My hooves crunched in the snow as I navigated the sea of canvas that made up the camp. I clamped my wings tight to my body trying to keep the silver, synthetic feathers warm. I had been released from the hospital with a list of provisos concerning my new appendages. The magically forged synthetic feathers were wondrous works of unicorn craftsmanship, but they required much more upkeep than my natural ones. I was given a five scroll list of warnings from the doctors; keep the synthetics clean, don’t preen out the synthetics, don’t get the synthetics wet and don’t feed them after midnight. The last two were actually from the “Parasprites” movies, but they might have well been included on the mile long list. Most were just common sense items that I would have done anyway.
The one thing that the MDs failed to warn me about was the cold, and it certainly was bucking cold now. My wing ached; I could feel each screw and every length of wire used to reconstruct it. The metal feathers attached to my wing bone would become painful if they got too cold. The frigid temperatures also produced another hazard; frost.
Because of the synthetics, I now had to worry about ice build up on my wing, and the dangerous impediments to flight that caused. If I wasn’t careful, the frost would cause my feathers to stick, hampering my maneuverability, or worse weigh down my wings and cause me to crash.
Between the pain and the frost I was spending much of the colder months on the ground with the exception of aerial patrols. I moved at a quick pace back to my quarters as snow began to slowly fall around me. I jumped into the warm tent and kicked the door shut before any heat could escape; nearly tripping over my wingman as I came through the threshold.
The jet black pegasus was laying inverted on his back in the middle of the tent floor. His rear hooves resting on his bunk and his wings spread out, as he stared at the ceiling.
“Doing yoga?” I asked as I curled up by the stove to warm my wing.
“No,” he grumbled. “My head still hurts from that damn drill.”
The previous day, some big brass stopped by to give a snap inspection to our wing commander. He, in turn, decided that an impromptu mock scramble would show how battle-ready our squadron was. Unfortunately for Show Off, as soon as the air raid siren wailed he got tangled in his sheets and took a header into one of tent support beams. The four blue stitches over his eye were evidence that the drill didn’t go well. Out of the ten four-pony groups, only three were on the flight line within the six minute allotment that we were supposed to be given.
The twins and I were one of the three. While not at full strength, we were ready to fly when needed. Nearly every other group got chewed out for lack of combat efficiency, but not nearly as bad as the wing commander must have.
My wingman stared at the silver feathers with a frown on his muzzle. This was a habit he had gotten into, and it made me feel uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure why he did it, but every time I asked he would quickly change the subject; so I stopped asking.
“The cold?” he asked me as he nodded at the fire.
“Yeah, it’s not a big deal,” I replied with a shrug. “I just wish that they would keep it summer, don’t they know there’s a war on?”
“You know why they can’t.”
I did know; you mess too much with the natural cycle of the land and you kill it. You use magic to keep the sun out and the snow away, the ground dries up and you can’t grow anything. So, as much as we hated it, the royal family let winter come in earnest.
Unfortunately, the change in season spurred more scuttlebutt than the press board at the news rag. As soon as the snow fell, the squadron was inundated with rumors ranging from the Royals abandoning us like they did at Fort A, to the Princesses having a spat causing it to snow, to the entire royal family being assassinated and replaced with Changelings.
I was better informed of course; Show was getting a letter from Luna every other week. If a Changeling had taken the Princess’ place, I’m sure that the letters would stop coming regularly. Not that a mail stoppage could be a bad thing, it would keep me from having to deal with my wingman rushing out of the tent as soon a mail call was announced every weekend. When there was a letter, he’d come running back in clutching the envelope in his teeth, giddy as a school foal. When there wasn’t, he’d come back grumpy.
He never let me read any of them but from the way he was giggling as he scanned the royal parchment hinted that they had some juicy bits. The rare glimpses I got over his shoulder didn’t tell me much more than Princess Luna’s pet name for him. Whatever else she told her “Noir Feathered Knight” was a closely guarded secret. I didn’t make too much of an effort to read his letters though; it wasn’t any of my business what goes went on between him and the royals.
“Feel like braving the cold to get to the mess tent, get a nice hot cup of cocoa?” Show Off asked.
“So I’m supposed to go back out into the freezing weather, brave the sleet and snow, so I can get something warm to drink?” I laughed.
“That about sums it up,” he said getting up and wrapping himself in navy blue scarf. “And it will give you a chance to get that pass signed.”
I shook my head; he really had a one track mind lately. One look at his hopeful face and I caved.
“Sure, why not.”
“Here,” he said as he threw me a white scarf from his wall locker. “It’s not much, but it helps.”
“Thanks.”
I wrapped the wool garment around my neck and let it trail back behind my wing; I rose from my spot and remorsefully left the warmth of the fire.
The snow began coming down unabated; I saw a recon flight coming in low over the camp. Visibility must have gotten so poor that a standard landing would become dangerous. It wouldn’t be long before units were dispatched to clear the snow out of the camp.
We quickened our pace, trying to get to the mess hall before we were drafted for shovel duty by some officer gunning for promotion by the visiting rear echelon. It wouldn’t surprise me to walk by some pony with his lips frozen to one of the general’s epaulettes; that’s the price you pay for kissing brass in cold weather.
Luckily, the only pony we ran into was the night guard on patrol, who asked us for the password behind chattering teeth. Apparently, “it’s too damn cold for this” was close enough and he let us pass to the dining facility.
Show reared up and pushed open the door to the mess. We both hurried into the relative warmth of the tent before we froze to death. The tables were mostly empty; not really a surprise with how bad the food was, but Quill and Famoisty were occupying a table in the back corner.
After filling a mug with the black sludge that passed for coffee in the military, I headed over to where the officers sat. The captain busied herself by drawing swirls on a white pegasus with her special talent. The magical pencil was darting around like a humming bird, leaving a deep green magic trail as it zipped around the mess.
Quill shot her disapproving looks as he scribbled words down on his note pad. It was obvious that he felt drawing on other ponies was inappropriate behavior for an officer.
“Here’s your chance,” Show Off said, giving me a small nudge toward the officers. “Ask him.”
I looked over at my obsidian friend.
“Now doesn’t seem like the best time.”
My wingman just laughed at me.
“Don’t get cold hooves now, after all the work I put into this…”
During my most recent stay in the hospital, Show Off had offered to send a scroll to Fleetfoot of the Wonderbolts, his ex-marefriend. My wingman never made empty threats and, after about a week, received a letter bearing the Wonderbolts’ seal.
Fleetfoot had asked all of the single mares if they’d be willing to date an average flyboy, and to my surprise, one of them accepted. Misty, one of the Wonderbolt flyers, wrote a small note asking to have dinner with me after one of their demonstrations. She also included their performance schedule, so I could meet her.
I had thought this was a practical joke cooked up by Show or the twins, but my wingman assured me that the letter was genuine. I believed him, after how long it took him to convince me to start seeing mares again, I don’t think he’d cook this up to scar my hopes.
I looked down at the dragon scale hanging around my neck.
Well, I though as the scale glistened in the light. It wasn’t just him.
I had written back and arranged a meeting, and just like that I had a date with a Wonderbolt. The only thing left was to escape the hellhole for a few days, and for that, I needed a weekend pass to Fillydelphia.
The paper was easy enough to obtain from the skinny little filly that served as the company clerk, but the form required an officer’s signature to be valid.
“Lieutenant,” I said, walking up to the table. “I need a favor.”
Quill looked up from his pad, he looked exhausted; the dark circles under his eyes gave testament to the sleepless nights he’d been having as of late. Whether that was due to the burden of command or due to his purple maned mare, I didn’t want to know.
“What’s the favor sergeant?”
I pushed the pass form across the table to him.
“Three-day pass, for the weekend. Sir!”
The lieutenant frowned at the roll of parchment.
“Sergeant, there’s a war on; I can’t have one of my most seasoned flyers out on holiday.”
Just as he would if I were being chased by an enemy fighter, my wingman came to my defense.
“Come on Lieutenant, everyone needs R and R at some point.”
Quill sighed audibly.
“I know Sergeant, I’m not saying he can’t have the pass…I’m just afraid that he can’t have it this weekend. Intelligence indicates there might be a major offensive by the CB’s, I need every available soldier.”
Show Off was adamant.
“Quill, Intel believes there is always an enemy offensive.”
“Why must it be this weekend, Sergeant Snap?”
I felt myself blush as I answered, but I didn’t want to lie to him.
“Because this is the weekend the Wonderbolts are in Fillydelphia.”
Again, Quill sighed.
“Request denied.”
The officer’s blunt denial sent Show Off into a rage.
“Come on, Lieutenant. You know exactly why it has to be this weekend. You’ve found your love, let Snap find his! The twins and I can handle anything that happens while he’s gone.”
Quill stood, his nostrils flaring as he responded.
“There are plenty of mares for him to find around here.”
“You’re just mad that he didn’t choose the mares you picked out.”
“Enough!” Famosity shouted, obviously annoyed by the argument. “I’ll sign his pass.”
The pen that Quill had been using to write his notes was engulfed in a green magic aura and floated over to her.
“I outrank him anyway.”
I could see the Lieutenant’s ears grow red at the Captain’s assertion of authority. It still bothered him that the mint green unicorn was at a pay grade higher than himself.
“Have fun!” Famosity cheerfully shouted, passing me back the pass.
I regarded her artfully designed signature at the bottom of the page. I felt awash with anticipation and nervousness; this was actually going to happen.
“Thank you ma’am!”
I fought the urge to whinny with excitement as I folded the pass up and tucked it into my pocket.
Quill seemed to still be in the mood to argue, but he bit his lip and sat back down. Something seemed strange, the lieutenant could be a tad stubborn at times but he did care about those under his command. There was no reason for him to deny my leave time.
“Lieutentant Weave, is everything alright?” I asked, legitimately concerned.
“Yes, everything is fine,” He replied tersely.
Quill had never been a good liar; it was one of the things that made me think I could trust him as a commander. It also gave me some indicators as his friend that something was amiss.
“Where’s Rarity?” I asked him, as the white unicorn wasn’t present in the mess.
The lieutenant struggled to find an explanation.
“She needed some space,” he said quickly. “Now, excuse me I have to file some paperwork for your pass.”
He left without another word. Show look over at me.
“Trouble in paradise?”
“Seems like it.”
“About what?” He asked me, as though I kept tabs on Quill’s high maintenance mare.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I replied with a shrug.
From across the table, Famosity rolled her eyes at us. There was no love lost between the two unicorns, but I was sure she was as worried for Quill as we were.
“We should do something,” I told my friends.
“Yeah,” my wingman replied. “I know we can arrange a nice dinner for the both of them!”
Fam stopped her doodling and placed both her hooves on the table.
“Do I have to do everything today?” she asked, exasperated. “Ugh, Colts.”
“Wha?” Show asked confused.
The captain’s mane bristled at his response, she began to address us in a tone one might use when addressing a confused foal.
“You two need to stay out of it, when somepony wants to be left alone you should leave her alone. Besides, this requires a mare’s touch.”
This explanation did nothing to clarify her statement.
“I thought you said we should leave them alone?”
“No,” the green unicorn replied with a smile. “I said you need to leave her alone. I’ll find out what’s bothering her, I’m sure Quill said or did something stupid like a typical stallion.”
And with that she turned on her hooves, heading for the door.
“I will never understand fillies,” I stated.
My wingman’s head bobbed up and down in rhythm with the captain’s swishing tail as he watched her leave the mess hall.
“Eyes front soldier!” I shouted jokingly.
His head snapped around and he stared at me with a bewildered look.
“What?”
“I said mares are complicated, but she’s probably right. We should keep our muzzles out of it.”
Stretching his wings, the obsidian pegasus groaned.
“It probably would backfire in our face and we’d have to learn some silly life lesson.” He said with a smile.
“ATTENTION!”
Everypony in the mess jumped to stand as the order was issued, a reflex from months of training and service in the Royal Equestrian Army.
A stallion entered, his uniform plain but his shoulders were adorned with a cluster of suns surrounded by a golden swirl; it was the general. He was flanked by several other ponies, obviously his staff. The captain who had called for attention seemed to think he was superior to the other staff members, as he addressed us again.
“As you were!”
Show Off rolled his eyes at the pomp and circumstance.
“Bucking brass,” he grumbled, as he sat back down.
The rear echelon group moved from table to table, inspecting the soldiers seated at each. Most of the greener ponies weren’t quite sure how to react, they stood and stammered at the general, not quite sure what to say. Other, more seasoned, veterans got up and barked out in their best military fashion in hopes that their name might come up on the next promotion board.
Then they came to our table, neither of us moved. For some strange reason, our nonchalance infuriated the captain that served as the self-appointed chief of staff.
“The general wishes to inspect you, sergeants! Why aren’t you standing?” he shouted at us.
A hush fell over the mess, as everypony waited to see what would happen. Personally, I thought the captain’s mane was going to burst into flames. My wingman simply smiled at the enraged unicorn; if he was worried about how the general would react he didn’t show it.
“You told us ‘as you were’, and until such time as we are given an order to the contrary, I don’t have to do anything,” He commented.
The captain was livid, but before he could resume his tirade, the general was sent into a laughing fit.
“You certainly are a cheeky one,” he said with a strong Trottingham accent. “I don’t suppose either of you object to being inspected.”
“Knock yourself out general,” Show Off replied, finally getting to his hooves.
The general look over our uniforms, our manes, anything that he could find fault in. He glared at the stitches above my wingman’s right eye and regarded the scarves we wore. My breath caught in my chest as he prodded the aching silver feathers on my wing; the sudden pain catching me off guard.
“Seen some action have you, soldier?” The general asked me.
Before I could respond, Show took up the task.
“Those synthetics aren’t for decoration, sir.”
“I see,” the high ranker replied with a frown. “Keep up the good work soldiers.”
The general seemed satisfied with our appearance and manners and moved on to the next table. After another two inspections, the congregation of officers moved on to other aspects of the camp. Everypony at the tables seemed to breathe a little easier as the high ranking officer exited the mess back into the chilly night.
“Bucking Brass,” Show Off repeated as soon as the group was out of earshot.
“What’s up with you tonight? I know you don’t particularly like officers that aren’t mint green and female, but I’ve never seen you mouth off like this.”
His nostrils flared as he snorted at me but he said nothing.
“Besides,” I said trying to ignore my grumpy wingman. “I thought I was the one that was supposed to make the stupid remarks and get in trouble.”
A smile crept across his muzzle, and a sudden realization dawned on me.
“You did that on purpose…”
“Yep, can’t have you pissing off some officer and losing your pass for the weekend.”
I couldn’t think of what to say, but I couldn’t believe he had been faking. I shook my head at the cheeky grin on his face.
“And here, I could have sworn you were really…” I laughed. “How do you do that?”
He stood up and struck an exuberantly dramatic pose.
“Acting!” he stated in his best stage voice.
Several ponies turned their heads at the outburst, I couldn’t help but smile. He really was looking out for my best interest, even if it was in his own twisted sort of way.
“Alright Hasslehoof, sit down.”
Show Off's mouth fell open at the comment.
“Hasslehoof? You are going to compare me to that D-List actor? After all I’ve done for you this week?”
I flashed him a grin.
“Well, who would you like to be compared to?”
“I was thinking Clark Stable or at least Tom Flanks.”
And you think Quill has some ego. I thought, but I knew that he was a good enough performer to back it up.
“Well Clark, we’d better go hit the hay. Long patrol tomorrow and then I have to pack for Fillydelpia.”
My friend got up and threw a wing around my shoulder.
“Yes, you do.”
***
The following morning, the brilliant sunrise reflected in the freshly fallen snow. Our flight group had assembled at the launching station, each of us going through our own pre-flight rituals.
“Alright ladies,” My wingman addressed the twins. “We are going to do things different for today’s patrol.”
Flitter and Cloud Chaser stopped what they were doing and stood at attention, waiting for orders.
“Ribbons, you’ll be flying with me today. Curls, you’re with Shutterbug. Pair up and get your checks done.”
Cloud Chaser trotted over to me and began to exhibit the flexibility that had given rise to her callsign.
It took Show Off and I quite a while to come up with the designations for the twins. We never had anyone under our command before, so we weren’t quite sure how to do it, but we finally settled on the physical traits that set them apart.
Flitter stood next to Lunatic, making sure the long, crimson ribbons on her mane and tail were secured for flight. They were meant to allow my wingman and I to identify her from her sister in case of a sortie, but also gave us an easy out for her callsign.
Lunatic strode purposefully forward and gave us our briefing.
“Okay, listen up. Nice easy patrol today, Northwest route. Now, there hasn’t been enemy activity in that sector for weeks but don’t let your guard down. Fly together, stay sharp and stay safe.”
“Yes Sir!” We replied, though we knew what we were supposed to do. Stay on each other’s wing, stay in formation and most importantly watch each other’s backs.
“We’ll get updated waypoints, stay the night in Firebase Uma and then head back here. If all goes well, we’ll have two days before the weekend.”
This announcement seemed to cheer up the twins a great deal. They stamped their hooves on the tarmac and cheered. Silver Lining, our newly promoted ground crew chief, rolled her eyes at the two, but a broad smile crossed her face as she looked over in my direction. I began to realize that I was the source of this cajoling, and I wasn’t sure if I should just ignore it or shoot Show Off with the lightning guns strapped to my back. Before I could make up my mind the sergeant called for flight clearance.
I reached into my flight suit and pulled out the dragon scale; giving it a quick kiss.
“Friesian flight, you are clear for take off.”
The frigid winter air bit at my nose as I shot skyward. I caught a lot of turbulence from the two ponies in front of me. I changed my line and got above the down wash from Lunatic and Ribbons; Curls stayed just behind my right wing. It was strange being in lead position for once. Though, while it was something that I wasn’t used to, it was something I was prepared for.
“You still with me Curls?” I called back over the radio.
“Yes Sir!” Came the reply.
Up ahead, Lunatic change his wing position and leveled off into a long glide. I followed suit, spreading out my feathers to give me as much lift as possible. The cold began to seep into the silver synthetics on in my wing, causing me some mild discomfort; it would become more painful as the day went on.
The first couple hours of our patrol was uneventful. Since the Eastern Front was so vast, there were expansive sections of land occupied by neither ponies nor CBs. The trenches that snaked across the land were as vacant as the farms and villages we flew over.
As soon as the fighting broke out, the Royal Family prudently evacuated all the settlements that were in the war zone. Several refugee camps had been set up near Canterlot to accept those forced from their homes.
“Fresian flight, check in!” Lunatic shouted from up front.
This was a routine check, and I had gotten complacent.
“Fresian lead, Fresian two. Nothing to report,” I responded as usual.
The mare I was flying with was much more observant that I had been.
“Sir?” she asked from behind me. “Aren’t all the towns supposed to be empty?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Look down there!”
I peered below me and gasped. Underneath us was a small cluster of buildings, but rather than being abandoned it was occupied by about a score of colored shapes; shapes that didn’t belong to ponies.
“Bravos! Contact lots of contact!” Ribbons yelled, urgency audible in her voice.
A bright blue flash below indicated that the CBs weren’t the only soldiers in the town.
“Lightning gun,” Lunatic said, calmly from up front. “Switch to the Open Channel.”
I pressed the button, changed radio channels and immediately was assailed by a panicked colt’s voice.
“-nypony out there! Please for the love of Celestia help us!”
My wingman took immediate control of situation.
“REA forces, this is Fresian flight. Calm down and relay your position or we can’t find you.”
The words did little to sedate the soldier but he did tell us his location.
“We are in a large three story building on Mane Street. Please hurry!”
“We’re on our way soldier, stay alive until we get there.”
Lunatic signaled for us to change back to the squad channel by tapping his flight helmet twice.
“Okay we haven’t been spotted yet, that gives us an advantage. I see a squad moving up on that red building and a couple cloud ships moving in at ten o’clock low. Shutterbug take Curls and deal with the ground forces, Ribbons and I will deal with the fighters.”
“Roger!” The three of us shouted in unison.
Lunatic peeled off left with his wingman, I peeled right and dove toward the settlement.
“Curls, one quick strafe then Island Hop!” I ordered.
Island Hopping was a strategy that typically meant jumping from cloud to cloud in order to utilize cover and confuse the enemy. In lieu of cloud cover, rooftops could be used for the same purpose.
I lined up along the main road where the CBs were massed firing at the building where the friendly forces were entrenched. I took aim at the base of the enemy line and let loose a streak of electricity that scorched the cobblestone street. My wingman followed suit and the brilliant flash scattered the bears as they scrambled to find cover. I landed on a rooftop, the snow crunching as I slid to a stop. Curls landed across the street and began firing on the bears, I ran across the roof getting a better angle on the attackers. Dust and debris flew from parapet as a Bravo turned his attention to me, a bolt from the top window of the red building cut him down. The last two broke cover, trying to get to where they could shoot at my wingman. I moved the magical pipper up to the first ones head and fired. The CB fell backward; a smoldering hulk of burnt fur and flesh. Curls dispatched the last one with a burst from her weapon.
“All clear!” She waved.
I spread my wings and gently glided down to the pavement, making sure that all of the attackers were dead. Looking up at the pale winter sky, I saw two pegasi flying down toward me. Lunatic skidded on the icy street, but Ribbons landed awkwardly and then collapsed. Curls rushed to her sisters side, but was batted away by a wing from her twin.
“I’m fine,” Ribbons said as she rose, though blood was running down from her shoulder.
“We have a situation,” Lunatic said grimly. “More Bravos in bound. A lot more, maybe twenty out. Get Quill on the horn and get us some back up, I’ll see to Ribbons.”
He turned his attention to the red building where three ponies were filing out; two were soldiers, one was not. It shocked me to see a civilian in the middle of a war zone.
“Thank Faust you were here,” One of the soldiers said, a single bar on his shoulder indicating he was a private.
“Stow it private!” I said tersely. “We aren’t out of the storm yet.”
Lunatic helped our injured flier as I radioed our outpost.
“Fort C, Fort C come in. Friesian Flight to Fort C.”
“This is Fort C, go ahead.”
I could hear artillery firing in the background.
“We need reinforcements at check point Foxtrot 3-8, he have Bravos inbound and a civilian in tow.”
“Negative, Friesian Flight,” the mare on the radio said. “We are under a full scale assault. No resources can be mobilized at this time.”
“Oh Faust! Is Lieutenant Weave alright?”
“Lieutenant Weave is on the line, directing fire; he’s fine. Now clear this frequency. Sit tight and we’ll direct any free units to your location when we are able.”
I quickly tried to raise the firebase.
“Firebase Uma, Friesian Flight.”
The response was not what I was hoping for. A colt answered with an air of panic in his voice.
“Friesian Flight, we are under attack. Where the buck are you?”
“Checkpoint Foxtrot 3-8, we have civilians here over.”
“What the buck are civ…incoming! Get down!”
There was a large explosion somewhere near the speaker; he came back on barking orders at various troops.
“Get on the line! Shore up that defense! Friesian Flight, we can not support…sorry.”
I looked over to my flight leader and shook my head.
“Negative on reinforcements, both the Fort and the Firebase are under attack.”
Lunatic cursed under his breath, but one of the privates spoke up; panic behind her green eyes.
“Th-then we have to get out of here!” She stammered, looking down the road to the end of the village.
“No,” Lunatic said, his voice carrying an authority I hadn’t heard before. “We need to find a place to hole up until dark.”
“But you said they were coming.”
“And we’d be sitting ducks on the open field. We’ll have to wait until nightfall.”
The two privates shifted nervously, Curls flashed me a worried look and I returned what I had hoped was a reassuring smile. Lunatic issued orders in a fashion that didn’t match his easy going personality.
“Alright, Privates you two take charge of the civie. Shutterbug, Curls, give the Bravos a path out of town. Ribbons, let’s find a house with a good defensible position and get you patched up.”
I nodded and cantered off towards the east side of town, my wingmare hot on my hooves.
“Those gumball stoppers looked pretty green,” she grumbled, using the derogatory term for ground infantry ponies.
“Yeah,” I replied as the edge of town came into view. “I wonder what they were doing here.”
The road lead out onto a long open field, covered in freshly fallen snow. We trotted out as far as we could without being seen, leaving hoof prints in the snow, then took flight and went back to repeat the process. We made a couple more passes until is appeared that an entire herd of ponies had walked out of town. I didn’t know if it would fool the CBs but it was worth a shot.
“Shutterbug, do you read me?” My radio crackled.
“Lima-Charlie,” I said, letting Lunatic know I could hear him loud and clear.
“We have secured a safe house, it’s a yellow two story on 3rd. Hurry, we don’t have much time before the Charlie Bravos get here.”
Curls and I flew to 3rd street as low and as fast as we could. The building was fairly easy to spot and we entered through the open second floor window. Flitter was lying down in the corner with a bandage on her shoulder; a bandage that was slowly growing redder. The rest were positioning furniture in strategic points around the large upstairs room.
“There you are,” my flight leader stated with relief. “We’ve barricaded the front door; the back balcony has escape stairs so we can get out unnoticed.”
Cloud Chaser saluted briefly before hurriedly running over to check on her sibling.
Show Off turned to our three new acquisitions.
“Private Ice Drops, now would be a good time to debrief us.”
The brilliant silver unicorn looked confused; she obviously didn’t know what was being asked of her.
“What happened to the rest of your squad private?” Show Off clarified.
“Th-They’re gone.”
“Bucking Bears…” I muttered, but Ice Drops shook her head.
“No, something else. We were on patrol and got this distress call, saying Bears were on their way. So we called it in and rushed over here. The CBs had cornered this school, and apparently weren’t expecting us because they retreated when we approached. We found Professor Moreau in the building, he sent out the SOS, and the LT assigned me and Ditch Digger to escort him but before we could get out the bears came back. The sergeant told us to run…and we did, just didn’t get far, the Bravos chased us to where you found us. Digger tried to radio the LT for help, and the lieutenant shouted about this ‘thing’ that was attacking them.”
I noticed the professor shifting from hoof to hoof as the private spoke.
“And then…and then he screamed.”
Her voice faded and tears welled in her eyes. Now that she finally had time to think about it, reality was setting in. Show noticed as well and quickly tried to find something to occupy her.
“That’s enough private,” he stated, handing her a canteen. “Take this and share it with Digger, then I want you by the windows, keeping look out. Stay out of sight the best you can and if you see any Bravos, get us.”
She nodded and trotted off to the other private how was attempting to push a chest of drawers to one of the windows.
“Faust, they are green…” I said as soon as Ice Drops was out of earshot.
“Worse than that,” Show whispered. “Their first patrol.”
“Great…they’re bucking Cherries. Hell of a mission to cut your teeth on.”
I turned my attention to the civilian, who up until now hadn’t said a word.
“And what the buck were you doing here, this area has been evacuated.”
He suddenly got very serious.
“That’s classified.”
“Mule Fritters, we don’t have time for this!”
“It’s well above your pay grade flier, drop it or you’ll answer to the court martial board.”
He stormed off to an unoccupied corner of the room. I looked over at Show, who simply threw his hooves up.
Suddenly the radio crackled to life, and Quill’s voice resounded in my ear.
“Friesian Flight, come in!”
“Quill!” Show exclaimed in a hushed voice. “Please tell me you have good news.”
“Arabian and Caspian Flights have completed their mission objectives and are being sent your way. What’s your status?”
“Our flight is mobile, but Private Flitter was wounded. We’ve picked up three strays, two soldiers from Firebase Uma and a civilian. The rest of the ground unit is MIA. We have inbound but we are staying put until we can safely extract.”
“Alright, keep your head down, Sergeant. Reinforcements ETA 90 minutes.”
“Rodger that,” Show said with a sigh.
Cloud Chaser trotted over.
“Sirs, may I talk with you?”
“Is your sister alright?” I asked concerned.
“Yes sir…but we’ve been thinking, what’s so important about this place? The Bravos attacked the fort and the firebase, that makes sense, but there’s nothing here.”
“You’re over thinking it, private. Bears aren’t that organized. Help’s coming, take care of your sister and make sure she’s ready to go when we need to leave.”
She nodded but I could tell she wasn’t buying it; I wasn’t either. This village had no strategic significance, that’s why it had been abandoned. It was in a depression in the land, surrounded by hills; a veritable kill box. Yet the Bears were here, and they launched a full scale assault to act as a smoke screen to cover it up. I found myself repeating the private’s question; what was so important about this place?
“Sirs!” Ditch Digger whispered urgently from the window. “Bravos! A lot of them.”
All contemplation ended as I inched closer to the window in a crouch. I took a quick look over the window frame and saw a sight that made my blood turn to ice. There were Bravos approaching on the outskirts of the village, I could barely make out the shapes on the horizon but the brilliant colors stood out against the white snow. There were at least five squads, made up of about twelve soldiers each. Our little rag tag group of six would be no match for the entire platoon, no matter how disorganized Bears were. Even with reinforcements coming, we were in a lot of trouble.
“Sir,” The private whimpered next to me. “I don’t want to die here.”
I looked over at the scared colt, he was visibly shaking. I was his superior and he was looking to me for comfort. I wasn’t feeling too secure myself, but I gave him the best smile I could muster.
“Park that talk in the stable Private, we are not going to die. I have a three day pass to Fillydelphia for a date with a Wonderbolt. There’s no way I’m dying before I get to meet her.”
This information brought a smile to Ditch’s muzzle. I didn’t know if it was the confident air that I had taken on, or if he thought I may have snapped and he was now talking to a crazy pony. Either way, it held off panic for the moment.
“Now, keep away from the windows and check your weapons; we may need them to fight our way out.” I said, resuming my role as the superior.
The next forty-five minutes ticked away at an agonizingly slow pace as the bears began to search the buildings. They went from house to house looking for any surviving ponies; we all fell deathly silent as they approached our hiding place. We could hear them banging on the barricaded door below us. Thankfully, once they realized that the door wasn’t opening they moved on; we were safe.
I watched from the window as the last Bravo trudged away down the road. I signaled all clear and we all resumed breathing.
Suddenly, a high pitched scream pierced the frigid winter air. It was like the cry of a dying animal and caused my mane to stand on end. The sound of gunfire followed; echoing off the derelict buildings of the town. I armed my lightning guns as I saw the CBs running hastily back toward our position. I could see them in the street taking cover and turning their weapons at something up the road. Before they could get another barrage off, a dark shape descended upon them. It was a colossal animal, covered in a shaggy black coat, with claws at the end of its paws the size of scythes. The beast’s head shot forward as if its neck was a loaded spring, snatching a Bravo in its jaws. The bear struggled, skewered by yellow needle-like teeth, before being flung violently into the side of a house. The other Bravos opened fire on the creature but their weapons seemed to have little effect. They ran and the beast gave chase.
“What the buck is that thing?” Ice Drops whispered fearfully.
The professor took a glance at the chaos that had erupted outside the window.
“The Bandersnatch…” he muttered.
Realization dawned on me and I whirled around to face him.
“What do you know about this?” I hissed as quietly as I could.
“We…we thought we could control it,” Moreau said, his eyes filling with panic.
“Who is ‘we’?” Show asked pulling his attention away from the window.
The professor stared at the floor.
“I can’t tell you…but we have to get out of here!”
I advanced on him, feeling my anger with the situation begin to bubble to the surface.
“Ponies are dead Moreau and unless you want to join them, you need to tell everything about this Bandersnatch thing,” I menanced.
The tan pony cowed away from me; backing toward the wall. He couldn’t see where he was going and tripped over Flitter, landing on her wounded shoulder. The poor mare cried out in pain, but quickly put a hoof across her mouth.
The room exploded with dust and debris as a massive black paw obliterated the wall facing the street. I was knocked to the floor, and I could see two massive red eyes staring at me from the opening. The Bandersnatch snapped at me, yellow fangs gnashing inches from my hooves. I righted myself, and loosed a blast from my lightning guns at it. The creature gave a howl of pain and fell back down to the road.
“Come on!” Show shouted as he reared up and knocked the back door from its hinges. “Go, go go!”
Everypony ran to the exit, I counted heads making sure we didn’t lose any. One Tan earth pony, one brown earth pony, one unicorn and a pair of twins, all soldiers accounted for. I followed after launching myself from the balcony, spreading my wings to glide down to the alley below. My wing didn’t open and I tumbled awkwardly into a snow bank.
Bucking Frost! I thought as I tried to extract myself from the snow.
I was hauled up roughly by the back of my flight suit.
“Get up, Sergeant!” Ditch shouted, tugging me free of the bank.
We ran as a group, Flitter and Cloud Chaser were flying ahead of the pack, acting as short range scouts, while Ditch and I brought up the rear. Looking behind us, I could see the Bandersnatch on the roof of the house.
It let out a shriek that turned my blood to ice, and jumped from the roof to chase us. Show saw it too.
“Turn and fire!” he ordered.
The entire alleyway was bathed in blue light as six ponies fired on the creature. It screamed in pain as the spells made contact; then jumped right, heading onto the main road.
“Keep moving,” I shouted at the four astonished soldiers.
They needed little prompting to pick up the pace.
What the buck is that thing? I thought. Six lighting guns and we just made it mad.
I caught movement in the corner of my eye and instinctively ducked. An abandoned carriage flew over my head, smashing into the side of a house. The Bandersnatch came charging in from an offshoot to the main road.
“Persistent son of a mule!” I swore firing at it.
The streaks of light didn’t even slow it down, I jumped to the side just avoiding the huge hulk as it slid past me, its sharp claws unable to gain purchase in the snow. The creature became entangled in the remains of the carriage.
“Run!” Show shouted at me.
I jumped up and began to haul haunches. I caught up to Show and chanced a glance back to where the creature was extracting itself from the wreckage. Show Off saw it too and gave me a determined look.
“Get everypony back to base!” He shouted. “I’ll draw it off!”
He sent a couple bolts at the Bandersnatch, scorching its black fur, then pulled hard right taking the creature with him.
My hooves skidded on the icy cobblestones as I tried to follow him. Ditch got in front of me as I turned.
“He made his choice, sir! We have to get out of here!”
I hesitated, I didn’t want to leave my wingman to fight that thing by himself, but the five terrified ponies in the alley of me needed a leader.
He’s a good flyer, he’ll be fine. I told myself and chased after the rest of the group.
The twins suddenly dove into cover at an intersection, raising their guns aiming down the left road. Gumballs impacted the concrete wall that they hid behind as I arrived at the road crossing.
“Six Tangos!” Flitter informed me from across the street as her sister returned fire.
I took up a position and shot a bolt at the bears who where hiding behind an overturned cart.
“Bull Chips! We can’t get pinned down here!”
I started directing our small squad of troops.
“Ribbons, Curls, Keep up the suppressing fire. Ditch, get ready to move, I want you and the professor to…”
A glass blade flew past my head, embedding itself in a bear who dropped with a gurgle. I look behind me to where the knife had come. Ice Drops had pulled down icicles, using her magic to form them into blades. They were floating around her, like dancing jewel sprites. She launched two more ice projectiles, replacing them as soon as they were thrown.
The Bravos fell back as the twins and I added our own fire power to the unicorn’s ice. Ice Drops flung a large clear lance at the last retreating figure and then smiled at my shocked expression.
“Move!” I shouted at all of them.
We took off, hauling haunches toward the edge of the town. I checked the unicorn on my right, her horn still glowing as she towed her frozen arsenal.
“What the buck was that?” I asked her over the sound of our hooves.
“My talent,” She replied with a smile. “I was an ice sculptor before the draft board found me.”
“Lucky us, I don’t think the CBs were expecting flying icicles.”
“We’re just lucky it’s cold, I’m totally useless in the summer!”
The road opened as we reached the last building. In the distance, I could see ponies and clouds chasing each other in the sky.
“There are our reinforcements!” I shouted. “Ribbons, stay on the ground with the rookies. Curls, let’s back up the squadron.”
My wingmare and I launched ourselves off the ground.
“Arabian Flight, Caspian Flight, this is Friesian Flight! Coming to support from checkpoint Foxtrot 3-8! We are at half strength.”
An eerily calm female voice responded on the radio.
“Friesian Flight, Caspian Lead. Always happy for the help.”
She sounded so lax for being in the middle of a dogfight, but I suddenly realized why. The flyer closest to us was chasing an enemy fighter, she followed it into an inside loop and splashed it at the apex, then rolled to an outside loop. The maneuver gave her an angle to splash another fighter coming towards her. It was an extremely dangerous and tricky stunt but she pulled it off with ease, and the rest of the flight was up to the same level. By the time we reached the sortie, the skies had been wiped clean.
“All clear Sergeant,” The female voice said smugly. “Take it in for a landing.”
We turned and led the group back to where the rest of the rag tag squad waited on the ground. The pink pegasus landed next to me, I could see by her insignia that she was a major. There wasn’t anytime to acknowledge her, my eyes shot back to the buildings.
“Curls, bring the Major up to speed,” I ordered. “I’m going back for Lunatic.”
“Don’t write me off just yet.”
His voice made me jump, I turned to see my wingman standing next to me a huge smile on his face. Aside from looking exhausted, he was unharmed.
“How’d you get away from that thing?”
“Killed it.” Was all he said in response.
He walked over to the Major with a nod. As we were in the field, there would be no saluting so any CBs watching wouldn’t be tipped off that she was an officer.
“Sergeant Offington, Ma’am.”
“Major Firefly,” she returned his gesture.
The twins stared at her, with good reason. Firefly was the top ace in the Eastern Theatre. After seeing her fly, I had no doubt that she was as good as the scuttlebutt suggested.
Show Off recounted our mission as best he could and Ice Drops filled in the gaps for the ground unit.
“Which brings us to you,” Show addressed the professor. “Who the buck are you working for?”
Professor Moreau stood up and faced him defiantly.
“I told you that’s classi…”
The professor’s head was consumed by a cloud of pink mist. We all dove for cover, except for the privates. I grabbed Ice Drops by the tail and dragged her down to my rock as Cloudchaser tackled Ditch to the ground.
“Sniper! Get down!” She shouted at the private.
I saw the professor laying in a pool of blood, his lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. I felt enraged, our only lead had just been snuffed out, well not our only lead.
“Stay!” I shouted at Ice Drops, and then launched myself into the air.
It was a bonehead move; one that was fueled more by raw emotion than rational thinking.
I spotted the sniper, a lone Bravo on a rooftop on the edge of the town. He spotted me and took off, jumping across the houses. Diving after him, I gave chase, like a hawk pursuing a rabbit.
He slid to a stop as Firefly landed in front of him, cutting off his escape route. Shingles went skittering to the ground as I hit him from behind, knocking him down and pinning him to the roof.
“Who do you work for?” I asked as I flipped him onto his back, and pinned down his clawed paws.
The Bravo responded with an odd repeating grunt, I realized he has laughing. Then his mouth began to froth, he convulsed once before dropping stone dead.
“Buck it all!” I said, disgusted.
“Poison,” Firefly stated the obvious.
I wasn’t quite sure what to do at this point, the truth was there wasn’t anything left that we could do.
“Alright,” the major said authoritatively. “Let’s get back to base Sergeant.”
Frustrated, all I could do was nod.
***
“This was not a Royally sanctioned project.”
Two days later, I was sitting in an empty briefing room, Agent Snow pacing in front of me. As soon as we had returned to the Fort, I had sent a message to Universal Exports letting them know about the incident. This had turned out to be a mistake, as I was suddenly bombarded with questions from the CIA. It did, however, bring a smile to my face that the situation had the normally pristine mare looking ragged around the edges. At the moment though, I was concerned in obtaining some answers.
“So if the REA wasn’t behind this, who was the professor working with?”
The tall unicorn brushed her disheveled mane out of her eyes with a hoof.
“According to his notes, he thought he was working for us.”
“So we are back to square one.”
“Not entirely,” Snow said with a flick of her tail. “Someone had to be funding this; we are going to take a closer look at some financials.”
She stopped, taking a moment to look up at the ceiling.
“What bother’s me more is that sniper. Why did it target the professor?”
“Just at random,” I suggested.
The pink maned mare shook her head.
“Not likely, if anything the Major was the most likely to be the primary target in that situation. It’s not like she’s very commonplace with that pink coat, and the CBs would love to be rid of her.”
“So you think the Bravos were after the professor all along?”
“I think,” she said gravely. “That someone put them up to it.”
“A pony.”
“Yes, which means that this is no longer simply about sabotaging the war effort. Someone was trying to give the Bravos a weapon, a very dangerous weapon. I’m worried that this may be the start of a coup.”
“Someone is trying to usurp the crown? That’s…”
“Insane? No, it’s not. There will always be those who seek power, I’ve already doubled the guard around the Princesses.”
She looked worried, which was a side of her that I had never seen; it had me concerned as well. Her expression changed rapidly and she smiled at me.
“But that’s the Agency’s problem, you have your own to consider. I hope you enjoy Fillydelphia.”
“How do you know about that?” I asked incredulously.
“We at the CIA know everything,” She said darkly, before breaking into laughter. “And Captain Famostiy told me over tea.”
I shook my head, I’d have to speak with the captain about that.
“I must get back to Universal Exports and process this. Take care of yourself soldier.”
With that she left the briefing room out the back door.
“How did I end up like this?” I asked myself as I left the room.
“Bad luck and good friends,” a voice stated by the door.
I turned to see Show Off leaning up against the wall in the hallway, his back resting on a poster encouraging ponies to buy war bonds.
“I certainly have the good friends part down.” I said smiling at him.
“So are you all packed?”
“You know I am, you’re the one that threw the saddlebags at me.”
His smile widened.
“Buckin’ A.”
“I’m a little nervous though, I’ve been out of the game a long time. What if I’ve forgotten what to do?”
My wingman rolled his eyes at me.
“What is it you always say? Speak from the heart and you’ll be fine.”
I pulled out the dragon scale to look at it.
“I’m not the one who said it,” I regarded the initials carved into my good luck charm. “Do you think I should keep wearing this?”
Having to even ask that broke my heart, but Show draped a wing over my shoulder.
“She is as much a part of you as you are. Keep wearing it.”
I sighed with relief, he was right.
“Thanks Show.”
“You can thank me once you get home. Now you have to go or you are going to be late to their performance. And I want all the details when you get back.”
“Alright,” I said with confidence. “Here goes nothing!”
