The Atlantean-Dominion War

by The Atlantean

15. The Battle of Emberforge Valley Part 2

“Volley fire on my command!” Silvercrest called to her regiment. “Ready… Wait for it… NOW!”

Several hundred ponies fired their repeaters into the advancing Dominion line. “Again!” Without reloading, they fired a second swarm of bullets. “Again!” A third volley sent mangled ponies hurtling backwards; the enemy was getting close. “Fire at will!” The Second Coastal began to pick their targets and shoot when they’d hit. Silvercrest was in the center of the Atlantean line, being an example of what she wanted done. She fired several shots from her new toy - a pistol modeled from Indianapolis’ reverse-engineered equipment - until it ran out of bullets. Then she reloaded and restarted the cycle.

Dominion ponies were falling in heaps, it looked like. Bodies could be seen strewn across the field between the heights and Emberforge Valley Forest. Blood slowly oozed from thousands of wounds and dripped onto the reddening ground, congealing as the day wore on. The sky was filled with a white haze that acted like a hanging fog, blocking the sun and choking both sides. Artillery sent cannonballs overhead that tore apart everything and everypony they came into contact with. Crimson’s line partner Snapdragon simply exploded when one such ball ripped right through his steel armor and out the other side. His blood splattered Crimson and a few others, but when they looked again, they saw only two chunks of meat and bone lay where his rear legs had been; everything else was gone.

An Atlantean gun crew ran out of ready ammunition and one of its members picked up a ball that had landed nearby. He rammed it in after a powder charge and the gunner lit it. The gun went off, sending the ball back the way it came and into a Dominion ammo carriage. The thing exploded and flew sky-high, landing on a burning, screaming pony who’d been tossed by the blast. The Dominion fired back, churning the ground with concussions and hot metal spheres of death.

Northern Lights tossed a “boom-sphere” into an approaching line of infantry and ducked behind a hastily-made log wall he and his brother had thrown together outside camp. The grenade went off, but way closer than he liked. A second toss and it bounced right back over the wall - next to him.

“OH, SHIT!” he cried and dove away, rolling as he hit the ground. Southern Lights mirrored his brother, just in the opposite direction.

“North, they’ve got a shield! Our shit it useless!”

“Go tell the Colonel!” Northern yelled back. Then he picked up a single-shot musket from a nearby fallen Atlantean. He threw his repeater to his twin, yelling, “Take this! I’ll hold ‘em off!”

Southern Lights caught the rifle, but faltered in his move to get to Silvercrest. “North, You can’t just do this!”

“I’m older, boy!” he called. His white horn lit up and Southern was rolled away, towards the rest of the regiment. “Go!” Tears were building in Northern Lights’ eyes. “Let Mom know I ate her sandwich three years ago! And tell Amber Swirl I love her!” He chambered a round and fired, taking out a pony.

Southern Lights turned around and ran. When he looked back, he saw his brother crouched behind a wagon loaded with incendiary cannon shot, still firing the musket. The younger twin stopped on a low hill, watching. Northern had two muskets now, firing both before reloading. Then the Domination troops got close enough and Northern lit a match on the shells. A fireball erupted, sending a pressure wave through the valley and setting the entire forest ablaze. Southern Lights never saw his brother again.

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Crimson was temporarily disoriented by the sudden fireball and pressure wave coming from his left. The camp started to burn fiercely, its canvas tents and smoldering firewood igniting easily in the heat of an explosion. He stole a glance and was horrified by what he could see from his position. The forest appeared to be afire. Thick, black smoke rose from the campsite area, smelling like burning magnesium (known more commonly as “boom powder”), gunpowder, and oversized campfires. He could even see the heat waves radiating from the flames; it was that hot.

Platinum shook him back to the battle. “Red, we’re outta here! The Colonel wants you to guide us away from your trap while we head deeper into the trees!”

“Right.” Crimson hurried to the front of the retreating line of Atlantean ponies and plowed his way through the tall, strong woodland. He saw the trapped meadow ahead and veered around it, heading for where he knew was west. Silvercrest was on his tail, running at full gallop as fast as she could manage. Platinum raced behind her, followed by Southern Lights, who appeared out of nowhere, then the main troop body, and finally Woodpecker and Treetop.

“Where’re we going?” Silvercrest asked between huffs of breath.

“Around the trap.” Southern Lights said from behind her.

“South, where’s your brother?” Platinum cried. His eyes suddenly darted to look.

“We lost him. He started the fire.” Southern Lights almost broke down then, but kept running for the others’ sake.

Treetop passed the meadow they’d explicitly avoided and accidentally set off the special trap. A glass bottle fell behind him, shattered, and spilled its contents across the forest floor. The ingredients, disturbed, combined quickly to create an enormous BOOM that felled trees and knocked ponies end over end. The cloud of debris joined what had already filled the atmosphere, thickening the air and choking wildlife.

Silvercrest noticed a single small flag draped on a tree branch. “This is the Fourth Midlands’ territory. We’ll link up with them if they’re still alive and find a way out of this mess. I know Medical was with Sarge, so we can get some of that when we find Sarge and the Nineteenth Cliffside.”

Some of the Midlands was lucky enough to find them and guide the Second Coastal around their own traps. Then they found more and more on the journey west, towards Mount Emberforge. Scraps of groups remained of the once-proud regiments that constituted AREA. eventually, Silvercrest spotted Sarge atop a low hill, sending bullet after bullet into incoming Dominion line infantry with the 19th Cliffside’s tattered emblem flying high overhead.

“Sarge!” she screamed, but she was drowned by the overwhelming volume of gunfire.

He did notice the approaching regiments, however, and instructed his guys to open a hole. They responded as if they were well-trained, veteran troops, not the newbie recruits in their first battle that they were. Soon, all seventeen flags flapped defiantly in the freshening breeze that did little to actually relieve them of the smoke.

“Silvercrest! Who’s left?” Sarge asked.

“I think it’s just us. Medical with you?”

“Yeah. Pulled here with them as soon as I saw that big fireball on your end. Was that ordered?”

“No. But it bought us some time by distracting the Doms.” A large explosion ripped the air from her lungs, replacing it with the ever-present white smoke. She coughed profusely, then cleared her throat. “Looks like Warrant Dawn’s stuff went off.”

“Probably. But we have bigger problems.”

“What?”

“I thought we could go west and make for Emberforge, but signal flares told me the enemy’s everywhere. We couldn’t get to the base if we tried. We’re on our own, and we’re surrounded.”

Author's Note:

I just realized that Nurse Lieutenant Rose Thorn's cutie mark looks cooler if it actually said her talent - being an army medic. So that's changed if you want to look at it.

Hopefully the gore wasn't too descriptive.

Feedback appreciated.