Is it wrong to be bored before you go into combat?

That was the question that Trench Broom was puzzling over right now as they marched through the field in the wake of the… big things, he supposed. He had expected to feel a lot of emotions before and during battle. Excitement, tension, nervousness, scaredness, sorrow, anger even. He really didn’t expect to feel bored.

But bored was how he felt.

He wasn’t bored when they were in the trenches getting run over by the… big things. No, he was terrified. He wasn’t bored when he realized that the big things were on their side. He was excited. He wasn’t bored when he was trying to figure out what in the wide world of Equestria the big things were.

But now he was bored. And he really didn’t know if that was okay. Not that he was going to ask. For one, he had been told to march in silence. Not that it mattered; he’d have to yell to be heard over the incredible hammering, roaring, and belching racket in front of them. Trench thought that he’d have hearing damage before this was all over because of that thing. At any rate, after over an hour of marching through a pristine, green, grassy field (save for the twin furrows of pulverized grass and dirt behind the big thing), he had just about run out of things to keep him interested. A bit of him was reminded of back when he was a colt, and how on long train rides he’d complain to his father, “Are we there yet?” and his dad would give him the time. He needed a watch.

It must have been around 5 in the morning, because the sun was rising in the east behind them. He couldn’t see it through the thick morning fog, though. He couldn’t see the other squads or even the big things that had flanked them. All that he could see was the rest of his squad and the back of the big thing in front of him through the grey wet haze. He had gotten used to the view.

But it was brighter, so he could see the back of the big thing better. That was reason enough for him to take another swing at trying to figure out what the big thing was. Well, that and the oppressive boredom.

Whatever the big thing was, he could tell that it was metal, painted dark green. On the back was a large drum, with a hose that ran towards the front along the top of the thing past a large hexagonal protrusion. On the sides of the thing were metal… bands he guessed, with flanges on them. They moved continuously in a loop coming up from the bottom and wrapping around the top, moving off out of his vision to the front so that they could come back down and towards him to start the cycle again. From the top of it behind the hexagonal box a pipe oozed thin black smoke

No, he still didn’t know what the thing in front of him was. It had to be something brand new, purpose built for this battle. Whatever the hay it was, Trench was glad it was here. His ears drooped though as he made a realization.

He was bored again, and now thoroughly out of distractions. Drat.

It couldn’t be that far to go, could it? They started marching at 3 in the morning, and he reckoned that it was nearly five, and there were 7 miles to their front line. If they did more than 3 miles per hour then they had to be almost there, and that was about trotting speed.

Trench’s musings were interrupted by a sudden step down into dirt instead of grass. He looked at his hooves. He was trotting into a small, shallow crater, but a crater nonetheless. An Equestrian artillery crater. Celestia, they were close.

“ALRIGHT EVERYPONY!!!” Repeater yelled out over the thing in front of them. “SAFETIES OFF! THE SECOND YA’LL SEE A TRENCH AH WANT THE MACHINE GUNNERS TA SUPRESS ‘EM AND EVERYPONY ELSE TA ‘NADE THE HAY OUTTA IT! WE FOLLOW THIS THING RIGHT ON IN! IF WE GET IN THE TRENCH WE GOT A CHANCE, OUT HERE WE DON’T, SO GET IN THAT TRENCH!”

Trench Broom grabbed his MMMG off of his back, being mindful of the 18-inch bayonet that protruded from it. He tucked the stock into his right shoulder and used his teeth to pull the bolt back and open before he flicked the knob at the back to full-auto with his muzzle. He trotted forward with a strange three-legged gait as he pointed his MMMG. He couldn’t use the sights, but he could trot somewhat, which was more than everypony else. They’d have to stop and stand on their rear hooves to fire, and that wasn’t an option right now.

“TRENCH! EAGLE! COVER LEFT!” It was Cold who was yelling orders now, traversing the Browns Machine gun on Joes back to cover the right side of the thing. Trench nodded to no one and swung his gun to the left side. The MMMG was so front heavy with the bayonet, the hold that he had on it with his shoulder and hoof in the trigger guard was only just able to keep it up. It listed to the left too, weighted down by the magazine that protruded out of the side. Trench kept his eyes wide open, looking into the fog for the enemy.

The big thing was already fading into the thick morning fog, and it was only a few feet in front of him. Trench could see the ground around them become more pulverized by the second, but he could hardly see more than 25 feet. There would be no warning, once they saw the trench they would be right on top of it, there would only be time to fight. Trench tensed his hoof upon the trigger as they followed in the wake of the thing.

He wasn’t bored anymore, not by miles, but Celestia he now wished that he was. Every sense at his disposal was on full alert, waiting for the Unicornians to inevitably come out of the fog within spitting distance. But all he could see was the ground fading to grey, all he could smell was the smoke and the fumes of the thing, and all he could hear was the unending crashing of noise in front of him. Nothing could tell him if he was twenty steps or ten thousand from seeing the enemy.

He started to feel tired, and sick in his stomach. His MMMG started shaking in his hooves as he trotted forward. ‘It’s just shaking because I’m tired,’ he thought halfheartedly. ‘Not because I’m nervous, not at all.’

He kept trotting forward, and then his mouth opened almost involuntarily. He hadn’t been breathing since Repeater told him to get his gun out. He focused on the motion. In, out, in, out. He breathed heavily. His gun was still rattling, but a little less so.
If only he could see them. He knew it was a two way street, and they’d be giving him a hail of lead, but at least he’d know where they were. The worst part was not knowing, not being able to relax for a single second. Still nothing had happened. They trudged through the now obliterated field of dirt and depressions, not an enemy or even a sign of them visible, but they were all still on a hairtrigger.

A sudden snap that could just barely be made out over the thunderous din made Trench tense up even more than he already was. He looked so intensely through the fog but it gave him nothing. His hoof caught on something sharp, and he looked down in surprise. A wooden post had been snapped and smashed into the ground by the thing, barbed wire still entwined around it. A small trickle of blood ran from where he had been stuck, but it didn’t hurt. He kept advancing.
They couldn’t be more than 500 yards out now. But they could. Trench still had no way of knowing where they were, he glanced at the ponies behind him. All seemed on edge as they crept forward. Something had to give.

He thought that the fog was thinning, but couldn’t be certain. He panned his gun from left to right, hoping to cover all the area that they would be in. A small breeze blew wisps of the fog past him. There hadn’t been a breeze all morning. He looked at the ground, and thought that he could see further. It was clearing, and with every step that he took forward he could see further. He glanced behind him, and the fog there was still thick enough to swim in. He looked back forward. The fog was now a golden color of the sun, far removed from the grey from before. Off in the distance to his left he could see the outline of something large, like a low hill off in the distance.
He breathed a sigh of relief. The fog was finally ending, and with it the uncertainty that it held. Suddenly he caught himself.

The fog was ending. And they weren’t there yet. Oh Celestia no. Trench threw out a frenzied prayer in his head. Celestia, Luna, anyone, please keep the fog up. Trench felt another breeze, and like a curtain lifting the fog bank ended and he stepped out into the open shattered field.

For a second he saw everything. He saw all the things and the squads to his left and right emerging from the fog like they had flown through a cloud. He saw his squad mates eyes widen and their mouths silently protest to the fog to come back. He saw the dirty, pock-marked field and its twisted and coiled wire in it. He saw the faint outline of a hill become a low concrete bunker, thousands of yards away but still massive enough to dominate the landscape. He saw a thin line in the field ahead, with the silhouettes of unicorn heads sticking up over it in the hundreds at least and more popping up by the second. Trench’s mouth dropped with his spirits. And then the second was over.

With a horrendous squealing the left band of the thing in front of them stopped, and the metal hulk began to turn. Out ahead Trench saw the line in the field start flashing yellow, and immediately ducked behind metal. The thing was turning parallel with the trenches ahead, putting as much metal between the ponies behind it and the bullets in front as possible. The thing stopped moving, and with it the noise changed from the familiar racket to the not so distant sound of gunfire. Trench ran up alongside the thing with the rest of his squad, stacking up against the comforting metal shield it provided.

“IS EVERYPONY ALRIGHT?!” Hack Saw yelled out. Trench looked around. Nopony was lying out on the ground, and everypony seemed to be up against the thing.
“YEAH!” he yelled in reply. He had to yell. Everything was so loud. The cracking of the Unicornian rifles. The clanging of the bullets on the metal thing. Every few seconds he would hear a high pitched “FFFFFT” as a bullet would wizz overhead.

“YOU’RE BUCKING KIDDING ME!” Eagle Eyes yelled in anger. “THIS FOG HOLDS UNTIL WE GET WITHIN SPITTING DISTANCE, AND NOW WE’RE ALL DEAD!! IT’S NOT BUCKING FAIR!” Maybe Trench had spoken too soon about everypony being alright.

“EAGLE, SHUT THE HAY UP!” Longshot yelled back.

“WE’RE STUCK OUT HERE! WE CAN’T GO FORWARD, NOT THROUGH THAT! WE SHOULD FALL BACK INTO THE FOG!” Trench looked back into the fog bank. It was still thick, but it was receding away.

“WE AIN’T FALLIN” BACK!” Repeater yelled. Trench felt something hot hit his ear and swatted it away with his free hoof, knocking a bullet pancaked by the things armor away. Above them Trench heard a whirring noise, and looked up. The box on the top of the thing was now turning.
The thing heaved with a loud and sharp “BOOM”, followed by a rattling of machinegun fire. Eagle yelled back at Repeater over the sudden eruption. “WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO THEN!”

“WE’LL STICK TA THIS THING LIKE GLUE! IF THERE AIN’T GONNA BE ANY FOG THEN WE’LL HAVE TA MAKE OUR OWN! PREP SMOKES!”
Trench reached into his bags for the cylindrical smoke grenade when he heard a low pitched scream from overhead, heading east. He looked back into the fog when the ground heaved beneath him. The thick fog behind them evaporated in an instant, blown away by 250 pounds of explosives that rocketed a column of dirt into the sky and blotted out the rising sun. The shockwave hit Trench like a hammer, throwing him up against the side of the thing. Another explosion followed close behind, but no more after it. Trench stumbled back to his hooves and looked at the cloud of dirt they had made.They had to be a thousand yards off. .

“THEY’RE BRINGING ARTILLERY ON US!! WE GOTTA FOLD!” Eagle yelled. Trench looked over at him, the anger present a few seconds ago now turned to fear.
“THEY’RE RANGING THEIR SHOTS!” Repeater yelled back. “IF WE STAY HERE, WE’RE DEAD! IF WE FALL BACK, WE’RE GONNA GET SHELLED FOR 7 MILES! THE ONLY PLACE THAT WE STAND A CHANCE IS IN THEIR TRENCHES, SO READY YOUR BLOODY SMOKES!”

For Trench it was complete sensory overload. There was so much happening, so quickly, and so intensely that he could hardly pull the smoke grenade from his saddlebag with his shaking hooves. Out past their squad he could see others, crouched behind the things that sat and shielded them from the onslaught of Unicornian rounds. He could see that the boxes on top of the things each had a cannon, which blazed away every few seconds at the Unicornian lines with a sharp boom. He could see the sparks of bullets hitting them and bouncing away harmlessly. Some of the things were different, smaller, but he paid no mind, focusing on the once simple action of readying a grenade. Now it was a Herculean effort.

“ALRIGHT!” Repeater yelled, taking a small step back away from the thing and readying to throw his smoke grenade over it. “ON THREE!” Trench got into a position with everypony else to throw their smokes, and hoped that his rattling hooves could throw far enough. “ONE!”

Repeaters sentence was cut short as the sky above them opened up with the shrieking whistle of incoming shells. Trench dropped his grenade instantly, throwing himself up against the thing. The ground started shaking as the whistling changed to the roar of explosions, happening so often he couldn’t distinguish where one started and one ended.

“YES!!! THANK YA CELESTIA!!!” Repeater yelled out with a grin. Trench listened intently as the ponies around him scrambled to see what Repeater was yelling about. The explosions were behind the big thing. He stood up, and cautiously trotted over to peek around the side.

He couldn’t see their lines anymore, only the eruptions of dirt where they used to be. So many that from horizon to horizon along the Unicornian line there was nothing but dust and explosions. It was more intense than any fireworks display that he had ever seen, and until now that was the closest experience to this. It seemed that every second tens of small blasts would ensue in front of him, punctuated by low whistles that cut through the high pitched shrieks and eventually detonated ferociously, throwing geysers of dirt where it hit far past the rest. It was as if the very ground was trying to escape the onslaught.

Trench trotted out from behind the thing into the center of the field. He was completely exposed, but he felt safer than he had all morning. His shaking had gone. Nopony would oppose them in the face of that.

The shells continued to fall on their lines, now detonating above the trench with sharp bursts of light and corresponding sprays of dirt like rain hitting water. Somehow the barrage kept up, never letting down its intensity. Trench shook his head in near disbelief. Nopony could possibly survive the onslaught.
A low roar came from overhead, and for a second Trench could actually see a black blur fly into the dust cloud from above. There was a brilliant orange flash from inside the dust, and then Trench was blown off his hooves.

He tumbled and rolled in the dirt, end over end, his MMMG flying from his grip. Eventually he came to a stop. The sky filled his vision, ‘Am, I dead?’ No, the dead’s ears wouldn’t be ringing as much as his were. He shook his head and looked back off towards the direction of the blast. A brown and black mushroom cloud of smoke and dirt towered over the enemy position, which was almost consumed by the dust from the barrage. Trench reached a hoof up to his aching ears, and then looked at it. He wasn’t bleeding.

No more rounds fell, and it was blissfully silent apart from the ringing in his ears. For a second Trench thought that he could just lie in the dirt, and hope the Unicornians would just call it a day in the wake of that. A faint sudden roar and clacking screech ended that thought. The big thing was turning toward the dust cloud ahead, and was now noisily and smokily moving towards it. The squad fell in behind it, save for Hack Saw, who ran over to him on the ground.
Hack yelled something, but Trench couldn’t hear it.

“What?” he said back. He must have said it loud, because Hack Saw recoiled. The unicorn grabbed Trench by the muzzle and turned it, looking into his ear. He lowered his head and shook it, closing his eyes.

Trench got very worried, “Did I lose my hearing?” Hack looked back up, and his horn lit. The ringing in his ears vanished, and he could hear again.
“You blew out your eardrums! Let’s hope that’s all I have to fix! You good?!”

“Yeah!” Trench said, grabbing up his dropped MMMG and getting to his hooves. They ran back to the squad, who were advancing behind the thing as they had been in the fog. Trench got into his position on the left side and brought his gun back up. Still a little shaky, but he wasn’t afraid anymore, not after that display of force.

They entered the dust cloud, and as soon as his tongue tasted the dust in the air Trench shut his mouth. The air was so thick with it that it was hard to breath, and Trench was now concerned about what it would do to his eyes. Visibility dropped to almost zero, and if anything it was worse than the fog. The fog was cool and comfortable. The dirt was… well, dirt.

Trenches gun rocked lazily from side to side as he trotted his three-legged trot. He didn’t expect to see anypony after that barrage, and anypony that he did see he expected would surrender instantly. He knew that he would.

The dust out in front of him flashed twice with a pair of sharp cracks, and Trench about leapt out of his skin. The squad around him reacted immediately, going to ground and unslinging their rifles. The thing moved forward without them.

“Holy-” Trench finished his sentence with a spray of fire from his MMMG into the dust, which was returned with another pair of flashes. He fired again wildly, and a breeze thinned out the dust between them. He could see their outlines in the brown haze again and fired off a third burst in their direction. Their heads ducked back into their trench under his fire. He reared up on his hooves and aimed properly, the second they popped back up he’d punch their clocks.

He never got the chance. The thing drove forward and over the trench, stopping once it had straddled it. The box whirred about to face down the trench slowly. Trench heard a frenzied cracking of rifle fire, ten shots at least, but the bullets bounced harmlessly off of its thick metal hide with only a shower of sparks to show for it. The box stopped, and the cannon aimed down into the corridor. Trench heard somepony yell. Then the gun went off.

With an explosion of dirt the two Unicornians that he had been trading fire with flew out of their trench along with several compatriots, landing heavily on the ground like ragdolls that had been tossed aside. Ragdolls that were missing legs. The thing started firing a machine gun from beside the cannon, a long, steady burst that traversed up and down the length of the trench. From the sounds that he heard this was happening up and down the line, all of the metal monstrosity’s unloading into their portions of the tiny corridor at the trapped Unicornians. But Trench wasn’t looking at that. He was looking at the shattered bodies that lay out in the dirt just yards away.

It hadn’t been real to him. He had been scared, and he had seen photographs, but he never knew what was at stake until he saw the carcasses lying there. One of them was missing both of his hind legs, his face frozen in a contorted pain, his eyes wide and empty as they stared into the dirt. Trench’s hold on his MMMG faltered, the front slipping out of his hoof and dangling loosely.

Trenches eyes looked from body to body, each with its own horrific story to tell. He fell to the ground and dropped his gun.

The thing started trundling forward, the box turning away as if to say that its work was done. The squad got up and started running past him, but Trench lay rooted to the spot. He felt a shove on his shoulder, and he knew it was Repeater.

“Partner, we gotta get in there!” Trench didn’t move, he didn’t really feel like going anywhere right now. “PARTNER! LET’S GO!” Repeater yelled. Trench stayed immobile.

“I-I really don’t think that I want to, Sergeant,” Trench said quietly. It was the quietest that it had been since the battle started, a small calm in a sea of storms, and Repeater heard him well. His face softened, and for a moment Repeater wasn’t a sergeant, he was a concerned friend.

“Trench, if we don’t get in there we’re out in the open. They probably already got their big guns aimin’ at us right now.”

Trenches eyes started to water. He kept on looking at the obliterated corpses in front of him. They were ponies a few minutes ago. “I don’t think that I have it in me to do something like th-that to somepony.”

“If we can ah won’t make ya, and once this is up ah’ll see bout sendin’ ya home. Let’s just get into that trench right now, alright?” Trench nodded. Repeater turned and headed in after the squad and Trench shakily got to his hooves. Absentmindedly he grabbed up his MMMG and followed Repeater through the gap in the wire the thing had made, and hopped down into the trench.

He landed on something soft, and he froze. Up and down the dusty trench were Unicornian bodies. He had just stepped on one. Some of them were blasted to bits by artillery, limbs scattered about near bloody ribcages. Some were intact save for the bullet holes of machinegun fire torn through them. The worst ones were the ones that were killed by shrapnel. They were still intact enough to be recognized as a pony, but they had giant, ragged gouges through them, spilling guts and ripping them to shreds. The ones with shrapnel were still smoking from the smoldering metal inside of them.

He threw up. He hadn’t had breakfast, so there wasn’t much there, but he threw up anyway.

“Hey Trench, are you okay?” Hack asked. Trench looked up to see the squad stacked up against the trench wall, they were all there, and they were all looking at him expectantly. He nodded his head, and a look of relief washed over Hacks face at least.

“Hey,” Longshot said in surprise. “We’re all here.” A smile started to crack on his face. “We’re all in the Unicornian trenches, and none of us are dead! Holy Celestia! We made it! We friggen’ made it!”

“Halt your cart Longshot, we mighta made it here, but this aint over yet,” Repeater said. He was a Sergeant again. “Stack up; Ah’ll take point, then twins, Longshot, MMMG’s, and Silent. Hack, Cold and Joe cover our backs. We’re headin right ‘till we find a trench that gets us ta the rear.”

The squad started reshuffle into their positions, Cold and Joe heading left as Trench started right to stack up with Eagle. Cold still had the same emotionless look on his face, dim eyes staring off down the shattered corpse filled trench. Trench couldn’t understand how, surrounded by all of the dead, Cold could still remain aloof.
As Cold drew level with Trench his eyes widened suddenly, and he stood up quick, getting his hooves on the Browns. Joe stopped and dropped to the ground as soon as he felt the tug on the gun, putting his head flat against the dirt to keep it out of the way. Cold followed him down as the machine gun Joe carried on his back dropped too. The machine gun snapped to aim down the trench as Cold closed an eye to aim. “GET DOWN!!!” he yelled. Trench dropped.

The Browns started firing, a rapid ear splitting roar. Trench watched it as it blazed away just feet from him, his eyes transfixed on the impressive sight. Bullets tore out of it with tongues of fire, showering Trench in burning brass casings. He swatted them away as the machine gun stopped. Trench looked in the direction that it fired just in time to see the last Unicornian stumble and fall over dead, riddled with bullets.

“ENEMY DUGOUT TO OUR REAR! FIFTY FEET ON THE RIGHT!” Cold yelled out, keeping his MG aimed at the small indent in the trench wall that signaled the entrance. The squad was looking back that way at the dugout.

“Alrighty Trench, this is what we brought you along for,” Longshot said, “Flush ‘em out.”

“He ain’t gonna,” Repeater said as he looked at the distant indent. “He ain’t fit for combat.”

“The hay does that mean?” Longshot asked in confusion.

“He can’t do it, not right now anyway. We’ll do it with Silent, Eagle, and the twins.”

“The hay I will!” Eagle said in disbelief. “I’m only going in there if I get his pay!”

“Eagle, shut up when grown-ups are talking!” Longshot snapped at his underling.

“Thank ya,” Repeater said. “Muddy and Bloody, ya’ll ‘nade it, Silent douses it with the Dragon. Eagle, ya pick up the pieces and don’t question mah orders again, ya hear?” The ponies addressed nodded, Eagle with a pronounced frown on his face. “Good.”

A thunderous roar and crash made Trench turn around back towards the dugout. Another thing was breaching the trench between the dugout and them, smaller than the one they had followed into the trenches, and not stopping as it went. More came with it, a fresh squad of Equestrian troops diving into the trench after each one. “HEY!!!” Repeater yelled at the closest squad, one of the ponies turning to face him. “YA’LL GOT A DUGOUT TA YOUR LEFT, BACK WALL!!!” the pony nodded and threw off a quick salute before turning to address his squad. “They got it,” Repeater said with a nod. “Let’s go find a way ta the rear.”

Trench watched the other squad stack up to clear the other dugout for a moment as he thought. He didn’t want to let them down, and Eagle was right, he shouldn’t have to do other ponies jobs. But Trench looked at the bodies on the ground, shot and torn and blasted, and he felt another wave of nausea. He couldn’t do that; he could hardly look at it. The squad got into its order around him and started heading down the trench.

Trench Broom kept having to step around the bodies of dead unicorns. He didn’t want to look at them, but if he didn’t he knew he would step on them and feel the cold, blood-slicked flesh on his hooves. He hated it. He looked over his shoulder past Silent at Hack.

“Hack, is there anything you can do for them?” he asked pleadingly. He knew the answer beyond doubt, but he still held out a glimmer of hope. Maybe somepony was still alive in this carnage, and could be helped. Hack looked at the bodies in the trench around them and shook his head.

“Sorry Trench, there’s nothing anypony can do for any of them,” he said quietly. The whole trench was quiet, relatively. The screeching and roaring of the things and the clattering of machine guns was still present, but subdued, far off. Trench turned to face front again.

The trench lit up orange behind him, and he quickly looked back. He instantly wished that he hadn’t. There was a fire, large and furiously burning where the other squad had been a moment ago. Two ponies stood outside of it, nearly frozen by the sight that Trench saw behind them through the settling dust. There were things writhing in the flames. A high pitched scream cut through the crackle of the inferno, piercing Trenches ears. The squad turned around with him.

“Holy Celestia!” Longshot said. Hack almost started running to help, but was stopped. Trench heard a crack like a whip, not of a rifle.

“MAGE! WASTE ‘IM!!” Repeater yelled. Trench saw a unicorn at the top of the trench, above the last two ponies of the squad. He saw a fireball ignite in the air and fly down, exploding upon the last survivors. Behind him and in front the squads guns lit up, a cacophony of fire and flashes in anger, but to no effect. The mage flashed out of existence.

“COVER THE TOPS!!!” Repeater yelled franticly. Their guns traversed up to the rim of the trench around them to counter the threat, all except for Trench’s. Trench ducked into the wall and covered his head and shut his eyes. ‘It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay, it’ll be okay.’ He heard Repeaters rifle fire wildly and rapidly. “WHERE’D HE GO!!!”

The browns opened up, and Trench heard the brass clatter around him. ‘Don’t let me die don’t let me die don’t let me die,’ Trench thought nonstop. Not seeing was terrifying, but it had to be better than the other option. He heard the twins’ rifles fire simultaneously. They were keeping the mage at bay, but not much more.

“TRENCH YOU COWARD, GET UP!!” Eagle yelled, followed by a burst from his MMMG. Trench could be called a coward, but that wasn’t going to change his mind. Something hit him on the back, and he yelped in surprise. “DON’T FREEZE UP!” Eagle yelled. Trench didn’t care. Nothing in training had been like this, terrifying and terrible and apocalyptic. There was more gunfire; it seemed like from all of them. “FOR CELESTIA’S SAKE TRENCH! IF YOU DON’T HELP WE’RE ALL DEAD!” Eagle screamed.

Trench stirred at this. He couldn’t let them all die. He opened his eyes. Shells lay on the ground around him, Unicornian bodies a few feet away. Above him the squad’s guns covered the lip, each a different area. With a crack he saw the mage appear at the top, clad in grey armor, snapping away instantly as the twins fired at him and more guns swiveled to where he was.

‘Celestia, he’s just toying with us.’ Trench thought. He got up on his rearhooves and raised his MMMG to the top. The mage snapped back in again and Trench pulled the trigger, not taking the time to aim. Nothing happened. His stomach fell off of a cliff. He was going to die. The squads rifles fired as the mage disappeared. Trench wasn’t dead yet.

He looked at his MMMG quickly as the guns fired around him again. Dropping it earlier fouled it with mud. Quickly he dropped the mag and knocked the dirt in the mechanism out, grabbing up another and hurriedly putting another it. The magazine caught on the gun, then again, before finally seating in. He heard the rifles fire again.
“We’re almost out Sergeant!” Muddy called, reacting and firing his rifle for the second to last time. The mage was starving them of ammo, and just as soon as they couldn’t counter him he’d go in for the kill. Trench pulled the bolt back on his MMMG.

He heard the mage pop behind him and spun to counter, but the twins and Longshot had already driven him off with rifle fire. “Last round!” Bloody said. Repeater nodded. The mage flashed again, and the rifleponys expended their last shots. “RELOADING!” Muddy, Bloody, and Longshot opened their bolts.

With the gun in his hooves a strange feeling came over Trench, a detachedness. The raw terrified emotion that controlled him had receded, at least a little. He had some bearing over what was about to happen to him, and that power gave him strength. His mind was able to work again. The mage was always going to dodge them until he thought that they couldn’t fight back. He would only stay if he thought he could kill them. The only chance that they had was to get him right before he incinerated them.

The mage appeared on the trench above them, on the opposite side from where Cold was aiming. Cold would never be able to get the Browns around fast enough, even as he began to pivot. Everypony was reloading now, except for Trench. He saw the unicorn light a fireball in the air in front of him, looking intently at the Silent Specialist with burning eyes. Trench snapped the gun up and pulled the trigger.

The gun rattled in his hooves as it spat out its bullets with a ‘pa-pa-pa-pa-pap’, but he was still able to guide where the rounds went almost effortlessly. The first few missed the mage entirely, but he corrected down. The bullets connected with the mages armor, unable to penetrate but sending off a cascade of sparks as they ricocheted off of the plate. The mage turned his head towards trench as his hooves unconsciously walked his bullets up the armor to the only exposed part of the Unicornians body. The fireball shot toward him.

It barely moved before it was snuffed out, allowing Trench to see as the Mages face simply ripped itself to pieces. In less than a second the MMMG had rent his snout from his face, imploded his eyes, and shattered his skull. Somehow the mage managed to stay up for a moment, held in place by the bulky armor that supported him. Trench’s gun stopped firing, and the mage stopped shuddering. Blood trickled down from the holes in his face slowly, dripping from the ragged flesh that his snout used to attach to. It no longer had eyes, but the head pointed directly at Trench, almost as if this faceless bleeding monster was staring at him through bloody sockets. Its head slowly flopped forward until the armor arrested it, the force of the movement slowly pulling the body forward until it fell over the trench wall and collapsed upon the ground with a clatter and shrieking of metal.

Trench still held the smoking, empty gun up at up at where the unicorn stood. His hoof was still tight on the trigger, and he wasn’t about to let up. His mind was replaying the events. One second there was a pony, and the next there wasn’t. And he did it. If he didn’t they might all be dead, but he still couldn’t believe it.

The rifle ponies around him finished reloading, their sense of urgency gone. Repeater looked up and around for any more, then slowly trotted over to Trench. The others were watching, some the body, and some the frozen squad mate.

“Trench, are ya alright?” he asked cautiously. Trench let his hoof off the trigger and snapped back into reality.

“I didn’t think that I could do it.”

Repeater looked at the corpse that Trench couldn’t bring his eyes to and nodded. “Ya saved the squad partner.”

“Yeah.”

“Are ya good ta fight now?”

“Maybe in a few minutes,” Trench answered. Slowly he put a third hoof on the ground for balance and looked down at his MMMG. Smoke poured from the barrel and ejector port, wisping off into the slowly settling dust cloud that still hung from the barrage. He reached forward and bit the magazine, yanking it from the gun and reaching over to his bags for another. The action was automatic, and as he replaced the first magazine in the bags and grabbed up the second his mind was more than capable of thinking about what happened. He killed a pony. Who was going to kill him. To save the squad. He slotted the new magazine into the gun and pulled the bolt back again.

“Sergeant, it shouldn’t be like this,” Trench said. Repeater looked over to him; a sad flicker of a smile ran across his face.

“That ain’t the first time ah heard that, and ah know. But it is. Ya ready ta fight?” Trench nodded. “Good. Alright everypony, we’re gonna clear that dugout.”
Trench had almost forgotten about the dugout in all the excitement and looked back to it. There were already two squads stacked up by it, and judging by how they were already throwing their grenades through the entrance they didn’t need any more help.

“Well, nevermind ah guess,” Repeater said. “Let’s find a way ta the rear.”
The squad started moving down the trench, away from the dugout. Celestia, how long had it been since this had started? It felt like ages, but it had likely been minutes. Trench had gotten back into his place in the lineup, just about in the middle. He looked through his squadmates. Up ahead there was a squad stacked up, facing toward them. They were coming up to something.

They stopped heading forward and flattened against the trench wall. Trench couldn’t see what they were stopping for, a dugout, a trench, he didn’t know. He couldn’t see past Eagle either, unless he got up off of the wall. He listened for orders.

“What’s the situation?” he heard Repeater ask up ahead. He must be talking to the other squad.

“This trench goes back at least a hundred yards, with a machine gun covering the length. Now that you’re here I recommend that we throw out smokes and charge them under their cover, then grenade them out. Beat them with sheer violence of action.” Trench felt a pit in his stomach. Celestia, he didn’t want to do that.

“Sergeant, Ah can tell ya that chargin’ a machine gun nest with nothin’ but bravery only ends up wastin’ everypony under your command. Gimme a few seconds.” Trench breathed a sigh of relief as Repeater kept talking. “Muddy, Bloody, can ya’ll take a peek and tell me what’s down this trench?” Trench heard some rustling and saw the twins come off the wall to get to the corner, one levitating up his trench mirror as he went. They stopped at the corner and eased the mirror out.

“Two dugouts, Sergeant. One left at about 30 yards-“

“-and one right at maybe 70.”

“And at the end of the trench is-“

The twin was cut off by a crashing of glass, and they jumped back in unison as the sound of a machine gun cut into the air. It fired slowly, a steady ‘bap-bap-bap-bap’ that lagged fractionally behind the bullets that smashed into the trench wall just feet away. The gun cut out abruptly, leaving a pair of stunned ponies looking at the holes it punched in the wood.

“Ya’ll okay?”

“Uh, yes Sergeant,” Bloody replied for both of them. Muddy looked down at the shattered mirror in disappointment. “There’s a machine gun at the end of the trench, and he’s a good shot.”

“Ya said 30 yards ta that first dugout?” Repeater asked.

“Yessir.”

“Trench, come on up here.” Trench started; surprised that he was being singled out, but dutifully got off the wall and trotted up. “Do ya think that you’re ready ta fight?” Repeater asked. For a moment Trench’s mind whirred. No, not at all, and he didn’t want to. For a second the mage popped back into his mind. He didn’t want to do that again. He almost shook his head no, but he didn’t.

He could do it. He had done it. If he was asked to and didn’t, somepony else would, and if they were hurt doing his job he’d regret it always. He didn’t want to do it, but he knew that nopony did. He nodded his head.

“I’m ready.” He wanted to sound strong, but his voice wavered.

Repeater raised an eyebrow. “Ya sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Good then. Squad, ah need smokes prepped, on mah count we’ll throw them out into the trench. Once the smokes thick enough ah want all ah the horns that we got ta put up a shield between that machine gun and the first dugout. Everypony save the MG, me, and Hack are gonna run down that trench full bore and charge that first dugout. Trench and Eagle are on point. Ya’ll better make it quick, cause every second in the trench could get ya killed. Ya’ll clear?" Trench nodded along with the rest of them, but inside he was begging himself not to go up front.

His mind may not have been willing, but his hooves shuffled dutifully, carrying him up to the front of the stack. Just a foot away was the corner, the corridor that death would come whistling through and the gauntlet he would have to run. Ponies shuffled into place behind him, but the only one that he saw was Eagle, trotting up alongside with his MMMG in hoove. His face reflected the fear that Trench felt only too well. Trench looked away to the corner.

“Trench, get out your mirror so ya can tell us if our smokes are workin’,” Repeater ordered. Trench reached into his saddlebag and snagged the mirror out, and slid it over his bayonet. Cautiously he angled his gun and began to edge it forward, out around the corner of the trench. He focused on the mirror. He could see the sky reflected, still hazy brown with the dirt, and with a turn of his wrist saw the floor of the trench, still littered with bodies. He tilted it slightly back, and could see down the trench. At the end was a small black hole, no doubt where the gun was located.

“Ready.” Trench said, despite how he wasn’t.

“On three.” Repeater said. “One-“

In the reflection of the mirror Trench saw one of the things come into view along the lip of the trench, preparing to drive across. “Hang on a second, Sergeant,” He said as he kept watching. The front of it pitched down into the trench, and then began to climb the opposing wall until it straddled the trench. With a rhythmic popping Trench saw the dark hole at the end of the corridor flash to life, firing continuously at the leviathan. The box on top of the thing began to turn to face the machine gun, and Trench already knew the outcome. The box stopped, and for a second it didn’t move as the machine gun fired in vain.

The ground shook as the thing fired, and the mirror on the end of Trench’s gun shuddered, blurring the picture. Once it had steadied Trench could see only a cloud of dust where the machine gun had been, the thing already began to move off.

“Trench?” Repeater asked from behind.

“The machine gun’s neutralized,” Trench said.

“Oh, alright then, get a move on.”

Trench grabbed the mirror off of his bayonet and restored it in his saddlebags, then leaned his head around the wall cautiously. The machine gun position was shattered, and nopony was in a position to resist. Trench started around the corner, not quite running, but moving up the corridor as fast as he could while still keeping his MMMG up and ready and avoiding the bodies on the floor. Quickly he made it to the open entrance of the first dugout, starting the stack on the wall just outside while keeping an eye forward on the end of the trench. No Unicornians were coming, not now anyway.

“Just like how were trained, alright everypony?” Repeater said. Trench looked back at the rest of the squad. Cold and Joe had already set up the MG facing down the trench in case reinforcements showed. Eagle, the twins, and Longshot were stacked behind him, with the riflepony’s readying grenades. At the back Repeater, the Specialist, and Hack waited. “Let’s do it,” Repeater said.

The Specialist and Repeater moved up, Repeater grabbing a grenade from his saddlebag. The Specialist trotted right up next to Trench, and pointed the Dragon at the door of the dugout. Trench had never seen it go off in training. The Specialist reached up and turned a knob, and a small fire lit below the nozzle. He reached for the trigger and pulled down.

A brilliant orange flame shot out of the nozzle front and through the doorway, the heat of hit hitting Trench like a furnace, and the smoke that came off of it stinging his nostrils. Trench looked transfixed at the intensity of the flame, and almost as soon as it had started it was snuffed out. From inside the dugout he heard frantic yelling, and at least one high pitched scream.

“YA’LL GIVE UP!?” Repeater yelled. The Specialist backed off as the Sergeant took his place, brandishing a grenade in his hoof as he called out. The yelling inside the dugout continued. “YA’LL SURRENDER?!” Repeater called again.

A grenade sailed out of the entrance and bounced off the wall with a thud, landing on the ground at Trenches hooves. Trench looked at the small black sphere with sheer terror. His legs that so dutifully moved him forward despite what his brain said now stayed immobile despite the death that sat inches away. ‘Celestia, I’m dead.’
The grenade glowed green, and promptly threw itself back into the dugout, exploding with a loud bang and a shower of dust through the entrance into the trench. Trench was still looking at the ground where it had come from when he felt a tap on his back. He looked behind him at Repeater and the rest of the rifleponys, all standing with grenades at the ready. Repeater nodded at his grenade, then at Trenches saddlebag.

Trench took the hint and grabbed for a grenade, his hooves trembling slightly after his near brush with death. He fished it out, and heard a chorus of metallic “Shink”s behind him. As the rifleponys threw their grenades through the door he brought his up to his mouth and bit down on the pin, yanking it free. The latch flew off and ricocheted off the trench wall, hitting him in the cheek as he chucked his grenade into the dugout. He readied his MMMG and waited as the twins behind him put a small shield up over the entrance. There was a bang, then another, then three in rapid succession.

After the last one Trench would go in, and finally do the job that he had been training for since basic. Close up room clearing. His MMMG was topped off, 50 rounds at the ready, the dirty 18-inch bayonet sharpened. He managed to clear the course in basic in 19 seconds, so he knew that he could do it. But he didn’t want to kill if he didn’t have to. He made up his mind on what he was going to do, and the last grenade went off in the dugout. The twins dissipated their shield, and with that Trench turned the corner and went through the dugout entrance, bringing his MMMG up to bear.

“SURRENDER!” he yelled out, as his eyes took in the information. The dugout was slightly bigger than the one that they had, the right half of burning from the Dragon. Smoke and dirt from the Dragon and the grenades obscured his vision, but in the orange light of the flames he could see a bundle of unicorns lying on the floor under a shield, and another few lying at the side wall. He couldn’t tell how many there were, or which ones were dead or not, but he knew where they were.

In the main group the shield over them dissipated. “SURRENDER!” he yelled again. A few of them turned their heads over to him, and immediately reached for their weapons on the ground. Trench saw as the one closest to him grabbed up a rifle in hoof and began to pick it up.Trench moved his hoof a quarter inch backward and the MMMG rattled in his hoofs, a quick five round burst into the first Unicornian, who slumped over. “SURRENDER!!” he yelled out, louder this time. He hoped that that would take the wind out of them.

The others in that group kept reaching to their weapons on the floor unfazed, and at least three in the corner began to stir. The ones in the main group began to grab their rifles as well. Trench could see better now, there were four of them left in the group. They were all going at once.

Trench pulled the trigger again, and held it this time, sweeping the MMMG over the group. Through the flashing of the gun and the dust and the smoke Trench could see the Unicornians bodies shudder under the rapid impacts of the bullets. He let off the trigger and swung the gun around to the three on the wall. “SURRENDER!!!”

The three that he leveled his gun at froze in mid motion, one reaching for a rifle on the ground before arresting his hoof. Trench took the time in the pause to aim fully, completing the picture with the one that reached for the rifle. “Give it up,” he said, softer now.

One of the ponies in the group that he doused with bullets had survived, his sobs and screams of pain alerting Trench. Trench didn’t let it distract him from the three in front of him. If they didn’t move, he wouldn’t have to kill them, and three survivors would be better than none. “Spread your hooves on the floor, and don’t go near that gun.” Trench ordered, silently pleading for compliance. The ponies by the wall obliged, spreading their hooves out where he could see them and not reaching for the rifle.

There was only one rifle on the ground between the three ponies, and the one closest to it already had blood matted against his grey fur indicating injury. They didn’t have grenades, a small relief based on the stories that he had been told. As the sobbing continued in the background the bloody pony glanced over to the rifle on the ground. “Don’t even think about it,” Trench said, leaning forward and tensing up on the trigger. The pony looked away.

“HEY PARTNER, YA DONE IN THERE?” Repeater yelled through the dugout entrance.

“YEAH, I GOT THREE PRISONERS AND ONE WOUNDED! SEND HACK IN!” Trench answered.

“ARE YOUR PRISONERS DISARMED?” Repeater called back.

Trench nodded to noone. “YEAH!”

Then he noticed a faint blue glow coming off of the bloody unicorn’s horn, the unicorns eyes looking toward the pile of corpses in the center of the dugout. Trench followed his gaze and saw a rifle bathed in the faint light. He looked back at the unicorn, who looked right back at him. Trench opened his mouth. “Don’t-“

The Unicornian went for it, the rifle picking itself up and twisting through the air to face him. Trench pulled on the trigger, and the bullets hammered home, each one smashing through the Unicornian before him. The rifle fell to the floor as the glow was snuffed out of the unicorns horn. The MMMG stopped firing, but Trenches hoof was still tight on the trigger.

“TRENCH!!!” Repeater yelled from outside, Trench heard movement from out there as he spun the MMMG and pulled the bolt back. He was out. On the ground before him the last two unicorns got to their hooves, one with horn aglow as he levitated the closest rifle up to him. the other went for his nearest weapon as well, grabbing up a spear and mounting it to charge. Help was seconds away, but death was considerably closer.

Trench charged first, closing the few feet between him and the pony with the rifle before he could properly shoulder it. Trench could see the fear in the unicorn’s eyes as he brought the 18-inch bayonet up to bear. Trench didn’t thrust forward into the unicorns flesh though, instead knocking the unicorns rifle sideways and down into the dirt with the blade, then swinging the stock into the unicorns face. He heard the crunch as the wood connected with the unicorns jaw and flinched on his behalf. The unicorn with the rifle fell out of the way.

The unicorn with the spear charged forward, and Trench just had enough time to swing his gun back, deflecting the spear with the stock of his rifle. He continued the movement, the bayonet cutting into the unicorns shoulder before he could back off. “CELESTIA! GIVE UP!!!” Trench yelled out in desperation. The spear-wielding unicorn glanced at his wound, and then looked back up at Trench with rage, and with a wild yell he charged forward again. Trench readied to block again.

He saw a glint of steel from out of the corner of his eye, and then his vison was filled with flame. With a loud “BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM” a machine gun fired from right next to him, the bullets cutting into the charging unicorn’s chest. The unicorn stumbled fell, sliding to the ground at Trench’s hooves. Trench glanced at the one with the rifle, which lay out on the floor immobile, and then turned to the pony over his shoulder.

Eagle Eyes stood next to him, thin whisps of smoke from his MMMG mingling with the smoke from the fire. Eagle looked vacantly at the body in front of them, slowly inhaling and exhaling as if he had run a marathon. Seeing this made Trench realize how he was out of breath too. The adrenaline was coursing through him, and his lungs couldn’t get enough good air to replenish his aching muscles.

The dugout still crackled with the dying flames that the dragon gave out, and above their heavy breathing they could hear a diminutive sobbing. “ARE YA’LL CLEAR NOW?!” Repeater yelled from outside.

“YEAH!” Trench answered wearily. He looked over the scene. On the right the flames had died down enough for him to see that there were some charred corpses which he quickly averted his eyes from. In the center of the room were 4 bullet riddled bodies. Another one lay against the left hand wall, near the pony that Trench knocked out, which brought them back to the one that lay at their hooves.

“They just didn’t give up,” he said finally, deciding that the best place to look was up.

“I guess not,” Eagle answered, still looking at his kill on the ground.

“I tried to get them to stop, but they didn’t. I must have told them five times. I didn’t want to kill them, they just didn’t give me a choice,” Trench said. Eagle nodded with a detached, slow bob of his head, still engrossed in the body.

“This was my first one,” He said. Trench glanced over. Celestia, he had only made his first kill just minutes ago, but already seemed like a veteran in comparison. “I think that I’ll just spot for the rest of the war,” Eagle finished. “If I don’t have to then I don’t think I want to.”

“Ok,” Trench said. He was all too familiar with the feeling.

“Hey, ya’ll comin’ back out?”

“Yeah!” Trench said, facing back to the bright entrance and the silhouette of the stenson that was framed by it. “Send Hack down though, two injuries!” He looked back over at Eagle. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, let’s-“ Eagles sentence ended as he looked past Trench and his eyes widened in terror. Trench turned quickly. The unicorn that Trench thought was unconscious was now standing up, rifle in hoof and aimed at Eagle. Blood dripped freely from the pony’s slack and shattered jaw, and his eyes burned with vengeance as he put his hoof through the triggerguard. Trench immediately went for his gun as Eagle stood still, wide-eyed and immobile. The unicorn pulled the trigger.

There was a loud “BOOM” and Trench instantly ducked around the corner from the unicorn and looked over to Eagle. Eagle still stood immobile, eyes frozen on the unicorn, shocked. ‘Oh Celestia no, not Eagle’ Trench pleaded. A sudden scream of pain filled the dugout, but it didn’t come from Eagle. Eagle looked down at his chest for wounds, but there weren’t any. Eagle hadn’t been hit. There was another scream, piercing his eardrums and into his soul, from inside the dugout. Trench looked around the corner cautiously at what had happened.

The unicorn lay out on the floor, hooves covering his bloody face as he cried out in agony. On the ground next to him was the rifle, the barrel split open like a banana peel, shattering the wood. Trench trotted closer. The rifle was missing its bolt. Suddenly Trench connected the dots. “Celestia.” He looked at the Unicornian.

The right half of his face had been ripped off, the bolt of the rifle laying on the ground next to him, ragged flesh still attached to it. “WHAT WAS THAT?!” Repeater yelled in frantically. Trench was at a loss for words, Eagle too. “TRENCH! EAGLE!, ARE YALL ALRIGHT!!” Trench looked back out the entrance, Repeater was looking down at them, and even though trench couldn’t see his face in the light he knew it was concerned.

“Yeah! Trench said. “We’re fine, one of the Unicornians tried to pull a rifle on us, but it blew up in his hooves!”

“For Celestia’s sake, are you finally clear down there!?”

“Yes, send Hack!” the silhouette of the medic appeared in the entrance and Hack quickly came down next to them.

“Two injuries,” Trench said as he pointed them out, “him and him.”

“Celestia,” Hack said as he approached the screaming Unicornian. He levitated a syringe out of his bag and injected him, quieting the Unicornian, then went to his work. Eagle still had yet to move.

“Eagle, you okay?” Trench asked.

“He was aiming right at me,” Eagle said, looking at the Unicornian that Hack was working on. “I didn’t even notice him until he had me. I should be dead.” He paused for a second. “This was divine intervention.”

“What?” Trench said, a little surprised by the proclamation.

“Celestia, or someone, blew up that pony’s rifle and saved my life. Rifles don’t just explode.”

Trench thought for a minute. Rifles don’t just explode, unless…

“I knocked it into the dirt, it must have plugged the barrel,” Trench said. He grinned a little at Eagle. “What did you say that your original name was? Lucky?”
Eagle nodded wearily as Hack finished up bandaging the first Unicornian and moved over to the second. Hack looked over the silently sobbing unicorn for a moment, then levitated out a syringe of morphine, injected him then turned away.

“Aren’t you going to do anything else?” Trench asked.

“That’s all I can do,” Hack answered quietly. Trench’s grin, however brief, ran away from his face. Eight ponies when he entered the room, one when he left. Hack went for the entrance, and Trench and Eagle followed behind, leaving the dead behind them.

Trench trotted into the offensive morning light, far brighter than the orange flame in the dugout, and held a hoof up over his eyes. The sound of hoof beats echoed up and down the trench as equestrian reinforcements streamed past them.

“Partner, next time ya go in there ya better make darn sure that whatever prisoners ya think that ya got are complyin’. Ah’ve dealt with them before, and they don’t like givin’ up. Ya’ll ‘bout killed me when Ah heard that rifle go off and ya didn’t answer.” Trench looked over at Repeater, the rest of the squad was resting up against the wall.

“Understood Sergeant,” he said with a tired nod. Repeater leaned in and lowered his voice.

“Are ya doin’ okay Trench? Ya we’re pretty shaken up earlier.”

Trench nodded. He was lying of course. He wasn’t fine. He had just gunned down six ponies. But he could operate, and that was more than he could have said five minutes ago.

“Any orders, Sergeant?”

“Dig in right here with the rest of us. Orders are that once we clear a dugout we dig in hard on it in case of a counterattack. All these other colts will keep on the offensive. Oh, Hack, make yourself useful and see if anypony needs help.”

As Hack trotted off Trench decided that it was best not to argue. If they didn’t have to step another yard west for the rest of the battle he would be more than glad. He stacked up along the wall and out of the way of the streaming reinforcements and took a good look at his MMMG. The dirty blade had dark dried blood running along the edge from where he sliced at the Unicornian.

He looked up at the rising sun back east, just clearing the spires of Canterlot in the far distance. For the second time since he had left the trenches in the early hours of the morning he felt safe. It was a strange feeling now, the adrenaline that still coursed through him was wasted.

Cold and Joe were removing the machine gun from its saddle mount, setting it up on a tripod so they could deploy it against the fort that was up north. The others in the group simply rested. It wasn’t quiet. He could still hear bursts of machine gun fire and the far off firecracker bang of grenades, but it didn’t seem that loud. Not as loud as it had been. Something was missing.

It made him uneasy. Not that he would like whatever wasn’t gracing them with its presence to come back, but he still couldn’t put a hoof on what had changed. He looked over at the rest of the ponies. Cold and Joe had finished setting up, and now sat down as well.

“Everypony topped off?” Repeater asked calmly. Most everypony else nodded, but Trench remembered the empty magazine that his MMMG had. He hit the release and started swapping the magazines out.

The break in the battle gave him time to think, and he wasn’t sure that that was what he wanted right now. Thinking about the mage, thinking about the dugout. Even in his field of vision lay dead Unicornian bodies, but he didn’t focus on them, looking instead at the guns actions very intently. It was better to think about other things.

What was going to happen next? As of now, they had traded one trench for a different one, one that was only seven miles further from Canterlot. Were they just going to stop here for another year? He finished reloading. He wouldn’t know the answers, so it was pointless to ask the questions anyway.

Looking back at the squad he could see that the twins had their rifles propped up so that their bayonets peeked over the trench wall. They had their trench mirrors attached, and the twins were looking up at the sheets of glass intently, almost in puzzlement.

“What are you looking at?” Trench asked, fishing for conversation. The twins answered in their usual way, simultaneously.

“The contraptions.”

“The fortress.”

Trench had to choose which one to follow, but before he could Longshot jumped in. “What can you tell us about that fortress?”

“A lot of machine gun slits; it looks like it’s made of hardened concrete. I don’t know how we would get in.”

“Any cover between here and there?”

“Not much friend, a few craters and that’s all there is.”

“How much do you want to bet that before the day ends we attack it?” Eagle said. He had gotten right back into his sour mood.

“Calm down, Eagle,” Longshot said. “I wouldn’t bet much. It sounds like a suicide charge.”

“And?” Eagle said undeterred. “It’s still Unicornian, and if we want to hold this ground we can’t just let them camp in that bunker. We’re gonna have to flush them out, and that means a lot of us get to charge at it with high hopes and good intentions.” Trench was now only half listening, his mind wandering back to figuring out what made him feel so uneasy.

“That’s what we thought this morning,” Joe said, gracing the conversation with his rare opinion “But we had a plan. If we go at it we’ll have a plan.”

“How about those metal things?” Longshot asked. Trench still was engrossed in his own question. It had to be something.

“Brother?”

“Well brother, after careful observation I’ve determined that they are made of metal.”

“And?” Longshot asked.

“Well, they have to be driven by somepony.”

“Can you tell us something that we don’t know?” Eagle said snappishly.

“It has a big cannon on it!”

The sentence thrust the answer to Trench’s question straight into his mind, and Trench looked over quickly. “Where’s the artillery?”

“Pardon?”

“What?”

“What happened to the artillery?” Trench asked excitedly. “When was the last time any of you saw a shell land?”

“Why would there be any artillery?” Longshot asked. “if our guns were shooting they’d probably be more of a threat to us than the Unicornians.”

Trench shook his head. “Not ours, theirs! when was the last time they’ve shot at us?”

The twins looked at each other, then back at him, sharing the same confusion that the squad now had. “A few minutes at least.”

Trench shook his head. “They should be shelling the hay out of us now, right?”

“Yes.”

“Why aren’t they shelling us?"