The ground started shaking continuously, and to the west the rumble of the guns picked up. The ponies sat around the fire, frozen in shock. Then the first round hit.

One hundred yards to the west, several tons of rock dirt and mud rocketed into the sky, propelled by 250 pounds of high explosives. A tree above where the Unicornian round impacted erupted up into the canopy, disappearing into the leafy overgrowth. The blast wave dissipated all of the mist, and for only a split second the ponies could see the shock wave approach them. Then it hit.

It was the single loudest noise that Sparks had ever heard, so intense that he could feel it in his chest. The blast blew out the campfire like a little filly blowing out a birthday candle, and scattered their breakfast into the distance. Amazingly, Sparks was able to hear the sounds of the snapping of tree limbs, and looked up to the canopy. The tree that had been blasted into the air was making a reappearance, smashing its way through the canopy and landing with a crash just a few feet in front of them.

Repeater snapped out of his shock. “EVERYPONY TO THEIR FOXHOLES” he yelled at the top of his lungs, only barely being heard by his squad. Sparks didn’t waste another second, erupting into a full gallop toward his hole 30 yards away. The rounds began falling steadily now, their all-encompassing ‘BOOM’ echoing crazily through the woods. He just ran forward, and slid into his foxhole.

“MANIFEST! WHAT THE HAY IS GOING ON?!” yelled 736, his foxhole buddy. He must have been sleeping through breakfast, but the Unicornians now had his undivided attention. Another round landed, this one close enough to shower them with mud and dirt. Sparks turned to 736.

“THEY’RE DROPPING ARTILLERY ON US!”

“WHAT THE HAY DO WE DO?”

Sparks thought for a moment, and then made up his mind. “LOAD UP AND WAIT FOR IT TO END!”

“ANYTHING ELSE!”

“PRAY!”

“EVERYPONY TO THEIR FOXHOLES!” Repeater yelled, and Cold Blooded immediately got to his hooves, dragging Joe up as well. He started his sprint to the foxhole, looking behind him to make sure that Joe was keeping up. Just as the second rounds began to hit, they leapt into the relative safety of their hole. At the bottom was their Browns Machine gun, mounted on a tripod but knocked over on its side. Even as the shells began to hit the ground and shake the very earth that they stood on, Cold Blooded checked to make sure the machine gun was alright. All that he would need to do once the barrage stopped would be to tip it right up and load it, then it would be good to go.

He looked back over to Joe. The big pony was curled up against the side of the hole, hooves over his head, rocking back and forth with his eyes squeezed shut. He was muttering something, but Cold couldn’t tell what. Cold reached over and put a hoove on Joe’s shoulder.

“Hey, look at me,” Cold said at regular volume, his voice drowned out by an exploding shell. Joe looked up anyway. “Joe, we’re gonna be alright, we’re Manehatten colts. But I need you to be ready to load the gun when the artillery stops, alright? Don’t worry, we’ll make it.”

Joe may not have heard a word Cold Blooded said, but he nodded anyways. The two ponies sat there, and began to wait.

“EVERYPONY TO THEIR FOXHOLES!” Repeater yelled at the top of his lungs as he started up and sprinted to the nearest trench. The rounds began to hit as Repeater leapt into the foxhole, right on top of 801 and the medic. He looked around briefly and though, ‘I’m in the wrong hole.’

A shower of dirt and mud told him that he wasn’t going to leave as Muddy and his twin slid into the crowded foxhole. ‘Five ponies here,’ thought Repeater. Now there was nothing else he could do but hope that his squad got to cover and didn’t get a direct hit. That wasn’t going to happen though.

801 grabbed him and looked at him with frantic eyes. “WE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE SERGEANT! WE’RE GONNA GET KILLED! WE GOTTA FALL BACK!” Another shell landed, showering them with more dirt. “WE’RE GONNA DIE!”

“WE’RE NOT GONNA DIE!” Repeater yelled back, “WE’RE STAYIN’ RIGHT HERE ‘TIL THIS ENDS!” the medic was curled up in a fetal position at the bottom of the trench, absolutely silent. The twins were clutching the side of the hole, but they looked functional. 801 was still in total panic.

“THEY’RE GONNA KILL US, WE HAVE TO LEAVE!”

“YA AINT GOIN’ ANYWHERE PRIVATE, YA’LL DIE IF YA LEAVE!” another round hit, the closest one yet. Suddenly the medic got to his hooves.

“I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE!” he screamed, and before anypony could react he leapt up out of the foxhole and galloped off to the east as fast as possible. Repeater’s squad was falling apart.

“GET BACK HERE PRIVATE!” Repeater yelled as the medic kept running off to the east. All the ponies in the foxhole were poking their heads out, watching the medic run off to the distance.

With a hellish scream a shell flew overhead, and the ponies watched as it crashed through the top of an oak tree, splitting it like an axe through dry timber. “DOWN!” Repeater yelled, and then the 250 pound charge detonated. The oak tree shattered, instantly reduced to splinters that shot out in all directions. The ponies in the foxhole ducked as the 2x4 sized projectiles whizzed overhead. Then they heard screaming in the woods.

Repeater poked out of the top of the foxhole again. 50 yards away the medic lay on the ground, screaming in agony. A giant chunk of wood was embedded in his flank, which was matted a dark muddy red. 801 peeked up and saw the medic.

“We gotta help him,” he said to Repeater, just barely able to be heard through the ponies aching ears. Repeater thought for a moment about sending a pony out to retrieve the medic, but then with a thunderous boom another tree disintegrated into deadly splinters. The medic was missed, but Repeater saw a 2x4 sized piece of shrapnel gouge a hole into the ground just a foot away from where the medic lay. Sending another pony out would be suicidal until the barrage ended.

Repeater shook his head no. “WE CAN’T UNTIL THE ROUNDS STOP!”

“WE’RE LEAVING HIM TO DIE OUT THERE?!” yelled 801 in disbelief.

“ANYPONY THAT GOES WILL GET TORN TA SHREDS! WE’LL GET HIM WHEN IT STOPS, BUT AH AINT SENDIN’ ANYPONY OUT TA DIE!”

801 stood for a moment, then spun around and pointed a hoove at the twins. “YOU TWO, RETRIEVE THE MEDIC!”
Muddy yelled right back, “YOU ARE NOT THE SERGEANT!”

“I SHOULD BE!”

Repeater and the twins stared in shock. Artillery was falling like rain, the medic lay out in the open with a tree limb buried in his flank, and now 801 was trying to mutiny. Repeater was at an absolute loss. ‘I can’t lead; I don’t know what to do, and I can’t lead.’ Muddy’s twin reached for his rifle, but Muddy reached over and put a hoove on his shoulder. 801 looked wildy at the ponies in front of him.

“RETRIEVE THE MEDIC!” he ordered again. The twins shook their heads no. 801 reached for his holstered rifle in desperation. Repeater simply looked on in horror. Muddy’s twin leapt up and snatched the rifle out of 801’s hooves before he could bring it all the way up, and jammed it barrel first into the ground.

“WE ARE NOT DOING ANYTHING THAT THE SERGEANT DOESN’T TELL US TO!”

As more rounds continued to fall outside, everypony began to realize the importance of what just happened. ‘He was about to threaten us at gun point’ Repeater thought in horror. He had lost control of his squad. The ponies sat in the trench for a moment, staring at the rifle that Muddy’s twin buried in the mud. 801 looked up at the ponies in fear; they all glared back at him.

“You shouldn’t be sergeant”, said Muddy.

801 looked at the angry faces in front of him. “I’M LEAVING!” he yelled. “IF YOU ARE TOO AFRAID TO HELP HIM, THEN I WILL!” He turned and leapt out of the trench. The twins didn’t try to stop him.

“GET BACK HERE!” Repeater yelled as 801 galloped over to the medic on the ground. The shells were still bursting as 801 grabbed him and began dragging him back to the foxhole. The twins peeked over the lip of the foxhole to watch 801’s progress. Another round exploded behind them, but 801 had about half the distance to the hole.

‘He might make it,’ Repeater thought.

The ponies heard a high pitched whistle, then the ground beneath 801 and the medic erupted into the air. The ponies ducked back into the foxhole as mud and dirt rained from the sky. Repeater looked back out of the foxhole quickly. He couldn’t find them.

The twins looked out of the foxhole as well. “Celestia,” said Muddy’s twin. “They’re gone.”

Repeater fell to the bottom of the foxhole. Two of his ponies were dead. One had tried to threaten him with a rifle. He sat in a daze, another round shaking the earth as he tried to comprehend what had happened. Only five minutes ago they were sitting around a campfire. Muddy shoved his shoulder hard.

“WHAT DO WE DO NOW, SIR!” he yelled over another blast. Repeater snapped back to focus. He still had to be able to lead the other ponies in his squad. After what had just happened, he wasn’t too sure that he could.

“WE WAIT HERE FOR IT TA END, AND THEN GIVE THEM UNICORNIANS WHAT FOR!” he yelled with as much conviction as he could muster. It was enough for the twins at least; they nodded in the affirmative as they unsheathed their rifles and opened their bolts to load.

Another round screeched out of the sky and landed with a thunderous roar at the base another nearby oak, blasting the bottom out from under the tree. With a loud groan and the snapping sound of breaking wood the tree began to lean towards Repeaters foxhole. The ponies looked up as the oak finally broke all ties with the earth and began falling towards where they sat. Repeater ducked down into the bottom of the foxhole, clutching the earth and hoping that he wouldn’t be crushed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the twins leap out an away, then with a thunderous “CRASH” and the snapping of limbs the tree came to rest upon the hole. Repeater looked up. He was alive, miraculously, with the trunk of the oak only a few inches from his head. Thick foliage blocked any route of escape, but he was unharmed at least.

“MUDDY! ARE YA’LL ALRIGHT!” he called out. Another ground shaking boom emanated from outside of the foxhole, and beyond the giant oak that trapped him.

“WE’RE FINE!” he heard from outside the hole. ‘Thank Celestia for small miracles’ he thought. There was only one logical thing to do.

“YA’LL FIND ANOTHER FOXHOLE AND WAIT FOR THIS TA END, AH”LL BE ALRIGHT!” he was lying, there was no way he was going to be able to get out of this, and if the unicornians attacked he would most likely be killed or captured. Even then, that was assuming that artillery didn’t get him first. That didn’t matter though, what mattered was that the twins got out of the open and into cover.

“SORRY SERGEANT, BUT MY BROTHER AND I MADE A DEAL! WE’LL BE RIGHT BACK!”

“WAIT, WHAT!?” yelled Repeater in confusion. The ground shook some more, but there was no response from outside the foxhole. Repeater had nothing else he could do but wait and hope.

With a heavy shove, Sparks jammed the last five rounds into his SMCC, and threw the bolt forward and down. He looked up to 736, who was also locking the bolt on his rifle. The artillery had been falling for a while, but there was no way to tell for sure. It may have only been a matter of seconds, but the steady fall of howitzer rounds had blasted all perception of time away.

He leaned up against the edge of the foxhole, and closed his eyes and began to wait. ’They won’t attack until the artillery stops, and the artillery will stop,’ he thought. 736 was taking his advice from earlier, kneeled down in the center of the foxhole and muttering a prayer. Another earthshaking roar and rain of dirt convinced Sparks that that was probably a good idea.

Suddenly a pair of unicorns leapt into the foxhole, nearly landing on 736. ‘Celestia! They’re already attacking!’ Sparks thought in shock. He quickly snapped his rifle up at the assailants, both of whom had their hooves over their heads showing that they were unarmed. It was the twins. Sparks lowered his rifle with relief.

“It’s you.” He said at normal volume, voice drowned out by another blast. He spoke up now. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!” he yelled at the twins “I DARN NEAR SHOT YOU!”

“801 AND THE MEDIC ARE DEAD, MANIFEST, AND REPEATER IS PINNED IN THE FOXHOLE UNDER A TREE!” Muddy yelled back. Sparks let it sink in for a second.

“DEAD?” he asked. He always thought that they wouldn’t be able to fight, but the idea of ponies dying was still foreign to him.

“YES, DEAD! GIVE ME YOUR ENTRENCHING TOOL!” Muddy yelled, Sparks quickly unslung it and handed it off. “YOU TOO!” He yelled at 736, collecting his as well.

“WHY DO YOU NEED THEM!?” yelled Sparks.

“TO GET THE SERGEANT!” replied Muddy as he handed an entrenching tool to his twin.

“WHAT?” yelled Sparks, but the twins didn’t answer, instead leaping out of the foxhole and back into the barrage.

The two galloped back to the fallen oak, to the slight depression that indicated where their foxhole was just moments ago. Muddy skidded to a halt next to the oak as another boom reverberated through the forest. With a practiced flip the entrenching tool snapped into position, and Muddy shoved it into the earth by the foxhole.

“CUT THE FOLIAGE, BROTHER!” he yelled, and his twin swung his entrenching tool down on a obtrusive branch like an axe, splitting it. As he levitated it off to the side and prepared for another swing he yelled back at Muddy.

“IF WE DIE FOR HIM, BROTHER-“

“WE WON’T,” Muddy interrupted as he dug out another shovelful of dirt from under the tree. He could now just see into the foxhole through the small hole he had excavated under the tree, and saw Repeater inside.

“WHAT THE HAY ARE YA’LL DOIN’?” the earth pony yelled through the hole.

“MAKING GOOD ON OUR DEBT!” yelled Muddy. Repeater opened his mouth to argue, but Muddy simply jammed his tool back into the ground and dug out another shovelful. His twin cut loose another branch that was near the exit that Muddy was digging out. In a minute or two Repeater would be able to escape.

Another blast reminded Muddy that a minute may be too long still, so he dug all the faster. His twin had finished clearing branches from Repeaters soon to be exit, and was now helping to excavate. Finally Muddy threw down his entrenching tool and reached into the hole.

“COME ON SERGEANT! WE HAVE TO GO!” Repeater started to crawl through the small gap that the twins had cleared and out of the foxhole. Suddenly the horrible shriek of another 8 incher sounded out from overhead. The three ponies were completely exposed, Repeater stuck halfway out of the foxhole. They looked behind them, and saw as the round plowed into the dirt at the base of another oak. With a green glow the twins put up a shield between themselves and the round. Then it detonated.

The round vaporized the tree it was under, turning it into thousands of deadly projectiles which screamed toward the ponies at 1500 feet per second. The shrapnel hit the twins’ shield, cracking it in a cobweb pattern, but it still held. With a crack, the twins dissipated the shield and Muddy turned to drag Repeater the rest of the way out of the hole.

“Why are ya’ll doin’ this?” Repeater asked, genuinely confused. “Ah told ya ta leave.” Muddy shook his head.

“Maybe later,” was all he said, and then he turned and looked for a foxhole. The barrage had already left many suitable craters around, but Muddy looked for one of the squads originals. “OVER THERE!” he shouted, and the ponies galloped off to the foxhole that he had pointed out. The three of them slid into the hole, next to a surprised 382.

“ARE YOU OKAY, SERGEANT!” Muddy asked. Repeater nodded his head, still a little confused. 382 interjected.

“WHERE THE HAY HAVE YA’LL BEEN, I’VE BEEN SITTNG HERE ALONE FOR THE WHOLE TIME.”

Repeater shook off his confusion, and then answered. “WENT TA THE WRONG FOXHOLE!”

“I’VE BEEN SITTING OUT THIS BARRAGE ON MY OWN!” 382 complained as another shell landed close, spraying them with dirt. 382 yelled up out of the foxhole, “FOR THE LOVE OF CELESTIA, WILL YOU UNICORNIANS JUST STOP ALREADY!”

No incoming rounds answered his question, and for a moment the ponies kept quiet. Outside of the foxhole it was miraculously still. Repeater poked his head out of the foxhole and looked out to the west. A few hundred yards away the mist picked back up, any closer and the blasts of the artillery dissipated it. He couldn’t see any movement toward the enemy lines. He made a decision.

“Ya’ll load up and stay here, Ah’m going ta check on the rest a the squad. Ah’ll be back.” The ponies nodded, and with that Repeater left the safety of his foxhole and went out onto the battlefield.

Cold Blooded was counting. ‘one Fillydelphia, two Fillydelphia, three Fill-‘ the ground shook again with the force of a two hundred and fifty pound warhead. It had been two and a half seconds since the last burst. He started again. ‘One Filly-‘ BOOM. A close one. He started again.

‘One Fillydelphia, two Fillydelphia, three Fillydelphia, four Fillydelphia, five Fillydelphia’-Strange, he hadn’t gotten to five the whole barrage-‘six Fillydelphia, seven Fillydelphia, eight Fillydelphia, nine Fillydelphia, ten Fillydelphia.’ He stopped counting. For a moment, he listened closely for the telltale ‘thud’ of the enemy artillery firing, and felt for any vibrations. There were none, and no thuds either. He peeked over the lip of the foxhole. No movement to the west.
He turned to Joe. “You alright, Joe?” Joe nodded. “Good, now to business.”

He grabbed the leg of the tripod that was closest to him, and pushed down, tipping the machine gun upright. He flipped the rear sight leaf up, glanced at the woods in front of him, and adjusted the range to 150 yards, which as best as he could tell was where the mist made vision impossible. Joe had popped the bridge on the machine gun, and was now mounting the first ammunition can as Cold checked to make sure the barrel would clear the lip of the foxhole. Joe set the belt up and closed the bridge, and finally Cold pulled back on the hammer and let go.

“Ready,” he announced. Joe pulled his SMCC from his holster and began loading that as well. “How many cans do we have Joe?” he asked.

“Five plus the one on the gun,” Joe replied. Fifteen-hundred rounds in total. Hopefully it would be enough. With a satisfying ‘ping’ the Clockwork Canterlot ejected its loading clip as Joe closed the bolt, then set the rifle on the edge of the foxhole.

“What now?” Joe asked, looking into the mist to the west with scrutiny.

“We wait some more,” Cold replied.

Outside of their foxhole, they could hear voices calling up and down the Equestrian lines. They could also hear a scamper of hoovebeats to the right. Cold looked over to see the Sergeant running over to their foxhole. Repeater hopped in.

“Is everypony alright?”

“Yes sir, Sergeant, we’re fine here.” Cold said, still looking off to the west. “And we’re ready, worry about the rest of the squad.” He paused for a moment, and then looked back at Repeater.

“We’ll make them pay for every inch.”

Repeater galloped along the line, running for Manifest Destiny’s foxhole. Up and down the line he could hear ponies calling out. The thing that they called out the most was “MEDIC!” as he galloped he saw a few pony shaped lumps near a foxhole. ‘Don’t look at it’ he thought, then he arrived.

Manifest Destiny and 736 had their guns trained on the west as Repeater slid into the foxhole behind them. “Manifest! 736! Ya’ll alright!”

“We are,” Manifest answered, eyes west. He glanced at Repeater. “Is it true what the twins said about 801 and the medic?” Repeater stopped, now thinking about it for the first time. The medic ran, 801 tried to threaten him. They died.

“Yeah partner, it’s true.”

Manifest bit his lip, and looked back to the west. “Do you think that they’ll attack us?”

“They might, partner; either that or they just want us out when they start that artillery again.”

Manifest nodded once. “We’re ready.” He turned to Repeater. “Are you?”

“What the hay kind of question is that?” Repeater replied in annoyance.

“No, I mean are you loaded?” said Manifest. He wasn’t. Repeater unholstered his Marechester, and looked at it for a second with melancholy. The beautiful nickel and brass decorations were already muted with mud splatters and a layer of dirt. ‘It don’t matter,’ he thought as he grabbed out one of the rifle tubes and slotted it into place at the bottom of the rifle and racked the lever.

He looked back over towards the foxhole that the twins and 382 held. It was the centermost one, and therefore the one that he should be at. He looked back at Manifest quickly. “Ya’ll stay here, Ah’m headin’ on back.” He paused for a second, thinking of something inspiring to say. “Do Equestria proud,” he said finally. Celestia, did it sound corny, but it was the best he could manage right now. He leapt from the foxhole, and galloped back to the twins.

Sparks looked back to the west as Repeater galloped off to the squad’s central foxhole. Out west was the only direction bereft of activity. To his left was his own squad, repeater jumping into his own foxhole as sparks glanced that way. To the right was sixth squad, and just beyond them was seventh. He looked over to sixth briefly. The closest foxhole to Sparks was smoldering, and outside of it were a few still lumps on the ground. A medic ran over to one of them and flipped it. Sparks tore his eyes away from the sight. He didn’t need to see that, not now.

He heard chatter to the right, and some yelling to the rear, but he gave it no attention. He looked into the mist intently.

“How long before they do something, Manifest?” 736 asked.

“Not long enough.”

Sparks still wasn’t quite used to the name. Manifest Destiny. He still thought of himself as Static Sparks, film projectionist and blank flank from Fillydelphia. Maybe someday he would feel like he was Manifest Destiny. His ears dropped, and he looked at the ground for a second. Maybe he didn’t want to be somepony else.

Out in the mist there was a shrill whistle. Sparks immediately brought his rifle up to bear, aiming it into the fog ahead. Then there was a bloodcurdling yell.

It sounded like thousands of ponies were screaming in the woods ahead, and Sparks stomach dropped. The ground began to vibrate, and underneath the yell in the forest he heard the thunderous drumming of thousands of hoovebeats. They were charging.

Sparks couldn’t see them yet, the mist obscuring them from sight, but they were coming. The vibrations from the charge were slowly disrupting the dirt around them; a rock slowly jittered its way across his field of vision. Then he saw movement to the right. Six ponies from sixth squad got up out of their foxholes, and ran east at full gallop. Beyond them Sparks could see everypony from seventh bail out of their foxholes and sprint east, throwing down their rifles as they went. He looked on in horror.

Over half of their company was running away. Not 5th squad though. Sparks looked out into the woods again. ‘I might be killed’ He thought in panic. Out to his left he heard Cold Blooded scream. “COWAAAAAAAAARDS!” 736 turned to him.

“We got to fall back Manifest! Without 6th and 7th we are going to be overrun and killed! We have to fall back!”

There was movement in the mist to the west, hundreds of shadows racing through the woods towards them. The only option was to stand and fight. That was barely an option at all.

“COWAAAAAAAAARDS!” screamed Cold Blooded at fourth squad, as they threw down their rifles and ran east. For the tiniest of moments he considered turning the machine gun on them. Then he saw movement to the west. He aimed down the sights.

“FIRE!” he heard Repeater yell. Cold depressed the trigger, and the Browns machine gun roared in response, supported by the cracking of rifles. At 600 rounds per minute the machine gun flung rounds into the woods, dirt and wood chips being knocked from the trees as the bullets hit. Through the sights he saw some of the shadows in the woods in front of him buckle and fall over.

With a loud bang and a few clumps of dirt thrown in the air the first Equestrian artillery round fell onto the field. Then another fell, then another. The effect of the rounds was pathetic when compared to the 250 pounders, and it didn’t even seem like there were as many as the unicornians first barrage. More Bangs rang out, but Cold Blooded couldn’t see where the rounds were hitting. Suddenly with a loud crash a tree limb fell to the ground next to their foxhole, he looked up briefly just in time to see the top of one of the oaks get blasted from the rest of the tree with a bang, and slowly begin to crash through the foliage to the ground. The Equestrian rounds were detonating before they could hit the ground.

The Unicornian army erupted fully out of the mist, countless numbers of uniformly grey unicorns with spears charging across the last 150 yards to the equestrian lines. Cold swung the Browns to the most densely crowded part of the charge and let loose. The unicorns began falling before the Browns, an invisible hand reaching out 150 yards and knocking the life from their bodies with small puffs of red mist.

The Unicornians shifted their charge, now running parallel to the Equestrian lines as opposed to straight at it, skirting along Cold Blooded’s field of vision and back into the mist.

“We did it,” said Joe, “we repulsed them.” The sounds of the thundering charge slowly shifted from in front of the ponies to the sides. Cold shook his head as he traversed the machine gun to face the south. The artillery stopped.

“No, we didn’t. They’re flanking us.” He quickly checked to see how many rounds he had left in the belt. Maybe 100. Joe looked at him with concern.

“Flanking us?”

“Yeah, avoiding resistance and going through holes left in our line by the cowards. They’re just going to bypass us completely and deal with us later.”

“Well then, what do we do?”

“Ask the sergeant.”

Repeater unlatched the empty feed tube from his Marechester and slotted a new one in, racking the lever to chamber a new round. He had blasted off the last 15 already, still taking the time to aim each shot. He had no idea it he had hit anything, and frankly he didn’t care. If the unicorns had chosen to simply wade their way through the incoming fire they most likely would have managed to kill everypony right off.

Fortunately though they didn’t, and his squad hadn’t taken a casualty yet. ‘Except for our medic and 801’ he thought, then banished it from his mind. He couldn’t think about that right now.

“Squad, Check in!” he said

“MG’s fine!” he heard Cold yell. 382 and the twins were alright, they were right next to him.

“We’re good here,” he heard Manifest shout. That was everypony.

“Sergeant, I believe the Unicornians are bypassing us.” Cold Blooded called out. Repeater thought it over briefly. If they were being bypassed then they were behind enemy lines, and would remain there unless there was a successful counter attack. If there wasn’t then soon the squad would be found and mopped up. There was only one option to Repeaters mind, and it wasn’t a very good one.

“Squad, pack up, we’re fallin’ back,” he heard the sound of the machine gun being broken down off to his left.

“Sergeant, the Unicornians are behind us though,” Muddy said with concern. Repeater nodded.

“Yessir, they are. We’re gonna have ta punch through their lines somewhere ta reconnect with our forces.” Repeater raised his voice as much as he dared to, “Fall back in pairs, twins, MG, then me and 382. Manifest, ya’ll bring up the rear. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Cold Blooded called out.

“Understood, Sergeant,” said Manifest.

“Alright everypony, execute!” said Repeater, and the twins leapt out of the hole and galloped 50 yards to a suitable crater, then waved an all clear. To the left, Cold Blooded and Joe clambered out of their foxhole and headed to the crater the Twins marked out. The twins were already on the move again, scouting out the next suitable point. The MG team arrived at the initial foxhole and paused, waiting for another move up signal. Repeater could just make out the Twins about 100 yards distant waving another all clear. The MG team began to move up again, and now it was time for Repeater and 382 to begin to fall back.

Repeater turned over to Manifest’s Foxhole. “Good luck,” he said, and then he and 382 started their long fall back.

Static Sparks watched as Repeater and 382 left their foxhole and began to move on up to the first crater that the twins cleared. In a few moments, he and 736 would be able to get the hay out of there as well.

“C-Can we fall back with you?” a voice called from the right. Sparks turned around to face the voice, and saw an earth pony from sixth squad poking his head out of a foxhole. “There’s just four of us, our sergeant turned tail and fled.” For a second, Sparks wondered why the earth pony was even asking, instead of just falling back with them anyway. Sparks answered though.

“Yes, you can.”

“How do you want us to?” the earth pony asked. Sparks sat for a moment. This private was asking him, another private, for orders. Sparks looked at the pony some more, studying him. The pony’s eyes were wide with fear, and constantly darting back out west. This pony wasn’t in any position to be giving any commands to anypony else. Sparks was going to have to play Sergeant for a moment.

“Fall back in pairs. Once we get to the first crater send a pair out to follow us, and once they get there then send out the last one. Keep a watch on the west, don’t bunch up. Understood?” the pony nodded. Sparks felt a nudge on his shoulder.

“It’s time to go.” 736 said.

Out in the mist to the west he heard a ‘crack-crack’. It wasn’t a rifle, it sounded like a whip snapped twice in rapid succession. Sparks snapped his Clockwork Canterlot up to the misty woods before him, 736 doing likewise. There was nothing in the mist, nothing that they could see anyway.

With a flash of light in the mist there was another whip like ‘crack’, followed immediately by a closer flash and louder crack. The rifles shifted to the most recent flash. ‘Crack-crack’, ‘crack-crack’, ‘crack-crack’. The flashes were coming closer, popping up behind a tree around 100 yards away, then 75, then 50.

“What do we do Manifest?” 736 asked. ‘Crack-Crack.’ A shadow appeared behind an oak just 25 yards away. Sparks didn’t know.

‘Crack-Crack!’

A large grey unicorn clad in silver and red armor flashed from thin air right in front of the foxhole of sixth squad. His mane and tail were a deep crimson, complementing the gleaming silver and blood red armor that covered his whole body save his head. The unicorn squinted down at the foxhole before him, and the cowering ponies inside it. With a pale blue glow his horn lit up, and a fireball fizzled into existence next to him, cackling for a moment.

One of the ponies of sixth started scrambling out of the foxhole. The fireball flew forward at the unicorns command, straight into the screaming ponies of sixth squad. The foxhole erupted into flames, a funeral pyre for the ponies that recently inhabited it. A part of the fire struggled to break free from the rest of the inferno, lurching out of the flames and racing off into the woods. After a measly twenty feet the burning thing collapsed in a flaming heap.

The unicorn looked over at Sparks’s foxhole, the flames of sixth squad dancing in his eyes. Sparks and 736 snapped out of their horror and into action, leveling their rifles at the Mage before them. They pulled the triggers, their Clockwork-Canterlot’s responding with a satisfying ‘BOMF-BOMF.’

The unicorn was quicker, however, and with a ‘crack’ vanished from the space that he inhabited a second earlier, only to reappear in the center of the field before them. Sparks cycled the bolt as fast as he could, spinning the rifle to aim at the Unicornian. He lined up the sights again; valley, post, enemy. The Mage cracked out of existence again as Sparks hoove depressed the trigger, rifle recoiling into his shoulder with another “BOMF”. His hoove flew from the trigger guard and cycled the action again as he looked for the enemy in panic. His eyes briefly crossed over the burning body of a pony from sixth squad.

‘I lost him’, he thought in horror. Behind him he heard a yell.

“MANIFEST! LEFT!” Repeater yelled from fifty yards behind as he raised his Marechester. Sparks spun left and fired wildy this time, the shot flying wide of the enemy. 736 was pouring shots as fast as his hooves would let him, The Unicornian Mage simply teleporting out of the way before they could get a bead. Sparks saw 736 open the bolt and attempt to levitate another clip into his rifles bridge. Sparks cycled the bolt again, the unicorn flashing into existence just a few feet to the right.

“HEY!” the unicorn turned. “YA LEAVE THEM ALONE!” Repeater screamed, and the Marechester fired with a heavy “BOOM”. Sparks flew from the Unicornian’s armor as the 30.-30 pinged off harmlessly. Repeater racked his Marechester and shot again, the Unicornian not bothering to move. The round pinged off once more, scratching some of the red battle paint from the armor. Repeater started firing as fast as he could, round after round bouncing off of the Mages thick armor. Finally his gun responded with a click. The Unicornian cracked an evil grin, then turned to face Sparks’s foxhole.

736 tried placing another clip in his rifle, but couldn’t get the jittering clip to slot in correctly as the Unicornian mage strode slowly and purposefully toward the foxhole. Sparks stood on his hindlegs frozen in fear, rifle still held in his forehooves. They couldn’t kill the mage, and now he and 736 were going to die.

The mages horn glowed again as another fireball cackled to life. Sparks tried walking backwards away from the approaching death, but lost his balance. He closed his eyes and waited for the worst as he fell back hard against the edge of the foxhole.

“BOMF!”

Sparks waited for a second, braced for death, but it did not come. He cracked open his eyes, expecting to see a fireball race into him and end his life. The Unicornian stood there immobile, the flame snuffed out. Slowly his eyes rolled up into the back of his head, drawing Sparks attention to a small hole placed perfectly in the dead center of the Mage’s forehead, just beneath the horn. The Unicornian’s legs buckled, and he fell to the ground with a thud. Behind where the Mage stood Sparks saw a tree branch slowly shaking back and forth. He looked closer.

Bits of skull and brain matter were coating the branch, the weight slowly shoving the branch to and fro. Sparks looked in shock now at the body. A small trickle of blood oozed out of the hole in the mages head and pooled in the body’s rolled up eye. The Unicornan’s legs twitched in a death spasm. Sparks couldn’t tear his eyes away from the horrible sight before him, looking now to the back of the Mage’s head. There wasn’t anything left, the whole thing shattered beyond recognition, blood splattered down its back.

Sparks vomited into the foxhole, but still couldn’t tear his eyes away from the macabre sight before him. Slowly he looked down to his rifle, a small wisp of smoke coming out of the barrel. His hoove shakily moved from the trigger guard, to the bolt. Eventually he managed to pop the bolt up and back and a spent cartridge flew out. He stared at the cartridge. ‘I killed him,’ he thought.

He felt light-headed, with all the strength rushing out of his body. He didn’t even heed the beating of hooves behind him, or the hard shove on his shoulder.

“MANIFEST!” Sparks didn’t move still. “COME ON!” He looked over at Repeater.

“I killed him.”

“Ah know, but ya can’t think about it, and ya can’t look at it. We gotta go partner, before more show up.” Sparks looked himself over and shakily got to his hooves. His rifle still had the bolt open, so he shoved it forward and locked it down. “Are ya alright, partner?” Sparks shook his head as he looked at the carcass that he created.

“No, I’m not,” he looked over at Repeater. “It shouldn’t be like this.” Repeater looked at the body quickly, and then turned away from the awful sight.

“You’re right, but it is. Can ya still function?” Sparks nodded after a moment. “Alright, we’re fallin’ back.” The three ponies turned and began their run back to their own lines, leaving carcasses of Unicornian and Equestrian alike on the field of battle.

Repeater galloped through the woods with 736 and Manifest in tow, and leapt into the first crater that the twins marked. 382 had already moved on up to the next position, a dry riverbed, and was waving them clear to come over. Repeater glanced back at the two ponies behind him, and then ran from the crater to the riverbed where 382 stood. Manifest and 736 were still shaken up, but they were improving. Good, they would be needed soon.

Repeater leapt into the creekbed next to 382, and Manifest and 736 did likewise. “What happened back there?” 382 asked.

“Killed a mage, but he wiped out sixth.”

“Sixth was still there?” Repeater didn’t bother answering.

“Where’s the MG team?” he asked instead. 382 pointed to a set of bushes in the distance. Repeater nodded. He could hear the chatter of a machine gun and the steady “BOMF” of rifle fire in the distance, but couldn’t see it yet. “Why haven’t they moved up more?

“Don’t know, Sergeant.” There was only one way to find out.

“Alright, move on up.” The four got up out of the creek-bed and ran to the bushes ahead. They stacked up behind Cold Blooded and Joe. Cold was poking his head out from behind the foliage, scanning the mist off east. “Why have we stopped?” Repeater asked.

“The twins signaled us to stay here, and have been creeping up slowly ever since,” Cold answered. “I think they might have seen baddies.”

“Where are they?”

“Way up there, just a few yards right of the oak with the big split in the trunk. Around 125 yards,” Repeater looked hard for the twins, then finally found them, laying down behind a large root from the tree in question, at this range just visible through the morning mist.

“Have they waved us up yet?”

“Not yet, Sergeant.”

They waited now. As dangerous as it was to wait and risk being spotted by reinforcements from the west, it would be far worse to stumble into the main force that had bypassed them earlier. The sound of gunfire was louder here than it was earlier, but Repeater still couldn’t see the sources. Finally one of the twins raised a hoove, and slowly waved towards himself, then put the hoof to his mouth in an unmistakable ‘shhh’ motion.

“Move up quietly,” Repeater whispered, “as a group now, so we got the whole squad together if they really did find enemies. Don’t bunch up. Clear?” the ponies all nodded affirmative. “Go.”

The squad moved out from behind the bush, and slowly began making their way towards the twins, darting as quietly as they could from tree to tree. Repeater kept scanning the woods in front of him, looking for any traces of the Unicornians. Aside from what he heard the woods were still. Finally he made a last quick run to the root that the twins were hiding behind.

“Enemies ahead, Sergeant,” Muddy whispered, barely being heard above the firing from ahead. “See?” he said, pointed out into the distance. Repeater squinted in the direction of Muddy’s outstretched hoove, but couldn’t see anything.

“There, and there, and there, and there…” his twin whispered, pointing out individual trees at the edge of their field of vision. Repeater could see them now, the Unicornians hiding behind the trees from some unseen force, but easily visible to the 8 ponies who were coming in from behind.

“They all have lances,” Muddy said quietly,

“And my brother and I have seen some go down, so they must be within visual range of our forces.”

“Which means that we must be less than 300 yards away from our line.”

“How many have ya’ll counted?” asked repeater.

The twins looked at each other, then gave their answer. “Around 50 dead ahead,” said Muddy.

“Many more left and right,” said his twin.

Repeater thought it over for a moment. They were going to have to punch through, but were outnumbered as best as he could tell 50 to 6, nearly ten to one odds. The unicorns were already taking fire from up ahead, but were in pretty good cover from it. They only had spears though.

“Alright. Ah want us ta move up ta within 100 yards a them so we can see them clearly. Find some good cover, and a position where we can start hittin’ them with the rifles and MG. Since they only got lances, they’re gonna have ta charge us ta get us, and that means they’re gonna have ta leave their cover, so hopefully our guys can get them too. Once we’ve thinned them out enough, then we break through at the thinnest point and get back ta our side. Ya’ll ready and loaded?” The ponies nodded. “Alright.” he looked back out towards the unicorns, and saw a slight ditch around 50 yards away. “We’ll make a standard firing line there.” He said as he pointed it out. “Go.”

The ponies silently got up and ran for the ditch, ever mindful of the Unicornians ahead. Repeater arrived first, unsheathing his Marechester as he lay on the ground and aiming it at a unicorn about 100 yards away. He quickly scanned to see that he hadn’t been spotted, but the now clearly visible unicorns seemed oblivious to his squad’s advance from behind. In the mist, even past the unicorns he could see flashes. ‘Those must be friendlies,’ He thought with hope. They were close. All that was needed was one more push.

The rest of the squad started stacking up along the edge of the ditch. Manifest scooted up next to him on his right, the twins to the left. Beyond them Cold and Joe fell in, Cold grabbing out the Browns and hastily propping it on Joes back. 736 and 382 positioned themselves on the far right. Everypony looked to Repeater expectantly.

“Don’t use the machine gun unless they charge in mass, alright?” repeater said. Cold nodded once. “Alright. Ready.” With a few clicks the safeties were disengaged on the SMCCs. “Aim.” The rifles silently snapped level, and Repeater pick out his target, a unicorn pressed up against a tree 75 yards away. The unicorn peered around the tree towards the Equestrian forces hidden in the mist. Repeater lined up his sights on the pony.

“Fire.”

With the characteristic “BOMF’s” of the SMCC’s and a roar from the Marechester, the squad opened up. The unicorn that Repeater was aiming at shuddered, and then dropped limply to the ground. ‘Don’t think about it’. He turned over to the next closest target as he racked his Marechester, everypony else cycling their bolts. He settled his sights on another unicorn, who was looking in surprise to his rear for the unseen attackers. The Marechester roared again, and the unicorn dropped his head and slumped up against the tree. ‘Don’t think about it.’

In his periphery, he saw more unicorns being felled by the steady bark of rifles that ensued from his squad. He heard one of the unicorns in the distance shout, “Enemy to the rear! CHARGE!” As one the unicorns turned around and began to run full bore back towards Repeaters squad. Just as soon as they left their cover they began being cut down, the Equestrians in the mist ahead finally were having clear shots on them.

At least twenty were still charging forth though, covering the ground between them and Repeaters squad quickly. Repeater aimed and fired at the lead unicorn, who fell to the ground with a puff of red mist.

“JAM,” yelled Cold Blooded off to the left. The machine gun was out, and there were still at least two unicorns for every pony Repeater had. They were only 50 yards away.

Repeater reared up out of the ditch and pointed the Marechester at the most crowded part of the charge, and let loose. He shot as fast as he could fire and rechamber, barely taking the time to aim his shots. “BOOM-ch-chick-BOOM-ch-chick-BOOM-ch-chick”. The rounds flew into the charging mass, dropping the leader, then the one behind him, then the one behind him. Still the Marechester roared away, the other rifles “BOMF-ing” in support. In just a few seconds, the twenty unicorns were reduced to ten, then five. The charge faltered, the Unicorns now scrambling away from Repeater’s rifles.

Repeater kept firing, now taking the time to aim his shots at the retreating forces. The rifles barked still, and the last unicorn fell as he ran. In front of them the field was littered with bodies. ‘Don’t think about it.’

“CHARGE!” yelled Repeater as he slung his Marechester over his back. The hot barrel burned, but he hardly noticed. Everypony holstered their rifles and ran forward, over the field of the dead that they made. Repeater noticed one of the Unicorns roll over and reach out toward him as he ran. ‘Don’t think about it.’ They were now even with the position the unicorns once had, and continued their dash forward.

“HOLD FIRE, THEY’RE OURS!” they heard from the mist ahead as they ran. They had almost made it.

Repeater saw from the corner of his eye movement to the right. A lone unicorn who had stayed back was now charging at him, lance mounted and ready to kill. He was only a few yards away. There was no time to stop and grab the Marechester off of his back, and he had no weapon. As the unicorn galloped toward him screaming, Repeater realized there was nothing he could do.

Suddenly one of the twins rushed up from behind, entrenching tool out and forward, and tackled the oncoming unicorn. The two rolled across the ground, driven by the twin’s momentum. They rolled to a stop, the twin on top of the heap. He got up, and Repeater could see the entrenching tool lodged in the unicorn’s side all the way up to the end of the spade. The twin grabbed it and looked away as he pulled it out and threw it over his back. Repeater stopped running and stared at the twin. He seemed shocked at what happened, staring off into the woods away from the body. ‘Don’t think about it’.

“COME ON!” Repeater yelled, and the twin looked over briefly, then shook his head and began running again. They started passing foxholes, MG nests, all equestrian. They had made it. Ahead of them, they saw a white earth pony in the standard golden armor of the royal guard, the rest of the squad had already gathered around them as Repeater and the Twin galloped up.

“SERGEANT! KEEP YOUR SQUAD FALLING BACK, OUR SOUTHERN FLANK HAS FOLDED. THERE’S A TRAIN ABOUT A HALF MILE TO THE REAR; GET ON IT.” Repeater nodded once, and the squad just kept running.

They ran from the sounds of rifle and machine gun fire until all they could hear was the beating of their hooves on the dewy morning ground. They ran out of the wood and into an open field. The mist was finally letting up, allowing them to see the smoke of the waiting engine ahead. They ran past abandoned tents, past emptied carts. They got closer to the train, and could see ponies shoving the twenty-five pounders onboard. They didn’t stop running until they saw a pony leaning out of a boxcar waving at them, and they jumped aboard.

There were already twenty or so ponies in the car as they clambered aboard. Repeater quickly checked to see that everypony had made it. Manifest was there, the twins were, the MG team, and finally 736 and 382. They had all made it. Repeater collapsed to the floor of the car, out of breath from the sprint.

“What happened to you?” Repeater heard a pony ask. Repeater looked over toward the source of the voice, and saw twenty clean ponies in good condition. He looked back at his squad. They were all out of breath, covered in mud almost from head to hoove. Manifest stared out of the door of the boxcar, not looking at anypony. The twin did the same, Muddy sitting next to him to try and comfort his brother. On the twin’s back was the entrenching tool, coated a dark red, matching the streaks that ran down his back.

Cold Blooded slowly got to his hooves, shaking loose his saddlebags so that he could actually stand.

“We fought. What the hay did you do?” the ponies before him were silent ears turned down. A few looked to the ground, refusing to make eye contact. “Cowards,” Cold said. “Because of ponies like you, we were left to die. Because of ponies like you, we lost.” Outside the royal guard ponies ran up and began boarding the car behind them. A whistle blew, and with a chuff the train started up.

“What happens now?” Manifest asked quietly, staring out the door still. Cold turned and looked out as well.

“That royal guard pony said our southern flank fell, we have to fall back or we’ll be cut off.”

“Where do we fall back to?”

Cold didn’t answer for a second. “Haven’t you seen a map? There’s nothing but plains all the way between the Princesses and them.” He faced Manifest, and the rest of the car.

“We’re falling back to Canterlot.”

Author's Notes:

So the war finally happened, hooray! seeing how college has started for me this means either I'll have a lot more time to work on this or it will come to a screeching halt. Right now it looks like more free time, so fingers crossed. My editor has the next two chapters right now, and I will be (hopefully) updating weekly now.