The Equestrian Civil War

by Sleepyted

Ambush at the Northen Pass

Nightshade normally loved the rain.

Sitting inside her home, a hot coco in her hooves and an overly fluffy blanket surrounding her like a cocoon. Maybe, if she wanted to treat herself, she would light the fire and toast herself.

But right now the only drink she had on hand that wasn’t the water with malaria tablets making them taste like crap, was the cold coffee she was given to keep her awake. And instead of her blanket that was fluffier than a gerbil, she now had probably the scratchiest thing she think could exist now draped over her. She was soaked through with rain, chilling her to the bone with the wind shear that was able to get into the muddy hole she was in.

She was cramped, cold and miserable. She wasn’t even able to light a fire to keep warm lest it give away her position.

She was a forward guard, stuck in a foxhole off the side of the road alone. She was given a fair amount of kit to take with her but if the enemy did attack she wouldn’t really be able to use it much before she was shot, stabbed or blown up. She had her standard bolt action rifle, currently leaning against the wall of her hole, a few grenades that she kept suspended out of the mud and water by having stabbed her knife into the dirt wall and hanging them off it. The last thing she was given was something she wouldn’t have really expected, an Anti-Armour Rifle.

It was huge, not even being able to fit in the hole without the somewhat more delicate internals from getting crap loads of mud in them. The bat couldn’t help but feel it was a bit overkill, since each bullet was over half an inch in thickness not to mention that she heard from the others that it kicked like a mule.

She was also given a crystal: a magic infused crystal. It was linked to an array at the FOB to act as a warning instead of shooting up a flare and giving away your position if there wasn’t a need for it or, in a much darker case, wouldn’t be able to escape back to base to give warning. All you needed to do was break it and it would cause its pair to shatter as well with a loud crash.

Looking down at her supplies she saw the small tin of shitty pumpkin ravioli. They tasted like the gunk in the treads of a boot shoved inside cardboard, not to mention the ‘sauce’ could be considered a war crime if it was supplied to POWs. And that was when it was hot. When cold it congealed into a jelly, a nasty slime.

But right now it was looking mighty appetising.

Reaching down to the mud covered tin, the bat pulled out the little metal tab taped to the side of the tin and slotted it into the slot on the top, slowly twisting it to peel the cap back.

The rain pouring down made things a bit worse, splashing down into the tin and causing Nightshade to hunch over in hopes of the water not ruining her dinner, although wasn’t the most successful. Grabbing her government issued fork she stabbed it into the nasty gunk before bringing it to her mouth.

It felt like eating mud, coating her mouth with its thick flavour, but at this moment anything to fill the cold hole in her stomach was good. At least on an upside, it was over seasoned with garlic so at least it helped cover up the otherwise unpleasant aspects.

Her mother tended to have a tendency to over season foods. Be it salt on potatoes or garlic in a pasta sauce. Nightshade used to get really annoyed when she couldn’t taste anything but the pick of the day when it came to ingredient, looking forward to a nice stir-fry or ratatouille but BOOM, nothing but pepper.

But right now, while sat in a cold muddy hole and rained down to the bone, she would give her wings to just be back at home with her family having dinner with them again. They weren’t the biggest fans of her volunteering for the rebellion, but all the ponies she knew in town were signing up, and since it was for the equal rights of thestrials, she kind of felt obligated since she was one.

But now, seeing the reality of the situation, with her being stuck in muddy trenches and holes while defending the wettest part of Equestria. No one wanted to attack through here. The roads were muddy and couldn’t support trucks and tanks were too heavy and would slip down the many slopes. And with the war going on pegisi stopped going up to manage the weather with the threat of a sniper taking a pot shot at them on either side.

Stabbing her fork again into the gelatinous mush, she gave herself another mouthful to munch down on. Looking up from her food and rumination she scanned over the brown and grey area she found her hole in.

A flash of colour down the road made her drop her meal, along with her only fork.

Quickly grabbing her rifle she scrambles to the edge of her foxhole, leaning on the edge and aiming down the dirt road.

The bat scanned over the area, keeping an eye out for whatever she just saw but wasn’t able to. All she could hear was her breathing and the rain ‘tinking’ off her steel helmet.

She was about to lower back down in her hole and salvage what she could from her meal until she saw another movement, and this time with her gun at the ready and looking for it, she was able to see what it was.

It was an earth pony in an olive green uniform, flat steel helmet atop their head. They were running between trees and bushes, rifle in their hooves as they looked around quickly and urgently. They were alone.

Nightshade quickly brought her shaky rifle to aim at the pony in the distance, hard to tell many details about them with the rain covering the world with a grey haze. Why were they here? Why were they alone in their territory? But it quickly came to her. If the rebellion had forward scouts to keep an eye out on their enemy, why wouldn’t they too?

Quickly reaching down into her hole she grabbed the crystal, the faintest of glows coming from it as she brought it down hard into the ground.

Swearing under her breath as all it did was imbed it into the mud she brought it back out before bringing it up to her helmet, crushing it with her hoof against it. As she felt the shards gently patter against the shoulder of her wet uniform, she aimed down her rifle again.

It took a moment to find the scout again, taking aim at him once more.

The rain had been drowned out, the only thing she could hear was the hammering in her ears. Ever so slowly, she pulled on the trigger lever under the gun…

‘BANG’

A tree a few feet to the side of the scout had a chunk of it spray splinters out.

It took a few moments for the scout to look at the tree, the rain covering up a lot of sounds but when they saw the bullet hole he quickly dove behind another tree, scrambling for cover.

Cursing out, the bat quickly grabs for the bolt, her mud covered hooves struggling to gain purchase. Racking it, she took aim at the tree the scout was hiding behind, trying to see if she could spot him trying to move or aim back.

It took what felt like hours but was only a few moments before she heard a bang herself, the but near her hole kicking up and splattering. She saw the briefest glimpses of a flash and she took aim at the bush it came from before snapping off another shot at it.

Quickly loading another bullet into the chamber she took aim at the same bush. She waited, seeing if there was any movement, any sign of retaliation but there wasn’t any.

Unsure of what to do, the bat hesitantly climbed out of her cover, slipping in the mud as she brought her rifle up again at the bush, moving at a snail’s pace as she got closer and closer.

Slowly, she got closer. Slowly she approached.

She finally saw the colour of the olive garb, and on reflex she shot at it, the weak grip on her rifle causing it to fly out of her hooves before clattering to the wed dirt road. Jumping back she was about to run back to her safe and wet hole but stopped, seeing as no movement came from the other pony.

Carefully she approached again, peering around the bush.

They were laid down, face down in the mud and unmoving. There was now a hole in their back, the uniform stained red from where her scared shot went. But the more she looked she also saw the helmet at the back of his head was peeled back, exposing the-

The bat quickly stumbled back, vomit escaping her maw as she retched. The parts of the pumpkin ravioli were quickly washed away with the rain, the bat refusing to look back at the bush. She stumbled back to her hole, falling in and shivering in disgust.

She knew she had to do it, he would have killed her otherwise. But she couldn’t get the sick feeling out of her stomach. Grabbing her canteen she pulled out the cork and poured some in her mouth. Swishing it about, she spat it to the side.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, her mind running a million miles a second. Who were they? What was his name? What family did he have? Who would never know what happened to their loved one?

Shaking her head, the bat slapped herself in the face a few times, trying to calm herself down.

But included in all these invasive thoughts, was one that quickly became more and more clear. Why was he alone?

Then it quickly dawned on her that he most likely wasn’t and that others would be coming.

She realised she dropped her rifle, and peering over the edge of her foxhole she couldn’t find it, now that it was covered in mud and rained on. What she did see was more movement down the road.

Quickly she grabbed the only other weapon she had on hand, the giant Boyes rifle.

Hefting it off its box, she put the bipod on the edge of the foxhole, aiming down the road. Grabbing a tin box she opened it up, pulling out the massive magazine inside before removing the cover off the top of the gun. Slapping in the ammunition and giving it a smack on top to make sure it was in there securely.

Racking the long bolt action back she fed a round into the chamber and took position.

Unlike all other guns she had used, this one had its sights along the side. She had her cheek rested on a wooden cheek rest, and while normally her left hoof would be holding the front of the gun, this one had a big handle underneath the stock you were meant to hold onto to keep the gun steady.

Aiming down once ready she saw the approaching solders a lot more clearly. There were quite a lot of them, walking either side of the road and a vehicle coming up behind with them. She couldn’t tell what it was.

Taking aim down the way at the closest pony on her side of the road she steadily pulled the lever back.

The kick that went to her shoulder was unlike something she’s felt before, knocking the wind from her lungs. It felt like someone had just bucked her right in the chest.

Quickly sliding the bolt she doesn’t even wait to see if her shot had any affect, just aiming at the next pony she saw before pulling the trigger again.

Another shot and another bruise to her shoulder, another hot case ejected out from under the gun and into the mud.

The approaching enemies knew they were being shot at now, quickly taking cover either side of the road as the vehicle continued to approach. It became clearer, a halftrack. The big boxy front was a dead giveaway, and so was the automatic gun on top opening fire down the road.

The bat ducked, hearing the crack of machinegun fire but she noted that it was going all over the place. They didn’t know her position yet.

Loading in another shot into the chamber she took aim at the halftrack, letting loose a shot at it. She saw the sparks shoot off it half a second later, the shot hitting squarely in the centre of the ‘window’. There was no glass though, the whole thing being metal with only small slits either side as the only form of sight out of the things.

Realising that all that shot would have done is scare the driver, since there wasn’t any seats in the middle, she quickly got ready with another shot. This time she took aim at the left vision slit, taking a second to steady herself before pulling the trigger again.

Sparks shoot off a few inches below the slit, but it kept coming.

Another shot, this time at the right, made the vehicle swerve, stopping after a few more feet.

Racking back she took aim towards the gunner now that the vehicle was closer and more visible, but it seemed that they had seen her too.

Bullets started smacking into the mud around her, the sound deafening. She tried to aim while keeping herself as low as possible while also trying to aim. Quickly she yanked on the trigger.

‘CLICK’

She quickly counted in her head.

“Fuck!” She cursed, quickly ducking back into her hole to grab another box, with another magazine.

Yanking out the old mag and throwing it to the side she quickly fumbled to put another one in. Once the gun was loaded again, and slide used, she took aim again. It was a lot easier to aim at the gunner now the vehicle was still, but it seemed the gunner was all too aware of this as well and kept a constant stream of lead on her.

She couldn’t find a moment to properly stick her head out and aim, the fire keeping her in her muddy cover as bullets stream around her. But all of a sudden, they stop.

Peering out from her hole, she vaguely saw the gunner fumbling with their gun. The bat took that moment to aim down her rifle again, letting loose a shot. All she could really see was the gunner flinch back but soon got back to what he was doing again.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself she carefully took aim, squinting. Slowly she pulled on the lever, the piece of metal slowly moving backwards until.

‘SNAP!’

Her sore shoulder was hit with another smash with a hammer, gun kicking like a mule. She could see the shot connect with its target. While all she could really see with the weather as bad as it was, was the gunner recoil back, with what looked like the right half of their chest recoiling in another direction before falling into the halftrack.

Now she was no longer hyper focused on the vehicle she quickly noted that the bullets impacting around her hadn’t stopped and the large number of flashes coming out from the woods either side of the road.

She could start to hear voices, but not make out what they were saying. They were getting closer.

Quickly she reached for one of the too grenades hanging from the hole wall, yanking it off. Since they were hung by the knife through the pins, all she really needed to do was to throw it.

Winding her arm back she quickly threw it as hard and far as she could into the forest. A few seconds later it detonated.

She heard the loud bang as the explosion ripped through trees, hearing the splintering wood followed by more shouts. Grabbing hold of the next grenade she threw it to the other side of the road, followed quickly by the same result.

The only thing she really had left was the knife and the massive and unwieldy rifle.

She took the gun up again and tried to aim down again, but she couldn’t see any ponies directly she just fired randomly into the bushes, not knowing if she ever hit anything.

Soon she was greeted by the dreaded click again. Reaching down again for another mag she found there wasn’t any, the only other boxes were the stripper clips for her regular rifle, the rifle no longer with her.

“Fuck fuck fuck…” Nightshade started to panic, quickly grabbing the knife and falling into her hole, clutching onto it for dear life as she tried to think of what to do.

She could try to run for it. But at this point they were too close and she would quickly shoot her down before she even made it half a dozen steps. She could wait for them to charge her position, but she knew they’d shoot her before she’d be able to spring out with her knife.

Her thinking came to a halt when something heavy thudded down into the mud near her.

She saw the glint of the metal ball just in front of her.

On instinct she quickly grabbed it and threw it in a random direction from her hole. Not even a second after it let her hoof did it explode.

She was quickly slammed backwards into the but, air knocked from her chest. Soon followed a burning, and looking down she soon found her uniform darken around the tiny holes peppering along it. Scrambling in panic she clutched at her chest, but there were too many.

Blood soaked into her hooves, quickly washed away with the rain and mud.

She could feel the pain shooting through her body but it felt so far away, a shock to her system.

She tried to scramble away, but where to? She’s in a hole. Muddy and alone.

The yells of the others got more and more distant, the bat’s head falling back.

Her eyes focused to the sky, the greys all blurring together.

She always loved the rain.