Conflict in Bloom

Chapters

Shallow Water: Chapter 1
Shallow Water: Chapter 2
Shallow Water: Chapter 3
Shallow Water: Chapter 4
Shallow Water: Chapter 5
Shallow Water: Chapter 7
2: Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 1
Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 3
Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 4
Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 6
Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 7
Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 8
3: Into the Dark Green: Chapter 1
Into the Dark Green: Chapter 2
Into the Dark Green: Chapter 3
Shallow Water: Chapter 6
Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 2
Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 5

Shallow Water: Chapter 1

Part One: Shallow Water

Chapter 1

Privates Belle and Bloom sat on the edge of Ponyville Quay, waiting for the ride that would bring them to the centre of the most evil, untamed wilderness in Equestria. They were both closing in on their seventeenth year, having stayed close friends after gaining their cutie marks and graduating from school. Now the marks showing their special talents were covered by the mark of an expeditionary soldier; an insignia sewn onto their uniform showing their names, rank and which branch of the military they now belonged to. Being privates, their insignia held no chevrons or bars; just the words “Expeditionary Private” followed by their name printed in bold red capital letters.

The uniform consisted of a drab green zip-up coat and a bandolier of ammunition slung around the neck. In addition to this, they had large saddle bags filled with rations and other provisions. Each leg bore a band with the same insignia as the coat. Neither of them wore any armour or helmet. They were both armed with a griffon made self loading rifle, crudely modified so that any pony could fire it with a single limb once the weapon was strapped on and loaded. In a solid sheath on the chest rested a combat knife with a loop for a handle, designed for the undexterous hooves of an earth pony.

Every item of equipment supplied by the Equestrian Expeditionary Force was designed to cater to earth ponies. It was almost unheard of for a unicorn to enlist for a non-commissioned position, and pegasi were generally pressured into joining the Airborne, Air Force or Special Forces. These branches were considered to be the most prestigious in the Equestrian armed services; pegasi have a long tradition of being the military caste.

“I ‘preciate you joinin’ up with me,” Apple Bloom said to her friend.

“I could hardly let you run off and join the army on your own, could I?” Sweetie Belle smiled, “Cutie mark crusaders for life.”

“Cutie mark crusaders less one, yah mean.”

“I told Scootaloo they wouldn’t let her into the expeditionary with us. The silly little filly is probably awfully lonesome, surrounded by those big, brash stallions in the airborne. They’ve got a certain reputation for the way they treat mares, you know.”

The concern on the unicorn’s face gave way to a sleazy smile. She leaned closer to her earth pony friend and opened her mouth to say something before being cut off.

“Ya’all got a one track mind, you know that? ‘S not ladylike at all. I’d ‘a’ thought Rarity teach you better ‘n’ that.”

The pair shared a chuckle before a brief silence ensued. Looking down the river towards the Everfree Forest, Sweetie Belle shuddered. She joined the expeditionary without thinking it through. Her decision was spontaneous, prompted suddenly by Apple Bloom’s long thought out and reasoned choice to enlist. Looking down that river into the dark vegetation, she was starting to think she’d made a terrible mistake.

“Pretty creepy, huh?” Apple Bloom suddenly interrupted the silence, making her friend jump.

“Oh- er- yea,” the unicorn took a moment to snap back to reality, “I hope your family appreciates what you’re doing for them, plunging head on into THAT,” she gestured at the dark green mass downstream.

“Nah, they’re still mad at me. Not sure why. I mean, there weren’t really much other choice. The drought just cut down production more than the subsidies could make up for. With the whole town helpin’ out, we still weren’t breakin’ even. I would’ve found other work if I could’ve, but what else is there? I ain’t overly qualified, yaknow.”

“They just couldn’t stand seeing their little filly leaving them, I guess.”

“Well, ‘s not like we’re at war or nothin’. We’ll just be strollin’ between the Everfree and the Macintosh Hills for three years, collectin’ a nice paycheque and somethin’ ‘a’ put on our resume’ along the way.”

“There’s still those rebels out there. You’ve read it on the news. I mean, it’s just a handful of violent ponies, but it’s still nothing to sneeze at. Hey, I think that’s our ride.”

The quay was built on the Canterlot River, just north of where it split into two. To the south-east, it flowed through the Everfree Forest, meeting the ocean in Horseshoe bay, a major port hugged by Baltimare. Westward, it flowed through Whitetail Wood and meandered its way to the delta of Los Pegasus. Their destination lay down the former while their transportation was driving up the latter.

As the river patrol boat came towards the quay, the two soldiers studied it intently. It was a fairly large boat, about ten metres long and four metres in breadth at its widest point. The wheelhouse, which was also the bridge, sat a bit ahead of the middle, a simple metal frame to protect the skipper from the sun and light arms. At the bow and stern sat sinister looking mounted machine guns with solid shields around their barrels. Both of these turrets were fed from massive ammo boxes on their side, and had triggers which required an earth pony to stand bipedal. A wall of ceramic and metal armour surrounded the hull of the boat. The vehicle was painted a dull green-gray hue and had camouflage meshing strewn on its side, on the turrets and over the bridge. Smoke billowed from the rear engine that was propelling the heavy vessel.

Standing at the bow of the boat, his hoof strewn lazily across the turret he was supposed to be manning, was a young colt. His bright green eyes contrasted the dull brown of his coat. He wore a drab green button up vest which stopped at his flank. Each leg bore bands similar to those that Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle wore, however his saddle bags were much smaller than theirs. It was the lightweight uniform of an Equestrian Marine. The rank insignias on the bags and bands had two light blue horizontal bars, denoting him as a lance corporal. Seeing the soldiers to be picked up were mares, he struggled to tame his short and wind-blown blonde hair.

A blue mare with a red mane was laying at the stern, evidently napping. She wore the same uniform as the colt, but the stacked horizontal bars were replaced by three chevrons atop a single bar, showing that she had risen to the rank of chief sergeant.

In the cabin a large middle aged stallion steered the vehicle. His steely gray eyes matched his buzz cut mane and tail, and his coat looked like it would be white if it weren’t for the grime caking it. His uniform was the same in style as the other two, but it was coloured a deep navy blue and he wore a peaked cap. His insignia of three diamonds showed that he was a senior lieutenant.

As the boat bumped up against the quay, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom stood to attention and saluted, waiting for an invitation onto the boat.

“Wow,” laughed the lieutenant as he scrutinized the new arrivals, “you’re green as grass. Privates Bloom and Belle, right?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” the duo replied in unison.

“Hey, I might be commissioned, but I still work for my pay. Call me skipper. And, err, at ease.” He turned from them to address the napping mare, “Eh chief! Wake up and sort out these two.”

Lazily raising her head, the chief sergeant took one look at the land soldiers and groaned.

“Really, skipper?” she said incredulously, “we have to let land troops on a marine boat?”

“I don’t want to hear it-“

“I know, I know.” She turned to address Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, “Come on board, I’ll show you what’s what. That’s right, watch your step. We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, bumpkin. You too, bonehead. How the hay does a unicorn end up in the service without a commission anyway?”

“I could hardly let my, er, ‘bumpkin’ friend here enlist by herself,” Sweetie replied with a smile as she boarded the craft.

“Eh, fair enough. Anyway, pay attention because I’ll only say this once. This is our PBR – that is to say, patrol boat river. The skipper is in charge. After him, I’m in charge. After me, the little runt you see up front is in charge. After him, any other marine on board is in charge. If there are no marines on board, the boat descends into anarchy. At no point will you be in charge of her. You do NOT touch ANYTHING unless whoever is in charge of the craft clearly tells you to. It’s a simple piece of machinery, but it would absolutely boggle the minds of grunts like you. The grime on the deck could drive this boat better than you. Clear?”

“To be fair,” Sweetie Belle said with a playful smile, “the grime on the deck has a lot more experience on the boat than us.”

The chief sergeant flashed her eyes angrily at the unicorn, who quickly wiped the smile off her face and joined Apple Bloom in replying “Yes, chief sergeant!”

“Wonderful. How old are you anyway?”

“I’ll be seventeen in May; Apple Bloom here will be that old in July.”

“Oh, nice. Looks like we’re running a kindergarten. Hey private Bloom, do you always let this bonehead answer your questions? Don’t answer that. I suppose you Expeditionary rednecks can’t articulate an answer without a unicorn holding your hoof.”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle stood on the boat in silence, scowling at the mean-spirited mare. They knew there was something of a rivalry between the different branches of the military, but they were already getting sick of the verbal attacks. Every marine in the boat outranked them, so they decided to keep their retorts to themselves.

“Don’t mind her,” said the corporal from the front, “she don’t like non-marines so much.” He turned to the skipper before muttering “Hey, sixteen is legal ‘round these parts, right?”

“Smooth, kid. Smooth,” the skipper chuckled before flicking a switch and proceeding in a loud, clear tone, “PBR-471 departing Ponyville Quay 0800 hours, March 4th on the 2008th year of the alicorns’ reign. Picked up expeditionary privates Bloom and Belle. Headed to Horseshoe Bay, Baltimare. Making pickups and drop-offs at Checkpoint Charlie, Everfree Forest. Over.”

Static whirred for a moment before a voice came through on the radio, “Roger PBR-471. Low tide is at 0845 hours and the moon is full. You are clear to proceed with caution. Over. Out.”

Flipping the switch again, the skipper shook his head and said “Man, it’s bad enough floating through that creepy forest when you don’t have to worry about running aground. Ok, every pony, take a seat. We’re out of here.”

***

Celestia sat on her throne, smiling deviously to herself about how well her plan was coming together. She had delegated the necessary power and issued the necessary orders. Everything was just peachy. Equestria had been enjoying an unprecedented period of stability, peace and harmony for over five years. There was no denying that her sister’s return, some eight years ago, had been the catalyst for this perfect scenario. All the alicorns needed to do was keep the peace for a few more years and their plan could be executed.

As she mused over how wonderful life was about to become, a scroll materialised in front of her in a puff of red magic. She was going to assign one of her stewards to dealing with the business, but hesitated as she saw the red wax seal: a squinting eye superimposed over crossbones. It was the symbol of the Military Intelligence Force. Slowly peeling off the seal and unrolling the parchment, her heart began to sink. She knew this day was coming, but had desperately hoped it would come after she executed her plan. Taking her time to read the report, dread seemed to consume her entire being. This could ruin everything. She forwarded the letter to Luna before summoning her most loyal steward, who materialised before her almost instantly.

“Yes, your highness?” the aging gray unicorn greeted the alicorn with a bow.

“Call a war council. I want my sister, the Marshals, Colonel Spitfire and Colonel Underhoof in Canterlot as soon as possible. Don’t let word of our little meet up reach any pony but those invited. We don’t want the lords or the senators breathing down our necks.

“Understood, your highness.”

The steward teleported off on his errand and Celestia let out a disgruntled sigh. Everything had just become a lot more complicated.

Shallow Water: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Celestia entered the war room and saw that most of the invited ponies were already in attendance. They sat at a large round table and every one of them paused the business of shuffling papers around to pay their respects to the princess. The room itself was large and windowless with a high roof. Artificial light was cast from magical lanterns hovering near the ceiling, illuminating a beautiful fresco of the two alicorns curled around the iconic symbol of harmony; a fingernail moon hugging the sun. There was a door at one end of the room, directly facing the two gilded thrones, for the royalty to use. Opposite this was another double door for every pony else. Around the table were an additional seven chairs, considerably less magnificent than the alicorns’ thrones. Each chair was occupied by a important pony, except for the one at the far end of the room. Taking her seat at the throne next to her sister, Celestia waited for the final guest to arrive.

“Good morning, my little ponies!” declared Spitfire as she flew in the room, flinging the twin doors opposite Celestia open.

Every pony in the room paused their duties to greet the newcomer, much like they had for Celestia. Colonel Spitfire, although junior in rank, was one of the most respected ponies in the room. This was in no small part due to the fact that she could take out every pony on the council except for the alicorns in less than a minute with her bare hooves. She had resigned as captain of the Wonder Bolts about seven years earlier after being offered a position as the leader of a new military outfit, comprised of only the best pegasi in Equestria. It was part of a military reform put forward by Luna to slowly build a standing army, undermining the power of the aristocracy in favour of the monarchs.

“Seeing as we’re all here,” the room fell to silence as Celestia spoke, “let’s waste no time in getting down to business. Colonel Underhoof, you’re military intelligence. It’s probably best if you fill us in.”

A dark blue unicorn stallion with a white mane and eyeglasses stood up as he cleared his throat. “Thank you, your highness. As you all know, tensions in our southern colonies have been increasing over the past decade. A perception of inequality has come over our settler friends. They feel that they’re second class citizens compared to those of us in the homeland. The monarchy, in its wisdom, saw this problem and managed to quell it by assigning governors to represent the colonists’ interests. Most ponies have been satisfied with this, and we’ve been able to keep the few militants that opposed our regime suppressed,” he paused for breath and surveyed his audience, making sure none of them seemed confused or ready to interrupt.

“Despite this, a few rebellious factions popped up over the years,” he continued, “but we never cracked down on them for fear of creating a martyr. Better to have an odd skirmish than spark a full blown revolution. Now, it seems, these factions are getting more organised, in fact we have evidence that suggests they are cooperating with each other. They’re attempting to form a standing force, unified under one banner, presumably with the intention of undermining the alicorns’ regime. It looks like Luna’s military reforms may be about to pay for themselves, earlier than we had hoped.”

“You’re talking about a few thousand untrained, poorly armed insurgents rising up in the colonies,” replied Marshal Cossack, the old earth pony in charge of the Expeditionary Force, “All I need is a few free fire zones and some media cover-ups and we can crush these upstarts in a matter of months.”

“I’m afraid,” retorted the unicorn, “that it’s not so simple. These ponies are fighting a perceived injustice. We’ve been studying their philosophy; they don’t want to be treated the same as the ponies of the homeland. They want to be a free, democratic, sovereign state.”

“So?”

“So if we’re seen as oppressive, if we’re seen to fear them, or if we treat them like a political enemy, the sentiment will spread. There are already many ponies speaking out against their lords, and most ponies can’t differentiate between the aristocracy and the monarchy. If we don’t handle this situation delicately, we’ll have a revolution on our hooves.”

***

The PBR surged towards the Everfree Forest, cutting a trail of whitewash in the dark brown water. As soon as they hit the forest itself, an eerie coldness seemed to consume the whole craft, chilling the ponies to the bone. Reducing his vessel’s speed, the senior lieutenant narrowed his eyes in concentration, trying to judge the depth of the water ahead of him. The Everfree forest is not the sort of place you want to run aground.

“Hey, have I introduced myself yet?” the lance corporal asked of Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle as he leaned nonchalantly against his turret, “I’m lance corporal Juvenis. You can call me Juve. I’ve been on this boat for over a year now. Signed up for a four year stint in the marines soon as I turned sixteen. Thought it’d be an adventure, you know? Travelling all across Equestria, seeing new places. Turns out you never get much of a chance to get off the boat. How’d you two end up in the service?”

“Oh, er, howdy Juve,” replied Apple Bloom, “Mah name’s Apple Bloom. I joined so as to earn some cash for mah family. Not much other employment opportunities around, on account of the recession and the drought and all that.”

“I see, that must suck. You’ve got a real cute accent, you know. Sounds like you’re from down south.”

“Mah family’s the first to settle anything south of Canterlot, save for what ya find on the east coast,” her voice swelled with pride, “Mah grandma was a li’l filly when mah family founded Sweet Apple Acres.”

“That’s quite a story, Apple Bloom...” he trailed off.

Juvenis opened his mouth to say something else, but then furrowed his brow, as if confused. The skipper and chief smiled at each other, knowing what he was trying to say.

“So, you wanna bang later?”

The boat was silent for a moment as Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom stared at the colt incredulously. He looked back with a coy smile, which slowly faded from his face.

“How long was that?” the chief finally asked, breaking the silence.

“About eight minutes,” the skipper replied.

Smiling, the chief sauntered over to the skipper’s side and held out a hoof. He frowned at her, holding back a smile, and retrieved ten gold bits from his front pocket.

“Much obliged,” she said as she took the money and placed it in her own saddle bag before turning to the youngest ponies on the boat, “You see Juve here enlisted before he had much experience with the mares. You don’t get much leave when you’re on a PBR, either, so he hasn’t had a chance to get that experience. He doesn’t quite understand how to treat a lady. The skipper and I have contemplated setting him straight,” she grinned broadly, “but it’s much more fun seeing him flounder. We’ve started putting bets on how long he can last before saying something like that.”

“That’s just cruel,” Sweetie Belle smiled.

“Well, yea” the chief paused for a moment and grinned, before remembering her prejudice, “Oh, he’s sunk so low he’ll even take a girl in the Expeditionary Force.”

“Hell, why didn’t any pony warn me about this before I enlisted?” Juvenis smiled awkwardly, “Join the Marines, they said. It’ll be an adventure they said. Mares love a stallion in uniform, they said. Turns out that they’re full of it.”

“You joined the Marines to get laid?” Sweetie Belle inquired.

“Pretty much. I was about sixteen then, everything I did was to get some action. But like I said, I also thought it would be a great adventure, like you see in the movies. Of course there were other reasons...” his voice trailed off. His goofy smile was slowly fading, giving way to a look of deep thought. The other four ponies waited for him to continue.

“I mean,” he continued, “of course there was more to it than that. I don’t exactly come from the nicest part of Baltimare, you know. While I was growing up, all I wanted to do was get out of that slum. But,” he looked up at the two cutie mark crusaders and hesitated, “err, sorry for dampening the mood,” he finished.

The two youngest mares stared at Juvenis sympathetically. In a matter of minutes, their perception of him had gone from foolish colt with a one track mind, to a deep young stallion with a troubled past. A heavy silence hung in the air as the lance corporal desperately racked his brain for a way to bring the conversation back to a lighter note.

“So, err,” he forced a smile, “you don’t want to bang then?” he grinned up at the two mares, hoping against hope they would just roll their eyes and shrug him off. He didn’t like any pony thinking about him too much. His life before the Marines was no pony’s business but his own. It was bad enough when he vented his emotions to the skipper in personal conversations.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” the skipper chuckled as he came to the gunner’s rescue, “now shut up and keep your eyes peeled. I want the chief on the bow gun and the lance corporal on the stern. Privates, just keep an eye on the bank and call out if you see anything. There’s all kinds of weird critters in this forest who might take an inclination to attack us. Hop to it.”

Every pony obeyed him obediently, taking up their positions on the boat. As the silence he ordered ensued, the eeriness of the forest seemed to become more noticeable. The deeper they plunged, the darker, colder, and more humid it became. The foliage crept closer to the banks and became increasingly dense. It was impossible to tell whether the glowing eyes in the brush were real creatures or just the mind’s way of telling a pony that the forest is dangerous, and that they should leave. In any case, a deep fear and sense that they were being watched began to grip every pony on that boat.

“Ok, I know I told you to be quiet, but if some pony doesn’t say something soon I’ll go crazy,” the skipper said.

“Yea,” the chief tried to continue the conversation, “this forest is way too creepy. I’ve been on rivers and brown water my whole life. I’ve seen serious combat. Hay, my first deployment was way back when we put down the second Nightmare Moon insurgency. Since then I’ve fought countless pretenders, sympathisers, revolutionaries, you name it. In over eight years of military experience, this forest is without a doubt the most suffocating, eerie, unnatural thing I’ve ever had the displeasure of experiencing. How the hay can you Ponyville girls live in the shadow of this thing?”

“Don’t be such a baby, chief,” Sweetie Belle said casually, “Apple Bloom and I walked through this forest when we were just fillies, and the worst thing we came across was a cockatrice.”

“Yea, now look who’s full of it,” Juvenis said incredulously.

“It’s true. Our friend, Fluttershy, stared it down. Believe what you want to believe, but it happened.”

“Hey, if that’s true, you two have got guts,” stated the chief, “and you should’ve joined the real military. Marine Force needs good ponies. The Expeditionary is a bunch of useless cowards. Maybe if the rebels were more active they’d do something useful. As it stands, all they do is strut around like they own the place and treat the colonists like second class citizens,” she was raising her voice and becoming noticeably tense, “I mean, who thought it would be a good idea to take a bunch of violent, bored ponies from up north and shove them in the colonies anyway? Of course they’re going to cause trouble. Hay, most of the rebels we’ve had to gun down went militant in the first place because they were tired of putting up with the Expeditionary troops oppressing them.

Another silence ensued as Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle began drawing conclusions from the chief’s little rant. Juvenis had already drawn his conclusions, and the skipper knew about the troubled mare’s background already, but wouldn’t tell a soul unless she gave him permission. As an officer, he believed that the ponies in his command should be able to trust him completely, and vice versa. The time came, every so often, when they needed to trust each other with their lives. Besides, without understanding a pony, how can you really command them effectively?

“Take it easy, chief,” Apple Bloom finally said, against better judgement, “yer getin’ yerself all tightly wound up an’ flustered.”

“I’m getting wound up? That’s insubordination!” the chief said in a frustrated tone. The skipper raised an eyebrow at her, and she quickly abandoned that notion and searched for something else to throw at the land soldier.

“Ok, bumpkin, why don’t you take my position on the gun for a while,” she snapped, stepping down from the turret, “No, seriously, you’ll need the practice, we’re probably not going to run into any trouble, and I need a break. How about it, skipper?”

“Alright,” the skipper said reluctantly, “but keep your eyes peeled and be ready to grab your self-loading rifle on the off chance the forest gets hot.”

Apple Bloom took this as her cue to step up to the turret and grab it. She had some training with mounted weapons, but never on a boat.

“Pretty simple,” said the chief clearly, “just keep looking from bank to bank. The only way this baby differs from what you use in the expeditionary is that it’s got this here shield in front of it. If something starts squeezing off at you, keep yourself hunched behind it and you’ll be fine. All you really need to do is make sure you bend your front legs down, not out.”

Absorbing this information, Apple Bloom nodded in understanding. One hoof on the trigger and one resting on top of the gun, she swung it in an arc a few times for practice. Satisfied that she had it under control, she made herself comfortable and started scanning the impossible darkness cast by the forest on each bank.

Shallow Water: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The possibility of a revolution shocked the council. A heavy silence sunk in for a while, eventually broken by the youngest pony in attendance.

“You’re basically saying that the aristocracy will give the common pony an enemy to rally against,” Colonel Spitfire said, “Well, what if we abolished the aristocracy?”

The naivety of the young colonel prompted a chuckle from many of the council members.

“Do the math, colonel,” Celestia said, “There are twenty-five noble families in Equestria. Each of them has their own loyal, highly trained military, on average about three thousand ponies strong, as is their right under the Limitata Monarchia,” she shot a spiteful glance at her sister before continuing, “We figure they could each recruit at least one thousand more once they start mass recruitment and drafting. Another ten or so thousand hardline conservatives from all across Equestria would join them, and another five thousand would betray our own military. You want to quell a rebellion of a few thousand ponies by abolishing the lords? Great, then we’d just have to deal with the one hundred and fifteen thousand ponies rising up in response. Believe me, I’d send the lords to the moon if I could. They oppress their constituents, make my job hard and undermine my power. Why do you think we’ve been beefing up the military over the past decade?”

“You planned to start a war with the lords?”

“A war between the lords and the monarchy is inevitable. There hasn’t been a century since I had to sign the Limitata Monarchia," she shot another glance at Luna, “without at least one such conflict. Every century it gets more violent, but every century it results in a return to the status quo. Given a few decades, we might be able to finally take them. We’ve excelled past them in terms of technology and firepower, and we’re catching up to their numbers. My sister’s reforms might finally undo the damage dealt by her rebellion a thousand years ago.”

“Again, I’m sorry,” Luna said, having finally mastered the modern dialect, “I lost control and acted foolishly, forcing you to sacrifice the rightful royal power to guarantee the aristocrats' loyalty. I've been working tirelessly to return Equestria to the rightful order of things. If it weren't for this present thorn in our side, we could act within a few years.”

“Well, this has been eye opening," Spitfire said, "All these big speeches about “securing Equestria’s future with a standing army” and “superior forces as a means to prevent conflict rather than escalating it” have been a cover for building an army to overthrow the lords?”

“That’s exactly right.”

Spitfire was stunned, but a smile was slowly creeping across her face. Like most modern ponies, she despised the nobility. They were immensely wealthy and treated their constituents like the scum of the earth. None of them had earned their title; it was passed down the family, along with their psychopathic lack of empathy. The ponies living in the region around Cloudsdale, Ponyville and Canterlot had it lucky; the benevolent princesses acted as the lords of the Central Heartland, also called the royal province. Spitfire had always been loyal to the Alicorns, and this new development sturdied her resolve to serve the monarchy. There was really only one way it could possibly be better.

“So,” Spitfire inquired, “when the lords are gone, who gets their power?”

“We’re going to completely rewrite the political system,” Celestia declared, “Luna and I will act as the nation’s heads of government, heads of state and commanders in chief. Of course, we can hardly run the whole nation ourselves. After this nightmare with the aristocrats, we’ve reached the conclusion that those who hold seats of power must be replaced regularly, and we must be able to overrule their decisions where necessary. The senate springs to mind.”

“The plan then,” mused Spitfire, “is to quell this uprising, overthrow the aristocrats, then establish a semi democratic government run by you benevolent alicorns?”

“That’s the plan,” confirmed Celestia, smiling at the young colonel’s enthusiasm.

***

If possible, the wickedness of the Everfree Forest seemed to increase as the PBR slowly progressed downstream. It rapidly changed from the temperate woodland near Ponyville to a boggy mangrove swamp. The trees were fairly sparse closer to the bank, but the seamless canopy cast a dark shadow over all, creating the illusion that the forest was in fact growing denser. In the vast wetland, it was becoming difficult to see the borders between the river itself and the wet quagmire. Further upstream the environment had at least been somewhat familiar to the duo of young mares, but now the foliage was unlike anything they’d ever seen.

The added responsibility of keeping the craft safe began to weigh heavily on Apple Bloom. Rebel activity had been virtually nonexistent for half a decade, but the various creatures lurking in the darkness were an ever present danger. Every tree, every shadow, every bush and every boggy hole could be hiding some foul creature. What if she let the marines down? She might end up being responsible for their deaths. Even if she screwed up and every pony survived, the humiliation would be unbearable.

Apple Bloom began having visions of failure. Rebels crawled out from behind the trees and started firing, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t hit them. Crying in desperation, the mare on the machine gun just couldn’t land the lead downrange. She saw the skipper and chief screaming at her in furious disbelief. The chief was yelling about how incompetent the Expeditionary soldiers are, and the skipper was berating her for putting his boat in danger. Juvenis was desperately trying to protect the vessel by himself. Sweetie Belle had taken a bullet to the chest and was bleeding out, screaming in agony as she tried to put pressure on her wound. The unicorn looked up at her as if to say “I joined for you, and you couldn’t even protect me”.

The paranoid mare was snapped back to reality by a sudden movement on the bank. There’s no way she’d let that happen! Resolving not to hesitate lest she let the crew down, the inexperienced young soldier began firing upon the bank, being sure to operate the machine exactly as she’d been trained to.

The gun roared deafeningly, spraying innumerable rounds at deadly speed into that evil forest. Less than a second after Apple Bloom held down the trigger a loud curse came from the stern of the boat, immediately followed by the roar of Juvenis’s turret. Both these ponies gritted their teeth, spraying bullets in wide arcs across the bank, desperately trying to keep the unseen enemy at bay.

As the boat surged forward with renewed speed the skipper crouched down for protection, keeping his eyes ahead, blocking everything from his mind save the path of his PBR. He hoped against hope that his gunners could handle whatever pony or creature was attacking them by themselves as he guided the vessel through the bog.

Sweetie Belle scrambled around on the deck before attaching her SLR to her hoof and leaning over the side of the boat to add her own firepower. Her semiautomatic fire was barely noticeable compared to the rain of the stern and bow turrets. The enemies must have been some distance up the bank hiding in the darkness, because no pony could place a bead on them. All three of the firing ponies desperately searched the bank, their paranoia causing them to fire blind, convincing themselves that they had their targets pinned down.

“CEASEFIRE, CEASFIRE!” the chief roared furiously, “What the hay are you three shooting at?”

Every pony immediately obeyed the order and jumped in their skin, looking up at the chief sergeant. She was standing tall on three legs, her right front hoof holding a rifle aloft. Her entire body swelled to an immense size. Light itself seemed to be shying away from her terrifying form. She was quivering with anger, teeth bared and eyes narrowed. Her face showed a barely restrained violent rage. The mare, highly experienced in the art of killing, seemed to radiate power and demand respect.

“I said,” she repeated in little more than a whisper, “What were you shooting at?”

The ensuing silence seemed to answer her question. There was no returned fire, no cries of pain from the bank, no roaring monster, nothing. The only noise cutting though the quiet was the hiss of the boiling hot turrets. It matched the mood perfectly.

As Apple Bloom swallowed in fear and guilt, she looked around for an excuse. With a great effort, she broke eye contact with the chief and looked over at the skipper, who was shaking his head in disbelief as he returned to his regular posture and resumed a safe cruising speed. Sweetie Belle was biting her lip nervously, and slowly going about the business of slinging the rifle on her back. Juvenis was staring at the ground, his cheeks bright red.

Beneath the iron gaze of the senior NCO, the guilty mare summoned the courage to reply “I saw-”

“You didn’t see anything, private!” the chief interrupted furiously, “You freaked out and started spraying bullets everywhere. I’ve seen it before, but for some reason I keep thinking you damn Expeditionary kids can be trusted behind a mounted gun without shooting at shadows. Why did I think you could handle this? You land troops have always been trigger happy.”

The victim of the verbal assault shrank from the chief, slowly backing away from the weapon. She muttered an apology.

The chief turned to Juvenis to continue her lecture, “You’ve been in the military, what, two years? You’re supposed to be a hardened soldier by now, not a little filly who starts spraying at the drop of a hat! Sweet Celestia, the two of you must’ve wasted over a thousand rounds of ammo. Yea, it’s ok for you; you’re not the one who has to fill out the paperwork explaining what happened to all that ammo when we didn’t hit any combat. You call yourself a marine? I’ve seen ponies in the coastguard with more military professionalism than you. You’re an immature, incompetent foal.”

Finally, she turned to the unicorn before continuing, “And why the hay did you join in? You’re using a weapon built for precision, not spray. Were you lining up the shots on those shadows? The expeditionary force should be proud to have such a marksman in its ranks.”

“Every pony else was doing it,” Sweetie Belle replied in an innocent tone as if she was a school filly addressing a teacher, “it was peer pressure, miss. Please don’t tell mom!” she finished the statement with a cheeky smile.

“Wise one, huh? Yea, you boneheads are so smart. Wonder if you’ll be such a smartass when your quartermaster wants to know what happened to your ammo. The expeditionary is real fickle when it comes to supplies. They’re not fans of unicorns at the best of times. You’re in for a hell of a deployment if you keep that attitude up.”

Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Juvenis sat in guilty silence as the chief resumed her position on the front turret. She inspected it, as if she expected to find that the silly filly had somehow broken it, before finishing her speech.

“You’ve wasted our ammo and caused some wear-and-tear for our equipment, but I’m really more worried about you. All three of you have shown a true incompetence today. If you don’t take this as a lesson, it will bite you in the flank if you ever get into a real fire fight. You probably hate me right now. Good. That means my message will sink in.”

The two land soldiers sat next to each other, taking comfort in each other’s proximity. Both the skipper and the chief were staring straight ahead with stone hard unemotional faces. At the back of the boat, Juvenis sat by himself. The coldness radiated by the forest and his comrade seemed to be sinking into his soul, putting him in a truly depressed mood.

Shallow Water: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sweetie Belle placed a comforting hoof over her friend’s back. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” she said, “stuff happens, right? Like the chief said, we just gotta learn from this. It’ll make us better ponies in the long run, really.”

“I ain’t feelin’ like a better pony right now, I can tell yah that.”

“You’re green as grass,” Juvenis said, having overheard their private conversation, “At least you’ve got an excuse, you know? I’ve been in the marines for about two years now. This isn’t exactly an isolated incident for me either. I’m just clumsy, you know? I get no respect, and no matter how hard I try I can never seem to do anything right, except in a total fluke. Take a look at my rank. Two bars, a lance corporal. Not too shabby for a pony as young as me.”

“Now, this first bar I got before they put me on a boat,” he continued, “less than a month after I finished basic. My platoon was strollin’ though Hayseed Swamp. I freaked out, much like you did just now, and started spraying into a bush. Just so happened there was a cockatrice hiding in it. How a cockatrice got there? I dunno, but when they commended me on my quick thinking, alertness and heroism, I wasn’t about to admit it was just a panic attack. This second bar I got ‘cause they decided to put me on a boat for some reason, and the senior officers don’t like putting anything below a NCO behind one of these turrets, for reasons that are probably obvious to you now. Of course, they didn’t think it’d make me a better shooter or anything, it just looks nicer on paper. If they have a higher rank on a gun, it’s easier for HQ to cover their ass if anything goes wrong, you know. Brass is so full of it.”

“You’re complaining about getting promoted for nothing?” Sweetie Belle asked incredulously.

Juvenis considered this carefully for a moment before realising it wasn’t meant to be taken seriously, letting out an awkward chuckle. The other two youngsters were quick to join in, and the noise swelled into a hearty laughter. They weren’t laughing at anything in particular. No pony had made a terribly funny joke or observation. They were simply laughing with each other. Laughing because it felt good.

“Well, it’s nice to see you kids getting along,” the skipper called as he casually studied the young soldiers over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow and smiling wryly, “mind if you let me in on the big joke?”

The laughter subsided, but the mood remained high as the trio loudly tried to come up with a suitable explanation.

“Oh, you was laughing at nothing?” the skipper paused for a moment, his grin broadening before he delivered the punch line, “That’s great, I’ve got my back to three crazy ponies with a machinegun.”

He chuckled at his own joke. The three youngsters quickly joined his mirth, more out of good spirit than because they thought his joke was funny. Laughter, after all, is contagious.

“Hey,” replied Juvenis, trying to keep the joke going, “as long as you speed up and get me out of this creepy forest soon, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Ya’all Marines are babies,” Apple Bloom smiled, “yer on a nigh indestructible boat, outfitted with these here turrets, and ya’all still scared of the Everfree. Why, I was just a little filly when I went roamin’ into the forest all by mah lonesome.”

“Now why the hay did you do that?”

“Oh, there was this zebra knockin’ about in our town, and no pony trusted her on account of her, err, uniqueness. Anyways, I followed her into the Everfree so as to get some understandin’ of her, and then again to help her fix the condition mah sister and her friends suffered after they went and walked through some poison joke the first time they ‘rescued’ me. Point is, ya’all are chicken.”

“Oh, I’m chicken?” the skipper retorted in a good-humoured tone, “who was it that started spraying randomly into that forest a moment ago?”

“I, err,” Apple Bloom blushed, “point taken.”

The four ponies continued to make small talk, sharing anecdotes and lessons learned. It seemed that the two land soldiers were finally being accepted by their experienced marine comrades. Even the chief began to glance over at the clique, pondering whether she should join in or not. The two young mares were Expeditionary, sure, but they seemed alright. Even the earlier panic seemed increasingly understandable as Apple Bloom told more about herself. To the hardened chief, the two new arrivals were becoming more than just expeditionary soldiers. They were finally becoming real ponies to her; real ponies with families, friends, lives, motives and emotions.

The chief sergeant opened her mouth and smiled, preparing to join the conversation. The warmth of the other ponies’ laughter was melting her heart, which had been frozen after seeing so much suffering. These two young, innocent mares were motivating her to finally open up about herself. As she prepared to interrupt, she pondered why she’d never had a truly open discussion about her past before. It was fear, mostly. Seeing the four ponies doing it so easily made it much less intimidating.

Before she had a chance to talk, something on the west bank caught her eye. Her mouth slowly closed and became dry. Her eyes became wide in fear and disbelief. Scrambling to her position behind the turret and spinning it towards her target in one smooth, fast motion, she cried at the top of her lungs “Three o’clock, contact! Targets crouching low ten metres up the bank. Fire, fire, fire!”

With that, every pony leapt into action.

Shallow Water: Chapter 5

Chapter 5

There was no mistaking it this time; there were flashes of gunfire coming from the bank. As the chief said, the ponies attacking the vessel were dug in a fair distance up the bank. Evidently, they didn’t want to get caught in the bog. It was difficult to tell, but Apple Bloom judged that there were a dozen or so ponies attacking the boat with various light arms. Just as she was musing about how stupid it was of them to try and take out a heavily armoured boat that could simply speed past them, a loud crash rang out and the boat ground to a halt.

“These bastards are prepared,” called the skipper in despair, “they’ve laid a whole lot of rocks down on the river, the thing’s blocked. We’re sitting ducks!”

Without a word, the only unicorn on the boat shoved her SLR into the officer’s forelegs and began levitating the stones, hurling them away with great haste. Nodding with approval, the skipper fired at his targets, simultaneously reversing the boat at top speed away from the barrier. The vessel's top speed in reverse wasn't very high, and he quickly abandoned his idea. Sweetie Belle’s strategy was slow work, but it was the best option they had.

No pony was hesitant in such a life or death situation. The chief’s philosophising about how every pony has a life was quickly forced out of her mind by the adrenalin fuelled instinct of self preservation. Fight. Kill. Survive. Every pony in the fire fight felt the same way. Truly, it was either kill or be killed.

The ponies in the forest were making good use of the natural cover. Lying prone in the foliage, they were invisible until they gave their position away by moving or firing. Even if they had the inclination to move, the inaccurate yet powerful spray of lead from the boat’s turrets had them pinned down, although no shot made its mark. This continuous barrage gave the skipper and private the cover they needed to take well aimed shots.

Apple Bloom got a bead on one of the bolder rebels who decided to push towards the bank. Shooting her clean through the head, the soldier smiled to herself, taking pride in her fine marksmanship. She took no time to consider the loss of Yellow Smiles, the eighteen-year-old mare who was forced to abandon her dreams of being a teacher when her family was caught in a violent crossfire down in New Apple Loosa. She was left orphaned, and picked up by the rebels who took pity on this little filly on the brink of marehood. They took her in and showed her the only life any of them had ever known. She wanted to finally prove her worth to her faction with a heroic charge into enemy fire. Now she laid dead, her troubled mind spilled on the forest floor.

A single whistle rang out, barely audible over the gunfire and yelling. Shortly thereafter, it was joined by several others. About half a dozen high pitched whistles were now punctuating the sounds of battle. This was immediately followed by the incomprehensible yelling of several voices.

“Damn it!” the skipper cried, firing Sweetie Belle’s weapon into the forest, “Keep the unicorn covered. It’s about to get real hairy!”

With the boat now stationary, the rebels were pushing their attack. The forest suddenly came alive with movement. At least thirty of the desperate volunteers were swarming in the forest on the western bank, and it seemed more and more were joining them. They were spread out and staying low, covering an area too large for the ponies aboard the stationary PBR to keep them pinned down. As the gunners swung an arc in one direction, the rebels would hit the dirt and take cover while their comrades further down the bank pushed closer to the boat. Using this tactic, they managed to slowly advance towards the boat with minimal casualties.

Despite the efforts of the five ponies of the Equestrian military, a small group of the rebels managed to take cover right in the bog, mere metres away from the boat. Here, they had a much better shot at their well armed, impenetrably armoured target. It was truly built like a tank; the rebels’ only hope was to take down the crew. They knew they had at least a few hours before any Marine reinforcements would arrive. Their plan was to keep the crew occupied on the west bank while another small force crossed the river further downstream to assault from the other bank. The turrets' shields only offered protection from one direction. All they had to do was keep the marines away from the wheelhouse, take down the unicorn and sit tight.

“Reloading,” cried Juvenis in a desperate, terrified tone.

One of the rebels in the bog overheard this cry and called out to his comrades deeper in the forest, “He’s reloading! Quickly, get that thing up here and set it up! We need to take out that unicorn.”

Apple Bloom was taken aback upon hearing the enemy’s voice, but kept slinging lead at any rebel who decided to jump out into the open. “That can’t be good,” she said, turning her rifle towards an area further away from the river’s edge where several ponies were desperately flattening themselves against the ground as they set up some sort of turret, “Two o’clock, they’re setting up arty or something. Chief, you best help me spray ‘em down!”

The next few seconds seemed to take an eternity. Apple Bloom leaned over the side of the boat and aimed down her sights at one of the rebels by the turret. Juvenis continued to slowly reload his turret, a look of mad determination in his eyes. The Chief frantically spun her gun to face the rebel’s own turret. The skipper, being experienced enough to know what would happen next, dropped to a prone and tried to order the ponies in his command to do the same, but the violent drop had winded him.

“NOW!” called one of the ponies in the bog in the loudest, most desperate voice imaginable.

Immediately following this order, every single rebel in the forest sprang out from their cover and barraged the boat with an insane amount of lead. Even the initial twin hail from the boat’s turrets paled in comparison to the killing power being directed at the PBR. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle hit the deck immediately. Neither of them were hit, but they were forced to abandon their duties as they were pinned down.

“AH, GOD!” the shrill, chilling cry came from the front of the boat.

Cursing loudly, Apple Bloom leopard crawled her way to the bow and saw the chief sergeant writhing in pain on the deck, nursing her foreleg. She scampered to her side and inspected the wound; a bullet had passed clean through the limb.

“Just keep firing!" the chief ordered through clenched teeth.

The synchronised fire from the rebels had ceased, but it had been replaced by the unmistakeable roar of a machinegun. Evidently, the rebels had covered their comrades long enough to set the device up. Even so, the lapse in fire from the PBR, which had lasted less than ten seconds, sturdied the resolve of the rebels and many of them were pushing the attack once again.

With a moment’s hesitation, the expeditionary soldier jumped on the turret and returned the rebels’ machinegun fire. Apple Bloom was quick to cut down their hope, just as her bullets cut down the swarm like a hot knife through butter. They screamed in dismay, and those that could immediately shrank back behind cover. Those that couldn’t either flattened themselves on the ground in desperation, made feeble attempts to escape, or simply stood motionless, accepting their fate. The mare on the boat’s machinegun felt a surge of power. A cruel smile crawled onto her face as she dominated the ponies who had incapacitated her chief.

“Reloaded,” Juvenis said as he finally added his own rain of bullets. The skipper took this as a cue to resume firing into the forest with Sweetie Belle’s SLR. This gave her the cover she needed to get her job done.

The battle proceeded a few more minutes before Sweetie Belle called out “There, try it now!”

Leaping to his wheelhouse, the skipper made his PBR accelerate with such a great speed that every pony on board was thrown off balance for a moment. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the path ahead. Gripping the wheel with all his strength, he gritted his teeth as the boat hit the barrier with a clunk. The PBR slowed down but managed to force its way through the weakened wall nonetheless. Still firing into the forest as a precaution, the ponies of Equestria’s military left the rebels in their wake.

Shallow Water: Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Checkpoint Charlie was a small clearing around the Everfree River, surrounded by a tall wooden palisade to keep the creatures of the forest out. A path ran through the camp, coming in from the west gate, crossing the river with a sturdy wooden bridge, and exiting through the eastern gate. It was one of the only safe crossing points in the Everfree Forest. Apart from the gates, the only way in or out was via the river. For this purpose, there was a small dock right in the middle of the checkpoint. Rows of barracks, mess halls and offices ran down the camp, all either crudely constructed with logs or permanent tents.

As the PBR approached the checkpoint, all ponies onboard gawked at the amount of activity. Every pony was wearing Expeditionary Force uniforms, the same as Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, and running around in a frantic chaos. They were carting supplies to a fro or hurrying off to new posts as officers stood by and barked orders. A bit over two hundred ponies were stationed at the checkpoint, and all of them seemed to be running around madly. The sight would have made Discord himself grow green with envy.

“What the hay is going on here?” the skipper mused, steering the boat parallel to the rickety wooden dock, “Hey, we’ve got a wounded pony over here! Medic!”

A scared looking stallion, his red diamond insignia denoting him as an ensign, galloped up the dock. Two stretcher bearers followed closely behind him as he called down to the marines “Don’t worry, we’ve got the knowhow and facilities to stabilise her. We can take care of her from here,” he helped load the wounded marine onto the stretcher before continuing, “These the two mares we’re expecting?”

“Yea, we’re dropping these two off and picking up a few more for rec leave in Baltimare.”

“There’s been a change of plans. We need all hooves on deck here, all leave passes have been cancelled. Your new orders are to head down to Baltimare yourself. We’ve organised everything over landline; it’s all very secret and can’t be said over radio. They’ve got a new gunner for you, and you’ll be ferrying marines all around the Hayseed Swamps. Something big’s about to go down,” he turned to face the two new arrivals before continuing, “you chose a hay of a time to enlist. Report to Ensign Riggs, one of his squads isn’t quite full. You can find him on the west side of the bridge. Move it, privates, that’s an order!”

“Well,” said Apple Bloom, turning to the marines, “it’s been-“

“Shake a leg, privates!" the ensign interrupted with great volume, "Get moving, on the double. Can’t you see it’s all hooves on deck?”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle disembarked the vessel. They hustled down the dock with only a hasty farewell, conscious of the impatient stare from the ensign who wanted to get the marine vessel off the base as soon as possible. They halted where the wooden dock joined the land, where Sweetie Belle turned to face the boat one last time. She winked and blew a kiss to Juvenis, who blushed and shrunk away from the pretty white mare.

The skipper shook his head and smiled before bidding farewell to his faithful chief sergeant and pulling away from the dock. As he sped away, he waved back at the three ponies he had left at the checkpoint, but didn’t make eye contact. He never liked having to leave good ponies behind.

Before the dock officer had a chance to snap at them again, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom trotted towards the bridge. Smiling at each other, the two young mares eagerly hurried off into their new hell.

2: Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 1

Part Two: Checkpoint Charlie

Chapter 1

Privates Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle of the Equestrian Expeditionary Force hustled through Checkpoint Charlie, searching for an Ensign Riggs who would give them further orders. It was clear that the checkpoint was on high alert; the two hundred odd ponies stationed there were hurrying about frantically, carting deforestation tools, ammunition and defensive armaments to the tall wooden palisade. Awkwardly weaving their way around all these busy ponies, the two teenage mares made their way to the wooden bridge across the Everfree River near the middle of the checkpoint.

They had little difficulty in finding the ensign. His size rivalled Big Macintosh’s. The drab green expeditionary uniform complimented his caramel coat and uneven, dark brown mane. His face was cracked and worn, the affect of a life of hard work under the sun. He was a southern workhorse, and he looked very out of place wearing an officer’s peaked cap in the cold forest. Apple Bloom squinted at his insignia and read words “EXPEDITIONARY ENSIGN RIGGS”. This was the stallion they wanted. As they approached, they heard him issuing orders to one of his sergeants in a smooth, deep drawl.

“-I don’t give a damn if it does take you all night,” he said in a thick accent that echoed the southern colonies, “the Major wants a good twenty-five metre clearance, and we can’t light it up ‘till there’s a good five metres between anything flammable and the palisade. Take your squad and get to work. We’re only as strong as our laziest pony, and I don’t want to be picking up your slack!”

“On it, Riggs,” replied the chief sergeant before trotting off and preparing the speech to her own insubordinates.

Satisfied that all the squads in his platoon had their orders, the ensign prepared to report to his senior officer. He was stopped by the two new arrivals that trotted up in front of him and saluted stiffly.

“Private Belle reporting for duty, sir!”

“Private Bloom reporting for duty, sir!”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, the officer clapped his hoof to his face before replying, “Am I running a kindergarten here? No time for the formalities, children. Head out the west gate and find Chief Sergeant Whistle. She’s best to sort out all the practical stuff with you. We’ll sort out the paperwork tomorrow. Dismissed.” Without waiting for a reply, the officer trotted off on some apparently much more important errand.

The two young mares shrugged at each other before heading down the road to the gate. They weaved through the hurrying soldiers, struggling to find their way in the busy camp. Every pony was ignoring the two rookies, going about their business as if they didn’t even exist. With the base on high alert, no pony had the time for the young mares.

They eventually managed to find the west gate, which was flung wide opened. It didn’t pose much of a security risk. An ununiformed pony would stand out like a sore thumb on the sea of green. There was a line of about fifty ponies working at the forest, all along the outside of the western palisade. They were attacking it ferociously with axes, machetes and bare hooves. It didn’t look like they were making much progress against the thick dark green. The vegetation couldn’t have been more than a metre from the edge of the wooden wall.

Luckily for Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, Chief Sergeant Whistle had a way of standing out in a crowd. She stood tall over any mare, and stallions seemed to shy away from her as she patrolled up and down the line of working ponies, surveying them intently, making sure no pony slacked off. Her coat was violet and her mane fell in an unkempt gray mess. She waved a hoof about confidently whenever she took a moment to stop and issue orders to her insubordinate NCOs, revealing the insignia on her leg bands: three chevrons atop a bar. Above this were the words “EXPEDITONARY CHIEF SERGEANT” and beneath it, “WHISTLE”. A cigarette hung out of her mouth. The two Ponyville mares pushed their way to the chief sergeant and reported for duty in the same manner they had to the ensign.

“Duty? Look around you! Find a free spot and get logging. See that sergeant there?” here she waved a hoof at a yellow mare with a hatchet gripped between her teeth, “Her squad is two ponies short, so Riggs will probably put you with her when we finally make your welcome official. It’s squad four. May as well get to know them.”

“Der I lerk-” the sergeant spat out her axe before continuing, “Do I look like I’m running a kindergarten over here, chief?”

“We’ve been getting that a bit,” muttered Sweetie Belle.

“You still here?” the chief sergeant tilted her head and paused, before bellowing “GET TO WORK!”

As if the booming voice of the NCO had stirred them to action, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle scrambled to join the line of ponies labouring away at the impossibly thick forest.

***

Apple Bloom stood almost shoulder to shoulder with her comrades, Sweetie Belle to the left and a corporal who hadn’t said anything yet to the right. She raised her hind legs and struck the tree in front of her, thinking that years of apple bucking might finally pay off. It shook lightly and lost a few leaves, but other than that there was no damage. She bucked again and again, but quickly realised that the method she’d been taught over the years was designed specifically to avoid damaging the precious trees.

Cocking her hindquarters back like the hammer on a revolver for one final smash, she took aim and released all the energy she could muster at the tree. This time, the tree gave way with a light crack. She grinned in triumph before inspecting the damage. She had managed to chip away a small splinter of wood. Her smile quickly faded.

A chuckle came from her right. “Come on dearie, we’ll be out here all night at that rate,” the corporal said to her in a cheerful tone.

He was a light brown stallion with a tall, lean build. His mane and tail were an orange-red which, along with his freckles, no doubt caused him endless grief during his foalhood. Rendering his eyes invisible to any pony who might try to read his face was a pair of reflective aviators. His mouth seemed to be twisted into a perpetual smile, but it was impossible to tell if it was good natured or mocking.

“My name is Corporal Whisk,” he continued, “but you can call me Whiskey, it suits me much better. Now, if you’ve got a notion to work on the foliage here with yeh bare hooves, that’s fine. Leave the tools for the ponies who know what they’re doing, am I right?” he paused and held the hatchet strapped to his hoof aloft before continuing, “but we’re not pickin’ cherries here. You won’t even be able to get to the poor end of nowhere fast if you go on like that. Your best bet is to clear all this little crap,” he waved his axe at the vines and bushes between the trees, “so that the big ponies can go to town on the trees. You got that?”

“Yea, I got it,” Apple Bloom replied. She opened her mouth again, wanting to say more in response to the corporal who she would be serving with. Just as she turned to make a witty quip, she was cut off.

“Sweet Celestia’s flank,” remarked Whiskey, “do my eyes deceive me or is that, genuinely, a unicorn. In the expeditionary. Without a commission,” he paused for dramatic effect before finishing his statement with exaggerated emphasis, “doing MANUAL LABOUR?!”

Sweetie Belle, using her magic, teeth and hooves, uprooted a large bush and dragged it aside before smiling at the corporal.

“Oh, indeed,” she replied in the most overly pompous voice she could muster, “I enlisted into this pony’s armed service in order to experience the plight of the common mare. Father wished for me to follow in his footsteps and study at the University of Manehattan and become a prosperous job creator, but I promptly disregarded his thoughts as to follow my own inclination.”

“Go easy on the sarcasm,” said the yellow sergeant, who was standing to the right of her corporal, “Corporal Whisk here will smile and shrug it off, as he does with everything, but some of the other ponies here might somehow take it as the unicorn acting superior. Welcome to the squad, by the way. My name’s Sergeant Avalon.”

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom paused and looked at the sergeant peculiarly for a moment. It was the weirdest name either of them had ever heard. What talent would an “Avalon” have?

Avalon rolled her eyes. She was used to explaining her name at this point. “My name comes from west coast mythology,” she said, “Myth is, there’s an island out west that’s more or less perfect called Avalon. Anyway, I was left at the doorstep of an orphanage, and one of the nuns named me Avalon after that myth. It represents hope, in simplest terms. You know, when I was growing up in Los Pegasus I’d sit by the coast and look out to sea, convincing myself that out there was a really perfect place. A place I could call home. A new world. Anyway, as I grew older I stopped believing in those mare tales. I lied about my age to join the marines when I was fifteen. They found out I lied and kicked me out two years later. Ironically, by then I was old enough to enlist, but they said my dishonesty must be punished. Well, I just went off and enlisted in the expeditionary. Did a three year stint, went back to Los Pegasus and remembered there’s nothing for me there, so I enlisted for another three years. Now that that’s almost over, I’m getting ready to enlist for another stint.”

“You know, you’re a regular patriot, sarge. It’s a truly noble thing to...” The corporal trailed off before he could finish his statement. He sensed a powerful presence behind him. He looked at the two newcomers and mouthed “She’s standing right behind me, isn’t she?” before twisting his mouth into another smile.

“Whiskey, stop corrupting the youth,” Chief Sergeant Whistle said incredulously before turning to the privates, “don’t let him fool you. Sure he seems like a nice enough guy, but all’s he trying to do now is get you in a false sense of security, so he can rob you blind when he offers you a hand of poker later on. Now get back to it, all I wanna see is asses and elbows, every pony! I’ll keep you here all night if I have to.”

Stirred back into action by their chief, all the ponies in the platoon suddenly laboured on with renewed vigour. Satisfied, Whistle decided that they could work without her breathing down their necks for a while and began attacking the forest herself. She chose a spot next to Whiskey, who cursed under his breath and made sure to look busy.

The other soldiers knew she wasn’t being serious about keeping them outside the palisade after dark. She wasn’t a sadist. Even the well armed, well trained, hardened soldiers of Checkpoint Charlie feared the Everfree at night. The fear was amplified by a growing sense of anticipation. This wasn’t standard procedure.

Something big was going down. The senior officers wouldn’t say what, but every pony knew that their job was about to get a lot harder. Like animals, their fear grew from each others fear. One soldier would see something; a sympathetic look from the major, a distressed communications officer, or an unusual order, like clearing the impenetrable Everfree Forest, and start jumping to conclusions. They would be quick to share their thoughts with their comrades, and, as they are wont to do, the rumour would snowball into something outstanding. It was the herd mentality in a nutshell. Even with the overimaginative minds of 200 young ponies, they couldn’t anticipate what was to come.

Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The soldiers of Checkpoint Charlie were thoroughly disappointed by the fire. They had expected a roaring inferno to sweep across the Everfree. Even the major, a mare who had been hardened by three decades of military service, had stood by excitedly when each platoon lit their respective patches of the forest. Far removed from the expectation, the Everfree barely took the flame. The wet, green wood combined with the magical energies which had always protected the forest from pony meddling kept the heat at bay. Only the vegetation immediately around the fuel was burned.

Once the fire had died down, there was about twenty metres of scorched earth separating the forest from the palisade. It was less than the major wanted, but she decided that it would be unwise to send her troops outside again. It would be getting dark soon, and she didn’t like having her ponies outside at the best of times. She gave the order over the checkpoint’s loudspeakers, informing the ponies that they could relax until the morning.

“That major doesn’t know what she’s doing,” grumbled Lieutenant Malum, a small white unicorn stallion, to Ensign Riggs as they made their way to his office, “the rabble needs to be kept busy. If we leave them to their own devices, they may very well begin questioning the authority of their betters. They need to be kept well worked and disciplined. No offence, but they should never make an earth pony a senior officer. They are too sympathetic to the masses, and therefore inclined to allow their emotions cloud their judgement.”

“If you say so, sir,” the ensign replied, keeping his face as expressionless as possible.

“That’s not to say an earth pony cannot improve themselves and move up to the superior class. It’s difficult, but it’s certainly possible. You’re well on your way, ensign. You spent years obediently following the orders of your superiors, and if you continue to do so you may find yourself amongst us. It will be difficult for you, being more naturally suited to labour than leading, but before the high command promotes you, I’ll make a proper officer out of you. In a few years, you could be where I am.”

In actuality, Riggs would probably be a lieutenant in a matter of months. He had performed well as an enlisted soldier, and excelled academically at the military college. All he needed was Malum’s letter of recommendation and he’d be given his own platoon. Both ponies knew this, but Riggs knew better than to bring it up.

Malum’s office was a small one room wooden hut built next to the second platoon’s barracks. He was proud to say that he oversaw its construction himself. Using his unicorn magic to open the door, the lieutenant bid his ensign farewell.

“Get the soldiers up at 0400 tomorrow,” he said, “Run them through some pre-dawn drill to make up for this afternoon of slacking off.”

“Yes, sir,” replied the ensign with a salute, before heading to the barracks.

***

The bulk of the barracks was taken up by a long room. Fifty beds with fifty footlockers were arranged in two neat rows down the guts of the building. Two of these were unoccupied, and the rest had an enlisted pony either sprawled exhaustedly on it, or going about the business of removing their uniforms and putting away their gear. They were roughly arranged by squad. This was the result of the soldiers’ desire to be with their closer friends rather than some regulation. The barracks was buzzing with the sound of conversation.

Near the entrance there were two separate rooms. Each was the same size, and had enough space for a desk, foot locker, and bed. Normally, one of these rooms would belong to the platoon’s chief sergeant while the other would belong to its lieutenant. One of the reasons platoon two of Checkpoint Charlie was chosen for Riggs’s field training was because one of these rooms was vacant, as Malum had his own hut. It seemed fitting for an ensign to get used to an officer’s quarters.

Squad four made their home at the far end of the barracks. The ponies that made up fire team Alpha were at the very end on the left side. Corporal Whisk’s bed was between the two previously unoccupied beds. He had moved there as soon as the two privates previously in his fire team were discharged. He liked his space. The bed one space closer to the entrance was subsequently taken by Sweetie Belle, while the other was taken by Apple Bloom. On the far side of the unicorn was private storm. Across from them was sergeant Avalon and her fire team, and a bit further down was the other fire team in the squad. Sitting in a corner surrounded by the ponies she’d met, Apple Bloom felt like the rest of the platoon was totally alien to her.

“You know,” grumbled Corporal Whisk, “in most companies, higher ranks get better sleeping arrangements.”

“Yes,” admitted Avalon, “but in a lot of infantry companies, a better sleeping arrangement means a slightly larger bivouac shelter in a malaria-ridden swamp, or a slightly thicker sleeping bag on the tundra. At least we’ve got a proper barracks and a decent environment here.”

“I suppose. Wish I was back at regimental HQ in Canterlot. I had a chevron on my arm and my own room. Even bigger than our lieutenant’s!”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have sold vinegar in vodka bottles to the officers’ children.”

Whiskey considered this for a moment, scratching his head with his hoof. “No,” he concluded, “that was hilarious. It’s amazing the way a kid’ll act drunk if he thinks he’s drunk even though he’s not drunk. Made a good few bits off of it, too. Besides, all they did to me for that was bump me down to corporal and send me to battalion HQ, and I still had my own room there.”

“Well if you wanted to stay there, you shouldn’t have slept with the Colonel’s daughter.”

He didn’t need to think about his response this time, “No, that was totally worth it. Still have her number, too. Maybe I should pay old what’s-her-name a visit next time I have some rec leave...”

“Back up,” said Sweetie Belle to the corporal, “Who in their right mind made YOU a junior sergeant?”

“Oh, no pony in their right mind. I went straight from private to junior sergeant. See, I was a real pain in the ass to my sarge, and he really wanted to get rid of me. Thing is, no other squad wanted me. Eventually, he called in a favour to get me the hay out of his squad. There were a lot of NCOs with favours to call in after I was forced into the military, what with the whole Nightmare thing having occurred not long before. Anyway, next morning, they woke me up, gave me a chevron, a nice paycheque and me own room in Canterlot. Well, I wasn’t going to complain, was I?”

“Don’t let the corporal give you any ideas,” Avalon smiled, “I don’t have any favours to call in.”

Apple Bloom raised a hoof and said, “Well, hay, good to know our fire team leader really earned his rank, huh? Certainly the sort-a pony you want by yer side when it gets hairy. You’re a truly-”

“ATTENTION!” cried the chief sergeant, prompting every pony in the barracks to shut up, stand to and salute the ensign who had just entered.

Riggs jumped in surprise when every pony saluted him. He still hadn’t gotten used to making entire rooms of ponies stand to attention. “At ease,” he ordered. Every pony went back to relaxing. He glanced at Whistle. She was leaning against the door to her room. She shot her eyes at him, and didn’t need to say a word to make him stop in his tracks. No pony defied an order from the chief, even an implied one. The ensign gulped before saying “Howdy there, chief. What can I do you for?”

She held her door open and silently beckoned the officer inside with a slight nod. Riggs complied, and she shut the door behind them. He heard a key click, and felt a speck of sweat on his brow. He was beginning to understand why every pony found the chief so intimidating.

“It’s probably best if the other enlisted ponies don’t hear my little insubordination,” she explained hastily. Pausing for a moment, she looked down at the ground, as if struggling to put her thoughts into words. Eventually, she looked the ensign dead in the eye and inquired, “How did our beloved CO take to the idea of an afternoon off?”

“Four o’clock drill,” the ensign stated plainly.

“So not well, then?”

“FOUR. O’CLOCK. DRILL,” He repeated with exaggerated emphasis.

“Gotta keep the rabble occupied, huh?”

“I’ve got to hand it to you; you sure have your commanding officer figured out.”

The stallion grinned at Whistle, and she allowed her own mouth to curl into a smile. As the platoon’s chief, she saw it as her duty to assess the ensign that would be spending at least a few more months in their presence. He might be around for a lot longer too. If something happened to Malum, and there were a lot of ponies on the base who wanted something to happen to Malum, then Riggs might take his place. Whistle wanted to determine if that would be a desirable change. She studied his rough, smiling face for a moment. There would be plenty of time to analyse the stallion later. For the time being, she could simply accept that he had a sense of humour.

“It’s good to see the snobs haven’t made you one of their own,” she said.

“Give ‘em time.”

“Should’ve just stayed a non-com like me. I earn more than most of the commissioned officers in this camp, I’m more useful, and I didn’t have to go to college.”

“Well, I want to be a cavalry officer. Had a good’n when I was an enlisted pony. She really inspired me, ya know. She ran the platoon well, led us through some serious danger, got us through Nightmare, Discord, all that lot, and never left a pony behind. I’ve always seen chiefs as the officer’s assistant, or as experts in one particular area, like mechanics or what have you. I don’t wanna do that. I wanna be like that L.T. I had in the cav.”

“You want to be an officer to LEAD your ponies?” the chief scoffed, “Riggs, look at me. Who do you think REALLY runs this outfit? You’re right about chief sergeants, we’re all specialists in some area or another. As an infantry chief, my specialty happens to be running this platoon. It’s a damn good thing I’m here, too. Malum is absolutely hopeless. It was different a few years ago. Officers used to be competent. These days, crappy commissioned officers are becoming the rule rather than the exception.”

“Well, I won’t be like Malum. I know what it’s like to be an enlisted pony. I’ll make a good officer, you’ll see.”

“Yea, I guess we will see,” the chief paused, and her lips briefly twitched into a cunning smile before she continued, “Ok, I’ll wake up the troops at four and take them through the drill.”

“Still testing me, Whistle? I’LL wake the troops up at four and I’LL take them through the drill. I can hardly sleep in while the rest of the platoon is up and working, can I?”

The chief smiled approvingly before opening the door, “I’ll see you at four, then,” she said with a respectful nod.

“See you at four,” the ensign replied as he exited the room with. As soon as the door closed behind him, he let out a relieved sigh. That mare seemed to radiate power. Still, she seemed like a decent pony, and he was glad to have her as his chief. If he had to get up at an ungodly hour to yell at a bunch of tired ponies, he was glad to do it with her. He thought it would be an unpleasantness that they’d endure together. The rebels in the Everfree, however, had their own designs upon the platoon.

Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The ponies of Checkpoint Charlie were awoken by a deafening alarm, punctuated by gunshots. Those ponies on the night shift had seen the rebel scout and sounded the alarm, fearing it may be the precursor to a full on assault. As the fifty odd soldiers of two platoon scrambled out of their beds, hastily flinging on uniforms and bandoliers while checking their weapons, their chief sergeant burst out of her room.

She looked completely ready, composed and in control. She roared the standard procedure which they had practiced dozens of times before in a commanding voice, “double file and fall out after me, soldiers. We’re going to the northern half of the western palisade. Stay in file so you don’t lose your squad. Let’s go, double time!”

By the time she had finished talking, all the ponies had sorted themselves out. Rifles slung over shoulders, they trotted out of the barracks in two perfect lines behind the chief. The ensign, armed only with a service revolver, brought up the rear.

The initial gunfire had stopped, and the ponies assigned to the night watch were frantically scouring the ground surrounding the camp with searchlights. The gates had already been bared and grates had been lowered over the river where it entered and exited the camp. Evidently, they had worked quickly knowing that their lives could be at stake.

Platoon two arrived at their destination. Their arrival was shortly followed by the chaotic sound of hushed orders, hoof falls and weapons being loaded further to the south, informing them that platoon one was at their post. Now that she had a closer look at the palisade, Apple Bloom could see that there was a ledge running along the inside. Whistle was presently ordering some of the squads to take up positions here so that they could take pot shots over the wall. The chief issued an order to Avalon, who in turn issued the order to her corporals.

“Alpha,” the sergeant hissed, “get down in the dirt on the machinegun. Whisk... Whisk, why are you wearing shades at night?”

“They won’t be a problem in the dark, sarge,” he assured her. He had won a bet to a unicorn who claimed she could render his glasses useless. Although the shades no longer protected against light, he they still hid his eyes, which he maintained was their main function. He had won because he hit the unicorn over the head and ran away when she protested.

“Ah, whatever. You’re team leader, get your ponies in pit two.”

“Yes sarge.”

With this acknowledgement, Avalon nodded and started issuing orders to her other corporal while Whisk turned to the three ponies in his team. “Alright, Belle, you’re a unicorn, so you just keep your head down and feed me ammo. Bloom, you’re my RHM for tonight. All you need to do is cover me while I’m reloading and yell out to Storm if I get hit. Storm, you’re topside. If I go down, jump down here and get on the gun. C’mon you two, into the pit with me.”

Looking down, Apple Bloom saw that there was, indeed, a few small ditches hugging the palisade. They were tiny and barely visible in the darkness. Crawling into the closest pit on her belly, she instantly decided that she disliked it. The ditch went right up to the palisade where a hole was cut into the wood, barely large enough to give the gun a deadly arc. With the boxes of ammunition, mounted machinegun and three ponies, it was incredibly crowded. Shortly above them was the firing ledge, so low that it forced the three ponies to lie down in the dirt. They could hear Storm inspecting his weapon immediately above them. The pit was barely visible from within the walls, and must’ve been indiscernible from the rest of the palisade from the outside. It would be a death trap for the enemy, to be sure, but it was also impossibly uncomfortable for the gun crew.

After the initial confusion died down, an eerie silence crept in. There was no yelling of orders, no pounding of running hooves, no gunfire, no explosions. No sounds of battle. In the still night, all the ponies were on their guard and growing tense. The slightest rustle of leaves would prompt them to check their aim and squint into the pitch blackness. It was impossible to see anything, save for the roving areas of illumination cast by the searchlights.

They were supposed to be sitting quietly, preparing to ambush any attackers. Stealth was the key. If they lay in silence, their enemy may well waltz straight into the machinegun’s range. Despite this, no pony was willing to allow complete silence after the first hour or so. Boredom sunk in, and it was difficult for them to stay alert. Every pony was tired from labouring away at the forest, not to mention being rudely awoken at midnight. Before the second hour passed, murmurs could be heard up and down the line.

“Can you see anything?” Whiskey asked of Apple Bloom in a quiet hiss.

“No,” she replied in an equally low whisper, “I can’t hardly see mah hoof in front a’ mah face. Rebels could be all along the palisade for all I know!”

“Don’t worry about it. ‘Twas probably just a scouting party sent to investigate the aftermath of the fire.”

“Then why are we all along the wall?” demanded Sweetie Belle, ‘I’m not dying in this hole, Whiskey!”

“No pony’s going to die in this hole. You least of all. You don’t even have to stick your head into the line of fire like I do. If the shit hits the fan, just keep the gun fed and we’ll all be fine.”

The waiting was starting to have an impact on the unicorn. Her eyes darted around frantically and her breathing became heavy. “I’m too young for this!” she said, raising her voice, “I’m just a kid. There’s so much I haven’t done. Hay, I’m a virgin for Celestia’s sake!”

Whiskey chuckled to himself for a moment before looking at the mare incredulously. “I’ve heard ponies say some weird things under pressure, but I think that’s the first time I’ve heard some pony blurt out how sexually active they are.” He paused for a moment and the smile briefly faded from his face. They really were just kids. He suddenly felt like he was running a kindergarten. Silence ensued once again, while the corporal skewed his face in thought. Eventually, he seemed to reach some sort of mental conclusion. Seeing that the two mares were staring at him concernedly, he smiled and continued, “don’t worry, you two. I’m sure the fine stallion soldiers in this camp will make sure you don’t die virgins.”

It took a moment for the pair to comprehend what he said, at which point they both let out a disapproving scoff. Whisk grinned to himself. “Oh, it’s always so fun to corrupt the youth,” he concluded. The pair exchanged a glance, and decided to stop talking to the corporal.

Their silent treatment didn’t last long. They were completely new to this sort of thing, and needed a comforting NCO more than any pony. It wasn’t long before Apple Bloom chuckled to herself and glanced at Whiskey, challenging him to ask her what she was laughing at.

“What?” he asked .

“I jus’ realised,” she whispered in response, “why the rebels wanna kill me. It’s ‘cause I’m poor.”

“How d’you figure?”

“Think about it. They wanna kill me ta’ put forward whatever their agenda is. Well, I don’t even know what their agenda is, so I don’t have any particular, ah, what’s the word? Compulsion, that’s it. I don’t have any particular compulsion to go against it. Only reason I am goin’ ‘gainst it is ‘cause I’m in the military. Only reason I’m in the military is ‘cause I’m poor. They wanna kill me ‘cause I’m stoppin’ their agenda ‘cause I’m in the military ‘cause I’m poor. They want to kill me ‘cause I’m poor.”

“So,” said Sweetie Belle, “that means they want to kill ME because you’re poor, since I joined because you joined because you’re poor.”

The corporal chuckled at his confused soldiers. “Oh come now, you’re thinking about this the wrong way,” he smiled, “I told you, I haven’t seen any combat with the military. I have seen gangland warfare in Manehattan though, and I figure it’s much the same.” He paused here to glance from one private to the other. He was pleased to have a captive audience.

“No pony wants to kill any pony,” he proceeded in a very slow, measured tone that he was trying to adopt from the chief sergeant, “It’s a biological fact. Killing makes you feel bad, unless you’re some kind of psycho, and that ain’t as common as you’d think out here. Soldiers, and by that I mean rebel soldiers, too, kill because they’re told to. You think I’d be on this wall if I had a choice? You think any of us would be? Most of the ponies here don’t even know what the rebels actually want, for Pete’s sake. Hay, most of the rebels probably don’t know what they’re rebelling over. You’ve met a few soldiers by now. How many of them enlisted to fight for what they believe in? There’s probably less than half of the platoon joined for that, and at least half of the ones who joined to fight the good fight stop believing the fight is good before they finish their first three year stint. It’s probably more or less the same for the rebels. None of us want to kill and none of us want to die. Way I see it, Celestia and her lot have built the perfect system to make the poor do her dirty work.”

“Damn, Whiskey,” exclaimed Sweetie Belle, “sounds like you should be on the other side of the wall!”

“Ah, they’re even worse. Sorry to talk you’re ear off like this, I guess tonight I’m a bit-” the corporal stopped mid sentence, suddenly rendered mute. The searchlights were shut off, along with the gentle murmuring along the palisade. “nervous,” Whiskey finished after a moment.

Apple Bloom was confused. Had they called the alert off? Could they all go back to bed now? Just as she opened her mouth to ask the NCO, a hissing rang out. Immediately thereafter, a brilliant light shot out from the camp, followed by several more.

“Flares,” observed Corporal Whisk before peering outside intently. There appeared to be no pony there. Even with the light, all he could see was a short stretch of scorched earth before the thick blackness of the forest. The flares burnt out before any pony had a chance for a better look.

Once the night was absorbed in complete darkness again, another round of flares went up. They seemed to last longer than the other time, allowing the ponies to more closely search for rebels. Whiskey was convinced that the rebels had all gone home to their crappy little camp, but then he saw a contour in the land that just looked unnatural. He decided that it was better to be safe than sorry, and he cautiously turned the barrel of the gun to face the area. After aiming down the sights for a moment, he let out a few rounds right before the flares faded. As the night was immersed in darkness, a shrill scream of pain could be heard from outside the base, exactly where the corporal’s rounds landed.

“Target! Ten metres, two o’clock low!” Whisk screamed, prompting another frantically chaotic mess of sounds in the dead, dark night.

Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Chief Sergeant Whistle admired the thin line of orange in the east before addressing her troops. “Good work, every pony,” she said, “Stand down.” A wave of relief washed over the soldiers as they unloaded and slung their weapons. Their chief slowly made her way to Whisk’s gun pit.

With no action to distract them, the trio in the pit finally allowed themselves to take in horrific site. Whisk’s face was pale as he regarded the dead pony lying on top of him. He slowly pushed the corpse away. The dead mare’s limbs flailed around limply as she flopped to the side. The three ponies let out a collective moan. The soldier was now on her back, and they could see her face. Even bloodied and mutilated, the look of shock and fear was readily apparent. She was a young mare, and none of the three ponies knew her very well. Glancing at her arm bands, they saw that she was “EXPEDITIOANRY PRIVATE MINT”. The chief sergeant arrived at the pit and frowned down at the three live ponies.

“Get her the hay out of there!” she demanded with a furious glare.

Breathing heavily, Whisk scrambled out of the pit. Eyes wide in disgust, he wrapped his forelegs beneath the fallen soldier’s. He dug his hind legs into the ground. With a grunt, he heaved the corpse out of the hole, for the whole platoon to see. A shocked, uneasy silence gripped the ponies as they crowded around, gawking at the dead pony. Every pony in the platoon was trying to get a look at the dead body.

Whistle twisted her face in anger and turned to them, bellowing “Show some respect! Riggs, take every pony back to the barracks except for squad three. Sergeant Cake, I’ll say stick around with your squad, if that’s ok.”

A nearby stallion with three chevrons on his leg bobbed his head weakly in agreement, wide eyes fixed on the body. He couldn’t believe that he’d lost a pony. There were sixteen squads on the base. Why did it have to be one of his that died? He did his best to ignore all the comforting pats on the back and respectful nods the ponies gave him as they walked past. When the only ponies within earshot were the other surviving members of his squad and the chief, he allowed himself to crumble into tears.

***

Whisk, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom met up with Avalon and Storm on their way back to the barracks. They were in no formation. The base was full of exhausted ponies slowly heading back to their barracks and officers who were too tired to order them into any particular structure. A low murmur could be heard throughout the checkpoint. News of the battle was quickly spreading. Every pony was shocked to learn that they had lost a soldier in the assault.

“I can’t believe they got one of ours,” said Private Storm, more to himself than any pony else.

“Well, they got theirs, didn’t they?” remarked Apple Bloom, “Our platoon alone must’ve got ‘least fifteen of theirs.”

The farm girl smiled from the corporal to the sergeant, seeking approval. They both glowered at her briefly before turning away.

“The rebels are getting more and more fanatical,” noted sergeant Avalon, disregarding the private’s statement, “if they get some training and discipline...” she trailed off and bit her lip.

“...then we’re in the shit,” concluded Whisk. He sighed and continued “and we’ve got an incompetent coward leading us through it. Any of you see the lieutenant on the palisade? I’m betting he didn’t even leave his office.”

“I don’t think I WANT that stallion calling the shots in a situation like that. Whistle may be a bit, I don’t know, strict I guess you’d say. But if we have to be in a fire fight, she’s the pony I want leading us.”

“Well, so as long as Malum stays a coward and keeps out, and Whistle keeps taking the reins from him, we should be fine!” chimed in Sweetie Belle, “Here’s hoping our commanding officer stays incompetent, then.”

The ponies shared a chuckle, and then fell to silence as they entered the barracks. They were all very tired. It was time to catch up on some sleep.

***

Before any pony in the platoon had so much as closed their eyes, the chief sergeant barged into the barracks, shadowed by the ensign. “No rest for the wicked, my little ponies!” she declared, “we’ve still got a cleanup to do. Squad four, you have the least experienced soldiers so you’ll be doing the cleaning outside the base. I don’t trust the rookies to keep our gear in check. Squads one and two, you’re on maintenance. Break down the machineguns, clean them up and make sure they’ve all got plenty of ammo to chew up next time. Squads, double file, on me!”

With suppressed grumbling, the squads lined up and followed Whistle out once again. About twenty of them broke off at the palisade, while the rest continued out into the scorched earth.

Apple Bloom felt physically sick when she passed the threshold to the outside. The ground was littered with shells, spent cartridges and clips. She had expected the corpses to be lying peacefully with a few small bullet wounds in their bodies. Her expectation was dashed when she saw one of the ponies she’d killed herself.

She could see the trail the stallion had left. He had left heavy hoof prints in the dirt, leading up to the area where he had been hit. Blood stained the ground here, and much of the earth had been kicked up as he suddenly stopped. After this, there was about a metre of ground which had been dug up from his cart wheeling, and then finally his body.

The stallion’s body was twisted and broken. His torso and legs were contorted in an unnatural position by his tumble. His eyes were rolled back into his head and his mouth was frozen in a horrible expression of shock and pain. A hoof was clutched in a death grip to his stomach where he had been desperately trying to hold in the unrecognisable organs spilling from his stomach that had been ripped open by the rounds Apple Bloom emptied into him after he fell. Regardless, his innards had leaked out onto the field.

The private stared at the corpse with wide eyes and a quivering lip for a while. She had done this. She had taken a living, breathing stallion, just like her brother, and turned him into the disgusting thing that now lay in the dirt.

Avalon and Whiskey exchanged a glance. She really was just a kid. “Bloom, Belle, go with fire team bravo into the forest. We’ll clean up out here,” the sergeant ordered.

Finally looking away from the destroyed creature, Apple Bloom took in the rest of the area. There were about ten other bodies, equally as disturbing as this one. She momentarily forgot why she’d wish such a fate on any pony. Looking around, she briefly allowed her gaze to fall upon the two non-commissioned officers. They looked back at her sympathetically. She nodded at them and, without a word, obeyed the order.

***

The forest itself seemed defiled and broken, but at least there were far fewer bodies, making it less disturbing. The two teenage mares looked back at their sergeant to see what, exactly, they were meant to be doing. They saw her wrapping a dead rebel’s hooves around her neck and dragging the body to a location about halfway between the forest and the palisade. The pair exchanged a glance.

“I guess that’s what we need to do, huh?” noted Sweetie Belle.

“Ah guess.”

As Apple Bloom crouched down beside a body to begin the gruesome task, she heard some pony behind her calling “Don’t do that, private! We’ll handle that.” It was Chief Sergeant Hoof, who had previously been busy issuing orders to her sergeants.

“Well, what can I do?” asked Apple Bloom helplessly.

The chief looked around, trying to find something to keep the kids busy. She couldn’t in good conscience, make a pair of sixteen year olds perform such a gruesome task! Somehow, cleaning up after murder seemed less pleasant than the murder itself. The Chief waved her hoof at what she took to be a machinegun the rebels had abandoned.

“See that gun?” she said, “You two should go salvage it. If it’s in good shape, take the gun. If not, just take the ammo. Clear?”

“Clear, chief sergeant,” the duo replied as they did as they headed to their target.

Neither of the teens were in a talkative mood. They could barely look at each other, and they kept looking straight ahead with resolve, trying to ignore the scene around them. Their hope of ignoring the aftermath of the battle was crushed as they heard a low whimpering near the machinegun.

Exchanging a brief glance, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle hastily un-slung their rifles. The unicorn held hers aloft with her magic, while the earth pony slung it on her right front leg and was forced to hobble on three limbs towards the sobbing. They moved a few metres away from each other. This was a habit encouraged in basic training, so that a single soldier might be hit rather than a whole group. It was for this reason that Apple Bloom found the source of the noise before Sweetie Belle.

She gasped heavily and aimed her gun directly at the pony’s head. “Sweetie Belle, Sergeant, Chief, Whiskey- oh, hay, any pony!” she screamed, “We’ve got a live one here!” she stared into the rebel’s eyes for a few moments and mumbled to herself, “oh, Celestia, what do I do?”

Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Apple Bloom stared at the rebel in silence for a time. He was an impossibly small colt, who looked like he was malnourished. Lying perfectly still, shrunk as low to the ground as possible, he seemed absolutely insignificant. His coat was a powder blue, and his unkempt mane was dark brown. His deep blue eyes were filled with terror. He wore white leg bands with a red cross on them, meaning he could be either a medic or masquerading as a medic to pull some elaborate trap.

Sweetie Belle was quick to arrive behind her friend, but still didn’t say a word. The three of them remained in stunned silence, exchanging glances. No pony knew what to do from here. They were massively relieved when Whiskey, Avalon, Riggs and Whistle all arrived at the same time. Avalon was the first to talk.

“Hey little guy,” she said, “what’s your name?”

“Corpsman Blue,” he croaked in a quiet, fearful voice.

Avalon crouched down, lowering herself to his level, and smiled at him warmly. “I’m Sergeant Avalon,” she said, “and I can tell you, this will be a lot easier if you tell us if there are any other rebels still around our base.”

“No- not that I know of. All my friends, I mean all the rebels, fell back. They tried to take me with them, but...” he trailed off and started crying.

“No pony here is going to hurt you, Blue. We’re not like that. What they tell you about us- it’s a lie. We’re regular ponies, just like your friends. How old are you, Blue?”

“I’m fifteen.”

“By Spitfire’s perfect flank!” declared Whiskey, “are the rebels running a bloody kindergarten?”

Every pony in presence glanced at the corporal disapprovingly for a moment, before looking back to the medic.

“Are you injured?” inquired Avalon.

“Just a sprained ankle. I could’ve gotten out of here. But I just... couldn’t. I mean, just look out there!”

“That’s perfectly understandable. You’re just a kid. Look, don’t worry too much. You’re safe now. I’m not going to lie to you, we’ll probably have to ship you off to prison for a while. Maybe until we put down this insurgency. Can’t risk you running back and joining the rebels, you understand. None of us will harm you, though.”

“Stop fraternising with the enemy, sergeant,” a cold voice said. Lieutenant Malum sauntered out of the forest and smirked at the scene before him. He was holding a service revolver aloft with his unicorn magic, and he holstered it when he saw his allies. When none of them saluted, he screamed “ATTEN-TION!” which prompted all but the chief, medic and Apple Bloom, who still had her gun trained on the medic, to raise a hoof in salute. “At ease,” he said, satisfied.

“Well, you’re up early, Malum,” the chief jeered, “I suppose you wouldn’t want to miss anything important.”

Malum merely scowled at Whistle. “I leave the soldiering to the soldiers,” he said calmly, “my job is to manage the platoon. Offices for officers. See how that works?” He paused briefly to examine the other ponies. Satisfied none of them would challenge him, he continued, “I’m afraid to inform you that we do not have the facilities to process a prisoner of war at this checkpoint. As we are now at a state of high alert against this rebel faction, probably soon to be a state of total war, we cannot make an exception. I’m ordering the summary execution of this terrorist.”

Every pony gaped at the officer. The medic began to whimper, and tried to plead for his life. He couldn’t manage anything more than a soft, indecipherable blubber. Avalon placed a hoof over him protectively and scowled at the lieutenant. All the enlisted soldiers, plus Riggs, looked instinctively to the chief. She would solve this mess, for sure.

Whistle stared at the ensign for a moment. “Now’s your chance,” she thought, “now’s your chance to show that you’re different. Challenge him. Show that you’ve got guts. Show that you’re better than him.” Riggs did no such thing. The chief sergeant sighed and shook her head in disappointment.

“Sir,” she said in a respectful and calm, yet commanding voice, “You can’t authorise a summary execution, that’s illegal. It goes against the Manehattan Convention-”

“My family wrote the Manehattan convention, soldier,” Malum interrupted, “and I happen to have a copy with me. This is a perfectly legal scenario for an execution. Terrorists like this aren’t recognised as soldiers. It’s our only option.”

“We could easily facilitate this POW. I’m sure one of my sergeants would gladly volunteer their fire team to-”

“They’re not your fire teams to play with!” the lieutenant screamed suddenly, “They’re mine! They belong to me! You’re MY second in command. These are MY soldiers. That’s MY prisoner, and I’ll do with him as I please! If you try to stop me, I’ll have you done for insubordination.”

Whistle rolled her eyes and scoffed. She looked directly in the officer’s eyes and replied, in a very calm, clear voice, “Oh, that’s worked so well for you in the past. You might have a commission and rank, but you don’t have respect. I’ve been soldiering for almost twenty years. You think a court marshal will prosecute me because some rich college kid tells them to? I served with the regimental warrant officer back in Nightmare, making me his close personal friend. That’s as good as being the general’s buddy. You have no power over me. It might be different in the outside world, but in the military you need to earn respect. You need to earn power. That’s why you’ll never make it past senior lieutenant in your whole career.”

Malum’s eyes bulged with rage. He was rendered totally speechless and was breathing very heavily. In the respite, the other ponies kept looking from the chief to the commissioned officer. It was his move, and he wasn’t the sort to back down from those who he viewed as inferiors.

A smile crept across his face. He was about to make his retort. The forest itself seemed to be holding its breath for the angered officer. When he finally spoke, it was with an upmost calmness that chilled to the bone. His voice was incredibly quiet, but remarkably crisp and understandable. “Maybe I can’t get to you,” he said to the chief. After a brief pause, he rolled his head to the other non-commissioned ponies and grinned maniacally, “but I can sure as hay get to them.” He glanced back at the chief with a sickening smirk before looking Apple Bloom directly in the eye. “Private, kill that revolting, ignorant, despicable, impoverished earth pony dissident. If you don’t, I’ll have YOU court marshalled. I don’t think the regimental warrant officer will be pulling any strings for a new recruit, do you?”

Apple Bloom was stunned. Her mouth hung open and she gaped stupidly at Whistle, looking for support. She was emotionally crushed when all her superior NCO could offer in response was a blank stare. She turned to Riggs, who was grinding a hoof on the ground, pretending to be somewhere else. He wouldn’t offer any support either. She panned her gaze past Whiskey. If he was even capable of expressing emotion, it was hidden behind his aviators. Her eyes finally fell on one of her oldest friends, Sweetie Belle, who looked like she was on the verge of tears. It was useless. No pony would help her. It was time to grow up and take responsibility by herself.

With no comfort to be had from her comrades, Apple Bloom resigned herself to commit the heinous deed. Even so, she was determined to show the poor colt the respect he deserved. She looked directly into his big, blue, pleading eyes. “I’m sorry,” she blubbered. In response, the colt collapsed even further into an emotional wreck. Holding back a sob, the farm girl checked her aim one more time. All it would take was a little flick of her hoof. A light squeeze to operate the modified trigger mechanism was all it would take to send a piece of lead screaming out of her weapon, spraying the medic’s brain across the forest floor. She squinted in concentration and prepared for the moment.

A single shot rang out through the forest. The medic seemed to stare at Apple Bloom for a moment, eyes still bright and pleading. For a split second she thought that, through some divine miracle, the colt was still alive. This idea was quickly driven out of her head as the boy fell to the ground limply. His head flopped to one side, revealing the damage the bullet had done. Apple Bloom gasped heavily, before realising that she never pulled the trigger.

“Why did you take the shot, corporal?” demanded Malum.

“I wanted this to be MY kill sir,” Whisk replied with a thin smile, “like you said, that colt was scum. The private here, bless her innocent little heart, was taking too long for my liking.”

“Fair enough,” Malum smiled at the corporal. He stopped the private from taking the shot, sure, but he had done it for good reasons. He couldn’t be mad at a pony after his own heart. Besides, he hadn’t technically disobeyed any orders. “Main thing is that he’s dead, I guess. Don’t act without orders again.”

“Yes sir. Sorry sir.”

“Glad you understand. I have work to do back at the office. I think I can trust you soldiers to deal with this.” With that, he departed.

Avalon stared wide-eyed at the dead medic, before contorting her face into a look of rage and glowering at Whiskey. “You- you give this boy a proper grave,” she hissed, “We’re not burning him like trash. That’s an order, corporal.” For a moment, she looked like she would hit the stallion. She decided better of it and stormed off.

“Riggs,” said the chief sergeant in an ice cold tone, “I think we need to have a little talk. In private.”

The ensign merely swallowed and nodded, before following Whistle back to the barracks.

The two new recruits stared at the corporal intently. Sweetie Belle concluded that he was a monster. “What is wrong with you?” she demanded. The corporal didn’t look up from the body, and didn’t give an answer. The unicorn swore at him before leaving him, unable to stand his company.

Apple Bloom wasn’t so sure about Whiskey. She tried to read him, but his face was blank. There must be something deeper behind those shades. Some semblance of empathy. The young mare studied him intently, but couldn’t find any hint of remorse. She was somewhat disappointed to think that he was just a genuinely bad pony. She turned to leave without a word. Before she had moved out of ear shot, the corporal let out a heavy sob.

With an annoyed sigh, he admitted, “I was hoping I could hold that in until you left.” He removed his aviators to reveal his bloodshot, emerald green eyes.

“why’d yah do it?” the young mare demanded.

“Look, I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m a bad pony. I’ve done terrible things. All I’ve ever done is inflict suffering on other ponies. You and that bonehead friend of yours, you’re not like that yet. You’re still young. I have to admit, I thought you must be some kind of sadist when I saw how happy you were to take down those poor bastards last night. But when we came out here, I saw the truth. You didn’t really understand what you were doing. I saw something in you, something that I haven’t had in a long time. Pure, youthful, ignorant innocence. It’s a beautiful thing, and something that doesn’t last long in this world. Well, not in my world anyway. I figure, if there’s just one good thing I can do in my life, then... I don’t know. Point is, it’s worth protecting. I wasn’t about to let you lose it on account of some mad officer. You run along now. I want to put this boy back to the earth meself.”

“Ah- alright then. Uh, thanks, Whiskey.” Apple Bloom turned to go then hesitated. She felt like she had something more to say, but nothing came to mind. The corporal and the medic both seemed to deserve more words, but there seemed to be no words to do either of them any justice. After a moment, she continued back into the barracks in silence.

Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 8

Chapter 8

An Equestrian flag flew at half mast over Checkpoint Charlie. The base was like a crowded ghost town. Soldiers floated about slowly as they completed their duties in silence. No pony really had the energy to exchange war stories. It was too soon. The initial shock of losing a soldier was wearing off, and the grim reality of the situation was settling in. Rebels had finally crossed the line in the sand. Some important and powerful ponies, sitting safely in the Everfree, had decided it was time to strike. It was only a matter of time before some important and powerful ponies, sitting safely in Canterlot, decided it was time to retaliate. For whatever reason, these two groups were determined to clash.

If the soldiers were to have any chance of surviving the clash, they needed to be ready. Guns needed cleaning, holes needed repairing, wounds needed tending and reports needed writing. A PBR arrived to take the dead soldier’s body to her home town for burial. A brief parade was held to see her off, and every pony paid their respects to their fallen comrade. The Major gave a big speech, commending the soldiers for their bravery and sacrifice. The rebels’ bodies were piled up and burned, except for the medic who had a grave hidden in the forest.

Once all the weapons were immaculate, all the repairs made and all the requests for supplies sent, the base heaved a sigh of relief. Orders to stand down were finally issued to Malum’s platoon. Much to the lieutenant’s disgust, the enlisted ponies were allowed into the officers’ club. It was the only place on the checkpoint that served alcohol, and the Major felt her soldiers deserved a stiff drink. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, being underage, called it an early night.

Apple Bloom was awoken at midnight by a hoof in her mouth and a sinister looking Chief Sergeant Whistle standing over her. Twitching her eyes to the bed next to her, she saw that Sweetie Belle was missing. She started to panic. The chief dragged her out of bed and forced her to stand up, hoof still in her mouth. With more force than necessary, Whistle escorted the private out of the barracks.

As her superior NCO pushed her through the checkpoint, Apple Bloom began to think of what she might have done to offend her. Maybe she didn’t like the way she’d handled the medic incident. Apple Bloom already blamed herself for his death to some degree. Maybe the other soldiers also blamed her. That was probably it. She was probably supposed to stand up to the officer. She had let her platoon down, and the chief was leading her off to some cruel punishment.

The pair eventually came across a circle of ponies. They all looked very serious and very angry. Among them were Sergeant Avalon, Sweetie Belle and three other NCOs that Apple Bloom didn’t recognise. As they approached, the chief sergeant loosened her hold and let her go. “Sit down,” she demanded. The private complied obediently.

“Bloom, you must know why we’re here,” said the chief in little more than a whisper, “you’re little more than a filly, but you’re not stupid. A war’s coming. Only way we’ll survive is if the platoon stays solid. If we have any more little events like what happened out in the forest today, we have no chance.”

Apple Bloom felt her lip quivering as she shrank beneath the chief sergeant. Swallowing hard to quench her dry throat, she managed to blubber “I’m sorry,” before being struck by silence.

The ponies around her glanced at one another in confusion, before looking to their chief for guidance. Whistle frowned as she studied the fearful private. Her lips twitched into a smile as she realised what was happening.

“I don’t think you know why we’re here after all,” she said with a little chuckle, “you’re not in trouble. You did fine, private. We’re not here because of you. No. See, I don’t much like the idea of that stallion being in command in a life or death situation. I took it upon myself to form this little conspiracy.”

It took her a moment, but Apple Bloom finally came to see what the chief sergeant was getting at. Blushing with embarrassment, she sat upright and smiled weakly. “Well,” she said, “how’re we going to deal with that crazy commanding officer of ours?”

3: Into the Dark Green: Chapter 1

Part Three: Into the Dark Green

Chapter 1

Fire was in the rebel captain’s eyes as she eagerly listened to her lieutenants’ reports. There had been some hiccups and far more casualties than she had hoped for, but the plan had worked. No ground had been won and they had gained no purely tactical advantage. Nevertheless, what they had won could turn the tide of any war. They had photographic proof that the expeditionary force had fired first.

“Thank you, Sapphire. That’ll be all,” she said once the lieutenant had recounted the attack on Checkpoint Charlie in full detail.

The captain was a pegasus mare with a violet coat and pinkish mane. Although she had a uniform, she preferred not to wear it. It alienated her from her soldiers, and she felt that forcing the rebels to recognise her as an authority figure would defeat the purpose of the rebellion. All she wore was a black beret on her head, a bandolier around her chest and a short assault rifle strapped to each foreleg.

Her name was Wind Rider, a captain in the coalition that had come to call itself the Republican Alliance of Equestria, and commander of the rebel group known as the Everfree Fighters. Formerly, she had been the commander in chief of the faction which was independent, but she had jumped on the chance to throw in with a large group of like-minded ponies.

Wind Rider was from Los Pegasus originally, but once she graduated flight school she moved to Canterlot to study at the prestigious Equestrian National University. Although she excelled academically, her views were seen by most as either too extreme or incompatible with their own ideology. The monarchists thought she supported democracy too much, the democrats thought she was too right-wing, the rightists thought she was too socially liberal, and social liberals thought she was too anti-government, the anarchists thought she supported the monarchy too much. She had few enemies, and even fewer friends. In the final year of her degree, she attracted the interest of some secretive ponies who took a liking to her.

She completed her degree in 2002, and a week afterwards she simply disappeared. Two weeks after graduating, she showed up in Dodge City stirring up anti-government sentiment with a few of her formerly secretive friends. Military intelligence lost her trail somewhere in the Hayseed Swamp. A month later, she marched thirty ponies through a town near Baltimare. When the royal guard showed up the thirty ponies were gone, along with another forty who had joined up with them. She pulled this sort of stunt all over Equestria, never resorting to violence. She would pop up in a town, recruit any interested pony, and then melt into a nearby wilderness before the guards showed up. They lived as a self sufficient nomadic community, willing to give up their old lives for freedom and enlightenment. It was Wind Rider’s stated and genuine intention to use violence only in self defence. Three years after graduating, however, something changed.

Wind Rider saw the results of the military modernisation first hand in a colony of the San Palomino desert. She was lecturing a crowd on the inherent flaws of government, the evil of the aristocracy and ponies’ birthright to freedom. The colony was far from the nearest guard garrison, so she was confident that the lecture would be long and thorough. Her speech was interrupted by a group of three pegasi flying in formation overhead.

The pegasi were in drab gray spandex flight suits, similar in design to those of the Wonderbolts. Each carried something in their forelegs. They flew fast and low over the crowd, before banking around and flying back. It was at this point Wind Rider and the crowd got a good look at the ugly, black, metal objects they were carrying. None of the mares, stallions, colts and fillies who had gathered to see the fancy city pony talk had time to react. They stood stunned as the pegasi flew over once more, dropping their payload on the crowd.

When the horror was over, the surviving ponies were split between those who blamed Wind Rider for the incident, and those who begged to join her to seek their vengeance. It was that day that she invested in armaments and converted her group of free thinking pacifists into an active rebel cell. She vowed to fight the monarchy, totally unaware that the massacre had been ordered by rogue captain who sympathised with the aristocracy. Within a year, the Everfree Fighters had developed notoriety as a vicious, relentless and tenacious fighting force.

In 2006 they built their first permanent bases, hidden in the Everfree. Recruits now came to them, rather than the other way around. They offered asylum to any pony who felt they needed to escape persecution. In late 2007, they became part of the Republican Alliance of Equestria, giving them a massive surge in equipment and numbers. The Everfree Fighters went from a dangerous rag-tag group of rebels to an organised fighting force capable of achieving real change.

The attack on Checkpoint Charlie was the first direct order the Everfree Fighters received from their new commanders. The higher ups would want to know of the success as soon as possible. Wind Rider wrote a hasty report, placed it in an envelope with the photographs the lieutenant had given her, and put the envelope in a peculiar boxlike device by her desk. With the pull of a lever, a flash of green flame went up. In a matter of seconds, the package had arrived at the R.A.E. headquarters in the back room of a dank pub in Los Pegasus.

***

While the rebel lieutenant was delivering her report to the captain, some of the soldiers in Checkpoint Charlie were preparing their conspiracy against their own lieutenant.

“Well,” Apple Bloom said, “how’re we going to deal with that crazy commanding officer of ours?”

“Way I see it, him being away during the fight is cowardice. So, we tell the major, he gets a court marshal, we get a new CO,” suggested a private sitting next to Sweetie Belle in a thick southern drawl.

“It’s almost impossible for an enlisted pony to get a commissioned officer tried,” Avalon pointed out, “and he was less than 100 metres from the fight, so I don’t think the court would see it as cowardice anyway.”

“Can’t we get him transferred someplace else?” Apple Bloom asked.

Whistle replied this time, “He loves it here, for whatever reason. He’s from nobility. He’ll get his way. We’re not going to be able to get rid of him by following the book. We only really have one option, and let’s just say it’s less than conventional.”

She paused to see how her fellow conspirators reacted. They were silent. Reading their faces, she knew they understood what she was hinting at. None of them were exactly jumping at the idea. With such little enthusiasm, it seemed to be a bad idea to press the issue much further.

“Ok,” she continued finally, “maybe I need to let you all think on it. Get some sleep, soldiers.”

The chief sergeant remained seated, looking from pony to pony, challenging each of them with a hard glare. Every pony avoided eye contact, but none of them wanted to be the first to leave. After a while, Storm mumbled “Yes, chief,” and made his way back to the barracks. He was shortly followed by Avalon, who beckoned Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom to follow. The four ponies made their way back to the barracks in silence, but it was long before any of them managed to finally get some sleep.

***

Celestia never did like the newspapers. This sentiment was built upon massively when she read the headline “Expeditionary Force Barbarously Attack Fillies and Colts in Forest”, complete with a gory photograph of a terrified looking colt being gunned down outside Checkpoint Charlie. Reading the article, she found it was exactly what she expected: a heavily biased recount which took great liberties with the truth, no doubt sponsored by the rebels to get popular opinion on their side. It appeared to have been rushed to release. News of the incident probably didn’t reach the writers until a few hours before printing.

Both the princesses had been informed of the attack on Checkpoint Charlie almost immediately. They had hoped they could play it down to keep their citizens calm. Now they were being made out to look like the bad guys. There was no other choice. To counter this smear campaign, they would have to launch their own propaganda campaign prematurely. For full impact, this would have to coincide with the inevitable yet regrettable royal military campaign. Celestia brought forward some parchment, wrote a single word on it, stamped it, signed it, and performed all the other necessary measures to prove that the order was coming from the matriarch of the nation. Within five minutes of Celestia reading the article, orders were being issued to every branch of the military. The 6th of March on the 2008th year of the alicorns’ reign, less than 48 hours after the midnight attack on Checkpoint Charlie, would go down in history as the day the Everfree Forrest was declared a warzone.

Into the Dark Green: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Apple Bloom was getting sick of being rudely awoken. Once again it seemed the checkpoint was taken up in a frenzy of action. Orders were being shouted, marching songs were being chanted, heavy hoof falls could be heard and machinery somewhere was whirring. She was starting to wonder if she’d ever get a break. Slowly pulling herself from her cot, the first thing she saw was a very tired looking Corporal Whisk staring back at her.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “we don’t have to do anything apart from put up with the noise. You might want to take a look outside, though. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

The mare mumbled a “good morning” before making her way towards the door. The barracks was about half filled with tired, frustrated looking soldiers who were desperately trying to get to sleep despite the noise. Avalon and Sweetie Belle were absent. Apple Bloom wondered what part her friends were playing in the commotion outside. Exiting the barracks, she felt her jaw drop at the site before her.

A stream of soldiers was running down the main road of the checkpoint. They marched in tight squads of three files by four rows. Between them, each squad hauled a small wooden cart covered by a green tarpaulin. The ponies themselves were mostly earth ponies, with a few unicorns thrown in the mix. Their uniforms were lighter versions of those worn by the soldiers in the checkpoint. They gazed around at the checkpoint with great interest, but none of them were stopping. Squad after squad entered the checkpoint, crossed the river, and exited.

“What, you didn’t think we were the only ones who got hit the other night, did you?” Ensign Riggs, the massive stallion from the Badlands, said as he walked outside and saw the stunned pony, “One of the communications officers told me this morning: Equestria is getting ready to hit back. Hard. Half the military is being pushed south, and that ain’t and exaggeration. Entire 1st division is moving below the river, all the Marine bases north of Los Pegasus Delta on the west coast and the Horseshoe Bay on the east coast are being practically emptied, the Airborne and Air Force are scrambling, and the Defence Force is moving up to take all these empty positions. We saw the first company march through here at about 9 o’clock. Marine boats started pouring in not long after that. Hey, want to see what happens when you try to get an entire battalion marine waterborne at once? Come down to the dock, it’s chaos.”

Arriving at the quay, Apple Bloom thought she’d stumbled across some kind of natural disaster. The river was congested with barges and PBRs, while the dock was crowded with annoyed and confused marines trying to figure out what they were supposed to be doing. Supplies were being loaded and unloaded, soldiers were embarking and disembarking, and wounded were being transferred on and off the boats. Some medical officers, the quartermaster, the Major and several marine officers were engaged in a heated argument.

As they walked past, Apple Bloom heard the major yelling “I don’t care what the bloody Marine Force told you, this is my checkpoint and I want you to get your boats out of here! This isn’t the ruddy Horseshoe Bay. We need to keep the traffic flowing though here, and that means we need to keep YOU flowing though here!”

Aboard a barge that was slowly trying to leave the dock, Apple Bloom saw a familiar face. The Marine Chief Sergeant who had been injured on the PBR to the checkpoint was lying on a stretcher on the deck, looking dazed and confused. Apple Bloom waved and smiled. The chief didn’t notice her amongst the confusion. The young expeditionary private moved to say a proper farewell, but was stopped as Riggs placed a hoof over her shoulder.

“It’s bad news in the long run I guess,” he said, “but this is a beautiful sight to me. I made a bet with Whisk that we’d be in position before any other of the mobilised divisions, and with the marines this disorganised that cash is as good as-”

He was suddenly cut off by the deafening roar of hundreds of pegasi overhead. They were flying fast, and obnoxiously low. The elite pegasi took pride in the fact that they’d be the first ones ready to fight, and felt the need to remind all the earth ponies below of their superiority. The airborne didn’t deal in massive amphibious or naval machines like the Marines, or heavy small arms and artillery like the Expeditionary, or even in aerial fire support like the Air Force. They dealt in pure shock and speed, relying on the element of surprise and superior mobility to best their enemy. Within a minute, the sky was once again empty.

“Right... Airborne. I forgot about them. Always seem to confuse them with the Air Force. Pegasus is a pegasus, right? I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to make a bet with that damn corporal. That pony always holds the right cards. Anyway, it occurs to me you haven’t had a normal day yet at Checkpoint Charlie, so you don’t know the normal drill. We normally assemble the platoon in the barracks at dusk and dawn for rollcall. Haven’t had a chance since you’ve been here, for obvious reasons. Make sure you’re at the barracks at 1700 hours. Seriously, that’s important. You don’t want to be done for going AWOL at the best of times. Normally you get chewed out, pay cut, extra work, that sort of thing. Considering current circumstances, though? You might get court martialled for desertion. Make damn sure you clean your weapon, too. I’ll see you at five.”

Without waiting for the private to reply, the officer patted her on the back and trotted down to join the argument on the docks. Apple Bloom tried to find the marine from the PBR again, but it was no use. She had evidently been shuffled off someplace else. With nothing better to do, she decided to try to find Sweetie Belle.

***

The rebel was running the universal truths through her mind as she observed the road, tallying the squads as they passed. “First: all authority is an illusion,” she thought as she noted a squad of the uniformed soldiers passing her. “Second: all authority comes at the cost of freedom”. The soldiers looked terrified. This was rebel territory, and they knew an ambush could come at any moment. “Third: all illusions can be shattered with truth”, the rebel thought to herself as she lay perfectly still in the muddy pit. She didn’t fully understand why she had to be there, but her commanding officer had told her to stay put, and she knew better than to question her superiors.

***

The entirety of platoon two had assembled in their barracks. Malum and Riggs stood by the entrance while Whistle slowly patrolled up and down the middle. The other enlisted ponies were standing at attention besides their beds, their weapons lying before them for the chief to inspect. The ensign was calling out names from a list and making a check when he heard a cry of “Sir!”

“All soldiers present and accounted for, sir,” he concluded, reaching the end of the list. He looked to the chief sergeant, waiting for her to finish inspecting the soldiers’ weapons.

“All weapons clean, cleared and ready for action, sir,” she said at last.

“Good,” the lieutenant smiled, “they’ll need to be. Fillies and gentlecolts, a few nights ago we had the honour of being the first defenders in this war. Tomorrow, we have the honour of taking part in the first counterattack. Our battalion will take part in a combined arms operation across the entire Everfree Forest. Our objective is to locate and eradicate all enemy bases and outposts. Once we have crippled the enemy, we will be relieved by Defence Force regulars, allowing us to join the rest of the regiment in the south. Until then our company will remain stationed in the checkpoint, but our platoon will join platoon one in the attack on the forest itself. Soldiers, we are truly blessed. Very few ponies have an opportunity to be part of something this big. I’ll hand you over to Ensign Riggs to give you the full details on our platoon’s part in the plan.” With that, he exited the barracks.

Riggs smiled incredulously for a moment as he stared at the exit. “At ease,” he said flatly before turning back to the soldiers. “The shit has hit the fan, my little ponies,” he laughed.

“Alright, here’s the deal,” he continued after a brief pause, “Captain Ugly is taking platoons one and two, that is, Haymaker’s platoon and our own platoon, out into the forest. It’s expected to be a four week operation, but that could change at any time. Wake up call’s at 0400 hours sharp. I want you all assembled outside in under a minute. Bring nothing but your weapon. After that, we’re hitting the mess hall. You have ten minutes to eat. We’re picking up all our supplies from the quartermaster at 0415. That gives us another fifteen minutes to load up for a 0430 departure. Platoon one is our escort, and we’re hauling the supply carts. Together we’ll follow the road for about six hours. There, we have to ditch the carts and haul the supplies with saddle bags to a clearing a few hundred metres off the road. We want the command post set up by midday so our friends in the Airborne and Air Force-”

This was met by a disapproving groan from the crowd.

“-I know, I know. So our friends in the Airborne and Air Force can use it as a springboard for their attacks. This is combined arms operation. The Air Force is our only fire support, and we might be fighting shoulder to shoulder with Marines and Airborne, so play nice. Anyway, the rest of the day will be spent setting up defences and such. We got no palisade to protect us this time, so stay alert. Those are all the orders our platoon’s been given, but it goes without saying that we’ll be sending squads out on patrol in the coming days, and the Major’s hinted that we might be hitting a big rebel base soon. Any questions?”

There were none.

“Good. Get some sleep, soldiers. You’ve got a long road ahead of you.”

Into the Dark Green: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It was still dark when the platoons left the checkpoint. The road was well worn from the previous day’s traffic, and the guards at the gate said they were expecting more soldiers to pour through soon. They stuck to their schedule with military efficiency, and had rounded the bend and lost sight of the palisade as the sun teased the horizon behind them.

The convoy was made up of twelve large supply wagons, each pulled by three ponies. The carts were protected by two ponies walking on each side, and another pony sitting on top of the cart. Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Storm were hooked up to the cart while Whisk sat on top, rifle at the ready, his eyes combing the forest on either side of the path. The chief sergeants of both platoons patrolled up and down the line, making sure every pony was either hauling hard or staying alert. The officers were moving among their enlisted ponies freely.

“Why’d we end up doing the hauling, anyway?” huffed Sweetie Belle.

“What, would you rather climb up here?” replied Whisk, “I’ll take exhaustion over a bullet to the head any day, thank you very much.”

Sweetie Belle scoffed and retorted, “Oh, come on. There’s no way we’re seeing combat on the way there. They’re not going to attack a convoy of one hundred soldiers in broad daylight right after we sent hundreds of soldiers over the river. It’d be a suicide mission.”

“What, and hitting the checkpoint wasn’t? You were with me on the palisade, you saw those crazy bastards the other night. If they’ve got the bollocks to charge head on into heavy fire like that, why the hay wouldn’t they take a vulnerable convoy by surprise?”

Apple Bloom smiled as she interjected, “Because now they know who they’re dealing with. They won’t wanna mess with the Equestrian Expeditionary Infantry again too soon after the beating we gave ‘em last time.”

Whisk opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off by a mighty roar. In a fraction of a second, he was flattening himself against the dark green tarpaulin cover of the cart, peering down the sites of his rifle. His heart pounded furiously as he scanned the forest for movement. After a moment, he realised that someone was laughing at him. Looking towards to source of the laughter, he saw Sergeant Avalon, who was sitting atop the wagon in front of him.

“Bit jumpy, corporal?” she jeered.

Another boom rang out and this time Whisk raised his head to see the source. Clouds of smoke were rising from somewhere in the distance. As the corporal strained to get a better look at the carnage, five pegasi flew overhead in single file.

“Fire mission,” Whisk observed, “I wonder who called it in?”

“The Air Force probably arranged it themselves. There probably wasn’t even a target there. Those ponies are used to practice ranges in the San Palomino. They need the practice,” Avalon replied.

Apple Bloom could barely see the rising smoke, yet she was still awestruck by the sheer power the pegasi exerted. “Now why in the hay didn’t we get any of that kinda support when they attacked the checkpoint?” she demanded.

“They’re pegasi. They were probably napping. Besides, air support isn’t nearly as effective as you’d think. Unless they really bomb the living hay out of the place, the slightest bit of cover, like this thick forest, can render the fire mission wasted. Plus, if there are friendlies nearby, it can easily backfire. The biggest problem is that it only takes one bullet or bit of flak to bring down a pegasi. If the enemy’s already got guns at the ready, every Air Force commander know that it’s a suicide mission.”

“But of course most officers don't have a problem calling in suicide missions, ” Whisk added.

***

The hours ticked by slowly. It was a cloudless day and the sun bore down relentlessly. Apple Bloom felt her uniform grow heavier with sweat. Every step was a struggle. Before long, the thought of being attacked was drowned out by sheer exhaustion. She was too tired to be scared. Hauling the wagon was a boring, strenuous task. The escorts and Whisk made small talk to pass the time, but the private didn’t know what they were talking about. She was drifting off into her own world.

Just as she felt like she couldn’t go on any further, a loud bang rang out through the forest. Apple Bloom initially disregarded it as another practice run from the Air Force, but quickly realised something was wrong when the ponies around her started yelling. She was snapped back to reality as an almighty roar came from up the road.

“Keep moving, keep moving!” some pony was yelling as the escorts dove for cover, leaving the unarmed haulers exposed. Some of the ponies atop the wagons were leaping down and hitting the dirt. Whisk and Avalon were among those who stayed put.

“Come on,” Whisk roared as he took pot shots into the forest, “we’re sitting ducks! Pull, you bastards! Pull!”

Trying her best to ignore the screams and gunfire around her, Apple Bloom began breathing heavily. With an enormous effort, she picked up the pace. She was stronger than the other two because of her background of manual labour, but after a moment she felt the burden ease as the unicorn and stallion mustered all their strength. Before she knew it, she was building up her pace. After a moment, she was trotting. Her mind was blank as she entered a full speed gallop.

“Ease up, ease up!” some pony yelled.

Apple Bloom took a deep breath and felt herself slowing down. Gazing around stupidly, she took in her surroundings. The convoy was proceeding as it was before, as if nothing had happened. Confused, she slowed to a walk.

“Celestia be damned, girl, you’ve got some legs on you!” Whisk remarked, “nearly drove the whole convoy into a stampede, you did.”

“What happened?” the mare asked, still practically in a stupor.

“A few rebels blew up something in front of us and took a few pot shots at us. They were gone before we even returned fire. Probably trying to slow us down. No pony was hurt.”

“I hope they don’t try it again, mah legs can’t handle another sprint.”

“We’ve got to be close. One moment,” Whisk said to Apple Bloom, before turning the opposite way and yelling “Beg ya pardon, ma’am, but can ya give us an idea when-a-bouts we’ll be unloading, ma’am?”

“Not long, corporal,” came the reply of a clear and deep voice, “should be less than an hour. It’ll probably take us the rest of the day to haul everything to the command post and set up.”

“Aye aye, Captain, err, sir, err, ma’am! Yes ma’am!” stammered Whisk.

“You’ve got the two new kids up front there, don’t you, Whisk?”

“Yes, ma’am. Privates Bloom and Belle.”

There was no reply, but Apple Bloom could almost sense the corporal shifting uncomfortably behind her. She saw Storm’s eyes widen as he tried to maintain a straight face. Some pony to her right cleared their throat, and Apple Bloom quickly turned to look.

Captain Ugly lived up to her name. She was an aging yellow unicorn mare whose face was riddled with wrinkles and war wounds. The most prominent of these was what appeared to be a large burn on her left cheek. Her eyes, barely visible under perpetually squinting lids, were a dull brown. Her short gray mane was barely visible beneath her peaked cap, which bore the twin red bars of an Expeditionary Force captain. A necklace dangled about her neck. It seemed to be made of some kind of off-white bead. Apple Bloom couldn’t help but stare at it.

The captain laughed, “The necklace tends to have that affect on ponies. I made it myself. Know what they are, private? Know what I decorated my necklace with?”

Apple Bloom stared at the strange beads a moment longer, before gasping in sudden realisation. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, “those would be, err, teeth, ma’am.”

“Of what animal, private?”

The young mare made the mistake of hesitating.

“Of what animal?” the captain repeated sternly, her good-humoured smile instantly morphing into an impatient glare.

“Ponies, ma’am. They’re adult pony teeth.”

“Exactly right, private,” Ugly said coldly as the smile returned to her face, “want to know why I wear a necklace of pony teeth?”

Apple Bloom didn’t answer. She just kept walking. They hadn’t taught her how to deal with this in basic training. Officers were supposed to deliver short, clear orders and the enlisted ponies were supposed to obediently follow.

“Why do you wear a necklace of pony teeth, ma’am?” Sweetie Belle asked when she realised her friend had fallen silent.

“Good question, private!” the officer beamed, “Well, I like the keep a record of my accomplishments. I’ve got nine teeth here. Count them. One, two, three, four, five, six, seve, eight, nine. See? Nine. Take a guess how many commanding officer I’ve beaten, private.”

“Nine, ma’am.”

“Now, how’d you manage to guess that? You’re a real smart one, you are. The tradition started back when I was in the academy. Long before you were born. Our capstone project was to play a war game. I was leading the attacking team. When we stormed the enemy command post, the other guy panicked and ran straight into a tree, knocking a tooth out. He ran off in humiliation without bothering to collect it. So I did. I showed it to everyone at the academy bar that night as a bragging point. They thought it was brilliant. Sick, but brilliant. Since then, it’s kind of become a thing. It can be pretty awkward when the CO is still alive, and you have to force the tooth from their mouth.”

Apple Bloom winced and clenched her teeth. It seemed so gruesome. The captain saw this and laughed.

“I’m making you uncomfortable, private? That’s a shame. If my company isn’t wanted, I’ll go check on the other squads. See you at the command post.” With that, the mare trotted up to the next wagon.

“That mare gives me the creeps,” Sweetie Belle said under her breath.

“That mare is our best hope of getting through the Everfree alive.” Storm replied matter-of-factly, “There’s a reason she’s still got all her teeth, you know.”

***

Apple Bloom was slipping into a stupor again when she heard someone cry, “Stop stop stop!”

This was met by the chant of “Stop stop stop!” by every pony sitting on top of a cart. Within moments, the convoy ground to a halt. An indecipherable order was yelled at the front of the line.

Avalon echoed the order as she climbed down from the wagon, “Everypony de-cart. Untie yourselves and wait for further orders.”

A collective sigh of relief could be heard from the entire platoon as all the haulers undid their cumbersome harnesses and the team leaders climbed down from their vulnerable positions atop the wagons. The NCOs in the second platoon issued orders as they took their positions. They were crouching down, taking cover at the edge of the road.

Apple Bloom stretched her limbs out as she noticed a young blue unicorn mare in a peaked cap climb atop the wagon in the centre of the convoy.

“That’s Lieutenant Haymaker,” Storm informed the two newest soldiers, “platoon two’s CO. Real fancy intellectual type.”

“Alright, guys,” Haymaker cried, struggling to project her voice loud enough for every pony to hear her, “platoon one got all our gear this far. Now it’s our turn. Every squad in my platoon will take our gear in saddle bags to the command post. For the first trip, one team from each squad will go unencumbered, acting as an escort. When we get to the clearing, I will stay with squad one to set up. Two, three and four will go back for the second load. This time, every team will carry something. Two and four from platoon one will be the escort. At this point...”

Most of the soldiers were zoning out as the lieutenant droned on and on. It was still morning, but it had been a tiring day. They were just grateful for the moment of rest. Realising that she wasn’t being listened to, Haymaker stopped talking and scowled. She climbed down and allowed the captain to take her place.

“Attention!” she boomed at a volume that must have reached Canterlot. She instantly had the attention of both platoons, so she smiled as she continued, “Platoon two’s heading into the forest first, then platoon one’s going to help ‘em out. Listen to your officers, chiefs and sergeants. Most of them have some idea of what’s going on. Sergeants, make sure you’re clear on what your squad has to do. Platoon two, make ready to move out!”

After a few minutes of confusion, platoon two had loaded up saddle bags with some of the supplies from the carts. There was still a mountain of gear in the wagons that would need to be moved. Some of the soldiers carried folded up mortars or machine guns across their backs, but they would be useless if they were attacked on the trek through the forest, as they wouldn’t have time to set up.

Satisfied that the platoon was ready to move, Haymaker cried out, “Platoon two, move out on me! We’re heading north. Stay close,” and led her soldiers into the forest.

***

Apple Bloom stood to the side of the road next to Storm. It had been almost half an hour since platoon two had headed out into the forest. The mare could feel her pulse quicken. It shouldn’t take this long to trek less than a kilometre through the jungle.

“What’s taking them so long?” she hissed.

“Haven’t you ever been bush-bashing before?” Storm inquired sharply.

Apple Bloom shook her head as she replied, “Nope. Never through forest this thick, anyway.”

“Well, you’ll see why they’re taking so long once we follow them in. Hell, what we have to put up with is a hay of a lot easier than what platoon two’s dealing with right now. They’ll have already cleared a bit of a path for us.”

The mare was about to reply when some movement in the forest caught her eye. Storm saw it too, and the pair half-raised their weapons. This could be an enemy. It could be a sudden suicide attack from a desperate rebel. It could be a scout studying their position in preparation for a massive assault. It took all of Apple Bloom’s self control to resist firing on the potentially life threatening figure.

“Friendly,” the mare in the forest said when she saw the two ponies with their guns trained on her. As she exited the forest, Apple Bloom could see that she was wearing an Expeditionary Force uniform. She was shortly followed by the rest of her squad, who proceeded to load their saddle bags.

“We’re up,” said Avalon as she walked to the threshold of the forest, “Bravo, on point with me. Charlie, behind us with platoon two. Alpha, bring up the rear.”

“That’s us, kids,” Whisk said, joining Storm and Apple Bloom and beckoning Sweetie Belle to follow.

The four ponies stood together silently as they watched their comrades load up and enter the forest. With a moment’s hesitation, Storm was the first of the four to follow everypony else. Sweetie Belle went in after him without a second thought. Dragging her hooves, Apple Bloom approached the dense foliage just off the track. She suddenly became very sick and nauseous. I felt like she’d swallowed a frozen brick. A cold breeze seemed to be flowing from the Everfree. It seemed so evil.

“Go on, Bloom,” Whisk spoke softly, “stay in my sight and you’ll be fine. Trust me. I’ll be right behind you.”

With a deep sigh, she braced herself. She swallowed hard and crossed the threshold into the dark green.

Shallow Water: Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A wave of relief flowed over every pony aboard PBR-471. It got hairy, but they pushed through and left the enemy behind them. Starting with the skipper, a relieved laughter spread through four of the ponies on board. The chief cut through the warmth with sharp, icy tone.

“Hey, I’m still wounded here!”

All the non-commissioned ponies abandoned their positions to huddle around their senior. Juvenis grabbed a first aid kit from the wheelhouse on his way and tightly wrapped a bandage around the chief’s injury. As they tended to the wounded mare, the skipper called ahead to the checkpoint with details of the fire fight.

“Gah, what a stupid mistake,” the chief continued, grunting with pain, “First thing they teach you: don’t stick your foreleg out. What a damn stupid thing to do, and when it’s THIS hairy...” she trailed off, looking down at the deck and away from her comrades. “I really let you down. All of you,” she finished with utmost sincerity.

“Bullet went clean though the foreleg,” Juvenis said, “About as lucky as you can get, so far as being shot goes. Hey, every pony makes mistakes, right? Like you said, it got real hairy there. Cut yourself some slack.”

“You’ll probably be getting the full veteran treatment for that, chief,” added the skipper, “Platinum Heart, Distinguished Marine Badge, Golden Lanyard, and an honourable medical discharge are all coming your way.”

“Discharge, sir?” the chief sounded shocked and appalled.

“C’mon now chief, I know the Marine Force has been your life, but you can’t expect to be operating a MG with your arm hanging off. It’s time for you to find who you are outside the service. It’s a big world out there, plenty of opportunities for a distinguished veteran like yourself. Besides, this is about the best time you could get discharged. I haven’t seen any pony attack that desperately since Nightmare Moon’s insurgents back in 2000. What’s more, this boat ain’t even of any strategic value. This was a statement. Mark my words, soon Celestia will be declaring the Everfree a warzone. I don’t know how far this stuff will go, maybe full blown mobilisation, but at the very least we’ve got an organised uprising on our hooves. It’s been a long time coming.”

“When you put it like that, maybe a discharge isn’t so bad after all,” she smiled weakly, her adrenalin waning. She was breathing heavily, but still going strong.

“You three,” she continued after catching her breath, “listen, I was hard on you back there. You know, the whole shooting at nothing business. I tried to justify it by telling myself it was for your own good, but that’s crap. I’m-” she hesitated, trying to find the right words, "I’m a very angry pony. For years, I’ve been using my rank and duties as an excuse to vent my frustration. Don’t let yourselves become like me, ok? You’ve got what it takes to be soldiers, you showed that today...” she trailed off and furrowed her brow, as if in deep thought, before addressing Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom “Hey, the expeditionary could use some good troops like you two. If the skip’s right, you could be in for a hell of a ride. Just hold on tight and try not to lose yourself. You’re good ponies. Don’t let them change you.”

“You always get this sappy when you’re wounded?” Sweetie Belle smirked.

“Seriously though, cut the wiseass routine. It won’t do you any favours,” The chief said sternly. It was easy to tell that she was suppressing a smile. Leaning back, she laid her head on the deck and tried to get comfortable. She’d said her piece, and it was finally time to rest.

***

The council’s attention snapped to the white pegasus mare with the blonde mane who clapped her hooves together. “Alright,” said Marshal Plume, commander of the Airborne, “now that the new kid’s been filled in let’s finally get to the business at hand. If I’m understanding the issue correctly, it seems to me we need to wipe out these rebels without making a big deal out of it. Where are these factions stationed? We can fly some of my ponies in, take the buggers out, and piss off before any pony’s the wiser.”

Underhoof shuffled his notes magically and adjusted his glasses with his hoof, “Let’s see here... goes without saying there’s some major players in New Apple Loosa, Old Apple Loosa, Dodge Junction, San Palomino Desert, the Badlands, the deep southern colonies, the Everfree Forest - ah...” he halted and glanced around at the other council members before continuing, “I knew there was a problem. One of the biggest factions keeps its headquarters in urban Los Pegasus. Don’t think you can fly out of there without drawing any attention.”

A collective groan came from the council members. Los Pegasus was one of Equestria’s most populous cities, and was normally considered part of Equestria proper rather than the colonies. Still, it had the same limited legal privileges as the rest of the colonies, with an appointed governor rather than an elected senator. Under Limitata Monarchia, every population centre given the privileges of an Equestrian constituency needed to be placed under the jurisdiction of one of the lords. Pleasing the large population of the famed centre of art, culture and technology didn’t seem worth the political instability between the noble families as each of them vied for control over the area.

“The only way to keep this discrete,” Luna droned in a defeated tone, “would be to draw the border at the Canterlot River junction, and cut off all travel and communication between the north and the south. It would cripple our economy and cause massive instability, not to mention the moral question of taking such drastic measures.”

“It would be useless,” Marshal Cossack added, “that city has a population of over three million, not to mention the four million who live in its neighbouring colonies. Almost half of those are pegasi. Forget secession, Underhoof. With those numbers, they could invade Equestria. Not to mention their massive economic power and cultural influence. We can’t risk provoking the western colonists.”

“Like I said,” Colonel Underhoof retorted as he stabbed the earth pony with his eyes, “this is a complicated issue. Surging them will make us look like the bad guys. There’s no way to quickly and totally eradicate them without drawing attention. We can’t risk losing the aristocrats’ loyalty until these rebels are gone, or at least as unorganised and weakened as they were a few months ago. Our only option is to use propaganda and subversive tactics to make the rebels look like the bad guys. Put our armies at the ready and wait for them to make a move. They attack a patrol? Make it out to be a cowardly, illegal attack on a group of young soldiers who were transporting medical supplies to a hospital for blind orphans. Say that they’re using slave or child soldiers. That sort of thing. Eventually, the population will be begging us to interfere. THEN we can act. Not only will it allow us to remove this problem, it will help ensure the loyalty of the alicorns’ subjects when the real civil war with the aristocracy breaks out. I don’t think there’s any question, this is really our only option. It’s simply a matter of how we’ll go about it.”

For the final time, the meeting was gripped in silence. None of the councillors could think of a way to challenge the egghead’s logic. Most of the Marshals would prefer to just rush in, guns blazing. They were military professionals, not diplomats. The two alicorns exchanged some hushed words.

“Ok,” said Celestia once she had reached a private agreement with her sister, “put all forces south of the Canterlot River junction on high alert, but go to strict rules of engagement. Do not fire until fired upon. The newspapers and the history books alike WILL say that the rebels fired first and that we were merely acting in self defence. The Marshals and Colonel Spitfire are excused. Colonel Underhoof will stay here so that we can flesh out the finer details of our little subversion. We’ll keep you posted, and remember: this meeting never happened. Dismissed!”

Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

In two hours, the soldiers of Checkpoint Charlie were barely able to clear two metres of the thick vegetation. As the chief sergeant swore at the slow labour, Ensign Riggs came out to check on the progress. He called the chief over, and the two discussed their problem. From her position, Apple Bloom strained her ears to hear the conversation.

“Hi, chief. The major’s unhappy with our progress,” said the new arrival, “An entire platoon ought’a be able ‘a’ clear more’n one metre per hour. At this rate, we won’t have the five metre clearance we need for back burning ‘til it’s dark out.

“She must be expecting an attack damn soon,” replied Whistle, “I don’t fancy having a bunch of rebs with perfect cover a few metres from the base. The wind’s pretty still, do you think we can light it up now without risking the palisade, Riggs?”

“Yea, it’s pretty wet. I had a fair bit of experience with fire down in the badlands. Honestly, the only way we’d light up any of the wood in this damp, cold swamp is if we gave it a bit of a kick. I’ll go scrounge up some fuel. Clear as much of the forest as you can ‘till I get back.”

“What about Lieutenant Malum? He’ll never let us disregard proper procedure like that.”

“Hey, what the lieutenant doesn’t know won’t hurt him. He won’t come out here until he knows it’s safe, so when I write this up I’ll just say we got the five metre clearance. There’re upsides to having a student officer in the platoon, huh?”

As the pair reached their agreement, Sweetie Belle whispered to the young private to her left, “So, what’s the deal with this Riggs guy, anyway?”

“Hey, I don’t talk to no cherry, cherry!” he replied sharply.

“Don’t mind him, private,” Avalon said from down the line, “he’s a bit of a dick.”

The stallion swung a final blow against a tree and finally managed to fell it before saying “Now, why the hay aren’t you hazing the new foals? You hazed me like no pony’s business!”

“We didn’t give you a hard time for being new, Storm,” interjected Whiskey helpfully, “we gave you a hard time because you’re a wanker. We’ve gotten used to it now though.”

Private Storm took a moment to glare at the corporal before resuming his labour. He knew better than to give him a rise. That pony had learned to feed on the disapproval of others.

Seeing that he couldn’t get a reaction out of Storm, Whiskey bowed his head in disappointment. He kept labouring away at the trees, but desperately needed some pony to entertain him. He tilted his head towards the unicorn before saying, in a hushed tone, “You were asking about Riggs?”

“Yea, that’s right.”

“Riggs isn’t our commanding officer. That’s lieutenant Malum. Riggs is an officer in training. He’s supposed to be learning while Malum leads, but Malum’s kind of ended up loading all his duties on him and the chief. They chose about the worst platoon for an officer to be trained in. Malum’s not exactly the Equestrian military’s finest.”

“Sure, but I want to know what his deal is. What sort of pony is he?

“He’s only been with us about two months, and he probably won’t be with us much longer, but he seems ok. That Malum, on the other hand,” Whiskey looked around to make sure there were no officers nearby before smiling and lowering his voice even further, “he’s a real piece of work. Born silver spoon in hoof, he’s from some noble family. He’s a unicorn aristocrat. The way he looks at us, you get the impression he despises every last common earth pony among us. You’ll figure that out yourself soon enough. Believe me, you’ll see.”

Chief Sergeant Whistle had finished conversing with the ensign and moved silently along the line of working ponies. She stopped behind the talkative corporal, who was completely oblivious to her presence. She knew he had been bad mouthing their commanding officer. Normally she’d just ignore it, no pony liked Malum anyway. This time, however, it was getting in the way of work

With a stern look on her face, she glared at the corporal and said “Can we please keep the insubordination to a minimum? You’ve got a job to do, soldier.”

Whiskey jumped in his skin and the smile on his face disappeared for a moment. He recovered from his shock, smiling back at the senior NCO, and replied with an enthusiastic “yes, ma’am!” before turning away from her piercing gaze.

***

It was another hour before Ensign Riggs returned to his platoon, two drums of fuel balanced on his back. The massive weight didn’t appear to encumber him at all as he walked down to the chief. A collective sigh of relief could be heard from every pony in the platoon. Their labour was finally over, and they were about to see a hell of a blaze.

“Alright you lot,” Whistle declared in a loud, clear voice, “don’t start slacking off now. We still need to splash this fuel around the place and light it up before we can call it a day,” she turned to the ensign and lowered her voice before finishing, “your platoon now. Don’t screw up.”

“I reckon I can manage,” he drawled in reply before assuming his own commanding voice, “Listen up, ya’all. We need to get all the kindling that’s already cut down right clear of the palisade before we get our little bonfire going. Squads one to three will work on pushing everything that might catch a spark right up under the forest. Squad four is two ponies short, as I recall, so they’ll help me slosh this here fuel ‘round the place. Questions?”

Avalon raised her hoof before clearing her throat, getting the officer’s attention.

“Yes, sergeant?”

“We’re a full squad now, sir,” she said, “Chief gave us the two new kids.”

“Oh. Well, that’s alright. I guess I best get to know the pair a bit better anyway. Can’t hardly have eight hooves in the platoon that I ain’t familiar with, can I? The two greenhorns will stick close to me. The other members of their fire team will carry the fuel while I point out where to splash it down. The other two fire teams will escort us through the forest. Clear?”

“As crystal, sir,” Avalon turned to face her soldiers before barking, “you heard the man. Alpha, on the ensign. Bravo, charlie, stagger up behind me.”

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom joined Corporal Whisk and Private Storm in lining up in front of the ensign and saluting. He rolled his eyes and mumbled “at ease” as teams bravo and charlie entered the forest ahead of them. “Storm, Whisk, take one of these here barrels each and follow me. You two,” here he squinted at the insignias of his two new soldiers to read their names, “Bloom and Belle, one of ya’all stand on mah left, one of you on the right. Stay at least a metre away from me, but don’t stray. Wouldn’t want to be gettin’ lost in the forest on your first day, now.”

Each soldier said “yes sir” as they obeyed the orders. Whisk and Storm awkwardly took the barrels from the ensign, resting them on their backs. The drums seemed to balance so well on Riggs, but the enlisted ponies weren’t so lucky. They were forced to move about on three legs, the third limb holding the barrel in place. With every pony in position, they proceeded into the forest.

Riggs guided the ponies through the forest, being sure to keep his orientation and trying to keep the palisade in sight. He pointed out where the fuel needed to be spilled while he gave the two new arrivals the welcome speech he was working on.

“Welcome to the platoon,” he said, “We’re your new family. forget what you had back home. Won’t give ya’all any comfort here. I’m Ensign Riggs. I’m just passing through here on my way to becoming an officer. If you have any grievances regarding your new daddy, Lieutenant Malum, I’ll see that they get to ‘im. Chief Sergeant Whistle, she’s your big sister. She’ll always help you out in a jam, it’s her job. Don’t go crying to her every five minutes, though. She’s a might grouchy, and she’s earned the right to be. Hay, they don’t give that many chevrons to just any pony. More’n I can say for a commission these days. Anyway, the enlisted ponies are your brothers and sisters in arms. I expect you to protect one another as if you was kin.”

“yes, sir” the two ponies replied.

“Don’t ‘sir’ me out here. ‘Course in the base you gotta salute me and act real formal and respectful like, even though I ain’t quite an officer, but out here I’m just ‘Riggs’. Mind you, I still expect you to show respect, obedience and discipline. I just never quite took to being ‘sir’. I feel ‘sarge’ suited me better.”

“So you were a non-com at some stage, Riggs?” inquired the unicorn.

“Certainly was. I was twenty when the expeditionary rolled through my town. Most exciting thing I’d ever seen. See, I used to work down’n the oil fields in the badlands. Town had a population of about one hundred. Nothin’ ta do but work and sit. When I saw these ponies travelling all across Equestria, I felt like I had to join. They were more’n happy to give me a ride to the recruiting station, too. I was the leader of a drillin’ team, so I’d had plenty of experience with leadership and manual labour. I did basic training at Dodge Barracks, spent the next six years with the mobile expeditionary cavalry, bouncin’ all over the colonies. I’ve seen everything from coast to coast. Los Pegasus, Dodge City, even Baltimare one time. A while after they bumped me from junior sergeant to proper sergeant, they asked if I wanted to go for a commission. Well, I’d intended on staying as a non-com, maybe become a chief and help run a platoon, but here they were offering me a college scholarship! I jumped at the chance. Did a year in Canterlot Academy, got offered a spot in Manehattan Point, in which case I’d instantly become a lieutenant, but turned it down to do Duntrot Expeditionary College. Even as an officer, I’d rather be in the field. Indoors is too darn stuffy. Anyway, after another two years I graduated from Duntrot and got assigned to the infantry here. That was just two months ago. Honestly, I kind of regret it. I’m used to the open, scorching desert, not this darn wetland. Hopefully they’ll put me back in the cav once I make L.T. Anyway, that’s my story. How about ya’all?”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” muttered the unicorn.

“She joined ‘cause I did,” smiled Apple Bloom, “I joined to help ‘n’ support mah family.”

“So you joined the army,” mused the officer, “to get rich?”

“Not exactly.”

“It’s as good a reason as any, really. We’re just about done here,” said Riggs as he observed the scene, before gesturing with his hoof as he issued further orders, “Storm, your barrel empty? Yes? Good. Whiskey, empty yours from there, to there.”

“Hey Riggs,” said Whiskey as he followed the order, “if we’re all a big family, does that make me the sleazy uncle?”

“There’s a difference between being sleazy and being a dangerous criminal, corporal.”

The two new recruits looked at the corporal with surprise. The ensign’s smile faded as he saw their shocked expressions. He looked at Whiskey sympathetically before muttering “so I guess you haven’t gotten ‘round to tellin’ ‘em how YOU ended up here, then?”

“Well, I might as well say now. Probably best they know what a mean thing I am, seeing we’ll be serving together.” The corporal paused to hide his annoyance behind a thin smile before looking at his new comrades and continuing, “I am, by all accounts, a bad, bad pony. Since I was a little foal, I’ve been getting meself into all manner of strife. Didn’t take long for my youthful shenanigans to turn into petty crime. It was much easier than finding actual work, and it became a lifestyle. One day, a friend of mine gave me an opportunity with a real big payoff. With that much cash, I would’ve been set for life.”

“So what happened?” asked Sweetie Belle.

“Did you know the Marines have patrol boats patrolling the island of Manehattan, looking for smugglers? I didn’t. I was seventeen at the time, but it wasn’t the first time I’d been caught and it was a very serious crime, so I was tried as an adult. They gave me a choice between twelve years in prison or an eight year enlistment. I figure anything’s better than jail, and I was right. By sacrificing rank, I managed to avoid combat for almost seven years.”

“Your lucks run out, Whiskey.” The ensign was still looking at him sympathetically, “The storm’s a-brewin’. The last year of your deployment could be the most violent since Nightmare. Maybe even worse.” He allowed this to sink in for a moment before ordering his ponies out of the forest. He smiled to himself at the thought of what was to come; he hadn’t had a decent bonfire in years.

Checkpoint Charlie: Chapter 5

Chapter 5

No pony knew what they were shooting at. All they knew was that there could be ponies hiding in the darkness who wanted to kill them. The ponies of Checkpoint Charlie threw as much firepower as they could at the forest, not even sure if there were any enemies outside. It took about ten seconds for the next flares to go up, and this was more than enough time for every pony on the palisade to empty a clip into the blackness.

The lieutenant in charge of the flare gun began to panic a bit. He fumbled with the device, creating a delay in the supply of precious light to the troops. To try and compensate for his delay, he fired far more flares than necessary. He temporarily blinded every pony on the western wall. They kept shooting, none the less.

When the level of illumination was finally bright enough to clearly see outside the base, but not so high as to blind any pony, the infantrymen finally understood what the rebels were doing. Many of the rebels had covered themselves in soot and were trying to sneak up to the checkpoint under cover of dark. Even with the flickering light of the flares, they were barely visible. It was a wonder none of them had made it right up to the wall. They could have been out there all night.

Between the forest and the palisade, the rebels had dug a few trenches. They were small holes, but big enough for a pony to have total cover if they flattened themselves against the earth. Knowing that they had been spotted, this is exactly what the rebels had done. In the initial confusion, the rebels who couldn’t make it to the forest had scrambled into their holes. Apart from Whisk’s initial hit, the confused blind fire hadn’t made a single mark.

Most of the rebels remained in the forest itself. They had good cover there, and had set up mounted guns to support their assault. With their position compromised, these guns were now firing non-stop. The forest was their land, and they knew that they could easily melt away in it when the fight turned against them. There was no way they could take the base and they knew it. Their main objective was to demoralise the enemy, all the while gaining renown and, therefore, recruitment power. Hit and run was the name of the game. Freak the soldiers out and get the hell out of there before they took serious casualties.

With the rebels unwilling to advance, all either side could do was sling lead at the other. It was a crude way to fight. The riflemen on each side were forced to stay in cover while the machineguns roared, chewing up a ridiculous amount of ammunition. Neither side had a shortage of it; most of the time it did nothing but weigh the rebels down, and the high command kept sending Checkpoint Charlie more ammunition with every supply run.

“Why don’t we have any mortars?” demanded Whiskey as he sprayed the forest, “If we had mortars, we could just pepper them, forcing them out of their damn holes. Grenades would do the trick too. I swear, the high command thinks the only way to fight is with a slugfest. Seriously, what the-”

He suddenly stopped talking when a shrill scream rang out above them. His blood ran cold and he kept his face as stern as possible, trying not to give away his concern. Hoping against hope that the scream hadn’t come from Storm, Avalon, or any other pony he actually cared about, he stopped himself from glancing up. His squad needed him to keep shooting.

The corporal felt a dull thud across his back. Something heavy had landed on him, and it felt warm. Shuddering, he took his eyes off the forest for a moment and shot a glance back at the weight. He joined the other two ponies in the pit as they shrieked in terror at the dead body that had fallen on top of them. It was a pony that the corporal had only met in passing, but it was shocking and terrible nonetheless.

Whiskey groaned in despair as he tore his gaze away from those lifeless eyes, back to the battlefield. He felt physically sick with the thing still resting on top of him. The putrid smell and the deadweight of the body were nightmarish. There was nothing he could do. Telling himself that he couldn’t afford to get distracted, he tried to focus on the job at hand. It was impossible for him to shake the image. This terrible thing could just as easily have happened to Storm, Avalon or himself. Feeling the gun’s recoil cease, he was relieved that he had an excuse to stop shooting. He was suddenly feeling absolutely exhausted.

“I’m reloading!” he cried.

Apple Bloom took this as her cue. It was time for her to make a difference and protect her brothers and sisters in arms. As Sweetie Belle assisted the corporal with reloading, she raised her rifle and stuck the barrel through the hole. Peering down the sites, she aimed at one of the muzzle flashes coming from the forest. Nothing would distract her. She would not let the platoon down. Mentally picturing where the gunner’s head would be, she modified her aim. After a deep breath, she let out five shots in quick succession. The flashing from the forest stopped.

“I got him! I got him!” she cried with a smile as she quickly span back into cover.

“Get out of the way, I’m reloaded,” the corporal screamed as he resumed his suppressive fire.

He shot a disapproving sideways glance at Apple Bloom, which upset her. Had she done something wrong? Looking at the dead body for the first time, she shuddered and quickly looked away. Pretending it wasn’t there, she reloaded her weapon, mentally preparing herself for the next time she needed to cover the corporal. Apple Bloom or Sweetie Belle could have moved the soldier’s body out of the pit at any stage while the corporal wasn’t reloading, but they convinced themselves that it was quite impossible. The elephant in the room could be dealt with after the rebels. To acknowledge the body would be to acknowledge the concept of death.

Seeing his friend take a bullet, one of the less disciplined rebels was stirred to action. She vowed to avenge her friend, right there and then. Better to die a hero than live a coward, she figured. Defying the orders of her superior, she leapt out of the forest and charged towards the palisade, galloping straight ahead without regard for her own safety. The moment she broke the tree line, another group of rebels took this as a cue. They took this as a sign that orders had changed, that the new plan was to charge. About a dozen extra ponies followed her into the meat grinder.

Of course, charging headlong into machinegun fire isn’t a particularly wise tactic. It was a massacre. Half of them were mown down the moment they left their cover. Screaming in pained horror, no pony enjoyed the mercy of a quick death. They stared helplessly back to their friends in the forest, pleading for assistance. It was an indecipherable, guttural cry. One that seemed totally foreign and weird. There was no way a pony could make that sound. The few rebels who weren’t hit in the charge were now taking cover in their holes, looking back helplessly at the incomprehensible site behind them.

“Reloading!” cried Whisk after emptying a box of ammo into the oncoming herd.

Apple Bloom was, once again, quick to start firing. She was getting faster and faster at lining her shots up, and was eager to prove it. To her disappointment, no pony was out of cover. Scanning the tree line, she was about to take a few pot shots at the enemy machineguns when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

Many of the rebels who were hit in the charge hadn’t bled out yet. One of them seemed more active than the others. She was frantically crawling to something other than the forest. Following the pony’s line of site, Apple Bloom saw her new target.

Leopard crawling towards the injured pony was a young stallion. He was reaching out a hoof to the injured mare, trying to pull her into the safety of the forest. Seeing this site, Apple Bloom suddenly felt a surge of adrenalin and became giddy. It was another chance to prove herself. Calming her excited nerves, she put her sites on his chest. With a light squeeze, she sent a single projectile downrange. It made its mark.

“Take that, ya filthy rebs!” screamed the young redneck, grinning broadly.

“The hell is wrong with you?” demanded Whiskey, who shoved her out of the way as he resumed his suppressive fire. Once again, the private was confused by the corporal’s disapproval.

On the other side of the palisade, the rebel commander observed the chaos from the safety of the Everfree. With his ponies demoralised, their message made, discipline breaking and heavier casualties than he anticipated, he realised that they had stayed too long. He blew a whistle, and was satisfied to hear the responding whistles from his sergeants. Every pony in the forest suddenly unleaded everything they had at the palisade, in the same manner they had against the PBR, forcing even the ponies in the machinegun pits to take cover.

Whisk ducked down hastily, barely avoiding a bullet that whirred through the tiny opening. He swore loudly and, putting one hoof around Sweetie Belle and one hoof around Apple Bloom, forced both the privates to flatten themselves against the earth with him. A few of cries ran out somewhere on the palisade. Apparently some ponies didn’t duck soon enough. No pony was willing to let that happen to them. After the brief barrage ceased, there was a moment of silence. No soldier was entirely convinced that the firing had stopped.

When he was finally satisfied it was relatively safe again, the corporal lifted himself of the dirt and peered down the sights of the machinegun, spraying the forest once again. He was joined by the other gunners, but there was no return fire. Nevertheless, they kept firing in anticipation of another charge.

“Cease fire!” called a captain from somewhere behind them.

“Cease fire!” echoed platoon one’s lieutenant further down the line.

“Cease fire!” called Ensign Riggs, realising he was the closest thing platoon two had to a lieutenant.

Obeying the order, every pony stopped shooting. None of them dared make a noise. They were on absolute alert, just like they had been when they first arrived on the palisade. The flares stopped firing, and the ponies realised that an orange glow was growing behind them, to the east. As the sun cleared the horizon, a collective sigh of relief rang out. Dawn had come, driving the enemy away. It was over. They had won.