The Battle
Scanning the battlefield as she hovered above her army, Spitfire assessed the bleak situation. Half her forces had already been wiped out, leaving her with only a hoof-full of Cadets her two Lieutenants and herself, the Captain.
Across from her, in all their dark splendour were the Shadowbolts.
While they had managed to inflict severe casualties against her own, the Wonderbolts, while not warriors, where still no pushovers and in such, had fought back just as hard, if not harder against the odds and their foes.
"Give up Spitfire, you know you can't beat us, we have already stormed your field, destroyed your comrades and demoralized your Cadets. What more can you do but beg for mercy? If you give up now, surrender yourself, I'll see that you're treated fairly... Well, fairly enough." Nightshade, Spitfires former friend and old team-member bellowed from her side of the battlefield with a chuckle.
"We both know that I can not and will not do that Nightshade. It is in neither my, nor the Wonderbolts ability to give up! Until this battle ends, one way or another, we will continue to fight!" Done with talking, the wonderbolt attacked. With a roar, she ordered her forces forward in a charge.
"So be it." the shadowy mare retorted darkly under her breath, countering Spitfires charge with her own.
For what seemed like an age, the two Captains ordered their forces forward into one another, outflanking and outmanoeuvring the opponent. each act from one mare would cause the other to order her forces to counter it. blow after blow, attack after attack, strategy after strategy they countered one another!
The battle raged on as the day passed into night, more and more Shadowbolts and Wonderbolts fell, neither side taken from the fight without a struggle.
Nightshade ordering her forces out recklessly, sacrificing her own to gain advantageous positions. often tricking her enemy into attacking a seemingly isolated Cadet or high priority target only for one of her more experienced Lancers to come swooping in and eliminate another of the Wonderbolts that had fallen for the trap.
Biting her lip, Spitfire continued to watch her side fall prey to Nightshade's traps and counter manoeuvres. Becoming more and more desperate, she slowly began to ball up, ordering her forces to become more defensive. Each order more reserved than the last, her commands becoming more tentative, more cautious.
"Spitfire... Are you afraid?" Nightshade called, having easily taken notice of the more defensive tactics the fiery mare had taken. "Do you fear for your forces?" She taunted, a gleeful smile on her face. Watching her enemy crumble under the pressure, the looming threat of failure, all things she adored watching the other mare go through.
Slowly Spitfire closed her eyes and focused on her tactics, drowning out her tormentors voice as she went over the battlefield again and again in her head. hoping to see something she missed, some weak point, some advantage she can use.
"You can not save them Spitfire. They will all fall before me. Soon, those under your command will fail, and you, soon after." The Shadowbolt cried out, attempting to break Spitfires concentration, or at the very leasy cause her enough distress to cause mistakes.
Think before acting, that's what I need to do! Assess the situation! Spitfire thought. Sending her units out into battle without thinking the tactics through first had caused her much pain and loss, but to give up was not an option, if not for herself, then for the forces she had lost, for those who had given their lives to the fight.
"Nightshade..." The Wonderbolt Captain stated with a flame in her eyes as she opened them, piercing into her opponents very soul "I will-"
"Checkmate" Nightshade said, interrupting the wonderbolt. "While you were having that little internal soul search, you missed my turn" with a sly grin, Nightshade gestured to the board between them.
With wide eyed, open mouth shock, Spitfire looked down to see that her Chess Captain had indeed been put into Checkmate. "How did you..? When did you..?"
The Shadowbolt just gestured to her Lancer and Lieutenant sitting cross ways from the White Captain. "While you were trying to get your Cadet units across to be promoted, I moved my main force around on the other side of the board while keeping you distracted with my own Cadets."
With a sigh, Spitfire placed her face down into her hoof as she reached around to her back and unclipped a small bag of bits. "Remind me again why I do this with you every single weekend?" she droned, chucking the small pouch toward her friend, causing it to land in the center of the checkered 'battlefield'
"Because we're childhood friends and you'd rather do this than spend time with the 'guys' who pretty much just watch hoofball and oggle your flank." the shadowy mare said, collecting the prize and then counting out the bits. "And because you earn far more than I do." she smiled and put the pouch away. "But tell you what, tonight, I'll pay for your drinks. How's that sound?"
Smiling, Spitfire looked up at her friend and nodded. "Sure. I'll let you buy me drinks, a lot of them. I won't even mention that you're doing it with my own hard earned money."
A small giggle escaped the mare across from her. "MY hard earned money you mean. I won it fair and square..." with a small gleam in her eye she pat the bag, causing a small metalic clinking noise from the coins. "Again"
"Uuuuugh" a thunk echoed through the bar as Spitfire, for yet another week in a row, slammed her face into the table.