Fallout Equestria: Alphabet soup

by Doomande

Zebra: Klemenza’s Duty by Clarke Otterton

“Lieutenant Klemenza, wake up, sir.” I pushed back against the hooves of my tesserarius as she shook me from my dozing. Grumbling, I looked at my watch and saw that it had only been fifteen minutes since the legion had halted in a hayfield overlooking a sleepy farming village. Thick forests and tall fields of wheat surrounded the town, and beyond that, plumes of dust rose skyward to show the progress of the retreating Equestrian Army.

“Sorry, Sergeant Thito, closed my eyes for a second,” I said to defend myself. I shuffled against the round haybale I was leaning against to reanimate my stiff limbs. The hay was fresh and coarse, the fibers chafing between my equipment belts and wool tunic as I moved.

The legionnaires around me had the same idea as me, the zebras lounging between haybales and furrows in the field. Most had placed their helmets over their eyes as they lay, light glinting off the exposed brass of those helmets that had lost the canvas cover bearing the embroidered “XX” insignia of the 20th Legion. A few of my soldiers had discarded their helmets entirely in favor of local varieties of wide-brimmed felt hats. I made a note to address the slackening discipline when we arrived in our billets for the night; it seemed to be getting worse with each mile we marched.

Since the start of the war three weeks ago, our legion and the rest of the Empire’s armies had marched over 400 miles into Equestria. When we weren’t marching, we were fighting. And for that reason, I didn’t blame my soldiers for taking the brief respite to catch the last evening rays of a warm summer sun that was slowly dipping between boiling columns of storms building on the horizon. But the Caesar set his standards for a reason, and as an officer it was my duty to uphold them.

I jotted down a few figures in my notebook for the quartermaster, then returned it to my side pouch. A little clay figurine fell out into the grass, the painted shapes of a zebra nuzzling a pony filly poking between the yellow stalks. I smiled warmly to myself as I retrieved the figurine in my hooves.

My father had cherished this item for years, telling me stories of how it had brought him fortune during his service on the northern border with Equestria. I nuzzled the smooth contours of the clay, feeling the subtle bumps of lacquer that were thickest where a little star was painted on the flank of the filly. To my father, carrying the figurine was a reminder of his duty, to defend and nurture that which was blessed by the providence of the Stars. When I received my commission, he passed the figurine to me; it was the last thing he ever did.

“Major says we’re resuming the advance in a few minutes,” Thito said. I shoved the figurine into my pouch and glanced again at my watch out of habit. Thito removed her helmet to smooth out the sweat-matted hairs in her mane. “Hopefully we get out of this field soon, it’s making me nervous.” The sergeant turned her gaze skyward. My eyes followed, scanning for the dreaded dark smudges of a pegasus flying between the clouds.

“I would prefer to not get wet again,” I said lightheartedly. The evening rain showers had become a regular occurrence during our march. I did not envy the zebras working the wagon trains whenever the storms turned the dusty roads into frustrating quagmires of mud. The morning rain was just as frustrating for us, except that the ponies typically used shrapnel instead of water. Although I suspected the Equestrian guns were already limbered and heading north, a substitution of shells for our normal afternoon storm two days ago reminded me that my assumption could be wrong.

“Really? I kind of enjoy the rain – washes the dust off,” Thito also tried to keep her tone humorous. I chuckled with her to ease the knots in my stomach. The relief did not last long as whistles sounded along our line.

“Well, looks like that’s our cue,” I said, shaking loose hay off my uniform as I stood up.

“Alright you lot, get up!” Thito commanded as legionnaires struggled to their hooves and mouthed curses as they replaced helmets and straightened their harnessed rifles.

I drew my saber from its scabbard and took a deep breath. “Fix bayonets!” I followed the lead of the other centurions in my cohort after hearing the sound of scraping metal along the line. I was nervous. It was rare for a lieutenant to command a centuria, a role typically reserved for senior captains and majors, but this was war. I was the second optio in my centuria to fill the post of centurion, and likely not the last one, either. I didn’t want to think about it.

“Centuria will advance at the walk. Forward!” I took my saber in my mouth and used my free hoof to urge my legionnaires to follow me.

Our cohort’s objective appeared to be a grove of pear trees that bordered the main road on the southwest side of the village. The tops of the trees glowed warmly above dark, cool shadows that concealed the worn lanes the farmers used to tend to the crop. The shadows also concealed an irrigation ditch, which flashed to life with the rifles of khaki-clad ponies.

I ducked as their first volley flew over my head. Regaining my composure, I tried to issue a command. My voice cracked. I tried again. “Charge Bayonets! At the trot, forward!” The line surged and twitched as legionnaires picked up the quicker gait and dodged zebras who had been felled by the Equestrian rifles.

The crackle of the ponies’ musketry was near constant; I had learned from the past weeks to respect the efficiency of the ponies and their rifles. The Equestrians were stubborn in the defense, always picking the best ground to whittle away at our advancing formations, always standing firm, yet always giving way to the inevitable progress of our legions. I took a quick glance at my watch then smirked as I waved my saber forward.

It was simple mathematics; each pony with her rifle could fire fifteen rounds a minute. Sustained fire by a company-sized unit of ponies could break my cohort in three minutes, although the intensity of flashes in front of me suggested that the company positioned in the pears was severely understrength. I estimated that the distance between us was 200 lengths, which with a good execution of walk-trot-canter evolutions my centuria could cover in just under two minutes.

I opened my mouth to issue the next order in the evolution, but my voice was drowned out by the screeching of a shell that exploded to my left. The shrapnel shredded two of my legionnaires and tossed an additional five in a shower of dirt. The cohort’s advance stalled as zebras around me buried themselves in the ground to shelter from the sudden barrage along our line.

“Shit,” Thito swore as she hit the dirt next to me. “Damn ponies are going to get away again.” Through the haze of dirt and smoke I could see the small bursts of color and khaki as ponies rushed deeper into the shadows of the pears. There must have been a pegasus hiding in the clouds, and his efforts now allowed the Equestrians to retreat further north and fight again another day.

“Maybe the 2nd cohort,” I flinched as a shell burst ten lengths to our right, “can make it to the road and cut them off.” I ducked again as another high whine sounded overhead, the shell coming down to carve a long furrow behind Thito. I started to get up to avoid the explosion but Thito pushed me back down.

“If the ponies used a proximity enchantment instead of manual fuses, they wouldn’t have that problem,” Thito said, chuckling back at the faulty shell. “Not that I’m complaining. These guns are close, though - that trajectory was almost perfectly flat.” Screams of pain sounded behind us, another shell finding victims among my legionnaires.

“On second thought, maybe getting wet doesn’t sound so bad after all.” Thito rewarded my joke with an obscene gesture.

“Look, there’s our battery, just on the edge of the pear grove,” Thito pointed to where I could see the muzzle flashes of the guns, the bursts of light holding the darkening evening sky back with each shot. I estimated the distance to be 300 lengths. The guns were close. “What do you want to do, sir?”

I gulped, but I knew what I had to do. “Our orders are to close with the enemy at every opportunity,” I said. “We’re going to do our duty. Sergeant Thito, get the centuria lined up.” I hopped up as my tesserarius shouted in her monstrous voice to stir my legionnaires. Adjusting my helmet and equipment, I turned my head back briefly and smiled.

“Let’s go get us some guns.” Shells exploded around me, showering my zebras with dirt, but through the murk I could see them return my smile. I took a deep breath. “Charge bayonets! Advance at the canter, FORWARD!”

My heart pounded in rhythm with my hooves and those of the hundred and fifty or so legionnaires cantering behind me. Within twenty strides most of my centuria was clear of the shelling. I leapt over the ditch that was now empty save for spent brass casings and discarded equipment. As I landed, I changed leads to swing onto one of the lanes between trees. Through the branches I could see the battery still firing steadily towards my cohort. Ponies, all of them pegasi I noted, dashed between the guns and caissons arranged on a small hill. The battery’s exposed position was hastily chosen and, if it were not for the extra mobility the wings of the pegasi provided, would make an easy target for our own artillery. I only hoped my legionnaires were quick enough to catch them.

“Here’s the final stretch, let’s kick ‘em back to the Stars. For the Caesar!” I shouted as we cleared the grove with nothing but open fields between us and the battery, which was now frantically limbering its pieces. I felt the glory of the moment rip through my muscles as they stretched with each stride. This was my duty, and I was proud to do it.

“Cavalry on the left!” Thito shouted beside me.

“Shit!” I turned to see a squadron of pegasi flying towards my centuria’s open flank, their line bristling with lances as they wheeled out of a stand of oaks. The guns would have to wait.

“HALT!” I skidded my hooves into the dirt. “Centuria will wheel on-line, to the LEFT!” A ragged line formed next to me. The mathematics were against me this time; I tried not to focus on the figures.

“FIRE!” The line erupted in sporadic crackling as my legionnaires fumbled with their rifles. It took ten seconds for the firing to become steady, and another ten seconds before the first pegasi started to crumple down into the field. That only left ten seconds to break the charge before the lances were upon us. It wasn’t enough time.

“Charge bayonets! Brace yourselves,” I ducked as a lance attempted to spear through my helmet. The legionnaires dug their bayonets into the chests of the leading line of lancers. The second line of cavalry was smarter, flying above the reach of bayonets to plunge their long lances into the rear ranks of my centuria. Most of the zebras discarded their rifles, relying on their martial skills to maneuver on their hooves and tussle with the scattering lancers.

A pegasus charged at me with her lance, clipping the sleeve of my tunic and burying in my pouch before I slapped the lance away with my saber. The mare pulled back to recover. I threw my saber down then twisted onto my forehand before throwing my weight into my hindquarters. The kick caught the mare squarely in the jaw.

I picked up my saber and returned it to its scabbard. Thito flicked her hoof to stun a red pegasus that was charging at me while I was bent over. “Thanks,” I said.

“I never understood your attachment to that pony weapon,” Thito said in reply. I chuckled then spun around to assess the battle. An Equestrian bugle sounded just as I started. The lancers turned their heads towards the sound, then flew up to disengage. I felt a bit of relief wash over me, then scowled as I realized why the cavalry was called off. My eyes just caught the last specks of the battery as the pegasi tugged the guns further into the stormy evening sky. I swore. Another failed opportunity to fulfil my duty.

---

“I would say you did your duty admirably, Lieutenant Klemenza,” Major Praeclarus said. I soaked up the praise of my cohort’s Primus Pilus as I walked beside him and the rest of the regrouped legion along the road into the village.

“The guns still got away, sir,” I said, a tinge of bitterness escaping into my voice.

“But he took the initiative, and gave those lancers a good thrashing, too, that he did, sir,” Thito offered her own praise to Praeclarus. He chuckled.

“You did good, kid. I wish I had more officers like you, the kind that I know I can trust to do their duty.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said. I grinned warmly in acceptance of the praise, which meant the world to me. The tall, handsome figure of Praeclarus, as well as his good-natured leadership, reminded me of my father. I liked to imagine, as I walked down the road between lengthening shadows, that the spirit of my father moved beside me in the orange light of evening just as Praeclarus did now. He would be proud of me; I was doing my duty.

“Do you still carry around that clay thingy?” Praeclarus asked, the tone in his voice suggesting he was in the mood for teasing.

“Of course, sir,” I replied. “It served my dad well until it became mine, and well, the Stars decided it was his time.”

“You still believe that Stars hocus pocus,” Praeclarus huffed. I pulled a mock look of shock over my face, then laughed along-side my commander.

“Don’t say that too loud, you might run into an inquisitor when you least expect,” I joked.

“Confess! Confess!” Thito joined in on the fun.

“Whoa, what have we here?” Praeclarus said, his face becoming serious as our column entered the village. I saw why. The scene before us was one of utter chaos.

A swarm of refugees clogged the only road out of the town, ponies rushing madly to push their carts away, each one heavily laden with a potpourri of personal items. A broken down wagon, its axle snapped in half, was the source of the traffic jam. Most of the ponies working to clear it abandoned their efforts as soon as they saw our column enter the village, looks of fear flashing across their colorful faces before they clambered around the wagon and away from us. Those who chose to stay huddled in their houses, some looking at us with tears welling in their eyes while others simply glared as they slammed shutters closed. Even though I had seen the same scene countless times ever since we had crossed the border, the plight of the ponies caught in the midst of the war always pulled my spirits down. It was simply pitiful.

There was, however, a notable difference between this village and the ones I had been in before. A large contingent of khaki-clad ponies filled the tiny square of the village. Many of the ponies leaned against buildings, their tunics unkempt and opened to reveal matted fur as they nursed bleeding soles on their hooves.

A cherry red unicorn, an officer by the style of her tunic, was hobbling in the center of the square in an attempt to restore order to the stragglers. Despite the deformation of her foreleg, the mare seemed to get around well, bouncing with a bubbly grin in a losing battle to get the ponies to listen. Her grin remained fixed, albeit with less bounce, as we halted the column then approached her. Despite her being my enemy, my heart felt for the Equestrian officer and her plight.

“Major Praeclarus, Primus Pilus, 3rd Cohort, XX Legion. Of my orders I demand your adhesion,” Praeclarus introduced himself in Ponish to the officer.

“Lieutenant Klemenza of the 3rd Cohort. My expectation is of the same sort,” I struggled to follow my commander’s lead while also finding the right words in Ponish.

“Ok then, since we’re doing full titles,” the officer’s grin persisted, “I’m Major Cherry Bounce, 8th Brigade staff and previously of Their Majesties’ 2nd Battalion, North Equus Regiment of Hoof.” Praeclarus noticeably winced. “Most of the ponies here belong to that battalion and are in pretty bad shape. Do you have additional medical supplies? We need to get them some care.”

“Excuse me? What do you mean by we?” The shift in Praeclarus’s tone caught me off guard. I looked up to him and saw that a firm malice had overtaken his previously temperate scowl. The pony noticed it too, her eyes retreating behind the same cheerful grin.

“Well,” she began, “I’m assuming we are now your prisoners. I don’t want any trouble, Major Praeclarus, just what’s best for my ponies.”

“Sergeant Thito,” Praeclarus spoke in our language, “fall the cohort out, starting with your centuria. Tell them to enjoy the spoils.” Thito looked at me, her ears tilted in a confused expression at the order.

“Sir, what do you mean …” I started to ask, confused as well

“Do it, sergeant.” I had never heard Praeclarus speak so sharply.

“Yes, sir.” Thito gave me one last look before marching off to dismiss the legionnaires from formation. Cherry Bounce took a sip of something from a tin flask as she listened to our exchange.

“Our legionnaires fought hard, lieutenant. Let them have their spoils of war. I’m sure there’s even a good mare for you here.” Praeclarus raised an eyebrow and smirked. I opened my mouth to question further as legionnaires ran past me into the village, but my commander switched into Ponish to continue addressing Cherry Bounce.

“Major Cherry Bounce, I am afraid we are not taking prisoners from the North Equus tonight. But I can assure you, your ponies will be quite alright.” The sleight of tone caused my stomach to twist.

“But sir,” I protested, “is it not our duty to capture and safeguard all Equestrian prisoners we encounter?” I watched as zebras started pounding on shuttered doors, breaking windows and anything that was deemed too big or worthless to fit in their packs. A few ponies in khaki struggled to defend against the zebras but were shoved aside. The lack of discipline appalled me, yet I understood it.

“Our duty is to win this war, Klemenza, for the Empire. You can’t do that by making friends with ponies. I learned that the hard way.” Praeclarus patted his hoof on my withers and smiled warmly. “You’ve still got a lot to learn kid. Go have some fun. Maybe even start with this red mare – she’s a looker.”

My eyes drifted toward Cherry Bounce’s haunches as the mare, her eyes widening at the flood of legionnaires pillaging the village, turned her backside to hobble towards her ponies. A brief spurt of desire warmed through me, but it was pushed aside by the growing turmoil in my mind. I turned to my commander, my mouth aghast. I trusted him. He was like my father. But something tugged at me, a prick at my heart that fueled more unease to pump through me.

“Sir, I don’t … my duty …” I stammered.

“Still on about that duty?” Praeclarus shrugged. “Very well, since you want to keep working. Round up some legionnaires and prepare torches to set fire to the village. Once you are done, take Bounce and her ponies into the grove and … take care of them.”

“Sir, I can’t … that’s…” I could barely think of the words to say. I wanted to understand.

“You want to do your duty, don’t you, lieutenant?” Praeclarus’s eyes were cold and hollow as he stared into mine. “I can trust you to do your duty, right, lieutenant?” I sighed.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Praeclarus walked off, leaving me standing in the middle of the square. The first screams of violated ponies rang through my ears, but I filtered them out just as I wiped the tear from my eyes. I had my duty to do.

“Thito!”

“Yes, sir,” Thito ran up to my side. “You know what’s gotten into the major? I’ve never seen him unhinged like that. What did that unicorn officer say to him?”

“I forgot you don’t speak Ponish, Thito. To be honest, I’m not sure. But we have some duties to do. Round up some legionnaires.” Thito returned within a minute with 30 zebras. Her efficiency always impressed me.

A busted cart of linens provided the necessary tools for our duty. I instructed my zebras to rip away the spokes and boards then wrap them with cloth. I then ordered them to split open several rifle cartridges to cover the makeshift torches in the flammable powder.

“Hold your torches out; I’ll light them,” I said. I reached back into my pouch and dug around to find my lighting tool. My muzzle bumped up against something smooth, the clay figurine, which I pushed aside to retrieve the lighter. The twin gems of the tool had recently been reenchanted, so it was short work to ignite the torches. “Sergeant Thito, you may begin.”

I stood still as the legionnaires moved past me, their torches held aloft. Systematically they entered each building, tossing the incendiaries through broken glass into dark rooms. It was simple mathematics; within two minutes, the flames were licking at the wooden frames of the windows, working their way rapidly to the corners in search of more fuel. In less than five minutes, the percentage of oxygen becoming too low inside, the fire moved upwards and outwards until the roofs blazed brightly against the dark sky. By eight minutes the weight of the floors and rafters exceeded what the weakened wood could bear. Ponies dashed about for their lives as the structures collapsed, the beams toppling into other buildings in a chain of destruction. The screams rose to a new, frenzied pitch proportional to the intensity of the heat.

But amid the cacophony, a clear sound carried through to my ears. It was singing, a single melody finding a way to lift itself out of the roaring inferno. I looked around, trying to pinpoint the source, and found the singer to be the red unicorn officer. Cherry Bounce’s lips moved gracefully, still pointed upward at the corners in her carefree smile. I could see the strain in her face, the smoke reddening the edges of her eyes, yet she still hobbled around, leading ponies away from the fire. Her spirit infected the ponies around her as their mouths moved with the same motions as hers.

My heart sank lower than I had ever felt it before. But I forced my way past it; I still had my duty to do.

I took a step towards Cherry Bounce and the Equestrian soldiers. My hoof caught the edge of something as I raised it. I looked down.

My father’s clay figurine had fallen through a hole in my pouch and lay at my hooves. The flames reflected off its polished surface, reddish light licking on the back of the zebra, its body wrapped tightly against the heat as it sheltered the little, star-marked filly. I froze where I stood, my eyes fixated on the miniature scene, then back to where Cherry Bounce stood between her ponies and the village my legionnaires had razed.

In that moment, I understood what was meant by my father’s duty, my duty, that wherever we saw the pure light of the Star’s blessing, the rare gift of the Star’s providence, it was our duty to protect and nourish that. I placed my figurine back into my pouch and secured it snuggly.

“We’ve completed the task, sir. What are your next orders?” Thito panted as she stood behind me. I could see the sweat and ash dripping in long streaks of black that mixed with the stripes on her face. I felt the same paths of damp ash on my face, except standing this far from the blaze I knew they weren’t formed from sweat.

“We need to round up the ponies and take them to the pear grove. There we will take care of them,” I said, still looking at Cherry Bounce.

“Sir?”

“Trust me, Thito.”

“Yes, sir,” Thito sounded resigned. I trotted over the ponies while Thito shouted to regroup the legionnaires. Cherry Bounce kept singing but turned her head to look at as I approached. She stopped singing to sigh; I felt as if all the joy in the world had been evaporated away by the fire that bleed through my tunic and burned into my fur.

“I suppose this is how zebras make friends,” she said. I winced at the remark.

“Major Cherry Bounce, if you please. It is time for your ponies to leave.” I stumbled in Ponish. Thito formed my legionnaires around the group of ponies, their bayonets fixed and pointed towards the ragged soldiers in khaki. “Let’s go,” I started to walk towards the pears.

“Come on you ponies, get moving,” Thito barked behind.

“Sergeant, they only speak Ponish.” I corrected Thito.

“Everypony, follow me,” Cherry Bounce said. Her tone was firm yet gentle, a surprising quality, but I was more surprised that she understood the intent of Thito’s order. The surprises continued as she walked up next to me and spoke, not in Ponish, but my own tongue.

“Klemenza, wasn’t it? You don’t have to do this, you know,” Cherry Bounce said, her accent heavy but oddly soothing.

“Um, yes. How do you know what I’m about to do?”

“It’s obvious, ever since your major introduced himself. You’ve already set fire to the village. And I am pretty sure what your next duty is,” Cherry Bounce said. “I’ve been trying to keep the spirits of my ponies up; they deserve that before they die.”

“You know Major Praeclarus?” I asked, ignoring the last half of her statement.

“Not personally, but one of my former lieutenants met him many years ago. He was a different zebra then, but from what she told me something changed in him after their encounter. Or perhaps it was always there and just came to the surface like my mention of my regiment did tonight.”

“He’s like a father to me,” I sighed, “But after tonight I don’t know if I really know him.”

“Did you know your father?” Cherry Bounce asked. The intimacy of her question took me aback, but also mellowed my heart.

“Yes, but he died shortly after I became an officer. I’ve dedicated myself to my duty ever since then. The Stars can be cruel, but that is the fact of life.”

“Then there’s no question of you doing your duty tonight, eh? I am assuming the pear groves are the place?” Somehow Cherry managed to keep a smile through her bleak statement. I tensed at her words.

“Yes,” I said, taking a breath before letting her know the truth of my duty. She interrupted before I could speak again.

“You know, your duty is more than what somepony, err, zebra, says. Or some oath you took, or some flag you march behind.” Cherry Bounce looked around at her ponies. “It is much more than that; you have to find it within yourself. For me, my duty is to spread the spirit I feel to those around me, to feed and foster that spark until it grows into a blaze, burning for joy. It’s why I became an officer, but it took somepony else to make me realize that.”

“Cherry Bounce …”

“Can I sing a song? For the ponies?”

“Yes, but I …” I closed my mouth as she started singing. Her voice was simple and some of the pitches wavered out of tune, yet there was a boldness and fullness in the way she traveled her scale, each note, each word, placed not with care but with spirit. It was the song of a mare who knew she was going to die but chose to live despite it. I wanted to interrupt her, to tell her my choice and that I knew what she meant. But I simply listened as we walked further into the cool shadows of the pears. She was a light in a dark place, a mare touched by the Stars themselves. And I knew my duty.

“Halt,” I commanded the mixed column. Cherry Bounce echoed my word in Ponish. She calmly arranged her ponies in formation as I did my zebras opposite them, then took her place at the front of the line. She drew her saber with her magic and presented it in a salute to me. I could see the tears glisten in her eyes. Even though I knew, it still broke my heart.

“Detachment will load, ARMS!” I commanded. My legionnaires loaded fresh charger clips into their rifles. “Make ready!” The ponies flinched at the snappy motions as the rifle’s actions clicked shut, except for Cherry Bounce. She held firm, still smiling behind her saber.

“I am glad to have met you, Lieutenant Klemenza. May the Stars be with you,” Cherry Bounce said. Her last words were chosen so well; I felt tears stream down my face.

“At 45 degrees, present!” The rifles angled into the night sky. “FIRE!” The volley was loud, it’s crackle echoing through the rows of pears. The sound still rang in my ears as I pulled my saber out and returned Cherry Bounce’s salute as the officer looked at me, her face aghast.

“And I am glad to have met you, Major Cherry Bounce. Avoid the road until you reach the next village. Until we meet again.” I held my salute until the pony major dropped hers. She gave me one last smile, then led her ponies into the night. I watched them as they cantered off through the hayfield, disappearing into the horizon where flashes of lightning and the guns of a distant artillery battle danced between the gathering storms.

The first drops of rain fell as Thito walked up beside me. Neither of us said anything as the downpour increased in intensity, soaking through our uniforms and into our fur.

“Why did you do that, sir?” Thito finally asked me.

“Because,” I said, turning my gaze to the glimmering specks of starlight that filtered through gaps in the storms. “It was my duty.”

Author's Note:

Theme: Zebras
By: Clarke Otterton

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[Salted Pingas]

May the laws of war always prevail