London, England
October 20th, 2012
1000 hours
“Exiting station into West Street now, are you in place?”
“Hostile forces moving into the plaza, we’re getting overrun!”
“Requesting airstrike at location!”
“This is Falcon One, we’re hit! We’re hit!”
Everything was screaming around Major Coats. He wanted it to stop, for silence to reign for just a few precious seconds, to let his head clear and help his migraine go away.
But he knew it wouldn’t stop. Maybe not ever.
These creatures, no, these monsters they were fighting were unlike anything that they had ever fought against before. They were ruthless, killing or taking anyone; men, women, children, it didn’t matter to the invaders, and the humans were almost powerless to stop them. Their bullets would just ricochet off of the bigger aliens’ armor, their jet fighters seemed to be nothing but nuisances to the UFOs hovering around the city, and even their heavy tanks’ armor would melt under the plasma weapons of the aliens.
But the fight wasn’t over. Not yet.
And Coats would be damned if he allowed these mongrels to take London.
“Where the bloody hell are the Americans?” He asked everyone in the command center. “Didn’t they promise us some support?”
“You haven’t heard?” One of them said, not looking away from his Drone feed. “The Yanks are under attack on their own home-front, getting their arses kicked from what I’ve been hearing.”
“I doubt they’ll be sending us help anytime soon.”
“Well that’s just bloody perfect.” Coats mumbled. A female soldier approached him, saluting.
“Sir,” She said. “We have an emergency report from MI6.” He raised a brow, but accepted the report. His eyes widened in shock,
“Why the hell wasn’t this brought to brought to my attention earlier?!” Coats whirled toward a communication officer. “Are there any Special Operations units in London right now?” The man blinked,
“There’s an SAS unit across the Bankside Pier, just completing an evacuation assignment on Summer Street.”
“Get them on the radio. Now!” The man did as he was ordered, pressing a few buttons on his computer.
“Major, you’re on with Captain McTavish.”
“This is Bravo Six, we hear you loud and clear Baseplate.”
The soldier’s voice was laced with a heavy Scottish accent.
“Bravo Six, you are being re-directed to MI6 headquarters for a priority extraction.”
“Who’s our target?”
“The Prime Minister.” The whole room fell silent at those words. “MI6 HQ was hit about ten minutes ago, and we’ve lost contact with everyone inside. All agents, all personnel, even the Prime Minister’s security detail have all gone silent.”
“What makes you think he’s still alive?”
“His emergency beacon in active, and we can’t just take the risk of assuming his death. It’s all up to you now Captain, don’t let her Majesty down.”
“We understand sir. Bravo Six out.”
~~
The carnage was all around the city. Smoke plooms rose into the already dark and gloomy skies. Fires raged from blasted-out storefronts, and many of the dead were still lying where they had fallen. Screams seemed to emanate from every direction. Cries for aid, for medics, and death itself could be heard around the shattered capital.
Soap was just thankful that the helicopter blades drowned out the worst of the sounds. The other members of the SAS team were also silent, staring out at the destruction laced out before them. It cut each of them deep to see the Capital of their country burning as it was.
“Status report Bravo Six.”
Soap placed his finger to his ears,
“We’re about to cross the Bankside Pier into the river, about three minutes out from MI6 headquarters.”
“Copy all Bravo Six, stay on course. Baseplate out.”
The two transport helicopters began to cross the wide river that divided the two sections of London, and Soap turned to his men.
“Alright Lads, listen up,” He said. “We’re crossing over into hostile territory, these creatures own this side of the city. Which means we won’t have any backup if we run into trouble. So cover one another and don’t try anything stupid, understood?” The soldiers nodded. “Alright then, lock and load!”
“Captain!” The pilot screamed. “Incoming at our ten oh clock!”
“Evasives!” Soap shouted back.
A small UFO came streaking in at high speeds, firing large plasma bolts at the humans. Two bolts tore through the tail of the adjacent chopper, sending it crashing into the river. Another bolt took off one of the propellers.
“We can’t stay airborne!” The Pilot shouted. “I’ll have to take her down!”
~~
December 27, 2012
1300 hours
“Alright, let’s just calm down a second.” Spar said, breaking the silence. “Do we all see the same thing in front of us?”
“You mean small colorful little horses?” Ghost asked.
“Yep, that’s what I’m seeing too.” Dusty said.
“…Actually, we’re ponies.” Twilight squeaked. The four men visibly cringed.
“…Did that purple one just talk?” Joker nodded,
“Yes, yes it did.”
“Oh good. Should we all go get our section eights now or later?” Spar asked.
“Excuse me,” Ditzy said nervously. “But if you don’t mind me asking, what are you?” The soldiers seemed confused by the question, luckily the answer came from an unlikely source.
“They’re humans!” Lyra exclaimed. “Observe.” Suddenly the pony appeared next to Spar, leaving the Captain wondering what kind of sorcery would allow this small Pony to teleport in such a way. Lyra began pointing, “Two arms, two legs. Notice their limbs don’t end in hooves, rather in hands with five fingers. Along with the fact that they are hairless except for a sort of bush on their heads. See?”
“Hey give that back!” Spar said, grabbing his signature boonie hat that Lyra had taken.
“Humans?” Applejack asked. “Ya mean like those creatures from old pony tales?”
“They don’t look like myths anymore to me.” Twilight said.
Meanwhile, the humans were looking at their resident expert on mythological creatures.
“Uh, Dusty,” Ghost said. “Any ideas?”
The medic looked thoughtful for a moment, then took a step forward, pointing a questioning finger at Twilight.
“Unicorn?” He asked hesitantly. Twilight bit her lower lip, but nodded. Dusty turned to Ditzy. “Pegasus?” The Mail mare also nodded. Finally, he looked to Doctor Whooves. “Uh…”
“Earth Pony.” The Doctor simply said.
“Right… of course…” An uncomfortable silence filled the room.
“Ok group meeting!” Spar announced, as the two different species each formed their own little huddles.
“Ok, so let me get this straight.” Joker began. “We have found yet ANOTHER alien race, but instead of aggressive conquerors who aim to kill everything in sight, these are colorful talking ponies who seem to be about as helpless as children.”
“That’s what it looks like, as crazy as it is.”
“This is real right?” Ghost asked. “I’m not really passed out in the base after Reznov gave me some of his vodka right?”
“Only if he had enough alcohol to make us all so drunk that we would be sprawled on the floor.” The soldiers knew it was very possible, actually.
“Either way, we know the protocol of how to deal with this situation.”
“There’s protocol of how to deal with magical talking ponies?” Joker asked.
“Not what I meant smart-ass,” Spar said between gritted teeth. “I mean the one where if we meet a friendly alien species. We take them back to base for questioning and analysis.”
“Do you really think these ponies are aliens?”
“Gee, I don’t know Ghost, do they look like they’re from around here to you?” Dusty asked sarcastically.
“With the way things have been for the past few months, it could start raining chocolate milk and I wouldn’t even bat an eye.”
“Point taken.”
~~
“So let me see if I understand,” Twilight said, still trying to wrap her head around what she was seeing. “We are in a world ruled by these…. Humans, a species from the old days, and that Lyra has always nagged everyone about being real?”
“Hey!”
“Yes, that is true,” The Doctor said. “But it’s a bit different now…” Applejack raised a brow.
“Ya’ll have been here before?” She asked.
“But of course, many times.” Whooves looked around the wrecked building they sat in. “Though it was in much better shape the last time I was here.”
“I hate to interrupt…” The ponies all turned to Rainbow Dash, who they had forgotten about in all the confusion. Dash was sitting on the floor next to them, biting her bottom lip and trying to hold back the tears as her hurt wing continued to burn like fire. Ditzy hesitated for a moment, then walked over to where the humans were standing.
“Um, excuse me…” She said, her voice trembling slightly. The humans turned to Pegasus, obviously trying not to stare at her Wall-eye.
“Uh, yes?” Ghost asked.
“My friend is hurt,” Ditzy said nervously, motioning with her hoof toward Rainbow. “Is there anything you can do to help?” The four soldiers looked towards the Rainbow-maned pony.
“Dusty, go check it out.” Spar ordered. The medic gave him a surprised looked,
“I’m a medic, not a veterinarian!” He protested.
“Just do what you can.” Spar hissed back. Grumbling, Dusty made his way over to Rainbow.
“Show me where you’re hurt.” He said. Rainbow opened her mouth, but then closed it again, gritting her teeth and fighting against the pain. Instead, she stretched out her wing. Over the edges of the wing, where her cyan coat had once covered, now was black burned skin.
“Hmmm… Plasma burn.” Dusty said, recognizing the type of wound that he had seen far too many times. “You’re very lucky.”
“Lucky?!” Rainbow Dash sounded outraged. “My wing feels like it’s been through Tartarus! Twice!” Dusty glared at her.
“I’ve seen men get hit with plasma and their entire chest disintegrates. You were just nicked, no permanent damage, just pain. I would call that lucky.” He snarled, not happy with the mare’s attitude. He took out some First-Aid spray. “Now stay still, this’ll help.”
“Hey, what are you-“ Rainbow suddenly winced in pain as the Medic sprayed the Medicine on her wing. Then she sighed in relief as it began to work.
“That should take away the pain, and speed up the healing process,” Dusty said, putting the spray back on his pack. “Still, I wouldn’t use that wing for now until we can get a better look at it back at base.”
“Back at base?” Twilight repeated. “Is that where you’re taking us?” Spar nodded.
“Our Commander needs to see you in person, it’s also the safest place on the planet right now.”
“And if we don’t want to go with you?” Applejack asked, clearly mistrustful of the humans. Spar shrugged,
“If you want to stay here wandering aimlessly, be my guest. But you should know, we are the only friendly faces around here, almost everything else that moves will try to catch you, blast you into pieces, and blast you into oblivion.” Applejack gulped audibly.
“Ah, uh, see your point.” She said.
“Good. Now I’ll see to getting us a ride out of here.” Spar put a finger to his ear. “Overlord this is Delta lead, do you copy?” Static answered him. “I can’t raise central, what about you?”
“Nothing here.”
“Just static here.”
“Something’s majorly interfering with our comms.” Joker said.
“That is most likely caused by the electronic waves that signaled our… arrival.” Doctor Whooves said.
“Sounds about right.” Dusty said, shaking his head. “Nothing’s ever simple…”
“It’s no big deal, we’ll just head for the secondary LZ,” Spar said. “We should be clear of the interference there. Then we’ll call for pickup.” The three other soldiers nodded their agreement. Spar turned to the ponies. “Alright then, stay close to us and you’ll be safe.” As they started out, Spar spoke over his shoulder. “Oh ya, and welcome to London. What’s left of it.”
~~
“Baseplate, our chopper’s down! We’re on foot!” Soap yelled, sprinting to find cover as fast as he could. “We’re on clover street and heading north!”
“Understood. Bravo Six be advised, our drones have spotted a sizeable enemy force headed in your direction.”
The six commandos immediately moved behind burning cars, blown out buildings, and crumbled walls for cover. Up ahead, Soap spotted movement, as about eight aliens that appeared to be half machine started towards their direction.
“Floaters!” Someone shouted.
“Weapons free!” The humans opened up with their weapons, but the floaters found their own cover. Soap sprinted out of cover to find a better position, and one of the aliens took a shot at him. He felt the heat on his face as the plasma bolt barley missed his head. He rolled into nearby storefront, pulling a pin out of a frag.
“Grenade!” He shouted, hurling the object at the floaters. It rolled under a car that they were using for cover. It detonated, the explosion engulfing three of the floaters. Another Alien moved up on the British position. One of the men fired, but missed, a mistake that would cost him his life. The poor lad was cut down in a wave of green plasma, his burned body falling to the ground. A nearby Commando lifted his MP5 over cover and fired at the floater on full auto. Most of the bullets pinged off of its metal armor, but two lucky bullets struck it in the head, bringing the creature down. The fight continued, as bullets and Plasma flew through the air. One of Soap’s men broke cover, arming a grenade as he did so. He was cut down by an overwatching floater, but not before he managed to throw the grenade, its explosion taking down two more floaters. The SAS quickly surrounded and gunned down the last two remaining floaters. After eight minutes of brutal fighting, the humans had already lost a third of their men, and they hadn’t even crossed the street.
We’ll be wiped out before we ever get there, Soap thought.
“Baseplate, we need another route to MI6, we’ll never make it at this rate!”
“Affirmative Bravo Six. We have found you an alternate route, head down to the nearest Metro station, that should be safer than above ground.”
“Copy that, we’ll get on it now.” Soap waved to his remaining men. “You heard him lads, get moving!”
~~
The four soldiers made a defensive perimeter around the ponies, keeping a sharp eye out for any alien activity as they headed to the Landing Zone, but so far it had gone without incident. The ponies, however, were transfused with the city. They stared at every building, seeing every plasma scorch on the walls, and the wrecked remains of tanks, cars, and even a few crashed planes. Once, Spar saw Twilight look sick to her stomach when she saw the charred bodies that littered the streets. He guessed that ponies weren’t use to war, but he could relate. He felt the same when he was in his first combat zone.
“What… what did all this?” Lyra asked, her enthusiasm now obviously diminished by the horrors of what she was seeing.
“The damn aliens…” Ghost mumbled.
“Ya’ll mean those things that ya killed?” Applejack asked. “They did all this?”
“No. Well, not just them.” Joker said. “There’s many different kinds of aliens, and they each breed a new kind of nightmare.”
“I can’t imagine you just let them do all this.” Twilight said.
“There was nothing we could do,” Spar said his voice a little hoarse. “They had us outsmarted and outgunned, we fought back whenever and wherever we could. We finally managed to beat them back, but just barely.” Spar took a look around the ruined city itself. “This use to be a beautiful city, I had a lot of friends here.”
“Did they get out in time?”
“…Not all of them.”
They continued on in silence for a while, until they came across a street that was blocked by a crashed helicopter.
“Oh that’s great.” Ghost said. “Looks like we’re taking the long way around.”
“Ghost, with me.” Spar orders. “Let’s see if we can cut through that building.” The two men moved to the building next to the crashed helicopter, standing next to a large hole in the wall. Spar squinted, “It’s kinda dark in there,” He said. “Ghost, toss in an electro-flare.” The demo-man pulled the cylinder out of his belt, then tossed it inside. It illuminated what seemed to be the main room of a warehouse.
“Looks clear boss.” He said.
“Alright, move in, but stay alert.” The pair fanned out as the ponies followed suit.
“Alright, I see the exit ahead, just stay close and we’ll-“ He stopped talking, as he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. More specifically, the glowing yellow reptilian eyes.
“Thin Men!”
~~
“We’re going deep, and we’re going hard.”
“Surly you can’t be serious.”
“I’m serious, and don’t call me Shirley.”
As they finished welding through the grate, the four SAS soldiers entered the secret entrance into MI6 Headquarters from the Metro tunnels. From what they had been told from Command, it had been built during the Second World War in case they needed to get back into the building if the Nazis were to ever take London from the allies. The secret tunnel led them to bathroom, a hidden door behind the stalls. It was a mess, plasma scorched walls, bodies of agents who had made their last, desperate stand in the bathroom. Soap could tell by a few of the bodies that some had saved the last bullet for themselves.
“My God…” One of the soldiers said. “Do you really think the Prime Minister could survive all this?”
“We have to look.” Soap said. It won’t a suggestion. The trooper sighed, and took point. The four maneuvered through the wrecked offices, drawing closer to the beacon. Suddenly, the soldier on point motioned for them to get down.
“Movement,” He whispered. “Eleven O’clock.”
Ahead, moving through a hallway, a small group of gray humanoids with large eyes were moving toward them.
“Dammit,” Soap cursed. “As soon as we engage them they’ll alert every hostile in the building. We’d never make it.” They were silent for a moment, then one of them said.
“Maybe we can’t, but you can.”
“What?”
“We’ll distract them, led them away from the beacon. You can go rescue the Prime Minister.”
“Not gonna happen, that’s a suicide mission for you lads.”
“We know what we signed up for sir, we know what we have to do.”
Soap felt hollow inside.
“May God and her majesty be with you boys.”
“And you as well sir.” The three men stood up, and started running in the opposite direction of the beacon shouting as they did so. The Sectiods followed, obviously too consumed with the humans to look behind where Soap was hiding. Once the aliens were gone, he broke out of cover, moving as quickly as possible. As he drew closer, he realized that the Prime Minister had been placed inside a safe room, and that the heavy metal door had been blown open by the aliens. Bodies were stacked up, both aliens and human, on both sides of the door. He placed himself next to the door. Taking a deep breath, he moved inside,
Only to be met with the barrel of a gun.