A War On Two Fronts

Sam quietly stood on the parade fields of Fort Hurricane just outside Ponyville, she and a group of Equestrian Generals stood next to one another as she watched the grassy field ahead of her. Gwen was also present, as Sam needed a little backup in pitching her plan to the Equestrian Brass. She wore a simple black skirt with a white blouse, Gwen wore her usual suit, and the generals were adorned in their olive drab uniform. Their stars glistened like diamonds on the epaulets of their shirts.

The day sky was clear as usual, the mid morning sun was in its daily ascent, and the distant sound of training soldiers carried over from the barracks two hundred yards away. All eyes were set on an object being wheeled onto the field by several Earth Ponies in grey coveralls that bore the insignia of Rebelde Aviation. It had been a week and a half since Sam had left the hospital, despite her best efforts she hadn’t been able to find Greenfield, but she had more important matters to attend to. This was one such matter.

“Gentlecolts.” Gwen said as she stepped out towards the cloth covered secret, the Generals raised an eyebrow at her. “We’re losing the air war, and history has shown that he who dominates the sky will dominate the battlefield.” The woman quietly gestured to the object covered in white fabric behind her. “For your consideration, I present to you…” She gestured for the technicians to pull aside the fabric, and so began to reveal for the first time what lay beneath. “The latest from Rebelde Aviation, based on humanity’s advanced technology…” The cloth fell completely away. “The RWB Mark One ‘Conquistador’.”

The aircraft was intimidating, even to Sam. She had seen the ultralight that Turner had constructed in the barn and thought it was impressive, but the Conquistador was something else entirely. A plane that was purpose built to fight griffons, they had needed to forgo fabric wings as they could be slashed by claws, that meant weight needed to be reduced. They’d gone with a low wing placement to afford more maneuverability and visibility to the pilot. The wings were tapered for production efficiency’s sake The engine was super-turbocharged, also purpose built to be as durable as possible. Some of the technicians had joked the plane would break apart before the engine quit.

The cockpit was shielded by a metal and glass canopy to ensure the pilot couldn’t be pulled out by an enemy combatant. It looked somewhat like one of the T6 ‘Texans’ that Sam had seen in some of the war movies she had in her collection, though a bit more angled in some areas. Most importantly for a warplane were its weapons, something that Sam had contributed to on a small level. A mechanism in the engine would spin, charging the six fifty caliber arcane autoguns in the wings. The idea had come from a need to not only cut down on weight, but to ensure it could fight as long as possible before it needed to land.

Multi-Charge weapons like lever rifle Turner owned were widely considered obsolete because they took a longer period of time to fire, but the engine’s existing rotations could charge the weapon continuously. The aircraft would have virtually unlimited access its guns, even after dropping all bombs or other wing mounted weapons. The Griffon’s may have had the best tanks on the field, but Sam was fixing to counter them with the best planes in the air. Of course, that was all if the Brass liked the plane. Up until that point only pegasi could fly without the aid of magic spells, but this would open the sky to unicorns and earth ponies as well.

“It’s certainly larger than I’d expected.” One of the Generals, a unicorn, said while examining the aircraft. “It’s a lot of metal and glass, let’s see if it really flies like you say it can.” Sam quietly gestured to the technicians to begin the demonstration, two of them climbed up onto the wing, as the prototype had an optional seat for an observer. The two earth ponies pulled on aviator caps from inside the aircraft and climbed in. Gwen walked back towards the group as the canopy slid closed, a few moments later there were several loud bangs as the prop began to turn.

Slowly at first, but as the engine turned over the propeller began spinning faster and faster. Sam, Gwen, and the other technicians were the only ones not to duck as the engine roared to life. The olive drab tail dragging prototype, bearing an eight pointed sun on its wing and fuselage to identify it as a military vehicle, gradually began to turn until it had lined up along the length of the parade grounds. The pilots looked out at the assembled brass and waved one last time, at which point they lowered the flaps and began to throttle up.

Sam watched nervously as the aircraft began to speed along the dirt covered parade grounds, its large fat tires bouncing along. The woman quietly crossed her fingers, figuring that they would need all the help they could get. While she knew from her reports the test flights had gone well, this would be their first display in front of the Military Brass that could either place an order or scrap the entire project. The seconds ticked by, until finally she saw the aircraft hit one last bump in the field and then lift off from the ground… The wheels began to retract not long afterwards.

The looks on the Generals’ faces ranged from disbelief to surprised and impressed, with all the grace of a pegasus the aircraft retracted its flaps and snapped into a quick ascending turn. Sam held up her hand, signalling the first part of the demonstration. Five Pegasi, many of whom were former stunt flyers and as such very agile, flew out onto the field to engage in a simulated dogfight with the aircraft. At first the pegasi had no problem dodging the aircraft, flying at high speed to evade the plane. At the same time, they could never seem to get it to stay in place long enough for them to get a bead on it.

It was after the first five minutes that the Conquistador began to shine, its engines roaring as the pilots brought it in behind the pegasi that had flown hard to avoid it. They were exhausted by now, unable to outmaneuver the aircraft. The tension was thick enough it could be cut by a knife, the generals watching in astonishment as the aircraft began to rapidly pick off the pegasi flyers with simulated bursts from its guns. The rumors that human technology allowed them to dominate the sky as well as the ground had been widely seen as over stated in the past, but they now seemed to be quite accurate.

Silence reigned on the ground as the pegasi broke off, the next part of the demonstration had the plane simulate a strafing or bombing run. When it reached five thousand feet the Conquistador rolled over and dove towards the ground, soon a loud dreadfully eerie howling noise began to fill the air as the plane’s rising airspeed began to push against the air inlets for the supercharger. A lot of the technology had been taken from recent development in arcane engines, as a result there were still a few things that needed smoothing out. She hoped the Generals didn’t mind.

The howl got louder as the aircraft got lower, a few of the Generals ducked as it came in steadily and buzzed over their position at around fifty feet above the ground. The remainder of the demonstration showed off the Conquistador’s maneuverability and ended as the plane landed and taxied to a stop in front of the group. Sam and Gwen looked at one another while the Generals seemed to have a brief conversation with one another. After a few minutes they broke their huddle, the lead officer of the group was General Buster.

Buster was an Earth Pony, recently appointed by Princess Luna to oversee the acquisition and order of new fighting tools. Surly, stubborn, and allegedly not a fan of bipeds. Despite that, Sam could see that he had been impressed by the aircraft on display.

“Misses Turner?” He asked, Sam nodded. “How many of these little numbers can you produce?” Sam looked over at the aircraft, it had been constructed at a factory she had acquired recently that prior to the war had been carriages. As carriages were rapidly being replaced by cars the factory had been a cheap enough purchase. Oddly enough, it had only taken a few weeks of tweaking the equipment to make the prototype.

“At the moment I only have one factory, we estimate we can produce five planes a day at first, more after we’ve had time to finalize all of the planes.” Sam explained while the other Generals were walking over to the Conquistador to get a closer look at it. “With proper funding I could acquire the additional factories to produce even more, then we’d be looking at hundreds, possibly thousands, per week.” Buster’s lower lip stuck out slightly as he looked off in deep thought, after a few minutes he looked back at Sam.

“I’ll have the funds transferred at once. Your initial order will be for three hundred aircraft, from there we’ll see if we need more.” General Buster stated firmly, Sam smiled faintly at that. “We’d also like to higher your technicians to begin teaching our new corps of pilots, at least until we have teachers of our own.”

“That can be arranged.” Sam said with a nod, the Stallion stuck out his hoof. Sam shook it firmly, prompting him to smile widely. “I’ll have my people talk to your people.”

“If you develop anything else that may be of use to the war effort, you be sure to give me a call.” The General said with a grin, Sam nodded again while Gwen watched from the background. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some other matters to attend to.”

The General gave a slight tip of his helmet and walked towards the Conquistador where he began to speak with his other generals. Sam turned quietly to look at Gwen, the redhead had the usual inquisitive look in her eyes. The two women walked closer so they could talk without being overheard by more prying ears.

“So, that went well.” Gwen said, adjusting her tie. “I must say, this isn’t a day I ever expected to see.” Sam raised an eyebrow at the woman as they began walking away from the scene. “From protesting wars on Earth to supplying them in Equestria.” Sam rolled her eyes and undid the top button of her blouse.

“You weren’t there when they turned my home into a glorified meat grinder.” The woman said flatly, she had to change what side of Gwen she was standing on so that her good ear was facing her redheaded companion. “I don’t see this as supplying a war, Gwen. I see this as helping to protect my husband. The better equipped the Equestrian Army is, the safer Paige will be.”

“I suppose you have a point there.” Gwen said, she grinned that usual cheshire grin as she looked off to the side. “Oh, that gives me a great idea for a new war bond campaign.” Sam sighed as they approached the area of the parade grounds where they had parked their car. “Don’t worry, I won’t need you to pose for posters… Although, pregnant women could elicit more support… Might save that one for if the war starts doing poorly.”

“Do you only care about the money?” Sam asked genuinely, to her surprise Gwen shook her head.

“The challenge.” Gwen clarified, she reached to her pocket for a pack of cigarettes but stopped herself when she remembered Sam was still present. “Reading the public’s collective thoughts, swaying their feelings one way or another… It takes a lot of skill, I’ve just gotten so good I make it look easy.” Sam supposed she could understand that, in Gwen’s own way she wanted to do her part. “This war could possibly lead to my magnum opus, you know? I’m pulling out all the stops, all the limits I set for myself.”

“And if it is your ‘magnum opus’? What happens afterwards?” Sam asked as she climbed into the passenger side of the vehicle. Gwen walked around the front of the car and got into the driver’s seat while Sam put on her seatbelt.

“Then I’ll retire, use my millions to buy an island somewhere or something cliche like that.” Gwen said with a shrug before she started the car, the woman frowned slightly and looked out the window. “I almost hope I don’t ever need to create that opus, I don’t know what I’d do if the challenge was gone.” She stared at the aircraft that was now being looked over more closely by the pegasi generals among the group. Sam put a hand on Gwen’s shoulder, the reassuring feeling prompted Gwen to start the car and regain her cheshire grin. “Come on, let’s get going. As I recall, you have some factories to acquire.”

Fort November, that was the name that they had settled on for the camp outside Acksyuk, though it made sense since it did more resemble a fort than a camp. The tall dirt walls had been reinforced and strengthened over the last week and a half, large amounts of troops and equipment were moving into the massive military complex. The reasoning was all very hush hush, but Turner figured it was likely to be build up for another major offensive… Though the target of such an offensive was uncertain. Turner didn’t much care, however, he was too busy looking over the troops that had been placed under his command.

Twelve fresh faced troops straight from boot camp, Turner had received six weeks of training, these troops had only received two, sometimes three. Of the twelve recruits, only three were dragons. The rest were minotaurs, and the oldest of the whole group was barely twenty five. As it turned out, the oldest was also the Sergeant of the new group, and as such would be a fireteam leader like Turner had been in the beginning.

“Sergeant Gorka, are the men fully assembled?” Turner asked as he looked over the assembled group. At least the minotaur’s seemed to have generally normal names, which made identifying them a little easier. Gorka stepped forward, a light brown bull with short but sharpened horns, his eyes were an intense light blue.

“Yes Staff Sergeant, the men are fully assembled.” Gorka said as he dutifully saluted Turner, Turner saluted back before standing to the side of him. Turner walked down along the front row of soldiers, six minotaurs of varying heights that topped out at around six feet five inches. He looked over each soldier, noting a rather disturbing trend among them and the soldiers in the back row.

“By the looks of you, you all seem to think that this is some sort of summer camp. That the situation doesn’t require much in the way of serious thought.” Turner said flatly as he paced back down along the line. “Well, I am not your camp counselor, this is not summer camp, and I expect each of you treat your time here with the seriousness that is due.” Turner stopped at the head of the group again, Gorka standing beside him quietly. “I am your Staff Sergeant, it is my job to keep your sorry asses alive whether you like it or not. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Staff Sergeant!” They belted out loudly, they almost looked like toy soldiers… Turner wasn’t sure how they could be expected to fight a war, they’d sent him a bunch of damn kids. The man sighed and rubbed his forehead briefly.

“Now, aside from Sergeant Gorka and myself, who here has had more than three weeks training? Raise your hands.” Turner asked simply, to his dismay not a single one raised their hands. “How many here have received intermediate or advanced small arms training?” Again, not a single hand was raised. “Intermediate navigation?” Nothing. “Basic protocol for calling in fire support?” This time one hand came up, a minotaur in the back row. He was short with scruffy grey fur that almost covered his eyes. “What’s your name, son?”

“Private Guillermo, Staff Sergeant.” The Private replied as Turner walked over and looked him over, his helmet was almost too big for him, but even though Turner doubted he could see through the mop of fur coming down over his eyes.

“Private Guillermo, what is the proper terminology for a fire mission called within… Say... Five hundred meters of a friendly position?” Turner asked with a raised eyebrow, the Private didn’t take long to respond.

“Danger close, Staff Sergeant.” Guillermo said firmly, Turner felt a small pang of hope spring up inside him as he looked at the rest of the group. With no set date for the next offensive to begin, Turner hoped he had plenty of time to whips these fresh faced recruits into the best shape he could… If only so they would have a better chance at surviving more than a few hours. Turner walked back to the front of the group and straightened up.

“Private Guillermo is absolutely correct.” He said with a nod in the Private’s direction before he adjusted his helmet. “However, I am of the mind that every man in this squad should be able to do the job of anyone else. Everyone of you should be a rifleman, a radio operator, a demolitions expert, and if necessary a goddamn leader.” He looked over at Gorka for a moment, then back at the troops. “Therefore, in order to shape you into that image, we will begin remedial training immediately. You have ten minutes to grab your gear, then we’ll head out to the firing range.”

“What gear will we need, Staff Sergeant?” One of the dragons asked with curiosity, Turner looked him over for a second and hummed.

“Take whatever it is you think is best, the Griffon’s won’t give you a chance to ask what gear you’ll be needing. Now move it out!” Turner bellowed loudly, the recruits quickly turned and ran into their tents to gather their equipment, Gorka remained standing beside Turner. “What’re you waiting for, Sergeant? Clock’s ticking.” Gorka quickly ran towards his tent while Turner quietly walked towards his tent and reached inside. From within he took his gunbelt and his SMG. The belt had a bag for carrying his gas mask, a pouch for spare magazines, a canteen, a pocket for his map and compass, his holstered sidearm, his combat knife, and space for a few grenades.

He walked back to where he had been standing and put on his belt, then slung his SMG over his shoulder. Over the next ten minutes the soldiers ran back out into formation, some of them were carrying full packs, others had just grabbed their weapons. Of all of the assembled troops, the one that came closest was Sergeant Gorka, though his belt lacked a canteen. Turner looked them over for a few seconds, then approached one of the Privates in the front line who was carrying a full pack. He could tell by looking at him that the pack was heavy, briefly he checked the patch on the Private’s jacket for his name.

“Heavy, Private Agusti?” He asked, the minotaur nodded and Turner took a step back to look over the group. “If we were to come under attack right now, Private Agusti wouldn’t make it far with all that weight! Conversely, those of you who brought just your weapons, I’d like to ask you a simple question…” Turner began pacing down the line.

“What’re you gonna do to the enemy when you run out of ammo? Spit on ‘em?!” He asked rhetorically. Those that had just grabbed their weapons looked a little embarrassed as Turner walked back to look them over again. “Well, maybe I’m wrong! Let’s see how you do in the field! Company, left face!” The squad responded quickly, their boots thudding against the ground as they turned left. “Double time… March!” The group began jogging, Turner and Gorka running aside them as they made their way through the fort. “Sergeant Gorka, give us a cadence!”

As they went through the base with Gorka belting out their cadence the soldiers already stationed their couldn’t help but stop and watch. When some of the soldiers that had grabbed their full packs began to lag behind their comrades would help push them along. This was nothing like the training they had received at Fort Hurricane, Turner could tell they were already starting to hate his guts. While training areas had been built, they weren’t being utilized, so Turner essentially had free run of the place. That wouldn’t last, however, as more and more veterans caught on to the idea and began to put the new replacements through their paces.

Over the course of the day Turner came to learn more about the men under his command. Among them was Sergeant Gorka whom had been in ROTC in high school, that plus his age had made him a candidate for Sergeant. Private Guillermo was pretty technically minded, and he often caught things that others would miss. Agusti was a flag waver, he was a proud Equestrian and wanted everyone to know it. Turner envied him on a small level in that regard, he could see past Equestria the country to Equestria the idea.

Of the three dragons of the group, the most notable was Corporal Molotov. Molotov had been in juvie prior to the outbreak of the war, when he’d turned seventeen he enlisted. To say he was an oddball would be an understatement, he had been adopted by a family that had emigrated to Equestria from a small city-state known as Semechki. While many dragons would try to hoard gems, he instead hoarded wooden nesting dolls. His name seemed to fit considering his particular habit of lighting fires, accidentally or otherwise.

The rest of the men ranged from sociable to solitary, but they all seemed to share one thing besides their uniforms… An intense dislike for their Staff Sergeant, who was making good on his promise to keep them alive, whether they liked it or not. Turner wasn't sure he wanted to risk becoming too close with his new subordinates, the loss of his previous comrades dominated every thought. There were plenty of squads that had had a similar casualty rate, but that didn't do much to assuage the man's conscience. He found it harder to smile, gradually his resting expression was becoming that of a permanent frown... Whether that would help in training his men was unknown to him, but as he had found himself saying many times since the Defense of Acksyuk, he just didn't care.

Meanwhile, across the base, Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Clemons was getting used to his new rank and the responsibilities that came with it. From squad leader to battalion commander in so short a time, there were a lot of questions regarding his readiness for the position… Still, if the Princess thought he was up to the task, who was he to argue? Thomas stood in the map room of the prefabricated one story building which served as the headquarters for the 777th Rapid Infantry Battalion of the 2nd Bipedal Infantry Division. His current task? Putting the ‘Rapid’ in ‘Rapid Infantry’.

The original equipment list for the 777th called for Marshal trucks, some armed with heavy weapons and others intended for carrying supplies. The entire point of the unit was cutting across the field rapidly, whether it was to cut off an escaping forces retreat or to aid in an assault. In human terms they were supposed to be, in a sense, the ‘Cavalry’. Of course, none of their equipment had been issued before the invasion of Barbos, and now he was untangling a web of paperwork that had been only made worse by the sudden change in command and subsequent return to order. It was yet more evidence of just how fucked Equestrian military thinking was, that up until that moment he had no idea that their unit was supposed to be mechanized.

There was more to war than charging up a beach or holding a line, and Thomas was becoming all to familiar with that aspect of the military. On top of that, he had to prepare his men for the upcoming advance, the nature of that preparation all depending on whether or not he had the equipment they were already supposed to have.

“Fucking god damn it!” Thomas muttered as he pushed several pieces of paper to the side, his outburst did not go unnoticed and he heard the door to the dreary map room open and close. With any luck it was his company clerk returning with the forms he had requested so he could request the forms he needed for requesting his equipment. “Are those the requisition forms I asked…” He trailed off as he turned around and came face to muzzle with a navy blue alicorn, her mane blowing in its usual ethereal breeze. “...for…” Thomas snapped to attention and saluted the mare. “Supreme Commander!”

“Considering how long we've known each other you needn’t be that formal with me, Thomas. At least, not while it’s just you and I.” Luna replied, her eyes roved over the mess of papers strewn about the small room, some of which were piled up on the map table. “May I ask what it is you’re doing?” Thomas’ sighed and rubbed his neck before picking up a couple papers and showing them to Princess Luna. “Form for the requisition of proper forms pertaining to forms for the acquisition of forms for basic supplies…” The mare read aloud, blinking her eyes a few times and rereading it again. “Merely reading the title is enough to make my head hurt. I can only imagine you have some grievances…”

“Did you know the 777th is supposed to be a Rapid Infantry Unit? I didn’t.” Thomas said as he set the pages down on the table. “We were never issued vehicles, let alone TOLD we should expect them, many of our new replacement troops lack the proper training in the operation of those vehicles even if we had them. I’m not even sure the last commander knew to ask considering it took me this long to find out!” He drag his hands down his face and sighed loudly. “How can I prepare even slightly for what’s to come if I don’t know what I have to begin with.”

“I see your point.” The mare said with a nod as she quietly gathered up all the papers in several neat piles with her magic. “I’m going to need to put simplifying the requisition process on top of my todo list, followed by ensuring steady mail delivery and breaking the belief that Shock Infantry means Cannon Fodder.”

“Did ‘Selene’ find out something new last night?” Thomas asked with a raised eyebrow while he looked over the map. Currently it displayed the entirety of the Minotaur Republic, including the small region known as the Strait of Barbos at the lower portion of the map. Luna sighed and nodded, compressing the papers into clumps. “I wasn’t done with those, I still need to…” The princess looked at him flatly.

“I’m the Supreme Commander, consider your request approved.” Luna said as her magic lifted a pen and she scrawled a quick note which simply read ‘Simplify this system, please.’, after which she ignited both the note and the crumpled papers in arcane fire which whisked them off to Princess Twilight back in Canterlot. Seeing as Twilight had a knack for undoing bureaucracy, or installing it, Luna hoped to have the problem fixed in no time. “As for ‘Selene’s’ discovery last night, you’re right. You’re chimney of a comrade, as a matter of fact. It only confirms the sentiments I’ve heard from the others, though he was far more blunt in his wording.”

“Well, keep up what you’re doing in simplifying things and you may actually get him to tolerate you.” Thomas said with a shrug, several lines had been drawn on the map, several proposed plans.

One, the most favored, suggested an all out assault on retaking Minos, a symbolic victory perhaps, but not a strategic one. Perhaps as a sign that the military still had a ways to go in the ‘Choosing Your Battles’ department, the more sensible tactical option was far closer and could provide the Equestrian war industry with several important materials. Flat terrain would make for easy mobility. Of course, there was the little matter that the city of Havarit was also the current home of the Griffon’s southern Airship Fleet. Assaulting it directly would be disastrous, it would need to be starved of resources before it could be taken.

“May I offer my opinion on our next move?” Thomas asked, Luna nodded quietly and looked over the map. Thomas ran his finger from their location on the map to a small town resting apparently in the middle of nowhere along the Olive Sea which lay beyond the shores of the Barbos Strait. “Intelligence reports that this town, Harlobask, is the primary pumping station of Arcane Fuel for the Griffon Southern Fleet.” Luna nodded quietly, her eyes looking over the map more closely. “Between there and Havarit is nothing but open dirt, they’re only connected by two pipelines, here and here.”

“So you want us to take Harlobask?” Luna asked, Thomas shook his head and tapped the two pipelines on the map.

“Not just Harlobask. Cut the pipelines, cut them off from fuel.” Thomas said simply, mimicking the gesture of a knife across his throat. “We saw here that those big flying battlewagons go through tons of the stuff just hovering at anchor, it’s why they had to withdraw. If they land them to save fuel they’d be prime targets for artillery or air attack.” The man looked at the Princess with a neutral expression. “Without any fuel, the feared Griffon ‘Luft Marine’ is reduced to nothing but expensive paperweights.”

“Couldn’t they send the airships to help retake Harlobask?” Luna asked, Thomas nodded quietly and took a nearby ruler from the edge of the table, measuring between Havarit and Harlobask. “No… That’s over five hundred miles, they wouldn’t have that kind of range, not if they wanted to make it there rapidly. By the time they got there they would be falling out of the sky.” The mare rubbed her chin quietly in thought. “The concept is good, the execution would need working out however, and confirmation of our intelligence obviously. Can’t very well just blindly hurl our soldiers at the enemy in massive waves.” She trailed off as Thomas looked at her with a deadpan expression. “Again... ” She sighed. “I’ll pitch it to my staff, see what they say, though I suspect they’ll still want to go straight for Minos.”

“Thanks for listening.” Thomas said with a nod as he quietly examined the map again, his expression softened somewhat. “I know it seems like a good idea to go for the symbolic victories, but symbolism won’t sink those Airships or put steel in our factories.” Luna nodded quietly, her eyes looking over the map once again. Thomas quietly walked to a nearby window and looked outside as Turner and his squad jogged past the building. “One thing is clear, ma’am. We’ll need better trained troops than we have now if we want to win this.”