The Equestrian Civil War

by Sleepyted

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Princess Luna, Original Character, Tragedy, Princess Celestia
Length: 7988

Stories told from the Equestrian Civil War

For years as technology advanced tensions rose. The boarder between the Changeling Lands and Equestria Militarised, other nations became bigger in terms of their impact of the world and machiens advanced.

Now not only pegisus can fly, not only can earth ponies pull large cargo. But with advance comes war. Weapons are no longer sharpened sticks, replaced with black powder and cannons. No longer are there small skirmishes but entire wars with countless dead.

These are stories told by those who were apart of it, those who fought and sacrificed for their beleifs and all they held dear.

(This is based on the 'Equestria at War' Mod for Hearts of Iron 4 and my time speant with it. If you want to experience some of the fun adventures check it out, its free and worth the time)

Published 2021-07-04 17:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-10-28 13:05:11 UTC

The Beginning

There were a few things that really advanced the technology in Equestria. One was the steam engine, being able to propel large amounts of both freight and passengers across vast distances in a relatively short amount of time with only coal and water being able to do so.

Next was the fuel engine, years after. Cutting back requirements in certain places compared to the steam counterpart. It made it easier to take care of on the run since you just had to pour in the required liquid and go, while steam required almost constant tending to make sure the coal flames didn’t die or get to hot and blow the internals.

One massive leap was even getting non-pegisi to fly, using the fuel engines to spin turbines like fans and get lift with fixed wings instead of flapping ones. This allowed eventually to carry cargo and multiple ponies with this power, slowly being improved as time went along.

All these things were relatively good with little draw backs, just improving the lives of both ponies and other species with each advancement in technology. Supplies got to the far off, large trade was made available and all on Equis prospered.

That was until the development of black powder.

It started off with shoving a bunch of it inside a long iron or brass tube and putting a ball of metal in after it to make a cannon. A few years after they decided to make it smaller and make the musket, able to be held by a single pony to fire a tiny ball of metal faster than any arrow could travel and pegisi fly.

Things devolved from there. As the technology traveled around the world and especially Equis countries started to militarize, arming more and more of their solders with new weaponry and replacing simple sharp sticks and sword.

Garrisons increased and spending on finding new forms of weaponry were pushed forward as to not allow the other nations to get a hoof up and to easily take over their lands.

The royal guard of Equestria had changed from just an honor guard and show force to an actual military fighting force as time advanced, replacing most of the spears and shields with muskets and being placed on less display and more in garrisons along the borders to persuade the enemies of Equestria form advancing into the peaceful lands.

The borders between Equestria and the Changeling lands had increased drastically; large boxes made from iron and concrete being erected with large cannons and many ponies and changelings being armed across the large parts of it.

The Crystal Empire had tried to stay fairly neutral since it was on the northern part of Equestria but it too was forced to militarize its borders with the Changelings and Yakyakistan. As its own defenses were built Cadence couldn’t help but worry about the future.

As the push for military advancements happened the increase of weaponry followed. What was once a powder charge and a metal ball put in a tube was soon change to a self-contained cartridge easily placed in a weapon and reloaded with ease.

And thus started to large scale militaries around the planet, from the Griffon Empire to the far reaches of Lake City. And while all countries had their own issues with the world as a whole Equestria had some of the largest.

_______________________________________

Luna took a few deep breathes to calm herself down. While she had been back in Equestria for a few years now after her return from the moon she still felt nervous about asking her sister about anything that concerned the country as a whole.

Hesitantly lifting a hoof she knocked upon the large, solid white doors with golden inlays, waiting for her sister to answer.

“Come in.” Said a motherly voice inside.

Taking a deep breath Luna opened the door and stepped inside, her bat guards waiting outside.

“Hello Cele, I hope I’m not coming at a bad time.” Luna said, closing the door behind her with her magic.

“For you, there’s never a bad time.” The princes of the sun said with a bright smile as she put down her quill, stepping back from the large oaken desk she was sat behind. “What occasion has you visit me during the day? Normally I see you in the evening.” She said walking over to her sister and embracing her in a tight hug.

Luna eagerly returned the embrace, nuzzling int eh nape of her sister’s neck before pulling back. “Actually sister, I’m afraid I’m here for serious matters.” She said nervously.

“Oh? Is something the matter?”

“Matter of fact there is.” Luna said with a deep breath. “As you know there have been some issues involved with my return, and one of them is the Thestrials…”

“What’s the matter?”

“W-Well it has always been taught to ponies that there are three tribes, when in fact there are four…” The princess of the night said, swallowing nervously. “Bat ponies are as much a part of Equestria as unicorns or Pegasus are and it’s not fare that they are viewed as less than and religated to living in the fringes and the mountains.” She said.

Stepping forward, Luna looked at her sister in a serious way. “Celestia, I believe that we need to promote the Thestrials in Equestria and to improve the friendship between all four tribe.” She stated factually. “It shouldn’t hinder a large number of ponies that they backed me a thousand years ago and still be penalized for it. They deserve every right every pony has.”

Celestia was taken aback by the passion of her sister, it had been a while since she had seen this in her.

“I can tell this means a lot to you…” Celestia said, still fairly shocked. “I promise you can do whatever you deem necessary to accomplish your goals.” She said, straightening out as she looked down at the younger pony. “I will make sure that everything you need is supplied and avalible.”

Luna was both glad and apprehensive at this announcement. On one hoof she was glad she was granted free reign to improve relations but on the other angered that her sister herself wouldn’t step in and help, since the solar ruler would go a long way to improve things.

“I thank you sister, I promise I will do everything I can on this subject.” She stated.

“I trust you Lulu, I know you can do it.” Celestia said with a soft smile, gently resting a hoof on her sister’s shoulder.

Stepping back away from the touch she gave a short nod and made for the exit, vexed at the answer she got. “I will see you for dinner then, good day sister.” She said curtly, exiting the room, guards on either side closing the grand entrance to Celestia’s bed chambers.

“See you sister…”

_____________________________

Taking a step towards the large pedestal, looking out at the large crowd that stood before her and the large number radio ponies with their microphones to record her speech Luna couldn’t help but feel hesitation.

Swallowing the lump in her throat she looked down at the microphone before her.

“Equestria, I am Princess Luna, sister of Princess Celestia and co-ruler of Equestria as a whole.” She started, licking her lips and taking a deep breath. “Today I address you about a subject that is attacking the very heart of our country as a whole…”

____________________________

It had been 4 months since Luna addressed Equestria, and things went downhill fairly quickly.

Unknowingly to the Lunar diarchic this would cause all manner of problems, including a number of protests popping up across the country and especially in Canterlot as the head of the Equestrian government.

It resulted in one large gathering before the Canterlot castle gates, guards stood at attention before the shut entrance with rifles pressed to their sides in parade rest as large amounts of both bat ponies and non-bat’s stood around with signs, shouting at the castle as if each of their protests were heard.

Stock had been on duty for the past 4 hours.

He took pride in the state of his golden armour, spending a few hours a day polishing it to a mirror shine to show how much pride he had in the uniform since the past 5 generations of his family had all been guards.

While all his ancestors had spears against their shoulder’s, Stock Still had a new rifle, pretty much fresh off the mill. It improved from the last one he was given which had to have a loading lever pulled back and a new shot slipped in each time it was to be shot before one could be shot again. Now the bullets were loaded on a strip of metal and slotted into the top of the rifle. This allowed one to rack a bolt back and forth to load shots faster than individually loading each one.

And like his armour, Stock made sure it was as perfect as it could be. The metal was fresh and oiled, the slide action smooth as it was possible and not to even mention the wooden parts, a shine comparable to the sun with how long he spends rubbing it down with varnish and then the polishing it out.

Just because it’s no longer a metal polearm doesn’t mean Stock should slack off with the maintenance of his weapon, although sharpening wasn’t too much of an issue anymore because of it.

The sheer amount of pride he put in himself and his equipment had been around for years. Through the Nightmare Moon Return and the Changeling Wedding Invasion, although the second was a lot bigger for him personally since he was stationed in Canterlot at the time.

It both confused and frightened him how much these protesters seemed to not care about the uniform and what it stood for, shouting at him and his fellows, slinging slurs. Don’t they know what he has done for Equestria? What he’s lost and what others have lost in the name of their country? And now he’s being accused of being a traitor by those he protected, by those he spilt blood for in the Canterlot invasion.

The gnashing jaws of the changeling, watching the red and green blood flow upon the cobbled streets as he fought tooth and hoof.

The horrible skirmish he was in, surrounds on all sides with the hoard of buzzing insects, the constant noise. Only a handful of ponies with him, protecting a little warehouse filled with civilians and little hope of rescue. His spear was coated in a layer of green blood, dripping down the haft and soaking the white fur of his hooves.

They just kept buzzing around, constantly flying about with one lunging in for an attack when they thought that the defenders weren’t ready. The haphazard pile of barricades of tables from a café nearby and now piled up with the dead bodies of changelings, each cut and bleeding their foul liquid. It was hours before it was over, clutching that spear long after the blade had gone dull and his muscles shaking from strain.

He could still feel the cuts along his body, the scars long healed as he looked into the cold eyes of a changeling.

All that was put aside when he just thought of the constant noise, the buzzing, the yelling, the cries of pain. His need to defend what he held dear with nothing but what he had in his hooves. He could still remember the feel of a rock impacting against his helmet, making his head ring as he aimed his rifle at the vile changeling and pulling the lever to fire. The bang rang out as the bug fell to the ground.

But that wasn’t it. There weren’t firearms in the Wedding Invasion. The changelings never threw small rocks.

Stock came back to his senses, his eyes drawn down to the rifle in his hooves, the smoke trailing from the end of its barrel, and lastly to what it was pointed towards.

Just before him was a still figure, red liquid pooling beneath it as it lay prone. It was a bat pony, barely into their adulthood, a small sign down at the ground before them as it fell.

Stock looked back down to his rifle, still feeling the echo of the recoil against his chest. He looked around, at the other guards looking at him in shock, at the protesters feeling in fear at one of their own falling and lastly at the castle, where all he held dear was protected.

What had he done?

The Battle of Neighton

Mud.

It seemed to find its way all through one’s fur and cake in like nothing else. And when it was raining it just made sure every bit of loose dirt became more of the vile substance.

Honour Bound was slowly hocking mound of wet dirt after mound in a constant and never-ending routine that she had been for the past few hours like a few hundred of her fellow royal guards. They had been ordered to build some trenches. She knew it was about the small rebellion that had formed after the Canterlot Incident but not really what they were looking out for.

“I’m telling you; this is just a way for them to keep us busy and to increase military spending.” One of her squad mates stated, clutching a shovel in his own hooves, his equipment and armour off to the side to make it easier to dig.

“Can you just shut it with your conspiracy theories, I’m in enough pain digging for the past week to have my ears bleed from your constant rambling.” Hard Pass stated, grumbling to himself as he pushed another shovel-full of dirt into a heshen sack before another sealed it up and threw it lazily into a pile of others.

“You can’t deny that things are only supporting the industrialists and big wigs.” Cloven Hoof stated, continuing his ramblings.

“How? Factories are refusing to work and imports have slowed, it’s just causing issues with this whole rebellion.” Honour stated.

It was planned that a triple layered trench line would be dug along the eastern side of Neighton, a medium sized city between Canterlot and the coast. Almost three quarters of a million ponies called it home, the large group Honour was with all coming from there. So, when the mayor of the city was told to be ready in case of rebels deciding to cause some issues, he decided to build a trench line all around the city.

“Why do we even need to do this, its just a bunch of farmers with muskets. We have bolt actions and mounted automatics.” One young stallion stated, pointing towards a box that had said automatic machine gun along with the ammo and cleaning supplies.

Honour looked towards her issued Lavender Rifle over the edge of the half-dug trench she was in along with her saddle strap that held the ammo and other items given to her and her comrades.

“We wont even see these ‘farmers’, they don’t even exist, it’s a big excuse to increase military spending. I keep telling you guys.” Cloven said, earning a glare from the rest of the group.

“There are already enough issues on the boarder with the changelings, there’s enough guard spending there alone why waste more where it’s not needed?”

“Hey do you guys hear that?”

Honour paused, listening intently along with everyone else around her. At first nothing was out of the normal, gentle wind blowing and the distant sounds of nature, but after a few moments something unnatural came through. It was a gentle rumble and scraping metal, very faint and in the distance.

Looking out over the edge of the trench she couldn’t see anything out of the normal until Hard pointed towards the east. “Over there, what is it?”

Squinting all Honour could make out was the moving shapes far away. She wished she was a Pegasus with their good eyesight in moments like this.

“I think that might be some tanks?” Cloven said in a bit of confusion. “I though those guys were coming through tomorrow.”

“They should be, maybe were done packing up and set off early to the changelings.” One pony suggested.

Honour hopped out of the trench and over to the collection of gear from her squad, pulling a pair of binoculars from one of the kits, she could worry about who it was later.

Looking down and taking a moment or two to adjust the focus of the lenses to the distance. What she could see after taking a minute to process was what appeared to be a few dozen Equestrian Muletilda Class Light Tanks. Each one was a rolling box of steel, a rotating turret with a 2-pounder gun and a fixed machine gun. It was a marvel of Equestrian Engineering and it amazed Honour that the thing could even move with how heavy it was.

“Should we tell the captain or something?”

“Nah, one of the sentries would have done that before we saw them.”

“Have you ever been inside a tank?”

“My cousin is a tanker; he says they’re small and stuffy. Once said that the gunner let one rip and it lingered for hours.”

“So, no worse than you in the barracks”

“Fuck you dude.”

Honour was putting the binoculars down until she saw a quick movement from the tanks. Bringing them back up quickly she saw a plume of smoke come from one of the tanks. She barely had any time to understand what was happening before a loud whistle went over them, making everyone flinch before an explosion happened about a hundred feet behind their general position.

More plumes of smoke and more explosions of fire and dirt around the lone of the trench.

Everyone around, both working on the trench and otherwise all dove for cover, hiding in the shallow cut of the countryside. Their ears were ringing and dirt rained from above. No one knew what was happening, too afraid to look over the line at the tanks.

“What they fuck are they doing?! Why are they shooting?!”

“I don’t fucking know!”

All ducked down further when the sharp whistle of an explosive shell went just over their heads and exploded behind them and sending a wave of mud splattering over them as they hid. The large shells were soon joined by bursts of the mounted machine guns from the tanks. Ponies along the trench line started to shoot out themselves, the sound of bolt action rifles just lobbing lead in the general direction of the attacking tanks.

Honour didn’t have time to grab her rifle before she had gone for cover, still clutching the binoculars in her hoof as she huddled behind cover. Looking either side of herself at the guards in the trench with her, everyone covered in mud with some clutching their rifles while most only had their shovels at the ready since their equipment was piled up out of the trench line.

‘Come on Bound, think!’ The mare thought to herself looking around at something, anything she could do.

“Do we have any anti tank shit?”

“Squad five has it all!”

“Where are they?”

“Two clicks north, fucking useless right now.”

Taking a deep breath to calm herself Honour had to focus, taking stock of equipment and ponypower around her. There were small arms, a few boxed up mounted machine guns, a box of grenades, armour and a bunch of shovels. Grenades couldn’t take out a tank, there wasn’t enough explosive in them so they were out. The rifles were next to useless unless a 1 in 1,000,000 shot could be made through a viewport or someone stuck their head out so that was next to useless as well. Shovels would just scratch the paint.

Her mind did a 180 and went back to the grenades. They had only a small amount of boom in each one but what if they used the whole crate at once? That should make a big enough explosion to at least do a bit of damage. But there was the problem of a few dozen tanks and they only had one box for the squad.

Honour was pulled from her thinking by a smack on her side, looking over to see Cloven shoving a rifle at her, one in his other hoof. Taking the weapon, she looked at him in confusion for a moment before looking back down at the weapon. Pulling the bolt back half way she saw it was loaded, she assumed with the 5 shots, but with her gear being over the trench she couldn’t really reload it if she shot.

Taking a hesitant peek over the trench she saw the attacking tanks were approaching but at a much slower rate than before, seeming taking more time to aim with their weapons now. Ponies were lined up going down either side of the trench lines, some hiding in cover while others peeking over and taking a few pot shots down towards the armour.

Honour bound found herself suddenly thrown several feet to the right violently, her head filled with a painful ringing and mud splattering over her face and covering her eyes. Once she had stopped rolling through the slop of dirt she quickly tried to wipe her eyes, taking a minute to get it out since her own hooves were just as messy. The first thing she was greeted with was what could only be the chunk of a pony, the bright yellow fur matted with blood and muck, the raw red flesh and meat seeming to steam in the cold air.

The mare had to look away, but not being able to stop vomit from exiting her maw. She had to keep moving, she couldn’t just stay here and hope these tanks would go away on their own. Getting back up to her hooves she looked for her squad, she spotted their defensive unicorn, a young mare with a maroon coat and red hair. She was currently pressing her bloody hooves tightly onto the chest of an unmoving pony, blood everywhere from a MG shot that tore right through him.

Running over, Honour grabbed the unicorn by her shoulders, pulling her away. “He’s gone Misty, there’s nothing you can do!”

“N-No! We can still save him!” She begged, almost pleadingly to prove that she was right.

“He’s dead and there’s nothing we can do! We have to keep going or we’re all going to die!” She stated, yanking the crying mare from the dead body.

Misty looked defeated, holding her hooves before herself and seeing her normally clean coat matted with blood.

“I might have an idea but I need your help.”

“W-what can we even do? We weren’t trained to fight tanks!”

“I know! But we have to fight or we’ll all be dead!” Honour stated. “How far away can you keep a shield up and how strong?”

“W-what?” Misty asked, confused before trying to compose herself. “I’m only able to put one up around myself and a small area, and it would barely be able to take a shot from a cannon before it knocked me out.”

‘Crap, what the hell are we going to do?’ Honour thought to herself before Misty spoke again.

“B-But I do know a ‘Wall Flower’ spell…” She suggested. “It helped me go un-noticed through school… it makes you unremarkable and hard to focus on. It’s not invisibility but it would be more effective than just trying to take shots. We wont be able to use it to help everypony escape, they would notice too many ponies with the effects.”

“I’m not thinking of going back but to charge at them.” Honour said, getting a horrified look from the unicorn.

“What in Tartarus are you thinking?! You’ll get shredded before you even clear the trench line.”

“We have to try something! If I can even take out just one of those things it could save dozens of lives. I’m not just going to sit on my plot and wait for them to come here and crush us all.” Honour stated. “Cast the spell, I’m going over and if you want me to have any chance, you’ll do it.”

Taking a nervous gulp Misty Charged up her horn, a soft glow covering Honour before dissipating. “T-There, it only lasts a few minutes so you have to be quick….”

With a curt nod Honour took a deep breath and climbed over the trench line she had been spending days trying to dig and towards the crate of grenades. She expected at any moment a bullet would rip through her or get blown up but it never happened even as gunfire continued to a deafening degree. Throwing open the crate she saw the small round explosives, quickly grabbing 3 which was all she could carry without her belt or anything.

Turning towards the tanks she broke out in a gallop, waiting for a machine gun to aim at her and dispense her with a small burst but it never came. Her lungs burnt after not too long, the tanks seeming miles away and that she would never make it. While it barely took a minute it felt like hours to the mare, left gasping for air as she got close enough to the armour to see each rivet and weld.

The paint had been changed, where there was once a large sun to symbolise Equestria there was now a crescent moon hastily painted over it. These were the rebels and they had a lot more than muskets like Cloven suggested.

Taking hold of one of the grenades she bit onto the pin, yanking it out hard but still keeping a firm grip on the handle. She had to keep up with the slowly moving tank but eventually her eyes fell on one of the hoof holds along the sides that were meant to help the crew get on.

Awkwardly climbing up with a grenade in her grip she climbed on the tank, looking around for somewhere she could do the most damage. Seeing a hatch on top of the turret she climbed up further.

Trying to keep her balance she reached out and grabbed onto the handle on top before throwing the heavy metal open.

Inside from what she could see was a bat pony looking through a small periscope but as soon as the lid was opened he looked up right at honour. A look of confusion then fright came over him. There seemed a moment of hesitation on both sides before the thestrial reached down towards a pistol at his belt. Honour quickly threw the grenade down, handle popping off and quickly slammed the hatch shut again. She didn’t know what to do next she kept the hatched shut tight, putting her weight down on it. She felt somepony inside struggle to open it. It only took a couple of seconds but soon the grenade detonated.

The hatch pushed against her with a small amount of force as she heard almost a pop come from inside and the tank immediately swung to the left, throwing the mare off the top. Landing in the mud with a grunt she could only watch as the tank swung off and rammed into the side of another tank, causing it flip onto its side and itself stop.

Gasping for air that she didn’t realised she needed Honour ran over to the tank on its side, kept from righting itself from the first tank constantly ramming into it. Sprinting over she pulled the pin on the second grenade, heading back towards the same hatch on the second tank. Throwing it open she just threw it in without looking, forcing it shut again.

Once again she heard the same pop and with the last grenade she looked for another tank she might be able to take out. Seeing one not to far away she ran over, climbing up the side once more. But this time it seemed the crew knew something was coming and the hatch opened before she was even up on the turret, a bat pony popping out with a pistol in grip. Looking for a moment his eyes fell on Honour with the grenade in her grip. She barely had any time to realise what was happening before she heard a loud bang and a massive pain in her chest.

Falling back and off the tank she dropped her grenade, lost in the mud around her. She was left gasping for air, her hooves clutching at the pain. She looked down and found that she had a new hole in her torso, blood splurting out as she quickly tried to clutch the wound to keep the life giving fluid inside her. But as much as she tried she kept getting colder and colder, the sounds of the battle getting more dull.

Soon everything went black

Ambush at the Northen Pass

Nightshade normally loved the rain.

Sitting inside her home, a hot coco in her hooves and an overly fluffy blanket surrounding her like a cocoon. Maybe, if she wanted to treat herself, she would light the fire and toast herself.

But right now the only drink she had on hand that wasn’t the water with malaria tablets making them taste like crap, was the cold coffee she was given to keep her awake. And instead of her blanket that was fluffier than a gerbil, she now had probably the scratchiest thing she think could exist now draped over her. She was soaked through with rain, chilling her to the bone with the wind shear that was able to get into the muddy hole she was in.

She was cramped, cold and miserable. She wasn’t even able to light a fire to keep warm lest it give away her position.

She was a forward guard, stuck in a foxhole off the side of the road alone. She was given a fair amount of kit to take with her but if the enemy did attack she wouldn’t really be able to use it much before she was shot, stabbed or blown up. She had her standard bolt action rifle, currently leaning against the wall of her hole, a few grenades that she kept suspended out of the mud and water by having stabbed her knife into the dirt wall and hanging them off it. The last thing she was given was something she wouldn’t have really expected, an Anti-Armour Rifle.

It was huge, not even being able to fit in the hole without the somewhat more delicate internals from getting crap loads of mud in them. The bat couldn’t help but feel it was a bit overkill, since each bullet was over half an inch in thickness not to mention that she heard from the others that it kicked like a mule.

She was also given a crystal: a magic infused crystal. It was linked to an array at the FOB to act as a warning instead of shooting up a flare and giving away your position if there wasn’t a need for it or, in a much darker case, wouldn’t be able to escape back to base to give warning. All you needed to do was break it and it would cause its pair to shatter as well with a loud crash.

Looking down at her supplies she saw the small tin of shitty pumpkin ravioli. They tasted like the gunk in the treads of a boot shoved inside cardboard, not to mention the ‘sauce’ could be considered a war crime if it was supplied to POWs. And that was when it was hot. When cold it congealed into a jelly, a nasty slime.

But right now it was looking mighty appetising.

Reaching down to the mud covered tin, the bat pulled out the little metal tab taped to the side of the tin and slotted it into the slot on the top, slowly twisting it to peel the cap back.

The rain pouring down made things a bit worse, splashing down into the tin and causing Nightshade to hunch over in hopes of the water not ruining her dinner, although wasn’t the most successful. Grabbing her government issued fork she stabbed it into the nasty gunk before bringing it to her mouth.

It felt like eating mud, coating her mouth with its thick flavour, but at this moment anything to fill the cold hole in her stomach was good. At least on an upside, it was over seasoned with garlic so at least it helped cover up the otherwise unpleasant aspects.

Her mother tended to have a tendency to over season foods. Be it salt on potatoes or garlic in a pasta sauce. Nightshade used to get really annoyed when she couldn’t taste anything but the pick of the day when it came to ingredient, looking forward to a nice stir-fry or ratatouille but BOOM, nothing but pepper.

But right now, while sat in a cold muddy hole and rained down to the bone, she would give her wings to just be back at home with her family having dinner with them again. They weren’t the biggest fans of her volunteering for the rebellion, but all the ponies she knew in town were signing up, and since it was for the equal rights of thestrials, she kind of felt obligated since she was one.

But now, seeing the reality of the situation, with her being stuck in muddy trenches and holes while defending the wettest part of Equestria. No one wanted to attack through here. The roads were muddy and couldn’t support trucks and tanks were too heavy and would slip down the many slopes. And with the war going on pegisi stopped going up to manage the weather with the threat of a sniper taking a pot shot at them on either side.

Stabbing her fork again into the gelatinous mush, she gave herself another mouthful to munch down on. Looking up from her food and rumination she scanned over the brown and grey area she found her hole in.

A flash of colour down the road made her drop her meal, along with her only fork.

Quickly grabbing her rifle she scrambles to the edge of her foxhole, leaning on the edge and aiming down the dirt road.

The bat scanned over the area, keeping an eye out for whatever she just saw but wasn’t able to. All she could hear was her breathing and the rain ‘tinking’ off her steel helmet.

She was about to lower back down in her hole and salvage what she could from her meal until she saw another movement, and this time with her gun at the ready and looking for it, she was able to see what it was.

It was an earth pony in an olive green uniform, flat steel helmet atop their head. They were running between trees and bushes, rifle in their hooves as they looked around quickly and urgently. They were alone.

Nightshade quickly brought her shaky rifle to aim at the pony in the distance, hard to tell many details about them with the rain covering the world with a grey haze. Why were they here? Why were they alone in their territory? But it quickly came to her. If the rebellion had forward scouts to keep an eye out on their enemy, why wouldn’t they too?

Quickly reaching down into her hole she grabbed the crystal, the faintest of glows coming from it as she brought it down hard into the ground.

Swearing under her breath as all it did was imbed it into the mud she brought it back out before bringing it up to her helmet, crushing it with her hoof against it. As she felt the shards gently patter against the shoulder of her wet uniform, she aimed down her rifle again.

It took a moment to find the scout again, taking aim at him once more.

The rain had been drowned out, the only thing she could hear was the hammering in her ears. Ever so slowly, she pulled on the trigger lever under the gun…

‘BANG’

A tree a few feet to the side of the scout had a chunk of it spray splinters out.

It took a few moments for the scout to look at the tree, the rain covering up a lot of sounds but when they saw the bullet hole he quickly dove behind another tree, scrambling for cover.

Cursing out, the bat quickly grabs for the bolt, her mud covered hooves struggling to gain purchase. Racking it, she took aim at the tree the scout was hiding behind, trying to see if she could spot him trying to move or aim back.

It took what felt like hours but was only a few moments before she heard a bang herself, the but near her hole kicking up and splattering. She saw the briefest glimpses of a flash and she took aim at the bush it came from before snapping off another shot at it.

Quickly loading another bullet into the chamber she took aim at the same bush. She waited, seeing if there was any movement, any sign of retaliation but there wasn’t any.

Unsure of what to do, the bat hesitantly climbed out of her cover, slipping in the mud as she brought her rifle up again at the bush, moving at a snail’s pace as she got closer and closer.

Slowly, she got closer. Slowly she approached.

She finally saw the colour of the olive garb, and on reflex she shot at it, the weak grip on her rifle causing it to fly out of her hooves before clattering to the wed dirt road. Jumping back she was about to run back to her safe and wet hole but stopped, seeing as no movement came from the other pony.

Carefully she approached again, peering around the bush.

They were laid down, face down in the mud and unmoving. There was now a hole in their back, the uniform stained red from where her scared shot went. But the more she looked she also saw the helmet at the back of his head was peeled back, exposing the-

The bat quickly stumbled back, vomit escaping her maw as she retched. The parts of the pumpkin ravioli were quickly washed away with the rain, the bat refusing to look back at the bush. She stumbled back to her hole, falling in and shivering in disgust.

She knew she had to do it, he would have killed her otherwise. But she couldn’t get the sick feeling out of her stomach. Grabbing her canteen she pulled out the cork and poured some in her mouth. Swishing it about, she spat it to the side.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, her mind running a million miles a second. Who were they? What was his name? What family did he have? Who would never know what happened to their loved one?

Shaking her head, the bat slapped herself in the face a few times, trying to calm herself down.

But included in all these invasive thoughts, was one that quickly became more and more clear. Why was he alone?

Then it quickly dawned on her that he most likely wasn’t and that others would be coming.

She realised she dropped her rifle, and peering over the edge of her foxhole she couldn’t find it, now that it was covered in mud and rained on. What she did see was more movement down the road.

Quickly she grabbed the only other weapon she had on hand, the giant Boyes rifle.

Hefting it off its box, she put the bipod on the edge of the foxhole, aiming down the road. Grabbing a tin box she opened it up, pulling out the massive magazine inside before removing the cover off the top of the gun. Slapping in the ammunition and giving it a smack on top to make sure it was in there securely.

Racking the long bolt action back she fed a round into the chamber and took position.

Unlike all other guns she had used, this one had its sights along the side. She had her cheek rested on a wooden cheek rest, and while normally her left hoof would be holding the front of the gun, this one had a big handle underneath the stock you were meant to hold onto to keep the gun steady.

Aiming down once ready she saw the approaching solders a lot more clearly. There were quite a lot of them, walking either side of the road and a vehicle coming up behind with them. She couldn’t tell what it was.

Taking aim down the way at the closest pony on her side of the road she steadily pulled the lever back.

The kick that went to her shoulder was unlike something she’s felt before, knocking the wind from her lungs. It felt like someone had just bucked her right in the chest.

Quickly sliding the bolt she doesn’t even wait to see if her shot had any affect, just aiming at the next pony she saw before pulling the trigger again.

Another shot and another bruise to her shoulder, another hot case ejected out from under the gun and into the mud.

The approaching enemies knew they were being shot at now, quickly taking cover either side of the road as the vehicle continued to approach. It became clearer, a halftrack. The big boxy front was a dead giveaway, and so was the automatic gun on top opening fire down the road.

The bat ducked, hearing the crack of machinegun fire but she noted that it was going all over the place. They didn’t know her position yet.

Loading in another shot into the chamber she took aim at the halftrack, letting loose a shot at it. She saw the sparks shoot off it half a second later, the shot hitting squarely in the centre of the ‘window’. There was no glass though, the whole thing being metal with only small slits either side as the only form of sight out of the things.

Realising that all that shot would have done is scare the driver, since there wasn’t any seats in the middle, she quickly got ready with another shot. This time she took aim at the left vision slit, taking a second to steady herself before pulling the trigger again.

Sparks shoot off a few inches below the slit, but it kept coming.

Another shot, this time at the right, made the vehicle swerve, stopping after a few more feet.

Racking back she took aim towards the gunner now that the vehicle was closer and more visible, but it seemed that they had seen her too.

Bullets started smacking into the mud around her, the sound deafening. She tried to aim while keeping herself as low as possible while also trying to aim. Quickly she yanked on the trigger.

‘CLICK’

She quickly counted in her head.

“Fuck!” She cursed, quickly ducking back into her hole to grab another box, with another magazine.

Yanking out the old mag and throwing it to the side she quickly fumbled to put another one in. Once the gun was loaded again, and slide used, she took aim again. It was a lot easier to aim at the gunner now the vehicle was still, but it seemed the gunner was all too aware of this as well and kept a constant stream of lead on her.

She couldn’t find a moment to properly stick her head out and aim, the fire keeping her in her muddy cover as bullets stream around her. But all of a sudden, they stop.

Peering out from her hole, she vaguely saw the gunner fumbling with their gun. The bat took that moment to aim down her rifle again, letting loose a shot. All she could really see was the gunner flinch back but soon got back to what he was doing again.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself she carefully took aim, squinting. Slowly she pulled on the lever, the piece of metal slowly moving backwards until.

‘SNAP!’

Her sore shoulder was hit with another smash with a hammer, gun kicking like a mule. She could see the shot connect with its target. While all she could really see with the weather as bad as it was, was the gunner recoil back, with what looked like the right half of their chest recoiling in another direction before falling into the halftrack.

Now she was no longer hyper focused on the vehicle she quickly noted that the bullets impacting around her hadn’t stopped and the large number of flashes coming out from the woods either side of the road.

She could start to hear voices, but not make out what they were saying. They were getting closer.

Quickly she reached for one of the too grenades hanging from the hole wall, yanking it off. Since they were hung by the knife through the pins, all she really needed to do was to throw it.

Winding her arm back she quickly threw it as hard and far as she could into the forest. A few seconds later it detonated.

She heard the loud bang as the explosion ripped through trees, hearing the splintering wood followed by more shouts. Grabbing hold of the next grenade she threw it to the other side of the road, followed quickly by the same result.

The only thing she really had left was the knife and the massive and unwieldy rifle.

She took the gun up again and tried to aim down again, but she couldn’t see any ponies directly she just fired randomly into the bushes, not knowing if she ever hit anything.

Soon she was greeted by the dreaded click again. Reaching down again for another mag she found there wasn’t any, the only other boxes were the stripper clips for her regular rifle, the rifle no longer with her.

“Fuck fuck fuck…” Nightshade started to panic, quickly grabbing the knife and falling into her hole, clutching onto it for dear life as she tried to think of what to do.

She could try to run for it. But at this point they were too close and she would quickly shoot her down before she even made it half a dozen steps. She could wait for them to charge her position, but she knew they’d shoot her before she’d be able to spring out with her knife.

Her thinking came to a halt when something heavy thudded down into the mud near her.

She saw the glint of the metal ball just in front of her.

On instinct she quickly grabbed it and threw it in a random direction from her hole. Not even a second after it let her hoof did it explode.

She was quickly slammed backwards into the but, air knocked from her chest. Soon followed a burning, and looking down she soon found her uniform darken around the tiny holes peppering along it. Scrambling in panic she clutched at her chest, but there were too many.

Blood soaked into her hooves, quickly washed away with the rain and mud.

She could feel the pain shooting through her body but it felt so far away, a shock to her system.

She tried to scramble away, but where to? She’s in a hole. Muddy and alone.

The yells of the others got more and more distant, the bat’s head falling back.

Her eyes focused to the sky, the greys all blurring together.

She always loved the rain.