“COME AND GET SOME PUNKS!” Uris screamed, pistol barking fire down into the field.
“This ain’t Compton, shithead!” Ramirez yelled over the din of battle, pulling the pilot back behind cover as the first men charging their position went down beneath the withering fire pressing down on them.
“For fuck’s sake, try not to get hit in the first part!” Miller screamed at the pair, a burst from his rifle taking down a pair of conscripts rushing at them with rusty-looking pistols in hand. “These guys’re nothing, next wave’s gonna include regulars and probably special forces!”
“You mean SS!? We could wind up fighting SS!?” Ramirez shouted back. The pilot at his side turned to him, eyebrows raised, and the SEAL rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve cracked open a history book before. Try not to faint.”
“I don’t care if they throw a whole damned company of Panzers at us, we’re not losing today!” Vance screamed between blasts from his rifle. As it stood, his position was still strong: the enemy hadn’t closed to within twenty yards of the line yet. But these were just barely-trained conscripts with almost nonexistent weaponry, with a few army regulars interspersed between. The enemy hadn’t even begun his real attack yet.
“Jesus, this ain’t war, it’s a massacre!” Miller screamed as the last of the conscripts fell dead on the field. “Why don’t they just surrender!? For fuck’s sake, why do they just keep coming!?”
“You know how the Nazis were,” Vance sighed as an eerie quiet fell over the field. “These guys have probably been told all their lives that the regime knows best, that it’s the only moral authority they should ever have. Someone grows up without anyone to tell ‘em different…”
He spread his hands out over the battlefield, now almost inundated with the bodies of conscripts and army regulars. “And there y’go.”
Miller shook his head and whistled. “That’s the most fucked up…do you hear something?”
There was a sudden whistling sound, followed almost immediately by a deep, earthy thud and a huge puff of smoke materializing in the field. “MORTARS! WE GOT MORTARS INCOMING!” Someone screamed.
“What is…is that smoke?” Uris looked out over where the mortar had impacted.
“Naw,” Vance said, eyes widening in terror as he watched. “But I wish to the Lord Jesus it was.”
One of the bodies the shell had impacted suddenly burst into flame, consumed within seconds in a crackling, fizzling flash of white. A wave of heat blasted the faces of every man on the line, burning hotter and brighter than the sun at high noon in the middle of July. “Willy-Pete!” Ramirez screamed. “Those motherfuckers are droppin’ white phosphorous on us!”
“Jesus Christ,” Miller said, all the color leaving his face as he watched a few more bodies ignite, blackening and crackling with the flames. “That…that ain’t right.”
A few more whistles entered the air. “Shit-fuck! GET DOWN! EVERYBODY DOWN!” The four men all huddled together, hunkering down alongside the rest of the line, waiting for the impact that would spell their doom to a slow and horrible death.
“Not like this, man! I don’t wanna burn!” Someone screamed. Someone else yelled for them to shut the fuck up just as a few more dull thuds burst right over their heads. Vance clenched his teeth, waiting for the white-hot flaming death to rain down on all their heads. And he waited. And he waited. After a few extra seconds, he peeked up to see why he wasn’t dead yet. A smile spread over his face as he tapped the men next to him.
“Why ain’t we…” Ramirez started, then he looked up and the grin spread to his face. “Aw, yeah!”
“Elements of Harmony in da house!” Uris whooped. High over their heads, a series of purple shields glowed and shimmered, thick clouds of white phosphorus blooming out over them and cascading to the side like little waterfalls of fiery death, landing harmlessly somewhere out in the field. It was almost like a fireworks show as they watched, Marines and SEALs alike cheering and hollering with each impact diverted. Scanning around, Vance caught sight of two little unicorns: one lavender, one alabaster, straining to maintain the shields.
“Twilight is magic!” One Marine screamed as he took notice, the whole line applauding and cheering the pair.
“Rarity! Have my children!” The SEAL next to him yelled, earning a strained smile from the white unicorn.
A split second later, a gust of wind shot over the Americans’ heads, blowing the remainder of the white phosphorus back out into the forest. One didn’t need to see the streak of rainbow to know who was responsible. “She just got 20% cooler!” Somebody else yelled as the cyan pegasus streaked overhead, grinning in pride.
All at once, a cry rang out from the side. In their enthusiasm, the Americans had failed to notice a squad of men sneaking up on their left flank, the lightning-bolt insignias on their shoulders unmistakable. “SS!” The men nearest to the group cried just as four helmeted, black-clad men dove at them, lobbing grenades.
“Oh, shi-“ one of them started as the explosives landed at their feet. Scrambling for cover, they each knew there was no way to get out of range before the little timers ran out. One dove towards them, intent on shielding the rest of his squadmates, when an orange blur rocketed into sight and promptly bucked the explosives clean out of the ridge, where they detonated harmlessly in the field.
“YEE-HAW! That’s how y’throw a rodeo!” Applejack shouted, waving her hat in the air as the men gathered round. She smiled politely and placed one hoof behind the other in a little bow.
“Marry me,” one of the Marines said, getting down on one knee in front of the burnt-orange pony as his teammates let out a cheer.
“Now c’mon, everypony! What should we do with all these guns and ammo!?” A high-pitched shriek asked from one side of the ridge. The men turned in confusion as Pinkie smiled down at them from the top of the ridge. “You gotta…”
“…shaaarree…” one of the SEALs said with a smile. “You gotta caarrreee…”
In a second, another man was singing, his voice trailing the first, then another, and another. Soon, the whole line was singing, using the song that had sparked a war to fight one: “You gotta shaarrreeee! You gotta carrrreeeee! It’s the right thing to do…”
Suddenly, they were pushing back, forcing the SS into a retreat beneath a withering curtain of interlocked fire, their voices still audible over the gunfire: “You gotta shaaaarrrrreee! You gotta caaaaarrrree! And there’ll always be a way through!”
“How are these people singing a song they’ve probably never heard before?” Uris asked.
“It’s Pinkie Pie: that’s how,” Ramirez remarked. “Now, that’s almost everypony, except where’s…”
Uris tapped him on the shoulder and pointed. Following his finger, the SEAL smiled at the sight of a little yellow pegasus huddling over a Marine, carefully dressing a bullet wound to his shoulder. “Fluttershy is best pony!” He called.
She cringed and looked up at him, immediately pasting on a nervous smile. “Oh, hi Uris!” She said shakily.
His smile faded. “Hey, Flutters.”
“I-um…I have to go,” she said, rushing to the side of the next soldier that needed help. Uris sighed as he watched her go, purposefully choosing a casualty further away from him.
“She’s still scared of me,” he mumbled.
“Hey, coulda happened to any of us!” Ramirez said comfortingly. “From whatcha told me, you reacted just like any soldier would have.”
“But I wasn’t just any soldier! At least…” he looked at where the little pegasus continued her life-saving work. “…at least not to her.”
“She just needs time, man. That’s all.”
As the shields over the American lines shimmered out of existence, each of the Elements descended in turn to join their allies, met with a huge round of applause. “Well done, ladies, very impressive,” Vance said, striding up to them. “Any of you mares ever consider a career in the United States Armed Forces?”
“We’re just happy to help, commander,” Twilight said with a smart little smile. “Any lives that we can save today will be our just reward.”
“Oh, the things I could do with a few platoons of men with your guts,” Vance smiled, shaking his head as the cheers around him rose. “Thing is, we aren’t outta the woods yet. This next wave will include everything the enemy has, thrown together in one final push.”
“Then I think I share my friends’ sentiment when I say: BRING IT ON!” Twilight barked.
“Heavens, this is going to get nasty,” Rarity said with a little smile of anticipation.
“Welp, looks like the rodeo ain’t over ‘til it’s over, everypony,” Applejack said as she straightened her hat.
“I-I’m gonna try my best here,” Fluttershy said, stroking the hand of a fallen SEAL.
“Aw yeah, it’s clobberin’ time!” Rainbow Dash shouted.
“Hush Rainbow, do you wanna get us sued!?” Pinkie hissed, clamping a hoof over her friend’s mouth.
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Michael focused his energy, his body reeling from a thousand tiny cuts, now throbbing with the infections pounded into them by his own son. His fist ramming into the ground, summoning the Vulcan again just as Mars dove atop him, spikes gleaming intimidatingly. As the man in the white T-shirt bought his weapon to bear, the spikes clashed with the spinning barrels, sending sparks flying. The pair glared at each other through the shower of flying metal, bits shearing off the barrels before Chen leapt back into the fray, the blunt ends of his silvery fists connecting with Mars’ jaw. Sneering, the fallen son trapped one of Chen’s arms in a lock and used it to pivot his body right into the ground, clods of dirt sailing lazily upwards from the impact. Michael followed close behind, his feet pounding the ground with little shockwaves that slowly bloomed out from his steps as he leapt and bought his fists down on the back of his former son’s head, only to be rewarded with a few killer roundhouse kicks to the pelvis, followed by a few slashes to his leg from one of the spikes. He took a step back, his head reeling as he clamped a hand over the wound. It glazed over with an angry-looking, darkened silver rather than the usual chrome. Mars had cut him, badly, and now he needed to direct precious few resources to containing yet another infection forced into his body.
Tired yet, daddy? Mars’ voice taunted over the psychic link, the only sound which could be heard in such an incredibly sped-up world. Still smiling despite the multiple little incisions on his own body, he continued his taunt. Come now, aren’t I just a simple brat with a few toys I don’t know how to use?
You talk tough for a man whose forces just got their asses kicked by a buncha talking ponies, Michael taunted.
What… finally, Mars paused and took stock of the situation along the American lines, kicking off into the air and sailing right over the ravine with the brothers right on his tail. Once Mars was satisfied in his knowledge of the situation on the ground, he grinned. Do you really believe my forces are even close to defeat? That by mowing down a few conscripts, you’re even close to winning? Immediately, a small burst of energy echoed through the air, operating on frequencies so high Michael could only start to guess at its meaning.
Michael, did you feel that? Chen’s voice suddenly barked over the line.
Yeah, I did, Michael replied, grimacing. What was that, some sorta attack?
No, it was a signal!
What!? A signal to who… Michael cut himself short as he realized just to whom, turning towards the Everfree forest where he knew a few platoons of Nazi stormtroopers would be making their final maneuvers.
Eh, shit. He grumbled just before Mars’ fist slammed into his face.
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Stevens surveyed his enemy’s position, pocketing his field binoculars. “{Impressive, for a mongrel race of Untermensch,}” he grumbled.
“{Commander, sir!}” A young private ran up to him and saluted traditionally: with his arm raised and fingers extended in a way not seen in the Americans’ world for decades. “{We have received a communique from the commander! He has given us the signal to deploy the heat gens!}”
“{Ah,}” Stevens smiled. “{Good, make it so.}”
“{Yes, sir,}” the private said, running to meet with a group of men setting up not far away with what appeared to be empty rocket launchers attached to backpacks, wires running between them. Finally, the Commander had come to his senses and realized it was pointless to fight the Americans on their terms. Sure, they could continue fighting as they had, but why not try something easier? Why not play this last little card?
Stevens grinned, took out his binoculars again, and prepared himself for the show. ”Auf Wiedersehen, Amerikaner.” He whispered.