Without Question

Without Question

Chapter Four – The Gathering Storm

“Five minutes to the station!  Five minutes to the station!”

Silus opened his eyes and blinked a few times.  It was very early in the morning; the sun had barely peeked over the rolling hills.  He glanced around the car and saw that only a few other groggy passengers had awakened.  A few woke up at hearing the shout, but soon grumbled and fell back to sleep.  To his right, Silus saw that Grimsoul had awakened and was staring intently out of the window in front of him.  Silus followed his gaze and saw a small railroad station in the distance surrounded by what appeared to be hundreds of tents and short wooden towers.

“The Opaque Ridge outpost,” Grimsoul said quietly, so as not to disturb the remaining sleeping passengers.

Silus studied the outpost as it grew closer, and he turned to ask Grimsoul a question.

“Might I ask why this location is called Opaque Ridge?”

Grimsoul continued to stare ahead while he responded.

“A long ridge made of some jet black mineral runs through the plains here.  This is the only location we’ve ever seen the mineral and our scientists never got around to fully researching it.  We do know, however, that it is practically unbreakable.  None of our tools or other methods can even put a scratch in it.”

Silus found this interesting, but before he could ponder on it further, the train screeched to a stop, flinging one sleeping recruit across the car and into the door.  He stood up, grumbling, and was met by the annoyed conductor in the now-open doorway.

“We’ve arrived at the outpost.  All may now disembark,” the greasy Changeling announced.

Silus and his escorts followed the recruits out of the train and stepped down onto the moist grass.  All around Silus, soldiers were bustling about, carrying equipment and marching in odd, loose formations while officers barked orders.  He couldn’t help but notice the officers didn’t seem to know what they were doing and shouted orders without much confidence.

Grimsoul nudged Silus and the group began walking towards a large, dark blue tent in the center of the camp.  Short wooden watchtowers dotted the perimeter of the outpost and Silus could see Changelings in them looking through telescopes on tripods.  Scouts?  It would make sense.  He directed his attention to the environment itself.  The ground in the outpost seemed muddy with a few patches of dying grass here and there.  But beyond the outpost, he could see a vast, open plain glistening with dew.  Grimsoul was right; a black ridge ran through the plain.

Turning his eyes to the sky, Silus saw it was becoming cloudy.  It was already quite humid and didn’t seem like it could get much wetter.  Finally the group entered the main tent.  The interior was lit with lanterns that appeared to contain yellow crystal shards.  Along the edges of the tent were desks covered in paperwork.  Changelings wearing light brown vests made of cloth were shuffling through the papers and passing them around the room as they chattered.  Near the back of the tent, a tall, young Changeling sat behind what appeared to be a desk made of yew.  As Silus’ group approached him, he looked up and took a good long stare at Silus.

The Changeling behind the desk held a worried look in his eyes.

“I assume you are the aid my messengers informed me of?” he said.

Silus stepped forward.

“Indeed I am.  I presume you are the commander in charge of this outpost?”

The Changeling nodded, stood and looked Silus up and down, trying to understand what was in front of him before answering.

“Though I am skeptical…it is not my place to question Our Queen.  I am essentially out of options at this point, anyway.  We failed our invasion because of our lack of organization, and now I fear we will all be slain for that same reason.  The previous commanding officer was killed in action.  He had far more experience than I do.  This is just…too much.  But I have been told that you yourself are…or were…an officer for your homeland?”

Silus smirked and replied, “This is my new homeland, commander.”

The Changeling frowned slightly.

“So it is…so it is…I have orders stating that you are to be my advisor as well as an officer here.”

Grimsoul spoke up, “I believe our job here is done.  We shall take our leave.”

The Changeling commander held up a hoof.

“No, you will not.  I received another message regarding you four Imperial Guards.”

Silus had only heard them referred to as “escorts” until now.  These Imperial Guards must be the elite of the elite, he thought.

“You are to join us in this battle.  We need all the help we can get, and you lads are the best, or so I’ve heard,” the commander went on.

Grimsoul nodded.  He would gladly do his part.

“And you…Silus, is it?” the commander asked Silus.  “I’m sure you saw the travesty outside.  Frankly, I’m open to any advice you may have.  I’m all ears.”

Silus looked down at the desk.  Maps and reports were strewn about.  He picked up a few of the papers to see how things were being run.  It shocked him how poorly this military was being “organized.”  The troop formations were in preposterous shapes, and it was obvious the commander didn’t know the definition of flanking.  Even the unit hierarchy was jumbled up.  It took everything in his power to not slam the reports down on the desk and slap the commander through the linen wall.  Time was flying, and he needed a plan.

“Commander, this truly is a mess.  I honestly can’t comprehend how you managed to throw together an invasion when your main tactic consists of simply charging forward and hoping for the best.”

The commander leaned back, shocked and insulted at Silus’ bold complaints.

“Oh?  Well tell me, then, how were things run in your old home?  Hm?”

Silus knew it would take far too long to implement his old nation’s style of warfare.  He had to adapt and use something basic.  Perhaps the style of an ancient empire…?

“Commander, let me take charge.  I will seize victory, I swear it.”

The commander was still stunned at how bold this alien was.  He almost rejected the request out of stubborn pride, but decided against it.  He knew what was at stake and he knew the coming battle would result in defeat under his command.

“Very well, Silus.  I will gather the troops in the mustering area.  Be there in there in ten minutes.  I hope you are right.”

Silus scribbled notes from his memory over the next ten minutes before heading to the large open area at the north end of the outpost.  He remembered the style of warfare of an ancient empire from his history classes in high school and his tactical courses in the military academy.  He couldn’t remember the name of the empire, but many of its terms stuck with him.

He stood on a raised wooden platform in front of a crowd of about two thousand Changeling soldiers.  All of them wore the same armor as the recruits on the train.  To Silus’ left stood the commander, and on his right were the Imperial Guards.  As Silus stepped forward to speak, the bustling mass of black froze and went completely silent.  It was eerie to see all of those eyes staring at him.  Silus cleared his throat and held a cone made of thick paper up to his mouth.  He wasn’t quite sure how to go about doing this, but he started slowly.

“All of you, form separate lines of ten soldiers each.  All officers please step off to the side for the time being.”

Silus watched as his initial command took action.  It was not hard for them to form groups of ten relatively quickly.  The officers also obeyed and stood separated from the rows of troops.

“Now, I want one NCO to each line of ten!”

The crowd mumbled to themselves in confusion.

“I am not familiar with that term, Silus,” the commander informed him.

Silus rubbed his temples.  Of course, they were clearly a mess.  Why would they have separate kinds of officers?

“Let me try that again,” Silus tried to adjust his plan.

“One officer with three years of experience or less to each line,” he finished.

The officers understood this and soon each line now consisted of eleven troops each.

“Now then, these groups of eleven will be referred to as Decadius!  Each Decadius officer will be referred to as a Decanus!”

The crowd mumbled in agreement.  Though this was new to them, it felt sensible.

“Next, I want the Decanus’ to gather in groups of ten with your Decadii!”

The crowd shifted, and soon there were large square formations consisting of 110 soldiers each.

“Each group of 110 will be commanded by an officer with four to six years of experience!”

Nearly all remaining officers to the side faded into the square formations.  Only two officers remained.

“These groups of 111 will be referred to as a Century!  The officer holds the rank of Centurion and will give orders to the Decanus’ as he sees fit!  Next, Centurions will form groups of ten with their Centuries!”

The commander next to Silus was gawking now as the huge black squares moved in sync.  Silus smirked, seeing this out of the corner of his eye.  The squares had almost merged; they now formed two enormous squares made up of about a thousand each.

“Officers with more than six years of experience will be placed in command of 1111 soldiers!  These officers bear the title of Millennion and each group is to be referred to as a Millennium!”

The last two officers stood proudly in front of their troops.

“You will now be given various designations so that each soldier will know what group they belong to and know who their officers are!”

Silus stepped down from the platform and explained this to the pair of Millennii.  They walked along the sides of the huge squares explaining what Silus meant to each Centurion, and each Centurion in turn explained it to the Decanii and so on.  As a test, Silus pulled a random soldier out of the crowd and onto the platform.  He asked the soldier to state what group he belonged to in descending order.

“Um…” the small Changeling began, “Second Millennium, Sixth Century, Third Decadius.”

The crowd roared with excitement at how well the system worked.  Grimsoul grinned at Silus, impressed yet not very surprised.  He had a feeling this human would do great things.

Silus saw the Changeling give a proud grin and he dismissed him back to his ranks.  The commander no longer showed worry in his eyes and stood proudly with his chest out.  The sky had grown darker and the clouds nearly blocked out all sunlight.  It began to drizzle.

“Memorize your group designations and return to your tents!  That is all!” the commander spoke into the cone and the crowd dispersed into the outpost.

“I am beyond impressed, Silus,” the commander said as he, Silus, and the Imperial Guards returned to the main tent’s interior.

“Never before have I seen such a strange, yet incredible style.  I will send a report of this to the Queen at once.  She will use it to organize the rest of the military in this fashion.”

Silus’ breathing slowed and he stared into space when the commander mentioned the Queen.

“Silus?  Silus?  I said, we have about fifteen hours until the Equestrian army arrives.  I will need you up and early to discuss battle tactics.  Understand?”

Silus blinked and shook off his daze.  He nodded at the commander.

“Good, I suggest you get some sleep, the sun is going down.  Hopefully this weather will ease up by morning.”

Had the day really come and gone so quickly?  Silus didn’t realize how long it had taken to organize the troops.  He and the four Imperial Guards exited the main tent and set up their own one nearby.  Though the ground was becoming increasingly muddy as the rain fell more heavily, they had found some cots and managed to stay dry while they slept. Silus wasn’t getting much sleep, however.  The clock was ticking, and soon Silus’ actions would result in the preservation or downfall of an empire...

Déjà vu…