Equestria at War

22nd August, 1015 E.C. 1149 Hours

Heavy breathing, quick hoof work jumping over downed trees, and gunfire. Three days of running and hiding in this forest and Lance Corporal Winternight had finally been found. The mad dash he was on now was to get as far from his enemy as possible. A bullet whizzed past him and impacted a tree near him.

The bark on the tree exploded off and showered Winternight in debis. A searing pain in his left back leg almost stopped him from running. He broke the treeline a few seconds later, the sun assaulted his eyes but he kept moving. Buzzing and chirps nearby alerted him to other beings. When his eyes adjusted more, while he was still running, he realized that he was surrounded by Changelings.

He didn’t stop, he put his shoulder down, and charged the changeling in front of him. The sickening crack of chitin and the body flying away from him gave Winternight a confidence boost in his Earth pony heritage. Weapons all around him opened up, but he kept his head down and galloped all the harder.

He looked up once and saw a wall of stone and muzzle flashes. The border fort his unit was supposed to be reinforce. The state of the walls did not instill good feelings. He glanced to his right and left as he galloped, a Changeling battleline and trenches coming just out the forest was all he could register. Flashes of rifle, machine guns, and heavy guns drew the eye the most. Very little return flashes drew the eye second.

He galloped as fast as he could towards the wall, the gates were closed of course, he would need to find some other way in. He came right to the wall and turned left, noticing no Changelings had followed him, but were taking potshots at him. He galloped for a bit before coming across a hole in the wall. He skidded to a stop and turned around. Bullets impacted the wall, the ground, and Winternight.

Blood erupted from his flank and a scream erupted from his mouth. He scrambled to the hole and jumped in. A rifle barrel was placed on his head as he breathed heavily on the floor. The little hallway he was in said that it was a maintenance tunnel, but the sandbags and machine guns pointing at the hole gave a bit of a different tone. The walls may be getting hit, may seem to be crumbling, but this fort was very much alive and heavily defended.

“That was a nice run,” a voice behind the barrel started, “we already have a medic on his way down, stay put and don’t move too much.”

The barrel lifted from his head and Winternight closed his eyes. He might be able to get some sleep after three sleepless nights.

22nd August, 1015 1245 Hours

General Whiplash groaned into his hooves. The map table he was resting on showed the most current positions of his forces. Not one was where it should have been. Some were not even fully mobilized.

Logistics, it was always logistics. He remembered back to his first conflict between two Griffion City-States, that he had forgotten about their dietary needs and had nearly starved his own army, thankfully his position as military advisor and not general saved him from full embarrassment. But then that had him remember the Yaks and the White Bears border dispute, where he hadn’t forgotten that time but had failed to inform the Yaks of how to protect their supply lines.

Granted that wasn’t his full responsibility, the Yaks could have at least stepped up there. Yet, now here he was, in his own country, with the same issue. Not food issues, but with the fact that his forces couldn’t get organized before some of the Field Commanders had tried to grab the glory for themselves.

Over 15 thousand soldiers were already missing or dead. He was just now receiving messages that Fort Olenia was not sending or responding to communications, his reinforcing force 20 kilometers away, the artillery still stocking ammunition and more than half of his armor breaking down on the road. The only good thing going for him was the fact the infantry at least woke up on time for breakfast.

He massaged his temples, sat back and away from the table. He got out of his chair and began moving towards the door, to leave the command room and get some fresh air. He was at his wits end right now and could only wait for the units to reorganize under his order. Everything always took time, he knew that, he didn’t like it, but everyone got older before they ever got younger.

He passed several commanders and office staff before he got to the door that led outside, all of them wanted to report or suggest or tell him something. He waved them all off, he was not in the mood for this. Fives days was a long time to be in a mood for anything. He walked across the little park plaza in front of the Western Command Center, in the center of Vanhoover. One of Equestria's cities spread out around him, one that he was protecting.

He spread his wings and jumped into air and flew down the street, at first just feeling the freedom, then the relaxation. He didn’t fly long before he landed in front of a small little cafe of sorts. He pushed open the door and was greeted by a familiar beak.

“Ah, General, usual today?” asked a lanky looking griffon, dark brown feathers covering his head and shoulders but white feathers for the rest of the body, including his wings.

“No, just a coffee, for now George,” Whiplash said.

“No coffee at the base today?” George asked, with amused tone.

Whiplash shot him a look and George threw his talons up in defense before disappearing behind a door. Whiplash finally looked around the rest of the place and spotted the other regular face here.

“Well, Councilpony Undercloud, can’t imagine why you are here,” Whiplash called out with a smirk.

Undercloud looked over to Whiplash with a look of surprise, as if he didn’t know he had come in yet.

“Why, what does that imply, my dear General,” Undercloud replied with, in an Applelossan accent.

Whiplash's smirk grew, “Why, it implies that you are always here, of course.”

Undercloud smiled, “Well then I guess that’s fine, considering both of us tend to always be here together.”

They both laughed at each other as Whiplash sat down with Undercloud. They both settled down and Undercloud took a sip of his coffee. Whiplash deflated a bit, losing a bit of the mirth he had after the exchange.

“Tell me Feather, do I look tired to you?” Whiplash asked.

“Well, in my professional opinion, you look horrible,” Feather answered, “I can only imagine the stress that is on you. I, myself, am feeling a bit of that on the council.”

Whiplash grinned a little, “Well, at least I’m not alone.”

“I don’t believe you will be alone in this for a long time coming. The world has finally brought its ire to Equestria. It is most unfortunate that it happened in our lifetime.”

“Better now than later, I think.”

Feather raised eyebrow at that, “Are you still in the mind that Equestria is not prepared?”

“Of course, but we are better prepared now than if this happened after another hundred years of peace and contentment.”

George brought the coffee and set it down in front of Whiplash. Whiplash wasted no time in take a sip of the brew.

“Well, aside from the horrible business that is this war, it has brought me some mild success,” Feather stated.

Whiplash waited for him to continue, hiding behind the warmth that was the coffee.

“The Vanhoover council has finally elected one of its own for a seat on the Equestrian Council, years of prodding them was helped along by this crisis,” Undercloud lowered his head, “It loathes me to admit that I took such an advantage from this.”

Whiplash looked squarely at Feather, he knew the act, he had seen it before, but this time did seem different, “You know just as I do, that others will be taking advantage of this, some more then others.”

“Doesn't make it easier to stomach,” Whiplash sighed. Feather was right, his advantage put him a position capable of helping him and the effort, if Feather wanted to. Other ponies would be taking advantage much the same way but a few bad seeds would only be in it for themselves. He sipped a bit more of his coffee and hummed, what he wanted to do next was not something he wanted to do initially, but the opportunity had just appeared and with Feather’s promotion, of sorts, it was even better. But he was dreading the cost.

Whiplash sipped his drink again and sighed, now or never, “I know I may regret this, but I need a favor.”

Feather eyes locked onto Whiplash's’ eyes, for a second they stayed silent, the Feather nodded to continue.

“Your new position allows for this to be easier, on me, but when you get to Canterlot for Council, can you persuade them for reinforcements. The situation here will only worsen, if….”

Feather put a hoof up to stop Whiplash, “Regret nothing, for this time I shall do this with no payment required,” Feather eyed Whiplash, “Know that is not normal, but circumstances warrant this change of character.”

Feather took a long swig of his drink, “Have the sector Generals been called to Canterlot for a Strategy meeting?”

Whiplash narrowed his eyes at Feather. Feather knew the answer to that, why ask it.

“Of course the answer is no, considering you are sitting here, you ask yourself why I ask of you, have you received any summons or a communication about it upcoming?”

Whiplash thought back and realized, that no summons or even mention of a meeting had been made. Which, almost a week into the war, he should have had something.

“By the look on your face, I know the answer already,” Feather said, “When I get to Canterlot, I will be meeting with the Princesses to formally recognize my new post. They will be informed of this oversight and it will hopefully be corrected in a timely manner.”

Feather looked away from Whiplash, “This is a time of fear, as you know, but I dislike those that allow fear to cloud their judgement. Even more so, I despise those that use that fear to cower while they should be leading.”

Feather took a long drink from his drink, putting the cup on the table, he stood up, “Fear not old friend, for by this time next month, you shall have the reinforcements you need.”

He smiled warmly, something Whiplash knew happened less than an alicorn being born. Nothing else was said, Feather walked out and Whiplash sat quietly, sipping his coffee, relaxing, the stress washing away for now. He knew he needed to head back soon.

Whiplash smiled himself, he may not know the exact measure of his enemy but the war was young and anything could happen.

He frowned again.

Anything could happen.

22nd August, 1015 E.C. 1414 Hours

The cockpit rumbled from the power of the engine, the pilot oblivious to the rumble due to continued exposure. His eyes were forward, watching for any irregularities in the cloud and sky around him. He rolled his craft to the left to get a better view of the forest he was trying to spot in. After five second he rolled back.

Normally a fighter wouldn’t be doing this, but with most, if not all, the spotting planes over the sea and ports, exceptions had to be made. Of course that also meant that instead of being able to do this for a few hours, he was only going to be able to make one quick pass by the area before he reached his fuel limit. He rolled to the right and from his altitude he could see the informal forward operating base of the 4th armoured and the 17th infantry.

He rolled back again. He was coming up on the main point of his flight today. One of the few roads that went through the forest, and the one roads those from the FOB would be taking. Earlier this week, a particular field officer got spooked by the lack of communications he was having and convinced a staff officer to halt the march, thus now, Flight Lieutenant Soarin had to do this errand boy run.

He rolled over left again a he came upon the road and tried to look into the forest. Stopping thing in the water or in open air and ground was relevantly easy, this was not. The forest was a good hiding place for many reasons; the tree tops, the shadows, the underbush, and the animals that resided there, they all contributed to the difficulty of spotting anything out of the ordinary.

As he flew past, his mind caught something. A darker shadow that compared to the rest of the forest, it was out of place. And then he saw other, and now as his eyes were starting to pick out these things, he saw smaller shapes that didn’t move like animals. And just as quickly, he flew past the road and rolled back over to the right and pitched to put his plane into a sharp turn. He headed back to base, he had seen for his own eyes what everypony was fearing.

The enemy was already inside the borders. He pushed a lever forward, giving his plane a bit more fuel and increasing the power for a speed boost. Not only were they inside the borders, he thought, but they had armor with them, set up for ambush. He took a look behind him and thought about the fort that was just on the other side of the forest. As he did, he noticed something else, a small speck on his 4 o’clock, it looked to be in a small dive and was heading straight for him.

Soarin cursed to himself. When his mind got stuck on seeing the impossible, he forgot to keep his senses around him, and now it looked like he had a contender for the skies after him. He had a couple of options, keep going as he was, which considering the enemies dive, wouldn’t be the best, or dive himself and try to use the new speed to get away or if that fails, start the fight himself.

A second later Soarin pushed the stick down and started his fighter into a dive. He checked behind him and saw that the enemy was following suit and was steepening his dive. He looked back forward, he about ten seconds before he had to pull up. He thought about his options now. Five seconds.

Soarin pitched up and rolled to the right and got a quick look at the fighter behind him as it flew past him. He wasn’t well versed in Changeling planes, but he knew this one was fast and light. He pulled the stick harder to the right to complete his roll and tried to get behind the enemy, the enemy was already turning away and up from him. So instead of following after Soarin came out of his maneuver going away from his hunter.

He looked all around him real quick, looking for any other things he may had missed, and luckily found nothing. He looked back over to his hunter and saw him finish his turn to come after Soarin. At this Soarin pulled back the power lever and slowed down and rolled right again, while pulling his rudders to the left, putting his craft into a skid. At about the midpoint he nosed down and pushed the lever forward for speed as relaxed the rudders and roll a bit, this move brought him into a head-on course with his hunter. About three hundred meters out and closing. He straightened out and close the distance in a second and both planes fired off a burst from there guns.

He flew past his opponent while his plane shuddered a bit from the impact of the rifle caliber rounds. He rolled left and looked for his prey. At first he didn’t see him, so he pulled harder left but then noticed the black smoke rising from below. He smiled to himself as he angled away and back to base.