The Arisians Come

"Arisian Merchant Ship Targeted, Sank Off Equestrian Coast By Changeling Submarines!"
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"Diplomatic Ties With Vesalipolis Cut And Parliament In Emergency Session."
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"Public Demands Retaliation For SS Waterset. Some Call For War. Queens Government Yet To Comment."
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"Protest Continue, Mobilization Of Navy And Marines Rumored. High Command Issues Statement of "Complete Readiness."
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"Aris Once Again At War! Queen Novo Declares War On The Changeling Queendom With Support Of Parliament!"

-Various newspaper headlines, ranging from May 7th, 1012 to June 12th, 1012
—
'Always Loyal.' The official motto and creed of the Arisian Royal Marine Corps. Had been for hundreds of years ever since the official founding of the Marines. The oldest known organization of soldiers trained specifically for landing operations. They are the oldest branch of the modern Arisian Armed Forces, wearing that distinction with pride. The Marine Band plays at every function held at the Royal Palace. To be seen wearing the distinct marine blue and bright gold dress uniform is an honor ranked among the highest. Until the Air Force came along, the Marines had no challenge in the department of prestige and respect. Even outside of Aris, they are known for securing the beachheads that would lead to the famous Battle of Ain Trotgourait.

It only made sense that they would lead the 'Vanguard of Harmony' following the Queen Novos declaration of war on the Changelings. That fuse had long been burning and the sinking of the Waterset had just finally set it off. But in the lead up, the Arisians hadn't sat on their laurels. The Storm King had caught them off guard, the Chippos and the Colties had almost done the same. They wouldn't be played for fools again, no sir. By the end of May, just three weeks after the sinking of the Waterset, the 1st Marine Division was formed out of the most experienced units of the ARMC. The largest collective unit of Marines ever gathered into one combat unit. By the end of June, the Marines of the 1st Marine set sail from Howlington Military Wharf, bound for Equestria. Where? Even they didn't know.

And according to the paper that Whipper clutched in his talons, no one might have known where they were going either!

"Get a load of this!" he said to the crowd of Griffs gathered around him, clearing his throat and trying to put on a 'reporter voice', "Do to the ever presence risk of intelligence leaks or the weapons of terror at sea known as 'U-Boats', the route of the 1st Marine Divisions convoy has been of utmost secrecy in both Aris and Equestria. Indeed, if some reports are to be believed, the port of disembarkment has changed several times even as the first soldiers of Aris are in the middle of transit."

The small room, so packed and crowded it'd give a Fire Marshall a heart attack, burst into laughter at the last line. It was the uproarious laugh of soldiers all too used to the bullshit that came along with their profession. Already, they'd been at sea for over two weeks, seemingly meandering over the sea. Only the navigation crew, the officers of the ship and the Captain were allowed to know where the ship was going. They were sworn to utmost secrecy and rumor told that they were under threat of flogging for breaking that oath. The Marines had joked about going north at breakfast, south by lunch, west by dinner and east by lights out for a week already. This would only fuel the joking, at the expense of respect for the navy. Joking was just about the only thing to do, aside from life preservation drills given the fears of U-Boat attacks.

Whipper set the paper down on the rickety wooden table he sat at, only for someone in the throng of Griffs to snatch it up and pick up where he'd left off. He was fine with that, he'd skimmed through the rest of the paper earlier, before he became the entertainment of the hour. He had already scoffed at the opinion pieces of peaceniks relegated to the back pages and knew everything about the newest round of Harmony Bonds. With his paper lost, Whipper turned to his other source of entertainment: Smoking. In particular, a nice juicy Puerto Caballo cigar he'd won off an officer during a game of Appleloosan Hold 'Em the other night. He picked it up from the ashtray he'd set it down in and took a great puff of the fine tobacco, breathing it out into the already smoke filled room. A small luxury in times like this.

Luxury wouldn't be on the table for very long. These were the good days, before rationing and war-time laws could be brought back. No way a paper would've gotten away with writing that front page article otherwise. Soon it would all be rather dull reading material. Although personally, he couldn't wait to see what the Office of War Time could cook up in terms of posters. With any luck, they hadn't lost their touch between the North Zebrican War and this one. That thought got him to look around the room, at the many Hippogriffs hanging on to every word of whoever was reading. Smoking, smiling, talking, laughing, jostling each other around. If one didn't know better, you might think they were on a party barge.

These were soldiers, laughing through the uncertainty of danger. Veterans of Firstport, Askalion, Hippone and the Second Battle of Ain Trotgourait. Most of them anyway. The Corp had undergone a massive influx of recruits in order to field an entire division's worth, but the recruits were tempered by the veterans and disciplined by strict NCOs and Officers. NCOs just like him. Some of his old buddies liked to rib him about the fact he'd fought against the Storm King in 1005 and yet was still just enlisted. Most Griffs who were around during that time had earned bars and stars, but here Whipper was still with just his chevrons. He wouldn't have that any other way.

He remained caught up in his own thoughts for a bit, before shaking it off and getting back in the moment. Getting sentimental wasn't why he was here! He was here for adventure! And to kick ass! He was a member of the 'Old Breed', best of the best. Sitting down here was getting to him. Damned heat and smoke. He got up from his little table, all but reserved for NCOs like him, and pushed his way through the Marines and out of the room. Just as he stepped through the bulkhead, he fell into a coughing fit which forced him to double over and hold himself up on the wall. Here he was, only 25 and yet he still felt older than dirt every day he woke up. Wouldn't stop his habits though, as he took a long puff of his cigar once the fit was over. He pushed his way through the halls of the deck, heading for the stairs that'd lead to the top deck, when someone jumped out in front of him. He made to barrel right past them, thinking some idiot just hadn't seen him coming.

"Hey! Sarge!" a familiar voice said, causing him to stop and inspect who was in front of him. It was a Griff from his platoon. A new guy who he didn't know all too well, except they were always a bit of 'high roller'

"What is it Draw?" Whipper asked, a bit annoyed at being stopped in his tracks

"Hey, look, I know you're not big on wagers. And I know that some officers would probably say that they're 'unbecoming of proper Marines', but-"

"If you're trying to sell me on something, you're not doing a very good job, Private Draw."

"Just hear me out, ok?"

Whipper just gave a bored shrug, waving a claw to indicate to continue

"Everyones been bored as Hell, right? And all we've been talking about is 'where we gonna end up', right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I figured I'd start a wager in the company about where we'll get off at! Real simple! Just tell me where you think and how much you put in. If you're right, you get double. Already got a few guys in on it, including Captain Wood."

Whipper stroked his chin, thinking the offer through. It would be a fun little bet and it could be a little distraction. Everyone on the ship was antsy, his company was no different. Plus, he wouldn't mind an extra payday. After a moment, he nodded and reached for his wallet.

"Fifty Bits on Las Pegasus."

Draw looked surprised at the large bet, but happily wrote it down on a little notepad of paper, grinning and nodding rapidly

"Yours is the highest bet so far Sergeant. Must be real confident, huh?"

"I got sailing in my blood. I know where we're going, by the stars themselves."

"Right, right. Alright, well, I'll be sure to collect if you're wrong or pay out if you're right. Whenever we finally land."

"Of course. And don't try and screw no one Slick. Else I'll kick your ass, and the Captain will do the same. Got that?"

"Uh… Yes sir Sergeant Whippertail, I got that."

Whipper patted the Marine on the shoulder and gently pushed them aside, continuing on his way.

With that sorted, he took his leave in order to get some fresh air on the top deck. On deck, things were relatively peaceful. At least compared to the cramped, hot, smoke filled innards of the ship which were overloaded with Marines. It was so bad, that hot bunking was the only way they all got sleep. And even that wasn't enough, as Whipper stepped over more than a few sleeping Griffs laying curled up on deck, on his way to the railing. One found sleep whenever they could, so he couldn't blame them.

As he puffed down on the stubble of the fine cigar, he looked out across the water. This convoy was large, the bulk of the division. Ships of all shapes and sizes and origins were out on the water. Merchant ships, cruise ships, ocean liners and converted oil tankers like the one he was on. The Defense Department and Navy had moved quickly, pressing just about any ship into service they could find. Almost one hundred transport ships were carrying nearly 20,000 Griffs. Across two oceans at that. Whipper was no great thinker, strategist or logistician but in the choppy waters of wherever the Hell they were he couldn't help but be impressed by those numbers. And of course, the convoy was escorted by dozens of destroyers and cruisers. In every direction, the flag of Aris whipped in the wind. Declaring to the world that they were here to get shit done and save everyone's asses.

"Marines, solving everyones bullshit since..." he muttered, trailing off and finally snubbing the cigar out before throwing it overboard

For not the first time, he thought about how he should have been a Navy griff as the cigar hit the water.

—
It would be another week of sailing before the Marines finally got the good news: Their destination was Las Pegasus, the largest . When that tidbit of news trickled down to Whipper, he could only sigh in relief. He was happy to get off this damned ship and he'd be doing it with a much heavier wallet. But that was a problem for another day, because waiting until the last second to tell the Marines the big news left them only two days to prepare. And honestly the more Whipper learned about this disembarkment, the more he actually believed no one had their destination planned. The port was big but also home to the Equestrian Lunar Navy , meaning most of the harbor was already occupied and incredibly busy, giving a small time frame for transports to dock and for troops to be brought ashore. Just all that made it sound like a shitshow on paper, he could only imagine what the actual operation would look like. On the upside, his regiment would be among the first unloaded.

D-Day couldn't come soon enough. Clad in his full combat gear, though lacking ammunition, and with his (empty) M1 Rifle sitting snugly in the crook of his right foreleg, Whipper had managed to push and shove his way to the railing as his transport approached Las Pegasus harbor, the top deck almost completely full despite dawn barely breaking. Like many of his comrades, who stood around rather quiet and calm despite the buzz one might think this'd create, he couldn't help but stare in awe at the cloud city, the so-called 'Playground of Equestria.' A city of gambling, drinking, whoring and who knew what else. Mount Aris, his home town, might have reached high into the air just as high but to see one giant cloud holding up an entire city was just a different kind of impressive. Even the harbor, which they were swiftly approaching, was to be admired as the most impressive arrangements of warships Whipper had witnessed since the reclamation of Aris awaited them. The Equestrian Lunar Fleet was a beast, with battleships and carriers to rival those of the Hippogriffs. Seeing them when the Equestrians had such a meek reputation was… so strange.

The ship, along with the others who would be unloading troops today, weighed anchor just out of harbor so that ships could continue to come and go. For at least two hours, Whipper just watched these ships come and go. Dozens, if not hundreds in just that short time carrying who knew what to who knew where. He'd never seen a busier port, it put anything he'd seen before to shame.

Eventually, a small fleet of Equestrian tender ships sailed out to the transports, pulling alongside transports and boarding hundreds of troops onto them at a time. Whipper and everyone watched this go on, patiently waiting their turn as ships were emptied and brought ashore one by one. Thankfully, their turn eventually came and by mid-day after hours of waiting, Whipper was finally bound to hit Equestrian soil.

He ended up stuck crammed between hundreds of other bodies on the tender, making the final approach rather unpleasant. But even from his unenviable position, he could see and hear the crews of the Equestrian warships woop and cheer from the decks of their ships as the Arisians passed. In return, the Hippogriffs waved and shouted their thanks for the warm welcome back, trying to pull off at least a semi-professional appearance. This was a disembarkment, not a parade after all. Or so they all naive thought.

Once the tender reached the docks, Whipper and everyone else aboard could see the massive crowds of ponies on the dock, a corridor only kept open by a line of local and military police. The air was filled with an excited, cheerful buzzing like the one might hear at the Harmonizing Heights concert or a Flipperball match. Despite the hundreds of thousands of gleefully watching eyes, the Arisians ordered themselves quickly and quietly, their full sense of discipline coming out. Steely eyed and looking firm, they marched down the gangway. Whipper felt his talons and hooves hit the warm soil of Equestria.

Despite the fact that hundreds, probably thousands of Marines had already come ashore before them, Whipper's regimental column still received a massive cheer. An Equestrian band began to play the National Anthem of Aris. Ponies waved little Arisians flags. Flower petals and streamers and confetti filled the air, following down on the Marines who just had to shake them off. As the Marines marched along, following behind the column ahead of them, ponies broke through the barricade line and approached them. They tried to give the Marines bread, wine, sweets and flowers. Others simply walked beside them, and Whipper could see some foals trying to imitate the soldiers marching. That got him to almost crack a smile, before he remembered that sort of thing wasn't professional.

During their preparation time, they had been informed to treat the citizens of Equestria as they would citizens of Zumidia, Warzena or Tobuck: with proper politeness and an ever present sense of cool distance. With a war weary, half starved population who was just grateful to move on with their lives, that might have been doable. No zebra was ever noted for their socialness and open cheeriness after all. But the Equestrians, they were different. Whipper turned his head back and forth, catching multiple Griffs of his company accepting gifts and chatting with civilians. He turned and began to reprimand them one by one, either with a quick verbal command or a simple glare. They were Marines damn it!

But just as he turned his head to look straight ahead, he felt a warm sensation on his cheek. Turning his eyes, he saw a young pony mare who was smiling warmly, pull her face away from his cheek. By the Gods, he'd just been kissed! And he wasn't the only one by the looks of. He fought off the embarrassment and continued along like nothing had happened. It was all he could do to keep himself from blushing.

This kind of thing continued, as the Marines were paraded through the port, the industrial district and the main road. Even underneath the city was essentially a whole other city of workers and farmers, and every single one of them seemed to be out in force. Every press worker in the entire country seemed to be there, and the number of flashes felt almost blinding even in the middle of the day. And even Whipper couldn't help but turn in curiosity at the camera crews that followed them, clearly recording the march. He'd seen a few military film crews during the North Zebrica War, but the Equestrians prefered to get up close and personal, following the lead of the column and occasionally shoving the camera up to Marines faces. Whipper could only be grateful they didn't do that with him.

Eventually all the fanfare petered out and the Marines were free to break ranks and figure out what the fuck was happening. As Whipper peeled off to the side of the road with a load of other Griffs after they were ordered to break ranks and take a rest, he realized that the whole affair had been more tiring than any combat he'd even been in. As he sat down in a little roadside ditch, he realized what might just lift his spirits.
"Hey Slick, where's my money!"

—

Despite their arrival in Equestria as quickly as could be arranged, the 1st Marine Division would remain in reserve for a month, waiting weeks for the offloading of the complete unit along with its heavy gear and ammunition. They didn't know it, but their jump across the sea would serve as a crucial first step of learning for the Arisian military, which would soon organize the transportation of thousands of more Hippogriffs to Equestria. And while they were yet to see combat, the arrival of the famed Marines served as an inspiration for the Equestrian people who could finally see in action that they weren't alone. They were an especially large inspiration for the forces fighting along the Lunar Coast, who knew that they would one day be reinforced by the finest soldiers available to their newest allies.

But the Marines were far from the first Hippogriffs truly 'in the fight.'