The Adventures of Dobbelsteen Moerman

by TheDiceMan0407

Bewegungskrieg

July 13th 1010, 02:23

Dobbelsteen’s Junkers 52 Civilian Airliner

Somewhere over Western Equestria

Moerman wasn’t going to risk turning the lights back on.

Having to continuously fly through the clouds was a challenge all on its own. The route he had to take was practically comical, forgoing any set azimuth and simply going a general direction, bouncing from one cloud formation to the next to keep hidden. Now, throw in attempting to read a map in the darkness of his cabin?

Well… just because something is unpleasant, doesn’t mean it's impossible.

With the gentle glow of the instruments in the cockpit , Dobbelsteen was able to navigate over large swaths of Forests and plains, stretching out beyond the horizon could show him. Only in the distance towards the East could he glimpse the Unicorn Range mountains. Turning his eyes back to the map, he managed to glimpse the city of Tall Tale. Though quite a measurable distance from Vanhoover towards the south, it was the only urban area marked upon the map between the two.

The Major squinted. An expansive river cut across the vast plains, from the mountains towards the coast, and right through Tall Tale. Well, at least there was something to go off of.

On the dashboard, pinned next to the speedometer, a crude illustration of the Major fighting a battle on a small piece of paper gently flapped with the air in the cockpit. The same one given to him by Grover, as evident by the crude signing of his name in the corner.

Static came from the radio, only for a brief moment.

The Griffon folded up the map, quickly checking his bearing once more, before gently adjusting the radio on the console. His eyes darted around the windows, yet he wasn’t able to see anything with the gentle illumination of the moon and stars above.

“....fied Aircraft, Identify yourself.”

“Aircraft, JU-52 passenger airliner,” Moerman stated into the radio, briefly clearing his throat. “Uh… where are you?”

Swiftly cutting through the air over Moerman’s airplane, a small, agile fighter aircraft practically spun into position on the left of his airplane, the cockpit windows of both aircraft level with one another. “Up and About.” The radio said once again. “You fly quietly for a Civilian Airliner.”

The Griffon only squinted, able to make out the markings of Equestria’s flag on the tail of the light brown colored fighter. He mumbled to himself in confusion. “Sentinel’s sending out fighters on their own?”

“Hardly any choice with the numbers we have. Scouting's all we’re good for so far.” The radio paused for a moment but kept transmitting. “Sentinel, you said?”

Flicking on one of the cabin lights, Dobbelsteen grabbed his lever action rifle in his claw and gently held it up in view, along with himself dressed, although loosely, in his field-service officer’s uniform. “Name’s Moerman. Coming down from Salt Lick.”

“Salt Lick? That’s a rough go of it.” The lights of the fighter also flicked on. The pilot, whose pegasi wings could be slightly glimpsed folded in the back, had a light blue coat that somewhat resembled the afternoon sky, or perhaps crystal blue water. His mane, brown as the coat of paint on his plane, was styled in a side part. “I’m Sky Catcher, Mar…Moe…Wow, that’s a difficult name.”

Dobbelsteen just shook his head.

“Where are you going now?”

“Tall Tale.” Moerman sighed, setting the rifle down and glancing back at his instruments. “I don't have the best direction, given that the retreat from Salt Lick was hasty, but I plan to follow the river that flows through it once I meet it.”

“Well Aren’t you in luck.” The pilot gave a noticeable smirk. “The finest pilot in Equestria happens to be going there as well.”

The Griffon kept quiet about the noticeable pile of spent brass casings that still littered the carpet of his aircraft, and managed to swallow his urge to brag. “Well, I’ll follow you then, Sky Catcher.”

“Just…One question, Mr.”

“Hm?”

“That uh, That is YOUR plane, right?”

There was a noticeable silence.

“I stole it in Griffonia a long time ago.”

“...As long as it wasn’t Equestria.”

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July 13th 1010, 09:45

13th Changeling Jaeger Division

Somewhere South of Vanhoover

“I want to know where that plane went, and who was in it.”

Colonel Zellix’s hooves wrapped around his binoculars, surveying the horizon as two Captains of the Changeling Heer stood behind him, shifting in place. His gray eyes remained forward, but not his attention. “Anyday, now.”

“We…” One officer cleared his throat. “We don’t know, sir.” Behind them, smoke rose from the flames that engulfed a farmhouse, the road leading away from it and further south carrying trucks of Changeling soldiers.

“General Elvir Roland’s armored corps has advanced at a rate unprecedented in the history of warfare, if his reports are to be believed” Zellix lowered his binoculars, gazing at the road. “I can certainly believe them. What I cannot believe-” he turned to face the officers, “Is your failure. Total air supremacy. Overwhelming firepower. Our orders of course were not to advance further than Salt Lick, as the land is of no use to us.” His eyes narrowed.

“The city was taken, sir.” The other officer said. A certain striped ribbon seemed to give him the confidence to contradict Zellix, compared to his fellow Captain, who sought to hide from his glare. “With minimal damage, the enemy cannot possibly reform their troops in the swamps south of Salt Lick.”

Zellix only tilted his head, a contorted look of disgust upon his face. “Equestrian Artillery halted Roland’s forces for nine days. Nine. Days.” He leaned forward, the confident look on the Captain slowly diminishing. “Who knows how many untold soldiers were able to flee Vanhoover in that window of time? The inability of you all to prevent the movement of an Artillery unit in the forest, guarded by routed infantry, is incompetence on the highest level.” He glared particularly at the opposite Captain. “Grounds to be summarily shot.”

A sharp intake of breath was noticeably taken by the decorated Captain, while the other took an instinctive step back away from the Colonel. Zellix turned, brushing his silver mane out of his eyes and bringing up his binoculars. “The Jaegers have been attached to Roland’s forces. Perhaps honor can be regained through proximity.”

The wind carried his words to the ears of the officers. In the silence, the flames of the farmhouse behind them intensified with the wind, as the roof collapsed. Zellix kept staring forward.

“The fields mean nothing to us. Tall Tale is your chance to redeem yourselves. Dismissed.”

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July 13th 1010, 09:56

11th Equestrian Combat Engineer Division

Tall Tale City Center

Moerman couldn’t bring himself to look away from the train station. Though one of many within the city of Tall Tale. Lined up down the steps, on sidewalks, and around city blocks, ponies waited in silence. Amidst the rapid movement of uniformed soldiers and police on the streets, these ponies kept to the sidewalks. Most looked down at the pavement. Some looked towards the soldiers, who certainly weren’t being picked up by train. Some took it upon themselves to distract the fillies and foals.

Thankfully, he was jolted out of his trance by Sky Catcher, the pilot choosing to look forward. “He’s around here somewhere. That old stallion refuses to sleep to get these defenses prepared.” His hoof gently adjusted his tan vest. “...As you can see, it's not much.”

“Nowhere near enough,” Dobbelsteen said, prying his eyes away from the station as they entered a park, now a city of tents and stashed military equipment. Following Sky Catcher, Dobbelsteen entered the largest tent, his claw still wrapped around the strap of the lever action across his back.

“If these roads can’t be effectively covered with our garrison, pile any obstacles on them that you can.” An older stallion, with graying black hair, stood at the head of the tent, gazing upon a map of Tall Tale. “We’ll have to arm our snipers and distance them on their own. If we can store them on the top floors, their view over the streets should assist our ground forces.”

A mare, whose mane was a light pink, spoke to catch his attention. “Sir… we don’t have any snipers.” She sighed. “Or dedicated marksponies of any caliber.”

“...Arm the fireponies. If the police can be converted into our local garrison, so can they.” Gazing up from the map with the intake of light from the tent’s flap opening, the older stallion looked only half-amused. “I was hoping you’d be shot down, not bring back friends.”

Sky Catcher gave a small smile. “Yeah… sorry to disappoint, sir.” He turned to his previously mentioned ‘friend’. “Mr. Moerman, this is Lieutenant General Bucket. Commander of the defense of Tall Tale.”

Dobbelsteen mustered a smile of his own, though a bit forced to cover the expression he wore through the streets of this city. He extended his claw across the table. “Major. Pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m here to-”

“Waste my time, most likely.” Lt. General Bucket only brought his hoof to his head, rubbing it. “You’ve flown off course, Major, so I’ll help you get back to where you need to be.” His gaze turned back to the map. “Maud Pie is bringing whatever forces she could muster north to reinforce Sentinel’s new defensive line north of here. She leaves in an hour.”

Moerman slowly retracted his claw, meeting the awkward gazes of the rest of the table. He brought it back down to the floor with a nod. “Understood, sir.”

“Was there anything else?”

“...Yes, sir.” Moerman glanced back out of the tent. “Do you know if any reinforcements are being brought here from elsew-”

“No, Major.” He brought his eyes to glare up from the map. “Any request regarding reinforcements and additional support is sent through a chain of command of Officers. Mine have already been sent, and a request on the specifics of me doing my job is not something I will indulge in.” He tilted his head. “Anything else?”

Dobbelsteen retracted away from the table, meeting the eyes of the rest of the table. He shook his head, “No, no sir.”

Without a word, Bucket looked back down to the map. Moerman still brought his claw up to a salute before exiting the room. Sky Catcher followed close behind, as they exited the park and back out onto the street. “Sweet Celestia, Mr. Moerman. That went rougher than expected… since when are you a Major?”

“I’ve had worse, from worse,” Dobbelsteen said, adjusting the bandoliers to fit better under his wings. “I don’t think I would take too kindly to an officer questioning me, either.” He gazed down the street. “Certainly not in an invasion of my home.”

Sky nodded, a hoof parting through his brown mane. “Where will you go?”

“Find this General ‘Maud’, but first I need to see Sentinel face to face.” The Griffon adjusted the sunglasses on his beak, turning to face his blue-coated pegasi friend fully. “I’ve been on the outskirts of the conflict so far. An examination of the wider general advance would help to understand how this war is being conducted.”

Taking a hoof step back, Sky Catcher only contorted his face. “You’re going back? On your own?” He swiftly shook his head. “Your uniform isn’t even anything like an Equestrian, let alone a pilot. Why would you go towards the frontline?”

“I’ve been sent by the Griffonian Empire at the request of Twilight Sparkle. My job is to analyze the combat capabilities of the Changelings and discover or develop a strategy to defeat them.”

A pause echoed between them all.

“...You’re a pathological liar, aren’t you?”

Holding his gaze for a moment, Dobbelsteen only gave a nod to Sky Catcher and extended his blonde-feathered wings. “Thanks for the escort, Sky. Hopefully, I’ll see you again.” With a quick claw-salute, he took flight off into the air.

Sky’s gaze shot upwards, as the Griffon flew to find the frontline. “You… YOU WERE LYING, RIGHT?”

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July 13th 1010, 15:45

4th Equestrian Infantry Division

200km North of Tall Tale

“If my intentions were more sinister,” called Moerman, as he walked along the wooden boards that branched over the top of the trench line. “I would have you abducted and taken back to Griffenheim to build ours.”

Thunderbolt Sentinel only laughed, trotting forward as Moerman followed close behind. “Quite the honor coming from you, I’m sure of it. I wish I shared your enthusiasm.” The view of rolling hills and distant forests was obstructed by the fog that had settled, despite the illumination of the sun attempting to burn through it. Stepping down into the trenches, soldiers stepped aside to allow them both through.

Turning a corner into and ducking under one of the land bridges, the small hovel that Sentinel considered an office was lit only by lanterns. Maps and plans adorned the wall, most of them annotated extensively. “My creations won’t live long like this, Major.” Sentinel took off his officer's cap which covered his red and yellow mane. “Neither will my soldiers.”

“The advancement of the Changeling surely can’t keep up with this speed, Sentinel.” Dobbelsteen gave a glance at the maps. “There’s bound to be enough time to be reinforced with Artillery support at the very least.”

Sentinel shook his head. “Miracles may happen on your part, Maerman, but they won’t work for me. Any amassed Artillery bombardment must be approved by the Divisional commanders who are tasked to lead them.”

“It’s not Maer-” In the lantern-lit room, even behind his sunglasses, Sentinel could see Moerman’s eyes go wide in realization. “They’re… they’re not withholding Artillery support, are they?”

“Indeed, Major.” Thunderbolt shifted his hoof over towards his desk, withdrawing an envelope and storing it in his uniform. “Artillery Commanders as they are now have placed their belief of front-wide bombardment coordinated to halt the Changeling advance. It's why Selenite had to make the journey from Salt Lick for us to have a chance against Roland.”

“That’s ludicrous, General.” Dobbelsteen adjusted the sling of his rifle. “The Changelings attack at specific points and pour in through there. Front-Wide bombardment won't help if they’re already fifty kilometers past it.”

Thunderbolt didn’t respond. His eyes remained on the map.

Dobbelsteen’s wings flickered in confusion for a moment, before settling back down. “Sir.” He said, catching his gaze. “They’re putting you here to die.”

“I know.” His hoof slightly shifted, as he glanced down at the insignia of Equestria that was stitched upon it. “Makes no difference to soldiers like us, Mare-...Uh, Moerman.” He flicked his head to the side. “But not all of them are soldiers. I don’t know what else to do to…” The pony gave a heavy sigh, before looking back towards the map. “The defenses I have are extremely in-depth. I have them in intervals, Major. If one is overrun, ponies should be able to retreat to the next in time.”

“...What if they don't?”

“...I suppose that’s why you’re here, Moerman.” Thunderbolt gave a small smile. “If what Selenite told is me true, if you can…” He lost his words for a moment, searching for the right thing to say. “Find a way to stop them. I’ll be the first to back you up.”

Dobbelsteen froze for the moment. “Heh.” He said, breaking into a smile. “It’s the first time a General officer said he’d have my back.”

“Welcome to Equestria.” Sentinel grinned, placing his Officer's cap back on his head. “For now, though… It's why I’ve placed my command at this trench, as forward in the line as possible. Maybe General Maud can create something in Tall Tale, but if we’re limited on our guns and losing air superiority?” Thunderbolt Sentinel straightened his uniform. “All I can do is be with my ponies.”

A yell.

A pony ran past the door to the office.

Then three.

Dobbelsteen slung his lever action off his shoulder, giving a nod. “Changelings?”

“That’s impossible.” Thunderbolt lowered his head in thought. “They advanced a hundred kilometers in twenty-four hours?”

“Anything is possible, now. ” Dobbelsteen gave a quick mock salute with his claw, stepping towards the door and out onto the trench. “I’d get back across the River and relink with General Maud, sir. You’re no use to the Equestria dead.”

Sentinel raised a hoof in goodbye, with a nod of respect. “Neither are you, Major!” As the Griffon ran out the door, Thunderbolt Sentinel pulled a rifle from the desk inside the trench’s office, his eyes scanning the map. With a heavy sigh, he smashed an oil lamp against the diagram, casting the illustrated trench lines in flame. It couldn’t fall into the Changeling’s grasp.

Moerman moved forward through the trench, briskly moving past the collection of purple-uniformed ponies. Worried eyes darted all around him as he moved forward, holding his rifle close to him, practically galloping towards the most northern point of the barricades.

“What is it?” Called a Unicorn, whose helmet didn’t seem to fit him. Worriedly, he asked again. “Come on, what is it?”

The fog persisted, as Moerman saw as he ascended the step to peer over the trench wall and out into the limited visibility. He rested his lever action rifle on the trench wall, and the soldiers around him mirrored.

The same unicorn looked at his brown-coated friend. “Did you see any of them?”

“No.” The bat pony swiftly shook her head, tightening her rifle. “We heard them.”

Everypony faced forward with their bolt action rifles, gazing through the sights. Dobbelsteen glanced quickly to his left and right, and then back forward. Nopony made a sound, their ears twitching to hear.

They felt it first, and then they heard it. Then, try as many of the soldiers did, they couldn’t stop hearing it. Shifting through the fog like specters taking shape before their eyes, their treads pulled them forwards, clawing towards the trench. First two. Then three. Then Moerman couldn’t count them, as one pony down the trench yelled,

“TANKS! OPEN FIRE!”

Pops of gunpowder sounded and bolts cycled forward, as the distant impacts on the armor rendered nothing but hollow dread for Dobbelsteen. He brought his head subconsciously away from his sights, as they kept appearing. Staggered like an echelon, the more he squinted through the fog, the more he saw.

The machines rumbled forward regardless of the rifle fire, or the machine guns that eventually kicked up around the dirt and tattered into the front of their hulls. Distant vibrations could be heard from their engines, as the sound was drowned out by the rifle fire along the trench.

Moerman saw them halt.

Frantically, the ponies fumbled with the bolts of their rifles, frantically loading new ammunition. The iron machines creaked and groaned.

They stood motionless, as the Griffon leaned away from the barricades. His claw outstretched subconsciously furiously patting the pony to his right. “Down, Down-”

“Wha-” The unicorn said, pulling away from his rifle, as he had to lean against the trench wall to keep himself from falling over. “W-What, sir!?!”

He could hear it. Barely through the screaming of his own heart pumping blood throughout his body, he could hear, he could see the cannons rising to fire from each one of them.

“DOWN!” Dobbelsteen dropped his rifle and yanked the two soldiers on either side of him, hoping that his scream would reach the others in the second he was able to yell it before the cannons opened up.

All along the trench line, shells struck against the wooden trenches and kicked up dirt, and splintered the walls high into the air, as everypony’s vision filled with dust and smoke. The distant fire of the machine gun emplacement intensified frantically before more cannon shots replaced it forever.

Dobbelsteen brought the soldiers down to the floor of the trench as he shut his eyes, the initial volley of shells ceasing for a moment as he picked up his head and frantically got up, yanking his rifle.

The ponies in the trench were stumbling to their hooves, before being knocked down by additional strikes.

“Gre-Grenades?” Moerman said, looking around, and then looking directly at the bat pony. “Where are the grenades?!”

The brown-coated mare only shook her head, frantically shaking as she brought her rifle. “I don’t-... I don’t-...”

Ponies began frantically running in the trench, as the shells continued to fly. Trampling over each other, a stallion tripped over himself in the chaos unfolding and fell into the puddle of dirt, forced down by the hooves of his own compatriots, struggling to breathe.

Moerman moved towards him, his claws pulling on his hind leg out of the way of the trench corridor and up to his hooves, as his eyes were brought up to a different pony, an officer. Her hoof was holding a pistol in the air, her eyes frantically trying to make eye contact with her soldier. “Think fast!” she said, “Move back toward-”

A shell struck the trench again and covered her in smoke.

The rumbling was getting closer.

All across the trench lines, ponies were frantically pushing past one another to get by, most of them pulling themselves over the trench wall and running back. Dobbelsteen could hear the machine guns.

“NO, NO! STOP!” Moerman pulled himself towards the back of the trench wall, trying to get their attention. “PLEASE, STOP! GET DOWN!”

Bullets soared through the air, and almost acquitted Moerman with the grave, as he quickly ducked down back into the trench. The gunfire sailed over his hollow vision of the air above the trench, and the yells of pain confirmed his fears.

His claws gripped his rifle, as he positioned himself low and against the ground. The two ponies on either side of him. The engines became louder, as the cannon of the tank came into view overhead. Dobbelsteen scrambled under it, looking towards the soldiers down the left side of the trench. “GET THE GRENADES OUT!”

He saw as some of the ponies scrambled towards their belts, but the tank directly overhead Dobbelsteen Moerman had its turret swiveled into position. The mg sticking out of the hull opened fire perpendicularly into the trench line, cutting through the ponies that stood in the trench.

Screams, pure terror came from the ponies that were still living in the trench, as the iron husks of war slowly rolled over the trenches. The Unicorn next to Moermancurled himself up into a ball, hoping he wouldn’t be crushed. Dobbelsteen was almost bewildered that the trench didn’t collapse on top of him.

The tanks moved forward.

The firing continued.

Dobbelsteen scrambled up to his claws, seizing his rifle and the grenades from the belts of the dead pony across the trench from him. He grabbed as many as he could, looking back to the two ponies. “Come with me-” He said, picking up the Unicorn’s rifle and shoving it into his hooves. His words were spoken in a hollow fashion, as if he were convincing himself as much as him “Come on, come with me-”

“I CAN’T!” The Unicorn said, his light blue mane falling in front of his eyes. “I’ll - I’m going to die -!”

“You’re not dead yet, I promise you.” Moerman pulled himself over the trench wall, his rifle in his claw.

“Wha-” Tears ran down the face of the bat pony next to him, as the two looked on in terror at the slaughter of the rest of the trench, a sight that shook them to their core. Their hooves held their rifles low, their uniforms cut, their faces matted with dirt and sprinkled with the blood of their friends. Dobbelsteen had to get them out of there. He couldn’t save the others, he had to save them. They’d die if they didn’t move. “Who even are you?”

Moerman grasped the bat pony’s hoof. “I’m the Infantry.”

Scrambling up the trench wall, the fog almost obscured the tanks once more, as they advanced further. “The only chance we have at stopping those tanks are these grenades! We’re gonna run behind them and throw them into their tracks! Shoot them as they come out of the tank!”

He ran with them. As the cannons and machine guns still fired from the tanks ahead, each second that passed was filled with more screams and more dwindling rifle fire. Over the motionless ponies that lie between the trench lines, Dobbelsteen had to run.

The machine was an imposing force, a lion that didn’t have to face him to strike fear into his heart. He fumbled with the grenade, yanking off the pin and tossing it into the treads. Moerman quickly dived backward, as the other two ponies did the same.

With the burst of smoke, the tank screeched to a halt. Smoke began to rise from the windows, as even more ponies scrambled past Moerman. Hundreds of ponies galloped over the trenches and into the fog, doing anything to get away from here.

The turret still moved.

Before the machine gun could adjust its fire, Dobbelsteen’s wings propelled him forward onto the smoking head of iron, as he slammed the stock of his rifle down onto the barrel of the machine gun. Repeatedly, he banged and banged the rifle down onto it, before the hatch swung open.

POW!

The Changeling tank officer fell back into the tank, his green, ichor-like blood painting the roof of the turret, as the shaking hooves of the Unicorn chambered another round.

“THAT’S THE SPIRIT, SOLDIER!” Dobbelsteen said, before yanking out another grenade and throwing it right into the opened hatch, his wings propelling him off the hull before the explosion sounded off.

“S-SIR!” The bat pony said, pointing further towards the trench.

Fire. Controlled jets of flames filled the trenches where they once were, as the last stragglers of ponies poured out to flee from the flames. Raising his rifle to bear upon the Changelings, he stood side by side with the two ponies. “SHOOT, SHOOT!”

Cycling through the lower receiver until there were no more bullets left to fire, his shaking claws fumbled with the bandolier to load in a desperate manner, bringing the rifle back to bear upon the unstoppable jets of fire.

Bullets soared in retaliation, kicking up around the dirt and striking the hull of the smoking tank. The silhouettes of the Changelings could only be glimpsed, as guesswork had to suffice for his sights.

“GAH!” The Unicorn fell to the dirt, his hooves still holding onto his rifle, with blood slowly damping the upper sleeve of his purple uniform. “I-I’M – THEY, THEY SHOT ME!”

The fire wouldn’t stop. The bullets wouldn’t stop. The screams grew louder and the heat only crawled up Dobbelsteen’s feathers. He seized the shoulder of the bat pony, looking her directly in the eyes. “RUN! RETREAT, RUN!”

With the remnants of the trench’s pony occupants, Dobbelsteen Moerman grasped the Unicorn by his uniform and frantically started dragging him backward, until he stumbled onto his hooves and pushed through the pain to run for his life. The three of them sprinted. Dobbelsteen began to flap his wings to get out of there, but the looks of shock on the faces of the other two reversed his decision. So, Dobbelsteen Moerman ran. He ran for dear life.

All the while, the Changelings advanced.

Comments

[shining paladin]

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

[sirenc0re]

i just caught up and i have to say that this is a really fun adventure romp and i love it <3