• Published 30th Nov 2011
  • 11,060 Views, 188 Comments

Call of Duty - Equestrian Warfare - ChromeRegios



After a Disastrous mission gone wrong, Jackson was left for dead at a nucler explosion when he foundhimself to be the first human... in a whole new world.

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Chapter 1 - Field of Grass

“Get to the Sea Knight! We’ll hold down these corners. GO!” Lieutenant Vasquez tells Sergeant Paul Jackson while rescuing a downed chopper pilot as they provide cover fire. Jackson struggles to get to the Vietnam-era Marine helicopter transport that’s older than he is, dodging bullets as he goes.

“Lieutenant Vasquez? This is Alpha 2-5. Now would be a good time to get the hell outta here, over!”

“Roger that! We’re on our way!” Vasquez holds the rebels off one last time with a burst from his rifle before jumping in the transport himself.

His relief is short-lived. “Outlaw, this is command! We have a probable nuclear threat in the capital, I repeat, we have a probable nuclear threat in the capital! Proceed to a minimum safe distance until the all clear is given by the NEST team!”

Vasquez feels his guts clench at the announcement. He knows the rebels are fanatical, but he still can scarcely believe they’d nuke their own capital of Basrah just to spite their foes. Best not stay to find out! “Go, go, GO!” he shouts at his remaining team to get in the transport.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, This is your captain speaking. If that report’s right, we’re in for some serious shock and awe! Hang on! Taking evasive action,” the pilot of the Outlaw announce as they fly off to the sky.

“All U.S and allied forces, Be advised. We have a confirmed nuclear threat at the city, NEST team is on site attempting to disarm! I repeat. Th~~” The communications are jammed as a blinding flash announces Armageddon has occurred; a mushroom cloud quickly rising over the center of the city marking the detonation of purloined Russian nuke.

Only a few miles from ground zero, the entire squadron of choppers tries valiantly to stay airborne, only to be caught by the shock wave of the blast and thrown hard through the air. “EVERYONE HANG ON!!!” the pilots call out needlessly over the intercom.

Hit hard by the shock wave, the Sea Knight Jackson is in spins out of control. Near the exit, Lieutenant Voker tries desperately to hang on as the chopper swerves violently but loses his grip and is tossed outside! Jackson holds on for dear life to the hull of the chopper as it crashes to the ground and rolls over several times in the wake of the hellish blast, leaving only a mangled mess of a flying machine.

Then all falls silent until the chopper radio crackles to life again. “This is command… Bravo teams please respond…” a shaky voice sounds over the radio at length.

“We’ve taken major casualties in the main central area… Weasel team is not responding…” a second, equally shaky voice replies.

“A nuclear bomb has gone off in the city center… I repeat, the rebels have detonated a nuclear bomb in the city center!” a third announces what everyone within fifty miles already know.

“Decontamination teams, stand by… attempting search and rescue for survivors in the area. Dispatch Rescue team Alpha 1 on site, over…”


Jackson crawls outside of the wreckage of his downed chopper… somehow alive, but battered and disoriented, covered with bruises and flashburns from the radiant heat of the blast. Still conscious, he looks up to the horizon to see the still-rising mushroom cloud in the distance. In shock, his vision goes blurry and he stumbles to a nearby playground, where he suddenly collapses. Awaiting death, he swears he hears children laughing from somewhere… just as a bright white light appears in front of him. Believing his end has arrived, the light slowly swallows him… and then everything goes black.

Lost somewhere between worlds Jackson has visions of strange beings who talked to him. They are not human, but pastel-hued and walking about on four legs, they can somehow talk. His dream takes him across a field of grass where he stands for quite a while. He looks everywhere but could not see anything or anyone around him but an empty pasture. He wonders where the battlefield went, and as if in answer, he looks up again and sees MiG-29s and AH-1 Cobra Gunships crisscrossing the sky… then a rumble draws his eyes back to ground level where he sees a company of T-72 tanks heading right towards him! He tries to run, tries to find cover only to find that his legs have frozen up just as a tank bears down on him. He is just about to be crushed underneath its muddy treads when a voice calls out to him…

“Jackson?! Sergeant Jackson wake up! Wake up, dammit!” A voice calls out to the Marine Sergeant, who’s still a bit out. Slowly coming to, the veteran NCO wakes up to find himself not in a devastated city, but a field of grass, a pleasantly cool breeze blowing gently against his seared face as he regains consciousness. He slowly rises into a sitting position only to see Lt. Vasquez right beside him.

“Thank God you’re awake! Check this place out!” Vasquez motions around them to the flower-filled field, an idyllic place surrounded by lush hills and mountains and capped with crystal blue sky; a far cry from the desert city they were fighting in.

Jackson scans the place in disbelief, noting there is no trace of the city, of friendly or rebel soldiers, or even that there was ever a battle. In fact, the landscape itself looks far different than the one he was just in, leaving him wondering again if he is in fact dead.

“Command? This is Bravo 6 reporting, Do you copy? Over.” Vasquez radios Command to ask for extraction from their location, but the radio only gives out static throughout the channel.

“COMMAND!! PLEASE RESPOND!” Vasquez shouts again as he can’t get a clear signal, only to finally slam the receiver down in disgust. “DAMN IT! Looks like we’re on our own, Jackson.”

Jackson clutches his rifle more tightly. “Fuck… any idea how we got here, L-T?”

“None! And I haven’t found anyone else but you around these parts…” Vasquez assures him that he was the only survivor he’d seen so far. “The last thing I remember is that we got caught in the nuke blast and crashed. After Outlaw 2-5 went down I think it killed both of our pilots!” He tries to remember how he got here in the first place as he begins to cross the field, seeking cover in a nearby treeline, certain their enemies must still be somewhere nearby. “Oh yeah, and I saw a light heading right through me that time…”

Jackson blinked as he follows his Lieutenant. A light? Just like what I saw before blacking out…

Before he could voice the thought, Vasquez called to him. “Jackson! You might want to check this out…” Vasquez gestures Jackson to come close. Obeying, the sergeant joins his commander to see… another marine lying in the tall grass nearby. Both of them rush towards him, only to find that he is dead.

Vasquez looks at the marine’s dog tags and his lips immediately tighten. “Sgt. Howard… I know him! He was in the 3rd Infantry regiment! Looks like he didn’t make it…” Jackson shook his head and mutters a short prayer for their dead comrade, crossing himself as he does so.

Vasquez spares just a moment to do the same. “Jackson, Grab his ammo and supplies… I don’t know where we are, but there might still be hostiles in this area…”

“Yes sir!” Jackson takes a Ka-Bar combat knife from the body and also the fallen marine’s Beretta M9 9mm Pistol and his M4A2 Assault Rifle, emptying all his ammo patches as well.

Vasquez takes out his M1911 pistol in his holster and released the magazine, which slid out neatly into his waiting hand—their weapons were intact and operational, at least. “I got 10 rifle clips on me. What about you?” Vasquez asks Jackson.

“Just five…” A quick search of the dead marine reveals 15 full magazines for his M-4. That plus the fifteen the pair already possess gives them 900 rounds in thirty clips—enough to take care of any hostiles and fight their way back to base if necessary, both hope.

A quick exchange of magazines evens up their ammo counts. “That should be enough… Can I have your other knife by the way? I lost mine in the crash.” Jackson nods and gives his sheathed hunting Knife to Vasquez, who puts it in his belt as pair head out across the field.

Reaching the nearby woods, Vasquez and Jackson walk through a forest for an hour before settling near a large looking tree which, to Jackson’s eyes almost looks like it has a face in it. Just as they were about to sit down to eat some rations, they hear an animal roar.

Vasquez and Jackson both ready their guns and search for the source of the sound. As they venture near the clearing, they see what appears to be a series of a giant snakes, having cornered what seems to be a small, pastel-hued pony. The soft-hearted Lieutenant thinks to save the poor little thing, so he positions himself and looks at Jackson.

“Jackson, on me… take the one o’clock position. Move!” Vasquez went to the opposite angle at 11 o’clock, placing the snakes in a crossfire that would hopefully not endanger their equine quarry. Upon arrival, he signals Sergeant Jackson to fire at will.

There is series of sharp cracks as their 5.56mm rounds fill the snake heads, and one by one they fall to the ground dead.

The threat ended, the two Marines reload their weapons and cautiously approach the brightly-colored creature, which has fallen over on its side. “Jackson, look at this… have you ever seen a pony like this before?” Vasquez looks at the animal and checks if it’s still alive… quickly seeing it was still breathing, but apparently fainted.

Jackson shakes his head. “If it’s a pony, it’s not like any I’ve ever seen… I mean, look at it… a pink mane and a yellow coat? And check this out…” he motions to its hip. “It has an odd brand in its flank. Are those butterflies?”

Vasquez checks the mare further and discovers that the sergeant is right. “What’s going on here?” the Lieutenant asks his only partner. “None of this makes any sense. Where are we and how did we get here? And what is this… mare?” He doesn’t know what else to call her.

Jackson feels equally befuddled. “No idea, L-T. But I think we should put take shelter and bring her with us, just in case. This is no place for a pony. Maybe we can return her to her owner later,” he suggests, and Vasquez agrees to his idea, carrying the yellow mare to a nearby cave to treat her wounds. The Sergeant cleans her up and bandages the small gash in its leg to prevent infection… then sets her down on a bed of hastily gathered pine boughs near the entrance of the cave. While he tends the mare, Vasquez goes out to get wood for a campfire before it gets dark.

As Jackson patiently waits for his lieutenant to return, he watches over the mare as it sleeps, curious as to why such a magnificent miniature pony as this, whose exact species he has never seen before, had its fur and mane dyed so brightly and then allowed out into such dangerous woods. Who knows, maybe it’s a new breed and the owner likes to airbrush butterflies in its flank…

Just as Jackson is about to fall asleep, he hears a frightened squeak from his right. He turns his head to see that the mare has just woken up, and seems quite scared, staring at him with her unnaturally big teal eyes.

His heart melts a bit as she turns her frightened gaze on her. “Hello there! Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. We just fixed up your wounds there, see?” He points to her bandaged leg.

She flinches at the gesture, so Jackson holds his hand open-palmed at the mare to show he means her no harm. “I’m sure you don’t understand me, but trust me, we will not hurt you.”

The mare looks at him and starts to calm down, as if she understands him. Jackson wants someone to talk to other than his absent Lieutenant, so he makes conversation to the mare, even though he knows full well she could not possibly understand.

“So… what’s your name, my little pony?” he asks, already thinking up ideas of what he might name her, politely waiting on an answer even though he only expects silence from the mare, or maybe a nervous nicker. He chuckles at his own idiocy, knowing that to think a mare could answer or understand him is very stupid of him. But then…

“F-Fluttershy…” A weak female voice answers in barely in a whisper, just loud enough to be heard by Jackson, who starts and stares at her through the dark.

“Wait! Did you just… talk…?” he asks the mare, his jaw open, more certain than ever he’s either dead or dreaming.

“Y-yes…” the mare confirms in a very soft voice. “My name is… Fluttershy…”