• 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 12 - War and Rememberance.

“Those guys were awesome!!” Scootaloo says for the two hundredth time in the past three days. She jumps from joy yet again, her small wings flapping so quickly they almost can’t be seen.

“Yeah, did y’all see how they fought those dragons? They were all like… BOOM! and POW!!” Apple Bloom proclaims as she makes a little reenactment of the battle three days earlier, rearing up and making motions like she’s firing a rifle.

“I know right? Wish I could be like that someday!” Scootaloo says while looking wistfully out the window. “And that ‘tank’ of theirs… that’s like the sweetest ride ever! Sure is a shame they can’t get it working again… I’d wanna ride that thing!”


Then she notices both her friends giving her an odd expression. “What?”

“Uh… ‘scuse me.. But Rarity won’t approve o’ that, Sweetie Belle,” Apple Bloom explains, but her unicorn friend just puffs at her. “She already said you weren’t allowed to go near ‘that utter monstrosity’.” She pulls off a surprisingly good imitation of Rarity’s voice. “They’re still cleanin’ up those dragon bodies and puttin’ the town back to rights. Smells awful over there. Still lots of broken glass around too.”


“Yeah, those ‘marines’ said you shouldn’t go near that ‘war pig’ either,” Scootaloo adds. “Too many sharp edges and ‘un-sploded rounds’, whatever that means.”

“Well, it can’t hurt to dream!” Sweetie Belle says back and hops off the chair near the window. “Those big metal carts of theirs are just so cool! I wonder if they can get that flying one out in the meadow workin’ again?” she muses as she walks out the door.


“So where you going?” Scootaloo asks as she leaves the clubhouse.

“Its getting late, you know… we should all go home,” the unicorn filly replies as they all look outside, realizing it’s starting to get dark… and they’ve been warned not to be out past sunset with all the strange vehicles and visitors around, not all of which are believed to be friendly. So they all go out together and pile into Scootaloo’s wagon, who dons her helmet and beats her wings like a hummingbird, pulling them rapidly down the path towards the Apple family homestead.

Back at that homestead, cooking smells are prevalent. Big Mac is wearing an apron and has large pots of grits and apples on the stove while Griggs and Soap prepare various veggies. Meanwhile, a now-healed Major Wallace gets the cart from outside, at Big Mac’s instructions, to load up and bring the food to town. The Cobra pilot has a very hard time pulling it to the house, giving him a new appreciation of how strong Applejack and Big Mac are to pull the full cart as fast they did to the battle against the dragons three days earlier.

“Have to say, it’s been quite awhile since I’ve been on KP…” Soap muses as he peels some potatoes and add it to a pot. Oh by the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, Big Mac. Why don’t we just cook all this in town? Wouldn’t it be less time consuming? And surely it will be cold by the time we get there?” he asks as he finishes his batch.


He expects a simply ‘eeyup’ or ‘nope’ from the big red stallion as he’s heard so many times in the past, but is surprised to receive a full answer instead. “Well… we could, but it’d be more difficult. Lugging all the cooking equipment and ingredients takes so much space that we’d need a second trip just for the food. That’s a mite bit o’ hassle. So let’s just cook it up here, to make only one trip there,” Big Mac explains in a deep but clear voice, leaving both humans at a loss for words. “And we can use warming gems to keep the pots hot.”

“So you can talk!” Soap exclaims without thinking.


“Eeyup,” Big Mac replies with the barest of smiles, leaving Soap and Griggs wondering if they’re being teased by the large earth pony stallion who is also surprisingly dextrous with his hooves. “Soon as we’re done here, we’ll load up the wagon and get this all into town… and y’all don’t even have to fight a dragon this time. Reckon it’d be a nice change of pace,” he smirks, causing the others to groan.

* * * * *

Despite all that happened in the past week, the town mood is surprisingly festive, Lieutenant Vasquez notes.


With the defeat of the dragons at the hands of their new friends and repairs underway, the dragon carcasses removed and the town square more or less restored to rights, the ponies make plans to thank and welcome their guests properly, promising to fete them with a feast and celebration despite their protests and warnings that there are still other, more hostile humans around.


The town is at least now more secure against them, he knows. Ponies have brought them other human items they’ve found all around town and nearby it, boxes of supplies and ammunition that replenish the ones they’ve lost. The most notable additions to their arsenal are a single Javelin and loaded stinger missile launcher, which at least gave them something capable of bringing down dragons again should they return. Rainbow Dash had turned in a damaged Raptor recon drone and the Apple Family had even discovered a usable humvee with a top-mounted .50-cal lying on its side at the edge of Sweet Apple Acres. Vasquez had personally retrieved it, giving Applejack a ride. He grins at the memory of how she’d loved its speed and power, standing up in the gunner’s seat and shouting “YEE-HAW!” as she waved her Stetson around, urging more from the metal beast.


There are other changes as well. Fresh from the Equestrian Capital of Canterlot—are all names a pun on human ones, the Lieutenant wonders?—a company of Equestrian soldiers called ‘Guardsponies’ are now stationed in town, powerful-looking armored stallions ready to defend it with spear, blade and magic. The human soldiers are dubious at first, until the guardsponies demonstrate their capabilities. The unicorns are able to project shields and fire magical beams while the earth ponies, far from useless, have strength and speed to spare; they’re equipped with foreleg mounted crossbows that can penetrate kevlar and can throw spears with enough force to slice right through trees. They all wear ‘enchanted’ armor which can deflect glancing shots and shell fragments; some unicorns are even equipped with longbows that give them surprisingly good range, able to magically guide their arrows to target and enchant them to various effects.


Though impressive, he hopes their skills in modern warfare will not be tested. The rebels have not made any further appearances, though there are sketchy reports from ‘Wonderbolts’ overflying the Everfree of some kind of rebel camp and a possible collection of vehicles.


But such concerns are for later as the festivities quickly come together. And the ringleader of ceremonies, over at town hall… is a certain pink earth pony known as Pinkie Pie, darting to and fro as she prepares the town for a grand welcome party to their visitors. At her side, another unicorn named Rarity decorates the entire place, much as she once did the summer sun celebration, she herself explains. And fittingly, the ruler of the ponies, Princess Celestia, promises to attend, leaving him wondering what a princess of ponies will look like, still not believing that she actually raises and lowers the sun.


“Oh my, this will never do!” Rarity sifts through a box of ribbons and streamers beside her as she searches for the right color. She then finds what she is looking for and puts it on top of the building… right below the U.S. and British flags now hanging on equal footing with the Equestrian one. She’d made them herself using the shoulder patches on the human soldiers as a template, and the soldiers themselves had raised them over town hall at dawn the next day… only to just as immediately lower them to half-staff in honor of their fallen comrade, giving him a makeshift funeral service that the entire town had attended. An improvised gravestone marks the spot he sacrificed himself to save the town; he and the burnt-out remains of War Pig had become a makeshift memorial where flowers and thank-you notes are left by grateful townsponies.


The newly decorated town hall is a colorful sight to behold for the Rangers, Marines and the S.A.S. men, as they have never seen or received a party such as this for them alone. The outpouring of sympathy is welcome as it’s something they so rarely receive, unlike so many dangerous missions they finish and never even got a simple thank-you for, either from civilians or their superiors. “Will you look at that? A party for us… How nice,” Lieutenant Vasquez nods his appreciation, admiring the decorations and plentiful desserts. His rifle is on his back, loaded and within easy reach just in case, but with sentries set and pegasi patrolling, he’s confident there’s no way Rebel forces can sneak up on them. “So where’s Sergeant Jackson?” he asks Foley, who’s standing near the doorway, but the veteran Ranger just shakes his head.

“He’s back at the Treehouse. Hasn’t left since the memorial service. I told him to get out and take a walk or something, but he just told me to get lost.”

Vasquez nods sadly. “Guess he still feels responsible for John’s death…” he notes, then looks back at Foley. “And how’s Twilight’s doing? She saved our butts the other day but was pretty shaken up.”


“I think she’s okay. Having Jackson take care of her seems to be helping,” he notes. “Her friends are checking up on her too. She’s also keeping herself busy that basement lab of hers, trying to figure out a way to synthesize our fuel.”


He nods at that, knowing that if Twilight is successful in her efforts, they’d gain use of their vehicles again and might even be able to get their Blackhawk flying once more with some spit-and-bailing wire repair work on the RPG damage. They’d told her that in their world, there were ways to produce vehicle gas from plant sugars via bacteria-fed fermentation, giving her samples of the Blackhawk’s aviation fuel and the Humvee’s diesel to work from. Intrigued, she’d immediately set out to duplicate such a curious feat, barely leaving her basement lab.


“And Spike?” Vasquez wonders. “Ain’t seen him the last couple days.”


Foley’s expression drops. “He’s healed now but still in shock. Barely leaves Twilight’s side. He knows the dragons were bad guys, but… they’re still his kin, you know?” The Army Ranger Sergeant notes sadly. “I think he’s most worried that that’s what he’s going to turn into some day—a monster. He insists most dragons aren’t like that and something must have set them off.”


“Can only imagine what that’s like,” the Lieutenant acknowledges somberly. “I’ll see if I can talk to Jackson. Order him out if I have to.”


“Good luck, L-T,” Foley is just happy it isn’t him, though his thoughts are quickly scattered as his stomach growls. “Well, damn. Party’s not for another hour, but I’m hungry now.”


“Hey, if you want you can go to Sugar Cube Corner to get a cupcake and some coffee, go for it. They’re really good you know,” Vasquez says. “You’re off duty, so go ahead. Gillespie’s group and the Tankers have the watch right now.”


Foley makes a face at him. “You keep telling me go there. But look, if that corner is made out of sugar cubes like some Hansel and Gretel House… then this place has officially jumped the shark.”

Vasquez thinks that between somehow being pulled there by a nuke, the dragons, the diamond dogs, the cloud houses and talking ponies who can grow food, use magic or fly, Equestria jumped the shark a long time ago. “Don’t worry. I went there yesterday. Twilight told me about it so I went and was pleasantly surprised. It’s where Pinkie works, but trust me, it really isn’t made out of sugar cubes,” he chuckles, remembering his first meeting with the pink earth pony and how over-the-top her antics are, all but stuffing one of her trademark pink-frosted cupcakes in his mouth. “And the coffee is light-years better than anything we get back home, too…”


Foley thanks the marine Lieutenant, who’d he’d quickly come to respect. As Vasquez heads inside, he thinks about what his new L-T had said, having second thoughts if he wants to go or not. Just then he sees a little pony with a large red bow on its head pass by, glancing at him repeatedly and acting like she’s trying to work up the nerve to come closer.

Seeing that, he decides to invite her. “Hey there, could you come over here a bit?” Foley calls to her.

Startled, she obeys, trying not to look too eager. “Oh! Uh, yes? W-Wha’ can I do you fer, sir?” She said looking at the Marine, not hiding her excitement over getting to talk to him very well.

Foley can’t help but smile at that. “You were watching us from the bushes by Town Hall when we were fighting that dragon. Am I right?” the tall dark-skinned US Army Ranger said to her with a sideways look, making her blush a bit.

“Howdja know we were there?” she asks, her cheeks turning the same color as her bow.

“Well it’s a little hard to miss that big ol’ bow of yours poking out of the bushes,” he told her with a grin, and she literally went red all over, going even more nervous. “That wasn’t safe, you know,” he admonishes her gently.


“Oh. Well, Ah-Ah know that, but… we had to see! Just, uh… d-don’t tell Applejack okay? She’d ground me if she found out!” she begs him.


Foley laughs a bit. “So you’re AJ’s little sister, huh? What’s your name, filly?” he asks the curious but utterly adorable pony girl before him.

“Apple Bloom, sir,” she replies politely. Foley smiles and gives her a pat on the head, scratching her briefly behind the ears, causing her eyes to widen at the unfamiliar but pleasant sensation of his fingers digging in there. Then he takes something out of his pocket…

“Well there, Apple Bloom… got a little something for you,” Foley gives her a small jewel pendant on a thin white chain made up of small pink local crystals that he found on the ground in an abandoned house back in Iran; a child’s toy he’d hoped to return or at least pass on someday… and decides now is as good a time as any as he puts it around her neck. “Looks good on you… it matches your mane!”

“Wow! T-thank you sir!” She hops around almost giddily as he watches, excitedly showing off the gift to her two friends who are hanging around the still-growing dessert table. Satisfied, the Army Ranger Sergeant sits down and waits for the party to begin, finally happy to take some improvised leave after the wall-to-wall combat of the previous few weeks.


His relaxed mood ends abruptly when the town leader, rather unimaginatively called Mayor Mare, comes out of the building along with a curious blue-suited pegasi wearing flight goggles. Seeing Foley, the latter immediately flies up to him and asks to speak with him privately about ‘an urgent matter’, inviting him inside the Mayor’s office. Surprised but quickly agreeing, Foley follows them inside Town Hall.

Meanwhile, Vasquez tries talking to Jackson, who sits in a darkened room, unshaven and unkempt. To his surprise, Twilight is there, speaking comfort to him, taking a break from her work in her lab. Vasquez gently asks her to leave as he can, saying he wants to talk to his subordinate alone.

He goes up and puts a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Jackson? Hey, man. Let’s go, it’s our welcoming party! Ponies are really going all-out for us. So why so glum?” he asks the other

“John’s dead because of me, L-T,” Jackson replies in a very dull voice while staring at the blank wall before him.

“It’s not your fault, Jackson,” Vasquez replies evenly, but the Sergeant only shakes his head sharply.

“It is man! If I told him to stay, he could still be alive now!” Jackson punches the wall, releasing and putting all his anger out of himself.

“And we all could be dead and the town destroyed. Look, he did what he had to, and it was a fucking brave and selfless thing to do. We ever get back, I’m putting him in for the Medal of Honor. So until then, let’s honor his sacrifice like any good marines would—toast the man and drown our sorrows with some beer,” Vasquez offers—they’d actually found a large keg of smuggled beer along with all the other equipment and containers that have somehow passed through to this world. The exotice drink had quickly become a favorite of the grain-loving ponies as well once they tried it; Applejack and several other local pubs and growers are already trying to figure out how to brew it.


Jackson smiles wanly. “I know you’re right up here, L-T,” he taps his head, “But here says different.” He motions to his heart.


It’s an old trick, very cliche, but Vasquez uses it anyway. “And would he want you sitting around moping like this?” the Lieutenant asks pointedly. “What would he say if he were here right now?”


When Jackson doesn’t answer, Vasquez does it for him. “He’d say he made his choice and he doesn’t regret it. That it was worth it for saving us and all our new friends,” he tells the Sergeant with certainty. “So what does your heart say about that?”


“That you’re right,” the marine NCO admits, closing his eyes and going downcast before opening them, a little warmth in them now. “And he’d tell me to stop being such a fucking baby over him. That he died a hero’s death and he’s proud of it.”


“That’s the spirit! Now come on… let’s go grab a brewski. I’ll buy!” the lieutenant offers ironically—it’s not like they have to pay for it—helping his sergeant to his feet. But the smile drops as Foley rushes in, telling him there’s news he needs to hear. Promising to rejoin Jackson later for the drink and toast, Vasquez follows the Ranger Sergeant out the door.