Pony Tankers: Snow and Steel

Cream Soda was cold. Freezing cold, as a matter of fact. She was seated on a wooden crate outside the command tent of the Equestrian 2nd Armored Battalion after being rudely awoken from a nap in the front seat of her supply truck. The sun had just started to disappear behind the hills in the distance in front of her, casting the entire encampment and all its busy inhabitants in a fiery orange glow that filtered through the barren tree limbs all around them. Her crate was cold and damp, even after her best attempts to sweep all the snow off its surface, and she could already feel the icy cold water soaking into the thick wool of her winter uniform and her red fur beneath it. Were it not for the cold and the ever-present fear of how the war effort would go, Cream could almost say she liked the view presented to her.

She'd arrived at camp some two days ago, alongside a convoy of other trucks carrying vital supplies, and since then had spent most of her time trying to stay warm. In the far north of Equestria it was cold almost year-round, though there was at least some reprieve in the summer months. Right now, though, in the midst of a harsh winter, it was all a pony could do to keep themselves from getting frostbite. The infantry were coping well enough with their tents gathered around large fire pits, and she had already caught a few glimpses of the more privileged officers sneaking electric heaters into their tents. Until a few hours ago, Cream was fortunate enough to be able to use her truck's cabin heater for much the same purpose. Between that and games of poker with the other logistics ponies, her stay had almost been pleasant.

Speaking of heat, she felt the wisps of warmth reaching her from the command tent's open flaps as an enlisted pony stuck his head out. She looked over, doing her best to look a little less pathetic while she sat and shivered on her box, and their eyes met for a second before he spoke. He wore the same grey uniform jacket as almost everypony else at camp, though he had decided to forgo his heavy winter coat. Given the pair of space heaters Cream could see just from her limited point of view outside the tent, that made perfect sense. His hind hooves were protected from the frozen ground by a pair of brown boots that came up to his fetlocks, and the rest of the exposed fur up to his hocks was tightly wrapped up in a set of puttees. His front hooves were protected by a set of black socks to allow them some degree of grip, and he wore a wool cap with ear flaps in place of the usual steel helmet that was issued to the infantry ponies.

"Enlisted Cream Soda?" He asked, one eyebrow raised. Without waiting for her to respond, he beckoned her forward with a hoof and turned to disappear inside the tent flap once more. Cream Soda huffed, eyes crossing as she watched the cloud of hot air appear in front of her muzzle, and stood up on slightly stiff legs. She lacked most of the winter gear afforded to the average mudslogger, though she had at least managed to beg a winter jacket from the quartermaster a few hours after her arrival earlier in the week. Not wishing to keep the cranky officer who had requested her presence in the first place waiting, she crunched through the snow up to the front "door" of the tent and slipped inside.

Stepping into the air inside the tent hit her like opening a furnace, blasting her with hot, heavy air that sent a shiver running up her spine as her body struggled to adjust to the shock. She looked around from the entrance and simply admired the buzz of activity - tables were set up all around the tent for various purposes, whether that be holding maps, radio equipment, spare rations, personal equipment, or some combination of all of the above. Officers and aides alike trotted to and fro, speaking in hushed tones so as not to disturb the dozen other conversations going on at any given time. Cream Soda was bumped aside when a runner trotted into the tent behind her and nearly ran her over in their rush, though she knew better than to raise a fuss.

She didn't get to do much more standing around before the officer she was looking for spotted her. He was a tall unicorn with a stern frown seemingly permanently etched into his features. His snow-white fur made him stand out even among his similarly well-dressed peers, and his height allowed him to spot Cream Soda despite several other ponies standing between the two of them. He glared at her for a moment before calling out.

"Enlisted Cream Soda, over here. We haven't the time to waste," he ordered, and Cream was moving before he'd even finished speaking. She trotted up to the small folding table he occupied alone and glanced down at the mess of paperwork scattered across it. She could also see his name and rank indicated on his uniform, Major Silver Spirit. She snapped to attention a second late, bringing up her right forehoof for a salute and bumping her helmet. The cold steel and her already aching hoof did not agree with one another, and it was all she could do not to wince at the sudden sting running up the length of her foreleg.

"Cream Soda, reporting for duty, sir. I was told you wanted to speak with me, sir?" She asked, after Silver motioned for her to be at ease. She elected to leave out the part about how the major's aide had to violently shake her awake before delivering the summons. Silver seemed intrigued, if only for a fraction of a second, by Cream's noticeable Manehattan accent. It was a strong contrast to his posh Canterlotian one.

"Indeed I did. You are being reassigned to the second armored battalion," he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "You are trained as a driver, we need drivers. I have already gathered the appropriate paperwork for your new position, and..."

The major trailed off, his frown growing just the slightest bit more pronounced as a hint of disgust colored his voice. As if he could barely stomach what was about to come next.

"And, as part of your new role, you are also being promoted. You are hereby raised from the rank of enlisted soldier to corporal. Do you understand and accept your new responsibilities as a soldier of Her Majesty Celestia's army?" Silver Spirit's tone changed again, and he rattled off the last bit as if reading from a script. Cream Soda knew from experience that he was, having been given the same terms when she enlisted as a truck driver. The speech wasn't what gave her pause, though.

Frowning, Cream Soda cleared her throat before speaking in a more hushed voice than before, realizing she probably looked as afraid as she felt to be questioning the decision of an officer. "I... sir, if I may-"

"You may not. This decision has already been finalized, we are merely going through the courtesies now," the major interrupted, holding up a hoof and stopping Cream before she could even begin. She closed her mouth and did her best not to look too frustrated. "You have been assigned to the newly formed fourth reconnaissance regiment. Your crew is already waiting for you in the motor pool, so I suggest you hurry down and meet them. You're going to need time to learn the ins and outs of your new machine, no doubt, and time is a precious commodity."

Cream Soda merely nodded, choosing to stay quiet for now. At least that way she could hide the sudden feeling of dread that gripped her. The entire reason she'd enlisted in the logistics corps was so she could avoid being pressed into the infantry service and so she could stay as far out of harm's way as she could. Now, it looked like that clever plan of hers was going to be for nothing. Major Silver Spirit shoved a piece of paper her way alongside a set of rank tabs to add to her uniform. The paper was mostly covered by military jargon that she hadn't understood when she enlisted months ago and certainly didn't understand now.

Still, Cream knew better than to ask. She merely took the offered pen in her mouth and scribbled her name on the dotted line across the bottom, nudged the paper back to the major, and swiped up her new rank tabs.

)()()()()()()(

After finishing up her paperwork, Cream Soda's first stop was at the quartermaster's tent. The transition from the warm command tent to the freezing air and dim lighting of dusk was a painful one, but she managed well enough. Trudging through the snow was at least made easier thanks to the existing paths carved out by heavy hoof and vehicle traffic up and down the wide lanes between tents. She poked her head in and smiled at the mare behind the main desk, though she wilted slightly when the mare returned the look with a scowl. Cream Soda explained her reason for returning so soon and showed off her new papers, and that was enough to convince the quartermaster to dish out some new equipment. Cream turned in her helmet in exchange for a black hat that looked like somepony had tried to make an in-between for a beret and a flatcap. She also traded in her weapon, losing her standard-issue rifle in exchange for a sleek submachine gun. The quartermaster explained the weapon's designation and a few important details, but Cream missed most of them.

After also receiving a new backpack and bedroll, Cream Soda was finally outfitted with all the necessary equipment for her new job. She trudged out of the supply tent loaded down with gear, her new weapon bouncing against her side as it hung by its strap around her neck. It was lighter than her rifle, fortunately, though the long magazine sticking out the bottom made it somewhat awkward to fit around the rest of her gear. Her backpack also wasn't adjusted properly, and one strap being looser than the other left it hanging off-kilter. All of this would've made her walk through the cold even more miserable than before if she wasn't so focused on what her new rank and position meant for her.

On the one hoof, the extra pay a corporal got was going to be nice. On the other, climbing into a tank sounded like the worst thing since joining the army in the first place. She had heard stories about the rather grim fate of crews on the receiving end of enemy fire, and some of the survivors she'd seen made her wonder if they were really the lucky ones. Her mind continued to wander while her legs carried her forward, and her thoughts were turning back to home like they so often did just when she reached her destination.

The "motor pool" was really just a large area of flat ground near the edge of camp that was set aside for vehicles. She'd seen it on the way in, given that the main entrance road went right down the middle, though she and the rest of the supply train were ordered to park on the far side of camp. With the sun now fully disappearing behind the tree line, the camp was rapidly getting dark. Large spotlights at the corners of the motor pool did their best to illuminate the area, and they succeeded well enough to make it safely traversable, but that was about it. Rows of vehicles stood at attention on either side, and Cream Soda got a good look at them for the first time.

There were quite a few, apparently organized by type, though the ones that stood out the most were the ten boxy little tanks arrayed in two groups of five. One tank in each group sported an additional radio antenna, and she noticed that they lacked the protruding machine gun barrel in the front of the hull as all the others had. Big rivets marked where each armor plate had been attached to the frame, and every tank sported the same stubby little cannon in the front of the turret. The snow and dirt in the motor pool was packed down and marred by track marks, giving Cream the impression that these tanks had been parked rather recently.

She started to slowly walk forward, approaching the group of tanks on the left, and a glance around revealed that she was alone - or at least, it looked like she was alone. Most of the tanks seemed more or less brand new, but one she passed by stood out as having a few dings and scratches in the armor that looked to be the result of bullet impacts. On top of that, a quartet of black rings was painted on the cannon barrel, the meaning of those easy enough for her to guess. Right around the time Cream reached the end of the row of tanks, she stopped and turned around at the sound of snow crunching under another set of hooves. Her ear flicked, and her eyes darted left and right as she searched for a silhouette in the dimly lit motor pool.

When nopony revealed themselves, she let out a sigh. What was she getting worked up over? She was miles behind the front line, she knew, and she'd never heard so much as a peep about Crystal Empire spies infiltrating camps like this. Maybe, she thought, she was getting herself too worked up about her promotion. Really, moving from enlisted to corporal wasn't that big of a jump. It was just the bare minimum to say "You aren't at the bottom of the ladder", right? She leaned back against the front fender of the tank she happened to be standing beside and looked around, eyes gliding over the motionless silhouettes of the machines standing on the opposite side of the road. They almost seemed to be huddling together, parked so close as if they were just as cold as all the ponies out and about tonight.

Cream Soda's thoughts were beginning to wander yet again when a voice suddenly came from her left.

"You just hangin' around to hang around, or are you the driver we've been waitin' on?" A mare's gravelly voice drawled, seemingly coming from out of nowhere. Cream Soda nearly jumped out of her hide, coming off the tank she'd been leaning on and scrambling against the icy ground for a second to keep her balance. When she finally recovered a second later, Cream looked up and spotted the source of the voice.

Standing a few feet away from her, face partially illuminated by the glow of a burning cigarette, was another Earth pony mare with pale blue fur. The pins on her uniform and her beret indicated her rank, and if Cream remembered correctly (which in all honesty she probably didn't), she was looking at a second lieutenant. The mare was around average height and build, making her just a tiny bit taller than Cream Soda, and the look on her face would've been difficult to read even in ideal lighting. Cream Soda did the only thing she could think of and snapped to a salute, earning her an eye roll from the new mare.

"Corporal Cream Soda, reporting for duty, si- er, ma'am!" She barked, wincing at the near-slip she'd made when addressing her superior. "As of tonight, I'm assigned to your unit as a driver. So... here I am?"

"At ease, corporal. Second Lieutenant Flax Seed, pleased to meet'cha," she said, her southern Equestrian drawl contrasting with Cream Soda's Manehattanite accent in an entirely new way compared to the stuffy voice of the Major back in the command tent. Flax Seed somehow managed to speak unimpeded around the cigarette in her mouth, working the thing over to one corner and letting it bob up and down with every sound. The glowing red tip distracted Cream, her eyes flicking over to it while her new commanding officer addressed her. "The rest of the crew showed up earlier today, you're our last addition. Was wonderin' if they were gonna send me a driver after all or if I was gonna hafta go 'n' scrounge one up for myself - glad they did the scroungin' for me."

As if on cue, another face appeared around the corner of the tank the two mares were standing beside. The new arrival's dark green fur looked almost black in the dim lighting, her head nothing more than a barely discernible silhouette against the wall of snow a few meters behind it shrouded in darkness. Flax Seed glanced back at the sound of more hooves crunching on snow, then promptly refocused on Cream Soda when she saw who it was. After finishing off her cigarette with one long drag, Flax spat out the stub into the snow and extinguished it with a little stomp and twist of her right forehoof. The new mare stepped up beside Flax Seed but remained silent, and it was then that Cream Soda spotted the black eyepatch covering her left eye.

"This here's our loader, Sage. She ain't much of a talker," Flax introduced, waving at the green mare with a hoof. Cream Soda nodded, slowly relaxing now that the conversation had taken a more casual tone. "She 'n' I've been in the tanks a good while. Served with the fifth armored for a while, but we got shuffled out to this frozen hellhole about, what, a month ago?" Looking to Sage for an answer, Flax raised one eyebrow and leaned over to brace her weight on the fender running the length of the side of the nearest tank.

"Aye," Sage murmured, a highland accent coming through in her soft voice. "About that long, give or take; I dinnae remember the exact days. Not the first time we've been moved around."

Cream Soda waited for Sage to continue, but after a few seconds of silence, it became apparent that she wasn't going to. Cream glanced around, her eyes eventually settling on the machine beside her, and a detail stood out to her. If she was the driver, and she was talking to the commander and the loader, then who occupied the fourth seat? Of course, she was only guessing there would be a fourth seat based on the number of viewports cut into the front hull of the machine. Still, it couldn't hurt to ask.

"We got a fourth yet?" She asked, jerking her head at the tank in case it wasn't clear what she was referring to. The question made Flax Seed roll her eyes again, though Sage didn't visibly react. "Guessing that's a no?"

"Naw, we got one. She's a real piece'a work, though. Unicorn. Used to be a captain b'fore she got busted all the way down to the bottom of the ladder. Ain't managed to find out why, but she's real bitter about it, spends most of her time sulkin' around and bein' mad at everypony." Flax's tone of voice made it quite clear that she didn't hold this mare in high regard, even if her words hadn't already made that obvious.

"Aye," Sage added, in almost exactly the same quiet voice as before, "haven't seen 'er smile since I met her a day or so ago. Still has her officer's hat and everythin', even if she's not allowed to wear the bleedin' thing anymore."

"Sounds like a ray of sunshine," Cream surmised. "Could they really not find somepony more suited to... whatever she does?"

"Probably," Flax responded, "but not on such short notice. Radio ponies are spread thin as it is. Ain't got time to go pokin' around for one ta steal from another unit when we got one right here that can 'redeem herself'. You'll be rubbin' elbows with her in the hull." Flax raised a forehoof and patted the side of the tank, a little grin playing at the corners of her mouth. Cream got the implication, realizing how small this particular vehicle was for something that was supposed to carry four ponies. Before Cream could ask any more questions, Sage addressed her directly for the first time.

"You been in the tanks very long? Ye look greener than I do," she said, squinting with her one uncovered eye as if sizing Cream up. The little pun made Flax snicker, but she did a good job of keeping it under control. Cream stood up straight, mouth opening halfway before she closed it again and considered her answer. She didn't want to look like a newbie in front of two mares who were obviously veterans, but she also knew they were likely to see through whatever flimsy story she could make up.

"Me?" She asked, raising a hoof to her chest, before realizing what she'd just said and pressing on before she could be questioned. "Not very long. I just left basic training a couple of weeks ago, so this is my first real assignment. I was actually down here to get familiar with my new machine." There you go, Cream. A halfway believable lie, she thought. Judging by the looks on Flax and Sage's faces, they were strongly considering buying it.

"Well then, glad you're thinkin' ahead," Flax said, a dangerous edge in her pseudo-praising tone. Maybe she didn't buy it after all. "Just keep in mind - this here's my machine. You just get to drive it, and you'll be drivin' it exactly how I tell ya to. We clear?"

Cream Soda gulped. "Y-Yes ma'am. Understood, ma'am. Uh... do you mind if I climb inside, ma'am?"

"Go on ahead," Flax said, the dangerous look disappearing in favor of a satisfied little grin. "Climb on up and open the hatch on the hull, just be careful - she's real slick."

With Flax Seed's blessing, Cream Soda turned and hooked a forehoof through one of the large handles bolted onto the exterior of the machine. It was a squat little thing, easy to climb, though the lack of any steps to clear the large roadwheels made it a little awkward. After almost slipping and falling to certain death on the flat top of the vehicle, Cream crouched down and worked at the two-piece hatch on the left side of the hull until she hefted it up and open. It folded neatly over itself and hung over the front of the hull, revealing the pitch-black interior of the tank. The sound of hooves on metal alerted her to Flax Seed climbing up to open the turret hatch and climb in there, and a glance aside revealed Sage clambering up to sit on the back of the engine deck to keep her hooves out of the snow.

Cream twisted to lower herself into the tank rump first after shrugging off her saddlebags and gun, going down farther than she expected before her hind hooves met the fabric of a seat. Dropping fully inside, her entire field of view was shrouded in darkness save for the tiny bit of light that managed to stream in through the rectangular viewport. Squinting and feeling around in the darkness, Cream's forehooves eventually found a piece of equipment. In front of her was the hull machine gun, pointed skyward, and to her left was a radio set. After another moment or two of feeling around, she realized two things. The first was that she'd found the radio operator's position. The other was that her actual seat didn't have a hatch to escape through in the event that she had to leave the vehicle in a hurry.

That understanding came with a fresh wave of dread about her new job, but Cream did her best to ignore it. She was in for the long run now, and no amount of whining about a less than ideal (for her) vehicle layout would sway Silver Spirit or anypony else to reassign her. Cream had just begun feeling around in the dark again when a light abruptly switched on behind her, momentarily blinding her until her eyes adjusted. When they did, she turned to look over her shoulder and saw the ends of Flax Seed's hind legs dangling down from her seat up in the turret. Flax had switched on a lightbulb, bathing the tank's white interior in dim orange-yellow light. Cream smiled, clambering out of her current seat and over a large bulge in the floor to the seat on the right.

Upon closer inspection, that bulge was the transmission. A lever stuck out and leaned over to be reachable from her new spot, mingling with a few other levers and pedals. It was nothing like any vehicle she'd ever sat in, and certainly nothing like the truck she'd gotten so accustomed to driving. She stared at all the various gauges and was relieved to find at least a few familiar faces - tachometer, fuel gauge, speedometer, engine temperature, and a few others. A small switch on the side of her instrument panel was labeled as "lights", and Cream reached forward and flipped it under the assumption that it would light up the panel itself. When a bright white beam of light suddenly appeared in front of the tank, visible through her front viewport and illuminating the machine across the road, she quickly switched it back off.

"Whoops! Wrong switch," Cream mumbled, and though she couldn't see it, she could feel Flax Seed rolling her eyes again. Continuing her exploration, Cream was able to deduce the purpose of a few more things. The two levers on either side of her seat were probably for the tracks, and the pedals were at least easy enough to figure out as gas, breaks, and clutch. There were a few other buttons that were frustratingly unlabeled, but they were on a separate panel on her right. Maybe those were less important? Surely that was the case, or else they'd be labeled too, right? Regardless, she couldn't risk asking so soon after assuring her new commander that she knew what she was doing. Cream sighed, wiggling in her seat to try and get more comfortable, and did her best to avoid touching any bare metal with exposed fur.

Despite being protected from the wind, the metal box she was sitting inside of felt more like a freezer than a shelter. Flax Seed ruffled some papers up above, but remained quiet otherwise. After a long pause, Cream leaned back in her chair and looked up at her with a little grin.

"Say... you wouldn't mind if I took this machine for a little test drive, right? Get acquainted with it?"