65: Downpour
“Ladies and gentlemen, mares and stallions, we didn’t ask for this curse. We didn’t ask for our two worlds to collide. But we didn’t ask for Pearl Harbor or 9/11 either. Ponies and humans have been thrust together, as well as killed, because of this. They have been tortured and sold as slaves.”
The Admiral looks across the flight deck at the brave men and women. The pegasi, the unicorns, the earth ponies in uniform, all standing proud. Blue Lagoon is breaking up the storm around the ships as the clock ticks down.
“Well, I say, no more! Today we take the first step to a better world. Today we fight for freedom for those that can’t fight for themselves. Today we take the fight to the pirates, to the weapons smugglers, and the terrorists that prey on the innocent. Today we say in one united voice, no more!”
The cry rises from all the crew, “For freedom!”
Each of the pegasi congregate to have their final checkovers done by the support crews making sure their communications systems are linked. Each has a defensive weapon on their foreleg, a 9mm with a hundred rounds. Their main tool, though, is their laser designator. They are the pathfinders for the jets. They’ll find the targets and mark them.
They are cobbled together from members of the 520th on the west coast, and military pegasi from Japan and Hawaii. Their job as pathfinders is probably the most important job in urban combat like this. Drones won’t be able to react fast enough, or be able to fly low enough to spot the targets. Looking straight down, they all look like shipping containers until they open. Though a pegasus can play the angles and see inside if the rear control doors are open.
Their goggles have a heads up display system, which is linked to their self defense weapon. It lets them see where their pistol is pointing. It’s all off the shelf gear, even the gun sights are off the shelf. A civilian made Bluetooth scope that includes target prediction speed and air temperature compensation, and it also has automatic range finder and ballistic compensation built in. The system is considered a cheat by most hunters, and in fact is illegal to use in some places. It’s being used here simply due to the pegasi’s inability to shoulder and aim a weapon normally.
The pegasi were the first in the air, they don’t need to wait for the storm to clear. They need to be as close as possible to land before the storm breaks up and boats are put to sea. They’re the vanguard.
*** HMAS Brisbane ***
“Weather is still pretty bad out there. Do you think she can really break it up?” The radar operator says from his station.
“We’ve seen what they can do. Blue Lagoon isn’t alone in this either.” Captain Stevenson says, looking out the window.
“How are our Special Operations boys holding out?” The XO, Commander Cruz, asks looking out the window.
“My lads are tough as nails. No need to worry about them.” An army major says, looking out the window. The Brisbane crests another wave its bow dropping down heavily as she makes for the shore line.
The HMAS Hobart and Sydney are following close behind. Dropping RIBs in this kind of weather would be considered insanity, normally. The plan calls for it though, as soon as the storm starts to break, the three destroyers drop their Special Forces teams and make a break for it. Once they have room to maneuver again, they’ll be on the lookout for any Klub-K missiles that are launched.
“We were caught by surprise last time. This time, we own the surprise.” Captain Stevenson says firmly. Glancing over, the Captain looks at the stuffed animal strapped to the helm. Most Royal Australian warships have a mascot, and the Brisbane is no exception.
Mascots are often the pride and joy of a ship. Sailing without it is considered bad luck. It’s rare for a mascot to change, but given the situation, this is all about change. The stuffed toy is held in place by straps to prevent it from being tossed around the bridge in the rough weather. The little pegasus, dressed in Royal Australian Navy uniform sits proud and true. It’s compass cutie mark a reminder of their missing aircrew member.
Daring Do may be safe at home in Equestria now, but the HMAS Brisbane will never forget her. Her place on the ship held in honor by the stuffed mascot.
*** Panama City ***
Sunny Daze sighs softly, “I’m bored.”
“I know, but we have to wait here for now. Full Steam doesn’t want to risk walking through the city during the day. Since we can’t use the big bridges, we need to wait till night time anyway to use the swing bridges over the Canal.” Ambrosia says to the filly as she looks out the window.
“You’re worried about him too?”
“Yes, he’s been gone a while.” Ambrosia says, fidgeting.
“I should have gone, besides I need to be out in the sun.” Sunny Daze says, “Otherwise my cutie mark gets all itchy and fadey and stuff.”
“It does not.” Ambrosia says, shaking her head.
“Well it feels like it, my mark is a sun so I’ve gotta be out in the sun.” She huffs.
A thump at the door hushes both ponies and Ambrosia moves to the back of the wagon. Peeking out, she sees Full Steam with a bag in his mouth, much to her relief. Quickly, she opens the door, letting him in, “Don’t scare us like that.”
“Sorry, it was hard to find stuff.” He says and dumps out some bananas and potatoes. “I know, it’s not much, but it’s all I could find.” Looking down at Sunny Daze he smiles gently and places a long sugarcane stalk in front of her.
Sunny Daze’s eyes go wide at the treat. She hadn’t seen one of these since before her change, and now that she’s a pony, she’s wanted to try one for months. Quickly, she hugs Full Steam before sitting down starting to gnaw on the end.
“Careful, don’t spoil your appetite for dinner.” Ambrosia says, looking at Full Steam, quietly she mouthed to him with a smile, “Thank you.”
“When’s sunset?” Full Steam says, looking out the window.
“Eighty-two minutes.” Sunny Daze replies without really thinking about it as she gnaws on her cane.
“Then in two hours I start pulling again, after dinner.” Full Steam nods.
“How are we going to cross the Panama Canal?” Ambrosia asks, worried.
“We can’t use the toll bridge, or the large suspension bridge. The swing bridge, though, is open at night. It’s used by farmers and local traffic. I can pull the wagon across there without anyone paying attention or even batting an eye.” Full Steam says with a faint smile.
Ambrosia nods and gets to work, making dinner, the little wood burning stove is good enough to boil potatoes, or bake them. Being earth ponies, in some ways, limits what they can do for food. But it does allow them to use some of the more common plants that are used to graze cattle or sheep. Of course Ambrosia isn’t about grazing, she’s careful to pick out the best plants, wash them, and season them for everypony. They aren’t animals, after all.
***
The Admiral sits in the combat information center, watching as aircraft move into position. Fighters, attack aircraft, helicopters, even airborne early warning and control shows up as dots on the board.
A total of five E-2 Hawkeyes are moving to their stations. Three of them are staggered about a hundred miles from each other along the Samaru Island coast line. They will watch for any ship’s missiles or other threats coming from the shore line.
The first of the F-18’s are setting on station, they will provide the first line of defense against any counterattack. Slowly, but surely, the F-35’s are lighting up on the screen as all carriers were launching their strike wings. This isn’t expected to be safe or easy. This isn’t expected to be a cakewalk like Panama or Somalia. The risks are real and the stakes are high.
“Fighting 3 in position, Fighting 4 and 5 on station now,” Calls out one of the radar techs.
“Attack 1, 2 and 3 in the air, 4, 5 and 6 are launching,” Calls out the flight ops.
“Strawberry 2 reports one target leaving port, fishing trawler.” The radio operator calls out, “Target designated Green 1.”
“Heat blooms showing up in the engine room of a freighter, designated Red 1. Threat is high.”
There will be civilian casualties. The press is going to have a field day with this. But this has to be done. Too many lives have already been destroyed, and this location needs to be neutralized.
“Pathfinders in place and ready. Operation begins in eight minutes.” Calls out the XO.
“Send the go codes now.” The admiral says.
*** Cherry Blossom ***
She walks, her head low, down the hall of the ship. Her ‘trainer’ whipping her flank with a thatch if he thinks she was moving too slowly. He carries an AK with him, but he keeps it shouldered. He has seen no need with this pitiful mare.
She has walked the corridors a few times to the holding cells. The air is filled with hopelessness as much as it is filled with the smell of oil, and dirty ponies. A smell she will never forget.
The electrical shock behind her ear causes her to flick it a few times. She’s been waiting for this, the transmitter behind her ear has received a signal and is now pulsing once every ten seconds. The military will know where she is in real time.
Now, she needs to do her job.
Unlike Cheerilee, Cherry has spent years training to fight as a pony, and her body reflects that training. Years were spent building strength, stamina, speed, and agility, both in the gym and fighting in the ring. As a human, she had grown up learning to fight. She did her military service, as was the duty of all Israeli’s, before joining the Mossad.
She’s also seen real combat in Syria, in the West Bank, and in Egypt during the uprisings of terror. She is not an innocent pony by any stretch of the imagination. And she certainly is not helpless.
In a blur of motion, she spins around, rearing up to look her ‘trainer’ in the eyes. She speaks clearly and coldly as he looks at her in shock and horror. “You will never touch another pony like you touched me.”
There was no response from him. All he can do is cough up some blood. Her hoof has crushed his ribcage, driving his breastbone into his heart. A moment later, he falls to the ground.
Turning, she runs down the hallway, the clatter of her hooves alerting the guards in the holding area. Grabbing his rifle he turns to point it down the hallway. It’s already too late for that. Standing up on her hind hooves again she’s already face to face with him… a stern look about her.
His lifeless body flies into the second guard in the room, knocking him back. Charging across the floor she falls to her side, sliding under a table then meets the second guard as he hit the ground. Her hind legs slamming into him in a devastating kick. The power earth ponies have in their hooves far exceeds that of normal earth horses. A human body simply can’t take the damage she can dish out with even a single hit. Ponies like Applejack and Maud Pie can shatter steel, stone, or wood with a single kick.
She searches the bodies for the keys, which unfortunately, is a lot trickier than it seems when you’re using hooves. She finds herself ripping open the pants to get them out, a sight she would rather forget. In a matter of moments, she has the doors open.
“We need to get off this ship. NOW.” She says, there’s an assortment of ponies, humans, and even a pair of griffins in the mix. “Move fast, follow me, and keep your heads down.”
Perking her ears she hears the sound of the first explosion. “Move, now.” She shouts.
*** Fire ***
Fire Streak tags the next shipping container with his laser before shooting up higher. About thirty seconds later the two hundred fifty pound bomb slams into the canister, the four missiles inside blowing up, obliterating the building that’s beside the container.
These are not laser guided bombs. They are GPS guided, though the lasers work in conjunction with a burst transmitter. Spinning quickly, Fire tags a man portable SAM quad rack on top of a building. The laser calculates the range from where Fire is hover, there is a gyro system that calculates the angle and direction the laser is pointing, and that information is matched with Fire’s own GPS. A moment later a burst transmission is sent off with the GPS location of the missiles.
In response to Fire’s call, an F-35 drops another two hundred fifty pound bomb which speeds down to the target. The explosion takes out a good portion of the roof. It couldn’t be helped, though. These people have chosen to set up these missiles where they did. They figured that the fact that civilians are in play would stop people from targeting them.
“Fire Streak!”
“What’s up, Wind?” Fire calls back over the radio as he turns, searching for more threats.
“AWACS says long range surface search air search radar just went active on the hill.” Wind calls back, “I need help!”
“Aww hell, that’s the last thing we need.” Shooting up, Fire catches up with the other pegasi as they begin heading for the hill side on Samaru Island. Small arms fire rises up from the trees, but the pegasi are just too fast and small to be effectively shot at.
Within moments, Fire spots his prey and tags a Russian made radar site sitting about two thousand feet up the hillside. Tagging it as quickly as he can, it still takes another minute before the bombs find their target. Wind has designated the generator vehicle and both sites vanish under expanding fireballs.
The damage has been done, though. Turning, the pair see several missiles streaking out from the city towards the open water.
“Oh hell… VAMPIRE, VAMPIRE, VAMPIRE! Multiple missiles airborne!” Wind calls out.
*** CIC ***
“It’s confirmed, eighty-four missiles are inbound. F-18’s are engaging.”
“Zumwalt is firing SAM’s and taking evasive action.”
“The cruisers Port Royal, and Vella Gulf, are moving into position to screen us, their missiles are being launched.”
“Increasing speed to full, coming left to 225.”
Missiles screams from launch silos on the ships in response to the incoming anti-ship missiles. Trails of smoke and flashes of light illuminate the decks of the cruisers and missile after missile leaves its silo to protect the carriers and landing ships.
*** HMAS Brisbane ***
“Hard to starboard, launch countermeasures!” Captain Stevenson calls out as he grips the chair.
The Brisbane leans hard as she starts her turn, her Phalanx and Bushmasters are churning out round after round, trying to stop the zig zagging missiles. Rounds splash into the water before one of the missiles is hit, exploding in a fireball.
Half a kilometer behind, the Hobart shudders as a Klub-K slams into its helicopter hangar and detonating. Fire engulfs the rear of the ship, but she isn’t out of the fight yet. Her five inch gun taking out a fourth missile before it can do any damage.
Alarms sound on the Brisbane as the radar operator calls out, “Vampire, five hundred meters and closing!”
Her deck gun fights hard to turn around in time. Her Bushmaster is in a reload cycle after the last missile. This one is heading for the forward part of the ship, locked on to the superstructure.
“Four hundred meters, guns won’t get there in time, she’s inside minimum range for the missiles!” The weapons officer calls.
“Three hundred meters, countermeasures are deployed, sir. But there is no effect. She’s locked on.”
“Brace for impact!” Captain Stevenson calls out.
At a hundred-fifty meters, a young pegasus mare slams into the side of the missile, sending it spinning into the water, where it explodes. The concussive force of the explosion sends the small pony skipping across the waves before coming to rest in the water about two hundred meters off the ship.
“The hell was that!” XO Cruz calls out.
“One of the pegasi, she sacrificed herself.” Comes over the internal communications from the one of the spotters, “She’s in the water, not moving.”
“Get a RIB in the water, NOW! Have medics in the RIB with supplies. We may not be able to pick the RIB up if we have to keep dodging.” Captain Stevenson calls out.
“Daring Do would have done nothing less.” The radar operator says, looking at the mascot.
*** Cherry ***
The water is filled with debris. The smell of smoke and chemicals fills the air. Machine gun fire is being countered by missiles and guided bombs. People are yelling, crying and screaming. While the air power is not deliberately targeting the civilians, the placement of the weapons by the pirates is leading to high casualties.
Cherry moves her group through the water to a spot under the docks. There are nearly a hundred twenty prisoners that she has rounded up, not all are slaves, though. Some are ships crews that were kidnapped for ransom. Many have been tortured.
While the city is mostly civilians, they all have been profiting from the piracy and slave trade. Cherry has very little sympathy for them right now. Instead, she is concerned with the lives of those under her protection.
Poking her head out, she sees the pegasus coming in low and fast above the water. The pegasus is dodging some small arms fire before hitting the water and vanishing. Cherry itches to go out to see if she’s okay. She wants to go out to help, but knows she can’t break cover… counting slowly, she waits and hopes.
Twenty seconds later the pegasi’s head pops up, she’s panting hard as she dog paddles under the dock. “Supply package for you.” She chirps.
Blinking Cherry sees the pegasi’s wing is bleeding, “You’ve been shot.”
“Yeah, trust me it hurts a lot. I think I’m grounded for now, but the Australian Special Forces are eight hundred meters down the coast.” The pegasus says, looking around, “Rosewing, JSDF.”
Taking the satchel from Rosewing, Cherry quickly puts on the headset and foreleg gun. “Cherry Blossom here. Holding position with over a hundred rescued, we need evac. I have casualties and the area is hot… Very hot.”
“Roger, Cherry, support is heading to your position. Gunships will be there in thirty seconds.”
*** USS Ronald Reagan ***
Cannon fire from the escorting destroyers and cruisers, as well as short range rolling airframe missiles, are firing as fast as the fire control systems will allow. So far only two ships have taken damage from the incoming missiles. The HMAS Hobart is burning, but the captain is sure he can save the ship. The destroyer USS Zumwalt has taken a hit to her bow, but she’s still afloat. Zumwalt can only make eight knots right now, but she’s hanging in the fight with her railgun and missiles providing long range cover.
“Captain, two more coming in on port side.” A spotter calls out.
“I see ‘em.”
Rolling airframe launchers spun, putting out missiles. The defensive missiles meets mid-flight with the Klub-K’s, detonating them. An explosion rocks the cruiser USS Port Royal as a missile hits it in the superstructure, smoke pouring out from the hole.
Snaking its way between the cruisers, another missile heads for the carrier. At a mere twenty-five feet above the water line, it was masked by the other ships until now. Its onboard computers has helped it evade defensive fire and now it locks onto its prize, the USS Ronald Reagan.
“Captain, incoming!” comes the shout.
Climbing, the missile speeds for the island superstructure, its control surfaces making fast adjustments, causing the missile to dance side to side in the air, making it hard to track and shoot. Missiles won’t be able to get it before it hits.
Spooling up and spinning on its mount, the carrier’s Phalanx systems opens up, firing hundreds of rounds into the air.
“This one’s going to be close!”
The missile detonates only a hundred feet from the ship. The shockwave blows out windows and portals all along that side. Fragments impacted with the hull and superstructure.
Turning, the Captain throws himself over Blue Lagoon, shielding her from the blast and fragments. Pieces of metal and glass impact all over the deck. Smoke quickly fills the room, but there isn’t any fire. The point defense guns had minimized damage and stopped the missile just short.
Coughing hard, Blue Lagoon shakes her head. Her ears are still ringing from the blast as she looks around. The Captain is still laying on top of her, but he isn’t moving. Quickly she gets up to check him. There’s blood on the back of his uniform.
“MEDIC!” She cries out, “The Captain’s hurt!”
*** Cherry ***
Armored Vehicles take up positions and begin firing at rebel strong points at the edge of town, this has given the Australians the cover they needed to advance. The team has dug in, allowing a safe corridor for the hostages and slaves to escape.
“Major, there are two more buildings, there and there, where they are holding prisoners.” Cherry points out.
“Got it, you know you’re bleeding, right?” The major says.
Cherry looks back at her hip, “Yeah, small arms fire, it’s probably going to require surgery but it’s just in the muscle.”
“Medic, get her back to the hovercraft.”
“I’m fine.” Cherry says with a growl.
“I know you are, but orders are orders, your job is done.” The major says as a tank takes out a machine gun site.
“This is the battle of Mogadishu all over again.” One of the Special Forces says, shaking his head. “Everyone’s shooting, even the children.”
*** CMC EC ***
Feather lay with her forelegs crossed in the tree house. The TV is on, but she really isn’t paying attention. She feels like such a failure, all the work and nothing. She was sure she would have gotten her mark that time.
“Well at least the tree sap and pine needles are gone.” Cloudy says, lying beside her.
With a huff, Feather tilts her head and screams up at the ceiling. “I thought for sure we’d get it that time!”
Candy blinks and leans back from his chair, “Wow, okay, you were right Cloudy, maple trees aren’t the ones with pine cones.”
Both girls glared at Candy, who shrugs, “Don’t look at me, I was just a weather girl remember.”
“Canadian flag, maple leaf.” Cloudy says, looking at him sternly.
“Come on, I grew up in a big city.” He says.
“Think we can get on the shooting range?” Feather asks.
Candy shakes his head. “Asked about that, said we had to be about a hundred pounds heavier.”
“Come on, how hard is it to find out what we are good at?” Feather says and stands up.
“We’re good at being cute.” Cloudy says and sits down, doing her best to look adorable.
“Yes, and that’s dangerous, look how many times we’ve had to run because of it.” Candy responds with a shiver, “Kids have no sense of where not to touch a pony.”
“Oh, I have an idea.” Cloudy perks.
Candy flops backwards on the sofa after turning off the computer, “Shoot, I’m five percent ears.”
“Five percent?” Feather asks, confused.
“Duh, if I was all ears I wouldn’t have a mouth, so I couldn’t speak.” Candy says.
“ARGH! What’s your idea, Cloudy?” Feather said turning away from Candy.
Candy wiggled an ear at Feather, mocking her.
“Cutie Mark Crusaders Pop Band. Ponies are all good with music, we could try for musical cutie marks! Like Ballad and Sky Song.”
“Remember the music store incident?” Feather says.
“Oh yeah, I forgot about that.” Cloudy says, and all of them sigh.
“Want to try some farm work? Maybe we could try for earth pony type marks.” Feather says.
“Oh, I’ll check for the closest farms.” Cloudy says and bounds over to the computer.
*** Velvet ***
“Welcome to Fort Bragg’s School for Gifted Unicorns.” I say with a giggle.
Fleur just groans and flops down on the pillows.
“Twilight Sparkle's School?” Sugarberry says, smiling.
“It’s not being named after my daughter.” I huff.
Cipher perks.
“No, we are not calling it Hogwarts either.” I say, laughing.
Cipher droops.
“Honestly, Fort Bragg Unicorn Academy seems to be the best choice.” Ballad says.
“I’m still shocked they won’t make you an instructor, at least in pay.” Sugarberry says, sighing.
“Makes sense, I don’t have the rank, teaching courses, or such to be one. As well what I’m teaching is so alien that they can’t really work a course around it.” I say with a sigh. “The idea of magic in its raw form is too strange and is so different between individuals. Sad to say they have an easier time accepting earth pony strength and pegasus flight.”
Ballad huffs, “Pegasus courses like transponder usage and laws of the air are taught by instructors. Just cuz we using magic doesn’t mean our courses are any less important.”
“Wagon pulling 101.” Sugarberry says.
“WHAT!” We all looked at her, blinking.
“Just saying, earth ponies don’t have courses.” Sugarberry says.
Fleur rolls onto her back, curling her forelegs, “Other than the common classes, walking 124, hoof care 101, and how to use the bathroom.”
“Be nice, Fleur.” I say, shaking my head.
“What? Those things are confusing.” She giggles. “There’s what, four knobs?”
“Okay, point.” I say.
A pillow slams lightly into the side of my head. Blinking I look over at Cipher.
“Are we out of coffee?” I ask.
“Nope, I just started a pot.” Cipher says, “Careful, it’s strong.”
“Eeyup.” Sugarberry laughs before I throw the pillow at her.
“Oh, I’m heading back to CID tomorrow.” Fleur says, “I got recalled. I’ll be back next weekend though.”
“Aww, but with you around its so much like Equestria…” I say, smiling at her.
“Well except for all the humans around.” Sugarberry says.
“Well some of the humans are nice, some of them even have cutie marks.” Ballad says, nodding.
“If they have a cutie mark, they are a pony.” Cipher says, nodding firmly.
Opening the door Henry walks in, “Aww heck, what did I just walk into?”
“Nothing, we’re just talking about the magic course and what to name it.” I say, then I blink. “What’s that?”
“Umm donuts, fresh, hot, just out of the fryer. I picked up a few dozen for the guys.” He says, then he starts to look worried.
“Well now you’re joining us instead.” I say firmly.
All around the room horns light up.
“Girls? Umm girls? No! Get your own!”
Art work by Alkarasu again. The Panama group. Imagine, walking 6500 miles based on a dream.
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Finally, some proper violence! And with civilian casualties too!
I still think that the strike force casualties was too low for such a fight, but that's your call.
Poor Henry, why do you pick on him so?
love the new chapter just superb work.
Harts Fire
exultant attention to the details.
I am interested to see how the little group from Panama makes out over there short walk.
Excellent as always. Fewer cute pony moment than I like in this chapter, but those pony smugglers have to get stopped!
Wow, the contrast between the pirate battle and the CMC's attempts to find a cutie mark.
And the scene at the end was so squee!
But I want to know how the battle turns out still!
6447435 Henry would lose all the donuts! Don't tell anyone!
Loved the update and I look forward to the next!
pony soldiers common task manual (experimental)
STP-1-1-SMCT-P (pony)
chapter 2 Unicorn tasks
task : levitate up to 35 kilos of equipment
Condtions : given a task common to any soldier moving ,installing or loading equipment in keeping with the soldiers MOS
Standard : unicorn soldier uses magic to lift and manipulate equipment and items common to their MOS
1; soldier must lift a minimum of 35 Kilograms of static weight
2; soldier performs task following correct safety procedures and policies
3: soldier performs task IAW correct technical manuals and operating instructions
4: soldiers performs task with the time limit
5: soldiers does not damage equipment damage is defined by crushing, dropping. Igniting,disintegrating teleporting or making items vanish without reasonable hope of recovery
Okay, I'm gonna say it if nobody else will.
rs4.pbsrc.com/albums/y111/Riff216/friday---Daaaamn.jpg?w=480&h=480&fit=clip
6500 miles on a dream is better than in a desert on a horse with no name, cuz really, there ain't no one for to give you no name.
Dedication right there.
Silly CMC:EC, you're falling into the same trap! Slow down and ponder.