Chapter Six: Pitching Guns
“Ideas are more powerful than guns. We would not let our enemies have guns, why should we let them have ideas?”
-Joseph Stalin
Chapter 6: Pitching Guns
—
“Tia, “ Luna stated, while sitting at the Royal dining table, “I think it's time *cough* we bring matters into our own hooves. The information *sniffle* regarding the ‘poem’ is becoming truer by the second.”
Celestia switches her gaze from her food, to focus on the slightly green Blue Alicorn, “We haven’t been in a war in over 1000 years, I doubt our military is up to it.”
“Then what about a volunteer force?” Luna questioned, finishing off with a sneeze.
Celestial simply hums in thought, tapping a hoof to her chin.
She seemed as though she was sitting on the fence, and needed a slight push, “I feel as though it’s just the right *cough* thing to do, please trust me on this.” She began to have a horrible, rising feeling in her stomach.
Celestial returns from her thoughts and sternly stares at her sister, “Very well, a small and elite force should do quite nicely.”
Luna then turns around and pukes in a bucket next to her, for the seventh time this morning.
I sipped my delicious cup of black tea, in one of ‘Canterlot’s’ cafes. Only a few tables are occupied by other creatures.
I will give this planet one point, they do manufacture exceedingly good beverages.
It’s been several days since I finished designing the guns, in fact. I currently have three on me.
The reason it has been so long, was mostly due to the impractical and tedious activities I had to do I order to achieve a booking in the Royal Day court. Today, however, was finally the day I pitch my guns to one of these countries leaders. As soon as this Monarchy accepts (without a doubt), other nations will be intrigued these ‘revolutionary’ new weapons, and it'll be just a matter of time before they come to me, or attempt to produce the muskets themselves. Although, it would be impossible to produce blackpowder. This planet simply doesn’t have the required resources.
I decided to change my current clothes to one of more professionalism.
I know what you're thinking, no, I’m not wearing a dress.
Instead, I opted for a white collared shirt, red pants with a crimson blouse and tie.
Yesterday’s paper informed the public of Princess Luna’s sickness, as last time she had a cold was over 300 years ago, it is only a matter of time before the bacteria affects the whole city.
Good thing I’m resistant to every single disease.
I finished off my cup, stood up on all fours, and exited the establishment.
For some reason, quite a few of the clothed horses sometimes politely nod at me when I pass, I’m assuming that they’re apart of the wealthy class. They must presume I exist in the same social area.
The court should start soon, I better head over so I don’t become late.
I sped up to a moderate pace, and continue to head towards the large castle.
Currently, I’m quite calm. When I first arrived in this city (not counting when I tainted the Princess’ water), I noticed a transport carriage. Normally, that would be typical, however, these ponies THEMSELVES actually pulled them. I’ve never seen anything more impractical in my entire life! I can’t believe that I was joking about that a couple days back, coming to the conclusion of how absurd that thought was. Turns out, in fact, it was quite the opposite.
I have given up attempting to piece together the logic behind most of this society.
As I reach within a hundred metres of the castle, the roads begin to transmission from dull grey stone, to outline in beautiful gold.
At the front gate of the fort, is a few of those ill-equipped guards, in preparation, I revoke a paper parchment from my left saddle bag.
A few moments later, I present the document to the right guard, and he nods.
It’s so weird how all of them look the same, why would they even do that? What is even the point?
The same soldier that I engaged with, gave the metal gate a slight push. Opening the right side enough to allow me to enter.
I walk through without even a second thought.
A beautiful garden greets me, flowers of all different colours, bushes, trees of all different shapes and sizes, perfectly prepared in order and balance.
Exactly the same when I saw it a couple days ago.
I trot into the main building and travel down a corridor.
A lush, beautiful rug stretches all the way to the huge double doors on the opposite side of the hall. Paintings of hundreds of different ponies dot the walls, obviously well renowned or people who largely contributed to the discoveries of this nation.
Maybe I’ll end up on there.
Eventually, I reach to end of the hall and are greeted with a moderately sized line of other ponies directly in front of the doors to the throne room.
Most, if not all, emit a sense of self-proclaimed superiority, and snobbish attitudes.
I HATE when others think they're better than the people surrounding them. Although I know humans are better overall than these stupid creatures, that is however due to biological genes. Uptight snobs, on the other hand, think their better as they have the wealth to back it up. Money may make the world go round, it doesn’t however, contribute to you being a better overall person.
My thoughts are interrupted by a sudden push to my backside, monetarily causing me to take a few steps to balance myself.
I glare at the offender behind me, I’m presented with a white unicorn male (or stallion), with blond hair, clothed with a white tuxedo.
The culprit simply huffs, “Watch where you're going, peasant!”
That fucking, PIECE OF SHIT! I WILL RIP OUT HIS THROAT AND SHOVE HIS OESOPHAGUS SO FAR UP HIS ASS, FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE HE’S GOING TO NEED TO SURGICALLY REMOVE HIS SHIT!
CON-FICKING-GRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE JUST WON A TRIP TO THE TOP OF MY BUCKET LIST!
Nobody ever talks to me like that. Especially not a primitive, feral, and disgusting species!
I strongly scowl at him.
He returns it, “A Prince, such as myself is to be admired similar to a God by the likes of you.”
I really fucking hate Monarchies, so much corruption and injustices.
I smirk, “On what certification?”
His face merges one of anger, “You DARE speak back to me?!!”
I just adopt a ‘no shit’ expression, “No, of course not,” I said sarcastically.
“Good!” He huffs.
Did he seriously believe that?
I simply roll my eyes in a mocking fashion and place my attention back to the front of the line.
Some of the participants were staring directly at me, I guess nobody has ever defied this guy. About time someone should off.
At that moment, the doors swung open, giving us a clear view of the throne room, in addition to the white Alicorn perched on the throne.
A white mare, with black mane and tail wearing glasses, walks up to the first pony in line and engages in a quick light convention with him. Eventually, he and the other mare walk back into the throne room, and the huge doors close behind them.
This is going to take ages, I wish they had an actual time system here. All you do is fucking book for one court session and wait your turn. Wastes too much time if you ask me.
Slowly, the line crawled forward. Most, if not all, ponies exiting from the throne room expressed signs of disappointment.
Probably attempting to scheme the Princess into getting their hands - I mean hooves, on practically free money.
Within an hour, I’m the first in line.
The pony that was in front of me previously walks out of the throne room, signalling my turn.
Repeating the exact same process as countless times beforehand, a white mare walks up to me and asks a series of questions in a monotone voice.
“Name?”
“Atomic Discharge,” I replied.
“Aim?”
“Improve the Equestrian Guard,”
She simply raises a single eyebrow at me and uses her forehoof to signal me forward.
I begin to amble my way into the throne room, I furthermore switch my gaze to the ruler sitting on the large throne, located a few steps up to suggest a level of superiority. I notice the sparkles of curiosity in the eyes.
She seems to be regarding me.
I stop at the head of the throne.
The large doors shut with a THUD behind me.
The same white mare I talked to previously began to inform the princess, “Presenting Atomic Discharge with his idea to improve the Guard.”
I moderately bow in front of the Princess.
“Rise, my little pony,” she cooed in a slightly crooked voice.
I hate this Princess all fucking ready. Not only does she view her citizens as underneath her, but also as her subject! Nobody is fucking owned by this son of a bitch!
Calm down, I can’t let my real thoughts settle on my facade.
“Begin *cough*,” she stated in a motherly voice.
You’ve got the early symptoms of the disease, how wonderful!
Now it's time to sell these things, I probably should off rehearsed this.
Like I normally do when engaging in lecture mode, I started to walk left and right repeatedly.
“I’ve travelled over the whole world, and I’ve come across the militaries of every nation. There has been one thing that I have noticed.” I paused for a few seconds to let that sink in. “Every single army is better than ours, whether it be by training or equipment. They always come out on top.”
I swiftly turned on the spot and faced the Princess.
“Our guard seems more concerned with maintaining a glorious image rather than focusing on practicality. Our weapons and armour are atrocious, every foreign soldier I’ve had the pleasure in meeting wears iron, bronze, or some type of strong metal. What do we use? Gold. The softest, most malleable metal in existence, it couldn’t even stop a wooden stick!”
Celestial seems to be slightly frowning, that is expected since I am literally dissing her entire army.
I continue to walk backwards and forwards.
“Luckily, it doesn’t matter,“ I waved off with a hoof, “War is always a battle between weapon and armour. You develop a type of metal which can stop a sword, the enemy produces a different blade to slice through it, and so on. In the end, however, the weapon always comes out on top.”
I spun back around to face the white alicorn again.
“That’s why I’ve developed something to place the guard on top of the food chain, allowing them to easily protect us from any foreigners and domestic dangers,” I paused again to allow her to dwell on it.
“I call them guns.”
I removed one of the muskets from my right saddlebag and placed it directly in front of me.
Celestial stares at the weapon with mild curiosity.
“Imagine it like a crossbow, if you would. Able to launch a projectile capable of travelling over 200 metres per second, and penetrating almost any amour.”
I tapped the firearm ahead of me, “This particular gun is a Matchlock Musket, it uses gunpowder as a propellant, and an ignited piece of rope to launch it.”
“The guard will easily be able to—“ I was cut off.
“I’ve heard enough,” she interrupted, with a swipe of her hoof, “this kind of weapon that you speak of cannot enter this world. I fear it may have far too big on an impact on every nation.”
Well, isn’t this little pony very smart, she’s aware that it’ll likely cause a whole new era of weapons.
*Sigh* “As you wish your highness,“ I bowed once again for ‘respect’, “I’ll be on my way.”
I picked up my firearm, and once again stashed it in my saddle bag. I started to walk back towards the throne room entrance with a neutral expression.
Some of the few ponies remaining in line made mocking faces at me.
She’ll regret not buying these from me, I’ll sell them to another country and start an arms race anyway.
Nothing can stop me.
——-
I was back at the same cafe as before, this time, however, enjoying a delicious scone with jam.
I had the world map I got from Ponyville on the table in front of me.
What to do, what to do.
My whole plan revolved around Equestria retaining gunpowder weapons, as they are the dominating nation. Other countries may realise that they were becoming too powerful, thus a major threat. Eventually leading them to act out.
I deeply sighed, this is extremely annoying.
I quickly finished my scone, scooped up my stuff, deposited in my saddlebags and headed back out into the streets.
I could potentially create my own mercenary army, make people realise the potential of firearms.
Or I could just give it to the Griffons or Minotaurs.
Yeah, I’ll do that.
A young colt interrupted my thoughts, “Papers! Papers! Get you Canterlot Morning papers!”
I haven’t read today's one, may as well. See what the world is up to.
I walk up to the brown colt and ask for one. Using my right forehoof, I rummage around in my saddle bag until they land upon serval coins.
“Here you go,” I said, as I gave him three bits.
“Thanks, Miss!” He gushed.
I strolled away from him, with the newspaper tucked in my right forehoof, I had no particular destination in mind.
Eventually, I come across a lovely park and sit on top of a bench.
I pull out the print and began to read the front page.
GRIFFON CIVIL WAR:
PRINCESS LUNA SENDS ONE HUNDRED GUARD VOLUNTEERS
Three weeks since the begging of the Griffon Civil war between the commendable Griffon Empire and Democratic Griffon’s Republic, Princess Luna thoughtfully provided one hundred elite guards to aid the monarchists to a swift and undying victory.
“These dishonourable traitors have betrayed the rightful rule of their King, introduced a dreadful ideology, killed thousands of innocent beings, invented never seen before acts of cruelty, in addition to designing a society based off greed and jealousy. This awful uprising must be brought to a close before they can brainwash their villainous ideals into the minds of the innocent, and continue to charge their warpath on the rest of the world.” -Princess Luna.
It is unknown at this point in time what provoked Princess Luna to suddenly send assistance after a few weeks, however, we can be thankful that Equestrian threats are put to rest.
Reports have detailed that the rebelling population weren’t satisfied with the supply in the area, and as a result, took the matter into their own claws to concededly receive the unnecessary commodities by force.
It is uncertain at this point of time which side posses the most support, reports show that small bundles of the population are shifting over to the newly formed state. Rebelling and civil unrest is spreading across areas influenced by the Republic propaganda.
The rightful Griffon Empire is confident in their loyal 20,000 highly trained and equipped army to easily crush the frail and unprepared enemy militia.
Let’s hope that we can put a stop to this before the situation takes a turn for the worse.
———
Now, this is interesting, I think it's time to bring Democracy to the world stage.
A sudden realisation causes me to facehoof.
God damn it! I'm going to have to redesign everything, aren’t I?