Firebase Bravo (Stalliongrad Main Hub)

"There, you happy?" Kestrel asked after the song had finished. Well...that was that done. Hopefully. Though knowing Trails he was going to ask for something more. Or drink more Beer. Or pass out.

That last bit would be nice.

"Why of course I am Happy, who else would I be?" Trails was suddenly very confused by Kestrel.

Did the stallion look any different? Had he undergone some sort of transformation under the moon's silvery glow? Was he perhaps, by some cruel twist of fate, a werepony? Or maybe it was just the helmet, it was new after all, perhaps the gryphon had yet to adjust. As such he removed it to show them his uncovered face.

"See?"

Kestrel just shook his head and didn't bother with an explanation. No real point in it all. Trails was drunk after all. Kestrel would probably have more luck teaching the nearby beer bottles how to sing in harmony and create the wastelands first beer bottle tabernacle choir.

Oh how the drunkards would rejoice.

Back in the land of serious things Kestrel had looked over at the only other one in the area he might have a chance at getting some help with. Brutus. The ice wolf had done good by Kestrel thus far, and by that it is meant that Brutus left Kestrel alone and did nothing to get in his way.

Damn good dog.

"Wanna help? I'll pay in steak." Kestrel asked silently, his masked eyes staring the question at the wolf.

Brutus looked up at the large gryphon and started thinking how the fuck he was going to respond. Well, if Trails had taught him how to write he'd start scratching letters into the snow. But his master had decided his time would be better spent hitting on nurses in the MASH tent so that wasn't an option. He could try and mime it out, but no doubt they'd find everything lost in translation. In the name of Fenrir what the fuck was he meant to do? Dammit, hopefully the drunk bastard would be able to accidentally translate.

"Tell your friend that I'll catch you if he's able to get you to sleep." he barked.

"Wasssat?" Trails slurred. "What do you mean you'll catch me if he gets me to sleep? Do you think you'll be able to get him to sing hush now quiet now."

Kestrel nodded. Ah, so that was the deal? Fair enough. Now, how to go about getting the pony to drop without just reaching over and choking him until he slipped under.

For some reason Kestrel doubted that would go well.

Well that left only one other way that Kestrel could think of. Drug the stallion. The big griffon MIGHT have borrowed a few doses of anesthetic from the hospital when he had been healing Trails up.

Moving over to the cooler Kestrel grabbed a beer and popped the top, without notice and using his bottle as a shield Kestrel filled the drink with what he thought was a hearty does of the stuff...and by that it is meant the griffon used ALL of the anesthetic he could.

Should be enough.

Wordlessly the griffon walked back and offered the stallion a beer. "Here, even popped the top for you" He said, holding his own in his free talon; popping its cap off a moment later.

"Awww thanksh man." Trails slurred as he took the drugged bottle. "Need to keep my buzz going y'know." He titlted his head back and downed the entire bottle in one gulp, looking fine for now. "Kesh, we shhould go to a shtrip club! Hear me out, there'sh bound to be a few gryphonesshessheshsh too with all the talonsh in this place. And...Kesh i feel funny." and with that the stallion fell like an ungraceful sack of potatoes onto Brutus' waiting back. The wolf shook his head and looked up at Kes, his expression asking 'what now'.

"Back to Chapel, I'll get your steak there." Kestrel said, nodding to the big wolf; standing up and grabbing his things a moment later. He'd wait till Brutus was ready, then head off towards the aforementioned location.

Brutus shrugged and waltzed off to the chapel, doing his best not to cause his master to tumble off into the snow. He didn't really care about the steak, he ate more than his fill of red meat whenever he damn well pleased. But he couldn't really tell the gryphon that what he'd much rather have was a new squeak toy. Maybe when Trails woke up he could relay it for him. Oooh maybe he could get a conch toy filled with peanut butter, that'd be real nice.

The firebase settled down for the night, falling still for all but the night patrols. The searchlights scanned the pitch black night sky while the radio sang to the bored soldiers at their posts. The war was at its quietest now, while everyone licked their wounds and drank away whatever emotional trauma they'd racked up for the day.

This of course was only a calm before the terrifying storm of the Enclave arrived. Everyone knew what was about to happen, their was no mistaking the inevitable when it stared you in the face. For better or worse, Bravo was the final thing standing between the power armored horde of the wicked, and the Stable of Stalliongrad. The radio fell silent for moment, bringing the attention of everypony to it.

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"My brothers, my sisters, children of Luna." The voice of Snowflame came from the speakers. "We all know that tonight we stare into the maw of the wicked, our mettle will be tested soon, and many of us wont see another night. So as you ready yourselves to meet our holy mother, remember your virtues, remember your sins, and most of all, remember your Mother's love."

Brass flicked off the radio and looked at his squad of recruits. "Whatever your reasons for being here, our time together's near its end. You've all picked up a few new scars in your time of service, and though you may not be Apostol, even those of you who share blood with our enemies, have earned my respect." He snapped a salute to them all. "I'm proud of you all, but for now we need you to show us all your strength. This," He patted a machine gun the size of a stallion and smiled to his squad, "is a DSKA, or dishka. This lovely little piece of death is going to be your best friend when those tin cans with wings come round. If their plasma rifles are an Ice Wolf, then these are Star Spawn. Fire in 5 round bursts, two every ten seconds, and you'll find your target going down in a stream of crimson." He charged the machine gun and let a burst fly down range. A barrel exploded into a shower of shrapnel. "Now that's sexy."

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Grace finished slipping into her Combat Medic's uniform and turned to address the MASH as a whole.

"Well my little ponies, this is it." she said nervously. "I'm not really one for speeches, you all know that, so let's just remember our virtue: charity. Soldiers out there need us to be our best in the absolute worst moments of their lives. So no matter how bad it gets, keep your smiles warm, and you hearts tender. Even more than our medicine they need our compassion."

Finished with her best attempt at a 'rousing speech' she trotted over to her volunteer medics and smiled. "I think your friends would appreciate seeing you in the trenches with them more than some random Chaplain. So that's where you're going, thank you all for all you're help."

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Trails lit a smoke as he shook off the mixture of hangover and anesthesia wear off. Nothing out of the ordinary then. He slumped out of his bed and scratched Brutus' ears on his way of of the barracks. Vityaz sat checking their gear in the common room, just business as usual.

"Y'all ready?"

The veterans chorused "Eeyup."

"Then let's go."

Dash rolled his eyes when Brass said that their final assignment was coming up soon, "About damn time..." Dash whispered to himself. He continued watching diligently as much as he always had, like when his father trained him. He had most of his combat training from him, it wasn't all that much, but when the need had arisen, Wraith Bolt had taught Dash as much as he could about military tactics and discipline. However, something he had been warned about was placing too much loyalty where it didn't belong. Dash wasn't stupid enough to trust his life to the clearly racist AL soldier.

Dash watched as Brass demonstrated the 'Dishka' as it was called. Dash had never seen such a weapon, but it seemed to be similar to other guns somewhat, adjusting to it looked easy enough. He actually slightly winced when he saw the rounds explode into shrapnel. Any Pegasus caught in that was as good as dead.

Ale stood near the front of the group as brass demonstrated their scary new gun. "Where the buck was this thing earlier?" He wondered, the prescience of the bandages under his armor becoming more noticeable for a moment. Ah well the guns was here now and the enclave where about to have a very bad day, or a good day depending on how effective they where in actual combat, after all he didn't see that barrel fight back with plasma weaponry. Still the dishka was a frightful firearm and made ale's hunting rifle feel like an Appleseed shooter in comparison. "YES SIR!" ale said in agreement to brass comment.

Bone head was fresh out of the MASH so he wasn't in any particular hurry to get to the next missions briefing. "Fucking flying ponies." he muttered under his breath as he recalled the last encounter with the enclave. He'd never seen the solider that took him down. All he remembered was the freak snow storm, the ungodly amount of pain that struck him, and barely seeing the enclave retreat into the whiteness before blacking out.

Bone head got to the others just in time for brass's speech and the show of firepower. Bone smiled, "at least the others will have some fun." he thought, his knowledge of guns was...sub par. he'd have to engage the enclave in the sky with his trusty... Shit Lil miss was still broken, his time in the MASH ment that he never got a chance to get his weapons fixed. Bone head sighed, Guess i'll be using one of them dishkas as well"

Trails finished his cig and tossed the butt into the snow. He looked up at the sky, not so much to search for Enclave, more search for what he wanted to say. Here he was at the threshold of the end, something had to be said. Right? The words weren't coming though, maybe the time for words had already passed and it was time for action.

"Alright," The big stallion said to his squad, "while everypony else is holding the line, we've got a job of our own. We need to get as deep into Enclave territory we can, and set off a little bomb the Chaplains made for us.

"We'll have three minutes to put as much distance between ourselves and it as we can before it goes off. Naturally I have a plan." Trails knelt down and started drawing diagrams in the snow with a forehoof. "This right here is the Milk Run, our furthest front, and this here is the edge of our weapon ranges, so it's the most likely place for Enclave drops. That's our target zone. About 10 blocks away is an old tractor factory, that's where we'll fall back to and seek shelter. Understood?"

The stallion would wait for any questions before pulling down his mask, his voice coming through the filter of its speakers when he spoke again. "Then let's rock and roll."

Scrap nodded as he listened to Trail's plan watching as he drew diagrams in the snow, memorizing what the group were supposed to do. Once Trails finished Scraps piped up, just wanting to know more details so he was clear in everything.

"I've just got one or two questions. First, are we sure we can get out of the blast radius in time? That kinda leads into my second question, do we know what enemies we will be running up against, and in what numbers?"

Kestrel listened to the plan and gave a slow nod, his new armor ready to rock as well as every single weapon he had on him. They'd been cleaned, checked, upgraded, practiced with, and prepared. Now all that was left was to get out to the front and test them out.

The Griffon really didn't like charging the front, but honestly there was very few options. He had his job, he had his orders.

Time to see just what the Enclave could do.

Trails sighed and looked down at Scrap before answering. "Sadly intel is shaky at best here. All the math says if we get to that factory in time we'll be fine. If we stay low and keep moving we'll hopefully only have a light skirmish when we set it off, but expect to find the full force of the Enclave." after a moments pause the stallion added. "I'm not gonna lie there's a chance we wont be walking away from this one, but if you stick close and keep your wits about you, you'll have a better chance than most the stallions on the line."

Scraps nodded to Trails after his questions were answered, and as per the course for him, he immediately assumed that it was gonna be the worst possible thing, so he steeled himself for having to go up against the enclave's main force.

He wasn't super enthused about the whole thing, but what could he do, he had signed up and he wasn't about to go back on that.

(For those unfamiliar with my style, Trails will now be operating as the warden for the remainder of the thread. Read all posts here on for updates.)

Trails spun his twin miniguns up while he waited. He hadn't done any work with the guns since zeroing them for simultaneous firing. They were loaded with rounds custom made for the job of cleaving through the Enclave armor. He couldn't hit as hard as those lucky bucks on dishkas, but he was without a doubt the heavy hitter. He didn't have to wait much longer for the action to start, only minutes later the spotlights began fixing on pegasi in bitch black carapace armor.

A great fwoom roared across the battlefield as an AMR wielding sniper pony took the first shot of the battle. The round went clean through two troopers flying a little too close together, sending them both into a crimson trailed plummit. After that it was on in the fullest sense of the word. Dishkas came to life, their rhythmic chugging combining into one massive noise. AA guns come on next, turning the sky into bursts of light and shrapnel and their thunder giving a deep bass to the symphony of gore being played for everypony tonight. Death had thrown out the silent and creepy approach tonight, trading his scythe for a giant canon that blasted screeching metal. This was death's punk album.

All this happened in the space of a few seconds, and sprung the leader of Vityaz into action. He waved at his squadmates and hopped out of the trenches. They had two clicks of noponies land to cover as soon as possible. Hopefully the bucks on the frontlines would be drawing plenty of heat.

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The volunteer ponies of Stableton were at their Dishkas, their friends in lab coats stood nearby waiting to heal, and if the worst were to happen, comfort them as they died. Their CO was somepony new, Brass had been sent even further forward to help rally those so battle hardened as to earn the suicide mission of stalling the Enclave. The CO was a young and fresh faced unicorn with a dull beige coat. He seemed the kind that would be best suited behind a desk, though that could just be a calm hiding a storm. The AL certainly seemed the type of ponies who would fit that description.

There was little time for chit chat or worried conversation before the power armor menaces began swarming. Automatically the stable ponies would take their positions, ready their massive guns, and open fire. There was no shortage of targets, everything the Enclave had was coming at them. Flares flew into the sky giving them light to shoot by. And so, it was time to unleash every last bit of hell they could muster.

[The dishka is capable of firing two five round bursts a turn. This is enough to kill any enemy without crits, or two with crits. Have fun and don't be afraid to spice things up.]

Ale stood prepared on his dishka, well about as prepared as you could be while awaiting hell itself to come galloping out of the abyss. I won't lie the buck was scared, the entire base was shrouded in unease, this was going to be the longest night in stalliongrad's history. "*Sigh* Get it together gingy." the white unicorn told himself in an attempt to calm his nerves. He stood there watching his breath come out in puffs of steam as he waited, the minutes seems to drag on for days.

The silence was broken by the almighty boom from one of the snipers, hell was here. Ale turned his gun upward and zeroed in on one of the enclave soldiers that was bathed in one of the spotlights. Just before pulling the trigger he noted how the column of light almost made the pegasus look like a dark and tainted angel. "I wonder if that's what the zebras saw them as in the war." The sound of Ale's machine gun coming to life killed his train of thought. He fired one five round burst at his target ready to squeeze out another burst if that proved insufficient. If they went down early then ale had already picked out a secondary target. Hopefully the enclave would be caught off guard. At least for the first volley, after all they didn't know exactly where ale was already, did they?

(Guns- 60, Sneak-49: Firing 1-2 burst at enclave soldier, if he falls to the first burst then change targets.)

Kestrel double checked all his gear on last time before pulling him up and following after Trails at top speed. He was a big target, and there was of a lot of ground to cover between him and his destination. The fury of the guns and the sounds of war made a good tempo though, a cadence that all could hear and understand.

Was it fate or perhaps just coincidence that Kestrel's foot falls seemed to match the beginnings of the bursts from the DSHK's in the trenches? Each foot fall signalling another volley from one the batteries. It lasted those first few hundred yards, the synchronization of flesh and war, but trailed off soon as Kestrels foot falls and the roar of the guns went their seperate ways.

The griffon never really noticed the sync, probably never would. He was to far focused on the path ahead and staying alive at the moment. Dodging what fire he could where he could, and keeping up a hard pace.

(AP spent dodging, until we run into any issues.)

Scraps wasted absolutely no time in following Kes and Trails, keeping his head low and moving at maximum speed amd for once in his life, being entirely happy about his small stature-less of him meant less of a target, especially when compared to the much larger targets of Kes amd Trails.

(Using all AP to dodge if need be.)

Blitz eyed the DSKAs with a bit of disinterest before he prepared to use one, looking over to others before he got the sights aligned and was ready. "Ugh, I'd rather go tackling them hoof to hoof..." He said glumly, not even bothering to aim as he pointed and fired, targetting as much of a cluster as he could by sweeping both bursts across them. This was just desperate, using huge machineguns on simple troopers, it wasn't manly either, it just continued being a desperate push for supremacy by throwing these guns into the fore.

(Guns 21, firing two bursts across as many troopers as possible.)

Bone head was not happy to be holding that gun in his talons. He never liked guns, he much preferred to engage with his enemy in melee but seeing as how his weapons were broken and the amount of lead being thrown into the air, the griffin was grounded, using a gun he had no idea how to operate. "I hate stalliongrad." he grunted as the fighting started. Turning his dishka skyward, he pulled the trigger, adding his tracers to the night sky with the rest of the bullets.

(Firing dishka at anything I can hit, guns-23)