• Published 30th Nov 2011
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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 8 - Hunter 2-1

“Son of a BITCH!” Private First Class Joseph Allen shouts as he takes cover behind their ruined humvee. A US Army Ranger and veteran of the Afghan war, he and his team had been deployed to Iran along with the rest of the 1st Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment just days earlier, only to be ambushed by a mob of rebel raiders while doing recon on the area, at about 10:34 P.M.

“Damnit, we’re surrounded!” his longtime companion and fellow Afghan vet, Sergeant Foley, says while taking cover himself, trying desperately to keep their attackers at bay.

“We should have stayed in the base and had another drink! But no~ YOU want to a have a look around! SHIT!” Cpl. Dunn complains as he reloads his magazine, an AK rifle round cracking just past his head.

“OH SHUT UP!” Foley shouts back at Dunn, who’s getting irritated about his constant complaining since they went out of the base. “Just keep firing, dammit!”

“They just came out of nowhere! They must have been planning an attack on the base! We need to take them down!” Sergeant Liam shouts as they fire back at them. Sergeant Liam Gillespie was a Green Beret sent to work with loyalist forces in the area, and already knowing the area, had offered to help Sergeant Foley in their recon.

“Working on it!” Foley sees a narrow ridge and quickly forms a plan to take the fight to higher ground. “Allen! Get on that ridge and cover us with your SAW! We’ll cover your retreat, then you cover ours!”

“Wilco!” Allen acknowledges. “Push these bastards out, we’re going to ground them to yesterday!” the PFC comments as he crouches in front of the crashed jeep, taking fire as he ducks in the back of it.

“What the hell did he say?!” Dunn says looking at Foley.

“Shut the fuck up and fire!” Foley and Dunn both provide cover fire as Allen makes a dash for the ridgeline, a few rounds hitting the dirt in his wake. They wait for his M-240 Squad Automatic Weapon (S.A.W.) to open up, but it doesn’t immediately.

“What the hell is he doing?!” Foley grits his teeth as more AK rounds impact the ground around him, the raiders closing in.

“Oh, now you ask me?!” a frustrated Dunn bites back as the radio crackles to life.

“Colt Six, this is Baseplate. Distress signal received. What’s your status, over?” Baseplate radios the team to check on them.

“Baseplate this is Colt-Six! We’re under heavy fire and request immediate extraction and air support! We’re on a road six klicks east of base and have been ambushed by a group of rebel raiders! We can’t hold on much longer!” Foley shouts through the radio, going on to give his exact grid location.

“Copy that Colt 6, Standby. Hunter 2-6 is en route and we’re diverting available air assets to your area. Hang on, we’re getting you out of there!” Baseplate signs off and dispatches an MH-60M Blackhawk and accompanying Apache air escort near the area to come get them. Foley, Dunn and Liam know they only need to hold on a few minutes more… and also know they likely won’t be able to.


Their attackers suddenly rush them from the left, only to be cut down by SAW fire from the ridgeline as Allen finally opens up, having played dead and waited for the most advantageous moment to do so.

“Took your sweet time! Allen! We’re on our way to you! Cover our asses!” Foley shouts over his comm link as the group takes advantage of the broken assault to break cover and sprint for the higher ground.

“GO! I’ll Hold them off!” Liam throws 3 grenades at once that explode in front of the Raiders, slowing them down just enough for the Rangers to reach the ridgeline. Upon arriving, the others throw smoke grenades to mark their location and further cover their retreat, enemy rounds chasing them but none finding their mark.

Just then the ground around the raiders erupts in gouts of dirt from aerial chain gun fire as the pilot of their transport calls in. “This is Hunter 2-6. Have your smoke in sight and laying down suppressive fire on the tangos. Are you guys alright?” Sergeant Christian Mariano calls out as he nears the ambush point.

“Hell yeah! Now that’s a sight for sore eyes!” Dunn shouts in excitement to see the heavy transport chopper and Apache escort raining down death on the Raiders.

The Blackhawk fires a few more rounds at the Raiders, scattering if not completely killing all of them before landing to lift the men out, the agile Apaches covering them and chasing down the survivors.

“Thanks for the assist, 2-6! Now let’s teach these punks not to mess with the Rangers!” he proclaims as the Apaches begin a counterattack, strafing the area, spotting and cutting down a portable SAM team before they can launch. The rescued Rangers join the fight as Dunn takes hold of an airframe-mounted minigun.

“YEAH!!! GET SOME!” the Corporal shouts at the top of his lungs as he rains death down on the remnants of the raider group, treating them like small ants under a magnifying glass burning with the sun’s rays.

After another minute, the job is finished and the radio crackles again. “Hunter 2-1, this is Baseplate. We received a tip that a small village up the road where you are is the likely origin point of those raiders. The locals report the entire place was taken over the rebels and made it into an ultranationalist training camp and staging area. They’re weakened now after that failed raid, so if you feel up to it, take 2-6 and the attached Apaches to destroy the base. This is NOT an order, this operation is only at your discretion,” Baseplate hastens to add.

“Any estimate on numbers? Any air defense? And what about the civvies?” Foley asks in rapid succession.

“Civvies are long gone, they say the rebels kicked them out. No air defense spotted except the usual man-portable SAMs. Numbers: estimate a single company, minus the ones you just killed. So your rules of engagement are simple: see them, kill them, and don’t worry about collateral damage. We’ll rebuild the village for the civvies later, over.”

“Wilco, baseplate. Orders understood and will proceed at my discretion,” Foley acknowledged. “Up for some impromptu search-and-destroy, Rangers?” he calls out over the intercom.


“Hell yeah! Fly this baby up!” Dunn gets all pumped as Christian and Allen position themselves to the sides of the Chopper while Foley goes to the craft’s co-pilot seat.

Unfortunately, they quickly realize that the mission isn’t going to be as easy as they thought. “Fuck! I see 2 Hinds coming towards us!” Christian announces, pulling back to let the Apaches take the lead, Stinger missiles leaping off the gunships’ wings and streaking towards the surprised Soviet-era Mi-24 heavy assault helicopters, apparently arriving late to support the aborted assault on the base. Despite their heavy armor, both are taken out before they can even get a single shot off, falling in flames and taking their rebel infantry contingent with them.

“Bogeys down, continuing to target,” Christian says as he forms up with the Apaches again and heads for the village, only to see… a series of ZSU-23 “Shilka” self-propelled anti-aircraft guns in position on the streets below, their quad guns old but deadly to the slow-flying transport. “Fuck!” he shouts as the turrets swivel towards them, their crews alert, one exploding immediately from an Apache Hellfire missile strike.

“No air defense my ass…” Foley growls. “Fine, we’re committed now! We need to destroy those things before we can take out the base!” he decides as Dunn opens fire with his mingun making a loud buzzing sound, the heavy AP rounds wrecking a gun and wiping out its crew. But more were waiting as the remaining Shilkas opened up on them, AK and 23mm rounds starting to spatter against the hull, the latter puncturing it.

They were knocking them out, but not fast enough, and the base was now fully rousted. “Shit! How can these lunatics even got hold of those things?!” Liam shouts as he was almost thrown out by a sharp maneuver, Christian trying to dodge what fire he could, but the Blackhawk was taking damage, alarms already sounding in the cockpit as even the Apaches were soon reduced to maneuvering for their lives, trying to dodge a steady hail of fire and occasional SA-14 shoulder-mounted SAM.

“The bird can’t take much more guys! There’s too many of them!” Christian proclaimed.


“Aw, come on! There’s just a couple of those ZSU things left! Let’s kill them and then…” Dunn is cut off as an RPG whizzes past the side of the Blackhawk, just missing the rotors.


With that Foley makes his decision. “Dunn! We’ll deal with them later! This place is too much for us to take down alone! Do you want us all to die? Mission Abort!” he shouts at Christian, who immediately pulls the Blackhawk up sharply, releasing a shower of flares to throw off enemy missile teams. Despite that, an unguided RPG impacts the right side of the transport, blowing a large hole in the fuselage and causing it to swerve out of control.

“Mayday! Mayday! This is Hunter 2-6! We are hit and are going down! I repeat, this is Hunter 2-6 and we’re going down within the enemy base!” Christian shouts into his radio as the Rangers, crew and single Green Beret brace for impact, the transport losing altitude as it spins slowly, leaving a spiral trail of smoke. But just as they are about to crash, a bright light appears in front of them, engulfing the stricken Blackhawk.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!” is all Foley can say before a wave of dizziness and nausea overtakes him, blacking out. Liam and Allen likewise see the bright light engulfing them but are completely blinded by it… and soon they are unconscious as well.


Christian is the first one to wake up, and is surprised to find the chopper is still falling… which some part of his mind insists can’t be as they were bare meters above the ground last he knew. With more altitude to work with, he begins to regain control of his stricken Blackhawk, amazed to find that that the engines were still working despite the RPG hit.


Overcoming the damage, he finally brings the transport into a controlled descent when he sees a strange streak of colorful lines briefly appearing buzzing in front of the chopper and then disappearing behind it. As he works, the others wake up; Liam a bit confused and Foley likewise in disbelief to find they’re not all dead, the latter calling out to his team.


“Hey! Wake up… everyone still alive? Groan if you are…” All of the team do just that, pulling themselves back up and away from the large fuselage hole. Foley then looks out the horizon, finding the sky is still quite dark but uncannily starry, a far cry from the dusty skies of the Iranian border.

“So, where the hell are we?” Foley asks in bewilderment as the Blackhawk continues to slowly descend, noting the sudden lack of lights or AA fire as Dunn stumbles into the cockpit.

“Uh… no idea. But we’re not over the base anymore. Guess we ended up somewhere outside of the village?” suggests Dunn, who is still a bit shaken up.

“Am I even asking you?” Foley shoots his subordinate a look. “Get back to your post, Dunn! Man the minigun until we’re down!” he orders, and the Corporal moves to obey, only to stop short and gape out the window.

“LOOK OUT!!!” Dunn points to a white structure that materializes in front of them in midair, somehow complete with pillars and rainbows, causing Foley and Christian to gape in turn.

“FUCK! TURN YOU BITCH! TURN!!” Christian yanks the stick over as hard as he can to keep them crashing, but not in time to keep them from going right into the structure. All of them brace for impact, awaiting the sound of crashing metal and shattered rotors but…


Nothing happens! They just pass right through, though Foley thinks for a moment he sees… a bed and brightly colored BEDDING?

“Uh, guys… look!” All of them follow what Christian is pointing at and recognize that they passed right through the structure!

“Whoa…” Was the only thing Foley says after seeing the big gaping hole in the cloud structure, the remainder untouched through some of the odd rainbows seem disrupted.

“Is that even a cloud formation?” Liam asks as they continue their descent away from it, still baffled by what happened to it.

“Questions for later. Christian, get us down!” Foley orders as they look for a place to land, finding a grassy field between hills in which to do so. They touch down mercifully without further incident, at which point they all jump out and form a quick perimeter… but there’s nobody around, and the lush, tree-dotted field is anything but like the rugged, semi-arid area they’d been operating in.


“What the fuck…?” Foley asks again. “Where are we?”

“Hmm, That’s odd. This place doesn’t seem to show up on our GPS,” Dunn says as he tries and fails to get a location fix.

“Baseplate, this is Hunter 2-1 reporting, come in, over… Baseplate DO you copy, over?” Christian tries to contact the base with the chopper radio, but gets no reply. “Damn! Rebels must be blocking the signal.”

“We’ll just have to find some high ground, then…” Foley decides as looks around the area. Noting the field was wide with a forest and mountains to the North but more open terrain south, Foley decides where they should proceed to get help.

“Let’s salvage what we can and head for those woods. We’re in hostile territory, folks, so we’ll need some cover. Hopefully we can find some friendly locals too?” he looks to Liam for support.


The Green Beret nods. “There’s a few around. I’ve worked with them. Hopefully we can find someone familiar…”


“That’s the plan, then,” Foley confirms. “Rock and load, Rangers! We don’t know if there’s more of those raiders out there, so be prepared for anything. Dunn, you have point,” he orders as they set out towards the woods under the bright light of the moon.


Meanwhile back in Ponyville, Jackson and Vasquez play cards in the living room of Twilight with the revived tank crew, whom they were already friends with, having fought alongside them for the better part of the past week.


Andrew and John, the rescued Cobra crew, have also been playing, though the latter is on crutches and had a bandaged head. His leg had been broken and yet the pony doctor had been able to somehow reset and refuse the broken ends—giving him an odd vial of glowing liquid and promising if he took it, the bone would heal completely in a matter of days. Though wary, he did so, having had enough examples of pony ‘magic’ that he didn’t doubt the words were true.


Trying to establish some semblance of normalcy in a situation that is anything but, they continue their poker game as Twilight and Spike look on, trying to figure out the rules. The latter is on his feet again, if a bit gingerly, while Applejack and Big Macintosh went home an hour earlier once Spike had woken up and assured them he was fine.

“I got a straight, what do you got?” Jackson says as he shows his hand, some coins and ‘bits’ constituting the pot in the center.

“I got two pair,” John shows his cards then tosses them away in disgust.

“I got higher straight!” A gleeful Andrew announces.

“Hah! I win with a flush!” Vasquez announces, taking the improvised chips off the table.

“Damn it! That’s the third time!” John says in frustration. “Enough. I’m done with losing. Wake me if the Russians come,” he proclaims, standing up and stretching then going to a nearby couch to sleep.

“Sorry, man. Better luck next time?” Andrew starts to deal again when there’s a knock at the door, the hand pausing as Twilight goes to open it.

The moment she did, in flew an angry cyan blue pegasus.

“You’re not gonna believe this, egghead! Somepony made a hole in my house!” she shouts, just as Applejack comes running back in as well.

“Well, you ain’t the only one who had a visitor! Somepony was in my house too! A couple pictures were out of place and there were weird hoofprints in the barn!” Applejack adds, her entire family in tow. “Don’t know what’s goin’ on, but after all Ah’ve heard, the farm ain’t safe for Granny Smith or Apple Bloom. So we’re staying in town for now.”

Sensing the news likely means more humans or human things are around, the Marines immediately abandon their game and go to the door to ask what happened, causing the blue pegasus to blink hard at their sight.


“And just what the hay what are you guys supposed to be?” she asks, flapping over and getting up in the face of Vasquez, looking him over from a hover. “A lot of ponies say there are a bunch of weird apes walking around. Are you some of them?”

“Rainbow Dash, these are guests!” Twilight stamps her hoof at her friend’s rudeness, making quick introductions. “They’re called ‘humans’. They’re not from around here and they don’t know how they got here. And until we figure out a way to send them home, you can be more polite!” she insists, though Rainbow Dash is clearly not convinced of their friendliness, insisting that that ‘something’ crashed through her house, destroying her bed and punching a huge hole in her cloud home!


The marines look back and forth between each other at the news, deciding not to question how a house could be made out of a cloud. Turning his attention to an agitated Applejack, Jackson poses a simple question:


“AJ, you said there were footprints inside your barn?” he asks, but Applejack tilts her head in confusion. “Huh?”

“He means hoofprints,” Twilight clarifies, and Applejack understands that instantly.

“Oh! Yeah, there were! In fact, now that you mention it… they looked a lot like yours!” she pointed at Jackson’s boot.


“Eeyup…” Big Macintosh concurs, even looking slightly perturbed himself. “They weren’t pony, that’s for sure.”


Jackson looks at Vasquez. “If they’re human, could be other friendlies.”


“Could also be rebels,” the lieutenant replies, “and there’s no telling what they’ll do to any ponies they find.” He then issues orders, the marines quickly pulling their gear back on and preparing for a patrol. At Vasquez’s instructions, they split up, Vasquez taking Hanks and following Rainbow, while Jackson takes the rescued tank crew to Applejack’s house, weapons at ready…


Ready for the worst to happen.