Author's Note
William here, and a good day to you all! Sorry for a lack of updating ASR, but I've had little to no time to actually write, and I've been figuring out how I want to rewrite the story.
On a personal note, I'm posting this in honour of my recent promotion to Corporal, and the fact that I go to Band and Drill Competition today. So drink up the Shadow filled chapter I've got for you! I'll try to get back into the swing of things with writing, so I can finally finish ASR and then FINALLY finish ASV and bring the story arc to a close.
Thanks,
William Sable
Chapter 19: The Call of Duty
The whisper of the wind past the window was like the laughter of fate, cackling at the misfortunate colt. As Shadow stared glumly out the window, his face blank like a sheet of fresh paper, he contemplated what he would do next. His life had no shortage of excitement, but now it lacked the one thing he had found, and the one thing he had somehow managed to lose. The winds of fate had taken him astray from the course he had plotted. The plan had seemed so simple and straight forward, but had fallen apart rapidly.
Shifting in his seat, the colt heard the sound of approaching hooves. He ignored it, still lost in thought.
"Sir, I don't mean to bother you, but are you the Hotshot?"
Shadow turned, and glanced at the mare that now stood beside the seat he was in.
"I suppose I am, Miss," Storm replied with a weak smile.
"Oh! Is Soarin' here? I'd love to get his autograph."
"No miss, just myself," Shadow stated with a sigh, staring back at the window.
"Oh... okay," was the depressed answer.
The sound of hooves shuffling on the floor boards was all Shadow needed to know that he was now alone. Nopony really cared too much about him. He was the drummer of the band, in Air Force terms.
"Although, I played alto-sax last time I was in band…" Shadow murmured to himself, chuckling slightly, before feeling another wave of sadness roll over him.
Time flew at the same speed Shadow could, racing past him ever faster and faster. As the mountains and forests rolled past him at breakneck speed, all he could think about was her. As the world darkened and sleep began to grasp at Shadow, he murmured to himself.
'Shadow… you idiot…'
A screech of brakes woke Storm abruptly. Looking out the window, he now found the environment surrounding the train to be much different. Instead of hills, forests and mountains, there was nothing but auburn and golden fields, stretching to the horizon and beyond. The fields were dotted by tents and other manmade structures, surrounded by dots that Shadow knew were GIs and Officers.
Standing up, Storm grabbed the bag he had with him and threw it over his back. The train car was now all but deserted, and Shadow moved unhindered to the door. Fixing his tie and straightening his epaulets, Shadow stood next to the door composing himself. Love, lies and pain could wait, duty called. With a deep breath, Shadow plunged head first through the door, finding himself in a flurry of ponies running around. Weaving through the crowded military train station, Storm exited the crowd, stepping off the platform.
The crunch of dry grassland flora beneath his hooves was refreshing. Marching off with a renewed air of importance, Shadow scanned his surroundings. About three hundred metres away, he spotted it; a large Quonset hut with a large "FCC" painted on the side. Galloping to it, Shadow knocked the door open with his shoulder, plunging into the building without any thought.
The place was even more crowded and packed than the train station. Shadow shirked slightly, as an NCO skirted past Storm with a massive pile of paper levitated in front of him.
"Lieutenant."
"SIR!" Shadow shouted, coming to attention.
A Legionnaire appeared out the crowd, with four golden bars on his BDU. Saluting the officer, Shadow remained at attention stiffly. The Legate moved closer, returning the Lieutenant's salute before nodding with a gruff grunt.
"At ease, relax. Glad to have you here, though I must say it's odd to have such a junior officer leading such a large scale offensive."
"Agreed sir, I didn't chose this posting," Shadow stated with a sigh, "I suppose it's my experience with SOCOM that's somehow put me in charge."
"Yes, I heard. But still, SOCOM, Captain Spitfire, and Colonel Gallop must have all campaigned quite hard to get you here. Well, here you are. Would like a SitRep Lieutenant?"
"Yes sir."
The officer indicated for Shadow to follow, as he headed towards the middle of the building. Weaving between the bustling occupants of the building, Storm found himself standing next to the legate, at a large table with a map pinned across it. In the centre lay Fillydelphia, surrounded by various red chips representing enemy forces. Blue chips to the south west represented their position and forces.
"Recon states that OpFor has two battalions of regulars, supported by the 103rd Para, and a company of engineers. The occupants of the city that weren't evacuated are mostly still inside, though we have noticed some prisoners being taken elsewhere. The south and west flanks are the most heavily defended, with thick walls and fortifications. The engineers have been hard at work trying to get the place ready for any counter attack."
Shadow nodded, taking everything in slowly.
"What does BluFor have going for it?" he asked, stepping towards the table.
"We've got a full regiment of legionnaires, along with the 101st Airborne, naturally, the 227th Airborne and 224th Airborne."
"So as far as numbers go, we have an advantage. But they have a city. This will most likely result in Siege warfare sir."
"I'm fully prepared for a siege. I didn't expect anything else."
Straining is neck forward to peer closer at the table, Shadow scanned the map. This would be a tough battle for sure. There must have been something…
"Wait…" the pegasus murmured, "What's this? The Delawin River?"
The legate stepped towards the table, surveying the map. After a few seconds he snorted in a breath.
"Yes, yes," he said, biting his lip, "It runs right through the town. You have an idea Lieutenant?"
"I do… wait, you said the 101st is here. The whole 101st or just part?"
"Only three spec, the ground crew, and all the regulars."
"That'll do… nicely. Sir, I have an idea. We can breach their defenses no problem."
"Really?" the legate asked, "And how do you intend on doing this?"
"It's all a matter of simple misdirection. Sir, if I may have your leave, I'd like to find my accommodations and attempt to best coagulate my thoughts into a proper battle plan in order to increase inter-branch unit cohesion."
The legate paused, staring at the pegasus as if he had spiders crawling out of his mane.
"Sure, fine, whatever. Dismissed, Lieutenant."
"Thank you sir," Shadow said, saluting.
Soon, the colt left. After asking around, he was finally directed to a tent not far from the Quonset hut. The three man tent apparently already had two residents, though neither was present. Tossing his gear bag on the ground as the olive drab flap shut out the sun, Shadow set to setting up his bedroll. After unfolding the green bedroll, he laid down on it, and pulled out a sheet of paper.
Within minutes, Shadow had a small plan worked out. It was stupid, pointless, and unlikely to work. Exactly what he needed.
With a chuckle to himself, Shadow finished the basic plan and figured out what to do next. Soon, however, his thoughts began to drift. Finally, he pulled out a sheet of paper.
'Now or never, I guess,' he thought, staring at the paper while gnawing at the end of his pen.
Placing pen on paper, he began to write:
"Dear Rainbow Dash…"
