A Hero's 'Tail'

by Garamond

Chapter 11

I soared overhead, keeping almost directly above the APC. I could hear the armored car whining in protest as it tore through the landscape faster than it was ever meant to, mortar in tow. Grit and Harvest Barley were already on the tow. Grit used his sniper rifle to spot for Harvest as she wildly rained shells down in the general vicinity of the enemy army.
While it was a waste of ammunition, since they went far wide more often than not, it did have the desired effect of sending Bryant’s ponies into a panic because they were unprepared for a bold (and stupid) mortar ambush like ours.
I checked our surroundings one last time before flying off to eliminate the copters.

“Grit, you hear me?” I asked.

“Yea kid. What’s up?” He replied through the radio.

“Ramp at 9 o’ clock. If you can jump it with the APC, the startle it would cause should be enough to scatter their force. You’ll need everypony out of the vehicle to do it though. Probably hanging from the side rails would be best.” I pointed a hoof towards his left.

“On it. Bread, try and jump that vertical incline!” Grit yelled through his communicator.

I had no time to watch, however. The B-choppers had spotted me. Moving to intercept, the whirlybirds spat bullets in my general direction. Doing a barrel roll, I positioned myself above the copters, hurling fiery death at them. They didn’t stand a chance as their propellers caught the fireballs head-on, disintegrating into metallic ash, sending their charges down to earth.
I turned back to the ground combat. The APC jumping tactic had worked well, scattering the enemy infantry like leaves in the wind. The tanks had managed to junk the car though, leaving a smoldering chassis behind.
Our howitzer tow was shelling the vehicles at point blank range, wreaking havoc on the enemy’s own mortars.
The bandits surged forward from the scrapped APC, opening fire on the scattered troopers.
I began torching the tanks, fusing barrels, killing gunners, and melting radiator plates. At one point I found Grit hanging from my back, sniping soldiers from midair. Tank after tank was vaporized in burning heaps under my fierce assault.
Soon nothing was left but a load of wreckage, a single black-on-gray APC unharmed. I landed, bucking Grit off me and into the dirt.

I looked to Foaler (who was covered in soot and burns from the close proximity explosions), asking, “How are we? Furthermore, how are YOU?”

I looked him over, noticing the burns and scratches.

“Shells aren’t supposed to be fired at that close a range, kid.” Foaler said gruffly, coughing a black and red cloud of exhaust, judging by the smell. “But I’m fine. It’s Breadstuffing that’s in trouble. Don’t look in the APC.”

Hoofstavson trotted up to me.

Spitting out a tooth, leaving a bloody puddle on the ground, he announced without emotion, “Bread’s dead, Quicksilver. I’d suggest you not glance into the armored car.”

I swallowed my sorrow, realizing I had to lead the guy’s home without a driver.

Grit, however, was worse off, prostrated with grief. He pounded the ground, muttering, “Why… Why… Why…” repeatedly.

I walked over to him, placing a hoof on his shoulder. “Bread knew exactly what he was doing when he followed our orders… He was a good stallion. Let’s take their carrier and get out of here before the other half of the army arrives.”

After a long pause, Grit looked up at me, nodding, a single tear flowing down his matted fur.

We headed back, ate lunch, and then waited for The Valiant Braves to get back before we delivered the news. The Braves rode up in a stolen APC not unlike ours.

Twilight rolled the window down and poked her head out, shouting, “Hey boys! How’d it go? And where’s Breadstuffing? Taking his usual nap?”

Grit lowered his head.

I sensed that he didn’t want to talk about it, so I answered for him. “Well, it went wonderfully, for the most part. Obliterated a large group heading towards Bardigiano. Unfortunately,” I paused, looking towards the other bandits.

They nodded for me to continue. “Breadstuffing was killed. A tank destroyed our vehicle, taking him with it.”

Hoofstavson nodded slowly, saying, “He died smiling and laughing maniacally, like he wanted. Grit’s really hurt by this, Bread was his one good friend and confidant.”

Needing something to do, I unfurled my wings, announcing that I was going to go scouting.