A Trot Through Vanhoover

by LieutenantExcellent

Chapter 3: The Morning After

“Ah! H-hooves up!”

…

“Okay, okay, don’t panic.”

“Nimble what is tha-,” she gasped.

“Just stay calm.”

“-I’ve never actually seen one this close.”

…

“What’s she trying to say?”

“I-I don’t know. Do you speak ponish? Are you hurt?”

…

“D-do you have a name?”

…

“It’s okay, we’re not gonna shoot.”

…

“What in Tartarus is going on over here?!”

“Oh! C-corporal! We found one.”

---

A cacophony of rumbling motors and whirring propeller blades cut through the morning air.

Nimble jolted awake letting out a startled whinny as the Typhoons flew right overhead. He fell over gasping, and after looking about the foxhole, barely illuminated by the meager light of dawn, he concluded that he was in fact, still alive and that the planes were friendly. The pony wheezed as he strived to catch his breath, a moment of panic fading. He turned to Roaring, still asleep as he had come to expect. Surprise and relief were quickly replaced with embarrassment and irritation after he began to hear the laughing from the foxhole to his left.

“That must be a new record Greenie! I think I could see you jump from over here!” The familiar voice of his batpony friend rang out between fits of laughter, “Maybe if you were awake you would’ve heard them coming earlier!”

“Hey!” Nimble sniped, “Those featherbrains are flying way too close!”

“It’s called close air support for a reason Greenie,” Pteri replied, “Besides, you gotta keep a cooler head if you’re gonna be the kind to take naps at the end of the shift.”

“Pteri!” he shot back as his face flushed, “I figured you’d be more stressed than me right now, considering the sun’s gonna come up soon and turn you into dust.”

“Hey I told you earlier, it’s your neck if you say that again!” She snapped back as her giggling came to an abrupt stop.

“Try me, fangs!” He shot back.

“Gladly!”

Nimble’s confidence evaporated as heard the extension and flapping of webbed wings. A grey-coated Thestral with a rosey mane landed in front of the foxhole, fangs bared.

“Hey! Get back to your hole! Night’s not over y-“ Nimble didn’t finish as Pteri pointed a hoof towards the rapidly rising sun behind her.

“Let’s have a little more situational awareness Nimble,” Pteri hissed with a smug smile, “You wouldn’t want to be off guard on watch," the batpony bared her fangs.

Nimble gritted his teeth, “What? No, you-“

“Shuddup over there!” A deep voice bellowed from three holes over. “Rise and shine foals, we’re moving out today. Everypony eat, pack up, and be ready for a briefing by 0700.” Sergeant Whitemane said as he addressed all five foxholes containing the ten soldiers under his command, who were promptly awake or in the process of getting up.

The massive stallion sergeant began to climb out of his hole before he would march across the perimeter, assessing his ponies as he always did when the day began like this. Old Whitemane himself was not to be tested. Celestia help the pony who wasn’t awake and ready during his morning assessment.

Pteri, in a moment of clarity, immediately flew back to her hole at what must have been the speed of light, very narrowly avoiding the scorn of the sergeant now moving in her direction. He passed by, his iron stare lingering at Pteri’s foxhole before walking past and coming to Nimble Green’s hovel.

“Private Nimble! Look alive! Roaring looks ready to kill an Ursa on command, and you look about ready to turn tail at the first sign of a roach!”

“Y-yes sir!” Nimble stammered out while standing to salute, feeling a hoof slap his back from behind.

“Thank you much Sarge!” Roaring Winds happily said with his characteristic Appleloosan drawl.

Nimble turned to face his now very much awake-looking squadmate. The southerner had a massive, knowing grin on his face that certainly didn’t look like it belonged to somepony who had just woken up.

It was going to be a long day.

---

The water in the cast-iron pot began to bubble as Nimble looked across the fire at Pteri. He received little but a glare in response.

“Lover’s quarrel?” Roaring said, the same goofy grin on his face as always.

“Buck off Roaring,” Nimble replied as he poured his oats into the pot, “You know, you could’ve said something if you weren’t really asleep, I could’ve had a proper nap.”

“Oh come on you got a catnap in,” Roaring laughed, “There’s no need to be so angry. We’re all the same rank here anyway. It’s not like relationships are gonna get you kicked out of the militia.”

Pteri bared her fangs.

“Easy Pteri! There’s no reason to be mad, I’m rooting for you two!” the orange stallion continued, clearly the most amused he had been in days, “We’ve all been serving together for what, three months? You two already sound like a bickering old married couple to the point where your arguing wakes me up early. That’s impressive!”

“Now, now, Roaring,” a calm and collected voice to Nimble’s left spoke up, “The two clearly wish to maintain their privacy. Though shouting at each other in the morning certainly isn’t the most effective method of doing so, we should respect their wishes.”

The voice belonged to Private Finishing Touches, a grey-coated unicorn with an equally grey mane and an equally grey voice, if such a thing existed. As the squad’s closest thing to nobility, he worked to keep himself composed, though this didn’t mean he was opposed to good fun. His Canterlotian accent showed that though he was more subtle about it, he was just as amused as Roaring.

“Really Finish? I thought we were friends,” Pteri said, betrayed.

“Why of course dear,” he said, giving a soft Canterlotian smile back that acted as laughter in its own right.

“Then stop encouraging him!” the batpony said.

“Can we eat breakfast? The oats are almost done!” Nimble suggested, “We haven’t been able to have a fire in days!”

“It’s okay Pteri, you can trust us. I’ll keep it all under wraps, Sarge won’t even know,” Roaring continued, completely ignoring Nimble.

“You’re gonna need some wraps if you keep this up!” Pteri fired back.

“Oats are done!” Nimble said, taking the pot off the fire and getting the bowl out of his mess kit.

“Hey now sister there’s no need for fightin’ words, save it for the bugs and your coltfriend,” Roaring chuckled, reaching over and grabbing the pot from Nimble before the private could pour any of the oatmeal into his bowl.

“Um, could we stop fighting and eat please?” a purple-coated pegasus to the left of Pteri said in a voice as soft as silk, “I haven’t had oatmeal in three days and I really would like to take my time to enjoy this.”

Private Feather Fleece was an odd pegasus. Despite coming from Las Pegasus, she was easily the quietest of the group, though you’d be a fool to confuse that for meekness. She was full of contradictions.

“Yes, yes, terribly sorry dear Fleece,” Finishing said, horn beginning to glow. The pot of oatmeal floated out of Roaring’s hooves just as he was about to pour his share into his bowl, settling into Fleece’s hooves a moment later, “These three make quite the ruckus when left in close proximity with nothing to do I’m afraid. I’m sure it’ll get better on the road.”

“But I-“ Nimble started.

“It’s okay Finish,” Fleece replied, looking over at Pteri with a sympathetic smile, offering her the oatmeal.

Pteri gave a final glare to Roaring before letting out an exasperated sigh as she accepted Fleece's gift and poured the oatmeal into her bowl, “Alright I’ll relax if he shuts up. For the record, I’d never be interested in a stallion who falls asleep during his watch anyway,” she smirked, glancing at Nimble.

Nimble, in total dejection at his lack of oatmeal, was far too preoccupied with staring at his empty bowl to reply.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry bats,” Roaring conceded, tossing an apple to the thestral before snatching the bowl out of Finishing’s hooves as it was about to become Nimble’s turn for a serving.

Pteri caught the fruit and proceeded to bite through the skin with her fangs. Within seconds the apple was a dehydrated husk. Roaring cringed at the sight.

“Apology accepted my dear friend,” Pteri smirked.

Roaring gave another laugh, more nervous than the last, “Th-that’s what it’s all about yeah? Friendship is magic after all! Just like the princess says,” he continued before trying to change the subject, “Hey, did I ever tell you about that time the elements came to my hometown? The rumors about the random musical numbers are actually completely true!”

As Roaring went on another one of his stories, his voice faded into oblivion as he passed the pot to Nimble who was only focused on retrieving his rightfully earned breakfast.

There was probably about half a serving left.

---

Nimble Green stumbled his way up the hill, nearly tripping over himself several times in the process. He had decided to join the ponies from the other half of the squad in meeting the sergeant early. After all, he felt that sitting at a campfire without any breakfast would only serve to make his situation more miserable.

“Hey Green!” a cheery voice called from the side.

“Why do you look so-“an ever so slightly lower voice followed.

“-blue?” the two voices finished in harmony.

Nimble looked up to see the Stableside Sisters on the verge of bursting out in laughter.

“Didn’t get a good night’s sleep, or a good morning’s breakfast for that matter,” Nimble said unassumingly. It was always best to play it straight with those two.

“Poor Nimble,” Soprano, the elder sister called.

“Always drawing the shortest straw,” Alto, the younger followed.

“The worst luck,”

“The sorriest of fates,”

“The first to fall asleep,”

“The last to get oats,”

“Okay, I get it!” Nimble cut them off.

The two earth pony sisters grinned. They didn’t actually possess the name Stableside, but adopted it after their quick attitudes and heritage in the busy city bought them the title.

“How much of that were you watching earlier anyway?” Nimble questioned.

“Just enough!” Soprano giggled.

“In fact, we were just in the middle of devising a business venture related to your plight,” Alto added.

“Business venture?” Nimble questioned.

“Why yes Nimble, we happened to notice that Roaring, the dastardly and dreadful stallion that he is, took a large portion of your rightfully requisitioned oats! I have a solution for you my dear friend!” the mare said, pulling an orange-colored container out of her saddlebag.

“Is that-“

“The last carrot ration any of us will see for weeks? Possibly,” Soprano smirked.

Nimble perked up immediately at the mention of carrots, one of his greatest vices and comforts.

“All we ask for is an exchange of sorts; we understand that you’re one of the few ponies still in the possession of one of the boxes of sugar cubes we received from those nice folk in Tall Tale,” Alto said.

“You two want to trade for it? I’ll do it,” Nimble quickly replied, a hint of desperation in his tone.

“We weren’t thinking trade as much as we were thinking-“ Alto began.

“-a friendly game of Appleloosa hold em’!” the other sister finished, pulling out a deck of cards from her pack.

Nimble sighed, “Not again with you two, I’m already down twenty bits since last week’s game.”

“Aw, come on Nimble, you can’t win if you don’t play! We’ll even use Baltimare rules. It’ll be fun!” Soprano pleaded.

“Nobody wins with you two playing,” Nimble replied, his hopes of anything good happening this morning dashed.

Alto frowned, “That’s not true! Just two weeks ago, Feather-“

“Will you foals quiet down?” A bitter voice spat in their direction, “I’m trying to take in the view.”

Nimble turned to see more familiar faces at the summit of the hill. Corporal Acorn Leap scowled at the trio for a moment before turning back to look down from the hill at last night’s battlefield. The earth pony had a light-yellow coat accompanied by a brown mane. Acorn Leap may have seemed rather unassuming at a first glance, but it was known across the squad that he had been involved in the conflict longer than anypony, except perhaps Sergeant Whitemane.

Acorn Leap always carried himself in a way that made Nimble uncomfortable. Acorn hadn’t exactly made a point of becoming friends with the rest of the squad. He rarely played cards or even made conversation when it wasn’t necessary. In fact, Nimble only ever saw the corporal making any kind of casual conversation with the sergeant and the two ponies that flanked him.

Despite his asocial tendencies, Acorn was often followed by a thestral private named Noche and a black-coated unicorn named Ivory Arrow. Noche was the only other thestral besides Pteri in the unit, but was nowhere near as sociable. Ivory was much of the same in mannerisms, and often kept to himself. Nimble wasn't even sure where the unicorn was from.

Nimble hadn’t spoken to any of the three very much since their unit was formed, and it seemed as though they preferred to keep it that way. That trio shared a role as grenadiers for the squad, and they appeared to operate on the same wavelength, one that Nimble simply didn't comprehend.

Despite the ice-cold reception, Nimble decided to continue on to the summit of the hill, taking advantage of his chance to escape the Stableside Sisters, now discouraged by Acorn’s reprimand. The corporal’s rank wasn’t much higher, but he often carried some unspoken authority that had a way of commanding respect from the other ponies. After a brief trot to the summit, Nimble finally took in the same view that Acorn Leap had been staring at.

Smoke. One could see as far as what seemed like miles ahead from this position, but what caught Nimble’s eye most was the sheer amount of smoke. Panthers, now twisted and burning metallic bonfires, littered the fields. Even from here, Nimble could see that portions of the fields were littered with quadrupedal bodies. The trenches formed long lacerations in the earth that stretched on and on across the land, already peppered by countless craters and areas scorched by the brush fires. If you had told Nimble that this was Equestria several years ago, he never would have believed you.

Still, the sun shined down all the same. There was no terrifying storm or darkness to accompany the scene. The sky was a beautiful cerulean that looked no different than it had years ago. It was almost insulting, the way that the pleasant morning sunshine illuminated the carnage below.

“Looks, like the Typhoons did pretty good work,” Acorn said, a half-smile on his face.

“Yeah,” Noche replied.

Nimble continued to stand with the trio overlooking the site for several minutes that felt like an hour. Slowly, the rest of the squad began to come to the summit one by one. As each came to the same vista, sounds of conversation faded. Even Roaring, caught in another one of his tales was brought to silence for a moment, overlooking last night's consequences.

The silence was eventually broken by a resounding “Attention!”

All ponies turned to face Sergeant Whitemane, the leader standing tall before them. He was an older stallion, though the mane of his namesake was nothing resembling an elderly or weak individual. He had a coat the color of a stormcloud, perfectly matching the tempered mix of confidence and experience he exude.

“Fillies and gentlecolts, we’ve come far,” the stallion started, “You’ve all served Equestria well. We’ve come all the way from Las Pegasus, fighting to take back our lands, our homes, and our very lives.”

“If by fighting you mean a whole lot of walking and digging holes!” Roaring shouted from the crowd. Several ponies laughed, and even the sergeant smirked. All laughing was cut short when Roaring was ordered to do hoof-ups for the remainder of the briefing.

“Yes Private, we’ve been playing catch up with the frontline for months now, and we’ve had it pretty easy,” Whitemane said, “All of that is about to change. Equestria’s pushed back hard, and there’s already talk of ponies crossing the border.”

“But sir,” Finishing Touches interjected, “If the changelings are already pushed that far back, then what was the situation last night?”

“I was getting to that Canterlot, I recommend you don’t interrupt me again,” Sergeant Whitemane smirked, glancing at Roaring, his speed on each hoof up starting to slow, “The bugs we fought last night are cut off from the rest of Chrysalis’s roaches. They’re running back to the only port they have left in our country, and we have them encircled. General Soarin himself has given our division the job of closing the pocket and securing the last major occupied city in the Equestria. We’re going to Vanhoover.”

Nimble along with the rest of the squad exchanged nervous glances, with the exception of Roaring who was sweating profusely as his form became worse with each repetition.

“So we’re finally going to do something besides sit behind the line and shoot at hills?” Acorn Leap said with a grin.

“Correct Corporal,” Sergeant Whitemane said before again addressing the entire squad, “We’re going to be experiencing urban combat unlike most of you have ever seen. The bugs aren’t going to give up easily. There’s a lot of good ponies in Vanhoover, and they’re relying on us to set em’ free. If anypony wants to be a hero, now’s your chance.”

Roaring Winds collapsed into a pile on the ground.

“Pegasi forward parties have set up a nice spring day for us. We have orders to begin moving forward with the rest of the battalion effective immediately. Pack up your saddlebags and be ready to move in ten minutes. Dismissed!”

The ponies of the squad murmured amongst themselves about the implications of their assignment. The Stableside Sisters no longer appeared to be in the mood for cards. Finishing Touches and Feather Fleece exchanged a few calm words, but the looks in their eyes showed a growing anxiety. They had all known that they’d pass through Vanhoover, but now that the moment was approaching, it grew apparent to the party that they’d be the ones on the front lines this time.

The changelings weren’t going to be retreating further back into their own country. They were trapped in Equestria, and would hold the city to the end. Any hope of walking through an abandoned Vanhoover was gone.

Nimble had complained plenty about digging foxholes and marching everyday, but in reality he knew it was vastly preferable to fighting in a city. He heard stories about what happened in places like Vanhoover in the early days of the war. Times like those changed ponies and the lands they lived in, often irreparably. Tall Tale came to mind.

Acorn Leap appeared to be in better spirits than before the briefing, and was actually engaging in eager discussion with Noche and Arrow. He looked as though he was an excited foal eagerly waiting outside a movie theater for a new showing.

Nimble glanced down at Roaring beside him, still catching his breath. He turned to look out over last night’s battlefield once more. Soon he’d be walking amidst that same wreckage, and later he would become a key participant in its creation. A sense of dread overcame him, but was broken as he felt something brush up against his side. Something was thrust into his saddlebags.

Nimble turned to see Pteri walking by with a smirk on her face. He checked his saddlebags immediately. There was an orange-colored package in the left posterior bag that hadn’t been there before.

It was a carrot ration.

Comments

[shining paladin]

awesome chapter mate keep it up cant wait for the next chapter

[Northern Star]

Will it continue?