Para bellum

The Drop

Canterlot nights were different.  The streets were once bustling with activity after dark, the cobbles lit by aetherium lamps as ponies from all over trotted about in the sights and sounds of the city of magic.  But no longer.  The shops were closed, the bars and restaurants nearly empty, all shutters drawn, with nary a light to be found.  The ancient city drifted in the night in silent repose, watched over only by the careful eyes of the Lunar Guard and the vigilance of the mountain batteries.

By contrast, the palace complex was well lit, presenting no place to hide for anypony.  Guards posted at nearly every door stood watch over washed out courtyards, empty corridors, and the steel lattice that formed the palace complex's private airship docks.  Few ships had the privilege of calling these docks home.  It took a very important ship indeed to clear the massive corridor of anti-aircraft guns, obelisks, and barrier engines that formed the defensive network for Canterlot Castle's inner sanctum.  Tonight, there was only one, a single middling-sized vessel docked in the first berth.

Shining Armor looked up as he walked, quietly observing the dockworkers at work doing final refits of the ship prior to departure.  Pegasi dashed back and forth on wing with blow torches and riveters, fixing spot welds and anchoring armor plate into position on the hull.  Unicorns slung armor plating into position to be welded or bolted in place.  Earth ponies hauled munitions and fuel pods on wheeled pallets into open cargo doors on the ship's ventral side.

This ship in particular was unique.  Its griffon origins were immediately evident in the design aesthetic: a prow resembling a raptor's beak, lean and aerodynamic lines, the clear wing motif on its rear stabilizers, and the feather-like layering of its sailframes against its hull.  Were it not for the emblem of the Equestrian sun and moon painted on its vertical stabilizer fins and the rearing alicorn flag flown from its radio mast, it could easily have been mistaken for an Aquellian scout ship.  A weathered sleekness lingered about the vessel, akin to a wizened athlete; a bit rough around the edges, but thrumming with barely-contained strength beneath.

Atop the airship's dorsal deck, Armor spotted the ominous silhouette of a single Equestrian gun-howitzer, a large-caliber cannon for both ship to ship combat and long-range fire support.  In sponsons on the ventral side of the aethergas reservoirs, sat smaller cannons in dual mounts, positioned for large fields of fire against ships and ground targets to the frigate's flanks.  Finally, in a single gun blister on the ventral spine rested the long, finned barrels of an autocannon cluster.

"Lieutenant Colonel Shining Armor?"

Shining Armor paused at the query, turning his head to address it.  The voice belonged to a ruddy red pegasus stallion, a bit shorter than Armor himself, but broad of shoulder and well-muscled.  White feathering adorned his fetlocks, the same color as his tail and mane, highlighted by the golden yellow of his pinion feathers.

"That's me.  To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

"Captain Sturmovik, VSK Artorius, sir," the captain smiled, extending a hoof to shake.

The stallion was obviously an aeronaut, judging by his flight jacket and watch cap.  The name was decidedly Stallian, as was the accent and the telnyashka that peeked out from under his flight jacket.  The colonel returned the shake firmly.  Anypony who made his home in the Northern Frontier Territory had be tough and likely respected those who were cut from similar cloth.  Armor wasn't about to disappoint.

"Good to meet you captain.  How does this evening find you?"

"As well as the war can find me, komandir."

"Me, too, captain.  Me, too," Armor echoed in agreement.  The colonel glanced up at the dock workers.  "Last minute preparations, I presume."

Sturmovik waved a hoof dismissively.  "I told Canterlot crew that my engineering team could handle overhaul on their own.  Canterlot dry dock workers obviously don't know how to work on Stallian engine; they take one look at internal systems and walk off the deck."

"You guys must have done a hay of a job down there."

"We are proud of our work, da," the captain nodded.  "We value what is inside the ship, just like we value what is inside pony."

"Glad to hear it.  Care to give me a walkaround of the ship?"

"My pleasure, colonel.  Seeing as you will be spending much time on ship, you should get to know her well."  Sturmovik began ambling around the U-shaped dock, slowly trotting towards the prow of the ship.  "I tell Canterlot crew they only need to give us guns and ammunition and they decide to give my ship bath and new paint job!"

"Standard procedure when requisitioning a new vessel for Equestrian use."

"Yes, yes.  Still much bureaucratic chepuka, horseapples, you know?"

"More than I'd like to," Armor chuckled.  "I used to work palace security before they put me up for this.  If that wasn't bureaucratic horseapples, I don't know what is."

"She runs using Razorclaw turbine engines; top of the line," Sturmovik detailed, waving a free hoof towards the airship's stern.  "We use turbine for electrical power generation and running the props.  Much more efficient than pistons."

Armor nodded in acknowledgement.  "I presume you've already been briefed on the mission?"

"Da.  The General offered his sincerest apologies for appropriating my ship, even giving us gun crews for newly installed weapons.  But I told him if it gets us home faster, he was welcome to appropriate my crew as well."

"Home to Stalliongrad.  Are you VSS?"

"Nyet.  Stallian merchant marine.  We've done plenty of runs for VSS, though.  I probably have had more soldiers on my ship than most Stallian warships."  Sturmovik stopped for a moment, pointing to the array of propellor nacelles protruding from the ship's airframe.  "Six props total.  Four propulsion to the rear and two on canards to the front for maneuvering.  Very fast, very agile.  I used to bring her through mountain passes on way to Talonopolis to save time."

"I'm sure she was the star of her fleet before the war."

"Indeed," the captain assented.  "Standard armor plate.  Protects against small arms and heavy machine gun fire, but will not stand up to sabot or HE-AA."

"I'd like to avoid any enemy fire if at all possible.  The Artorius is going to be my home for the next couple weeks so I'd rather keep it in one piece."  Armor chuckled.  Resuming his trot, the colonel continued.  "How did you manage to escape the storm?"

"We didn't.  We were laying over in Hoofington when news of the storm hit.  Next thing we know we are receiving dispatch to Canterlot and here we are."

"Always happens that way it seems."

"Da.  But could be worse.  I could be freezing my flank off outside Stalliongrad.  Poor Aquellian svoloch.  Frozen scum." The captain snorted at the epithet before gesturing towards the Artorius' armaments.  "We have 122 millimeter gun-howitzer for big targets, 57 millimeter for ship to ship, and .52-caliber repeaters for ground targets.  This is enough guns to handle small ship or ground forces, but not enough to deal with dreadnaught or cruiser."

"I don't anticipate going up against a dreadnaught any time soon,"  Armor replied, glancing to each artillery piece as the captain listed them off.  "Have you heard back from Stalliongrad?"

"Nyet.  All radio traffic in and out of the Frontier has ceased."  Sturmovik paused, turning his gaze towards a group of pegasi struggling to move a bit of armor plate into place on the exterior of one of the Artorius' aethergas reservoirs.  "Just a week ago, my crew and I were hoping to return home, but now it appears that is not an option."

"You have my condolences, captain," Armor empathized.  "Everypony wants to return home.  The sooner we end this war, the sooner we can do that.  We've barely started and I'm sick of it already."

"Of course." The captain said solemnly.  "Tell me, komandir, have you ever been in combat?"

"Once.  A few years ago."

"It changes a pony.  You begin to realize things you never did before."

"Like how precious life is and how easily it's snuffed out?"

"No, like all the vodka you'd be missing if you didn't come home from mission!" the captain laughed.  Shining Armor only managed an awkward half-smile in response.

"Listen, colonel," Sturmovik softened his voice, turning his head so he could look Shining Armor straight in the eye.  "There is war on, but that does not mean you need to spend every waking moment thinking about it.  You are pony!  Remember that.  We ponies are at our best when together and happy about it!"

"Thanks, captain," Shining Armor sighed.  "I'll be sure to remember that.  Shall I call off the dry dock crew?"

"Nyet.  They seem to be finishing up on their own.  I would recommend getting back on board, though.  We will be leaving shortly."

"Glad we had this talk, captain."

"As am I," Sturmovik nodded.  "This is my ship, Colonel Armor.  It is my job to ensure that anypony who sets hoof on her makes it back alive.  But to bring them back alive, I must first make sure they are willing to be brought back alive."

"Much appreciated."

"I will be on bridge to begin startup.  Good night to you, colonel."

************

The harsh glow of aetherium lamps cast sterile white light upon the ready room.  Dull blue anodized mesh lockers lined the chamber, running from bulkhead to bulkhead, each bearing the name of the soldier whose gear occupied it.  Wooden benches rising from metal grating via pylons gave plenty of space for holding gear being donned or doffed.  At the back, however was the focal point of the ready room, a wooden table with surface roughened from years of use, marred by tacks and slipshod lacquer jobs in an effort to preserve its usefulness.  All members of Tacitus huddled around the staging table, upon which was pinned a map of the area of operations.

"Several weeks ago, a team of scientists began work on a cure for Celestia in the town of Foalton," Shining Armor began.  "Because of the sensitive nature of the project, a clandestine lab was established under the Foalton clinic where their research was conducted.  When the invasion began, we lost contact with the scientists."

The colonel pointed to a red 'x' on the map near the center of the town.  "Thirteen hours ago, we recieved a coded radio transmission from within the town center, indicating that the scientists had gone to ground and were awaiting pickup.  They are safe, which is the first good news we've heard in weeks."

Armor then proceeded to trace an imaginary circle around the border of the town with a hoof.  "The only problem is that the Griffons got to Foalton first.  REIN says they're waiting for a psychological operations team to come process the villagers for intel.  Feathernecks don't know what they've stumbled upon yet.  I don't know about you, but I'd like to keep it that way."

"This will be a simple extraction mission."  The colonel levitated a pencil out of his combat tunic pocket and traced a set of arrows on the map.  "Berkut team deployed as of 0330 this morning and will provide us with cloud and rain cover for the duration of the operation."

"The Artorius will drop us off here."  The colonel put his hoof on the edge of the map, sliding it over to their insertion point southeast of the village.  "We will air drop into the forest to the southeast of the town then proceed to infiltrate the perimeter and make for the panic room.  Once we make contact with the scientists, we will exfiltrate to the northeast.  Myrmidon flight will meet us there with the runabout for extraction.  Questions?"

"How do we know we've found the scientists and not a griffon ambush?" Corona was the first to respond.

"Our challenge is 'icepick,' countersign 'phoenix.'  Anything else and you have full authorization to breach, bang, and clear.  If we can't recover the science team alive, we'll make do with their notes."

"Expected resistance?" Fletcher asked, tapping his hoof on the table.

"Berkut reports a single platoon, 40 or so marines," Armor replied.  "The griffons are positioned in a cordon circle around Foalton's limits with a few fire teams patrolling within the village itself.  Once we penetrate the perimeter, it should be easy to avoid the patrols."

"Equipment and arms?" Acclaim asked, raising a hoof.  "Any heavy weapons we need to watch out for?"

"Looks like a reconnaissance unit, lightly armed.  They came in ahead of the main force so they don't have heavy weapons.  Berkut reports all standard-issue weapons: ArK rifles, revolvers, and a few Aquila carbines.  So just regulars; no spec ops."

"What about the villagers?" Bones asked.

Shining Armor paused.  Their mission was priority.  Even if the village burned to the ground and every villager with it, they would have to get those scientists out of Foalton.  But Ironwing's words still rang in Armor's head.  Regardless of the outcome, we can't afford to let the war consume us.

"Our primary objective is to extract the scientists.  We will focus on that first," Armor finally answered.  "But we will attempt to free the villagers and direct them to safe refuge, time and mission permitting."

"And the griffons?" Fletcher spoke again, his eyes now focused on Shining Armor rather than the map.

It was a test.  It had to be.  Since they had been assembled, Fletcher had little enthusiasm for Armor's command.  While the former operator had said nothing of his thoughts, Armor was more than adept at reading body language.  The way the former captain carried himself and addressed him was a dead giveaway that he didn't approve.  But Shining Armor had dealt with enough ornery cadets and cooler denizens to know that he was not about to be intimidated by a bad attitude.

"Avoid contact if possible," Armor said, returning Fletcher's unflinching gaze.  "Killing attracts atention and we don't want to attract attention.  Ideally we'll be in and out without ever being seen."

His piece complete, Shining Armor put both his front hooves on the table, looking each team member in the eye.  "Anything else?"

Silence was the only response.

"Good.  Suit up."

************

The locker labeled LTC S. ARMOR clacked and creaked as it magically unlatched and swung open to reveal Shining Armor's pack saddle and plate carrier.  Other lockers down the line clinked and clanked under either manual or magical manipulation.  SSG S. BONES.  SFC ACCLAIM.  AGT FLETCHER.  AGT C. BOREALIS.  Canvas zipped against canvas.  Tempered steel plate clanked against ceramic scales and cold-rolled metal hardware.

A plate carrier floated out of Shining's locker borne on glowing aether.  Shining Armor was well-acquainted with the Equestrian combat utility uniform.  In wartime, it was the standard dress of all soldiers from the lowest private to the highest general.  Desk jobs, however, did not often come with body armor.  The colonel snorted as he pulled the armor carrier over his head, resting it upon his uniform jacket.  Cumbersome?  Perhaps.  Necessary?  Assuredly.

"Bones, can I get your honest opinion?"  Armor said to his friend as he cinched the straps down.

"What's the craic, colonel?"  Bones was occupied in donning his own combat armor, but his ear remained cocked inquisitively towards Armor.

Shining Armor hesitated a moment before answering.  "What's up with Fletcher?"

"Don't know, sir," Bones shrugged.  "Why don't you ask him?"

Armor narrowed his eyes.  "If I'd thought that would have done anything I would have done it back in Canterlot.  He's a tough nut to crack and I need a second opinion."

"He's a cynic, sir, I can tell that much."

"I gathered.  After Saraneighvo, I didn't think I'd ever see him again, but here we are."

"Funny how that works, isn't it?"

"He's professional, still got that edge about him.  The briefing proved that.  But something about him doesn't sit right with me.  Every time he looks at me, it feels like he's ready to shoot me in the face."

"I wasn't aware you two had built up animosity over the years."

"Neither was I."

"Use that ROTC-educated brain of yours, colonel!"

Shining Armor did little more than roll his eyes at the interjection.  Acclaim had sauntered up during conversation, butting in at Armor's momentary pause.  The colonel stole a quick glance at Fletcher and Corona at the far end of the ready room.  They conversed quietly, entirely inaudible over the drone of the ship's engines.  If they'd overheard, they weren't letting on.

"He was obviously expecting to be in charge of this horseapples outfit and he wasn't," she continued.  "Simple as that!"

"Nothing's ever simple, sergeant," Armor mumbled a response.

By the time he'd finished donning his armor, the colonel found the entirety of his team waiting expectantly.  Taking a deep breath, he waved them towards the deployment bay.  The troop fell in behind Armor, marching out the hatch in single file into the next compartment.

The deployment bay was less a livable compartment than an interstitial space with sections of hull that could fold away to allow ingress and egress.  The red alert lamps cast their ominous glow upon the members of Tacitus team as they lined up on on the deck, glinting off their armor and dulling their coats in sickly crimson radiance.  A goggled pegasus, the jumpmaster for the ship, saluted Armor as he approached.  The colonel returned the salute before turning back to face his team.

"Tacitus," the jumpmaster shouted above the drone of engines.  "Check radio!"

Corona turned back towards her radio pack, twisting a few dials and tapping on her PTT switch.  "Artorius control, this is Tacitus.  Radio check, over."

"This is Artorius control.  We read you five by five," came the reply from the Artorius' radiomare.

"Understood, control.  Tacitus standing by for jump."  Corona tapped her hoof on the deck before shouting, "Radio's good!"

"Check slow fall spells!" came the jumpmaster's voice again.

"Slowfall spells!" Shining Armor repeated.

The colonel lit his horn, leafing through his mental inventory of spells and selecting the correct one.  The glow of turned bright green as he flicked his horn, sending the energy pulse cascading across his body.  For a moment, Armor felt light as a feather, almost like he was going to drift upwards away from the deck.  But within moments he was back on all fours.  Checking his kit, Armor noted that the hologlyphs floating near his armor now glowed green, indicating that the spell was primed and ready.  Looking over his shoulder, Armor saw Fletcher and Corona performing the same spell.  Shining Armor turned to Bones.

"Ach," the earth pony snorted.  "Couldn't we have done this with parachutes instead?"

"Less messy this way, Bones," Shining Armor chuckled as he applied the slow fall spell to his friend's kit.  "Ironwing wanted quick in and quick out, so we opted to use spells."

"Doesn't make me any more comfortable with falling a thousand feet..."

"Could've asked the princess to give you wings before we left!" Acclaim quipped.  Raising her voice above the wind and engine noise, Acclaim did a poor impression of Stone Bones' accent.  "I'm Princess Stone Bones, are you a princess, too?  My wings are so pretty!"

"You can keep 'em, Featherfluff!  I like my hooves firmly on the ground!"

"You'll get over it, big guy!" Armor grinned, patting Bones' plate carrier.  Shouting to the jumpmaster, Armor announced, "Slow fall spells ready!"

"Five mikes to DZ!" the jumpmaster announced.

Shining Armor nodded to the jumpmaster before addressing his team.  "Simple mission, team.  Keep your wits about you and everything will be fine.  Hooah?"

"Hooah!" came the reply once again.

"And may Celestia Invictus smile upon us," Armor mumbled the ancient blessing.

Armor wasn't much for superstition, but if he said he wasn't nervous about this mission, he'd be lying.  It was the first combat he'd seen since Saraneighvo and his troops were counting on him to make the right calls.  The colonel took a deep breath.  Now was not time to choke.  They had a war to fight.

"Thirty seconds!" the jumpmaster shouted.

The hull doors opened, buffeting everypony in the deployment bay with high altitude wind and spraying them with the fine mist of stormclouds and falling rain.  The weather control squadron had outdone themselves.  Outside was nothing but grey-white cloudcover, large enough to hide the Artorius and thick enough to obscure a few ponies dropping in close to the perimeter.  Armor's tail twitched in anticipation.

"Fifteen seconds!"

As they approached, a small space opened up in the cloud cover below them, giving Armor a clear view into a meadow amid the forest surrounding Foalton.

"Five!"

Four.  Three.  Two.  One.

"Go!  Go!  Go!" the jumpmaster shouted above the wind, waving his hoof to signal the team.

Tacitus filed out the deployment door, kicking off the ramp and splaying their legs out to maintain control as they went into freefall.  The team linked up as they fell, forming a five-pointed star with their bodies.  Acclaim tapped her helm to get Armor's attention.  In response, Armor tapped at his head with a hoof before making the "move out" gesture with his hoof.  Acclaim grinned.  The pegasus spread her wings, peeling off from the formation and banking into a steep dive that left thin cloudy wisps behind her.  The vortex trails twisted and dissipated in the blowing wind and rain, slowly vanishing as Acclaim traced a wide loop around the DZ, establishing an orbit from which to overwatch the rest of the team as they landed.

Combat jumps would never, ever, get old.  The rush of wind flying through his mane and the alien sensation of freefall was at once exciting and terrifying, especially with somepony such as himself not being gifted with wings.  Looking down below, the meadow was rapidly approaching and the ticking noise emitted by the slow fall spell gradually sped up until it finally coalesced into a single ringing tone.  Armor felt a jerk on his plate carrier as the slow fall spell kicked in fully, deccelerating him as he approached the ground.

The lower he fell, the slower he went.  Armor put his hooves down to landing position, his body stopping just short of impact.  The spell glow and the loud humming reached its climax before finally falling off, leaving Armor to drop to his hooves the last few inches of his descent.    Armor's heart still pounded in his chest, but he quietly breathed a sigh of relief.  He was on the ground again — safe.

THUNK.  THUNK.  Fletcher and Corona both landed a few meters away, managing to stay on their hooves as they landed.  Bones was not so lucky.  The earth pony giant landed on uneven footing, his front hooves catching on a concealed depression, sending him tumbling as he hit the ground.  Armor rushed over to his friend, offering a hoof.

"Get up, Bones.  We can sleep when we're back on the ship!"

"But this was so comfortable!" the sergeant groaned in jest.  Bones hooked his fetlock into Armor's, allowing him to be pulled back on his feet.

Suddenly, a flash of yellow crossed Shining Armor's view.  Acclaim had returned.  The night guard banked hard into the wind, flaring her wings and gently touching down on the field.  Catching her eye, Armor made the "move out" hoof motion towards the tree line.  Silently, the team made their way out of the meadow and into tree cover.

"Rally up," Armor said as soon as they were within the forest proper.  Tacitus formed a tight, outrward-facing circle, all eyes scanning the woods for threats while keeping their ears peeled for orders.  "Sound off."

"Fletcher."

"Corona."

"Acclaim."

"Bones."

"Everypony up?" Armor queried.

"Got a bit scratched up back there," Bones whispered, "But I'll live."

"Good.  We need you on your hooves."  The colonel replied.  Armor turned and tapped his team flier on the shoulder.  "Acclaim, SITREP."

"Area looked clear, boss.  No feathernecks near the DZ.  They seem to have settled in pretty comfortably around the town proper."

"Understood.  Corona!  Get me the Artorius."

"Artorius, this is Tacitus, how copy, over?" Corona whispered into the wireless set.

"Artorius reads you five by five," came the dispatcher's reply.  "Send traffic, over."

"Wireless is live, sir," Corona said, handing off the auxilliary set to Armor.

Shining Armor grabbed the set from Corona with his magic, holding the radiotelephone apparatus to his ear.  "Artorius, this is Tacitus Actual.  SITREP: We have hooves on the ground and are proceeding to target, over."

"Understood, Tacitus.  Be advised, Berkut team is on standby with combat weather control, over."

"Roger that, Artorius.  We'll keep you posted.  Tacitus, out."  Armor took lead of the formation, pointing them towards the town.  "Target is half a klick northwest of our position.  We're on the clock, so let's hustle.  Move out, Tacitus!"