The Adventures of Dobbelsteen Moerman

by TheDiceMan0407

Recoil

July 15th 1010, 20:43

The Town of Pine Creek

500 kilometers south of Salt Lick City

The soldiers knew it wasn’t a calculated retreat, and it was the reason that despite barely having slept in days, most couldn’t bring themselves to shut their eyes, simply waiting for exhaustion to force them.

Jungle Trek was barely able to feel his hooves after their march south from Salt Lick, but that didn’t prevent him from absent-mindedly kicking the gravel that lined the streets of Pine Creek as he strolled from house to house, generously converted into barracks from ponies that lived here. Aside from himself, and the few patrols of ponies that ran deep into the night, the entire town had secluded themselves in their homes, not daring to go outside under the moonlight.

Trotting up to the building which, judging by its central location, looked to be a town hall, Jungle stepped inside and closed the door behind him, walking past with a nod to the two soldiers at the reception desk on guard. Shuffling past uniformed ponies each hunched over folders, maps, and radio equipment, he entered a center conference room.

“All of them accounted for, General,” Jungle said, taking off his helmet upon seeing both Selenite and Swift Wing. “Two soldiers on guard for each building. I uh… made sure they all ate and rested well today.”

Selenite’s silver mane turned with her head, as she gave a small smile. “Well, at least we have you to bring the good news. Ammunition resupply has been denied to both our elements at this time, Trek.” She blinked, before turning to fully face Jungle. “They…they have enough food, right?”

“The civilians have been cooking for them. We have rations, but… not many.” Jungle Trek stepped forward to the table. “Do you know how long it will be?”

Swift Wing’s hoof fiddled with her eyepatch for the moment, as she spoke. “No clue. Most of the available supplies are being shipped directly toward Tall Tale to defend it. Which…” She sighed. “...is understandable. If Roland’s tank corps isn’t halted soon, it's only a matter of time before he reaches Las Pegasus at this rate.”

“However, the Changelings to our north aren’t being idle.” Selenite’s eyes turned from the map and peered out to the window, squinting through the blinds at the town, and the surrounding forest. “They may take their time to lick their wounds, but they will advance soon enough to try again.”

Silence fell over the room as it had the rest of the town. Selenite kept her gaze through the window, while Swift Wing simply leaned back and eased herself down into a chair, her gaze unfocused and thinking. Jungle’s hoof fiddled with his helmet for a moment.

“Will they fight without Moerman?” Selenite asked, turning away from the window.

He nodded. “Absolutely. After my soldiers rest, I know they’re eager. They’ve been uh…gathering, talking over things they learned from Salt Lick and discussing amongst themselves on how to get better.”

There was a pause before he continued.

“But… they are asking about him. They want to know if he’s alive.”

Swift Wing couldn’t hold in a snicker, shaking her head with a sigh. “What kind of Griffon shoots a machine gun out of his own plane?”

“I can’t help you with that, Trek. We’ll remain in Pine Creek for a few more days. If he’s alive he’s either bound to turn up or send a message.” Her hoof gently tapped on the floorboard, her eyes falling back to the map. “I just hope he gets here soon.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

July 18th 1010, 21:56

Outskirts of Tall Tale

Four Days Later

“You’re certain?” General Bucket flipped the pages over in his hoof, ducking under the wooden beams sticking straight up into the roof of the underground tunnel. “If Thunderbolt’s initial lines have already been breached, then the city doesn’t have much longer to stand.” He glanced back, “I figured he would have told me directly.”

Dobbelsteen followed close behind him. “He constantly has to reposition his soldiers, any fortified position he has is either assaulted or driven around.” Despite Bucket being no less than a decade Moerman’s senior, the Griffon was finding it alarmingly difficult to catch up with him. “Sentinel needs artillery, General.”

Coming to a halt in an interchange in the tunnel, as the shovel-wielding ponies averted their eyes. Bucket stopped right before a steel-plated door. “Suppose he gets it, Major. Selenite’s division was only enough to halt Roland’s forces, and that was a given on much smaller ground.” The old earth pony’s eyes hardened. “I need those guns to protect this city.”

“This city will be surrounded in days if we don’t-”

“Major.” His hoof banged once on the door. “It will be surrounded in hours.”

With a strong heave, the steel door was pulled open by a pegasus, who brought Moerman and Bucket both into the room. Maps were illuminated by standing industrial lights, one particularly large one spanning the entire wall of this room in the tunnel. An entire meeting room was carved out of rock.

At the center of this room, one gray earth pony cast her eyes upon the map, her eyes half-lidded and her mane falling down straight around her face. In the pocket of her purple Equestrian uniform, marked gray and brown from dust and rock, a small pebble was evidently tucked away.

“General Maud.” Bucket said, bringing his hoof in a salute, a gesture Dobbelsteen mimicked. “I’ve brought help.”

She turned away from the map, her expression unchanging. “The stratified formations of these rocks, and their connecting caverns, is the only good news I can offer.” Her monotone voice continued. “How long do I have?”

Bucket only shook his head. “Hours, General.”

After a long period of silence, Maud turned over to the Griffon in the room. “What do you know about rock formations?”

Behind his sunglasses, Dobbelsteen’s brow contorted in confusion, before pulling his gaze up to the map itself. “General… what is all this?”

“The mountains of the Unicorn Valley range separate the fronts diagonally,” Maud said, her gaze keeping on Moerman. “Under the ground, the remnants of their rock formations spill out under all of Western Equestria.”

Bucket leaned over to clarify, his usual monotone voice somehow seeming lively in comparison to Maud’s. “She’s saying that she can make a tunnel system under Tall Tale. It won’t last long, but it allows us to keep up the fight and evacuate long after the city is surrounded. As of now, it's vital for the importation of supplies.”

Moerman took a deep breath. “That is…” He only took a deep breath, before looking back to General Maud. “This is probably one of the most impressive things I’ve seen in my life.”

Maud hid her smile.

“How long until it's complete?” Bucket stepped forward, darting his eyes across the map as he stood right in front of it. “Sentinel isn’t giving us much time to spare.”

“The Combat Engineers at my disposal will have the main lines completed within the hour.” Maud’s expression and demeanor turned to one that reeked of apathy and rock-hard determination. Heh. Get it? “The laying of tracks and auxiliary exits up and down the mountain range will take time after that, but we won’t leave until it's done.”

“How soon can I start sending civilians through?”

Maud blinked. “Send them now.”

Straightening his uniform, Bucket turned back and trotted up back to the both of them. “I’ll commence the evacuation. Most have already fled, but many have become stranded ever since the Changelings began bombing the rail lines.” His figure remained ever still, as he did his best to keep his eyes forward, not letting them sink to the floor in despair. “If the city cannot survive, maybe the ponies will.”

“I’ll head back across the front,” Dobbelsteen said. “Roland will cross only at one point on the river and flood through there. If I find that point, I might be able to call it up and have them bombard it to slow it down.”

“No.” Bucket said. “You can’t buy us any more time, Major.”

Maud only glanced between them as Moerman tilted his head. “Well… what will you have me do, sir?”

“Return to your soldiers.” Bucket said, giving a nod. For the first time, the old earth pony actually managed to give a smile. “I misjudged you. General Selenite sent me correspondence not long after you initially moved north. We can hold things here. Somepony needs to guard the exit of these tunnels in Yeahcon.”

“Even with these tunnels, you won’t hold this city for long.”

Bucket gave a small shrug. “What’s a soldier to do?”

Standing across from one another, both Bucket and Moerman brought their hoof and claw to meet, eyes remaining on the other as they shook. Stepping into the conversation, Maud asked, “Major? I have a request.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“Further north from here, around Yonderhill, is my sister.” Though her expression and tone remained apathetic, she shifted her hoof in the dirt below absentmindedly. “Her name is Pinkie Pie. If you do manage to see her, let her know that I am alright.”

Bucket and Moerman exchanged glances. There was a long silence.

“...Please.” She added, in the same monotone voice.

Cracking a smile, Dobbelsteen adjusted the lever action around his shoulder and gave a nod. “Understood. I’ll make my way there as soon as possible.” He gave a long look to Bucket and Maud both. “...Take care of yourselves.”

With a quick turn, Dobbelsteen Moerman stepped towards the door, which the guardspony from earlier was kind enough to hold open for him. Stepping out into the cold air of the tunnels, the steel-plated doors shut behind him.

Inside, Maud looked at Bucket. “You know where he’s from?”

“Certainly not around here.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

July 19th 1010, 06:32

Pine Creek

Moerman’s Company

Nopony waited for the sun, now crawling its way over the horizon, to bring them out of their beds and out onto the streets into their formations. Quickly trotting out of the converted houses and stories, the platoons which made up the Company of soldiers from Fairflanks formed into boxes, each facing the courtyard of the town hall.

Not to be outdone, the Night Guard, also stationed within the city, were formed inside of the town hall’s courtyard, their darker uniforms resembling that of the waning night cast with an orange glow from the sunrise in the distance. Moving down the steps and fastening her long, silver mane into a bun as she always had each morning, Jungle Trek was already standing out to greet her.

“Looks like they heard the news.” She said, moving her eyes over to all of the soldiers. “You weren’t supposed to let it slip out until we got confirmation.”

Trek’s helmet was fastened atop his head, bringing the sling of his bolt action rifle tighter around him. “It’s a good thing we got it.” Shrugging, he brought a hoof to point into the town. “Besides, I wasn’t the one. Swift Wing must’a done it before she moved towards Yonderhill.”

Selenite’s eyes trailed off to her sides, Swift Wing’s lack of respect for operational security fading out of her mind as she took in the sights of the formed Night Guard. Though certainly outnumbering Trek’s soldiers, it wasn’t much in terms of population due to its more technical role. Yet, the thestrals that comprised it had their eyes laser focused ahead, their uniforms pressed and their posture straightened.

Trek’s eyes, however, moved upwards. Peering far above, an aircraft carried itself down from the cloudless sky, the sound of its engine while quiet, causing the ears of many to twitch within the Fairflank’s militia. As it drew lower, it became obstructed from view from the rooftops and trees surrounding the town.

“That plane was ours, right?” Asked Sunrise Dare, her peripheral vision failing her.

Shooting steps gave a quick nod. “Had to be. It was alone.”

Strawberry Cinnamon couldn’t resist bringing her head slightly upwards to search the sky. “Is it him?” She brought her gaze back forward before anypony noticed. “It’s gotta be him.”

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up…” sighed Brisk Sweeper, adjusting his helmet. “The engine wasn’t loud enough-”

VHUUUUUMMMM

Be it the rag-tag platoons of Fairflanks, or the well-trained soldiers of the Night Guard, everypony had the immediate instinct to cover their heads and duck. The three engines hurled the seaplane forward across the sky and over the rooftops of Pine Creek, bringing wind down upon the soldiers formed below. Picking their heads and gazes back up, surprise grew into amusement and joy upon seeing the slow hunk of junk that sailed through the sky.

“Well….” Selenite said with a huff of amusement. “your de facto command was exceptional while it lasted, Jungle.”

He practically deflated with relief. “Thank Celestia, that idiot is alive.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Everypony has been catching up on rest, sir.” Swift Roller said, holding her officer's cap down on her head as a gust of wind kicked up through the town. “The soldiers themselves have reconsolidated the company into a more effective unit.”

Moerman glanced over as they walked through the town. “Explain to me like I didn’t go to college.”

“The more experienced and confident soldiers have been put into leadership positions. Strawberry Cinnamon leads the first platoon, Sunrise Dare second, and Lucky Twirl third.”

Moerman stopped along the road, holding his gaze onto Swift. “...Lucky Twirl?”

“That’s…” She said, nervously clearing her throat. “that’s not a problem, right?”

Dobbelsteen Moerman tilted his head for a moment, clearly reflecting on the name behind his sunglasses. He slowly worked himself into a nod, resuming their walk. “She’s the one that leaped out of the truck in the ambush and fired, right? Small green pony?”

“That’s her.”

“No objections on my part. How’s Trek and the others?”

Swift Roller continued. “Jungle Trek manages those three platoons, I think he’s with Selenite in the Town Hall at the moment. Brisk Sweeper is working the Company radio, Sapphire Stream is getting ammunition for me, and…” She flipped through the assorted list of names on her list. “the rest are being led by Squad Leaders in drill.”

“Town Hall, huh?” The Griffon looked around. “Suppose that’s where I’ll head after stopping by the barracks.” He snapped a claw. “Oh, the infirmary. I want to check up on Wild Strikes, make sure she’s alright.”

She smiled. “Wild Strikes is all healed, Major.” She brought her clipboard firmly under her hoof. “Caramel Crunch kept her for a few days in the infirmary, just to make sure her wing healed completely, but she’s been-”

A white pegasus practically crashed into the ground next to the both of them, a grin plastered on her face. Her hoof was firmly placed upon her brow in a salute. “Up and about, sir!”

Though Swift Roller jumped back in shock, Moerman laughed upon seeing Wild Strikes, returning the salute with far less rigidness. “I can see that, soldier. It better stay that way, too.” He gazed throughout the town. “If things go as planned, you should be seeing the medic a whole lot less.”

Wild Strike’s eyes shrunk. “H-Huh? Y… - heh, you don't really mean that… right?”

“Dismissed, Soldier.” Moerman said without catching on, and with a quick embarrassed glance to Swift, Wild Strikes flew away as quickly as she entered. The Griffon, now satisfied with the report, gave a nod to her. “Thank you for keeping on top of things, Swift. I’ll be speaking with the Company in their barracks once I meet up with Trek and Selenite in the Town hall.”

Swift Roller nodded quickly. “Understood, sir.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, what kind of Griffon dogfights in a bomber?” Jungle Trek asked, as Moerman closed the door to the conference room behind him. The Earth Pony was reclined in a chair, his gaze fixed towards the roof as if he was asking himself a philosophical question. “Do you just wake up one day and decide, ‘You know, this has a 20% chance of working’, and do it anyway?”

He laughed at that one. “I’ve had much worse odds than that.”

Selenite nodded. “Wherever you go, they seem to follow.” She half-smiled, stood in front of the table in the room, and her eyes on Moerman. “It’s good to see that you’re alive, Dobbelsteen. You had Trek worried he might have to do his job.”

Dobbelsteen’s claw lifted his officer’s cap from the top of his head, resting it on the table. The metallic sigil of the Griffonian Empire stitched into the front of it, as well as the buttons on his green uniform, reflected the orange glow of the rising sun that peered through the windows behind Selenite. His smile faded, as his eyes came down towards the map.

Selenite’s gaze gently shifted to Trek for a moment, before coming back towards Moerman. Her voice was much softer in tone, as she said, “How bad?”

“Catastrophic.” Moerman said.

Jungle Trek pulled himself out of the chair and stepped towards the table, the three officers now all surrounding it. He leaned in, “Did… did you go to the front? We figured you needed to refuel in Tall Tale.”

He nodded. “I did. I went north to meet Sentinel to get his perspective. We were both at the most forward trench when they attacked.” Dobbelsteen brought his claw towards the map, pointing to the river north of Tall Tale. “Around here. Tanks ran through and over the trenches like it was nothing.” He kept his gaze unfocused. “Some even turned their turrets to face their machine guns along the trench line.”

“How…” Selenite said, stopping in her words for a moment, thinking through. “Thunderbolt couldn’t stop them? Did he have any support?”

Moerman shook his head. “Artillery had to be accepted by divisional commanders. The K-bullets weren’t doing anything to help against the tanks.” He lowered his head with a heavy sigh. “We uh… had to make do with the grenades we had.”

Selenite leaned away from the table, one of her hooves practically shaking in anger. “Divisional commanders? No integrated fires, not even Company requests for support being offered? Did he even have towed guns in his line?”

Jungle briskly turned his head to Selenite. “Why would they want Artillery pieces to answer to the Division?”

“Blueblood wants direct control over his guns,” Moerman said, his beak tightening. “He calls in full-scale barrages across the front. All fine for infantry attacks, but refusing to delegate his guns down to lower commanders let Roland exploit weak spots without direct communication.”

Jungle just shook his head in disbelief. “So… he just orders Sentinel to STAND there?!”

“It would make sense if we weren’t dealing with a fully motorized army on well-built land,” Selenite said, with a heavy sigh. “Bluebloods committing to a static-line defense with limited counter-offensives. He wants to delay Roland’s forces and buy time for the rest of Equestria to mobilize.”

“Well it CLEARLY isn’t working!” Jungle Trek said, throwing his hoof up into the air. “The ego of that Canterlot-fed pony is costing the lives of soldiers! “ He said, turning back to Moerman. “What could Sentinel do to stop him if all his hooves were tied?”

Moerman tilted his head at the map. “Maybe he’s more concerned with defending the city than halting the Changelings. Even then, a static line only works for so long until the enemy hits something important and exploits it. There’s no way he thinks he’ll hold Tall Tale.”

“Maybe he’s waiting to consolidate?” Selenite said, bringing her hoof towards the map. “Outside of Las Pegasus, but the amount of land he’d give up on the trek down… that’s even assuming he’d stand and fight.” She grit her teeth. “Or just run away like a coward. Again.”

Looking between the two others, Moerman picked up his hat. “Well… time for me to do my job. Trek, show me where Brisk Sweeper is stationed. Tell him I have to steal his phone line.”

“Wha-wait…” Selenite stepped forward. “Moerman…Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Jungle Trek nervously regarded the Griffon in front of him, hiding it with a laugh. “Yeah, uh… Blueblood might not appreciate it if you directly spoke to the Princesses. Sorta steps over Chain of Command?” He blinked. “Something which… is still hard for me to understand as something within your power.”

Standing in front of his two friends, Dobbelsteen Moerman’s eyes glanced between them behind his sunglasses. Their words tried to make their way into his ears, but all that he could really perceive was the heat of the trench he felt mere days ago. The roar of the tracks pulling over his head, and the burning sight of the flamethrowers that filled the position of his fellow soldiers. He could count how many he escaped with. He couldn’t remember how many he lost.

“Don’t worry,” Moerman said, taking a deep breath. “I’ll be real diplomatic.”

Comments

[shining paladin]

great chapter mate keep it up can't wait for the next chapter

[Tired Toad]

Finally caught up and I must say that this shit is fucking great. Keep it up, mate.