"This is Lieutenant Heartstrings to Alicorn I, my company was ambushed in the Ironbark Forest. My coordinates are 23 minutes east and 43 minutes north...does any one read me?..."
Lyra lowered the radio and shook it in her hoof, checking the batteries and hardware in the damned instrument. Pressing it back up to her ear she dictated, "Hello?...I repeat this is Lieutenant Heartstrings of 3rd Company White Unicorn Special Ops-"
As she was saying this she subconsciously was checking the line connected to the radio and the receiver. She ran her eyes along the length of the cord and saw that it had been cut. Lyra's lip curled in anger, "Fuck!...Damn Grifs."
The mission was simple. Her and her special ops team was supposed to find a missing battalion of soldiers that were separated in the Ironbark Forest. 250 Soldiers were sitting ducks in there as the Griffon defensive front was making its way to that forest. They could not send a battalion or a tank crew to go in and rescue them, too many and the Griffons would view that as an advance in the Equestrian front.
They found the battalion and moved them back towards their forward command base, dubbed Alicorn I. The Grifs had came out of the brush by surprise. Caught exposed, they were not ready for the Griffons. Every last soldier had died, not without killing the griffons with them. Lyra was the only one left.
The air was humid and hot as all hell, the sun beams that peaked through the tree tops were not very comforting. Lyra slugged off the receiver from her back and dropped the radio, a significant weight lifting off of her shoulders. She did a once over of her gear and talked to herself, "Alright, you're all alone with the defensive front of the Griffons on their way. You have...oh let's see...five clips of ammo, a knife, a hoof full of rations, a poncho, a pistol, and a Granola bar."
Not the best gear but it would do for now, for being alone in a forest with predators all around her and Griffons on their way it was good enough.
She released the clip from her Hecate sniper rifle and saw that only four shells rested in the cartridge. She slung her rifle over her shoulder and gathered herself. releasing a sigh of contempt, she began her march. She turned away from the lake and looked back over the carnage of the ambush that had taken place. Bodies of griffons and ponies alike. Blood and bullet holes on all of the bodies, some with knife wounds or cuts. Grenade craters still simmered with fresh ash. The smoke rose high above the tree line. The sight was sore, however she had become numb to the sights of war. It was not hard for her to see death and broken bodies.
Stepping over the bodies she marched on in what she could only assume was the way back. The forest was so dense and so maze like that she could hardly navigate it. She must have been walking for nearly three hours when her legs told her to stop and take a breather.
The sun had set pretty fast and finally sitting down, she let out a breath and shrugged at her still irritated muscles from the ambush. Night settled in fast, the lighting of the forest dimming and showing little more than shadows that would wish nothing more than to devour her.
Activating her magic, she pulled a button on her vest and pulled out her pack of cigarettes. She needed this, lighting the cigarette she took it and breathed in deep the soothing fumes of it. Her senses cleared and she felt more complete. Taking it out she looked up and tried, hard, to peer past the canopy of trees. She could not for the life of her, perhaps that was the reason that her entire company and a battalion was disconcerting to say the least. She feared that when she returned she would be discharged or demoted because of her actions. Least of all, court martialled.
This whole war was a fickle thing, the griffons had grown arrogant and wanted nothing to do with the ponies. They tried their claws at an invasion and had failed. Then, to counter the Equestrian Military answered the call of the princesses to war. Where diplomacy failed, blood and bullets surely made up for it. Lyra had little combat experience and was only thrust into the position of Lieutenant when they fought in the Battle of Alicorn I.
She took out the cigarette and listened closely as she thought she heard the crinkling of leaves. She tossed the cigarette and rested a hoof on her knife and the other on her pistol. Her breath caught in her throat and waited to see if more of those griffon bastards came back to try and gain vengeance on their fallen comrades. The crickets were loud tonight and offered her no comfort for her dread.
They had come swiftly.
Dashing out of the brush and thunderous claps of bullets whizzing through the air over head, she raised her pistol and unsheathed her knife in response. They wore primitive plate armour and a military vest similar to the one she wore. She shot twice and the bullets connected into one of their chests. There was six of them that wielded a GSI Quickshot Rifle. A hair trigger that shoots as fast as one can pull the trigger. They closed in fast on ehr and the fallen stump that used to be a tree.
Anger ridden on their face they screamed as they charged her. Three times, another griffon fell limp. Four left.
They wer ein close now, in a sweeping motion she warned the glorified chickens. Raising the butt of the Quickshot, one tried to land a blow. Lyra side stepped and used all of her momentum to plunge the blade deep into the Griffon's side. She was successful, blood shooting out of the wound. One more shot and the shell pierced straight through the thick skull and the other three regathered her attention.
One hit her back knee, another maimed the left side of her face with its claws, and the last pointed its rifle ready to shoot. Tucking and rolling she dodged the shot and it misfired into the dirt. Rolling towards the shooter, kicking up dirt, she stabbed her knife deep into its lion's paw. It croaked in pain, pointing her pistol she shot straight up and the shell pierced through its beak and shot up into the sky.
One of the last remaining was caught off guard and gave her ample tim to eviscerate him. Ten slashes and gash marks claimed it as her kill. The last bashed the side of her head with the butt of its gun. She staggered and fell to the dirt. She landed with a dull bruising thud, a trickle of blood running down her temple. Her eyes fuzzy and her mind racing. She looked up and squinted to find the griffon towering over her with a bayonet fixed on the end of its rifle. Raising it, it fell swiftly.
Lyra caught the gun and contested strength with the griffon. Surprised at the amount of strength she had, the griffon tried to pull the gun back, Lyra refused. She gave a cruel smile, "You grifs are so predictable, honestly I am disappointed."
Lyra allowed for a fraction of a second, to release her strength and in a swift motion catching the griffon off guard punched his beak with the butt of his own gun. He staggered back and dropped his weapon. She stood back up with a groan and raised her hooves, beckoning him to fight her bear claw, "Come on you chicken bastard, let's dance."
The griffon seemed stunned and surprised, after a few seconds of mesmerizing concentration, he spread his wings and launched into the sky. Fear stricken, the griffon took off towards the canopy.
Fumbling for her Hecate sniper rifle, she pulled back the pin and raised it up, peering through the scope. She controlled her breathing until she held in in her mouth, her teeth clenching in concentration. She watched his wing beats and felt the gentle kiss of the wind against her. He swiftly made his way just to the bottom of the canopy. She breathed out, the wind dying down she pulled the trigger.
A thunderous clap erupted with quiet evening air. Followed by an ear splitting and soul wrenching birdlike screech. After a few seconds the griffon plummeted to the ground with a loud thud. Pulling back the pin, the empty brass shell fell to the forest floor. She breathed out and sauntered her way to the newly dead griffon that tried to fly away. Stepping over the bleeding bodies of his earlier comrades.
She turned him over with her hind hoof, his face mortified and suspended forever in fear. A hole the size of a bit in his neck, fresh and bleeding. the smell of iron fresh on her and in the air. Shaking the trauma she scoured the griffon. He wore a tabard bearing an insignia, his armour more finely and more pristinely made. He might have been an officer. Initially she had passed him off as another chicken winged asshole like the rest of them. But this one seemed to be one of import.
Reaching into a satchel, she pulled out what looked to be a letter. Scrawled in Common was,
"To Officer Amaranthe,
Report immediately to Storm Reach, at the behest of Commander Glidewing himself, he claims to have a special mission for you. The coordinates of the outpost are 22 minutes east, 40 minutes north. Report immediately to the commander, he will be waiting for you there.
Officer Hulisil Eagleye"
Lyra smiled as this outpost was not too far away from her position, she could do two things. Either she goes there to kill the commander, or she goes there and he is not there and she takes their radio station to signal for a rescue party. She glanced at Officer Amaranthe, "Thanks grif, I'll be sure to RSVP this letter immediately. Perhaps the commander will be pleasantly surprised at my company."
Sheathing her knife and her pistol she glanced over the fight she had participated in and breathed, "Tonight's a good night to die."
