Warhawk

by Moonatik

1 - Conversation

There was once a time when the chamber Selenite sat in was used as a lavish dining hall and the lengthy table she sat at was once used for feasting on extravagant banquets. All around her was evidence of this, in the elaborate bejewelled chandeliers and towering gilded columns leading up to the vaulted ceiling. Yet since the beginning of the Lunar-Crystal war, the whole manor had been transformed into Warmaster Saturn Hawkrich’s headquarters, with the dining hall being converted to a meeting chamber.

Graphs, reports and notes were strewn across the long table at the centre of the room, maps and charts were spread across the polished stone walls; the many murmuring voices of the thirty-odd members of the Lunar War Council echoed from one end of the hall to another. Officers, politicians, high ranking civil servants, even scientists all among them, each intended to represent a different expertise that would be valuable to maintaining the war effort. All the ponies from the military appropriately wore military uniforms, varying in colour depending on branch but matching in their form-fitting style along with silver pipings around the edges and up the stiff collars.

Selenite herself was one such General, as commander of the Fourth Army. At the moment she was in conversation with the pony seated next to her, General Midnight Blossom, discussing frontline logistics. She had a neat stack of documents in front of her, with a notebook at her hooves and a pen at the ready. While she’d been at meetings like this dozens of times before and had no trouble presenting herself professionally, she felt a tense stiffness run up her back. It was hard not to feel tense, given the gravity of the discussion, who was currently in attendance and who was soon to be in attendance.

At the head of the table sat Warmaster Saturn Hawkrich himself. Tall and amazingly fit for his age, the quinquagenarian thestral had slicked his well-groomed greyed mane back with the sandy-tan of his coat contrasting firmly against his blue and silver uniform. He kept his head up high, as if to show off that rapier-sharp jawline of his that looked strong enough to cut glass.

Before the onset of the New Lunar Millennium, Hawkrich’s only experience with warfare was as an amateur historian specialising in military history. Naturally, some may have questioned Nightmare Moon’s decision to appoint him as her Warmaster, but given his extensive networking, experience in leadership, and stacks of resources, there was no better choice at the time. The naysayers were silenced as Hawkrich’s accomplishments piled up over the last three years. He’d led the Lunar forces to total victory against the Celestial Loyalists, oversaw the internal monster hunting campaign, and masterminded the triumph over Chrysalis’s changeling armies.

Only recently had he hit a snag. The war against Sombra had consumed far more ponies, equipment, and time than he’d anticipated.

It didn't help that Sombra returned whilst the bulk of the Imperial Lunar Army was finishing off the changelings. Nor that the failure of Hawkrich's initial offensive against Sombra stained his near-spotless reputation like oil.

Opposite the Warmaster at the other end of the table, a tall, elaborately carved wooden chair loomed over the council, easily big enough that any normal pony in the room would sink into its cushion. Obviously, it was reserved for Empress Nightmare Moon, who was absent from the meeting as her escort was ambushed by Sombra’s forces on her way to Whinnyapolis. However, the escort had arrived in Whinnyapolis just fine, minus one Empress. The Empress herself had gotten carried away and went on an extended rampage against the attackers. The arriving escort added that the Empress didn’t want the War Council to wait for her to start the meeting, not when she had to, quote, “finish crushing those ambushers into the dirt”.

A sharp clink echoed through the chamber as Hawkrich tapped a spoon against a champagne glass, prompting the members of the War Council to direct their attention to Hawkrich. “As Warmaster of the Lunar Empire, I call this meeting to order!” he proclaimed. He spoke much like a member of Canterlot high society, but carried a subdued shrillness common to northern thestral accents.

Hawkrich sat, but kept his chin up with his wings slightly outstretched. “Now, let us begin with the state of the war. It should be obvious to everypony in this room that the current conduct of this campaign has lacked central coordination. To be frank, each of you has forgone joint operations in favour of your own approach.”

Eyes around the room darted from one pony to another. As awkward as it was to admit, nopony could really deny it. Given how quick and relatively one-sided the wars against the Celestials and Chrysalis were, complacency had set in amongst Lunar command that left them unprepared to face the tough resistance of Sombra’s Empire.

Hawkrich continued. “We’ve seen the results. Our forces have struggled to make much, if any, headway against Sombra’s army despite our numerical and technological superiority. What I intend to accomplish with this meeting is the reaffirmation of a common doctrine and assuring maximum coordination across the whole front. Don’t worry, I’m not going to invent a new military science on the spot and demand that you follow it. Simply, I direct that you all should go back to basics and follow our tested and established doctrine.”

Interest around the room increased. A few ponies shuffled in their seats, leaning closer to Hawkrich. But for Selenite, her guts immediately knew that something was off. Ears forward and pen to notebook, she focused her undivided attention on Hawkrich.

“Our doctrine makes use of not only our physical weapons but psychological weapons! We warp the enemy’s perception of the battlefield by ruthlessly pushing our advantages, thus leading them to think they are facing an overwhelming foe,” Hawkrich summarised. “By hitting enemy command and control nodes and troop concentrations with a never-ending barrage of fires, neither the soldiers nor the commanders get a moment of rest. Should they somehow find sleep, our oneiromancers harass their dreams. By the time we attack, best case scenario they’ll be too scared to fight and worst case scenario they’ll be too tired to aim their rifle properly.”

Selenite knew their established doctrine like the back of her hoof, she was there when it was devised. Heck, she wrote some of the passages! She also knew that if the doctrine was going to work, the war would be over by now. A quick glance around the room and at the few ponies with raised eyebrows or uneasy postures showed her that she wasn’t alone in that thought. She made sure to note Hawkrich’s mention of psychological weapons.

Hawkrich continued. “To this end, whole artillery divisions have been assembled and are in the process of being assigned to your commands. Their full combined might will have the capacity to launch three-million shells in a twenty-four hour period. Productionwise, we have a steady stream of shells and guns with more than enough output to meet our needs as well as enough surplus production to effectively react to any surprises.”

No issues there, Selenite thought. She’d looked into production reports and had rarely dealt with ammunition shortages in her part of the front. The industrial capacity of one of Manehattan’s boroughs alone would humiliate the meagre, ancient industry of the Crystal Empire.

“In terms of air power, more than half of our infantry are winged and we possess advanced, modern aircraft. The opportunities this brings in regards to carrying out aerial reconnaissance and delivering air support should be obvious to all of you. Sombra’s centres of operation will be located from above, and the assaults on these positions will be supported from above. Now, disregarding a few captured pegasi, thestrals, and anti-air batteries, Sombra,” Hawkrich paused for effect, “does not have an air force.”

A few ponies around the room chuckled at Hawkrich’s comment about Sombra not having an air force. Selenite wasn’t one of them, instead sitting still and noting down Hawkrich’s key points. The point itself was certainly true, but still, the skies were hardly clear.

“In total, we have absolute superiority with regard to technology, trained personnel, industry, and reconnaissance. We should make utmost use of our advantages by administering overwhelming force. If this strategic framework is implemented with no delays, the war should be over before Sombra wises up to the fact that he is fighting a modern war in the Lunar millennium. Now!” Hawkrich clapped his hooves. “Does anypony have anything to add?”

A few things, Selenite thought, but a quick look around the table showed that nopony else was taking the chance to speak. Or at the very least they were taking their time. Or decided this was the perfect time to practise their miming skills. There was a lot Selenite had to say, but she knew she couldn’t get it all out at once. Perhaps a solid dose of honesty would work best to start? Then she could make a modest point, before working her way to the root problems. Gathering her courage, Selenite motioned forwards. “Excuse me, Warmaster?”

“Yes, General Selenite!” Hawkrich bellowed, leaning in Selenite’s direction. “What is it?”

“You’ve presented a very good framework for fighting a conventional army,” she said, sitting up straighter.

Hawkrich’s grin grew broader.

“However, and with all due respect…” Selenite raised her voice but kept her tone clear and professional. “We are not fighting a conventional army.”

Hawkrich’s grin collapsed.

“For starters,” said Selenite, feeling confidence build. “Sombra makes extensive use of camouflage and cloaking magic to conceal his forces, rendering their positions invisible from above. We do have a recon advantage, but without a broad expansion of ground-based recon to catch these blind spots, our aerial recon might as well be useless.” She paused for a moment, until another realisation washed over her. “Worse than useless, in fact. How many times have our troops been led into traps due to these deceptions?”

For a moment Hawkrich was quiet and still. He then nodded his head, eyebrows raised. “You raise a good point, General. I’m sure we have more than enough trained ground reconnaissance personnel to mend this. More will be trained if we lack capable personnel. Did you have anything else?”

“Yes,” Selenite said just before she’d realised she was throwing herself into a prolonged debate. “Beyond the recon issue, your general assessment assumes that the formula that worked against the Celestials and the changelings will work in this war. While exhausting and frightening the enemy into retreat or surrender worked against our previous adversaries, the overwhelming majority of ponies in Sombra’s army are brainwashed slaves or undead thralls.”

Hawkrich sat silently for a second. “Meaning?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Quite simply, fear is out of the equation. A typical soldier in Sombra’s army cannot feel any fear and their basic self-preservation instincts are repressed. Suppressive fire has a physical impact, obviously, but no observable psychological impact. As far as we know, they might not even get tired. Focusing our efforts on scaring or exhausting them amounts to nothing if they’ll robotically obey orders regardless.”

Forcing out a snort, Hawkrich smirked. “Well, they’re controlled by their officers, aren’t they? Sombra’s officers retain their mind and their fear, so if we can push them to issue erratic or irrational orders, our forces will have an easier time.”

“You’d think,” Selenite said. “Except, from what we’ve observed, the behaviour of a frightened Sombrite officer has been to put as many slaves and thralls between themselves and our forces, either hiding as far from the front as possible or literally using pony-shields. The usual result is a bloody massacre, with heavy casualties on each side. Given a choice, the best thing we can put in an enemy officer’s head isn’t fear,” a pause for emphasis, “it’s a bullet.”

A few snickers and suppressed laughs murmured through the chamber.

Hawkrich, however, was not laughing. His face slightly twisted to a scowl, he shifted his weight from side to side as his wings twitched. “Obviously, General. That’s how war works. Yet doing so would require us to commit ourselves to a lengthy, costly process of training legions of elite snipers capable of silently slipping through the lines and eliminating Sombra’s officers.”

“That’s exactly what the Fourth Army under my command has been doing, and it has been neither costly nor lengthy,” said Selenite.

Hawkrich went still, blinking a few times.

“As a matter of fact, just last week we launched a successful operation to eliminate a Crystal artillery position. Our troops freed well over a thousand soldiers, just by the now-liberated village of Coltiston. A small team of snipers snuck behind their lines and eliminated their mages and officers. With most of their commanders dead, the rank-and-file soldiers dispersed into a disorganised horde. And without the coherent orders of their controllers, they fell back on simple programming and just charged, firing blindly at our soldiers without cover,” Selenite explained. “At that point, getting our spell jammers close enough to disable their helmets was trivial, and the battle was won with minimal casualties. Mind you, most of the snipers weren’t hardened Chiropterran Legionnaires, they were conscripts.”

“That’s very impressive, General,” Hawkrich threw his back into his chair and dusted his forehooves. “But perfection is the enemy of good. Better a good plan now than a perfect plan in two weeks.”

Selenite sighed. “Not in this case, Warmaster,” she asserted. “Time is on our side in this conflict. We know this. Sombra's stuck with the limited resources and antiquated industry he has while we have a modern, industrial economy. They didn’t even have guns until they picked them off Equestrian corpses. Mind you, said corpses wouldn’t have been there had we not entered this war by launching a hastily planned offensive into his territory.”

“So you suggest a siege then?” But before Selenite could answer Hawkrich rose from his seat as his brow furrowed and continued. “General, do you know what happens to ponies under Sombra’s rule?”

Selenite gave a slight nod. “I’ve heard and read countless reports of atrocities, yes.”

“Allow me to paint you a more vivid picture.” Hawkrich’s wings reached out as he put his hooves on the table, pushing himself up. “What we face is the end of life as we know it. Every stallion, mare, and foal is stripped of their free will and forced into back-breaking slavery. Even those fortunate enough to keep their minds, if you can call them fortunate, have every moment of their lives directed and controlled. Not a moment of true rest, not a moment of life granted to anyone outside the elite. Arbitrary murder, torture, and-” Hawkrich shuddered. “-and rape are common practice at all points up and down the hierarchy.”

Selenite didn’t dare interrupt. She was all too aware of the horrors that Sombra and his minions had inflicted on their subjects, and, well, she could see that Hawkrich was using them to make his point. Nothing good would come from interrupting or disputing a word of it. Let him make his argument and respond to that, she thought.

“And you suggest we delay the liberation of the Crystal ponies by rebuilding our doctrine from scratch?” Hawkrich added. “Every extra night we spent trying to reinvent the wheel is another night of suffering for the ponies under Sombra’s tyranny. The soldiers know this, it is their brothers and sisters in arms who have suffered the brunt of it. They know what they are fighting for and are ready to make the sacrifices. It is our imperative to tear Sombra down as soon as possible. Agreeing to a good plan tonight is better than having a perfect plan after three months of inaction.”

Selenite waited a moment to ensure nopony had anything to interject with before responding. “I understand sir,” Selenite admitted. “My contention is that by sticking to an inappropriate doctrine, we risk greater numbers of ponies being lost to Sombra’s forces, either being killed or captured by slaves. Our current doctrine has so far allowed him to capture our equipment, and worse yet, to capture our soldiers for enslavement or enthrallment. When every battlefield casualty or captured soldier means adding even more fodder to Sombra’s forces, minimising the overall loss of life and taking the extra time to ensure that is critical.”

“No, General,” Hawkrich leaned towards Selenite. “We must not give him any more time! No more time to violate the hundreds of thousands he has enslaved. No more time to find a way to turn this around. No more time to influence surrounding nations or attract any foreign support.”

Selenite was pulling in a breath, getting ready to respond at length. 

“About that, Warmaster,” a gruff aged voice belonging to Cipher Lock, Head of Military Intelligence, cut her off. “So far we have no reason to believe that there’s any danger of foreign support for Sombra. He’s an international pariah. The griffons have imposed a strict embargo, and the yaks don’t seem to care. At most, opportunistic bandits and crooks from the Griffon Frontier are running guns, but in no threatening quantity. The Nova Griffonian-Crystal border is simply too undeveloped for a robust supply chain of munitions to flow across.”

“Alright, but,” Hawkrich shuffled in his seat. “He might attack any of these nations at any given moment and seize control of their industry and connections.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” scoffed Major General Alesia Snezhnaya in her heavily accented voice. “The only successful offensive operation the Crystal Empire has achieved was the attack into Manesbury, Blackthorn, and Marechester near the beginning of their campaign. Even then, they were fighting mostly over flat terrain, they barely managed to take Riverpool and Whinnyapolis, and we ultimately forced them out. If Sombra’s forces cannot successfully hold cities close to their border with no natural obstacles in their way, what hope do they have of launching an attack over the mountains into Yakyakistan or Nova Griffonia?”

“Really,” an officer from down the table snickered, “we should encourage him to waste resources attacking his other neighbours.”

A few dark laughs rang out in the chamber. Hawkrich glowered at the laughing ponies and slowly slunk back into his chair.

Selenite was not amongst the laughing ponies, but she patiently waited for the laughter to die down before resuming to speak. She felt the gravity in the room shifting towards her. “Furthermore, considering that a great many of Sombra’s soldiers are captured and mind-controlled Equestrians, both military personnel and civilians alike, there’s been a certain unwillingness amongst our ranks to shoot to kill. I’m sure you’re all aware of this.”

All traces of laughter died out as murmurs of agreement rumbled up and down the table. Even Hawkrich nodded his head, even if he averted his gaze from Selenite as he did.

“Therefore,” Selenite continued, bringing out her chest as she reached her main point. “I propose a greater emphasis should be placed on capturing as many soldiers alive as possible, rather than eliminating them, for both practical and moral reasons.” 

Hawkrich sat up. “Pardon me, but as far as I’m concerned, wars are won through the ruthless application of overwhelming force. Trying to minimise enemy losses will only slow us down.”

Selenite raised an eyebrow. “The Fourth Army has placed special emphasis on minimising enemy casualties and we’re seeing better results than any other sector on the front. And we’ve focused our offensives on liberating as many ponies as possible, the result being more ponies going home safe and free.”

“Speed is a necessity, given what you propose,” Hawkrich alleged. “Sombra’s conversion camps, where the captured are kept and the worst atrocities are carried out, are positioned away from the frontline while being makeshift enough that they can always tear them down and pull them further away before our forces can catch up.”

“We could bomb them from the air,” said General Helion of the Air Force.

Heads around the table slowly turned to General Helion.

“Well, why not?” she shrugged. “It’d pretty heavily destroy their usefulness to the enemy, it’d be quicker than anything else, totally cut off Sombra’s supply of soldiers-”

“We’d be bombing our own soldiers,” Selenite said flatly.

Hawkrich scoffed at Helion. “The whole point of this war is to end the suffering of Sombra’s victims, not add to it!”

“Not to mention, how heavily Sombra makes use of cloaking magic,” added Selenite. “When striking solely from above, we won’t know what we’re hitting without a significant ground-based recon element.”

“It wouldn’t even do much if we did that, the bastard has necromancers in his army,” General Midnight Blossom said.

“Okay, okay, forget I said anything,” said Helion, sinking into their seat a little. A few ponies rolled their eyes.

“Regardless,” Selenite continued. “I understand that speed is important. Therefore, by investing resources on improving our capabilities, we can train more than just specialised recon scouts but a whole range of specialised personnel. It’s not any specific tactic that’ll crack the formula, but using a range of tactics aimed at draining Sombra’s officer corps. In the immediate term, we can utilise manueverable, low-caliber indirect fires such as mortars to ambush officers and strike them surgically from afar. Longer term, we could train stronger mages capable of jamming spells over a larger area, or capable of quickly teleporting in and out of enemy positions to assassinate commanders. We could train deep cover infiltrators, sabotaging every level of their operations. Perhaps, instead of recruiting ponies for that role, we could even recruit changelings-”

“Changelings?” Hawkrich interrupted. Selenite glanced around the table, noticing that others were hitting her with sceptical stares, a few eyeing their peers to make sure they didn’t mishear. Perhaps she overplayed her hoof. “You can’t be serious, General.”

“I’d be wary of that,” Cipher Lock spoke up. “At this time, the changelings would not take kindly to being called up to fight a war for Equestria. We’ve proposed it before, and even the most cooperative Hive Queens are wary of how their drones will receive it.”

While shaken by the kickback to her suggestion, Selenite kept a calm exterior. “It’s an idea,” she said.

“And I’m sure that it could be a useful idea in a future conflict, as could the rest,” said Hawkrich. “But we only have the here and now, and it would be much more productive to centre our discussions on current capabilities. To enact what you broadly propose, General, we’d require a superweapon capable of penetrating deep behind enemy lines able to strike without warning and move at impossible speeds.”

The doors flung open. Immediately, something about the air of the chamber shifted as everypony intuitively knew who had arrived before they'd even turned around. Sure enough, an elegant black alicorn in light silver armour, bespeckled with spots of fresh blood, stood in the doorway, two guards by her side. “We are back,” Nightmare Moon announced. “I trust the delay brought you no trouble.”

A discordant barrage of “My Empress,” and “Your Highness,” followed the scrapping of chairs hastily rushed out as everypony bolted to attention, saluting. Nightmare Moon motioned for them to all pipe down and sit down.

Sauntering to her chair, Nightmare cast her piercing gaze across the council table. “Warmaster,” she said as she sat down. “Has the matter of your strategic doctrine been resolved?”

“Quite!” Hawkrich grinned. “I believe we are nearing reaching a conclusion.”

“What?” Selenite blurted out. Eyes around the chamber, most noticeably Nightmare Moon’s, turned to Selenite. She felt the pressure pile onto her immediately, but her confidence didn’t waver as she composed herself. Quickly she thought of something to say that didn’t explicitly contradict Hawkrich. “We were making progress debating core questions of our doctrine before you entered, Your Highness. If you permit me, Empress, Sombra’s Army is not a conventional army, so we can’t fight them like one. Our usual doctrine, which relies on manipulating the psychology of our enemy, won’t work when the typical enemy soldier is incapable of feeling any emotions at all. Hence, we have to adapt our doctrine, and develop a consistent strategy that reflects the war we’re fighting.”

Nightmare Moon put a hoof to her chin. “Is that so? This isn’t just you as the sole dissenter, is it?” she said, then taking her gaze off of Selenite and aiming it at the council more generally. “What about it, council?”

“She has raised many important points,” asserted Major General Snezhnaya.

“I agree with General Selenite wholeheartedly.” General Midnight Blossom nodded her head.

“We’ve had a fruitful discussion,” added Cipher Lock.

More statements of agreement followed. Nightmare Moon’s eyes glided around the room as each member of the council spoke. Until her piercing gaze soon locked on Hawkrich. All other eyes in the room followed hers.

“It doesn’t sound like you were nearing a conclusion at all, Warmaster,” chided Nightmare Moon.

Aside from his blinking eyes, Hawkrich seemed to freeze. He held back a cough. “Before I was interrupted,” he spoke up, “I was going to say we were reaching a conclusion regarding… having to adapt our doctrine to our unique foe.”

“Is that so?” Nightmare Moon was evidently far from convinced or impressed. “Regardless… Now that I am here, amongst you all who possess a broad understanding of the state of the war, I believe it would be advantageous to hear your opinions on what I should do to best aid my soldiers.”

Hawkrich smirked. “I believe your current role is working wonders, My Empress. You’ve performed admirably at devastating Sombra’s forces.”

Nightmare Moon glowered. “Yet, the front has stalled.”

Hawkrich opened his mouth, then shut it and sank into his chair slightly. 

Selenite shuffled forwards. “Excuse me, may I make a suggestion?”

Nightmare Moon turned to Selenite, her chin raised a little, motioning her hoof a little. “Go on, General.”

“Instead of focusing on broadly destroying enemy forces, I believe you should focus on eliminating commanders and freeing enslaved soldiers, with a focus on liberating conversion camps,” said Selenite.

“Oh?” Nightmare Moon raised an eyebrow. “Do explain.”

Selenite smiled. “Seeing as you are effectively invulnerable to most forces, capable of flying at tremendous speeds, and possess unparalleled magical ability, you should be able to eliminate enemy commanders with pinpoint precision and jam their spells. This would almost entirely disintegrate their ranks, preventing any unnecessary bloodshed that comes from killing a soldier who doesn’t want to fight, brings our own captured personnel back into the good fight, and gives us the chance of recruiting the freed soldiers. Not to mention the message it sends, proving to the naysayers of Equestria and the world that you are a liberator and that our cause is just.”

Nightmare Moon grinned at the last of Selenite’s comments, a subtle gleam of delight in her eyes. “And are these not the sort of operations that the Fourth Army has focused on?”

Selenite nodded her head. “Yes, Your Highness.” Good that the Empress knew of that.

“Then you make a compelling argument. Any dissenters amongst you?” Nightmare Moon asked the council.

The chamber was mostly quiet, until Hawkrich stood up. “If you think it is right, then we have no reason object.”

“Then it is decided!” Wings flared, Nightmare shot out of her seat. “We are to refocus our efforts on the surgical elimination strikes on our foe’s commanders and to the liberation of captured soldiers!”

At her declaration, Selenite took a glance at Hawkrich, who was nodding along with a grimace on his lips. Selenite struggled to repress a chuckle at the sight. Nightmare Moon announced it, and Hawkrich just followed along. Were office politics always this easy?

“And to follow on.” With a push from her wings Nightmare Moon jumped onto the table and landed square right in front of Selenite, startling the little thestral as a few of the maps fluttered about. “General Selenite!”

Selenite pulled her wings and hooves close, but still slapped a quivering smile on her lips. “Yes, My Empress?” The words flew out her mouth a little too quickly.

“I am bestowing upon you-” Nightmare Moon threw out a hoof to point at Selenite, stopping only an inch from her muzzle. “-the responsibility of overseeing the implementation of this liberation-centric doctrine!”

“Absolutely, My Empress!” Selenite couldn’t hold back a glowing smile. She pushed herself up, regaining some composure as she saluted her Empress. “It will be done!”

“Wonderful!” Cackling, Nightmare leaped off the table and trotted towards the door, more of the maps and charts fluttering in her wake. “I want to know everything about your adaptations once I return!”

That caused a few ponies to sit up and exchange confused glances. “Your Highness, aren’t you going to stay?” Hawkrich tilted his head.

“At a meeting? Ha!” Nightmare threw her head back. “This is a mere detour on the route to my next battle! I am needed out there, carry on and ensure my will is done!”

Without another word and with a regal flourish, Nightmare parted the doors ajar and strode out. She slammed them shut behind her rumbling the very foundations of the room; only an empty air of silence was left in her wake.

Hawkrich cleared his throat, his chin up and hooves on the table. He motioned to speak, opening his mouth.

“General Selenite.” The authoritative voice of Major General Snezhnaya sliced through the air. “You mentioned special forces you had trained. I would like to hear specifics regarding their application.”

The focus of the room firmly fell onto Selenite. It was clear that everyone was under the impression that Nightmare Moon was going to stay for longer and provide strict direction for the meeting, beyond what Hawkrich could give before her sudden departure. But given  the Empress’s sudden personal endorsement and how Hawkrich had been so thoroughly challenged, Selenite could feel herself having to fill the silver sabatons that the Empress left behind.

“Absolutely, Major General,” said Selenite. She reached into her files and retrieved a small file of papers. “To use a recent example, an after action report about the operation in the Stormreach valley…”