Advance of Night

by The Lord Inquisitor

Chapter 1: Ambush before breakfast

MSR 'CANTERLOT', 0524, Birch Ranges.
One mile East of FOB Nocturne.

“Contact front!” The bellowed roar splits the morning like an axe, followed by the sudden sharp and unwelcome whip-crack of rounds incoming. A bright flash of gold slices through the darkness as a flurry of tracer rounds snap past us. Instantly we whip around and start to gallop for whatever cover we can find, the unicorns among our patrol hurling up shields to protect us from the enemy fire whilst the rest of us dash into cover. The enemy have chosen their ambush point expertly, and fire streaks down at us as more weapons open up on our exposed patrol.

The thickly wooded slopes of the valley on either side of us are providing excellent cover for the ambushing force; whilst the rocky terrain directly to our front just beyond the bend likewise provides perfect cover for the heavier weapon that is now battering our little patrol. Rounds snarl over our heads, bright yellow tracers scoring vivid lines in our Night Observation Devices and puffs of dust erupt all around us as the enemy find our range.

I duck behind one of the larger rocks on the right hand side of the trail, fire snapping at the air behind me. I quickly raise my head to scan for targets along the left side of the road, and it takes me only a moment to spot my first target: a unicorn mare, clad in bulky ceramic plating, not all that dissimilar to the suit I'm wearing.

I quickly squint, feeling the enchanted rifle shifting below my neck as the helmet-mounted targeting monocle directs the weapon into the aim. I zoom the monocle in on the unicorn mare, and the little red light in the corner of my eye turns green to let me know I've got a valid firing solution.

She's standing in the open, just letting loose with her rifle and trusting her shield to soak up the rounds. That’s an amateur’s mistake. As I’m about to fire however, I see a figure hobbling past her, likewise dressed in Equestrian army issue camouflage ceramic. He’s stumbling, dragging himself forward on two fore-legs, his hind legs dragging behind him.

I can hear him shouting at the unicorn to leave him, and I can hear her equally frantic cries for him to move faster. Too late now, buster.
I squeeze the firing toggle, my jawbone pressing against the firing switch lodged between jaw and cheek.

My rifle opens up with a sharp rattle, the report of the assault rifle ringing in my ears as I fire, three bursts of bright purple tracers that skip through the sky to slam into the unicorn's position. Dust leaps up around her and her shield sparks under the impact of the first burst of rounds and fails under the second. The unicorn starts to gallop for the nearest cover, however, the third burst of rounds slams into her, splashing her armour with red and sending her sprawling. I shift my focus, turning my head to take aim at the ‘crippled’ target, and three shots to the barrel put paid to him.

Around us, I can hear my colleagues barking out contact reports as they engage targets with mixed results. The volume of fire we're taking is unbelievable, the air is thick with golden tracers. I can hear the fire all around us now, intensifying into a blistering hail. I duck my head as another round thumps into the ground next to me, the shockwave of its passage rippling through my mane. I move to reposition, hunting for another more sturdy rock to hide behind as the enemy start firing at me in earnest, their own NODs giving them good eyes on my position. I whirl as a round sizzles through my tail, the smell of burning keratin reaching my nostrils along with the stench of ozone and smoke. We’re being engaged by more than just small arms now, and I can hear the thud thud thud thud of some kind of crew-served weapon tracking my progress.

I dive behind the nearest set of rocks I can find and realise I'm not alone in my new cover. Corporal Punishment, the fire team lead, is likewise firing at the enemy position, putting one volley after another in the direction of the enemy.
“Lovely weather we're having,” she says brightly. “Very sunny, clear skies, maybe you can do something about that, Baz!” her tone sharpening as she turns to glare at me, her magic keeping her weapon pointed at the enemy as she lets off another withering burst of fire without even looking at a target. Bloody unicorns, they get all the fun things.

I nod, shifting my hooves and using my wing to flick a boom microphone attached to my helmet down. As the FASTAC attached to the patrol, my job is to call in such air or artillery support as I can at need. It's exciting, complex and challenging role and one that I've only just graduated into. It's also a hell of a lot of fun. I quickly look down to read the aide memoire attached to my foreleg, a quick tug with my teeth pulling the velcro cover away to reveal the relevant pages. I quickly scan through them, my grin widening as I realise what callsigns are in the air tonight. We’re deep in the shit and we are getting deeper by the second, we need air support urgently or we will take casualties. With that in mind, I fire up my radio.

“This is Moonstrike One Five calling Birch Forward; I have troops encircled and under heavy fire; requesting tasking at grids five one zero eight one nine, Danger close. Ground commander initials are Sierra Lima-32.”

“Moonstrike, this is Thunder-Cloud One-Two.” Jackpot, I think as Birch Forward chops a new voice onto my frequency. Thunder-Cloud is the callsign of the Wonderbolt attack team in the vicinity. I haven't heard much about how good the famous pegasi are at anything other than formation flying, but I'm looking forward to finding out.

“Thundercloud is a two-pony multi-role flight, standard loads and unlimited playtime.” The voice continues into my ear as more gunfire rings out around me, thwacking into the rocks around our position, our section digging in and returning fire bravely. However, we’re outnumbered and outgunned, and the situation is worsening by the second. I can hear more enemy heavy weapons opening up, and the rumbling of an approaching armoured vehicle
“Cool, Moonstrike is a patrol on MSR Canterlot, friendly grid, zero one zero eight, three four nine two. Enemy hoof mobiles in hard cover among rocks, grids to follow. Our position is extremely tenuous at this time.”

“Copy that, assets en route.” The voice doesn’t sound like any of the famous Wonderbolts, but I’m not picky. To be quite frank, I’d accept junior speedsters with beebee guns and slingshots at this point. I start rattling information off for the incoming flight of pegasi, exchanging grid references and generally trying to give the incoming flight as much information as I can about our position.
But all my business talking the air-ponies on to target is rather suddenly brought to an abrupt stop.

“PONY DOWN, PONY DOWN!” The voice rings out over my headset and I look up from my cover to see one of our unicorns down in the middle of the road, red dust splashed across his breastplate. I only get a second’s glance before more fire forces me to duck behind the rock.
“Get some fire going!” Corporal Punishment snaps over the radio “Put smoke up, somepony grab him!”

With that, I redouble my efforts with the air support. “Thunder, we’ve got a pony down here and enemy danger close, I need you in my overhead right the fuck now!” I snap into my microphone as I look around. The others are dug in and in good cover now, but no one’s moving to get our downed colleague. I can see the position marked on my helmet-mounted display in red along with a timer to simulate how long till he bleeds out. He doesn’t have long, “01.00” is displayed before my eyes - a minute at most. Somepony needs to get to him right now, get him back into cover and administer ‘first aid’.

“Moonstrike, this is Thunder, we’ve been re-tasked.” Thunder’s voice is apologetic, as well she might be. Without Thunder, we’re well and truly up shit creek with no paddle. B Company is an infantry company after all, and whilst we’re mechanized, nopony has seen fit to let us bring our chariots with us tonight. The only carts we have available are the ones we used to bring our heavier gear up, all of which are back at base. For support assets, it’s not much better. Whilst Fifth Battery, Royal Artillery has sent some mortars to train with us, they haven’t sent their larger ordinance to come and play. In short, without that close air support, we’re fucked.

“Copy that Thunder, fuck off and clear my frequencies, Birch Forward, do you have anything else?” I ask irritably.

“That’s negative, all other assets are on tasking or unsuitable.” Birch replies grimly.

“Copy that, out.” I knock the boom microphone out of my muzzle and glance around the edge of the rock. A hail of bullets sends me scampering back behind cover. I’m the closest to the downed unicorn. With that I glance at Corporal Punishment who smirks back at me.
“You’re going to try and get him?” she asks, and I nod quickly. She grins in reply. She’s always been a sucker for the big play, and if I manage it, it looks good for her. That being said, the enemy have us boxed up tighter than a Hearth’s Warming gift and the moment I stick my muzzle out, I’m going to draw fire. However it’s my buddy, my comrade out there and I’m not leaving him behind.

The ground starts to shake beneath my hooves as the enemy start opening up with mortars, the shrill whistling ringing in my ears as hostile shells fall from the sky. It’s a rather gutsy move, given their own troops aren’t exactly far away, and one misplaced shell will paste them just as easily as a good hit will paste us. But the point cannot be clearer, we need to get moving, if only to get out from under those mortars.
“Well, good luck, we’ll give you cover fire.” Corporal Punishment says, freeing a smoke grenade from her webbing and preparing to throw it with her magic. With that, I check my equipment and then prepare to do something really stupid.

Corporal Punishment hurls the smoke grenade out. I wait three seconds, hearing the gentle hissing of the smoke building, then I flex my legs and prepare to dash out and snatch my wounded comrade.
Outnumbered, outgunned and surrounded on all sides. Welcome to the Lunar Rifle Regiment.
With that thought, I raise my voice.

“For the New Lunar Republic!” I bellow, and as a torrent of guffaws echoes through my headset I leap over the rock, my wings straining to give me the required lift to get up and over the rock.

I hit the ground then start galloping towards the downed unicorn, the thick smoke filling my vision as I dash towards him. I can feel a gust grasping at my ceramic armour. The blanket of smoke is snatched away from around me and the gunfire starts, the rattle of rifles and the thunder of heavy repeaters fills the air with a furious tumult. Spellfire strikes the ground around me, and I hear the fizzle of weapons fire against the shield that the other unicorns in the patrol have thrown up around me.

I reach down, grab the unicorn by the strap at the back of his armor and start to pull my comrade back with my teeth, backing up as fast as I can as the shields put up by my unicorn comrades begin to fade beneath the relentless onslaught of enemy fire. My colleagues are returning fire as best they can - putting out a truly vicious amount of fire - bright tracers sparking as they snap past me.

“Keep going, you’re good, you’re good!” Punishment’s voice rings in my ear as she punts another smoke grenade into position. I can’t return fire since I can’t tilt my head up to look around for enemy forces and get a sight line on them for the monocle. However as the growling of the approaching armour fills my ears, I start to move faster, trying to drag our downed unicorn back to the cover of the rocks. I know I’m not going to make it as I hear the scraping of tracks on the road as the chariot turns the corner and lines up its weapon.
Then I suddenly hear a rising howl behind me, a roar like a powerful gust, a roar that I’ve heard before. It’s the sound of a pegasus on an attack run, coming straight in at our position.