It's Just A Shot Away

15:57 - 05/10/1014 - Hoovesplain, New Mareland

Packed shoulder to shoulder with other soldiers in the back of a truck, the Crusaders were on their way to war.

So far they’d been taken by train, by ship, and by truck depending on whatever that specific leg of the journey required to bring them from the training grounds in Equestria’s heartland to the frontlines in southern Griffonia.

Everyone in the truck was a tanker, either trained to fight in a tank crew like the Crusaders themselves or in a maintenance role. Appropriately everyone was wearing tanker’s coveralls, some with padded tanker’s helmets. Everyone’s mane had either been cut short or tied back into a tight bun or ponytail, without regard to gender. With the exception of a few thestrals, everyone had a pair of night vision goggles either resting on their forehead or hanging around their neck. The oldest amongst them couldn’t have been a night over twenty-five.

The oldest pony in question, an earth pony mare with a shaven head, whipped out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She put one in her mouth, but before she went to light it, she held the pack out in front of her. “Anyone want one?” she offered, having to raise her voice to speak over the engine.

A few other ponies reached out with their hooves, taking the older mare’s offer. A unicorn simply levitated one into their mouth and lit it with magic. Apple Bloom didn’t take one, nor did any of the other Crusaders. Apple Bloom had never smoked in her life and sure didn’t want to start tonight. The rancid smell that lingered around Applejack and Rarity when those two shared a cigarette was enough to dissuade her. And now they had to deal with that on top of everything else for the next few minutes.

As tobacco burned, it mixed with the already pungent stench of gasoline and rust. The engine growled and rattled every moment of the journey, filling their ears with noise and shaking the floor beneath. The main source of light was a dim lamp that only illuminated itself. At any given moment the little flickers of flame from the cigarettes were the brightest thing in sight.

Apple Bloom didn’t want to be here at all, and she made no secret of it. But it wasn’t like she had much of a choice when the conscription letter came in the mail. Somewhat fortunately, her friends were more than willing to enlist alongside her so she wouldn’t have to face the war alone. And of course, Scootaloo had been itching to go since she was a teenager. It had been a headache to get them assigned to the same unit, let alone the same tank. But Scootaloo had the Captain Rainbow Dash on her side, and Dash was more than happy to nudge the right ponies behind the scenes to make it happen.

At the present moment, Scootaloo’s feathers brushed up against Apple Bloom’s right side as Sweetie Belle pressed against her left, with Babs faring no better space-wise directly across from her. Every bump, pothole, or crater that the truck drove over jostled the packed ponies against one another, with one of them dropping something every so often. As uncomfortable as it was, being amongst friends made the experience all the more bearable for Apple Bloom. Better the Lunatics you knew than the ones you didn’t.

Yet there was still no shortage of complaints to be made. Apple Bloom pushed a heavy breath out, loudly but still obscured by the noises of the truck. “They got some real nerve to be sendin’ ponies into Wingbardy,” she grumbled.

Scootaloo leaned forward, turning her head to face Apple Bloom whilst furrowing her brow. “Why wouldn’t we be going into Wingbardy? They attacked New Mareland.”

Apple Bloom’s eyes met Scootaloo’s.“That don’t mean we should be sent to attack them.”

“Seriously?” said Scootaloo. “So, what, we should just give New Mareland up to Beakolini? Let this evil murderous dictator steal another country?”

“Course not.” Apple Bloom folded her forelegs. “If I were here to defend New Mareland and that was it, sure thing. I wouldn’t be smiling, but I get it right? Helpin’ out our fellow ponies. Makes sense.”

“And, we’re bringing the fight to the assholes who started it! So they can’t attack anyone again! That’s the point!” Scootaloo insisted, giving a little wave of her hooves to punctuate each word.

“Is that the point, though?”

Scootaloo deadpanned. “Yes. It is.”

“How’d you know that?” Apple Bloom continued. Scootaloo didn’t reply, so she thought to press the point. “Who’re they gonna put in charge of Wingbardy after the fascists are out? How do we know they ain’t just here to take it for themselves? Y’all know what the ponies runnin’ New Mareland are like, dontcha? This is the Shadowbolt Society we’re talkin’ about! All they care about is makin’ money!”

Scootaloo’s first response was a groan. “Apple Bloom, you’ve been whining about it the whole way here. How many times has somepony gotta tell you? Beakolini’s a bad guy. We’re here to bring him down. That’s a good thing.”

“I know, he’s a monster, I’m not arguing that he ain’t, but-”

“No ‘but’s, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo cut her off.

“Well is Nightmare Moon any better?”

Everyone in the truck raised their heads. A moment earlier the other passengers weren’t paying attention. Now every pair of eyes was squarely on Apple Bloom. Most of the onlookers were nothing more than shocked. But a few, including every thestral onboard, looked at her like she’d just committed a murder. None of the frequent bumps in the road could snap the sudden tension.

She could feel the pressure of their eyes, and she hadn’t been raised to back down from her principles. “Well, is she?” Apple Bloom insisted, giving a defiant shrug. “How about the ponies runnin’ New Mareland, hm? Those no-good, money grubbin’-”

Apple Bloom felt a nudge on her left, distracting her train of thought. “Apple Bloom,” Sweetie Belle whispered, getting Bloom’s attention. “Not here. Not now.”

“Then when?” Bloom blurted out. “Somepony’s gotta speak the truth! And if we’re being sent to kill or die? I can’t think of a better time to be- ah!”

The truck lurched to a sudden halt, jolting every crusader and passenger against one another and eliciting grunts and yelps all around. Really, it was a miracle nobody fell over.

Just as balance was restored, right before someone would’ve asked what had happened, the tailgate was flung open. Outside, a stocky earth pony stallion in loose-fitting fatigues and a wide-brimmed hat leaned in. “Everypony out!” he shouted, voice laden with a heavy New Marelander accent.

A moment of confused hesitation passed, but they all filled out. Finally, Apple Bloom felt like she could move her legs in more than two directions.

Once outside, Apple Bloom couldn’t see much more than a few vague lights blinking in and out of sight in the near-distance, but the smell hit her like a falling anvil. Burning. Burning wood, burning fluid, burning rubber. She was oddly familiar with it, reminding her of the first time Applejack let her grill during a cookout. Used too much lighter fluid, burned the food, left enough filthy residue and a rancid smell that they couldn’t get out of the grill. At least she learned she wouldn’t be getting a cutie mark in outdoor cooking.

“Goggles on, you lot,” the stallion commanded. “Have a squiz.”

From what she could see, a few of the thestrals in their ground were already wincing. Then she fixed on her own night-vision goggles. Immediately, she saw why she’d been stopped there, and staggered. All thoughts of home were gone.

“I don’t expect any o’ya to get t’know me,” the stallion said, his face bearing night vision goggles and a stoic expression. “But I bloody well hope you get t’know Canterpoint.”

By his side, a battered sign reading ‘Welcome to Canterpoint’. Behind him, devastation. Buildings reduced to charred and hollowed out skeletal husks loomed above silent streets, no doubt once lively and full of joy. Debris clogged the pavements. On the street through the village lay the smashed remains of vehicles, machines, and even a pram. All throughout the village both soldiers and civilian workers were wrapping up bodies in bloody sheets and carrying them away. Even with the distance the mixed stench of rotting corpses and burned wood, like it were physically assaulting her.

“Fashcons are on the run but some of ‘em made a stop here. Few hours ago we caught up, chased ‘em out. But what did the fashbirds do before they legged it? Killed absolutely fuckin’ everyone in the village and burned as much as they could.”

A few in their group took a few tentative steps forwards, eyes going up and around the ruin.

“By all means, take a closer look,” the stallion said. “If it’d help you remember.”

Moving along with the others, Apple Bloom stepped forwards. Her eyes were up, as were her ears. There wasn’t a building in the whole village that hadn’t been hollowed out by flame. It seized her attention like a bear trap. So much so that she didn’t take much notice of the wet squelch as she set her hoof down. Then she nearly tripped on something at her hooves. She looked down, and was greeted by a dead pegasus whose face had been blown off.

“Augh!” Apple Bloom wailed, staggering back. Her stomach churned. Her staggers brought her back and through the source of the wet hoofsteps. A putrid puddle of dirt and blood collected at the severance point, the gory collection of fluids then staining her hoof. She brought her hooves up and shook them frantically, hoping it would cast the grime off of her hooves.

“Watch your step, they’re still clearing up.” The stallion turned away from the group, gesturing towards the wrecked buildings. “Every last home and business looted of anything valuable. Mares and stallions herded into houses and burned alive. Others raped and shot in the neck. Unicorns, thestrals, and pegasi had their horns or wings cut off their bodies. Anyone who tried to run away shot in the legs and dragged back to be beaten. Some carried up into the air and dropped to their deaths. Even the foals, the fucking foals.” A slight shudder was in his voice as they uttered the last sentence.

One of the ponies in their group staggered back, gagging and retching with a hoof up to their mouth. Before anyone even turned their head to look, they’d puked their whole stomach up. A pony next to them rushed to their aid. Another came to add to the pile. If Apple Bloom remembered right, these ponies were just mechanics, not frontline soldiers. Probably for the best that they’d not be doing much shooting.

The stallion, rubbing his eyes before reaffixing his goggles, turned back to the group, stoicism chiselled to his face. “In case any of you have any doubts about where you are and what you’re doing, about who you’re fighting against and what they’ve done, burn Canterpoint into your memory. You’re not in Equestria anymore.”

The distant crackle of still smoldering fires seemed to grow louder in Apple Bloom’s ears, bouncing in her head, banging inside her skull. If the stallion was still speaking she couldn’t hear it. Wind whistled through the husks of buildings, like it was carrying the cries of the dead. Her visions blurred like it would if she were crying, even though she felt no tears. All sound coalesced into indistinct white noise. The clearest thing she could hear was her own heartbeat, pounding like a piston. Her breath got heavier, her legs felt numb, she felt herself losing balance. A hoof slipped, and she fell.

But she stopped falling. A sudden stop, before she hit the ground. Scootaloo had caught her before she hit the ground.

“I got you, Apple Bloom, don’t worry,” Scootaloo reassured, helping Apple Bloom find her footing. Apple Bloom heard her friend clearly, like the very act of helping her stand restored her senses.

Apple Bloom took another look at Canterpoint, then faced her friend. “Thanks, Scoots.”

Before long they were all ordered back onto the truck. Once they’d shuffled back into their seats, the convoy was on the move again.

The rest of the ride took a few hours, and Apple Bloom was silent the whole way.