which means that anypony who's made it through Wonderbolt Academy can get going damn fast (I wouldn't be be suprised if RD's top speed could be measured in the Multi-Mach range now).
Okay, so the 'Union', I suspect, is referencing to the Nazis. With all the genocide included, this certainly is an interesting take on one of the most horrific groups in human history.
One question though, the guns and rifles get decent enough explanations, but 'Where the hell is all the detail of Equestrian Tank designs?'
Also, I think that the lacking description of Equestrian Armor kinda takes away a good deal of enjoyment from the fic for me.
The current description of Equestrian Armor is that they are made out of lead, lacking survivability (armor thickness and the chance for a shell to ricochet), have huge guns, and are decently mobile. This would leave me to speculate that they are something close to the following image:
media.moddb.com/images/groups/1/3/2074/Leopard_1A5A1_2.jpg
This above image is the Leopard 1 tank. In a nutshell, it has very weak armor, a 105mm cannon (which is devastatingly accutate, and can take down an enemy tank from 1km away or more), and is quite mobile.
What confuses me is how the Equestrian Armor Divisions engage the enemy. With a tank this fragile (as currently depicted in the fic) it is certain death for Equestrian tankers to wage close combat (anything less than 400m is considered close combat).
In WWII the German Panzer divisions has superior armor to anything else they faced, therefore making this method of combat viable. however, this tactic only worked because of the superior armor of German Panzers, which leads me to believe that, A: either the Equestrian tank crews are horribly inexperienced, and don't know how to engage an enemy aggressor properly, or B: the information portrayed in the fic is quite askew from standard tank tactics, and is instead a mix of both WWII, and modern tank tactics.
Another thing that is bothering me is how the Union and Equestrian tanks seem to be identical, or at least a match for each other. If the prologue says that Twilight was scrambling to design a tank to compete against the enemy's, then why isn't the Union tank superior in some way? Equestria, and I'm once again referencing the prologue here, has has no experience with tank designs and fighting against them, so why is the tank that Twilight designed so perfect and has no problem facing it's Union competitor...
I might let this go if Twilight had access to a captured Union vehicle, and then used that as a reference for designing Equestria's response.
This problem of conflicting information I brought to light is REALLY confusing the absolute crap out of me
, and please do keep in mind that I still did enjoy reading this fic regardless. 
I do hope that this can somehow be changed or fixed in the future because of me bringing it up
5652693
It's actually a combination of most of those things.
Twilight got most of her "ideas" for new tech from what material Sunset Shimmer could piece together on short notice, meaning that it's going to be skued and lacking in fine details. Sunset's a civilian after all, so complete technical documents will be limited to what's available through public record, and her own knowledge will be both limited unless the humanized unicorn actualy took a vested interest in warfare (which I don't really see happening after the Fall Formal incident) and limited in what she would KNOW to look for in order to fill in the gaps. Being a former student of Celestia, she could probably write a dissertation on modern warfare if given enough time, but that was likely time she didn't have before the portal closed so she was forced to cobble together what she could.
Their tanks are barely out of the Prototype stage, and so their armor hasn't been as thoroughly "Field Tested" as would be preferable, meaning that by the time the war is over the designes will probably go through as many revisions as the firearms (which are currently on Mk. 4 For the standard issue and Mk.2 for the Long-Rifle varient).
As for the tactics, they are both siverely underdeveloped and the Tankers are also just as inexperienced (Chapter III described the tanks as hardly having a dust sploch, meaning that Shimmering Valley was likely their first engagement). Experience can only come one way, but their Standard Tactics and Rules of Engagement taught to fresh recruits are likely cobbled together through a combination of information provided by Sunset Shimmer (which would be from "modern" source material and historic references) and stratigests going "Well, This seems to have worked in other theaters so do that."
Here's a concept NC Mares drew up a while ago if you want an idea of what they look like
th05.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/i/2014/283/c/5/tank_by_ncmares-d82aqov.jpg
As for if Twilight has had a chance to study a captured emeny tank: We don't know. We only know what AB knows or is actively thinking about. Though after the last couple battles I think she'll have a few husks to dig into and reverse engineer, so if not before then it won't be long.
5652370 Thanks, pal. I wouldn't want to go to war, either. :( Makes me all the more thankful and in awe of the brave individuals that have both the guts and the conviction to serve.
5652693 Ah, I understand. I apologize for confusing you and thank you for bringing this to my attention! You can bet some more details are in store in regards to armor. :) These vehicles are by no means modern, nor are their guns that large - at least not by our understanding. When I imagine the Equestrian tank I always picture a Panzer IV. They aren't using the actual tank, of course, but that's the inspiration. I wanted to leave the tanks up to the imagination, but it appears that I left out too much. :[ The death rate for Equestrian tanks is supposed to be wicked high, too, because you are correct in them having sub-par armor. They at least have a capable gun, though! :D
If you wouldn't mind a quick read; how's this?
“Need your help,” I finish for her. “Ya’ll got to let us through. When we get up, stop shooting for a little while, got it?”
She nods with her mouth wide open.
Another pony rolls her eyes and hobbles over to me.
“Don’t mind her,” the yellow pony mutters, “we’ve got your back. Stick around until we go over – it’ll be soon.”
She scoots back and I look over the rim of the pit to a scene of utter devastation. The enemy guns have obliterated almost all of the trees to my left and right, and still they continue to fire. Up ahead are numerous craters in which ponies cower under the bombardment, taking shots when they can at the tree line far ahead. Any friendly tank that dares to emerge from the shadow of the treeline is immediately struck by an enemy shell, exploding in a spectacular show of sparks and fire.
I gulp.
That could be AJ, somewhere.
"Those tanks need to stay put," the yellow pony growls. "They're fragile enough as is."
My heart sinks.
Fragile?
A distant trumpet suddenly blares over the chaos, and more carry its tune.
I jump at the shrill cry of a horn right beside me. A great shout rises from the Equestrian line.
“Up and over – move it!” the yellow pony shouts.
5652817 OHHHH! I completely forgot about Sunset Shimmer's involvement in all the information provided to Twilight, which is probably why I started to question and scrutinize. Thank's for the long-winded explanation!
It'll made my reading and understanding of this story much easier now that I'm not constantly questioning all the tank details.
Although, there is still one question that's still not explained this question goes out more to the author. If the Union was the first to prototype the tank, then can we expect a newer, better design with actual armor (something like the Tiger 1 or Panther for example). Possibly even some AT trucks, field guns, or maybe even AA guns in the future as well? We've already established that the Union has access to some sort of long-range mortar.
5652849 Yea! I'd say that's a great transition and also what I was looking for, but now that all my confusion is cleared up I also think it wouldn't be a bad idea to follow the adventures of 'Tank 32' a little bit. Maybe as a little side story...
Hypothetically speaking, if you wanted to do follow my suggestion then maybe start from the part where Tank 32 drops off the CMC and heads east. It would make for a great little addition to the story in my opinion.
5652903
Why do I sense FoE spin off level fandom approaching... I was actually thinking something similar for Lt. Shake n' Bake.
5652906 Sorry never heard of FoE...
what exactly does it stand for?
5652913
Fallout: Equestria
5652936 Yea I just realized that... Kinda feel dumb for not seeing it
Oh, and come to think of it, that actually could be a reality
Maybe something like Girls und Panzer, except not an anime style.
Now all we need are some Spitfires and Lancasters. Then we can rock and roll!
5653013 I´d say we need a resistance movemement that speaks with a french accent!
...sorry.
5653046 5653013
upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/78/AMX-13-latrun-2.jpg
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I would have prefered the Union to be less black and more grey. By making them crazy fanatics, it pretty much gives justification to the equestrian side to cross any moral line yet keeping themselves as the "good guys".
You turned children into weapons, Twilight. What did you expected?
Another epic chapter well done! Nice to see something new man! :D
This is looking to be an insane and epic twist to this story...
BLOOD GUTS DEATH!... man things... pinkie pie things.
Sad to see she didn't get to go to war 8D she can bend the laws of Reality! XD
Keep it up dude!
5653720 Young mares* :P Not quite children, but close.
How horrifically ignorant...simply charging blindly directly into enemy crossfire.
And you have to understand, all this tech -- tanks and all -- are relatively new to them, no more than a decade or two. The concept of a massive iron turtle with a giant cannon that can move at all is mindblowing to them. The fact that can considered ineffective?
Terrifying.
I've always thought "Why don't they just make an assault tank with a 200mm metal snowplow at the front?"
I'm no genius, and I'm sure the idea flew and was shot down at some point for some reason...but how many lives could be saved?
Again, an amazing dark read...keep it up.
5653805
Because a tank with a 200mm gun would be f-ing huge in order to reinforce the structure enough where the operators aren't turned to bloody paste by the recoil. A Leman Russ main battle tank from Warhammer 40K still only has a 120mm cannon, which is about the max you can go for a tank of normal~ish size, so were talking Baneblade class Heavy Tanks (which also double as mobile command centers because there so huge), and there's a reason Warhammer rules restrict their deployment to Apocalypse Scenarios.
5654264
Actualy, fun fact here. The King Tiger (Or Tiger ll) could technically (and they estimated this) hold a short barreled 155mm caliber artillery gun (and I emphasize, artillery, not tank gun, think the ISU-152) on the Krupp turret. Its weight and engine power could support firing one (with artillery supports of course), but the Axis didn't have any, or any to spare from their artillery. That, and they didn't want to cut up a perfectly good King Tiger, so they settled for a long 105.
5652849
I liked they way you worded that, fits the fact that Apple Bloom doesn't know AJ is home. It adds that feeling you get when your reading and you come across an event with one of the characters, and it hints at something you know, but they don't. And it makes it even better when the character finds out.
5654423
Exactly, at that point a tank of that class size is no longer really a battle tank but a mobile artillery platform. Looking at images and comparing relative sizes I see that the T-2 is roughly the same size as a Leman Russ but the turret on the T-2 is larger and the chassis is more squat but elongated further, so I can see how they might be able to mount a gun that big on it. As for the ISU-152, looking at images I see that the main gun and crew compartment are all in the front with an elongated tail meant to distribute/absorb the recoil over a larger area, explaining how it could sport such massive armament.
5654264 I didn't say gun, I meant like a giant snowplow at the front, like a triangle sorta shaped shield. Armor, not gun.
5654545 Ya, you could do that; It wood probity be to front heavy to move unless you put a counter wait on the back, but then it wood probity be as slow(if not slower) then the Panzer VIII Maus.
Ya see logic.
5654545
) Um... You hypothetically could still use a cannon to plow snow by shooting HE rounds at the largest drifts...?(
)
Well... (
Ahem...
You want to put 200mm of extra armor on the front of a tank and shape it like a V-Plow? Well, I can kinda see the logic there but from my armature~ish understanding of engineering I can already see a few flaws... Mostly in implementation (It'd be simpler to just add an extra layer of armor and slap a normal plow on the front) and stumbling blocks with lateral movement that would be simple enough to overcome, but the big one is slapping 200mm by several m^2 more armor adds a considerable amount of weight to a vehicle, making it less maneuverable, especially on certain types of soft terrain (sand, muddy fields, forrest loam, etc...) and focusing all that extra weight on one end means you'd need to counterbalance it with something equally heavy on the tail end because while a Tank's squat profile means its weight is distributed over a larger area of ground, they are still capable of flipping forward or backward under the right circumstances.
5654612 Then again, this thing isn't really going anywhere fast -- in the heat of battle, it just needs to be a big shield. If it really does need to get moving for logistical purposes, I could see it being towed with trucks to help.
But it's too late now -- all of those ponies are dead
5654645 and being towed means that it's no longer a tank, but an armored artillery platform with an undersized gun and a canopied crew compartment. If you're towing it by requirement, it no longer needs an engine of its own, either (and what of the ponies in the trucks who don't have the benefit of that armor?)...
Antoine de Saint-Exupery
To make a TANK capable of sporting such a plow and still have it be maneuverable enough to be practical it'd need to be about 50% larger than even a Tiger-2...
Edit: apologies for the extra post. My tablet's browser was acting up and wouldn't refresh properly so I've combined them...
Amazing story! Can't wait for more!
Question for NCMares: What is every other nation doing? I would think that the Griffons and Diamond Dogs would take this opportunity to hit Equestria or the Union, depending on how much they dislike the Princesses. A major war like this is shaping up to be always draws in allies and opportunists, after all.
5654545
5654581
Let me just solve this...
Like. The. IS-3!?
You know we have a name for this right? Its called a pike-nose.
5655058 Yeah, but I wasn't exactly thinking of an integrated pike-nose design -- more rather a bulldozer, not necessarily a battle tank design with the gun and turret. Just as a protective shield for an advance.
Ok seriously guys, it was just an idea, let's not turn this comments section into a mess plz and focus on the story at hand ^^' sorry~
5654534
Actually, I didn't mention either of those tanks. The Tiger 1 would be to unstable and it would probably shoot out the back of the turret, and the King Tiger P or T-2 wasn't tested. It was the Tiger 2 H (Henschel) variant because the turret out performed the Porsche one In every eay.
5655063
CANADA!
Oh we got those too.
So, like a Sherman bulldozer? Could work, especialy if they invent flamethrowers.
Ok, ok. Dropping the thread, back to feels (story).