Chapters Prologue: The Calm Before The Storm
Author's Note
Heads up: for people who do know things about sailing and ships... I sadly do not know much about those things. Just thought I'd let you know, since the chapter has something to do with that.
Anyway, enjoy and feel free to tell me what I did right and what I did wrong in the comments!
Prologue: The Calm Before The Storm
"This will allow us to get weapons into Equestrian hooves. As many as possible, as soon as possible and as cheaply as possible."- Cloud Breeze, head of the War Production Board to Queen Nova regarding the Lend-Lease Act.
Until 6 months ago, Seaweed had never plied these waters. After all, the cruise ship he worked on only went over Seaquestria and to the outlying islands of Aris, maybe the odd trip to Tobuck or Colthage. Even when he was pressed into the merchant marine, his time was spent ferrying troops and supplies from Squarkwood to Askalion or Ain Trotgourait which took all of a day, maybe two under worse conditions. And back then, the only concern was the odd Wingbardian submarine or squadron of Chiropterran aircraft that slipped through. That was no longer the case.
The trip from Northpoint to Manebourne took just under two weeks alone and took them through the rough seas where the Middle and Celestial Oceans met. But the route was far from the Changelings, and well patrolled by the New Mareland Navy. This voyage, only a small part of their cargo was offloaded in New Mareland. That left their hull still stuffed to the gunwales with freight, mostly just preserved food, medical supplies and the like. Though stuffed down there somewhere were containers of 'war time freight.' That was the polite way to say guns and the ammo to use them. Every trip the Waterset had done the past six months had packed some firepower in it, though it wasn't even the tip of the iceberg of what rumors said was being sent to Equestria.
The real danger of the trip came with the second leg of the journey, the trip from Manebourne to Fillydelphia. It was shorter, at only a week, but was much more dangerous. The Changelings had warned Mount Aris that neutrality did not guarantee the safety of civilian crews when carrying weapons and ammunition. Reports abounded of ships sighting Changeling U-Boats but so far, the bugs hadn't made good on their promise. Didn't mean they couldn't though.
"Seagriff Swift, you're not slacking on watch, are you?"
The sharp voice of the ship officer roused Seaweed from his thoughts and caused his head to snap to attention
"No sir, just, eyes got a bit heavy. Been on watch for over ten hours now."
The officer looked at him with some sympathy. In order to pack as much cargo as possible, the Waterset was down to bare minimum crew. Just enough to operate it in acceptable order. That left long shifts of watch and work for everyone. The officer looked at their wristwatch before patting Seaweed on the shoulder.
"Go get some food sailor, I'll find someone to relieve you."
Seaweed gave a salute followed by an appreciative nod, before he swiftly walked past the Watch Officer. Crossing the deck was hectic as deckclaws ran around, preparing the ship to make port which it was expected to do either in a few hours or early the next day if the current weather continued. After making it through the flurry of work, he managed to make it down to the lower deck and into the galley, where the smell of food was irresistible. With such a hard schedule, the ship cooks had taken to just leaving food out to warm for the crew to eat whenever they had the time. Seaweed wasted no time grabbing his supper. He hadn't eaten since breakfast after all.
With a bowl of what seemed to be kelp and beef stew, he took a seat close to some fellow seagriffs who also seemed to have found time to eat. Conversation was scarce, with just a 'hello' from one of them. Seaweed didn't blame them a bit. If they were anything like him, they were tired, sore, homesick and more than a little scared. That was no combination to be talking about anything. Once they were out of dangerous waters, maybe the crew would be a bit more talkative.
He got a few bites into his stew, thinking of how it tasted far worse than the kelp stew his mom made back in Seaquestria, before he was thrown out of his seat but a sudden shudder of the ship followed by a rumble. The galley was thrown into chaos, as the other sailors and the cooks were thrown around, squawking and cursing. The half-warm food sitting in burners was tossed around, making a huge mess. Had they hit a large wave? Crashed into rocks? Collided with another ship?
"What the Hell just happened?" someone cried out as Seaweed struggled to get up, the ship continuing to shudder and creak loudly
Before anyone could reply, there was a tremendous BOOM that seemed to lift the entire floor along with everyone in the galley. Seaweed felt like gravity no longer applied to him, lifting off into the air as time seemed to slow. The ship's alarm began to blare now, a measure that mattered little to anyway suspended in air. Eventually, gravity returned and Seaweed hit the floor with a hard 'hmph' and a groan. He got off lucky however, as the sailor currently screaming while holding their very clearly broken army showed. Another one lay on the ground, completely still with blood pouring from their head. The hot taste of vomit reached the back of Seaweed's throat when he saw that, but it quickly subsided when he noticed the sailor was still breathing. The General Alarm bells rang, as the ships communication system crackled to life
"General Alarm!" the ship's Captain called, with a panic in her voice that didn't bode well "Crew, report to all stations for fire protection duties! Chief Engineer to Engine, now!"
Despite the shock, Seaweed's training kicked in and he slowly picked himself up, finding an unsteady balance as the ship continued to rock front to back. He saw that another dazed sailor lay on the floor near him.
"Come on!" he said, picking the sailor up, the two of them balancing on each other on the way towards the exit, others struggling behind them
The lower deck was in complete chaos, with some fighting to get up the stairs to the top deck, while others pushed past them to move deeper in the bowels of the ship. The floor was unsteady, and water seemed to have leaked in making it even harder to move. Once out of the galley, the sailor Seaweed had assisted, pushed away from him and began to make their way down to the lower decks, likely an engineer. Meanwhile, he had to make his way back to the top deck and join whatever damage control efforts were underway. He grabbed the rails of the stairs leading to the main deck just as another, smaller boom went off. Only now did he realize that those were explosions! This one almost caused him to fall again, but he clung on tight and hurried his way up behind a few others.
As he stepped out onto the top deck, he was horrified. The deck was scattered with pieces of twisted metal, some burning red. He couldn't ignore the few bodies either, taken out by the raining shrapnel. Despite the calm seas, the ship was rocking back and forth, as the front bowed into the water one moment and lifted into the air the next. Sailors were rushing around, confused and terrified but moving to organize damage control crews . Seaweed couldn't see what the damage was as it probably affected the lower decks more, but he stumbled out and made his way to the closest officer at a muster point, just like he was supposed to.
"Sir, what the Hell happened!" he questioned, catching the officers attention
"I don't know! But there's been multiple explosions on the cargo deck and Engine is fighting desperately to keep us going!"
"How far are we from the Equestrian coast! I don't think we're in good shape!" Seaweed said, gesturing to the rocking of the ship, which only seemed to get worse. The very metal under them seemed to groan louder and louder
"The Captain has ordered abandon ship yet! If you have your pearl shard, then get ready to go down to cargo deck and start closing off bulkheads before-"
The officer was cut off by another explosion, even louder than the one that had thrown the entire galley into the air. Seaweed watched as the entire bow of the ship seemed to just disappear in an instant, a massive chunk of steel just gone and replaced with open water and twisted wreckage. Anyone standing near it was also gone, and the heat reached all the way to amidship, where Seaweed stood, singeing his hair and burning his feathers. His ears popped and he became all but deaf minus the ringing in his ears, something he was grateful for as he watched bits of metal fly across the quickly tipping front deck and just completely destroy anyone in the way. He got lucky when the officer slumped forward onto him, having taken a piece of metal in the back the size of someone's head. As the ship finally made up its mind and lurched forward, Seaweed was propelled forward by gravity towards the gaping maw of the ocean, which roiled with greasy fire. He screamed as he scrambled away, managing to quickly grasp onto the railing. The ship stopped tipping, leaned forward at a 70 degree angle. But it was clear to him, it was sinking and fast.
His knuckles were white, gripping the railing and just trying to slide down. It was more an instinct than a real danger. Seawood was a Seapony first and foremost, but right now his brain just couldn't bring himself to let go. Looking both ways, or rather up and down as it were, he could see some just like him clinging to the railing or desperately holding onto something. The aft of the ship was completely in the air, the turbines still gently spinning in the open air. He could see a large hole blown in the side of the ship, right below the water line. Right in the aft cargo deck, not far from where a lot of the military gear was kept. In a strange moment of clarity, he realized there had been a chain reaction of ammunition explosions right until it reached the front fuel tanks.
He was brought back by the shrill alarm of 'abandon ship', which was the obvious conclusion for anyone still alive. He looked back at the sinking bow of the ship, the heat of the ignited fuel already hitting him. He couldn't cling here any longer, it was time to leave. With all of his strength, he hoisted himself over the railing and tried to throw himself as far from the ship as possible. Drowning wasn't a possibility, but getting dragged down with the ship certainly was. For the second time, time seemed to slow and he felt weightless, tumbling in the air as the water got closer and closer. He took a deep breath and reached a claw to the necklace around his neck that held his Shard. When his talon touched the little white pearl piece, it slowly transformed into a flipper and the rest of him transformed. By the time he hit the water, the sudden replacement of air by the ocean felt like a refreshing breath. Being in his preferred form was always a refreshing change of pace. If only it could have been under different circumstances.
He swam away from the ship quickly, quicker than he'd ever swam in his life. Away from the heat and away from the pull of the sinking ship. Once he was far away enough to feel safe, he turned back to see the ship in its full horrific glory. The fuel fire illuminated it against the backdrop of the night sky. Even from here, he could see a few figures still clinging desperately for life or throwing themselves overboard. If they hesitated this long, they either weren't comfortable with their Seapony form or had lost their shards. Either way, hesitating much longer could cost them their lives. He couldn't bear to watch and instead set about locating other survivors, praying that the bridge crew had sent out an SOS signal before abandoning ship. Otherwise, they'd have to swim for it and who knew how far off the coast they were.
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It didn't take long for the survivors to find each other, less than half of the forty strong crew, not including the Captain or First Mate in the end. Most of the Engineers and Machinists were also missing, probably below decks when the final explosion nailed the coffin shut for the Waterset. The group huddled together like a school of scared foals. Some of the more Hippogriffs orientated of the group refused to keep their heads below water for long, constantly popping up and down. Seaweed was more than content to stay in the water, feeling safe and protected in its grasp. His fellow Seaponies felt much the same, and much gripping was done about 'staying back in Seaquestria where it was safe' and 'not being worried about all the topside stuff', something that he couldn't help but agree with right now.
Eventually, one of the 'bobbers' stuck their head below water and called for everyone to look. A few decided to follow him, and Seaweed followed out of morbid curiosity. As expected, he witnessed the final end of the SS Waterset, the turbines finally dipping back into the water. Someone commented how quick it had gone down, placing a guess at only twenty minutes.
With the ship gone, the conversation turned to what to do now. Some suggested they go and try and save anyone still in the ship, though this idea was pretty quickly shot down as they lacked any tools or training that would help with that. Another suggestion came to try and swim for shore, but with a number of wounded and with so many tired and sore, that didn't seem like a good idea either. Finally, it was decided to just wait and see if help arrived.
Just as this terrible night had started, Seaweed ended up as part of the watch, while the others tried to get some rest. Despite the fact he hadn't slept in over half a day at this point, he was fully alert and kept a sharp eye out. He couldn't help but notice one of the others was even more alert than he was and very jumpy. Seemed to be muttering to themselves too. Concerned, Seaweed gently brushed them aside.
"Hey, what's gotten over you? You're jumping at every little tremble in the water and tail swish."
"Huh? J-just… I'm looking out for them ."
"Them? Who is 'them'?"
The seapony got a nervous look on his face, and looked around like someone was listening in and might not like what he had to say.
"T-The… The Changelings . I saw them. I mean, I saw their ship. I was on watch, on the starboard rear a-and… I swear I saw it. This big submarine, long as the ship and black as the ocean depths…"
Seaweed didn't really know how to react to that. It made all too much sense. This hadn't been some careless accident or some mistake of providence. They had been attacked! Torpedoed by a Changeling U-Boat
"By Tiamat.." Seaweed swore upon the realization "Look, I doubt they're still around or gonna do anything. Just… Just keep a look out for whoever can help us, ok?"
The jumpy sailor didn't look convinced but nodded all the same. The two of them resumed a silent watch of the night's rolling waves. Eventually the fuel burned itself all up and the spot where the Waterset went down was indistinguishable from the ocean at large. Eventually, Seaweed and the other Griff on watch were relieved, just as the sun began to peak over the eastern horizon. Seaweed dove beneath the waters and was asleep within seconds, his body and mind needing a rest after what had gone down
He was eventually awoken by commotion, with the other survivors hurriedly swimming around. In his half-asleep state, he almost forgot where he was and was confused to see his flippers flapping through the water. Then the memories of last came back and he bolted to the service to see what was happening. That's when he saw it, a distant shadow in the west. The unmistakable silhouette of a distant ship. It was miles away, but it was clearly there. And although he couldn't be suire, it seemed to be heading towards them. Along with the others, he whooped and cheered, throwing his flippers into the air and even gave a happy little swim! The excitement toned down when they all realized the ship was likely hours away, assuming it was even coming near them. Another discussion was held on whether to stay put or swim towards it. This time, Seaweed was all in favor of swimming for it and most agreed. Almost as one, the group of Seaponies began to swim desperately for the distant vessel.
Even with the ability to swim, well, like fish, it took a lot out of Seaponies to swim hard for long distances. They were just civilian merchant mariners, not Arisian Marines! Progress eventually had to come to an end when the group grew tired. Seaweed wanted to just keep pushing, but stayed with the group. Splitting up was the best way to get lost and die in the ocean, even if you could breath water. A few suggested flying instead of swimming, but that posed a similar problem. Not to mention, they had lost the exact bearing of the ship during their rushed swim.
Not all was lost however, as by the grade of the Gods themselves, the distant whine of an aircraft became audible. They all turned their eyes to the skies, trying to spot the plane. Seaweed was the first to notice it. A bi-plane flew close to the ground, bearing the unmistakable sun roundel of an Equestrian plane!
"There! There! It's an Equestrian Plane!" He shouted, gesturing into the air in the direction of the craft, which was getting closer to them
The group went wild again, splashing around and calling out towards the sky. Someone announced they'd been able to snatch a water-proof signal flare before the ship went down. Some urged them to use it now, but others said to wait until the plane was closer. Seaweed and the rest waited with baited breath as the plane got ever closer. Once it was so close, it seemed like they could reach out and touch it, someone yelled 'fire!' and a blue signal flare shot off into the sky. The plane didn't react for a moment, flying right past them. Some let out cries of defeat and anguish, until the plane circled and flew back over them. It did this two more times, before giving a little wing wave on its last pass and flying back west, full throttle ahead.
This time there were no cheers. Just grateful sighs. As long as they stayed here, they'd be safe. Eventually.
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That panic sparked an argument, bigger and worse than any other time. This time, those who wanted out of the water now, especially those unused to their Seapony form, demanded that they swim for it while the most experienced and comfortable said wait. It might have honestly come to blows, if someone hadn't offered to lead a prayer to the Gods, in order to give everyone strength in these trying times. Though a bit of a strange offer, it brought everyone back to order and let them think it through. And Seaweed was just glad it stopped a fight he really didn't wanna be a part of. Like everyone, he just wanted to go home before this continued any longer.
Joining flipper to flipper, the group formed a circle and bowed their heads. The one who offered this took right to it, speaking about thanks to the Gods for allowing them to live, thanks to An God of the Sky for giving their flight and their grace, thanks to Tiamat Goddess of the Sea for their Gills and their unparalleled swimming. And thanks to both for giving them the land of Aris and Sequestria, where they all hoped to return. With a final Amen from all, the group fell silent. Almost resigned to whatever came next.
To his own surprise, Seaweed opened his mouth and broke the somber silence by belting out the first verse of the national anthem of the United Kingdoms.
"Gods save our gracious Queen!"
There was a pause, before some continued with the next two verses
"Long live our noble Queen! Gods save the Queen!"
After that, the whole group broke out into the impromptu performance
"Happy and Glorious! Long To Reign Over Us! Gods Save the Queen! O please our Gods arise! Scatter her enemies! And make them fall! Confound their politics! And stop their dirty tricks! On her, our hopes are fixed! Gods save us all!"
They would have continued, had a fog horn not interrupted them, scaring the daylights out of them with how close it was. Looking up from their singing, a ship was quickly approaching them through the fog! It sounded its horn again, breaking the group from their stupor. Rescue was here!
They practically swam over each trying to reach the ship, which appeared to be an Equestrian coastal cutter, with some springing out of the water in their Hippogriff forms when they saw the flag of the Two Sisters flying from the mast. For their part, the Equestrian sailors were more than happy to pull the Arisians out of the water. Seaweed looked up at one, who held her hoof down with a sad smile. Just that look made it clear this wasn't the first time she'd done something like this. And whoever she'd pulled out last time, probably wasn't a Seapony.
As the mare pulled him up, he touched his pearl shard and transformed into a sopping wet Hippogriff instead, wrapping himself around the Equestrian, as did many of his comrades to their saviors. And to the credit of both the mare and her shipmates, they attempted to comfort the Hippogriffs best they could while still pulling more from the water.
"Hey hey, it's ok big guy relax you're alright." the sailor mare said, giving him a reassuring pat on the back
"How did you… find us in the fog?" he asked, getting a little choked up as everything that happened finally started to set in
"We weren't really sure where you were. Not until we heard you all singing. Now just relax, you're safe. You all are."
Seaweed couldn't help but smile and laugh. It felt good to hear those woods. To hear they'd be safe. At that moment, all he cared about was getting home. He'd never leave Sequestria again, not in a million years.
Chapter 1: First In The Fight
"Arisian Merchant Ship Targeted, Sank Off Equestrian Coast By Changeling Submarines!" "Diplomatic Ties With Vesalipolis Cut And Parliament In Emergency Session." Public Demands Retaliation For SS Waterset. Some Call For War. Queens Government Yet To Comment." "Protest Continue, Mobilization Of Navy And Marines Rumored. High Command Issues Statement of "Complete Readiness." "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
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.
—
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.
—
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.'
Chapter 2: Over Foreign Skies
Author's Note
If you thought not being a boat guy was bad, wait until you read me trying to be a plane guy!
Chapter 2: Over Foreign Skies
"At some point in every being's life, they turn to the skies and wonder what it would take to soar with the clouds, leave the bounds of the earth and touch the heavens. Some are lucky to simply flap their wings and achieve the forces of lift that would allow them to rise into the air, and some even control themselves enough to call it flying.
The Hippogriffs are amongst the treasured races to which the sky is not a mystery but a second home, and no one can compete with our grace and mastery of the air. Was it not us who shot down the Storm King's fleet of airships? Was it not us who proved to the world that the aircraft is the way of the future? And is it not us who have in our possession the most advanced and renowned air service on any known continent?"
Sea Breeze read that excerpt for what had to be the thousandth time. She even had it circled in red ink. How could she not love the words of her idol when they explained everything she'd ever felt? When in two paragraphs Crack Lighting had summed up the entire reason she sat in an uncomfortable bunk clearly made for ponies, in the stuffy heat of a barracks, thousands of miles away from home, wearing the uniform of another country. She wanted to fly, to escape the shackles of the land and conquer the skies in the name of Hippogriffia! But back home, they wouldn't let her do that. That's why she sat here, at RAF Marechester, impatiently waiting for a mission.
Luckily for her, something somewhere seemed to be reading her mind, and the door to the barracks was thrown open. Looking up, she could see another member of her flight approaching her bunk
"Hey, little-wing, get up and go. We're going out on patrol."
She frowned deeply as she set her book aside, "I thought I told you stop calling me that already Shell. Or should I say four-eyes?"
Her fellow pilot threw up his claws in mock surrender
"Easy, easy, don't mean nothing by it Breeze."
"Then stop saying it." she commanded, rolling out of her bunk and pushing past Shell, making for the door.
The pair of pilots moved quickly, moving around the large air base with practiced precision and speed. Breeze was excited to go up in the air again, if only for a patrol. She'd been here for almost three months, but had yet to shoot down a bug plane or even get a real shot at one. Every second spent in the skies was a chance for her to earn her glory! Her companion didn't seem very enthusiastic, looking nervous. Breeze wasn't surprised, Shell was always jumpy when out on patrol with just one other plane. He much preferred when the whole squadron went out on a flight. In all honesty, being saddled with him dragged Breeze's mood down a bit. Still, her and the bespectacled Griff did had a few things in common: they were both new to the No. 313 Fighter Squadron, they were both rookies compared to most pilots in the squadron and they'd both been rejected by the air force back home for "physical ailments debilitating to the job of a combat pilot." But here, those didn't matter. The Equestrians were so desperate for pilots that their standards had been cut far below those of the overly stringent ones back home.
They reached the hangar in which the 313 operated out of, where the ground crews were busy at work prepping and repairing planes. The two pilots made sure to stay out of the crews way as the ponies cleaned propellers and tinkered with engines. Breeze looked over the ponies as they worked away thinking that no matter what, the ground crews never seemed to slow down a second. Truth be told, she had no particular love or sympathy for the ponies unlike many of her comrades. She had joined the Aris Volunteer Flying Group for adventure, not moral grandstanding. The pair made their way to the far side of the hangar, where the pilots' lockers were located in order to grab what they needed before they went up. A couple other pilots stood around chatting, who they planned to ignore, but the group turned to look at the new arrivals.
"Hey hey hey! If it ain't our favorite rookies!" One of the pilots said, brushing past the other two and approaching Breeze and Shell, both of whom saluted.
"Flight Lieutenant Rapid! Good to see you sir!" Breeze said enthusiastically, happy to see the Lieutenant. He was one of the most experienced pilots in the entire squadron and in command of her flight. If Crack Lighting was her idol, then Flash Rapid was her mentor and had been for years.
"At ease you two." Rapid said with a dismissive wave of his claw "It's good to see both of you. But what brings you two out?"
"We're scheduled for a flight patrol, sir-" Shell explained, only to be cut off by Rapid
"What? Since when?"
"Squadron Commander Cloud told me sir, told me and Breeze to go out as wingponies."
The friendly smile that had been on the lieutenant's face just a moment ago had been replaced by a firm scowl as he shook his head.
"That sonofahbitch… No, you two can't go out. It's too dangerous for two rookies to go out together."
Breeze's face fell and without thinking she shook her head in return.
"No, sir, please, you have to let us go out."
"You two are fresh out of training, yet to see a real fight. They might be sending you out to your deaths, damn ponies!"
"Sir… Please. How will we ever learn if we don't go out? We've both been here for months and we've barely left the ground." Breeze pleaded, crossing her claws together
"S-She's right. We really haven't been doing much. Sir." Shell meekly added, unable to muster the same emotion Breeze could but still sounding pretty desperate.
The lieutenant seemed surprised at this kind of push back from the two, and turned to see if the other pilots he'd been speaking with might offer some support. However, they simply shrugged and their body language suggested that maybe the two had something of a point. His resolve was still to say no, until he turned back and looked straight into two pairs of pleading eyes. They were just young rookies looking to earn their wreaths of glory. He'd been like them once…
When Rapid let out that heavy sigh, Breeze knew they had won and she nearly ran for her locker before he could change his mind. But the lieutenant quickly spoke again
"But you aren't flying alone. Cloud can preen my feathers. You two get ready, I'm going to grab Stock and Edge and Marker and we're going out as a flight. With the front getting closer every day, probably better like that."
Breeze was a bit disappointed at this change. More planes in the air meant she might not be awarded the kill. But if that's what it took to go up, then she'd accept it. Plus, the relieved look on her winggriffs face made her feel a bit better about the deal.
"You got it sir." Breeze said with a quick nod before breaking for her locker. She opened it and swiftly threw on her flying jacket before grabbing her flight cap, survival kit, gloves, identification tags and a few other items. Then she pulled out all personal items and shoved them in the locker, including a little locket she'd been wearing and a sealed envelope containing a letter from her mom that she'd yet to read in her pocket. Once she had everything she needed, she slammed the locker shut and all but ran for her plane.
She found it waiting for her, looking as beautiful as ever. While Breeze didn't have much respect for ponies, she had to admit that they knew how to make a pretty plane. The Spitfire Mark V was a beautiful plane, with three broad propellers, an elliptical wing shape tipped at the end, an engine that could output almost 1600 horsepower at lower altitudes and had a supercharger for higher altitudes. It had an impressive armament to go along with its beautiful profile and noteworthy performance, with the variant given to the 313 having eight machine guns, four fitted in each wing. It wasn't the best plane available to the Equestrians, some other variants had better engines or were fitted with cannons, but it was a lot better than the Mark I's and II's the squadron had been fitted with initially.
After walked around the craft and performing the basic pre-flight checks of the exterior, she flapped her wings and landed on the wing of the plane, right in the center of the Squadrons emblem of a bald headed eagle, a well known symbol of the Arisian air force, with the letters "G.S" printed above it. She slid the canopy back and leaned over, checking her cockpit before sliding in and doing the interior checks. The sounds of a plane engine roaring to life caused her to grow a little jealous as she was still in the middle of checking her rudder pedals. She was tempted to rush through the checks so she can start taxiing sooner, but she erred against it. She was excited, not careless.
Once her checks were complete, she turned the ignition key and the plane came to life, the propellers spinning up and the engine purring. She followed behind another plane in her flight out of the hangar, the ground crews watching the planes crawl out from a safe distance. Once out of the hangar, Breeze and the others were taxied out to the run-way. As they lined up for take off, she closed her canopy and fitted her air mask on before snapping her googles on as well.
"Sparrow Flight, this is Flight Lead. Communications check." came the voice of Lieutenant Rapid through the microphone embedded in the breathing mask
"Flight Lead, this is Sparrow-5. Good communications check." Breeze responded, feeling a sense of pride at being first to respond
Once the rest of the flight had sounded off and permission for take off was confirmed from the Air Controllers, they began to take off one by one. Given her designation, Breeze was the second to last to take off. As she shot across the runway, watching the tarmac become a blur, she slowly pulled the stick back and watched the plane lifted off the ground. The blue sky and clouds soon dominated her vision. She was so happy to feel the weightlessness of flight that she almost failed to pull off in order to join the rest of her flight in formation for climbing to patrol altitude. Luckily, she quickly corrected herself and joined the others, Shell eventually pulling up to them off her right.
"Flight, adjust heading east. Settle in for a long day."
—
After a few very disappointing hours, it seemed that Pride's fears would go unfounded and that Breeze wouldn't be earning her glory today. It was frustrating for sure, but she tried not to show it over the radio. Inside her cockpit however, she was looking around constantly, being more vigilant than even her job normally called for. She shouldn't have been, but she was practically begging for some trouble. Just something that could be a start…
"Flight Lead, this is Sparrow-2. Running low on fuel here."
"This Sparrow-4, also low on fuel."
"Copy Sparrow-2, Sparrow-4. Flight, prepare to turn bearing west and head for home. Looks like it's quiet today."
Breeze sighed and turned to her right, looking into the cockpit of Shell. He looked almost as disappointed as she did, but there was at least a bit of happiness in his eyes. She on the other claw probably looked completely dejected. She certainly felt that way.
The formation prepared to turn around when Rapid suddenly spoke again
"Flight, belay that order. Adjust bearing south-west. I see something, 2 o'clock, around 17,000 feet. Might be Changelings. Buckle up."
Breeze's mood did a complete 180 at the sound of that. Combat! Against slow and low enemy Stukas by the sound of it. Hah! This would be easy! She began to adjust her gun sights, grinning as she pictured a Changeling plane in them!
During the slow climb down to the altitude where Rapid said he'd seen something, they hadn't seen anything to indicate enemies were in the area. A cloud cover was rolling in, making spotting anything even harder.. Everyone was alert, their heads on swivels trying to see if their targets were still in the area
"Anyone see anything?"
"Negative."
"Can't see shit."
"We have a cloud cover moving in. Won't be able to see anything through it."
"We could try and break under it."
"We'd be exposing ourselves to ground AA fire. Or getting pounced on any fighter escort."
"Flight, we'll pull under the cloud cover, minimum altitude of 16,000. We don't see anything then, we're going home."
As one, the flight pulled down on their sticks, losing sight of each other briefly as they passed through a thick cloud cover. However, the moment they pulled through, their target was finally in sight. Twelve dive bombers flew close together, in two V wedge formations. There weren't any fighter escorts in sight, meaning they were either cocky or the fighters were hidden somewhere. When she saw the, Breeze almost pulled the stick down right then and there, but held back. She'd get her chance, soon.
"I count twelve. All dive bombers."
"They're flying right towards our guys down there. We should wack em now."
"Hold on, where's their escort? We shouldn't go down there until we find em."
"Can it. It's our job to intercept assholes like this, that's what we're gonna do. Boom and zoom em. We'll see if any fighters come out of the woodwork for us once we do that. All planes, prepare to dive and engage. On me."
With that, Rapid's plane did a half roll and pulled down into a near vertical dive. The rest of the formation followed after him, performing the same maneuver. The Changelings didn't see it coming. One by one, the Spitfires buzzed them. Breeze watched as Rapid let loose a solid burst that caused the leading Stuka of one of the V's to burst into flames and start losing altitude. The rest after him landed a decent burst, though none so swiftly and clearly put a plane down. On her turn, Breeze lined up the leading plane of the other V. Her claw gripped the trigger and she pulled, firing off a short burst. It'd been jerky, and most of the rounds missed or hit the wing edges. She refused to let that be her first shots, and took a deep breath before pulling the trigger for a longer, more accurate burst. The Spitfires were so close to the Stukas, she could see bullets tear through the canopy and splatter the rear gunner's brain out. It wouldn't add to her being an ace, but she was more than happy with the results. In the rear view, she could see Shell target the plane to the leading Stukas left, getting a decent burst into it. The flight zoomed back into the air, regaining altitude on the surprised Changelings.
"I count one losing altitude rapidly, one flaggering."
"Looks like they're tucking tail and turning!"
"Anyone got eyes on hostile fighters?"
"Negative! Looks like they're ours sir!"
"Alright, time for a second pass. Flight order, follow after me."
The Stukas were slow and didn't turn well, especially when they had some bullet holes in them. The first three planes of the second pass were unmolested completely, scoring another two dive bombers spiraling rapidly towards the ground. By the fourth plane however, they had turned and were able to return fire with their rear gunners, green tracers filling the air. The fourth plane had to cut their pass early, after too much fire concentrated on them. Breeze though, she had no intention of pulling away until something was dead! She lined up one of the rear planes and let lead fly, riddling the plane with bullets all along the fuselage, causing liquid, probably fuel or even oil, to start pouring out. In return though, a few rounds tore through the wings of her plane. Nothing serious, but it'd lag performance.
Her and Shell failed to definitively bring down another plane, but the dive bombers were shot to Hell and were flying back the way they came.
"Alright Flight, that's enough. We got three confirmed kills and a victory under our belt."
"Sir, can't we just finish them off?"
"Not enough fuel for that Shell. We stay out any longer and we risk not being able to make it home."
As they began to make for home, something caught Breeze's eye. The plane she'd tagged in the first run, it was lagging behind the group, its airspeed heavily decreased but yet to stall. It almost certainly wouldn't make it home, but that wasn't good enough for her. She wanted to paint an iron cross on the side of her plane when they got back to Marechester.
"Flight Lead, this is Sparrow-5, permission to break off and engage the straggler."
"Permission denied Sparrow-5. Stay in formation."
"Sir, it's defenseless and probably won't make it back anyway. Let's just put them out of their misery."
There was a pause, before a deep sigh came over the headset
"Fine, make it quick Sparrow-5. Sparrow-6, break off and cover her."
"Copy."
Breeze broke off from the formation, with Shell following behind her at a slightly higher altitude. The poor Changeling was basically a sitting duck, her plane quickly approaching her prey and her talon sitting on the trigger. As soon as she was in range, she held down and watched with glee as her tracers flew from her guns and through the air. But even in her glee of scoring her first kill, her ears picked up the distinct sound of an engine, one that had a different whine than that of the Spitfire. She threw her head up and saw two 109 fighters barreling through the air at a quick dive down at her. They were probably scouts for a larger fighter group come to assist the dive bombers. So detached from her comrades, Breeze must have looked like an easy meal. As green and white tracers of Changeling machine guns and cannons began to fly towards her, she threw sticks down. Her plane rattled as the rear fuselage and tail were hit several times, but serious damage to the cockpit wings and engine were avoided. She looked behind her, to see the 109's zooming over her, breaking to turn around and get her. However, Shell swooped in from behind and got on their tails, letting burst of machine gun fire flying at both.
"Two enemy fighters! Breeze, you alright?" Shell shouted over the radio, snapping her back into reality
"I can still fly! Stay on their tails, gotta pull out of this dive!"
"Shit, you two just hold 'em off. We're coming!" Rapid informed them, a mixture of concern and annoyance in his tone. Breeze knew she'd be getting a tongue lashing after this. But that was the least of her concerns.
Just by how the plane took getting pulled out of its sudden dive, she knew her performance had been hit badly. Getting level again proved a bit difficult with the elevator now with a few holes in it, but these Spitfires were built tough and it wouldn't go down that easily. Looking around, she could see that, only being one plane, Shell hadn't been able to stick on both 109's. He was still chasing one, trying to push them off her and towards the rest of the flight. But the other fighter had pulled off right and was pulling around to get on Shell. Breeze couldn't let that happen and broke hard left, utilizing the turning speed of her plane to catch the 109 mid turn. Unfortunately, her burst didn't do any major damage and they zoomed past each other. Meanwhile, Shell's mark was being a wily bastard and had yet to take serious damage from him either. Gritting her beak, Breeze saw that her target had straightened out and pulled up hard, probably trying to loop around and attack her from above. She was going too fast to try and turn to catch him mid loop, but she might have enough time to help Shell.
Turning to see where they were, she saw that Shell and the Changeling had dropped down a few hundred feet, the bug desperately trying to shake his tail. Even with only a small height advantage, Breeze knew she had that 109. Ignoring the other fighter, she turned and came down on the tailed aircraft from its five o'clock, letting a good long burst fly. Not expecting her to ignore his partner, the Changeling didn't see it coming and was caught in the hail of gunfire. The 109's right wing tip fell off and it began a downward spiral. Breeze cheered as she watched her first confirmed dogfight kill go straight to Hell!
That was when the other one finished his loop, rolled upside down, and dove right down on her. A few bullets whistled through the canopy and more smashed into the middle fuselage. Looking at her instrument panel, Breeze could instantly tell that a coolant line was severed. But her craft was still controllable and airborne, meaning she was still in the fight. She watched the Changeling straighten himself out and start to climb to attack her plane from beneath, wondering if her first kill would be her last. But before she could react, Shell fell in behind the Changeling mid-climb and with a solid burst from his guns, the 109 exploded into a fireball of flame and wreckage.
"Hell yeah! Score one!" Breeze celebrated, the fear she felt for her life and her plane
"For both of us!" Shell added, sounding proud of himself
"You two have had your fun. Now let's get the Hell out of here." The harsh voice of Rapid said as the other four planes arrived on scene. What had felt like hours had truly only been minutes.
"Thank the Gods! Are you hurt?" He asked, frantically checking her
"No no! I'm fine!" She shouted, beating him off a bit
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
With that, he gave her a firm smack on the back of her head
"Ow!"
"Never ask me to finish off a straggler ever again and never pull what you pulled today." He commanded, his voice steely now
"Come on, all I did was what I was taught."
"Like Hell! You should of baited them in closer to us or stayed on that bug's tail. Not chased down a problem Shell had handled!"
"Come on! What would Dad say if he saw that!"
"Your father? He'd be just as furious at you as I am!"
The fire seemed to die in Rapids voice after saying that, and he stepped away from Breeze, sighing and shaking his head
"But then he'd realize you really are his daughter and probably pat you on the shoulder. I'm not him, so I'm not gonna do that. But I am going to order you to thank Shell for saving you tailfin, young mare."
Breeze rolled her eyes, and gave a mocking salute
"Yes uncle, sir."
"Oh don't get an attitude with me. Go, go on. Debrief'll be soon."
—
Following a lengthy, boring debrief, the pilots were allowed to go back about their business and even told to get a hot meal after their troubles. Earning five confirmed kills in one patrol was an impressive feat. As a group, they staggered down to the mess.
The real exhaustion, both mental and physical, didn't really kick in until hours after the adrenaline wore off and Breeze was feeling that pretty badly, having come the closest to dying and all. Despite walking right beside him and waiting in line for food with him, it wasn't until they sat down next to each other that she reached over to her wingpony, placing a claw on his shoulder and spoke.
"Hey. Four-eyes."
"Yeah little-wing?"
"I never told you thanks for saving my ass. Just wish you did it a little sooner."
"Take it as revenge for stealing my kill."
Breeze scoffed and Shell smirked. She punched him the arm, and shook her head
"I was going to offer to help you paint the kill on tomorrow, but you can forget it!"
"Hey, at least I have all of my plane to paint it on. You're gonna have to wait a week, at least!"
With a mutual nod, the two wingponies dug into their chow. Now they had another thing in common: they were up one kill. Now it was a quiet competition to see who could reach five first.
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. 